Dramatic Action Manga

Page 1 The stadium roars. A sea of voices crashes like waves—cheering, screaming, gasping. Scoreboard blinks: 2 - 2. High school finals. Last minute. The ball cuts through the air— Passed to Kisaki. Page 2 Eyes lock onto him. Number 10. The prodigy. The pressure. His breath slows. He plants his left foot. Right leg coils like a spring. “This is it.” Page 3 The crowd holds its breath. Time freezes. Kisaki’s eyes narrow. He swings. BOOM. The ball flies— Page 4 —wide. Silence. Then— Gasps. Shock. Disbelief. Page 5 Coach: “KISAKI!!!” Teammates: “No way…” Opponents: stunned. Kisaki: Blank. Empty. He stares at the goal. Then— He drops. Knees hit the turf. Head down. Hands trembling. Page 6 TWEEEEET. Final whistle. It’s over. Kisaki doesn’t move. The crowd erupts again—this time, not for him. He’s alone in the noise. A hero fallen. A dream missed. A moment that will haunt.
ACT 1 – The Illusion Jia Wen wakes up at 5AM every school day. She: Spends two hours grooming. Wears replica luxury items. Arrives early so no one sees her taking the bus. Leaves late so no one questions how she goes home. Her Instagram is curated carefully: OOTDs. Café shots. Luxury-inspired captions. Her classmates assume she’s rich. For the first time, she feels noticed. One day at the school café, a guy accidentally spills orange juice on her designer bag. She overreacts. Someone records it. The clip goes viral on TikTok: “Pretty girl with attitude over $4k bag.” People start searching for her Instagram. Her follower count explodes overnight. She feels powerful. For the first time— She thinks the lie might actually become real. ACT 2 – Exposure A comment appears: “That bag isn’t authentic.” Soon, an anonymous account posts comparison photos: Stitching flaws Logo misalignment Screenshots from Taobao listings More posts follow: Zoom-ins on every outfit. Breakdowns of every item. Her followers spike again—but now it’s mockery. In school: Whispers. Side glances. People stop talking when she walks past. Her best friend confronts her: “Why didn’t you just tell me?” The betrayal hurts more than the public humiliation. Then it escalates. The hate account posts: “Her dad drives Grab.” That breaks her. Not because it’s untrue— But because she never wanted her family dragged into her insecurity. ACT 3 – The Boy Who Stayed Ethan, the guy from the juice incident, starts sitting near her during lectures. Not dramatically. Just quietly. He never commented on the scandal. He knew the bag was fake. But he never said anything. One day she snaps at him: “You think this is funny?” He replies calmly: “No. I think you were scared.” They begin having small conversations. He reveals: Growing up rich didn’t mean freedom. He’s expected to take over the family business. Every relationship he’s had was influenced by money. He doesn’t see her as fake. He sees someone trying to survive social pressure. Their connection builds slowly. Through shared lunches. Late-night project work. Honest conversations. No dramatic flirting. Just understanding. CLIMAX – The Choice A mid-tier fashion brand reaches out to Jia Wen. They offer her a paid collaboration. Condition: Lean into the “luxury aesthetic.” She hesitates. At the same time, the hate account threatens to expose more about her family. She realises: If she keeps pretending, this cycle will never stop. So she does something unexpected. She goes live on Instagram. No filters. No luxury backdrop. She admits: The bags were fake. She wanted people to think she was rich. She was ashamed of her normal life. Then she says: “I thought if I looked expensive, I would feel worth more.” She posts a photo of: Her HDB block. Her dad’s car. Her mum’s uniform. Her followers drop. Silence. Resolution Days later, a small local thrift fashion brand reaches out. They don’t want luxury. They want authenticity. She begins rebuilding her page: Budget styling. Real student life. Honest captions. Her following grows slowly—but it’s real. Ethan confesses—not when she’s trending, but when she’s rebuilding quietly. “I liked you before the bag. I liked you after it disappeared too.” She asks him: “Why didn’t you expose me?” He answers: “Because I didn’t want to win by humiliating someone.” They don’t rush into a perfect romance. They start dating slowly. As equals. Without performance. Ending Theme The story ends with Jia Wen walking to school in daylight. No hiding. No leaving early. No staying late. Someone recognises her—not as the fake luxury girl. But as herself. And this time, she doesn’t look away.
