*Spoilers ahead*
“When you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light,” the Fireflies’ mantra etched into every frame of The Last of Us (2023-ongoing) was always going to be ironic. In an apocalyptic world overrun by insurgents, zombies, and militia, there is no light—only the illusion of it. And even more tragically, the few seeking the light are bound by the same rage, vengeance, and tribalism that poisoned the world in the first place.
With season two of The Last of Us now airing, the series has taken the brutal leap that echoes one of the most polarising moments in the game라이브 바카라 history: the death of Joel Miller (portrayed by Pedro Pascal). Episode two didn’t hold back, as Abby (Kaitlyn Dever) bludgeoned Joel with a golf club in a shocking recreation of the second game라이브 바카라 most controversial event. Pedro Pascal himself acknowledged this moment was inevitable, “a matter of how and when,” because it forms the fulcrum of what The Last of Us is really about—the brutal futility of cyclical violence.
While the show is set in a post-apocalyptic United States, the emotional and moral terrain it traverses is disturbingly familiar to our present world. The creators are Neil Druckmann (who is Israeli) and Craig Mazin (who is Jewish) and their politics in The Last of Us reflects a form of centrism that's hesitant to assign unambiguous villainy. The video game was inspired by Druckmann's experiences growing up in Israel and there are plenty of Jewish influences in the games that either hinge on their identity as survivors of ethnic hatred or the normalisation of their perpetuation of the same bigotry. A 20-minute section of the game is dedicated to touring an old synagogue. The concrete walls and watchtowers in the games’ version of Seattle resemble those built by Israel in the occupied West Bank.
The various factions in The Last of Us, who all believe they are trying to save the world, and humanity in turn—be it the Fireflies, the Washington Liberation Front, or Seraphites—are shown with similar moral complexity. Each faction is trying to survive, fighting for what it believes is justifiable, even noble. And none are above succumbing to cycles of violence. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind is the kind of parable that kids should be taught for good reason. But one cannot overlook that in this scrupulous even-handedness lies a certain failure too: the refusal to admit when one side wields disproportionate power or when an ideology is fundamentally rooted in supremacy like in the case of Israel라이브 바카라 ongoing ethnic cleansing of Palestinians—the event that is the very inspiration for the story of The Last of Us.
While it is laudable to condemn the brutality of cyclical violence, centrism in such narratives leans into a false equivalence masquerading as balance. It risks flattening real-world analogues. It dilutes culpability by creating artificial moral symmetry. Stories like The Last of Us also characterise such barbarity as human inevitability, where vengeance becomes the only recourse. However, where the show excels is in its portrayal of what revenge does to people—how it consumes not just the body, but the soul. Abby라이브 바카라 act of vengeance isn’t triumphant; it라이브 바카라 horrifying. And Ellie라이브 바카라 (Bella Ramsey) path from that point spirals into a morally grey oblivion and the cycle continues.
And this cycle is not fictional. Watching this season unfold in real-time, one can’t help but draw parallels to the raw, bloody nature of our current political moment in India. Following the recent Pahalgam terror attack, a section of Indian social media erupted with calls for vengeance. Not justice—vengeance. Facebook posts demanding the mass execution of Muslims, tweets calling for the expulsion or extermination of Muslim civilians, and WhatsApp forwards filled with genocidal rhetoric have been circulating with alarming frequency and little to no accountability. This isn’t just hate—it라이브 바카라 state-sanctioned blood thirst, and the people spewing it don’t fear retribution. Because in a country increasingly brainwashed with bigoted propaganda, those calling for more of it are often seen as patriots.
Season two of The Last of Us will continue to follow Ellie—a young girl shaped by trauma and grief, born into a world that has never known peace or stability—as she descends into a version of herself that looks completely unrecognisable from the innocent teen she once was. There is the reminder that Joel라이브 바카라 selfish act of saving Ellie in Season one did not make him a hero either. But the most haunting takeaway is that no matter how well-intentioned the motive, violence never ends with the act. It reverberates. It breeds more of itself.
Joel killed Abby라이브 바카라 father, Abby killed Joel, Ellie hunts Abby, and so on. The audience is left gutted not just by the loss of beloved characters, but by the realisation that the carnage was always inevitable in a system built on retribution. In the end, The Last of Us isn’t about zombies. It라이브 바카라 about people who survive at the cost of their humanity, and the bitter truth that sometimes, surviving is the most monstrous act of all.
Debiparna Chakraborty is a film, TV, and culture critic dissecting media at the intersection of gender, politics, and power
