Rhea Seehorn has had a challenging year. Having long had a reputation as a great underappreciated talent, she has now seen that all change thanks to Pluribus. The series about one of the few people on Earth who hasn't been affected by the alien virus has not only been critically acclaimed but has also become Apple TV's most-watched show. And Seehorn is at the center of it all. However, she has more pressing concerns today.

"You have to tell me how to break the code," she pleads, before even saying hello. "I'm an amateur crossword solver, but I can't break the Guardian crossword. I can't break it, and I need to figure out what's wrong."

If you've seen Pluribus, in which she plays a brusque woman forced to save the world against her will, Seehorn's personal affability might surprise you. She sits forward, bright-eyed and alert, fully engaged.

"I love doing the show," she says. "It's been the most challenging thing I've ever done, and the most rewarding. People come up to me and want to talk about what the show makes them feel and what thoughts it provokes. It's absolutely thrilling."

But perhaps it shouldn't be surprising. Pluribus is a show that deliberately takes its time revealing the grand secret at its center. Seehorn plays Carol Sturrock, who discovers she's not affected by the alien virus that has impacted the global population. While they all act as a hive mind—peacefully, or disturbingly, without question, in a happy state—she discovers she's meant to restore individuality to the world. To complicate matters, it seems everyone is particularly attuned to her behavior... perhaps because millions of people die when she gets angry.

Despite creator Vince Gilligan saying it's partly autobiographical (it's hard to see it as anything other than a reaction to Breaking Bad's subsequent fame and all the flattery that comes with it), it's also remarkably universal. It's a high-concept show that has sparked fanatical fervor online, to a level not seen since Lost. This fervor is something Seehorn respectfully prefers not to explore.

"I'm too scared to look online," she reveals. "My friends tell me, even on social media, never scroll down. I know there'll eventually be a comment that just says, "She's an ugly idiot who should never be on screen again" and then I just want to go into a week of playing with Lego sets."

Oddly, a large discourse online revolves around whether Carol should give up and enjoy the simple pleasure of mind control. Seehorn can't see the appeal.

"When I think about happiness and joy, it's always about surprise," she says. "Being surprised by others' achievements. But in that world, there are no new books. No new art. There'll never be a belly laugh, because no one can surprise you. I'll never solve a crossword again, because I already know all the answers, because I created the crossword."

Seehorn's story of taking on the role of Pluribus has been told before, but it speaks volumes. Gilligan initially imagined the main character as male, but after seeing her in action on Better Call Saul, where she played Kim Wexler, he changed the character's gender to work with her. Seehorn has been working since the 1990s, but this is her first series lead. Those who know her understand the pressure it puts her under.

"I watch Pluribus and my heart aches thinking about how much time Rhea must have spent physically and emotionally in a difficult state," says Bob Odenkirk, her Better Call Saul co-star. "When we did Saul, we all lived together with Patrick Fabian, and we all helped each other get through the show. I wonder how she manages to decompress."

Seehorn laughs when I mention this. "It's funny that he asked that question, because he called me after watching a few episodes to check in," she says. "Maybe he just wanted me to laugh at myself, because Bob saw my little squirrel brain breaking down. There are art projects at home. There's a Lego set, a jigsaw puzzle, some embroidery, some painting, hundreds of almost-completed crosswords."

Does she miss living with her co-stars? "People thought it was weird," she answers. "Bob started it. He called Patrick and me after the first season and was, "You think we should just live together?" And I was, "Actually, yes." Our partners and spouses all know each other and are friends, and none of us are suspicious. And it can be mentally exhausting to come home alone."

For Pluribus, which is shot in Albuquerque, she continued the tradition of moving in with the hair department head, Trish Almeida, during filming. "It lasted longer to film, and it was challenging. The anger explosions, or the suppression of anger in moments when Carol can't show those feelings. A lot of time alone, sometimes just having coffee with someone can make your week."

The season finale of the first season airs on Christmas Day, and, without spoilers, it ends on such an intriguing cliffhanger that the next episodes can't come soon enough. While they are indeed coming—Apple knows a good thing when it sees it—Seehorn can't name an exact date.

"They're in the writer's room now," Gilligan says, and his team. "But I don't have a timeline for when they'll finish that process."

That's when I emit a small disappointed groan, on which Seehorn responds with reassuring sagacity. "I don't think anyone's sitting around saying, "Let's just wait,"" she says with a smile. "I know my writers. They're very attentive. Plus, the scope of this show is huge. Think of the episodes where everyone disappears. We're a working city. Cars were always moving. They all have to be removed."

But does she know what's in store for Carol next? "I know the same as on Better Call Saul—one script at a time," she says. "I never know where it's going. I don't know what happens in the next season. There are some big things that happen in the finale. And I have to tell you, I have no idea in the world where they're going."