Where we give new meaning to "forever alone" - Let's Play Lone Survivor!

As I'm about to turn back, The Director calls out to me.



He's right. Blasting my way through the basement didn't work. I can't risk running out of ammo again.

But I can alter how I approach the world.

My last spare shells for three of his distress flares. I hope to hell they do more than light the place up.



They work! More importantly, they stun.

The flares don't last very long and they don't stun very far. But with my rotten meat, I can lure and then blind the Jellies.

Maybe the letter-writer had a point, after all. Maybe I don't have to be like Draco.

All the ammo I have left now rests inside my handgun. Ten shells.

Even fewer after stumbling into the marked room. I thought I wouldn't have to use my only friend anymore!



The entire building seems after me. Coming alive from the bottom up. Maws growing from walls and...glimmering? ...is that a key?

I don't even have sleeves to protect my arms, but I can't just leave a key behind. Closing my eyes, I crouch down and reach in gingerly.



And a slimy arm for my effort.

By now I'm deep within the bowels of the cellar. I've come across another mirror, but I didn't look into it. I want to finish the job here and never come back.

Not when I'm greeted by new monsters every step that I take.



The closest one snaps at me with its belly. My hand tightens around my handgun. Would I even be able to bring these down?

In the end, it's not worth the risk.



The Potbellies practically collapse from the light of the flare. I plod past them with ease.

Did The Director know what I would be facing? Is that why he offered to trade?

Whatever the reason, he was right. The world is mine.

The distress flares help to keep the Jellies and Potbellies at bay, but I still run into challenges. Several times, the path ahead simply vanishes.

It's only a reflexive grab at the veiny walls that keeps me from falling down.



I can only imagine what other monsters lurk deeper underground. I don't intend to find out.

But I've had successes, too. My pack weighs heavily with the canister of gasoline I discovered in a side-room.


The growls and shuffling died down many steps ago. Am I heading in the right direction?

I'd run out of ammo before. Did I have enough batteries? Would I have enough light? What if --



What if I made it to the elevator in the basement safe and sound?

I'm lucky my laughter didn't set any Jellies after me.

At least I've found the elevator's entrance in the basement. But I still haven't found the generator room. I'm not finished yet.

It's only after I step through the next doors that it strikes me: for a moment, I didn't need flashlight-kun.

For a moment, I wasn't surrounded by darkness.



Even despite the dust, I look almost haggard in the mirror.

If I want to make it to the generator room, I'd better return here after a night's sleep.

Otherwise, I'll surely lose it.

When I wake, The Director has no new surprises for me. That's all right. I don't need distractions.

I know the location of the generator room. I don't even need flashlight-kun to light the way for me.



The door opens with a simple turn of the key. Securing the pack upon my shoulders, I step into the room.

...but what is grotesque statue?



When did I get onto my knees? Why does my head feel ready to burst?

I extend a hand toward the statue to steady myself.



Why can't I look away?

...why won't someone help me?

Help me.

My hand never quite grasps the statue. It falls, falls, falls...

...it never falls to the ground.



Wasn't I underground? Did I dream that too? Nothing makes much sense anymore.

Didn't my head hurt? Did I die? Is this what dying feels like?



...you.

Didn't I dream about you?

But who are you?



No, I don't. But I did! I really did dream about you!

...is all this from my past?

You still haven't answered my question. Who are you?



But I've never seen you before! I must be dreaming this. Will I wake back in my bed?



You're right, though. It looks so far away from here. I can't even see it anymore.

I've almost forgotten what it feels like to get away.

It feels...



Peaceful.

Is something bothering you? You seem to have something on your mind.



The one where I count off to a million and you hide so I can find you?

It's been so long since we played that game.



Sounds like fun. Go and hide. I'll start counting. And if I can't find you, then we'll meet back here. Okay?

Go hide. I'm closing my eyes! One... two...



...three.

No, no, no, no! Why is this happening to me?

Come on, pull yourself together, man! You're stronger than this!



You didn't trek through all this darkness just to collapse underground! You came here to fix a generator!

Now you've got a large fuse to replace and a canister of gasoline to pour. Get moving!



