Saros protagonist's affair and murder spark backlash, players compare it to The Last of Us Part II

Housemarque's Saros has sparked backlash over protagonist Arjun Devraji's actions—infidelity, murdering a friend, attempting reconciliation with his wife—with some players drawing parallels to The Last of Us Part II's divisive narrative.

The moment I closed the game after the true ending, my stomach turned—not from fear, but revulsion. Saros nails its horror atmosphere; the oppressive darkness seeps in gradually, building dread. But the real discomfort doesn't stem from monster design. It comes from Arjun himself and the twisted logic driving his choices.

Cheating on his wife, killing a friend, then trying to win her back—this sequence doesn't paint a tragic hero. It reveals a self-absorbed obsessive. Worse, the game seems to want you to understand him, sympathize with him. This moral vacuum hits harder than any jump scare.

The true ending shows Arjun's wife building a new relationship with a female colleague while he walks away. The setup itself isn't the problem—it's the cheap "redemption" it offers after everything prior. Players spend a dozen hours accompanying a morally bankrupt character through his self-indulgent journey. That experience doesn't land well.

Community discussions are already lumping Saros with The Last of Us Part II. The games have different issues, but player frustration stems from the same source: being forced to accept the writer's worldview. The Last of Us Part II at least demonstrated narrative craft; Saros lacks even that defense.

Some players are questioning Sony's narrative teams' ability to handle story. The concern holds weight—when a horror game's core shifts from horror itself to horror wrapping a morally incoherent story, problems emerge. Housemarque's previous Returnal had an opaque plot, but it didn't trigger visceral disgust.

If you're after horror atmosphere, Saros's opening chapters deliver. But for the full narrative experience, brace yourself—or skip the cutscenes entirely. Real horror should come from the unknown and oppression, not from writers repeatedly trampling a character's moral baseline.