
Co-op mining roguelite for 1-4 players. Your drillship descends twenty depths into a dying moon. Every depth sets a task, every task wakes something, and the way back gets more expensive the closer you get. 47 crews tried. No crew came back.
NARON is a co-op mining roguelite for 1-4 players. Your drillship eats its way through twenty depths beneath the surface of NARON-M, a dying moon. Every depth sets you a task. Complete it, and the drill moves on.
If the crew falls, the run is over. What you learned comes with you into the next one.
Ramp down. Outside lies a cave that didn't exist a few seconds ago.
Clear the objective. One main objective per depth - your ticket further down. The drill doesn't move until it's done.
Take what matters. Ore, crystals, organics. Side contracts for NARON Points. And somewhere out there, an abandoned camp holding gear a previous crew no longer needs.
Get back, seal the hatch, choose a route. At the map table the crew decides together where to dig next.
The catch: every bit of progress on your main objective wakes the moon. Pressure fronts tear open, broods swarm out, the cave tightens around you. The closer you get to the goal, the more the way back costs you.
The map table in the cockpit shows a branching route tree. You can see two depths ahead, and every node tells you what's waiting: biome, task, haul - and what's working against you.
Thin air that burns through your stamina. Acid that drains gas mask cartridges three times as fast. Overcrowded breeding grounds. More than twenty hazard modifiers are scattered across the tree.
The safe route pays less. The hard one pays more. You vote - and you live with it.
The rock is fully deformable. No mining nodes, no scripted lanes - you cut through solid stone in first person, follow veins into the deep and blast shortcuts nobody ever planned for.
Fourteen resources wait across six procedurally generated biomes: rock caverns, mushroom caves, flooded chambers, lava halls, ice fields and crystal caves. Each has its own deposits, its own growth, its own species - and its own way of killing you.
You're not here to strip it bare. You're here to bring back the right thing.
Sometimes it's a recovery. Sometimes demolition. Sometimes a setup against the clock, where one of you has to keep working while the others hold the tunnel. And sometimes what's down there fights back.
Ten main objectives, eighteen side contracts and two boss encounters rotate through your runs without repeating back to back. Side contracts are never mandatory. They're just the question of whether you'll risk one more detour for a few NARON Points.
Pressure fronts build at the far end of the cave chain and close the map behind you. Nothing about them hunts you. They'll still kill you.
Then there's gas that eats your filter cartridges. Lava that keeps the rock glowing. Flooded chambers with a hard limit on oxygen. And a biosphere that doesn't hate you - it defends its brood. In a tunnel three meters wide, that makes no difference.
Some of it makes it all the way to the ship.
Workshop, storage, map room, and the only place on NARON-M where the air won't kill you. It descends with you, depth by depth, for the whole run.
Between depths you build whatever the next descent demands: medkits, bandages, revival kits, seismic charges, storage crates, fuel and filter cartridges.
What you don't start with is the heavy gear. Jetpack, gas mask and shield emitter are lying as scrap in the camps of the lost teams. There's one on every depth - but not on any map, and no marker will take you there. Without a gas mask, a toxic cloud is a death trap. Without a jetpack, a shaft is a dead end.
Voice chat is positional and carries about as far as your lamp. Go further and you're on the radio. Die, and you still hear everything - you just have to watch the rest of them do it better.
You ping deposits, spray markers on the rock and drag the downed out of trouble. And when it gets late: the run saves. Tomorrow you pick up at the same depth.
Every completed contract and every depth milestone pays NARON Points. They outlive your death.
Spend them permanently across twenty-eight upgrades: more health, more stamina, stronger mining, a wider cut, longer jetpack charge, thicker skin against everything down here. Or put them into hats and emotes, because a crew dancing in a lava chamber is also making a statement.
The next run starts deeper in knowledge, not deeper in the rock. That's exactly why you go back in.
Online co-op for 1-4 players, fully playable solo
Twenty depths of fully deformable cave terrain, generated fresh every run
Branching route tree with crew voting and more than twenty hazard modifiers
Ten main objectives, eighteen side contracts and two boss fights
Six biomes: caverns, mushroom caves, water, lava, ice and crystal
Survival pressure from oxygen, toxic gas, stamina and expanding pressure fronts
Fourteen resources, onboard crafting and gear salvaged from lost crews' camps
Proximity voice chat, radio channel, pings, sprays and emotes
Permanent progression tree with twenty-eight upgrades
Session saves: pause a run and continue later
Forty-seven crews went down before you. Their routes end in the dark. Their gear is still down there.
The core keeps collapsing.
Go down. Bring back what matters. Go deeper.