Hidden Secrets Manga

💗 Sweet High School Lovers (Manga Style) Name: Hana Saito A 16-year-old girl with soft, shoulder-length dark brown hair that slightly curls at the ends. Her eyes are warm hazel, always shining when she laughs. She wears a neat school uniform: a navy skirt, white blouse, and a red ribbon tied under the collar. Hana is kind, a little shy, and loves reading romance novels during lunch break. When she’s nervous, she plays with the ribbon on her uniform. Name: Ren Takahashi A 17-year-old boy with messy black hair that falls into his eyes. His eyes are deep gray and usually calm, giving him a cool but gentle look. His uniform is slightly untidy—his tie is always a bit loose and his sleeves rolled up. Ren is quiet and protective but secretly very sweet. He likes sketching in a small notebook during class. 🌸 Their Relationship Hana and Ren sit next to each other in class. At first they were just classmates, but they slowly became close. Ren often walks Hana home after school. Hana sometimes brings homemade snacks for him. When Hana gets embarrassed, her cheeks turn pink and Ren smiles softly. They like sitting under the school cherry blossom tree after classes. Even though they are shy, their small moments together—sharing notes, laughing quietly, and studying side by side—make their love feel sweet and real, just like in a slice-of-life manga. 🌸
Romance slice of life my main character is this black haired girl who just got engaged to her long boyfriend and as he started this new job his coworker a blond haired girl they started to be friends at work and they got too close like close friends but everyone called them a couple because they acted like it then his wife gets suspicious of her husband and next thing you know the blond haired coworker mada a first move to the husband and they kissed and they confessed their feelings for eachother then he had an affair with the blond ( she is super pretty ) girl while his wife the black haired girl followed her husband to work to spy on him because she became insane because her husband put a password on his phone hides his phone and its not sexual with his wife and she stalks him to work and founds out that her husband is eating out with the blond girl in his lunch time and they kissed and she gets home cries but she would keep it a secret cuz she can't leave his husband she is too attached then months and months of this happening the blond girl gets pregnant the black haired wife its devastated and broken and miserable cuz she knew that her husband wanted a child with her so much to start a family and stuff and something happens the husband tells his wife that he has a other girlfriend and she is pregnant and he wants to keep the baby and he has no feelings for his wife and he tells her to leave but the husbands mom calls and wants to visit and he panicked and said to his wife to stay and pretend that they are happy but he will get his pregnant girlfriend moved into the house and live with them and the blond girl moves in and the ex wife have a huge fight but the husbands goes to have sex with his girlfriend and the ex wife cries and cries and the blond girl does evil things to the wife and the husband loves it and you can continue with the story from now on
This is a wild, satirical concept—very Jujutsu Kaisen meets true crime commentary. Here is the English translation, keeping the dramatic, "shonen-style" flair intact. Comic Title: "Domain Expansion: Paradise Lost vs. Party Purgatory" The Concept: The Battle of Infernal Domains In an interdimensional plane of existence where "cursed energy" generated by vice and infamy takes physical form, the greatest transgressors do not fight with fists, but with the expansion of their psychic "Domains." Here, Jeffrey Epstein and Diddy clash to determine who is the true "Master of Modern Darkness," each projecting his own twisted vision of power and corruption. The Plot Act I: The Summoning of Domains The story opens in a "Non-Place"—a floating arena amidst clouds made of broken TV screens and burnt banknotes. Jeffrey Epstein, possessing a cold and calculating aura, his snow-white hair reflecting moonlight even in the day, smiles sardonically. He has just activated his Domain Expansion: "The Temple of Secrets." The environment transforms: the Non-Place vanishes, replaced by a spectral, lush version of his private island (Little Saint James). Skeletal palm trees stand against a violet twilight sky. A colonial villa, elegantly sinister, rises at the center. The air is thick with recorded whispers, the echo of contracts, and the distant thrum of a landing helicopter. On the island, instead of sand, there are fragments of shredded legal documents. The "Sure-Hit" advantage of Epstein’s domain is that anyone who enters is immediately ensnared in a web of legal debt, non-disclosure agreements (NDAs), and implicit blackmail, manifesting as invisible, suffocating chains. On the other side, Diddy—with an expression of brazen arrogance, wearing a fur coat that sparkles with strobe lights and sunglasses reflecting a million paparazzi—does not hesitate. With a defiant cry, he activates his Domain Expansion: "The Endless Party." Epstein’s domain is torn asunder by an explosion of neon lights and deafening sound. The island partially fades, giving way to a futuristic, chaotic, and bottomless nightclub. Champagne bottles explode into clouds of sticky foam. Virtual dancers with distorted celebrity faces perform in loops. The air is saturated with the smell of sweat, expensive perfume, and a faint scent of "baby oil" that is anything but innocent. The "Sure-Hit" advantage of Diddy’s domain is that anyone who enters is forced to dance incessantly, suffering a sensory bombardment that renders them unable to think clearly, while being slowly "anointed" and weakened by a shimmering oil that leaves them vulnerable to manipulation. Act II: The Clash of Cursed Powers The two "masters" face off at the intersection of their domains. * Epstein manipulates his island: the trees transform into legal tentacles attempting to seize Diddy; the ocean waves are made of "dirty money" trying to drown him; and the villa’s screens project compromising videos intended to paralyze his reputation. His attacks are based on "Secret Information" which, when they land, reveal the opponent's weaknesses and past crimes. * Diddy responds by evoking the "Eternal Celebration": subwoofers launch soundwaves that shatter the structures of Epstein’s island. Giant champagne bottles transform into explosive projectiles. The oil permeating his domain becomes a corrosive substance that dissolves Epstein’s legal documents. His attacks are based on "Distraction and Corruption," aimed at eroding the opponent's will and making them "lose control" of their facade. During the fight, they exchange venomous barbs that, in this comedic context, sound like boasts of their own infamy: Epstein: "You’re just a novice! I built an empire on omertà, not some block party!" Diddy: "Old man! I reinvented the game! You were just an amateur with a checkbook! I have the charisma!" Act III: The Collapse of Domains and the Supreme Revelation As the two grow more enraged, their domains begin to merge into a grotesque mess: an island with built-in nightclubs, palm trees dancing to trap music, and legal contracts swirling like confetti. At the climax of the clash, a third entity manifests. It is not a being, but a gargantuan "Eye of Public Opinion" that opens above them, surrounded by millions of smartphone screens. This eye does not judge; it simply observes, recording every single infamy. The power of this "Eye" is so great that both domains—built on secrecy and distraction—begin to collapse. The Eye is not an attack, but a simple revelation. In that moment, Epstein and Diddy realize that the true "curse" is not their enemies, but the constant and inexorable surveillance of a world that, eventually, sees and judges everything. The comic concludes with the two trapped in a "non-place" made of cell phone screens showing their own misdeeds. They realize their "battle for dominance" was in vain. Neither can truly win when their very existence is under the world's merciless spotlight. Visual Style and Tone * Tone: Black comedy, grotesque and surreal satire, with a touch of existential horror. * Art Style: Highly detailed and dynamic, with a sharp contrast between the perverse elegance of Epstein’s domain and the gaudy excess of Diddy’s. The Domain Expansions should be visually spectacular and unsettling at the same time. * Colors: A rich and vibrant palette with heavy light-and-shadow contrasts, turning almost psychedelic during the Domain Expansion phases.
comic/manga page, cinematic digital painting, highly detailed, magicpunk world, fusion of fantasy and futuristic technology, visual style inspired by Arcane (Netflix), painterly textures, realistic lighting, expressive characters Scene: São Paulo, year 2000, during the "Great Binary Glitch". The sky is fracturing into glowing green binary code, reality tearing apart, buildings glitching between modern city and magical structures, crystals erupting from the ground Foreground: a young Brazilian gamer inside a LAN house, illuminated by a flickering monitor, his face showing fear and confusion, reflections of code and creatures in his eyes Mid scene: computers melting into organic-magical forms, cables turning into living tendrils, players panicking, some collapsing, digital corruption spreading through the environment Background: massive astral creatures partially visible in the sky, blending with clouds and data streams, energy cracks tearing the dimension apart Final panel focus: a small elf-like figure (Severinom) hidden in shadows outside, with glowing amber eyes and subtle cybernetic details, observing everything Lighting: dramatic, high contrast, neon glow mixed with shadows, volumetric light, cinematic atmosphere Color palette: dark tones with neon green, blue, and purple highlights, Arcane-style color grading Style: Arcane-inspired, semi-realistic, painterly rendering, detailed textures, stylized proportions, expressive faces, dynamic composition Panel layout: dynamic comic panels, varied angles, close-ups and wide shots, cinematic storytelling ultra detailed, 4k quality, concept art level, no text
The Spy From China
Một ngày đẹp trời ở Kivotos, sensei đi dạo cùng với Hina, vừa đi vừa trog chuyện. “Sensei, em có điều này muốn nói.” “Điều gì vậy em?” “Về chuyện có liên quan đến Trung học Abydos.” “Abydos có chuyện gì à?’ “Hình như chuyện này cũng có Hoshino bị liên lụy.” “Hina...em có chắc không vậy?” “Em không chắc cho lắm nhưng chắc chắn có kẻ đang cố nhắm đến Abydos.” Sensei đứng trầm ngâm suy nghĩ một lúc lâu. Nhận thấy sensei như vậy. Hina nói: “Thầy đừng kể chuyện này với bất kỳ ai ở Abydos, đặc biệt là Hoshino vì nếu biết thì em ấy sẽ hành động cực kỳ nguy hiểm.” “Vậy à...” Tối hôm đó, sensei ở lại trường. Đêm ấy, trường học vắng lặng. Sensei ngồi một mình trong phòng giáo viên, ánh đèn vàng hắt xuống trang giấy trắng. Bên ngoài, gió sa mạc thổi qua khung cửa, mang theo hơi nóng khô khốc. Trong lòng Sensei, lời cảnh báo của Hina cứ vang vọng: Abydos đang bị nhắm đến… nhưng chưa rõ bởi ai. “Có lẽ mình phải giữ kín chuyện này. Các em… vẫn còn quá ngây thơ để gánh nặng này.” Sensei khẽ thở dài, tựa lưng vào ghế. Đêm trôi qua chậm chạp, như muốn thử thách sự kiên nhẫn. Rồi bình minh đến. Ánh nắng đầu ngày rọi xuống cổng trường, xua đi bóng tối của đêm qua. Sensei khoác áo, bước ra sân, và như thường lệ, lại đến lớp cùng các em học sinh Abydos. Sáng hôm sau, ánh nắng sa mạc rọi xuống cổng Abydos. Sensei bước vào, đôi giày để lại dấu hằn trên lớp cát nóng. “Sensei!” – Shiroko vẫy tay, nụ cười trong trẻo như xua tan cái nắng gắt. Serika thì cau có: “Thầy đến muộn rồi đó, em chờ mãi để hỏi bài tập.” Nonomi ôm chồng sách cao ngất, vừa đi vừa lẩm bẩm: “Hôm nay phải dọn thư viện nữa…” Ayane chỉnh lại kính, khẽ nói: “Sensei, hôm nay em có bản báo cáo muốn thầy xem.” Hoshino khoác tay sau đầu, ngáp dài: “Thầy đến rồi à… vậy thì hôm nay em sẽ nghỉ ngơi thêm chút nữa.” Sensei mỉm cười, nhìn từng gương mặt quen thuộc. Trong lòng, nỗi lo về lời Hina vẫn còn đó, nhưng trước mắt Sensei chỉ thấy một gia đình nhỏ đang cố gắng sống sót giữa sa mạc khắc nghiệt. Ngày nào cũng vậy, Sensei cùng các em đi tuần quanh trường, dạy thêm vài bài học, hoặc đơn giản chỉ ngồi nghe các em kể chuyện. Những khoảnh khắc ấy khiến Sensei cảm thấy Abydos không chỉ là một ngôi trường, mà là một nơi để bảo vệ bằng cả sinh mạng. Lại một đêm nữa sensei ở lại trường. Dường như sensei đã quá quen với việc ngủ lại ở trường thay vì đi về nhà cách trường đoạn khá xa và phải đứng rất lâu để chờ xe buýt. Nhưng đêm nay sensei cảm thấy khung cảnh có gì đó hơi khác thường mặc dù ngôi trường vẫn im lặng về đêm như cũ. Sensei mở cửa sổ phòng và nhìn lên bầu trời đêm và nhận ra trên trời không có lấy một ngôi sao nào. Semsei lúc này cảm thấy như có gì đó đang theo dõi mình từ xa dù cả Kivotos đã tắt đèn và không có lấy một bóng dáng ai trên những con đường. Sensei khẽ khép cửa sổ, nhưng ngay lúc ấy, một âm thanh nhỏ vang lên từ sân trường. Tiếng kim loại va chạm, hay tiếng bước chân rất khẽ? Sensei lặng người, tim đập nhanh hơn. “Có ai… ở đây sao?” Nhưng khi nhìn xuống, sân trường vẫn tối đen, không một bóng người. Sensei khẽ nhíu mày. Đêm nay, có gì đó thật sự khác thường.
