Zom­bies, again? Might as well, it’s an exclu­sive after all. Got­ta fly my PS flag, right?” I thought as I stared down The Last of Us. Nat­u­ral­ly, I relent­ed, tak­ing it home and pop­ping it in to endure anoth­er sto­ry­line of loss, betray­al and regret.

Imag­ine my sur­prise to find myself play­ing a lit­tle girl. “Nice lit­tle take” I thought, play­ing on to dis­cov­er, go fig­ure (SPOILER ALERT?), that the lit­tle girl dies. That explains why she was­n’t on the cov­er. So there’s the loss.

Cue issue num­ber one. The buildup to actu­al game­play is too long. While I myself pow­ered through it to fin­ish the game, I know peo­ple who dropped it just because the time between that lit­tle girl hook and zom­bie sur­vival was just too big.

As if that was­n’t enough, the actu­al game­play, once you get to it, is sol­id cook­ie-cut­ter zom­bie sur­vival. You have your stealth aspect, scav­enger craft­ing sys­tem, human ban­dits out only for them­selves, and dif­fer­ent tiers of zom­bies intro­duced as you progress through the game. The only bit of innno­va­tion I noticed was the type of zom­bie virus; fun­gi. I have to be afraid of mush­rooms now. WHY could they not let us have mushrooms?

There’s also the oth­er sur­vivors you meet along the way. Cue the betray­al. I don’t know what it is about zom­bie apoc­a­lypse sit­u­a­tions, but they have a way of bring­ing out the worst in peo­ple. No spoil­ers here, if you want to know, go find out.

The regret, of course, is both­er­ing to try the mul­ti­play­er. For some rea­son when you com­bine third per­son shoot­er and stealth com­bat, it’s either bor­ing or frus­trat­ing. Nev­er fun. Not ever, ever fun. It’s one of life’s great mys­ter­ies, real­ly, up there with the pur­pose of life and the secret to happiness.

All in all if you haven’t had your fill of zom­bie sto­ries by now, two things. One, play this game, on PS4 ide­al­ly, because it is one of the best zom­bie things out there. Two, go get help. Seri­ous­ly. Because for you to not believe that this horse has been beat­en to death, res­ur­rec­tion, and death again (zom­bie jokes) requires you to have some sort of obses­sive disorder.