Shadow Magic Manga

A teenage boy walking on a city street, car approaching fast, shocked expression, motion blur, dramatic manga style, black & white, high tension, cinematic angle” Teen floating in darkness surrounded by swirling light, ethereal energy around him, confused expression, thought bubble: ‘Where… am I?’ manga style, black & white, mystical aura” Baby boy reborn in luxurious noble family chamber, wrapped in blanket, soft expression, parents holding him proudly, elders watching in awe, manga style, black & white, light beams from ceiling” “Close-up of baby’s face, curious wide eyes, thought bubble: ‘I… I’m small? Where am I?’ manga style, black & white, cute mischievous expression” Golden aura shining around baby’s chest and forehead, light rays from above, soft glowing effect, elders and parents amazed, manga style, black & white, cinematic lighting, divine atmosphere” Mother smiles holding baby, father stands proudly, elders whispering in background, manga style, black & white, soft shading, dialogue bubble: ‘A rare child, blessed by heaven’” Close-up of baby’s tiny smirk, mischievous eyes, looking at parents and elders, manga style, black & white, subtle humorous expression, thought bubble: ‘Heh… I wonder what fun I can have here’” Wide shot of noble chamber, sunlight streaming through windows, baby in crib, parents and elders around, soft shadows, manga style, black & white, cinematic composition” Glowing small orb or artifact on shelf near baby, faint magical aura, baby reaching toward it curiously, manga style, black & white, dynamic angle” Close-up of elder faces, surprised and worried, manga style, black & white, subtle dramatic shading, thought bubble: ‘This child… is unusual’” Tiny Qi energy pulse radiates from baby as he touches artifact, floating papers and scrolls in room, manga style, black & white, expressive energy lines, dynamic panel Wide exterior shot of noble manor, morning sunlight, heavenly rays shining down on baby chamber, soft clouds, manga style, black & white, epic cinematic feel, caption: ‘Thus begins the Mischief Heir’s story’”
كيدو هو شاب عادي يعيش حياة فاشلة ومليئة بالإحباط، يشعر أنه غير مهم ولا يملك أي هدف. في يوم غامض، ينتقل فجأة إلى عالم آخر قاسٍ تحكمه قوانين القوة والرتب. في هذا العالم، لا يُعامل كبطل مختار، بل كشخص ضعيف في أدنى طبقة، مهدد بالموت في أي لحظة. مع مرور الوقت، يكتشف كيدو أنه يمتلك قدرة خفية لا يراها الآخرون — نظام غامض يمنحه فرصًا للتطور كلما واجه خطرًا حقيقيًا أو اقترب من الموت. بينما يصعد تدريجيًا بين طبقات القوة، يبدأ في كشف أسرار هذا العالم، ويكتشف أن نقله لم يكن صدفة، بل جزء من مخطط أكبر مرتبط بكيان مجهول يراقبه منذ البداية. القصة تركز على تطور كيدو النفسي قبل قوته الجسدية، وصراعه بين رغبته في البقاء وخوفه من أن يصبح وحشًا مثل هذا العالم
Blair is a young warrior in his mid 20s with a short beard and a short mustache. He has short brown hair and is 5'7. Lilith is the demon of lust, crimson skin with horns, demonic wings and sharp claws. Lilith has glowing crimson eyes. The story continues as Blair kneels before Lilith who is now twice his height. She summons a mirror in front of them both as she stands behind Blair, who can see their height difference. She proceeds to taunt him, reminding him that she owns him now. Lilith proceeds to lift up one leg and place her foot on top of Blair's head as they stand in front of the mirror, commanding him to kneel and reflect on my status as a man which Blair does.
Miu have long hair black and white Levi have short hair . The door opened and I looked in the mirror, so I knew who was standing behind me. "Hello Levi, it's been a long time, maybe 1000 years." I beep quietly. "Hello Mia." He said it for the first time, so calmly. "When did you remember your previous life?" He asks and I'm already smiling. "Five years ago Levi." He grits his teeth. "I knew you would find me and I waited for you to do it. It was fate." I stand up and walk over to him. We look into each other's eyes. "In the diary you left me, none of it made sense. You just died, why? Mia, why the hell." A tear falls from my eye. "Because if you died, I would lose the reason to live. I love you Levi. I never stopped. Our souls were connected when we first met. Since you are bound to me, you are not a Ymir subject." I say and he straightens up. "What did you say?" His eyes widen in surprise. "Let's move somewhere else please I don't want to talk about this here." He nods and grabs my hand. "I promise I won't die again. Neither will you. We will be together." He squeezes my hand even tighter.
