It’s safe to say we’re just about to reach the finish line to the harrowing, yet hauntingly charming world of WicDiv. We’ve seen the colourful cast grow as individuals, let us down, rise up anew to our graces, and of course, die. Character deaths have become such a high selling point in contemporary media, WicDiv has certainly lived up to the standard, and maybe even given a few TV shows a run for their money. When talking about character deaths, we’d do well to remember it all relies on shock factor. Either punish the reader/viewer by turning their investment on a character against them, or swipe them away out of nowhere, or both.
Sometimes, though, it’s a gradual process – really just about how low a character can get. Then character death becomes character assassination, and it can work like a charm if handled well. This is one of the central themes today. Just how low can Ananke/Minerva go to continue their life cycle?
“We’ve got to look after each other.”
Incidentally, who may this fella on the cover be? Judging by the face paint, he’s probably a Persephone fan, which prompts a few questions, given the development around her on the past few issues. It may be slightly ironic that the cover portrays an aspect of worship to a Goddess that isn’t technically one. But is it indeed ironic? Or is it fitting as she works towards the long-due downfall of the Maiden and the Crone, thus renaming these last few days the Twilight of the Gods? That Persephone’s vendetta and the possible end of the Recurrence* overlap is actually incidental, and that’s the keyword here: incidental.
For it is through a catastrophic incident that we enter this narrative. We begin with the foreboding, journalistic in-extrema res approach, which tells about as much as it withholds. “Footage recorded surrounding the events of the O2 disaster of 1st May 2015.”
Meet Tom, the fellow on the cover; Pantheon-themed Youtuber in the middle of an unboxing video, for we can never have enough of those. Whether there is sarcasm to be found in my authorial tone or not, that is up to you. Nonetheless, this Pantheon Unboxing deserves some special attention given the goodie inside the box: Tickets for the O2 event, aka Baal’s final gig. Lovely readers, are the alarms in your head ringing? If they’re not, they should. Performativity and character go hand-in-hand, which says a lot considering Baal turned out to be a fiery child murderer – not that his fans know it.
We are then treated to a blueprint of the gig’s stage at the O2 stadium, as well as some hidden footage. The highly technical detail is not merely an stylistic choice; we get to know everything about Baal’s final gig. By repurposing Dionysus’ mimicry psi-ound system, Minerva and Baal mean to harness the attending audience’s energies to lure the Great Darkness. Baal is not hesitant in the slightest, but he does tearfully dread the event to come. He’s dreaded killing children to fight the Great Darkness as it is, so what could be worse than that? How about using the death scream of all in attendance to put the enemy down for good?
That’s 20,000 civilian casualties. And that’s is not even the end of it; his mum is gonna be among those. Hey, but if this doesn’t feel sufficiently Macbeth-meets-Lear-times-million yet, how about this? Minerva villainously reveals her plan to an unknown witness (probably Mimir) as she gloats. The Great Darkness she spoke about, it’s implied to be a lie – an acceptable, generic, ominous scapegoat to unite the Gods under her intent. The massive bodycount at the O2 will release ‘psychic fuel’ to generate a new world-wide mind plague. All the while she remains safely in a shelter of her choice.
Well, what say you we switch to a brighter, though doomed, scene? Tom and his buddy Nathan record themselves at the huge line entrance to the event. There they run into Julie, a girl whom Tom asked out. Things didn’t go as he intended; he is bisexual, but she’s only into girls, so there’s an evident incompatibility there. Furthermore, he knew about this, but still tried with the hope of getting to be an exception. Things are now suitably awkward between them. But if there’s any good to draw from here is that Tom is sulking, but he’s not resentful. Weird how common decency has become so rare that it feels like a character trait sometimes, eh?
As the day turns to evening, Tom and Nathan still wait in line. The former has significantly lowered the sulking, but remains in reflection mode. He begins to talk about Persephone, revealing he was present during her debut, when she asserted her name as the Destroyer. Tom (accurately) detects sadness behind her dark masquerade, vaguely feeling that she was trying to punish herself. In this way, he feels a sense of kinship with Persephone, identifying himself as the Destroyer of the bond between Julie and he.
They will never an item, but they can still be friends if he works to mend that bond. And that’s the very thing he does inside of the venue proper as he helps her out of a bad situation with a dude. Julie is initially relieved but then looks understandably cautious about the gesture. Tom puts down all hint of an ulterior motive by saying that they have to look out for one another – because that’s what friends do. In this day and age, there’s unfortunately no way to not take something like that with a grain of salt, but something he says to Nathan shines some credibility into what he did.
And I’ll quote, boldly (in italics): “But… the thing about realising you’re the destroyer? It’s a step towards not being one.”
What a wholesome turn of events. Unfortunately, the gig starts now. From the musical performances I’ve seen in comics, they’re mostly hit-or-miss. There’s no effective conveying of the energy you get a live show. But then again, Jamie McKelvie is Jamie McKelvie, and he was a way to put ‘buts’ in everything I saw or do. He pulls it off, even in just a few panels. One can only imagine the exact genre Baal performs (To me, it’s Benjamin Clementine meets Pure Reason Revolution meets Skepta), but the constant for all readers will be the sensation of intensity. Baal radiates with it, and the audience feels it. And it looks and feels real.
But then, the God-performance kicks in, and the audience’s energy becomes a drooling trance. It’s kind of hilarious, to tell it true. The panels are intertwined with testimonies of the people in attendance, all gravitating around feelings of adoration, ecstasy and whatnot, then followed by those same people all zombie-like… with the peculiar exception of Tom. Maybe self-awareness really is an effective shield against BS. That’s an allegory I’ll gladly take ownership of, thank you very much.
The energy starts building up and we’re taken to a wide shot of the stadium’s exterior. The light under the dome intensifies to such degree that we can imagine everybody in attendance about to die. Strangely, at the brightest moment, we see a gigantic shadow-like being desintegrating from the light, begging the question. Could the Great Darkness, as an actual being, actually exist? What remains after the light mini-Apocalypse dies down is a huge cloud of smoke, and a promise of disaster…
… Or just collective alarm. The people inside of the O2 are still alive, if in a state of panic and confusion. As Tom helps Nathan and Julie find their way around, Persephone’s kindred spirit receives a video call from the Destroyer herself: “Everyone stay calm, I’m here to save you. I’ll put you all under and guide you out. Trust me.”
It’s going to be okay.
Our girl has hijacked the show. Not as Persephone, but as Laura Wilson.
Pardon me while I freak out. Stay tuned, lovelies.
The Wicked + The Divine Issue #40 Credits
Writer: Kieron Gillen
Art / Cover: Jamie McKelvie, Matt Wilson
All images are courtesy of Image Comics