86's second cour (or season 2, I'll just refer to it as season 2 from this point on as I do feel there's enough to discuss that distinguishes this part of the narrative from the prologue) is a wildly different beast. Our central cast are no longer forced into conflict against their will and have to make the choice themselves to return to the battlefield - with the option of having a normal life given to them. What this turns into is an entire theme (complimenting the lack of agency the Alba in S1 had) about positive and negative freedom, where while the inhabitants of the Federacy have the relative freedom to find their own paths in life, the Spearhead Squadron neither have the ability to rationally do after everything that happened to them in S1 and before that nor the ability to even imagine. Much of the season is these characters desperately trying to repick the pieces back up, and recontextualizing what their lives even mean once the fighting ends - if there is such a purpose to even be found beyond that.
The alienation the central cast feel from wider society doesn't end with the prologue, however; they're treated with a contemptuous level of pity by the Federacy's society at best, being pitied for being raised as child soldiers and told to stay off the battlefield despite the lack of agency involved in their decisions after everything they had gone through, and at worst implicitly discriminated against due to their experiences not lining up with what much of their ethnic kin in Giad have experienced in their own lives as well (which is a welcome and more interesting contrast to the more explicit discrimination present in the Republic). The presence of pity or sympathy at best and not empathy is the distinction to be made here; there's a clear message here about how wider society - for all the talk about not letting the more underprivileged fall to the way side - has no problem whatsoever keeping a distance from people whose culture and experiences are deemed too heavy. This is exemplified over and over again by everyone and their dog telling Shin to just quit the military and be happy - which while a valid thing to say, is clearly alienating to someone who by that point has been defined by his experiences putting his comrades out of their misery and being driven by fighting nonstop as a distraction from his trauma.
Happiness is an interesting beast to tackle involving 86 S2. The series doesn't glorify the Federacy's non-combatant citizenry, but neither does it take a militaristic stance involving pushing them to fight. In fact, quite the opposite; the happiness found in a normal, down to earth life where a place to call home is taken for granted is something the series outright romanticizes, but with the nuance that such a thing isn't presently possible for those that have had so much stolen from them by the current conflict - the Spearhead Squadron among them. This extends to another aspect that is relevant to everything 86 is as a story; meaning.
S2 for the first time puts the Spearhead Squadron in a position where they no longer can live lives - even if they returned to the battlefield - strictly defined by nonstop fighting. Anju's interest in cooking, Kurena's in fashion, Raiden in just doing rough labor (he pretty openly says he hasn't found anything in particular he's interested in) and Theo's (which is more relevant later in the narrative) in drawing but with the catch of not trying to socialize with anyone when doing art are all things that they can turn to involving normalcy. They reject that ultimately, but the catch here and something the series harps on is that they have to find something to love and enjoy beyond the fighting - the last episode of the series dedicating time to revisiting all of these interests is emphasizing the fact that it's not normalcy in itself that's being rejected, normalcy with the pretense of rejecting past experiences is. This is tied insanely well with the series's already strong emphasis on memory politics and trauma, and perhaps it's about time to mention the elephant in the room tied to everything in S2; Shin.
Shin, in the truest sense, is a child soldier with no purpose on the battlefield beyond more fighting. He's detached from any moral compass and is in many ways a weapon taken human form, one whose experiences have been completely shunned (which ironically contrasts him with the normal citizens of the Republic, who similarly also shun the past in favor of a temporary present) in favor of constantly focusing on the lives in front of him that he either has to save or put out of their misery for. This kind of existence is traumatic and leaves him in a position where the longer he kept doing it, the heavier the burden on his shoulders - something the rest of the cast point out constantly is that Shin is unique in how the burden couldn't possibly have been shared with him and yet there's a clear desire by the cast to remove it from him entirely. The mark on his unit being the same as his brother's and kept even beyond S2's ending is noteworthy in that respect; Shin desperately tries to avoid the past while being, like all people, defined by it, and his character resolution comes in accepting his trauma as a part of him, that it's OK to be hopeful instead of slip into the same mindless nihilism as the Legion (exemplified by his guardian angel Lena, who inadvertently is the catalyst that drags him out of that headspace), that it's fine to live up to the past legacies and more than anything, that it's OK to be happy and move beyond trauma that has until this point defined your life and hope for something better.
Frederica is similarly noteworthy to mention as she is someone who is defined by a past she can't escape yet is forced to escape from anyway (her being nobility in a former kingdom whose last name has been changed), having seen exactly where the worst of Shin's behavior can go in Kiriya and being a voice of sanity in the entire narrative telling him that it's OK to personalize himself instead of remain detached from the world around him in this nihilistic, self-hating frenzy - two scenes that best exemplify this is one where Frederica warns him about not following Kiriya's path and explains everything that happened to her, but also explaining that he should stop perceiving the world in such a hyper-militaristic manner by refusing to personalize and decorate his room. Similarly, another scene is where the two have a conversation about what it means to even be alive, how Shin perceives himself (which ties into S1's ending oh so perfectly) as a did man walking - Frederica tells Shin that as bleak as their lives can and are, that it's fine having dreams of something to hope for, and that he's ingrained his own misery onto himself so far that he can't even imagine a world where he can do that. Frederica is just a fantastic character period, her childishness contrasting wonderfully with the rest of the cast but being a pretty great example of what the series as an ethic is promoting - she doesn't hesitate in confronting her past trauma, and interacts normally with Shin (albeit with the nuance of not calling him by a nickname). She struggles desperately with all of Shin's actions mirroring Kiriya's, but never stops being a supporter of Shin climbing out of the mental anguish and trauma he's presently in, offering him real empathy.
