Surviving Ceres is a first-person survival simulation game set on the frozen surface of Ceres, a dwarf planet in the asteroid belt. Read on to learn everything we know, our review of the beta test, and more.
Everything We Know About Surviving Ceres
Surviving Ceres Plot
Surviving Ceres doesn’t offer much narrative. You’re dropped onto the planet with little context, and the only communication from Earth comes in the form of mundane colonist messages. There’s no grand mystery to uncover, no real backstory to your mission, just survival for survival’s sake.
Surviving Ceres Gameplay
Surviving Ceres is a first-person survival game that throws you onto a frozen, hostile planet and dares you to make something of it. Resource management is at the core of the experience—you’ll be mining, refining materials, building shelters, and constantly struggling against the brutal environment. Oxygen drains quickly, stamina is limited, and if you stray too far without backup supplies, death comes fast.
Surviving Ceres Release Date
Surviving Ceres is currently in beta testing, with a release date set on May 2, 2025.
Ryan Saunders, the developer, has acknowledged player feedback and seems to be actively working on improvements.
| Digital Storefronts | |||||
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 Steam |
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| Price | $10 | ||||
Surviving Ceres Review (Beta Test)
Great Ideas, Poor Execution
We all have that one relationship with something we keep going back to, no matter how much it frustrates us—whether it’s a toxic ex, dating apps, or a hobby that’s more stress than relaxation. That’s my time with Surviving Ceres. No matter how much I tell myself I’m done, I keep coming back. I know it’s not going to get any better (at least not yet), but something about it just won’t let me go.
Looks Like a Mobile Game, Feels Like a Mobile Game
First things first, if you told me Surviving Ceres was originally a mobile game that somehow found its way to PC, I’d believe you. The UI, the movement, the clunky interactions—it just has that weird stiffness you find in mobile ports. If I were playing this on a tablet, I might not even question it. But on PC? The controls feel unpolished, like they were designed for touchscreens first and buttons second.
And it’s not just the controls. The way menus function, the overall lack of smoothness, it reminds me of those survival-builder games buried in the depths of the app store, the ones with "Planet Colony Simulator" in the title and a million ads. It just doesn’t have that PC game feel, and that’s a problem when you’re playing with a mouse and keyboard.
The Perspective Problem
Speaking of things that feel off, let’s talk about the first-person perspective. On paper, it does well to avoid motion sickness (which I appreciate), but why do I feel so low to the ground? Am I playing as a colonist who’s barely five feet tall? Or is everything around me scaled weirdly? It throws me off constantly, and while it’s not game-breaking, it’s one of those little annoyances that just shouldn’t be there.
Then there’s the flashlight. If I’m looking forward, why is it pointing at the floor? I’m trying to see where I’m going, not admire the snowy ground. Night exploration is already difficult with how limited visibility is, but this makes it ten times worse. A small but frustrating design flaw that chips away at the experience.
Survival, But Not in the Way You’d Expect
Survival games thrive on a good balance of challenge and progression, but here? The struggle isn’t just about managing resources, it’s about fighting the game’s systems to understand how anything works. The tutorial is basically a text box in the top right corner that gives you vague hints, but it never fully explains what you actually need to do.
Take one of the most basic tasks: turning iron ore into iron blocks. It sounds simple, right? In any other survival game, you’d expect some kind of logical flow, like crafting a furnace or smelter. Here? I ran around aimlessly for way too long, reading descriptions of every bit of equipment, before realizing I needed to place a refinery just to unlock the option to process raw materials. Makes sense in hindsight, but with how little guidance the game provides, it felt like solving a puzzle with missing pieces.
This could have been easily avoided if the manual on how to survive in Ceres was more in depth, which would also make sense because—who gets sent off to space without a proper survival guide? A simple in-game codex or a more detailed tutorial could have prevented so much frustration.
