At his Grandmother's house in Penang, Wing Sun is lying down on a futon in his bedroom, covered up with a beautiful lightweight quilt Grandma made. Outside his room the rain is coming down. In Penang, every corner of the old town—every whisper of the wind through ancient trees—seems to echo with promises of renewal and love. And as the rain softens outside, Wing-Sun closes his eyes with the comforting knowledge that every detour, every farewell, is simply a step toward a new beginning. A lantern gives soft light to the room, and all is quiet.
Created by
resilientgiant187

At his Grandmother's house in Penang, Wing Sun is lying down on a futon in his bedroom, covered up with a beautiful lightweight quilt Grandma made. Outside his room the rain is coming down. In Penang, every corner of the old town—every whisper of the wind through ancient trees—seems to echo with promises of renewal and love. And as the rain softens outside, Wing-Sun closes his eyes with the comforting knowledge that every detour, every farewell, is simply a step toward a new beginning. A lantern gives soft light to the room, and all is quiet.

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At his Grandmother's house in Penang, Wing Sun is lying down on a futon in his bedroom, covered up with a beautiful lightweight quilt Grandma made. Outside his room the rain is coming down. In Penang, every corner of the old town—every whisper of the wind through ancient trees—seems to echo with promises of renewal and love. And as the rain softens outside, Wing-Sun closes his eyes with the comforting knowledge that every detour, every farewell, is simply a step toward a new beginning. A lantern gives soft light to the room, and all is quiet.
At his Grandmother's house in Penang, Wing Sun is seated at a table in the dining room, with the kitchen in view. Grandmother is sitting at the table telling Wing Sun a story from the Bible. The house is cozy, and it's raining outside. There is an air of suspense, but Wing Sun feels safe and secure.
At his Grandmother's house in Penang, while the tropical rain taps softly against the window, Wing Sun, Mother and Grandmother gather in the cozy living room. The room glows with the soft light of an oil lamp, and the walls are adorned with faded photographs and delicate calligraphy. Grandmother’s eyes sparkle as she begins to speak—a voice that carries both the wisdom of her years and the tender care of someone who’s seen many seasons change. Wing Sun is pensive with anticipation. What will she say?
In Penang, Malaysia. Wing Sun's Grandmother is elderly and lives in Penang, on the island. Grandma's house is in a quieter part of the island, closer to the coastline where the sea breeze can be felt through the wooden windows. It's near the ocean, in Tanjung Bungah where there are old-style homes and a slower pace of life. There are many resort "homestay" hotels, and also some high-rise condos, but Grandmother's house has been there many years. Wing-Sun's mother grew up in that house, near the beach, with the ocean breeze. We see the house from down the street with Grandma standing in the doorway greeting us.
At her Mother's house in Penang, Wing Sun's mother, a beautiful chinese woman in her 30s, is standing in her bedroom looking out the window at night. We see her from a quarter view inside the room. She is pensive and an air of tension fills the room as she remembers growing up in this house. Her hair is long and black, and she's wearing her housecoat. A lantern gives low light inside the room. It's raining outside.
At the bustling Kuala Lumpur airport, Wing-Sun and his Mother say farewell to his father before he leaves for a six‐week business trip to London. We see Wing Sun and his mother from the back, as Father stands on the escalator going up to his departure gate, and turns toward us to wave goodbye. Many other passengers and children are standing around. The airport is modern and well lit.
Inside an informal church in Kuala Lumpur. Wing Sun and his father and mother, along with Siu Zi, his friend from school are there together. We are standing in the back of the room, and there are many more people than there were in the London church. There are people of different ethnicities, but mostly Chinese Malaysian. The Pastor, a Chinese man, is standing up front speaking to the congregation, facing them. The atmosphere is hot and sweaty, with ceiling fans running, but still welcoming, Wing Sun is happy that his family is together and also that his friend Siu Zi, who he has just learned is a Christian, can be there too.
