Every now and then, a game comes along that doesn’t try to overwhelm you with choices or mechanics — it just wants you to feel something. Still Wakes the Deep is one of those games.

The story is perfectly paced. No moment lingers longer than it should, and the sense of progression feels deliberate and natural. It’s a story that knows when to breathe and when to tighten its grip.

What really grabbed me, though, was the atmosphere. The oil rig setting is brilliant — equal parts isolation, urgency, and desperation. You can almost feel the salt air clinging to the metal and hear the ocean grinding away beneath your feet. It’s grounded and believable, yet quietly infected by cosmic horror — the kind that doesn’t roar so much as whisper that something incomprehensible is waiting just beyond the light.

The protagonist’s flashbacks were a highlight for me. They’re not just filler; they deepen the character and remind you that the real horror isn’t always what’s chasing you, but what’s already inside your head.

Visually, the game is stunning. The rig looks alive — every flicker of light, every creak of steel feels authentic. It ran beautifully on my PS5, which helped keep me immersed even when things got chaotic.

And yes, at its core, it’s a walking simulator. But it’s done so well that it never feels like a limitation. A few light platforming moments and hide-and-seek encounters break things up, but the heart of the experience is simply moving through this place, listening, feeling, remembering.

The few combat encounters play out like desperate escapes — sprinting down narrow halls away from something that feels like it came straight out of Lovecraft’s notebook, or crouching in the dark, waiting for a chance to make a distraction and bolt. They’re arguably the game’s weakest parts, but they’re brief, and they never overstay their welcome.

By the time the credits rolled, I didn’t feel drained or frustrated — I felt like I’d just come up for air. Still Wakes the Deep isn’t about surviving monsters so much as surviving yourself. It’s eerie, emotional, and beautifully put together.