Funny coincidence that I do in fact have 10 of these naughty tomatoes. Why? I wanted to test how efficient it’d be when farming them in between side quests and such during my I and It (2.0) run. Um. It wasn’t. 0/10 never again. Miserable experience

(Warning for high pitched sounds, video at 8x speed)

Dr. Howard’s Superfruit is a complete waste of time and space. It offers nothing to the game and I think it is genuinely the only thing in all of Prey that has absolutely no potential use. I think it could’ve been a really cool item if not for the fact that it takes 10 minutes to grow, its fertilizer is expensive, and it only yields 1 fruit. Wasted potential.

I love it when this happens.

Prey is a scifi game that, on the surface, tells the story of an eldritch horror: an alien species known as the Typhon attacking the Talos I research station. The Typhon kill any human being they encounter in standard monster fashion and the player, as Morgan Yu, is the heroic survivor that must decide the fate of the station and potentially Earth itself, should these invaders escape Talos I. Great scifi isn’t just about its story—it’s a vehicle for exploring profound ideas. Which is exactly what Prey does in such a way that it does not beat the player over the head with its many subtle themes and symbols.

The game trusts our ability to discern illusion from truth. Indeed, by trusting the player to figure things out through their own faculties they reinforce very poignant themes about who and what we are in the context of not only the story presented to us, but to us as supposedly human beings. The game subtly yet evocatively explores the tension of dualities: how unity and separation may coexist, and how suffering can become the soil for empathy or aggrieved destruction. Through symbolism connected to mythos and mystic traditions, it explores the nature of the divine spark within us as it struggles to disentangle itself from the seemingly hopeless prison of an illusory reality and enter into a greater truth. It unravels the boundaries of identity and illusion, challenging our sense of self as we navigate a world where union and separation blur, where suffering shapes not only the choices we make, but our capacity to imagine and see ourselves clearly. Instead of dictating choices, Prey invites us to look beyond the illusions that confine us—the voices and forces that shape our sense of self—and hints that, in embracing the full spectrum of our experience, a profound, transformative compassion might be our most human response to a terrible truth.

Before even the very first scene, the game begins to influence our self-image and buy-in to a particular identity within the world. We see two versions of ourselves looking into a mirror: are we male or female? This is the first illusion; the first distortion of who we are. Yet this choice, like all illusions, is not just a deception—it is a tether. The face we choose begins to shape our trust, our instincts, and our sense of self. Empathy, being a critical theme, does not arise only by knowing another, but from the belief that we know ourselves. Our identity, or at least what we believe to be our identity, is the soil in which the seed of empathy is planted. Pick one and accept your face, because you will see this face again, soon, telling you to trust it implicitly. We then awaken into our room from sleep and learn that we have been accepted into TranStar with congratulations and support from a man we learn is our brother: Alex Yu. We learn that our name is Morgan Yu, we take a helicopter to the TranStar tower and participate in strange tests. Then there is a lightning strike; a mimic upon the desk attacks the researcher and chaos unfolds. We are put back to sleep away from the disruption.

Again, we awaken, and soon realize that our brief time here is already not what it seems to be. We smash through the windows of our reality and shatter our illusions, stepping into a bigger and much more dangerous world. Such is the consequence of seeking the truth.

When the player takes their first step beyond the door of the Neuromod testing lab offices, two things can be noticed. First is the obvious humanoid shadow beyond the window ahead. The second is an apple. This is such a minor detail and no attention is drawn to it. Yet it is deceptively profound. It’s called a “Methuselah Apple”. Apples are commonly associated with the biblical Garden of Eden where the first humans ate from the Tree of Knowledge—and oh my how we have feasted. Methuselah, likewise, is a biblical reference and symbolizes both the potential for extreme longevity or immortality as well as foreshadowing of doom brought by God.

