4k Manga

The glass walls of the fifty-second floor boardroom trapped heat like a greenhouse. Outside, the October sun hung low and unforgiving in a cloudless sky, casting long shadows across the polished table where twelve people sat, not speaking. They were strangers fashioned into colleagues by corporate necessity, each one holding their breath a little longer than natural, each one aware of being silently assessed by the others. In corporate America, the watching began long before the speaking. It was a dance of eyes—quick, darting glances followed by studied indifference. A man at the far end tapped his pen against the rim of his coffee cup, the sound precise and mechanical. A woman near the door folded the corner of her presentation notes, creasing it with her fingernail, then unfolding it, then folding it again. Small betrayals of nerves that everyone noticed and no one acknowledged. They waited for the meeting to begin, for someone to break the silence that had stretched like an elastic band between them. The tension wasn‘t personal—it was structural, built into the very architecture of ambition. In places like this, people became careful studies of one another: the way a colleague‘s smile didn’t reach their eyes, how another‘s handshake lingered a moment too long, the slight tremor in a supervisor’s voice when discussing quarterly projections. The human mind was designed to notice patterns, to sort signal from noise. In the corporate wilderness, this instinct sharpened to a knife’s edge. They watched for weakness the way wolves watched for limping deer. A woman in charcoal gray—her suit expensive but not ostentatious—checked her watch, the gesture so subtle it might have been a twitch. The room registered it anyway, a collective awareness that time was being measured. She had mastered the art of presence without performance, of being seen without seeming to seek attention. In the strange economy of office politics, this was a rare and valuable currency. Across the room, a man sat perfectly still. His stillness was different from the frozen anxiety of the others; it was deliberate, practiced, the stillness of someone who had learned that motion often revealed more than it accomplished. He watched the room with eyes that missed nothing and gave away less. When he blinked, it seemed deliberate, as if even this involuntary function had been brought under his control. Outside the windows, the city spread out like a circuit board, connections running between glass towers, power flowing invisibly between nodes of influence. Inside, the air conditioning hummed at the edge of hearing, a white noise that covered the sound of breath, of swallowing, of the small adjustments people made in their seats as they waited. People existed in layers. The surface layer was what they showed in meetings like this—composed, professional, appropriate. Beneath that lay the calculations, the chess moves planned three steps ahead. And deeper still were the private histories that shaped each person’s reactions, the accumulated weight of past failures and successes, the scars and hopes they carried silently beneath their skin. Sometimes the layers bled into each other. Sometimes a crack formed in the careful facade, and something true leaked out—a flash of genuine anger, a moment of unexpected vulnerability, a laugh that wasn’t carefully modulated for the corporate environment. These moments were rare and often missed, except by those who had trained themselves to notice. The quality of attention varied from person to person. Some watched others only for what they could use or avoid. Some watched out of habit, a defensive posture developed through years of professional survival. And some—the rarest kind—watched with a genuine curiosity about the complex interior lives behind the professional masks. In the boardroom, a phone buzzed. The sound cut through the silence like a knife, and twelve pairs of eyes reflexively checked their devices, though only one had received a message. This momentary disruption released something in the room. A man cleared his throat. A woman straightened a stack of papers that was already straight. They were grateful for the small permission to move, to exist a little more fully in their bodies. The door opened. The CEO walked in, followed by two assistants carrying tablets and folders. The atmosphere shifted instantly, everyone sitting straighter, faces arranging themselves into expressions of attentive interest. This, too, was a performance—the showing of appropriate deference, the telegraphing of engagement. “I apologize for the delay,” the CEO said, though he did not sound apologetic. His voice filled the room without being particularly loud. “Shall we begin?” The meeting proceeded as meetings do—information exchanged, points raised and addressed, decisions deferred to future discussions. But beneath the agenda items and action points, other exchanges were taking place. Trust was being assessed. Alliances were forming and dissolving. People were making calculations about one another based on tone of voice, choice of words, micro-expressions that flashed across faces like summer lightning. As the meeting concluded, people gathered their things, breaking into smaller groups, voices suddenly lighter, postures more relaxed. The performance of the boardroom was over; a different, less formal performance began. They laughed at small jokes, made plans for lunch, complained about the traffic or the weather. In this transition space between formal meeting and return to their offices, something unexpected happened. The still man and the woman in charcoal gray both reached for the same door at the same time. Their fingers brushed, and though neither reacted visibly, something passed between them—a moment of mutual recognition, perhaps, or simply an awareness of another human being, solid and real in a world of carefully maintained appearances. They had never spoken. They worked in different departments, moved in different circles within the corporate ecosystem. But in that small moment of contact, each recognized something in the other—a similar quality of attention, perhaps, or a shared understanding of the elaborate theater playing out around them each day. Neither acknowledged it. The woman nodded politely and stepped back. The man opened the door and held it, the gesture neither servile nor condescending, simply practical. They went their separate ways. But something had changed, though neither could have said exactly what. A connection had formed, tenuous as a spider’s thread but present nonetheless. In the vast, impersonal machinery of corporate life, such connections were both rare and essential—small reminders of humanity in places designed to minimize its unpredictable effects. The afternoon sun slanted through the city’s towers, turning the glass to fire. In a thousand offices, a thousand conversations continued. People watched and were watched, spoke and were spoken to, each one carrying their private histories like stones in their pockets, each one hungry for moments of genuine connection in a world built of strategic interactions.
