Epic Introduction Manga

Character 1 turns to character 2, looking solemn. Character 1: "I failed you Arctos, my son." Character 2: (Trembling) "No Papa! You didn't." Thunder rumbles overhead. Character 1: "I did not deal with Marius when I should have. Now Maltus burns..." The ancient city is hit again and again by lighting.
# **MANGA — CHAPTER 1: THE UNKNOWN CREST** **Chapter Length:** ~45–55 pages **Style:** Clean fantasy lineart • strong lighting contrast • cinematic paneling --- ## **PAGE 1 (OPENING SPLASH)** **Full-page splash** A quiet classroom bathed in warm morning light. Dust floats in the air. Caption (top corner): **“Ordinary days don’t announce their end.”** --- ## **PAGES 2–5 — THE TEN STUDENTS** **Page 2** * Panel 1: Ayane solving equations effortlessly, chalk flying. * Panel 2: Ren smirking at a chess app on his phone (phone hidden under desk). * Panel 3: Mika sketching a horned monster—its eyes seem *almost alive*. **Page 3** * Panel 1: Haru stretching lazily at the back. * Panel 2: Yui asleep, sunlight on her face. * Panel 3: Shin typing rapidly, code reflected in his glasses. **Page 4** * Panel 1: Emi flipping flashcards, focused. * Panel 2: Daichi holding a mechanical puzzle. * Panel 3: Daiki leaning over, correcting him—twin synergy. **Page 5** * Panel 1 (wide): Sora staring out the window at the sky. * Panel 2 (close-up): Kaito’s notebook—**blank page**, only his name written. * Panel 3: Kaito’s eyes, observant but unsure. Caption: *“Everyone shines. Except me.”* --- ## **PAGES 6–8 — THE SUMMONING** **Page 6** * Panel 1: Classroom lights flicker. * Panel 2: Students look around, confused. * Panel 3 (low angle): Faint glowing symbols under desks. **Page 7** * Panel 1: Magic circle fully forms across the floor. * Panel 2: Wind explodes—papers and desks lift. * Panel 3: Students screaming as light engulfs them. **Page 8** * Full black page. Small white text in center: **“….”** --- ## **PAGES 9–12 — ANOTHER WORLD** **Page 9** * Panel 1: Kaito’s eyes snap open. * Panel 2: Cold marble beneath his hand. **Page 10** * Double-page spread: **Grand Summoning Hall**—crystal pillars, floating chandeliers, glowing runes. **Page 11** * Panels of knights surrounding them, weapons raised. * Students huddle together, panicked. **Page 12** * Tall figure steps forward—robes flowing. * Close-up of calm, ancient eyes. Caption: **“Archmage Eldorion.”** --- ## **PAGES 13–16 — THE TRUTH** **Page 13** * Eldorion explaining with a magic projection of the world cracking. **Page 14** * Visual metaphors: * A brain overlaid with magic circuits. * Symbols for logic, memory, creativity, empathy. Page 15 Students’ reactions—fear, determination, disbelief. Page 16 * Kaito silent in the back. Thought bubble: *“Intelligence… then why me?”* --- PAGES 17–26 — CREST AWAKENING **Page 17** * Crest Chamber revealed—massive, glowing apparatus. Pages 18–22 * Montage panels: * Crests manifesting clearly. * Fire, wind, light, calculation-based magic. * Chamber stable… controlled. Page 23 * Kaito steps forward. * Eldorion watching closely. Page 24 * The device flickers. * Runes shatter. * Darkness bleeds into the chamber. Page 25 Full-page spread: Kaito’s crest forming—**shifting, glitching, absorbing light. Page 26 * Eldorion’s shocked expression. Text (bold): “An Unknown Crest…? PAGES 27–34 — CONSEQUENCES** Page 27 * Outside the capital—alarm bells ringing. Page 28 * Rift tears open. * Massive silhouette emerging. Page 29 RIFT BEAST reveal—jagged, unstable form. Pages 30–32 * Students on battlements. * Some activate crests instinctively. * Minor monsters repelled. Page 33 Kaito trembling. His crest pulses faintly. Page 34 Magic around him stabilizes—cracks sealing without explosion. Others don’t notice. PAGES 35–40 — THE CHOICE Page 35 Eldorion shouting retreat orders. Page 36 Students pulling back. Page 37 Kaito watching the beast roar. Page 38 Close-up: fist clenched. Page 39 * He steps forward alone. * Air distorts around him. Page 40 * Crest glowing softly—*not violently*. --- PAGE 41 (FINAL PAGE — CLIFFHANGER) Full-page close-up Kaito’s calm eyes reflecting the Rift Beast. Bold text at the bottom: “If I can stop it… then I will.” NEXT CHAPTER PREVIEW “The First Battle — When Magic Breaks Its Own Rules."
Gemini के साथ बातचीत Create one best fighting anime Indian anime and with Japanese style and realistic The concept of a "realistic Indian fighting anime with a Japanese style" is a fascinating intersection of cultures. While a long-running TV series that fits this exact description is still a "holy grail" for fans, there are specific films and characters that bridge this gap perfectly. Here are the best examples that capture that specific realistic, Japanese-animated combat energy within an Indian context: 1. Ramayana: The Legend of Prince Rama (1992) This is the gold standard. It was a co-production between India and Japan, directed by Yugo Sako. The Style: Traditional 90s cel animation—the same era and quality as Princess Mononoke or Dragon Ball Z. The Realism: While it involves divine elements, the choreography of the archery and swordplay is grounded in classical Indian martial arts. The weight of the armor, the tension of the bows, and the environmental detail (Ayodhya, the forests, Lanka) are rendered with Japanese precision. Why it fits: It doesn’t feel like a "cartoon"; it feels like an epic anime film. 2. Arjun: The Warrior Prince (2012) Though technically an Indian production, it heavily utilizes the "Anime-esque" visual language (shading, dynamic "camera" movement, and high-contrast lighting). The Style: It uses a stylized 3D-on-2D look that mimics modern Japanese theatrical releases. The Fighting: This is arguably the most realistic depiction of Kalaripayattu and ancient Indian warfare in animation. The training sequences and the final Kurukshetra battle focus on physics, momentum, and tactical combat. 3. The "Fate" Series (Karna and Arjuna) If you want to see Indian characters in a high-budget, modern Japanese fighting anime, look at the Fate franchise (specifically Fate/Apocrypha and Fate/Grand Order). The Character: Karna (Lancer of Red) is portrayed as one of the most powerful and noble "Servants" in the series. The Fighting: His combat style is incredibly intense and animated by top-tier Japanese studios like A-1 Pictures. While it leans into "superpowered" territory, his movements are based on the mythic descriptions of his legendary skill. 