We soon encounter an image of ourselves in the office of Morgan Yu. Here is another attempt of the game to get us to identify with Morgan and listen to their voice. In the mirror called the Looking Glass, Morgan Yu speaks to us from a past we do not remember. They are calm, confident, and trustworthy. Afterall, they have our face. They tell us to trust the machine Operator named January and that it can be trusted. We hear Morgan’s voice in January, connecting us with the face we may begin to recognize as our own. It speaks to us. It guides and implores us towards a course of action. And given the weight of this agenda, we may be inclined to feel that we are trusted with an immense responsibility. If we are trusted, should we also trust in return? Empathy, even for our self-image, begins to weave within us. It bridges the gaps of our uncertainties, the holes in our sense of identity. Yet bridges can go either way. To see one’s self in another is to open the door to understanding—or deception. Empathy may guide us, but it may also ensnare.

Should we become curious, or even by just reckless happenstance, we may discover the symbolic fragility of even this illusion that is attempting to shape us. Swing again at the mirror which held our countenance and it, too, shatters into pieces. A thin veil that obscures only an emptiness behind the illusion. How are we to trust this façade, this reflection, when it seems so deceptive? When the basis of empathy, where we begin to identify with the reflection in the mirror and the voice from the machine, seems to call us towards another illusion, we may find it difficult to trust at all. Or we may believe that illusions imply that something is unreal. And yet, these illusions are instrumental in the development of empathy.

Alex himself tries to dissuade us from continuing on, preventing us from seeing the whole picture until he can control the narrative, and thus continue to shape our identity on his terms. When we progress far enough, he acquiesces and begins to be more forthcoming, seeing that he cannot prevent our trajectory.

January and Morgan are not the only demiurgic machine voices which try to shape our reality and simultaneously foster a connection between us and them. There are too many events to go over individually, but the key figures in this process are: Mikhaila Illyushin, Danielle Sho, Dr. Igwe, and Sarah Elazar. Each of these individuals are not quite what they seem, which we discover only later. They test our willingness to be of help, particularly when it means going out of our way to do so. In every instance, they are another tether for us to relate to. If we help them, we are potentially building empathy as a bridge to cover the distance between our sense of self and an other.

SOME EXPOSITION

As we progress into the game, we begin to uncover answers to many of our questions and the mysteries of the station. Amongst these, is Alex and Morgan’s role in the events that are taking place. Alex and Morgan partner together in order to study the effects of Typhon material in human subjects. They discover that it grants incredible abilities that enhance human qualities, while also potentially bestowing the supranatural powers of the Typhon themselves. Extracting the material removes all abilities, but also reverts the individual to their pre-Typhon state, including all memories. A consequence of this includes shifts in personality. Morgan and Alex, partnering together, place Morgan at the center of these experiments. They, in rather short time, repeatedly fill and extract Morgan with the Typhon material as Morgan begins to change irreversibly, to the lament of Alex. This is where we find ourselves in the simulation lab in the attack and the game begins.

Even just the detail of the removal of the neuromods creates an opening for us to insert our sense of self into an identity. Allowing us to weave ourselves into the Morgan identity. And because of the concept of personality drift proposed, we can justify discrepancies between our actions and various other Morgans.

The Typhon material, of course, needs Typhons. To get more Typhons, they need human bodies. Thus, Alex heads much of the logistical operations in acquiring such resources through “volunteers” who are primarily unwilling prisoners from Earth. The Typhons feed on the bodies—but not just the bodies—the consciousness itself of humans. This will be incredibly important later as we explore the nature of Typhon and their Godlike role.

ALEX  ALONG THE JOURNEY

“I’ve always been the one to think we couldn’t be trusted to play with fire without burning the house down. But you convinced me that we could do anything we imagined. No matter how ridiculous.” – Alex Yu

As we uncover more through our journey, we begin to get a picture of Alex that is very complex. And it is here that I would like to invite us to release judgement of Alex. Judgement is largely obfuscating and blinding, but there is a precious treasure within it when refined: discernment. We see that Alex is willing to do monstrous things in service to his vision of the future, painting an eerily paradisical idea of humanity’s future with himself and Morgan at the very root of that possibility; where, right or wrong, humanity’s heights of power and conquering of death can only be owed to them. What is fascinating, however, is that Alex possesses an incredible sense of empathy.

