About This Game

The seas rose and never went back down. What's left of us holds on in hab-shells: homes welded out of wrecks and drowned rigs, anchored in the dark, overgrown by a sea that moves into anything warm that stays still. Every shell sits over a seam of black brine, and every shell is one bad season from going dark.

In Fathom Reach you keep yours lit by taking what other shells have.

One dive, one shell, one Heart

A raid is a single descent into somebody's home, from the outer hull down to the Pressure-Heart that seals the brinebed underneath it. You bring a deck and a hull, and nothing else follows you down.

Each chamber is a fight against what the sea grew into the walls: gun-coral that learned to spit, barnacle turrets that clamp on and fire, and whatever defenders the shell can still muster. Every one of them shows you what it will do on its next turn. Read the field, spend your Energy in the right order, and a chamber that should have cost you half a hull costs you nothing.

Integrity is what your hull has left, and it carries the whole way down without resetting between fights. So every extraction point asks the same thing: surface now and keep what you're carrying, or spend salvage on a patch and take one more leg, where the shells get stranger and the haul gets bigger.

Four answers to the drowning

Four communities survived down here, each by taking one idea as far as it goes, and each one fights the way it thinks. You dive all four, and you belong to one.

The Hold stopped diving and started keeping. It walls up behind Armor and Bulwark and outlasts anything you brought.

The Bellows owns the last plant that still makes air and rules by the leash. It fights at range, and it suppresses your line before you can form one.

The Stilled live inside a dead leviathan and call it holy. Corrosion eats your hull from the outside in while fresh bodies soak the hits.

The Severed aren't a crew anymore, only the signal the crew left running. Cheap drones, and every one makes the next one deadlier.

Whichever one you belong to, every card in the game can be found, crafted, and played: 220 of them across the four disciplines and the Flotsam gear every diver draws on.

Build the shell they come for

Your home is a base you lay out chamber by chamber. Place defenders and graft augments onto them, mark a chamber elite, hang a hazard where a raider has to walk through it, and install the Pressure-Heart you want at the center. Salvage from your dives pays for all of it.

Your shell goes into the water too. Raid the shells real players built, climb a seasonal ranked ladder against divers in your range, and read the defense report waiting for you when you surface.

Three ways down

Open Descent is the long haul. Pick a shell off the sonar, set the Pressure you want to fight at, and keep everything you bring home.

Daily Signal hands every diver the same shell, the same deck, and the same seed. One run, one board.

Endless Descent drops the floor. Every extraction point you walk past takes you deeper and hangs another Burden on the rig, and the only question left is how far you get before the deep takes it back.

What's down there

220 cards, 24 bosses at six per faction, 30 structures to break, and 26 drones to launch at them. Every shell you dive is generated fresh, and the faction that built it decides how it fights back.

Every fathom takes something back. A win still costs you hull, and a loss still sends you up with something.

Fathom Reach is in Early Access. Everything above is in the build you buy today.