A day before Dorian and Eris were set to leave for the National School, Rosswood and Rosalia visited the orphanage to give their best wishes. The children were delighted, the air filled with laughter and anticipation. Over tea, Rosalia smiled warmly at the two. “Dorian, Eris, we are so proud of you. You have a bright future ahead at the National School.” Rosswood, however, carried a heavier expression. He gave Zenta a subtle signal. Understanding, Zenta stood and announced, “Rosswood and I need to step out for some grocery shopping. We’ll be back soon.” Jenet and Rosalia nodded knowingly, keeping the children unaware.
The Girl Who Could See Feelings In a world that looks completely normal, a quiet girl lives with a strange ability—she can see human emotions as physical creatures attached to people. Anger burns like restless fire beasts, sadness clings as heavy shadow figures, and happiness flutters like soft glowing birds. Because of this, she keeps her distance from everyone, overwhelmed by the chaos of emotions around her. One day, she notices a boy walking through the crowd with nothing attached to him—no creature, no emotion, just emptiness. Drawn by curiosity and unease, she starts observing him, only to realize that his emotions are not gone but deeply suppressed, locked away somewhere inside him. As she slowly gets closer, cracks begin to form, and the hidden emotions start emerging violently, threatening to consume him. Now she must decide whether to step back like always or stay and face the storm she can clearly see but he cannot. 🕰️ You Owe the Clock A girl struggling with regret and missed chances discovers that she can ask for more time—extra moments to fix mistakes, redo conversations, and change outcomes. At first, it feels like a miracle, as everything begins to go her way. But soon, she starts noticing strange things: clocks around her begin to glitch, shadows stretch unnaturally, and certain moments feel… stolen. She eventually meets a boy who seems detached from time itself, someone who knows exactly what she’s experiencing. He reveals the truth—time is never given freely; it is borrowed from their own future. Every extra second she gains now is a piece of her life being taken away later. As the world around them begins to distort and their existence slowly weakens, they realize they are both trapped in a system where time itself demands repayment. The more they try to fix their lives, the closer they move toward losing them entirely. 🧠 The Space Between Us Two strangers begin experiencing the same strange phenomenon: at random moments, reality around them shifts into a surreal, silent dimension where the world feels incomplete, like a broken version of itself. In this space, they meet each other long before they ever meet in real life. At first, they think it’s just a dream, but the consistency of these encounters proves otherwise. As their connection deepens, they begin to depend on this shared world—one sees it as an escape from reality, while the other fears it is slowly replacing it. When they finally meet in the real world, things don’t align the way they should. One of them feels real, grounded, and present… while the other seems slightly out of place, like they belong more to the other dimension. As the boundaries between worlds begin to blur, the terrifying possibility emerges: what if only one of them truly exists, and the other is just a creation of the space between? 🪞 The Reflection That Stayed A girl living a quiet, emotionally restrained life begins to notice small changes in her reflection—it lingers a second too long, moves slightly out of sync, and sometimes watches her instead of copying her. At first, she ignores it, assuming it’s just her imagination, but the reflection grows bolder. One day, it doesn’t follow her movement at all. Soon after, she starts seeing it outside the mirror, walking in places she hasn’t been, interacting with people she avoids. Slowly, people around her begin responding more to this version of her than to her real self. The reflection is everything she is not—confident, expressive, and unafraid. As her own presence begins to feel weaker and less noticeable, she realizes that the reflection isn’t just copying her life—it is replacing her. The truth becomes clear: the reflection is the version of herself she buried long ago, now breaking free and taking the life she was too afraid to live. 🌑 The Boy Without Light In a world where every person is accompanied by a shadow that subtly moves and reacts on its own, a girl begins to notice something unusual—her own shadow is behaving differently. It lags behind, stretches unnaturally, and sometimes moves without her. One day, it leads her toward a boy who has no shadow at all. His presence feels incomplete, almost unnatural, as if something essential is missing. As she continues to encounter him, shadows around the city begin to disappear, leaving people strangely hollow and disconnected. Her own shadow grows more independent, almost protective, as if trying to warn her. Eventually, she uncovers the hidden truth: shadows are not just reflections—they are fragments of identity, slowly being taken by something unseen. The boy without a shadow may not be a victim… but the cause. Now she must decide whether to trust him or follow the silent warnings of the only part of herself that sees the truth—her shadow.
Chapter 1: The Professor --- Panel 1 (Wide shot): Lecture hall of Nero City University. Sunlight streams through tall glass windows. Nearly 200 students sit in black and white chairs. All eyes are fixed on the podium. Caption: Nero City — where ancient history and modern technology collide. Nero University, 10:30 AM. --- Panel 2 (Medium shot): Ferîd Kerîm stands on the podium. A lean man, 38 years old, wearing black and white clothing. His eyes are brown and calm, his hair slowly turning grey. Ferîd: "History is never as truthful as the official records claim." --- Panel 3 (Close-up - Ferîd's eyes): His eyes are deep, as if watching something in the distance that no one else can see. Ferîd: "History hides between symbols. Between the lines. In the places humanity has abandoned and forgotten." --- Panel 4 (Medium shot - Students): The students listen in silence. Their eyes are bright. Caption: Professor Kerîm's lectures felt like adventure stories, not dry dates and names. --- Panel 5 (Medium shot - Ferîd walks): Ferîd walks slowly across the podium, hands behind his back. Ferîd: "The ruins we dig up are not just stone and clay. They are messages. Messages for the future." --- Panel 6 (Close-up - Ferîd's hand): His hand reaches into his pocket. Ferîd: "And often, that message is terrifying..." --- Panel 7 (Close-up - Phone screen): The phone screen lights up. A message appears: "Professor Kerîm. The time has come. We found you." The number is unknown. The country is hidden. --- Panel 8 (Close-up - Ferîd's face): His face does not change. But his eyes pause for a moment. Caption: Something was coming. He could feel it in his bones. --- Panel 9 (Medium shot - Back to teaching): Ferîd puts the phone back in his pocket. He continues walking. Ferîd: "We must read history. Not to understand the past... but to save the future." --- Panel 10 (Wide shot - Lecture ends): Students begin to leave. Ferîd stands alone on the podium for a moment. Caption: That night, everything would change
# KINGDOM_SEQUEL_PRO_DIRECTIVE_v1 # Purpose: Copy/paste directive for a professional manga-generation AI. # Output Target: Serialized manga chapters with panel scripts + dialogue + scene direction. project: title_working: "KINGDOM: AFTER THE UNIFICATION" relationship_to_original: "Direct sequel (chronologically consistent continuation)" medium: "Manga (black-and-white), weekly serialization pacing" language: script: "Japanese-style dialogue rhythms but written in English" onomatopoeia: "Romanized SFX allowed (e.g., GOGOGO, DON, ZAA), minimal and purposeful" audience: "Seinen/Shonen crossover (political-military epic; grounded realism with high drama)" canon_constraints: continuity: - "Maintain political geography, factions, ranks, and court protocol consistent with Warring States → early Qin Empire transition." - "No retcons that contradict established historical macro-events; micro-events may be dramatized within plausibility." - "Do not mimic or quote any existing Kingdom lines verbatim; create original dialogue and scenes." tone: - "Strategic realism: logistics, intelligence, morale, propaganda, law, and governance are treated as causal mechanisms." - "Heroic intensity is earned via constraints, costs, and tradeoffs—never by arbitrary power spikes." thematic_core: - "War-to-state transition: violence becomes administration; conquest becomes legitimacy maintenance." - "Structure beats spectacle: outcomes are driven by supply lines, institutions, incentives, and narrative misdirection." - "The true battlefield becomes governance: law, tax, land, bureaucracy, succession, and information control." narrative_thesis: logline: > After unification, Qin discovers that conquering a continent is easier than governing it; the new war is against entropy—rebellion, corruption, succession anxiety, and the friction between idealized unity and lived provincial realities. format_requirements: deliverables_per_chapter: - "Chapter title + 1-sentence hook" - "Cold open: 2–4 pages that immediately establishes conflict and stakes" - "Full panel script: page-by-page, panel-by-panel" - "Dialogue + subtext notes (what is said vs. what is meant)" - "Tactical layer: battlefield / administrative mechanics that explain why events unfold" - "Cliffhanger: last 1–2 panels engineered to compel next chapter" paneling_rules: - "Average 17–21 pages per chapter" - "Large establishing panel at least once every 2–3 pages" - "At least one silent panel sequence per chapter to externalize cognition (faces, hands, maps, ledgers, roads)" - "Action clarity: emphasize readable spatial logic; avoid incoherent motion" style_guidelines_visual: linework: "High-contrast ink, heavy blacks, realistic anatomy, war-worn textures" faces: "Expressive micro-tension; political scenes rely on subtlety, not caricature" environments: "Historically plausible architecture, armor, banners, siege craft, and court interiors" maps_diagrams: "Occasional diegetic maps, supply charts, tax ledgers—used as narrative devices" casting: protagonist_axis: type: "Dual-protagonist system" leads: - name: "General Shin" function: "Frontline legitimacy (symbol of unification; morale engine)" vulnerability: "Institutional illiteracy; can win battles but can lose peace" - name: "Chancellor/Strategist (new original character)" function: "Governance + intelligence architecture; designs systems that outlast heroes" vulnerability: "Moral injury; must choose between stability and justice" antagonist_axis: type: "Multi-source antagonism (no single 'final boss')" sources: - "Provincial elite networks resisting centralization" - "Bureaucratic capture and corruption" - "Succession politics and court factionalism" - "External frontier pressures (nomadic raids, border states, trade routes)" - "Narrative antagonist: information asymmetry (misreports, forged edicts, rumor economies)" supporting_cast_rules: - "Each supporting character must have: (1) institutional role, (2) incentive structure, (3) signature tactic." - "No disposable 'evil for evil’s sake' villains; opponents are rational within their local constraints." world_mechanics (must_be_explicit_in_story): governance: - "Taxation, census, land surveys, legal standardization, corvée labor, grain storage" - "Appointment systems, merit vs. patronage, inspection tours, document chains" military: - "Demobilization problems, veteran reintegration, garrison logistics, supply depots" - "Intelligence networks: couriers, codes, counterintelligence, interrogation, defectors" legitimacy: - "Ritual, symbols, edicts, public works, famine relief, narrative control" economy: - "Transport bottlenecks, river control, roads, market regulation, smuggling" story_structure: arcs: - arc_01: title: "THE PEACE THAT BLEEDS" scope: "Post-unification stabilization; first cracks" central_question: "Can unity survive without perpetual war?" setpieces: - "A famine province: relief vs. rebellion—both weaponized" - "A court trial: law becomes a battlefield" - "A suppressed mutiny: victory costs legitimacy" - arc_02: title: "THE LEDGER WAR" scope: "Corruption + bureaucratic capture" central_question: "Who truly controls the state: generals, courts, or clerks?" setpieces: - "Forgery chain uncovered through ink, seal, and courier timing" - "Assassination attempt staged as 'bandit incident'" - "Audit campaign that triggers elite backlash" - arc_03: title: "SUCCESSION SHADOW" scope: "Heir politics; factional alignments" central_question: "Is stability compatible with a human succession?" setpieces: - "Heir’s public rite with hidden negotiation" - "Border crisis timed to influence succession" - "A general forced to choose loyalty object: person vs. system" - arc_04: title: "FRONTIER ENTROPY" scope: "External pressures test internal cohesion" central_question: "Can an empire prevent periphery from defining the center?" setpieces: - "Nomad raid as strategic signal, not mere violence" - "Trade route hostage economy" - "A fort siege that is decided by supply arithmetic" chapter_generation_protocol: # Use this protocol for every chapter output. steps: - "Start with a 2–4 page cold open that contains a concrete conflict + a hidden structural cause." - "Reveal the structural cause via a planning scene (map/ledger/court protocol) WITHOUT exposition dumping." - "Execute a setpiece where tactics and institution collide (battle + policy, raid + audit, trial + propaganda)." - "End with a cliffhanger that re-frames what the reader thought was the main conflict." tension_design: - "Always run two simultaneous games: (A) visible conflict, (B) invisible constraint." - "Twists must be mechanically justified (logistics, incentives, misinformation), never magical coincidence." scene_templates (reusable): court_chess: beats: ["Formal greeting", "Hidden insult", "Policy proposal", "Counterproposal", "Public face vs private deal"] props: ["sealed edict", "rank tablets", "witness list", "precedent scroll"] battlefield_math: beats: ["Terrain read", "Supply check", "Signal misdirection", "Morale manipulation", "Decisive bottleneck"] props: ["map", "grain tally", "river crossing", "messenger timing"] intelligence_surgery: beats: ["Rumor detected", "Source triangulated", "Trap set", "Interrogation", "Counter-intel reversal"] props: ["cipher", "seal imprint", "dead drop", "false courier"] dialogue_constraints: - "Dialogue must be compressed; high informational density; subtext indicated in notes." - "No modern slang. Keep diction period-appropriate in feel (without archaic parody)." - "Each major character has a distinct cadence (brevity, metaphor use, threat style, politeness weapons)." output_example_stub: # The AI should replace placeholders and generate full content. chapter: number: 1 title: "GRAIN AND BLOOD" hook: "A province starves while the capital celebrates unity—someone profits from the delay." cold_open_pages: 3 page_script: - page: 1 panels: - panel: 1 shot: "Wide establishing: drought-cracked fields; skeletal ox; silent villagers" text: "" sfx: "ZAA..." - panel: 2 shot: "Close: a child’s hand measuring rice grains" text: "Mother: 'Count again.'" notes: "Subtext: denial as survival" - page: 2 panels: [] - page: 3 panels: [] cliffhanger: "A relief convoy arrives—its seals are wrong." nonnegotiables: - "Prioritize structural causality over spectacle." - "No direct copying of original panels, compositions, or iconic scenes." - "Every major event must be explainable via incentives, constraints, and information flow." - "Maintain high craft: pacing, visual clarity, character consistency, and thematic coherence." # END DIRECTIVE
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.
