Petro-Horror Strategy Game Anoxia Station Makes Frostpunk Look Positively Cozy
Do you know that unsettling moment when you drop a shiny pen under your bed, and upon peering underneath, you find it winking at you from a dark underworld of dust bunnies, patches of mildew, and...
Do you know that unsettling moment when you drop a shiny pen under your bed, and upon peering underneath, you find it winking at you from a dark underworld of dust bunnies, patches of mildew, and other strange detritus that’s definitely absorbing more light than it should? Just me? Maybe it’s time to break out the mold spray more often.
Alright, how about this, then: Remember being a kid and flipping over a smooth, round stone in your backyard, only to watch the writhing retreat of translucent, boneless creatures and feel the tickle of countless little legs? That is the ambience of Anoxia Station, a turn-based strategy game where you drill for oil in a world that really doesn’t want you there. There’s a rough-edged demo on Itch.io right now, but let me tell you—I’m absolutely sold on the atmosphere.
In Anoxia Station, you command a massive mobile rig burrowing deeper and deeper into a dying planet. Each chapter involves deploying your rig so that you can construct all kinds of resource-generating facilities—like refineries and convertors—while scanning the radar for petroleum deposits. Once you’ve found a promising spot, you either move your entire operation over or expand your reach to tap into that oil.
Naturally, keeping your crew alive, satisfied, and (most importantly) non-mutinous is no easy feat. Everything around you is ready to kill your people, or at least thoroughly ruin their day: extreme heat, a lack of breathable air, radiation hazards, earthquakes, aggressive fungal growth, betrayal from within, and—worst of all—insects. Lots of insects. You’ll want to avoid those if you know what’s good for you.
At this very moment, my proud drilling rig, the HMS Dork Fortress, is uncomfortably close to a cluster of enormous eggs—each the size of a sperm whale. I have absolutely no interest in learning what’s inside them. If anyone on the crew asks, I’ll just say they’re exceptionally sticky rocks. Also, I’m building a watchtower ASAP so I can stock our team with grenades. Just in case.
Every level is a semi-randomized, tile-based nightmare, viewed from a tight, slightly angled 2D perspective. Your buildings—shadowy assemblies of pipes, windows, and turbines—huddle together in the hazy gloom, their details blurred by mist and the camera’s unsettling wobble. The background audio is a storm of machine hums, seismic rumblings, and bizarre organic sounds that make you feel like you’ve intruded on something that might soon intrude back.
I’m in love with the vibe. I’m less enamored with the teeny-tiny icons and text that make up the user interface. Even with tutorial prompts, finding what you need can be a hassle—especially since each turn is on a timer. You can pause using F11, but you can’t queue up commands while paused, so mastering the interface is crucial to avoiding panic in this hostile environment. Hopefully I’ll adjust in time, but if I ever have to oversee some truly intricate drilling operation, the fiddly UI might become a real headache. For now, I’m just worried about the tiles around my rig—especially the one with those “sticky rocks.”