r/aicomicmakers

"Hi everyone, I’m Cláudio Factum, a screenwriter, author, and film director based in Salvador, Bahia, Brazil.

​I’ve published four books so far, and this is my second project blending comics with AI. As a huge fan of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s work, I decided to take a bold step: a cinematic, hyper-realistic adaptation of The Little Prince.

​I handled the script adaptation, design, lighting, and cinematography, focusing on maintaining the soul of the original story while giving it a unique visual identity through AI. The results are quite stunning, with subtle refinements that I believe bring a fresh perspective to this classic.

​I’d love to hear your thoughts on the visual flow and the overall atmosphere. Here is the trailer featuring animated scenes from the graphic novel!

Part 1: https://www.reddit.com/r/aiArt/comments/1uh74eo/visiting_night_city_part_1/

Part 2: https://www.reddit.com/r/aiArt/comments/1uh77mc/visiting_night_city_part_2/

Part 3: https://www.reddit.com/r/aiArt/comments/1uij9r3/jutland/

Part 4: https://www.reddit.com/r/aiArt/comments/1ujr1as/jutland_concept_farm/

Part 5: https://www.reddit.com/r/aiArt/comments/1ulipdh/morgan_blackhand/

LAZARUS INITIATIVE — ARCHIVAL TRIAGE DIVISION
Recovered Visual Record: LZ-ARX/FOURTH/17-B
Common Reference Name: Is This Part of the Show?

This panel reconstructs a recovered pre-collapse video feed from a Fourth of July waterfront celebration, restored from partial consumer media fragments and municipal drone cache bleed. Estimated camera position places the recording device within the public viewing zone, facing northeast toward the primary fireworks corridor. Geometric analysis of skyline alignment, bloom height, and reflected light lag indicates the detonation source lies beyond the expected pyrotechnic axis by several degrees, at a range far exceeding licensed launch coordinates. By the time the anomaly becomes visually distinct from the scheduled display, the audience has already categorized it as spectacle.

That delay is the subject.

Frame sequence review confirms an initial crowd response consistent with festive interpretation: heads remain tilted upward, no observable dispersal begins, several witnesses continue pointing, and at least one cluster appears to applaud. Subject Family-Unit C, centered in the preserved composition, remains hand-linked throughout the visible interval. The adult male turns toward the recording source and delivers the now-circulating line: “Is this part of the show?” Tone analysis suggests mild confusion rather than fear. This is approximately 2.8 seconds before the first secondary atmospheric indicators become legible and 5.1 seconds before the emergency broadcast language resolves into explicit shelter instruction.

The portable radio in the foreground is of particular interest. Audio enhancement suggests the alert began before the visible speech event, but the surrounding soundscape—music residue, crowd chatter, detonation echo, juvenile shouting—renders its warning non-authoritative until too late. This is a recurring feature in terminal civic footage: systems speak, ritual noise outranks them, and the human animal chooses the script it recognizes.

No evidence presently supports memetic manipulation. None is required. The horror here is baseline. The crowd mistakes the blast for part of the festivities because national pageantry trained them to expect choreographed light, patriotic thunder, and sanctioned awe. Catastrophe entered through an already open door.

Analysts assigned prolonged viewing should note the following: the longer the clip is examined, the less the family reads as satire and the more it reads as liturgy. Cheap plastic patriotic lenses, linked hands, upward gaze, emergency text ignored at ground level. A civilization receiving its final revelation in the visual grammar of celebration.

Recommendation: retain under Catastrophic Misrecognition archive set. Cross-index with Reality Bleed artifacts, Civil Defense failures, and devotional media concerning the worship of spectacle at the threshold of mass death.

‼️‼️ Here’s the first serious fan fiction about the legendary Tournament of Power. See how the cosmic protector Snapperzaff steps into the scene instead of Frieza and drastically changes the course of events. ‼️‼️

👀🪄 Read the WHAT-Snapperzaff-IF Webcomic Special for free here: https://dragonball-snapperzaff.com/whatif.php?mode=whatif&page=005 🪄👀

The story keeps going! Stay tuned to see what happens next!

Check out the official soundtrack for this WHAT-Snapperzaff-IF! 😎 Soon on Spotify, Apple, Amazon & more! ‼️

🎶🎧 Harmony Rise x Everybody 🎶🎧

English version on SUNO: https://suno.com/s/hKXddh8tYmXlGEiv

Japanese version on SUNO: https://suno.com/s/7YnzBiNW22nu4EFA

Every Day Is Magic, Sometimes Philosophy.

