G.O.D.S. #6: Everything Has a Cost

One of the most foundational tropes in fantasy storytelling is the descent into the underworld (or the unknown) in an attempt for knowledge or a boon. Orpheus seeks his lost love Eurydice in Hades, Gilgamesh crossing to find the source of immortal life, and countless other tales. Whether it be as a way to try and restore something that is lost, or to obtain something beyond the mortal realm, there is typically an ironic twist or change in goals throughout the process of the journey. Typically the journey is taken up by a classical hero figure as part of their mythical journey. An interesting twist to the trope is the subversion of a hero for another major archetype like the sage, the femme fatale, or even the dying god. 

G.O.D.S. #6 – written by Jonathan Hickman with art by Valerio Schiti, colors by Marte Gracia, and letters by VC’s Travis Lanham – is an issue all about consequences. Specifically, the consequences of Aiko’s manipulations that have robbed her apprentice Mia (or lackey, depending on who’s asked) of her maximum magical potential. Revealed in the last issue by Wynn, the twist indicates just how indifferent the Powers-That-Be and the Natural-Order-of-Things are towards their avatars. In direct opposition to that apathy, Aiko seeks out one of the highest cosmic beings in the Marvel multiverse, the Living Tribunal, to ask for judgment and to undo the decision. 

Like any good Faustian bargain, the path leads into a descent through another plane. Aiko is guided by The Lion of Wolves, a proclaimed liar and thief, who shepherds her to her destination after paying multiple costs: some mental, some physical, but all of steep value. She arrives at her destination and achieves her goal, but also like a good Faustian bargain, in a way built on irony over fairness. There’s a hint towards the larger conflict brewing both on the cosmic level between the various forces on the axis of power, along with the brewing storm within the dichotomy of servants of the opposing powers. 

This issue makes an interesting pairing of Aiko, a representative of science and order, with the narrative structure of the supernatural bargain tale. It plays as a natural result of Hickman’s plot seeding throughout the previous issue, drawing the roots of science and magic together to form a hearty trunk of conflict. The series has worked best when it grapples with the opposite ends of the Marvel universe, and this issue is no different as Aiko becomes the stranger in a strange land. Her confidence and rational thinking make her a formidable protagonist even as she has to abandon the rationale for following the rules in a game of trades. 

Aiko’s descent is a striking, yet simple plot that engrosses the reader as they learn more about the rules of this cosmic system. From plane crossings to costs and then judgment, nothing is quite so straightforward for anyone. Oblivion’s appearance makes it clear a long game is in effect, and it seems that his appearance has been the cipher to the larger narrative slowly taking form in this series. The Tribunal makes evident that sometimes true justice is not punishment but making an example, and Oblivion moves his plans forward by standing in opposition to that notion. That is a great example of character-driven storytelling that manages to progress Aiko’s larger arc along with the ongoing plot in a way that plays like a perpetual loop of organic growth. 

Schiti’s artwork continues to stun in its depictions of these larger-than-life concepts, bringing weight and a sense of scale to the cosmic embodiments of the universe. Even as a mortal who centers herself on science over magic, there is something ethereal that Schiti embeds into Aiko’s design and expressions. She carries similar qualities to the mythological mage, as a person in the hunt for knowledge no matter the cost. Her posture, demeanor, and expression all resemble that path forward for her, and Schit gives her all the confidence that comes with the decision. 

In sharp opposition to the firm artwork of Aiko’s physicality is Schiti’s delivery of the mystical elements of the story. On the diametrically opposed side of the world from Aiko are the supernatural elements of the road towards the Tribunal. Flying carriages, mystical beings in Victorian fashions and metal masks, and even the Hades-coded descent all give Schiti another excuse to flex his fantastical illustrations. These moments and more showcase the pure creativity on display in the issue, as Schiti brings the abstract into a stylized depiction of reality. 

Even as Schiti moves further away from the concrete and into the abstract, his focus on the expressions and humanity of Aiko (and later Wynn) never strays. It doesn’t matter that the Living Tribunal towers over Aiko and the emissaries, or The Lion of Wolves leads her further along the path of compromise. At the core of these moments is Aiko the person, and the emotional need driving her. Her anguish and guilt over what she took from Mia is an underlying motivator that Schiti imbues onto her face and in her stance, ensuring that she is never totally consumed by the forces that stand above and around her. It’s an excellent artistic principle that rests at the heart of this series, always putting humanity at the center of the massive push and pull of the cosmos. 

The creation of these effects like Aiko’s sagely atmosphere, the twisting of abstraction, and a drive toward humanity are all bolstered by Gracia’s coloring. The pristine white of Aiko’s hair and costuming make it difficult to not think of the reborn Gandalf, the archetypal sage in Western fantasy fiction. Even when she is reduced by the Tribunal (emotionally and physically), the glint of white ensures her figure is evident amid the sprawling figures of cosmic gods. Gracia also continues to trade in a palette built on golden light and purple energy, giving a mysterious, regal tone to the backgrounds and costuming in the issue.