Tempest episodes 8 and 9 review — The mastermind revealed, politics shaken, and a finale that plays it safe

Promotional image for Tempest | Image via: Disney+
Promotional image for the show | Image via: Disney+

Tempest closes its first season with a double episode that ties together months of conspiracy, betrayal and political brinkmanship. Episodes 8 and 9 of the show finally bring the answers viewers have been chasing since the premiere, but the way those answers land might leave you conflicted.

Tempest keeps its sharp focus on human ambition and pain, yet its last beats feel safer than the ride that brought us here.

Promotional image for the show | Image via: Disney+
Promotional image for the show | Image via: Disney+

The web of power in Tempest comes into full view

Episode 8 of Tempest works as a pressure cooker. Munju and Sanho dodge one last trap while new truths spill out. Hidden ashes, long-buried family secrets and a pen drive full of evidence shift the entire board.

Okseon, who had lurked in the background for most of the season, finally steps forward as the force behind decades of resentment and rage. Her moves are personal as much as political, showing that world-altering plots often spring from intimate wounds. What felt like a complicated web of factions suddenly narrows into one woman’s plan for control and revenge.

Private grudges fuel global chaos

Episode 9 of Tempest pushes the crisis to the brink of nuclear disaster. Okseon’s vendetta grows until it threatens an international war, using Idisha’s weapons as leverage. The stakes couldn’t be higher, yet the show keeps drawing everything back to raw, private pain: a mother, a son, an abandoned life trying to rewrite its worth through destruction.

It’s dark and human, but the resolution leans on convenience. A last-minute code stops the missiles. Sanho’s fate is left uncertain but suggestive enough to give hope. Okseon ends her arc with suicide instead of a reckoning that might have forced the story to confront her cruelty and vulnerability head-on.

Tempest trades complexity for a single villain

One of the early thrills of Tempest was its dense network of power players. Corporate elites, political leaders, intelligence operatives and private agendas made the board feel unpredictable. Concentrating every thread into Okseon as the mastermind simplifies that web. The show had teased a fractured, multi-layered machine. Reducing it to one wounded woman’s revenge makes the world smaller and the outcome easier to anticipate.

Tempest promised a world where personal trauma shapes international policy, and for a while it delivered. The threat of war feels close and frightening, the diplomacy scenes crackle with urgency and the domestic political moves have teeth. But the final episodes pull back just when the risk should peak.

A convenient code averts nuclear war. The United States and Idisha step back from conflict. South Korea’s power structure remains stable enough to crown a new presidential contender. It feels more like risk management than the daring escalation the first half suggested.

Promotional image for the show | Image via: Disney+
Promotional image for the show | Image via: Disney+

A finale that arranges rather than detonates

By the time the credits roll at the end of Tempest, most of the season’s intrigue had already been exposed for a while. These last two episodes mostly arrange pieces we have known for weeks instead of unveiling a shocking new layer. Characters who once felt morally gray settle into clear roles: Okseon becomes the ultimate puppet master (typical comic-book villainess), Munju stands as the survivor stepping toward leadership, Sanho remains the maybe-martyr who might return.

It's competent television, for sure, cleanly shot, tightly paced and emotionally coherent, but it’s not the seismic twist the buildup promised. For a show that dared to tangle family wounds with nuclear brinkmanship, the finale feels more restrained than it should have been.

Rating with a touch of flair: 4 out of 5 detonators that failed to ignite.

Edited by Beatrix Kondo