A lonely moonbase with very angry robots
Routine drops you onto a vast and mostly abandoned moonbase where everything seems determined to kill you. The security system treats you as an intruder, the base is falling apart, and skeletal Type 05 security robots stalk the corridors looking for any excuse to turn you into wall décor.
These robots are the heart of the horror. You rarely see them first. You hear them. Heavy metal footsteps echoing through the station. Lasers sweeping across dark hallways. The clank of a door unlocking when you know for sure you did not open it. Type 05s will check corners, open doors, and hunt you intelligently instead of just wandering in circles.
The game keeps things fair by only allowing one robot to be fully active at a time. That sounds like a relief until you realize the deactivated units are left standing around like metallic corpses. You will find yourself creeping past motionless shells, wondering which one is about to shudder to life. That constant doubt feeds the tension in a way that simple jump scares never could.
Routine handles pressure very well. Chases feel chaotic and terrifying, but the game also understands that nonstop pursuit quickly becomes annoying. You are always given enough time to breathe, look around, and solve puzzles. Just when you start to relax, a shape in the dark that looked like a shadow turns out to be something much worse.
Retro future style and tactile survival tools
Visually, Routine is heavily inspired by Alien Isolation and classic sci fi horror. It imagines a future as designed in the 1980s, and the result is a wonderfully chunky retro future. Expect plastic chairs, curly cables, scratched glass, dented metal panels, CRT monitors, and even a VHS rental store tucked away on the station.
The attention to detail is impressive. Nothing feels shiny or new. Everything looks used, repaired, and slightly broken. This lived in style makes the moonbase feel like a real place with a long working history, which in turn makes its collapse into horror feel more believable.
Your main tool for navigating this nightmare is the CAT, short for Cosmonaut Assistance Tool. It is a gun shaped device stuffed with buttons, switches, and modules. Instead of pressing a single key to activate abilities, you actually poke and prod different parts of the CAT with your cursor. That hands on interaction makes it feel like a real piece of equipment you are learning to use, not just a menu of powers.
The CAT can do a bit of everything depending on the modules you find. Some upgrades let you temporarily disable enemies, others let you access security systems, reveal hidden fingerprints, or see in the dark. Most of these abilities draw from a tiny battery, so every use has a cost. Short a fuse box to stun a robot and that is less juice for your next scan or light source.
There is always a risk that this kind of resource system turns into tedious micromanagement, but Routine avoids that. Replacement batteries and recycled single use cells are scattered intelligently around the base. Puzzles that require power always have what you need nearby. You still have to be careful and think about your usage, but you are never forced into boringly strict planning. The game wants tension, not misery.
Routine also shines when it comes to environmental logic. Many problems have solutions that feel grounded in the world instead of being purely gamey. At one point you need an ID number to log in to a public terminal. Instead of hacking some elaborate system, the answer is literally on the badge attached to your own suit, the same ID you picked up at the very start. It is an almost embarrassingly obvious answer, and that is exactly what makes it satisfying. The game encourages you to treat its world like a place that obeys common sense.
Minimal HUD, strong atmosphere, weak story
To keep you immersed, Routine uses a very minimal interface. There is no health bar, no red haze around the edges of the screen. Most of the time you simply do not know how close you are to dying. You find out the hard way when an attack either throws you aside or crushes you outright. It turns your condition into a simple binary state: alive or dead. That approach removes the typical survival horror grind where you limp around searching for medkits and instead keeps you constantly on edge.
Atmosphere and moment to moment gameplay are where Routine really delivers. Creeping through flickering corridors, listening for a robot you know is nearby, juggling your CATs limited battery while trying to read logs or solve a puzzle feels properly nerve shredding. The mix of smart enemy AI, tactile tools, and grounded puzzle design creates an engaging loop for horror fans and sci fi lovers alike.
Where Routine stumbles is its narrative. The first half leans on familiar corporate sci fi themes. Think shady companies, fake friendly advertising, and cute mascots hiding a very ugly reality. That part is fine if predictable. The problems begin when the story tries to escalate. A visually impressive false climax leads to a twist and a sudden shift in tone toward something more supernatural.
That genre mash up could have been exciting, but the game does not fully commit or properly develop the idea. The change in direction feels more jarring than clever, and the final stretch fizzles rather than explodes. The ending comes off as more confusing than haunting, making it feel like you were dragged to a conclusion instead of naturally guided there by the story.
Even with a weak ending, Routine remains a memorable sci fi horror experience thanks to its retro future style, excellent atmosphere, and smart mechanical design. If you enjoy games like Alien Isolation and Dead Space and you are looking for a tense adventure on aging PC hardware or a capable gaming laptop, Routine is well worth a look, especially considering its modest price point.
Original article and image: https://www.pcgamer.com/games/horror/routine-review/
