Its position and appearance are the basis for innumerable timekeeping and navigational systems, from Mayan calendars to the astronomical procedures still relied upon by present-day sailors. The moon has always played a role in how we tell time, of course. It's also something of a timekeeper, waning and waxing as the story proceeds towards a possibly Biblical, possibly scientific apocalypse. It's a wonderful ambient device in a game that is otherwise one gigantic charnelpile, a glowing cavemouth amid the clouds which ices the surfaces of barren lakes and raises the skeletons of farmyards from foetid darkness. There is little about Red Barrels' schlocky, prurient first-person horror outing that deserves real admiration, but you can't deny the power of its moon. What's your favourite moon in a game? The lipless satellite of The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask, perhaps? Overwatch's rather cosy lunar map? Somebody asked me this a few weeks ago - genuinely, we'd been talking about First Man - and to my surprise I found myself thinking of Outlast 2. Check back tomorrow, if we're still all here. There are monsters, sure, but Outlast 2's scariest moments come from its most familiar faces.RPS is having an Apocalypse Day! We're celebrating the end of the world and games about it. It rains blood and spews locusts and sends twisted cultists after you through it all, just regular people wearing overalls and carrying bloody steak knives, moaning in apocalyptic overtones. Outlast 2 takes you through dilapidating farms and flooded mines and old townships that all say something about the history of the people who lived there. The first Outlast had the same intense stealth sequences and chase scenes, but in the spooky asylum every Early Access game goes for.
What I like most about Outlast 2 is that it doesn't just use its themes as set-dressing. It’s fear of the drastic measures people will take to ensure their salvation, the burden of guilt, and whether or not the big guy up top exists and gives a damn. It's not a fear about being hunted, artistic viscera spills, or neatly arranged corpses on spikes (though there’s plenty of that stuff). It’s one of the most bizarre ending sequences I’ve witnessed, tapping into a fear I’ve known since my first week at Sunday school. Long after the final minutes of Outlast 2, I felt queasy, uncertain that what I saw had actually happened. If you're having trouble navigating Outlast 2's dark farmland or can't figure out how enemies keep spotting you, check out our beginner's guide (opens in new tab). And when you’re dashing through it, nearly out of battery while a ‘man’ screams biblical verse and shoots fiery crossbow bolts past your head it’s both thrilling and nauseating, all propped up by an incredible soundtrack. It’s stunning artistic and graphical work. Subtle lighting casts trees and figures like paper silhouettes against muted backdrops, and convincing effects like the camera’s depth of field and visual noise make the world look real at a glance. Red Barrels’ commitment to building such a disorienting horror simulation is as admirable as it is annoying. While the original Outlast could depend on the hospital’s architectural pathways to direct the player, pulling off subtle signposting in an outdoor setting can’t be as obvious without compromising the feeling of being lost and helpless. The area was a wild goose chase killbox, built only to confuse.
The way out was a short sprint not far from where the sequence begins, a quick hop over a pile of wood pallets piled next to the fence. Red Barrels’ commitment to building such a disorienting horror simulation is as admirable as it is annoying.Įarly on, I wandered the same cornfield for 30 minutes, crawling the perimeter and making several suicide runs to scope out the buildings for an exit.
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