Fix — Violetta Abby Winters

Suddenly, the monster is a daughter. The brute is an orphan. Abby’s story is a brutal inversion of Joel’s. Where Joel lost a daughter (Sarah) and damned humanity to save a surrogate daughter (Ellie), Abby lost a father (Jerry) and damned her own soul to avenge him. The genius of The Last of Us Part II is the "Seattle Day 1" switch. Just as the narrative reaches a fever pitch—Ellie is hunting Abby down—the game resets. You are back to square one, controlling the villain.

Joel was a hero to Ellie and a monster to the Fireflies. Abby was a monster to Ellie and a hero to Lev. She asks a question we don’t want to answer: If someone killed your father to save a stranger, wouldn’t you pick up the club? The Legacy As we look toward the future (be it The Last of Us Part III or the HBO adaptation), Abby stands as a landmark character. She proved that video games can make you hate a character, live as them, and—perhaps—forgive them.

When players first take control of Abby Winters in The Last of Us Part II , the feeling is almost universally visceral: disgust. After the shocking, brutal death of Joel Miller—the beloved protagonist of the first game—being forced to walk a mile in his killer’s boots felt like a cruel joke by developer Naughty Dog. violetta abby winters

That purpose is revealed in the game’s devastating prologue: her father was the surgeon Joel murdered to save Ellie at the end of the first game.

The brutal irony is that killing Joel didn’t fix her. She still had nightmares of her father’s body. It wasn’t until she saved Lev—a helpless child—that the nightmares stopped. She didn't need revenge; she needed purpose. The game’s final confrontation on the beach is not a boss fight; it is a study in exhaustion. Ellie, starved and bleeding, forces a crucified and emaciated Abby into a knife fight. There are no acrobatics. Just two people who have lost everything: their friends, their lovers, their fingers, and their innocence. Suddenly, the monster is a daughter

Her arc mirrors Joel’s redemption arc from the first game. Abby finds her "Ellie" in two Lev and Yara, siblings from the enemy Seraphite cult. By saving these children, Abby betrays her own faction (the WLF). She risks everything for two people she barely knows, not out of a strategic goal, but out of guilt and a desperate need to do something right after the hollow victory of killing Joel.

Abby refuses to fight. She says, "I’m not doing this." She has already won her internal war. She let Ellie live twice (at the lodge and at the theater). In the end, it is Ellie who forces the fight, and Abby who fights back only to protect Lev. Where Joel lost a daughter (Sarah) and damned

But if you finish her half of the game and still feel pure hatred, Naughty Dog would argue you have missed the point. In a world ravaged by a fungal apocalypse, there are no "good guys" or "villains." There are only people.

Suddenly, the monster is a daughter. The brute is an orphan. Abby’s story is a brutal inversion of Joel’s. Where Joel lost a daughter (Sarah) and damned humanity to save a surrogate daughter (Ellie), Abby lost a father (Jerry) and damned her own soul to avenge him. The genius of The Last of Us Part II is the "Seattle Day 1" switch. Just as the narrative reaches a fever pitch—Ellie is hunting Abby down—the game resets. You are back to square one, controlling the villain.

Joel was a hero to Ellie and a monster to the Fireflies. Abby was a monster to Ellie and a hero to Lev. She asks a question we don’t want to answer: If someone killed your father to save a stranger, wouldn’t you pick up the club? The Legacy As we look toward the future (be it The Last of Us Part III or the HBO adaptation), Abby stands as a landmark character. She proved that video games can make you hate a character, live as them, and—perhaps—forgive them.

When players first take control of Abby Winters in The Last of Us Part II , the feeling is almost universally visceral: disgust. After the shocking, brutal death of Joel Miller—the beloved protagonist of the first game—being forced to walk a mile in his killer’s boots felt like a cruel joke by developer Naughty Dog.

That purpose is revealed in the game’s devastating prologue: her father was the surgeon Joel murdered to save Ellie at the end of the first game.

The brutal irony is that killing Joel didn’t fix her. She still had nightmares of her father’s body. It wasn’t until she saved Lev—a helpless child—that the nightmares stopped. She didn't need revenge; she needed purpose. The game’s final confrontation on the beach is not a boss fight; it is a study in exhaustion. Ellie, starved and bleeding, forces a crucified and emaciated Abby into a knife fight. There are no acrobatics. Just two people who have lost everything: their friends, their lovers, their fingers, and their innocence.

Her arc mirrors Joel’s redemption arc from the first game. Abby finds her "Ellie" in two Lev and Yara, siblings from the enemy Seraphite cult. By saving these children, Abby betrays her own faction (the WLF). She risks everything for two people she barely knows, not out of a strategic goal, but out of guilt and a desperate need to do something right after the hollow victory of killing Joel.

Abby refuses to fight. She says, "I’m not doing this." She has already won her internal war. She let Ellie live twice (at the lodge and at the theater). In the end, it is Ellie who forces the fight, and Abby who fights back only to protect Lev.

But if you finish her half of the game and still feel pure hatred, Naughty Dog would argue you have missed the point. In a world ravaged by a fungal apocalypse, there are no "good guys" or "villains." There are only people.