11
Bit
Studios
has
a
bit
of
a
reputation
for
bleak,
thought-provoking
games
that
punch
you
in
the
soul
and
leave
you
emotionally
drained
on
the
floor.

This
War
of
Mine
and


Frostpunk
both
stood
out
because
they
didn’t
just
challenge
your
reflexes
or
resource
management—they
challenged
your
morals.
So
it
shouldn’t
be
a
surprise
that

The
Alters
picks
up
that
same
mantle
and
runs
with
it
into
sci-fi
territory,
asking
the
classic
question:
“What
if
you
could
meet
the
version
of
yourself
who
didn’t
screw
everything
up?”

That’s
the
crux
of

The
Alters.
You
play
as
Jan
Dolski,
a
poor
sod
marooned
on
a
hostile
alien
planet.
The
only
way
to
escape
is
to
keep
his
fancy
hamster-wheel
of
a
base
rolling
across
the
terrain
to
avoid
being
incinerated
by
the
sun,
all
while
gathering
resources,
fixing
constant
breakdowns,
and
dealing
with
clones
of
himself
made
using
a
weird
substance
called
Rapidium.
It’s
a
stressful
day
job
with
a
side
hustle
in
existential
crisis,
all
played
through
the
medium
of
a
survival-management
game.

Available
On:
PC,
Xbox
Series
S/X
(Game
Pass),
PlayStation
5
Reviewed
On:
PC
Developed
By:
11
Bit
Studios
Published
By:
11
Bit
Studios

Review
code
provided
by
the
publisher.

And
if
all
that
shite
wasn’t
enough,
you
also
need
to
negotiate
with
the
boss
who
keeps
calling
in
to
make
demands,
not
least
that
you
bring
home
plenty
of
Rapidium.
If
that
wasn’t
bad
enough,
some
idiot
even
gave
your
ex-wife
the
phone
number
for
your
space
base,
because
apparently
the
threat
of
being
burned
alive
or
potentially
murdered
by
yourself
just
isn’t
enough
to
deal
with.
Honestly,
the
ex-wife
is
probably
the
real
threat
in
that
scenario.
Maybe
you
can
pawn
a
clone
off
on
her?

It’s…
well,
it’s
a
lot
to
deal
with.
Shove
aside
the
sci-fi
moral
dilemmas
and
philosophical
discussions
that
arise
from
playing
God,
and
what
you’ve
basically
got
is
a
game
about
being
a
mid-level
manager
of
a
fucking
zoo
full
of
highly-trained
but
incredibly
belligerent
monkeys.

Each
day
in

The
Alters
plays
out
on
a
tight
timer.
You’ve
only
got
a
limited
window
before
the
deadly
sun
swings
back
around,
forcing
you
to
either
haul
your
mobile
base
to
safety
or
be
cooked
alive
like
a
jacket
potato.
That
means
every
moment
counts.
You’ll
spend
your
precious
daylight
hours
heading
out
in
third-person
to
scavenge
resources
like
metal,
organics,
and
crystals,
marking
nodes
for
your
Alters
to
harvest.
But
collecting
raw
materials
is
just
the
start—back
in
the
base,
those
same
resources
need
to
be
refined
and
processed
into
dozens
of
different
components:
filters
for
surviving
radiation,
structural
parts
for
base
upgrades,
and
various
doodads
needed
to
keep
your
crew
alive
and
your
sanity
intact.

Crafting
is
at
the
heart
of
the
gameplay
loop.
You
need
to
churn
out
exploration
tools
like
ladders
and
anchors
to
access
new
areas,
fabricate
vital
parts
to
expand
your
base
with
new
rooms,
and
keep
everyone
fed,
rested,
and
sane.
Every
system
feeds
into
another—can’t
build
a
new
room
without
structural
frames,
can’t
make
frames
without
processed
metals,
can’t
get
processed
metals
without
a
functioning
refiner,
and
so
on.
All
of
this
forces
tough
choices
about
how
to
spend
your
time
and
resources.
Do
you
upgrade
living
quarters
to
keep
the
Alters
happier,
or
do
you
build
a
new
battery
so
you
can
explore
further?
It’s
a
tightrope
act
of
priorities,
and
the
constant
ticking
clock
adds
a
real
sense
of
pressure
to
the
otherwise
methodical
resource
management.

Exploring
and
mining
is
handled
by
crafting
mining
outposts
and
plopping
them
down,
before
connecting
back
to
base
with
pylons.
First,
though,
you
have
to
use
an
awkward
scanning
system
to
locate
deposits,
which
feels
like
it
was
built
purely
to
eat
into
the
already
limited
time
you
get
per
day.
Loose
resources
scattered
about
the
place
can
be
picked
up
too,
while
you’re
busy
blasting
through
walls
or
picking
up
personal
items
which
can
be
given
to
alters
to
boost
their
mood.

