Remember Ichigo? Goro? Mitsuru and Kokoro? In Episode 24, they are relegated to a Greek chorus in cockpits. They scream “Hiro!” a lot and fire generic missiles. After 23 episodes of relationship drama, their entire resolution is “we watch the main couple die and then we go repopulate the Earth.” Futoshi doesn’t get a line of closure. Zorome’s existential crisis about adults is never resolved. The show spent hours on soap opera dynamics only to abandon them for space lasers.
The time-skip ending—showing the reincarnated Hiro and Zero Two as children under the new, blooming tree—is thematically correct. They are no longer “monsters” or “parasites.” They are just two kids who will meet again. In a vacuum, it’s a lovely, bittersweet capstone. The Bad (The Structural Collapse) Now for the rubble.
Hiro and Zero Two fuse to become the ultimate weapon, burning themselves out to destroy the VIRM homeworld. This should be gut-wrenching. Instead, it’s confusing. Why do they have to stay behind? Why can’t the bomb be remote? The show invents a “you’ll disappear if you use this power” rule in the literal last ten minutes. Consequently, the death feels less like tragic destiny and more like a contrived way to force the epilogue. Compare this to Gurren Lagann ’s ending, where the sacrifice has weight and consequence; here, it feels like the writers painted themselves into a corner. Darling in the FranXX Episode 24
Watch the final montage on YouTube. Mute it after the tree blooms. Pretend the reincarnated kids walk away and live a normal life. That’s the ending the show deserved.
VIRM is introduced in Episode 20 and defeated in Episode 24. That is four episodes for a “god-like alien collective” that wants to erase individuality. They have no personality, no motivation beyond “thoughts bad, hive mind good.” Episode 24 turns the climax into a generic space battle against purple CGI blobs. We went from a chilling human-on-human drama about breeding and obsolescence (the APE/Klaxosaur conflict) to shooting lasers at space ghosts . The show swapped a scalpel for a nuke and missed the target. Remember Ichigo
But if you loved the show for its nuanced take on humanity, growing up, and the pain of connection? Episode 24 is a betrayal. It’s a reminder that the writers had no idea how to land the plane, so they blew up the airport, turned the plane into a flower, and hoped you wouldn’t notice the wreckage.
The first ten minutes, before the plot descends into chaos, are genuinely affecting. Hiro and Zero Two’s souls drifting through space, their memories unraveling like film reels, is a stunningly directed sequence. The shot of young Hiro reaching out to the picture book, juxtaposed with Zero Two’s hand fading, lands an emotional punch that the rest of the episode fails to support. You can feel the animators fighting for their lives to make you cry. In Episode 24, they are relegated to a
The tone is all over the place. One moment, we are having a quiet, philosophical conversation about memories. The next, we are watching a 200-foot-tall Zero Two fist-fight a planet. Then, we cut to a wedding. Then, Hiro and Zero Two literally evaporate into stardust. The episode has no breathing room. It’s moving so fast to cover the plot that it forgets to let the audience feel anything besides confusion. The Ugly (The Thematic Betrayal) Here is my biggest gripe with Episode 24: it betrays the show’s best theme.