The Last Of Us depicts a faux, prospective reality. Humanity is threatened by viral extinction, with vegetative infection that is transmitted by virally admitted spores that mutates organic life into carnivorous vegetation with anatomically verdant appearance. Remaining survivors congregate in protected military quarantines, reluctant to escape the tyrannous grasp of a self-imposed militia for fear of the degenerative mutations that prowl the wastes of a once thriving community. Humanities enveloping desperation and preservation is represented by a child, seemingly immune to the cancerous effects of the infection, and irritable Joel is the man tasked with sustaining her existence across the desolate continent of North America, to extract the advantageous properties that grants her preserved immunity from the contamination, and in the process inducting a monogamous bond that gradually forms between these two motivated transients in one of the most emotive, dynamic narratives conceived to gaming. This premise and its exulted implementation has resulted in lucrative fiscal attainment, broad critical appraisals and the possible vacuous emancipated future of the Uncharted series.

Uncharted is one of the finest, most cinematic creations committed to PlayStation, and the optimum reason for the PS3’s ownership. With sporadic, thematic interludes consisting of Drakes jovial pleasantries and self-deprecating observations, Elena’s pertinent evaluations coupled with her astute journalistic tenacity and Sully’s matured philosophising. But why waste additional conceptions on already established narratives with no tangible application for the sake of exploitation, to a series that’s already reached a natural and contented culmination? You get the impression that any further elongation to Nates singularly eccentric trips would be banal and intrusive, with convoluted progressions and disjointed resonance. We’ve traversed various exotic locations, survived every vehicular transportation incident short of space exploration (and the last thing the series requires is Drake defying gravity), do we really require permanent residence on the next-gen for the sake of consistency, underlying solvency and continuity?

“Is this Drakes inevitable fate?”

Games like Resident Evil haven’t benefited from numerical continuity with concussive endurance mediocrity and displaced intensity. There’s an obvious propensity to extend his adventures for prosperous entitlement, and Sony would certainly appreciate the marketable gesture to increase revenue with the propulsion of an already established series, but a fourth would be a negligent proposal, negating an existing premise for remiss elongation. Naughty Dogs intimate temperament for progressive innovation has seen them construct fresh, promiscuous titles and concluding them before they become maligned by derivative prolongation. Both Crash Bandicoot and Jak & Daxter were trilogies, with Uncharted 3’s symbolic ending implying a natural end to the series. The Last Of Us has refined the municipal narrative of gaming, with an adage to sophisticated calligraphy that resonates with such inverse poignancy that you reflect back on it with retrospective paucity for its aggressive, yet delicate content. With the largely superfluous references to Uncharted 4’s existence or even proposed allusion of Drake’s countenance, where does this leave the Uncharted series?

Of course if it is announced, completely disregard the anecdotal sentiments. Yes I’m a bigoted, Uncharted whore.