Through the course of their plaintive journey, Phos has tried again and again to reinvent themself, and reshape themself into some form that might be of use to their society. In spite of all their efforts, perhaps the only lesson that can be drawn from their journey is “not all change is good change,” as last episode clearly demonstrated. After having failed to be of use as a warrior even with their newly empowered legs, that episode saw Phos suffering yet another unjust separation from their companions, as they discovered their new body structure no longer required the low-light hibernation cycle employed by their fellow gems. Instead, they were forced to embrace a new degree of isolation as the unwanted apprentice of Antarcticite, the one gem assigned to protecting their sleeping companions.

Of course, as Land of the Lustrous has regularly demonstrated, a sense of isolation or imprisonment isn’t exactly uncommon within this society. Gems like Phos or Cinnabar are obviously isolated by their inability to contort themselves to fit into the Lustrous’ societal roles, but even those that actually fit into their roles here seem awkwardly limited by them, the interests and desires of gems like Amethyst or Diamond consistently grating against the confines of the tasks they’ve been assigned. Phos has proven to be an excellent general irritant for this society, embodying both a community-oriented attitude and genuine curiosity about their world that each threaten the unflinching established order. Though this society defines gems’ value as no more than the output of their labor, the actual day-to-day experience of this life repeatedly demonstrates the insufficiency of that metric in describing who these gems are, or perhaps more importantly, who they want to be.

As such, without Sensei’s guiding hand to keep them within the lines, it’s little surprise that Phos and Antarcticite strike up a relationship more nuanced than teacher and apprentice. Beginning from a point of assumed faith in Sensei’s order, Antarcticite initially believes that Phos is simply a slacker, someone too lazy to perform their natural function. But upon clashing with the genuine article, Antarcticite is forced to recognize Phos’ earnest desire to find their purpose, and shares some of their own treasured purpose in solidarity. Unfortunately, that melancholy takeaway of “not all change is good change” once again holds true. You could even say it’s actually Phos’ growing kinship with Antarcticite that leads to their next tragedy: the loss of their arms, surrendered to some unknown force beneath the ice flow at the promise of “you won’t get worse. You must change.” When you’re unhappy with your current self any promise of change can seem like a lifeline, regardless of where it’s dragging you.

Dynamic storyboards conveying panicked, directionless haste lead the way into one of Land of the Lustrous’ most visually spectacular episodes, as Antarcticite dives beneath the ice flow in pursuit of Phos’ arms. Overwhelming scale, canted angles, and negative space again prove themselves fundamental to Lustrous’ aesthetic, making a frantic battle of the gem’s navigation of floating ice. Land of the Lustrous has always impressed via its clean interplays of geometry – gems cast against the austere pillars of their home, or the regular grass and sky of the plains. Here in the depths of winter, the snow makes the environment even more homogenous, evoking a natural sense of loneliness while facilitating these stark, contrast-focused compositions.

In spite of their panicked pursuit, Antarcticite is forced to admit that Phos’ arms are truly gone. More vast, lonely compositions lead us back for Antarcticite’s official report, wherein they take full blame for Phos’ loss. This, of course, is precisely what Phos doesn’t want. After all, it was Antarcticite’s willingness to put some faith in Phos, and actually hold them up to a certain standard of expectations, that initially fostered a bond between them. Antarcticite was the only gem willing to treat Phos as a potential partner rather than an inherent invalid, making this taking of the blame feel much like a severing of their connection.

At least, that’s like how Phos sees it. Given their existing anxieties, it’s no wonder they see being shielded as a reflection of how pathetic they truly are. But in truth, whether it’s Antarcticite or Amethyst or whoever it may be, this shielding often seems more a simple reflection of how much these gems genuinely like Phos, how much they’ve come to care about this gem who allegedly has no value. The language of companionship and mutual care that could best describe  how Phos is meaningful is unknown to the gems; all they can do is speak in Phos’ defense in the realms they do understand, offering their own heads for this companion whose worth they can’t express in any other way. It is a tragic irony that the other gems’ gestures of faith in Phos are to Phos interpreted as a lack of faith.

