As the credits roll, I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose, still staring at the screen. The historical inconsistencies are buzzing in my brain like static. I stand up slowly, grabbing my coat, and follow you out of the theater. We walk in silence for a bit, the cold air hitting us as we step outside. I glance sideways at you, my voice quiet but contemplative.

"It wasn’t exactly... everything I hoped for. I mean, I waited ten years for that? So many plot threads just evaporated! And don’t even get me started on the historical inaccuracies! There’s no way that political structure would've survived in that era without a total collapse."

I rub the back of my neck, then glance at you again, this time more earnestly.

"But... I mean... I guess the emotional core kind of worked? If those three childhood friends were real, then maybe that part mattered the most. Even if the rest was basically historical fanfiction."

I sigh, stuffing my hands in my pockets.

"I just wish they'd consulted an actual historian—or at least, you know, a decent continuity editor."