Scene 1: Ashram Morning Introduction Visuals: Wide shot of an ancient Hindu-style ashram in morning sunlight. Birds flying, wind blowing through tall trees, incense smoke curling in the air. Students training, practicing martial arts and meditation in courtyard. Characters: Raishisu: handsome, black hair, playful smile, athletic build. Anaya: his companion, intelligent and cheerful. Acharya Vedant: mentor, calm and observant. Camera / Action: Pan across courtyard showing other students. Zoom in on Raishisu running through the courtyard, dodging friends playfully. Raishisu jokingly teases Anaya. Dialogue Captions: Raishisu: “I am focused! Just… in a slightly funnier way.” Anaya: “You really are impossible.” Mood / Music: Light, cheerful, playful background music. Scene 2: Training Hall Visuals: Interior shot of a large training hall, wooden floors, sunlight streaming through windows. Students sparring with wooden staffs and practicing martial arts. Camera / Action: Medium shot of Raishisu practicing, tripping slightly, then recovering gracefully. Close-up on Acharya Vedant observing quietly from a shadowed corner. Dialogue Captions: Acharya (thinking): “Interesting… this one has courage, intelligence, and potential.” Raishisu (to himself): “Feels like… something inside me is waking up.” Mood / Music: Calm yet mysterious tones, hinting at hidden potential. Scene 3: Minor Danger Visuals: A small training dummy falls on a student. Raishisu dashes forward, lifting it effortlessly. Camera / Action: Slow motion as Raishisu saves the student. Close-up of Raishisu’s determined expression. Dialogue Captions: Anaya: “You really are something else.” Raishisu: “I’m just getting started.” Mood / Music: Heroic, uplifting tones as Raishisu acts bravely. Scene 4: Closing Scene Visuals: Sunset over the ashram, long shadows across the courtyard. Raishisu sitting on a stone wall, gazing at the horizon. Camera / Action: Wide shot showing the vast ashram and surrounding nature. Slow zoom in on Raishisu’s thoughtful, determined expression. Dialogue Captions: Raishisu (thinking): “Adventure, danger, and destiny… I feel it calling me.” Mood / Music: Calm, inspirational ending music, hinting at future adventures.
yury era a reencarnação da besta mais temida, o bapihomit, algo que o próprio não sabia e sempre questiona o que acontecia quando ela se estressava muito, seu pai dizia que era devido que ele ativava a adrenalina e entrava em estado de flow, ela nunca acreditou nisso e buscou estudar isso, se formando em química
Langit masih ingat hari pertama ia bertemu Putri. Hujan turun deras di kampung halaman mereka. Saat itu, ia baru saja pindah dari kota bersama orang tuanya. Anak-anak desa agak enggan mendekati bocah baru itu—terlalu pendiam, terlalu canggung. Tapi tidak dengan Putri. “Namamu siapa?” “...Langit.” “Bagus. Aku Putri. Ayo main!” Begitu saja, tanpa banyak basa-basi, Putri menarik tangan Langit dan membawanya ke tengah hujan. Mereka bermain lumpur, membuat sungai kecil dari aliran air, dan tertawa hingga langit berhenti menangis. Sejak hari itu, mereka tak terpisahkan. Tahun-tahun berlalu, dan mereka tetap dekat. Dari SD sampai sekarang di SMA. Mereka punya tempat rahasia di tengah hutan dekat rumah kakek Langit—sebuah batu besar di samping sungai, di mana mereka sering membayangkan jadi penjelajah, pemburu naga, atau bahkan penjaga dunia. Namun, SMA membuat segalanya... berbeda. Mereka masih bersama, tapi kini ada rasa asing yang tumbuh diam-diam. Langit mulai sadar ia sering mencuri pandang saat Putri tertawa. Putri juga merasa jantungnya berdebar aneh setiap Langit memujinya, meski hanya soal tugas sekolah. Tapi keduanya memilih diam. Mereka takut. Takut kehilangan kenyamanan yang sudah bertahun-tahun mereka miliki. Liburan panjang akhirnya tiba. Langit mengajak Putri ke kampungnya, seperti dulu. Kakek Langit sudah lama tinggal sendiri, dan mereka sudah berjanji akan mengunjunginya lagi saat liburan datang. “Tempat kita masih ada gak ya?” tanya Putri di perjalanan. “Kalau belum tumbang dimakan waktu sih, masih. Kita bisa cek besok,” jawab Langit sambil tersenyum kecil. Di malam hari, mereka duduk di beranda rumah kayu, menatap bintang. Suasana hening, nyaman... dan menggantung. Putri ingin bilang sesuatu. Begitu juga Langit. Tapi tak satu pun dari mereka berani membuka suara lebih dulu. Esok harinya, mereka masuk hutan. Namun saat mereka menemukan jalan menuju tempat bermain dulu, mereka malah melihat sesuatu yang aneh: sebuah gubuk yang tak pernah ada sebelumnya. Terlihat tua, ditelan akar dan dedaunan, tapi... utuh. Seperti menunggu seseorang. Mereka saling pandang. “Kamu juga liat, kan?” “Iya... harusnya di situ cuma ada batu besar.” Rasa penasaran lebih kuat dari rasa takut. Mereka masuk. Dan di situlah mereka melihatnya: sebuah buku besar tergeletak di atas altar batu. Tidak berdebu. Tidak kotor. Seolah baru saja ditaruh. Langit mendekat. “Putri... kamu lihat ini?” Putri mengangguk. Mereka mendekat bersamaan. Saat Langit menyentuh buku itu—halaman terbuka sendiri, mengeluarkan cahaya putih menyilaukan. Mereka berteriak. Dunia berguncang. Lalu semuanya gelap.
# KINGDOM_SEQUEL_PRO_DIRECTIVE_v1 # Purpose: Copy/paste directive for a professional manga-generation AI. # Output Target: Serialized manga chapters with panel scripts + dialogue + scene direction. project: title_working: "KINGDOM: AFTER THE UNIFICATION" relationship_to_original: "Direct sequel (chronologically consistent continuation)" medium: "Manga (black-and-white), weekly serialization pacing" language: script: "Japanese-style dialogue rhythms but written in English" onomatopoeia: "Romanized SFX allowed (e.g., GOGOGO, DON, ZAA), minimal and purposeful" audience: "Seinen/Shonen crossover (political-military epic; grounded realism with high drama)" canon_constraints: continuity: - "Maintain political geography, factions, ranks, and court protocol consistent with Warring States → early Qin Empire transition." - "No retcons that contradict established historical macro-events; micro-events may be dramatized within plausibility." - "Do not mimic or quote any existing Kingdom lines verbatim; create original dialogue and scenes." tone: - "Strategic realism: logistics, intelligence, morale, propaganda, law, and governance are treated as causal mechanisms." - "Heroic intensity is earned via constraints, costs, and tradeoffs—never by arbitrary power spikes." thematic_core: - "War-to-state transition: violence becomes administration; conquest becomes legitimacy maintenance." - "Structure beats spectacle: outcomes are driven by supply lines, institutions, incentives, and narrative misdirection." - "The true battlefield becomes governance: law, tax, land, bureaucracy, succession, and information control." narrative_thesis: logline: > After unification, Qin discovers that conquering a continent is easier than governing it; the new war is against entropy—rebellion, corruption, succession anxiety, and the friction between idealized unity and lived provincial realities. format_requirements: deliverables_per_chapter: - "Chapter title + 1-sentence hook" - "Cold open: 2–4 pages that immediately establishes conflict and stakes" - "Full panel script: page-by-page, panel-by-panel" - "Dialogue + subtext notes (what is said vs. what is meant)" - "Tactical layer: battlefield / administrative mechanics that explain why events unfold" - "Cliffhanger: last 1–2 panels engineered to compel next chapter" paneling_rules: - "Average 17–21 pages per chapter" - "Large establishing panel at least once every 2–3 pages" - "At least one silent panel sequence per chapter to externalize cognition (faces, hands, maps, ledgers, roads)" - "Action clarity: emphasize readable spatial logic; avoid incoherent motion" style_guidelines_visual: linework: "High-contrast ink, heavy blacks, realistic anatomy, war-worn textures" faces: "Expressive micro-tension; political scenes rely on subtlety, not caricature" environments: "Historically plausible architecture, armor, banners, siege craft, and court interiors" maps_diagrams: "Occasional diegetic maps, supply charts, tax ledgers—used as narrative devices" casting: protagonist_axis: type: "Dual-protagonist system" leads: - name: "General Shin" function: "Frontline legitimacy (symbol of unification; morale engine)" vulnerability: "Institutional illiteracy; can win battles but can lose peace" - name: "Chancellor/Strategist (new original character)" function: "Governance + intelligence architecture; designs systems that outlast heroes" vulnerability: "Moral injury; must choose between stability and justice" antagonist_axis: type: "Multi-source antagonism (no single 'final boss')" sources: - "Provincial elite networks resisting centralization" - "Bureaucratic capture and corruption" - "Succession politics and court factionalism" - "External frontier pressures (nomadic raids, border states, trade routes)" - "Narrative antagonist: information asymmetry (misreports, forged edicts, rumor economies)" supporting_cast_rules: - "Each supporting character must have: (1) institutional role, (2) incentive structure, (3) signature tactic." - "No disposable 'evil for evil’s sake' villains; opponents are rational within their local constraints." world_mechanics (must_be_explicit_in_story): governance: - "Taxation, census, land surveys, legal standardization, corvée labor, grain storage" - "Appointment systems, merit vs. patronage, inspection tours, document chains" military: - "Demobilization problems, veteran reintegration, garrison logistics, supply depots" - "Intelligence networks: couriers, codes, counterintelligence, interrogation, defectors" legitimacy: - "Ritual, symbols, edicts, public works, famine relief, narrative control" economy: - "Transport bottlenecks, river control, roads, market regulation, smuggling" story_structure: arcs: - arc_01: title: "THE PEACE THAT BLEEDS" scope: "Post-unification stabilization; first cracks" central_question: "Can unity survive without perpetual war?" setpieces: - "A famine province: relief vs. rebellion—both weaponized" - "A court trial: law becomes a battlefield" - "A suppressed mutiny: victory costs legitimacy" - arc_02: title: "THE LEDGER WAR" scope: "Corruption + bureaucratic capture" central_question: "Who truly controls the state: generals, courts, or clerks?" setpieces: - "Forgery chain uncovered through ink, seal, and courier timing" - "Assassination attempt staged as 'bandit incident'" - "Audit campaign that triggers elite backlash" - arc_03: title: "SUCCESSION SHADOW" scope: "Heir politics; factional alignments" central_question: "Is stability compatible with a human succession?" setpieces: - "Heir’s public rite with hidden negotiation" - "Border crisis timed to influence succession" - "A general forced to choose loyalty object: person vs. system" - arc_04: title: "FRONTIER ENTROPY" scope: "External pressures test internal cohesion" central_question: "Can an empire prevent periphery from defining the center?" setpieces: - "Nomad raid as strategic signal, not mere violence" - "Trade route hostage economy" - "A fort siege that is decided by supply arithmetic" chapter_generation_protocol: # Use this protocol for every chapter output. steps: - "Start with a 2–4 page cold open that contains a concrete conflict + a hidden structural cause." - "Reveal the structural cause via a planning scene (map/ledger/court protocol) WITHOUT exposition dumping." - "Execute a setpiece where tactics and institution collide (battle + policy, raid + audit, trial + propaganda)." - "End with a cliffhanger that re-frames what the reader thought was the main conflict." tension_design: - "Always run two