There. You got the generator moving. Now let's head back to the elevator. And get a hold of yourself.

You want to make it out of here, don't you?

The generator should still be running. If I can call the elevator upstairs, I might be able to trap the monster long enough to escape.

It's the best plan I've got. What other options do I have?



It works! The generator works! Now I just need to wait for the elevator.

At least I'm far enough from the Jellies and Potbellies so they won't catch me off-guard.


The building only has a few floors. Why is it taking so --



I barely catch myself from being thrown to the ground. As it is, I'm knocked onto my knees. What the hell was that?

The basement always shook, but now I can hear a new sound. Almost like a wail.

...is that rending metal?

Oh no.



Fuck, no.



I gotta run!

I don't even dare to look over my shoulder. If I saw it, I'd be a goner.

I haven't seen any Jellies or Potbellies. It's all I'm grateful for.

Its footsteps follow me all the way back to the basement entrance. Come on, man!



There! The door with the cracked panes! With a last rush, I slam my whole weight against the doors.

You've got this! Don't look back. Just get the door open!



I can see the behemoth lumbering behind the door. I can smell its rank odor through the broken glass.

But it doesn't matter. I made it. I survived!

And I'm never returning down here again. Ever.

My heart still pounds madly as I proceed to the main lobby. With the behemoth trapped downstairs, I can finally escape!



It's been so long since I've stepped outside the apartment. I can't imagine what even more dangerous monsters lurk outside. Maybe it'll kill me.

But I don't care, to be honest.



I'll lose it if I stay in this apartment any longer. It's time to go.

With a gentle push, the door swings wide.

The air hits me first: cool and dank. The air of wide open spaces.



I've missed it.

A glint from the dead end catches the corner of my eye. I crouch down, rummaging to find a key among the debris. My fire escape key.

A slight chill runs down my spine. How long has this been here? Anyone could have waltzed into my home. Did anyone?



The exhaustion pounds onto me. In under a day, I've escaped a behemoth, trapped it underground, and found my way into the city. I don't want to think about my key.

At least I now have the key. All I want to do is sleep. I'll worry about the rest tomorrow.

I wake much later than I normally do. Too much happened yesterday. I'm not surprised.

I've finally found a way into the city. But what now? I've been concerned with escaping. I haven't thought about what I would do when I escaped.

Absentmindedly, I fiddle the radio to The Director's frequency.



True to his word, he's got a surprise for me today. I haven't seen a Gamejoy since I was a kid!

This is awesome! Thanks, Mister Director.



For the first time, he offers me a way to pay him back. He wants comics.

Sleepy Cat comics, specifically. Like the series featuring Catson!

The Director's helped me out tremendously. I wouldn't have gotten this far without him. I'll find those Sleepy Cat comics.



But not before I play a little Soul Brothers on my new Gamejoy.

Well, maybe more than a little.

Perhaps Soul Brothers should have had limited continues. I played for so long the batteries died.

Damnit, I'm not any closer to exploring the city. I don't want to rot here. Come on, man, get moving!



Though I have a bad feeling about turning at the first junction. I nearly lose an arm to the Potbelly's snapping jaws.

At least I've found a Sleepy Cat comic! The Director will be really happy to see this. I run back toward the apartment...


But didn't I want to explore the city? I'll probably burn another battery if I return to my apartment.

I'll give The Director the comic next time I see him. I visit his apartment pretty often anyw --



Was that movement? Is there someone else alive?

Shit, hide!

Damn, the spitting Jelly took a lot more bullets with it. Is every monster in the city deadlier?

I trail a hand over the weapons as I examine them. Too big, too noisy, too risky. None of them suit my tastes. Perhaps the ones in back?



...Someone else survived!

Wait, get a hold of yourself. You remember what happened last time you found other survivors.



But they didn't know about the outbreak. He -- that's a man's voice, right? -- sees the destruction. A genuine survivor?

I can't stand here idling. If one Jelly could get into the store, so can others. Let me in! It's not safe here!


...Thanks.

A single lamp lights the interior of the storeroom. A lone mattress slumps in one corner. A shelf. I don't see much else.

