But in a dozen hours, it's done. You either move onto one of two smaller scenarios, which are deceptively hard and focused around unique themes - one protecting the last seeds on Earth, the other housing an influx of refugees before the oppressive, rich lords arrive - or you play the main campaign again. The thrill, though, dulls considerably a second time around. Not only will you know what's coming, which I found spoiled the fun much more than I was expecting (though you can tinker with difficulty sliders to give yourself more of a challenge), the other, mutually exclusive law-path you can follow feels almost exactly the same. One is Order and one is Faith and Spirituality, and both are eventually as totalitarian as each other.
It's in this way Frostpunk feels like only the beginning: the first chapter of a larger survival story. You cling on and do what it takes to survive the first handful of weeks, but that's it. You never begin implementing the deeper infrastructures of a civilisation because the game isn't concerned with what comes next. It means by city builder standards Frostpunk's vision and playtime are limited, although at £25 it is priced to reflect it.
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