Novels by Tom Kay

​The battle for the mind was won, but the war was just getting started.​Xin stood on the deck of a small, rusty boat. The city of Jiangnan was far behind them, a jagged line on the horizon. Ahead of them was the endless, dark blue of the ocean.​"Are you sure about this?" Mei asked. She was busy fixing a bulky diving suit made of metal scraps and alien wires. "The ocean is deep, Xin. And since the meteors fell, the fish haven't exactly been friendly."​Xin looked at his chest. The silver mark was pulsing with a soft blue light, pointing like a compass toward the bottom of the sea.​"Host," the Engine’s voice hummed. "The Star-Steel is below. It is a piece of the original meteor that fell into the trench. You need it to harden your armor for the Level 20 evolution."​"I'm sure," Xin said. He looked at the suit Mei had built. "And I’m glad you’re the one who built this. I’d hate to spring a leak a mile down."​"Don't worry," Mei grinned, tightening a bolt with her wrench. "It’s 90% wat

​Xin and Mei didn't wait. They jumped onto the flying bike and roared toward the center of the city. The giant glass Spire stood tall against the dark sky, but it didn't look like a beacon of hope anymore. It looked like a tomb.​When they landed at the base, Captain Han was waiting. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Around him, dozens of soldiers were sitting on the ground, staring at nothing. Their eyes were wide open, but they weren't "there."​"They won’t wake up," Han said, his voice cracking. "It started with the civilians we rescued from the fortress. Then it spread to my guards. They just... stop talking. Then they start screaming in their sleep."​Xin walked up to a young soldier. He used his new Pulse Sense. In his mind’s eye, he didn't see blood or bones. He saw a thick, oily purple mist wrapped around the man’s brain.​"It’s a Mind-Stalker," Xin said. "A parasite from Earth-6. It feeds on fear. If we don't pull it out, their minds will dry up and die."​"How do we

​Two weeks had passed since the sky closed. Jiangnan City was a mess of construction cranes and broken glass. But for Xin, the hardest part wasn't the rubble—it was the quiet.​He sat on the edge of a rooftop, looking at his hands. Without the armor, he looked like a normal kid again. But the silver mark on his chest felt like a cold stone. It hadn't glowed since the fight.​"If you stare at your palm any harder, you’ll grow a third eye," a voice teased.​Mei climbed onto the roof, carrying two steaming bowls of noodles. She handed one to Xin.​"Any word from the 'Voice'?" she asked, sitting down.​"Nothing," Xin said, slurping the salty broth. "It’s like the Engine went into a coma. I tried to lift a brick yesterday and almost pulled a muscle. I think I’m back to Level 0."​"Better than being a Level 10 statue," Mei said. She pointed toward the center of the city.​The Spire was still there. It didn't belong to the Elementals anymore. The Resistance had turned it into a research base

​The General laughed, a sound like grinding metal. He was pinned to the ceiling by the gravity field, but he still acted like he had won.​"Time is up, Xin," the General sneered. "The portal is closing. You have sixty seconds. Do you save your planet, or do you save those few tiny souls?"​Xin’s hand hovered over the big blue button. Inside his helmet, red lights flashed.​"Warning," the Engine’s voice said. "Closing the Spire now saves Earth. But 4,200 people are still trapped inside the alien ship. If you close it, they stay in Earth-6 forever."​"Xin! Don't listen!" Mei’s voice crackled in his ear. "If you don't shut it down, the whole alien army will come through! You can't fight an entire world!"​Xin looked out the window. High in the clouds, the giant golden ship hung like a hungry monster. He thought about the people inside. They weren't soldiers. They were just regular people—moms, dads, and kids. People just like him.​"I’m not choosing," Xin whispered.​"What?" the General

Falling is usually a terrifying thing. But falling upward into a violet sky while the city screams beneath you is a whole different kind of nightmare.​Xin soared through the air, surrounded by floating cars, chunks of asphalt, and screaming office chairs. The gravity of Earth-1 was losing the tug-of-war with the Earth-6 spire.​"Host," the voice in his head hummed. "Approach velocity is too high. You will hit the spire at 200 miles per hour. This will result in a very flat Window Cleaner."​"Not today!" Xin gritted his teeth.​He didn't use his blade. He looked down—or up—at the thousands of people being sucked into the sky. He saw a school bus hovering dangerously close to a swirling vortex of energy.​"I have to fix the gravity first!" Xin roared.​He pulled his knees to his chest and focused every bit of his Level 5 power into his gauntlet. The silver mark on his chest burned so bright it shone through his shirt.​[Initiating Kinetic Discharge...]​Xin slammed his glowing fist int

​The dust from the cave-in hung heavy in the air. Xin’s lungs burned, but the sight in front of him made his blood turn to ice.​The Elemental was massive, its body made of jagged obsidian and flowing lava. It held Old Chen off the ground with one hand. Chen, the man who had taught Xin how to tie a safety knot and shared his lunch every day for three years, looked like a broken doll.​"Put him down," Xin said. His voice wasn't shaking anymore. It was flat and cold.​"Come and take him, little Spark," the Elemental hissed. Its grip tightened. Chen let out a strangled groan.​"Warning," the voice in Xin’s head rang out. "Emotional distress detected. Host energy is turning volatile. If you attack now, the Engine will enter 'Overdrive.' You will gain power, but you may lose your mind."​I don't care, Xin thought. Save him.​"Xin... don't..." Chen wheezed, his eyes bulging. "Just... run..."​"I'm done running, Chen," Xin said.​Xin didn't wait for a plan. He didn't wait for Mei or the Capt

