THE ALTERS
A survival game masterpiece about battling your own selves in space In order to survive—equal parts strategic and human.
"Am I the captain of this ship, or does it take its own course, regardless of what I do?"
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The Alters
The Alters Is Unlike Anything I’ve Ever Played
There are games you play, finish, and move on from. Then there’s The Alters—the kind of experience that lingers in your mind long after you’ve put the controller down. I’ve played my fair share of survival games, but nothing has ever made me feel the way this one does. It’s not just about managing resources or building a base. It’s about people—specifically, versions of yourself—and the captivating, intimate story that unfolds between them.
Why This Game Stuck With Me
From the moment I created my first Alter, I was hooked. There’s something deeply compelling about seeing different facets of one person interact, argue, and depend on each other for survival. I’ve never played anything like it. Most games give you companions with pre-written personalities, but here, every Alter feels real—flawed, messy, and human.
What makes it so special?
It’s Straightforward, But Deep
The game doesn’t overwhelm you with complicated systems. Instead, it focuses on what matters: your relationship with your Alters. Every conversation, every decision, every moment of tension pulls you deeper into their lives.An Intimate, Unforgettable Narrative
These aren’t just NPCs—they’re you, shaped by choices you didn’t make but could have. Hearing an Alter throw your own regrets back at you, or watching another quietly break down from loneliness, hits hard often times. The storytelling is subtle, raw, and deeply personal.You’re Not Just Surviving—You’re Connecting
Most survival games are about enduring. The Alters is about understanding. Every Alter has their own pain, their own perspective, and their own way of seeing the world. Learning who they are—and, in turn, who Jan really is—becomes an obsession. I didn’t just want to keep them alive. I wanted to know them.
The Kind of Game That stick with You
I didn’t expect The Alters to affect me the way it did. It’s not just a game about clones—it’s a game about regret, identity, and the roads not taken. By the end, I wasn’t just asking, "I survived. Now what?" I was asking, "Did I make the right choices?"
And that’s why I love it. It’s rare to find a game that’s this bold, this emotional, and this human. If you’re looking for something that stays with you—something that makes you think, feel, and maybe even see yourself a little differently—this is it.
Without further ado — let’s dive in further to The Alters.
Gameplay
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Gameplay •
Where Survival Meets Self-Reflection
The Alters transforms traditional survival mechanics into something profoundly personal through its brilliant Alter system and dual-perspective design. What begins as a familiar struggle for resources evolves into a haunting meditation on identity and human connection. Let's break down what makes its gameplay so exceptional.
The Daily Grind That Never Feels Repetitive
The game's day/night cycle creates a rhythm that's both meditative and tense. Each morning presents new challenges - dwindling supplies, malfunctioning equipment, or an Alter on the verge of rebellion. What could feel like busywork in other games becomes deeply engaging because every task carries emotional weight.
I remember one particularly harrowing cycle where I had to choose between sending my most skilled Alter on a dangerous mining expedition or keeping him safe but losing precious resources. There are definitely choices that make it hard to know what to prioritize — your relationship with the alters or getting resources.
The Alter System - A Masterclass in Emergent Storytelling
Creating new Alters isn't simply about expanding your workforce. Each clone emerges with distinct personality traits shaped by Jan's unrealized life paths. The genius lies in how they develop beyond their initial programming:
The Alter you created as a vulnerable miner might gradually reveal artistic inclinations
Your "optimistic" clone could become bitterly disillusioned after one too many hardships
Relationships form organically between Alters, creating alliances and rivalries without your input
These aren't scripted story beats. They emerge naturally from gameplay systems, making each playthrough feel uniquely personal.
