Now this is the sort of story that the other X-titles should be examining as part of the "Decimation" event. Whereas the various X-Men creative teams are pitting the heroes against villains in typical conflicts in the wake of most of the world's mutants losing their powers, Paul Jenkins and Ramon Bachs delve into the devastating personal and social fallout such an impossible event would being with it. That Jekins examines it from a journalistic perspective and crafts such a shattered but grounded heroine for us to follow just makes his ideas all the more impressive and the reader experience all the more engaging.
M-Day... that's what people are calling the event of a lifetime, the moment when the world's mutants suddenly found themselves without their powers. For some, it's a godsend, but for many, it's a curse, even a death-sentence, as physiology doesn't always change along with the power loss. Policians jockey for position in the wake of the tragedy, manipulating the news and public opinion to their own end. But lost in the chaos are the stories of those struck down on M-Day, and Sally Floyd, columnist for The Alternative, sets out to tell those stories. She discovers that even in a world with almost no mutants, the same levels of hatred and violence persist.
I've always associated Ramon Bachs's name with a more cartoony style, but the artist demonstrates with this project that his work can be gritty, down to earth and poignant. He brings impossible detail to life convincingly here, but at the same time, his work doesn't venture into photo-realistic territory either. The artist walks a fine line between dark fantasy and reality, and he does so quite well. The colors reinforce the gritty, unfortunate tone of the story with muted shades that manage to instill a sullen atmosphere even when wondrous visuals -- such as a grounded winged dinosaur -- dominate the pages.
In many ways, Sally isn't so much a journalist but an activist. She attends a news conference not to report on a story but to stir up a bigoted politician. Sally's looking to engage in a debate, not report on facts. It doesn't cast her in a bad light, though. She's standing up for her ideals. Jenkins wisely balances that loud-mouth side of her character with a more tender perspective when it comes to telling the stories of victims. The serial-killer plot that reveals itself by the end of the issue draws the reader further into Sally's world and her emotions.
What's interesting about Sally's crusade is that she's hidden her real purpose from the world. It seems as though she's hiding from her own pain, from her own tragedy. It's fitting that she works to ignore her trauma by immersing herself in that of others. Sally is a well-rounded character, full of strength and weakness, loud defiance and quiet despair. 9/10