I can't complain about my apartment. I lived in luxury compared to here. My bedroom alone dwarfs this makeshift shelter.

Hank doesn't look so well, either.



Involuntarily, I edge backward. I can't see his face in the lamp's light. Has he turned?

Surely there's a cure, Hank? An antidote? There must be a way to reverse whatever caused the outbreak.



We both go quiet at Hank's exclamation. We both know it doesn't matter. Even an antidote existed, Hank's too far gone.

But he doesn't want to let go yet. He's even willing to trade me some ammo...



...for pills. Blue ones, specifically. I guess they help him sleep. What else can he do?

I'm too glad to unload a few pills. I don't need more dreams. Even about the old man.

I wonder what Hank dreams about? Does he see the old man, too?

As I turn to leave, I can't help but glance at Hank's shelves. Barren. My eyes dart to the floor: barren, too.

Hank, how are you even surviving? What are you living on?



How long has he been holed up here? Is he starving himself, hoping that will end him before he turns?

Hank really does only have ammo to trade. But he offers a bit of advice if I'm in need of food.



He says someone -- maybe even one of the monsters -- restocks the food daily. It'd be worth checking out, at least.

He catches my eye dart back to the shelf and chuckles. "Better than eating rats," he quips, and despite the circumstances I smile.

Thanks for the tip, Hank. Thanks for everything.

In spite of Hank's joke, I don't see any rats. Instead, I dodge a few Jellies by ducking into alleyways. Did the Jellies eat them?

Not long after I leave Hank's shelter, I come across an abandoned building. Not even a door to block my way.



I don't see any movement inside. I doubt anyone's entered since the outbreak occurred.

Perhaps I'll find a few salvageable goods? I step gingerly inside...



Augh! The bright lights! What is this light? Where is it coming from?

I blink furiously, willing my vision to return. To see... him!



You! From my dream! From when I ran out of ammo and collapsed! How can I know your name if you don't tell me?

I thought I escaped that apartment. Why, damnit, why?

...why are you following me?

You appeared in my dreams. Now you're appearing in an abandoned building.

You can't exist. You're not real. So I'm not paying any attention to you!



I don't want to sit. Let out of this dream. Let me out, let me out!

I make to move --



...no.

I've seen you before. Why can't I remember who you are? Who the hell are you? Are you the reason I'm in this situation?

Tell me, please!

A voice answers -- her voice. "I wouldn't worry about him."



Don't do this! Please, I can't remember!

But before I can even move, the whole world flashes white. I'm alone again, except for her parting words:

"It's time to move on."

When my vision returns, I'm alone in an abandoned building.

No furniture. No lights. No people.



The room's empty save for a golden key marked "SW" and a so-called health tonic. I can't dash out quickly enough.

I spy a piece of paper half-hanging off a wall on East Street. I pull it off the wall...



Another map that someone has marked for me. That's Hank's shelter. Has Hank been my guide all this time?

If I return to his shelter, I'll ask. But for now, I'll just pocket the map. Hank said to find the grocery on East Street.



After dodging a few Jellies, I find myself outside the grocery store. I can barely make out the shapes inside.

All I have left to eat remains locked in cans. I'll have to take the risk.

"Cozy Corner." I just hope I don't stay there too long.

I open the door as narrowly as possible before squeezing in. Even as I enter, I can hear them. Jellies.

My hand hops to my handgun...

But as I make to raise it, Hank's huddled figure comes to mind. I can't do this.



Between the shelves, I find enough places to hide. I've got just enough rotten meat to maneuver my way back.

I'm safe here, behind this shelf. What's in the box?



Real survival food. At least it won't have gone bad like the milk I've been collecting.

Within arm's reach I find another of the Sleepy Cat comics. Mister Director will be really happy!

I attempt to smother my stomach as it growls. The last of the cheese-cracker sandwiches don't help. I need real food.

Now's as good a time as any to return to the apartment.

Let me see, the map says turn left to return to the apartment, but I can't turn left.

Oh damn, I've been holding the map upside down! I must have missed the junction! I'll just have to walk back --



Is that a kitty-cat? How has it survived so long? I can't believe the Jellies didn't catch it.

