Video games with unusually named titles really need a pronunciation guide. Is it pronounced ice-on or ice-xion? I doubt that was a concern for the tiny beings whose deaths I was responsible for bringing about. Like the great Frostpunk, Ixion is a survival management game, but this time I’m playing it on PC, which means I get to take advantage of quality control setups and a frame rate of 60 frames per second. At least in space, you won’t have to worry about hearing the cries of young workers, so it’s not as brutal as the post-apocalyptic wasteland I found myself dominating like a Dickens villain.

You would, at least, if you weren’t playing with an unproven new sci-fi gadget in a survival game where you’ll need to eke out your meagre supplies like the piece of cloth that Cornelis van Haarlem threads up a man’s crack in his painting The Fall of Ixion (1588). Your massive hotel for humanity’s unfortunate survivors, modelled after the Dyson Sphere, is constructed solely so that your engine can look great and your mobile space station conforms to typical notions of cool. The Borg Cube, despite its hideous appearance, is the most efficient ship because, as we all know, aerodynamics are irrelevant in space.

With so many survival games focusing on resource management, it should come as no surprise that efficiency is a buzzword in this genre as well. That’s why I use the term “Frostpunk” to describe it. Initially working with a limited footprint and eventually the complete space station via extension, planners must allocate areas for living quarters, medical facilities, dining halls, kitchens, and more. Because the Tiqqun keeps its many components independently, careful micromanagement of its resources is essential.

In some cases, these materials are required from scratch. That necessitates more space, both literally and figuratively, and more materials to construct. Herein lies the difficulty: keeping those resources intact after having effectively leapt to a new star system or so far into the future that you need to use many of them just to stay afloat. Iron is required for any hull repairs or construction. Iron satellites must be launched into space in order to mine iron deposits, and iron ships are the sole means of accessing those mines. The issue is that these deposits aren’t plentiful.

At various points, I considered abandoning the project altogether in the face of a seemingly insurmountable obstacle. In actuality, I’d oftentimes need a brief intermission before returning to the issue with fresh eyes. When compared to its cold, genre-defining counterpart, it’s hard to know right now if your hubris will be your downfall in Ixion, but its challenge is undeniable none the less. In a space opera where attention to detail is paramount, Ixion is a game of juggling plates. Even if there’s a lot of commotion and drama going on, I usually feel like I’ve got everything under control.

One aspect of Ixion that didn’t quite work for me was all the descriptive data provided for when your spacecraft would investigate the remains of previous starships. As an example, in the “They Call It A Mine” mission, near the conclusion, it says, “but it [is] accompanied by a helical-shaped symbol;” but, no matter how hard I try, I just cannot see the tittle (the dot in an I) on the I in helix without coming quite close to the screen. Not all the font or typeface work is useful to me, but there are things like bolding crucial aspects to call attention that aid people like myself who have dyslexia.

The story of how space is perilous and will deal you some terrible consequences if you screw around is compelling, but that’s only one piece of this masterfully created jigsaw in Ixion. The other factors are your space exploration map, your city/resource management inside major Tom’s capsule of dreadful efficiency, and the Tiqqun’s outer shell, which is a resource-hungry shell of agony. Even with enough personnel to ensure the security of all Tiqqun areas, striking a good balance between people with varying levels of competence is challenging.

One of Ixion’s selling points is the option to relocate your space station. It’s not as simple as picking a direction and running in it. In order to continue exploring, you will quickly learn that batteries may be made to store a limited amount of electricity during stationary phases.

This makes relocating your colony of hundreds even more challenging, since you’ll need to keep producing despite having only a limited amount of backup power. There is no limit to the number of batteries that can be created, but each one must have its own source of energy. This turns even “easy” exploring into a game of skillfully amassing supplies.

Ultimately, I believe that Bulwark Studios’ sci-fi opera perfectly mixes city development with survival management, as well as stunning visually with the picturesque scale displayed as you stand up next to where I’ve murdered countless Kerbals. Unless your arrogance sends you on a never-ending cycle of futility, it’s neither deliberately difficult nor manifestly easy. Ixion is an exciting new take on the survival management genre that also manages to be a lot of fun to play.

Score – 8/10