Total Chaos is finally getting a full release, and it feels a bit surreal. It is the kind of fan-mod project people used to talk about often: technically impressive, very ambitious and something players hoped would become a full game. Seeing it sold as a standalone title in 2025 is something few expected. Even with the updates and improvements, you can still sense the mod at its core, and there is nothing wrong with that.
You can tell right away that the developers didn’t try to “modernize” it the way some remasters, or reimaginings do. The whole thing still looks damp and rusty, in that early-2000s, dull-coloured environment kind of way. I don’t know how to explain it other than everything feels swollen, like the walls themselves are waterlogged. Sometimes the lighting hits a corner or a doorway in a way that made me genuinely uncomfortable, but not because of what might be hiding in it, just because the place feels unclean.
Fort Oasis, the island you’re stuck on, again feels completely new, but will feel familiar to people who played the mod ages ago. It has a decent flow, or at least a flow that feels like someone actually walked from point A to B and said, “Alright, a person could plausibly find this.” That said, it still leans into being disorienting. You’ll hit spots where everything blends together, and you’re not sure if that’s the design or just the natural consequence of every building looking like it’s had the same leak for ten straight years. But I never felt totally lost either, more like walking in circles on purpose just to see if something new would happen.
“Total Chaos doesn’t overexplain anything, which I appreciated.”
The story is… there, but only if you want it. It’s told in fragments, and the game never pushes anything in your face. You pick up the gist through scraps of writing, some environmental leftovers, and the radio voice that drifts in and out. It has a tired tone, like the person on the other end has been living on the island far too long. Total Chaos doesn’t overexplain anything, which I appreciated. It trusts the atmosphere more than plot, and that’s rare. Sometimes it works in its favour, sometimes it makes moments feel a bit too vague, but it never breaks the experience.
Combat is clumsy, but it almost feels deliberately so. Pipes, wrenches, and boards that look like they came off a shed that collapsed last winter. Swinging them feels awkward in a way that’s honestly charming. You kind of lean into the chaos of it. There has been a ton of improvement since the old mod; everything has weight and heft to it, especially the guns that always felt like a last-ditch item, partially due to the power, but also the lack of supplies, especially in the latter third of the game.
The sound design, though, is where the game actually flexes. There’s always something creaking or rattling just outside your field of view. A lot of it sounds like settling metal or shifting pipes, which is probably my least favourite kind of noise in real life, so I was tense pretty much constantly. When enemies show up, they make these awful sounds, but it’s not the usual horror shrieking. It’s more like someone breathing through soaked fabric. Wearing headphones is basically mandatory if you want to get the most out of it. You never feel like you are alone walking through Fort Oaisis; there is always that sinking feeling like someone or something is watching you.
Performance-wise, I didn’t really run into a ton of issues, some frame drops here and there, but nothing to take me out of the moment. My second biggest issue with the game is the text legibility. Everything is written so small, with no option to change the size of the HUD or on-screen text, it meant to sit and play on my couch only ten-ish feet away, and I was always squinting when some text was on screen.
The game’s biggest issue is navigation. Sometimes it feels like you just don’t know where you’re supposed to go. Not in the fun, go explore, and you’ll find something way. Just vague. There were moments where I wandered for longer than I want to admit, trying doors I’d already tried, looking for switches I’d missed, because oh boy does Total Chaos love switches. I’m torn because this feels obviously intentional, but it just doesn’t feel like the best choice, given that the grimy stuff kind of has the same vibe as the areas.
What surprised me was how well the pacing held up overall. Total Chaos takes its time. It doesn’t sprint from scare to scare. It simmers. There are long stretches of wandering, listening, watching the environment breathe around you. I liked that, it really let you sit in your uncomfortability. There’s a section in a refinery that overstays its welcome, but outside of that, I never felt like the game dragged.
“Total Chaos takes its time. It doesn’t sprint from scare to scare. It simmers.”
The thing about Total Chaos, and maybe this is what makes it stand out, is that it feels personal. Not in a sentimental way, but in that “someone really cared about every weird detail” way. There’s no attempt to buff the roughness out. It’s comfortable sitting in its own grime. Even the new content feels like it was added by the same person who built the mod years ago, not by a committee trying to turn it into a crowd-pleaser.
When I finished the game, I was left with the same feeling I had while playing: a mix of exhaustion and weird admiration. It’s not perfect, but it being perfect would ruin it. Total Chaos is the kind of horror game that sticks with you because it feels like it came from a specific place and a specific mindset and a very specific time. It’s not trying to follow a trend or a studio chasing analytics. It’s rough, loud when it wants to be, strangely quiet when it doesn’t, and absolutely drenched in an atmosphere that you can almost feel on your skin.
It’s one of the more memorable horror releases this year, and not because it’s polished, but because it commits to its own identity so completely that you just go along with it.