Hello there, little one... What brings you out here? What's your name, eh?



Do you have a name? I should think up a name for you...

Poor little thing, I guess you haven't been eating Hank's rats. You look hungry. Here, I'll go find you some food, okay?

I'll be back, okay? I promise!

Why does The Director want Sleepy Cat comics? I flip through a few of the pages.

This is the intro! Oh, Sleepy Cat, you always solve everyone's problems. I wish Catson could solve mine, too.



A tin of cat food? I can't even open my own cans. I'm barely feeding myself! How am I supposed to feed the kitty?

At least I have cat food for the stray now. But how am I ever going to open it?



As I return from The Director's apartment, I notice one door left tightly shut. I don't recall ever investigating there.

A Jelly's beaten me inside, but my only friend takes care of it. Inside, I find a can opener and...



...a perfectly preserved ham. I can't believe it.

A feast for both kitty and me!

Ozzo, this is a fantastic LP. I haven't wanted to comment for fear of spoiling the flow, but I just had to take a moment to tell you what an amazing job you're doing with the narrative flow here, keeping it moving quickly and preserving the feeling of mounting desperation and insanity. It's really, really great - since so few people seemed to be commenting, I just had to break in to praise it, and you.

(Thank you, quatoria! I admit I was worried at first about doing a narrative-heavy LP, but the game's rich in cues to write from. I'm really glad you're enjoying it!)

I end up falling asleep after my first hot meal since I can remember: a bowl of warm beans. It's more than Hank has.

More than kitty has, too. I can finally feed it. I'd better get a move on and find it. I hope the monsters haven't found it.



I stumbled upon kitty by mistake yesterday, and it shows. I duck into the shadows before a Potbelly lumbers into me.

Another Potbelly soon joins the first. I must have stumbled into the wrong alleyway. I don't recall seeing two Potbellies in the streets.

Hang on, what's that at the end?



The car's completely wrecked. Half of it rests against the wall, the other half crumpled beyond recognition.

At least the wreck won't go to waste. I can see the car battery beneath the open hood. But what caused the crash?

A poorly decided turn? An accidental swerve? I'll never know. But if a driver couldn't escape, what hope do I have on foot?

The driver can't be helped. Don't dwell on it. You've got a kitty to save.

I find my way back onto East Street, retracing my steps from yesterday. Hey! I see it! Here, kitty!



I must have looked like a monster to it. Poor thing's probably been chased to no end.

I can see neither tail nor fur of kitty. I'd better return later. I hope I haven't scared it off for good.

Say, what is this place? Why does it look so familiar?



I know it somehow. Why, though? It's not like I've been a patient here...

Why can't I remember anything anymore? What happened to me? Why am I like this?

...or was I always this way?

At least the hospital doesn't matter. It's closed. I can't break the keypad lock.

Time to get moving. I still haven't ventured further down East Street. I don't know what lies past the grocery.



North Street would have been pleasant to visit before the outbreak. Now, it's not much better than any other street.

Even the little café appears ruined inside. It feels out of place, like a relic of a previous era, something from a faraway place.

The street ends sooner than expected with rubble. But I'm still glad to have came here.



I don't know if I'll ever need the crowbar. But at least I'll have it if I do. I need every tool I can get.

Even if it means dodging a few Jellies in dark alleyways. I've faced plenty before. Or so I tell myself.

But this...



I knew I couldn't be the only survivor. But is this Hank's work? Or someone else's?

In spite of the mask, I'm tempted to cover my mouth. But instead, I busy myself removing the wire cutters.

They slide out of the Jelly's chest with a sickening squelch. I can't look at its face.

Not if I want to sleep tonight.

Breakfast is a hurried affair: just some canned fruit salad. I'm still not very hungry after yesterday's sights.

But I can think of someone who likely is. Here, kitty. I'm not gonna eat you, I promise!



The kitty tenses with every step I take, but I finally get near enough to set down a tin of cat food.

I can practically count its ribs from here. Poor thing. Hope you like it, little guy.



