I've been playing video games since the early '80s. I've watched entire genres flicker into existence, burn bright, and fade into nostalgia. I've seen survival games evolve from text based permadeath nightmares into the sprawling open world experiences we have today. So when Funcom announced they were building a survival MMO set in Frank Herbert's universe, I approached it with the cautious optimism of someone who has been burned before by ambitious promises masking just another cash grab trying to capitalize on some recently released amazing movies.
Forty hours later, I'm still wandering the dunes. That probably tells you more than any score ever could.
I read the entire Dune series when I was younger and fell completely in love with the universe Herbert built. The politics, the ecology, the way everything interconnects like some massive biological machine. When Villeneuve's films arrived and actually did the source material justice, it felt like vindication for decades of trying to explain to people why this world mattered. So yes, I came into Dune: Awakening with baggage. The good kind, but baggage nonetheless.
The game operates in an alternate timeline where Paul Atreides was never born. Lady Jessica obeyed the Bene Gesserit and had a daughter instead, which means Duke Leto survived and the war between House Atreides and House Harkonnen has become a grinding stalemate. The Fremen have vanished. It's a fascinating premise that lets Funcom play in Herbert's sandbox without stepping on canonical toes, and honestly, it works better than I expected. You're not competing with Paul's legend. You're writing your own story in a universe that feels familiar but isn't bound to predetermined outcomes.
I went House Atreides because of course I did. I'm not a monster.
The survival mechanics will feel familiar to anyone who has spent time in Conan Exiles or similar games, which makes sense given Funcom's pedigree. You manage hydration, you maintain your stillsuit, you gather resources and craft increasingly sophisticated equipment. What elevates the experience beyond standard survival fare is the sheer attention to detail in how Arrakis itself functions as an antagonist. Daytime exploration risks heatstroke. Nighttime brings Sardaukar patrols. And then there are the sandworms.
I've been eaten twice now. The first time genuinely startled me, which is an achievement for a game to pull off against someone who has been gaming for four decades. The second time was entirely my fault for getting greedy with a spice flower harvesting run. Both times I lost everything I was carrying, which initially felt punishing until I realized that's rather the point. Arrakis doesn't care about your inventory management. Arrakis wants to kill you. The lore has always been clear on this, and the game commits to that philosophy completely.
The equipment degradation system will annoy you. I won't pretend otherwise. Watching your gear slowly fall apart creates a constant pressure to maintain, repair, or replace your kit. It's friction by design, and while I understand the intent to keep players engaged with crafting loops rather than simply acquiring end-game gear and coasting, there are moments where I just want to explore without worrying about my bike treads structural integrity. But I get it. I don't love it, but I get it. At Least the bikes don't take fall damage LOL.
Where the game truly shines is in the meticulous detail of the testing sites and encounters scattered across the map. These aren't just generic dungeons reskinned with Dune aesthetics. They feel considered and purposeful, adding texture and color to a world that could easily have felt barren. The underground ecology labs in particular reward exploration with rich environmental storytelling that Herbert himself might have appreciated. Every location feels like someone actually thought about why it exists and what purpose it serves within the broader fiction.
My one genuine frustration after forty hours is base relocation. I understand that building a permanent presence on Arrakis should carry weight and consequence. I understand that the game wants your architectural choices to matter. But sometimes you just build in a suboptimal location because you didn't know any better, and the process of tearing everything down to start fresh feels unnecessarily punitive. Funcom has apparently heard this feedback and is implementing base backup tools in recent patches, so perhaps this will smooth out over time.
The game recently passed a million copies sold, which suggests the market agrees that there's something special happening here. For a survival MMO to maintain my attention for forty hours while I'm juggling work and family obligations speaks to how effectively it captures the fantasy of surviving in Herbert's universe. I haven't even touched the Deep Desert PvP content yet, which promises an entirely different experience with weekly Coriolis storms reshaping the landscape and hundreds of players competing for resources.
I haven't picked a mentor yet, which apparently is a choice I should have made by now. The Bene Gesserit Voice ability sounds enormously satisfying, but so does the Mentat analytical approach. I'm paralyzed by options, which feels thematically appropriate for a Dune experience. The spice must flow, but first I need to figure out my build.
If you have any affection for Herbert's universe and any tolerance for survival game mechanics, Dune: Awakening deserves your attention. It respects its source material while carving out space for its own stories. It commits fully to making Arrakis feel genuinely hostile rather than merely inconvenient. And occasionally, a sandworm will swallow you whole and remind you that you're just a very small person on a very large and indifferent planet.
I'll see you in the desert. Probably House Atreides. Probably running from something.
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