The midway point or climax of Panic reminds me of an intense metroidvania boss fight where you've got no more healing items and the boss has just assumed their final form. Your palms are sweating, but you're determined to press on through the onslaught of the pixilated apocalypse.
You die in game, yet you couldn't feel more alive.
Syndrone channels some serious Paul Wardingham, Jeff Loomis, and Mendel vibes on this record. This album is chocked full of meaty, crushing riffs and eargasmic shred. Pretty much everything I could want from instrumental, sci-fi, progressive metal.