Creation Details
Panel prompts:
- #1“Mina woke to the sting of blood on her forehead, the metallic taste of copper filling her mouth. The world swam in a haze of mud, sweat, and the distant caw of crows perched on broken shields. Bodies lay in tangled piles, some still twitching as the thin dawn light slipped over the battlefield. She tried to piece together the night’s chaos, but the only certainty was the pain that throbbed in the cut behind her ear and the weight of a broken right arm pressing against the cold earth. She had lived her whole life on the margins—stealing food in the favelas, fighting for a cause that never promised peace, becoming a disposable shield for commanders who never cared. The thought that death might finally be a fitting end for someone like her slipped through her mind like a whispered prayer. She closed her eyes, and darkness pressed against her eyelids. When she opened them again, the sun was already rising, spilling gold over the shattered armor and the shattered lives that lay around her. Her left knee throbbed, dislocated, and the mud that had soaked her hair now clung to her skin like a second, grimy coat. She could feel the iron taste of her own blood turning to rust as it dried. The battle seemed over; no shouts, no clashing steel, only the soft rustle of wind through the broken tents. She tried to sit up, using a corpse as a makeshift backrest. The effort sent a fresh wave of pain through her broken arm, but she managed to pull herself into a semi‑upright position. The horizon showed the city walls in ruin, smoke curling from the charred rooftops. Somewhere beyond the smoke, a stream should be flowing, a thin ribbon of water that might still be clean enough to drink. Mina’s thoughts were a tangled knot of survival instincts. She needed water, she needed to move, she needed to stay alive. She pressed her left knee between the armor of a fallen soldier and, with a trembling hand, tried to realign the joint. The effort was too much; a sharp gasp escaped her lips and darkness claimed her again. When consciousness returned, a shadow fell across her face. A hand hovered near her, but her broken arm screamed in protest, and her fingers found only empty air. A deep, calm voice broke the silence. “Easy,” the man said. “I am not here to finish you.” Mina squinted, her swollen eyes trying to focus on the figure kneeling beside her. He wore battered armor, the insignia on his breastplate foreign—enemy colors, but his expression held no cruelty. Dark hair matted with blood framed a sharp jaw, and his eyes were the color of storm clouds. He pressed a waterskin to her cracked lips. “Drink,” he commanded. She tipped the skin, and the warm liquid, tasting faintly of leather, slid down her throat. It was the sweetest thing she had ever felt. When she finished, she coughed, the taste of iron still heavy, and looked at him with suspicion. “Why?” she rasped, voice hoarse. “Because you are alive,” he replied simply. “And I am tired of death.” She stared at his boots, at the scar that ran down his left shin, at the way his breath clouded in the cold morning air. “Can I have more water?” she asked, voice barely a whisper. He nodded and handed her the skin again. As she drank, the world seemed to settle, the edges of pain blurring into something softer. He introduced himself without ceremony. “I am Alaric,” he said. “I fought for the banner that bears the crimson hawk. I am a captain, but I have seen enough killing to know that survival is not a privilege granted to the brave alone.” Mina’s eyes widened. “A captain? You should be among the living, not tending to the dead.” Alaric’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “War does not discriminate. It strips us to our core, leaves us naked in the mud. I found you half‑buried and could not leave you to the crows.” The sound of distant bells, perhaps from the ruined city, drifted on the wind. A fragile hope flickered inside Mina, as fragile as a candle flame. “Do you know where the water is?” she asked.”
Art Style: Noir Comics
Color Mode: Full Color
Panels: 1
Created: