If art does indeed imitate life, it shouldn’t be all that surprising that today’s comic books feature oil-suckers alongside blood-suckers. Image Comics, the Portland-based publisher behind hit titles including The Walking Dead and Saga, touts its Dark Fang volumes as its “ecological action series.”

The first installment of the climate-change-centric series, created by writer Miles Gunter and illustrator Kelsey Shannon and released in November, introduced readers to Valla the vampire, who was a fisherwoman prior to her transformation into one among the undead. Once freed from the bounds of morality, Valla moved to the dark depths of the ocean, which, when you think about it, is probably prime real estate for vampires—they don’t need to breathe, they’re never subjected to direct sunlight, they can swim endlessly, and (this is probably the most important part) no one is around to notice any of it. Dark Fang’s fifth and latest volume was released on Wednesday, wrapping up the series’ first story arc with a deus ex machina that will leave the reader guessing until the next installment.
 
Dark Fang’s ocean setting is a veritable wonderland for monsters. It is also pristine, a refuge away from the chaos of human interaction. In the third installment, Valla (un)lives it up under the sea, cavorting with jellyfish and fighting with colossal squids, until an oil spill wipes out the only place she dared to call home. The oil is a menace harmful to everything it touches—even to Valla, who can crush iPhones in the palm of her hand, or turn into a bat or a shark whenever the mood strikes. Unable to stanch the seep, she emerges from the sea to find out why humans destroy so unremorsefully.   
 
On dry ground, Valla finds a world both inscrutable and yet easy to manipulate. She becomes a cam girl; i.e., a lady who poses lasciviously before live chat rooms, employing mind control to get all her fans to fork over their life savings. She spends the first millions to buy Dracula’s castle and outfits the entire structure with solar panels. She also finances solar panel fields nearby, creating “the largest solar project on the planet” and providing nearby Transylvanian communities with free energy.

Once comfortable navigating the depraved landscape of human existence, Valla starts hunting down the oil barons and government officials responsible for the spill—who are somehow connected to some strange Knights Templar-like characters—to exact her revenge, but not before noticing a black stain slowly making its way up one of her fangs. The origins of the stain are unknown for now (Is it tainted blood? Is it oil?), but its presence, of course, gives the series its title.
            
Throughout Dark Fang’s five volumes, endangered and extraordinary species play an important role. Valla’s bestie during sea life is a great white shark. She wears a magical dress that makes her appear not unlike an endangered Portuguese man o’ war. A pair of white lions make an appearance, and Valla briefly takes the form of a polar bear. The animals act as representations for her rage, and her empathy toward the natural world.

Shannon’s artwork is the standout element of Dark Fang, mixing ethereal waterscapes with some excellent, frenetic-feeling action sequences that are reminiscent of beloved superheroes and classic monster comics from childhood.
 
It should come as no surprise that a series with so acute a political message would come out of Image Comics. The publishing house launched in 1992, expressly as an avenue through which illustrators and creators could keep copyrights to their character brainchildren. Beyond making artists happy, Image has since found widespread success by helping to fuel our cultural fascination with zombies (via The Walking Dead) and finding character-driven epics that delve into the troubles of childrearing during a galactic war with Saga.

And perhaps, if the world is ready, Image Comics is poised to further discussions around climate change—and how to act on it—with Dark Fang.