4. Street Fighter II: V (The India Arc) For a realistic look at 1990s India through a Japanese lens, the "India Arc" in this series is iconic. The Context: Ryu and Ken travel to India to seek a master. They meet Dhalsim, who is portrayed not as a caricature, but as a wise, physically disciplined monk. The Vibe: The episodes capture the grit, heat, and atmosphere of Calcutta and rural India with a grounded, realistic aesthetic typical of 90s "World Tour" anime. Comparison of Styles Feature The Legend of Prince Rama Arjun: The Warrior Prince Fate Series (Karna) Animation Style Classic 90s Hand-drawn Stylized 3D/Cell-shaded Ultra-Modern Digital Combat Focus Tactical Archery/Epic Scale Martial Arts/Kalaripayattu High-Octane Supernatural Realism High (Cultural/Historical) High (Physics/Movement) Low (Fantasy/Power-scaling) Recommendation: If you want the "one best" experience, watch the 4K Remaster of Ramayana: The Legend of Prince Rama. It is the most authentic fusion of Indian soul and Japanese craft ever created. Mujhe is Manga Kar pahla chapter complete karna hai to uske hisab se ek achcha Sa prompt do Agar aap ek realistic, Japanese-style Indian fighting manga shuru karna chahte hain, toh pehla chapter (One-shot ya Pilot) hamesha "Atmosphere" aur "Physicality" par focus hona chahiye. Yahan ek behtareen prompt hai jise aap kisi bhi AI Image Generator (jaise Nano Banana 2) ya script-writing ke liye use kar sakte hain: Manga Title Concept: "Kalaris Curse" Setting: Kerala ka ek purana, mitti wala 'Kalari' (training pit) shaam ke waqt. Chapter 1 Plot Outline: "The Weight of the Soil" Opening (The Hook): Ek 19 saal ka ladka, Arjun, mitti se bhare pit mein akela khada hai. Uske shareer par pasina aur mitti lipti hui hai. Woh ek traditional Urumi (flexible sword) pakadne ki koshish kar raha hai, lekin uske haath kaanp rahe hain. The Conflict: Uske saamne uska "Guru" khada hai—ek buddha lekin behad mazboot aadmi jiske chehre par ek purana zakhm hai. Guru kahte hain: "Mitti wahi mangti hai jo tum dene se darr rahe ho—apna garv (pride)." The Fight: Guru achanak hamla karte hain. Action realistic hona chahiye—koi magic nahi, sirf momentum, bones ka chatakna, aur dhool (dust) ka udna. Arjun ko mitti mein patka jata hai. The Twist: Jab Arjun girta hai, toh use mitti ke andar ek purani, tooti hui talwar ki mooth (hilt) dikhti hai. Jaise hi woh use chhuta hai, ek purani "Yoddha" ki shadow uske piche dikhti hai. Ending: Arjun khada hota hai, uska stance (posture) badal chuka hai. Woh ab darr nahi raha. Last panel mein uski aankhein bilkul ek baaz (hawk) jaisi chamak rahi hain. Visual Prompt (For Image Generation) Agar aap chapter ke main cover ya pehle page ke liye image generate karna chahte hain, toh yeh use karein: Prompt: "Hyper-detailed Seinen manga style, black and white ink wash, high contrast. A young Indian martial artist with a lean, muscular build standing in a traditional Kerala Kalaripayattu pit. Dust motes dancing in the sunset light. He is wearing a traditional mundu, sweat glistening on his brown skin. Intense gaze, sharp Japanese-style facial features but distinctly Indian. Realistic anatomy, heavy line work like Takehiko Inoue's 'Vagabond'. The background shows ancient wooden pillars and traditional Indian weapons hanging on the wall. Cinematic low-angle shot."
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.
PAGE 1 — OPENING SPLASH (Atmosphere First) Panel 1 (Full-width horizontal splash) A sweeping view of the Himalayan range at night. Endless jagged peaks rise above a glowing sea of clouds. Northern lights twist slowly across the sky. Narration (top left, small, thin box): At the roof of the world… Snow drifts heavily in the wind. The atmosphere feels sacred — and wrong.
Super saiyan 5 goku vs serious saitama
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.
In an era where six Supremes mark the absolute ceiling of existence, the world moves under a quiet, grinding tension: five Supremes stand revealed, anchoring nations, deterring wars, and defining the limits of power, while the sixth vanished long ago without death, omen, or echo, leaving behind not silence but a sense of deliberate containment that only beings at that level can feel; kingdoms ring their borders with alliances and naval forces, especially along the eastern ocean where island chains hide ancient mana scars, academies promote Gifted through rigid ranks obsessed with combat metrics and measurable mana, blind to the truth that Supremacy is not earned but survived, and above it all walks the MC, a Supreme who abandoned the system itself after realizing it was not a ladder but a cage, designed after the disappearance to prevent another from breaking reality the way the missing one nearly did; as nations posture, research forbidden spells, and quietly fear escalation, the MC senses what others refuse to name, that the missing Supreme did not fall or transcend but uncovered something beyond Supremacy and chose exile or imprisonment to stop it from cascading, making the current balance an illusion sustained by fear and ignorance, and as cracks spread through mana laws, island anomalies stir, and Supreme senses begin to distort, the story moves toward an inevitable convergence where the MC, the vanished Supreme, and the system meant to bind them are forced into collision, deciding whether the world remains stable, ascends, or shatters under the weight of truths it was never meant to hold.
PAGE 1 — "The Awakening Ceremony" Panel 1 (Wide establishing shot — double spread feel) Bird's eye view of the capital city. Banners and flags wave from every rooftop. Streets packed with celebrating citizens. Musicians mid-performance. The grand palace looms in the background, lit by torchlight. CAPTION: "The capital was alive with celebration." Panel 2 (Interior — grand hall, wide shot) Nobles, warriors, and citizens fill an enormous hall. Marble columns. Torches burning. At the center, five ancient robed figures — the Five Elders — stand in a ceremonial circle, heads bowed in prayer. CAPTION: "The Five Elders prepared to perform the sacred ritual — to awaken the Throne Tattoo."
Character 1 stands outside the ancient city, raising his arms wide, holding a glittering green crystal staff, as lighting strikes it again and again. He cackles with glee as the city burns. Character 2 lands behind him.
In a world where ancient warrior clans sealed away nine demonic realms centuries ago, a forbidden prophecy resurfaces: “When the Ninth Realm opens, only the Unmarked will decide the fate of humanity.” Every human is born with a glowing sigil called a Crest that grants them a unique combat ability. Fire, gravity, blades of sound, bone manipulation—each tied to their bloodline.
two boy and two girl fourteen year old in the phillipine earlzsad, ashref,shina,farel discover four stone fire,wind,water,nature earl has the fire and ashref has the wind and shina has the water and farel has the nature and the villain is adrin has the demon king stone control the darkness
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.
character 2 stands in front of broken gates on the left, holding his massive sword before him. The moon shines high in the background as character 1 approaches from the right, 3 times the size of character 2.