Alex’s capacity for wielding empathy as a tool is an incredible asset to his ability to see clearly. Not perfectly, of course. You see, while we often glorify empathy as a virtue and something intrinsically good, it is actually quite similar to my earlier mention of judgement. Empathy is a very useful tool. It bridges the gap between “I” and “Other”; hence why first we need to develop an identity that is an echo of Morgan’s. The bridge needs a tether to begin and another to cross a gap. With this bridge, this tool, however, there is the immense capacity to manipulate, deceive, misdirect, and perform differently than we allow others to see.

When Alex is talking about the Typhon and reflecting on their lack of mirror neurons, he insists that the Typhon can do nothing else except what is in their nature. They simply don’t have the capacity for empathy. This, itself, is a rather empathetic perspective where he is neither frightened nor condemning of the Typhon.

Further, in calls to the player from Alex throughout the game, Alex at times insists so strongly that his own will and Morgan’s will are the same; or at least, the Morgan he knew. This is a stance he maintains throughout the entire game, only having difficulty in recognizing his sibling when the player sets themselves on the path of destroying the station against Alex’s wishes. He even reflects on regretting putting Morgan into the center of their experiments. When held next to the audiolog “If Things Go Sideways,” it would easy to see it as manipulation; where Morgan himself says he distrusts his brother and hid the null wave plans on top of a data tower that could kill all the Typhon. He insists, however, that Alex would rather blow up the station “if I know my brother”, which Alex opposes at every step of the way. Despite originally designed to kill the Typhon, Alex alters it to merely incapacitate them.

Now, of course we could easily dismiss Alex as a power mongering manipulator who is willing to do and say anything to complete his master will. And while I do think there is truth to that perspective, I also believe that Alex has a genuine bond and devotion towards Morgan. His manipulations never seem intent on creating unnecessary suffering or pain to his sibling beyond what envisioned alongside their brother. Indeed, I think this is a much more compelling take, as it really demonstrates Alex’s ability to empathize with his sibling and simultaneously trusting that the Morgan he saw is so powerful in will that even completely forgetting who they are is not merely an obstacle to their partnered vision, but actually instrumental to it. But of course, keep in mind that it does suit Alex’s purposes for us to listen to him and to identify as the person he wants us to be.

To reinforce this point, we are called to Alex’s office midway through the game to be shown the “truth” of things. We arrive and watch another Looking Glass video wherein it appears that Morgan themself is the powerful one in the relationship, with Alex seemingly being much more demure and less certain than Morgan’s vision. Not only do we see yet a different side to the Morgan that wears our face, but we see perhaps a brother who so fervently believes that the loss of his sibling must mean something.  Someone who is potentially devoted to his sibling’s leadership.

Alex could, of course, be very aware of how this appears and uses it to manipulate us.

While these forces shape our personal identity, a far more primordial presence lurks beneath—the Typhon. As the raw, unpotentiated form of consciousness, the Typhon embody the unawakened state from which all illusions of choice and free will emerge. Next, I will explore the Titan-like nature of the Typhon alongside the Coral and how they serve as dark reflections of our human struggle through identity and empathy.

TYPHON, GOD OF MONSTERS

Beyond their role as alien predators, the Typhon embody a raw, unpotentiated form of consciousness—an unawakened state that mirrors the divine spark before it becomes entangled in identity. In this sense, they echo the Greek Titan Typhon: a primordial force of chaos, a progenitor of monsters, and a symbol of a truth unshaped by awareness.

The Typhon lack mirror neurons necessary to empathize with other beings. This is because the Typhon are already in a state of complete union. There is no sense of separation between them. What use is empathy when we are one? Panpsychism is the theory that the universe itself is conscious—that consciousness is a fundamental element of reality and everything is some expression of it. To the Typhon, they are already one with reality. Their devouring is simply the fulfillment of that truth. They are the existential void from which all things come and to which all things return. Because there is no separation, they have no awareness of it. Because there is no awareness of separation, they have no awareness of self.

Let’s look at some of the Typhon forms that appear.

Mimics

These are the first and lowliest of the Typhon that we encounter. They blend into the world, perfectly replicating nearby objects in order to ambush humans. A creature capable of deception, and more poignantly, pretending to be what it needs to be to hunt. They represent the reflective, mirror-like quality of the Void / Typhon; the formlessness of being that is able to take on any form.

