THE SACRIFICERS #17 – New Comic Review

The Sacrificers #17, by Image Comics on 11/19/25, asks: if you rebuild a broken world with broken gods, where does the needle mend and where does the hook tear?

Credits:

• Writer: Rick Remender
• Artist: Max Fiumara
• Colorist: Dave McCaig
• Letterer: Rus Wooton
• Cover Artist: Max Fiumara, Dave McCaig (cover A)
• Publisher: Image Comics
• Release Date: November 19, 2025
• Comic Rating: Teen
• Cover Price: $3.99
• Page Count: 32
• Format: Single Issue

Covers:

Analysis of THE SACRIFICERS #17:

First Impressions:

The opening strikes a regal chord, but quickly lets slip a coiled tension: old allegiances, ritual applause, and a daughter’s return. The air instantly feels heavy with expectation, straining to hide bruised histories beneath courtly ceremony. At page two, the gut says any toast here could blister your lips on secrets, and the concept wastes no time wringing heat from that premise.

Recap:

In The Sacrificers #16, Soluna led a desperate scramble to save the Sacrificer children from her father’s inferno. As gods warred and chaos consumed the realm, betrayal simmered among allies, and each character teetered between survival, vengeance, and the lie of mercy. Kronious and Rokos let old grudges erupt, Beatrice tried and failed to save her brother Pigeon, who was swallowed by anger and trauma. The issue ended on Soluna pondering godhood, Rokos pleading for forgiveness, and Pigeon bitterly rejecting noble sacrifice as perpetual loss. In the ruins, hope felt charred.

Plot Analysis:

The story opens one year after the carnage, with Soluna returning to a harrowed royal house. She’s hailed by gods and royals in a brittle aria of applause. Ceremony masks exhaustion, and the wardrobe mistress’s reminiscences about Soluna’s parents offer a small, needle-sharp lesson: to mend what tears, sometimes you must become the hook, not just the needle.

Soluna faces her father, Rokos, whose scorched reign demands the ritual of public renewal. Kronious is gone, branded as a mad traitor, and the people are starving from ideological wounds and blighted fields left by the last insurrection. Rokos claims to rebuild by fire, with Soluna as the figurehead of deliverance, handing her the honor of leading the state’s ceremonial sacrifice.

In the high hall, Soluna denounces old hubris and admits the weight borne by those wielding power. Yet, as she leads the toast “to order,” the gaslight centuries twist: she refuses the cup, exposing the ritual as a poison, not a blessing. The crowd erupts in mortal agony and betrayal as Soluna upends the world order, challenging her father’s system that demands children die for the realm’s survival.

The issue closes on revolution. Soluna declares an end to the reign of divine cruelty, vowing to build a world where living beings, not gods or royal dogmas, take their due. The fires go out, and the foundation of Harlos burns; the age of living begins anew, with old tyrants left screaming at their own emptiness.

Story

Remender’s script is loaded with dense ceremonial dialogue: sometimes baroque, never lazy. Pacing charges forward with little meandering, and the structure cleverly plaits ritual, flashback, and uprising in a single unified narrative loop. Lyrical refrains about needles, hooks, and the cost of mending give the story a thematic edge, though a twelve-year-old may need a parent to explain the metaphors. At a minimum, every scene earns its space, and exposition rarely strangles the momentum.

Art

Max Fiumara’s art, colored by Dave McCaig, boasts crisp linework and compositions that turn stately halls into foreboding, almost haunted spaces. The visual clarity sells both grandeur and despair, with lavish, bold layouts for ceremonial scenes melting into claustrophobic panels during the violent upheaval. McCaig’s color palette flips between candlelit golds and diseased reds, amplifying both warmth and threat. Every emotion – regal pride, gnawing guilt, raw fear – bleeds through the pages without visual noise.

Characters

Characters know why they act, and most reveal more vulnerability than vanity. Soluna’s motivation is stitched with regret, duty, and her parents’ old lessons, while Rokos embodies brittle strength built on denial. Secondary characters like Fleeb and Fniff act with just enough personality and backstory, loyalty and loss, scars and sarcasm to ground them in the new reality. Relatability may dip for readers under 12, due to the mythic scale, but motivations snap into focus with every torn allegiance.

Originality & Concept Execution

The comic takes the standard trope of the sacrificial princess and upends it, making the core idea of order built on suffering a hard measure for change. Delivering the series’ biggest twists at the start of the arc, not the end, is bold and pays off in narrative tension. Freshness is real: gods and mortals clash with a brutality and emotional honesty rarely seen in fantasy comics. The concept, for all its grandeur, lands on a readable and investable premise: what do we owe to those who suffer for us, and who gets to decide the cost?

Positives

The comic excels in visual storytelling, balancing detailed environmental art with distinct, high-impact character expressions. Writing maintains an aggressive pace, refusing to let ceremony become a slog. The story uses its mythic setting to make sharp points about power and sacrifice, never losing the reader in vagueness. Theme and character arcs mesh well, and the strategic placement of major plot turns rewards faithful readers without cheap shock. Above all, it’s clear the creators have a conviction that resonates from panel to panel.

Negatives

Density of dialogue risks muddying the water for younger readers or those seeking instant gratification. The emotional complexity, while ambitious, sometimes threatens to overcomplicate simple truths. A few supporting characters wander near the realm of underdevelopment, serving more as thematic props than living personalities. The finale, while cathartic, leaves several threads such as Beatrice’s fate dangling in uncertainty, which might frustrate those who crave clean closure. This is not a quick, breezy read.

Art Samples:

The Scorecard: Measurable Value Assessment

Writing Quality (Clarity & Pacing): [3.5/4]
Art Quality (Execution & Synergy): [4/4]
Value (Originality & Entertainment): [1.5/2]

Final Thoughts:

(Click this link 👇 to order this comic)

THE SACRIFICERS #17 doesn’t ask permission. It carves up old power, stitches a new banner, and tells anyone yearning for bland fantasy to drink elsewhere. It’s not flawless: some narrative threads fray at the ends, and the mythic grandeur can leave smaller characters adrift. Still, for discerning readers who love a comic that balances heart, politics, and spectacle without pulling punches, this chapter is not just another entry. It’s the very definition of why you keep a pull list when others would rather sleep on bland comfort.

---

---

---

As an Amazon Associate, we earn revenue from qualifying purchases to help fund this site. Links to Blu-Rays, DVDs, Books, Movies, and more contained in this article are affiliate links. Please consider purchasing if you find something interesting, and thank you for your support.