Subnautica and Atmosphere: Behavioral design in the Mountains and the Dunes
The previous article in this series started the exploration of Subnautica’s atmosphere through its visual design and sound design. This article will examine behavioural design and how it contributes to the atmosphere in other areas of the game.
While the Blood Kelp Zone is certainly creepy and the Lost River is claustrophobic and uncomfortable, a true sense of terror is only created in the largest and most open areas of the game, the ‘Mountains’ and the ‘Dunes’. These areas bring together visual design, sound design and enemy design to create a truly foreboding experience. Both of these areas are, compared to the rest of the game, extremely open – while much of the game’s exploration, particularly later on, takes place in smaller enclosed cave systems, the mountains and dunes are at the edge of the map in each direction, meaning they open out into huge underwater valleys and hills, with titanic drop-offs and great vistas of open, murky water each way you turn.
A screenshot giving an overview of part of the ‘Mountains’.
Here, the designers exploit our natural fear of the ocean and open spaces to masterful effect. As you journey through the dunes, you are painfully aware of your vulnerability, the huge expanse of water in front and behind, and often below you, constantly provoking the player to wonder what could be lurking just beyond your point of view. And the player is not simply being paranoid in wondering this: these areas are also the location of one of the biggest (and definitely the scariest) threats in Subnautica’s world: the ‘Reaper Leviathan’. These are titanic creatures that dwarf you and even the largest submarines you can build to protect you. Serpentine and angular, with huge mandibles and a pronged tail, the Reaper is a huge and intimidating threat.
Concept Art of the Reaper, attacking a submarine.
In the wide regions of the Dunes and Mountains, it is almost impossible to be snuck up on by a creature so huge, but it is not uncommon to see its shadow on the edge of your field of vision, obscured in the water and a safe distance away, but always making you aware of its threat. Indeed, within these areas the Reapers are always on your mind, even when you can’t see them, because you will certainly hear them. Hearing the sound of the Reaper’s roar is one of the most memorable moments in Subnautica. It usually occurs fairly early on in the game, before the player has any submarine, innocently wandering into an area like the Mountains, unprepared for what might occur. The roar is primal and powerful, meatier than the screeches of many of the other predators the player encounters, and can be heard from much further away than the player’s ability to actually see the leviathan. Take a listen here.
Already, the player is terrified, and usually they will run away from the big scary noise and won’t return to the area where they heard it for a while. When they do, they will face not only the roar but the prospect of actually finding its source. In this way, the roar of the reaper creates a wonderful sense of atmospheric terror. Being able to hear it from so far away means that even when the leviathan is far from a genuine threat – the distance at which the creatures actually hunt the player is much less than the distance at which they are audible – it still remains in the forefront of the player’s awareness. It is impossible to forget that the reapers are present, because if you do not see their shadows in the water above you, you will hear them calling from afar.
This effect is then heightened to a point of horror when you find a scientific entry on the leviathan in game, in which it describes the creature’s use of echolocation. Its roar is not just an intimidation tactic, but a specially evolved way of navigating the environments of 4546B. If you can hear it, then it knows where you are. If the experience of exploring in darkness in reaper-populated areas was scary enough, this piece of evidence, usually found later on in the game, retroactively increases the horror of your past experiences, rendering the effect of hearing the reaper’s roar almost paralysing.
A deep drop-off in the Mountains, where you will usually hear a Reaper’s roar.
The PDA – an AI companion which accompanies you throughout the game – has a voice line when you first enter the Dunes area: "Detecting multiple leviathan class lifeforms in the region. Are you certain whatever you’re doing is worth it?" Personally, when I first heard this line, I immediately turned round and headed back to the safety of the shallows, but even for those who continued to explore, whenever you enter the dunes from then on, the line sticks in your head. The game does not let you forget the threat you incur when entering areas like this. In this way, Subnautica consistently builds an atmosphere of terror and discomfort through a combination of lighting, sound design and creature design, which builds on the player’s pre-existing conception of an underwater world, and the natural fears of the unknown that come with it.
This concludes the exploration of visual design, sound design and behavioural design and how it creates atmosphere within Subnautica. The next article in the series will explore the most important part of Subnautica’s horror design: its careful manipulation of player agency.
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