Awakening the Caretaker
The Last Caretaker by Channel 37 was one of the highlights of Gamescom 2025 for me. I met with Creative Director Antti Ilvessuo and Community Manager Jack Pattillo for an exclusive interview about their vision for a drowned Earth, the caretaker robots that inherit it, and the ideas shaping the studio’s debut project. Beyond the conversation, I also had the chance to spend half an hour with an early build — experimenting with systems, poking at mechanics, and exploring how the game’s world unfolds when curiosity takes the lead.
Table of Contents
To understand Channel 37’s path, we should first glance back at where Antti came from — the long shadow of Trials and its unlikely rise.

From Trials to Channel 37
When Antti Ilvessuo steps into the room, he doesn’t need a long introduction. The Finnish designer is forever tied to Trials – the long-running series where a motorcycle rider in a 2.5D world traverses obstacles under the influence of simulated physics. What began as a browser game back in 2000 went on to spawn more than fifteen entries across every major console and platform — even the legendary Nokia N-Gage (I had one!). At its peak, Trials HD was the best-selling game on Xbox Live Arcade, cementing Antti’s reputation as a designer who could turn simple mechanics into something timeless.
“I’m from Finland, so it’s a serious thing,” Antti quips, and while the line draws laughs, it also frames the attitude he brings into game development. Four years ago was the moment to start something new.

“We were getting older,” Antti admits with a half-smile. “Maybe it was time to do something a little different.” That thought became Channel 37, a small studio founded with backing from Supercell. On paper, it was an unlikely match: a mobile giant investing in a PC and console project. But the pitch struck a chord, and the deal went through almost instantly.
“I’m from Finland, so it’s a serious thing”
Channel 37 today is a nine-person team, relying on external partners for areas like audio, marketing, and testing. It’s a compact setup that lets them focus on the creative core while staying nimble. As Antti describes it, every new build is stress-tested overnight by external QA, returning fresh feedback with the sunrise. It’s a rhythm that keeps the studio lean but effective.
With nearly twenty-five years of game development behind them, Antti and his co-founders bring veteran experience to this new venture.
Channel 37 and Alien Frequencies
Call this section a bonus track. When I was doing final edits and opened a photo, I noticed strange numbers and Latin words on the studio’s logo. After a bit of digging, my instincts were confirmed — there’s a lot more going on here than just a name.
According to Wikipedia, the 605–615 MHz band — also known as Channel 37 — is reserved worldwide for radio astronomy. No TV broadcasts are allowed in this range so scientists can listen to the universe without interference. The wavelengths from 49.55 cm to 48.75 cm are even printed on the outer ring of the logo, exactly as they appear in the official charts.
Channel 37 also has a fascinating backstory. In the 1950s, scientists clashed with American broadcasters who wanted to use that frequency for TV. The scientists won, preserving a silent channel so telescopes could tune in to the cosmos. As VICE summed it up:
“Channel 37 doesn’t exist on your TV dial because scientists wanted to hear the universe, not sitcoms.”
The logo goes deeper still. ASKAP J173608.2–321635 is not just random gibberish — it’s a real transient radio signal detected in 2020 by the Australian Square Kilometre Array Pathfinder (read further at ResearchGate). Astronomers still don’t fully understand it, which makes it the perfect kind of mystery to etch onto a game studio’s crest. And that Latin motto, Alveo Triginta Septem, literally means “in Channel 37.”
Honestly, I have no idea what the connection really is. Maybe Antti stumbled across the story while reading the news and thought it was a cool reference. And maybe that was his “aha” moment — the spark that turned into founding a new indie game studio called Channel 37. Whatever the truth, the mystery behind the name might be the first puzzle we’ll never fully solve. But enough about signals and studio lore — let’s finally dial into the game itself, shall we?
A World Drowned, A Duty Awakened
“All you have to do is save humanity.” Community Manager Jack Pattillo delivers the line with a grin, knowing full well how absurdly heavy it sounds. Yet, that’s the core of The Last Caretaker.

Earth as a solid surface is gone — drowned beneath endless oceans. Humanity escaped into orbit, only to learn the most brutal truth: children cannot be born in space. The solution left behind was both desperate and ingenious. Vast platforms were built to house caretaker robots. Their mission: raise human seeds into adults, train them with skills and specializations, and launch them into orbit to keep the colonies alive. Each successful launch brings back rewards, pushing the caretaker to refine the next generation. So now it drops on your shoulders! The task is clear, but never simple.
You awaken as one such machine, alone after more than a century of silence. The other caretakers are gone. Their stations stand empty, their purpose unfinished. The mystery you face immediately: what happened to them — and what remains of humanity’s plan?
And that’s basically it. After that short briefing I sat down for a 30-minute hands-on experience. Here is a video of my curious game exploration. Please note, the video contains no spoilers apart from a few minutes of early play and a handful of combat encounters with the wildlife you may stumble upon yourself.
The Symbol of Hope
Not every detail in The Last Caretaker is mechanical. Some are deeply symbolic. Antti Ilvessuo points to the orange scarf wrapped around the caretaker’s frame. It’s more than a cosmetic flourish — it carries the weight of memory.
“When the waters began to rise, people fled. But there were also orphaned children,” Antti explains. “Each orphan was given a teddy bear with an orange scarf. That scarf became a symbol of hope.”

