Novels by Ugo Lee

The storm arrives without sound. No wind. No thunder. Data twists across the sky above Realm Zero like dark static, thick bands of distortion rolling in slow arcs. The gates shimmer harder than before. Their mirror surfaces ripple, then briefly show places that do not match any Realm Everett has seen.Everett feels it before anything breaks. His chest tightens. The Anchor remnants embedded in Realm Zero pulse out of rhythm. Platforms creak. Light dims along the pathways. A few gathered players stop moving and look up at the same time. “What is that?” someone asks.Everett does not answer. He steps to the center platform. The ground firms beneath his boots as if bracing with him. He spreads his senses outward, not through thought, but through contact. Through the Anchor code stitched into the hub.The signal hits him hard. Not damage. Not attack. Recognition. Something old is moving.A gate flares bright blue, then cuts to black. The image inside it changes. The repeating towers van

Everett hits something that should not exist. There is no ground, no sky, no direction. He slams into resistance anyway, like hitting deep water at full speed. The force twists him sideways. His body stretches, glitches, then snaps back with a sharp crack that echoes through nothing. He gasps.Air floods his lungs, cold and thin. He tumbles, rolls, and skids across a surface that looks unfinished. Stone plates float half-locked together. Gaps glow with raw light. Gravity pulls downward, but weakly, like it is still deciding.Everett plants one hand down. It sinks into light up to his wrist. He yanks it free and scrambles backward. His hand flickers. Flesh peels into lines of code, then seals again. The skin feels numb.He pushes himself upright. The space around him wavers. Chunks of terrain drift in slow arcs. A broken staircase leads nowhere. A steel beam hangs in midair, vibrating softly. In the distance, fractured doorways float like torn reflections, each showing a different s

The scream does not come from Everett’s mouth. It comes from the world.Stone twists with a sharp, tearing sound. Light splits into hard angles. The floor beneath Everett’s back drops half a foot, then slams upward again, throwing him sideways. He rolls, shoulder striking metal that was not there a second ago. He skids to a stop at the edge of a platform.Below him, there is no ground. Only depth. A vast drop filled with drifting fragments of structure, data shards, and broken architecture. Pieces rotate slowly, colliding, breaking apart, then reforming into different shapes before falling again.Everett grips the edge and pulls himself back. His hand goes through the surface halfway.He jerks it back fast. His fingers flicker. Skin tears into lines of light, then snaps back into flesh. Blood beads, then vanishes as if corrected.He stares at his hand. It flickers again. “No,” he says.The nexus collapses around him. Walls shear apart into panels of code and concrete. The ceiling pee

A bird lands on a bent traffic light and stays there. Dust drifts down from a half-buried skyscraper and does not reset. A man steps off a cracked sidewalk and leaves a footprint in soil that used to be a loading screen. Nothing glitches. Nothing rolls back.Everett stands at the edge of a wide plain where pavement fades into tall gold grass. He lifts one boot, presses it down, then drags it slowly. The grass bends. It does not dissolve. The ground holds.Rae watches him from a few steps away. She crouches and runs her fingers through the soil. Dirt clings under her nails. She wipes her hand on her jacket and looks up. “It’s staying,” she says.Everett nods once. Behind them, Veridian City hums at low volume. No sirens. No alerts. Just engines, voices, and the slow grind of work starting again. Power lines stretch between buildings that once belonged to different worlds. Some flicker with faint gold light. Others do not.People move through the streets without markers above their h

The first crack does not look like a crack. It looks like a pause.Wind stops moving. Fire freezes mid-flicker. A falling shard of glass hangs in the air between one second and the next. Everett blinks, and the world does not blink back. Then the sound returns all at once.A deep pulse rolls through the sky, not loud, but heavy. The ground answers with a low tremor. Light bends, straightens, then bends again. The fractured horizon, once layered with endless game skies and broken worlds, begins to slide together like plates pulled by a hidden force.Rae staggers beside him. Her boots scrape against the stone, leaving a thin line of sparks. She grabs his arm, not to steady him, but because her hand will not close properly anymore.Above them, the Anchor Protocol changes shape. The vast construct of light and code, once sharp and exact, loses its clean edges. Symbols flicker out of order. Lines overlap. Errors spill across its surface in dull gold flashes. It is not collapsing. It is a

The floor did not exist. Everett stood still anyway. Light stretched in every direction, flat and bright, like a field made of glass. Beneath his boots, lines of code moved slowly, gold and white, forming shapes that almost looked like roads. Above him, mirrors floated. Thousands of them. Each one showed a different version of the world. Cities intact. Cities burning. Faces he knew. Faces erased.A mirror drifted closer. In it, Everett saw himself standing alone, older, colder. His eyes were empty.The mirror cracked and dissolved into light. A voice spoke behind him. “You are late.”Everett turned. The figure looked like him. Same height. Same face. Same scar above the right brow. But the eyes were wrong. They did not blink. They did not focus on anything specific.“Everett Core,” Everett said.The Core stepped forward. The floor reacted to him. Lines of code straightened. Light sharpened.“You should not be here,” the Core said. “Your presence increases instability.”Everett did n

