You're SPECIAL

The inside story from those who took FALLOUT from cult classic to global phenomenon

- Ted Litchfield

I'm not gonna do it: I'm not going to open this feature by quoting the GOAT, Ron Perlman, and his eternal refrain from the beginning of every Fallout game. But I know you can hear it in your head as you read this, and that's because everybody has played Fallout.

It's been ten years since the last mainline Fallout game and seven since the release of its multiplayer spinoff, Fallout 76, but it paradoxically feels like there's never been a better time to be a fan of these post-apocalyptic RPGs. Their breadth and depth lends them an inherent longevity, encouraging replay after replay, while they've also received varying degrees of mod and official support. The Fallout TV show, the second season of which is imminent at the time of writing, has exploded the series' fanbase, and sent longtime players scurrying back to revisit old favourites (I'm longtime players).

Fallout has taken over the world, which is weird, because Fallout itself is incredibly weird. I'm not just talking about the original Interplay team's lightning in a bottle combination of Mad Max desolation with optimistic '50s sci-fi and Americana. This is a series that has changed hands between artists and owners, its identity drastically shifting even between entries under the same steward.

While the transition from initial owner Interplay to Bethesda is a core moment in the Fallout meta-story, 1998's Fallout 2 was already a drastic departure from the original. Fallout 1 is a shockingly short RPG by today's standards: I clocked in at 15 hours on a recent, fairly completionist replay. It's a tight, economical game, deeper than it is broad, and boasting a sense of grim pessimism that I find rhymes the most with Fallout 3. Fallout 2 is a beautiful, ambitious and messy sprawl, unfurling in every direction with more guns, more companions and more settlements.