Arkane Studios’ revival of the Prey franchise may not be the epic adventure we were once promised, but it’s a thrilling science fiction adventure in its own right — if you don’t fault its reliance on some well-worn tropes.
Prey is a hybrid first-person shooter and RPG in the tradition of titles like BioShock and Deus Ex. It takes place on a massive space station of the future, on an alternate timeline that saw JFK survive his assassination attempt and the nation made leaps in technology that we still have yet to master today. Progressive exploration is married to a dark science fiction that is heavy on the jump scares, via shadowy aliens who dash about the ruined complex, turning into desk lamps or computer equipment in order to ambush when you stray to-o close. But let’s start from the beginning, where Prey sets the stage.
When I woke in an ultra-luxe apartment of the future, something immediately felt “off.” There were dark streaks on the floor in the corner, but otherwise, everything was laid out with perfect care and attention. There was a sense of artificiality that plagued me from the moment the player character, Morgan Yu, rose from his bed, all the way through the private helicopter ride to his new workspace. And by the time the veil was violently ripped away, the dread had already begun to set in.
The first moment of Arkane’s Prey had just the right combination of platonic luxury and off-putting detail, and what followed was just the sort of mess that such a beginning suggests. But about a quarter of the way into the game, you’ll have already seen just about every trick the game has to offer. After that, your enjoyment depends a lot on how much you like recycling — both metaphoric and literal.
Prey’s tale of hubris and unethical experiments gone awry isn’t half so surprising as the game seems to think. Unknown parties lead you by the nose via commlink to objectives, drawing you toward their inevitable revelations. Along the way, voice recordings and diary entries are chock-full of reworded instances of “Huh. That’s weird. But the boss says Everything’s Fine!™”
That isn’t to say the writing, though predictable, is bad. This is a perfectly competent Space BioShock, and the characterization works well enough to fill out the world with mildly interesting expository breadcrumbs to keep you poking around.
But the heart of the game’s quality comes by way of its gameplay. Prey’s first person exploration and light puzzle-solving elements support a combination of moddable weapons and expanding skills that will be instantly familiar to anyone who has enjoyed Arkane’s previous efforts. The staples of first-person shooters are there, augmented by Deus Ex-style skills and crafting mechanics that are simple yet effective.
The game is also an unrepentant collect-a-thon, asking you to scavenge every one of its ruined corridors of everything from unused explosives to discarded paper and banana peels. This often leads to an inventory that is bursting at the seams with junk that you need to save for recycling, making you feel more janitor than hero. Scanning through your inventory for something useful among piles of literal trash breaks up decent pacing and tends to destroy the tension of the moment.
These odds and ends you can’t directly use, you can throw into a recycling machine to extract crafting components. From those, you can assemble weapons, ammunition, and even extra skill points by way of “neuromods.”
Neuromods are the heart of Prey, in the same way that “plasmids” were to Ken Levine’s subaquatic horror adventure BioShock. Morgan uses them to acquire skills and abilities that progress from the merely advanced to the outright superhuman. In the beginning, that means exceptional strength, or the ability to repair complex machinery. Later, you will be able to harness the abilities of the aliens themselves.
Prey is also adept at allowing different abilities to achieve objectives in different ways. While one person might roll between piled furniture in the form of a coffee mug, another might simply heft that machinery and toss it aside. Someone else might leap into the ventilation system above, crawling through a hatch.
There is always a way to do just about anything you can think of, and it’s in these moments that the game shines. There are no “wrong” decisions in the massive six-part skill tree. Everything is somehow viable, so you are free to choose whatever suits your play style — or, in my case, free to become paralyzed with indecision by the array. Regardless, Prey is a game that allows your to choose your adventure, moment by moment.
Gunplay is almost as interesting. The “GLOO” gun you receive early on is capable of turning any part of the station into a harrowing platformer by creating traversable outcroppings or paralyzing aliens under a barrage of instantly-hardening liquid adhesive. And while the shotgun is the most reliable — and least interesting — staple in your arsenal, it is far from the only choice available. Each weapon can have its stats enhanced, should you possess the requisite materials and skill to do so. Each is potentially viable from beginning to end, given the appropriate materials and attention.
Prey ameliorates much of its repeated backtracking by opening new avenues to progress, a la “Metroidvania” games. As your skills grow, and you become more comfortable with the environment, paths that seemed impossible instead become obvious. You will become a walking mass of neuromods, eventually capable of taking any number of paths to your victory. …Eventually.
All of these gameplay elements become progressively better with time, but in contrast to the story, their beginnings suffer. In the opening hours of the game, combat is a frustrating slog through a multitude of enemies leaping and dashing around, while you flail haphazardly with a wrench. Because they move so fast, and you cannot take more than a few swings before your arm muscles simply give out, it becomes a tedious exercise in beating things senseless between pauses to use the food and medical supplies in your inventory.
Some of that tedium is cushioned by creative use of the environment, but it remains an awkward beginning to a game that can feel fantastic once it — and the player — find their footing.
At the very least, Prey is a beautiful game. The environments are well thought out, with the sort of detailed verticality you might expect from the creators of genre-defining work like Dark Messiah of Might and Magic and Dishonored. For the most part, however, the setting is used less effectively. There is a considerable amount of time between being introduced to stealth mechanics and being able to use them in any practical manner. For much of the game, stealth means nothing more than getting the first shot off in combat before descending into yet another frantic encounter, guns (wrench?) blazing. For the most part, all of that clever architecture is just another way to stash collectible bits for the recycling stations.
But for all of its uneven pacing and mechanics, Prey can be utterly fantastic. Moments spent drifting around in space outside of the station look, feel, and sound great. Each area of the station is visually distinct, and exploring their nooks and crannies is a consistently enjoyable experience. The weapons, once you’ve chosen your favorites and tailored them to your liking, are a lot of fun to use. The story, predictable or not, is consistently well-told.
Prey is a solid but imperfect addition to Arkane’s library of quality titles. It is BioShock In Space, with a dab of Future Dishonored. Neither of those is necessarily a bad thing, even if that new-car smell has begun to fade. If you enjoy this particular blend of action, exploration, and environmental puzzle solving, Arkane’s Prey reboot makes for an easy recommendation.
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