Earth Must Die: A Sci-Fi Comedy Where the Emperor’s Only Skill Is Avoiding Responsibility
Release Date: January 27, 2026 Developer: Size Five Games Publisher: No More Robots Reviewed On: RTX 4090, Intel Core i9-13900K, 32GB RAM Steam Deck: Not confirmed
VValak Lizardtongue isn’t a hero. He’s a fraud, a coward, and the last person anyone would trust with an empire—yet he’s the only one left standing when Earth’s weirdos show up uninvited. As the bumbling Grand Shepherd of the Tyrythian Ascendancy, his only real talent is delegating tasks to his tiny, milk-spewing AI advisor, Milky, while avoiding any physical labor himself. The Ascendancy is doomed. And so, it seems, is common sense.
A Point-and-Click Game That Refuses to Grow Up
Earth Must Die is a love letter to the golden age of point-and-click adventures, blending the rapid-fire humor of 1990s Cartoon Network with the absurdity of Adult Swim sketches. Developer Size Five Games—known for games like Lair of the Clockwork God—returns to its roots, crafting a game that thrives on shock value, puns, and puzzles that feel like they were designed by a committee of 14-year-olds with too much caffeine.
The game’s strength lies in its sheer inventiveness. One moment, you’re shrinking down to fix a malfunctioning planetary scanner by infiltrating a microscopic civilization—only to discover they’ve built a sex shop inside it. The next, you’re orchestrating a cruise ship massacre in the style of Hitman, using alien teleporters and a cast of bizarre minions. The jokes are relentless, the puzzles often clever, and the voice acting—packed with British comedy veterans like Joel Fry (Plebs, Our Flag Means Death) and Alex Horne (Taskmaster)—gives the game a raucous energy.
Where the Jokes Outweigh the Logic
But for every brilliant gag or well-executed puzzle, there’s an equal amount of misfires. Take the quest to repair a broken button. After navigating absurd bureaucracy and shrinking down to microscopic levels, the game suddenly pivots to a 10-minute detour through a sex shop run by the very civilization you’re supposed to be fixing. The jokes land—barely—but the abrupt shift undermines what could have been a clever set piece. It’s as if the developers decided to double down on the most juvenile punchline rather than let the puzzle breathe.
There are moments where the game finds its footing. A heist sequence involving alien rebels and a teleporter hack is a standout, blending action with puzzle-solving in a way that feels fresh. Even the infamous alien orgy—yes, it happens—isn’t just gratuitous; it’s woven into the puzzle in a way that, while still ridiculous, doesn’t feel entirely wasted. But the constant barrage of gags, some of which feel forced or rehashed, can wear thin. By the time you’ve seen your third reference to genitalia or capitalism, the novelty wears off.
A Compact, Chaotic Experience
Despite its flaws, Earth Must Die is a compact experience—easily completed in under eight hours—that rewards players who embrace its absurdity. The game’s running gags, like VValak’s refusal to touch anything (he’s too good for manual labor) or Milky’s Milkypedia (a floating encyclopedia that doubles as an in-game hint system), add layers of charm. The voice acting alone makes the game worth playing, with each character—from the bizarre aliens to the heist crew you control via monitors—brimming with personality.
The game’s biggest competition is likely nostalgia. For fans of classic point-and-click adventures like Monkey Island or Sam & Max Hit the Road, Earth Must Die will feel like a long-lost cousin—equal parts brilliant and baffling. But it lacks the polish of more refined comedies like Dispatch, which balances its humor with tighter storytelling. Earth Must Die is more of a sketch comedy collection than a cohesive narrative, and while that’s not necessarily a bad thing, it means the highs are higher but the lows can be frustratingly low.
Who Should Play It?
Earth Must Die isn’t for everyone. If you’re looking for a deep, narrative-driven adventure, this isn’t it. But if you’re in the mood for a fast-paced, joke-heavy romp with puzzles that range from clever to cringe-inducing, it’s a guilty pleasure worth indulging. The game’s humor is hit-or-miss, but its sheer audacity is refreshing in an era where comedy games often play it safe.
Just don’t expect to take it too seriously. After all, the Ascendancy is doomed—and so is any player who tries to analyze this game like a normal person.
