“To the Moon” is the first game to make me cry. It’s actually the first anything to make me cry, as I’ve never shed a tear over any form of media prior to finishing the game last week. I didn’t bat an eye at the montage in the opening act of “Up,” but I felt a single tear roll down my cheek as I watched the ending to this pixilated adventure game written by one man. If you play one game this year, make it this one.

In “To the Moon,” there exists a company with technology that enables doctors to dive into dying patients’ memories and make their last wish come true, with the caveat that it will be the last memory they have before passing away. A terminal man named Johnny has hired the company to fulfill his final wish: to go to the moon. There’s a catch: he doesn’t actually know why he wants to go to the moon, and so the story begins.

The game puts players in the shoes of two doctors, Neil and Eva, who are assigned to Johnny’s case. In order to help him fulfill his wish, the pair travels backwards through their client’s memories to find the source of his subconscious dream. In the process, “To the Moon” touches on the themes of regret, loss, death and coping with tragedy. The story’s protagonists make their own decisions about how life should be lived, and chances are you might not agree with some of those choices. Even so, the game has a keen sense of humor, and it throws in some light-hearted banter between Neil and Eva when things become too gloomy.

To be honest, “To the Moon” isn’t a video game in the traditional sense. It has even less in the way of gameplay than, say, “Phoenix Wright.” On the surface, it looks like an old school Japanese RPG and controls like one, but the framework exists only to move the story forward and keep the dialogue running. You’re funneled to each location, and there is no inventory, no death, nothing. There are tiny puzzles bridging each memory, but none of them pose any challenge or require any real thought. For those curious about length, I finished the game in a little under five hours.

Regardless of what “To the Moon” might be classified as, its charm is undeniable. The 16-bit artwork is evocative of “Chrono Trigger,” with fantastic sprite work full of personality and character. However, it’s actually the game’s soundtrack that tugs at the heartstrings the most. The score, composed by Kan R. Gao, also the sole writer for the game, is a beautiful series of piano and violin based tracks that drive the game’s most emotional moments home. Much like my other favorite soundtracks, I can listen to a song, close my eyes, and picture the scene it accompanies.

There’s so much more I want to say about “To the Moon,” but it would spoil one of the best stories to grace games in ages. I want to gush about the meaning behind the hundreds of origami rabbits in Johnny’s basement and the bittersweet ending, but obviously I can’t. If you have any interest in a good story, buy “To the Moon” from the developer for the paltry sum of $12. Play it, and weep.