Naughty DogAttachment is subtle. We are quick to connect and disconnect with stuff all day long. Among our thousands of choices about trends, content, and products a select few slowly begin to linger and take on a feeling of home. Of a decided thing we can look to again and again and know what it is and what it’s about. There is a fine line between familiarity and boredom though, especially in video games. Creators frequently choose to upend the whole thing rather than keep walking a tightrope. It’s always a risk. Especially when it’s something worth lots and lots of money.When The Last of Us Part II launched on June 19, 2020, it wasn’t content to continue the story of one of gaming’s most beloved narratives. It dismantled it, intentionally, to show its audience what the foundation was really all about. The shocking demise of a franchise character, a villain-turned-protagonist POV, and a complex world built upon a shifting moral code that made players feel frustrated and uneasy. TLOU 2 took a hard left turn away from fan service and blazed a trail that’s still clear to us five years later.Naughty Dog’s emotionally brutal sequel remains one of the most divisive yet important games of the last generation, a lightning rod for debate and a benchmark for cinematic storytelling in the medium. Set five years after the original game’s heartbreaking conclusion, Part II wastes no time in upending expectations. Within the game’s opening hours, Joel is murdered. It is a shocking act of brutality and a villainous introduction to Abby, a new and central character to the story.The moment ignited fierce backlash among fans who had grown deeply attached to Joel, many of whom felt blindsided or even betrayed. But from a narrative standpoint, Joel’s passing was a deliberate turning point. It was meant to mirror the cycle of hurt the game confronts us with again and again.That confrontation is Part II’s central mission. Ellie, now a hardened adult, embarks on a vengeance-fueled campaign across a decaying Seattle to avenge Joel. But halfway through the game, Naughty Dog flips the perspective entirely. Players are asked to relive many of the same days and events from Abby’s point of view. Suddenly, the monstrous villain from Ellie’s narrative becomes a full, complicated human being.Joel’s demise in the opening hours of the game alienated some fans, but most came to understand it as a central component of the larger themes about brutality and regret. | Naughty DogThis narrative pivot was controversial, to say the least. Abby, physically imposing and emotionally guarded, challenged conventional notions of what a video game protagonist could be — especially a female one. While some lauded the game for expanding representation and taking creative risks, others rejected Abby outright. The backlash spiraled into toxicity, with voice actress Laura Bailey receiving threats. What should have been a meaningful conversation about storytelling, morality, and empathy in games was instead kept getting drowned out by a wave of misogyny and outrage.And yet, The Last of Us Part II endured.Critically, the game was a triumph. It received widespread acclaim for its writing, performances (Ashley Johnson and Laura Bailey delivering career-defining work), and technical achievement. Naughty Dog pushed the PlayStation 4 hardware to its limits, delivering a lush, grim world with fluid animations, dynamic lighting, and deeply immersive audio design. The accessibility options also set a new bar for the industry, opening up the experience to players with a wide range of needs.Ellie and Dina’s love story shined as one of the few bright spots in a game about the dark side of human nature. | Naughty DogCommercially, it was a juggernaut. Selling over four million copies in its first weekend, it became the fastest-selling first-party PS4 exclusive at the time. Even with the divisiveness, or perhaps because of it, Part II remained a cultural talking point for months. Memes, think pieces, YouTube essays, and academic discussions flooded in, dissecting everything from the treatment of trauma and queer identity to its bold rejection of narrative comfort.In the broader landscape of gaming, The Last of Us Part II stands as a turning point. It expanded the boundaries of how AAA games could challenge players emotionally, morally, and narratively. It dared to alienate in the name of artistic integrity, to ask uncomfortable questions about justice, revenge, and the limits of empathy.As we sit five years removed from its release, it’s clear that The Last of Us Part II is no longer just a sequel. It’s a statement. A challenge. For some fans, it’s a wound that hasn’t quite healed, and maybe never will. But like all great art, it lingers. Multiple remasters and an HBO series made sure of that. And in that lingering, it has become unforgettable.