I’m talking about the scene. The one where Abby walks into that cabin, and your brain screams, “No, no, no, turn around, Joel!” But he doesn’t turn around.
He’s too busy being a hero. Too busy saving Abby of all people. And then comes the moment: the golf club, the rain, Ellie’s face. I honestly thought my PlayStation was going to short-circuit from all the tears I spilled on it.
Let’s break down why this hit so hard. Was it because Joel was a dad? A gruff, murder-dad who smuggled and lied and loved harder than anyone?
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The game wasn’t just killing Joel. It was making you feel the weight of every single person he’d wronged. Remember the hospital? Yeah, Abby remembered.
And here’s the kicker: Abby wasn’t a cardboard villain. She was a daughter, too. A daughter who watched her father die at the hands of a smuggler with a shotgun. Suddenly, you’re trapped in this messy cycle of “well, he kind of had it coming… but also NO!”
It’s like the game grabbed you by the collar and said, “Your hero? He’s a monster. Now deal with it.” Rude, Naughty Dog. Very rude.
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