RISE ABOVE THE CLOUDS PANEL:1 Morning sky,soft golden clouds Narattor:Every sky begins with a sunrise … and every hero begins with a doubt Tharaneesh: what if I’m not strong enough? PANEL:2 Sarveswaran flying beside him Sarveswaran:strength isn’t power .its belief PANEL:3 Broken sky bridge hanging between clouds . Narrator :the sky bridge collapse leaving many clouds villagers trapped Villages :helping us ! PANEL:4 Tharaneesh looks down nervous Tharaneesh : its too for .... I might fall PANEL:5 Sarveswaran places a hand on his shoulder Sarveswaran :courage is talking the step anyway PANEL:6 Tharaneesh leeds-light sorrounds SFX :SHINE ! NARATTOR :The movements he believed, the sky responds PANEL:7 Sky bridge reforms with glowing Villagers :you did it PANEL:8 Tharaneesh smiles , standing taller Tharaneesh :I guess I was strong all alone . FINAL PANEL Both heroes watching the sunset Narattor:when you rise above fear ,you didn’t just touch the sky
On a quiet winter morning, Haru wakes up feeling strange. The blanket feels heavier, his hands look smaller, and his voice sounds softer. A gentle warmth spreads through his body, unfamiliar yet oddly comforting. Snowflakes drift outside the window, casting a soft glow into the room. Mio enters, calling his name with concern. Her eyes widen as she sees him — changed, quiet, confused. She doesn’t panic. Instead, she calmly says she’ll prepare clothes and guide him through this. Moments later, Haru stands in the bathroom, staring at his reflection. His body is different, but the warmth remains. Mio leaves a soft, neutral outfit outside the door — nothing flashy, just something safe and comforting. After the shower, Haru dresses slowly, adjusting to the new sensations. He walks into the kitchen where Mio waits with a warm meal. She smiles gently and says, “You’re okay… I’m here.” The snow continues to fall outside, but inside, everything feels still — like the beginning of something new.
🔹 BÖLÜM 1 – SESSİZLİKTEN ÖNCE Scene 1 Panel 1 (Wide Panel) Night cityscape. Flickering streetlights. Long shadows stretch across buildings. Narration Box: “Some nights feel heavier than others. Even silence holds tension.” Panel 2 (Wide Panel) Three figures standing on a rooftop, overlooking the city. Panel 3 (Close-up – Polat) Muscular body, clenched fists, calm but intense eyes. Thought Bubble (Polat): This city… something’s wrong again. Panel 4 (Medium Shot – Yigit) Glasses reflecting light, hands in pockets. Speech Bubble (Yigit): “Even the wind changed direction.” Panel 5 (Medium Shot – Arda) Standing at the edge, hair moving in the wind, eyes glowing slightly. Speech Bubble (Arda): “This city isn’t the same anymore.” Panel 6 (Close-up – Yigit adjusting glasses) Speech Bubble (Yigit): “Nothing stays the same.” “But some things can still be controlled.” Panel 7 (Close-up – Polat) Speech Bubble (Polat): “That’s why we’re here.” Panel 8 (Silent Panel) Metallic sound echoes from afar. SFX: CLANG…
Character 1 turns to character 3. Character 1: "Solvias! I command you to take Arctos to safety." Character 3: "Yes my lord!" Character 1: "I shall face Marius myself..." Character 2: "No Father! Please!" Character 1: "Follow this Pegasus and stay safe my son. You must lead our people now." Character 2, trembles but nods. Character 3: "Fly now my Prince!" Character 2 and 3 fly from the basin. Character 1 watches them fly away and says solemnly ; "Survive my son..."
Ten years ago, Ren Kaito was the "Miracle Prodigy" of youth football. But after a devastating knee injury and a string of poor performances in the lower leagues, the world branded him a "glass cannon" who couldn't keep up with the modern game. The story begins as Ren is recruited by a struggling bottom-tier club for one final season. He is mocked by the media and his own teammates. Standing in his way is the "Emperor of the Pitch," Julian Vane, a physical specimen who plays with machine-like efficiency and has never lost a professional match. The story follows Ren’s journey as he reinvents his playstyle—moving away from raw speed to "perfect spatial awareness"—leading to a final showdown where the doubted veteran must prove that genius isn't outgrown; it’s evolved.
THE SEVEN: AWAKENING OF THE LOST GENDER ​Scene 1: The World of Silence (Year 2126) ​Duniya poori tarah badal chuki hai. Ek mahavinash (catastrophe) ne 100 saal pehle saare mardon ko khatam kar diya tha. Ab dharti par sirf auraton ka raaj hai, jinhone nature aur advanced technology ko milakar ek naya samaj banaya hai. Mardon ka zikr ab sirf purani kitabon aur dhuandhli kisse-kahaniyon mein bacha hai. Shehar se door "Khabdar" naam ke ek prohibited zone mein, Dr. Raghavan (South Indian Genius) ki banayi hui ek underground lab sadiyon se dabi hui hai.
