The Last of Us™ Part I Live Bait (BRONZE) Use bricks or bottles to lure an infected into attacking a human #PlayStationTrophy The Last of Us Part I on PS5 doesn’t waste time. It doesn’t ease you into the apocalypse. It throws you into fire. The world ends in a blink—and takes everything Joel loves with it. In just the first 15 minutes, you're not watching a game. You're witnessing a life unravel. Joel’s daughter, Sarah, is shot by a soldier. Not infected. Not a monster. A human being in uniform. It’s not a battle. It’s an execution. And she dies in Joel’s arms. That moment is seared into the heart of every player. No one forgets it. Not because it’s shocking, but because it feels real. You hear Sarah’s last breath. You hear Joel’s world collapse. Twenty years later, Joel is a different man. Hardened. Cold. Detached. The only thing he’s good at now is surviving. That’s when Ellie enters his life—a foul-mouthed, smart, stubborn 14-year-old girl who’s immune to the Cordyceps virus. She’s not looking for a dad. And Joel’s definitely not looking for a daughter. But fate has other plans. Their journey across a crumbling America is brutal. Every stop is another reminder that the old world is gone—and that the new world has no rules. From the collapsing buildings of Boston to the snowy forests of Colorado, Joel and Ellie fight infected, raiders, hunters, and worse—despair. But the hardest part of their journey isn’t the monsters. It’s the bond growing between them. A bond neither of them wants, but both desperately need. One of the game’s most unforgettable moments comes in the winter. Joel is gravely injured, and Ellie is left to survive on her own. She hunts in the snow, desperate to find food, shelter, and a way to save him. That’s when she meets David. At first, David seems helpful. Calm. Almost fatherly. He offers her medicine. Tells her he understands. But the truth? He’s a predator. A manipulative, violent man who sees Ellie not as a child—but as prey. When Ellie realizes who he really is, she fights back. Alone. No Joel. No one coming to save her. The battle between Ellie and David is one of the most intense, terrifying scenes in gaming history. It’s not about power—it’s about survival. It ends in a burning building, with Ellie stabbing him again and again and again, screaming in shock, rage, trauma. It’s not victory. It’s survival at a cost. Then Joel finds her. She’s shaking, covered in blood. He pulls her into his arms and calls her “baby girl”—the same words he once said to Sarah. That’s when it hits. This isn’t just a mission anymore. Ellie is no longer cargo. She’s his daughter now. And Joel will burn the entire world before he loses her too. And that’s exactly what he does. The final chapter is set in the Fireflies’ hospital. They can use Ellie’s immunity to create a cure—but it will kill her. She doesn’t get a say. Joel is told to walk away, to let the doctors perform the procedure. But Joel has already lost one daughter. He’s not losing another. He kills everyone. Not just the guards. Not just the doctors. Everyone. When he reaches the operating room and sees Ellie unconscious on the table, he takes her. Carries her out in his arms, just like he carried Sarah. This time, he refuses to let her die. And then comes the final lie. When Ellie wakes up, she asks what happened. She asks if the Fireflies could make a cure. Joel looks her in the eyes and says no. He tells her there were dozens of immune people like her—and none of them led to a cure. It’s a lie. A beautiful, horrible lie. And Ellie knows it. The game ends not with a victory, but with a question. Ellie looks at Joel and says, “Swear to me that everything you said about the Fireflies is true.” Joel hesitates. Then says, “I swear.” Ellie stares. Then says, “Okay.” That’s it. No music. No final battle. No resolution. Just silence. Two people. One lie. And a relationship built on blood, love, and betrayal. The Last of Us Part I on PS5 doesn’t just retell this story—it enhances it. With new facial animations, improved lighting, and immersive 3D audio, every emotion hits harder. You can see the fear in Ellie’s eyes. The guilt in Joel’s face. The violence, the tenderness, the loss—it’s all turned up to eleven. This isn’t just a remaster. It’s a re-experience. The trauma is clearer. The quiet moments are deeper. The story? Still perfect. Still painful. Still unforgettable. The Last of Us isn’t about zombies. It’s about people. About how far we’ll go to protect the ones we love—even if it means destroying everything else. It forces you to ask hard questions. Was Joel right? Was he selfish? Would you have done the same? That’s why this game still breaks players, even a decade later. It’s not the infected. It’s not the death. It’s the love. Twisted, broken, complicated love. Love that lies. Love that kills. And that’s what makes The Last of Us Part I the most devastating experience on PS5. Not because it’s beautiful—but because it hurts.