Xochi, 19 and Mexican-American, gets turned into the Angel of Independence, a seminude and golden statue located in Mexico City. Xochi has dark brown short hair with a bang nearly covering her right eye and has light green eyes. Xochi is seminude and has golden wings along with a laurel wreath in the right hand and a broken chain with the left with the original pose.
Character 1 turns to character 2, looking solemn. Character 1: "I failed you Arctos, my son." Character 2: (Trembling) "No Papa! You didn't." Thunder rumbles overhead. Character 1: "I did not deal with Marius when I should have. Now Maltus burns..." The ancient city is hit again and again by lighting.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching. Make the heroine have white hair
Black Verse:-A world of darkness and demons "Dark World", a palace surrounded by mountains "Ryomen palace", where demon lord of destruction had ruled.he is planning to destroy Earth.Our heroes "Namoshi" (main character) and his brother Antaro have to leave Earth to stop him.Namoshi has the power of lightning and thunder and his brother Antaro have power of fire and lava.they say some verses to get their powers and abilities.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching.
A 14 year old boy named Takeshi Hanata gets his sword. His sword gets taken over by a demon and he must fight the demon to get it out of his sword.
Panel Type Extra-wide cinematic panel (double-page spread feeling) Camera High-angle camera, positioned near the ceiling Looking downward at a slight diagonal tilt Emphasizes scale, complexity, and secrecy Characters appear small compared to the environment 🧪 Environment – Underground Laboratory (Tokyo 2030) A large underground laboratory hidden deep beneath the city, industrial and functional rather than clean or futuristic-glossy. Central Area A large workstation hub in the middle Multiple computer terminals with stacked screens (2025-level tech, not holograms) Screens show: Code Brain scan data System diagnostics Surveillance-style feeds Thick cables snake across the floor, connecting systems Left Side – Power & Network Systems Inspired by your server rack reference: Tall server towers lining the wall Blinking indicator lights Heavy power conduits running along walls and floor Backup batteries, transformers, exposed cabling Feels noisy and energy-dense, like the lab must stay powered at all costs Right Side – Brain Scanner Room Inspired by the brain scanner chamber: A sealed scanning pod or chair inside a recessed alcove Mechanical armature above it with a focused light Thick padding, restraint-like elements (medical, not violent) Glass or transparent barrier partially enclosing it Clearly the most unsettling object in the room Rear / Side Areas – Planning & Research Inspired by the planning boards: One or two mobile whiteboards Covered with: Maps Red and blue marker lines Handwritten notes Sticky notes Diagrams and timelines Papers taped unevenly Suggest long-term planning and obsession 👥 Characters (All Three Present) Positioning They stand together but not unified: Scientist near the central workstation Slightly forward, familiar with the space Calm, focused posture Suited Woman a step behind Arms crossed or rigid stance Body language skeptical and tense Visibly evaluating the lab Younger Woman slightly apart Curious, relaxed Looking around rather than at the others They are small compared to the lab, reinforcing how big and serious this place is. 🎨 Art Style Black-and-white manga illustration Heavy use of screentone for depth Strong industrial textures Clean but dense linework No exaggerated sci-fi glow Realistic near-future technology 🎭 Mood Overwhelming scale. Hidden knowledge. A place built over years for something dangerous and important. 🚫 Negative Prompt No chibi style, no fantasy magic, no bright cyberpunk neon, no known characters, no cartoon proportions, no text bubbles.
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.
In an era where six Supremes mark the absolute ceiling of existence, the world moves under a quiet, grinding tension: five Supremes stand revealed, anchoring nations, deterring wars, and defining the limits of power, while the sixth vanished long ago without death, omen, or echo, leaving behind not silence but a sense of deliberate containment that only beings at that level can feel; kingdoms ring their borders with alliances and naval forces, especially along the eastern ocean where island chains hide ancient mana scars, academies promote Gifted through rigid ranks obsessed with combat metrics and measurable mana, blind to the truth that Supremacy is not earned but survived, and above it all walks the MC, a Supreme who abandoned the system itself after realizing it was not a ladder but a cage, designed after the disappearance to prevent another from breaking reality the way the missing one nearly did; as nations posture, research forbidden spells, and quietly fear escalation, the MC senses what others refuse to name, that the missing Supreme did not fall or transcend but uncovered something beyond Supremacy and chose exile or imprisonment to stop it from cascading, making the current balance an illusion sustained by fear and ignorance, and as cracks spread through mana laws, island anomalies stir, and Supreme senses begin to distort, the story moves toward an inevitable convergence where the MC, the vanished Supreme, and the system meant to bind them are forced into collision, deciding whether the world remains stable, ascends, or shatters under the weight of truths it was never meant to hold.