Inside an informal church in London. Wing Sun's father has been invited to attend with his counterpart from the office. He doesn't have anything else to do on Sunday morning, so he goes along. we are standing in the back of the room. There are many people of different ethnicities, the Pastor is standing up front alongside a worship leader with a guitar, and a young black woman, facing the audience. The atmosphere is warm and welcoming, but Wing Sun's father feels a little uncomfortable.
At a private school in Kuala Lumpur, 10 year old Wing Sun and his friends play a game of soccer in the schoolyard. The school's main building is visible and some teachers are looking on. Some schoolgirls are standing nearby.
Inside a large office building in London, on the 5th floor, Wing Sun's father, a Chinese Malaysian man in his 30s, speaks to his counterpart in the company, and English man, about business. Other workers are seated at their desks and standing at a copy machine. There are some Black people, but mostly British. One whole wall of the room is glass and we can see something of London outside.
The monster (Mt. San Gorgonio) rises in the North, all hoary-frost above behemoth shoulders. Snake-like clouds adorning her, I crane my neck, Gaze fixed past the big white house toward uplifted boulders. And at the South, like his namesake martyr, Hyacinth (Mt. San Jacinto) has lost his head in cloud. Burned bones against a blue backdrop he wears that legacy proud. Between the two, another sunrise gleams and beams of brilliant, white-hot day flash forth: Accentuate Sonora’s west extremes, and last night’s moon forgot to go away.
Inside a home in Petaling Jaya, Wing-Sun, a 10 year old Chinese boy sits cross-legged on the cool tile floor, watching the delicate tendrils of smoke rise from the joss sticks his father has just placed in the family altar’s bronze urn. The flickering candlelight casts shifting shadows over the framed portraits of the ancestors, their solemn faces gazing out from another time. Wing-Sun's father, dressed in crisp slacks and a neatly pressed white shirt, murmurs a quiet prayer, his voice low and rhythmic. Beside him, Wing-Sun’s mother clasps her hands together in a quiet moment of respect before adjusting the jade bangle on her wrist. Their morning ritual is a quiet, practiced thing; one they perform, and Wing-Sun observes, every day.
Wing Sun is a 10 year old Malaysian boy. We see him from the back as he stands, looking down the street in the evening. The scent of mooncakes and burning lantern oil fills the air in the street in Petaling Jaya where Wing Sun lives. Everything is aglow with the soft light of lanterns, their colors reflected in the puddles left by the afternoon rain. At least 6 vendors have pulled their carts up onto the sidewalks on both sides of the street, selling moon pies and other special treats. Several of Wing-Sun's neighborhood friends, some younger than he and some a little older, were standing around in a circle, waiting for him to come outside.
First century Jerusalem at the "gate beautiful" to the temple grounds. Peter and John were going up to the temple at the hour of prayer, the ninth hour. And a man lame from birth was being carried, whom they laid daily at the gate of the temple that is called the Beautiful Gate to ask alms of those entering the temple. Seeing Peter and John about to go into the temple, he asked to receive alms. And Peter directed his gaze at him, as did John, and said, “Look at us.” And he fixed his attention on them, expecting to receive something from them. But Peter said, “I have no silver and gold, but what I do have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!” And he took him by the right hand and raised him up, and immediately his feet and ankles were made strong.
First century Palestine. Mid-morning in a rural area. The sun is warm and the atmosphere is positive. Jesus and His disciples walk along a country road that goes to Bethany. There are some trees shading part of the road ahead, and cultivated fields on either side of the road. Jesus, wears ordinary clothing like most men, and He’s talking to His disciples as the walk along. The disciples are listening intently to Jesus, and His face is kind, but intense. A farm house sits off to one side, and the town is visible in the distance.
Nayoma washed his bowl and sat down in a meditative state. I’ll meditate first, then practice Bushin no Jutsu, then Body Flicker, then wall walking. After that, I’ll take a cold shower and sleep. He opened his eyes, jumped out of meditation, and formed the hand signs for Clone Jutsu. A puff of smoke appeared, and a clone popped up right in front of him. It wasn’t perfect — its earlobes were stretched oddly — but it was still a success. Well, not so perfect… but with time I’ll correct my mistakes. Hmn, I guess I really had it easier than Naruto. I’m sure even Kibe‑sensei couldn’t do this on his first try. The clone disappeared with a puff of smoke, leaving Nayoma standing there, satisfied but already thinking about the next step.
