Tidewrack

You wake up lashed to a few logs. No land. No boat. No memory of how you got here. Just water, in every direction. Then a plank drifts past. You've got a harpoon. And from here on, the story is yours to write. You're alone, until you're not Gather wood. Fish. Don't die of thirst. Then, one day, you pull someone out of the water. They're alive. And just like that, survival becomes responsibility. 14 jobs are waiting to be assigned: fisher, blacksmith, guard, cook. Your people bond. They argue. They get sick. And you're the one who decides whether your logs become a town, or a wreck. The deep doesn't play by your rules There's a whole world under your raft. Reefs. Wrecks. Fish flashing in the dark. But your air runs out before you've seen it all, and without goggles, everything blurs into murk anyway. Whatever you miss on the first dive is still waiting for you on the second. Everything changes when the sun goes down Boats come at night. Raiders hack through your walls while you sleep, or don't sleep, because you're standing watch instead. A shark circles your deck, patient, like it knows it just has to wait. A storm tears at everything you've built. And when your battery bank runs dry, the lights go out first, right when you need them most. There's an answer, if you can find it 26 research nodes give you the tools to actually survive, not just hang on. Debris fields drift by on the horizon. Miss them, and they're gone for good. And somewhere in between, scattered across 24 message-in-a-bottle fragments, is the answer to the one question that's been nagging you since you woke up on those logs: why did the world drown in the first place? At the end of it all, something is waiting. Bigger than your raft. Bigger than anything you've seen so far. The leviathan.