Crimson Flower is such an odd book, both artistically and narratively. Furiously spinning within is an unidentified Slavic whirlwind on a revenge-fueled rampage. This urban folktale woven by Kindt and Lesniewski crackles with peculiar energy like an unfamiliar daydream"I want to know what it all means but they are spare with the details. What we get is more than enough though: a dose of childhood trauma, a measure of magical realism, and a whole bucket of cold Russian ass-kicking splashed in our faces.

It remains to be seen what sort of message about the technology, poverty, and the police state Night Hunters is going to deliver, but as of this issue it is driving steadily towards it in a really badass-looking, post-apocalyptic war machine. It has the perfect mix of cybernetic prosthesis, class warfare, and nihilistic gags, tempered by a clear desire to understand the present moment by means of genre. Setting the story in a developing nation that's just recently been pushed through the gauntlet of industrial subterfuge makes me love it even more. I'm looking forward to keeping up with this one.