I stood near a hologram of a young boy no older than nine with silver hair and green eyes. His name was Lis Tolope. He was born in a noble family but almost immediately they send him to an orphanage because he was an earth mana user instead of their traditional light and dark. Lis spent his whole life believing his parents either died or wanted him to be safe until the day seven year old little shit tripped him breaking a button on the instead of his pants helping him recollect the night his parents abandoned him. After remembering he went to their house to check on them finding they had six children living with them–made their abandonment of him twice as hurtful.
tydasuk estaria treinando seus golpes de Taekwondo, ansioso para o próximo torneio que ira vir, usando um kimono que japoneses usam, então seu vô interfer seu treino, acalmando tydasuk e que ele precisa acreditar na própria força, então tydasuk fica aliviado, e agradece seu vô pela mensagem positiva, então seu vô diz que ira treinar junto com eles, e ambos acabam treinando juntos, para tydasuk fica mais forte para o próximo torneio
Shounen manga, near-future. 1 panel only. Panel 1: Wide cinematic shot of Arcadia Sovereign Academy, a gigantic ultra-modern school complex on an artificial island at sunrise. Sleek towers, bridges, and a huge exam building, with crowds of nervous teenagers in school uniforms lining up outside for the entrance exam. In the foreground, one boy stands out: Kanzaki Reo, a confident first-year candidate with messy dark-gold hair and sharp amber eyes, hands in his pockets, looking relaxed and slightly amused while everyone else looks tense. Big caption at the top: “Arcadia Sovereign Academy – where future rulers are chosen.” Manga style, clean shounen lineart, high contrast, dynamic composition.
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.
Part Two: The Decline Three months later. The tent was half-empty. Cinder flipped through the air, landed perfectly, juggled the flaming pins with the same precision—but the applause was thin. Scattered. A few polite claps from the families who’d bothered to show up. She forced her smile wider. Bowed deeper. Added an extra spin. Nothing. The little girl who used to sit in the front row wasn’t there anymore. After the show, Cinder stood alone in the center ring, staring at the empty seats. Dust motes floated through the fading spotlight. The silence pressed against her ears. "Pathetic." She turned. The Ringmaster stood at the edge of the ring, face shadowed, arms crossed. "Sir, I—" "The crowds are leaving because of you." His voice was cold. Sharp. "You’re stale. Boring. A one-trick pony—or should I say, one-trick mutt." Her tail tucked instinctively. "I can learn new tricks. I’ll practice harder—" "I’ve already made arrangements." He turned away. "There’s a new act coming. Someone with real talent." The words hit like a punch to the gut. "You’re replaceable, Cinder. Don’t forget that." He walked away, boots echoing on the wooden floor. Cinder stood frozen, flames still flickering on the pins in her hands. Slowly, she let them drop. They clattered to the ground, extinguished. Weeks passed.
it needs to be in color Cinder practiced until her muscles screamed. New flips. Higher jumps. More fire. She pushed herself until she collapsed, panting, ears ringing. It didn’t matter. The crowds kept shrinking. The other performers stopped meeting her eyes. The vendors no longer offered her treats. The strongman walked past her without a word. She was invisible. One night, she overheard the Ringmaster talking outside her wagon. "The new performer arrives next week. Finally, we’ll have a real star again." "What about Cinder?" someone asked. "What about her? She’s done. Once the new act is settled, she’s out." Cinder pressed her back against the wall of her wagon, heart pounding. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps. Out. Replaceable. Done. She looked around her "room"—if you could call it that. A cramped wagon with iron bars on the windows. A thin mattress on the floor. A cracked mirror. The door locked from the outside every night "for her safety." She’d never noticed before how much it looked like a cage.
Full color manga panels. No text, no speech bubbles. A snowy mountain path during a storm. In the distance, a tall man (Frost) walks steadily through the snow, his figure cutting through the harsh wind. Far ahead of him, a young wolf-girl stands facing him, her body tense against the cold. The wolf-girl’s eyes sharpen as she recognizes him through the storm. Her expression shifts rapidly, a flash of relief and happiness crossing her face as her tail lifts behind her. As he approaches closer, his presence calm and unwavering, her expression tightens. The initial warmth fades, replaced by a stubborn, slightly upset look. Her arms pull closer to her body, her posture closing off. Frost finally stands in front of her, composed and steady, a subtle, warm smile forming on his face as snow falls around them. The contrast between his calm and her conflicted emotions fills the moment.
Full color manga panels. No text, no speech bubbles. A snowy mountain path during a storm. In the distance, a tall man (Frost) walks steadily through the snow, his figure cutting through the harsh wind. Far ahead of him, a young wolf-girl stands facing him, her body tense against the cold. The wolf-girl’s eyes sharpen as she recognizes him through the storm. Her expression shifts rapidly, a flash of relief and happiness crossing her face as her tail lifts behind her. As he approaches closer, his presence calm and unwavering, her expression tightens. The initial warmth fades, replaced by a stubborn, slightly upset look. Her arms pull closer to her body, her posture closing off. Frost finally stands in front of her, composed and steady, a subtle, warm smile forming on his face as snow falls around them. The contrast between his calm and her conflicted emotions fills the moment.
