The frigid ocean of the video game Subnautica: Below Zero teems with incredible life — from
gigantic herbivores to vicious carnivores.
Like the tropical seas of the game’s predecessor, this environment feels truly unique: an undersea
world of bewildering landscapes, detailed ecosystems, and surprising mysteries.
Many of the aliens in Below Zero were created by Alex Ries, one of the most talented creature
designers out there.
And unlike the first game, in Below Zero, dangers lurk both above and below the water…
So, for this entry into the archive, we’ll embark on one of our documentary-style expeditions,
charting biomes under the waves and upon ice; encountering both friendly — and deadly
— forms of arctic life.
This two-part series will analyze the biology behind these puzzling aliens, and investigate
how they compare to life in Earth’s oceans.
And although this experience once again ranks among the scariest I’ve had while doing
fieldwork for the Archive, I’m determined to document this alien world firsthand.
So, let’s dive in together, and explore the freezing depths of Sector Zero.
Sector Zero is a region of extremely low temperatures, where organisms of all types have had to adapt
to the cold.
Beginning on the ice floats above the shallows, a curious lifeform makes its home in this
region where land meets the sea.
Huddled together on a float is a flock of waddling Pengwings.
Pengwings are small, predatory fauna which… aren’t the most graceful on land.
When a Pengwing dives underwater, however, the creature’s unique retractable tail allows
them to twist through the currents with remarkable grace.
Despite their appearance, Pengwings are carnivores, and their beak opens horizontally, revealing
a rather alarming set of teeth.
In their body shape and behavior, Pengwings show a high degree of convergence with Earth
penguins — with both species adapting to an arctic environment in similar ways.
And on any ice-float with Pengwings, you will also find Penglings — the juvenile form
of Pengwings who never stray far from their parents.
Even more than adults, infant Penglings are extremely awkward on land.
But what they might lack in overall balance, they make up for in endless enthusiasm.
And while Penglings might possess the same, somewhat alarming fanged mouth, they’re
remarkably docile creatures, perfectly content with being gently lifted up.
As nice as it is to briefly hold a baby Pengling, however, I don’t want to disrupt their natural
routines…
As we dive into the polar waters, a shallow, surprisingly warm region awaits just under
the ice floats.
The landscape of this coastal sea is dominated by Coral Bridges, great arches formed from
rapidly growing coral polyps that can exceed 600 feet, or 200 meters in length.
Bioluminescent blue barnacles grow on the Coral’s underside, which a scan suggests
are actually a separate species taking advantage of the bridges’ structure.
But why would the coral bridges grow into such strange, arching shapes?
The answer lies in a phenomenon known as Thigmotropism — a pattern of growth observed in Earth
plants in response to touch.
Thigmotropism is what allows vines to wrap around and ‘climb’ up poles, and it’s
the likely reason the great Coral bridges always grow from one rock to another…
Just beyond these coral bridges, we encounter an Arctic Peeper, who watches for predators
with its massive yellow eyes.
Relatives of the Common Peeper in the tropical seas, Arctic Peepers’ scales have evolved
a whitish hue for better camouflage against the ice.
Other familiar herbivores also swim here, like the translucent Bladderfish and the vibrant
hoopfish.
Together, these species form an important base in the Sector Zero food chain for the
larger, less familiar creatures that lurk under the ice.
Swimming northwards, I’ve reached a region known as the Sparse Arctic.
This entire biome is situated under thick ice shelves, and receives little direct sunlight.
On the underside of these icebergs, hazardous ice formations known as Brinicles protrude
like jagged fangs.
Highly unstable, Brinicles frequently shatter and crash to the sea floor.
Yet as foreboding as the Sparse Arctic seems, some truly remarkable species thrive here…
This odd-looking fellow is called a Brinewing.
With its rotund form and beak-like mouth, it gives the impression of an ineffectual
herbivore.
But the Brinewing is a powerful predator.
To hunt, it unleashes a rapid-fire torrent of a supercooled saline solution that freezes
in the water, and can encase its prey in ice.
A scan suggests the Brinewing uses a highly-specialized bladder to produce this supercooled brine
from the surrounding salt water.
As unusal an adaptation as this might seem, the Earth Archerfish can shoot down insects
using water jets launched from their specialized mouths… and are remarkably accurate.
Other species in the Sparse Arctic have very different survival strategies.
Like the enormous Titan Holefish — a slow moving herbivore with a strange hole in the
center of its body.
The Titan Holefish is a relative of the tiny, guppy-sized tropical holefish — and is so
much larger than its cousin you can actually swim through the hole at its center.
But what is the purpose of this hole?
A scan suggests the gel-like interior is lined with hundreds of eggs, but curiously, their
DNA doesn’t match that of the Holefish…
The mystery of the eggs is revealed when I spot a tiny lifeform swimming alongside the
Holefish.
Soon, many others join in, swarming like a bee colony around a hive.
These are Symbiotes — small predators that have evolved to make their nests inside the
hole of the Titan Holefish, and in turn defend them at all costs — and even provide them
with food.
