This Game Might Be the Most Clever FPS Nobody Played

Most shooters want to impress you with loud moments and big set pieces, but that is usually where the thinking ends. You run, you shoot, and the game quietly guides you from one firefight to the next. Prey (2017) never really played by those rules, instead asking you to slow down and feel the suspenseful tension in every corner of the space station you’re trapped in. Even when you thought you were safe, something as simple as a coffee mug could betray you. It is the sort of game that whispers instead of shouts, but somehow feels more active than the loudest blockbuster FPS out there.

Prey really is one of the most clever shooters that practically slipped right through players’ fingers. Even its intro has this eerie sort of intelligence, pushing you to question what is real and what is part of the setup. You do not blast through those first minutes. You observe, you test, and you learn. Prey still feels so unusual, so daring, all these years later, and so much smarter than most shooters today. It might be quiet, but it deserves to be heard, loud and clear.

Prey Makes You Think in Ways Most Shooters Never Do

Prey does something many FPS games are scared to do. It asks you to stop relying on your trigger finger and actually think. Nothing on Talos I is handed to you, and the game seems almost proud of that. Every room you walk into has layers, puzzles, and/or opportunities that reward genuine curiosity. Instead of funneling you through predictable shootouts, Prey nudges you to experiment with the environment in ways no other shooter, to this day, dares ask of you. It almost apologizes for the genre as a whole, as if saying that shooters could be so much more if they trusted players to use their brains over their guns.

That becomes obvious in the game amazing intro. There is no bombastic tutorial or flashy cinematic to ease you in. Everything feels slightly off. The first impression doesn’t even reveal you’re on a space station, but instead, at home, somewhere sunny. It’s a well-crafted illusion that doesn’t get revealed until you poke at the oddities that seem to stick out. It scene feels wrong in a way you cannot quite name at first, and when the illusion shatters, you suddenly realize you’re actually on a massive space station, and that Prey has been teaching you without saying a word. It introduces itself like a mystery that slowly folds open, and it hooks you before you even know what you are caught in. Very few shooters can pull that off because very few even try.

Prey’s tools reinforce that cleverness. The GLOO Cannon is a perfect example, because it is not just a weapon, but a constant solution waiting for you to think of it. You can climb with it, block hazards with it, create makeshift platforms, or turn battles into slapstick chaos. Neuromods push things even further, letting you reshape how you solve problems altogether. Little by little, Talos I stops feeling like a level and starts feeling like a place where any idea you have might actually work. Not many shooters dare to give players that kind of freedom, but Prey practically encourages it.

Just When You Think You’ve Figured It Out, It Surprises You

Prey is full of these moments where you think you finally understand its rhythm, only for the game to quietly grin and pull the rug out from under you. Mimics are the easiest example. They hide in plain sight, turning everyday objects into threats. Over time, this creates a constant, almost playful tension. You stop trusting the ordinary, which is exactly what Prey wants. It thrives on making even the familiar feel suspicious.

The surprises go far beyond enemies. Prey rewards players who approach its world like a detective instead of a soldier. Locked areas are rarely actual dead ends. Side paths hide more and more side paths. A simple ventilation shaft might lead to an entire chain of discoveries if you are willing to crawl in and see where it goes. The game almost apologizes for how predictable most shooters are by comparison. It keeps reminding you that Talos I is full of secrets you will only uncover by poking at everything that looks even slightly out of place.

Even toward the end, when most games are winding down and saving their last big twist for the finale, Prey keeps peeling back, revealing new layers. It has this eerie confidence, as if it knows it still has something to show you. By the time everything finally clicks, you can look back and see how cleverly the entire experience was constructed. Prey does not surprise you for shock value (though it does have shock value at times). It surprises you because it respects your intelligence enough to keep challenging it.

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