Novels by A.B STELLAR

Uche stepped through the blackened doorway, and the world shifted beneath him.It wasn’t like any room he’d ever seen—or imagined. The darkness wasn’t empty. It was alive.It whispered. Hissed. Reached into him.The air was thick, tasting of iron and cold metal. His lungs burned as though he were underwater. Shadows curled and twisted around him like snakes, weaving in impossible patterns. He felt their eyes—millions of them—watching, judging, testing.And then he saw it: the core of Room 49.A massive black orb hovered at the center of the space. It pulsed rhythmically, as though it had a heartbeat. Every beat sent ripples across the void, distorting reality itself.Uche’s stomach turned. He instinctively wanted to step back, but his feet were rooted. Something deep in his mind—the same voice that had guided him before—whispered:You were born for this.His father’s voice echoed faintly in his mind."Remember, fear is your tool, not your master."He clenched his fists. His father was

CHAPTER 10 — THE DIRECTORDarkness swallowed the room.Not the normal type of darkness—no.This one was alive.Uche froze. It felt like something had slipped over his eyes, his ears, his very thoughts. A cold pressure tightened around his skull, like Room 49 itself had wrapped invisible fingers around his brain.His father’s breathing beside him was ragged, shallow—he was fading.“Seyi?” Uche whispered.No answer.The lights snapped back on with a violent flicker.But the room had changed.It was no longer the small interrogation chamber.No walls. No doors. No ceiling.Just a massive empty white void stretching endlessly in every direction.And standing in the center of it—A man.Tall.Cold.Wearing a white coat that contrasted sharply with his obsidian-black gloves.His face was hidden behind a smooth metallic mask—no eyes, no mouth, no features—just a perfect silver surface reflecting Uche’s own terrified expression.The Director.Finally.Uche’s heart slammed against his ribcage.

CHAPTER 9 — THE DIRECTOR’S GAMEUche ran through the campus streets under the cloak of darkness, lungs burning, heart hammering like it wanted to escape his chest. The night air was thick with smoke from the burning maintenance shaft behind him. Sirens still wailed somewhere below ground. The Director’s forces were organized, precise, and deadly—they didn’t chase blindly. They hunted.He didn’t look back. Every instinct screamed to keep moving. His father had pushed him toward the west exit, but that was no longer safe. The facility was crawling with Execution Units, and Room 49 itself seemed to pulse through his veins, whispering, judging, taunting.Seyi had vanished somewhere along the tunnels, leaving a faint trail only Uche could follow, guided by instinct, fear, and the flickering light of distant exit signs.Then the whisper came—not from the walls, not from the shadows, but inside his mind:“Stop running, Uche Obi. You cannot outrun me.”It wasn’t Seyi. It wasn’t his father. It

The siren screamed through the underground facility—shrill, urgent, violent.Red lights flashed like blood splashes against the walls.Footsteps thundered.Orders barked through radios.Uche didn’t move. He couldn’t. His father’s warning froze him.Someone inside wants you dead.Seyi slammed the reinforced door shut and locked it, face tense for the first time since Uche met him.“Shit,” Seyi muttered. “They weren’t supposed to move this early.”Uche’s father stood up slowly, as if his bones hurt. But his eyes—sharp, intense—were fully alive.“We have five minutes,” he said.“Five minutes for what?” Uche whispered.“To get you out.”A pounding hit the door—violent, metallic, the sound of boots and weapons.“Open this door now!”Uche turned to Seyi. “I thought you were in charge. Why are they coming for us?”Seyi didn’t answer immediately. He pulled a pistol from his vest and chambered a round.“I’m in charge of candidates,” he said. “Not the Execution Unit.”“The what?” Uche’s stomach

Uche didn’t expect the blindfold to come off so suddenly.One moment, he was being dragged through a corridor—arms twisted behind him, boots hitting his shins—then a bright white light hit his eyes like a slap. He blinked hard.A metal chair.A table with chains.One camera blinking red.Cold room. No windows. No clock.Interrogation.Across the table sat a man in a grey tactical vest, his face unreadable, fingers drumming the metal like a countdown.“Uche Obi,” the man said. “Age eighteen. Freshman. Room 49.”He tilted his head like he was examining an animal.“You survived longer than expected.”Uche swallowed. “Where am I?”“Somewhere beneath campus.”The man leaned forward.“Tell me what you’ve figured out so far.”Uche kept quiet.He didn’t know if speaking would save him or kill him.He only knew one thing: they wanted information, and anything he said could put him deeper into their game.The man sighed, annoyed.“You think staying quiet helps you? You think silence equals stre

Uche knew from the moment the sun went down that something was wrong.The air in Room 49 usually felt cold.Tonight, it felt charged—like electricity humming under the walls.Seyi felt it too.He kept checking the corners of the room, looking at the ceiling, glancing at the wardrobe like he expected it to burst open.“This is the Instruction Test,” Seyi said quietly.“It always feels like this.”Uche’s chest was tight. “What… exactly happens?”Seyi didn’t look at him.“The room gives a command. You follow… or you don’t.”“And if I don’t?”“You fail.”“And if I follow?”“You pass.”“But what does ‘fail’ mean, Seyi?!” Uche snapped.Seyi looked at him with eyes that had seen too much.“You don’t want to find out.”Uche swallowed hard.2:00 a.m.The air grew heavier.The taps in the walls stopped completely—like the thing inside was holding its breath.Seyi sat cross-legged, staring at the wardrobe.“Whatever happens,” he whispered, “don’t scream.”Uche froze. “Why?”“Because screaming me