Landinar: Into the Void

Buggy abandonware

Landinar: Into the Void, developed and published by Convoy Games, is an ambitious blend of top-down space adventure, open-world exploration, and modular ship-building simulation. The game places players in a crumbling galactic frontier ruled by a corrupt empire, casting them as a newly minted bounty hunter trying to carve a name in the void. What begins as a series of small jobs and simple ship upgrades soon unfolds into a larger journey across an oppressive star system where lawlessness and corporate greed shape every encounter. The premise feels familiar to fans of space exploration games, yet Landinar strives to stand apart through its distinct mix of ship customization, on-foot exploration, and a seamless transition between piloting and personal movement—an idea few games in the genre attempt. One of the game’s standout elements is its freedom. Players are given immediate access to a customizable ship and can choose how to engage with the world: pursue contracts, explore derelict stations, trade, or simply roam through space. The ship-building system is the centerpiece of this freedom. Every ship is built from modular components, allowing players to experiment with layouts, weapon placements, and propulsion systems to match their play style. This system offers a tangible sense of ownership, as each vessel feels unique—an expression of both creativity and survival instinct. Combat complements this customization, combining deliberate positioning and resource management with real-time piloting. Unlike many space sims that rely purely on distance-based shooting, Landinar encourages players to board ships or make emergency repairs mid-battle, adding a layer of tactical tension that keeps each engagement dynamic. The world design reinforces this sense of scale and autonomy. Each quadrant of the galaxy is filled with stations, trade routes, and pirate strongholds. When docking at a station, the perspective shifts from ship view to a third-person, on-foot viewpoint where players can interact with NPCs, accept missions, and explore corridors filled with industrial machinery and ambient detail. These transitions between piloting and walking give Landinar a tangible, lived-in atmosphere; players aren’t just disembodied ships—they are people navigating an empire built on metal and control. The on-foot sequences also help ground the story, offering insight into the oppressive bureaucracy of the Landinar Empire and the small rebellions forming in its shadow. However, Landinar’s ambition occasionally outpaces its execution. The concept of seamlessly switching between space flight and station exploration is novel, but the technical side can falter. Camera control on stations is limited, often leading to moments of disorientation as you lose track of your character in narrow hallways. Interface design also suffers from clutter and inconsistency, with overlapping menus or unclear icons breaking immersion. Performance issues such as stuttering, long load times, and occasional crashes plague the experience, especially in early builds. These flaws don’t destroy the game, but they highlight the rough edges of an otherwise promising design. It’s clear that Convoy Games aimed for breadth and player freedom, but that scope came at the expense of mechanical refinement. Narratively, Landinar sits in a gray space between structured storytelling and sandbox freedom. The game introduces its world with political intrigue—the remnants of rebellion against an empire that maintains control through its “Stone-Eyed Children” enforcers—but it never fully capitalizes on its lore. Story missions provide context and motivation, but the pacing often feels disjointed. Conversations with NPCs can be dry, with functional dialogue that delivers information but little emotional depth. The true storytelling emerges through exploration: the ruins of abandoned colonies, transmissions from long-dead crews, and the atmosphere of decay that pervades every outpost. In this sense, Landinar relies more on environmental storytelling than on scripted narrative, inviting players to fill in the gaps with their imagination. Despite its unevenness, there is a certain charm to Landinar’s world. The art direction is bold and consistent, characterized by heavy use of metallic tones, flickering lights, and industrial design. It evokes a gritty, utilitarian future closer to classic sci-fi like Firefly or Cowboy Bebop than the sterile perfection of other space sims. The sound design complements this mood: the hum of engines, the faint echoes of footsteps on metal floors, and the distant crackle of communication channels all contribute to the illusion of inhabiting a living, breathing frontier. The soundtrack, though understated, enhances the feeling of isolation and scale that defines deep space. At its best, Landinar: Into the Void captures the thrill of freedom—the sensation of being a small figure navigating the vast, dangerous expanse of space. It gives players tools to build, explore, and survive in their own way, and when its systems align, the experience can feel deeply rewarding. Yet, at its worst, it suffers from technical limitations and an incomplete sense of direction, leaving players to wonder what the game might have become with more polish and structure. The roughness doesn’t negate its value; rather, it makes it feel like an experiment in progress, a foundation for something greater. In the end, Landinar: Into the Void is a bold but imperfect venture into modular space exploration. It’s a game filled with potential—its mechanics ambitious, its atmosphere engaging, and its sense of scale compelling—but that ambition comes with compromises in execution. For players willing to overlook rough edges in favor of creativity and freedom, it offers moments of genuine wonder and discovery. For those seeking a polished, cohesive space RPG, it may feel unfinished. Still, Convoy Games’ willingness to push the genre forward deserves recognition, and Landinar stands as an intriguing reminder that innovation often begins in the void between what works and what almost does. Rating: 5/10