Sarah called three days later. Her voice was measured, careful, the tone of someone who'd wrestled with impossible choice and finally reached conclusion."Can you meet me at the food bank tomorrow morning? Before we open. Just you, me, Tom, and Marcus. We need to talk about your future here."Ral arrived at dawn, stomach tight with anticipation. The food bank looked different empty—warehouse space stripped of the energy that came from volunteers serving hundreds of struggling people each week. Just metal shelves and concrete floors and three people who would determine whether his attempt at redemption could continue or ended here.Sarah stood with arms crossed, defensive posture suggesting she hadn't reached easy peace with whatever decision she'd made. Tom leaned against sorting table, expression unreadable. Marcus stood near the door like he might need quick exit."I spent three days thinking," Sarah began without preamble. "Three days reading about what you did, who you killed, why

Six months into his new effort at living, Ral arrived at the food bank for his regular Saturday shift to find Sarah waiting with serious expression and newspaper in her hand."We need to talk," she said quietly, gesturing to small office away from other volunteers.Ral's stomach dropped. He recognized that tone, that look. Someone had found out.Sarah closed the door and placed the newspaper on desk. It was article about former network operative being arrested in Europe, story that mentioned the "coordinated assassination campaign" that had eliminated network leadership fifteen years ago. Mentioned unnamed American operatives who'd served prison time for terrorism-related charges."I googled the details from this article," Sarah said. "Found old court documents that weren't completely sealed. Found your name, Maya's name, everything about what you did. Thirty-four deaths across six continents. Thirteen years in federal prison."Ral said nothing. What could he say? The truth was in fro

Ral woke Monday morning with unfamiliar feeling—something resembling determination instead of just resignation to another day of survival. Meeting David had shifted something. Seeing Maya build real life with someone who accepted her despite everything made Ral realize he was choosing isolation rather than accepting it as inevitable.He could choose differently.At warehouse that morning, coworker named James invited him to join group getting lunch together."Thanks, but I usually eat alone," Ral started to decline automatically.Then stopped himself. "Actually, yes. I'll come."James looked surprised. "Really? You've turned us down for two years straight. Thought you hated everyone.""I don't hate anyone," Ral said. "Just got used to being alone. Trying to get unused to it."Lunch was awkward at first. Five coworkers talking about sports, families, weekend plans—normal conversation Ral hadn't participated in for years. He mostly listened, occasionally adding comment that felt clumsy

Maya called on Thursday evening, voice tense with request Ral had been expecting since she'd told David about her past."David wants to meet you," she said. "He's processed everything I told him about the campaign, the deaths, the prison time. Now he wants to meet the person who coordinated it all. Wants to understand who I am by understanding who you are.""When?" Ral asked."This Saturday. Lunch in Baltimore. Neutral location. I'll be there too obviously. He's not trying to confront you—he genuinely wants to understand.""Understand what? That I coordinated thirty-four deaths protecting my daughter? That I'm monster who destroyed dozens of lives including my own? What's there to understand?""That we're humans who made terrible choices in terrible circumstances," Maya replied. "That we're not purely evil people, just damaged people who did evil things. He wants to see that complexity instead of reducing us to crimes we committed."Saturday arrived cold and gray. They met at diner ne

Two years after release, Ral had settled into routine that resembled life if you didn't look too closely. Wake at five, warehouse shift by six, home by three, evening alone in apartment reading or watching TV. Weekly dinners with Maya. Monthly meetings with parole officer. Simple existence designed to avoid attention and minimize chances of violating parole conditions."We need to talk about something," Maya said during their weekly dinner. She looked nervous, which was unusual. Maya had faced down federal prosecutors and prison violence without showing fear."What's wrong?" Ral asked."Nothing's wrong exactly. I met someone. His name is David. He's a teacher. We've been seeing each other for three months."Ral absorbed this information slowly. Maya having relationship meant she was building life beyond their shared history. Meant she was moving forward while he remained stuck."That's good," he said, meaning it despite complicated feelings. "You deserve happiness after everything.""

Ral's parole officer approved independent living after six months of perfect compliance at the halfway house. He found a small apartment in Baltimore's working-class neighborhood—one bedroom, kitchen barely big enough to turn around in, bathroom with pipes that rattled. But it was his, first space he'd controlled since surrender thirteen years ago.Maya had gotten similar approval in DC. They met for dinner at cheap restaurant halfway between their cities, no longer needing supervision for visits now that they'd both proven they could follow parole rules."This is weird," Maya said, sitting across from him in booth with cracked vinyl seats. "Eating dinner in public like normal people. No guards watching, no time limits, no rules about what we can discuss.""We're not normal people," Ral replied. "We're parolees who coordinated thirty-four deaths. Normal people don't carry that history.""I got a job," Maya announced, changing subject. "Nonprofit helping ex-convicts find employment. Us