The founding series, launched on September 1, 1992 by Peter David and Rick Leonardi, remains essential. The same screenwriter takes up the character during the relaunches of the July 9, 2014 and of October 14, 2015 , drawn by Will Sliney. Then come the collective publications of the line (1993, 1995, 1996, 1998), then the stories after 2020, including a series launched on May 25, 2022 . Rare feature: thirty years of publication under the same pen.
This file has been relaunched four times, each relaunch starting from number 1. On paper, this is the recipe for illegible continuity.
However, it is not, and for a reason that we rarely encounter:the same author comes back each time. It is therefore not the numbering which ensures the coherence of the character, it is a voice.
A continuity that hangs on a feather
Let us first state the fact, because it guides the entire reading.
The catalog allows you to verify this directly: the same name appears in the credits of the first issue of 1992, that of July 2014 and that of October 2015. Twenty-three years separate the first from the last.
This is almost a unique situation. On most characters, a relaunch means a change of team, therefore a reinterpretation — and the reader must decide which version he considers to be the correct one. Here, the question does not arise.
Three consequences for anyone approaching this issue.
No version should be ruled out. The relaunches do not contradict the original series: they extend it, with the same vocabulary and the same concerns. You can read everything without ever feeling like you're changing characters.
The chronological order works perfectly. This is far from always being the case — on many issues, it is better to start with a late run. Not here.
Zero restarts are misleading. A number 1 does not signal a new narrative departure but a commercial decision. Don't rely on the numbering to spot breaks — there aren't any.
1992-1996: the founding series
The first issue hits the shelves on September 1, 1992 , priced at $1.75. Peter David writing, Rick Leonardi draw.
The project consisted of using a famous name to tell something else: a distant future where a few companies share power, and where a researcher unwillingly becomes the heir to a hundred-year-old symbol.
Success comes down to two choices.
The character does not imitate his model. No spider bite, no founding guilt, no contemporary New York. He shares a name and a silhouette, nothing else — which leaves the story free.
The decor is treated seriously. David constructs a coherent world, with its language, its hierarchies and its ordinary violence. Science fiction is not a cover-up but the subject.
Leonardi, for his part, delivers what remains the best visual work on the file. His costume – sharp angles, skull motif, irregularly cut cape – is immediately identifiable and has never been substantially modified since. Few creations from the 1990s can say the same.
This series can be read in one go and can be found for almost nothing, as detailed in ourrating analysis.
Collective publications, and the trap they set
The character belonged to a line of titles sharing the same universe. This line has produced its own transversal publications: the catalog records some in 1993 , 1995 , 1996 and 1998.
You have to know what you find there before buying, because these objects often disappoint.
Periodical collections bring together short stories dedicated to several characters from the line. Those which concern our hero occupy a reduced portion, and they are generally anecdotal.
Transversal events pose a different problem: they make all the series converge towards a common situation, which makes their episodes difficult to understand in isolation. Reading one of them without knowing the other titles is like watching the end of a conversation.
Our advice is therefore clear:save these posts for a second time. They enrich the knowledge of the universe, they add nothing to that of the character, and they unnecessarily complicate a first reading.
2014-2015: the character changes era
After a long absence, two consecutive series bring back the character, under the same pen, with Will Sliney to the drawing. The first appears from July 9, 2014 , the second from October 14, 2015, both at $3.99.
Their discovery consists of reversing the original proposition: instead of telling the future, they bring the character into the present.
The move works better than you might fear, and for a reason. A man from a world of megastructures and permanent surveillance casts a gaze on our time that makes it strange – the classic traveler's technique, employed here with finesse.
These series are lighter than that of 1992, more focused on humor and interactions. It is an assumed choice, which will please some readers and frustrate others.
Sliney draws in an efficient and readable register, without trying to imitate his predecessor. The costume remains intact.
After 2020: recovery and its aftermath
The character then returns at short intervals. The catalog records several publications at the turn of the 2020s, then a series launched on May 25, 2022, and two more in 2023 and 2024.
These stories accompany the new visibility of the character among a wide audience. They are uneven, often designed as entry points for readers coming from screens, and they require less prior knowledge than the previous ones.
Two practical remarks.
They are not a prerequisite. A reader who is discovering the character has no need to start there, despite their availability in bookstores.
They multiply the covers. The 2022 series has six variations for its opening number alone, including one from a video game license. Unimportant for reading, but confusing to buy - we devote aseparate guide.