The Perfect Pacing of Desperation
The Alters masterfully balances immediate threats with long-term survival:
Short-term: Oxygen problem, equipment failures, and sudden storms demand quick thinking
Medium-term: Base expansions and Alter creation require careful resource allocation
Long-term: The ever-present goal of escape looms over every decision
This multi-layered tension keeps you constantly engaged without feeling overwhelmed. The pacing shines brightest when multiple crises converge - when a structural failure coincides with an Alter's emotional breakdown, forcing you to choose between physical and psychological survival.
Two Games in One: 3D Exploration & 2D Base Management
The seamless transition between perspectives creates a perfect thematic contrast:
3D First-Person Exploration makes the planet feel vast and indifferent. Every expedition carries risk - will you push further for better resources, or play it safe? The loneliness out here makes returning to base feel like coming home.
2D Base Management evokes This War of Mine's intimate dread. In this confined space, every glance and gesture between Alters speaks volumes. You'll find yourself studying body language as closely as resource levels, learning to spot trouble before it erupts.
Consequences That Feel Human, Not Punishing
Where many survival games punish through arbitrary difficulty spikes, The Alters makes failure feel like the natural result of human frailty. Setbacks occur because:
You pushed an Alter too hard, ignoring their deteriorating mental state
Favored one clone over others, breeding resentment
Failed to recognize how small slights accumulated into rebellion
These consequences hurt precisely because they feel earned. When an Alter finally snaps, you'll trace it back to specific moments where you could have - should have - acted differently.
The Verdict: Survival Evolved
The Alters represents a quantum leap for the survival genre. By making your greatest resource (your Alters) also your greatest liability, it creates tension no zombie horde or natural disaster could match. The gameplay systems work in harmony to deliver an experience that's as intellectually stimulating as it is emotionally devastating.
What stayed with me longest wasn't any particular mechanic, but how the game made me care - really care - about these digital reflections of Jan. That's the magic of The Alters - it doesn't just want you to survive. It wants you to understand what survival costs.
The Story & Writing
The Alters grabs you from the opening moments. Waking up alone on a desolate planet as Jan Dolski, the sole survivor of a mining crash, the game wastes no time establishing its tense atmosphere. What begins as a lonely trek to your damaged ship - interrupted by sudden radiation storms - quickly becomes something far more compelling.
The real magic happens when you discover the Quantum Computer. Creating alternate versions of yourself transforms a standard survival premise into something truly special. Each Alter feels like a genuine person, their personalities shaped by Jan's unrealized life paths. Through them, the game tells multiple stories at once - all variations on the same soul.
This isn't just a tale about surviving a hostile world. It's about confronting who you are - and who you might have been. In just its opening hour, The Alters establishes a narrative depth most games find hard to achieve.
Spoiler warning
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Spoiler warning !!!
The Alters elevates game narrative beyond simple storytelling, weaving its themes directly into the fabric of gameplay. What emerges is a psychological odyssey that lingers long after the credits roll, thanks to its brilliant character work and environmental storytelling.
A Slow-Burn Character Study
From the opening moments, the game establishes an atmosphere of profound isolation that gradually gives way to something more complex. As Jan Dolski, you begin alone on a hostile planet, but soon find yourself surrounded by the most unsettling companions imaginable - versions of yourself. The brilliance lies in how the narrative reveals itself organically through these Alters. Each one serves as both a functional game element and a narrative mirror, reflecting aspects of Jan's psyche you'd rather not examine.
The writing shines in its restraint. Early hours provide only fragments of backstory - a damaged personal log here, an Alter's cryptic remark there. This intentional ambiguity perfectly mirrors Jan's own fractured memory, pulling you deeper into his disorientation. When major revelations come, they land with devastating impact because you've pieced them together yourself through dozens of small interactions.
The Alters: Masterclass in Character Writing
What could have been a gimmick - multiple versions of the protagonist - becomes the game's most profound achievement. Each Alter develops as a fully realized character, with their own:
Speech patterns (from clipped professionalism to emotional outbursts)
Evolving perspectives on shared memories
Unique relationships with other Alters
A pragmatic Alter might initially seem like a simple scientist archetype, but gradually reveals depths of resentment over life choices. The Idealist's unwavering hope becomes either inspiring or delusional based on your interactions. These aren't static NPCs - they're dynamic characters who change based on your treatment of them and each other.
