Irae wakes up in the hospital, married but with no memory of the wedding or her husband. To everyone else, he's the perfect man, but to her, he's a tentacled cosmic horror! Bewildered by the gap between memory and reality, she wonders... Is this really just an aftereffect of her accident?

How About a Cosmic Horror? has story by GALPIL and art by GILMOK, based on a work by Lee Jeongun. Localized by Manta (October 16, 2025). Rated 16+.

Rebecca Silverman
Rating:

There is something very, very odd going on in Irae's life. After sustaining a head injury, she awakens in the hospital with no memories of her husband, or even being married, and when the man in question shows up…he's got tentacles where his head should be. And then the next day a planet. And a bouquet of flowers the next. Irae's the only person who sees him that way – and if she takes a photo with her phone, she sees a human face on him – but there's just something off about the whole situation, no matter what the doctors say.

Brain injuries are a tricky business; I've been dealing with my mother's TBI and my dad's Parkinson's Disease for years, so I know how they can play with your perception. But what's going on with Irae feels like more than just the result of trauma. There's also the way her husband talks about himself, making comments that imply that he's not of this earth, that their cat is merely cat-shaped, and that his relationship with Irae is, perhaps, suspect. Not that I doubt his love for her; that's made abundantly clear, even if she can't figure out why they're together. But he doesn't seem to know how much force he can exert when giving her a massage, nor do the things Irae does remember line up with what he claims about her job. It makes me question whether there was ever a brain injury at all.

How About a Cosmic Horror? exists at the intersection of romance and horror, which is a hell of a genre corner to stand on. It's incredibly unsettling in a very claustrophobic way; Irae and Yohan are the only people we really meet in these early chapters, and 98% of the dialogue is between them. There's an uncomfortable sense that Yohan is gaslighting Irae, but to what end is unclear. He may just really love her and be willing to go to any length to have her. Or he may be fighting some eldritch urges that have nothing to do with the human concept of romantic or sexual love. Either way, it's hard to shake the notion that Irae is in danger.

Uncomfortably mixing humor and terror, this is like no other books in the Guide. I'm not sure how I feel about it or if I'd recommend it. But if you're even mildly intrigued, I can promise you that you aren't likely to forget it any time soon.

Bolts
Rating:

There's something very visual novel-esque about this story. Everything from the pacing to the art style feels like I am watching a story play out compared to just reading a text. It's hard to explain, but the way every chapter is broken up feels like it's setting up endless possibilities for future storylines that will also tease plot points about the overall mystery that permeates throughout the story itself. It feels very formulaic, but in a way that is specifically designed to generate engagement. Once I get past the absurdity of the premise, I actually ended up really vibing with this structure to the point where I was genuinely curious what new bit of information the next chapter was going to reveal to me.

Irae is a character who wakes up one day with partial amnesia and a nonsensical condition where she is unable to physically recognize her husband. In every chapter, she ends up perceiving her husband differently. In one chapter, his head can look like an amalgamation of tentacles; in another chapter, he could look like a bouquet. However, his shifting face does actually take on distinct properties that are unique to whatever new form he takes. For example, the flowers wither when his mood changes, or maybe he'll change a different color. The whole story feels like Irae is being gaslit into believing that certain things are true, but the story also cleverly drops hints to the audience that there might be something bigger going on.

It doesn't reveal its hand right away, and I like that because we're skirting a very delicate line. The story doesn't make it clear for quite a while whether or not what is going on is even real. There's this air of cynicism revolving around the husband, who one minute can come off as very goofy, while the next minute, very intimidating and dangerous. But since we're seeing things from the perspective of Irae, we don't know if it's because she is just scared of the circumstance or if there is genuinely something to be afraid of. I like that it adds a psychological thriller twist to what can sometimes come off as a goofy romantic comedy. Very few stories can accomplish that balancing act so effectively, but this one manages to do it in a way that kept me engaged chapter to chapter. Give this one to read.