PEAK is a cooperative survival climbing game where 1–4 players scale a deadly mountain after a plane crash. Read our review to see what it did well, what it didn't do well, and if it's worth buying.
PEAK Review Overview
What is PEAK?
PEAK is a co-op climbing and survival game where players must scale a mysterious mountain island after surviving a plane crash. With both online and offline modes, the game challenges players to navigate through four dangerous biomes, balancing stamina, managing limited inventory, and making key survival decisions along the way. Every step is a gamble, as players face environmental hazards, poisonous foods, and difficult terrain. Built for 1–4 players, teamwork is crucial for success.
PEAK features:
⚫︎ Dead Players Turn to Ghosts
⚫︎ Minimal Story Premise
⚫︎ Changing Island Every 24 Hours
⚫︎ 4 Different Biomes
⚫︎ Online Co-op
⚫︎ Different Climbing Equipments
⚫︎ Light Character Customization
Digital Storefronts | |||||
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Price | $7.99 |
PEAK Pros & Cons
Pros | Cons |
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PEAK Overall Score - 76/100
PEAK is one of those indie titles that fully commits to its concept, even when that concept is stress, struggle, and shouting at your friend because they dropped the last fruit. It’s a game that thrives on tension and trust, rewarding players who communicate, adapt, and experiment with its small but impactful systems. While technical issues like server instability and missing QoL features (like alternative text chat) keep it from reaching its full potential, what’s here is still wildly engaging. It’s not polished perfection, but for the price and the memories it generates—both triumphant and chaotic—it’s more than worth the climb.
PEAK Story - 6/10
There’s no narrative to unpack here beyond the crash landing and the singular goal: reach the peak. And honestly? That’s enough. The island becomes the story, told through its hostile terrain, weird plants, and your own desperate decisions. But it’s hard not to imagine how much more immersive this could’ve been with micro-narratives per biome or even subtle environmental storytelling. As it stands, PEAK’s lack of narrative doesn’t break it—but it definitely holds it back from something greater.
PEAK Gameplay - 8/10
This is where PEAK shines. The stamina-focused climbing loop, limited inventory system, and chaotic survival elements all work together to create a beautifully stressful experience. Decisions matter. Movement matters. Your teammates matter. There’s no fluff here, just calculated risk and the occasional mushroom hallucination. It’s not perfect (bugs and lag can ruin a good run), but when the systems work, they work—making every fall feel like your fault, and every success feel like a miracle.
PEAK Visuals - 8/10
PEAK’s visuals are deceptively charming. For such a low-priced game, the art style delivers personality in spades. Biomes are distinct and memorable and visual effects like screen shake when falling and frost build-up when the fog catches up to you, genuinely elevate the tension. While you’ll occasionally clip through geometry, the game’s atmosphere rarely suffers for it. It’s cute. It’s deadly. It’s stylish on a budget.
PEAK Audio - 7/10
The audio design is solid across the board. From the groan of rope bridges to the ominous shift in music as you climb higher, PEAK uses sound to warn, mislead, and scare you. The proximity voice chat isn’t just a nice touch, it’s a fundamental mechanic. Your ability to coordinate depends entirely on how close you are to your teammate, making every shout, echo, and silence part of the tension. But when the system fails—cutting out your voice or dropping connection entirely—it doesn’t just annoy, it actively breaks the game.
PEAK Value for Money - 9/10
At just $7.99, PEAK is an easy recommendation. It’s short, yes, but endlessly replayable thanks to procedurally generated elements and the natural chaos of multiplayer. The island changes every 24 hours, your strategy changes, your friends definitely change—often from alive to ghost. It’s a perfect game night pick, and the kind of title you’ll keep reinstalling just to see if this time, you finally reach the summit. No microtransactions, no filler, just brutal, beautiful co-op survival.
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PEAK Review: Peak Crash Out
We’ve all asked that question at some point—"What would you bring if you got stranded on an island?" Some people say fire starters. Some go for a knife. A few sentimental types say a photo of their loved ones, as if that’ll keep them satiated when the coconuts run out. Me? I’d bring a friend. Not to doom them to the same mosquito-bitten, starvation-drenched fate I’m in, but because survival is just easier—better—when there’s someone to share the weight with.
That’s PEAK in a nutshell. You think you’re signing up for a cozy co-op hike through four scenic biomes, hand in hand with your best bud, maybe laughing as you roast marshmallows and mushrooms by a campfire. In reality? PEAK is a soul-testing, tendon-pulling, chaos-fueled survival climb that punishes every misstep and makes you question whether friendship is really worth the drag weight penalty (spoiler, it is).
You can try to go solo. I did. Once. I barely made it past the first hill. Every ounce of weight matters. Every item on your back—food, tools, first aid, that suspicious energy drink—takes a portion of your stamina. And without someone to give you a boost, literally, or pull you up over that ledge you almost reached, you’re going to slip. You’re going to fall. And in PEAK, one fall can mean the entire expedition resets.