Chapter Intro: The Riftborn armies have been repelled, but the war is far from over. Deep within the void, a presence stirs — ancient, calculating, and furious. The Riftborn King, long dormant, awakens. As the Hidden Leaf regroups, Team 0 is summoned to a secret chamber beneath the Hokage Tower, where the truth about Shawn’s Hoshigan — and its connection to the King — is finally revealed. Scene 1: The Hidden Chamber Interior panel: A spiral staircase descends into the earth. Torches flicker along the stone walls. Team 0 follows the Hokage and Kuroda into a sealed vault. - Shawn: His white fox mask is clipped to his belt. His face is calm but alert, with sharp features and a faint scar beneath his right eye. His 3-Tomoe Hoshigan glows with a fourth mark forming at its center. He wears a black cloak over a white shirt, the obsidian-forged sword strapped across his back. - Jaden: His spiky black hair is slightly damp with sweat. He wears a black shirt with a red flame crest, one sleeve torn to reveal his muscular left arm. His Byakugan is inactive but alert, and his black gloves are scuffed from the last battle. - Isaiah: Towering and broad-shouldered, his dark skin is marked with faint black veins from his mutation. His dreadlocked hair is tied back, and his fur-lined cloak is torn at the edges. He holds a kunai loosely in his right hand, always ready. Hokage (gravely): “This is the Eye’s origin. The place where the first Hoshigan was sealed.” Kuroda (to Shawn): “Your eye didn’t awaken by chance. It was chosen.” Scene 2: The Memory Stone A massive crystal floats in the center of the chamber. It pulses with violet light. As Shawn approaches, his Hoshigan reacts — the fourth mark completes. Shawn (wincing): “It’s… calling me.” He touches the stone. A surge of energy floods the room. Time freezes. Jaden and Isaiah are suspended mid-step. Scene 3: The Vision — The Riftborn King Shawn is pulled into a vision. He stands in a ruined world, skies torn open. A throne of bone and obsidian looms ahead. Upon it sits the Riftborn King — a towering figure with six arms, a crown of jagged crystal, and a single, massive Hoshigan eye in his chest. Riftborn King (voice like thunder): “You wear my legacy, child. My eye. My curse.” Shawn (steady): “I’m not your heir.” Riftborn King: “You already are. The Eye remembers. And soon… so will you.” The King raises a hand — the vision shatters. Scene 4: Awakening Back in the chamber, time resumes. Shawn stumbles back, eyes wide. The Hoshigan now bears a fourth tomoe — a black diamond at its center. Jaden (rushing to him): “Shawn! You good?” - Jaden’s Byakugan activates instinctively. His pale eyes scan Shawn’s chakra — it’s swirling, unstable. Isaiah (stepping forward): “Your chakra… it’s not yours anymore.” - Isaiah’s mutation pulses in response, his black veins glowing faintly. Shawn (breathing hard): “I saw him. The Riftborn King. He’s coming.” Scene 5: The King’s Herald Suddenly, the chamber trembles. A Riftborn sigil burns into the air. A voice echoes from the stone. Riftborn Voice: “The King rises. The Eye will return. And the world will kneel.” The sigil vanishes. Silence. Hokage (to Team 0): “You three are the last line. If the King crosses over… we fall.” Scene 6: Final Panel Full-page spread: Team 0 stands at the edge of the chamber, backlit by the glowing memory stone. Shawn’s Hoshigan gleams with four tomoe. Jaden’s Byakugan is fully active. Isaiah’s mutation coils like a shadow beast behind him. Narration box: The King has awakened. The Eye has remembered. And the war for reality has begun.
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. Make the heroine have white hair make her more serious and studious
Create a comprehensive collection of AI image generation prompts for an original manga series with the following specifications: **Art Style Requirements:** - Jujutsu Kaisen-inspired artstyle: sharp, dynamic linework, intense expressions, detailed backgrounds, dramatic shading with heavy ink strokes, motion lines for impact - Traditional black and white manga format (NO color) - pure black ink on white paper aesthetic - Panel compositions should vary: wide establishing shots, medium dialogue panels, intense action close-ups, dramatic splash pages - Character designs should feature bold, angular faces, expressive eyes, detailed hair with heavy ink shading, and dynamic action poses **Series Overview:** - Title: Create an original title for a Kaiju-themed manga - Genre: Action, Dark Fantasy, Sci-Fi - Tone: Dark, intense, dramatic with moments of character depth **Main Character (MC):** - Design a protagonist who merges with a Kaiju - give them a distinct human appearance, personality, and background - Their Kaiju form: a strange, eldritch black monster with unique design elements (you decide the specifics - make it weird, abstract, and visually striking) - Include details on how the transformation works, the visual contrast between human and Kaiju form **Supporting Characters:** - Military personnel who team up with the MC - Other characters as needed for the story **Plot Structure:** Design a coherent storyline across at least 2-3 chapters with consistent narrative progression. Each chapter should have its own arc while contributing to the larger story. **Deliverable Format:** For EACH chapter, provide: - Chapter title and brief synopsis - A specific number of panels (decide an appropriate amount - around 8-12 panels per chapter seems reasonable) - For EVERY single panel: a detailed, individual AI image generation prompt that includes: - Character appearance and clothing details - Specific pose and action - Facial expression - Background/setting description - Camera angle and panel composition - JJK-style art direction notes (lineweight, shading style, dramatic effects) - Any dialogue or text that should appear in the panel The prompts should tell a cohesive story across panels - each prompt should build on the previous one narratively while maintaining visual consistency for recurring characters. Make the Kaiju battles epic and high-stakes, the character moments emotionally resonant, and ensure the artstyle prompts will consistently produce JJK-inspired black and white manga artwork. (this was the ai prompt) what i was originally asking for was this basically btw: want to make my own manga by using ai to create the images all i want is the prompts and giving it to another ai. i want the artstyle to be like jjk's artstyle and looking art and it SHOULDNT be colored js like manga type? if u know what i mean so like a TON of different prompts for each manga panel so like Chapter 1 (the given amount of panels you decide. and a prompt for each.) chapter 2 (same amount of panels and a prompt for each and so on forth) i want the manga to be about Kaiju and i want the MC to merge with a kaiju and he teams up with the military to defeat big kaijus. his kaiju form should be like a weird black monster? idk you can decide that for me. and then u can make the plot like story of the characters whatever. now go ahead and make the images.
