White Knuckle, by Dark Machine Games and published by DreadXP, is a first-person roguelite speed-climbing game where survival isn’t about combat—it’s about stamina, resource management, and not letting go. You’re scaling a crumbling vertical hellscape while managing your tools, your grip, and your panic. It’s brutal, focused, and absolutely terrifying.
You wake up 10,000 meters underground, pinned beneath megatons of rotting steel and silence. There’s no gun. No friends. No clear goal beyond this: climb. Higher. Faster. Smarter. Because something down here doesn’t want you getting out—and it’s catching up.
🧗 Momentum Meets Mortality
This isn’t parkour. This is physics-based, stamina-draining, finger-numbing climbing. One hand on the pipe. One hand on your drill. Ten seconds of stamina left. A bad swing here means death—and death means starting over.
White Knuckle’s climbing system is tight and ruthless. You grip with one hand at a time, alternate movement carefully, and use momentum to swing, launch, or propel yourself upward. It’s a constant calculation: spend stamina to climb faster or conserve for when the wall fights back.
What elevates the system is how mechanical and tactile it feels. You’re not “pressing forward” — you’re climbing. Inch by inch. Jump by jump. Miss a pipe by an inch and you fall to your death. Make the grab, and the adrenaline rush is real.
🎒 Climb First, Think Second, Regret Later
Every tool you carry—pitons, ropes, food, energy gels—matters. Inventory isn’t just gear; it’s time, weight, and survival. Overpack, and you’ll move slow or get encumbered mid-air. Underpack, and you’ll run out of what you need at the worst possible moment.
And here’s the twist: you can’t manage inventory in peace. You’re doing it mid-climb. Dangling from a ledge. In the dark. With something hissing below you.
Success depends on improvisation. Do you use your last rebar to climb this vent shaft? Or save it for the next wall that’s just a little too far to jump? These are the kinds of micro-decisions that make or break every run.
🌌 A World That Hates You Quietly
Substructure 17 isn’t just a setting—it’s a character. The deeper you climb, the worse it gets. The Silos feel abandoned, dry, dead. Pipeworks is humid, slick, and full of things that squirm. Habitation? Let’s just say if the lights flicker, it’s already too late.
There are no cutscenes. No exposition dumps. The story is told through your surroundings—strange signage, mutated plants, and industrial design that feels wrong in subtle ways. It’s sci-fi horror without needing a single scream.
And yes, there are enemies. Not in the traditional sense—you’re not shooting anything—but there are things in the walls, the vents, and the dark that absolutely want you dead. They don’t hunt you. They wait. And the moment you screw up, they’re there.
✅ What Works
🔹 Elite Climbing Mechanics
No fluff here—this is the best-feeling climbing system in a video game, period. It’s not forgiving, but it’s completely fair and addicting.
🔹 Roguelike Depth Without RNG Bloat
Runs are randomized just enough. It’s not procedural garbage. Each room feels designed, even if the path changes.
🔹 Terrifying Atmosphere
Without jump scares or gore, the game builds constant tension. The sound design, lighting, and world detail all reinforce that oppressive dread.
🔹 Tools With Real Weight
Rebar, ropes, pitons, food—these are real objects you physically manage. Using them mid-action is stressful and satisfying.
🔹 No Hand-Holding
The game respects your intelligence. You learn by failing, not by tutorials.
🔹 Replay-Heavy Design
Between meta-progression unlocks, hidden augments, and secret paths, there’s always a reason to try another run.
❌ What Doesn’t
🔻 Inventory System Mid-Climb
Navigating your bag while clinging to a wall is intentionally stressful, but sometimes it crosses the line into “why did I just die to UI?”
🔻 Enemies Feel Off
The “bugs” are annoying rather than scary. Their design doesn’t match the polish of the rest of the world—and they don’t feel fun to encounter.
🔻 Visual Clarity Issues
In darker zones, it can be unclear which surfaces are climbable. Missed jumps from bad reads happen too often.
🔻 Early Access Repetition
Only three biomes are live right now. After 8–10 hours, you’ll start recognizing layouts and losing tension in the first third of each run.
🔻 No Story Payoff (Yet)
The atmosphere is rich, but there’s no real narrative hook. You’re climbing because… reasons? Full release might fix this, but it’s missing now.
🧠 Should You Play It?
Yes, if you:
- Love Jump King, Celeste, or Getting Over It
- Crave high-stress, skill-driven gameplay
- Are into horror games without traditional combat
- Enjoy roguelikes that prioritize mechanics over numbers
No, if you:
- Want a guided narrative or clear story arc
- Get easily frustrated by repeated failure
- Expect traditional “progression” early on
- Prefer action over atmosphere
💰 Should You Buy It?
Yes—if you want to support one of the most original climbing-focused games ever made. The core experience is already fantastic. Just be aware it’s Early Access, and the full roguelike structure isn’t fully in place yet.
If you’re unsure, play the demo. It’s huge, it’s representative, and it will make or break the experience for you.
White Knuckle: White Knuckle is a brutal, brilliant climbing game trapped inside a skin of industrial horror. It doesn’t beg for your attention—it demands your focus, your patience, and your respect. Every run is an exercise in tension. Every death is a lesson. And every inch climbed feels like defiance. There’s work to be done before it reaches its full potential. The enemy design needs rethinking. The meta-progression needs more teeth. But the foundation? Rock solid. If the devs stick the landing, White Knuckle could become the Spelunky of vertical horror. Right now, it’s a cult hit waiting to explode. – Flare