It is exceptionally one of the rare studies that are fearless enough to scratch into the skies, not allegorically but rather philosophically as well as feeling-wise and thematically. It assaults suppressive institutions and the fright of truth itself with astounding lucidity and refinement. It is not only a fine manga it is a milestone in storytelling that must be experienced, recalled and talked about.

Orb is set in a slightly fictionalized 15th-century world in which geocentric orthodoxy is violently enforced by a religious order called the Order. The book chronicles the adventures of young intellectuals who put their lives on the line to dispute the established order: that the Earth is not the centre of the universe. This is not only a scientific fiction drama, but a very human timeline of intellectual defiance, courage, and tragic beauty.

Instead of narrating the story of one protagonist, Orb is almost an anthology, spinning between one brilliant mind, with a personality, contribution to intellectual thought in the history, and the tragic ending. These characters represent thinkers, but more importantly, the pain and joy of knowing somewhat you are not allowed to articulate Sister Lily in particular is stubbornly, quietly burning the rest of the characters are stoic, young Rafal, played by Valentina de Angelis, with greasy hair and baggy trousers, and Jesse, the awkward, tall scientist with a goatee who mysteriously disappears and reappears.

This is a dangerous form of narrative and yet it happens surprisingly well. The manga never lets us get too relaxed, as, immediately as a storyline about a certain character starts to blossom, it is as usually, terminated prematurely, similar to fate of historical real life heretics and innovators such as Giordano Bruno or Hypatia. Orb is marked by punctuation of death, but also legacy and that dissonance makes it is a rhythm both soul-crushingly sad, and also transcendent.

The work by Uoto is bleak, symmetrical and full of hidden meanings. The extensive contrast of dark blacks and bright whites have been used to bring out the theme of battle of ignorance and enlightenment. Panels dwell on quiet scenes: a character gazing up at where the sky meets the earth, a candle burning next to the text of an incriminating document, the dead child whose eyes show he knew all too much far too early. Such visual decisions are not mere aestheticism as they bear significance in terms of themes.

When the violence does break out there is never any glory given to it. The savagery is swift, short and decidedly human. It hurts. Well, that is supposed to. This is a world in which knowledge becoming a capital offense and each page drips with the terror and beauty of that fact.

Orb is about forbidden knowledge at its most fundamental, and it poses the following question: what cost truth, in a world that does not want it? The name of the manga has more than an allusion to Copernican thought, it is a rallying cry, a badge of honor of those silent revolutionaries who had the courage to look and see things differently.

But that does not make Orb depict their heretics as perfect saints. They are imperfect, to say the least, scared, not always logically consistent people, and their rebellious perception is even more impressive. Martyrdom is not romanticized in the manga; it is lamented by it. But it is also worshipful of what can be brought about by curiosity, the irrepressible desire to know our role in this world.

Perhaps the current theme of Rob Roy is especially applicable to the modern world, where the spirit of the inquiry is still fighting against misinformation, dogma, and authoritarianism. Orb might be a fictional retelling of the past and yet its hypocrisy is hauntingly contemporary.

Even if they kill us, the stars will keep turning. So I must speak, because someone must - Rafal

The core in Orb is this line and Rafal implores it. It is a sense of the existential rebelliousness that courses through each chapter. It is not the question of being right, it is the question of bearing witness to truth whatever the cost.

Orb: On the Movements of the Earth is not a typical manga, but a philosophical treatise with a historical disguise of a tragedy. It contradicts, it destroys, and it motivates. It is not a book to be taken lightly and its gradual approach in terms of narrative could prove to be unappealing to those accustomed to more traditional plotlines. However, to the notable few that care to listen, to listen to the space quietness between the stars, then there is something special about this manga.

An almost perfect, intellectually bold and emotionally devastating masterpiece. It is its only flaw: that it should come to an end, but, possibly, it is one of its messages, too.