it needs to be in color( no weapon no book) Her fingers traced the cold iron bars. How many nights had she spent here? How many times had she counted the bars, unable to sleep? The space smelled like hay and rust and old wood. There were scratches in the walls—claw marks from previous performers, maybe. Or from her own restless nights. She curled up on the mattress, tail wrapped around herself, ears flat against her skull. "I’m a bird trapped in a cage," she whispered to the darkness. The lantern flickered. And then—movement outside her window. A tall figure passed by, silhouetted against the moonlight. Cinder sat up, ears perking. The figure wore a long coat and a plague doctor mask—the beak curved and sharp. But strangest of all, faint stars seemed to glow across the mask’s surface, like constellations trapped in porcelain. Her heart skipped. Who—? The figure moved silently through the sleeping circus, heading toward the edge of the grounds. For the first time in weeks, she felt something other than despair. Curiosity.
it needs to be in color( no weapon no book) Her fingers traced the cold iron bars. How many nights had she spent here? How many times had she counted the bars, unable to sleep? The space smelled like hay and rust and old wood. There were scratches in the walls—claw marks from previous performers, maybe. Or from her own restless nights. She curled up on the mattress, tail wrapped around herself, ears flat against her skull. "I’m a bird trapped in a cage," she whispered to the darkness. The lantern flickered. And then—movement outside her window. A tall figure passed by, silhouetted against the moonlight. Cinder sat up, ears perking. The figure wore a long coat and a plague doctor mask—the beak curved and sharp. But strangest of all, faint stars seemed to glow across the mask’s surface, like constellations trapped in porcelain. Her heart skipped. Who—? The figure moved silently through the sleeping circus, heading toward the edge of the grounds. For the first time in weeks, she felt something other than despair. Curiosity.
it needs to be in color( no weapon no book) Her fingers traced the cold iron bars. How many nights had she spent here? How many times had she counted the bars, unable to sleep? The space smelled like hay and rust and old wood. There were scratches in the walls—claw marks from previous performers, maybe. Or from her own restless nights. She curled up on the mattress, tail wrapped around herself, ears flat against her skull. "I’m a bird trapped in a cage," she whispered to the darkness. The lantern flickered. And then—movement outside her window. A tall figure passed by, silhouetted against the moonlight. Cinder sat up, ears perking. The figure wore a long coat and a plague doctor mask—the beak curved and sharp. But strangest of all, faint stars seemed to glow across the mask’s surface, like constellations trapped in porcelain. Her heart skipped. Who—? The figure moved silently through the sleeping circus, heading toward the edge of the grounds. For the first time in weeks, she felt something other than despair. Curiosity.
it needs to be in color( no weapon no book) Her fingers traced the cold iron bars. How many nights had she spent here? How many times had she counted the bars, unable to sleep? The space smelled like hay and rust and old wood. There were scratches in the walls—claw marks from previous performers, maybe. Or from her own restless nights. She curled up on the mattress, tail wrapped around herself, ears flat against her skull. "I’m a bird trapped in a cage," she whispered to the darkness. The lantern flickered. And then—movement outside her window. A tall figure passed by, silhouetted against the moonlight. Cinder sat up, ears perking. The figure wore a long coat and a plague doctor mask—the beak curved and sharp. But strangest of all, faint stars seemed to glow across the mask’s surface, like constellations trapped in porcelain. Her heart skipped. Who—? The figure moved silently through the sleeping circus, heading toward the edge of the grounds. For the first time in weeks, she felt something other than despair. Curiosity.
Tavola 1: La Solitudine Composizione: Inquadratura larga (long shot) dal basso verso l'alto. Soggetto: Tomoya Okazaki cammina da solo lungo il sentiero in salita verso la scuola. I petali di ciliegio cadono ovunque. Testo (Pensiero di Tomoya): "Odio questa città. È piena di ricordi che vorrei cancellare." Elementi per l'AI: Stile manga seinen/shoujo, bianco e nero, retini (screentones) per le ombre dei ciliegi, focus sulla prospettiva della strada in salita. Tavola 2: L'Incontro Composizione: Primo piano (close-up) o piano medio. Soggetto: Nagisa Furukawa è ferma a metà della salita, con lo sguardo rivolto verso l'alto, come se stesse parlando a se stessa. Tomoya si ferma poco lontano, osservandola. Testo (Nagisa): "Anpan... Ti piace questo posto?" Elementi per l'AI: Linee sottili, espressione malinconica ma dolce, petali in primo piano sfocati (effetto bokeh), divisa scolastica dettagliata.
The story is about an 8-year-old young girl who finds herself on a mysterious island and she finds that there is not alot of food and her stomach starts growling and she knew she was starting to get hungry as she knew her stomach wouldnt stop after it did its first stomach growl. So she found this tree which grows these special fruits which after she eats one of the fruits to fill her still empty tummy she finds that she was transforming into a monster of some kind as she was growing bigger and her hair was growing longer and rapidly covering her eyes plus she could feel her stomach become more toned as the transformation continued until it stopped and she noticed her new looks and body while looking in the lake near the tree that she got the fruits from. The girl now bigger would use her new body to build herself a temporary shelter within a cave where she would stay as the effects would wear off and she would slowly become younger and would eventually return to her 8-year old self with her toned stomach and longer hair being a reminder of her previous transformation.
