The prog closes with another Mega City One story in Anderson, Psi-Division: The Candidate. Emma Beeby and Nick Dyer fill their pages with political intrigue and mounting violence but don't neglect their characters, creating striking portraits of their lead characters with a smart structure and leaving us on a nail-biting cliffhanger. These script and art droids really know what they're doing"

Next week brings a whole new set of stories and many fan-favourite creators to 2000 AD's most momentous issue in the history of its publication. If you want to jump aboard, now would be the time to do it.

Rounding off the prog is first episode in a new story from Peter Milligan and Rufus Dayglo: Counterfeit Girl, a dystopian, cyberpunk-inflected piece about identity switching and flicking a two-fingered salute to the authorities.We can only hope that 2000 AD continues in this grand tradition for at least another 2,000 zarjaz progs. Splundig vur thrigg indeed!

What's most striking about this incarnation of Casanova is how different it is from previous volumes despite using all the same ingredients (albeit variations thereof), and how you have to sort of adjust to the speed and tone of each new issue. This might be a challenge to some but those looking for something fresh and exciting will welcome that challenge; it's thrilling to watch established creators push themselves in new directions and experiment, even (especially) when you have no idea where they're going with it. For now, just lay back and enjoy the melodies.

As if that weren't enough, the backmatter is filled with early sketches and Spurrier's mandatory notes and research on the creatures featured within Cry Havoc's pages. If you're into mythology, this book will be like catnip for you. As the last pages make clear, the rest of Lou Canton's story looks to be as unpredictable as the start. Or end. Middle? Who cares; it's fun just to be in such a messy, weird and exciting world.

Poor Nick Dragotta: he must be sick of drawing the same ten faces sitting around tables talking each other to death. While there isn't a lot of variation in panels or structure in the first half – other than Frank Martin's steadily reddening colour palette, which works nicely, if not subtly, to capture the rising fervor of the story – he at least gets to draw a balls-out action scene towards the end, creating one of the most striking images of the last few images that ends up being is all too brief. That such an artist, kinetic and manga-esque in his expression of rapid movement, is restrained to such a degree is a real shame, particularly when it looks like he'll stay onEast of Westto the bitter end and Hickman apparently has no intention of curbing his bad habits.

Dragotta and Martin do their best with the dialogue and exposition-heavy scenes, but no amount of striking character design (one of the hunters is flying cyborg disturbingly lacking in human features, but his uncanny qualities are undercut by Hickman's staid dialogue) or dusty, evocative colour can lift this issue above its plotting-by-numbers feeling. It's clear that East of West is heading towards a conclusion of some kind, but it looks like we might hit the real apocalypse before we reach it.

It starts to grate when you've been fed a tale with the same attitude towards audience satisfaction for over three years and little hope of an end in sight. Here's hoping “Year Three” does something to change that.

Best of all, Giant Daysis the perfect gift to hook your non-comics-reading friends as each issue is more or less standalone and – as mentioned previously – there's nary a cape nor cowl to be seen. And the more fans of sweet, daft comics there are the better, really.

In another universe,Giant Days would be a TV show akin to Gilmore Girls or Dawson's Creek (except better than those two because there are sometimes fights where people get kicked across rooms). The point is that readers relate to the characters in Allison and Sarin's work to ‘shipping levels, and there's likely no higher praise for a comic book about teenagers. Here's to Esther, Daisy and Susan's second year: let's hope it's as messy and delightful as the first one.

The issue ends on a recursive flashback that leads to a scene from the first pages, which seems an odd way to tease the upcoming series. We know what happened in this issue – why not suggest another place for the story to go?Glitterbombreads like a high concept with no foundation: there are symbols and signs of a story here, but it's all too thin on closer inspection. Though an essay on institutional backstabbing and sexism in the film industry by Holly Raychelle Hughes offers some unpleasant real-world context to the story, ancillary material shouldn't have to prop up the main event.

While the first issue doesn't give away too much in terms of plot,Horizon‘s premise has promise, even if a little of that is lost in the telling. Whatever the case it's certainly an enjoyable read and a book that fans of high concept sci-fi should keep an eye on.

Brubaker & co. tread a fine line in this issue by making Dylan's descent into violence and murder by making his first act one of warped justice. The killing itself isn't overplayed or glamorised, but the build-up is agonising, especially considering that it happenstwice in the issue. What chills most about this series is how close to reality Dylan's actions are (other than doing the bidding of a terrifying shadow-demon to avoid being dragged to hell, of course). If an ordinary person were to decide to commit murder, this might well be the path they'd take. And, as our hero admits towards the end of the issue, it's as much a slippery slope as it would likely be for anyone; his confession of enjoying the act while feeling sick to his stomach chimes an unsettling note.