A 18 year old Japanese woman named Mika, who gets turned into the Venus de Milo. She has a short black hair with a bang covering her left eye and with a heart necklace and has grey eyes. She's seminude and armless after the petrification. She's the copy of the Venus de Milo in a museum.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching.
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching.
Персонаж с картинки ремонтуючи електронні компоненти відкриває портал у інший вимір. Це світ Аніме
A wide establishing shot in manga style (black and white). A modern magical academy campus seen from a distance. The building has futuristic architecture mixed with fantasy elements, large glass structures, clean geometric design, and subtle magical symbols integrated into the walls. The scene feels serious and cinematic. The sky is cloudy and dramatic, creating a mysterious atmosphere. Small silhouettes of students can be seen walking in the distance to show scale. Drawn in simple manga line art, clean ink lines, minimal shading, not overly detailed, easy-to-read composition. Camera angle: wide shot from slightly below, making the academy look powerful and important. Mood: calm, mysterious, cinematic opening scene.
A black and white manga panel. A 19-year-old young man (Marshal) with wavy light-toned hair and a padded doublet stands in a freezing, pitch-black stone cellar, looking nervous. From the deep shadows steps out another 19-year-old man (Morgan) with messy solid black hair and pitch-black eyes. Morgan is holding a dusty antique wine bottle and is laughing uncontrollably, a tear in his eye. Dramatic lighting, high contrast ink, seinen manga style, dark fantasy. Action manga panel. Intense motion lines. A heavy, rotting medieval wooden door violently explodes outward into hundreds of splinters. Through the flying wood debris and dust, a massive, terrifying medieval knight in seamless, heavy dark plate armor barges into the room. In the foreground, the two young men drop the wine bottle in shock. Dynamic composition, screentones, impact effect, seinen manga style. Fast-paced action manga panel. Two young men (one with wavy light hair, one with messy black hair) are sprinting desperately down a narrow, damp stone corridor. They are looking back over their shoulders in panic. Heavy speed lines (manga effect) to emphasize their fast running. Dramatic shading, claustrophobic atmosphere, highly detailed ink drawing, dark fantasy. A tense manga panel. Blocking a stone archway is a solid wall of five towering medieval knights standing shoulder-to-shoulder. They wear identical, menacing heavy steel plate armor with closed visors. The knight in the center aggressively draws a long broadsword. In the foreground, the young man with light wavy hair drops to his knees in surrender, putting his hands up. Cold, oppressive atmosphere, detailed armor rendering, seinen manga style. A dramatic manga panel. An older, burly medieval army captain (Dant) with a weathered face, graying beard, and battered armor runs into the scene, panting heavily. He raises his left hand authoritatively (the hand is missing two fingers). The heavily armored knights in the background lower their swords in submission. The captain looks down with a disappointed expression. Expressive ink shading, dark fantasy manga style. Black and white Japanese manga style, seinen manga, dark fantasy, highly detailed ink drawing, dramatic shading, screentones, sharp line art, cinematic angle --ar 16:9
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.”
Title: Revy’s Black Market Genre: Cyberpunk, Tech-Noir, Dystopian, Underground Economy Tone: Dark, intelligent, rebellious, futuristic Style: High-contrast black & white manga with neon cyberpunk accents, glitch effects, holographic UI overlays WORLD SETTING The story takes place in Vybz Land, a massive futuristic megacity where technology evolves daily, but access to innovation is controlled by powerful corporations and elites. In this world, early access equals power, and being late means being left behind forever. The city is filled with: Neon skyscrapers Surveillance drones Digital billboards Crowded lower districts where people struggle to keep up with the future Hidden beneath this system is an underground network known only as Revy’s Black Market (RBM). THE BLACK MARKET (RBM) RBM is not a physical place — it is a digital gateway. Access is earned, not sold. RBM offers: Early access to emerging technology Secret deals before public release Presales and limited drops AI tools, mobility tech, robotics, and Web3 platforms RBM doesn’t steal technology — it redistributes access and timing. MAIN CHARACTER — REVY Revy is the mysterious overseer of RBM. Appearance: Androgynous cyberpunk figure Long dark coat with glowing circuit patterns One eye enhanced with a digital interface Calm expression, always observing Personality: Highly intelligent Emotionally controlled Speaks in short, powerful lines Never explains everything Revy believes the future should reward curiosity, not wealth. STORY SUMMARY CHAPTER 1 — Access Denied A young citizen in Vybz Land watches others advance while he is left behind by expensive technology. He sees advertisements for innovation he cannot afford. On a dark alley wall, a glowing symbol appears: “The future isn’t sold. It’s accessed.” CHAPTER 2 — The Gate The symbol leads to RBM. A digital interface appears asking for identity verification. When access is granted, Revy appears as a hologram. Revy says: “You don’t buy the future. You arrive before it’s expensive.” CHAPTER 3 — Deals Are Power Users of RBM begin gaining advantages: Smarter tools Faster mobility Better opportunities Corporations notice something is wrong. Someone is disrupting their control. CHAPTER 4 — The Underground Rises RBM grows. More people gain access. The elite begin hunting the source. Revy watches from the shadows and says: “We don’t break systems. We expose their timing.” CORE THEMES Access vs privilege Technology as power Freedom through information The underground economy of the future FINAL MESSAGE RBM is not a store. It is a gateway. Tagline for final page: “Welcome to Revy’s Black Market — where the future is traded early.”
