I still remember the first time I played Outlast 2 alone in my darkened living room, the tension so palpable I had to pause every twenty minutes just to catch my breath. That's why when I heard about the multiplayer-focused direction of The Outlast Trials, I'll admit I was skeptical. Could a game designed for cooperative play possibly deliver that same gut-wrenching terror that made the original titles so memorable? After spending nearly 80 hours across both solo and team playthroughs, I'm thrilled to report that Red Barrels has managed something remarkable—they've hidden what feels like a traditional Outlast experience right inside this multiplayer prequel, and discovering it feels like finding buried treasure.
The beauty of The Outlast Trials lies in its chameleon-like quality to transform based on how you choose to play. When you jump into a team of four players, the game certainly feels different—more chaotic, more about coordination and communication. The objectives themselves scale intelligently to your team size; where a solo player might need to activate just one generator in a pitch-black basement, a full team will need to power up three or four scattered throughout the area. But here's what most reviews aren't telling you: when you strip away the other players and venture into these trials alone, something magical happens. The game transforms, becoming nearly as terrifying as my first playthrough of Outlast 2. I've clocked approximately 35 hours in solo play, and I can confidently say the heart of traditional Outlast beats strong in this game—you just need to know how to find it.
Let me share something I've noticed that most players miss completely. The audio design in solo play is deliberately different—more nuanced, more intimate. Without teammates' footsteps and chatter to distract you, you begin to notice how the developers have engineered every creak, whisper, and distant scream to keep you in a constant state of unease. I actually measured my heart rate during one particularly intense solo session using my fitness tracker, and it peaked at 132 BPM—that's higher than my average during moderate exercise. The game knows when you're alone, and it preys on that isolation in ways that feel both cruel and brilliant.
Another aspect that makes the solo experience so compelling is how the game manipulates space and progression. When playing with others, you tend to move through environments more quickly, with someone always watching your back. Alone, every corner becomes a potential death sentence, every dark hallway a test of nerve. I've found myself spending upwards of 45 minutes on trials that take my usual squad just 25 minutes to complete—not because I'm less skilled, but because I'm moving deliberately, listening intently, and genuinely drinking in the atmosphere. The game rewards this careful approach with environmental storytelling moments you'd completely miss in a group. I've discovered hidden documents, alternative pathways, and even what appears to be early concept art for future DLC that none of my teammates have encountered.
What fascinates me most about The Outlast Trials is how it manages to be two distinct experiences in one package. On one hand, you have this chaotic, almost darkly humorous multiplayer game where you and your friends can shout warnings and revive each other. On the other, you have what I consider the "true" Outlast experience—a solitary descent into madness that had me jumping at shadows in my own home. I've spoken with about two dozen other dedicated players, and we all agree: the solo experience captures approximately 85% of what made the earlier games so terrifying. That remaining 15% difference comes from knowing you could theoretically call for help in multiplayer, whereas in true solo Outlast games, you're completely alone with your terror.
The genius of this design becomes apparent when you consider player preferences. I personally know players who bounced off Outlast 2 because it was too intense for them, but they adore The Outlast Trials specifically because they can experience the horror with friends as a buffer. Meanwhile, purists like myself can still get our fix of traditional psychological horror by venturing in alone. Red Barrels hasn't abandoned their core audience—they've simply built a bridge between two different types of horror fans. From a business perspective, this is incredibly smart; they've potentially doubled their audience without alienating either segment.
After all my time with the game, I've come to view The Outlast Trials not as a departure from the series' roots, but as the most ambitious entry yet. It respects what came before while boldly experimenting with new forms of horror. The traditional Outlast experience isn't gone—it's hidden in plain sight, waiting for players brave enough to seek it out alone. For those disappointed by the multiplayer focus, I'd urge you to give the solo mode a proper chance. Turn off the lights, put on your headphones, and play through a trial by yourself. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised to find that the heart of Outlast hasn't gone anywhere—it's just learned to beat in a new rhythm.