Create a visually striking, modern poster illustrating the biblical story of Jonah and the great fish in a bold, cinematic style. The composition should focus on Jonah in the ocean during a storm, with massive waves crashing around him and dark clouds filling the sky. Include dramatic lighting with strong contrast between light and shadow, preferably in a black-and-white or monochrome style for a modern aesthetic. Show Jonah as a small, vulnerable figure in the water, looking overwhelmed but expressive, capturing fear, regret, and reflection. Behind or beneath him, include the giant fish emerging from the depths, large and powerful, but not overly frightening—more symbolic and awe-inspiring. Use motion in the water and dynamic angles to create energy and intensity. Add subtle symbolism, such as light breaking through the clouds or shining underwater, representing God’s presence and hope. Include a secondary scene or faded overlay of Jonah praying inside the fish, with a calm and peaceful mood contrasting the storm. The background should transition from chaos (storm) to calm (light or horizon), symbolizing transformation and redemption. Use clean, modern typography for a title such as “Jonah and the Great Fish” or a short quote like “A Story of Obedience and Second Chances.” Keep the layout balanced, with the main focus centered and text placed clearly without clutter. The overall tone should feel powerful, emotional, and meaningful.
Make both characters talk to each other
panel de manga en blanco y negro, estilo shonen con estética rockera, familia alternativa con actitud rebelde, padre con cabello largo y expresión seria, madre con mirada intensa y estilo punk, adolescente con audífonos y gesto desafiante, dibujo a tinta, alto contraste, sombras marcadas, screentone japonés, líneas dinámicas, viñeta vertical, estilo manga clásico, monocromático, ilustración detallada, sin color monocromático, entintado profesional, trama japonesa, líneas de velocidad, estilo impreso en revista manga
Make up a manga where people draw power from their hate for another some power manifest as a complex but powerful thing but other may be just a sword with a lot of unique abilities, but there are monsters who feed off that power and mix version of the hate they ate into their own power
a short story about ai who diss people openly, but seemingly no one notices. it's for a free manga trial. make it ungodly funny, please
📖 CRÔNICAS DOS REINOS ENTRELAÇADOS Volume 1 — Capítulo 1: O Céu Quebrado 20 páginas 🌓 PÁGINAS 1–2 (Splash Dupla) Arte: O céu literalmente rachando. Uma fissura colossal corta as nuvens. Três cores irradiam da fenda: verde, laranja, violeta. Silhuetas quase invisíveis nas nuvens: A Árvore-Mãe O Coração de Ferro Uma torre distante em Nocturne Narração: “Toda era termina da mesma forma. Primeiro… o céu se parte.” 🌓 PÁGINA 3 Quadros fragmentados, como vidro quebrado. Floresta queimando. Engrenagens esmagando corpos. Mãos esqueléticas emergindo do chão. Sem texto. 🌓 PÁGINA 4 Close no protagonista correndo em um vazio branco. Uma voz ecoa: “Você viu.” 🌓 PÁGINA 5 Ele para. O chão se transforma em raízes negras. Outra voz, metálica: “Você criou.” 🌓 PÁGINA 6 Sussurro grave: “Você libertou.” Três sombras o cercam. 🌓 PÁGINA 7 Ele acorda bruscamente. Respiração pesada. Suor. Quarto simples. Madrugada. Silêncio pesado. 🌓 PÁGINA 8 Ele percebe algo na mão. Um fragmento cristalino, pulsando nas três cores. Pequeno. Antigo. Ele não sabe de onde veio. 🌓 PÁGINA 9 Ele tenta largar o fragmento. Não consegue. Por um segundo, o quarto escurece. 🌓 PÁGINA 10 Corte externo. A vila dorme. Mas o céu pisca brevemente com as três cores. Ninguém parece notar. 🌓 PÁGINA 11 Manhã. Mercado simples. Pessoas comentam: “Os animais ficaram agitados ontem.” “Senti um peso estranho no ar.” O protagonista observa em silêncio. 🌓 PÁGINA 12 Um velho viajante encara o protagonista fixamente. Ele aponta para o fragmento. “Você também viu?” 🌓 PÁGINA 13 Close no velho. “A Eclipse das Almas não é mito.” Ele menciona três reinos: Eldoria Ferronis Nocturne 🌓 PÁGINA 14 O protagonista pergunta: “O que é isso?” O velho responde: “É o começo… ou o erro.” 🌓 PÁGINA 15 O fragmento esquenta. O velho se afasta, assustado. 