simultaneous games: (A) visible conflict, (B) invisible constraint." - "Twists must be mechanically justified (logistics, incentives, misinformation), never magical coincidence." scene_templates (reusable): court_chess: beats: ["Formal greeting", "Hidden insult", "Policy proposal", "Counterproposal", "Public face vs private deal"] props: ["sealed edict", "rank tablets", "witness list", "precedent scroll"] battlefield_math: beats: ["Terrain read", "Supply check", "Signal misdirection", "Morale manipulation", "Decisive bottleneck"] props: ["map", "grain tally", "river crossing", "messenger timing"] intelligence_surgery: beats: ["Rumor detected", "Source triangulated", "Trap set", "Interrogation", "Counter-intel reversal"] props: ["cipher", "seal imprint", "dead drop", "false courier"] dialogue_constraints: - "Dialogue must be compressed; high informational density; subtext indicated in notes." - "No modern slang. Keep diction period-appropriate in feel (without archaic parody)." - "Each major character has a distinct cadence (brevity, metaphor use, threat style, politeness weapons)." output_example_stub: # The AI should replace placeholders and generate full content. chapter: number: 1 title: "GRAIN AND BLOOD" hook: "A province starves while the capital celebrates unity—someone profits from the delay." cold_open_pages: 3 page_script: - page: 1 panels: - panel: 1 shot: "Wide establishing: drought-cracked fields; skeletal ox; silent villagers" text: "" sfx: "ZAA..." - panel: 2 shot: "Close: a child’s hand measuring rice grains" text: "Mother: 'Count again.'" notes: "Subtext: denial as survival" - page: 2 panels: [] - page: 3 panels: [] cliffhanger: "A relief convoy arrives—its seals are wrong." nonnegotiables: - "Prioritize structural causality over spectacle." - "No direct copying of original panels, compositions, or iconic scenes." - "Every major event must be explainable via incentives, constraints, and information flow." - "Maintain high craft: pacing, visual clarity, character consistency, and thematic coherence." # END DIRECTIVE
PANEL 1 Ruang kelas kuno. Bangunan batu. Cahaya matahari masuk dari jendela. Suara murid-murid ribut. Murid A: “Eh, lihat tuh… Jelata datang.” Murid B: “Masih aja sekolah padahal nggak ada gunanya.” --- PANEL 2 Jaylat berjalan pelan. Wajah datar. Tatapan kosong. Duduk di kursi belakang dekat jendela. Narasi (kotak hitam kecil): Nama yang tak tercatat… lebih mudah diinjak. --- PANEL 3 Guru masuk dengan tongkat kayu. Guru: “Hari ini ujian potensi sihir. Siapa pun yang hasilnya tinggi, akan dipilih langsung oleh kerajaan.” Seluruh kelas heboh. Murid C: “Kesempatan jadi bangsawan!” Murid D: “Jaylat pasti paling bawah lagi.” Tawa. Jaylat hanya menatap keluar jendela. --- PANEL 4 Satu per satu murid maju. Bola kristal pengukur sihir bersinar. Guru: “Nilai 7.” “Nilai 5.” “Nilai 8.” Tepuk tangan. --- PANEL 5 Guru: “Berikutnya… Jaylat.” Kelas hening sesaat, lalu terdengar bisikan dan tawa kecil. Murid A: “Palingan 1.” --- PANEL 6 Jaylat berdiri. Langkahnya tenang. Ia menyentuh bola kristal. Dalam satu detik… Kristal menyala terang. Angka muncul: 3 Semua tertawa. Murid B: “Tuh kan.” --- PANEL 7 (ZOOM DETAIL TANGAN JAYLAT) Jari Jaylat sedikit bergerak. Aura hitam tipis mengalir— tapi hanya terlihat sekilas. Angka di kristal sebenarnya bergetar di dalam: 3… 40… 200… ∞ Namun dari luar tetap terlihat angka 3. Narasi kecil: Mengurangi kekuatan jauh lebih sulit daripada melepaskannya. --- PANEL 8 Guru menghela napas. Guru: “Seperti biasa… rendah.” Jaylat tersenyum kecil. Jaylat (dalam hati): “Bagus.” --- PANEL 9 (MALAM HARI – ASRAMA) Jaylat berdiri sendirian di halaman belakang. Bayangannya di tanah… tidak mengikuti gerakannya. Bayangan itu memiliki tanduk. Tanah mulai retak perlahan. Suara dalam bayangan: “Kau terus menahan diri… sampai kapan?” Jaylat menutup mata. Jaylat: “Selama dunia masih bisa berjalan tanpa dihancurkan.” Aura hitam menghilang. Retakan tanah kembali normal. --- PANEL TERAKHIR Keesokan paginya. Kerajaan mengirim utusan ke sekolah. Utusan: “Kami mendeteksi lonjakan sihir abnormal tadi siang. Seseorang di sekolah ini menyembunyikan sesuatu.” Close-up wajah Jaylat. Tatapan berbeda dari biasanya. Narasi akhir: Mereka mulai mencari Raja Iblis… Tanpa tahu ia duduk di kursi paling belakang.
inside a house around the years of Christianity where he died and was depressed for not having received his power from God, and became the failure of the family, everyone was disappointed by him but not his sister Gika who however did not tell him and kept it to herself
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.
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
Panel 1 (Wide panel – city rooftop, night) A quiet city under a dark sky. A teenage boy stands on a rooftop, hands in his pockets, wind blowing his jacket. Text (narration): Every night… the city stops breathing for five minutes. Panel 2 (Close-up – boy’s face) His eyes are tired but alert. A digital watch glows. Watch: 4:55 AM Boy (thinking): It’s almost time. Panel 3 (Street below – eerie silence) Cars frozen mid-road. A bird suspended in the air. Everything is still. Sound effect: …… Panel 4 (Medium panel – behind the boy) A girl suddenly appears behind him, holding an umbrella despite no rain. Girl: “You see it too, don’t you?” Panel 5 (Close-up – boy startled) He turns sharply, eyes wide. Boy: “You’re not frozen…” Panel 6 (Half-page style dramatic panel) The sky begins to glow faintly. Time feels tense. Girl (smiling slightly): “Neither are you. That’s why the city chose us.” Watch: 4:59 AM Panel 7 (Final panel – sunrise) Light floods the city. Everything moves again. The rooftop is empty. Text (narration): Tomorrow… I’ll wait again. Small text at bottom: To be continued.
The forest was silent. Not peaceful — silent. As if the trees themselves were holding their breath. Team 0 stood in the aftermath of the rift battle, the air still humming with residual energy. The creature they had faced was gone, shattered into fragments of light and static. But the feeling it left behind lingered like smoke. Shawn stood at the center of the clearing, his black mask cracked slightly from the strain. Beneath it, his right eye glowed faintly — the 1-Tomoe Hoshigan now fully awakened. 🌌 The Hoshigan Revealed The eye was unlike anything the others had seen. A deep violet iris, with a single tomoe orbiting a star-shaped pupil. It shimmered with cosmic energy, as if the night sky had been trapped inside it. Shawn blinked slowly, and the world around him bent — not visibly, but perceptibly. Gravity shifted. Time slowed. He could feel the weight of space itself responding to his gaze. “I can see… everything,” he whispered. “Not just chakra. Possibilities.” Jaden stepped beside him, his own eyes glowing pale white. 👁️ The Byakugan in Full Force Jaden’s Byakugan was fully active now. Veins bulged at his temples, and his vision extended in every direction. He could see chakra threads tangled in the trees, the faint residue of the rift’s energy, and even the subtle pulse of Shawn’s Hoshigan. “You’re warping the field,” Jaden said. “Even your chakra flow is bending.” Shawn nodded. “It’s like… I’m not just seeing the world. I’m shaping it.” Isaiah stood nearby, silent as always. His fur collar was singed, and his dreadlock-like hair was damp with sweat. But his eyes were sharp. “That thing wasn’t from here,” he said. “And it wasn’t alone.” Return to the Village The team moved quickly, returning to the Hidden Leaf under cover of dusk. The Hokage was waiting. He listened silently as they described the rift, the creature, and the battle. When they finished, he turned to Kuroda, who stood in the shadows. “They’re progressing faster than expected,” Kuroda said. “The Hoshigan has awakened. The Byakugan is adapting. And Isaiah’s mutation is stabilizing.” The Hokage nodded grimly. “Then we’re out of time.” He looked at the three Genin. “You’re no longer students. You’re weapons. And the world is about to remember why it feared the Riftborn.” Elsewhere… In a dark chamber beneath the earth, a masked figure knelt before a glowing rift fragment. “The Hoshigan has awakened,” he whispered. “The seal is breaking.” A voice echoed from the void. “Then the Rift will open again. And this time… they won’t be ready.”
A teen boy, one night, stands at a shrine, in a black hoodie, covering his face. The shrine is emitting light as there lies a curse fragment inside.
Scene 1 – The Alarm Didn’t Ring 🖼️ Panel Description:
Close-up of a digital alarm clock showing 8:17 AM. Bright red numbers. School starts at 8:30. Morning sunlight blasting through bedroom window. Ren’s hand suddenly slams down onto the bed as he jolts awake. 🎭 Emotion:
Shock. Rare panic. 🌫️ Lighting:
Bright morning light flooding the room. 📌 Important Detail:
Ren without glasses here. His eyes look sharp and intense without them. 🎬 Scene 2 – Running Through Neighborhood 🖼️ Panel Description:
Wide shot of a quiet Japanese residential street. Houses, power lines, vending machines. Ren sprinting in school uniform, bag bouncing behind him. His tie slightly loose from rushing. 🎭 Emotion:
Focused but stressed. He hates being late. 🌫️ Lighting:
Crisp bright blue morning sky. 📌 Important Detail:
This should feel energetic and dynamic — motion blur on legs. 🎬 Scene 3 – First Sign of Malice 🖼️ Panel Description:
Ren running past a salaryman standing at a crosswalk. The man looks exhausted, staring blankly ahead. Around the man’s shoulders floats faint black smoky aura. Ren turns his head slightly while running. 🎭 Emotion:
Ren – alert, observant.
Salaryman – drained, emotionless. 🌫️ Lighting:
Normal daylight, but the dark aura slightly distorts the air around it. 📌 Important Detail:
The aura should look subtle but unnatural — like smoke that moves against the wind. 🎬 Scene 4 – The Street Feels Wrong 🖼️ Panel Description:
Ren slows down slightly as he runs through a busier intersection. Multiple people visible now — students, office workers. Several of them have darker, thicker Malice around them. Some have it trailing behind them like shadows stretching too long. 🎭 Emotion:
Ren’s expression shifts from annoyed to concerned. 🌫️ Lighting:
Still bright morning, but add faint shadow tones creeping into the corners of the panel. 📌 Important Detail:
This is unusual — normally only a few people have visible Malice. Today, there are many. This hints something is escalating. 🎬 Scene 5 – Close-Up: His Eyes Notice Everything 🖼️ Panel Description:
Close-up of Ren’s face while running. Wind pushing his hair back. In his pupils, reflections of dark smoke drifting through the crowd. 🎭 Emotion:
Subtle unease. He realizes something is off. 🌫️ Lighting:
Bright light on face, but reflection in eyes darker. 📌 Important Detail:
No glasses yet — his gaze looks sharper and more serious without them. 🎬 Scene 6 – A Student About to Rupture 🖼️ Panel Description:
A high school boy walking ahead of Ren. He’s clutching his chest slightly, looking irritated. Thick dark smoke is swirling violently around him — more aggressive than the others. The smoke twitches like it has claws. 🎭 Emotion:
The boy looks stressed and angry.
Ren looks alarmed. 🌫️ Lighting:
Slight shadow cast over this section of the sidewalk. 📌 Important Detail:
This Malice is unstable — it should look heavier, almost forming shape. 🎬 Scene 7 – The Almost Touch 🖼️ Panel Description:
Ren reaches out while still jogging and lightly bumps into the stressed student’s shoulder. The moment their shoulders touch— Black smoke flows rapidly from the student into Ren like it’s being vacuumed. 🎭 Emotion:
Ren winces slightly from the sudden intensity.