Miu has two-tone hair, one side white and the other black. Hange has brown hair in a ponytail. Eren has short brown hair and Levi has short black hair. Miu and Hange are walking down the hall and talking. They hear a commotion coming from Eren's room and decide to paint him. They open his door. They sit on Eren's bed and paint Eren's face. Miu and Hange laugh. Hange suddenly sees Eren waking up and decides to paint himself too. Miu stares at her nervously. When Eren wakes up, he looks surprised. Hange points at Miu and Eren catches her and Hange paints her. They laugh so hard that Levi bursts into the room with his typical angry expression and starts muttering something. Miu looks at Levi nervously and tries to smile. Levi looks away and starts laughing. Then he grabs Miu's hand and pulls her away. When they are alone, Miu watches him nervously. And Levi laughs at her.
Miu has two-tone hair, one side white and the other black. Hange has brown hair in a ponytail. Eren has short brown hair and Levi has short black hair. Miu and Hange are walking down the hall and talking. They hear a commotion coming from Eren's room and decide to paint him. They open his door. They sit on Eren's bed and paint Eren's face. Miu and Hange laugh. Hange suddenly sees Eren waking up and decides to paint himself too. Miu stares at Hange nervously.Because Hange Betrayed Miu When Eren wakes up, he looks surprised. Hange points at Miu and Eren catches Miu and Hange paints her. They laugh so hard that Levi bursts into the room with his typical angry expression and starts muttering something. Miu looks at Levi nervously and tries to smile. And say nervously ,,Hi Levi." Levi looks away and starts laughing in room. Then he grabs Miu's hand and pulls her away. When they are alone, Miu watches him nervously. And Levi laughs at her.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching.
PÁGINA 1 Prompt para Geração de Imagem: "Página de mangá estilo shounen, leitura da direita para a esquerda. 4 quadrinhos grandes: 1. Quadrinhos superior direito: Paisagem ampla do Monte Fuji ao fundo, vila japonesa antiga à beira de um rio, sol poente pintando o céu de laranja/amarelo. Um jovem (Marcos) de cabelos castanhos, vestindo roupa de guerreiro com detalhes verdes/amarelos, segura uma katana com lâmina escura e detalhes coloridos que brilham suavemente. Narração: 'PERÍODO SENGOKU — Nas margens do Monte Fuji, uma pequena vila abriga um jovem com laços para uma terra distante...' 2. Quadrinhos abaixo: Plano médio em Marcos, olhos fechados. Luzes verdes/azuis flutuam ao seu redor, silhueta de onça-pintada ao fundo. Fala: 'A terra me fala... Ela sente quando algo está errado.' 3. Quadrinhos superior esquerdo: Ninja (Felyppe) de cabelos loiros claros, vestes escuras, cinto com ferramentas/shurikens precisas, pulando entre telhados. Fala: 'Os sinais estão claros. O Clã Kuroyami já está por perto. Precisamos estar prontos.' Nota lateral: 'Ferramentas criadas com conhecimentos de meus ancestrais alemães.' 4. Quadrinhos abaixo: Marcos e Felyppe de frente um para o outro, sombras de samurais de preto se aproximando ao fundo. Fala: 'Eles vieram mais cedo do que esperávamos!' Linhas de velocidade ao redor das sombras. Estilo: Mangá clássico, linhas nítidas, contraste bem definido."*
A weary male figure in his late 20s, messy and unkempt dark hair, prominent dark circles under sunken eyes, a gaunt face with a stubble, wearing a tattered dark trench coat over a high-collared black tactical outfit, a melancholic and detached expression. A young woman with a radiant face, sparkling eyes, a warm and gentle smile, long flowing hair, wearing a soft pastel-colored cardigan over a simple white dress, holding an umbrella in one hand and reaching out with the other, an expression of pure kindness. A man with sharp facial features and a stern gaze, wearing a classic brown trench coat, a tailored suit underneath, a fedora hat slightly tilted, holding a thick file and a lit cigarette between his fingers, looking intensely focused. A young man with a focused and reliable look, messy short hair, wearing a loose hoodie and a leather jacket, sitting behind the wheel of a sports car, glancing back over his shoulder with a knowing and serious expression. A weary man with a dark coat standing alone in a rainy city street at night, looking dejected. A young woman with a bright smile walks up to him, holding an umbrella over both of them and offering a warm blanket. He looks at her with surprise and hesitation. A tired-looking man in a dark trench coat running through a dark alleyway, looking over his shoulder. Behind him, a detective in a suit and hat is pursuing, shining a flashlight and holding up a police badge, his face determined. Two young men rushing towards a sleek car parked in a back alley. The protagonist, looking exhausted, is being helped into the passenger seat by his friend, who is dressed in a hoodie. The friend has a serious expression and is looking back to check for pursuers. Inside a simple, warm apartment. A young woman is gently tending to a small cut on the hand of the weary-looking protagonist, who is sitting at her kitchen table. He watches her work with a conflicted expression, his true identity hidden.
