So there it is, picture perfect on your television: No Man's Sky. You've waited months, nay, [i]years[/i] for this moment: soldiered through countless setbacks and legal troubles, but it's finally here. An entire universe lays right in front of you, ready for you to explore. [i]Quintillions[/i] of planets, waiting to be charted and claimed. You climb into your spaceship, eager to begin your journey, and fly off into the great unknown. A day passes. You are still new to the game: your ship and weapons are weak, but you've begun to collect better parts, or have already begun planning to upgrade to a much more powerful model. True to the game's theme, you have already made stops on at least 5 uncharted worlds, naming everything in sight and exploring the endless vistas each one offers. A glance at you star map shows you've only made marginal progress through the universe, and you've played for hours! Things are looking good. Another day passes. And another. Soon, a week has gone by. You've still only made marginal progress through the universe, but are drawing closer to the center, where all the juicy bits are supposed to be. Your ship is now much more adept at traversing the stars, and your weapons are able to subdue all but the most dangerous wildlife. You've visited more than 50 undiscovered planets. But... So what? By your 15th planet, you began to notice similarities between certain planets. They're not the same by any means, but certain things are eerily familiar, like the color of the sky and the formation of clouds, or perhaps the landscape looks a bit too similar. Obviously these are not the same planets by any sense, yet as you explore more and more, your sense of awe and discovery begins to dwindle as you see these planets for what they are: empty. Oh, there is wildlife to be sure, but even that had lost its glamor. After running out of creative ideas, you've resorted to naming creatures "butts," or some other random phrase, simply to know you have a claim over them, but not to have any creative input. You've noticed similarities between creatures too: one species was exactly the same as another species you'd found on a different planet, only with different arms, and a different skin color. That wasn't much of a discovery, now was it? You wonder: why do I do this? What is the point? To chart my way across millions of bland planets, naming similar animals that no one else will ever see, in the hopes to reach the center of the universe for, what exactly? A new species of reptile with yet another set of different arms? Oh, maybe it will even have different legs! Or perhaps an altered snout! You put down your controller in bewilderment. This so not fun, you realize. For all my exploration, for all my time invested, I have not truly discovered anything meaningful. I have seen so many planets, they have begun to blend together, and what have I gained? A better spaceship, so I can see more of these planets? No thank you sir! And so you shut off your console of choice, and you give No Man's Sky a rest. Maybe you'll play something else for a while: maybe you'll come back to explore the universe tomorrow. Maybe you'll eject the game, and never put it back in, because there is simply no reason to explore an entire universe that is, for the most part, empty. I hope the game does not turn out to be like this, but if it does, I'm afraid it will suffer a very short life span, save for a few very loyal fans.