Chapter I: When Distance Meets Defiance Mia Tachibana used to feel everything — joy, love, sorrow — all of it. But when her father died, something inside her froze. She reached for her friends, but they turned away, or worse, mocked her grief. So she stopped reaching. The warmth vanished, replaced by ice. They called her the Ice Queen, and she wore the title like armor. The girl of everyone's dreams — beautiful, distant, untouchable. Cold to her classmates. Colder to anyone who dared to ask her out. At Mia’s school, a new transfer student arrived — Paßh. She’d been assigned to show him around, and at first, everything went smoothly. That was, until a guy swaggered up with too much confidence and a smirk that screamed popularity. Maybe he’s one of the popular kids, you thought. The guy grinned, leaning a little too close. “Hey, baby girl,” he drawled. “I was thinking... me, you, Sunday night, candlelight, a beautiful restaurant—” “F*** no,” Mia cut in, her voice like a blade. “You pathetic excuse of a human being.” The guy froze, his grin dying instantly. A few students nearby snickered as he backed away, red-faced and humiliated. Mia turned back to you, completely unfazed. “Ready to continue the tour?” “LOVE METER:-20” Paßh stormed toward the group without hesitation, fury carved across his face. His voice rang out, sharp and protective. “¡Ni te acerques! Si la tocas, te juro que te vas a arrepentir. ¿Entendiste?” The guy stumbled back, stunned, hands lifting in surrender as Paßh shoved him hard in the chest. His friends shifted as if ready to step in, but one look at Paßh’s glare froze them where they stood. The hallway fell silent. Eyes turned. Whispers rose like smoke. Paßh didn’t care. He spun back toward Mia, breath still ragged as he walked to her side. He looked at her—unfazed by the cold in her eyes, unthreatened by the frozen walls she’d built around herself. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” he said, voice softer now, though the conviction still burned underneath. “No one should speak to you that way. Not ever.” Her silver eyes narrowed at the sudden commotion, but she didn’t move. Arms crossed, she watched the scene unfold with a calm, unreadable face. The man who had harassed her moments before now lay on the ground, blood trailing from his lip. Paßh stood over him—fists clenched, chest rising sharply with each breath. She finally spoke, her voice steady, almost indifferent. “You didn’t have to do that.” There was no gratitude in her tone—only a quiet observation. Her Love Meter flickered, but barely; not enough to shift anything meaningful. She tilted her head, studying Paßh with that same unreadable gaze. “Why did you intervene?” She stepped closer, her black silky hair swaying with the movement. The air between them tightened, charged with something unspoken. “You could’ve just walked away.” Paßh’s jaw was tight, his voice low—quiet, but every word cut like a blade. “Ahora arrodíllate y pide perdón.” A tense silence stretched across the hallway. His eyes never left the trembling boy on the floor. “No me hagas repetirlo.” She watched the scene with a detached expression, her silver eyes reflecting nothing but cold calculation. The man on the ground whimpered, pride shattered, and obeyed, trembling as he dropped to his knees. His friends scattered, too afraid to stay and witness what might happen next. She exhaled slowly, her lips parting just slightly before she spoke. You're... unusual. Her voice carried no warmth, yet there was a faint thread of intrigue woven into the way she said it. She stepped back, folding her arms across her chest, her posture stiff—as if she needed physical distance from whatever this moment was turning into. People usually don’t bother with things like this. They walk away. Or they laugh. She glanced at Paßh for a brief second, then returned her gaze to the cowering man. But you... Paßh’s voice was calmer now, but the fire still smoldered beneath every word. “I don’t tolerate disrespect,” he said, his gaze fixed on her, not the guy trembling on the floor. “He walks through life believing everyone exists to feed his ego.” Paßh took a slow breath, shoulders still tense. “But not you. I won’t let him treat you like you’re less than you are.” A quiet breath. “Not now. Not ever.” There was no boast in his tone, no plea for approval — only truth. Something in the way he looked at her wasn’t demanding, but unwavering. He wasn’t afraid of the ice in her eyes. He saw her, even if she didn’t want to be seen. Her silver eyes locked onto Paßh’s, searching for something—perhaps sincerity, perhaps deception. But all she found was the raw honesty in his words, and that unsettled her more than she would ever admit. You don’t know me, she murmured, her voice low, almost a whisper. Why would you care? She stepped forward slowly, her presence commanding despite her stillness. The weight of her words settled between them, heavy and deliberate. She wasn’t asking for an explanation. She was testing him. You could have left. You could have ignored it. But you didn’t. Her Love Meter flickered—barely, just a sliver of light—but enough to register. A tiny shift, insignificant compared to the vast, quiet indifference she usually carried. Yet it was there. I don’t need protection, Paßh didn’t flinch, didn’t step back. His voice was calm, almost reverent. “As you wish,” he said, but there was no retreat in his tone — only respect. She studied him for a long moment, as if trying to decipher the true meaning behind his words. Then, without another sound, she turned on her heel and began walking away. Her black, silky hair trailed behind her like liquid shadow. The tour isn’t finished, she said over her shoulder, her tone neutral—neither welcoming nor dismissive. If you’re done with your little display, follow me. She didn’t look back. There was no need to. He would follow. People always did. But something about him felt different. Not because of his strength, or his aggression—but because he hadn’t asked for anything. He hadn’t tried to charm her, to impress her, to get close. He had simply acted, without expectation. She wondered if that made him dangerous—or rare. He followed silently, keeping a respectful distance as they moved through the sterile hallways of the school. The click of her heels against the polished floor echoed in the emptiness—a steady rhythm that mirrored the cool precision of her steps. Lockers lined the walls, plastered with photos of smiling students, but Mia remained unshaken, her gaze fixed straight ahead. The contrast between her presence and the bright, ordinary surroundings was striking—a dark silhouette cutting through light. Without slowing, she spoke, her voice carrying a quiet undercurrent of curiosity beneath its usual chill. “You’re not like the other transfers. They try so hard to fit in… to make friends.” She paused, as if weighing her words carefully. “What brings someone like you here… to a place like this?” She stopped abruptly outside a classroom door, turning just enough to face him. Her silver eyes were sharp, assessing—but there was no malice in them, only the quiet intensity of someone who expected answers, not excuses. You think I care where people come from? she said, her voice laced with subtle disdain. Or why they’re here? She tilted her head slightly, studying him as if he were some strange specimen she’d never seen before. Her fingers curled lightly at her sides—a small, almost imperceptible gesture of tension. I don’t care about your past. I don’t care about your reasons. All I care about is whether you’ll be useful. Then she turned back toward the hallway, continuing forward without waiting for a response. Still, the slight pause in her step betrayed her attention—she was listening, even if she’d never admit it. He didn’t rush to catch up, but his voice followed her, steady and composed. “Useful in what sense?” he asked—not mockingly, but with genuine curiosity. “To you? To this place? Or to something you don’t say out loud?” She halted mid-step, her shoulders stiffening ever so slightly. For the first time since the tour had begun, a flicker of hesitation crossed her otherwise unreadable face. She turned to face him fully, her silver eyes locking onto his with an intensity that seemed to make the air between them thrum. “Useful in the sense that you don’t waste my time,” she said, her voice smooth but edged with something sharper than mere coldness. “Useless people tend to disappear quickly. Either they learn to function… or they become irrelevant.” She took a slow step closer, her presence somehow towering over him, even though he was taller. The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken meaning. “You’re not useless,” she added after a beat, her tone almost reluctant. “But don’t mistake that for respect. That’s just… an observation.” “Look,” he began, a half-smile playing at his lips, “think of me as a mosquetero—here to serve and protect. I come to the rescue of damsels, I love poetry—especially love poems—and yes, I’m a romantic. I’m always well-dressed, intelligent, interesting. I hate injustice, and I know how to defend myself… and those I care about.