Crée un univers original de manga/anime avec les caractéristiques suivantes : 1. **Cadre (Décor & Monde)** - Type d’univers : [futuriste / médiéval fantastique / contemporain avec éléments surnaturels] - Lieu principal : [ville, royaume, école, planète] - Ambiance visuelle : [néon cyberpunk, pastel lumineux, sombre gothique, traditionnel japonais] 2. **Personnages principaux** - Héros : [nom, âge, traits physiques, personnalité, objectif] - Antagoniste : [nom, motivation, style visuel, pouvoir] - Alliés secondaires : [2-3 personnages avec rôle et dynamique] 3. **Thèmes & Messages** - Thème central : [amitié, quête de pouvoir, lutte contre l’injustice, amour interdit] - Message sous-jacent : [espoir, résilience, corruption du pouvoir, équilibre entre tradition et modernité] 4. **Éléments narratifs clés** - Conflit principal : [guerre, tournoi, rivalité, survie] - Événements déclencheurs : [attaque, découverte d’un pouvoir, trahison] - Progression : [arc d’apprentissage → arc de confrontation → arc de révélation] 5. **Style visuel et animation** - Palette de couleurs dominante : [chaude, froide, contrastée] - Style graphique : [shōnen dynamique, seinen réaliste, shōjo élégant] - Animation : [fluide et énergique, atmosphérique et contemplative] Donne une description détaillée et cohérente de cet univers, en mettant l’accent sur l’immersion visuelle et émotionnelle.
Chapter 3: The Whisper in the Forest (Rewritten) The academy grounds were quiet after the sparring match. Most students had gone home, still buzzing about the clash between Shawn, Jaden, and Isaiah. The three of them stayed behind, each unsettled by what had just happened. None of them had expected the match to end the way it did — with strange flickers of power none of them could explain. Shawn stood on the rooftop, his black cloak fluttering in the wind. A sleek, angular mask covered the lower half of his face, hiding his expression. Beneath it, his 1-Tomoe Hoshigan pulsed faintly, spinning slowly. He clenched his fist. Something inside me is waking up. Down below, Jaden leaned against a training post. His hair was spiked and wild, and he wore a black shirt with one long sleeve and one short. His Byakugan was active, veins bulging at his temples. He flipped a kunai in his hand, but his usual smirk was gone. That thing I felt… it wasn’t mine. But it was watching. Isaiah stood at the edge of the woods, his dreadlock-like hair swaying slightly. A thick fur collar wrapped around his neck, and his eyes were locked on the trees. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. But he felt it — something in the forest was staring back. A breeze rustled the leaves. Isaiah’s hand twitched toward his blade. Nothing. But the feeling didn’t leave. That night, the three of them were summoned to the headmaster’s office. The room was dim, lit only by a single lantern. Scrolls lined the walls, and a large map of the village was pinned behind the desk. The headmaster, an older shinobi with a long scar across his jaw, studied them in silence. “You three,” he said finally, “are different.” They didn’t respond. “I don’t know what’s inside you. But I’ve seen enough to know this — something is coming. And when it does, you’ll either be our greatest hope… or our greatest threat.” He turned to the window. “Tomorrow, you’ll be sent on your first mission. A simple patrol. But stay sharp. The forest has been… restless.” Outside, the wind howled. And deep in the woods, something opened its eyes.
A final low-angle side view, still slightly from behind, freezes the moment where the two girls are one in front of the other: the nearer girl's is leaning slight forward to the girl she is talking to, creating a small crescent shadow under her shoe; the farther girl's has her feet closed to eachother standing elegantly. The banded sunlight narrows into brighter stripes on the floor; the locker vents cast thin vertical shadows. it's all in black and white. The secondo pannel is the girl with black that is composed and smiles, her mouth is slightly open as she speaks, we can see the first chaarcter’s head from behind cause she is slightly Lea ed forward to the other girl to see her better and analyze her
seorang perempuan bernama olin yang mengalami transmigrasi ke dunia komik,memasuki karakter dicky yang ternyata adalah perempuan yang menyembunyikan gender nya kerana suatu hal,dicky memiliki intrik yang ambigu dengan kedua saudara kembar daffa dan darren.saat pesta dansa dicky ingin istirahat dan berjalan keruang istirahat kerajaan,namun dia salah memasuki ruangan.dicky mengunci pintu ruangan dan melepas cicin transformasinya yang membuatnya berubah menjadi wujud perempuan yaitu lyn.namun saat dia sedang istirahat memejamkan mata di sofa, dia tidak mendari keberadaan darren dan daffa yang sedang berada di sudut ruangan tidak sengaja melihat semua hal itu
A young woman in her late twenties/early thirties has taken in her nephew after his dad dropped him on her doorstep. She must now balance the responsibilities of a growing career, navigate the dating scene, and care for a 6 year-old boy. People often mistake the child as hers and she receives mixed reactions (some believing she had children too young, or that she was frivolous since the child does not have a dad). She has difficulty navigating the dating scene as most guys are not interested in a woman who already has a young child. It is a romantic comedy that depicts a healthy and loving mother-son relationship between the young woman and her essentially adopted child. It shows people's ability to judge without knowing the details, the harsh reality of being a young mom, and the kindness of a man willing to love the young woman and her adopted son unconditionally.