At its core, PEAK is a co-op climbing game with a wicked streak of survival sim baked into every system. Your stamina bar is your lifeline, but nearly everything works to tear it down. Food replenishes it—sometimes. Other times? It poisons you. A candy might give you a sugar rush, boosting your stamina, but thirty seconds later you’re crashing, falling asleep, and crawling toward a berry bush that may or may not explode. Yes, explode. The island is cruel. Mites bite you. Ticks poison you. Some plants detonate with the fury of nature’s middle finger. And all you have to defend yourself is a barely-there survival guide and maybe your friend who’s equally clueless.
And yet… I loved every minute of it.
A Game That Doesn’t Want You to Win
The first thing you learn in PEAK—after the controls—is this: the island doesn’t care about you. There’s no tutorial fairy holding your hand. The opening guidebook gives you a nudge in the right direction, sure, but the rest? You figure it out the hard way. What’s safe to eat? Trial and error. What gadget does what? Trial and terror. The game throws you into an environment where the systems are logical but not labeled, like a survival escape room built by someone who thinks punishment is fun.
There are tools that help—a grappling hook that launches you across gaps, anti-gravity gadgets that let you climb anywhere—but every single one eats up your precious inventory slots. And here’s the catch: you only get three of those slots. Seven if you bring a backpack, but that also slows you down and drains your stamina faster. So now you’re doing risk-reward calculus: Do I carry food? A gadget? A medkit? A snack that might be an energy boost or might send me into sleep for the next few seconds? Every item is both a blessing and a liability.
And you better choose right. Because when you die—and you will—you start back at the very beginning. The campfires scattered between biomes are not checkpoints. They’re just warm, flickering lies. Cozy lies. Lies you’ll come to resent. Worse still, sometimes the game’s systems didn’t cooperate. On one run, we made it all the way to the end of the biome, tried to light the campfire—and the game bugged out. It just… wouldn’t let us through. We had to restart. No checkpoint. No save. Just the haunting realization that the island won that round.
The Mountain Has Biomes And They Hate You
The first biome is deceptively calm, mostly dry rock, scattered resources, and a pace that feels manageable. Like a tutorial zone that forgets to warn you it’s prepping you for pain. But as you climb higher, the island stops playing fair. Or maybe it never was. The bridges that seem to lure you into a straight path? Sometimes they’re helpful. Sometimes they just break. We learned not to walk the bridges together.
The second biome is where PEAK starts showing its fangs: maze-like pathways, misleading ridgelines, and verticality that dares you to slip. This mountain looks lush—green canopies, waterfalls nearby—but they’re a death trap wearing a flower crown. The ground is slick with moss. Your boots lose grip on surfaces that used to feel reliable. Rainfall makes everything worse.
And even worse than the rain is the fog. It’s more than just a visual obstacle. The fog climbs with you. You’ll see it coiling up the mountainside, almost alive. It doesn’t just obscure your path, it kills you slowly, through sheer cold. You’ll see your screen frosting at the edges. If you haven’t packed the right gear, you’re done. It’s death, creeping upward in silence, reminding you why rushing blindly forward is a bad idea. One time, we were running around like headless chickens, trying to climb up but there was just no way forward. By the time we regrouped, the fog had caught us. No words. Just a cold blur and a restart.
Each biome after that brings its own horror, and the higher you go, the less forgiving the terrain becomes. Resources become scarce. Hazards are more frequent. But I can’t even be mad. Because when we finally beat a biome, it felt earned. Like we’d clawed our way through with nothing but sheer panic and sheerer teamwork.
That’s PEAK. It’s a game built to stress you out, to make you flinch at the sound of snapping rope or a change of music. It wants you to scream. It wants you to jump from your seat. But it also wants you to laugh with the friend climbing with you, all of you barely holding it together as the fog rises, the bridges crumble, and someone eats another cursed mushroom again.
Communication Is Survival
Other reviewers here at Game8 and I spent most of our time stuck in the second biome, a tropical jungle maze masquerading as a mountaintop from hell. The map isn’t hand-holdy in the slightest. It winds and loops back on itself with no obvious path forward. Every step felt like a trap. Every climb felt like a gamble. We’d go up, only to realize the actual route was down, left, and then through a poisonous thicket guarded by two exploding shrubs.
Eventually, one of our crew died and stayed dead. But in PEAK, death isn’t the end—it’s just a new role. Our fallen comrade became a ghost, able to watch us and clip through walls and essentially becoming a scout. They couldn’t help physically, but their presence turned into a spectral GPS, yelling "don’t go that way!" as we considered scaling a dead end. Having a dead teammate worked, better than it should have.
Communication, in general, is half the game. PEAK uses proximity chat in a way that’s surprisingly immersive—voices echo when your partner drifts too far, and if you’re on the verge of death, their voices get faint, muffled, like you're already slipping out of reality. It’s a brilliant touch when it works. But. The server isn’t always stable, and when proximity chat cuts out—which happened more than once for us—it turns every coordinated climb into a game of charades. We had entire sections where emotes, nods and jumps were our only language. I can only imagine that if that happened while we were surrounded by the fog, it would feel like Orpheus leading Eurydice, hoping they hadn’t disappeared into the mist while I fumbled through the dark.
