When Immortality premiered on bilibili back in January 2022, it arrived at an interesting moment for animated sci-fi storytelling. The show didn’t come with massive international hype or a recognizable IP backing it up, yet what Meng Ru Shen Ji created was something that quietly demanded attention from anyone paying close enough attention to find it. Over the next few years, watching this series unfold across five seasons and 82 episodes became one of those rewarding experiences that reminds you why serialized storytelling still matters in animation.
What makes Immortality stand out is how deliberately it uses its format to tell a story that could have felt sprawling and unfocused in less careful hands. The 25-minute episode runtime becomes almost meditative in its constraints—each episode feels purposeful, like Shen Ji understood that brevity in animation doesn’t mean cutting corners on depth. Instead, it forces every scene, every piece of dialogue, every visual flourish to earn its place. That discipline shows across the full 82-episode journey, where you rarely find yourself thinking a scene was wasted.
The show’s exploration of its core themes feels genuinely ambitious. By weaving together animation, action sequences, dramatic character work, and sci-fi worldbuilding, Immortality refuses to be pinned down to any single genre. One episode might prioritize existential dread and philosophical questioning, the next could be a showcase of kinetic action animation that rivals anything in the medium. This tonal and thematic variety is what likely contributed to its solid 7.2/10 rating—it’s the kind of show that doesn’t try to be universally beloved but rather earns devoted appreciation from people who connect with what it’s attempting.
> The series manages something increasingly rare: it trusts its audience’s intelligence while maintaining genuine emotional stakes.
Let’s talk about what the show actually does with its premise, because this is where Immortality reveals its creative ambitions:
- Existential stakes that go beyond simple “immortal being searches for meaning” territory
- Character development that unfolds patiently across seasons rather than rushing to artificial resolution
- World-building that feels lived-in and consequential, not just window dressing for action sequences
- Moral complexity where immortality becomes less a power to celebrate and more a condition to reckon with
The cultural conversation around Immortality developed slowly but meaningfully. This wasn’t a show that exploded onto social media and faded within weeks. Instead, it built a community of viewers who appreciated its willingness to sit with uncomfortable questions about existence, identity, and what it means to persist beyond natural lifespans. Those who connected with it really connected with it, and that kind of sustained engagement speaks volumes about the quality of storytelling happening here.
What’s particularly impressive is how Meng Ru Shen Ji maintained momentum across five seasons. Serialized animation often struggles with pacing—shows either burn through their concepts too quickly or pad episodes with repetition. Immortality threaded that needle remarkably well, introducing new dimensions to its world and characters while maintaining thematic coherence. By the time viewers reached later seasons, they weren’t just watching episodes; they were watching ideas evolve and deepen.
The creative achievement here deserves recognition beyond its numerical rating. A 7.2/10 tells you this isn’t a show that achieved universal acclaim, and that’s almost beside the point. What matters is that it achieved something specific—a unique voice in animated sci-fi that wasn’t chasing trends or trying to replicate previous successes. The choice to tell this particular story, in this particular way, through this particular medium, was artistic and genuinely risky.
The action sequences deserve special mention. When Immortality leans into its adventure elements, the animation team clearly understood that spectacle without consequence is empty. Every action beat connects to character, to plot, to thematic meaning. This isn’t style divorced from substance; it’s style in service of story. That integration of visual storytelling with narrative purpose is something that separates good animated action from great animated action.
The show’s status as a Returning Series means viewers still have material to look forward to. That continuation speaks to both audience demand and creator confidence—Shen Ji clearly has more to say about this world and these characters. The fact that Immortality maintained enough momentum across its first five seasons to warrant additional content suggests the story had enough foundation and forward momentum to justify expansion rather than just repetition.
For anyone serious about understanding what contemporary animated storytelling can achieve, Immortality is essential viewing. It’s the kind of show that reminds us why we value original concepts, why we appreciate creators willing to challenge their audiences, and why animation as a medium remains endlessly capable of surprising us. Five seasons, 82 episodes, and a willingness to explore difficult ideas—that’s a legacy worth celebrating, rating be damned.