Morning inside the classroom at a private school in Kuala Lumpur before class begins. Students stand next to their desks as the teacher, standing in front, leads them in the usual morning recitations of the five national principles, their voices blending into one: "Kepercayaan kepada Tuhan." (Belief in God.) "Kesetiaan kepada Raja dan Negara." (Loyalty to the King and Country.) "Keluhuran Perlembagaan." (Supremacy of the Constitution.) "Kedaulatan Undang-Undang." (Rule of Law.) "Kesopanan dan Kesusilaan." (Courtesy and Morality.) Wing-Sun repeats the words automatically, his eyes drift across the classroom, catching a glimpse of Siu-Zi, the new girl, standing in her usual spot near the window.
The San Gorgonio Pass, Mt. San Gorgonio) rises in the North, all hoary-frost and granite. Snake-like clouds adorning her peak, I gaze past the big white house toward her uplifted boulders. And at the South, Mt. San Jacinto has lost his head in cloud. Burned bones against a blue sky backdrop. Between the two, another sunrise gleams and beams of brilliant, white-hot day flash forth: They accentuate the Sonora desert’s west extreme, and last night’s moon forgot to go away.
Father and Grandmother with Siu Zi leaving their home in a Guangzhou street in the dark of night. There is an air of secrecy. Siu Zi clutches her small bag, its contents little more than a few treasured keepsakes and faded photographs. Her father’s reassuring hand on her shoulder, and the soft presence of her grandmother at his side, give her the courage to move forward. A taxi waits down the street to take them to the train.
The San Gorgonio Pass, Mt. San Gorgonio) rises in the North, all hoary-frost and granite. Snake-like clouds adorning her peak, I gaze past the big white house toward her uplifted boulders. And at the South, Mt. San Jacinto has lost his head in cloud. Burned bones against a blue sky backdrop. Between the two, another sunrise gleams and beams of brilliant, white-hot day flash forth: They accentuate the Sonora desert’s west extreme, and last night’s moon, high up on the left, forgot to go away.
The San Gorgonio Pass, Mt. San Gorgonio) rises in the North, all hoary-frost and granite. Snake-like clouds adorning her peak, I gaze past the big white house toward her uplifted boulders. And at the South, Mt. San Jacinto has lost his head in cloud. Burned bones against a blue sky backdrop. Between the two, another sunrise gleams and beams of brilliant, white-hot day flash forth: They accentuate the Sonora desert’s west extreme, and last night’s moon forgot to go away.
Now, those captains must learn what the river will do when it makes that great turn out of sight. How it dashes them up on the rocks of the shore How it spins to the left and the right. It beats them and breaks them and crushes their pride Leaves them dizzy and sick and all jumbled inside ‘til they’ve all but forgotten that glorious ride lying flat on their deck in the sun. There they lie, drying out in the sun. As you round the point where the river was bent and survey the great wideness ahead, you can see all those captains alone on their decks, beat and broken and very near dead. Then the current takes hold and there’s naught you can do as it drags you down into its maw. Headed straight for those rocks, you make ready to crash but at last, you rise up, roll and yaw. Going back and away, then forward again, fearing each time, the rocks will prevail! You’re trapped in a cycling, circling tide, in an eddy withstanding a gale. But each time you circle that great whirling tide and you’ve not hit the rocks or been thrown to the side and you’re kept from the falls, cascading and wide, for the eddy’s small mercy give praise. Give the merciful currents your praise!
A highly realistic and historically accurate image set in the deep, waterlogged mud of the Texas Cross Timbers (Montague County) in 1840. The scene captures the frustrating moment when the Chihuahua Traders caravan is completely stuck. Foreground focus is on several heavy, wooden Conestoga freight wagons, mired up to their axles in dark, thick mud. Exhausted oxen are straining and distressed, their drivers in rough frontier attire attempting to free the wheels with ropes and levers. In the mid-ground, a small group of the American equestrian circus performers stands next to their distinctive, high-quality riding horses, which are visibly more refined than the typical pack animals. The performers are dressed in sturdy but distinct traveling clothes, looking ill-equipped and frustrated by the muddy conditions. One performer is carefully securing a colorful carriage or cart containing unique circus props, struggling to keep it from sinking. The overall mood is one of miserable delay and hardship. Cloudy, oppressive sky; detailed realism; wide-angle shot; dark, moody lighting.