The Never-Ending Resource Drain
But let’s say you do figure things out—good luck keeping up with the game’s relentless survival mechanics. I played on normal mode, and even then, I felt like I was barely keeping my head above water. Oxygen drains way too fast. I’d go out to mine, and within minutes, I’d have to rush back to base before suffocating. Explore a little too far? Better hope you remembered to bring extra canisters, or you’re dead.
This constant back-and-forth loop became exhausting. I’d mine for a bit, then rush back. Go explore, then rush back. Every three minutes, I was running to base like my life depended on it—because it did. And don’t even get me started on sprinting. Five seconds. That’s all the stamina bar gives you. Five seconds of running before I’m left wheezing like I just finished a marathon. Traversing the map is an absolute pain when movement feels this slow and restrictive.
Isolation and the Unknown
For a game about colonizing a frozen wasteland, Surviving Ceres nails the feeling of isolation, sometimes too well. The first time I saw glowing eyes in the distance, I froze. I wasn’t sure if they were friendly, hostile, or just part of the environment. Turns out, they leave you alone at first. But as you progress, maybe they also start seeing you as a threat, and that’s when things get interesting.
This is one of the few times the game actually builds tension. Knowing that something is out there, waiting, watching, it adds a layer of suspense that I wish was utilized more. But outside of this, the game doesn’t do much to make you feel truly immersed in its world.
No Lore, No Purpose
And that’s the biggest issue: there’s no real reason to care about what you’re doing. You’re dropped onto this frozen rock with zero backstory, and the only communication you get from Earth is… weirdly mundane. Colonists back home send starter kits with a "Good luck out there! Hope you fare better than the last guy did" message. That’s it. No deep lore, no unfolding mystery—just casual notes from people who clearly don’t understand that I’m out here fighting for my life.
This is a huge missed opportunity. The premise of colonizing a distant planet has so much potential for an engaging story, but the game doesn’t take advantage of it. Even a basic log system of previous pilgrims or some kind of mission structure would go a long way in making the experience feel more meaningful.
Inflated Economy
And then we get to the in-game economy. You can export materials back to Earth for money and also import the things you need, which sounds great—until you realize just how absurd the pricing is. A single MRE costs one million credits. A bottle of mineral water? Also one million. I get that I’m on a distant planet, but come on. This is next-level price gouging.
Sure, you earn money in the millions too, but it still feels ridiculous. I’m literally terraforming a planet—why am I being charged premium rates for basic survival items? If the game wants me to focus on economy management, it needs to make the system feel fair instead of just frustrating.
The Saving Grace
Now, despite all my complaints, Surviving Ceres does have something going for it—base building. Expanding from a small outpost into a fully functional research station is incredibly satisfying. You can set up solar farms, construct greenhouses, and even start terraforming the planet. Seeing my base light up in the middle of this barren world gave me a sense of accomplishment I wasn’t expecting.
The best part? The freedom. You can design your base however you want, with no restrictions on layout. Sure, the way buildings are created out of a tiny machine doesn’t make sense in the slightest, but honestly? I didn’t care. It felt good to see my outpost grow, even if everything else in the game was actively trying to make my life miserable.
Surviving Ceres has all the right ideas. The base-building, the sense of progression through terraforming, even the survival elements, they could be fantastic if the execution was better. But right now, it’s rough, unpolished, and frustrating in ways that don’t feel intentional.
Would I recommend it in its current state? Unfortunately not. But will I keep an eye on it? Absolutely. If the dev, Ryan Saunders, refines the mechanics, adds more lore, and fixes some of these glaring issues, Surviving Ceres could turn into something truly special. For now, though? It’s a game I love to hate—and one I can’t seem to put down.
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Survivng Ceres Product Information
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| Title | SURVIVING CERES |
|---|---|
| Release Date | May 2, 2025 |
| Developer | Ryan Saunders |
| Publisher | One Man Media |
| Supported Platforms | PC (Steam) |
| Genre | Survival, Simulation |
| Number of Players | 1 |
| ESRB Rating | N/A |
| Official Website | Survivng Ceres Official Website |
