Steel bent around him like it remembered fear. Concrete cracked beneath his boots like it owed him something. And when the energy inside him started to rise—when that low, vibrating hum crawled up his spine—people stopped asking questions and started running.

Raze didn’t remember where he came from.

That was the first problem.

The second problem was that someone else did.

The city was a monument to excess—glass towers reflecting neon skies, alleys dripping with steam, graffiti layered over decades of forgotten wars. It looked like a comic panel frozen mid-explosion. Every shadow had a story. Every rooftop had seen blood.

And Raze walked through it like a ghost wrapped in muscle and rage.

His jacket—torn, sleeveless, black leather—hung off him like it had survived worse than bullets. Underneath, his body pulsed faintly with that same internal energy, veins glowing dim orange like magma beneath stone.

He didn’t sleep much.

Didn’t need to.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashes.

Not dreams.

Fragments.

A lab.

Hands on glass.

A voice saying, “Subject is stabilizing.”

Then pain. Always pain.

“You’re burning again.”

The voice came from behind him.

Raze didn’t turn.

“I told you not to sneak up on me,” he said.

She stepped into view anyway—Nyx. Long coat, silver hair, eyes that caught light like mirrors. She wasn’t human. Not entirely. No one in this city really was.

“You glow when you’re about to lose control,” she said. “It’s not subtle.”

“I’m not losing control.”

“You cracked the street three blocks back.”

“That street had it coming.”

She smirked. “Yeah. I’m sure the asphalt started it.”

Raze exhaled slowly, trying to push the energy down. It didn’t listen. It never did.

“You find anything?” he asked.

Nyx tossed him a data chip. “Old records. Corporate archives. The usual buried sins.”

He caught it without looking.

“Name attached?” he asked.

She hesitated.

“That bad?” he said.

“Worse,” she replied. “It’s not just a company.”

Raze turned now.

“Try me.”

Nyx met his eyes.

“It’s a program.”

The word hung in the air like a gunshot.

Raze felt something twist in his chest—not pain, not exactly. Recognition.

“Program for what?” he asked.

Nyx crossed her arms.

“Weaponization.”

The flash hit him instantly.

A room filled with tanks. Bodies floating in fluid. Wires threading into flesh.

His flesh.

Raze staggered, grabbing his head.

“They made you,” Nyx said quietly. “Or tried to.”

“Shut up,” he growled.

“They engineered abilities. Enhanced physiology. Energy manipulation—”

“I said shut up!”

The ground beneath him cracked, spiderweb fractures racing outward. A parked car nearby lifted slightly off its tires as the air distorted.

Nyx didn’t move.

“You wanted answers,” she said. “That’s what this is.”

Raze’s breathing turned sharp, uneven.

“They don’t get to decide what I am,” he said.

“They already tried,” she replied.

The city alarm screamed before the drones even appeared.

Black shapes slicing through the sky, red optics scanning, locking.

Raze looked up.

“Guess they found me first,” he muttered.

Nyx sighed. “You have a real talent for subtlety.”

The first blast hit the pavement beside them, sending debris into the air.

Raze didn’t dodge the second.

He caught it.

Energy slammed into his palm—then stopped.

For a second, everything went silent.

Then it reversed.

The blast folded inward, collapsing into a sphere of burning light in his hand.

Nyx’s eyes widened.

“Raze—”

Too late.

He threw it.

The explosion ripped through the sky, taking three drones with it in a bloom of fire and shattered metal.

Raze grinned.

“That felt good.”

More drones descended.

Dozens this time.

Nyx pulled twin blades from beneath her coat, their edges glowing with a cold, blue light.

“This is the part where we run,” she said.

Raze cracked his neck.

“This is the part where they try to make me.”

He launched upward—no jump, just raw force.

The air screamed as he tore through it, colliding with the first drone in a burst of sparks and twisted alloy. His fists moved like they’d done this before—because they had.

Training.

Conditioning.

Programming.

Each strike was precise. Efficient. Brutal.

Below, Nyx moved like a shadow come alive, cutting through machines with fluid grace, her blades leaving trails of frozen light.

The street became a battlefield.

Panels of chaos.

Explosions. Motion lines. Impact frames.

Pure 90s energy.

Raze grabbed a drone mid-flight, crushed it in one hand, and used the remains to smash another out of the sky.

But they kept coming.

Always more.

Always escalating.

“Raze!” Nyx shouted. “This isn’t random—they’re testing you!”

He paused mid-air.

Testing.

The word clicked.

“They’re watching,” he said.

“Yeah,” Nyx replied. “And you’re giving them exactly what they want.”

Raze looked at his hands.

At the energy building again.

At the destruction.

At the pattern.

“They want a weapon,” he said slowly.

Nyx nodded.

“So stop acting like one.”

The next drone fired.

Raze didn’t catch it.

Didn’t throw it back.

He let it hit him.

The blast slammed into his chest, sending him crashing into the ground.

Smoke rose.

Silence.

Nyx froze.

“Raze…?”

For a moment, nothing moved.

Then—

He stood.

Slower this time.

Calmer.

The glow inside him dimmed—not gone, but controlled.

Focused.

