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From Homo Sapiens to Robo Sapiens, this is a story in which humanity transcends itself.

With thematic echoes of "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" and "Blade Runner (1982)", "Robo Sapiens Zenshi" consists of 13 self-contained yet interconnected chapters. Through a multi-focal narrative featuring various characters, it chronicles the origin, development, and evolution of a new non-biological intelligent species. These beings gradually "replace" what we consider humanity; starting as servile androids, they eventually assume active roles in society and come to be recognized as cyber-persons with their own rights and freedoms. Some of these androids appear indistinguishable from humans, while others even believe they are humans, ... literally. The ever-present dilemma is clear: what truly makes a human... human? This is not the first nor last piece of work exploring the complicated relationship between humans and technology; however, I do think it's one that has a little something more to offer, if not new, at least a fresh view on such dilemmas.

"Robo Sapiens Zenshi", more than simply portraying humanity's doom, envisions life beyond the limitations of physical form, not free from a melancholic tone, but from a much more neutral, even phlegmatic, perspective.

This is a thought-provoking manga, with its strength lying in the simplicity of its narration and the clarity of its minimalistic artwork. The sparse dialogue enhance the immersion rather than hinder it. I definitely recommend it to those of you looking for a short sci-fi manga that, instead of giving you answers to your questions, makes you question your answers.

“Memories are always blinding. They cause you pain… and sorrow.”

As you prepare to move, packing your belongings and separating the valuable from the unnecessary, you stumble upon an item—a photo album, perhaps—that unlocks a cascade of memories. “Look how far I’ve come since then.” You smile, recognizing your growth since those days. But "Sunadokei", or "Sand Chronicles" as it’s known in English, isn't about that satisfying feeling of moving past your old self. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Hourglasses frequently appear in this story, symbolizing the relentless passage of time as we follow the heroine, Ann Uekusa, from childhood through adolescence to adulthood. Yet, something remains ... unchanged; ever since tragedy struck at a young age, Ann has never been the same. Despite her efforts to rebuild herself as her surroundings and the people around her change, she’s still stuck in a rut. As readers, we are accustomed to rooting for heroes who grow, change for the better, and become wiser. However, Sunadokei’s heroine defies this expectation. Ann is not someone to root for; there are no “development” or “redemption” arcs for her. Instead, you find yourself frustrated with her stagnant state, even as you empathize with her circumstances. “Why can’t she just get over it?” “Why can’t she appreciate what she currently has?” These questions are raised within the story itself, and the answers remain elusive until late into the story. But by then, it’s painfully obvious that this is not the point of the story. It never was.

Sunadokei’s narrative is tedious. Reading it from start to finish is a constant battle between your frustration with the protagonist's convoluted inner workings and your impatience to reach a satisfying conclusion. Ignoring the narrative's intent would be a mistake, though—you’re meant to feel frustrated with Ann! Processing trauma is neither pleasant nor logical. The thing is, you can't simply "get over it" because someone else says so; something broken can't be fixed just because others wish it, or even try to help to make it "better". Ann’s journey isn’t about setting her up for a satisfying conclusion. It’s about an intimate exploration of the self and coming to terms with the fact that the shaky ground she stands on might be all she has to continue her path for the rest of her life, with no amount of time in the world to "remedy" it. In the end, the mantra that "time cures it all..." isn't something that works for everyone, especially not when you feel like time is moving forward for everyone else except yourself.

Sunadokei is an emotionally charged story, cutting open and displaying the hearts and minds of its characters. Despite its occasional dull moments and some unnecessary subplots, it poignantly conveys one of the most fragile aspects of the human psyche. Each volume is quite lengthy, so don’t be misled by the low chapter count. Take your time if you decide to pick this one up.