Deca-Dence – 12 (Fin) – A New Grand Process

When Jill tells Natsume that Kaburagi has connected with Deca-Dence to become Kabu-Dence, Natsume is momentarily bewildered by her Boss’ constant changing forms. But change is at the heart of this episode, and ultimately the salvation of free cyborgs and humans both.

Everyone rallies behind Kabu and Minato, with the Gears logging in en masse to participate in the game’s climactic “Final Mission” while Donatello fills in Kurenai and the Tankers.

Minato and Jill are concerned that despite a successful connection, Deca-Dence isn’t doing anything. That’s because Kaburagi first has to deal with something very similar to Neo in The Matrix Reloaded when he meets The Architect. In this case, it’s The System itself, telling him that even bugs are a part of the system, meaning anything he does will be within the System’s calculations.

But if that were the case, why try to stop him? Kabu doesn’t buy that cog-in-the-machine crap anymore; he’s living his life by the precepts gained through Natsume: push yourself to the limits in order to help create a better, freer world. With that declaration, and Natsume simultaneously smashing her arm to pieces “waking” Boss up, Kabu-Dence finally stirs to life.

With glowing tendrils it reaches out at all the hunks of debris throughout its surroundings, which were brought back to life thanks to the Gears and Tankers topping them off with oxyone. To Kabu’s distress, one of the people helping is Natsume, initially trying to push a huge part all by herself before being joined by Kurenai and her Tanker comrades.

With less than ninety seconds until total spacial displacement, Minato orders the now charged and upgraded Kabu-Dence cannon to fire upon Gadoll omega, the beam of which Donatello deflects by sacrificing his Gear avatar. It fires, and there’s a big boom but…it doesn’t work. The beam wasn’t strong enough to break through omega’s adamantoise-esque shell.

With under forty seconds on the clock, Kabu seems resigned to oblivion…until stored memories of Natsume’s best and most formative moments flash before his visual interface. Natsume herself was drawn within Kabu-Dence’s machinery, and her presence seems to snap Kabu out of giving up.

Kabu-Dence’s limiter is suddenly removed, enabling a far more powerful attack even with the oxyone stores depleted. The blast is enough to destroy Gadoll omega, but completes the destruction of Deca-Dence as a mobile fortress in the process.

Whether due to the strain of the limit break attack or damage to his body caused by falling debris, Kaburagi concedes that his time has finally come. The System was right about one thing—that he was going to die either way. Left out of that statement is the fact he wouldn’t die until after he successfully broke that system, with the help of his friends.

When Natsume finally finds Kabu’s cyborg body, his face is broken and the one light remaining behind is about to go out. Natsume lets some tears fall, but she doesn’t lose it; she merely expresses gratitude to her boss and assures him she’ll be okay on her own from now on. He gave her and every human and free cyborg a chance.

Three Years Later, and Deca-Dence is now a bustling city surrounded by verdant farmland, where humans and cyborgs peacefully coexist. Under “Supreme Administrator” Minato’s leadership and Jill’s scientific prowess, the game has changed: no longer a brutal battle in which Tankers were cannon fodder and servants, now cyborgs share in the labor and betterment of the new civilization beside their human friends.

Natsume has started a business taking cyborg tourists out on exploration and adventure trips. Her new arm can become a helicopter rotor, which is pretty awesome and also makes her a kind of unique conduit between the human and cyborg experience. As she promised, she made a life for herself and thrived without boss around. But that doesn’t mean when Jill eventually manages to bring Kaburagi back, using his backup data and a new avatar body, she isn’t glad to see him again!

It’s a fast, focused ending and the epilogue-over-end-credits is perhaps a bit rushed (I’d have loved to spend more time in this lush, just new world). But seeing Natsume’s face light up once more as she recognizes him emerging from the glaring sunset is as fitting image as any on which to close the book on the tremendously entertaining and unflinchingly relevant Deca-Dence.

Season Average: 9.17

Deca-Dence – 11 – Being a Mistake is What Makes It Right

Spoilers: Natsume does not meet her maker by Hugin’s hand this week. Instead she’s saved by two things: Hugin’s momentary distraction with the new Gadoll bug, and Kabu managing to log back in as the orange Gear and shoot Hugin through the chest, thus logging him out of Deca-Dence. It’s a bit convenient and plot-armory, but fine, it’s not like I wanted Natsume’s story to end in that trailer.

After that, Natsume must quickly wrap her head around the fact that the Boss she knows who is lying dead on the ground is just an empty avatar, and the Boss himself is in the orange Gear body. Minato’s crew determines the massive Gadoll to be a bug that survived the GGS. The System designates it Gadoll Omega, and orders Deca-Dence to take it out.

But while this Gadoll bug isn’t that much larger than the largest Gadoll they’ve fought and defeated in the past, it’s much tougher, not only absorbing Deca-Dence’s fist blow in its crab-like claws, but shoving Deca-Dence back, doing critical damage to its movement apparatus. When Solid Quake’s orbital HQ uses its Solid Cannon from orbit, the Gadoll meets that beam with its own red one…and wins.

It’s the first time we’ve seen the pristine Solid Quake HQ ship damaged, and it’s enough to spook The System into pure Self-Preservation Mode. To that end, the entire Deca-Dence program is being shut down. Hugin is replaced by Munin, who politely announces to Minato that all Deca-Dence facilties are to be reverted along with Omega via the spacial decompression device—a fail-safe in case the game ever threatened the System.