🌓 PÁGINA 16 O protagonista vê por um segundo: A Árvore-Mãe chorando seiva negra. Pisca. Volta ao normal. 🌓 PÁGINA 17 Visão rápida: O Coração de Ferro abrindo um “olho” mecânico. Pisca. Desaparece. 🌓 PÁGINA 18 Visão final: Um selo rachando em Nocturne. Algo respira atrás dele. 🌓 PÁGINA 19 O fragmento se eleva levemente no ar. Forma um símbolo antigo. Pessoas ao redor não veem. Só ele vê. 🌓 PÁGINA 20 (Splash Final) O céu acima da vila racha por um segundo. Muito sutil. Mas real. Narração final: “O destino não escolhe heróis. Ele escolhe pontos de ruptura.” Preto. 🎭 Função do Capítulo Introduzir o mistério. Conectar protagonista aos três reinos. Estabelecer que algo já foi iniciado. Criar sensação de inevitabilidade. Nada foi explicado completamente. E isso é intencional. Mistério bem feito é tensão sustentada.
Page 1-2: Preparing for Eid Scene: The girls are sitting in the living room, talking about Eid " Meg: "I am so excited for Eid, but I feel sad for people who don't have enough ".Jo: "Yes... some children might not get any gifts or food "?Beth: "Maybe we can do something small to help them "?Meg: "What if we make them happy with little presents or sweets ".Jo: "That sounds nice! We can plan it together "Mom: "Ilove your idea, girls. Eid is not just for receiving, it's also for giving Page 3-4: Planning Scene: The girls discuss what each will do "Meg: "I think I can bake some sweets and share them "?Jo: "I will make some simple toys for the children. What do you think "Beth: "I have old clothes that I don't use. I can give them too "Meg: "That's perfect! Everyone can do something ". Jo: "Yes, we will make a small gift for each child "Mom:"| will collect all your gifts, and we can go together to give them Page 5-6: Working Together .Scene: The girls are busy preparing their gifts and food "!Meg: " like baking sweets, it smells so good ". Jo: "Making toys is fun, but I hope they will like them "Beth: "'m folding the clothes nicely. I hope they feel warm "Meg: "'m so happy we are doing this together ". Jo: "Yes, working together makes it even more fun "Beth: "Seeing them happy will make our Eid even better Page 7-8: Distributing Gifts Scene: Outside, the family gives food and gifts to the children "Beth: "Look at their smiles! They are so happy "Meg: "I feel so good giving them sweets "Jo: "It's amazing to see their faces light up ".Mom: "The joy of giving is much bigger than receiving "Meg: "I didn't know helping others could feel this wonderful "!Jo: "Yes... this is the real spirit of Eid Page 9-10: Returning Home .Scene: The girls walk home, feeling proud and happy "!Jo: "This is the best Eid I have ever had "Meg: "I agree. It feels better than any big gift ".Beth: "I want to do this every year *Mom: "That is the true meaning of Eid, helping others "Meg: " will always remember this feeling of joy "!Jo: "Next year, we can do even more Page 11-12: Ending Scene: The family sits for Eid breakfast, happy and laughing "Beth: "We should always help those in need "Meg: "Yes, let's make it a family tradition ".Jo: "A part of every Eid will go to the poor from now on "Mom: "I am proud of you girls. Giving makes Eid brighter for everyone "Meg: " love our family's Eid plan Jo: "And Ilove seeing everyone smile
CLIMATE X INDIGENOUS VOICES MAGAZINE EDITION – 2025 HIGHLIGHTS OPENING NOTE 2025 has been a defining year for Climate X Indigenous Voices — a year of deep listening, bold experimentation, and continent-wide action against climate disinformation. From grassroots fieldwork to global information integrity frameworks, this project has cemented itself as one of Africa’s leading voices on climate truth, Indigenous knowledge, and digital resilience. This edition captures the milestones, stories, and sparks that shaped our journey. FEATURE I — Foundations of a Movement Project Foundations & Ethical Community Partnerships Our year began where all great stories do — on the ground. Core teams were formed across Zimbabwe, Uganda, Kenya and regional media hubs, with contracts, TORs, and workflow structures firmly established. Early engagement with Indigenous partners — including the Tjwa community and others — ensured ethical collaboration, transparent consent, and storytelling shaped with communities, not