Sam Bridges had traversed desolate landscapes and navigated treacherous terrain in Death Stranding 2: On The Beach, but nothing prepared him for the visceral dread of the Giant BT. This grotesque apparition—a floating mass of vertebrae and exposed skull—represented more than just another obstacle; it was a baptism by fire in the unforgiving world of 2025. Players accustomed to the meditative rhythm of cargo delivery suddenly found themselves in a life-or-death struggle where missteps meant catastrophic voidouts. The transition felt jarring, almost cruel. Could one truly prepare for such an abomination?

Mexico’s Western Observatory served as the stage for this nightmare. After a cryptic conversation with Deadman—cut abruptly short by static—Main Order No. 6 flashed across Sam’s Odradek. A hill crest beyond the observatory marked the point of no return. Veterans of the first game might recognize the BT’s silhouette, yet its scale dwarfed anything encountered before. The air grew thick with chiralium, a silent warning that stepping forward meant descending into tar. Preparation wasn't optional; it was survival. Players quickly learned: exit that building unprepared, and the game over screen became inevitable. Why did Kojima Productions design this as the gateway to the game's next chapter? Perhaps to shatter any illusion of safety.

Sam’s loadout demanded ruthless prioritization. Standard firearms? Useless against this spectral horror. Every gram mattered—Blood Grenades became non-negotiable artillery, their crimson payloads dealing devastating damage to ectoplasmic flesh. The newly unlocked MP Assault Rifle offered sustained firepower, though its bullets only bit deep when drenched in Sam’s blood. Players faced a brutal inventory puzzle:

• Must-haves:

• 🩸 Blood Grenades (minimum 8)

• 🔫 MP Assault Rifle (1-2 units)

• 💉 Blood Bags (fill every pouch slot)

• Leave behind:

• Non-lethal tools

• Extra cargo

• Sentimental items (stored safely in the observatory’s locker)

Traveling light wasn't just advice—it dictated survival. The lighter Sam moved, the faster he dodged tentacle swipes and tar waves. Yet the arena itself conspired against him. Imagine a vast tar pit littered with sinking trucks and crumbling concrete islands. Movement became agonizingly slow, each step through viscous black sludge a battle against physics itself. How could anyone fight efficiently here?

The Giant BT’s attacks unfolded like a symphony of despair:

Vacuum Suction proved most terrifying—a literal game-ender if Sam got swallowed. Players discovered two escapes: landing a Blood Grenade inside its gaping mouth (instantly canceling the attack) or bracing against the pull with careful balance controls. Fail, and the subsequent Vacuum Release would scatter debris like shrapnel. The fight felt less like combat and more like navigating a sentient earthquake.

Patience became Sam’s greatest weapon. The Giant BT’s health bar stretched ominously across the screen, a taunt to underprepared porters. Its face—especially the exposed cranial cavity—served as the critical weak spot. Blood Grenades excelled here but demanded precision throws amidst chaotic movement. The MP Rifle offered consistency, especially when bullets pierced through blood mist for amplified damage. Yet the BT never stayed still; it submerged into tar currents, reappearing unpredictably. Staying mobile across debris islands wasn’t optional—it was the only way to avoid becoming tar-coated prey. Could anyone master this dance of death on their first try? Unlikely.

Players who emerged victorious carried more than just a sense of accomplishment. They’d transformed. The quiet deliveryman who once feared stumbling under cargo weight now understood the true stakes of the Beach. That first step into Mexico’s wilderness suddenly felt trivial compared to staring down a god of tar and teeth. Sam’s journey had always been about connection, but sometimes—just sometimes—it demanded the brutal disconnection of a Blood Grenade detonating inside a nightmare’s maw. After all, what’s a walk in the apocalypse without a few world-ending horrors along the way? 🌌