Into The Unbeing #1: The Fire Above

Earth is ravaged by climate change. Humanity’s responses amount to little more than stopgap measures. Solutions might be found underground. Into the Unbeing #1 promises that those discoveries will be shrouded in danger and horror.

Climate change is ravaging the planet in Into the Unbeing #1. Resulting fires destroyed Hildur’s home town and killed her husband and daughter. The tragedy radicalized her to climate and environmental issues, and she joined the Scientific Institute for Nascent Ecology and Worlds (S.I.N.E.W.) shortly thereafter. The story jumps forward to Australia in 2034 and a scientific outpost led by Hildur and studying the surrounding environment. Hildur and her team are alerted to nearby tectonic shifts–the sudden emergence of an entirely new environment. They trek out to it and find a cave structure that stirs fear in all of them.

Into the Unbeing #1’s opening pages depict one of the more disturbing climate catastrophes imagined. Bad air, mass extinction, deteriorating plant life–these are staples that probably leave audiences unfazed. But spontaneous combustion is much worse. It’s an excellent introduction to Hildur. Her dialogue when relating the story is effective enough, but it can’t substitute for seeing a bird fly through the air while on fire or Hildur kneeling in front of her burning house. When we learn late in the issue just how radicalized Hildur is–how much she wants to tear down the system that allowed this crisis in the first place–it’s believable because the climate crisis destroyed her life in a particularly horrible way.

Hildur also provides a point of view from which to examine her associates. She is committed to the cause without question. Her fervor isn’t matched with everyone. Though they believe in the work and are committed to the cause, at no point does Thompson demonstrate a willingness on their part to do whatever it takes to advance their cause. This, plus Hildur’s apparently secret instructions, plants the seed for conflict in future issues. The tension that closes out Into the Unbeing #1 isn’t just about the mysterious and likely dangerous cave.

Thompson doesn’t push hard into horror elements here. The disturbing cave structure certainly sets up a foreboding mystery, but the issue doesn’t give away anything that suggests what is beyond the mouth of the cave. While the issue does proceed at a fast pace, the horror component is on a slow burn.

All of the characters in Into the Unbeing #1 feel worn out to a degree. It’s a result of Sherman’s liberal use of lines on characters’ bodies–such as arms, legs, neck, and collarbones–and on their clothes. The look is consistent with Sherman’s style in a general sense–perhaps a little rougher. But in the context of this world, the art reinforces how hard life is. In that sense, Sherman is an ideal choice for the series.

The issue’s visual identity owes more to Sherman’s color choices, though. Every panel is rich and vivid. The colors used for environments and characters’ clothing creates significant visual contrast throughout the issue. The choices Sherman makes for the cave are particularly effective. During the day the cave structure’s mouth is almost monochrome and looks as lifeless as everything else in the area. In the one panel depicting it at night, though, color variation adds new detail and creates a major shock and the issue’s first real promise of the horror to come.

Campbell makes a choice with the caption boxes that doesn’t really impact the issue in any way but does catch the eye. Many boxes throughout the issue are not perfectly rectangular–as though someone has taken a pair of scissors and simply cut a space where their lower right corner was. In some places another box will sit in that open space, as though the boxes are interlocked. There doesn’t seem to be a purpose for this choice beyond establishing a visual aesthetic. It’s not distracting per se, but it does feel odd on the first few pages.