about them. FEATURE II — Investigating the Climate Lie Machine Grassroots Disinformation Research In Matabeleland North, our field teams completed a landmark study with the Tjwa community. The research reveals how climate disinformation impacts resource access, daily decision-making, and community adaptation. These findings now anchor our content pipeline — from animations to community exhibitions — and the full report will be released on our public document-sharing platform. Africa Climate Disinformation Toolkit The continent’s first integrated guide to climate misinformation has been finalised. Led by an information integrity expert, the toolkit documents: Recurring myths Localised misinformation patterns Platform-driven manipulation Emerging online climate narratives Launching this December via webinar, the Toolkit already informs youth trainings and content strategy. It will be publicly accessible for download and reading. FEATURE III — Art as Resistance Art-Driven Dissemination Strategy From murals to exhibitions, 2025 strengthened the role of art in climate truth-telling. Community artists partnered with us to transform research into accessible, culturally rooted visual storytelling. A centerpiece was the exhibition inspired by The Last Forest documentary, showcased at the Green Cities Expo in September. FEATURE IV — Nurturing the Next Generation of Climate Truth Creators Green Media Accelerator: Fake News Fighters Track In Nairobi, the Green Media Accelerator launched a dedicated track for Fake News Fighters (FNF) — now one of Africa’s leading climate information integrity models. Through mentorship, fact-checking skills, and seed funding, FNF empowered young media innovators to produce verified, creative responses to climate lies. INFORMATION INTEGRITY HIGHLIGHTS Positioning Africa in the Global Info Integrity Landscape 2025 saw FNF align with the UNESCO Declaration for Information Integrity in the Public Sphere, marking a milestone for African-driven climate truth models. In 2026, FNF will contribute directly to shaping the world’s first Climate Information Integrity Framework, anchoring African solutions in global policy spaces. Fake News Fighters Bootcamps – Kenya & Uganda Using UKWELI as the core tool, two bootcamps trained 30 young creators to: Fact-check climate misinformation Detect platform manipulations Produce counter-narratives Map the real-world impacts of false climate stories These creators now feed into a continent-wide content pipeline. FEATURE V — Content, Storytelling & Digital Resistance Voices Rooted Podcast Production of the first episodes began this month. Key recordings include: Dr. Albert K. Barume, UN Special Rapporteur on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples Indigenous leaders and frontline climate defenders The podcast positions Indigenous wisdom at the centre of Africa’s climate discourse. Hope Not Heat! — Log Off The Lies Digital Campaign Bold. Satirical. Youth-driven. Log Off The Lies has become our strongest weapon against climate misinformation. Highlights: Infomercial launched in October — 2 million views Hero content released last week — 1.8 million views Youth social storm platform launched — 100+ engagements and counting Humour + fact-checking = sharper climate awareness among youth audiences This campaign now shapes the continent’s conversation on online climate manipulation. Influencer Travel Vlogs Travel and contracting with leading African vloggers is underway. Their content — spotlighting Indigenous adaptation stories — will be released early next year for wider impact. Documentary Production In Zimbabwe: Filming completed in August. Trailer for The Last Forest reached 2.5 million views. Festival submissions are being prepared for 2026. In Uganda: Filming has begun, expanding the documentary footprint across the region. A major national event is planned to engage policy makers on Indigenous Peoples' Rights, Conservation, FPIC and Extractive Industries. FEATURE VI — Youth Creativity & Climate Knowledge Climate Fake News Smackdown This creative competition invited youth to challenge climate myths. Three winners — one each from Zimbabwe, Kenya and Uganda — are now producing myth-busting content for release this month. Climate Facts Animations Three animated explainers are in production: Episode 1 releases on 10 December Episode 2 is complete Episode 3 follows early next year These animations demystify climate disinformation for youth audiences. FEATURE VII — Growing a Continental Network Africa Climate Labs Network Content hubs across East and Southern Africa are collaborating to build an Africa-wide front against climate disinformation. 