r/patientgamers • u/DanAgile • 2h ago
Patient Review Prey (2017) - Rejecting humanity
I'd recently talked about my experience with Alien Isolation, a game in which the environments and atmospheres are one of the most immersive and engrossing Sci-Fi worlds I'd ever had the good fortune to play. Thus, it'd only be fair to follow it up with yet another contender that features both an engaging environment and some impeccable design.
Not to mention, the mechanics and systems present in Prey align almost precisely with my ideal preferences: a compelling narrative, meaningful choices, satisfying gameplay, and solid player customization. I'd argue Prey is as close to perfection in a game as any could come, and so it's no wonder I'd decided to revisit what I'd consider the top of its (limited) class.
A lived-in world; a snapshot of humanity
It's strange: the station is very nearly abandoned, and yet it couldn't feel more alive. I have to think this is a result of wonderful writing and environmental design, but regardless it seems like no small feat.
For the abundance of hostilities and the lack of either hospitality or the comforts of human presence, it never really feels like you're alone. Part of this comes down to the writing.
Any person who's worked in some kind of corporate or professional atmosphere has likely seen what the in-world emails emulate. They feel so believable, especially when you see things like the foam-dart-based assassin game email, the tabletop RPG campaign, the whistle blowing and subsequent quashing, the gloo-based snowman, and so many others.
And that's without having mentioned the rather stellar voice acting to go along with the dialogue and voice diaries you find scattered throughout the station. It all feels so compelling and like lives truly lived. This being in complete contrast to the station's actual situation whereas you're like an archeologist uncovering the remains of an ancient civilization; a snapshot prior to its downfall.
Despite the sprawling expanse of the station, the only spaces that ever felt devoid of humanity were the GUTS and space itself. The former was designed with practicality in mind: what was essentially the station's veins distributing life to the remainder of the facility via air, power, and water. The latter needs no explanation as the there's little comfort offered by the vastness of space. It's no small wonder they managed to properly segregate that feeling of humanity and isolate it from the remainder of the station and it's truly a testament to cohesive direction.
Play your way: for better and worse
Prey is classified as an immersive sim, which is an incredibly niche genre that's often incorrectly assigned and features somewhat broad criteria it must meet in order to satisfy the label. An overly simplified definition would be a game that prioritizes player choice with an emphasis on progression that may or may not have been intended by developers through one of its many systems. Often what makes these games so unique is how many mechanics are often implemented relative to more streamlined titles where only the best execute it competently. More on this later.
When I'd first played Prey, I'd opted to embrace my human side: rescue everyone I could, only invest neuromods (the game's perk points) into human-based improvements, and rely on ballistic weapons and firearms. I'd had a great time then but did so with the caveat I'd return to the game with the intention to reject humanity in all forms and fashions. Fast forward to now, and that's what I've done.
What remains so striking to me is just how much variety the player has in approaching the multitude of situations and obstacles throughout the station. Obviously it's by design given the genre, but as I alluded to earlier, only the best do it this well.
Going the route of focusing on human enhancements and neuromods means a greater ability to interact with the station: hacking computers, repairing equipment, moving objects with sheer strength that block your path. In comparison to my recent playthrough, that utility seemed almost like easy mode at the detriment of combat effectiveness.
It did, however, force me to utilize more interesting methods to overcome certain situations. Recycler charges were an easy, albeit simple, cleaver where I'd have possibly preferred a scalpel. So instead of choosing the path of the butcher, I opted for one of the surgeon. I'd noticed that explosive canisters were riddled around the station (clearly OSHA has zero governance in space) and was curious to see if a well-placed and delicate application of demolition-based relocation would suffice. And much to my own delight, it would seem I'd discovered another avenue for progress.
I get it. It's a simple line of reasoning that doesn't seem that earth shattering, but often games aren't as interactive or as intuitive as we want them to be. So it is refreshing when the idea of real physics can be applied in-game.
Counter to that, the gloo gun was something I found to be disappointing in how rigid its interactivity was. I'd hoped that the expanding nodules expelled by the gloo gun into tight crevices would act as a kind of lever prying objects from their footholds. Instead it would either clip through the object or bounce and fall unceremoniously like a scoop of ice cream off its cone. The latter is about how the gloo gun left me feeling in the end, but that's an otherwise small issue.
What I really enjoyed, though, was often taking significantly more time exploring my surroundings as there are so many options to proceed: maintenance hatches, hidden notes, environmental clues. There were so many options I'd missed because I'd had my utilitarian bludgeon capable of lifting any object or hacking any computer, and it's actually a touch of a shame my first experience had been so streamlined by no one's fault but my own.