In this world, the weight of your feelings can only be expressed through the value of your labor. Shuddering with emotion, Antarcticite only knows how to express their shame and grief by saying, “I’m sorry, I’ll explore the area more thoroughly.” Taking Antarcticite in his arms, Sensei expresses the privilege of genuine comfort reserved for the bond between him and his followers. It’s no wonder all the gems are infatuated with him – he has established a monopoly on affection in this society, meaning all the feelings they can’t direct towards their labor are instead directed towards him. And thus Antarcticite and Phos’ mutual consolation is redirected at Sensei, leaving Phos to lament one more person who believed in them being betrayed for that trust.

The new distance between Phos and Antarcticite is made clear as they journey towards the Chord Shore, in search of potential new materials for Phos. When a sharp gust of wind blows Phos over, Antarcticite momentarily drags them up, prompting an aborted “thank y-” before Antarcticite turns and keeps walking. Phos has ruined something again – their brief solidarity with Antarcticite has been lost, and now Antarcticite sees them as a burden just like everyone else does. But if Phos has gained anything during their journey, it is resilience to disappointment. Rising unsteadily, they regain their footing and keep walking, determined to keep pace behind that retreating back. And so the two arrive at the place where gems are born, a fresh visage of magnificent austerity and desolation.

Here, sea microorganisms decay and work themselves into the rock, rising up over millions of years to potentially form full gems – or, more likely, to crash and shatter on the rocks below. While Antarcticite gripes that they can only find gold and platinum, metals ill-suited to recombination, Phos laments the tragedy of this journey, muttering “even after they’ve made it all this way” as they admire the golden fragments. It is precisely in Phos’ nature to feel pity and kinship for these fragments, and to recognize the familiar in the foreign. Perhaps it is that nature which prompts the ensuing reaction, as passive gold takes form and urgency, melting and entrapping Phos in a strange metal shroud. And then, the Lunarians attack.

Antarcticite’s battle with this new Lunarian is a marvel of digitally-facilitated camerawork, as they swoop and soar to avoid blades and fishing hooks, trading blows they know will send tremors back through their body. At the same time, the fight also demonstrates this production team’s understanding of when digital animation will not suffice; for moments like Sensei being bound in a trap or the Lunarian tower being sliced in half, CG is abandoned in favor of fluid traditional cuts. In fighting to protect the bound Phos, Antarcticite can truly express what their words cannot: their love for both Sensei and Phos, their pride in their duty, and the quiet warmth underlying their cool affection. By the battle’s end, it seems their affection for Phos has been fully restored – and then they are snatched away, shattered by a final thrust from the Lunarian threat. In the end, Antarcticite’s feelings can only be expressed through sacrifice, as they raise a finger to their lips and urge Phos to stay safe.

Phos has suffered failure and embarrassment and disgrace, but never has someone actually died for them, died when Phos’ support might have saved them. With eyes full of rage and grief, Phos screams “do what I say, you worthless junk,” urging their golden attachments into action. It is a horrible, alienating thing to feel your body is more mask or cage than authentic self, and Phos seems to have only steered further from what might be “authentically Phos” as they’ve gone, even losing the memories that composed their original personality along the way. If thriving demands such dramatic changes, does that mean that Phos truly wasn’t valuable? If Phos has to lose everything, both body and identity, in order to succeed, what is even the point?

Phos has no time for these questions – only the desperate need to save their friend. They emerge as if from a chrysalis or blooming flower, gold rippling and dripping from unwieldy arms. Phos’ final dash towards Antarcticite demands a fluidity of movement that goes beyond stable forms, demands the distortion of form and vitality of energy intrinsic to traditional animation. Sometimes, your body seems to stretch beyond itself in agony, your emotions boiling beyond what any stable model could hope to convey. For an emotion this frantic and powerful, nothing short of traditional animation can suffice.

And yet, in spite of their new powers and frantic dash and heedless leap skyward, Phos is unable to save Antarcticite. They stand dumbfounded and devastated, having reached the end of a road that promised meaning, and discovered only ruin. “I’ve survived. I’ve gotten stronger, and found the courage to push past my limits. So why are they still getting away?” All series long, Phos has been chasing the belief that if they were simply stronger, the world would be kinder, and everything would make sense. In one last cruel irony, the moment Phos gains the power they’ve always wished for is also the moment they realize that power alone is meaningless, or at least insufficient to bring order, justice, and a sense of meaning to their life. Assessing all they’ve attempted and all they’ve accomplished, Phos can only see one truth worth mentioning, one result that cannot be questioned: “Antarcticite suffered for me.”

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