Spoiler alert: I’m not making it out of all of them alive, but at least I’d go down dramatically.
- “Plaything” (ep. 4)
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Survival Likelihood: 9/10
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from growing up with “Webkinz” and “The Sims” it’s that I can handle cute little digital creatures, even if they’re slightly murderous?
“Plaything” follows a guy named Cameron, who gets wrapped up in a 90s video game called “Thronglets,” a life simulation where you raise these oddly adorable creatures with zero goals, rules or conflict. Sounds relaxing, right? Until Cameron starts microdosing LSD and communicating with them telepathically.
Would I survive this episode? Absolutely.
Not because I’d solve the mystery or anything — absolutely not.
But because I wouldn’t engage in the first place.
I would’ve tapped out the moment I realized the Thronglets were talking back to me.
I’m all for nurturing virtual pets, but if my Tamagotchi ever looked me in the eye and said “help us,” I’d launch it into a lake and go outside to touch some grass.
Also I wouldn’t let random guys named Lump crash on my couch (rookie mistake), and I certainly wouldn’t play video games while tripping. So my chances are already better than Cameron’s.
Let’s be real, I wouldn’t have even written the review. I’d call in sick and never open that floppy disk again.
My survival strategy? Shut it down. Log off. Take a nap.
If I’ve learned anything from Black Mirror, it’s that curiosity does in fact kill the cat (and probably uploads your consciousness into a cursed motherboard while it’s at it).
- “Bête Noire” (Ep. 2)
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Survival Likelihood: 8.5/10
If there’s one thing I don’t need in my life, it’s some girl from high school showing up years later and gaslighting me across realities.
“Bête Noire” starts off pretty normal.
Maria works for a chocolate company. Suddenly a woman named Verity shows up during a product test, all like, “Hey! Remember me?”
And Maria’s like, “…not really?”
Fast forward a few weird glitches in the matrix later and suddenly Maria’s entire life is getting revised. She’s losing track of things, her work’s getting messed with, and she’s slowly realizing: this isn’t just gaslighting, it’s full-blown multiverse revenge.
Turns out Verity built a literal quantum computer with a necklace that lets her rewrite reality just to ruin Maria’s life as payback for high school bullying.
Like, girl… what about therapy?
Journaling?
A FaceTime with your inner child?
No?
Okay, world domination it is.
Now, would I survive? Oh, 100%. Not because I’m particularly clever or tech-savvy.
I just don’t think anyone from high school cares enough to build a reality-shifting AI to ruin my life. Things change, people grow and at a certain point, you’ve got to let the teenage drama go.
Who even has the time to code an entire quantum revenge plot when you could literally choose anything else?
Fame? Fortune? Inner peace? But no, Verity chose to be petty.
The concept of this episode was super cool, don’t get me wrong — the chocolate job, the glitchy memory stuff, the slow unraveling of reality? Loved it.
But once it became clear it was just high school drama on a multiverse scale, I kind of saw the ending coming. The moral of the story? Maybe just… heal. Not hijack timelines.
- “Hotel Reverie” (Ep. 3)
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Survival Likelihood: 7/10
“Hotel Reverie” centers on Brandy Friday, a Hollywood star who agrees to take part in an immersive remake of a vintage romance film, only this time, it’s not just acting. Her consciousness is fully uploaded into the movie using advanced AI technology, allowing her to literally live inside the story.
At first, it feels like a dream role. The world is beautifully crafted, charmingly retro and just real enough to believe.
Brandy stars opposite Dorothy Chambers, a character who begins to gain self-awareness as the simulation progresses. When a technical malfunction occurs, time inside the simulation freezes, leaving only Brandy and Dorothy awake.
Trapped in a dreamy, suspended version of reality, the two spend what feels like forever together, deepening their connection.
But of course, in true Black Mirror fashion, it can’t last.
The simulation eventually reboots. Time resets. Dorothy forgets everything and Brandy is pulled back into the real world, left haunted by everything they shared.
Months later, a bittersweet message from an AI version of Dorothy arrives, offering a gentle but gut-wrenching reminder: “You have all the time in the world.”
Would I survive? Sure, technically.
But emotionally? Not a chance.
The episode hits hard. Not in a dramatic, heart-racing way, but in that quiet, aching way that sticks with you.
Watching someone lose something so beautiful and then be forced to move on like it never happened? That’s the kind of heartbreak that’s hard to shake, even if you can’t personally relate. It lingers.
- “Common People” (ep. 1)
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Survival Likelihood: 6/10
“Common People” is one of those episodes that starts with a medical emergency and quickly spirals into a full-blown ethical tech meltdown.