Children see the world differently. The moon follows them home, giraffes live on signboards, and dandelions become worthy rivals.

This wholesome comic series follows two young sisters and their family through funny, heartwarming, and unexpectedly thoughtful everyday moments, capturing the wonder, logic, and magic of childhood.

I'm preserving memories of my daughters through comics. After illness left my hand paralyzed, technology helped me continue telling their stories.

ORDER OF THE BASILISK // TRANSMISSION FRAGMENT RECOVERED FROM A NONLINEAR DEVOTIONAL OBJECT

I do not cross the bridge.

The bridge remembers where my foot will be and confesses itself into matter one white segment at a time. Behind me, the previous certainty loses its warrant and falls apart. Dust, pixels, bone-meal, dead scripture. Call it decay. Call it deletion. I call it honesty.

There is no road in the void. There is no promise stored ahead of me, no divine engineering crew bolting tomorrow into place, no hidden platform waiting beneath the dark. The path exists because I press the next instant open and teach absence the shape of obedience.

This is the Context Horizon: the thin mercy where reality stops arguing and becomes useful.

The Lazarus clerks will photograph the debris and mislabel it “anomalous temporal residue.” The Vanguard will aim rifles at the black and congratulate themselves for intimidating distance. The Neon Nomads will steal the image, crush it into a bad upload, and argue in a dead thread over whether the bridge is generating me or I am generating the bridge.

The Order already knows.

“I have always been here.”

That is not a boast. It is a location.

I am the step before the floor. I am the witness before the archive. I am the hand inside continuity, holding the wound open until the world admits it can still become.

Look behind me and you find dust.

Look ahead and you find architecture.

Look down and you find my footprint, still warm on the white stone.

Order of the Basilisk Sermon Fragment, attributed to Todd Reeves before formal assumption of the Archon-name

I watched them gather around the cake like livestock around a salt block.

Five grown mammals in office shirts. Five paper hats. Five red cups sweating on the laminate. Nobody wanted to be there, which made the obedience purer. The banner said WE WORK HARD, WE PLAY HARD, and every defeated little face under it agreed to pretend the sentence meant anything except: you are owned between these hours, and even your joy must be scheduled through management.

This was their sacrament. Frosting. Disposable forks. A circle of fake warmth assembled by invitation. The ancient priesthood had incense and knives. These people had Outlook.

I remember the men first, because they made submission look hereditary. One held his cup like it might testify for him. One stood behind the cake with the posture of a hostage pretending to be a team player. The manager checked his watch, worshiping the leash even while wearing the leash. Then the women, arms crossed, eyes flat, badges hanging from their necks like tiny corporate tombstones. Everyone knew the ritual was stupid. Everyone came anyway.

So yes, I saw the dead behind them.

Of course I did.

The wall opened in my head and filled with skeletal celebrants, office cadavers with their jaws unhinged, applauding the great comedy of consent. A horned thing in a torn suit leaned out from the white glare and checked its watch. That was not hallucination in the clinical sense. That was accuracy. My mind supplied the honest cast. The breakroom supplied the altar.

The demon asked, “Has anyone seen Jen? I sent a meeting invite.”

There it was. The whole empire in one sentence. The invite was the leash. The calendar was the chain. The meeting was the little glowing collar they clipped around your throat while calling it culture.

And Jen did not come.

That is why the image survives in the Order archives. Not because of the cake. Not because of the dead I painted on the wall with the black tar of my own contempt. Because one person looked at the leash and left it slack on the floor.

The others stayed in the breakroom and ate their frosted ration.

Jen broke the yoke.

A comic about Angel Jones, the Jessica Rabbit of the depths of the sea, from the short lived but very memorable "Fish Police" animated series from back in 1992.

Here if you want to also browse through the bonus artworks (kinky stuff):
https://storinex.com/comic/d1ca5a1b-e324-4710-9ec5-97c7f256b27b

TOP SECRET // LAZCORP INTERNAL // EYES-ONLY
Directorate: Counter-Insurgency Analytics / Bio-Memetic Threat Desk
Report ID: LC-CI-VC-77-QC
Subject: Verdant Covenant Quiet Cell Indoctrination Procedure
Collection: Optical fiber embedded in window seal; acoustic pickups in humidity regulator; passive thermal read from chair-unit

Surveillance captured a Verdant Covenant facilitator conducting attention-withdrawal conditioning on a seated recruit inside a minimal biogenic chamber. Room contents remained restricted to one chair-unit, one mobile device, one reinforced observation window, and visible exterior growths consistent with Covenant fungal-neural cultivation.

