It’s hard to imagine this place ever being considered “safe,” and all of these elements coalesce to form an immensely evocative mood.Īs you press on, you make your way through a winding queue of fences, all the while under the oppressive gaze of faceless armed guards. If you get close to a guard, you’re shoved away and told to keep your distance.
A hybrid mix of human and alien propaganda posters are slapped on every flat surface as a constant reminder that there’s no escape from the watchful eyes above.
Through a fence we can see an armed guard watching on as an alien creature does janitorial work. A security drone hovers overhead, and a sense of panic quickly hits as its spotlight shines on you for a moment before continuing on its path. It’s safer here.” The leader’s voice concludes his scripted message. This is just one of Half-Life 2’s countless small glimpses into a story that could undoubtedly be the center of its very own game. She is clearly waiting for a loved one who hasn’t arrived yet, and most likely never will. A concerned woman looks on through the fence, asking if you were the only ones on the train. You can overhear small slices of whispered conversation about the hopelessness of the whole situation. A cafeteria filled with lost souls pacing about in similar drab uniforms. You can guess which of those two categories your fellow citizens scattered about fall under.Ī masked Combine Soldier hassles a man and forces him to part with his luggage. “You have chosen, or been chosen, to relocate here,” the voice echoes across the platform. His voice is meant to be soothing and reassuring, but the scripted nature of his delivery and the words he focuses on are anything but. The drab gray tones of the train depot convey a sense of oppression, highlighting that there’s no room for freedom or expression in this world.Īn Orwellian video message from Wallace Breen, the Combine’s new puppet-ruler of Earth, plays on a loop. The ground is littered with newspapers, empty cans, and Chinese takeout boxes. Right off the bat, the train platform tells you so much about the world you’re inhabiting without needing to say a single word. Rise and shine,” are the first words you hear from the enigmatic G-Man before you awaken on a train pulling into the depot at City 17. The opening of Valve’s historic shooter expertly solidifies the game’s tone. It’s rare that a game is able to provide you with a clear and succinct teaching moment that also builds upon everything else surrounding it - which is exactly what 2004’s Half-Life 2 does with an atmospheric opening walk that culminates in a simple four-word command: “Pick up that can.” However, spending the opening hours of something like The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess doing mundane chores in order to learn how the designers want you to play the game doesn’t immediately immerse you into the world. So often their existence is necessary in order to teach the player the rules, mechanics, and systems of a game’s world, and their absence would cause a mess of frustration for a whole heap of players. Tutorials are a tricky thing in video games.