Like watching paint dry, only less colorful. The “characters” (I use that word generously) are wooden mannequins acting out a script so predictable I half-expected ChatGPT itself to ask for a writing credit. The plot, if you can call it that, is little more than endless descriptions of sipping wine, fumbling with women, and tediously explaining alien tech that even the author clearly doesn’t understand. Listening to this drivel is like being forced to watch a friend play a video game in god mode: no tension, no stakes, no point. Simply awful. I regret every second, but at least now I can warn others — save yourself the time and brain cells.