Midwife, aborted Page 24


Dystopia: Chapter 2 – Midwife, Aborted, Page 24
A flashback sequence - Inside a dim, stone-walled cavern, the Counselor—an elderly man with round glasses, a silver cap and ornamental robes, and an unnervingly calm demeanor—addresses a group of young girls dressed in identical light-blue uniforms. These girls, including Angie (distinguished by the small mole on her cheek), have been chosen to become midwives, destined to serve the Tribunal.

The Counselor tells the girls not to worry—each of them is about to embark on a “glorious journey” that will further humanity’s progress. He reminds the girls that they are all merely “tools” of the Tribunal, working together as “one mind, one body, one purpose.” He gestures expansively, his tone that of both scientist and preacher. Their questions, he says, are best left unanswered until “the process” begins—then they will understand everything. As he clasps his hands to his chest, the Counselor chants, “We will be one mind, one body, one purpose.” The girls echo his words in perfect unison, their expressions blank and compliant.

In the final panels, the Counselor’s voice continues as he gives the command, “My hands, let us proceed.” The girls stand still, awaiting the next step. The page closes on this chilling moment, signaling the imminent loss of individuality as the midwives surrender to the Tribunal’s collective will.

Chapter 02: Midwife, aborted – Page 24

Creative notes: This week’s page, Dystopia: Chapter 2 – Midwife, Aborted, Page 24, steps back in time with a haunting flashback that explores the origins of Angie’s indoctrination. The scene brings us inside the Tribunal’s stone-walled caverns — a simple, ritualistic space that merges scientific authority with religious reverence.

The Counselor
The Counselor needed to embody both wisdom and quiet menace. From an artistic standpoint, his age was essential—he had to appear old enough to possess knowledge and authority, yet vigorous enough to lead this unsettling activity. The lines on his face, the slight stoop of his posture, and the calm steadiness of his gestures all suggest someone who has performed this ritual many times before. His ornamental robes and circular glasses were drawn to contrast with the smooth, blank youth of the girls he addresses—visual cues of both separation and control.

Angie
One of the challenges in this sequence was ensuring readers could easily identify Angie among the nearly identical girls. Her small facial mole, (as mentioned last week), continues to serve as the visual anchor. My take is that as individuality is being erased, that mark becomes symbolically precious: the last flicker of “self” before assimilation.

The Scene
The panel borders were deliberately drawn with a ragged, irregular edge to evoke a “dreamlike” or “fractured memory” quality. This page is not happening in real time—it’s a recollection, filtered through Angie’s subconscious. The broken, uneven framing helps communicate that the reader is looking backward into a manipulated or incomplete version of the past.

Tone
From a storytelling perspective, Jackwraith's dialogue in this scene feels (to me) both intimate and institutional. The Counselor speaks with warmth (as they did in the hallway scenes with Angie and 8244), but his words carry the chill of indoctrination. The repetition of “one mind, one body, one purpose” functions like a prayer or programming command, reinforcing the story’s tension between faith and control.