countless times before.
The
sense
of
immersion is shattered
once you uncover the
truth, and you’ll never
be able to escape
the immense feeling
of
disappointment
that
comes
from
discovering the harsh
reality. It leaves No
Man’s Sky feeling
like a predictable,
artificial façade, one
that is devoid of almost
all of the wonder
and
amazement
you’d expect when
sailing through the
countless stars of an
undiscovered galaxy.
This issue is only
accentuated
by
the painfully slow
movement. As an
intrepid spacefaring
pioneer,
I
was
expecting to be able
to leap and bound my
way across the game’s
alien landscapes, but
instead I found myself
crawling around like
Jabba the Hutt. It makes
getting
anywhere
an
excruciating
experience, and only
serves to give you
more time to witness
the
aforementioned
sense of overwhelming
repetitiveness.
The
added jetpack does
little to improve the
situation - due to the
pipette-sized fuel tank
- further destroying the
swashbuckling space
adventurer fantasy.
To keep your planethopping
escapades
in full swing, you’ll
need to comb every
system to harvest the
necessary resources to
keep your ship in top
condition. This basically
constitutes you pointing
and shooting your
mining laser at various,
suspiciously
phallic
rock formations. There
is nothing inherently
wrong with the system,
and during the opening
moments of No Man’s
Sky, spent frantically
trying to duct tape your
ship back together, the
experience is ultimately
a rewarding one as
you take your first small
steps into a universe of
opportunity.
But like the art of
exploration
itself,
the initial feeling of
excitement
drains
away to leave behind
the dregs of bored
disappointment. You
never feel you’re
actually accomplishing
anything, and while
there are a plethora
of potential upgrades
to craft using your
collected
resources,
the majority do little
to affect the overall
experience.
The
only tangibly useful
upgrades come in the
form of expanding your
inventory, something
inherently
important
due to the utterly
minuscule amount of
space you recei