Revisiting the original Deus Ex (Ion Storm 2000) twenty-five years after its release is a strange experience. I myself didn’t play Deus Ex until I think 2016 or 2017, simply because I wasn’t old enough at the time. I think the first thing I noticed was that the game’s soundtrack is still just as good as I remembered it. I used to have the game’s funky electronica on repeat during those years, and listening to it again as I write this article, I wonder why I ever stopped. The game moves from sweeping, orchestral and dramatic scores (such as the game’s main theme) to more moody and subdued yet still melodic pieces (such as VersaLife). Hardly anything compares to the sensation of finally making it to Hong Kong and being rewarded with The Synapse. It reminds me of why I fell in love with the game so easily when I originally played it.

Deus Ex, for those who have somehow made it here but have never heard of the game, is a classic cyberpunk thriller, which weaves actually-held conspiracy theories into a single fictional narrative, featuring at least offhand mentions of everything you can think of – the Illuminati, sentient AI, Area 51, Men in Black – the list goes on and on. But the game doesn’t start off like that.

The game’s opening mission, set on Liberty Island, is famous for how open it is. I mean, the whole game is – but there’s something about the immediate promise of Deus Ex. Outside of the optional tutorial mission (which is very linear and has a pass / fail set of objectives), Deus Ex’s missions are sprawling and labyrinthine – and also trust the player to comprehend the task in front of them. Within five minutes of starting the game, you’re already running through Liberty Island with a weapon of choice, choosing to gun down the terrorists that have occupied the statue – or choosing to avoid them, picking a stealthy way through the complex, or even helping to free the other UNATCO agent from his imprisonment. There’s so many ways to approach even this very first objective, and so many ways that the game remembers what you did. Everything feels earnest and responsive. The controls are a little clunky by today’s standards, but give it ten minutes and you’ll be right at home again.

Though I think it is the dialogue and the themes of the game that give it its staying power. I am not a conspiracy theorist but (always a good sentence to write) I think the themes of the rich abusing their power over the poor are resonant. If there’s anything Deus Ex wants you to take seriously, it is the control and dissemination of information. There are countless dialogues that allude to these themes, even just offhand ones. You can even up trying to order a drink, and then get wrapped up in a conversation with a bartender in Hong Kong about the way the Chinese government runs things. Even if you don’t agree with what is being said, it’s still valuable to hear about such things being openly discussed. The conversations you have throughout the game all feed into the game’s central thesis, which seems to me to be a natural skepticism of power, or at least a certain kind of power.

The villain, Bob Page, is cartoonishly evil, and is easy to hate and replace. Yet the ideas and factions that may replace him are fascinatingly multifaceted and each have their own unique pros and cons. And Page’s disdain for the working person is also unsettling – “let the bodies pile up in the streets”, he says, an eerie precursor to then-UK leader Boris Johnson’s reaction to COVID perhaps, among many other callous leaders. Working to stop him is satisfying – it’s something worth doing. Unravelling the various increasingly ludicrous conspiracies the game unveils is also fun, even if designer Warren Spector says that “if someone made Deus Ex today it might be perceived as a documentary”. Like a lot of good speculative genre fiction, Deus Ex taps into anxieties about technology and the future that turn out to be troublingly prescient – if only because smart writers could see which way the wind was blowing. Even if they hoped otherwise.

Deus Ex is a treat for basically any kind of video game player I can think of. The expansive levels are fantastic for anyone who wants to explore and find every nook and cranny of lore or helpful item they can find. For those who love to be invested in a good story, the game’s interesting, well-written (if hammily acted) dialogue is still effective today. There are some poignant lines that I still think about today in regards to the human love of being observed and seen – “if God were not real, it would be necessary to invent them”. There’s something miserably accurate about that human desire for hierarchy.

There’s gunplay and RPG elements that meaningfully and noticeably affect the character’s skills in gameplay. There’s action and sci-fi madness galore. But I do think there’s really something special about exploring a location without any extra pressure. Hong Kong is one, but there’s this dark manor in Paris, France that really sticks with me.

You wander around with a girl who grew up in that manor, combing through it, looking through its history. A little prison for eighteen years, she calls it. Shrouded in darkness yet illuminated by the moon, you wander through rooms and find the light switch. You rifle through the fridge, search benchtops and tables and bedside cabinets. There’s a desire as I reexplore this sacred video game space, a desire to recapture the past. Or even a desire to say that Deus Ex isn’t relevant anymore. Maybe video games really have moved on from the power of this classic immersive sim. But, no. I adore it still, adore this house.

Deus Ex stagnates. The series is dead, probably to be revived by some obscure backdoor IP deal in twenty years time. But that’s okay. “Only in novels do buildings collapse when their spirit is lost.” The original game is still here to stay.