[h1]Memento Mori[/h1]
I hope you like- or at least tolerate- dying, because you will be doing a lot of it during this game. You'll notice the title is "The Last Stand" and not "A Victory Where Everyone Lives". You will die [i]quite often[/i], and the game expects you to do so.
How you will die will vary from run to run.
Let's start off with the fact that whichever survivor you pick is already doomed, infected with the very same virus that has caused The End Of The World As We Know It, and you most definitely do NOT feel fine. Precious antiviral injections can keep the infection's progress at bay for a while, but not indefinitely, and whenever you're not under the protection of an antiviral, the virus is slowly eating away at your health bar's maximum, represented by a purple bar's slow, unsettling intrusion onto your red health.
This is without dealing with the infected, who, as the name suggests, are indeed infectious, with some able to advance your viral progression by whole blocks if you fail to escape a grapple or get caught in an explosive cloud of viral miasma. The purple corruption of your health bar represents health and humanity permanently lost- there is no way to restore it, and the previously mentioned scarce antivirals can only delay the inevitable.
As your infection progresses to consume blocks of your health bar, however, you will develop mutations, being allowed to pick from three "perks" that represent your slow, inevitable descent from rational human being to just another ravenous horror. This is an exercise in making the best of a very bad situation, hoping that the boon you get from a mutation will offset the lost maximum health and rapid onset of your infection. Once all seven bars of health are infected (purple), you die, no ifs, ands, or buts.
If you manage to live that long, that is.
The hazards grow in number as you try to progress, hoping to make some headway for the numerous other volunteers that will come behind you. There are plenty of mundane infected of course, some shambling and others running as they swarm after you, but there are plenty of other fun varieties of special infected, from kamikaze viral bombers to the obligatory acid-spitters. Then there is the environment to content with. Whether its a leftover shotgun trap or proximity mine, a crumbling overhead dropping on your head, or a fire waiting for you to stumble into it, there are plenty of dumb ways to bring a successful run to a screeching halt.
And then there's you. Your own worst enemy.
Nothing gives a lesson in the game's unforgiving nature like accidentally selecting a grenade launcher when you meant to select a rifle, and firing point blank into an on-rushing foe, reducing them- and yourself- to a fine red mist to commemorate your first lesson in how friendly fire isn't.
Take a deep breath, pick another doomed volunteer, put the knowledge and supply points you got to good use, and try to do a little better this time- or at least, not make the very same mistake.
Enough about dying for now.
Your goal as a volunteer is to make something of your short time remaining by scouting ahead for the colony, carving a path forward, finding knowledge about the old world and scrounging supply drops for either future use or to try and push your current run a bit further. Marking a supply crate for retrieval means liquid supply points to purchase new goods, loadouts, drop chances and more for future survivors, but maybe your current doomed volunteer could use that rifle right now.
In a more immediate sense, you are advised to root through the ruins of humanity for whatever scraps might help you live a few minutes longer and make your eventual death meaningful- ammo, food, weapons, and various books and media that count as 'knowledge' which unlock permanent perks that continue between your volunteers, giving those who come after you more of a fighting chance than you started out with.
There are weapons, of course- though what qualifies as a weapon has changed considerably since everything went straight to hell. Boards, wrenches, pipes, hammers, crowbars, kitchen knives, and cleavers can be found reliably enough, but more advanced melee weapons like combat knives and katanas can be scrounged. With the right perks, you can learn to make your own weapons out of found items as well- a good thing, since every melee weapon can only cut through so many zombies before it finally breaks.
Guns- improvised or not- are not subject to such breakage. They can be found in 'damaged' condition, hampering their output, but a trip to the workbench with some scrap will resolve that issue permanently. Your primary concern with guns is thus not durability, but ammunition- and whether or not it will be enough to take down the infected before they get to you. Sure, a 9mm revolver will do at the start, but when facing down armored infected, you'll want something more potent.
On that matter, learning when to switch between ranged and melee is essential. Some infected are armored, meaning you'll either have to expend extra ammo to break their shielding or get in close with a melee weapon to remove the armor. Alternatively, you can (almost) always set them on fire with a molotov or flamethrower, but both options have their drawbacks- molotovs are single use and can set you ablaze if used carelessly, and a flamethrower bulk- and its bulkier ammunition- will take up a fair amount of your carrying capacity.
Weight is an issue, of course- the game's one kindness is that many materials for crafting weigh 0, and that's as generous as it gets. Everything else weighs your character down. You can exceed your max capacity, but be prepared to pay for it- every action that consumes stamina will consume even more, from swinging melee weapons to dodging, and you'll move slower and slower- which, as you might guess in a game where unending hordes of flesh-eating zombies are chasing you, is a [b]VERY BAD THING[/b].
Then there the issue of your car, fuel, and planning where to go. Your car can only hold five units of fuel, and it will be a rare occasion you manage to hit that maximum. Each stop on your journey means scrounging what you can, finding fuel (if present) and moving on to the next stop in your terminal road trip, all the while keeping an eye on your ever progressing infection. Every action has a cost- fuel, ammo, time, and other resources. Your job is to make it count as much as possible before misfortune or infection finally claims your volunteer and ends another run.
The Last Stand: Aftermath is an unapologetic roguelite. You. Will. Die. Repeatedly. And you'll learn to do a little better each time. Despite- or maybe because of- the game's unforgiving nature, it manages to scratch an itch for me I didn't know I had- crafting supplies to stay alive a little longer, facing impossible odds, trying to make someone of a limited time.
Just watch where you aim your explosives.
