NodeFeat
Still reading? The black tide is back. No bones, no end. You don't build a base: you grow one, a mutant tree of concrete and steel, hungry for death. Order its branches, rewrite the ground, grind them to paste. There is no future. There is the wall.
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Overview
Summary
Still reading? The black tide is back. No bones, no end. You don't build a base: you grow one, a mutant tree of concrete and steel, hungry for death. Order its branches, rewrite the ground, grind them to paste. There is no future. There is the wall.
Description
About This Game
THERE ARE STORIES, OPERATOR.
1439. Wolves inside Paris. The battle of Courtaud. We saw this swarm then. This mud. It went down into the necromancers' pentacle, under the dark city. Nobody saw it again. Until tonight. THE BLACK TIDE IS BACK
IT HAS NO BONES. GRIND IT TO PASTE.
Every black bead out there is one body. Not a texture. One body.
A million. A billion. It changes NOTHING about your orders.
It flows like mud, heaps up against your walls, and climbs.
YOU DON'T BUILD A BASE. YOU GROW ONE.
Other games hand you a build menu. There is none here.
Your base is a tree of nodes: a mutant organism of concrete and steel.
It grows. It feeds. It is hungry for death.
GROW: add a node, raise a concrete cell. Its borders are your walls.
No build phase. No pause. Everything grows and rebuilds in real time, under fire. (Yep. It's the future.)
A BRUTALIST LANDSCAPE ARCHITECT.
Every node you grow frames a piece of the land. Every wall you raise cuts a view.
Grow, dig, raise: you are not only killing. You are composing.
Inside, the cells stay empty. Concrete, silence, void. Nothing lives in there.
Looks like a prison? Perfect. I don't advise you to leave the base.
The calm lasts as long as the front holds.
THE WALL OF DEATH: every wall hides casemates, waiting in the dark. Upgrade them: thicker concrete, more casemates, more firepower. Ready to let the powder talk.
THE TREE IS THE CHAIN OF COMMAND.
Other games select units. You give orders down the branches.
Parents command. Leaves obey. Cut one node, its whole branch goes dark.
Send the war effort where the ground says it matters.
CUT THE QUIET SIDE: the war effort floods the live front. Faster guns, longer flames, harder siphons
MOVE: drag a node in real time. Its walls follow and push the enemy back.
THE RADAR GROWS. NEVER THE SAME WAY TWICE.
An incremental radar tree on steroids: roguelite upgrades between contacts.
Radar waves ripple out from your nodes.
Drag a whole branch across the radar so two waves overlap. Where they cross, combos fire.
OTHERS DEFEND THE MAP. YOU REWRITE IT.
The tide flows like mud and reads every slope.
Terraform in real time. Make the ground fight for you.
DIG: carve a moat around the walls. The mud falls in
RAISE: lift the ground. The fortress rides it up.
EVERY KILL PAYS. SPEND IT ON MORE TEETH.
Every body ground to paste pays credit.
Credit grows nodes, walls and guns. Every shot burns some.
Spend now to hold. Or starve now to grow bigger.
IN CASE THAT WAS NOT CLEAR ENOUGH.
GENRE: single-player base defense, played in contacts.
THE LOOP: no build phase. The tide starts far out: build while you watch it come, and keep building under fire.
THE LOSS: lose the core, the run is over.
THE GUNS: turrets on the nodes, fire from the walls, siphons that swallow the tide.
THE GROUND: terraform in real time. The tide reads every slope.
THE ENEMY: one black tide, millions strong. No bones. No mercy. No end.
NodeFeat
ONE NODE. HOLD IT. NO DEFEAT.
NO FUTURE. NO MAN'S LAND. ONLY THE WALL.
NOW MOVE.
