I was 13 years old when I first locked eyes on Primal. It had that po-faced goth sensibility that was so popular in 2003, and meshed nicely with my personal brand of long hair, KoRn t-shirts, and regret.
Our heroes Jen and Scree — a spunky goth girl with shapeshifting demon powers, and a squat paternal gargoyle who I quietly wished was my dad — quickly wormed their way into my heart. But it wasn’t just Jen and Scree’s dynamite chemistry, it was the constant anticipation of “what’s next?” Each new world was a buffet of sprawling environments, terrible yet endearing cutscenes, and slapdash superpowers that were all style and no substance.