The Zone

Thirty hand-authored areas, drawn in ASCII and driven by a menu of what makes sense right here. Seven things that fight back. Twelve artifacts. Four vendors, ten people to talk to, twenty jobs, six endings.

The art is the game. Hidden exits are drawn into the scenery as bold cyan letters. Ten of the thirty areas have no menu entry at all — you reach them by noticing something in the picture.

Combat is turn-based on action points. Guns take a caliber and hold a magazine, so a sawn-off spends a turn in three reloading and a rifle barely notices. Ammunition moves your accuracy, your damage and how much armour you punch through.

The Zone does not wait. Radiation drags your attributes down and kills at a thousand. Every few days an emission burns the sky and you get an hour of warning to find cover.

Death deletes the save. What carries to the next stalker is the lore you found, a quarter of your faction standing, and a memorial entry with your name and how you died.

Skills rise by use. There is no XP table. Arrow keys and Enter drive the menus; letter keys belong to the secrets.