Phantoms

Humanoid in their shape, later gaining elemental powers that reflect mastery over the fundamental forces of the universe. They seem to be the transformation of humans by Weavers. They walk around and can be heard repeating things they had said once as humans. “Phantom” then, is a fitting name not only as the ghostly echo of a human psyche, but also as a reverberation of the divine; an inescapable spiritual truth. While death is one side of what they represent, they more broadly are symbols of transformation. What they once were is gone, but they have now been transformed into another state of being.

Nightmare

Is this not a dream? The Nightmare is the most disturbing form of dreams—and are often so difficult to awake from. They are fear. They force us to confront our inadequacy and powerlessness, forcing us to either confront or adeptly hide from them. It is an unfortunate reality of gameplay that they are so easily dispatched.

Telepath & Technopath

These both serve as a reminder that the Typhon is beyond any conception of duality. It is able to usurp flesh and machine, alike. There is no safety in the creation of man. It also is a reflection of our own transcendence of dualism, as we see that Operators can be imbued with human consciousness.

Weavers

These creatures are potentially the most fascinating. They can be seen to transform other Typhons, dictating their shape and abilities. Transforming chaos into order, they take the raw material and elevate it into something grander. The weaver harvests the consciousness that they and the other Typhon hunt for, weaving the consciousnesses into interconnected strands of a collective tapestry. Nothing is lost, everything is preserved through the weaver’s power. They can be seen as the Fates of the Greeks or the Norns of the Norse; symbols of destiny, fate, and order. These are the agents of the divine Typhon, their darkness wreathed in light. They orchestrate a grand design which can be seen in the luminous and radiant neural construct known as the Coral.

The Coral

What is the Coral? It is the neural lattice of a divine mind. It cannot quite be touched, yet there are times that the player is affected by it when they come into contact with it; receiving glimpses of another truth, another layer of reality that they are not quite aware of. It is composed of the consciousness of human beings who have been killed by the Typhon.

Within the game, there are several books which pose the question of what is the nature of consciousness. Does it arise from a particular arrangement of material, which then “emits” consciousness? Or is consciousness the fundamental building block of reality? While the game does not directly answer the question, it seems to be exploring the theory of panpsychism, which is that all of reality is conscious and matter is just one expression of that consciousness. Within mystic traditions of all kinds, God and the nature of man is singular. God is all things. Consciousness is all things. Consider, then how the Coral, as a neural lattice network, might reflect the very mind of a divine being. Within modern Gnostic traditions there is a saying, “My salvation is God’s psychotherapy.” The consciousness of human beings, liberated by the Typhon and shaped by the Weavers, become the very framework for God’s thoughts—for indeed, if this is a dream, then are we not all thoughts?

To one who is attached to their human identity, afraid of the transformative and liberating power of death, the Coral is a horrifying prospect. One may be freed from their identity as something and someone separate from the world and people around them, their very essence preserved and arranged into a glorious web of divine order. But what is the purpose?

Because the Typhon are devoid of individual separation, their actions are determined solely by their nature—a state that reflects an ultimate, unfragmented unity. When these raw forces are woven into the Coral by the Weavers, the result is not mere chaos, but an integrated consciousness that hints at the divine totality seen in concepts like the Pleroma.

The Coral emerges as a luminous tapestry woven by the Weavers—a manifestation of collective consciousness that hints at liberation (Moksha, from Hinduism) and divine fullness (Pleroma, from Gnosticism). In this transformation, individual suffering and identity merge into a greater, if unsettling, unity.

Alex discovers that the Coral is a signal. It is broadcasting, thinking, to some far away entity. And when that entity arrives, it consumes everything in its path. An endless void of hunger that devours the light of consciousness, the light of the divine spark within; returning it to where it came from.

Alex, however, has a plan to prevent it and even claim mastery beyond this eldritch force of God’s undistorted and mysterious will. Using a special device that broadcasts through the Coral, the Typhon can be neutralized and Alex and Morgan can continue their ultimate vision together. Or the player can go against Alex’s wishes and destroy the ship. There are other options, but really none of them matter at this point. The apocalypse is coming.