Here’s
a
general
day
in
the
life
of
Jan:
you
wake
up
and
immediately
assign
some
Alters
to
mining
for
organics
and
metals,
while
you
head
to
crafting
stations
to
pump
out
radiation
filters
and
mush
for
the
crew
to
eat.
Then
it’s
off
out
the
door
to
grab
minerals
because
you
need
to
make
bridge
anchors
to
cross
a
lava
river.
But
wait,
because
everything
in
the
base
is
breaking,
the
miner
is
having
some
sort
of
weird
meltdown,
there’s
a
magnetic
storm
coming,
you
need
to
build
more
storage,
the
sun
is
on
its
way
to
end
your
game,
the
boss
is
on
the
phone,
the
alters
all
want
something,
there’s
weird-arse
anomalies
floating
about
and

jesus
fucking
christ
would
everybody
just
shut
up
for
five
seconds,
I
can’t
even
hear
myself
think!

The
other
thing
you
have
to
deal
with
is
the
multiple
clones
of
yourself
running
around
the
place,
all
voiced
by
Alex
Jordan,
who
seems
to
be
having
great
fun
swapping
accents.
Their
attitudes
toward
you
tend
to
range
from
apathy
to
downright
hatred,
and
in
one
instance
murderous
rage.
To
keep
everything
running
and
the
base
from
being
turned
into
the
shittiest
sauna
ever,
you’ll
need
to
massage
these
various
personalities
via
dialogue
choices
and
deciding
whether
to
spend
resources
on
their
needs
and
wants.
They
sure
don’t
make
it
easy,
mind
you
–
by
act
1,
one
of
my
alters
had
chopped
his
arm
off,
possibly
because
I
took
his
drugs
away.
You
need
these
walking,
talking
embodiments
of
mental
health
functioning
so
that
you
can
assign
them
to
maintaining
the
base,
drilling
for
resources
you’ve
marked
out
and
about
1
billion
other
jobs.

There’s
something
brilliantly
messed
up
about
the
entire
concept,
and
in
true
11
Bit
fashion,
it’s
not
just
a
gimmick.
These
aren’t
generic
clones—they’re
alters,
born
from
different
paths
your
life
could
have
taken.
One
might
be
a
war
vet,
another
a
computer
engineer,
and
yet
another
a
broken
addict.
Each
one
comes
with
a
skillset
you
need
to
survive,
but
also
with
baggage
you’ll
need
to
unpack
if
you
want
them
to
function
properly.
The
psychological
element
isn’t
just
window
dressing—it’s
integral
to
the
gameplay
and
narrative.
The
moral
choices
feel
genuine
and
heavy,
offering
rich
“what
if”
scenarios
that
are
compelling
enough
to
warrant
multiple
playthroughs.
You
simply
can’t
see
all
the
alters
in
one
run,
and
that’s
a
big
part
of
what
makes

The
Alters
so
replayable.

The
comparisons
to
Duncan
Jones’

Moon
are
obvious—and
intentional.
This
is
sci-fi
in
the
classic
sense:
philosophical,
character-driven,
and
more
interested
in
identity
than
aliens.
It
doesn’t
have
blockbuster
bombast.
It’s
closer
in
spirit
to
a
moody
indie
film
with
a
double-A
budget,
and
while
that
budget
is
usually
used
very
well—especially
in
the
game’s
art
design—you
can
see
the
seams
in
the
facial
animations
and
the
occasionally
janky
movements.
But
damn
if
it
doesn’t
still
manage
to
be
visually
striking,
with
its
moody
lighting,
stark
alien
landscapes
and
the
base
itself,
which
looks
like
a
hamster
wheel
made
by
Ikea
after
a
few
drinks.

The
problem
is
that
I’d
have
to
lie
to
say
I
liked
playing

The
Alters.
That
isn’t
a
fault
of
the
game—the
survival
and
management
elements
are
executed
very
well,
as
the
many
other
glowing
reviews
and
loving
comments
from
players
can
attest.
No,
the
issue
is
purely
with
me
and
my
malfunctioning
brain.
Due
to
some
boring
personal
reasons,
I’m
a
little…
er,
frazzled
at
the
moment,
and
the
result
was
that
my
brain
rebelled
at
all
of
the
management
and
resources
and
decisions
and
constant
need
to
be
doing
all
the
things
but
only
being
able
to
do
some
of
the
things.
It
felt
overwhelming,
in
a
way,
like
a
job
that
was
weighing
me
down.
In
short,
playing
it
felt
stressful,
but
not
in
the
enjoyable
way
that
other
11
Bit
titles
like

Frostpunk
did.
That
isn’t
the
fault
of

The
Alters,
though.

So
here’s
the
honest
truth:

The
Alters
is
a
brilliant
game.
It’s
clever.
It’s
original.
It’s
got
all
the
emotional
weight
and
moral
murkiness
you’d
expect
from
11
Bit,
wrapped
up
in
a
fascinating
sci-fi
package.
But
it’s
not
going
to
be
for
everyone.
The
complexity
of
managing
your
base,
your
clones,
and
your
sanity
can
be
too
much.
The
technical
issues
at
launch—some
of
which
are
still
being
ironed
out—don’t
help.
And
if
you’re
already
mentally
wiped
like
I
was,
it
can
feel
like
too
much
of
a
slog.

But
if
you’re
in
the
right
headspace?

The
Alters
is
one
of
the
most
unique
narrative
experiences
of
the
year.
It’s
ambitious,
heartfelt,
and
packed
full
of
clever
ideas
that
deserve
to
be
played,
discussed,
and
dissected.
Just
maybe
don’t
let
your
clones
read
the
reviews—you
don’t
want
them
getting
any
ideas.