CAPSULE
2018 OCT 14
(PC, 2012)
It's very cold. You feel the heat emanate into the vacuum outside. It's getting hard to breathe. Your capsule's rumbles louden as you step on the gas and see two dots on the terminal in front of you, one just in front of you, and one off to the side. The battery's starting to run a bit low, but at least you've got some time before the oxygen's gone. You slow the capsule down to save on energy and scan it, hoping to see an air tank. The two dots are detected, and the closer one is a pocket of air. It'll have to do. Slowly, your ship hits it, and it's easier to breathe. You take a deep gasp of air and cough out the nothingness from your lungs. You still have a long way to go, but at least you won't die any time soon.
The second dot gets identified. It's a drone. It locks on you and starts to chase. You hit the gas, hoping you can outrun it, but it crashes into you. The power goes out. Fuck. What am I going to do? You never had any training, nobody ever told you how your capsule worked. You just saw that you could rotate it, change the speed and probe. Is that really it? No, wait, you figure out an option. You prime the ship and try to get the power running again. The engine sputters violently, but nothing happens. You try again. Nothing. The air's running low. No. Try again. It failed. Everything's going dark. TRY AGAIN. It's not working. Smash at controls. They beep, do nothing. No more air. You die. Cold. Alone. Acceptance.
This is a fact you're going to have to get used to when you play Capsule. Adam Saltsman's game is a depressing affair, where you know you're going to die, you just don't know how long until you do. The game presents itself as the simplest terminal. It's cold, it's blue, the image bleeds a bit, a scanline periodically goes down the screen, distorting everything along its path like it's an old VHS tape. You hear the hum of your ship, the drone of the space behind your walls, the terminal beeping when it scans the void around you. Your character breathing, oxygen escaping your capsule. Numbers broadcast out to nowhere by a broken transmitter from a ship time has lost and forgot. Everything is predictable, but it's the experience that gets you.