“They don’t get to write me,” he said.

The drones adjusted.

New formation.

New strategy.

Adaptive.

Raze smiled.

“Good,” he said.

What followed wasn’t chaos.

It was control.

Every movement deliberate. Every strike measured. He didn’t overpower them—he dismantled them.

He moved like he understood the system.

Because he did.

Because he was the system.

Minutes later, the sky was empty.

Wreckage rained down.

The street looked like a war zone.

Raze stood in the center of it, breathing steady.

Nyx approached slowly.

“That was new,” she said.

Raze nodded.

“Yeah,” he replied. “It was.”

She studied him.

“You remember more now, don’t you?”

He looked at the horizon.

At the city.

At everything waiting.

“Enough,” he said.

“Then what are you going to do?” she asked.

Raze cracked his knuckles.

A faint glow returned—but this time, it stayed contained.

“Same thing I’ve been doing,” he said.

Nyx raised an eyebrow.

“Breaking things?”

Raze smirked.

“No.”

He looked straight ahead.

“Choosing what doesn’t break me.”

Somewhere far away, behind reinforced glass and layers of security, someone watched the footage.

Paused it.

Replayed it.

Zoomed in.

“Subject Raze,” the voice said. “Phase Two successful.”

A second voice responded.

“And Phase Three?”

The first voice smiled.

“We push him further.”

Back in the city, Raze and Nyx walked into the neon glow.

Not heroes.

Not villains.

Something else.

Something unfinished.

And somewhere deep inside him—

The program waited.

MODEL INFORMATION (≈1000 words)

Model Name: GENESIS PANEL // 90s COMIC CHAOS
Base Model: Illustratious
Type: LoRA
Style Focus: 1990s American comic book art (high-intensity, dynamic panel composition)

CORE STYLE

This LoRA is trained to reproduce the peak visual energy of 1990s comic book illustration, drawing heavy influence from the era that defined modern superhero aesthetics:

• Hyper-detailed musculature

• Extreme anatomy exaggeration

• Dynamic posing and forced perspective

• Heavy inks, bold linework, and dramatic shadows

• High-contrast coloring with vibrant saturation

• Panel-style composition (even in single images)

• “Splash page” energy — every image feels like a full comic moment

The model captures the visual DNA of artists associated with the explosive era of Image Comics and Marvel in the 90s, including stylistic echoes of:

• Sharp angular faces

• Aggressive cross-hatching

• Flowing capes, belts, straps, and unnecessary but iconic details

• Over-the-top weapons and power effects

• Hair that defies gravity

TRAINING DATA

The LoRA was trained on a curated dataset of approximately:

• High-resolution scans of 90s comic panels

• Stylized fan art inspired by that era

• Cinematic stills influenced by comic aesthetics

• Character-focused compositions with strong silhouette readability

• Action-heavy frames with motion emphasis

Special attention was given to:

• Panel density (multi-character compositions)

• Motion lines and impact effects

• Lighting contrast (rim lighting, glow effects, dramatic shadows)

• Costume complexity and texture layering

WHAT IT DOES BEST

This LoRA excels at generating:

• Superhero and anti-hero characters

• Comic-style action scenes

• Full “page-like” compositions even in single images

• Highly stylized anatomy and posing

• Energetic battle moments

• Cinematic comic stills

• Original characters that feel like they belong in a 90s comic universe

PROMPTING GUIDE

Recommended trigger words:

• 90s comic style

• dynamic pose

• comic panel

• inked lines

• high contrast shading

• muscular anatomy

• dramatic lighting

• splash page

Example prompt:

90s comic style, dynamic pose, anti-hero character, glowing energy hands, torn costume, dramatic lighting, heavy ink lines, high contrast shadows, comic panel composition, detailed muscles, cinematic angle

NEGATIVE PROMPTS

To avoid unwanted styles:

• realistic photo

• soft lighting

• minimal detail

• anime style (unless intentionally blending)

• low contrast

• flat shading

SETTINGS

• Weight: 0.6 – 1.0 recommended

• Sampler: DPM++ 2M Karras (recommended)

• Steps: 20–35

• CFG: 5–8

Higher weights increase stylization but may exaggerate anatomy further.

KNOWN BEHAVIOR

• Tends toward exaggerated proportions (intentional)

• Adds extra costume elements (belts, straps, armor details)

• Strong preference for dramatic lighting and contrast

• May “frame” compositions like comic panels automatically

• Frequently introduces motion and energy effects even when not explicitly prompted

USE CASES

• Original comic character creation

• Storyboarding action scenes

• Concept art for games or comics

• Fan art in a classic 90s style

• Stylized cinematic illustrations

CREATOR NOTES

This LoRA is built to capture a very specific feeling:

Not realism.

Not subtlety.

But impact.

Every image should feel like:

• A page you paused on

• A moment frozen mid-explosion

• A character introduction that hits instantly

The goal is not accuracy—it’s energy.

FINAL NOTE

This is not a passive style.

It pushes.

It exaggerates.

It transforms even simple prompts into something louder, sharper, and more aggressive.

If you want quiet images, this is not the model.

If you want something that looks like it came straight out of a lost 90s comic run—

This is it.