86: A War Story That Refuses to Look Away

There are anime that entertain, anime that inspire, and then there are anime that leave you silent when the credits roll. Not because you lack words, but because your heart needs time to catch up. 86 belongs to that final category. It is a series that doesn’t just depict war, but dissects it, challenges it, and humanises the voices buried beneath its machinery. In doing so, it becomes something rare: a war anime with soul.

The Premise: A Nation Built on a Lie

Set in the Republic of San Magnolia, 86 tells the story of a supposedly bloodless war. The nation claims to fight its battles with autonomous drones, maintaining peace without loss. But this is a carefully crafted illusion. In reality, the drones are piloted by the oppressed "Eighty Six" a group of disenfranchised humans stripped of their rights, names, and identities.

The story follows two perspectives. On one side is Vladilena "Lena" Milizé, a compassionate military handler trying to reach out from behind her screen. On the other is Shinei "Shin" Nouzen, the quiet leader of Spearhead Squadron, a unit of doomed soldiers who fight with the knowledge that death is their only escape.

A Story That Cuts Deep

At its core, 86 is about dehumanisation. It does not just present racism and discrimination as abstract themes. It makes you feel the consequences. Every moment with the squad carries a weight, a constant awareness that these characters are not only at war with machines, but also with a world that has already decided they are disposable.

What stands out is how the anime avoids melodrama. Instead, it builds emotion through silence, subtle gestures, and fragmented conversations. The story unfolds with restraint, which makes the emotional moments land even harder. When the characters laugh, it feels rare. When they cry, it feels earned.

Lena and Shin: Two Sides of the Same War

The relationship between Lena and Shin is one of the strongest elements in the show. Lena begins as an outsider. She believes she understands the injustice but is still complicit in the system. Her growth is slow and painful, filled with moments of discomfort and realisation.

Shin, meanwhile, is one of the most tragic protagonists in recent anime. Haunted by the voices of the dead and driven by quiet resignation, he carries a calmness that often feels more sorrowful than peaceful. His connection with his squad is powerful, but also heartbreaking. There is always the unspoken understanding that their time is limited.

What makes Lena and Shin's dynamic special is that it never becomes romantic. Instead, it remains grounded in mutual respect and empathy. Their connection grows from shared pain and understanding, not from forced attraction.

Visuals and Sound: Quiet Elegance

The animation, produced by A-1 Pictures, is fluid and expressive. However, it is the direction that truly elevates the series. The use of lighting, composition, and silence creates an atmosphere that feels both beautiful and heavy. Scenes often linger longer than expected, allowing emotion to settle in naturally.

The soundtrack, composed by Hiroyuki Sawano and Kohta Yamamoto, enhances every scene with precision. Sweeping orchestral scores carry the action, while quiet piano and ambient tracks bring a deep emotional resonance to the more reflective moments. Some of the most powerful scenes are entirely wordless, carried only by visuals and music.

Not Without Flaws

The pacing can feel uneven at times, especially in the early episodes where exposition takes the spotlight. Some political themes, while introduced with weight, could have been explored further. Even so, these are minor issues compared to what the series accomplishes emotionally and thematically.

A Voice for the Silenced

86 is not just a war story. It is a story about those who are forgotten, ignored, or erased. It asks its audience to look closer, to question what they believe about justice and humanity, and to listen to those whose voices are not always heard.

The show’s strength lies not in its battles, but in the quiet moments in between. The stolen glances, the hushed conversations, the hope that flickers even when the world feels hopeless. In a society so quick to dehumanise others, 86 reminds us that the greatest act of resistance is to care.