Testimony
“Alone, in an unstable chunk, with something close by, that's how you lose your head. And nothing even has to happen, you know.”
Sanity drops with time and with circumstances. It is the number that separates you from losing your way. Nobody sees it and everybody notices when it runs out.
What drains it
Every second you spend down there you lose a little, and four things speed it up.
| Source | You lose per second |
|---|---|
| Base: just being there | 0.1 |
| Per creature nearby | +0.3 |
| Unstabilized chunk | +0.2 |
| Being alone | +0.3 |
| Cap | 2.0 |
A wanderer alone in an unstable chunk, with two creatures nearby, loses 1.2 per second. With one more, 1.5. The figure climbs fast toward the cap.
How it’s restored
- Almond Water. Restores 35 and is the only restorer. See the entry.
- Waking up. If you die, you wake in a bed and sanity goes back to 50.
There is no other remedy. You can only lose it more slowly, and a stabilized chunk drains it less.
How to survive
- Go with company. Being alone adds 0.3 per second, the same as a creature nearby.
- Stabilize the chunk where you plan to stay.
- Don't stand staring at anything that moves. Every creature nearby counts.
- Save one Almond Water for the worst moment, not the first.
What people report
- It is said darkness drains even more, up to 0.5 per second. The archive hasn't been able to measure it.
- Below 50 you see things: objects that change place when you look back. Below 20, people talk about a pulse that trembles and aim that fails.
- Some swear your breathing shortens and your hands shake before you lose your head completely. Others say notes get harder to read, the lettering tighter and repeating.
- Some groups talk about shelters as points of calm.
See also
Pulse and Events, Beds and Shelters, Level 2: service tunnels, Floor Notes.
Mentioned in
O-001 · ObjectsAlmond WaterThe only flask that restores sanity. It removes hunger, thirst and wounds, but it only turns up in rooms almost nobody sets foot in.P-004 · PhenomenaChunk DisplacementEvery chunk has its own countdown and, when it runs out, the place is rewritten. Anyone who doesn't anchor their shelter loses everything with it.O-008 · ObjectsConsumablesFood, drink and medicine, the only things that refill the body’s bars. There is little, it is scattered and the labels come torn.E-026 · EntitiesWatcherAn adult sitting in an office chair, back turned, who slowly turns their head to follow you. It does nothing else.O-002 · ObjectsAntibioticsThey restore 55 health and nothing else. They hide in wall first-aid cabinets, in corridors others have already searched.O-014 · ObjectsHand-Crank FlashlightThe only light that never fully runs out, because you can always stop and wind it. But lit, it gives you away at almost forty meters.P-013 · PhenomenaStabilizationMetal, circuits and batteries on a workbench so a piece of the labyrinth stops moving. Only the anchor pins it down completely.P-017 · PhenomenaThe Wanderer’s GlossaryThe words wanderers repeat until they stop explaining them, with the entry where each one is told.L-003 · LevelsLevel 2: service tunnelsNarrow corridors of wet concrete, pipes and machine rooms under a flickering light. The dripping never stops.P-002 · PhenomenaA Day Down ThereExplore, loot, stabilize and return: the routine of anyone surviving in a labyrinth that moves. Tear off a piece of it and make it yours.O-006 · ObjectsBeds and SheltersA nook with a bed, tape and a can. Sleeping in it sets where you wake when you die, and building it is the closest thing to a home.P-007 · PhenomenaThe PulseThe place seems to keep its own rhythm of calm, stalking, peak and lull. Wanderers call it the Pulse.