Dimension W – 10

I was looking forward to watching Mira (with the help of the siblings) protect the unconscious Kyouma from the killbot, and she doesn’t disappoint, kicking some serious ass without even ripping her schoolgirl outfit. However, a blow from the robot sends her flying towards the void.

Unable to stop her momentum, she takes solace in knowing she was able to save Kyouma. But she isn’t shut down for more than a couple seconds, as now-awake Kyouma reels her out of the nothingness, then rewards her with a gentle head-pat, (channeling Working!!’s “Katanashi”). The kid did good!

From there, Dimension W, so in love with all of the characters it brought to the island, and all the various clashing objectives, gets a little over-stuffed, overwhelming, and unfocused, reminding us of the similarly kitchen-sink Haunted Mansion mess back in week four.

Don’t get me wrong: the idea of someone opposed to Prince Salva’s plan to recover the uber-coil hiring KK to eliminate anyone who gets near Ground Zero is a good, basic place to start, and I appreciate the fact that hiring a bunch of unpredictable indie mercs to do a job backfired badly on the arrogant prince like it should have.

But holy crap there’s a lot that happens really fast with no time to process any of it. Loo meets up with Kyouma and Mira. KK and the zombified Yuri go after Loo and the others. Loser and Ellie are confronted by Jason Chrysler. KK lures everyone to a room with an obviously collapsable floor, which eveyone then walks out on to and let it collapse below them.

I’m not done: KK has rigged an awful lot of stuff, and really did his homework; I know this because he talks at length about all of it while dealing with Kyouma & Co. He even “raised” the now-soulless (and two-headed) body of Kyouma’s old Grendel comrade Doug to fight him.

KK also sets up a mean remix of “Danse Macabre” (actually a pretty nice choice considering the talk of souls) to accompany the battle. Too bad the sound mixers messed up: the action and dialogue drown out music that should be on the same level. It’s part and parcel of the problem with the middle two-thirds of the episode: it’s shouting everything without caring if anyone’s listening.

Pacing issues abound: the fierce immediacy of the battle with Doug and KK is undone by Kyouma retreating into his head to regain more memories, building on his recent realization Adreastea were mostly concerned with space development through the perfection of a transporter system, much-maligned by horrible accidents but pressed forward by Seaymeyer. Oh yeah, that guy. Not enough villains!

Anywho, the episode ends strongly, with KK, who had been making others fight for him from afar, finally gets a taste of close-quarters combat with Kyouma. Kyouma spins into a rage after KK wastes Loo (or rather, Loo self-destructs before KK can shoot him in the head). The death hits close to home as Kyouma remembers his headless bride after her accident, is fully prepared to kill KK.

But he’s held back. At first, he thinks its Miyabi; always upbeat, optimistic, gentle and kind, not wanting Kyouma to lose anymore of his soul by murdering someone needlessly. But it’s not Miyabi, it’s Mira, who’s the same size and sounds very similar. Call it Mira saving Kyouma from himself, after saving him from that killbot (giving the episode’s bookends a nice symmetry).

The final twist at the end has a second Loo appear, apologizing for not telling Kyouma he has more than one body. I’m not sure why KK isn’t using his free hand to inject Kyouma with a lethal serum, but it looks like the situation is under control.

I’m glad Loo isn’t dead, but also miffed the show passed on the opportunity to whittle down the huge cast at least a little. I’m worried the last two episodes will continue the trend of vomiting out more and more plot and metaphysical technobabble. Prove me wrong, DW.

Hai to Gensou no Grimgar – 10

Haru’s party takes to the mines, and their skills and teamwork shine in their efficient dispatching of the first level’s lesser kobolds, which aren’t really much tougher than gobs. Sure, Ranta spends a bit too long fighting one-on-one without asking for help, which irks Haru, but so far so good!

Actually, as they trek deeper into the mines, Ranta goes off about how he’s a badass dark knight who doesn’t subscribe to ideals or morals they way everyone else does, because at the end of the day no one can escape death’s cold embrace, or something. Like most Rantaness, it’s irritating, butnot harmful to the party.

Still, Haru simply doesn’t like it. The lack of respect for the dead kobolds, all the talk about being amoral and beholden to no one, saying it’s lame when they back out of the mine after a good day’s hunting. Ranta is a skilled warrior, Haru can’t deny; but he remains as bad a team member as ever.

It doesn’t help Ranta that everyone else is “on board” the way Haru is; considering the party to be more than just a collection of soldiers doing their jobs, but a family of people who care about each other. Ranta doesn’t seem to care, or at least is always talking about how he doesn’t.

As leader, Haru knows he has to at least try to address this, as much for himself as anything. He thinks Manato would have similarly tried to do something as the leader, though he doesn’t know what. In fact, he remembers Manato didn’t seem to like Ranta much either.

In his one-on-one talk with Ranta that night, he learns Ranta went to the trouble to take a kobold on alone because he’s preparing for the very real possibility he’ll have to, say if the rest of the party is injured or busy with other foes. It’s a smart move, but he did it without saying anything. “Doing things his way” means not communicating, just acting.

Haru wants to communicate, but isn’t able to get remotely all of what he wants to say out, so it’s almost irrelevant. Ranta also says the “I’m not here to make friends” speech to Haru, which has got to hurt because Haru has been operating under the assumption that they are all friends.

Not to mention just because Ranta says he doesn’t want to be “pretend friends” with the party, doesn’t mean that he isn’t friends. After all, they consider him more than just a party comrade, and Ranta is well-known for saying overly-harsh things he may not mean.