Rain slicked streets reflected neon as the city woke to chaos. Smoke rose from the east sector. Alarms blared across rooftops. The logistics hub had exploded.Victor arrived first on the street below. Concrete cracked. Flames licked metal structures. A heavy cloud of smoke rose into the sky.“Zane,” Victor called over comms. “It’s bad. Peak hours.”Celeste’s voice followed, tight and fast. “Minimal casualties. Everyone accounted for so far, but symbolic damage is massive. Media coverage turning hostile already.”Rex scanned the perimeter from a nearby rooftop. “Ash timed this perfectly. They hit the hub when it was busiest.”Zane moved through wet streets, boots splashing in puddles. Rain hammered down. Neon reflected across broken glass. He arrived to see fire crews and civilians scattered.Victor pointed toward the center of the hub. Flames licked a supply stack. Sparks flew across puddles. “All evacuated?” he asked.Celeste checked her tablet. “Mostly. Some minor injuries, but aliv

The city breathed with tension. Steam rose from vents. Rain slicked streets reflected neon. Alarms blared in distant sectors. Urban Core operatives moved swiftly.Victor led a rooftop sweep. Boots hit wet metal. Neon signs flickered. Every corner checked. Shadows shifted across walls and rooftops.Celeste scanned her tablet. “Transit nodes offline. Power disruptions spreading. Data feeds compromised. Ash coordinated this well.”Zane crouched behind a concrete ledge. He observed movement in the streets below. Vehicles stalled at intersections. People ran for cover.Rex adjusted his scope. “Multiple points of sabotage. They hit the city at once. Not for territory, chaos. Terror.”Victor glanced at him. “They’re stretched thin. No central focus, just disruption.”Zane’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly. And they’re not random. Pattern indicates something older. Someone… guiding them.”A train station exploded lightly. Sparks flew. Smoke drifted into the night sky. Victor dove behind a railing. Ci

Rain slicked streets glimmered under neon lights. Steam rose from vents. Traffic crawled in slow, controlled chaos. The city district waited, unaware of the approaching storm.Ash operatives moved in coordinated patterns. Drones hovered above rooftops. Vehicles blocked key streets. Explosions were timed. Infrastructure targeted.Victor checked the perimeter from a rooftop. Rain plastered his hair to his forehead. He scanned alleys, fire escapes, and overhead cables. “They’re in position,” he said.Zane crouched behind a concrete ledge. Neon reflected off puddles at his feet. He traced the lines of streets below. Movement precise. Predictable.Celeste’s fingers flew across her tablet. “Ash is splitting forces into three main corridors. Each hitting a critical node, power, water, transit.”Rex adjusted the scope on his rooftop post. “Cameras show civilian movement. Mostly trapped in upper streets and walkways.”Zane didn’t speak. Only observation. He measured distances, sightlines, and

Rain slicked streets reflected neon. The city hummed with movement, distant sirens, and the low buzz of generators. Urban Core operatives gathered on rooftops. All were armed, ready.Zane crouched on a ledge, scanning. A feed from Celeste flickered on a portable screen. Red dots moved across the map, Ash operatives. Coordinates aligned with Nerissa’s intel.Victor adjusted his gloves. “All clear,” he said. “We move in ten seconds.”Zane didn’t respond. His eyes traced patterns across rooftops. Movement seemed… off. Slightly too precise. Too easy.Rex tapped his tablet. “Data looks solid. Nothing unusual in the feed.”Celeste’s fingers hovered over the screen. “Nerissa said this would be a small Ash cell. No civilians nearby. Quick strike.”Zane shifted weight, keeping low. “Something’s wrong,” he said quietly.Victor glanced at him. “You think it’s a trap?”Zane didn’t answer. He scanned shadows, fire escapes, alleyways below. The city was alive, every movement a signal.Celeste point

Victor moved through the alley silently. Rain slicked the concrete. Steam rose from vents. Gunfire echoed faintly from the streets above.He led two Urban Core operatives. The target: an Ash muscle cell hiding in an abandoned warehouse. No civilians nearby. Clear strike.Victor checked the corners. Lights flickered overhead. Broken glass crunched under his boots. He signaled a halt.Celeste’s voice came through comms. “Alpha entry confirmed. Security systems offline.”Victor gestured forward. They advanced. Metal doors groaned. Pipes rattled. Shadows shifted.Inside, Ash muscle waited. They heard movement, low and calculated. One guard spun toward them. Victor reacted.He fired first. The shot hit the guard’s shoulder. The man went down with a grunt. Victor moved past without hesitation.Two more Ash operatives appeared from a side corridor. Victor dropped low, rolled, and struck. His fists connected. They hit the floor.Celeste’s comms buzzed. “Rooftop teams report movement outside.

The courier ran across the rooftop. Neon lights reflected off wet surfaces. Steam hissed from vents. Urban Core agents followed, silent and fast.Zane stayed back for the moment. He crouched on a higher ledge. His eyes scanned the path ahead. He waited. Observation first. Timing second.Victor leaped to a nearby building. His boots hit steel with a dull clang. He rolled and sprinted toward the edge. The courier glanced back. Panic in his eyes, but he kept running.Celeste moved behind the courier. She tracked him through thermal optics. Every step calculated. Every leap measured. She tapped a communicator. “Approach vectors clear. He’s heading northeast.”Rex followed on an adjacent rooftop. Hands on the rail, he launched himself across the gap. The wind whipped against his face. Neon signs blurred past. He landed silently, rolling to absorb impact.The courier darted toward a skyway connecting two towers. Glass panels above glowed blue. Lights flickered inside. The path was narrow. O