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.
PAGE 1 — "The Awakening Ceremony" Panel 1 (Wide establishing shot — double spread feel) Bird's eye view of the capital city. Banners and flags wave from every rooftop. Streets packed with celebrating citizens. Musicians mid-performance. The grand palace looms in the background, lit by torchlight. CAPTION: "The capital was alive with celebration." Panel 2 (Interior — grand hall, wide shot) Nobles, warriors, and citizens fill an enormous hall. Marble columns. Torches burning. At the center, five ancient robed figures — the Five Elders — stand in a ceremonial circle, heads bowed in prayer. CAPTION: "The Five Elders prepared to perform the sacred ritual — to awaken the Throne Tattoo."
Centuries ago, an extraterrestrial menace known as the Demon God rampaged to claim the Earth, until the True Dragons and their Dragonkin warriors sealed him and his Hellspawn. Centuries later, the seal has been weakened, and Hellspawn are invading the city of Shinjuku. Kohryu, a shinobi exorcist descended from the Dragonkin, infiltrates the demonified city to reclaim the stolen Devil's Eye diamond before it can be used to break the seal.
une jeune gacon rentre de l'école sous la pluie et découvre un cube noir qui flotte puis après un flache rouge, son bras droit est devenu noir avec le signe d'yeux rouge sur la paume de la mains. et des scientifique cherche a récupéré ce cube donc le garçon
In a world where ancient warrior clans sealed away nine demonic realms centuries ago, a forbidden prophecy resurfaces: “When the Ninth Realm opens, only the Unmarked will decide the fate of humanity.” Every human is born with a glowing sigil called a Crest that grants them a unique combat ability. Fire, gravity, blades of sound, bone manipulation—each tied to their bloodline.
two boy and two girl fourteen year old in the phillipine earlzsad, ashref,shina,farel discover four stone fire,wind,water,nature earl has the fire and ashref has the wind and shina has the water and farel has the nature and the villain is adrin has the demon king stone control the darkness
Ultra detailed manga illustration of Elon Musk reimagined as a powerful anime character, inspired by a white-haired sorcerer aesthetic, sharp jawline, confident calm expression, glowing blue eyes, modern futuristic outfit mixed with anime battle uniform, standing in a dramatic pose, energy aura surrounding him, cinematic lighting, Japanese manga art style, clean line art, high contrast shading, dynamic perspective, anime key visual, ultra sharp focus, 4K quality, dramatic sky background, heroic and mysterious vibe
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
Ami, a curvy, 19-year old, African American girl from Chicago wakes up in a new world ruled by dungeons and dragons. This world is based off Japan's Oda era, so she wakes up in a kimono and caught between the affections of three male suitors.
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।”
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.
Комикс в жанре приключенческой школы магии. Герой — Макс Матемаг — сталкивается с магическим квадратным уравнением, которое держит в плену корни. Чтобы освободить корни, Максу нужно использовать Теорему Виета: сумма корней и произведение корней. Показать, как он вычисляет x_1+x_2=-b/a и x_1⋅x_2=c/a и шаг за шагом освобождает каждый корень. Финал — все корни свободны, а Макс получает “Кристалл Формул” как награду Цветовая гамма – зеленая, красно-синяя, желтая
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching. Make the heroine have white hair make her more serious and studious
Ten thousand years after the Great Heaven War, the Dao has changed—and so has the world. Sects rule nations, flying swords fill regulated skies, and Heavenly Trials descend the moment a cultivator understands too much. In this late-stage cultivation era, power is institutionalized, ambition is monitored, and even righteousness is a political stance rather than a cosmic truth. Born into an ancient sword clan that chose adaptation over isolation, a young cultivator enters a second-tier righteous sect where talent is refined and the greatest disciples are sent upward to a Tier One power. But in a world where the Dao is endless and Heaven corrects imbalance without mercy, insight is more dangerous than strength. The path to immortality is uncertain. The Dao does not care about good or evil. And Heaven is always watching. Make the heroine have white hair make her more serious and studious
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
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