Many, many characters receive a truckload of characterization in S2. Raiden's bromance with Shin is a joy, but there's also wonderful scenes of him hanging out with his workmates and Frederica - the scene of him cooking something for her is one of my favorite in the whole season because there's something down to Earth and humane about this guy just chilling with a child while badmouthing his best friend. The scene on the bridge is fantastic emotional drama and something built up all the way from S1's finale, and his optimism despite also not having something to clearly work towards like Shin does is refreshing and infinitely likable. Anju struggling to move past Daiya kickstarts the core of her own character arc, but the fact she desperately tries to continue fighting instead of give in and kick the bucket says it all; despite all her pain, she'll keep fighting. Kurena is juvenile and doesn't remotely understand Shin, but her desperation in understanding him at all is key. And most notably, Theo trying to desperately live up to his old colonel's legacy implicitly (though this won't be openly expanded on until later) is indicative of how perhaps the most important things about those who pass away that people hold dear is living up to the best of them rather than drown in self-depreciating self-pity.
Frederica is not the only character introduced in S2 who's noteworthy to mention. Ernst is as likable as he is terrifying, being a perfect foil to Lena's own utopian idealism in how he stands for admirable ideals but also copes poorly with the odds of them failing at any point, with his character relationships both with Frederica and the Spearhead Squadron being both amusing and interesting to watch - he embodies his own ideals in many ways about a nation being a place where people of any background can call home, but ironically segregates himself from his own family in Frederica, his maid and the central cast knowing full well that he might consider himself replacing his old family by doing so, making him a warped if tragic and insanely humane hypocrite. Willem is a messy, ugly person who is driven purely by his own selfish desire to not see the woman he loves break down entirely rather than a better defined clear moral compass - Grethe is fun and endlessly charismatic while also projecting her own experiences as a veteran on the Squadron, offering them limited but not full empathy. This season also features the beginning of Anette slowly defrosting from her more jaded and guilt-driven cynicism in S1, driven by perhaps the most important of the side cast - Lena.
Lena's role in S2 has been confused by many a LN reader and anime watcher alike, as this is the arc where she gets permanently relegated as the central main character of the story in favor of Shin, as well as (unlike the rest of the story) doesn't even take up the deuteragonist role, showing up less than a handful of times in the arc in the LNs even. However, this is also the part of the story where much of her petty conversations with Shin reach full circle - she means the world to Shin, figuratively and literally, and much of his descent into full-on nihilism is driven by his belief in her no longer being there. Her idealism is present, but tempered by the reality of the setting she lives in at this point (not unlike Ernst) - however, her drive to fight on remains and is perhaps the most evocative part of 86's broader message about living on persistently, despite all the pain and suffering one might endure, hoping for a better tomorrow. Lena loses almost everything a human being can possibly lose over the course of S2, yet she continued fighting on. She saves Shin by merely existing, and (with the anime beautifully presenting it as her stepping out of his narrow frame and into his world) offers Shin a layer of potential normalcy and the promise of a happier future, tying together their conversations in S1 to something deeper and more substantial.
On a side tangent, I've seen my fair share of bad faith criticism by 86 detractors on how she should've formally joined the 86 instead of persist on within the Republic; I don't know if these people and myself watched the same show, but Lena's hands were tied the literal second she heard about the Legion offensive, and she wouldn't have achieved much by joining the 86 on her own in a potential suicide run. She wouldn't have saved as many people fighting for the 86 as she did by rebuffing the Legion offensive, and people who make this criticism come off as simply assuming 86 is a story about racism and corrupt governance and stopping there.
Perhaps - to tie things back to discussing memory politics - the strongest indication what 86 desires to communicate as a story as mentioned earlier is Shin wanting to maintain his ties to his powers, continue the fight while also reconciling his memories of his late brother and memories of himself in the Republic clearly with who he is instead of shaft them and deeming them unnecessary. The segment with flashing images in the last stretch of the season, showing montages of the central cast and what made them, well, them up until this point is key, that the past may define you evermore, but you can define yourself and how to contextualize it here and now.
86 S2 is a less visually impressive cour than S1, but this ironically works to its benefit with stronger direction, more evocative imagery and more flair. The series is Ishii's debut as director and if this is how impressive his work is with something like 86, I can't imagine what he would contribute in future works. The use of visual motifs - like the rails, aspect ratio, ants and photos/video footage - is applied fantastically. The voiceacting is amazing - I have nothing to say on this front that I didn't say in my S1 review - and the OST is even more stellar than S1, being among Sawano's finest work yet. LilaS is a particular favorite of mine, the context definitely helping solidify that as one of my favorite insert songs in all of anime, but another favorite is Voices of the Chord, a track that uses Avid as a leitmotif but with stronger vocals and lyrics.
86 S2 heralds something more for the future of the wider narrative for 86, taking what made S1 so stellar and expanding on it, having a more emotional and personalized story. I cannot recommend this highly enough.
Thank you for reading, any and all feedback would be appreciated.