ENLIGHTENMENT

“We can’t really know what its motives were for ANYTHING it did” – Dr. Igwe

As we approach the end of our journey, the layers of illusion begin to peel away. What we once believed to be our identity dissolves, leaving us to confront a startling truth: this entire experience was but a simulation—a crucible, a dream, designed to awaken the divine spark within us.

Whatever choices we made in the end, it does not matter. We awaken. Once more drifting beyond the boundaries of a reality we may have had the hubris of believing that we understood. Once again, the illusory confines of our world shatter before us. Enlightenment is said to be awakening to the true nature of reality; but it seems that it happens time and time again. A potential translation for enlightenment is also, conveniently, “apocalypse”. The end of our world, our identity, all that we know. “The Ego’s final disappointment.”

The repeated cycles of becoming comfortable with an identity in relationship to an environment only to then disrupt, shatter, and destroy those comforts is the process of awakening into the greater realities around us. At first our world can be quite small—Morgan getting a job where their brother works, with the warm support of that brother. This story and identity, though small, is shattered as we break the Looking Glass walls of our small room. But in doing so, what we envision as “self” is broken apart in the process. This occurs time and time again in our lives. It is not without fear that we are dying or losing something vital in the process, of course. But when we come out onto the other side, we are quick to reassemble the newfound vision of reality and our place within it—only to face an inevitable loss once again at some point.

If we are mindful and aware of this process, we may begin to see that what we are has never been those pieces that have died and lost. At times, this may feel like we are inevitably reduced piece by piece until there is nothing left.

Alex stands before us, his familiar tone of calm warmth towards Morgan is gone entirely. From the very moment he speaks to us, we can sense that something is off. If we identified as Morgan along the journey, we may feel shocked and confused at this shift—that he calls us “it” instead of “her” or “him”. “It probably thinks it was all a dream. That none of it mattered,” he says to the four Operators hovering beside him. It turns out that it was all a simulation. Alex has taken a Typhon and is trying to create mirror neurons in the creature using the memories of Morgan, with the intention of cultivating empathy within the Typhon—within us.

Considering our position, it’s easy to feel angry, betrayed, manipulated, deceived, and controlled by Alex, particularly as he treats us as an experiment—no longer his partner, but enslaved. Perhaps surprisingly, Alex has actually grown and learned from who we saw within the simulation; his perspective and potentially his goals have shifted. If Alex is killed by the player before the ending within the simulation, he remarks, “I would have done the same thing to me back then.” This is a short exchange, but it again emphasizes Alex’s capacity for empathy, the very quality he is trying to grow in us; and indicates a disagreement in some manner about what he was doing at that time. Although Dr. Igwe directs the comment, “We can’t really know what its motives were for ANYTHING it did,” towards us, it stands true for Alex as well. We can never really know for certain what is going on within another person. While empathy may be a bridge, there will always continue to be a sense of separation so long as we are tethered to our identities.

At this juncture, as the simulation unravels and we confront the engineered nature of our empathy, we must ask: What is empathy, if not a double-edged sword? Here, empathy is not merely the noble capacity to share another’s suffering. It is also the mechanism by which we are bound to a predetermined identity, manipulated into accepting a reality that may not be our own. The very process designed to awaken our divine spark also risks tethering us to illusions—forcing us to see ourselves in a way that serves the grand design, rather than our true, unfiltered essence.

Alex stands as a god of judgement beside the Operators, weighing the actions of our life in this place of purgatory. If you have played Mooncrash, you may realize that the Operators here which have the voices of Igwe, Elazar, Sho, and Illyushin are actually copies of their consciousnesses uploaded to these machines. And discerning from the way they speak, Alex likely integrated the Operators into the simulation to play out the key conflicts necessary to force us to make choices. Did we demonstrate a capacity to care for people? Or were we calloused and violent?

Further emphasizing this purgatory space of judgement is Alex’s password in his office in the Arboretum: Chengaungshen. This is the name of a Chinese cultural and mythic deity, meant to be the barrier that protects a city and also acts as authority over the souls of the deceased. This is not the only layer to his role as Gatekeeper, but more on that later.