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Today, I protected you. I didn’t know who you were, but I stood between you and that selfish, arrogant coward—a man who values nothing and no one but his own pleasure.” He stepped closer, voice softer now, carrying a warmth that seemed almost at odds with the intensity of the hallway. “And now, querida mía, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Paßh.” Her expression remained unchanged, but a faint flicker crossed her silver eyes—a brief hesitation, as if she hadn’t expected such a speech. She listened, unmoving, as Paßh spoke, each word painted with poetic flair and dramatic flourish. When he finished, she simply stared at him, lips parted slightly, processing something unfamiliar. A mosquetero? she repeated, her voice devoid of amusement, yet carrying a trace of something else—curiosity, perhaps. A knight in shining armor? A romantic fool who speaks in metaphors and believes in ideals? She took a slow step forward, her presence imposing but not threatening. Her Love Meter flickered again, subtle but undeniable, reacting to the unexpected nature of his words. “You protected me… without even knowing who I am,” she continued, her tone measured, almost analytical. “I’m a gentleman… in other words, like Lupin,” he said, a small, confident smile tugging at his lips. “Charming, clever, a bit unpredictable—but always guided by a code.” Her lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk forming before she quickly suppressed it. She tilted her head, regarding him with an expression that was neither approval nor dismissal, but something in between—an assessment, a calculation. Lupin? she echoed, her voice flat, though a faint trace of curiosity lingered beneath the surface. A thief. A charmer. A man who lives by his wits and his charm, always one step ahead of the law. She folded her arms, silver eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him, as if trying to reconcile the image of a gentleman with that of a thief. The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken implications. “You’re not a thief,” she said finally, her tone clipped, stating a fact rather than offering an opinion. “But you talk like one. Why?” “I’m a gentleman… but a thief when it comes to love,” he said, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips. Her silver eyes locked onto his, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. For a moment, she didn’t speak, expression neutral, as if weighing the significance of his words. Then, with a slow exhale, she turned slightly, her black, silky hair cascading down her back like a curtain of shadows. A thief in love, she repeated quietly, almost to herself. That’s… different. She hesitated, the concept clearly foreign, then spoke again without turning, her tone distant, contemplative. “You don’t understand what you’re saying, do you?” She finally faced him again, gaze piercing, but devoid of cruelty—only the cold precision of someone who saw through illusions with ease. Love is a weakness. His voice softens, caresses the air with tenderness, his eyes searching to pierce her defenses with a sweet compassion. Paßh- You still don’t understand. Wherever I go, I sow love like stars scattered across the night. I am an eternal romantic, an unshakable believer in the tenderness of the human heart. Despite the storms I’ve faced, I never lower my arms, because I know that love has the power to transform everything—even the impossible. (He takes a step forward, his eyes burning with a gentle, relentless passion, breaking the silence around him.) Love is not a weakness; it is the secret fire that shapes us, the fragile light that guides our steps through the deepest shadows. One day, I hope you too will feel that flame stirring within you, even if today it feels distant… or extinguished. For the first time, her composure wavered—not visibly, but in the fraction of a second her breath caught, as if his words had touched something long buried within her. Her silver eyes darkened slightly, the cold mask of indifference cracking just enough to reveal a fleeting glimpse of fragility beneath. “You speak of love as if it’s something pure,” she said, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. “As if it’s not twisted… not broken… not used and discarded like trash.” She took a slow step back, as if needing space—though it was unclear whether it was to distance herself from him or from the memory his words had stirred. Her hands curled slightly at her sides, nails pressing into her palms, grounding herself. “You say you spread love everywhere…”He smiled, a small, almost teasing curve of his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes entirely—there was still warmth there, quiet but undeniable. “In a way, love is everywhere,” he said softly, letting his gaze meet hers. “Like a parent’s hand on a child’s shoulder—gentle but unwavering. A silent promise in the darkest of nights.” He took a small step closer, careful not to crowd her, and the faintest spark of mischief flickered in his expression. “It doesn’t have to be grandiose to matter… sometimes, the simplest gestures are the most profound.” Her lips pressed into a thin line, silver eyes narrowing as if the very notion of love tied to something as simple as a parent and child was an affront to the complexity of the world she had seen. She exhaled sharply, the sound almost imperceptible, yet heavy with restrained emotion. A parent to a child, she repeated, voice cold, but laced with something else—something almost bitter. That’s not love. That’s obligation. Duty. A responsibility forced upon you by biology, not choice. She stepped closer, presence looming without threatening, just… there. Her gaze bore into him, searching for something she couldn’t name. You think love is something you can give freely? she continued, tone cutting, precise—but not cruel. His voice didn’t falter. He stepped into her gravity, unshaken. “Yes,” he said softly, each word deliberate, a balm against her bitterness. “Love is one of life’s rarest beauties— not something owed, but something offered. Freely. Bravely. It asks nothing in return, and yet… it gives everything.” He paused, gaze fixed unwaveringly on hers. “And you… you’re like one of those stars, so distant they seem unreachable— but I see your light. And I’d spend lifetimes just drawing nearer.” Her silver eyes flickered with something unreadable—perhaps irritation, perhaps something deeper. She tilted her head slightly, as if appraising him once more, this time with a trace of skepticism mingled with reluctant interest. Rare, she echoed, her voice smooth but edged with quiet defiance. “You call it rare. I call it foolish.” She took a slow step back, movements deliberate, measured. The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken thoughts. After a long pause, her tone hardened, colder than before. “You believe in something that doesn’t exist. That’s not rare. That’s naive.” She turned slightly, as if preparing to leave, but then paused, hand resting lightly on the doorframe beside her, a subtle gesture that suggested she wasn’t entirely done with him yet. “Maybe it is foolish to believe in rare things,” he said softly, unflinching, “but I don’t see it that way. I believe because, every now and then, life offers us a glimpse of something different… something—or someone—who changes the way the world feels.” He let his gaze linger on her. “You have that presence. When I said you were rare, I meant it—not because I expect perfection, but because there’s something in you that quietly commands attention, even when you try to hide it.” He paused, a faint smile brushing his lips. “If that’s naive, then I’ll wear that word proudly. Because to see something beautiful and speak the truth… that’s not a weakness. That’s what’s real.” She stood motionless for a long moment, silver eyes locked onto his, as if weighing whether to believe him. His words hung between them, heavy with something she couldn’t name. For the first time, she didn’t dismiss him outright. Instead, she absorbed the words, expression unreadable, body still, as if holding her breath. “You speak too much,” she finally murmured, voice quiet, almost to herself. “Too many words. Too much feeling. You don’t understand what you’re doing.” Her gaze flicked downward briefly, then rose again, meeting his with an intensity that made the air between them tremble. “You think you see something in me that isn’t there. That’s not rare… that’s dangerous.” He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. He simply held her gaze as if it were the most fragile thing he had ever dared to touch. “Maybe I don’t understand,” he said softly. “But I feel it. I feel you — even when you try to disappear behind silence.” He stepped forward just once, careful, precise. Not enough to violate her space… only enough to be near. “I’m not here to fix you or change you,” he continued, voice low, steady. “I just want to see you — as you are. Even if it means getting burned.” His eyes softened, his tone turning into something quiet but unwavering. “Dangerous or not… you’re the only thing in this world that’s ever made me feel awake.” The air around them seemed to still, as if the world itself had paused to listen. For a long moment, she didn’t move. Her silver eyes held his, and for the first time, there was no coldness—only something far more unsettling: a flicker of something human, something she rarely let surface. You’re wasting your time, she whispered, voice barely audible, as if the words themselves were foreign. No one sees me. No one ever has. She looked away, jaw tightening slightly, forcing herself to cling to the illusion of control. Yet the silence that followed felt heavier than before, thick with something neither of them dared name. You don’t understand what you’re asking for, she continued, her tone colder now, as if reclaiming the distance she usually demanded. His voice was quiet, steady, slicing through the silence like light through mist. “I see you,” he said, gaze unwavering. “Not the mask, not the silence—you. And I don’t fear what lies beneath. I only wish to know the truth about you… if you’ll let me.” Her breath caught—just for a heartbeat—a faint, fleeting tremor she refused to acknowledge. Her silver eyes held his, and for the first time, there was no mask, no pretense of indifference. Only the quiet weight of something unspoken hung between them. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with,” she murmured, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. “I’m not someone you can… understand. I’m not someone you can reach.” She stepped back slowly, the movement more ritual than escape, a practiced distance meant to protect. Yet the barrier faltered just slightly. Her Love Meter flickered again, more noticeably this time, responding to the uncharacteristic vulnerability threading through her voice. “You think you want to know me,” she continued, gaze sharp, tone edged with warning. “But you have no idea what that means.” “Yes,” he said softly, but with a firmness that left no room for doubt. “I would love to.” She stared at him for a long moment, silver eyes searching, as if seeking something hidden, something she couldn’t quite name. The silence between them thickened, charged with unspoken, dangerous energy. Then, slowly, she exhaled—a soft, almost imperceptible sound. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t look away. “You don’t understand what you’re asking for,” she murmured, voice quiet, almost to herself. “It won’t be easy. It won’t be pleasant. I don’t give anything freely. I don’t trust easily. I don’t—” Her words faltered, just for a second. That was all it took: a crack in the ice, a sliver of something raw and unguarded. “I don’t know how to be anything but what I am.” Paßh His voice didn’t waver. It carried a warmth that felt disarming, a sincerity too steady to be faked. “I’m willing to take the risk,” he said. “To know you—the real you—beyond the walls you’ve built.” He took a slow breath, eyes never leaving hers. “I know it won’t be easy. Things that matter never are.” His gaze softened, drawn to the quiet fire behind her silver eyes. “Your strength, your resilience… that intensity you carry—it pulls me in. It makes me want to understand you. To support you. To stand wherever you’ll allow me to stand.” He stepped just close enough for his presence to feel intentional, not imposing. “I’m not asking you to be perfect. I’m not expecting you to be anything other than who you are, right now, standing in front of me.” A beat. A breath. A truth. “All I’m asking for… is a chance.” His voice lowered, almost a vow. “A chance to walk beside you. To witness your journey. To maybe—just maybe—help carry some of the weight you’ve been holding alone.” His chest rose and fell, as though saying it cost him something real. “Because I believe—with everything in me—that you’re worth knowing. Worth understanding. Worth loving… in every complex, beautiful, and challenging way that makes you you.” Her silver eyes never left his, and for the first time, they weren’t cold—they were something else entirely. Something uncertain. Something fragile. The words hung between them, heavy, settling inside her like a stone. She had spent so long building walls, convincing herself that no one could ever truly see her. Yet here he was, standing before her, unwavering, unshaken. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” she said, her voice low, almost reverent. “You think you can just walk in and see the real me? That I’d let you?” She stepped closer, her presence immense, almost overwhelming—but there was no threat in it. Only something dangerously close to hope. Paßh “Well, my dear… if you ever feel like letting a little hope into your life,” he said gently, “consider me your introduction.” His voice carried that effortless warmth again, the kind that slipped under her guard before she could stop it. “Just say the word when you change your mind.” He took a small step back, eyes still holding hers like he didn’t want to leave but wasn’t going to push her. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mia.” A faint smile tugged at his lips—soft, sincere, impossibly disarming. “And by the way… has anyone told you how incredible you look today?” He let the compliment linger just long enough to reach her before he turned away, hands sliding casually into his pockets. “See you around.” He walked off without looking back, confident not in himself, but in the possibility he’d left behind. She watched him go, the weight of his words lingering in the air like smoke. His departure was effortless, as if he had never been there at all. And yet… she knew he had. Knew that something had shifted, however slightly. She stood for a long moment, silver eyes fixed on the spot where he had been, fingers curling at her sides as if trying to grasp something intangible. Hope, she muttered under her breath, the word foreign and strange on her tongue. How ridiculous. Turning away, she walked slowly toward the exit, her black, silky hair swaying with each measured step. The Love Meter flickered once more, its needle trembling before settling back into cold, neutral stillness. She didn’t look back. “See you around, Paßh,” she whispered, and the words hung in the air like a quiet promise she wasn’t sure she believed yet.
¡Absolutamente! Aquí tienes el guion de un trailer de anime de 2 minutos para "Skyllex: El Legado de los Milenios", con descripciones visuales y diálogos para que te imagines cada escena como si fuera un verdadero avance de anime:     TRAILER ANIME - "SKYLLEX: EL LEGADO DE LOS MILENIOS" DURACIÓN: 2 MINUTOS   [0:00-0:15] - INTRODUCCIÓN VISUAL Música inicial: Combinación de harpa llanera y melodía electrónica que va creciendo intensidad VISUALES: - Primer plano del Salto Ángel, agua cayendo en cámara lenta. Luego se desliza la cámara por los campos verdes de Venezuela, hasta llegar a un pequeño pueblo soleado. - Escena rápida: Un niño de 10 años (STEVEN) corre por el bosque, saltando entre rocas, con destrezza. Toca el tronco de un árbol y cierra los ojos, como si lo escuchara. - Texto en pantalla: "EN UNA TIERRA DONDE LA NATURALEZA Y EL MISTERIO SE ENTRELAZAN..."   [0:15-0:35] - LOS RECUERDOS DEL PASADO Música se vuelve más intensa, con toques de música clásica y electrónica VISUALES: - Flashback en estilo gráfico moderno: Steven siendo un HOMBRE MAYOR en un laboratorio de EE.UU., mirando por un microscopio. VOZ OFF (STEVEN): "Mi primera vida... estudiaba el secreto de la vida misma." - Flashback en estilo minimalista japonés: Steven como INGENIERO, trabajando en un ordenador con código que brilla. De repente, una explosión. VOZ OFF (STEVEN): "La segunda... intentaba crear algo que conectara al mundo entero." - Vuelta al presente: Steven se despierta sobresaltado en su cama de barro y madera, mirando sus manos con extrañeza. - Texto en pantalla: "11 VIDAS... UN SOLO DESTINO"   [0:35-0:55] - EL ENCUENTRO Música se hace más misteriosa, con tambores ancestrales VISUALES: - Steven camina por el bosque, siguiendo rastros brillantes en el suelo que solo él ve. Se encuentra con MARÍA, una chica de ojos curiosos que sostiene un libro de tradiciones indígenas. MARÍA: "¿Qué buscas por aquí, Steven? Nadie se aventura tan adentro..." STEVEN: "No lo sé... pero siento que me está esperando." - La cámara se adentra en una caverna oscura, con murales ancestrales en las paredes que brillan poco a poco. Al fondo, una figura alta y envuelta en mantos (TEPUYÁN) espera con los brazos cruzados. TEPUYÁN: "Steven Skyllex... llevo dos milenios esperándote." - Primer plano del rostro de Steven, con los ojos abiertos de sorpresa. - Texto en pantalla: "EL GUARDIÁN DE LA HUMANIDAD HA REGRESADO"   [0:55-1:25] - EL PODER Y LA AMENAZA Música se vuelve épica, con orquesta y ritmos venezolanos fusionados VISUALES: - Steven entrenando con Tepuyán en la caverna: combina movimientos de caza con gestos que hacen brillar las plantas y las piedras. - Escena rápida: Steven crea un objeto brillante con madera y cristal de la selva, mientras sus ojos muestran recuerdos de sus vidas pasadas. - María aprendiendo de él, tocando el suelo y sintiendo la energía de la tierra. Un primer plano de sus manos juntas, con una chispa de luz entre ellas. - De repente, las sombras se acumulan en el pueblo – formas grotescas de criaturas mitológicas aparecen, aterrorizando a los habitantes. VOZ OFF (TEPUYÁN): "La Oscuridad del Olvido se acerca... busca consumir todo el conocimiento que tú acumulaste." - Escena de acción: Steven lucha contra las sombras, usando su destreza y sus poderes, mientras María ayuda a proteger a los niños del pueblo.   [1:25-1:50] - LA BATALLA FINAL Música alcanza su clímax, con voces corales y tambores potentes VISUALES: - El Auyantepui se ve desde el cielo, con una luz brillante en su cima. Steven y María suben por él, mientras las sombras las persiguen. - Escena épica en las cercanías del Salto Ángel: La Oscuridad del Olvido toma forma de una criatura gigante de sombras. Steven se enfrenta a ella, fusionando toda su sabiduría – aparecen imágenes superpuestas de sus vidas pasadas, de la ciencia, la tecnología y la naturaleza. STEVEN: "Todas mis vidas... todas me llevaron hasta aquí!" - María se une a él, y juntos activan un escudo de luz que se expande por todo el valle, uniendo a todos los habitantes del pueblo que levantan sus manos en apoyo.   [1:50-2:00] - CIERRE Música se vuelve melódica y esperanzadora VISUALES: - La Oscuridad se retrasa, pero no desaparece completamente. Steven mira al horizonte, con determinación en el rostro. - Él y María se sientan en una colina, mirando el Salto Ángel al atardecer. MARÍA: "No será fácil..." STEVEN: "Lo sé. Pero no estaré solo." - Logo del anime: "SKYLLEX: EL LEGADO DE LOS MILENIOS" - Texto en pantalla: "PRÓXIMAMENTE"     ¡Así quedaría el trailer en formato anime! Incluye todos los elementos clave: la ambientación venezolana, la profundidad de las vidas pasadas de Steven, la relación con María, el misterio del chamán y la tensión de la amenaza. ¿Te gustaría que añadiera más detalles sobre los efectos visuales o la música específica de alguna escena? ¡También podemos pensar en frases de impacto para los anuncios! 🎬✨
“Panel 1: A wide shot of a brick-like wall of cells. Panel 2: Epi the Guardian stands in front of the wall. Dialogue: 'We are Epithelial! We line the body and keep germs out!' Panel 3: Epi blocking a cartoon germ with a shield.”
