Love, loss, and fungus. Let’s see what kind of survivor you really are.
The world has ended, but people haven’t. Take this Last of Us quiz to find out which survivor’s heart beats like yours. Are you Joel, carrying grief like a shield? Ellie, fighting for meaning in the ruins? Abby, driven by purpose even when it hurts? Or maybe Dina, proof that warmth can survive even in the apocalypse?
The Last of Us is a complex story about love, betrayal, revenge, grief, and moral decay in a world that was dying longe before the apocalypse even arrived. It's not about the monsters out there. It's about the monsters we become when we get lost in a cycle of violence. This personality quiz digs into your own relationship to loyalty and loss, and the choices that define you when everything else is gone.
Image sourced from The Last of Us (© HBO / Warner Bros. Discovery). Used under fair use.
When everything falls apart, what’s your first instinct?
• Start planning. There’s always a next move if you stay calm.
• immediate reaction: get the people you love to safety. Thinking and planning comes later.
• Look for the silver lining and try to lift everyone’s spirits. You focus on keeping morale up.
• Shut down emotionally and just keep moving. Feelings can wait.
• Observe first while others take the lead. There’s always an angle if you pay attention.
What kind of leader are you?
• Reluctant. You take charge only when no one else will.
• Strategic. You know how to see the big picture, and you can make the hard decisions.
• Nurturing. You lead by example and make people feel seen.
• Controlling. If you’re not in charge, everything will fall to pieces.
• Idealistic. You want people to follow you because they believe in you, not because they fear you.
If you had the chance to rebuild the world, what would your community look like?
• A small, peaceful town with gardens, schools, and kids playing in the streets.
• A well-organized place where everyone pulls their weight and no one goes hungry or scared.
• A creative haven where people share food, play music, and remember what joy feels like.
• A quiet cabin community that provides solitude and independence.
• A strong, close-knit group that’s trained, armed, and ready for anything that comes your way.
How do you show love?
• Acts of service. You fix things, build things, protect things.
• Words of affirmation. You remind people they matter.
• Physical affection. It’s how you stay grounded.
• Quiet loyalty. You don’t say much, but you always show up.
• Tough love. Sometimes the truth hurts, but you give it because it's needed.
Your totally platonic friend just rigged up an entire mall full of special surprises for you. How do you react?
• You grin the whole time, soaking up every second of joy like you haven’t felt it in years.
• You joke about how impractical it is, but secretly it means the world to you.
• You’re suspicious at first, then overwhelmed by how much thought went into it.
• You don’t do sentimentality, but you stay because you can tell it matters to them.
• You play it cool, but it reminds you that there is still beauty in the world.
What scares you the most?
• Losing the people you love.
• Becoming the kind of person you hate.
• Dying without meaning or purpose.
• Being powerless or dependent on others.
• Living without love or beauty.
Choose your favorite silver lining in the post-apocalyptic world.
• The death of capitalism. You no longer have to work a stupid little job.
• No more spam texts. In fact, no more cell phones at all.
• The sense of purpose. Every day truly means something.
• The freedom. No rules, no expectations. You can do whatever you want and be whoever you want.
• The intimacy. There are no distractions. You see the people with you for who they really are, and they see you.
The military just swept up everyone in your little town. But they missed you. What do you do?
• Go after them. You need to help your neighbors if you can.
• Stay hidden, gather supplies, and turn the town into your own personal fortress.
• Search for other survivors who were missed and band together.
• Pack a bag and head out immediately. You're not waiting for rescue (or something worse) to find you.
• Get on the radio and call for other survivors. Turn your town into a beacon, and form a new community.
What would you miss most about the old world?
• The relative luxury and ease of it all. Drinking at a bar, getting takeout, and sleeping in a warm bed.
• The illusion of safety. Knowing tomorrow was guaranteed.
• Having a job to do and a plan to follow every day. No guessing, no chaos, just order.
• Cleanliness. Hot showers, clean sheets, and new clothes.
• Leisure time. Video games, book, and movies, with no worries beyond work and rent.
Which theme of The Last of Us resonates most with you?
• How love can save you or ruin you, and most of the time it’s both.
• Even when everything falls apart, kindness and love still matter. Even at the very end of it all.
• The blurred line between survival and morality. How what's right and what's necessary are often different things.
• How grief reshapes people, for better or worse.
• That hope is a choice, and it's one you have to make every day.
You’ve been through enough to know that survival means making impossible choices. You care deeply, but you protect that softness behind layers of pragmatism and dry humor. People rely on you because you get things done, even when it costs you. You don’t trust easily, yet when you love someone, it’s absolute. You’re proof that even the hardest people still have something tender left inside.
You’re defiant, curious, and shaped by loss in ways you rarely talk about. You meet danger with sarcasm, and your loyalty comes with a kind of fierce stubbornness. You want connection, but you hate being vulnerable enough to ask for it. People underestimate you, which always makes it more satisfying when you prove them wrong. Beneath it all, you still believe there’s something worth saving in this world.
You’ve learned to adapt in a world that doesn’t care about fairness. Your strength isn’t loud, but it’s steady. You know when to fight, when to cut your losses, and when to take one last risk because it feels like the right thing to do. People see you as tough, but that’s just the version of you that keeps the rest of you alive. You may not always say it, but loyalty and hope mean everything to you.
You want to believe in something better, even when experience tells you not to. You’ve seen how cruelty changes people, and you refuse to let it change you too. You’re drawn to purpose, but the world keeps testing how far you’ll go to hold on to it. You’re a realist with a hopeful streak, which is rarer than it sounds. Deep down, you’re still trying to find a peace that feels real.
You carry responsibility like a second skin. You’ve made choices that keep you up at night, but you know someone had to make them. You’re pragmatic, persuasive, and constantly balancing what’s right against what’s necessary. People think you’re cold, but that’s just what leadership looks like when the stakes are human lives. You care more than anyone will ever really know.
You don’t like people, but you’ll move mountains for the ones you let in. Independence is your armor, and competence is your language of love. You prepare for the worst because expecting disappointment has kept you alive this long. Still, you’re not as cynical as you pretend to be. You just need proof that someone can love you without needing to fix you first.
You believe that even in the worst situations, beauty and tenderness still matter. You crave connection, but you also crave meaning. You see the good in people even when they don’t see it in themselves, and sometimes that costs you. Your optimism isn’t naïve, it’s brave. You’d rather live fully and risk heartbreak than shut yourself off from feeling at all.
You have a gift for reading people and telling them exactly what they want to hear. Beneath your charm is a hunger for control that you don’t always like to acknowledge. You think strength is earned through dominance, but that belief isolates you more than it empowers you. You’re capable of empathy, but only when it serves you. Deep down, you want to be understood, but you fear what that would take.
You’ve built yourself around purpose and discipline because the chaos of the world once broke you. You chase control in a world that refuses to give it, and you mistake strength for safety. You’re loyal to the people you love, but you struggle to forgive, especially yourself. Underneath your armor is someone who still wants to believe in redemption. You’re proof that survival doesn’t always mean peace.
You’re grounded, warm, and intuitive enough to read a room before anyone speaks. You show your love in quiet, practical ways, and you’d rather offer comfort than control. You know how to hold space for other people’s storms without losing yourself in them. You want stability, but you’re not afraid of the mess that comes with real love. You show others that gentleness can be just as powerful as grit.
