If you’re good enough, you only need 240×160 pixels to scare players away. Metroid Fusion was released in November 2002 alongside the first Metroid Prime, marking Samus Aran’s long-awaited return to the 2D action-adventure genre. Aside from the flashy new visuals and gameplay improvements, though, there are some changes; Fusion is creepier than its predecessor.
Even Metroid Prime, which actually launched in North America the next day, failed to capture the same sense of dread (pun intended), despite presenting Samus’s previously untold misadventures in gorgeous 3D. Time has taught us many times that the true horror of video games comes from sharp stylistic choices and careful game design, and these are often difficult to pin down.
The story takes famous bounty hunter Samus Allan to the planet SR388, where she is attacked by a parasitic creature, simply called X. Her body was recovered and transferred to the Galactic Federation for treatment. They cured her with a vaccine made from Metroid cells; it gave her the ability to absorb X-nuclei and even gain new powers – but also allowed her to take on some of Metroid’s weaknesses. Meanwhile, the BioSpace Laboratory (BSL) station, where she was working on her damaged spacesuit, fell silent, so she left to investigate and save the day.
It’s a prologue with no gameplay at all, but it already sets the tone for an enticing horror adventure that doesn’t retread previous titles. First off, the Metroids are no longer at the center of the plot, even though they play key roles. Second, the saga fully embraces the “abandoned space station” premise that underpins many memorable sci-fi horror stories. Of course, this could lead to highly derivative plots, but Yoshio Sakamoto’s script is smart and uses its (very obvious) cinematic influences in just the right way.
The first thing that comes to mind is Aliens, a movie that has had an impact on the entire Metroid saga. From the surprise attack on Samus to the way the gameplay is handled, iconic horror classics have shaped Fusion’s spine from the start. Then we have some strands of DNA from The Blob (big scary alien slime!), the invisible horror that has plagued us in modern media for decades and dates back to the writings of HP Lovecraft.
But the most terrifying element of Metroid fusion, one that hits hard on a primal level, is a ruthless hunter who will stop at nothing to remove Samus from the equation. What’s more, Samus’ nemesis in this game is… herself. The X-parasite is smart (and scary) enough to rebuild and improve Samus’ body and abilities through her infected clothes. SA-X is The Thing meets Terminator, and it’s pretty scary. Think Nemesis from Resident Evil 3, but worse.
The game also introduces this superior threat very early on, and the master strike is how Samus doesn’t have to face it right away. A brief cutscene—a disconcerting zoom in on its lifeless face—was enough to shut our eyes shut back in 2002, and it still achieves the same effect today. You know SA-X is a bad business, and you know you’re not prepared. Even if you do well against other X-made monsters, the next few hours are low-key prayers that it doesn’t show up again.
Eventually, SA-X did appear. repeatedly. Creepy footsteps are the creepiest element of its early days, and the pressure comes from trying to hide fast with limited resources. As the game progresses, hide-and-seek turns into a fast but heart-pounding chase, all leading to a glorious final confrontation that feels deserved and empowering…while still being nerve-wracking.
Several area bosses and regular enemies are equally disturbing, for entirely different reasons. For example, look at the nightmarish horror pictured above (it’s just called Nightmare). By the time you come across it, Fast and Furious bosses are pretty common. Instead, Nightmare feels like a big curveball, as it just hovers around and uses fairly basic attacks, only made worse by its size and limited space to dodge it. The music for this particular fight also seems to be designed to keep the player away from the ugly fucking melting face, so a big part of the difficulty of this encounter is not losing focus.
Intricate sprites, a brilliant original score, and detailed sound effects make Metroid Fusion truly one of the iconic Game Boy Advance games. Its unique and refined brand of 2D horror couldn’t be incorporated on previous portable hardware. The overall presentation is detailed enough to convey the intent of the Nintendo R&D1 team on a literal level, while still leaving room for players to fill in the blanks, like a good horror novel.
Intricate sprites, a brilliant original score, and detailed sound effects make Metroid Fusion truly one of the iconic Game Boy Advance games. Its unique and refined brand of 2D horror couldn’t be incorporated on previous portable hardware. The overall introduction is detailed enough to convey the intent of the Nintendo R&D1 team on a literal level, while still leaving room for players to fill in the blanks, like a good horror novel.
Of course, this “less is more” approach comes from hardware limitations. Still, Time did nothing but elevate Metroid Fusion. I haven’t come across a 2D game that’s half as horrible as this one. The music is often as gloomy as the narrative, and there’s a lot of horrible 2D sprite work, but Fusion hits a sweet spot that’s both cartoony and realistic, and it drops at just the right time. Somehow, feeling such an overwhelming sense of dread from the GBA’s small, dark screen was more impactful than booting up Silent Hill 2 on the PS2.
Perhaps another key to its success and lasting impact on millennial brains is the stark contrast between the overwhelming evil that inhabits the BSL stations and Samus Alan’s traditional hero’s journey. Every power-up makes the game a little brighter without turning it into a joke, a common pitfall of horror games that make you face off against demons.
The excellent Metroid Dread (the direct sequel) retains much of the spirit of Fusion, but the EMMI robot is so woven into the game’s overall fabric that real, unpredictable dread never comes to the table. SA-X, on the other hand, remains my personal demon to this day. It never left.