OK, first we shall mention the ONLY saving grace in this wretched piece of trash - the artwork. Artwork is reminiscent of Jack Kirby, Shaky Kane, and Love & Rockets. That means it uses a lot of black ink in a blocky style. Now let's examine why it goes so terribly wrong. Firstly we have three teenage protagonists who all tried to "unalive themselves" on the same day (it's Japan, I suppose). One is the token homosexual, one is beaten by her dad, one is the token "outsider" from a fictional country, imaginatively called "Y". Yes, it is called "Y". And surprise, surprise - they all gain superpowers!Hurrah for suicide!
They all have a surly and petulant attitude, protruding lower lips, and permanent scowls too.
The token gay guy is the "Poochie" of the story. HE HAS A SKATEBOARD! HE LIKES TERRIBLE 1980s UK PUNK BANDS! HE HAS MOAR ATTITUDE THAN SHADOW THE HEDHGEHOG!...and he has a bowlcut too, which may explain why his microphone-headed friend rejected his homosexual advances.
The three outcasts are extremely unlikeable, but so is everyone and everything in this strip.
Now, the opposition - the two major opponents have the imaginative names of "Thunder Man and Lightning Girl", who are taking orders from the corrupt mayor, and don't ask many questions about what they do. There's also various police officers too, as fodder for all to play with.
Now, the problem I've got with this strip isn't the politics promulgated - because there isn't any. It's just sheer nihilism for the sake of it, and it swiftly becomes tedious - too many pages are devoted to someone or other, suspended in midair, making some claw-like gesture betokening their superduperpowers.
So where is the message?
There isn't any - it actually looks that the aim of the creators was to make the reader as apathetic about whether or not the world can or should be saved at all, because there is not one solitary character worth liking, nor is there a single moment's self-reflection, apart the "woe is me - they rejected me - but we'll show 'em!" stuff.
Now, this MIGHT have gained some niche following in the 1980s but in 2026, it just looks like what it actually is - badly-written juvenile rubbish.
If you are 12 or under, wear black nail varnish and slam your bedroom door a lot, whining how "THEY DOAN UNNASTAAAAND!" this MIGHT appeal to you, but I don't know if I can be bothered to carry on after 41 episodes. I suppose I read it to this point to see if SOME little ray of positivity could shine upon this monochrome mess, but I won't hold my breath.