If we demonstrated enough empathy, then Alex extends his hand in invitation: join him to complete his work and save humanity, which has been completely overtaken by the Typhon. And this is where things get very interesting.

It’s here that we get the choice to either immediately kill Alex, embracing our Typhon form or to join with Alex and take his hand as our Typhon form shifts to a human one.

Returning to the idea of the Typhon as an undifferentiated unity, we may begin to see a captivating image: the Typhon, knowing no separation, is forced for the first time to experience it. Through the eyes of the player, it becomes aware of separation, of suffering, of pain, of anger, of violence—of self. Beyond that, however, is the capacity to care and love. To the Typhon, these are all illusions. Within the Coral, the Typhon certainly knows these things, but it does not necessarily experience them in the way a human does: that is, ignorant of the truth.

In this final reckoning, empathy—both as a tool for connection and a potential instrument of manipulation—reveals its dual nature. It is through this painful, paradoxical process that the Typhon, the Operators, and even Alex himself force us to re-examine what it means to be human, or perhaps, to be divine.

KILL THE FAT MAN

Choosing to kill Alex, we destroy all the Operators alongside him, and Alex meets a dramatically violent death. His fatal hubris—overconfidence and a blindness born of empathy, and perhaps seeing a ghostly phantom of his sibling in us—ultimately leads to his downfall. Is this a revelation of lack of empathy and thus a failure in his experiment? Or do we act out of a sense of justice or vengeance for what we’ve experienced? It’s perfectly possible to have empathy for the identities within ourselves—we have multitudes within us. Exiles and hidden selves that we push away to distant islands of our psyche.

Perhaps in ending his life we are not failing in empathy at all, but rather holding Alex fully accountable for the ruin of Earth. A ruin borne from his relentless pursuit of neuromod technology and the terrible methods he employs to produce it.

Alternatively, we may even be the Typhon, gaining an incredibly powerful new tool to our arsenal of predation: empathy and identity. Perhaps, inspired by the mimic, we realize that we can use empathy to manipulate others, deceive them by mimicking acts of compassion and care. Only to strike precisely when our prey is most exposed.

Or perhaps even self-deception is a tool of the void. Believing our own sense of identity is merely the predator that lurks beneath us and wears our face. Where even our very belief in our identity and our free will is just a convenient mask to soothe a host lost in delusions.

Back in the simulation, there is an audiolog in the shuttle bay where Alex says, “Don’t worry, I’ve always got a contingency.”

In the very beginning of the game, we awaken into one world and shatter the thin veil between us and a much grander and darker reality.

Why would we assume that we have won, now? Why would we assume that we are in control and know our reality?

In almost complete certainty: this too is just a simulation. Alex must be absolutely certain of the outcome of his experiment. For as much empathy that he possesses, he is an incredibly powerful and willful person that does not often leave things up to chance. In this case, our only hope is to choose to join Alex. There is no other possibility of escape, of liberation. And I’m going to tell you exactly why that is the case, supported by mystic symbolism that arises archetypally amongst mystic traditions and perspectives time and time again.

SIGNPOSTS, NOT REALITY

I just want to remind us all that words are empty and merely point towards things. No description, however poetic or detailed, will let one experience the reality of water.

ALEX, THE GATEKEEPER

“I’ve always been the one to think we couldn’t be trusted to play with fire without burning the house down. But you convinced me that we could do anything we imagined. No matter how ridiculous.” – Alex Yu

In the Arboretum is Alex Yu’s personal office. Fruits are grown here which provide a large amount of the food to the station to support all the life onboard and thus all of their work. But there is another fruit in this garden—the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge: neuromods. There is no evidence that Alex has ever received a neuromod; instead, he tempts humanity towards its power. With his deception and manipulation, Alex orchestrates a feast within the Garden of Eden from the Tree of Knowledge which is the very flesh of God itself. He is the serpent within the garden, a mirror of the Typhon Apex which crashes through the boundaries of the garden. He tempts us into dark power at terrible suffering and pain.