Meaningful Choice and Consequence
Every decision carries psychological weight:
Assigning dangerous tasks or not assigning them to any task could strain relationships
Revealing painful truths may destroy an Alter's motivation
Small kindnesses accumulate into unexpected loyalty
Wrong decisions could lead to rebellion or even death
The game tracks your moral compass not through obvious meters, but through subtle changes in Alter behavior and environmental details. A once-neat workstation might become cluttered as an Alter's mental state declines. These organic consequences make every choice feel genuinely impactful.
A Finale That Honors the Journey
There are multiple endings to this game, and I’m not quite sure which one would be considered canon for their future dlc (I’m assuming it involves the alters being kept safe). Each possible conclusion reflects the priorities you've demonstrated throughout the game, with resolutions that feel earned rather than prescribed. What lingers isn't any particular plot twist, but the accumulated weight of hundreds of small, human moments with your Alters.
The Visual
The sound
Visual Design: Beauty in Isolation
The Alters achieves something remarkable in its visual design - it creates a world that feels simultaneously alien and intimately familiar, where every environmental detail and character expression serves the game's psychological narrative. While not the most technically advanced game graphically, its art direction demonstrates how purposeful aesthetic choices can elevate storytelling beyond what pure graphical fidelity could achieve.
The planetary environments represent one of gaming's most compelling depictions of "hostile beauty." When that swollen sun crests the horizon, bathing the landscape in golden light, you'll find yourself momentarily forgetting its deadly radiation - until the HUD starts flashing warnings and your skin begins to blister. This visual paradox perfectly encapsulates the game's central tension between wonder and survival. The artists employ a muted but deliberate color palette: sickly yellows and oranges during daylight hours give way to deep, lonely purples at night, with the ever-present dust storms rendering everything in hazy, dreamlike tones. Rock formations aren't just geologically plausible but psychologically suggestive - jagged outcrops resemble grasping fingers in certain lights, while cave systems feel like descending into Jan's subconscious.
The Alters showcases remarkable character design where each alternate version of yourself possesses a completely unique visual identity. Every Alter's appearance has been carefully crafted to reflect their specific background and personality - from their facial features and body language to their clothing style and overall demeanor. These aren't just cosmetic differences, but fully realized designs that communicate each Alter's distinct history and temperament the moment you see them. What makes the visual design particularly effective is how immediately recognizable each Alter becomes. Without a single line of dialogue, you can understand fundamental aspects of who they are simply by their appearance.
Inside the base, the shift to 2D perspective reveals astonishing attention to environmental detail. What could have been static backgrounds instead filled with life - steam pipes hiss rhythmically, holographic displays flicker with data, and personal items slowly accumulate in each Alter's designated spaces.
The game's more stylized elements - particularly the simplified cutscenes - initially seem at odds with the otherwise detailed world. But these moments reveal themselves as intentional artistic choices that focus attention on psychological beats rather than action. When an Alter recounts a traumatic memory in flat, storyboard-like panels, the abstraction somehow makes their pain feel more raw and immediate than any fully animated sequence could.
What makes The Alters visually remarkable isn't any single element, but how perfectly every artistic choice serves the narrative. The environments and character designs work in harmony to create a world that feels completely unified in its storytelling. Subtle visual details reinforce the game's themes at every turn, from the way spaces change to reflect growing tensions to how character expressions convey unspoken histories. This isn't just attractive art direction - it's visual language operating at its most effective, where every frame deepens your understanding of the story and characters through purely environmental storytelling. The result is an experience where the visuals don't just accompany the narrative, but actively participate in telling it.