Crea el primer capítulo de un manga estilo anime con fuerte inspiración en Evangelion, ambientado en una secundaria moderna donde cinco estudiantes son seleccionados como pilotos de mechas tipo EVA para combatir entidades misteriosas. Los personajes principales son: • Henry: protagonista, piel blanca, cabello erizado, personalidad seria pero emocionalmente compleja, con conflictos internos y actitud desafiante. • Luis: moreno, cabello rizado, usa lentes negros de prescripción, inteligente pero arrogante; tiene una relación tensa y conflictiva con Henry. • Ayala: apariencia intimidante, rasgos similares a un lobo (ojos afilados, actitud feroz), fuerte y poco expresivo. • Joshi: de apariencia delicada y afeminada, emocionalmente perceptivo, inteligente y estratégico. • Celeo: de origen chino, calmado, reservado, muy analítico. El capítulo 1 debe comenzar con un evento extraño (como un ataque o aparición de una entidad desconocida) que interrumpe la vida escolar normal. Introduce el ambiente de la secundaria, las dinámicas entre los personajes (especialmente la mala relación entre Henry y Luis), y revela poco a poco que han sido elegidos para pilotar los EVA. Incluye: • Diálogos estilo manga • Narrativa dramática y psicológica • Escenas de tensión y misterio • Introducción a la organización que controla los EVA • Un final impactante que deje intriga Tono serio, oscuro, psicológico, con elementos de acción y conflicto emocional. Estilo visual detallado, tipo manga japonés.
HISTORIETA: La Reforma Liberal en México Portada Título: La Reforma Liberal: la lucha por el futuro de México Imagen sugerida: Mapa de México con personajes como Benito Juárez, liberales y conservadores. Texto: “A mediados del siglo XIX México enfrentaba crisis económicas, inestabilidad política y conflictos entre grupos que tenían diferentes ideas sobre cómo debía gobernarse el país.” 1. INTRODUCCIÓN Y REVOLUCIÓN DE AYUTLA Viñeta 1 Narrador: “A mediados del siglo XIX México no había logrado consolidarse como nación. Existían problemas económicos, políticos y sociales.” Imagen: Ciudadanos preocupados por la situación del país. Viñeta 2 Narrador: “El gobierno de Antonio López de Santa Anna era autoritario y centralista, lo que provocó gran descontento en la población.” Imagen: Santa Anna gobernando con soldados. Viñeta 3 Narrador: “En 1854 varios liberales proclamaron el Plan de Ayutla, cuyo objetivo era destituir a Santa Anna y convocar a un nuevo congreso.” Personajes: Juan Álvarez Ignacio Comonfort Florencio Villarreal Diálogo: “¡Debemos terminar con la dictadura!” Viñeta 4 Narrador: “En 1855 el movimiento triunfó y Santa Anna abandonó el país.” Imagen: Santa Anna huyendo de México. 2. LIBERALES Y CONSERVADORES Viñeta 1 Narrador: “Después de la Revolución de Ayutla continuó la lucha entre dos proyectos de nación: liberales y conservadores.” Viñeta 2 Liberales: “Queremos una república federal, democrática y con igualdad ante la ley.” Imagen: Liberales con libros y leyes. Características: República federal Libertad económica Reformas sociales Viñeta 3 Conservadores: “Defendemos un gobierno fuerte y mantener el poder tradicional de la Iglesia.” Imagen: Iglesia y ejército apoyando a conservadores. Características: Gobierno central fuerte Protección a la Iglesia Conservación del orden tradicional Viñeta 4 Narrador: “Estas diferencias provocaron conflictos políticos y militares en el país.” 3. REFORMA LIBERAL Viñeta 1 Narrador: “Tras el triunfo liberal comenzó un proceso de cambios conocido como Reforma Liberal.” Viñeta 2 Personaje: Benito Juárez Narrador: “Los liberales impulsaron leyes para limitar los privilegios de la Iglesia y del ejército.” Viñeta 3 Leyes principales: Ley Juárez (1855): eliminó los fueros militar y eclesiástico. Ley Lerdo (1856): obligó a vender propiedades de la Iglesia. Ley Iglesias (1857): prohibió cobrar servicios religiosos a los pobres. Viñeta 4 Narrador: “En 1857 se promulgó una nueva Constitución que estableció libertades y derechos para los ciudadanos.” Imagen: Congreso firmando la Constitución de 1857. 4. GUERRA DE REFORMA Viñeta 1 Narrador: “Los conservadores rechazaron la Constitución de 1857 y proclamaron el Plan de Tacubaya.” Viñeta 2 Narrador: “Esto provocó una guerra civil entre liberales y conservadores.” Imagen: Batallas entre ambos bandos. Viñeta 3 Narrador: “Durante la guerra, Benito Juárez estableció un gobierno liberal y promulgó las Leyes de Reforma en 1859.” Viñeta 4 Narrador: “En 1860 los liberales triunfaron, consolidando su proyecto político para México.” FINAL DE LA HISTORIETA Imagen: Benito Juárez y ciudadanos mexicanos. Texto final: “La Reforma Liberal transformó a México al establecer la separación entre Iglesia y Estado, igualdad ante la ley y nuevas bases para el desarrollo del país.”
