Children of the Vault #1: The Love Virus

I was unfamiliar with Deniz Camp’s work before starting this series, but after this issue I’m going to grab everything he produces. Every aspect of this story, from the character voices, to the philosophical underpinnings, to the barest bones of the plot, fit together perfectly, forming an immaculate body of text and art. 

Without spoilers, I’ll say that this story will take you places that you’ve never dreamed of. The weaponized innocence at play, from Orchis’ Nazi-like daycare centers to the Children’s rhetorical usurpation of the world’s lost orphans, produces a threat that will be profoundly difficult to fight. On this playground of a battlefield, two soldiers who were once on opposite sides of a fundamental rift (laden with their own particular history — one that was itself deeply concerned with the welfare of a child) meet a threat they cannot punch or shoot into submission, because it is buried in the minds of the innocents whom they would most love to protect.

Combine this physical and existential threat with a good dollop of questions about the purpose and usage of faith, an examination of capitalism’s socioeconomic, classist/racist destruction, a dash of (fantastic) jokes about the ’90s (and these characters’ existence therin), a single, perfect Josh Brolin joke, and writing that crackles and pops with significance and you have one hell of a good book. 

Luca Maresca’s line work was expertly done. He creates scenes of violence, breathtaking bleakness, and transcendent beauty with an ease that defies reason. He makes these still images live in time, and they breathe with astonishing force. Carlos Lopez’s color work is nothing short of astonishing. There’s one scene, in particular, in which he colors the chromium glow of a poisoned lake which will shoot shards of pain into your heart.