"It’s Minecraft with trauma."

7 Days to Die is that magical mix of survival horror and base-building panic, where every decision feels like it was made by a committee of raccoons high on adrenaline. You start off punching grass and eating old sandwiches — next thing you know, you’re holed up in a wooden cube praying it holds back 37 feral zombies doing parkour at midnight.

The first few days are chill. Then the 7th day hits, and suddenly your shack is a war crime. Your friend fell into a spike trap they built themselves, the roof's on fire, and you're screaming because a zombie clipped through a wall like it's a Bethesda game.

It’s buggy, it’s janky, it’s beautiful. The building system? Deep. The crafting? Addictive. The loot? A gamble. The jump scares from a silent zombie crawling out of a cupboard while you're looting? Emotional damage.

10/10 — would eat cat food and die in a pit of my own spikes again.

"It’s Minecraft with trauma." 7 Days to Die is that magical mix of survival horror and base-building panic, where every decision feels like it was made by a committee of raccoons high on adrenaline. You start off punching grass and eating old sandwiches — next thing you know, you’re holed up in a wooden cube praying it holds back 37 feral zombies doing parkour at midnight. The first few days are chill. Then the 7th day hits, and suddenly your shack is a war crime. Your friend fell into a spike trap they built themselves, the roof's on fire, and you're screaming because a zombie clipped through a wall like it's a Bethesda game. It’s buggy, it’s janky, it’s beautiful. The building system? Deep. The crafting? Addictive. The loot? A gamble. The jump scares from a silent zombie crawling out of a cupboard while you're looting? Emotional damage. 10/10 — would eat cat food and die in a pit of my own spikes again.