### Quick hook Open the chapter with a single, unforgettable image that establishes **tone**, **setting**, and the **thread motif**. The first page should feel warm and intimate at first, then leave a small, uncanny sting that promises larger stakes. --- #### Page layout — panel-by-panel (recommended) 1. **Full-width splash (top third)** **Visual:** Golden-hour Bangladeshi village playground; children loop colored yarn between trees; the child-mother is laughing. **Caption (small, lyrical):** a line of the lullaby/proverb that doubles as ritual instruction. **Purpose:** immediate emotional anchor; nostalgia. 2. **Three narrow horizontal panels (middle row)** **Panel A:** Close-up of small hands tying a simple knot; thread texture visible. **Panel B:** Elder watching from a doorway, expression unreadable; soft shadow across their face. **Panel C:** The child’s face, eyes bright, mid-laugh. **Purpose:** tactile detail; introduces the ritual mechanics visually. 3. **Inset circular panel (overlapping middle panels)** **Visual:** A tiny fray in the thread, magnified; a single loose fiber. **Sound/Effect:** a faint onomatopoeia like *sssh* rendered very small. **Purpose:** the first hint of danger; a micro-leak that the reader notices before the characters do. 4. **Two vertical panels (lower left)** **Panel A:** The elder’s hand reaching toward the frayed thread but not touching it. **Panel B:** The child continuing to play, oblivious. **Purpose:** tension between knowledge and innocence. 5. **Lower-right full-bleed panel (bottom)** **Visual:** A sepia-toned archival photograph pinned to a tree or wall, slightly askew; captioned with a redacted note or a single date. **Caption (documentary font):** a terse line linking a “minor slip” to a past event. **Purpose:** immediate narrative hook that promises consequences beyond the playground. --- ### Visual and tonal notes - **Color:** warm, soft palette for the splash; desaturate the archival panel to sepia for contrast. - **Linework:** rounded, gentle lines in childhood panels; use a thin, fraying line motif on the thread itself. - **Gutter device:** a thin drawn thread runs along the page gutter connecting panels; where the fray appears, the thread is visibly thinner. --- ### Sound, pacing, and rhythm - **Silence as sound:** keep the ritual/action panels quiet; use minimal onomatopoeia. - **Pacing:** linger on the knot close-up with two panels instead of one to let readers feel the tactile weight. - **Transition:** the archival panel should feel like a cold cut—a tonal shift that turns nostalgia into foreboding. --- ### Emotional beats to hit on page one - **Warmth:** establish the mother’s childhood joy so the later burden lands emotionally. - **Unease:** seed a single, small anomaly (the fray) that the reader will carry forward. - **Curiosity:** end with the archival hint so readers want to know how this innocent scene ties to larger consequences. --- ### Final micro-direction Make the page readable at a glance but rich on re-reads. The first page’s job is to make readers care about the child, notice the thread, and feel the chill of the archival clue.
Okay, so today started like any normal day, but I should’ve known something bad was about to happen. First off, I woke up late (again). My mom had to knock on my door at least 15 times before I actually opened my eyes. I think she was trying to wake up a sloth because I was moving that slowly. But the real problem wasn’t the time—it was the whole "getting out of bed" thing. My blanket was so comfy I almost became one with it. After finally stumbling out of bed, I went to the bathroom. That’s when I realized my mistake: I didn’t check the toilet paper. The roll was empty. EMPTY! I swear, the bathroom was mocking me, with the empty roll staring me down like a villain in a superhero movie. You know how there are always those three pieces of toilet paper left on the roll that no one can ever seem to use properly? Yeah, well, I thought I could manage it, but nope. It was like trying to write a letter with a pencil that’s too short to hold. Useless. So, I had to make a mad dash to the kitchen to grab a paper towel, looking like I was auditioning for the Olympics in the "running awkwardly with pants half on" category. When I finally came out of the bathroom, I was greeted by my little brother, Sam, who was eating cereal like a monster. I mean, he was literally slurping it like he was trying to suck up a swimming pool. "What’s up, Darek? You look like you just saw a ghost," he said, which is hilarious coming from a kid who still wears dinosaur pajamas at age 9. By the time I made it to the kitchen, my mom was in full “mom mode,” yelling about me being late again. "Why do I always have to remind you, Darek?" she sighed dramatically, as if I was the first teenager in history to ever run behind schedule. I tried to explain that my shoes had mysteriously disappeared, but she wasn’t buying it. I’m pretty sure my dog, Muffin, ate them. She's a good dog, but she has no respect for footwear. Anyway, after my mom finally let me off the hook, I thought I was in the clear. But then came the bus. The bus. I don’t know how, but I somehow managed to trip over the front step and faceplant in front of half the school. I swear, it was like I was in some kind of bad TV show where embarrassing things happen every five minutes. As if that wasn’t bad enough, when I got to school, I realized that I’d forgotten my lunch. Again. So now, I had to survive on cafeteria mystery meat, which I’m pretty sure is made of recycled socks and disappointment. But don’t worry, things get better. I’m pretty sure.