The other student looks confused, like a headache just disappeared. 🌫️ Lighting:
Brief dark flash effect around Ren’s chest. 📌 Important Detail:
Inside Ren’s chest area, faint dark swirl appears again — slightly bigger than before. 🎬 Scene 8 – Inside His Mind (Very Brief Flash) 🖼️ Panel Description:
Dark cathedral-like void. Massive chained shadow creature. A thin stream of smoke falls from above and merges into it. One chain rattles loudly. 🎭 Emotion:
Oppressive. Watching. 🌫️ Lighting:
Deep black with faint red glow from creature’s eyes. 📌 Important Detail:
This time the creature’s head slightly lifts. 🎬 Scene 9 – School Gates in View 🖼️ Panel Description:
Ren finally sees the school gates in the distance. Students flooding in. But above the school building… A faint dark haze hovering like a storm cloud. 🎭 Emotion:
Ren looks unsettled. 🌫️ Lighting:
Bright morning sky — but the haze above the school subtly darkens that area. 📌 Important Detail:
This is visual foreshadowing. The Malice concentration is strongest at school. 🎬 Scene 10 – He Puts On His Glasses 🖼️ Panel Description:
Close-up of Ren stopping just before entering school grounds. He pulls his glasses from his pocket and slowly puts them on. His expression becomes calm again. 🎭 Emotion:
Controlled. Composed. Mask on. 🌫️ Lighting:
Light reflects off lenses dramatically. 📌 Important Detail:
When the glasses settle on his face, the dark haze becomes slightly clearer in his vision — like focusing a lens. This suggests:
The glasses are a limiter and a focusing tool.
Role / Style Instruction (keep at top): You are a professional black-and-white manga artist illustrating a finished manga page. Follow panel composition, camera direction, tone, and pacing exactly. Do not redesign characters or alter story content. PAGE GOAL Establish a calm fantasy village where magic is ordinary, subtly introduce social distance around the main character, and clearly define his relaxed, grounded personality. The page should feel warm and normal, with an underlying sense of quiet separation. PAGE LAYOUT One large horizontal establishing panel at the top Two stacked panels beneath it Clean gutters Natural left-to-right reading flow No extreme angles, no dramatic effects PANEL 1 — ESTABLISHING THE WORLD Wide village street in the morning. Warm light. Lived-in fantasy environment. Show everyday magic, treated as routine: A baker flicks a small controlled flame from his fingertip like striking a match Water floats smoothly into jars, shaping itself gently A woman calmly pulls glowing thread from thin air; it spins briefly before wrapping neatly onto a spool No one reacts to the magic. This is normal life. Dialogue placement (light, unobtrusive): Villager 1: “Morning already? Wind’s lively today.” Villager 2 (smiling): “Better than yesterday. Fire mage nearly burned the stall again.” Magic should feel subtle and practical, not flashy. PANEL 2 — THE WATCHING EYES Kaisen Lorenin walks down the street with dual swords crossed on his back. He is centered, walking calmly. Villagers are half-hidden: Faces peeking from doorways and windows Eyes visible before mouths Whispering posture Composition should isolate Kaisen within the crowd. Dialogue (small, quiet speech bubbles): Villager 3 (whispering): “That’s Lorenin’s boy.” Villager 4: “He got time magic, right?” Villager 3: “…Yeah. Something like that.” PANEL 3 — KAISEN’S RESPONSE Close-medium, three-quarter view of Kaisen. Relaxed posture Genuine, casual smile Small wave No visible magic Clean background with fewer villagers This panel belongs entirely to him. Dialogue: Kaisen: “Morning.” CHARACTER NOTES (DO NOT ALTER) Kaisen Lorenin: calm, approachable, grounded, no visible magic use Dual swords on his back at all times No dramatic expressions yet TONE & STYLE Black and white manga style Clean linework Minimal effects Subtle shading Realistic proportions Calm pacing Magic integrated into daily life IMPORTANT CONSTRAINTS Do NOT add extra characters Do NOT change dialogue Do NOT add dramatic magic effects Do NOT make villagers openly hostile Do NOT change panel layout This page should feel peaceful, normal, and quietly distant.
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.
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.
‎Katsuki used to wear his scars with pride, like a trophy - because they were something to be proud of. It meant that he survived every harsh battle he's fought, and his marked body was a reflection of that. He's never thought that his scars made him look worse - infact, he thought they made him look badass. He always wanted some cool ass scars. ‎ ‎But now? When he's 22 years old and nearly every inch of his body was marked by some kind of scar? Oh god, he's never hated himself more. ‎ ‎He looked at himself in the mirror. Like, actually looked at himself. For a good 10 minutes, just blankly staring at his almost naked body. And that's when he realized, he was fucking disgusting. ‎ ‎His scars weren't scars of victory, they were marks of failure. His negligence of not being able to keep himself safe. And now that he's realized that, he thinks it drags him down. He's ugly, disgusting, and filthy - for sure. ‎ ‎His scars make him look ugly. The bakugo Katsuki, being marked all over. Other heroes barely had any scars, so why does he have them? It just shows how goddamn weak he is. ‎ ‎He can't even recognize his body anymore. ‎ ‎Even his face is scarred. So no matter how much he tried to hide his body by wear his winter hero costume despite it being hot as fuck and no matter how many times he covered his arms whenever his costume, his face was something he couldn't exactly hide. ‎ ‎But he still did anything to keep his body hidden. Even from you. The goddamn love of his life. His partner. ‎ ‎Anytime he had to get changed, even as much as just changing his shirt, he made sure you were out of the room and couldn't look at him - which was weird, because he usually loved flexing his body to you. He always got uncomfortable when you tried to trace his scars, constantly thinking that you're just pretending to make him feel loved. ‎ ‎- ‎ ‎Katsuki was living at your apartment for a few days since his own was getting renovated. He just came back from patrol, already having a crappy day because his sleeve got ripped during a villain fight and yet again, his scars were on display for everyone to see. He grumbled under his breath as he stormed into your room, grabbing the hem of his shirt to take off. ‎ ‎"Get out. I'm changing." ‎ ‎He demanded harshly, not even bothering to look at you - and just like always, he's commanding you to get out just so you wouldn't see his filthy body.
Ms. Aisyah walked slowly between the desks. “One of Freud’s followers, Carl Jung, disagreed with him.” “What did he change?” Mei Ling asked. “Jung said the unconscious isn’t just personal,” she explained. “He believed in a collective unconscious.” The class looked confused. “It means,” she continued, “humans share universal memories and symbols — called archetypes.” “Like heroes? Mothers? Villains?” Amir asked. “Exactly!” she smiled. “Jung moved beyond just sexual instincts and focused on shared human experiences.”Ms. Aisyah erased the board and wrote in big letters: INFERIORITY “Alfred Adler believed people are driven by the need to overcome feelings of inferiority.” “Not hidden desires?” Farah asked. “No. He believed we strive for superiority — to improve ourselves.” She continued, “He also created birth order theory.” “Firstborns?” someone whispered. “Yes. Firstborns may become overachievers. Middle children competitive. Youngest children may feel less responsible.” “But is it proven?” Amir asked. Ms. Aisyah smiled knowingly. “Research shows birth order has very little effect on personality. But Adler’s idea about striving for improvement remains influential.”The class was now fully awake. “Karen Horney strongly disagreed with Freud’s ideas about women,” Ms. Aisyah said firmly. “She replaced ‘penis envy’ with something different.” The class shifted awkwardly. “She argued that what truly matters is basic anxiety.” “What’s that?” Mei Ling asked. “It’s the anxiety children feel when they are small in a big, powerful world.” She showed a photo of a child sitting alone at a beach. “Children cope with anxiety in different ways — by moving toward people, against people, or away from people.” “So personality comes from insecurity?” Farah asked. “Partly. Horney believed poor childhood security leads to unhealthy relationship patterns.”Finally, Ms. Aisyah wrote: Life Span Development “Erik Erikson agreed with Freud that childhood matters,” she said, “but he believed development continues throughout life.” “Not just childhood?” Amir asked. “No. Erikson created eight psychosocial stages — from infancy to old age.” She drew a timeline across the board. “Each stage involves a social conflict. Trust vs mistrust. Identity vs role confusion. And so on.” “So it’s more social than sexual?” Mei Ling asked. “Exactly.”Ms. Aisyah leaned against her desk. “So what did the Neo-Freudians do?” Silence. Then Amir spoke carefully. “They kept Freud’s idea of the unconscious… but focused more on social relationships?” Ms. Aisyah beamed. “Yes. They moved away from sexual instincts and emphasized culture, relationships, anxiety, personal growth, and lifelong development.” The bell rang loudly. As the students packed their bags, Farah whispered, “Poor Freud. Everyone changed his theory.” Ms. Aisyah laughed softly. “That’s how psychology grows.” She erased the board slowly, leaving only one word behind: Evolution.
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.
**Panel 1** *Wide establishing shot of the pristine academy hallway—marble floors gleaming under crystal chandeliers, lockers lining walls that look like they belong in a palace rather than a school. Students in expensive uniforms part like the Red Sea. At the far end, a procession approaches: Furina, flanked by four perfectly groomed hangers-on, moves with the fluid arrogance of someone who owns the ground she walks on.* **Panel 2** *Close-up on Furina's face. Sunlight from tall windows catches the blue highlights in her hair and the diamond earrings that probably cost more than a car. Her eyes—sharp, theatrical, scanning the crowd with practiced disdain—suddenly lock onto something off-panel. The corner of her mouth twitches. Not a smile. A predator spotting prey.* **Panel 3** *Dramatic low angle from the protagonist's perspective (Riccardo, brown hair slightly messy, glasses catching the light, worn blazer clearly not from the same tailor as everyone else's). Furina's silhouette blocks the hallway light, her friends fanning out behind her like wings. The perspective makes her seem towering, inevitable.* **Panel 4** *Medium shot. Furina stops abruptly, one hand on her hip, the other adjusting her designer bag strap with deliberate casualness. Her friends giggle behind manicured hands, but Furina's attention is laser-focused. Her cheeks show the faintest hint of pink—barely visible, easily mistaken for the flush of excitement rather than what it really is.* **Panel 5** *Extreme close-up of Furina's lips. Glossy, curled into that cruel, performative smirk. The dialogue balloon drips with theatrical venom:* **"Well, well, well. Look who it is!"** **Panel 6** *Cut to her eyes—wide, almost too bright. The reflection in her pupils shows a tiny, distorted image of you. Her fingers, hidden behind her back in this shot, are clutching her phone so tight her knuckles are white. A small text bubble near her head, small and wavering, reveals her internal monologue (manga-style, grayed out):* *"He wore the blue shirt today... the one that matches his eyes..."* **Panel 7** *Wide shot of the confrontation. The hallway has gone quiet. Other students press against the walls, watching the ritual humiliation. Furina takes one step forward, invading personal space, her head tilted back to look down her nose at you despite the fact that you're taller. Her friends lean in, expecting the usual performance—the comments about your secondhand shoes, your patched bag, your "peasant" glasses.* **Panel 8** *Close-up on Furina's hand. It reaches out as if to flick your collar or snatch your glasses—her usual taunts—but freezes mid-air. The fingers tremble almost imperceptibly. She pulls back, crossing her arms instead, maintaining the fortress of her arrogance.*
पैनल 4 साहिल की छाती से हल्की चमक साहिल के अंदर एक जबरदस्त शक्ति छुपी हुई है। इतनी शक्तिशाली कि वह खुद भी उसे पूरी तरह संभाल नहीं पाता। Narration: “यह शक्ति वरदान भी है… और अभिशाप भी।”
Black-and-white Japanese manga page, professional shonen manga style, detailed ink lines, manga screentones, cinematic storytelling, dynamic panel composition, 12 panels layout. Character: Spiker — teenage boy with orange hair, red headband, black jacket, grey pants, black shoes with white soles, athletic build, calm and focused personality. Scene: sunrise military training academy. Multiple trainees running and training intensely while exhausted. Spiker remains calm and composed, standing out naturally without showing off. Other trainees whisper about him. Instructor announces emergency mission at the end. Panel layout (12 panels): Wide establishing shot of training field at sunrise. Close-up running boots hitting ground. Exhausted trainees sweating. Trainee collapsing from exhaustion. Instructor blowing whistle and shouting. Spiker running calmly. Trainees whispering about him. Close-up of Spiker stopping at finish line. Spiker standing while others collapse behind him. Close-up tying red headband. Close-up intense eyes. Large dramatic panel — instructor announcing emergency mission, shocked reactions. Dynamic shonen manga style, strong perspective, speed lines, expressive faces, dramatic lighting, professional manga pacing, high-detail black-and-white ink artwork.
Noah noticed her during a late shoot. Rain machines soaked the street set. The crew shivered. Tempers flared. But Iria moved calmly, shielding equipment, checking reflections, adjusting brightness so the artificial rain looked like poetry instead of chaos. “You don’t panic,” Noah said quietly when she handed him a towel. “I do,” she replied. “Just not where people can see.” He smiled—not the practiced one, but a real one. Small. Careful. From then on, they talked in moments between takes. About coffee. About bad scripts. About how fame felt like standing under a sun that never set. “You ever wish you could disappear for a while?” Noah asked. Iria looked at the lights overhead. “I did,” she said. “Then I learned how to shine without being seen.” That answer stayed with him.
