Requesting a comic from this screenplay;

JOHANNA is quietly patching a small tear in Hilda’s sweater. RIPLEY approaches her, arms crossed, observing. The facility hums with technical noise.

RIPLEY
You're good with a needle.

JOHANNA
(Looks up, a warm but weary smile)
I've had a lot of practice. Keeping my daughter in decent sweaters when she’s off looking for trolls and whatnot is a full-time job.

RIPLEY
Trolls. Right.

JOHANNA
(A slight raise of her eyebrow)
And you, Officer Ripley? I hear you deal with... things that come out of people's chests. That sounds equally messy.
Ripley gives a dry, humorless chuckle.

RIPLEY
You could say that. We have a lot in common, I suppose. We both deal with things that defy belief and make a mess of our lives.

JOHANNA
(Putting down the sweater, her face serious)
The man, Saito, he mentioned a "Mama Bear" analogy for the subject's mind. A mother protecting her child.

RIPLEY
(Nodding slowly, her intense gaze focused)
Yeah. The instinct to protect your own is the strongest force in the universe. It’s what keeps you going when everything else is telling you to give up.

JOHANNA
Exactly. That's why I'm scared. I don't know what this dream world is, but if they put my daughter in danger, I will tear this entire facility apart.

RIPLEY
(A look of genuine respect in her eyes)
Good. Don't let them forget that. In this world, we have to fight for every inch of control. Don't trust anyone who tells you otherwise.

JOHANNA
(Nodding in agreement, her determination clear)
I won't. I'm just a mother, but I'm not a pushover.

RIPLEY
(A rare, small smile)
Nobody's calling you a pushover, Johanna. Not anymore.

The two women share a look of mutual understanding—two protective figures from different realities, united by a fierce maternal instinct.