I won’t get into too heavy of specifics but there is spoileryness, even while I am as vague as I can be.
In the literal ruins of Hobson’s past, I learned that I can look to his advice but I cannot live in his footsteps. The lesson of the game was that of choice. Hobson imparted knowledge throughout my adventure but, ultimately, taught me that the choices my own through a carefully measured pace of notes that blended with the tasks I found myself choosing to do. There were a lot of decisions to be made as Beatrix, but for every door I chose, another closed. I think we are all choosing doors every single day; what is life if not a series of doors and a mixture of emotions about the ones we did and did not go through?
Slime Rancher let me break convention by allowing me to fly over locked doors, choosing how I approached the world around me. With freedom abound, it is beautiful that they did not take away the culminating final choice. So many games end in a this-or-that scenario masked as decision making that is supposed to be reflective of the person playing. Slime Rancher, while more constrained in overall scope, is so much more. Consequently, Instead, I am now sitting here in my chair, and I am exploring my mixed emotions.
I recommend you play Slime Rancher, or not. The choice is yours.
“The most important things that each man must learn, no one else can teach him. Once he accepts this disappointment, he will be able to stop depending on the therapist, the guru who turns out to be just another struggling human being.” If You Meet the Buddha on the Road, Kill Him! The Pilgrimage of Psychotherapy Patients by Sheldon B. Kopp