In the blood-slicked world of Invincible, power doesn’t just corrupt — it obliterates. Adapted from Robert Kirkman’s comics, the show is a hyper-violent, emotionally bruising reimagining of the superhero genre, where the physics of a punch to the face are actually honored and where saving the world usually means destroying a good chunk of it. What makes Invincible distinct isn’t just its capacity for carnage or its gorgeously brutal animation, but its insistence that having superpowers doesn’t make you good — or even competent. It’s a series where morality is less about catchphrases and more about trauma bonding, and where every heroic high is followed by a chilling low. The show invites us to ask not just what happens when teenagers get powers, but whether anyone ever should — especially in a world that treats omnipotence like a part-time job.