Midwife, aborted Page 25

Transcript

From the continued Dystopia Chapter - Midwife, aborted - Page 25. The page opens with a wide nighttime view of an ordinary city made up of two- and three-story buildings. Fires burn in the streets and between rooftops in the foreground, their orange light flickering through thick smoke. In the distance, a single large complex dominates the skyline — a broad structure with a smooth, curved roof that stands intact amid the chaos. From the center of its roof, a brilliant column of yellow-white light shoots straight into the sky, piercing the clouds and illuminating the haze below.

As the sequence continues, flashes of light burst across different city blocks while fragments of radio chatter overlay the visuals — commanders calling for reinforcements, reporting losses, trying to maintain order. The perspective shifts between low street-level views and wide aerial sweeps, returning to the curved-roof building where the unwavering beam continues to climb into the clouds. The structure itself remains unharmed, solid and radiant at the center of the turmoil.

In the lower portion of the page, the scene transitions indoors to a quiet warehouse space. Stacks of crates and industrial materials fill the dimly lit room. Amid these shadows, the masked midwife Angie sits, her knees drawn up to chin, arms clutching legs as she stares forward. Pale blue light from the tall windows falls across her smooth white mask and form-fitting suit, reflecting faintly off the cluttered surfaces around her. The setting feels deserted — a forgotten storage floor serving as a shelter.

The closing panel moves in close to Angie’s face. Her mask is smooth and expressionless, but her turquoise eyes glimmer with awareness and fatigue. She breaks the silence uttering “Angie. My name is Angie…” The words are soft yet resolute — a fragile act of identity and self-recognition.

This is the final page of the Midwife, aborted chapter.

Chapter 02: Midwife, aborted – Page 25
Posted on November 3, 2025 by ALFA

A story, a milestone, and the process of becoming

From the jump, Midwife, Aborted felt different from Into Darkness creatively, emotionally, and personally. If Into Darkness was about learning to illustrate the world of Haven, then Midwife, Aborted was about learning to live inside it.

For me, the story’s core themes identity, control, obedience, and self-awareness shaped many creative decision this time around. The sterile blues and symmetrical compositions weren’t just stylistic choices; they were emotional tools. This chapter asked more from me than the first - not just technically, but conceptually. It wasn’t about showing a world anymore, it was about feeling it. Every page carried weight. Every panel felt like a question about what it means to belong, to resist, and to remember who you are. By the time I reached the final page of the chapter, Angie’s whispered “My name is Angie” felt like something we’d earned together. It’s a quiet moment, but it carries the emotional weight of the journey.

As an artist, I’m starting to feel more confident. Not confident that I’ve “arrived,” but that I’m moving in the right direction. This chapter reinforced that growth isn’t about chasing perfection. It’s about showing up every week, trying something you weren’t sure you could pull off, and realizing that improvement doesn’t come in leaps. I can see progression in anatomy, lighting, composition, and tone. My skills are still evolving, still imperfect, but improving. And maybe that’s the point. Every chapter will look a little different because every chapter is drawn by a slightly different version of me.

And that’s a wrap on Midwife, Aborted as a chapter and as a creative milestone. Thank you for reading and sharing. Your presence gives meaning to the process, and your curiosity keeps the city alive.

See you in Chapter Three.