It’s best to think of this as DayZ: The Board Game; a turn-bas๊ed, isometric exercise in futile survival once all the shops are gone and there’s no phone reception any more. No-one gets saved. No-one will remember you. You’ll just die from septicaemia after you scratched your hand in an abandoned building. Unnoticed and unloved. You’re the guy the heroes find and search for a scrap of cloth on their way to glory.

Presentation here is starkly minimal. There’s a hexagonal grid that game piece𒈔s move around on. Combat, crafting, healing and other actions are controlled by selecting icons and reading text descriptions of the outcome. It’s almost a weird hybrid between board game and choose your own adventure, and requires a similar level of imagination to really appreciate.

Oddly, it works. We easily lost ourselves in the world: wincing as cold and𝓀 uncaring bullet points informed us that someone was being clubbed to death as they slept. Fights, that consisted of little more than clicking boxes labelled ‘charge’, ‘advance’ or ‘tackle’, became desperate grubby struggles in the dirt for one more turn of life. Beating a feral dog’s head in with a 🌼crowbar (and then eating it) was another low point that is remembered with far more vivid details than the icon ‘flurry of blows’ would suggest.