Day After
Disclosure
First contact isn’t an invasion — it’s a disclosure, and the world was never ready for the truth.
The morning after the truth
When the world’s governments finally stop denying it, the truth lands harder than any invasion could. Day After Disclosure opens on the morning after — a planet blinking awake into a reality it spent a century refusing to believe.
Across three issues it follows the people caught in the turning tide: the ones who always knew, the ones who buried it, and the ones now forced to live in the world that comes next. This is first contact told at street level and in shadow — less about the ships overhead than the faces lit by them.
Revelation, kept in the dark
Disclosure has moved from the fringe to the front page — hearings under oath, declassified footage, a culture abruptly asking what it would actually do with the truth. Day After Disclosure plants itself in that exact moment and refuses the easy catharsis.
It’s painted like a memory you’re not sure is real: heavy noir, figures dissolving into the dark, owing as much to the moody figuration of painters like Ashley Wood and Bill Sienkiewicz as to classic first-contact science fiction. A book about revelation that keeps most of its frame in shadow.
Painted by hand
Day After Disclosure is drawn and fully painted in Clip Studio Paint — built up through sketches, mockups and iteration rather than any single formula. There is a great deal more going on beneath each page than the finished frame lets on.
The result is deliberately cinematic — figures held in near-darkness, the light left to do the storytelling, each panel closer to a film still than a conventional comic.






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