It’s a Tough Day Down in the Mine
If we had to pick a vibe for this week’s brand-new descent into Icarus—RocketWerkz’s charming survival experience about corporate neglect and breathable air being optional—it would be best captured by the spirit of a certain Johnny Cash song. You know the one. The cautionary tale about young men, bad decisions, and places where the sun politely declines to visit.
Not quoting it. Just… gesturing broadly in its direction while shivering.
Think:
Don’t go underground chasing riches, because the darkness gets into your bones, danger multiplies, joy goes missing, and eventually even your blood feels like it’s been replaced with coal slurry.
That sort of energy. Delivered, naturally, by Johnny Cash, patron saint of bad ideas with excellent rhythm.
Welcome to Icarus (Please Sign the Waiver)
Welcome to the new frontier: Icarus, a planet orbiting a gas giant, famous for its failed terraforming project and complete lack of breathable atmosphere. Yes, it’s true—you don’t just have to worry about hunger, thirst, or wildlife that wants to wear you as a hat. You also can’t breathe the air.
But fear not. The company has thoughtfully issued us cheap spacesuits. And while it’s true that in space no one can hear you scream, on Icarus you can still hear Craig whining, which is honestly worse.
Craig, of course, did not read the backstory. He got as far as “Icarus is” and then stopped, presumably because the sentence did not immediately contain an explosion or a ladder. While “Icarus is” is technically accurate, it does omit some key details—like “actively hostile to human life” and “operated by people who hate you.”
According to the company flyer, Icarus is about exploration, exotic materials, and getting rich.
“What even is exotic material?” asks Myles.
Dave responds: “Think the floating rocks in Avatar.”
This is, as usual, complete nonsense, confidently delivered.
Touchdown Expectations vs. Reality
We arrive at the space station, pick our favorite-colored spacesuits, and strap into rockets for a dramatic, high-tech plunge to the surface. The landing is spectacular. The valley is beautiful. The pod door opens.
We leap out, sprint to the storage crate, ready to collect our guns, automated mining tools, self-assembling houses, and helpful robot assistants.
We open it.
It’s empty.
Nothing. Zip. Nada.
“CRAIG,” we all yell in unison, “did you throw out the gear to make room for your fluffy toys?”
“I did mothing,” says Craig—and for once, it’s true.
Inside the crate is a single piece of paper. We read it:
Welcome to the new frontier. We’re still waiting on your delivery of high-tech equipment. Good luck. Don’t get eaten by a bear.
WTF. No, seriously. WTF.
We cross the universe in a spaceship and are immediately reduced to picking up sticks and stones like particularly stupid cavemen in space pajamas.
The Birth of Island Fort Dumb
Myles and Zaph, clearly suffering untreated PTSD from Riftbreaker, decide we need defenses immediately. They choose an island base—natural moat, poisonous water, bitey fish. A tactical masterstroke.
We build a hut. It has walls. Sort of. And a bedroll. Which is optimism in fabric form.
Dave eventually arrives to “check progress,” at which point we formalize our division of labor:
Zaph: Hunting, mining, industrial production. First invention: an oxidizer that turns rocks into oxygen, which feels illegal but appreciated.
Myles: Medical supplies, bandages, splints, clean water. First invention: a water filter, because someone has to be responsible.
Dave: Architect, botanist, farmer. First invention: a double-storey barn, because of course it is.
Craig: Lumberjack. First invention: a fire pit and the complete ecological annihilation of our island.
Progress, Storms, and Structural Criticism
Zaph builds a bridge so we don’t have to swim through the poison water. We hide from storms. Zaph complains that half the walls Dave built are backwards—logs inside, smooth side out. Craig fells a tree, which lands directly on our hut and caves in the roof.
Soon we have water bags, oxygen pouches, stone tools, and weapons. It’s all coming together. At this rate, another hundred years and we’ll invent electricity.
Dave expands the base with crafting stations. Zaph hunts. Myles gathers medicinal plants. Craig breaks rocks. We acquire a workshop bench, an anvil, a smelter, then later a mortar & pestle, herbalist bench, and skinning table.
Civilization. Briefly.
Down in the Mine (Cue the Cash Vibes)
Zaph and Myles go mining. Hence the theme song energy. It’s cold, dark, cramped, and full of poisonous worms that absolutely should not exist. The tunnels hold copper, iron, aluminum, titanium, coal, gold—basically everything except joy.
We can mine copper and iron with stone tools, which feels like the universe mocking us personally.
Missions, Storms, and Corporate Disappointment
Zaph builds a mission board so the company can provide us with additional ways to die. We also gain the ability to call down resupplies—like shiny backpacks that let us carry 15% more crap, which is exactly how much hope we had left.
We take a survey mission. Zaph builds a tower. The rest of us clear-cut an entire forest to supply it. A storm warning comes in. Dave panic-builds walls and floors at the tower base. We huddle around a fire like traumatized scouts.
The scanner completes. The company gives us a reward. Zaph claims it instantly, then runs back to camp and hides it while we argue about how we were cheated.
Corn, Pumpkins, and Questionable Animal Ethics
Craig discovers corn and harvests every stalk. Dave gathers it all.
“Where are you guys?” asks Myles.
“Sheesh, corn doesn’t pick itself,” replies Dave, immediately spotting wheat and hoarding that too.
Craig embraces the Halloween spirit, collecting pumpkins and roasting them.
Zaph kills a horse so he can emotionally manipulate its foal into becoming a mount, feeding it raw meat so it grows up feral and hostile. This is somehow effective.
The Bear Incident (Plural)
Flushed with success, Myles suggests another mission: hunt and kill an epic creature. Off we go, practicing on wildlife. Lessons learned:
Deer run.
Wolves attack.
Rabbits just… die.
Eventually, we find it. A level 56 bear.
We sneak up and open fire. Arrows everywhere. The bear notices and ignores them. It murders Dave immediately. Craig runs.
“STOP RUNNING,” yells Myles. “We can’t hit it!”
The bear resolves this by killing Craig.
Zaph draws aggro. The bear eats him, chews thoughtfully, and spits him out. Myles hides until the bear wanders off, then patches us up and we flee in shame.
Revenge Planning & Achievements
We swear vengeance. We mine iron for hours. We slaughter animals for bone armor and arrows. Myles learns how to make hedgehogs to hide behind.
We are coming for you, Mr. Bear.
Be afraid.
Very afraid.
Achievement Summary
We survived. Which is, frankly, miraculous.
And we answered humanity’s great questions:
Does a bear poop in the woods? Yes. And it resembles Dave.
If a tree falls in a forest, does it make a sound? Yes—especially through your roof. Craig.
Why are we here? We work for the man and didn’t read the fine print.
Can you starve on an island full of food? Absolutely.
Should you fear storms and darkness? Yes. These suits are paper.
Will Dave ever build walls correctly? Let’s not get unrealistic.
And that’s a wrap.
Join us next week, when we forge crossbows and remind the epic bear who da boss.
