Prey is really one of a game. Probably one of the greatest games ever made, yet its renown isn't at the level of its quality.

It's subtle yet brutal. It's crawling unto you yet you can't feel it. Its details make the whole, and the whole makes the details. There really aren't any experiences comparable to this game within the immersive sim genre--yes, even if the print of Dishonored is there, it's just because the product is from the same progenitor. The birthmark of Arkane is indeed there, the elements are there, the artistic direction is there, the extensive and carefully crafted lore is there, yet it's completely different. It is standing on its own, and rivals with the legacy of its older siblings.

How is it standing, then?

Prey is sci-fi that really understands what "sci" can mean. We're not necessarily speaking hard-sci-fi, we're speaking coherent universe. We're talking concepts with laws, we're talking an alien lifeform (a truly "alien" one) with its own ecology, we're talking a research station involving a lot of people--people that require needs, that all have interactions and relationships and personalities, that, even if you'll most likely encounter the remains of these people and what lies between life and death, what they left behind is still living, still there.

The story--which I'll not really discuss here--interwoves then greatly with all this constellation of side plots and enhances the living aspect of the setting, Talos I, with its plethora of alternative routes and pathways that logically exist within the setting. Yes, you do need maintenance tunnels, emergency exits, and everything needed to maintain such a structure. You are on a research station dedicated to metastasizing mankind's evolution into something new, after all. There are hence several areas that accommodate the needs of the people who live(d) there, the people who strive(d) for that goal--so you'll also see how these people develop(ed) the tools needed for the next step in mankind's betterment, and even use said tools.

This evolution came at a price, however.

However, even if overruled by the alien infestation, you happen to be the one pushing humanity back into its own rightful domain, you're the one using brain and tools and powers and muscles and the mix of it all to annihilate the eldritch horrors parasitizing the station.

Or are you? That will only depend on your choices.

Finally, this gem is a flickering stone. It shines brightly in a lot of aspects, and its rays happen to touch your synapses. And when they start to flash and fire and open up new cognitive channels, when you start dismantling the broken components the game gives you, when you recycle them, when you place the newly built shards together, and when you start looking at the glass you've just made, you see something the game was always hiding, yet always showed you. It might need several reboots, several cycles, but you'll see it, at some point.

Hence,
What does it look like? The shape in the glass.

10/10

[h1] What does it look like? The shape in the glass. [/h1] Prey is really one of a game. Probably one of the greatest games ever made, yet its renown isn't at the level of its quality. It's subtle yet brutal. It's crawling unto you yet you can't feel it. Its details make the whole, and the whole makes the details. There really aren't any experiences comparable to this game within the immersive sim genre--yes, even if the print of Dishonored is there, it's just because the product is from the same progenitor. The birthmark of Arkane is indeed there, the elements are there, the artistic direction is there, the extensive and carefully crafted lore is there, yet it's completely different. It is standing on its own, and rivals with the legacy of its older siblings. How is it standing, then? Prey is sci-fi that really understands what "sci" can mean. We're not necessarily speaking hard-sci-fi, we're speaking coherent universe. We're talking concepts with laws, we're talking an alien lifeform (a truly "alien" one) with its own ecology, we're talking a research station involving a lot of people--people that require needs, that all have interactions and relationships and personalities, that, even if you'll most likely encounter the remains of these people and what lies between life and death, what they left behind is still living, still there. The story--which I'll not really discuss here--interwoves then greatly with all this constellation of side plots and enhances the living aspect of the setting, Talos I, with its plethora of alternative routes and pathways that logically exist within the setting. Yes, you do need maintenance tunnels, emergency exits, and everything needed to maintain such a structure. You are on a research station dedicated to metastasizing mankind's evolution into something new, after all. There are hence several areas that accommodate the needs of the people who live(d) there, the people who strive(d) for that goal--so you'll also see how these people develop(ed) the tools needed for the next step in mankind's betterment, and even use said tools. This evolution came at a price, however. However, even if overruled by the alien infestation, you happen to be the one pushing humanity back into its own rightful domain, you're the one using brain and tools and powers and muscles and the mix of it all to annihilate the eldritch horrors parasitizing the station. Or are you? That will only depend on your choices. Finally, this gem is a flickering stone. It shines brightly in a lot of aspects, and its rays happen to touch your synapses. And when they start to flash and fire and open up new cognitive channels, when you start dismantling the broken components the game gives you, when you recycle them, when you place the newly built shards together, and when you start looking at the glass you've just made, you see something the game was always hiding, yet always showed you. It might need several reboots, several cycles, but you'll see it, at some point. Hence, [b] What does it look like? The shape in the glass. [/b] 10/10