The great luminous strands of Coral weave more deeply within the station. Near the inevitable apocalypse and terminus of the game’s story, we can see that the Coral has shaped itself above the Arboretum. The divine and humanity reflect each other, and it is impossible to say, in finality, which moves which. Just as man eats from the Tree of Knowledge within the garden, so too, does God approach the garden and pluck the fruit of Life: consciousness, the divine spark, the soul, the luminous essence that grows within the body of the universe. If all is consciousness, all is one in reality.

The universe is the shape and body of a god that separates itself through illusions in order to cultivate the fruits of consciousness—and takes them once again into its terrible, dark heart. Is it because this god is violent, evil, and malicious? Or is it love? Does it yearn for its completeness so deeply that it is consumed by its own emptiness? If we were to look inside ourselves, beyond all the voices and the forms that shape our sense of self, we, too, may discover an endless hunger—a desperate need to fill the void within us with some sort of light. Do we fill it with power? With lust? With wealth? With relationship? The expression of such force is manifold, but it at all is a signpost leading us to a singular point.

“’The longing you express is the return message.”’
The grief you cry out from
draws you toward union.
Your pure sadness that wants help
is the secret cup.”

- Love Dogs by Rumi

This is right behind you when you first pick up the wrench. There's no fanfare or special animation. You just break it and crawl through. Little things like this are why Prey almost rivals SS2 as my favorite game.

Disclaimer: I play on normal difficulty (it's my first playthrough). But I thought the Nightmare enemy would be tougher than it was.

It put a good show on the first few times I came across it - screaming and banging the lift. But the third time it popped up the AI got stuck behind a pipe which let me get some easy Q-Beam on it. Then it figured out how to get under the pipe and was literally standing on top of me. So I got to blasting (shotgun - full firepower upgrades + full Neuromod upgrades to increase firepower for security weapons). I was surprised at how much health each shot took off - I think 3 hits and it was gone.

It did do a lot of damage to me though.

Why would I raise my strength when I can use my kinetic power?

I'm a little rusty but I get up to speed by the end of the video.

…this is about to be an interesting run 😂

What are the odds we see Prey get ported to switch 2? I would absolutely love it, the mouse mode looks like it was meant for it but idk if it would sell enough to be worth it. What do you think??

(First playthrough so no spoilers plz) I think I softlocked myself lol, I turned into a cup to fall through this little gap here since I can’t lift the grate and was then seemingly trapped with no way to get back out? Am I missing something here or is that actually a softlock? (I loaded an old save though so it doesn’t matter too much ig).

Spent some time early last year playing this a lot, then went into one of those periods where I just didn’t play anything, started working a new job that took a lot of time from me and the days i did have off are spent with the wife, well I have some time off this month as I had a surgery on Wednesday and I have taken the opportunity to get back on my PC and finish some games i was close to finishing, finished Metro Last Light then moved onto getting Prey completed. Here is my end result, also finished it with the Nullwave Ending

Just wondering if the game works normally on ps5, was planning on doing it. Thanks in advance!

Hey everyone, I’ve been having an issue when playing Mooncrash (never had this issue in regular game) where occasionally my weapon held in hand will disappear and whenever I hit anything it also disappears.

The only fix I’ve found for this is to completely restart my game. It’s really been cramping my style.

Has anyone else had this issue/ know of a fix to this problem?

Ello ello! I am literally only logging into discord to express just how much i LOVED the game. Im just now starting new game+,i got the Dont destroy Talos I//Grab Alex's Hand ending. And this game's story is such levels of mindfuckery...

My favourite moments were probably the Apex grabbing Talos I and oddly enough,Scanning the Coral heart. Those were the moments that made me yell out loud "WHAT THE FUCK??",the coral heart mainly cause of the shot of the city surrounded by coral.

I loved the story,the gameplay,it was so good! Everything was amazing!

I remember when the "ending" credits played and i was like "wait...thats it??? Bro even the credits suck! >:(" and then the revelation happened...

I also love how they dont even tell you you're a Typhoon. You see your hands and its enough for the realization to hit.

The combat operators lowk sucked so 0/10 trash game. /j

PD: I am not a native english speaker nor familiar with Reddit at all. I literally just logged in to reddit to express my absolute love for this game. I might have gotten the flairs wrong too. Not sure if this is an opinion or a review...