Sound Design: Atmospheric Storytelling
From the moment The Alters begins, its soundscape pulls you into its world with remarkable precision. The audio design doesn't just accompany the experience - it becomes an essential storytelling device, shaping tension, emotion, and even gameplay decisions through carefully crafted sonic elements.
Alex Jordan's vocal performance stands as one of gaming's most impressive feats of voice acting. Portraying Jan and all ten Alters, Jordan creates distinct personalities through subtle yet powerful vocal choices. Each Alter speaks with their own rhythm, breathing patterns, and even mouth sounds that make them feel like completely different people, while still maintaining that core thread of being versions of the same man. The way an Alter's voice might waver when discussing painful memories, or harden when giving orders, adds incredible depth to every interaction.
Environmental sounds create constant tension without becoming overwhelming. The anomalies emit clean, almost musical tones that grow more unsettling the longer you're exposed to them - a brilliant use of simplicity to create unease. Radiation zones use layered audio effects, starting with subtle static that builds into a suffocating wall of noise mixed with biological feedback like your character's quickening heartbeat. These sounds don't just warn you of danger - they make you feel it physically, with your body tensing before your mind even processes the threat.
Piotr Musiał's soundtrack blends retro synthwave with more traditional orchestral elements to create something truly unique. Exploration features pulsing electronic rhythms that give a sense of forward momentum, while base sequences use ambient textures that reflect the psychological tension between Alters. The music's real genius lies in its restraint - rather than telling you how to feel, it creates space for emotions to emerge naturally. A recurring three-note motif might sound hopeful in one context and haunting in another, its meaning shifting with your choices.
What makes the sound design truly special is how all these elements work together. An Alter's voice might distort slightly when standing near an anomaly, their words competing with interference. The music's reverb expands during key moments, making conversations feel like they're happening in some vast, empty space. Even the absence of sound becomes a tool, with sudden silence creating tension so thick you can feel it.
This isn't just great game audio - it's audio that understands and enhances the medium. Every beep, voice line, and musical sting serves multiple purposes: conveying information, building atmosphere, and deepening your connection to the characters. In a game about confronting different versions of yourself, the sound design makes sure you don't just see those differences - you hear them, feel them, and ultimately, be able to have a distinct experience with each events.
I’ve always had a complicated relationship with sci-fi games. While I love the genre in films and books, most games reduce it to spaceship battles or sterile futuristic landscapes. The Alters is different. It’s sci-fi at its most human—set on a single, beautifully desolate planet where the only alien presence is the versions of yourself you’re forced to coexist with. There are no laser guns or warp drives here—just the raw, emotional weight of confronting who you are and who you could’ve been while stranded in a vast and lonely planet.
What makes this game special isn’t just its clever premise, but the care woven into every detail. Take that unassuming video tape Easter egg (spoiler alert)—where the developers appear in a heartfelt vlog, their genuine excitement for the project shining through. Moments like these remind you that games aren’t just products; they’re labors of love. That tape was a quiet “thank you” to players who took the time to explore. And that’s the magic of The Alters: it rewards curiosity with meaning, not just loot.
This review marks the beginning of Critically Curated—a passion project born from my desire to highlight games that deserve your time. The name isn’t about nitpicking flaws or scoring mechanics. It’s about being intentional (what I mean with the word “critically”) with recommendations—focusing on experiences that linger long after the credits roll. The Alters was the perfect catalyst for this because it embodies what I want to celebrate: games that dare to be different, that prioritize emotional resonance over empty spectacle.
If you take one thing from this, let it be this: The Alters isn’t just a survival game. It’s a mirror. One that reflects not just Jan’s fractured identity, but our own relationships with regret, resilience, and the paths we didn’t take. Whether you’re a sci-fi skeptic or a genre devotee, there’s something here to connect with. And if it leaves you half as moved as it left me? Well, that’s why I started this blog in the first place.
Here’s to more games worth playing—and to Level Up Your Playlist!, one enjoyable game at a time.
