Trojan introduces us to a world much like our own; people are divided between haves and have-nots, subcultures are treated with aggression and violence, and the conceit of love is looked upon with disdain. The biggest difference is that here the prominent subculture consists of mythical beings known as Legends. Comprised of centaurs, gnomes, gorgons and more, these creatures once co-existed with humanity, until their power and beauty forced mankind to reveal its ugly and horrific nature. Once revered, these magical creatures now skulk in the shadows for fear of discovery by the folks who wouldn’t hesitate to torture and kill those who are different.

One such Legend is Nessa, a beautiful and mysterious girl with majestic faerie wings who has a plan to turn the tide in this Cold War between the ordinary and extraordinary. Nessa’ s plan involves a junkie hacker named Dirk, whose near-master of navigating the Dark Web is instrumental in helping her discover a Legend-trafficking ring that profits off the live-streaming deaths of the fantastic creatures. Fortunately Nessa isn’t nearly as helpless as she seems but both she and Dirk will need to rely on each other and their own inner strength in order to survive what’s coming.

With Trojan, writer Daniel Kraus has a lot to say about the state of our own world and doesn’t hold back, even if the message is heavy-handed at times. The Legends, oft-referred to by the derogatory slur of “fey”, have gone from performing miracles and magic to being driven to the fringes of society by a world that hates and fears them. The comparisons to many oppressed cultures, particularly immigrants and the queer community, are obvious. As if that weren’t enough, Kraus manages to cram in a third-act argument against our reliance on technology and the dangers of the digital age; in fact, if you focus solely on the villain’s monologue, you’d almost swear it was about NFTs. It’s not that there isn’t enough room to explore both analogies but one tends to overshadow the other, resulting in a narrative that is more disjointed than cohesive.

The concept is solid, with the monsters-living-among-us angle being used to great effect without relying on the standard tropes we see in genre television and movies. Much of the world-building is expository however, as we only get the briefest of glances to how the world was when mankind and Legends lived together. That, combined with the melodramatic dialogue and seriously dark tone, makes for a reading experience that is not entirely pleasant, but then I get the impression that that’s kind of the point. As it is, we’re dropped into a world that is gritty and dark without a trace of humor or heart. And I mean, this book is seriously dark; one particular scene involving an elf, bearing a striking resemblance to Dobby, is at once heartbreaking and sickening, with his method of survival bordering on gratuitous. Fortunately, the lead characters each have a compelling enough journey to keep readers invested til the end.

The art, by newcomer Laci, is just tremendous. He counters the grim and gritty tone with a grace that is achingly beautiful as much as it is ugly. This same contrast can be found in the depiction of Legends and ordinary humans. His designs for the various creatures remains grounded and fantastic at the same time. As a non-human faerie, Nessa is gorgeous beyond reason, but Laci manages to portray her in a grounded, seemingly realistic way. The rest of the cast doesn’t fare as well, with Dirk’s appearances being wildly inconsistent from chapter to chapter. The colors by Marco Lesko complement Laci’s art perfectly, with excellent use of light and shadows throughout.