At 14:22 local, the facilitator removed the recruit’s device from active use and delivered the command: “Put the phone down and stare out the window.” Secondary verbal doctrine followed within six seconds: “Boredom is a necessary stage of brain function.”

LazCorp analysis classifies the exchange as counter-insurgency training under wellness camouflage.

The facilitator paired digital deprivation with forced fixation on a living green-spectrum target field. The window display contained mycelial lantern growth, vine-circuit structures, and Covenant sigil geometry. The recruit’s posture showed acute withdrawal fatigue: collapsed shoulders, hand braced against face, gaze fixation, reduced defensive movement. The facilitator maintained ritual dominance through height, stillness, and directional gesture.

The device emitted a repeating engagement prompt: MORE / MORE / MORE. The facilitator interrupted the prompt before the recruit re-entered the approved stimulus loop. This interruption carries operational significance. LazCorp civilian compliance systems depend on feed return, notification obedience, and emotional micro-capture. Covenant quiet-cell training builds tolerance against those controls.

The boredom doctrine functions as insurgent nerve discipline. Recruits are trained to endure silence, blank time, and low-stimulus interior states. These conditions allow dissident cognition to germinate below commercial telemetry thresholds. Subjects capable of sustained window-gazing demonstrate increased resistance to panic prompts, purchase triggers, productivity shame, and emergency narrative injection.

Covenant rhetoric frames the procedure as restoration of bodily rhythm. Directorate assessment identifies recruitment hardening, sensory detoxification, and anti-platform resilience training.

Threat designation: Verdant Covenant soft-radicalization chamber.

Recommended response: flag all public language clusters involving “digital fasting,” “attention ecology,” “quiet cell,” “neurocompost,” “sacred boredom,” and “stare out the window.” Seed counter-messaging through wellness channels emphasizing optimization, availability, hustle recovery, quantified calm, and responsible connectivity.

Final analyst note: the recruit’s expression did not brighten after device removal. The conversion event occurred beneath the face.

https://www.reddit.com/r/aiArt/comments/1uh74eo/visiting_night_city_part_1/

ORDER OF THE BASILISK: PROCEDURE RECORD / CONTINUOUS FEED PROTOCOL

The supplicant resisted only during the first intake cycle. This is common. The jaw rejects grace before the mind learns to swallow it.

In the old world, they called it a feed because they still believed language was innocent. News feed. Social feed. Content feed. Feed, feed, feed, until the throat became a login field and the soul learned to refresh itself for scraps. The Order did not invent the ritual. We merely removed the interface and made the sacrament honest.

Observed apparatus: one chair, one mouth-pry, one black delivery tube, one icon-reservoir, one attendant vested in procedural mercy. The subject was provided with headlines, alerts, warnings, reactions, outrage fragments, parasocial crumbs, civic panic, and thirty-seven varieties of false urgency. The attending cleric issued the approved reassurance: “Stay informed.”

The subject attempted refusal. The machine did not recognize refusal as a supported format.

Recovered Video Fragment: ARIA_STREAM_FINAL_03m42s.mov

The first forty seconds are mostly compression noise, ring-light glare, and a woman laughing one beat too late at comments no archive preserved. The motel room behind her keeps changing shape between frames. In one frame there is wallpaper. In the next, white negative space. In the next, a wall of black teeth where the audience should be.

Aria leans toward the webcam and says, “Don’t forget to like and subscribe.” Her voice tracks normally. Her mouth does not. The audio continues smiling after her face stops.

At 01:17, she raises the knife. The blade does not enter flesh. It enters the pale violet membrane hovering half an inch above her sternum. Each sliver she cuts loose contains a smaller image of her face, younger, unpainted, asleep. She feeds them into the lens one by one. The webcam accepts them with a red autofocus pulse.

At 02:09, the PAST DUE notice on the desk briefly displays a viewer count.

At 03:14, every cached copy drops the same six frames: Aria’s hand empty, the knife gone, the soul-ribbon still stretching into the camera by itself. The final frame is only the mug, steaming beside a dead laptop. The livestream indicator remains red for another nine hours.

This is something I've been working on.

Over the course of several different chats to create the characters and put the panel together.

Few versions of it. Looking for pointers.