That’s the problem with getting into a serious mindset in The Last Of Us Part II and other linear, narrative-driven games like it: Essentially, there’s a tendency to press on once you’re engaged with a character, story, and mission.

By that reasoning, fleeing isn’t just a loss; it’s a violation of the spirit of the game.

This game depends upon the possibility of falling back for cover, of vanishing into the weeds or behind an overturned car, to allow Ellie to regroup and permit her assailants to lose track of where she is.

It’s not even cowardice, though it can feel like that; it’s just smarts.

There’s only one sure way to survive any dangerous situation in this game, and that’s to remove yourself from the situation.

I’ve been trying to quietly work my way through a truly massive number of WLF members patrolling a neighborhood, and it’s been mostly working, right up to the moment when a guy I didn’t expect to round the corner does exactly that, and sees me lying on the ground in exposed grass?

So it’s immensely satisfying to watch the above firefight, where you sink, seemingly effortlessly, into the flow the game is directing you toward.

You fought the way a smart, isolated survivor like Ellie would, Alex: Taking advantage of your enemies’ mistakes, falling back in the face of unfair odds, and striking smartly from angles of opportunity.

I’m close to the end of the game myself right now—so much for my “guru” status, huh?—and having these lessons forefront in my mind has informed and shaped how I’ve experienced this journey myself.

Ellie and Dina’s relationship not only becomes essential, it adds to the pathos of Ellie’s situation once you learn that she’s known about what Joel did for her this whole time.

(Also, as I’ve mentioned before, I am very slow when it comes to progress; I open every door, wander down every side street, even hop up on every rock, just in case. No one should ever watch me play in real time; you would die of boredom.) So instead, here’s a nice excerpt that shows how I’ve learned to make my way through this game—namely, with a maximum of stealth.

I’ve had full or near-full ammo the past five nights I’ve played, because I’ve only pulled out a gun when it’s absolutely necessary.

If I know The Last Of Us—and unfortunately, having played the first game, I think I do—it’s going to be somewhere both sadder and sweeter than I’m expecting