Andreyko redeems the title character and the overall setup of this series with the second issue. There's a much stronger sense of character and direction here, and he hooks me with some smaller flaws in the protagonist. Kate now seems like a real person. A couple of plot developments really took me by surprise, and there's a sense of something new being done within the confines of the super-hero genre. The art boasts an appropriately dark tone at times, and brightens up for the more everyday aspects of the story. The first issue of this series didn't really turn heads, but people should take notice of this second episode.
L.A.'s law enforcement community is still reeling from the vigilante execution of the super-villain known as Copperhead, and Kate, the person responsible, is still sizing up the physical and practical after-effects of her actions. What she isn't considering is the fact that she's supposed to pick up her son for his scheduled weekend visitation, making for further conflict with her ex-husband. Meanwhile, one of Copperhead's metahuman colleagues learns of his death and vows to avenge his friend.
Jesus Saiz's art is more gripping this time around. The dark scenes set in the back, featuring the next super-villain the title character will face, reminded me of Rags Morales's work from Hawkman and Identity Crisis. The antagonist is really expressive. I also appreciated the fact that the scenes set in the "real" world are much brighter in tone, whereas those dealing with super-heroes and villains are steeped in shadow. The colors also add a lot of energy and tension to the cliffhanger here.
Andreyko fills the reader in on what the title character is about here, demonstrating that an ethical conflict is brewing within her, whether she admits it or not. She sees herself as a super-woman, someone who can do anything she sets her mind to, and clearly, that will prove to be her downfall in several respects of her life. Kate (who really needs a last name... couldn't fine one) isn't just a slightful flawed character; she's practically broken, and doesn't know it. She's a heroine that fails in many ways to get people (and the reader) on her side.
Just as Andreyko instills some ugliness in the protagonist, the villain is humanized as well. The reader won't be cheering him on or anything, but by focusing on the notion that this guy is angry because he lost a friend, not because a hero killed a fellow villain, the writer grants him some credibility and some common ground with the audience.
