Novels by Max Sheen

The two broad-shouldered men closed in on Aēllion, their shadows falling over him like dark towers. One cracked his knuckles, the other smirked, and both looked ready to teach him a lesson. Aēllion took a slow step back, his mind racing for a way out. He had no money, no idea what “Thalon credits” were, and no strength left to fight. "Ī'm scrēwēd," Aēllion whispered to himself. His chest tightened, and he could already imagine the pain that was coming. “Add his bill to mine,” a voice said from behind. The two men froze. The waiter turned. Aēllion’s eyes widened when he saw her. It was Sira. She stood at the entrance, arms crossed, a faint smile on her face. Her blue hair shimmered under the neon lights of the half-restaurant, half-bar. Every eye in the place turned to look at her. The waiter blinked in surprise. “Lady Sireya-Val?” Sira walked closer, her boots echoing softly on the metallic floor. “You heard me,” she said calmly. “Add his bill to mine.” The waite

Inside the mini-ship, the sound of the engines filled the small cabin like a steady heartbeat. Aellion sat on the passenger seat, dripping wet, his hair still plastered against his forehead. His chest rose and fell quickly, not only from the chase but from the fact that he was now sitting only a few feet away from the strangest girl he had ever seen in his life.Her hair was blue, not dyed or glowing, but naturally blue, falling over her shoulders like strands of crystal water. Strange markings traced along her arms and neck, faintly pulsing with light, like her very skin carried hidden energy. And her eyes bright, luminous blue, almost seemed to see through him.Sira gripped the controls tightly, her jaw tense. She pushed the ship faster, weaving between jagged rocks and the scattered ruins of the outcast lands. After a long silence, she finally let out a breath and spoke."That was a close one," she said, shaking her head. "Those creatures... they don't usually come that close to

Aēllion's eyes flew open just in time to see the soldier standing in front of him jerk backward, a sharp beam of energy tearing through his chestplate. The young man's mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. His rifle clattered to the ground. Behind him, another soldier lowered his weapon, his face twisted in cold disgust. "Yōu wērē āctūālly līstēnīng tō hīs nōnsēnsē," the newcomer spat. The first soldier collapsed to the ground with a dull thud. Aēllion's pulse exploded in his ears. He didn't wait to think. In the space between one heartbeat and the next, he lunged sideways. "Yōu! Stōp rīght thērē!" the second soldier barked, already raising his weapon again. Aēllion didn't stop. He bolted, boots pounding against the metal walkway, air burning his lungs. A beam of plasma slammed into the ground beside him, searing the metal and spraying sparks across his path. Another shot. Too close. He didn't look back. He didn't dare. The Gat

.. The sun bled gold across the sky as Sireya-Val stood on her balcony, gazing at the capital city. From here, the city looked perfect. Silver towers glowed in the fading light, and streams of sky-traffic moved in orderly lines between spires. The air was clean, the streets calm. For anyone else, this view would have been paradise. For Sira, it felt like a cage made of glass and light. The faint alien markings along her arms shimmered as the sunlight shifted. Her luminous blue eyes reflected the sky, but her thoughts were far beyond it. She could still hear her father’s voice from their conversation an hour earlier, deep, firm, immovable. Earlier That Evening The senator’s study was massive, the walls lined with holographic archives and alien script etched into the polished black stone. Xurell-Val stood by the tall window, his robe trailing across the floor. “You’ve had the best tutors. You understand law, politics, and diplomacy. When I step down, you will take my pla

The next morning, °Aēlion-197 was up before the first morning chime. Vehlarā expected to see the same quiet, shaken son from the night before, haunted by the truth they had uncovered. But instead, she found him standing tall, dressed, and already spooning mouthfuls of breakfast stew into his mouth like nothing had happened. "You're up early," she said cautiously. Aēlion gave her a half-smile. "Thought I'd get ahead on my drills. You know how Veydrān is with form." Vehlarā narrowed her eyes. Something in his tone was too light. Too normal. Still, she said nothing. As the morning rolled on, Aēlion resumed his daily routine as though the codec, the footage, and the truth of their past had all been nothing more than a dream. He joined his training cohort, took orders, followed instructions, and sparred like usual. He even laughed when one of the trainees cracked a joke about Veydrān's hair looking like a nesting crow. He didn't flinch when he heard other soldier

Vehlarā moved like a shadow in the night. The narrow alleyways of the Edge seemed emptier than usual. Her footsteps echoed, but only softly. The path to the Decentral Archive Annex was one she had memorized years ago, back when she worked as a systems translator. That life had ended the day she chose complaint over compliance. But tonight, she walked those halls again. She expected patrol drones. Cameras. Maybe even guards with facial scans and heat sensors but the corridor was abandoned. Too abandoned. No one. Not a flicker of surveillance. No moving lights. Not even the usual hum of energy grids. It felt wrong. Cold. Quiet. Still, she kept moving. She had to. The Annex door responded to her outdated clearance chip. That, too, felt strange. It shouldn't have worked but it did. Like the system wanted her to go in. She hesitated. Trap? Maybe. But she stepped through the threshold anyway. The door slid closed behind her with a whisper. Inside, the room was a relic o