Of Pine Trees and Anglerfish
While waiting for my coffee to finish brewing, I came across a video of a streamer who had just completed a playthrough of a game. They were speechless for quite a while, as if they had just witnessed something profound, teary-eyed as the game’s sentimental music played in the background.
My curiosity got the better of me and I searched for more videos about the game. I found snippets of gameplay (Why are they trying to dive into the sun?), but mostly of people with dazed expressions after completing the game. In my mind, “How could a game leave them like that?”
The game was Outer Wilds. Released in 2019, it received overwhelmingly positive reviews from critics and players alike. I quickly got the Archaeologist version for my Nintendo Switch.
!!! warning “Spoiler Warning”
This article contains details about the gameplay and story of Outer Wilds.
Hatchling
I admit I did not have a good start in the game.
After waking up near a campfire, I spent a good amount of time trying to find the observatory, almost failed the spaceship repair simulation, got stuck in a cliff (I had to restart the game), and sent the spaceship prototype multiple times into its doom.
I had gone in completely blind, letting my natural curiosity guide me. So I jumped out of my seat when the Nomai mask in the museum moved and was left utterly dumbfounded when the sun exploded into a blinding blue supernova.
…And then I woke up back at the campfire. I’m in a time loop and I have 22 minutes before the sun explodes again.
The Quest
When my character met their end just as they were about to begin the journey they had prepared their whole life for, I instantly made it my goal to find a way to stop the sun from exploding.
And so began my quest to find answers. I went loop after loop exploring every corner of the solar system. With every ancient Nomai text I translated and every conversation with the Outer Wilds crew, my goal slowly changed.
I had started the game looking for a way to stop the end. Somewhere along the way, I began trying to understand it.
Chert
At the end of a time loop, on one of the twin planets closest to the sun, I talked to Chert:
Oh, hello… Come, sit with me, my fellow traveler. Let’s sit together and watch the stars die.
It was the first time I gazed upward and saw that the sun no longer looked as friendly as it had 20 minutes prior. From a distance, Brittle Hollow was almost consumed by its core.
What if there is really no way to stop this? What if there is no secret sequence to trigger, no ancient miracle machine to fix? What if this is simply the end?
We only get so much time, don’t we? Ah, there was still more I wanted to do...How unlucky to have been born at the end of the universe
It wasn’t just the universe that felt like it was ending.
In 2025, I lived through a series of quiet, painful losses: laying maternal figures in my life to rest, and watching the final chapter of a long-term relationship draw to a close.
I found myself trapped in my own internal loop: rummaging through memories and flashbacks for puzzle pieces and clues, asking myself what I could have done better, ruminating over the moments I’ll never get back.
A time loop, you said? I like that idea…
Chert’s acceptance was a mirror I wasn’t expecting to look into. For most of the game, I thought Outer Wilds was a puzzle to be solved, a tragedy to be prevented.
But as the music began to swell across the dying solar system, I realized the game was not asking me to save the world.
The Ending
The universe is, and we are.
The sun was not dying because of an ancient curse or a broken machine. It was dying because its time was up. As with all beautiful things in the universe, it simply had to come to an end.
In the Eye of the Universe, there was no final battle, no secret lever to restore the solar system. I gathered quantum reflections of the travelers and Solanum around a single campfire. Surrounded by the collapse of everything that ever was, we played one final song.
It’s the kind of thing that makes you glad you stopped and smelled the pine trees along the way, you know?
We don’t get to restart the loop to save what’s already gone, nor can we rewrite the chapters that have drawn to a close.
As the new universe ignited from the embers of our campfire, I understood what Outer Wilds had given me: permission to stop trying to undo the end, cherish what is here, and carry the memories of those I’ve lost into whatever comes next.