Is a cure possible in The Last of Us?
The Fireflies’ Big Swing (and a Miss)
Ah, the million-spore question. The Fireflies certainly thought they could whip up a cure using Ellie’s brain like it was a questionable smoothie ingredient. But let’s be real: their track record was shakier than a Clicker’s depth perception. Even if they’d succeeded, distributing a cure in a world where FedEx’s fastest delivery option is “maybe next decade” feels… optimistic. Imagine trying to FedEx a cure across a continent-sized mushroom graveyard. Tracking number: “LOL good luck.”
Cordyceps: Nature’s Worst App Developer
The fungus in The Last of Us isn’t your average “oops, I forgot to water the plants” mold. It’s a hyper-evolved, world-dominating nightmare that took “go viral” way too literally. In real life, cordyceps hijacks ants’ brains. In the game? It’s like the fungus downloaded a software update called “Human.exe” and went full Silicon Valley disruptor. Can you cure that? Sure, if you can also cure tech bros of saying “synergy.”
- Step 1: Harvest Ellie’s brain (yikes).
- Step 2: ???
- Step 3: Profit (or, more likely, get eaten by a Bloater mid-PowerPoint).
Joel’s DIY Philosophy: “Cure This, Nerds”
Let’s not forget Joel’s contribution to medical science: a lead-based vaccine delivered via shotgun. The Fireflies’ lab? More like a pop-up clinic in a zombie mall. Even if a cure existed, the logistics involve more holes than the plot of a B-movie. Could humanity rebuild? Maybe. But let’s be honest—the real cure was the friends we~~made~~ lost along the way. And also not letting a surgeon with a 1-star Yelp rating poke your surrogate daughter’s cerebellum.
So, is a cure possible? Sure, just like it’s possible to teach a Clicker tap dance. The game’s answer is a masterclass in “lol, no, but wouldn’t it be funny if we pretended?” Sometimes, the only thing scarier than fungal zombies is blind faith in a half-baked science fair project.
Does cordyceps ever get cured in The Last of Us?
Let’s cut to the chase: no one in The Last of Us is whipping up a batch of “Cordyceps-Be-Gone” smoothies. The fungal apocalypse isn’t exactly solved with a coupon code or a sternly worded letter to the CDC. The closest thing to a “cure” is Ellie’s immunity, which is less “Eureka!” and more “Hey, maybe don’t dissect this teenager?”—a suggestion the Fireflies famously ignore. Spoiler: it doesn’t end with a cure. It ends with Joel making morally questionable life choices and a guitar.
But wait, Ellie’s immune! Doesn’t that count?
Ellie’s immunity is like finding a single unburned slice of pizza in a dumpster fire—technically a win, but not exactly useful for the group chat. Scientists could’ve studied her brain to maybe reverse-engineer a cure, but here’s the catch:
- You’d need a functional society (lol).
- You’d need someone willing to play nice with the Fireflies (double lol).
- You’d need Joel to not Joel all over the place (triple lol with a side of spores).
So, no. The cure stays in the “theoretical” aisle next to unicorn meat and affordable housing.
Could cordyceps ever be cured? Let’s ask the fungus.
Imagine cordyceps hosting a TED Talk: “How to Hijack Humanity in 3 Easy Steps!”. The fungus isn’t just thriving—it’s winning. Even if a cure existed, it’d have to outsmart a organism that’s spent millennia perfecting its “zombie puppet” routine. The Last of Us isn’t about saving the world; it’s about surviving a world where the real villain is evolution (and David’s questionable haircut).
By the end, the only thing “cured” is our optimism. The game and show double down on a bleak truth: sometimes, the fungus gets the last laugh. And maybe a few tasteful clicker-themed throw pillows for its spore-covered lair.
Is the disease in The Last of Us possible?
Let’s cut to the chase: no one’s sprouting mushroom hats from their eyeballs anytime soon. The Cordyceps brain invasion in The Last of Us is *chef’s kiss* for apocalyptic drama, but real-world mycology isn’t quite that ambitious. Real Cordyceps fungi *do* hijack insects—ants, mostly—turning them into zombie puppets. But humans? We’re less “fungal puppet show” and more “walking hot tubs” (98.6°F is too toasty for most fungi to throw a rave in your prefrontal cortex).
Science Says: Cordyceps Ain’t Got Time for Your Brain (Yet)
- Body temperature: Human insides are basically a sauna for fungi. Cordyceps prefers its hosts chilled, like a fine insect snack.
- Immune system: Unless your immune system is powered by expired yogurt and bad decisions, it’ll yeet most fungal invaders before they can say “spore.”
- Evolutionary hurdles: Jumping from ants to humans is like asking a goldfish to pilot a helicopter. Technically not impossible, but… gestures vaguely at physics.
But What If the Fungus Mutates? (Cue Dramatic Music)
Sure, climate change is making fungi sweatier (thanks, global warming), and some researchers worry about heat-tolerant mutants. But even if Cordyceps evolved a sudden obsession with human hosts, it’d need a genetic cheat code we’ve never seen. Think: “What if raccoons evolved thumbs and started opening pickle jars?” Possible? Maybe. Likely? Let’s just say you’re safe to keep buying pickles.
Should You Start Stockpiling Shotgun Shells and Canned Beans?
Nah. The CDC isn’t exactly losing sleep over fungal zombie plagues. But if you’re still nervous, maybe stop licking suspicious forest mushrooms? Or at least teach your houseplants to say “good morning” in case they’re plotting something. (They probably are. Side-eyes the ficus.)
Can Ellie’s blood cure?
Can Ellie’s blood cure?
Let’s cut to the chase: Ellie’s blood is either humanity’s last hope or the world’s weirdest smoothie ingredient. After all, this teenager’s veins contain the only known resistance to Cordyceps brain-munching shenanigans. But can we bottle it, slap a “miracle cure” label on it, and call it a day? Well, probably not—unless you’re cool with side effects like *”sudden emotional trauma”* or *”uncontrollable urge to swear at Clickers.”*
The Science(ish) of “Just Stick a Needle in Her, Right?”
If the Fireflies had a LinkedIn, their headline would be ”Ethically Dubious Visionaries”—because their plan to dissect Ellie for a cure was… let’s say, *lacking in finesse*. But here’s the kicker: even if they’d succeeded, how do you mass-produce zombocalypse vaccines from one kid? Picture it:
- Step 1: Harvest Ellie’s blood.
- Step 2: ???
- Step 3: Profit (or collapse society further, whichever comes first).
Science is fun when you ignore logistics!
Let’s not forget Ellie’s immunity is less “clean medical breakthrough” and more ”fungal roommate situation gone weirdly right.” Could her blood cure others? Maybe! But it might also just throw a rave in your bloodstream, inviting every spore in a 10-mile radius. Proceed with caution—and maybe a flamethrower.
TL;DR: Ellie’s blood *could* cure the apocalypse… if you’re willing to ignore 99% of biology, ethics, and Joel’s *very specific* objections. Stay hydrated, folks—preferably with something less existential.
