Warning: Spoilers ahead!

“In Vince we trust” isn’t just a slogan: it’s a way of life for fans who’ve followed this creator/writer/director, Vince Gilligan, through multiple seasons of The X-Files, Breaking Bad, and Better Call Saul. The man simply doesn’t waste your time. Every episode he touches is top-tier entertainment and artistry, period. So when November rolled around and Pluribus dropped, longtime fans showed up with zero doubt. And let me tell you: they were right to be confident.

The show starts with a bang! A message arrives from 600 light years away containing a sequence that, once deciphered, turns out to be instructions for building a new RNA messenger. Naturally, some American scientists in a lab decide to test it on rats. One rat looks dead and a scientist breaks protocol (classic horror movie move), removes her protective glove to check for a pulse, and immediately gets bitten and infected. Then she kisses her colleague. Boom. Infected. The virus spreads through saliva, and from there? It goes…well, viral.

The infected aren’t stumbling around like zombies; they’re strategic. They’re licking office donuts and putting them back in the bakery box. They’re setting up production lines to harvest and propagate the virus, making it airborne, releasing it via chemtrails from airplanes across every nation. It’s methodical. It’s terrifying. And it works. The entire world falls except for 13 people. The rest of the billions are referred to as “the hive,” and they spend most of their time trying to please the 13 uninfected. 

Now here’s what most viewers miss at first: the hive isn’t being nice to the survivors out of some altruistic impulse. They’re accommodating them because emotional freakouts from the uninfected kill hive members. Their prime directive becomes crystal clear: keep the survivors happy until they figure out how to absorb them into the collective.

The title itself is brilliantly chosen. “Pluribus” comes from E Pluribus Unum (“out of many, one”), the original motto of the United States when 13 colonies became one nation. And wouldn’t you know it, there are exactly 13 survivors. Coincidence? Not even close. There’s also something deeply intentional about the structure: 12 disciples and one leader. In this case, that leader appears to be Carol, our protagonist fighting back against assimilation.

But what makes Pluribus genuinely fascinating (the reason we’re all still arguing about it online) is the central question it poses: Would you rather be part of the hive and never experience fear, depression, suffering, war, insecurity, or neuroses again? Or would you cling to free will and individuality like Carol and the other 12?

The online Pluribus fan groups for this show are on fire with debate. Most people side with keeping their individuality, but a significant chunk have been surprisingly vocal about choosing the hive. Their reasoning? Fairly logical and basic: a) no more unnecessary suffering, b) the Earth finally gets to heal from environmental devastation caused by unchecked capitalism, and c) honestly, some people would rather belong to the larger whole than remain isolated as one of the few.

And then there are the big philosophical questions the show leaves unanswered, like where did this virus code originate 600 light years away? Why was it created? Was Earth specifically targeted (Note: it took 600 years for the message to be beamed our way, which is 500 years before humanity discovered radio signals and built radio technology), or was this signal broadcast omnidirectionally, meant for any intelligent species with radio technology to discover, decode, and unwittingly unleash on themselves? Is RNA/DNA really the universal instruction set for all intelligent life everywhere?

Here’s where it gets really wild: Was the planet 600 light years away the origin of this virus? Or were they victims too? An earlier civilization that received the signal, built the virus, got infected, and then continued the cycle by broadcasting it further into the cosmos? That last scenario seems more plausible when you see what the hive on Earth is working toward: building a massive dish to send the signal out again. The hive’s ultimate goal is to infect all intelligent species, everywhere. Forever.

Think about how differently this story could have played out. The signal could have been computer code creating an unstoppable AI that spreads globally through networks. But making it a biological virus that hijacks bodies and extinguishes human individuality? That’s genius. The violation is intimate: every uninfected person has family, friends, lovers, children who are now part of the hive. Those connections become chains. Most survivors can’t bring themselves to oppose the hive because doing so means opposing everyone they’ve ever loved.

But Carol is different.

Carol grew up with religious extremist parents who sent her to an anti-gay conversion program. Her only genuine connection, her lover Helen, was killed during the infection blitz. Carol has no heartstring attachments to the hive. She’s free in a way the other survivors aren’t, and that freedom fuels her rebellion. She’s already experienced groupthink at its worst; she knows what happens when individuality gets crushed under collective ideology.

There’s also this beautiful character detail: Carol’s been writing mass-market fiction to pay the bills, but she’s been dying to write something original, something true. Helen’s death interrupted those plans. Now, fighting the hive becomes Carol’s ultimate act of authorship: choosing her own story instead of letting the collective write it for her.

This show has layers upon layers, and I haven’t even scratched the surface. If you love sci-fi that makes you think, that challenges your assumptions about consciousness, identity, and what it means to be human? Pluribus delivers that and more to susceptible synapsis throughout the universe.