One of those long-running, oft discussed series you're initially thrilled with that ultimately can't sustain itself, Hiroya failing miraculously in offering up anything but striking imagery and/or edgy, subversive death laced with gore aplenty as he bombards us with frantic, shrieking bystanders and onomatopoeia ad infinitum. MUCH more involving when the stakes are confined to the key players and core mystery surrounding Gantz it/himself that has yet to unfurl, the manner in which full-scale invasion comes to fruition feeling a bit slapdash as the primary means of padding everything out as things trudge along. Once likable characters become detestable, and once detestable characters become worse, all while asking the same question over and over again, intermittently screaming about God's nonexistence as others similarly scream, scream and scream some more. Do I comprehend the gravitas and utter fear associated with a doomsday scenario such as this? Not entirely - this is of course a work of fiction that hinges on speculation - but I CAN admit that being this incredulous (re: "This can't be real!") at literally every interval is futile beyond the word itself. I'm at the point now where nothing can or will surprise me, up to and including total worldly annihilation as characters cry and lament encroaching doom as footfalls, collateral damage and innumerable other means of imposed carnage from machines and otherworldly beings go ROAAAAARRRRR, SKREEEEE, THUDD, RMBBLL or KABOOM whenever bodies aren't going SPLOTCH, weapons VWEEN and humans "KYAAAAAH!" when they're not panting at a dead sprint or during an evasive maneuver or twelve. Kei shouts for Tae and visa versa in a resplendent alien metropolis as stark naked survivors selfishly browbeat the former into helping them because he SHOULD, what with being a fellow member of the human race and all. Rinse, repeat, observe, report. Root for no one out of sheer annoyance, or arbitrarily root for someone. Root for love? The survival of all mankind, perhaps? No no, maybe we'll just hold out to see what happens, as is customary. Mourn the dead? No, that doesn't feel right - the stakes are higher now and we're already in cahoots with a new batch of flesh fodder and their momentary saviors just as susceptible to the wildly unceremonious chopping block. All in all, this devolves from its promising beginnings into an occasionally striking dystopian disaster fantasy plagued by a poor, unbelievably sparse and repetitive script, questionable plotting and characters turned husks, leaning on a one-note M.O. for far too many pages, chapters and volumes as I, personally, find myself committed to pushing through on account of how far along I already am, much to my chagrin.