So I have no clue how this flew under my radar—but I’m so glad the guys at my local comic book store recommended it to me. Assorted Crisis Events #1 is the kind of first issue that doesn’t gently introduce itself. Deniz Camp throws you into the deep end of a collapsing world with a script that reads like a fusion of Grant Morrison’s cosmic density and Guy Ritchie’s sharp, quick-talking street smarts. Every page pulses with chaotic brilliance, but it’s never incoherent. It moves—fast, weird, and smart. What hit hardest was how grounded and raw the main character felt, even while navigating a dystopian, apocalyptic world where time itself is broken. You can feel she’s completely fed up—emotionally and physically drained from trying to function in a reality that’s constantly rewriting itself. When she shows up to work only to discover this version of the universe never had her in it? Brutal. And by the end, when she just gives up—not with anger but with exhaustion—you don’t just understand her. You are her. It’s a quiet, devastating moment that sticks with you. Time displacement is notoriously tricky in comics—usually a hit-or-miss mechanic—but Camp leans in with confidence. Here, it’s not just clever sci-fi; it’s a metaphor for identity erosion, for trying to keep a grip on who you are when the world won’t stop shifting under your feet. Eric Zawadzki’s art is the visual glue holding this chaos together. There’s a perfect balance in how his layouts carry the weight of dense worldbuilding, shifting realities, and personal emotion without ever overwhelming the page. His characters are expressive, the environments feel hostile and strange, and the tension hums visually in every panel. I’d absolutely recommend this to anyone who loves comics—especially readers who appreciate ambitious storytelling that’s not afraid to challenge you. Assorted Crisis Events is wild, relentless, and painfully relatable—exactly the kind of sci-fi we need right now.