This highly cooperative lifestyle is an example of a mutualistic partnership — one of the
few on Planet 4546 B. As a result, the Titan Holefish has evolved to be remarkably unintelligent:
swimming forward on impulse, fully trusting the complex ecosystem that supports its every
need.
Just beyond the Sparse Arctic, the bare sand gives way to the teeming Arctic Kelp Forest.
Here, Creepvine Plants sway in the polar current, casting light into the depths with their bioluminescent
seeds.
These Creepvine plants are close relatives of the green variety which grow in the warm
waters of the tropics, although the chemical composition of the polar waters has turned
them a pale yellow.
Among the fronds, familiar fish like the boomerang flit between the leaves.
…And some very unfamiliar fish swim here also.
These extremely bizarre lifeforms are called Spinner Fish, and have perhaps the most peculiar
method of swimming ever conceived.
Using three pairs of siphons on the side of their body, Spinner Fish jet along like living
waterwheels.
At a glance, its bizarre body the plan somewhat resembles the larval form of the ocean sunfish.
But ultimately, the Spinner Fish is one of a kind.
Speaking of one of a kind, I soon spot an incredible lifeform.
I’m just about to scan it when it swims in and snatches the scanner from my hands.
Frustrated, I give chase, and find the creature looks back and waves the stolen scanner to
mock me.
Thankfully I’m able to cut it off and snatch my tool back.
Finishing the scan, I discover this creature might be annoying, but it’s truly remarkable,
with both a developed brain and finger like appendages for object manipulation.
It’s called a Sea Monkey — a nickname it shares with Earth brine shrimp.
Unlike those Sea Monkeys, however, the Sea Monkey of Planet 4546 B seems about as intelligent
as an actual primate — meaning it’s the smartest lifeform I’ve found in sector zero.
But given time, the Sea Monkeys might have an incredible future trajectory.
I just hope they evolve to be less annoying…
With the Kelp Forest thoroughly charted, it’s time to regroup on the surface.
Sticking my head above the water, however, I find the shallows are engulfed in a dangerous
polar storm.
Looking around, I realize that the Pengwing flock from earlier might be in serious danger.
Upon arriving at their ice float, however, I find the Pengwings unbothered by the weather,
simply huddling for warmth and waiting out the rain.
Truly, Pengwings are intriguing creatures.
With the sun thankfully returning, it occurs to me that there’s much I still have to
learn about Pengwing flock dynamics, but I don’t want to disrupt them with my presence.
Time for some innovation.
I’ve devised an alternative, less conspicuous method of observation.
This machine is my Spy Pengling, and it will hopefully be able to keep an eye on the Pengwing
flock with its hidden cameras while I continue my expedition across Sector Zero.
I’m uncertain if the Pengwings will be fooled into accepting this robot as one of their
own… but the only way to find out is to test it.
As inconspicuously as I can, I deploy the robot.
Taking control via an axillary remote, I navigate the Spy Pengling into the midst of the flock.
It’s… not a perfect disguise.
But the Pengwings don’t seem particularly bothered by its presence.
Though it’s unlikely this robot is fooling them, it doesn’t appear to disrupt their
natural behavior.
I’ll leave the flock under its watchful eye, and head deeper into the unknown regions...
Even further out to sea, the mysterious Lilypad Islands hang in the water, seemingly by miraculous
means.
In truth, these floating chunks of rock are held up by Giant Lilypads: an enormous type
of plant that define this ecosystem.
Giant Lilypads are indeed so large that it’s possible to stand on their leafy tops without
fear of sinking.
But it’s the bizarre life that swims in the lilypads’ shadows that make this region
truly unique…
Take, for example, the hilariously named Noot Fish.
With its colorful markings and innocent, beak-like snout, the Noot fish can easily pass as a
herbivore.
But any fish that makes that mistake is soon swallowed whole.
The Noot Fish’s beak is in fact a stretchy, extendable lip, lined with barb-like teeth
it uses to envelop prey.
This kind of extendible mouth somewhat resembles that of the Sarcastic Fringehead of the Pacific
Ocean.
Best to keep an eye out.
But there are bigger predators here than the Noot Fish.
The Brute Shark is an aggressive predator that scours the depths with its ghostly white
eyes.
With huge fangs and a massive, bony jaw, they feed on just about anything they catch.
Like many Earth sharks, they prefer to attack via ambush from above or below.
The only good news is that while they’re deadly, Brute Sharks aren’t particularly
fast.
Still, if I don’t keep my distance, I might be on the menu...
Closer to the surface, I spot a remarkably colorful lifeform.
Swimming nearer, the edges of my vision blur, and I feel just a little dizzzzy.
Huh.
Has the sky always been that color?
Everything feels…
floaty for a while.
Eventually, the effect wears off, and with a clear head, I understand what just happened.
That lifeform, known as the Lily Paddler, possesses the unique ability to disorient
would-be attackers with the mesmerizing patterns on its colorful appendages.