A highly realistic and historically accurate image set in the deep, waterlogged mud of the Texas Cross Timbers (Montague County) in 1840. The scene captures the frustrating moment when the Chihuahua Traders caravan is completely stuck. Foreground focus is on several heavy, wooden Conestoga freight wagons, mired up to their axles in dark, thick mud. Exhausted oxen are straining and distressed, their drivers in rough frontier attire attempting to free the wheels with ropes and levers. In the mid-ground, a small group of the American equestrian circus performers stands next to their distinctive, high-quality riding horses, which are visibly more refined than the typical pack animals. The performers are dressed in sturdy but distinct traveling clothes, looking ill-equipped and frustrated by the muddy conditions. One performer is carefully securing a colorful carriage or cart containing unique circus props, struggling to keep it from sinking. The overall mood is one of miserable delay and hardship. Cloudy, oppressive sky; detailed realism; wide-angle shot; dark, moody lighting.
The San Gorgonio Pass, Mt. San Gorgonio) rises in the North, all hoary-frost and granite. Snake-like clouds adorning her peak, I gaze past the big white house toward her uplifted boulders. And at the South, Mt. San Jacinto has lost his head in cloud. Burned bones against a blue sky backdrop. Between the two, another sunrise gleams and beams of brilliant, white-hot day flash forth: They accentuate the Sonora desert’s west extreme, and last night’s moon, high up on the left, forgot to go away.
A highly realistic and historically accurate image set in the deep, waterlogged mud of the Texas Cross Timbers (Montague County) in 1840. The scene captures the frustrating moment when the Chihuahua Traders caravan is completely stuck. Foreground focus is on several heavy, wooden Conestoga freight wagons, mired up to their axles in dark, thick mud. Exhausted oxen are straining and distressed, their drivers in rough frontier attire attempting to free the wheels with ropes and levers. In the mid-ground, a small group of the American equestrian circus performers stands next to their distinctive, high-quality riding horses, which are visibly more refined than the typical pack animals. The performers are dressed in sturdy but distinct traveling clothes, looking ill-equipped and frustrated by the muddy conditions. One performer is carefully securing a colorful carriage or cart containing unique circus props, struggling to keep it from sinking. The overall mood is one of miserable delay and hardship. Cloudy, oppressive sky; detailed realism; wide-angle shot; dark, moody lighting.
A highly realistic and historically accurate image set in the deep, waterlogged mud of the Texas Cross Timbers (Montague County) in 1840. The scene captures the frustrating moment when the Chihuahua Traders caravan is completely stuck. Foreground focus is on several heavy, wooden Conestoga freight wagons, mired up to their axles in dark, thick mud. Exhausted oxen are straining and distressed, their drivers in rough frontier attire attempting to free the wheels with ropes and levers. In the mid-ground, a small group of the American equestrian circus performers stands next to their distinctive, high-quality riding horses, which are visibly more refined than the typical pack animals. The performers are dressed in sturdy but distinct traveling clothes, looking ill-equipped and frustrated by the muddy conditions. One performer is carefully securing a colorful carriage or cart containing unique circus props, struggling to keep it from sinking. The overall mood is one of miserable delay and hardship. Cloudy, oppressive sky; detailed realism; wide-angle shot; dark, moody lighting.
First century Palestine. Jesus walks away from the camera along a road that goes through town with several of His disciples. Jesus wears a plain robe like most ordinary men. The other people are dressed like peasants, farmers, and tradesmen. There are also women in the group, wearing plain, everyday clothing. Some children are playing near the roadside. Merchants are selling their goods in booths along the road. There are houses along the road also. The road goes upward toward the Temple in the far distance.