A dated future, and why it does no harm
An objection systematically comes up among readers who discover the original series: its future has aged.
That's right, and it's worth knowing. The future imagined in 1992 bears the marks of its time — an aesthetic inherited from the science fiction cinema of the previous decade, thick screens, computing designed before the domestic use of the network, and very 1990s concerns about corporate power.
However, this dating is much less disturbing than one would expect, for three reasons.
Failed predictions are not the point. The series does not seek to guess the future: it uses an extrapolated setting to talk about a man caught between his employer and his conscience. This conflict never goes out of fashion.
Some intuitions have aged well. The idea of companies exercising functions formerly subject to public authority, or that of a population constantly evaluated, reads differently today than in 1992 - and not in the sense of implausibility.
Graphics embraces its time. A dated drawing that accepts its bias ages better than a drawing that tried to appear timeless. Leonardi's boards visibly belong to the 1990s, and this is precisely what gives them their character today.
In other words: read this series as an object of its time, not as an anticipation to be corrected. This is the best way to enjoy it.
What this character gained from losing his line
Let us end with an observation which explains its longevity, and which goes beyond the particular case.
The futuristic universe to which he belonged had several series. Almost all of them disappeared at the end of the 1990s, and have only been revived sporadically since then.
He alone survived, and we have to wonder why.
The answer lies in an initial imbalance. Most of the titles in this line were based on a transposition: take an existing figure and dress it in the future. The process produces a curiosity, rarely a character. As soon as the novelty wears off, there's nothing left.
This was based on something else: a specific man, with a job, a family, an employer and a moral problem. The future was the setting of a situation, not the situation itself.
A transposition gets old; a character ages with his reader. This is what allowed him to be brought back when all his contemporaries had become period curiosities.
In what order to read
The recommended route: the 1992 series, in order, in collections. Nothing else is needed to understand the character, and this is the best of what's out there.
If you come from the screens: start with 1992 anyway. The contrast with the animated version is considerable, and this is precisely what makes it interesting to read.
To go further: the two series from 2014 and 2015, which show the character confronted with our times. Save the collective posts of the line for last, if you are interested in the universe itself.
A reservation on the collections, finally, because it directly concerns the reading order. The reissues of the original series are divided into volumes which do not always coincide with the narrative arcs, and some integrate episodes from the collective publications of the line. So you can fall into the middle of a cross event without being prepared. Nothing serious, but it's better to know where the break in tone comes from rather than believing in a writing fault.
Its beginnings and their identification pitfalls are the subject of aseparate study.
What readers want to know
By that of 1992, launched on September 1 at the price of 1.75 dollars, written by Peter David and drawn by Rick Leonardi. This is the best that exists about this character, it can be read in one sitting, and nothing else is necessary to understand it. Prefer the collections, which are much more economical.
No, and this is the particularity of the file: the same screenwriter returns each time, in 2014 as in 2015. Twenty-three years separate the first issue from the last of these relaunches. No version can therefore be ruled out, the chronological order works perfectly, and the restarts at number 1 are commercial decisions, not narrative breaks.
They invert the original proposition by bringing the character into the present, which works well: a man from a world of permanent surveillance looks at our time in a way that makes it strange. The tone is lighter, more focused on humor. Will Sliney draws there effectively, without trying to imitate his predecessor.
Not on first reading. The periodical collections only give a small portion to this character, and the transversal events make all the series converge towards a common situation, which makes them incomprehensible in isolation. They enrich the knowledge of the universe, not that of the character.
Because the other titles were based on a transposition – taking an existing figure and dressing it up as a future – which produces a curiosity rather than a character. As soon as the novelty wears off, there's nothing left. It was based on a specific man, with a job, a family and a moral problem, the future being only the decor of a situation.
Absolutely not. The character shares with his model only a name and a silhouette: neither spider bite, nor founding guilt, nor contemporary New York. This is precisely what left the story free, and it made the series accessible to a reader who would never have opened a comic before.
They accompany the new visibility of the character and are often designed as entry points for an audience coming from the screens. They therefore assume less prior knowledge, but they are unequal and in no way constitute a prerequisite. A reader new to the character has no reason to start there.
No, and that’s remarkable. Rick Leonardi's design — sharp angles, skull motif, irregularly cut cape — has never been substantially modified since 1992, through four relaunches and several designers. Few creations from the 1990s can say the same.
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