Suddenly, there’s six hours until the end of everything on the planet surface, including what remains of humanity. But Jill, reestablishing contact with Kabu, says there’s still a way for a user to log in with Deca-Dence itself as their avatar. She knows this because prior to being designated a bug, she helped build Deca-Dence’s core.

Kabu and Natsume go their separate ways, but Natsume assumes they’ll meet up again at some point, while Kabu is ready to not return, as he’s volunteered to take the reins of Deca-Dence. His jeep passes Natsume, marking the first time she’s seen his cyborg form. Of course, she only gets a brief glimpse and has no idea it’s him.

At the epically huge and cool-looking core, Minato confronts Kabu, telling him there’s still time to run, to which Kabu asks where to? When Minato admits he has no idea what he should believe or do anymore, Kabu tells him he was once the same way, and simply waiting to be scrapper, until he met Natsume the Tanker Bug, who taught him he can make his own choices.

Then the best thing ever happens: Natsume meets Kabu’s cyborg comrades…and after a few moments of profound confusion, accepts it, finds them adorable, laughs, and introduces herself. Now Jill sees why Kabu has gone so far for a human bug’s sake. Jill herself has a bug still within Deca-Dence she’s hoping will make a difference.

Minato decides to help Kabu log in as Deca-Dence after all. While it’s true Deca-Dence is an absolute wreck, perhaps being under Kabu’s direct control (rather than the System’s) combined with Jill’s surprise bug, could conspire to unlock heretofore unseen abilities.

They’ll need everything they can get in the forthcoming finale, as the twin existential crises of the still-evolving Gadoll (and its brood) and the countdown to self-destruct will both have to be dealt with if anyone is to survive.

Carole & Tuesday – 06 – Kicked Up to the Big Stage

Right off the heels of their first sparsely attended gig, Gus has a second one for them, courtesy of Hofner (through Beth). They’ll be backing up Omega—and their notoriously flaky drunk frontman—at Cydonia, one of if not the biggest concert on Mars. They’ll be playing to one hundred thousand fans who wanted to hear Omega. The prospect of all those hostile people “breaks” Tuesday.

Oh yeah, the show’s tomorrow, so they have to spend part of the night and the train ride there writing and practicing a song. Everything about this gig is already ridiculously implausible…and I’m not talking about them being on Mars! Even with the explanation that no other band would bother if there’s a chance Joshua will play, it makes no sense for Hofner to not already have a list of professional bands eager for their shot backing up Omega.

But whatever, Carole and Tuesday are super-lucky! Fine. And the place is pretty cool; we finally get a good look at Mars’ rolling red hills and valleys, and Cydonia looks kinda like a Burning Man-style oasis in that wasteland.

Carole and Tuesday have some time before they go on, so they soak it all in, including, hopefully, some of one of their favorite singer Crystal’s air. Meanwhile Roddy does his job as DJ Ertegun’s AI operator, and Ertegun plays the same track we’ve heard to a delirious crowd.

That crowd’s reaction is somewhat outsized for what sounds like someone hitting a 2003 Casio keyboard’s DEMO key, but again, whatever.

Joshua arrives, and there’s a funny sight gag where he seemingly steps surefootedly out of the car, only to crumple into a human slinky; dude is tossed, which means C&T are most likely on. Panicking in their trailer, they eventually go outside, only to run into Roddy and Ertegun.

They run and hide—because he can’t press charges if he can’t catch them, I guess?—and end up in the smoke-filled trailer of “Skip”, who is very spooky and threatening at first, but gives them the most uninspiring inspirational speech before going on stage and performing what was actually the best piece of music in the episode, but which was still pretty bland, with lyrics that might be forgivable if written by a middle schooler.

When Joshua can’t take the stage due to some kind of “Beetle” problem (or is it “Beatle”?), C&T take the stage for him, with the reception you’d expect from people who paid good money to see Omega, not two amateurs with one official gig under their belts.

If I’m sounding overly harsh about this episode, it’s because this episode was harsh. Also, because the show believes C&T to be some kind of generational world-changing talent. But I’ve reached my limit.

Here’s the thing: the “Dancing Laundry” is vapid trash. I wouldn’t throw trash at them if they played it at a concert I attended—that would be despicable—but I would probably walk away to buy some beer or get in line for the toilets…anything to get away from that.

But here’s another thing: C&T actually are good by the standards of music in this world. Ertegun is a hack, Skip is inskipid, and the less said about Omega, the better. The duo still took the stage, played as hard as they good, and endured the abuse of the crowd until Omega took over.

I just couldn’t feel that bad for Tuesday crying afterwards, because from my ears they did nothing to turn that crowd around, and as unfairly impossible as a feat as that might have been, if C&T are as good as everyone says, then why not have them win that crowd over? They like all the other crap we had to listen to!

The last nail in the coffin of this stinker of an episode is Crystal, who to her credit seems like a nice lady, comforting the duo and giving them kudos for persevering in front of such a hateful crowd. But even the mega pop star can’t help but sing lyrics that sound like they were generated by a computer algorithm…a bad one.

Carole & Tuesday draws you in with its lush and intricate setting, warm, likable protagonists, and game supporting cast. But then somebody starts singing and you have to turn down the volume and hope it stops soon, and all the show’s goodwill is spent. It’s a big problem. In the future, on Mars, music is apparently terrible.

Cowboy Bebop and Samurai Champloo featured good music from real artists, and neither of those Watanabe shows were even about music! How could the ball have been dropped so badly here? MAL doesn’t even list anyone on the staff as responsible for music. Maybe computers really did make it…