it needs to be in color( no weapon no book) Cinder practiced until her muscles screamed. New flips. Higher jumps. More fire. She pushed herself until she collapsed, panting, ears ringing. It didn’t matter. The crowds kept shrinking. The other performers stopped meeting her eyes. The vendors no longer offered her treats. The strongman walked past her without a word. She was invisible. One night, she overheard the Ringmaster talking outside her wagon. "The new performer arrives next week. Finally, we’ll have a real star again." "What about Cinder?" someone asked. "What about her? She’s done. Once the new act is settled, she’s out." Cinder pressed her back against the wall of her wagon, heart pounding. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps. Out. Replaceable. Done. She looked around her "room"—if you could call it that. A cramped wagon with iron bars on the windows. A thin mattress on the floor. A cracked mirror. The door locked from the outside every night "for her safety." She’d never noticed before how much it looked like a cage.
Style: Colored, mature realistic manga. Night atmosphere. Intimate, cinematic lighting. Mood: Soft tension → release. ⸻ Panel 1 (Wide, inside the car at night) Parked car. Dark outside. Soft street light coming through the window. They’re sitting close but not touching yet. Small caption: Later… he came to see me again. ⸻ Panel 2 (Closer shot) Inside the car. Serious eye contact. Hands resting close but not touching. Dialogue (him): “Can I kiss you?” ⸻ Panel 3 (No text) The kiss. Soft, slow, not dramatic. Warm light from outside hitting their faces. No caption. Let the image breathe. ⸻ Panel 4 (Quiet moment after) Foreheads almost touching. Calm. Slight smiles. Small caption (optional): And everything changed
🟦 Panel 1 – Establishing Shot Scene: Sylhet Railway Station * Train ধীরে থামছে * Station sign visible * হালকা fog / morning light 👉 Text (optional): “Sylhet” 🟦 Panel 2 – Exit Moment Scene: Train door থেকে নামছে * পা মাটিতে পড়ার close shot * Slight slow motion feel 👉 SFX: “clank” 🟦 Panel 3 – Cigarette Smoke (Slow Motion) 🔥 Scene: Side profile * মুখ থেকে ধোঁয়া ধীরে বের হচ্ছে * Background blur 👉 No dialogue — শুধু vibe 🟦 Panel 4 – Eye Close-up (Attitude Shot) 👁️ Scene: এক চোখ close-up * Sharp look / tired but cool * Light reflection in eye 👉 Emotion: mysterious, calm 🟦 Panel 5 – Walking Through Station Scene: সে হাঁটছে * লোকজন blur * সে focus-এ 👉 Camera: follow shot 🟦 Panel 6 – Shop Interaction Scene: দোকান থেকে পানি + juice নিচ্ছে * হাতে টাকা দেওয়া * Bottle close-up 👉 Dialogue: “একটা পানি, একটা juice” 🟦 Panel 7 – CNG Ride (Ending Shot) 🚕 Scene: CNG-তে বসে Amborkhana-এর দিকে যাচ্ছে * City lights / রাস্তা * Side window দিয়ে বাইরে তাকানো 👉 Text: “Amborkhana”
this needs to be in color After the show, Cinder walked through the circus grounds, still buzzing with adrenaline. Performers clapped her shoulder. Vendors offered her candied apples. The strongman lifted her onto his shoulders for a victory lap. She belonged here. That night, curled up in her wagon, she stared at the wooden ceiling and thought about Ryan. Ryan. Her old street-performing partner. The one who’d taught her how to juggle when she was just a scrappy kid with oversized ears and a tail she couldn’t control. He’d always drop the third apple on purpose during their act—just to make the kids laugh. "One day, Cin," he’d said, grinning with that lopsided smile, "we’ll perform for kings and queens. We’ll be legends." She’d believed him. But when the circus scouts came through town, only Cinder had been chosen. Ryan had pushed her forward. "Go. You’re better than this street corner. I’ll catch up—I promise." That was three years ago. She wondered if he’d made it. If he was performing somewhere grand. If he still remembered her. Her ears drooped slightly. I hope you’re okay, Ryan.