One thing that doesn't stick out is the ending ofMechanism‘s first issue, which closes on the scientist's narration telling us just how special the robot he's created is going to be, superimposed on a scene of action in which said robot…does nothing. If your idea of creating intrigue is telling the audience that something compelling is going to happen at some future point in a story, there's a serious flaw in how you're telling it. An audience should be enthralled by page one, not told that they have to wait a month and buy a new issue for the good part to begin.

Lemire and Lenox should be commended for this small, huge story, as they have managed to tell an old, all too familiar story in a new, emotionally resonant way without resorting to trite sentiment or vulgar exploitation. That's more than can be said for most superhero stories these days.

There's hope in the book's closing pages for more clarity about the series' trajectory " which will hopefully include more of Katie as hinted by her presence on the cover " but overall this first issue is curious rather than compelling. Seven to Eternity embodies a problem that plagues many new series these days: instead of leading us into the real story right off, we're shown a teaser for that story. This may end up being a dazzling saga of epic weight and mastery, but spending an issue getting to the start is a little tedious.

Hung and O'Malley work in perfect synchronicity to bring hilarious, otherwise low-key moments to vivid life (a silent exchange between Lottie and Cutegirl, who are placed on opposite sides of a cafe window, contains some of the best, most authentic fictional texting ever put into print) and give Lottie's minor crises an OTT urgency that makesSnotgirla ridiculously pleasurable read. Why isn't this book in your sticky, bogey-covered hands already?!

Every single element in Snotgirl is used in concert to make for a breezy, laugh-a-panel reading experience that still manages to feel substantial despite its superlative silliness. And that's why, if you aren't already reading this comic, you need to catch up.

It's not all melodrama and panic-stricken heroines, however; there's a hilarious sequence involving Lottie getting hit on at the snack table by a cute but shiver-inducingly creepy guy. Though she's left speechless by his strange and aggressive come-ons, she gets the last laugh in a page that is some of Hung's most entertaining (and possibly most NSFW) work on the series so far. The subplot is not only a delight, but a subtle reminder thatSnotgirlis about sexual politics and gender roles just as much as the hysterical antics and farcical thriller elements, retaining its claim as one of the boldest, funniest, and smartest books being published right now.

The issue moves at its usual breakneck pace, with ironic laughs, stunning costumes and visual gags galore (the Tokyo cat cafe is a particular highlight), though the plotting feels more functional this time around. Nothing major happens to Lottie, other than her introduction to a heretofore minor character and the continuing deterioration of her mental state, and most of the scenes feel like they're set-ups for the next issue rather than satisfying chunks of story or comedy. That said, to call this the weakest issue so far would be true but misleading;Snotgirl‘s still the freshest, most vigorously entertaining comic on the shelves right now, and I have faith in all involved that the first arc will come together in explosive fashion (excuse the double-pun, folks) next week.

There may be something worthwhile for those with the fortitude to finishThe Black Monday Murders #1 in a single sitting, but for many it may be too much of a slog to carry on through the rest of the series. You can't fault the team for their ambition – and in particular Hickman's continued insistence on telling his stories his way – but this first issue just feels a little too much like homework.

Though the interviews don't propel things forward too much in terms of plotting, we're given a strong sense of how the Pantheon is faring after the game-changing events of last issue. New hierarchies and relationships have formed and past friendships are revealed in an issue that's more interested in the interior lives of these all-powerful young gods who are, after all, just as human as the rest of us. And since they've already faced and defeated their biggest challenge yet, what could possibly go wrong?

The issue's theme is the cost of creation, both on the creator and created, and the idea that true immortality might be passing on one's life rather than living forever. Considering the pantheon always has a pitifully short lifespan, this question seems all the more urgent despite its futility; no-one gets out alive, not even gods. The only hope we can have for the cast of the main book is that they come to terms with this a little less violently than their forbears.

Overall, the team's impressive execution of their first issue elevates anoverdone premise to make Throwawaysa promising new series, with complex characters, engaging art and – most crucially – an itch to know what happens next.

Despite the significant delay – due to Ellis's health problems late last year – the issue's promise of the storylines to come are tantalising, picking up both on unresolved threads from the first volume and intertwining developments from this one. The writer's work of late is cumulative; what may seem sparse and frustratingly brief in a single issue develops into something much larger and more gratifying in the context of the bigger picture, and it's a welcome relief to have a key part of that puzzle in place.