No Man's Sky struggles to resolve one central contradiction. The game was built to be infinite, and in practical terms it is. It's an endless, edgeless field possibilities. And yet it needs an endpoint, or at least a set of waypoints, to give purpose to your journey - to give you somewhere to be headed. This isn't just a matter of meeting gaming convention. No Man's Sky is brilliant - perhaps peerless - at evoking the classic science-fiction voyage into the stars. The further you go, the faster you travel, the more you learn and the more you see; never look back, because everything left behind is gone forever, while nothing ahead has been seen before. But to fully answer this seeking impulse, the game first has to give you a destination that means something to you - and that is something it only haltingly manages to do.
With much of the No Man's Sky's structure having apparently been added in the final month of development, that's not so surprising. (The patch notes are eye-opening; mere weeks ago, this was half the game it is now.) There is tremendous room for it to grow and improve. As it stands, it's flawed but completely intoxicating, a unique work of engineering art to lose yourself in. Sean Murray and his team at Hello Games set out with one goal: to create a game that is science fiction. Mission accomplished.