Welcome To The Wasteland, Baby!

Notes:

I know that it took just over a full calendar year to get to this issue after the Volume 3 cover, but the thing is that it was a pretty major year for me. After experiencing some significant and transformative life events, I replayed Dead Money and withstood levels of catharsis so powerful that it could have registered on the Richter scale. It also gave me a very vital refresher before I dove back into IKROAH. I mentioned it in the cover notes, but I've been looking forward to "the Dead Money arc" since I first put pencil to paper back in 2020. The scripts were written in 2021, and have underwent revisions here and there since, but for the most part have simply been loaded in the chamber for four years and counting. It's finally time to fire the bullets.

Original Pencils:

Well, it's obvious that there's another art shift. Originally, I wanted to keep doing it in the style of the last few issues of IKROAH and my Vol. 3 cover, but here's the thing: I've realized that I hate digital coloring. I want to do it as little as possible from now on. So I finally decided to learn, actually learn, how to ink worth a damn, using the Vol. 2 Omakes as a warm-up of sorts, and the result that you're getting is these stark and moody black-and-whites. I thought about tinting them red, but it just didn't look as crisp. I can certainly color them if I want to, but outside of single simple images, it's just such a timesink and a soulsuck for me as an artist. It took literally a whole day to draw the third page, I can't imagine needing to still color it on top of everything else.

My new approach to art means that there is very little distance between what's on my paper and what ends up on your screen, and that's how I like it. Still, there's a little trickery involved: to prevent misalignment with the digital blueprint (my panel borders and lettering are all still digital) or mistakes with inking that I can't undo, I've started drawing full bleed background images on their own piece of paper, and then drawing standalone panels and other elements on a separate one. Then it all gets Frankensteined together pretty easily without looking too incongruous or overly digital.

Below, you can see me experimenting with washi tape on the first page to try to get my panel outlines clean; it worked decently enough, but was just so much more trouble and finicky than just doing them separate. Still, it's been a great trick for when I need to prevent runoff from one drawing onto another. You can also see an unused variation of Agnes sprawled out in front of the fountain. While a good pose, I think it ultimately read better if the panels kept the same shot. There's also an inking test of the old man's hologram, because I wasn't sure how I'd represent the etherealness of it without color. But I think I did alright.

Due to production being divided across multiple pieces of paper and also due to just being absolutely in the zone, I didn't get scans of all the pencils before I started inking. If you're a really big fan of that sort of thing, sorry! I'll get it next time.

To my earlier point of realizing that I hated digital coloring, I actually tried working on this issue earlier this year, but I wound up scrapping my entire first attempt because I just straight up wasn't happy with it. The only thing that I still have saved is what would have been the first page of that version:

And while it's not... it's not bad, but I'm much happier as an artist that I changed direction.

Transcript

UNKNOWN LOCATION. It's dark.

???: Get up. Now.

EXT. SIERRA MADRE VILLA. AGNES SANDS is face-down on the ground, at the base of a FOUNTAIN.

???: Not sure why the mutant just dumped you there. Could have been picked apart by the villagers… or worse. Careless.

AGNES remains on the ground, immobile for a few more moments, until--

She begins to rise to her feet.

???: Ahh, you can still stand. Good. If you couldn’t… dead weight.

???: Listen to me.

AGNES has fully risen to her feet. Sweat drips down her face. Some stubble dusts her chin and jawline-- how long has she been out cold? As she stands, she realizes that--

???: There’s a bomb collar around your neck. Ensures compliance. Three others here, same as you. Collars connected... Radio.

AGNES's hand comes up to her collar instinctively. She can feel the metal thing around her neck, locked in place with a sturdy metal clasp. Her eye darts around in panic.

???: Listen.

AGNES looks toward the voice. It's a hologram of an OLD MAN, standing atop the long-dry fountain. The figure is bearded, wild-haired, and wearing tattered, heavily damaged robes of some kind.

OLD MAN (emphatic): If any of you die...

The OLD MAN stands with his back turned toward Agnes, hands clasped behind it. It leers at AGNES over its shoulder.

OLD MAN: ...then you all die.

AGNES SANDS IN: IT KEEPS RIGHT ON A-HURTIN' VOLUME 3: LEFT MY HEART IN THE SIERRA MADRE

The FOUNTAIN is situated in the center of a dilapidated VILLA nestled beneath a plateau. Buildings surround AGNES and the OLD MAN in disrepair and mid-collapse. Dense CLOUDS both hang in the sky and wisp throughout the streets of the villa.

OLD MAN: You-- all of you-- will have to work together for this. Cooperate. Obey. It's, ah... it's a heist. The ultimate heist, and you're a part, now. You're all parts. 

OLD MAN: The greatest technological treasures of the Old World, preserved for centuries beneath this Cloud-- all of its secrets and mechanisms, its controls--

OLD MAN: --they’re all somewhere in there.

The OLD MAN turns his gaze upwards, towards the plateau. Atop it sits a massive, monumental building.

OLD MAN (reverent): The Sierra Madre. You must get inside… you, and the others.

OLD MAN: Do as I say and you can go free. You can all go free. But refuse me, or fail me, or turn on each other… or if you try to take the treasure for yourself? ...Then there’s the collars.

The OLD MAN remains fixed on the SIERRA MADRE. AGNES, on the ground beneath and behind the hologram, follows its gaze, until the OLD MAN turns his head toward her again.

ELIJAH: I need you to find the others who are here, and quickly. Bring them back to this fountain. More instructions then.

The OLD MAN's gaze turns further downward.

OLD MAN: Your Pip-Boy, it can... track the other collars, pinpoint their signals. ...It’s fortunate that you have it. I've... I've had no way to communicate with others, here... for quite some time.

The OLD MAN's gaze suddenly softens.

OLD MAN: Everyone before you? Besides the others here now? They all died without my guidance. So many failed attempts, all such…such a waste, of preciously finite resources.

Then, the OLD MAN smiles again. Staring at AGNES. AGNES stares back, horror solidifying on her face.

OLD MAN: But you, heh-- you’re exactly what I need. 

OLD MAN: : You've been given your task-- go. I will tolerate no more delays. No more greed, no more treachery, no more failures.

AGNES turns away from the fountain, tracking one of the collar's signals on her Pip-Boy already.

OLD MAN: I have waited... far too long for what’s mine.

As AGNES leaves, the hologram on the fountain CHANGES, as the OLD MAN evidently signs off.

SFX: FWWSHZT