February 2024

On Prey

Prey is exactly the kind of game I hate. It’s a game with too many systems and too little guidance. It is too easy to feel stupid or lost in a game meant to “fit any play-style.” Prey is also difficult. Especially in the early game. You are meant to feel powerless and carefully plan your enemy engagements – which usually amounts to finding any way to *not* engage. However, you aren’t told this. Instead you will be stonewalled by a Voltaic Phantom or die one too many times to a household object. In either case, it can feel unforgiving, unfair, and directionless. If you end up finishing, you may feel that you didn’t play “correctly” and still don’t understand why people love this game so much.

Prey is exactly the kind of game I love. There is a level of craft unmatched in a modern era of conservative development and severe crunch. Every whiteboard, email, and sticky note is bespoke and has its place in the lore and history of the world. It is so clear the people who made this game are skilled and were given the artistic license to make a work of art. As a player, you are rewarded in-kind for every inch you choose to explore. I never tired of the feeling of revealing even the smallest new clue. The writing, overarching story, and voice-acting bring to life the remaining humanity of Talos I. The stakes feel high and consequences crushing. With side-quests that will last in our memories and smash our hearts, Prey is simply masterful.

If you have looked up anything about Prey, then you know eggshells does not begin to describe the care people have when speaking about this game. It is essentially unanimous that knowing as little as possible is the best approach to Prey. But, I think it’s possible for me to write about my adoration without spoiling, so here we go.

Prey is an “immerisve simulation.” A genre of videogames defined by its ability to make you *feel* immersed in the setting and atmosphere of the world. While oft misconstrued, immersive sims aren’t about mechanics, they are about experience. They typically share a first-person perspective, RPG skill trees, minimal UI, moral decision making, deep narrative, and multiple, overlapping systems. All of these elements create the illusion that *you* are making every choice. It is the special mixture of abilities and encounters that lead to unique, emergent gameplay. This magical stew makes it feel like *your* story.

Igniting an oil slick, trapping a Phantom in a security office, innocently mimic-ing a coffee cup while a Telepath rolls by, and nailing a foam dart shot across a room, all exemplify the beauty of the genre. While Prey does everything exceedingly well, the specter of BioShock is always looming. Hence the immersive sim talk. There are a myriad of mechanics, designs, and interactions that transport me back to Rapture – a setting I haven’t experienced in a decade. But, when I play Prey, I can’t let myself see it as a standalone game. It isn’t a critique. Imitating one of the greatest games of all time is a sound strategy and no easy task. I just felt that I wasn’t getting everything out of Prey that so many rave about. Having said that, while Prey doesn’t match BioShock’s story, it meets or exceeds it in every other category.

The mechanics and systems, though? They absolutely soar beyond.

I am still in awe. I can’t believe these developers unleashed so many systems into this game. From the Gloo gun to the toy crossbow to the mimic ability. It’s as if you merged Gary’s mod with BioShock. I honestly struggle to understand how this game *works* – and how I haven’t broken it yet. I am constantly thinking “It’s insane I was able to do that!” just to turn around and do something equally surprising. It’s all so damn *clever.* I can imagine the developers as they pile gold upon gold. Playing this game *7 years* after release and there aren’t games that best it.

Alright, I am going to speed-run a few other things I love about this game. MY GOD YOU CAN FLY IN SPACE AND IT DOESN’T SUCK. I could spend hours talking about how fantastic this game was *without* Talos I exterior. AND THEN THEY PUT THIS IN?! The audacity of this studio. The design is immaculate. It just bleeds swagger in the executive areas and top-tier dystopian sci-fi in engineering and the labs. The music and sound design know how to play with your heart-strings and keep the tension on. Every body in this world has a name and story. Voice-acting brings depth of character and emotion to each interaction. Each weapon, the myriad of abilities, and infinite use cases boggle my mind. The story stays in its lane, prioritizing your gameplay experience, but shows up when it needs to. The lore! The lore! I adore the lore! I can play for 20 hours and spend another 5 theory crafting and watching YouTube videos.

While assessing whether or not I wanted to sink in the time to play Prey, I stumbled across a few opinions. One that was consistent is that the ending is abrupt and doesn’t stick the landing. I completely disagree and want to say my piece.

The ending knit into every action you took aboard Talos I. If you took the 20 hours to put yourself in every nook and cranny. If you heard the crew’s stories and met the survivors, then the final decision is incredibly difficult – perhaps not morally, but because of how many options there are. You will be marred by the memory of those dead and those that have braved the horrific massacre alongside you. The rising stakes and plot twists put on immense pressure as everyone seems to be pulling you in different directions. No matter what, there is no “winning”. Yet, you make your decision. It somehow makes morality a plot point. Which wasn’t necessary. The act of making decisions is part of the satisfaction of the genre. However, this makes the game even more clever!

It is this combination of pulling seemingly disconnected decisions throughout your time into *the* conspiracy that is a stroke of brilliance. It brings cosmic horror to the scariest outcome – the humanity of the monster and the monster of humanity. While the ending may feel abrupt – I think this stems from an ending that takes some processing – it brings everything back to true essence of humanity. For that reason, it will live on.

At the end of the day, I understand why so many don’t start or finish Prey. It has so many moments that make it hard to love. Moments that need a little push or a little direction to get you into its rhythm. Or, where there could be less. Fewer abilities that you can build deeper strategies around. I desperately want to recommend this to any and everyone, but I shutter to say “It really opens up about 10 hours in” or “have you tried [insert fun emergent mechanic]?” I struggled through parts of this game and *still* feel like I didn’t play it the *right* way. I know if I scroll through Reddit or YouTube, I will see all of these clever solutions and incredible builds – all things I never thought of because I too scared or made a wrong decision two hours earlier. All of which are now spoiled to me so I won’t feel the magic of finding them myself.

As for me, I’m pretty damn glad I finally played Prey.

Other things that didn’t make sense up there:
Difficulty. To me, Prey offers many options to find the best fit for you. This includes highest difficulty with all survival modifiers or playing on Story Mode. I am easily frigthened, so I could only play Prey for an hour or two at a time and often had my shoulders to my ears in fear or anxiety. It was brilliant! I loved every second of the most frightening moments. While the Typhon aren’t scary, the atmosphere and jump scares keep you paranoid and tense. The developers have done a brilliant job. For me, I care about finishing all of the side-quests and my emotions are so heightened that ramping up the enemy difficulty degrades my experience. However, if you *aren’t* afraid, I would recommend turning up the difficulty and adding modifiers so that you are *forced* to embrace the game mechanics. For better or worse, once you get kitted out, the game can feel too easy. You will rely more on combat and less on planning out your encounters, the latter which usually feels more satisfying. You don’t want this game to feel like a corridor shooter – it really should never feel this way. Forcing yourself to slide into some stealth shoes or role-play an engineer is a fantastic way to stretch the in-game systems.