It's an impressive defense, and a vital one for a creature like a Lily Paddler which is
otherwise quite vulnerable.
I just wish it didn’t make my head hurt.
A shadow passes overhead.
Just above me, a whale-sized leviathan opens its mouth to a tremendous size and swallows
an entire school of fish in a single gulp.
This is a Glow Whale, and while they’re highly effective at feeding on small fish,
they’re thankfully quite gentle.
At almost 100 feet, or 30 meters in length, they’re the first Leviathan class organism
I’ve encountered in Sector Zero — and a highly intelligent one.
A scan of the Glow Whales indicate they possess many organs that are capable of bioluminescence,
most notably around the corners of their eyes and the ends of their horns.
Careful not to startle it, I brush a Glow Whale under its eye, causing a faint glow.
It’s difficult to interpret whether this is a random response, or an attempt to send
a message.
In any case, the Glow Whale is content with my presence.
As I watch it rejoin its pod, I wish I could stay with this specular lifeform longer.
But before the sun sets, there’s one last region I need to chart…
Underneath layers of snow and ice, there are telltale signs that a permanent land mass
makes up a portion of Sector Zero.
Dry land is so scarce on this ocean planet that it’s impossible to guess what sorts
of lifeforms might live further inland.
We’ll have to see for ourselves.
Passing through a narrow canyon, I find strange plant-animal hybrids that seem to be growing
from the walls.
These are Thermal Lilies, organisms that spend most of the time tracking the Sun and absorbing
its energy, but also turn to track my movement as I pass.
A scan suggests they aren’t dangerous, and thanks to the thermal radiation they’ve
absorbed, they’re actually a welcome source of heat in Sector Zero’s frigid interior.
Still, it’s unsettling the way they follow me…
Beyond the canyon, a snowy landscape far too vast to traverse on foot awaits.
Luckily, I have an alternate method of transportation.
This is a Snowfox, a hoverbike designed for land-based expeditions.
Zooming over the arctic terrain, I find it’s got a bit of a kick.
At these speeds, I should be able to chart this region fairly effectively.
A short time later, I spot a hairy creature in the distance.
The question is, is it friendly?
…Not friendly.
Putting the Snowfox in reverse, I discover the creature gives chase with alarming speed.
After several near misses, I back away to a safe distance.
That quadrupedal predator was a Snow Stalker, and while it nearly sank its claws into me,
I can’t help but be excited at the discovery of a terrestrial land animal on Planet 4546B!
With its white fur and imposing bulk, the Snow Stalker has converged on a body plan
similar to Earth polar bears.
I’m curious about the lineage of such a lifeform.
A brief analysis reveals the Snow Stalker is actually a distant relative of the fully
aquatic Stalker I encountered in the tropical region.
While these two species diverged a long time ago, there are still some telltale signs of
their relation in the shape of their head and their dorsal spines.
A fascinating genetic ancestry.
Speaking of which, a short way off from the Snow Stalker, I spot what appears to be its
cub playing in the snow.
Just a fraction of the size of its parent, this baby Snow Stalker is far less aggressive
than its parent.
Well, mostly…
Trekking onward, I reach an icesheet marked by jagged, towering ice formations.
This region is known as the Arctic Spires, and it’s home to a giant…
A huge head bursts from below the ice.
Seconds later, a massive, serpentine leviathan rises into the air, and nearly takes me out
with a swipe from its massive horn.
This terror of the frozen plains is an Ice Worm.
At over three hundred feet, or 90 meters, it’s almost twice as long as a Reaper Leviathan,
and by far the largest creature I’ve seen in Sector Zero.
Its glowing horn is superheated through an exothermic chemical reaction — allowing
it to melt the very ice its prey is standing on.
Time to make a fast exit.
Speeding away on my Snowfox, I spot the Snowstalker and its cub from earlier fleeing beside me.
We barely make it to safety.
With creatures like the Ice Worm around, I think I might put off doing more field work
till tomorrow.
While the sun sets overhead, I check in to find my Spy Pengling has become a veritable
member of the flock, and has done an excellent job keeping an eye on its feathered companions.
Together, my pengling bot and I sit and watch the Sector Zero sunset.
And with the night comes a final surprise.
The sky is lit up by a dazzling Aurora similar to the Aurora Borealis in the northern latitudes
of earth.
On our planet, these ‘northern lights’ are a result of disturbances in the magnetosphere
caused by solar wind — and we can theorize they have the same origin on planet 4546B.
It’s a beautiful, imposing display that can make one feel a little isolated in the
universe.
But with my Spy Pengling beside me, I don’t feel truly alone.
A transmission interrupts my thoughts.
It seems I’m picking up a mysterious communication…
but from where?
And who, or what, is sending it out?
I’ll venture deeper into the depths in Part Two of the Biology of Subnautica: Below Zero,
investigating the source of the transmission, and the larger, more extreme, and often more
dangerous life of the deeper biomes.
For now, though, our journey is at its end.
As always, thanks for watching.
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See you in the next video.