Abiotic Factor restored my faith in survival games

Before I played Abiotic Factor I thought I was completely over survival games. Turns out I was just tired of punching the same trees, crafting the same pickaxes, and digging the same holes I’ve been digging since Minecraft was new. Abiotic delivers the survival must-haves like crafting, hunger, sleeping, and fighting in a setting this genre has never seen—bands of scientist dorks trapped in an underground facility after a Black Mesa-like disaster. It’s co-op survival with a splash of immersive sim and sci-fi intrigue, and it’s very good.

Abiotic Factor is wonderfully weird. It’s approximately day 85 of the Gate Cascade Research Facility disaster. That has translated to 35 real hours of a playthrough we’ve chipped away at since May. We’re still in the process of moving our base from the chemical wing to our new home in R&D, and our party of five is unrecognizable from where we started.

Our cook, who once wore an apron and chef hat that buffed his soup-making prowess, is covered head-to-toe in body armor carved from the carapace of interdimensional creatures. Our botanist has graduated from growing tomatoes to taming pet monsters. Our security guard is on an obsessive quest to power-level her strength stats by shaking vending machines, picking up couches, and hauling 200 pounds of gear. Our chemist recently invented a “tech mace,” and its awesome power is going straight to her head.

Meanwhile, I’m a lab assistant who recently shit his pants. The accident wasn’t entirely my fault—a face-hugging pest had just got loose in our makeshift bathroom corner and broken our one communal toilet, so when a voice line warned me that “I really need to use the restroom soon,” it was already too late. For my scientist, PhD now stands for “poops horrifically downward.”

Pooping is an important mechanic in Abiotic Factor, not only because I can bag it up and make it into manure, but because Abio isn’t just about surviving—it’s about taking care of myself.

Abio constantly rewards me for doing normal human things—like sleeping a full eight hours—and slaps me on the wrist for being a survival gremlin. Adventuring too long without a snack increases fatigue, stamina drains quicker when I’m thirsty, and I move slower when sleepy. But if I wake up, drink some water, and eat breakfast like a well-adjusted person, I trigger the hidden “Copacetic” buff: “You’re well fed, hydrated and in your element. You lose 10% less stamina and you heal faster.” I love that. 

I also love Abiotic Factor’s quirky tech tree designed around its workplace setting. Everything you build at first is so delightfully DIY: One of the first weapons I crafted was a crossbow made from a meter stick, chair leg, rubber bands, and markers. The only thing that kept me alive during our harrowing first days in the facility was a cafeteria tray shield. Recipes call for raw materials like wood, plastic, or tech scrap, but most blueprints also require a core item that isn’t always readily available. You can’t just throw some plastic and metal together and make a toilet, for instance—you have to go find a bucket in a janitor’s closet.

What impresses me most about Abiotic Factor is the blistering pace of its updates. The game’s been in early access for just over six months and is about to get its second expansion that adds multiple new wings of the facility, instanced portal worlds, and teleportation tech. Between major updates, developer Deep Field Games has consistently dropped smaller patches that add quality-of-life features, improve existing systems, and sneak in cool surprises (like even nerdier ties).

I tend to avoid games while they’re in early access because it sucks to get into a groove and then hit an “under construction” sign, but that hasn’t been an issue at all in Abio. We’ve been taking it slow and still haven’t reached the new areas added in the “Crush Depth” update a few months ago. The game is filling up faster than we can play it: Deep Field plans to hit 1.0 next year with its “Cold Fusion” update and already has ideas for what comes after.

That’s why I didn’t put up a big fight for Abiotic Factor in our end-of-year awards—it really feels like the best is yet to come for this already extremely good co-op survival game. It’s decently popular on Steam already, but I hope 2025 is the year Abio gets all the recognition it deserves.