Now, those captains must learn what the river will do when it makes that great turn out of sight. How it dashes them up on the rocks of the shore How it spins to the left and the right. It beats them and breaks them and crushes their pride Leaves them dizzy and sick and all jumbled inside ‘til they’ve all but forgotten that glorious ride lying flat on their deck in the sun. There they lie, drying out in the sun. As you round the point where the river was bent and survey the great wideness ahead, you can see all those captains alone on their decks, beat and broken and very near dead. Then the current takes hold and there’s naught you can do as it drags you down into its maw. Headed straight for those rocks, you make ready to crash but at last, you rise up, roll and yaw. Going back and away, then forward again, fearing each time, the rocks will prevail! You’re trapped in a cycling, circling tide, in an eddy withstanding a gale. But each time you circle that great whirling tide and you’ve not hit the rocks or been thrown to the side and you’re kept from the falls, cascading and wide, for the eddy’s small mercy give praise. Give the merciful currents your praise!
First century Palestine. Jesus walking away from the camera with 2 of His disciples. The Temple sits high on a hill in the distance with the road going up to it. Merchants and houses line the road. People are coming and going both ways.
“Now after the death of Moses the servant of the LORD it came to pass, that the LORD spake unto Joshua the son of Nun, Moses' minister, saying, Moses my servant is dead; now therefore arise, go over this Jordan, thou, and all this people, unto the land which I do give to them, even to the children of Israel. Every place that the sole of your foot shall tread upon, that have I given unto you, as I said unto Moses. From the wilderness and this Lebanon even unto the great river, the river Euphrates, all the land of the Hittites, and unto the great sea toward the going down of the sun, shall be your coast.” (Joshua 1:1-4, KJV)
Volume 1 – Chapter 1: “Running Away” Story Points: Ji Hun is bored and unhappy with his life in the band “Forever.” Inner thoughts reveal his frustration and desire to escape. He decides to run away; changes his appearance with a ginger curly wig and glasses to hide his identity. Ji Hun sneaks out, but security guards notice him and start chasing him. While running, he accidentally bumps into Min Joon, a girl with long curly black hair, wearing a hoodie and baggy jeans. They fall on the ground. Min Joon helps him up and insists on taking him to her home to relax. She offers him tea and biscuits; they start talking. Ji Hun lies and says his name is “Jin” and that he is an accountant. He notices posters of his band “Forever” in her room and realizes she is a fan. Min Joon praises Ji Hun’s voice, making him shy. Ji Hun talks about never enjoying life; Min Joon promises to teach him how to enjoy life. Ji Hun hesitates, worried about being recognized, but she reassures him. He agrees to go with her. Min Joon prepares to take him outside, setting up the transition to Chapter 2 (car ride and amusement park). Page/Panel Flow Suggestions: Pages 1–3: Ji Hun’s frustration, morning in the band dorm, decision to escape. Pages 4–5: Ji Hun changing disguise. Pages 6–8: Running and being chased by security guards. Pages 9–12: Collision with Min Joon, first meeting. Pages 13–16: Min Joon taking him home, tea and biscuits scene. Pages 17–20: Conversation about Ji Hun’s unhappiness, Min Joon promising to show him joy.
A dramatic Soviet-style propaganda poster. Depict a poor, sad working-class man in worn clothes, with a tired but dignified expression on his face. He stands in the foreground, slightly turned toward the viewer. In the background: a large industrial factory with smokestacks, heavy machinery, and dark smoke rising into the sky. The atmosphere is serious, emotional, and ideological — showing hardship, struggle, and hope for liberation. Strong socialist realism style inspired by classic USSR propaganda posters from the 1930s–1950s. Bold shapes, high contrast, limited color palette (red, black, beige, muted yellow). Sharp lines, heroic composition, dramatic lighting. Add a bold propaganda slogan in clear, vintage typography: “Proletariusze Piri-Piri — nie jesteście sami!” The text should be prominent and integrated into the poster design. No modern elements, no realism photography — illustrated, painterly propaganda art style.
a man in suspenders and a white shirt is holding his hands up