The kitty cleans the entire tin. I'm tempted to stroke it, but I don't. I don't want to push my luck.

It doesn't linger. A satisfied purr before it ambles back around the hospital. Off you go, little guy.

Stay safe.

I've explored most of this part of the city. I can't proceed further down North Street.

I have only left alleyway left to explore. I've got no other choice, even if it gives me a bad feeling.

The gold key digs into the palm of my hand. The key to the old arcade.



The buildings seem closer together here than in any other alleyway. I can't even duck into the shadows.

At least I've found plenty of ammo around for my only friend. I've never shot down a Potbelly before.

What's dragging behind me?



What ... I just shot you! Get away from me!

But the Potbelly crawls after me, one arm writhing out toward me. Ahead of me, two more block my path.

I can't shoot them all. But the world is mine.



In the distress flare's glare, the Potbellies slump to the ground. It's my chance. The light from Superflat World brightens the --

The light? How has the sign stayed lit --

But I don't have time to contemplate it. I can hear the scraping behind me. Get inside, now!

The sign outside might shine, but I need to resort to flashlight-kun. All the arcade games sit dormant.

A wide variety of games here. Heh, I almost wish I could play a few for a couple hours. Not all of them.



I'm not fooled by the cute art on the outside. It's a game about suicide. Not anywhere near as cute as it looks.

Still, I would play some of these. Probably pay more coins than I ought to but --



The hell?

What's this light? What's that character? Is... is the game playing itself?

No, this can't possibly happen. What's powering the machine? I won't believe it!

Come on, just get away from it. Don't look back at it. Just keep going...



As soon as I take a few steps away, the machine dies. No lights. No sound.

That can't possibly have happened. No, I won't look back. Plenty of other games to see!

Here's one about wizards, and over there...



...well, just another game about zombies. One of many to hit on the zombie craze.

I'd rather play another game. Before the outbreak, I might have played it.

Now it just hits a little too close to home.

I can see the light glint off another doorknob. I wonder if this back entrance opens onto another street? Maybe --

I just replaced the battery. Damnit, flashlight-kun!



You! Have you been toying with me? Did you set these arcade games to play?

Alright, just say what it is you want to say! I'm tired of all this creeping around!



Look, you said you didn't have much to say until the third time.

So if you're not going to tell me anything, just go!



To learn anything? What's there to learn? Like why I can't remember?

Do you know why I can't remember? Tell me! You can just tell --



-- me.

Damn that man. I've got to get out of here. I'm losing it. I'm just...losing it.

At least I didn't explore the arcade for nothing. I found the last of the Sleepy Cat comics.

Heh, I love these. The last one's definitely the best issue. I'm sure The Director will love these, too.



He's leaving the apartment? I can't blame him. At least Hank's shelter has a mattress.

But why leave, Mister Director? Why will I not see you here anymore?



In spite of all your gifts, it reassures me that you know about the outbreak. You're not just a figment of my imagination.

But you've been helping me survive with your own tools and supplies. How will you make it? Let me go with you.



Heh, I'd probably just slow you down, what with me collapsing and all. You're right. It's too dangerous.



I look at this mysterious, trenchcoated man, down to the ground meat and sliced cheese he gave me as soon as I entered, back to him.

I'll keep an ear on the radio at all times. Don't worry about me. Good luck, Mister Director.

And thank you. Thank you for everything.

I don't know if the comics will help him stay alive, but I give them all to The Director. I trade all my spare ammo, too. He needs it more than I do.

He's been extremely kind to me. Will I see him again? Would it be better if I didn't?

At least only Jellies roam the street near the apartment. They're easy enough to -- what was that?



Hello again, you! Found a new spot, have you? Did you follow me here?

I still haven't come up with a name for you. But first, let's get you fed. You still look hungry.



It'll be a while before I can't count your ribs. I hope you like it, little guy.

The kitty doesn't linger much longer than last time, either. And he's off again.

There's something cathartic about feeding a cat. But I can't stand idly in the street. I'll just grab some rotten meat from home before --



Well hey, you! You really are following me, aren't you?

I'm going a little cat-crazy. You'd think I had the taxoplasma parasite or something.