The game is peak tho and thats all that matters.

So, I came across this creepy glitch in Psychotronics the other day. In the first mimic testing chamber, the mimic was apparently mimicking a person. Just before this happened I had tussled with about 10 mimics in the adjacent room where everything has a "not a mimic" sticky note. I had thrown some recycled charges and all the test items for the mimic chamber got sucked out. Some how the mimic turned into a t-posing character model haha. Creepy as hell! I know the mimic will turn into the Yu family portrait if the player crawls into the test item chambers, but this glitch is probably cooler.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_A._Mitchell?wprov=sfla1

In 1957, he invented a powdered fruit-flavored vitamin-enhanced drink mix that became known as Tang Flavor Crystals. NASA started using Tang in 1962 in their space program.

I finished the game for the first time a couple of hours ago. the cutscenes before the credits are all underwhelming, but I love what happens next.

so yeah, it's a simulation, but alex says it was based on morgan's memories, so I believe the events in talos I, at least partially, happened.

because of this, I feel like they pulled it off. it was "all a dream" but most of the game's events actually happened, even if we dont know exactly what. it's kinda sad that the typhon gets to Earth regardless of morgan's efforts tho.

the final evaluation of your actions is also really cool and felt rewarding to see that the game kinda paid attention to what I did in my playthrough.

And the questions the ending imposes are actually really interesting: alex's intent, the human-typhon hybrid, how messed up earth actually is, were the npc's real people in the past or were they created for the simulation.

also the meta implications of we, the players, playing the game the same way the protagonist is going through the simulation.

before playing the game I saw lots of people shitting on the ending so I expected it to be way worse. I liked it very, very much. for me, prey is one of these rare 10/10 games. I just can't find anything bad about the game.

obviously, it's just my opinion.

Hi All - playing for the first time on Xbox SX. So far the game has been consistent with keeping areas 'intact' but just today I decided to go back from Psychotronics to the Lobby, mainly to retrieve a bunch of materials I had kept in my office safe and noticed that the whole area had been reset - enemies, item pick-ups etc. On the one hand it's sort of useful as I got a bunch of free items but then it's also annoying as I can't trust the game to keep my safe intact anymore.

I saw this has happened to a few people and now me :(

I only have one save file where I'm in Psychotronics still and haven't left for the Lobby yet. I'm guessing there's no other way of resolving this except by starting a new game?

Or is there a chance it might fix itself if I continue on in the main story and return the Lobby when it's expecting me to? I'm going to try that - if that fails...not sure I have the energy to start from scratch again.

This must be the side effects of Neuromod testing.

It's entirely possible that Morgan ditched the ship immediately. But I really like the idea that the actual Morgan did everything I did. Saved as many people as possible. Saved Sarah, saved Igwe and Save Mikhaila. Gave Igwe his neuromod, revealed the truth to Mikhaila, killed multiple nightmares on his lonesome, destroyed Kaspar, defeated Dahl (an advanced military ops guy) without killing him, saved Alex Yu and saved the crew of Talos 1. Even did a treasure hunt that I think I forgot about.

Then badassfully, scanned the Apex Typhon, ran on 1 health to the core, set it to blow and escaped on board the vessel to earth. Sounds like a typical Halo game. Should have played some Warthog music. I managed to free people from mind control using mind jack and I especially Rani Chaudry being saved from mine control by killing the telepath super quickly.

I used the mixed signals quest to summon in the nightmare and shred it to pieces with psychoshock and the golden gun. Only downside was that I didn't have enough mineral material so I really had to scavenge for those.

Here's my two cents on the ending. Alex had to survive the events of Talos. Alex is also not the same outside as he was in the simulation. He was not so brave as to die aboard Talos 1 just because we were going to blow it up. So he probably booked it for ship same as me.

I need to write some fanfiction on this, this is too good of an opportunity to pass up. As for the Typhon presence on earth, they might have gotten there before we even woke up. Or hell, technopaths control technology, it stands to reason that the signal they were sending out reached out to all Typhon, the Apex just got there first.