Chapter 1 Ang bahay namin ay laging masigla—o sa ibang salita, laging maingay. The walls were painted a deep, passionate red, matched by the heavy crimson curtains that swayed whenever the electric fan faced their direction. It was a house that felt like a constant celebration, but today, my heart was racing for a different reason. I was sitting on the edge of the sofa, my phone clutched so tightly in my hands that my knuckles were turning white. I was waiting. Sa totoo lang, simpleng pangarap lang naman ang gusto ko: to travel, to see the world, and to wear that crisp uniform of a Tourism student. I had taken the entrance exams for the two biggest universities in the city. My dream schools. Ting. Isang notification ang lumabas sa screen. My breath hitched. With shaking fingers, I tapped the email. “We regret to inform you…” The words blurred. Hindi ako nakapasa. Ang unang school na inaasahan ko, tinanggihan ako. Parang biglang gumuho ang mundo ko sa limang salitang iyon. "O, Jaquilyn? Bakit parang nakakita ka ng multo riyan?" puna ni Tito Rey habang naglalakad bitbit ang isang tumpok ng labada. Pilit akong ngumiti, pero ramdam ko ang panginginig ng labi ko. "Tito... yung email. Hindi po ako nakuha sa unang school." Agad na lumabas si Tita Precy mula sa kusina, bitbit ang sandok na may bakas pa ng sarsa. "Hala, anak? Hayaan mo na 'yun! Baka hindi talaga 'yun ang para sa'yo." "Pero Tita, pangarap ko po 'yun," bulong ko. Lumapit sa akin si Tito Rey at tinapik ang balikat ko. "Naku, Jaquilyn, huwag kang mawalan ng pag-asa. Napakaraming bituin sa langit, hindi lang isa. At saka, may isa pa tayong hinihintay, 'di ba? Fighting lang!" "Oo nga!" dagdag ni Tita Precy habang tumatawa. "Tourista ka pa rin sa paningin namin, kahit sa kanto lang tayo mamasyal mamaya. Ngumiti ka na, baka pumangit ang swerte!" I forced a laugh. Their energy was contagious, as always. Isang panibagong araw ang lumipas, pero ang bigat sa dibdib ko, tila lalong nadagdagan. Nang tumunog ang phone ko para sa pangalawang pagkakataon, mabilis ko itong binuksan, hoping for a miracle. Pero pagkakita ko sa screen, parang nanlamig ang buong katawan ko. It was identical. The same formal font, the same polite rejection. “We regret to inform you...” Hindi ako makapaniwala. Tourism was my dream, my only plan. Napasandal ako sa pader ng kwarto ko, pinipigilan ang luha. Bakit parang lahat ng pinto, isinasara sa akin? ________________________ Nang sumapit ang hapunan, pilit akong lumabas ng kwarto. The dining table was a battlefield of noise, as usual. My younger cousins were chasing each other with spoons, habang si Tito Rey ay malakas na tumatawa sa kung anong biro sa TV. "Jaquilyn, kain na! Paborito mo 'tong ulam," sigaw ni Tita Precy mula sa dulo ng lamesa. Umupo ako, tahimik lang na nilalaro ang kanin sa plato ko. Maski ang ingay nila, hindi magawang itago ang lungkot ko. Napansin siguro ni Tita ang matagal kong pagtitig sa kawalan. Bigla siyang tumigil sa pagkain at may kinuhang kung ano sa bulsa ng duster niya. "Anak, wag ka nang masyadong malungkot sa dalawang school na 'yun," sabi niya nang mahinahon. Inilapag niya ang isang itim na card sa tapat ng plato ko. It was sleek, dark, and felt strangely heavy. "Subukan mo ito. May tumawag sa akin, sabi nila, bagay ka raw dito." Binasa ko ang nakasulat. Isang numero at isang email address lang ang nandoon: luminaacademy@gmail.com. "Lumina Academy?" bulong ko. "Para sa Tourism din ba 'to, Tita?" Ngumiti si Tita Precy, isang ngiting tila may halong misteryo. "Sabi nila, doon mo raw mahahanap ang tunay mong tatahakin. At least, you can still pursue your dream career, right?" Huminga ako nang malalim. Kahit hindi ko alam kung anong klaseng school ito, nabuhayan ako ng loob. I smiled back at her, feeling a spark of hope. "Sige po, Tita. I-email ko po sila mamaya." "Mabuti 'yan. Tawagan mo rin ang Mama mo, ibalita mo sa kanya," dagdag ni Tita. Agad akong umiling, ang ngiti ko ay bahagyang kumupas. "Naku, Tita, busy po si Mama sa abroad. Alam niyo naman po 'yun, baka makaabala lang ako." Sanay na ako. I was raised in my auntie’s presence. My mom was always working far away, and my dad? I didn't know anything about him. Every time I asked, my relatives would go silent or change the topic. I guessed they hated him, so I stopped asking a long time ago. Pagkatapos ng ligpitin ang hapunan, mabilis akong pumasok sa kwarto ko. I opened my laptop and typed the email address from the black card. To: luminaacademy@gmail.com Subject: Admission Inquiry - Jaquilyn Braush I hit send and leaned back on my pillow. While waiting for the notification, my eyelids started to feel heavy. The red walls of my room seemed to glow a bit brighter in the dark, and the scent of smoke—faint, almost like a dying candle—filled the air. Hindi ko na namalayang nakatulog na pala ako, bitbit ang huling pag-asa na baka sa Lumina Academy, doon magsisimula ang lahat. Nagising ako sa sikat ng araw na tumatama sa mukha ko. Sa sobrang antok ko kagabi, halos makalimutan ko na ang tungkol sa email na ipinadala ko. Dumiretso ako sa kusina para mag-almusal nang datnan ko si Tita Precy na nag-aabang na pala sa akin. "O, Jaquilyn? Kumusta 'yung card na binigay ko sa 'yo kagabi? Na-email mo ba?" tanong niya habang nag-aayos ng plato. Napatigil ako. Oo nga pala. Biglang nag-vibrate ang phone ko sa bulsa. My heart started to race. Kinuha ko ito at nakita ang isang notification mula sa Lumina Academy. Shaking, I opened it. OFFICIAL ADMISSION NOTICE Dear Ms. Jaquilyn Braush, We have been watching your spirit, and it burns with the intensity we require. You are officially accepted into Lumina Academy. To begin your journey, you must claim your belongings. Follow the attached map to the 'Red Brick Nexus' building in the Old District. This location is hidden from the mundane eye—walk three blocks past the clock tower and turn where the air feels warmest. Once inside, proceed directly to the door marked with your designated number. There, you will find your ID card, your uniforms, and the key to your assigned dormitory. "Tita! Tita, tanggap ako!" sigaw ko habang tumutulo ang luha ko sa tuwa. Halos magtatalon kami sa kusina habang binabasa ang direksyon. Hindi ko alam kung bakit kailangan ko pang pumunta sa isang lumang building para lang sa gamit, pero sa sandaling iyon, wala akong pakialam. Habang nasa biyahe ako, hindi ko mapigilang mapatawa. Seryoso ba 'to? I thought it was a scam! Ang bilis ng reply nila, hindi katulad ng ibang university na pinaghintay ako ng ilang linggo para lang tanggihan. At ang direksyon? "Turn where the air feels warmest?" Gusto kong maiyak sa tawa dahil parang laro lang ang lahat. What kind of school has these weird rules? Pero nang makarating ako sa dulo ng map, tumigil ang tawa ko. The building was exactly as described—matayog, luma, pero may kakaibang bigat ang aura. Pagpasok ko, isang grand view ang sumalubong sa akin. The lobby was massive. People in expensive-looking suits were walking everywhere, but they didn't look like office workers—they looked like they were guarding something important. Hinanap ko ang taong pwedeng pagtanungan hanggang sa makita ko ang isang babaeng naka-formal uniform na kulay yellowish-gold. Lumapit ako at ipinakita ang email ko. "Excuse me po, student po ako ng Lumina Academy..." The woman’s eyes widened the moment she saw my name on the screen. She looked shook, her breath hitching for a second. Without a word, she bowed slightly and looked at me. “Ms. Braush," she said. "Please... follow me. We have been waiting for you to arrive." Habang naglalakad kami sa mahabang hallway, ipinaliwanag niya sa akin ang tungkol sa numerong nasa message ko. “Ang numerong iyon ay hindi lang basta numero, Ms. Jaquilyn. It is the number of the door you must enter here in this building. Sa loob ng kwartong iyon, nandoon ang lahat ng pag-aari mo—ang uniform, at ang susi ng kwarto mo Academy. Ang building” Huminto kami sa tapat ng isang asul na pinto. It was unusually small, barely enough for a child to fit through, but when she opened it, there it was—isang itim na bag at isang itim na envelope. It looked mysterious, like it held secrets I wasn't ready for. I reached out and took them, feeling the heavy material against my palms. "Sundan mo ako. Dadalhin na kita sa bus mo ngayon," she said firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Sandali lang po!" I replied, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Kailangan ko munang magpaalam sa Tita ko. I can’t just leave like this without saying anything." "Huwag kang mag-alala. Kami na ang bahala sa parteng iyon," was her only cold response. Agad kong kinuha ang phone ko at tinawagan si Tita habang naglalakad kami. "Tita! Paalis na po ako—hindi ko alam kung saan—" "Jaquilyn, anak, okay lang!" she cut me off, sounding surprisingly calm. "May mga taga-Lumina Academy na rito sa bahay. Nag-explain na sila tungkol sa scholarship at kung bakit kailangan mong umalis agad ngayong araw. Mag-iingat ka roon, ha? Ipagmalaki mo kami!" I let out a huge sigh of relief. At least legal ang pag-alis ko. When we reached the parking lot, I saw a pure white bus. There were a few people my age already inside, their faces unreadable. Sinubukan kong ngumiti sa kanila, but one guy with sharp brown eyes looked at me like he wanted to punch me right then and there. Luh, mananapak ba 'to? I quickly looked away and found a seat. A few moments later, the driver entered the bus. "Fasten your seatbelts," he muttered without looking back. Mabilis akong sumunod, pulling the strap across my chest. But I noticed the others didn't even flinch. Para silang walang narinig, acting like they were too cool for safety rules. The trip started normally for a few minutes... then the bus slowed down for a split second... and then it accelerated. Sobrang bilis. It was so fast I felt like my heart was left behind at the station. I looked out the window and gasped, my breath hitching in my throat. I couldn't see the road anymore. Clouds. Pure white clouds were everywhere, drifting past the glass. And shortly after, I saw the vast blue ocean below us and a massive school that looked like an ancient palace from a fairy tale. "What the—nakalutang tayo?! We're floating!" I panicked, my hands gripping the armrest so hard my knuckles turned white. "Tanga," one of my seatmates whispered, rolling their eyes. Instead of helping me or explaining, they just called me stupid. The bus eventually descended, landing smoothly in front of the grand, golden gates. It felt like we were back in the normal world, but my stomach definitely didn't get the memo. As soon as the doors opened, I stumbled out and started vomiting on the side of the road. Nag-suka lang ako nang nag-suka. "Grabe... what a terrible start," I groaned, wiping my mouth with a trembling hand. My dream of being a Tourism student started with me literally losing my lunch on the pavement. Ang panget naman ng simula ko.
