Spawn: The Dark Ages #5 is published by Image Comics and is written as well as illustrated by Liam Sharp
The Recap: The Long Road to Ruin
If you’re anything like me, you’ve been staring at Liam Sharp’s Instagram previews for months, basically vibrating with anticipation. Now that we’re finally here at the penultimate issue of the 2026 revival, Spawn: The Dark Ages #5 doesn't just meet expectations—it practically grinds them into the blood-soaked soil of 4th-century Britain.
This isn't your older brother’s Dark Ages from the late 90s. While that run had its own grungy, gothic charm, what Sharp is doing here is something much more primal and mythic. It’s a masterclass in visual storytelling where the line between "comic book" and "fine art" is so blurred you might need a magnifying glass (literally, the detail is that insane).
To understand where we are in Issue #5, we have to look at the wreckage Liam Sharp has been building since last November. This 2026 miniseries has pivotally shifted away from the "Lord Covenant" era of the original run. Instead, we’re dropped into the collapsing remains of Roman Britain. The legions are gone, the Celts are fighting for scraps, and the air is thick with the stench of the plague.
Our protagonist, Aurelianus, has spent the last four issues trying to hold back the tide of both human invaders and supernatural rot. He’s a man who has lost everything—his status, his family, and nearly his mind. In previous issues, the appearance of the "Devil Spawn" was treated as a terrifying omen, a nightmare lurking in the periphery of the Roman-Celtic skirmishes. But by the end of Issue #4, the subtext became text: Britain is dying, and the only thing left to save it isn't a god, but a monster.
The Story: A Bargain in the Blood
Issue #5, titled appropriately for the sheer desperation it depicts, finds Aurelianus backed into the ultimate corner. His people aren't just dying on the battlefield; they’re rotting in their beds. The plague imagery in this issue is legitimately unsettling—Sharp doesn’t shy away from the visceral reality of 5th-century sickness.
The core of this issue is the "solution" offered by the Hellspawn. In typical Spawn fashion, it’s a "monkey’s paw" deal. The Spawn doesn't just show up and start decapitating Roman centurions (though there is plenty of that); he offers a way to stop the plague, but the cost is the very soul of the land Aurelianus is trying to protect.
What I loved about the writing here is the philosophical weight. Sharp manages to make the dialogue feel ancient and heavy without being a "thee and thou" parody. There’s a specific sequence where the Spawn explains the nature of the "Necro-gift"—it’s a parasitic salvation. To save the living, Aurelianus must embrace the dead. It raises the stakes for the upcoming finale to a fever pitch. Is a kingdom saved by Hell worth living in?
The Pacing: The Calm Before the Inferno
If I had one minor gripe with the series so far, it was the "decompression" in Issue #3. However, Issue #5 completely course-corrects. The pacing here is relentless. It starts with a literal "fog of war" battle sequence that occupies the first six pages, then transitions into a deeply claustrophobic dialogue in the ruins of a Roman villa, before ending on a cliffhanger that feels like a gut punch.
The transition from the macro-scale of the war to the micro-scale of the plague-infested house is handled beautifully. Sharp knows when to let the art breathe and when to cram the panels with dense, expositional dread. For a 24-page book, it feels like a 50-page epic. You can’t just breeze through this; you have to sit with it. Every page turn feels like sinking deeper into a bog. It’s heavy, it’s slow-burning horror, and then—bam—the violence hits with the force of a mace to the helmet.
The Art: A Liam Sharp Masterclass
We need to talk about the visuals because, let's be real, that’s 70% of why we’re here. Since Liam Sharp is handling writing, pencils, inks, AND colors, this is his purest vision yet. If you liked his work on Starhenge or The Green Lantern, this is that dialed up to eleven.
Detailing: The "hyper-detailed" style he’s known for is on full display. The armor textures—the rusted chainmail, the dented Roman Lorica Segmentata—look like they have weight. You can almost feel the cold, damp climate of Britain coming off the page.
The Spawn Design: This version of the Hellspawn is a nightmare of Celtic/Barbarian aesthetics. Instead of the clean spandex-adjacent look of Al Simmons, this entity is a mass of tattered furs, bone-like protrusions, and a cape that looks less like fabric and more like congealed shadow and dried blood.
Color Palette: The colors are what really sell the mood. It’s a lot of muddy browns, sickly greens, and deep, bruised purples. When the Hellspawn’s necro-energy flares up, the contrast is blinding. It’s not just "green light"—it’s a toxic, neon glow that feels alien to the medieval setting.
Panel Layouts: Sharp avoids the standard 6-panel grid. He uses overlapping borders and "vignette" style layouts that make the pages feel like illuminated manuscripts from a very dark, very twisted monastery.
The Final Verdict
Spawn: The Dark Ages #5 is exactly what a penultimate issue should be. It raises the stakes, clarifies the cost of the protagonist’s journey, and delivers some of the most hauntingly beautiful artwork in the industry today.
It’s rare to see a creator have this much control over a "Big Two" style property. Todd McFarlane clearly gave Sharp the keys to the kingdom and told him to go wild, and the result is a book that feels deeply personal, incredibly grisly, and visually unmatched.
If you’ve been sleeping on the Spawn Universe because you thought it was just 90s nostalgia, this is the book that should change your mind. It’s a brutal, poetic, and visually stunning exploration of what happens when a hero realizes that the only way to save the world is to let it burn.