Atomfall, the latest survival-action brainchild from Sniper Elite creator Rebellion, offers a uniquely immersive experience rooted in the ethereal landscapes of an irradiated English countryside. In 90 minutes of gameplay, I found myself indulging in Atomfall’s open-ended mission design and eerie atmospheric undertones—and succumbing to a violent rampage that left me questioning my moral compass.
Upon attending a hands-on session in a North London pub, I was immediately taken in by the game’s modus operandi: every non-playable character (NPC) is fair game. The world is your oyster, and thus, every face is a potential target. Armed with a cricket bat baptized in claret, I embarked on an audacious experiment to test the limits of this killable universe.
As I traversed the fictitious landscape, my path stumbled upon a visual homage to the famed folk horror trope: a looming wicker man, untouched and ready for ignition. Its towering presence only added to the unsettling mood that permeates Atomfall’s “open zones.” The unsettlingly atmospheric “Casterfall Woods” offered a haunting stage for my descent into madness.
From dispatching a trio of druids with my newly looted bow and arrow—momentarily embodying a deranged Robin Hood—to navigating the metaphorical heartbeat of Atomfall’s unique stamina system, the game constantly kept me on my toes. This heart rate monitor mechanic doesn’t just add tension— it simulates the visceral experience of high-stakes survival, rewarding players who finely tune their character’s abilities.
Yet, the question lingered: what lay at the heart of this seemingly idyllic yet twisted locale? My cursory wanderings hinted at a deeper narrative: an irradiated England, a sinister plant swirling with oily hues, and an ominous phone box warning of the perils ahead.
Eventually, a mystery unfolded around a quest involving NPC Mother Jago and her missing herbalism book—a quest uncharacteristically devoid of handholding. This design choice mirrors the cryptic allure of classic point-and-click adventures, demanding that players engage with every narrative minutiae to progress.
Despite my violent diversion, Atomfall skillfully refused to divulge its secrets. NPCs met their demise only for the plot to thicken: should I have deciphered the map’s cryptic coordinates better, perhaps the herbalism book would have been within my grasp, latent yet unmissable.
For those tantalizing in-depth exploration and a storyline that rewards diegetic inquiry as much as traditional FPS engagement, Atomfall is a paraffin torch blazing amidst a myriad of cookie-cutter survival games. It is a narrative Rubik’s Cube set in a world where your choices—a violent brushstroke here, a merciful glance there—could alter your unique ending remarkably.
One thing is evident; Rebellion’s experimental world demands patience and curiosity but ultimately provides a chaotically beautiful descent into madness—and redemption—in its sprawling, scenic countryside. Whether your journey marches in lockstep with mine or diverges fantastically through a backdrop of killer robots and mysterious mutants, Atomfall promises an experience as dynamic and distinctive as its gory, gritty landscape.
For now, bat in hand and conscience bloodied, I find solace in the ordinary: returning to the tactile comfort of a British pub, awaiting the moment where Atomfall’s cursed chaos might unravel or reconstruct on a second, more nuanced playthrough.