Exploration is king
I've come to discover in my many years as a gamer that exploration remains one of my most cherished elements in any game. This likely all stems from my younger years where I spent my time scouring the alien landscape of Morrowind and thus it's no wonder it became the spark in what kindles my fervor. And wouldn't you know, this game features it in spades.
Amongst all of the systems present, I'd argue the foundation and success for all of them stems from this cornerstone. Character advancement is tied to neuromods and resource gathering, meaning incremental improvements do not rely on experience gain from killing enemies or completing quests but instead require the player to rummage through the station.
The core narrative expects you to explore the station to some extent, but much of what brings the station its depth is tucked away into locked rooms or little offshoots that expose the cracks on what seems another flawed Utopia. Not that it ever presented in the same way Rapture from Bioshock did, but it certainly had a more refined air of altruistic scientific exploration than the employee undercurrents would have you realize.
On combat: encroaching tedium
Unfortunately, one of Prey's weakest aspects remains its combat. Not for a lack of execution or because it's poorly implemented. It controls well where your toolkit between weapons and powers provides a welcome array of variety. Instead, it has to do with the overall level of fatigue I felt by the end of both playthroughs. Keep in mind, neither was exceptionally long, clocking in at about the mid-20s. I don't think it unreasonable to expect a game's systems to stay engaging through the whole of a playthrough.
Its follows a sort of bell curve of enjoyment to me: you're severely underpowered relative to your enemies at the start which requires significantly more caution and planning. Tedious, sure, but not does not stay overly long or is exactly unwelcome as you find your footing in the game's honeymoon phase.
What the game does incredibly well is give Gothic/Risen levels of growth in character capability: you start as a piss poor representation of function steadily improving in overall effectiveness until naught can resist you. Enemies are not mere sponges that grow as you do; they are mortal, after all, and you are to be feared. That feels exceedingly rare as developers seem to dread removing the sole aspect of what can make a game challenging, even if artificially.
The issue is, for as powerful as you become, the threats do not relent. This leaves the player meandering towards the game's finale in this kind of purgatory where opposition is not challenging enough to be satisfying but not so simple as to be mindless. A flaw, sure, but not damning.
No, where I've elected to bare my dissatisfaction is in the fact it made the exploration more of a chore. I said it earlier: exploration is the best part. And the game expects you to revisit areas often, meaning you'll clear them at least once in the numerous times you'll return to them. However, this is largely irrelevant as the areas will change aesthetically to reflect the growing influence of the Typhon. With these visual changes will come a slew of newly spawned enemies making each subsequent visit feel like a greater punishment for simply wanting to unravel the station's many threads and secrets.
Mooncrash
I've prattled on about most of the game's major aspects already, but feel the Mooncrash DLC offers an experience unique enough to the base game that I need to touch on it a little bit before wrapping up.
Mooncrash is Prey's one and only DLC and is essentially a roguelite campaign set in a curated map amidst the TranStar lunar sibling site to Talos 1. While much of the gameplay remains static from the main campaign, the brand new location coupled with the genre shift and some mechanic tweaks give a decent amount of content to delve into.
Unchanged, and still ultimately king, remains the exploration. It's a joy to meander through the handful of new locations. The only downside is that the simulation you use to explore the lunar base comes with a time limit. I get why it's there, but that doesn't mean I enjoyed that aspect.
Still, there's plenty to discover between the different escape methods, playable characters, equipment, and lore that it's well worth your time and a welcome twist on the base game. On top of that, enemy health appears to be toned down, making the enemies far less obnoxious than I had previously harped on in the base game.
Final thoughts
It's both a shame and a boon we're unlikely to ever see a sequel to Prey given the game underperformed at release only to become a kind of cult/beloved classic in the following years. Still, that may not be a bad thing given the sheer budget that would go into a sequel given the current state of AAA budgeting. That'd require an asinine amount of sales to cover and would likely all but see Arkane dissolved. It'd be a massive blow to the industry as I consider Arkane one of the few studios who continues to deliver on their vision and by the company's roots.
I've been exceptionally fond of Arkane as far back as Arx Fatalis, and while not every entry in their catalog has yet found its way into my heart, Prey easily takes place at the throne.
I don't think it's unreasonable to find faults with Prey, but regardless of any nitpicks you may have, it's a wonderful game in a genre that's sorely underrepresented. If you've never taken the chance on Prey, I highly encourage you to give it a look as some piece of its identity is likely to be compelling to you.