It follows Mike, a devoted husband who turns to a neural life-support system called “Rivermind” when his wife Amanda suffers a near-fatal medical crisis. This futuristic program promises to keep her consciousness alive, which, on paper, sounds like a miracle.
In reality? It’s giving Terms & Conditions you definitely didn’t read.
At first, it feels like he made the right choice. Amanda’s alive, sort of. But then the limitations of the “basic” plan start kicking in — and I mean basic.
There’s a moment where Amanda starts glitching mid-conversation and straight-up spews ads out of her mouth because the couple wasn’t able to upgrade to the premium plan.
Imagine talking to your spouse and they suddenly blurt out “Try MapleO’s — the breakfast cereal of the future!” before going back to their life-threatening trauma.
It’s tragic, it’s horrifying… but it’s also objectively hilarious. Late-stage capitalism really said: till death, or sponsored content, do us part.
Would I survive this one? I think so.
However, I’d spend the entire time spiraling over every decision. It’s not a survival-of-the-fittest episode; it’s a survival-of-your-sanity kind of story.
You’re constantly asking yourself, “Would I do this for someone I love?” or worse: “Would I want someone to do this to me?”
This episode doesn’t scare you with jump scares or dramatic twists, it just leaves you sitting in your feelings, wondering what it means to keep someone alive, and at what cost.
And let me tell you… that kind of emotional weight hits different.
- “Eulogy” (ep. 5)
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Survival Likelihood: 5/10
This one caught me off guard.
At first glance, “Eulogy” seems like a meditation on memory: a man contributing photos of his ex-girlfriend to her digital memorial. But as he steps deeper into the memories with the help of a virtual guide, it becomes way more than a sad nostalgia scroll.
The memories aren’t sweet. They’re petty, bitter, full of regret and slowly, you realize the tech isn’t just recreating Carol’s past, it’s forcing Phillip to face the truth of it.
There’s cheating. A ruined proposal. A daughter he never knew existed. And one final undeveloped photo that delivers an emotional punch straight to the gut.
Would I survive? Not a chance — because nostalgia is my worst enemy.
I’m the kind of person who can’t even think about graduating from Penn State without spiraling, so stepping into old memories? Yeah, I’d be emotionally wrecked.
This episode isn’t just sad — it’s quietly heartbreaking in the way that sneaks up on you.
The tech in “Eulogy” forces you to confront your past — not just the good parts, but the messy, bitter, uncomfortable ones too. And for someone who clings to memories a little too tightly? That’s a recipe for disaster.
I wouldn’t just visit old moments, I’d live there. And cry there. And maybe try to rewrite history one memory at a time.
This episode lingers, not because it’s loud, but because it knows how painful it is to look back. And that’s exactly why it got under my skin.
- “USS Callister: Into infinity” (ep. 6)
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Survival Likelihood: 0/10
This one had everything: illegal cloning, digital pirates, rogue microtransactions and space drama so intense it made Among Us look like kindergarten.
In this sequel to the original “USS Callister” episode, the crew is now free from Robert Daly… kind of. They’re stuck in the online game “Infinity,” trying to survive players and corporate surveillance while planning a digital jailbreak.
There’s server hacks, clone assassinations and a literal self-destruct countdown.
Meanwhile, Nanette’s IRL counterpart is pulled into the chaos as her in-game avatar is forced to make a near-impossible choice: join with her real body or risk everything to save her crew.
It’s wild, smart and way too fast-paced for me to survive more than three minutes.
Would I make it? Not a chance.
I’d be the one getting deleted in the background while trying to figure out how to open the map. Even the weapons and dramatic lighting wouldn’t save me. This episode requires strategy, stealth and emotional resilience — none of which I bring to the table.
Let’s just say if I ever found myself uploaded into a high-stakes digital space server run by vengeful gamers… I’m pressing exit game and praying for a respawn IRL.
Season 7 gave us everything: digital grief spirals, corrupted childhood games, rogue coworkers, emotional time loops and AI love stories with no off switch.
It reminded us that technology isn’t just about innovation. It’s about the emotions we pack into it. The obsessions. The regrets. The what-ifs.
Would I survive most of these episodes? Barely.
But emotionally? I was fried by episode two.
One thing’s for sure: I’ll never look at a nostalgic photo, a childhood game or a freemium app the same way again.
And if a pop-up ever asks me to “upload my consciousness to the cloud”? No thank you. I’ve seen Black Mirror. I know how that ends.