2026 will deepen: Joint content planning Regular reporting Skill exchanges Coordinated distribution strategies Mid-term M&E is tracking reach, narrative shifts, and behaviour change across communities. SPECIAL RECOGNITION Fake News Fighters Wins Amnesty International Zimbabwe Award FNF received the Digital Creativity Award, affirming that information integrity is fundamental to climate justice. Without reliable information, communities cannot defend their rights, advocate for policy change, or hold powerful actors accountable. LOOKING AHEAD — 2026 AND BEYOND Next year, Climate X Indigenous Voices pivots from standalone outputs to continent-wide narrative influence. Key Priorities for 2026 Expanding UKWELI’s integration into broader African dialogues on climate truth and Indigenous resilience Strengthening the Fake News Fighters track for Zimbabwean and Tanzanian innovators Documentary production in Kenya and Tanzania A refreshed, more dynamic phase of the Hope Not Heat! campaign Strategic release of delayed content to maximise engagement 2026 will be the year the project scales from impactful storytelling to movement-level influence.
半分の君 Romaji: Hanbun no Kimi Meaning: “Half of You” At Hoshizora Academy, the Compatibility Program forces second year students to live together like married couples — cooking, cleaning, studying, sharing a dorm unit, and being graded on emotional sync. High scores mean scholarships. Low scores mean repeating the year. The program is infamous for creating bonds that feel too real and exposing feelings students try to hide. Ignatius Arimura enters the year hoping to stay invisible. He’s quiet, introverted, and still carrying the ache of a breakup he never healed from. Aoi Kisaragi was his first love — the girl who made him feel alive, and the girl who walked away from him without ever explaining why. Aoi hides her guilt behind her bright smile, convincing herself she’s moved on to Ren. Ignatius tells himself he likes Mina because it’s easier than admitting he still aches for Aoi. When the pairing announcement arrives, Aoi silently begs for Ren. Ignatius silently hopes for Mina. Both pray they won’t be paired with each other. But fate is cruel. Their names appear together with a compatibility score of 12%, the lowest in the program. The room goes silent. Aoi’s smile cracks. Ignatius’s heart sinks. Moving into the same dorm feels like reopening a wound neither of them survived. Their first days together are a disaster. Aoi’s loud music, Ignatius’s quiet routines, her clutter, his need for order — everything clashes. Their first evaluation ends in failure. But when Ignatius freezes during a public speaking assignment, Aoi steps in without hesitation, her voice steady, her hand brushing his as she takes over. For a moment, it feels like the version of them that used to exist. Their score rises to 18%, and Ignatius realizes with a painful twist that he never stopped caring. Seeing Mina and Ren working together so naturally only deepens the ache. Aoi watches Ren laugh with Mina in a way he never laughed with her. Ignatius watches Mina shine beside Ren and wonders if he ever had a chance. Both feel jealousy they refuse to acknowledge. That night, Aoi cries quietly in the bathroom, and Ignatius hears her through the door. He stands there, hand hovering over the handle, but he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to comfort her anymore. They eventually agree to a truce and create a “Compatibility Strategy Plan.” Cooking together leads to soft laughter. Communication drills turn into arguments that somehow end with them smiling. Late night study sessions blur into moments where they forget they’re supposed to be exes. They fall asleep on opposite ends of the couch, but each night they wake up a little closer. Their