By the time war arrives, you understand why people clung to the television at night. The massacre of ideals is intimate: friendships splintered, vows broken, the faces of mentors stained by the choices of pupils. Victory tastes of ash; defeat is not always the losing side. The aftermath lingers — ruins, funerals, quiet scenes where the survivors ask if the cost was worth the cause. The final episodes do not offer easy closure; they hand you a mirror instead, asking what you would have done, what choices you might have made under the same sky.