We start Metro 2033 with the world already underground, hiding from the radioactive ghouls above the surface; Fallout 3 begins with us in a vault, ‘safe’ from the nuclear apocalypse; BioShock plunges us beneath the water into an already-decaying dieselpunk city ravaged by marauders—so many dystopias rush headfirst into the action, but Half-Life took its time and made that downfall feel even more tragic.
May 16 is the day that the Black Mesa Facility went from a drab, stereotypical compound run by stuffy lab coats and administrators to a nightmarish haunted house of abominable aliens and meathead military grunts. The intro is a slow-moving tram ride, a glorified tech demo that, in retrospect, is a bit dull. At the time though, it was revolutionary - the FPS’ of that era had you booting up a level and getting into gunfights immediately, fending off demons after the first door.
RELATED: Does Nobody Else Remember The Half-Life Game Codename: Gordon?
Half-Life was grounding itself, making story as integral as gameplay, and the tech demo tram ride was in service of that. We got to see Black Mesa in action, watching the mundane normality of scientists knocking on broken vending machines, robots moving boxes through an automated assembly plant, and helicopters taking off in the muddy dunes of New Mexico’s desert. It all parallels the levels we’d later visit, seeing those same things in an entirely different light. The sandy dunes are now home to tentacle monsters, helicopter chase sequences, and headcrab nests.
After the ride, we walk through the facility itself - scientists are tired, miserable, and groaning, the Barney guards are busy, offering you a beer after work, and staying put, yawning at their post, while everyone
Read more on thegamer.com