score jumps to 41%. Aoi wakes one morning with Ignatius’s jacket draped over her shoulders. She doesn’t ask why. He doesn’t tell her. And then comes the chapter that changes everything. One night, after a long study session, Aoi falls asleep at the table, her head resting on her arms. Ignatius tries to wake her, but she mumbles something soft and exhausted, and he can’t bring himself to shake her. He sits beside her, meaning to stay only a moment. But he’s tired too. He rests his head on his folded arms, inches from hers. The room is warm. The silence is gentle. Without meaning to, they drift off together. When they wake, the sun is rising. Aoi’s head is resting on Ignatius’s shoulder. His hand is loosely holding hers. Their breaths are slow and in sync, like they’ve been sleeping together for years. For a long moment, neither moves. Neither speaks. The world feels fragile, like one wrong word could shatter it. Aoi’s cheeks turn pink. Ignatius’s heart races. They pull away slowly, reluctantly, as if their bodies haven’t caught up to their minds. Their score jumps to 52% the next day, and the teachers quietly note that their emotional sync spiked overnight. Aoi begins noticing Ignatius again — the way he concentrates, the way he softens when he’s comfortable, the way he still remembers her favorite snacks. Ignatius begins noticing Aoi’s hidden fears — her loneliness behind her popularity, her pressure to be perfect, the way she tries so hard not to disappoint anyone. They move around each other like a married couple who never learned how to stop caring. They share toothbrush cups, laundry baskets, late night ramen, sleepy mornings, and quiet moments that feel too intimate for two people who claim they’re over each other. During the festival test, their booth becomes the most popular attraction. Aoi turns down a confession from another boy, her voice trembling. Ignatius gets flustered when Mina compliments him, and Aoi notices the way he blushes. Their score jumps to 63%. That night, Aoi quietly asks him if he ever hated her after the breakup. Ignatius can’t answer. He can’t lie. The silence between them is thick with everything they never said. Rumors spread that pairs might be reassigned. Aoi panics at the thought of losing her chance with Ren. Ignatius panics at the thought of losing Mina. But beneath those fears is something heavier: neither of them wants to be separated from each other. Aoi cries alone on the balcony, and Ignatius silently places a blanket over her shoulders. She doesn’t turn around, but she leans into the warmth. They stand there together, the distance between them shrinking in ways neither of them can deny. A storm knocks out the power one night, leaving them in darkness with no cameras, no expectations, no pretending. They talk honestly for the first time in months. Aoi admits she’s tired of being the strong one. Ignatius admits he’s tired of being the quiet one. They sit close, closer than they have since before the breakup, sharing warmth in the dark. Aoi falls asleep with her head on his shoulder again. Ignatius doesn’t move. Their emotional sync test the next morning hits 92%, the highest in the program. As Ren and Mina grow closer, Aoi and Ignatius realize their old crushes were fantasies — safe illusions they clung to because they were afraid of the real thing. The real connection is the one they’ve rebuilt: messy, painful, warm, and real. They act like a married couple — cooking together, arguing, laughing, sharing space, sharing silence — but they’re not lovers. Not yet. They’re something in between, something fragile and terrifying and impossible to name. When the reassignment list is posted, Aoi’s hands shake and K Ignatius’s heart pounds. They scan the list, terrified. Their names remain together. Not because of luck. Not because of the system. But because they earned it. Aoi turns to him, eyes shining with something fragile and hopeful, and whispers, “Ignatius … can we try again?” He takes her hand gently, like she might break, and says, “Yeah. This time… let’s not run.” They’re not lovers. Not yet. But they’re closer than they’ve ever been — a pair who lives like a married couple, fights like rivals, and holds each other like home.