Would I have preferred a proper text chat to fall back on? Absolutely. Communication is so central to PEAK that losing it feels like losing a limb. But at the same time, there’s something compelling about the way the game demands trust—trust in your friend, trust in your instincts, trust that when you nudge your head to the left, they understand you mean "go left".
That’s just me being sentimental, though. When proximity chat fails, whether from a bug, a lag spike, or a flaky server, it’s game-breaking. In a game where coordination is survival, losing your voice can mean losing the run.
The Weight of Every Decision
There’s a reason we kept getting stuck in Biome 2, and it wasn’t just because the map was a tangled knot of dead ends, cliffs, and vertical puzzles that felt designed by a malicious spider. It was because PEAK doesn’t just ask you to survive. It asks you to make hard decisions before you even start climbing.
Like I’ve mentioned, the game only lets you carry three items. That’s it. Want more? You’ll need to bring a backpack. But again, backpacks add weight. Weight drains stamina. Less stamina means slower climbs, riskier jumps, and falling more often. Falling means dying. Dying means starting over. So every trip becomes a cruel version of "Would You Rather." Would you rather have healing and food—or gadgets and rope? A first-aid kit or a grappling hook? Water or fruit? Do you want to eat, or do you want to live?
Even if you do manage your inventory perfectly, PEAK is constantly pushing you toward failure. Climbing takes stamina, but so does carrying weight, getting injured, even sprinting through basic terrain. A single bad jump could mean falling twenty feet and burning through resources just to stabilize. And if your partner falls too? Hope you packed enough bandages. You did bring one, right? Oh, no? That’s okay—just make them walk it off. As a ghost.
You Can’t Survive Alone
If PEAK is a game about decisions, then it’s also a game about delegation. Every climb is a logistics problem disguised as a death trap. Who’s carrying the food? Who’s got the medkit? Who’s going to lug the backpack and take the stamina penalty, and who’s responsible for making sure they don’t get left behind when a cliff stands in their way? It’s not just about surviving the mountain. It’s about surviving each other.
And that’s where PEAK shines—because the game makes teamwork fun. Not forced. Not optional. Fun. You feel the burden of what you’re carrying, sure, but you also feel the weight your teammate has taken off your shoulders. They’re the reason you can bring a grappling hook. You’re the reason they can bring food. You are each other’s lifeline.
Yes, server disconnects and lag aren’t just minor annoyances in PEAK, they’re game-breaking. If we can’t stay connected, we can’t play. Simple as that. And when proximity chat fails or inputs start stuttering mid-climb, all that carefully planned coordination goes out the window. These are real issues, and they need fixing. But when the systems do work, when the servers are stable, when every jump lands, when the fog rolls in and your friend is right there pulling you up with one last burst of stamina—that’s when PEAK becomes unforgettable. PEAK is a game about shared hardship. About looking at your friend after a fall and saying, "Okay. Let’s try that again." And then doing exactly that—together.
Is PEAK Worth It?
Tie Your Boots & Grab A Friend
For $7.99, PEAK gives you four biomes, dozens of gadgets, proximity voice chat, ghosts, questionable fruit, and the chance to accidentally kill your friends with a misstep or a mushroom. That’s not just value, it’s a bargain. PEAK isn’t just a survival game, it’s a stress simulator wrapped in a climbing harness and duct-taped to a box of mystery mushrooms. It’s harsh, often unfair, sometimes broken, and unapologetically cruel. Yes, the servers can hiccup. Yes, you’ll scream at your inventory. But still, we kept coming back.
Because beneath the bugs and the backtracking, there’s something truly rare: a co-op experience that makes every choice feel heavy, every success feel earned, and every fall feel like a shared loss. It demands communication. It rewards teamwork. And it turns even your worst mistakes into stories you’ll laugh about once your heart rate slows down.
If you’ve got a friend who doesn’t mind dying beside you repeatedly—and ideally one who can carry a first-aid kit while you eat all the fruit—then yes. PEAK is worth it.
Digital Storefronts | |||||
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Price | $7.99 |
PEAK FAQ
Is There A Single Player Option For PEAK?
Yes! Players can try the game alone, offline.
What Are PEAK's System Requirements?
System | Minimum | Recommended |
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OS | Windows 10 | Windows 11 |
Processor | Intel Core i5 2.5 GHz or equivalent | Intel Core i5 3.0 GHz / AMD Ryzen 5 or equivalent |
Memory | 8 GB RAM | 16 GB RAM |
Graphics | NVIDIA GeForce GTX 1050 / AMD R9 380 | NVIDIA GeForce GTX 1060 / AMD RX 470 or equivalent |
Storage | 4 GB available space | 6 GB available space |
Game8 Reviews
PEAK Product Information
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Title | PEAK |
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Release Date | June 16, 2025 |
Developer | Landcrab |
Publisher | Aggro Crab, Landfall |
Supported Platforms | PC (Steam) |
Genre | Climbing, Platformer, Roguelike, Action, Survival |
Number of Players | 1-4 |
ESRB Rating | N/A |
Official Website | PEAK Website |
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