Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I’m happy to report we are at last returning to the skies of Simoun, and discovering the ultimate fate of all our brave pilots. Chor Tempest currently stands on the brink of dissolution, having surrendered their vehicles to foreign pilots and proceeded to the spring that will decide their fate. There, they find not Onashia, but their companion Yun – for having been inspired by Rea’s words, she has decided that saving Onashia is the purpose she has sought.
Yun might be one of the lucky ones. For all of its limiting strictures, the order of Simulacrum at least promised certainty, a knowledge of what you are and what you must do. But with their military superiority and religious authority crumbling at once, the people of Simulacrum are being forced to recognize their beliefs were ultimately arbitrary, the calcification of power and doctrine concealing the core truth of the simouns’ nature. And of course, none feel this shift more acutely than the sybillae, who have transitioned from living avatars of faith to redundant markers of a lost age.
It is entirely in keeping with Simoun’s thoughtful narrative approach that this be our final conflict – not the great battle for the fate of Simulacrum, but the painful necessity of moving on in its wake. With their past discredited and future uncertain, let’s bear witness to Chor Tempest’s final mission.
Episode 25
Admiring how the soft pastel aesthetic somewhat mitigates the clash of CG craft against traditionally painted backgrounds, and marveling again at how improbable it is that any aspect of this production actually works. It’s so ambitious, so complex, and so deeply enmeshed in incredibly thorny thematic material, and yet it still all somehow holds together
Having seen more of Dezaki’s works, it also seems like his influence here extends beyond the postcard memories. Simoun’s stately, somewhat melodramatic approach to its conflicts seems very much like a Dezaki show
“Pair”
The others are confused, but Rea understands Yun’s situation immediately
“She has made her choice. She is where she wants to be.” Rea and Yun’s certainty actually seems to calm the others a bit. Yun’s presence here is simultaneously shocking and comforting – it’s a shock to see a friend who has already crossed the threshold, and in such a unique fashion, but seeing that she’s also still the same Yun must be encouraging
“None of us truly know anything about each other. But in order to understand, we must fall.” After the group share some tender words regarding their past dreams and regrets, both Rea and Para agree that the group truly does not know each other yet. They’ve been separated from earnest human sentiment by their strange occupation, forced to act as gods even amongst themselves. Their identities as sybilla preempted much development of an identity outside that title, but through this visit to the spring and “fall,” they will at last start to know themselves and each other
“Sometimes we get so afraid of the fall that we cling to something along the way. But we have to let go, don’t we?” Alti’s clear, unambiguous words prompt a sad look from Kaimu. She promises to be waiting for Alti, somewhere below
Aw shit, show OP melody transcribed into a sad piano ballad, it’s happening
Yun bears a vessel like a tiny arc in her hand – an echo of the Archus Primus, now presumably a symbol of them being borne down the river to the next stage of their life. Shades of both yonic and religious imagery there, which seems perfectly appropriate
Guragief refers to the sybillae as “the priestesses of Chor Tempest” and then corrects herself, to which Anubituf replies by actively using the same phrasing, emphasizing that no matter what else they become, they will also always be the priestesses they were
“Yun was supporting us.” “It was almost like being in a cradle.” Yep, lots of birth imagery associated with the spring
A young girl prays to the returning Chor Tempest on the train, offering another reminder that they carry their past with them
Aaeru angrily marches up to Neviril and asks “tell me, why does my heart hurt so much!?” Oh Aaeru – infinite wells of confidence, absolutely zero emotional intelligence
A characteristically blunt confession of love, as Aaeru storms into the realm of romance with as much tact as she reserved for the sybilla identity
At last, Aaeru can ask Neviril about Amuria without it being some kind of accusation or contest. Just as Chor Tempest is learning to accept that their priestess identity will always be a part of them, so is Aaeru learning to accept that Neviril’s past loves will always be a part of her
As perhaps the most committed true believer in the sybilla system, and the one who sacrificed the most for its continuation, Neviril has the greatest difficulty stepping beyond it
Aaeru further proves her new faith in Neviril by stepping aside when Para returns, and letting the two share a private moment together
The two share a dance on the mess deck, to the consternation of the new soldiers. The lives of the sybillae already feel like an impossible fantasy compared to the new paradigm
Floe chose to become male, presumably so she can keep doing whatever she wants to do. There is definitely a wisdom in her blunt approach to life
Dancing with her oldest friend, Neviril confesses that she simply didn’t want to disappoint anyone, and wanted to remain a “good girl.” She sees Amuria and Aaeru, who pursued their dreams without compromise, as far more “pure” than someone like herself, who let her identity be defined by the expectations of those around her, and assumed their interest in her was purely pragmatic
Para phrases their strength as “they aren’t afraid of getting hurt.” Neviril retreated from the world to protect herself, but the people she’s loved were never afraid to engage with the messiness of the external world, and she now wishes to live by their example
“When you stop forcing your feelings on others, you live in a different, wider world.” Para is well-positioned to attest to what a prison emotional projection can become. When you believe everyone else’s behavior is somehow reflective of or in response to your own failings, it’s impossible to move in any direction without feeling like you’re making a mistake
And having moved outside the prison of attempting to be whatever Neviril might want her to be, Para is able to make her own choice, and chooses to be female
The sisters both chose to be female, shirking their own destiny as well. And Morinas shares an intimate welcome home with Wapourif, emphasizing the life these two intend to build together
With Simulacrum’s new allies having reached the limit of their patience, Neviril and Aaeru are grabbed by soldiers and thrown in cells
A poignant pair of postcard memories as the two kiss the wall standing between them, a fine metaphor for the intimacy they’re being denied in this new society
But the foreign priestesses rebel! Respecting the significance of what Aaeru and Neviril represent, they give them a chance to complete the final Ri Majoon
And Done
Well I guess we’ve time for a little more excitement after all! But for the most part, this episode served as a resounding affirmation of the satisfaction of a story well-told, as one character arc after another came to rest at its rightful destination. The dance shared by Para and Neviril was a particular highlight – both of them have suffered so much, and felt so deeply for each other, that it was marvelous to them forging a healthy new connection. The assumed responsibilities of priestesses have left little room for these characters to find their own way – but they have found strength in each other, and now look forward to an array of new horizons. As the sun sets on Simulacrum, the sybilla will carry the past within them as they step towards the future.
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