As the first collected edition of Unfollow hits comic book stores this week, the high concept behind DC/Vertigo's social media thriller threatens to overshadow the comic itself. A pitch like "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory meets Battle Royale meets social media" sounds cooked up by an overeager marketing consultant as much as it does the recipe for a compelling story.

Yet it works. As proven by this week's 140 Characters printed collection of the first six issues, the comic moves with a speed, subtlety and self-awareness that belies its elevator pitch. The result can stand alongside previous Vertigo hits such as Y: The Last Man, Scalped, and Grant Morrison's The Invisibles. Like those titles, Unfollow is simultaneously of the moment and timeless, making a big point about big subjects while also telling a genre story filled with pulpy thrills in a way that only comics can.

In large part, Unfollow works because writer Rob Williams leans into the sticky parts of the series' DNA (including tongue-in-cheek references to Willy Wonka's golden tickets) while steering the larger tale in another direction. Unfollow begins with Larry Ferrell, bazillionaire founder of social media empire Headspace, choosing 140 users at random to inherit his fortune upon his death. Should one of them die, their share will be split equally between the remaining inheritors. But that's just the MacGuffin.

Beware the golden ticket

At the series' heart, according to at least three protagonists, is the question of whether people are ultimately good even when given the opportunity to indulge their baser instincts. One of those three characters, Akira, is determined to prove that people are good by declaring that he will use his influx of wealth to offer hope to the world. Another of the prizewinners, named Deacon, fights on behalf of messages from God that only he can hear ("I recall the first time the Lord spoke directly unto me so very clearly," he explains in the collection's final chapter). The third struggle with goodness, within Ferrell himself, is interrupted by unfortunate, unclear circumstances.

DC/Vertigo

DC/Vertigo

DC/Vertigo

There are "bad guys"—Ferrell has an employee who wears a mask and shoots people, while the mysterious and seldom-seen Mr. Abassi becomes Unfollow's most unsettling character without saying a word—but they feel like distractions. Most of this first collection follows prizewinner Dave, an average young guy from St. Louis, Missouri, as his increasing paranoia over his part of the Ferrell fortune leads to tragedy, even without outside influence.

Returning to his earlier allusion, Williams has another character tell Dave, "This is not a 'golden ticket' for the lucky, David. These people are going to rip each other to shreds." She's not wrong, although perhaps not for the reasons she believes. While there is murder, the focus is on those left behind—those who have theoretically benefited from Ferrell's gift and stand to be protected by aforementioned God-whisperer Deacon or inspired by self-appointed leader Akira. (Think Lost's John Locke, if he were an egotistical novelist who likes to challenge gender norms.)

Other prizewinners include a BBC journalist made suicidal by what she witnessed in Tehran, a humble British accountant, and a cynical socialite who might be the smartest character in 140 Characters. She berates her fellow prizewinners and withdraws from the entire thing as much as possible. Together, they're the conflicted, confused, and contradictory prism through which we explore Unfollow's poisoned chalice. Well, them and the talking animal hallucinations that love to smack-talk pop culture.

"Man, I fucking hate The Lion King," a cheetah tells readers during one scene. "Saccharine, cutesy Elton John songs about something as serious and upsetting and violent as the food chain. It's demeaning to my species' entire life cycle." The animals are part-Greek Chorus, part-spirit animal, and a reminder that this story is far stranger than it would seem on first glance.

Unfollow is equal parts morality tale, techno-thriller, and black comedy. Williams eases between the different moods thanks to the art of Mike Dowling and colors by Quinton Winter, who bring understated naturalism to each scene and whose lifework evokes Jean "Moebius" Girard.

Ultimately, Unfollow's high concept is a feint which, to be fair, unlocks the worst impulses of almost everyone involved. Instead, Unfollow turns out to be a story about people who reveal themselves to be something other than what they seem, all playing out a game that they (and we) don't quite understand yet.