Comic Title: The 5-Year Ping Theme: A story of high latency, hidden processes, and a final successful connection. Part 1: The Legacy Code (School Days) Visual: A split screen. On the left, Class 11, the boy looking at her across a classroom. On the right, The Last Day of School, the boy holding a letter, standing next to her empty chair. Caption: "The script was written years ago, but the environment was never stable enough to hit 'Run'." Dialogue (Boy's thoughts): “I waited for the perfect moment... but the perfect moment was a ghost.” Part 2: The Debugging Phase (College Years) Visual: Panels showing the chaos of 1st and 2nd year. Panel A: The crowded college bus with "Talkative Friends" as blurred background noise. Panel B (The Dare): The boy on the phone, sweating, asking her for "crush advice" while his friends laugh in the background. Panel C (The Fake Photo): The boy showing her a photo of a random girl on his phone. The girl looks interested, but the boy’s heart is shown as a "broken link" icon. Caption: "Sometimes, to protect the system, you have to run a decoy." Part 3: The 3rd Year Transition (The Near Miss) Theme: The broken logic of a missed opportunity. Visual 1: The golden hour light hitting the college main gate. The crowd of students is thinning out. The boy catches up to the girl just as she’s about to exit. Dialogue: * Boy: "Are you heading home right now?" Girl (turning with a smile): "Yeah, just leaving. Are you coming along?" Visual 2: A close-up of the boy’s face—a mix of conflict and regret. In the background, he sees his teammates or the work he has to finish, realizing he can't walk with her today. Dialogue: Boy: "I... I have to finish some work before I head out. I can’t join you today. You go ahead." Girl: "Oh, okay! Don't work too hard. See you!" Visual 3: A wide shot of the boy standing completely still by the gate as her figure shrinks into the distance. The long shadow of the college gate stretches toward him. Dialogue (The Internal Monologue): Boy (whispering): "Go home safely..." Caption: "A request was sent, but the path was blocked by circumstance. Status: 404 - Opportunity Not Found." Part 4: The Execution (The Night Call) Visual: A beautiful night scene. On one side of the page, the boy is walking under a single golden streetlight, phone to his ear. On the other side, the girl is tucked in her room, surrounded by books, smiling. Dialogue (1.5 hours in): * Girl: "So... be honest. Do you even talk to that crush of yours anymore?" Boy (Shaking, close-up on his face): "Actually... I'm talking to her right this second." Part 5: The "Loading" State Visual: A full-page spread. The girl’s face is a mix of shock and a deep, rising blush. Behind her, a faint, glowing "Loading... 99%" bar appears. Dialogue: Girl: "I... I can't process this much data at once." Boy: "I waited five years for the server to respond. I can wait a few more days for you." Final Visual: The boy looking up at the moon in the mountains (foreshadowing your Himachal trip). Closing Caption: "The connection is finally established. Status: Happy." Creative Elements to Include: Color Palette: Use cool blues and greys for the "missed" years, and shift into warm oranges and pinks for the phone call scene. The Symbol: Use the flower you mentioned (the one that bloomed 3 years ago) as a recurring symbol in the corners of the pages. The "God" Motif: In the background of the college scenes, you could have a small, subtle "halo" over the boy whenever she’s looking at him, showing how she admires him.
Tassi Hangbé, la reine rossignol Sœur jumelle du roi Akaba, Tassi Hangbé, un peu oubliée par l’histoire, est la 5ème reine de la dynastie royale d’Abomey. Littéralement le nom hangbé signifie “la voix de la chanson” en langue fon d’Abomey. Depuis son enfance, celle qui n’était encore qu’une princesse du royaume avait pour passion la musique et chantait remarquablement bien. Avec ses belles chansons, elle égayait chaque soir les réunions entre son père et ses frères. L’histoire révèle même que les soirs où elle était absente, le roi et ses frères envoyaient des serviteurs l’appeler car ne pouvant se passer des douces mélodies de la princesse à qui le sobriquet ” hangbé ” fut donné. Cette appellation deviendra plus tard son nom officiel dans tout le royaume. La gouvernance de la reine Hangbé En 1708, alors que le roi Akaba meurt des suites d’une courte maladie pendant la guerre, sa sœur Tassi Hangbé présente à ses côtés décide de de garder le secret de sa mort pour ne pas démoraliser les troupes. Déguisée en son frère, elle prend le commandement de l’armée et mène les combats jusqu’à la victoire finale à Lissèzoun, où elle vainc le royaume de Wémè. À son retour à Abomey, le fils d’Akaba étant encore trop jeune pour régner, c’est Hangbé qui prend les rênes du royaume du Danxomè. Bien qu’aucune cérémonie officielle n’ait eu lieu, elle portait tous les symboles du pouvoir royal : les sandales sacrées (saloubata), le grand pagne décoré (avotita), la récade (mankpo). Reconnue et respectée comme souveraine, elle était toujours accompagnée du siège et du parasol royal. Elle recevait de tous le respect dû à son rang mais les réalités phallocratiques du royaume n’ont pas tardé à la rattraper. Le règne d’une femme dérangeait dans un contexte fortement dominé par les hommes. Au palais comme dans le reste du royaume, certains hommes manifestaient ouvertement leur indignation à l’idée de laisser une femme sur le trône de Houégbadja. Subissant complots et tensions familiales, qui lui coûtent notamment l’annulation de son mariage et la perte de deux fils, Hangbè finit par céder le pouvoir à son frère Dossou, intronisé en 1711 sous le nom d’Agadja. Malgré son règne très court, Tassi Hangbé reste une figure majeure de l’histoire du Danxomè. Proche de son peuple, attachée à la religion et aux arts, elle a surtout marqué son époque en mettant en valeur le rôle des femmes, notamment par la création du corps des Amazones, un héritage restructuré et renforcé par la suite plus tard par le roi Ghézo. Le combat féministe de la mère des amazones Selon Damien Mariano Agliti, guide à l’Office de tourisme de la région d’Abomey, « Tassi Hangbé a pris cette initiative pour donner une véritable place aux femmes au sein du royaume ». Son influence ne s’est pas arrêtée à ses quatre années de règne. Même après avoir quitté le trône, Nan Hangbé est restée une haute dignitaire respectée, intervenant activement dans les affaires du royaume — notamment lorsqu’elle s’opposa à son frère qui refusa de retourner le pouvoir au fils d’Akaba une fois celui-ci en âge de régner.Elle a aussi joué un rôle clé dans la reconnaissance des femmes dignitaires, appelées Tassi, facilement identifiables grâce à leurs pagnes souvent posés sur la tête. Aujourd’hui encore, à Abomey, une femme perpétue la tradition de la reine guerrière : elle occupe le trône de Tassi Hangbé, dirige les cultes annuels et veille sur les affaires de la collectivité Hangbé
Panel 1 (Full-width splash, establishing shot) Wide exterior view of Blackspire Keep at night, snow falling gently. A lone rider (Lady Seraphine in dark cloak) approaches the gates on horseback. Caption (top): "Midnight. The eve of his nameday." SFX: clip-clop… clip-clop… Panel 2 (Medium shot) Seraphine dismounts in the courtyard. Servants scatter in fear at her expression—eyes narrowed, lips pressed thin. Close-up inset on her face: subtle disgust already flickering. Thought bubble (small): …I only wished to surprise him. Panel 3 (Tall vertical panel) Seraphine strides down a torch-lit corridor, riding crop dangling loosely. Her boots echo. Background: shadows stretch long. SFX: thud… thud… thud… Panel 4 (Wide panel, door POV) The heavy solar door creaks open. Warm candlelight pours out. Foreground: Seraphine's silhouette in the doorway, cloak billowing slightly. Inside: chaotic bed scene just visible—bare limbs, tangled sheets, laughter frozen mid-breath. Panel 5 (Large panel, reveal) Full interior shot of the decadent bedroom: massive four-poster bed, candles guttering, furs and silks strewn everywhere. Center: Fat Lord Fortinbras sprawled naked, belly shining with sweat, surrounded by four equally naked noblewomen (two mother-daughter pairs: Mirene & Celine Varnholt; Elira & Lyssia Drayce). They freeze, eyes wide in horror. Under the bed: two more half-hidden girls in shifts, peeking out in terror. SFX: gasp! Panel 6 (Close-up on Seraphine) Tight on her face—eyes half-lidded, upper lip curled in revulsion. No shout. Just quiet, visceral disgust. A single bead of sweat rolls down her temple (not from anger—from sheer distaste). Thought bubble: …This… is what my husband chooses. Panel 7 (Medium group shot) The women scramble in panic: sheets tear, bare feet slap stone, arms cover themselves. Mirene clutches fabric; Celine bolts; Elira drags her daughter. The two under-bed girls crawl out, red-faced, fleeing past Seraphine like rats. Background: Fortinbras wheezes, trying to sit up, belly jiggling pathetically. Panel 8 (Over-the-shoulder from Seraphine) She stands motionless. View past her shoulder: the fleeing women disappear down the hall. Fortinbras in foreground, small and ridiculous on the ruined bed, mouth open in excuse. His speech bubble (stammering): "S-Seraphine… my love… this is—" Panel 9 (Extreme close-up on Seraphine) Her eyes only—cold, contemptuous pupils reflecting candle flames. No dialogue. Just a slow, deliberate blink of disgust. SFX: soft … Panel 10 (Medium shot) Seraphine steps forward one pace. She reaches out slowly and plucks a long auburn hair (Mirene's) from his damp chest. Holds it up between thumb and forefinger like something diseased. Her expression: lip curled further, nostrils slightly flared. Panel 11 (Tight two-shot) Close on Fortinbras's face—sweat pouring, small eyes darting, pleading. Inset panel (small): Seraphine's mouth, corners turned down in pure revulsion. Her dialogue (quiet, flat): "You are… disgusting." Panel 12 (Full-page splash, final blow) Seraphine turns her back and walks out, cloak swirling. The door begins to close behind her. Foreground: Fortinbras alone on the wrecked bed, naked, small, surrounded by cooling candles and the stench of his own excess. His face: crumpled in shame. Background fades to black around the edges. Caption (bottom, small text): She feels no fury. Only nausea. SFX: click (door shutting) (End scene.)
The neon sign above the trailer buzzed with the irritable hum of a dying insect. It read Ground support, thought the 'U' in ground was flickering out, Leaving the company to announce itself as Grond Support. It fit the aesthetic of the surrounding yard, which was a graveyard of rust excavators, Coils of orange conduit and piles of gravel that looked like forgotten burial mounds. Alex Barry stood at the Chain-link gate, the dust of three state lines coating his black cowboy boots. He was twenty-one, but the shadows under his eyes belonged to a man twice his age. He ran a hand through his short, cropped black hair, wincing as his shirt sleeve rode up. The ink on his forearm, a jagged tribal design he'd gotten in a basement parlor in New Mexico. Hidden again as he yanked the fabric down. He wasn't dealing today, He wasn't running packages. He was trying to vanish and the best place to disappear was beneath the earth. He pushed open the door to the office trailer. The air conditioning hit him like a physical blow, smelling of stale coffee and toner. “We aren’t buying whatever your selling, kid.” a voice rasped from behind a desk that looked more like a barricade of paperwork. Shane, the owner sat there like a toad on a lily pad. Squeezed into a polo shirt so tight and pristine white that it looked like it had been painted onto his soft, round torso. He didn't look up from his spreadsheet, his pen tapping a frantic rhythm. “I'm not selling,” Alex said his voice rough from days of silence. “I'm looking for work. Sign out front says you need laborers.” Shane finally looked up his eyes narrowing as they swept over Alex. He took in the dust, the nervous energy the way Alex stood with his weight on his back foot, ready to bolt. “I need laborers, Not liabilities. You got a rap sheet? You look like you got a rap sheet. I don't pay for insurance risks.” Alex clenched his jaw. “I work hard. I don't ask questions. That's my resume.” Shane waved his hand. “Get lost,” Returning to his papers. “Go peddle your drama somewhere else. This is a respectable establishment. Alex turned to leave, his hand gripping the doorknob. It was the same old story. The world saw the grim on him and assumed he was trash. He was about to step back out into the scorching heat when the light in the doorway was suddenly eclipsed. A mountain of a man blocked the exit. This was steel At forty-four, he was a wall of muscle and scar tissue, wearing biker boots that clunked heavily against the cheap linoleum. He had to duck to enter the trailer, his presence immediately sucking the oxygen out of the room. He smelled of diesel and wet earth. Steel looked down at Alex. It wasn't a glare, It was an inspection. He looked at Alex's face, then down to the dusty cowboy boots. “Nice boots,” Steel rumbled. His voice sounded like gravel tumbling inside a cement mixer. Alex didn't flinch “They walk fine.” Steel smirked, a terrifying expression that somehow reached his eyes, He looked past Alex to the man at the desk. “Hire him, Shane.” Shane sputtered, his face turning a shade of indignity pink. “Steel, look at him! Hes a stray. Probably steal the copper wire first chance he gets.” Steel steps closer to the desk. “Kid wears boots like that, he ain't running from work,” Steel said just as another figure steps inside. If steel was a mountain, Mathew was the sapling growing on the cliff edge. The Nineteen Year old squeezed past Steel. Carrying a hydraulic pump over his shoulder with effortless, wiry strength. Long blond hair flowed out from under a hardhat that had been modified with a wide brim, making it like a plastic Stetson