The game’s world preserves those echoes: posters scattered across abandoned platforms, teddy bears tucked into corners, reminders of what was left behind. By wearing the scarf, the caretaker fulfills more than its mission — it upholds humanity’s last fragments of comfort and resilience.
To drive the point home, Antti handed me the very same orange scarf, along with a 3D-printed model of the scarf displayed on a podium. My wife, who joined me during the interview, immediately declared that I looked stylish with it — so I wore the scarf proudly through the rest of the day’s meetings. The model nudged a memory of my long-abandoned 3D-printing hobby, and I decided it’s time to revive it. Consider this fair warning: you might soon find a printer review or some freshly made props popping up on the site.

Nevertheless, back in the game’s drowned world defined by machinery, steel, and flooded ruins: the smallest scrap of cloth becomes a reminder that this isn’t just about survival. It’s about meaning.
Waterworld, WALL-E, and Other Echoes
The comparisons were bound to surface. As I watched the waves break against rusted steel platforms, the first thought that came to mind was Kevin Costner’s Waterworld (1995). An oceanic planet, scraps of civilization clinging to oil rigs and derelict ships — the resemblance is hard to ignore. I asked if the film had been on the studio’s moodboard.
Jack Pattillo laughed. “I mean, it’s reminiscent, but I don’t think there was any intention behind it. There’s no dry land here at all. Everything you see is platform after platform.” Then, slipping into theme park trivia, he added with a grin: “They still run a Waterworld stunt show at Universal Studios in California. It’s fantastic.”

But the echoes don’t stop there. As I played, another image lingered — Pixar’s lonely little robot. “We’ve heard that too,” Jack admitted. “Someone once called the game WALL-E with guns. I can kind of see it.” Both caretakers — the animated one and Channel 37’s mechanical protagonist — were built for a single purpose: tending to what humanity left behind. One does it with curiosity and a trash compactor. The other, with circuitry, rockets, and sometimes a rifle, why not?!
And here’s the shocking coincidence: my very next interview slot at Gamescom was with the team at THQ, who are working on Tides of Tomorrow — another game set on a waterlogged planet, thematically close to Waterworld. Two separate projects, two separate booths, both riffing on drowned futures. Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe we really should stop tossing trash into the oceans and pay more attention to our melting poles. Either way, it left me staring at my schedule thinking, what are the chances?

References like these aren’t dismissed; they’re part of the conversation around The Last Caretaker. They frame expectations, but they also highlight what makes Channel 37’s take unique. The world is not parody or homage. It is its own vision — a handcrafted ocean of steel and silence, waiting for players to find their own echoes in the ruins.
The Caretaker’s Three Approaches
If The Last Caretaker is built on grand ideas — flooded worlds, lost humanity, lone machines — its moment-to-moment design is anything but abstract. Channel 37 has laid out three pillars to guide the experience: exploration, systemic gameplay, and survival.

Exploration comes first. The ocean stretches to the horizon, and every platform or structure you spot can be reached. There are no invisible walls, no “off-limits” zones. The map is the same for everyone, but it’s entirely handcrafted, every corner carrying intention instead of procedural filler. You can, in theory, walk straight out of the opening hangar and head for the game’s farthest reaches. The caretakers won’t stop you. The waves might.
Systemic gameplay means freedom in how you play. Builders can recycle scrap into metal, fabricate batteries, and construct machines. Fighters can turn that same material into ammo and weapons to take on hostile lifeforms. There’s no single prescribed path; you’re free to experiment and find your own rhythm of survival.
Jack Pattillo put it more directly: “If you’re a fan of Subnautica, No Man’s Sky, Astroneer, Satisfactory — those style games — you’re going to love this game. It’s 100% in that same wheelhouse.”

And then comes the survival itself. The planet is hostile, with wild weather systems that whip calm waters into crushing storms. Lightning tears the skies, waves slam against platforms, and predators surface from the depths. I know, a little too poetic — blame the scarf for putting me in that mood.
“If you’re a fan of Subnautica, No Man’s Sky, Astroneer, Satisfactory — those style games — you’re going to love this game.”
Choices, Challenges, and Continuity
Death in The Last Caretaker isn’t a hard stop. Instead of a game-over screen, you reload from your last backup — a save station where your systems were tethered. Progress can sting if you’re careless, but the design ensures you’re never completely stuck. Even if your vessel runs out of fuel, you can scrape together solar power to limp forward. “It might be difficult,” Jack Pattillo said, “but there’s always a way.”

It’s a philosophy of resilience. The world may be harsh, but there’s always a path through. Some encounters demand clever preparation, others brute force or sheer persistence, but the caretaker’s journey never collapses into failure.
Nightfall changes the stakes. “Some of the enemies are actually repulsed by light. During the day, they avoid, but at night when it’s dark, they show up and swarm you.” A flashlight becomes more than a tool — it’s survival. Mounted floodlights on your ship can mean the difference between safe passage and an ambush from the waves. And yes, there are sharks. They won’t tear into your ship, but they’ll happily make a meal of you if you dive in unprepared.