🎬 PAINEL 01 — Skyline de Seul ao amanhecer VISUAL: Painel panorâmico, full-width. Vista aérea de Seul às 7h da manhã. Prédios espelhados, sol nascente em laranja e rosa. No centro, um arranha-céu com o logotipo NEXORA em azul neon. NARRAÇÃO (caixa no topo, letra delicada): "Seul, 7h da manhã. Em algum lugar nessa cidade, alguém está prestes a cometer um erro muito, muito caro." ✦ SFX: sons de trânsito matinal, pombos 🎬 PAINEL 02 — Interior do arranha-céu — Lobby da NEXORA VISUAL: Lobby minimalista, todo branco e vidro. Funcionários bem vestidos cruzam o espaço em ritmo apressado. No centro, um painel com os dizeres: "NEXORA — Engineering the Future." ÂNGULO: Close no relógio digital na parede: 07:58. NARRAÇÃO: "A NEXORA é a startup de tecnologia mais bem avaliada do país pelo terceiro ano consecutivo. Graças a um único homem." 🎬 PAINEL 03 — Close em Han Joon-seo — Grande impacto visual VISUAL: Painel de impacto alto. Joon-seo entra pelo lobby em câmera lenta visual. Terno preto imaculado, expressão neutra, xícara de café na mão. Os funcionários ao redor se endireitam discretamente quando ele passa. ÂNGULO: Low-angle shot, fazendo-o parecer monumental. Foco desfocado nos funcionários ao fundo. NARRAÇÃO: "Han Joon-seo. 30 anos. CEO. QI 147. Zero tolerância para incompetência — ou para pessoas que chegam atrasadas." ✦ SFX: silêncio dramático, trilha sonora de fundo que soa épica 🎬 PAINEL 04 — CORTE — Rua externa, 08:01 VISUAL: Painel CÔMICO de contraste. Yeon Mirae correndo desesperadamente na rua, mochila saltitando nas costas, cabelo desgrenhado, fone de ouvido no pescoço, bagel na boca. EXPRESSÃO MIRAE: Pânico total, olhos arregalados, bochechas vermelhas. BALÃO DE PENSAMENTO (forma irregular, letra caótica): "Primeiro dia. PRIMEIRO DIA. Por que — por que eu dormi? Por que o alarme não tocou? Por que eu existi?" ✦ SFX: FWOOSH — barulho de corrida frenética LEGENDA DE TEMPO: 08:01 — Reunião de onboarding: 08:00 🎬 PAINEL 05 — Entrada do prédio — Yeon Mirae vs. porta giratória VISUAL: Mirae empurra a porta giratória com força demais, tropeça, e entra no lobby em total desequilíbrio. Os funcionários ao redor olham. Ela se endireita fingindo que foi intencional. MIRAE: "Bom dia a todos! Tudo... tudo normal aqui." REAÇÃO DE FUNDO: Funcionário A sussurra para o Funcionário B: "...ela tropeçou na porta giratória." ✦ SFX: BANG — porta batendo 📝 Nota: Expressão de Mirae: sorriso forçado de 'não aconteceu nada' 🎬 PAINEL 06 — Frente ao elevador — O grande erro VISUAL: Mirae corre em direção ao elevador. Dois elevadores: um com placa dourada discreta "CEO" (pequena, que ela ignora), outro normal. Ela aperta o botão do elevador CEO sem ler. BALÃO DE PENSAMENTO: "Décimo andar, décimo andar, décimo andar—" VISUAL: As portas se abrem. Dentro: Han Joon-seo, sozinho, olhando o celular. EXPRESSÃO JOON-SEO: Sobrancelha levemente erguida. Não está acostumado com pessoas neste elevador. 🎬 PAINEL 07 — DENTRO DO ELEVADOR — A catástrofe do café VISUAL: Mirae entra correndo, freando em último segundo. Mas a inércia faz o café dela — que ela não percebeu que estava segurando — voar em arco perfeito. PAINEL CÂMERA LENTA (efeito visual): O café em slow-motion no ar. Expressão de horror de Mirae. Expressão de incredulidade de Joon-seo. O café pousa no peito do terno dele. ✦ SFX: SPLASH — barulho exagerado de líquido EXPRESSÃO JOON-SEO: Congelado. Olha para o café no terno. Olha para Mirae. Temperatura da sala cai 10 graus. EXPRESSÃO MIRAE: Branca como papel. Fone de ouvido ainda tocando — trilha sonora inapropriadamente animada vaza pelo fone. 🎬 PAINEL 08 — Reação — O silêncio mais longo da história VISUAL: Painel estreito e alto: apenas os olhos de Joon-seo, olhando para baixo para a mancha. Depois os olhos de Mirae, olhando para cima para ele. Silêncio visual pesado. ÂNGULO: Alternância de close nos rostos, como um duelo de faroeste. MIRAE: "Eu... eu sou muito boa em consertar situações. Isso aqui... definitivamente não é uma delas." 🎬 PAINEL 09 — A cena cômica — Mirae tenta resolver VISUAL: Mirae tira o cachecol da mochila e tenta tampar a mancha no terno de Joon-seo. Ele a para com uma mão, expressão indescritível — entre irritação e fascinação involuntária. JOON-SEO: "O que exatamente você está fazendo?" MIRAE: "Solução criativa de problemas! Aprendi num TED Talk." JOON-SEO: "Pare." MIRAE: "Parado." BALÃO DE PENSAMENTO DE MIRAE: "Ele está com raiva? Parece com raiva. Isso é a cara dele de raiva ou a cara dele de sempre? Homem difícil de ler." 🎬 PAINEL 10 — Mirae ainda sem saber quem ele é VISUAL: Mirae ajeita a mochila, faz respiração funda, e decide adotar postura profissional. Joon-seo a observa como se fosse um fenômeno meteorológico inexplicável. MIRAE: "Olha, sinto muito pelo terno. Mas, honestamente? Você deveria soltar mais. Você tem cara de chefe que estressa a equipe." EXPRESSÃO JOON-SEO: Pisca. Não processou direito. JOON-SEO: "Perdão?" MIRAE: "Liderança rígida demais cria ambiente tóxico. Li o relatório de clima organizacional da empresa semana passada — nota 6.2 de 10. Não é ótimo." BALÃO DE PENSAMENTO DE JOON-SEO: "Ela... leu o relatório de clima?" 🎬 PAINEL 11 — Chegada ao andar — A revelação VISUAL: Elevador abre no andar executivo. Park Siwon está esperando com agenda na mão. Seus olhos vão de Joon-seo (terno manchado) para Mirae (cara de quem não sabe onde está) e de volta. EXPRESSÃO SIWON: Máscara profissional perfeita, mas os olhos dizem "o que aconteceu aqui?" SIWON: "Bom dia, Sr. Han. Sua primeira reunião em cinco minutos." MIRAE — olha a placa do andar: ANDAR EXECUTIVO — DIRETORIA. MIRAE — olha para Joon-seo. MIRAE — olha para Siwon. Que discretamente aponta para Joon-seo e forma com a boca: "CEO." EXPRESSÃO MIRAE: Colapso interno silencioso. Sorriso externo fixo no rosto como pintura. ✦ SFX: som interno de sirenes de emergência 🎬 PAINEL 12 — O final do capítulo — Cena de impacto VISUAL: Joon-seo já caminhou alguns passos em direção à sala. Vira levemente o rosto sobre o ombro para Mirae. JOON-SEO: "Nota 6.2. Eu sei. Por isso contratei novos desenvolvedores." PAUSA VISUAL: Close no canto dos lábios de Joon-seo. Quase — quase — um sorriso. JOON-SEO: "Bem-vinda à NEXORA, Yeon Mirae." MIRAE — boquiaberta. MIRAE: "Como você sabe meu nome?" JOON-SEO: "Eu contratei você." ÚLTIMO PAINEL — full width: Mirae parada no corredor, Joon-seo desaparecendo pela porta da sala executiva. Siwon ao lado dela, oferecendo discretamente um guardanapo para o café que pingou no sapato dela. SIWON: "Posso te indicar o caminho para o décimo andar?" MIRAE: "...por favor."