I, Crafter #48

The last attempt

Earth cannot hold us any more. There is time for one final programme: fifty candidates, trained for years, sent asleep

in one-person pods to fifty Earth-like worlds. A 50–100-year flight, one way. No second wave. No rescue.

You are number forty-eight. You wake in a burnt-out pod in a crater, on a world nobody has ever touched, with

everything you were taught and nothing else.

Fire. Shelter. Water. Food. Then walls.

Nothing is looted. Everything is crafted.

There are no ruins to search, no supply drops, no chests left by someone before you. Every tool, every coat, every

wall and every working machine on world 48 is something you made from raw ground.

• A hand-built open world — thirteen regions, one continuous map, no loading screens. Each region has a
  material found nowhere else.

• Hazards with crafted answers — cold, toxic air, heat and more. Each one is beaten by gear you make and wear,
  not by a number going up.

• A body to keep alive — hunger, thirst, breath, exposure, temperature and toxicity, on a day/night cycle with
  changing weather.

• 59 buildings — from a first hearth and bench to stone walls, water purifiers, smelters and solar power.

• Caves and the deep underground — caves run beneath the land, and one whole region lies entirely below it.

Your workers are what you hunted

Creatures roam world 48, and they will come for you, your stores and your walls. Kill one, carry it to the Growth Vat,

and bring it back as a worker. Send it out to gather, set it to guard, or have it tend a building. Your workers learn

from their work and grow stronger.

Tell Earth

Earth only knows one thing about you: whether you are still alive. To send more than that, you must charge a Solar

Collector and build the Listening Post, then push your message home across the dark, and hear Earth answer once.

The game goes on after the ending. The world is still yours.