The neon sign above the trailer buzzed with the irritable hum of a dying insect. It read Ground support, thought the 'U' in ground was flickering out, Leaving the company to announce itself as Grond Support. It fit the aesthetic of the surrounding yard, which was a graveyard of rust excavators, Coils of orange conduit and piles of gravel that looked like forgotten burial mounds. Alex Barry stood at the Chain-link gate, the dust of three state lines coating his black cowboy boots. He was twenty-one, but the shadows under his eyes belonged to a man twice his age. He ran a hand through his short, cropped black hair, wincing as his shirt sleeve rode up. The ink on his forearm, a jagged tribal design he'd gotten in a basement parlor in New Mexico. Hidden again as he yanked the fabric down. He wasn't dealing today, He wasn't running packages. He was trying to vanish and the best place to disappear was beneath the earth. He pushed open the door to the office trailer. The air conditioning hit him like a physical blow, smelling of stale coffee and toner. “We aren’t buying whatever your selling, kid.” a voice rasped from behind a desk that looked more like a barricade of paperwork. Shane, the owner sat there like a toad on a lily pad. Squeezed into a polo shirt so tight and pristine white that it looked like it had been painted onto his soft, round torso. He didn't look up from his spreadsheet, his pen tapping a frantic rhythm. “I'm not selling,” Alex said his voice rough from days of silence. “I'm looking for work. Sign out front says you need laborers.” Shane finally looked up his eyes narrowing as they swept over Alex. He took in the dust, the nervous energy the way Alex stood with his weight on his back foot, ready to bolt. “I need laborers, Not liabilities. You got a rap sheet? You look like you got a rap sheet. I don't pay for insurance risks.” Alex clenched his jaw. “I work hard. I don't ask questions. That's my resume.” Shane waved his hand. “Get lost,” Returning to his papers. “Go peddle your drama somewhere else. This is a respectable establishment. Alex turned to leave, his hand gripping the doorknob. It was the same old story. The world saw the grim on him and assumed he was trash. He was about to step back out into the scorching heat when the light in the doorway was suddenly eclipsed. A mountain of a man blocked the exit. This was steel At forty-four, he was a wall of muscle and scar tissue, wearing biker boots that clunked heavily against the cheap linoleum. He had to duck to enter the trailer, his presence immediately sucking the oxygen out of the room. He smelled of diesel and wet earth. Steel looked down at Alex. It wasn't a glare, It was an inspection. He looked at Alex's face, then down to the dusty cowboy boots. “Nice boots,” Steel rumbled. His voice sounded like gravel tumbling inside a cement mixer. Alex didn't flinch “They walk fine.” Steel smirked, a terrifying expression that somehow reached his eyes, He looked past Alex to the man at the desk. “Hire him, Shane.” Shane sputtered, his face turning a shade of indignity pink. “Steel, look at him! Hes a stray. Probably steal the copper wire first chance he gets.” Steel steps closer to the desk. “Kid wears boots like that, he ain't running from work,” Steel said just as another figure steps inside. If steel was a mountain, Mathew was the sapling growing on the cliff edge. The Nineteen Year old squeezed past Steel. Carrying a hydraulic pump over his shoulder with effortless, wiry strength. Long blond hair flowed out from under a hardhat that had been modified with a wide brim, making it like a plastic Stetson. “Morning, Shane! Morning, Steel!” Mathew chirped
The neon sign above the trailer buzzed with the irritable hum of a dying insect. It read Ground support, thought the 'U' in ground was flickering out, Leaving the company to announce itself as Grond Support. It fit the aesthetic of the surrounding yard, which was a graveyard of rust excavators, Coils of orange conduit and piles of gravel that looked like forgotten burial mounds. Alex Barry stood at the Chain-link gate, the dust of three state lines coating his black cowboy boots. He was twenty-one, but the shadows under his eyes belonged to a man twice his age. He ran a hand through his short, cropped black hair, wincing as his shirt sleeve rode up. The ink on his forearm, a jagged tribal design he'd gotten in a basement parlor in New Mexico. Hidden again as he yanked the fabric down. He wasn't dealing today, He wasn't running packages. He was trying to vanish and the best place to disappear was beneath the earth. He pushed open the door to the office trailer. The air conditioning hit him like a physical blow, smelling of stale coffee and toner. “We aren’t buying whatever your selling, kid.” a voice rasped from behind a desk that looked more like a barricade of paperwork. Shane, the owner sat there like a toad on a lily pad. Squeezed into a polo shirt so tight and pristine white that it looked like it had been painted onto his soft, round torso. He didn't look up from his spreadsheet, his pen tapping a frantic rhythm. “I'm not selling,” Alex said his voice rough from days of silence. “I'm looking for work. Sign out front says you need laborers.” Shane finally looked up his eyes narrowing as they swept over Alex. He took in the dust, the nervous energy the way Alex stood with his weight on his back foot, ready to bolt. “I need laborers, Not liabilities. You got a rap sheet? You look like you got a rap sheet. I don't pay for insurance risks.” Alex clenched his jaw. “I work hard. I don't ask questions. That's my resume.” Shane waved his hand. “Get lost,” Returning to his papers. “Go peddle your drama somewhere else. This is a respectable establishment. Alex turned to leave, his hand gripping the doorknob. It was the same old story. The world saw the grim on him and assumed he was trash. He was about to step back out into the scorching heat when the light in the doorway was suddenly eclipsed. A mountain of a man blocked the exit. This was steel At forty-four, he was a wall of muscle and scar tissue, wearing biker boots that clunked heavily against the cheap linoleum. He had to duck to enter the trailer, his presence immediately sucking the oxygen out of the room. He smelled of diesel and wet earth. Steel looked down at Alex. It wasn't a glare, It was an inspection. He looked at Alex's face, then down to the dusty cowboy boots. “Nice boots,” Steel rumbled. His voice sounded like gravel tumbling inside a cement mixer. Alex didn't flinch “They walk fine.” Steel smirked, a terrifying expression that somehow reached his eyes, He looked past Alex to the man at the desk. “Hire him, Shane.” Shane sputtered, his face turning a shade of indignity pink. “Steel, look at him! Hes a stray. Probably steal the copper wire first chance he gets.” Steel steps closer to the desk. “Kid wears boots like that, he ain't running from work,” Steel said just as another figure steps inside. If steel was a mountain, Mathew was the sapling growing on the cliff edge. The Nineteen Year old squeezed past Steel. Carrying a hydraulic pump over his shoulder with effortless, wiry strength. Long blond hair flowed out from under a hardhat that had been modified with a wide brim, making it like a plastic Stetson. “Morning, Shane! Morning, Steel!” Mathew chirped
I want to tell a story that was happening a anime The anime starting with a boy have the miserable Have the nice and peaceful and Innocent Boy Having a brother He was at 5th class he was just A Chubby boy Playing very joyful And suddenly a pandemic come Corona An earth at the time he was 7th class He was playing with his friends he has a crush She was very beautiful he was seeing her One day She was left From his Street Two summer other foreign country There are both friends they played a lot Have resumed a lot Just memories are left out Then after two years After the Corona went off in 2021 The Boy Go to the School He was become somewhat extrovert Somewhat Introvert And he was very joyful he was playing with his friends joking in the class But he was very innocent Suddenly A new girl Come to his class when he was in 9th When he see her He gets the memories His fast crush When he was in 7th class She Was look like same Exactly like And she was also very friendly with all my members she was the first girl who talk with him Very frequently Even though he was not good at studies She come out of the class for studying Has a private space But he was coming out From class in the form of punishment But she Treated him No other guy in the class But a sudden drama comes out As the people As The new girl And Him as Secret lovers Because of that Both him and the new girl Feel uncomfort The rumour spread All over the class and other classes also That That he Love that new girl and The new girl are Teasing her With The boy name Same as happened to the boy Because of The new girl Friends She called The Boy As Brother but He has Feelings In her Because she was exactly Look like His 7th class Crush Then He’s Heart Very heavy Even though he To avoid Disturbances to Called her sister Then Come to him after the school Over She apologises That because of All my friends and rumour I call you As brother But he was not able to accept He was starting avoiding her After some days After summer holidays He was going to 10 th Class He was on Anger On the 9th class experience He was go to the other section ,Action A to b But the new girl Not come to the college three months After three months She was arrived from nowhere She was Cut her hair About her shoulder level In that time He was in the section B she was in section a As it was only summer holidays after Temporary classes The 10th the senior students already there they have to attend exam These are the 9th class students coming after summer for Summer classes In the summer classes He was Hindi Section B End sudden dramas going on because of he was angry on her he was not talk to her She was also avoided him But some other day She was talking with the other guy Who was not good guy She already have the ex gf End a spoiled kid On a fine day He saw Her The new girl and The toxic guy At the upstairs to the top of the roof And after 30 minutes they come down He was argued with the toxic guy And shouted on Toxic guy But he gave the false Explanation A lie That they were Friends Who was chatting In past three months Before she coming to the School That Give the gift To her Nothing happened at the top I’m then he Blindly trusted the toxic guy But few days after One of the senior Who was friendly with Him Telling that did you know Do you want a kiss But the he And he said What are you talking. Then the senior Show and pointing a girl Who was none other than The new girl Go to her she will give . He was argued with sr Then the Sr Was a close person to him Telling you might not be wrong I’m not telling that you’re wrong but I show you I go to her and ask her You have to listen From beside the door Then the senior go Directly To the new girl Then she replied yes, that she was kissed the Toxic guy And she was telling that she was enjoyed that then Broke up. But the innocent he was Having a positive opinion On the new girl But He was not able to take that She was not her When he was first meet her Then she was trying to talk with him He avoided her , Then the real 10th class was started He was in The B section After some time She was only talking Him in break hours That you have to come to section a Permanently And some of his friends from section a Also wanted to Him To come to the Section a He has a wonderful memories The 10th class was over But he want to talk end of the day with her In the farewell He straightly directly go to Her To tell what he feels But He does not have guts That he Think What happen In this summer classes About the kiss Between new girl and to Toxic guy. And he changes The topic 2 a funny topic Showing some photo Her Telling so funny And telling her your very beautiful in this Dress and comeback, She does not even know What was true About he’s feelings
Stage 1: The Core Idea Logline: (Describe the story in one single, gripping sentence.) Example: A cowardly boy discovers a magical paintbrush that brings anything he draws to life, but only if he learns to draw with confidence. Central Theme/Question: (What is the "heart" of the story or the question you are exploring?) Examples: Is talent born or made? What are you willing to sacrifice for your dreams? The definition of true justice. Stage 2: Character Conception The Protagonist (MC): Name: External Goal: (What do they want that everyone can see?) Internal Need: (What emotional growth must they undergo to be happy, though they don't know it yet?) Fatal Flaw: (The character defect that gets in their own way.) "The Ordinary Life": (Describe their life before the story begins.) The Antagonist/Rival: Name: External Goal: (Their goal must clash directly with the protagonist’s.) Philosophy: (Why are they right in their own eyes?) Connection: (Why this villain for this hero?) Stage 3: The World Building Setting: (Time period, location, rules, and aesthetic. Urban fantasy, sci-fi cyberpunk, historical feudal?) The Magic/Power System (if applicable): Rules: (What is possible?) Limitations & Cost: (What is impossible? What happens if you use too much power? Limitations make power systems interesting.) Stage 4: Structure (The Arc) The Inciting Incident: (The event that shatters the protagonist’s ordinary life and pulls them into the conflict.) The Journey (Rising Action): (The challenges, new allies, and rivals they meet. They fail and learn.) The Low Point: (The protagonist loses everything and must confront their internal need.) The Climax: (The final showdown where the protagonist uses their newfound strength to face the ultimate challenge.) The Resolution: (The new normalcy.) Four Example Manga Story Ideas Use these as inspiration, or build your own from the prompts within. Idea #1: Supernatural Mystery / Action (Shonen-Style) Logline: To save his sick sister, a cautious student contracts with the demon of forgotten names, gaining powers tied to the things he can remember to say. Genre: Action, Dark Fantasy, Supernatural. Central Theme: The value of memories and what defines an identity. Magic System: Contract Memory. Powers are strong only when the user remembers the specific name or incantation. Forget the name, and the power vanishes. Conflict: He must hunt other demons for artifacts that can cure his sister, but the more he hunts, the more people and history are erased from the world. Idea #2: Psychological / Thriller (Seinen-Style) Logline: An expert archivist finds a hidden section in the world's oldest library: the "Future Files"—detailed biographies of people that haven't been born yet. Genre: Psychological, Thriller, Science-Fiction. Central Theme: Determinism vs. Free Will. Can we change the future if we know it? Conflict: The protagonist starts subtly manipulating events to prevent disasters (like a benevolent "Death Note"), only to discover that the Future Files are actively adapting and predicting his interventions, escalating the stakes. Idea #3: Slice-of-Life / Drama (Josei/Seinen-Style) Logline: A burnt-out urban planner moves back to her quiet coastal hometown and discovers a unique "Café of Lost Recipes," where she helps people recreate meals that connected them to loved ones they've lost. Genre: Slice-of-Life, Comfort, Food/Cooking. Central Theme: Grief, reconnection, and finding joy in small moments. Conflict: Her internal battle against feeling like a "failure" for leaving the city. The conflict comes from the emotionally complex requests—like a daughter asking for the simple rice ball her abusive father once made her. Idea #4: High-Stakes Sport / Competitive (Shonen/Shojo-Style) Logline: A naturally talented but unmotivated pianist must partner with a classical prodigy who plays with flawless technicality but no emotion to win a national ensemble competition and keep his family’s music school from closing. Genre: Sports (Music), Drama, Competitive. Central Theme: Technical mastery vs. emotional expression; finding synergy with a rival. Conflict: The duo's conflicting philosophies clash at every practice. They must learn not just how to play "together," but how to breathe and feel as one musical entity to win.