What’s your least favourite water level? It’sMario, isn’t it? Whether two dimensions or three, Nintendo just can’t seem to get the plumber’s underwater escapades right. That’s the case for me, anyway. I’m sure some of you said theWater Temple in Ocarina of Time(not technically underwater). If you saidTomb Raideror Sonic, I’ll allow it, but I maintain that Mario is consistently worse. If you said Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, you’re a lot older than me and are probably right.
The latest game with problematic water levels isThe Forever Winter, but not all is as it seems. The survival extraction shooter gives a swish sci-fi vibe to theTarkov-esqueouting, but its early access period is being marred by an unfortunate plumbing problem. Someone get Mario Mario on the blower.
The Forever Winter has a water tank. Or, more accurately, you do. You need to keep it topped up so you can stay hydrated and all that good stuff. So far, so good. However, it drains over time. Real time.
If you leave the game overnight? Your water level drops by the time you log in again the next morning. Go a few days without playing? I’m sorry kiddo, that water level has dropped to zero and your progress has been completely reset. You keep your experience, but lose all your loot, your base, and your dignity as you throw a nearby wrench at your computer screen.
It’s infuriating, especially in what is otherwise an interesting (if slightly underbaked) game. Tying your survival to real world timers is unfair and, more importantly, unfun. It strikes you as a cheap trick to force engagement, to keep players coming back day after day. Games figured out a long time ago that the best way of doing this was through incentives rather than punishments, but that message seems to have been lost in the u-bend on the way to The Forever Winter’s launch.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, Fable 2 used to pay you money depending on how many houses and businesses you owned. If you’re away from the game for a week, you’ll log into a week’s worth of earnings.
Players are clever enough to see through this kind of thing. We’ve seen enough battle passes to know they’re all scams, and we’ve seen enough limited-time events to know that companies prey on FOMO in order to empty our wallets. The Forever Winter isn’t doing anything as malicious as that, but its water level trick still comes across poorly to a more media literate gamer.
It also ruins your immersion - and no, that’s (for the first time in this article) not an intentional pun. If, as soon as you log into your survival game, your water level has decreased to the point of failure, you immediately think of all the things you’ve done IRL that have unwittingly aided your digital survival. Why did I need to wash so many dishes? Why did I sleep in? Why did I offer the boiler repair man another coffee?
I don’t want to think about the real world when determining my odds of survival in a dystopian future. I want to take into account the mechs that may crush me beneath their toes like I’m a pitiful bug. I want to manage my inventory, ensure I have enough food and ammunition. I don’t want to have to reconcile the fact that I ate last night’s leftovers for breakfast and therefore it puts me at a disadvantage in-game. Real life shouldn’t play any part in this world, they’re entirely separate entities. So why should a timer tick over when we’re logged out?
The Forever Winter has launched to enough complaints that I think it will change this system. That’s what early access is for, after all. But it just goes to show that it’s harder than it looks to pull the wool over gamers' eyes, especially when it comes to water levels. By this point, we’ve suffered through Jolly Roger Bay enough times that we’re practically plumbers ourselves.