I liked the contrast between Ranta stalking off and Haru waking up under a blanket provided by Yume, who then practice knife-throwing. His exchange with Yume—and their exchange with Moguzo—is the day to Ranta’s night. But maybe, Haru thinks, there’s simply no way around that.

The clash with Ranta is nothing particularly new, but it’s at least not the whole story: there’s also the fact that Mary is doing pretty well in the mines despite her past trauma there, and Haru is thankful that everyone (save Ranta) has learned valuable new skills in order to help each other out.

Before long, they’re able to reach the lower levels of the mines, where they’re surprised to find subterranean crops and livestock. Here, Haru executes his plan going forward with Ranta in miniature: when Ranta points his sword at a rat mole-like animal, Haru backs off, accepting Ranta’s line of thinking, and moves on.

Confronting him on every little thing or trying to bend him to his way of thinking is a waste of time, effort, and focus. Better to let him be who he is. Haru has to realize he’s not a bad leader just because one of this comrades isn’t the best fit.

Of course, Ranta’s carelessness with his surroundings end up sounding the alarm for the kobolds, and the same giant kobold that Mary’s team failed to defeat makes its appearance.

As Mary goes through any number of emotions—shock, fear, guilt, regret, panic—I was hoping Haru’s hand would come down on her shoulder to calm her. It doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean Mary’s alone in this.

Considering they haven’t gone over how to tackle a beast like that yet, I’d think retreat would be the best option, though that might not be possible now. But if the party sticks together, and Mary watches her magic level, things can and will be different.

Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans – 23

Commander Carta Issue is ready to accept the consequences for her latest humiliating failure at the hands of Tekkadan, but Lord Iznario says she’s being given one last shot to redeem her pride honor. It’s thanks to an unlikely benefactor: McGillis himself, whom Carta can’t help but blush before when they meet on the stairs.

Carta may believe herself a worthless, humiliating failure, but she forgets that when she and McGillis were kids, she always treated him as an equal, despite everyone around them saying they weren’t because of Gill’s low parentage. All that mattered to Carta was that McGillis was a Fareed, and he should always stand proud and strong.

Now McGillis is simply asking her to do the same, and she will. But who knows the true reasons he wants her to fight Tekkadan once more, and how that coming battle fits into his grand plan to reform Gjallarhorn.

As the Edmonton Express proceeds unabated, Merribit is increasingly concerned that the orphans of Tekkadan, including Orga, have gone mad in their thirst for revenge, and that it can’t possibly end well. But those same kids she wants to keep out of the fight tell her to back off. They’re fighting for Biscuit, and they will not be denied.

If only Gaelio could fight for his dead friend Ein. We see the toll Ein’s transformation into essentially a half-Gundam takes on Gaelio. Just as the Tekkadan kids are being metaphorically hardened into killers (which Merribit hates), Ein has been literally weaponized. He no longer has the luxury of choice, nor does he want it; he is still “alive” to avenge Crank and his other fallen comrades.

I never thought I’d be comparing Gaelio and Merribit, but here we are: both are appalled and scared of the sudden turn things have taken, but I don’t think either will be able to resist the force of the currents they’re caught up in.

Even more unsettling is that Carta is, on some level, being thrown to the wolves by McGillis, with Gaelio and Ein sure to follow. Carta doesn’t realize the extent to which killing Biscuit radicalized Tekkadan.

She also quite wrongly assumes their patience and willingness to have a good old-fashioned 3-on-3 duel to decide whether they may pass or whether they hand over Makanai and Kudelia. Mika, in particular, isn’t having it. Why should they? Chivalry in this situation doesn’t do them a damn bit of good.

Carta magnanimously gives Tekkadan 30 minutes to prepare, but Mika doesn’t need one. He rushes Carta and curb-stomps her two McGillis lookalikes. He doesn’t just disable their suits, he kills them, and then starts mercilessly whaling on an overwhelmed Carta. Even Lafter gets a little squemish at the sight of the carnage.

She rants about how this can’t be and who she is, but Mika doesn’t care about any of that, and neither do the kids who are watching (and won’t let Merribit send them away). Carta and Gjallarhorn are the enemy, and they’re in the way, so they’ll get crushed.

For a few moments, Mika is the bully, the antagonist in this fight, and Carta is like a lamb in the snow I’m feeling sorry for, even though she shouldn’t have expected anything else. It was a little hard to watch.

A weeping, utterly defeated Carta is only spared from death at the last minute by Gaelio, but her injuries draw comparisons to Ein’s when he was last defeated. Could Carta end up the brain of another Gundam, like him? I don’t know, but Gaelio doesn’t have the heart to tell her he isn’t McGillis. McGillis, presumably, has moved on to other steps in his big plan.

The train makes it to the gleaming city of Edmonton, on time and ready to deposit their passenger right smack-dab in the parliament when the time comes for elections. Orga calls the city “the enemy’s grounds.” Mika listens, as he pops a snack in his mouth, unsurprisingly none the worse for emotional wear after his 3-on-1 beatdown.

But he used to just follow orders; take out those who he’s ordered to take out, because orders were orders. Now he’s finally seeing those he takes out not just as targets, but as enemies; those who stand in the way of Tekkadan getting to a place where they belong. If anything, this realization only makes Mika a more potent weapon.

As for Merribit, she seems to have taken on the thankless mantle of Tekkadan’s conscience, thinking about a future beyond the next battle’s outcome, like Biscuit did before. But is that future the “Final Lie” of the episode’s title?