Prey The Station Is the Star

Talos I is one connected world, not a row of levels, and it rewards remembering what you saw. A locked door is not a wall: hack it, find the code on a note, crawl through a vent, shoot the button through a window, or build your own way in. That last one is the GLOO cannon, which fires quick-hardening foam you can climb like stairs, use to smother fires or plug broken machinery. Hours later you may find the keycard to a room you already solved another way, which is its own quiet satisfaction. The station hides secrets everywhere, and curiosity is paid back constantly.

The Typhon infesting Talos I are a living ecology, and some of them hide in plain sight. Mimics can look like ordinary objects, so every chair and coffee mug on the station becomes a small decision. You learn to read the room: a sound in a quiet corridor, a shape that was not there before. Ammo is scarce and your character starts out fragile, so charging in like an action hero goes badly. Sneaking, improvising and picking your fights work better. The dread builds slowly, and the station's silence does half the scaring.