Spoiler alert! The following story contains major plot details about the ending of Netflix’s limited series “Zero Day.”

Corrupt tech giants, right-wing blowhards and rampant conspiracy theories. In many ways, “Zero Day” feels like just another day in 2025.

The six-episode Netflix thriller (now streaming) follows a mentally ailing ex-president, Robert Mullen (Robert De Niro), who’s called back into action to lead the Zero Day commission, investigating a crippling cyberattack that targeted the U.S. transportation system and killed more than 3,000 people. The show was co-created by producer Eric Newman (Netflix’s “Narcos”) and veteran journalists Noah Oppenheim and Michael S. Schmidt, who hatched the idea in 2021.

Since then, “so much has happened, it’s hard to keep up,” Newman says. “Every day, we’re confronted with some news story that’s eerily similar to what’s going on in our show. It’s interesting to see some of these things come to pass in the real world. Biden’s cognitive issues were not an issue when we started, among other things.”

In the series finale, it’s revealed that the cyberattack was instigated by Speaker of the House Richard Dreyer (Matthew Modine), who wanted to restore faith in the government by showing the American people how vulnerable they are. Mullen goes on live TV and exposes Dreyer, who led a ring of billionaires and politicians in on the plan, including Mullen’s own congresswoman daughter Alexandra (Lizzy Caplan).

The show ends on a “hopeful” note, Newman says, suggesting that the truth can save a broken nation. Let’s unpack the season with Newman and Oppenheim:

Question: In the series finale, Mullen tells Dreyer, “Every dictator that ever seized power always said it’s just temporary.” Does that feel, in some ways, like a thesis for the show itself?

Noah Oppenheim: We wanted to explore this phenomenon we’re all experiencing, whereby facts are allegedly subject to interpretation and people can choose their own reality as a result. Another theme we wanted to delve into was the lengths to which people in power are willing to go, and the principles they’re willing to betray if they believe they’re acting on behalf of a righteous cause. There’s always the flip side of that: Which rights and freedoms are ordinary people willing to give up to those in power when they’re terrified or afraid?

How early in the writing process did you know that you wanted Dreyer to be the ringleader of this cyberattack power play?

Eric Newman: That came pretty early on. It was very important for us to make the “bad guy” plot a bipartisan effort; it was not one political party or another, but a slightly centrist (effort). It was also important when we heard (the plan) laid out that it actually made sense, like, “Wow, that’s not a terrible idea,” until you get into the means by which it’s accomplished. That’s always the dilemma: Do the ends justify the means? For us, when democracy is at stake, the answer is no.

Why was it important to show someone like Alexandra who, even with seemingly noble intentions, can lose the plot and become complicit in something so terrible?

Oppenheim: One of the things we wanted to explore was the frustration a lot of people feel when they look at dysfunctional government. Dreyer says, “It’s not a rough patch, it’s an emergency.” So you have someone like Alexandra, who looks at what’s happening in the country and feels some extreme measure is needed in order to course correct. It’s important to understand that these power grabs ‒ the ways in which democracy descends into authoritarianism ‒ can sometimes come from a very reasonable place. The impulse is, “Oh, we’re so off course and we need to do something drastic.” That’s what that character represents.

In the final shot of Mullen standing by the water, De Niro’s face suggests so much: regret, worry, or even satisfaction with what he’s done. Did you want to leave his expression ambiguous?

Oppenheim: Bob was really in the trenches with us from Day 1, so he had a pretty strong sense of who George Mullen was, what that character’s journey would look like, and what he would be thinking in that final moment. In terms of the audience’s interpretation, so much of the show is about the ways in which different people can look at the same events and come to radically different conclusions. We see that going on in the real world, and I’m sure people watching will have many different takeaways of different moments in the show.

Mullen’s righthand man, Roger Carlson (Jesse Plemons), was double-dealing with billionaire Robert Lyndon (Clark Gregg), who ultimately ordered a hit on him in Episode 4. Did you ever hesitate to kill Carlson?

Oppenheim: It felt necessary. The show is situated in a world that hopefully feels grounded, and in the real world, there are consequences for one’s actions. Carlson is a guy who’s gotten himself tangled up with so many conflicting loyalties and demands that it’s kind of an impossible bind that he’s in. Watching him try to wrestle his way out of that is one of the drivers of the show, and it felt like he had to pay a price for the choices he made. That being said, it was hard watching him go! He’s such a great character and Jesse’s such a great actor.

Sex Pistols’ “Who Killed Bambi?” is playing on the stereo when Mullen discovers his son’s dead body in a flashback. But it also becomes a haunting motif throughout the series. Why that song?

Newman: In looking for inspiration, we really went in on Adam Curtis’ documentary “Can’t Get You Out of My Head.” He makes these film series looking at power, and (how) there are a lot of things about our national narratives that we choose to forget. One of the songs that he uses is “Who Killed Bambi?” so we thought it was a subtle nod to him. But also it’s a perfect song because it’s very strange. It’s almost a tone poem; you’re not supposed to like it. It’s not a song you kick your shoes off and say, “Hey, play ‘Who Killed Bambi!’” You hear it and go, “What is that?” And that’s what the character’s feeling when he’s hearing it.