The loop is not about final victory but adaptation — small wins stacked against an ocean that never sleeps. The caretaker endures, not because it is invincible, but because retreat is never the only option.
Loneliness and Hope
While The Last Caretaker offers a solid shooter experience, a demanding survival layer, and vast opportunities for exploration, what struck me most was something between the lines of game design and story. It wasn’t grim, not the kind of loneliness that punishes you for being alive. Instead, it carried a sense of melancholy — a philosophy of solitude that leans toward calm serenity, even moments of self-reflection.
I put the thought to Jack Pattillo: were players feeling emotions the team hadn’t predicted? He nodded. “It’s been fun watching it because the world itself is very deep and very unique. Everyone’s response is different. Some people dive into the story, others ignore it — but they all want to keep playing.”

That openness is deliberate. Antti Ilvessuo stressed it earlier: “This is not a shooting game. Some titles, you enter a new area and you always have to fight. Here, you can take your time. Read the lore. Explore freely.”
The orange scarf ties directly into that theme. A simple accessory becomes a symbol of hope — reminding you that even in a drowned world of steel and storms, solitude doesn’t have to mean emptiness. Sometimes, it means purpose.
Too poetic again? Sorry, scarf effect still active. But I really did feel something deeper here — maybe even beyond what the developers set out to design. The quiet exploration, the weight of small symbols, the rhythm of solitude… it all gave me the same vibe I once felt in Zero Generation (2019). That game had its own moments of unexpected stillness, where mechanics blurred into something more reflective than the genre promised. The Last Caretaker tapped into that same space — a mix of survival and self-reflection that lingers longer than you’d expect.
Serendipity in Development
Not everything in The Last Caretaker was designed on paper. Some details slipped in by accident, then stayed because they resonated.
Jack Pattillo recalled one of his weekly Twitch streams where he picked up a teddy bear and tossed it into the recycler. The stream watchers instantly yelled: “No, don’t do that!” Afterwards, the developers made the bears indestructible. Throw one into the shredder today and it just bounces back out, unharmed. What began as a joke became a small but fitting rule: some symbols are too important to be destroyed.

That spirit runs through development. Every week Jack plays the latest build live, and the team often hides new elements just to see how he reacts. “It’s been fun,” he said. “The guys coding the game sneak things in, move stuff around, and then I stumble into it with the audience watching.” It’s a playful process, but also a window into how passionate Channel 37 is about keeping the world alive with surprises.
What’s Next for The Last Caretaker
Channel 37 plans to launch The Last Caretaker into Early Access before the end of 2026 on Steam and the Epic Games Store. The goal is to keep the game in Early Access for roughly twelve months — long enough to gather player feedback, refine systems, and polish the drowned world into its final form. “This is not the kind of game we plan to be in Early Access like eight years,” Antti Ilvessuo stressed. “We have to be comfortable, and players have to like it.” Unless something truly disastrous gets in the way, the team expects a full release to follow on all major consoles once that cycle is complete.
The Last Caretaker System Requirements
Minimum
- Processor: Quad-core Intel or AMD, 3.2 GHz or faster
- Memory: 16 GB RAM
- Graphics: NVIDIA GeForce GTX 1070 / AMD Radeon RX 5700 or equivalent
Recommended
- Processor: Intel Core i5 or AMD Ryzen 5, 3.5 GHz or faster
- Memory: 32 GB RAM
- Graphics: NVIDIA GeForce RTX 2070 / AMD Radeon RX 6700 XT or equivalent

If this drowned world and its caretaker caught your attention, don’t forget to add it to your Steam wishlist or follow the project on Epic. For a small studio, every click and wishlist really does help bring the game closer to launch.
…and this leads us to a very orange wrap-up to conclude what I’ve learned.
Carrying Symbols, Building Worlds
The Last Caretaker is a game where the passion of its creators seeps into every corner. Channel 37 may be a nine-person studio, but they’re shaping something with AAA scope — rich in visuals, layered in game mechanics, and polished with a level of intent most bigger teams only aspire to.
Antti made it clear: every floating structure in the ocean was placed by hand, with purpose. No procedural filler, no AI shortcuts. That philosophy of care stood in stark contrast to how I played — ignoring hints, tearing through encounters, and earning myself the title of “Killer of Robots.” As a reward he handed me a hefty 3D-printed crowbar, a reminder of my crimes and a symbol of the playful energy running through the team. (Go check my playthrough and see if you can spot that moment yourself.)

Between the orange scarf, the crowbar, and the drowned world they’re crafting, it’s clear The Last Caretaker is built with both melancholy and hope in mind. And while Early Access is still ahead, I’ll be watching closely when this tide finally rises — because some games already carry the feeling of something unforgettable long before they reach the shore. In The Last Caretaker, maybe that shore is just an orange scarf instead.
Anchors aweigh!

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