Novels by Cendana

"Quiet, Tariq. Breathe through your nose," Radit hissed under his breath, his eyes darting back to the canvas tarp where the mercenary had just lowered his metal canteen.The sentry hadn't heard them. Not yet. But the margin for error was shrinking with every second the tropical sun climbed higher into the bruised grey sky."I am breathing," Tariq whispered back fiercely, his voice a frantic, reedy squeak. "I'm breathing fine. Just... just make it quick, Radit. Please."Camille didn't say a word. She simply shifted her grip on the heavy iron wrench, her knuckles whitening until the skin stretched taut over bone. Her eyes met Radit’s for a single, charged fraction of a second. There was no warmth in the look, only a hard, uncompromising pact forged in the fires of their shared desperation. Do it, or I will, the look said.Radit gave a single, imperceptible nod. He dropped lower into the thick undergrowth, his boots making zero sound as he began to slide forward through the wet ferns li

"We don't have five minutes to debate infantry tactics while the sun is coming up over the ridge," Camille snapped, her whisper razor-sharp as she leaned past Radit's shoulder. "Your bleeding shoulder is soaked through your shirt, and my legs are shaking from pure exhaustion. If you try to pull a solo hero routine on this sentry, I swear I'll scream loud enough to bring every mercenary within five miles right down on top of us."Radit didn't blink, his dark eyes fixed entirely on the canvas tarp twenty yards ahead where the lone guard sat sipping from his metal canteen. "That isn't heroism, Camille. That's basic math. Two people moving through wet brush make twice as much noise as one. Now stay down, keep Tariq from hyperventilating, and let me handle the perimeter.""I am not hyperventilating," Tariq wheezed from behind them, though his shallow, whistling breaths instantly contradicted every word he uttered. He clutched his heavily bandaged palm against his chest like it was broken.

"Stay here," Radit whispered, his voice barely a breath against the humid jungle air as he crouched lower into the ferns. "If I don't come back in five minutes, move down the ridge toward the water and don't look back.""Don't play the martyr with me, Radit," Camille hissed back immediately, her fingers tightening around the heavy iron wrench she had salvaged from the cave. "We go together, or we don't go at all. We've wasted too much time playing tactical chess while these bastards hunt us for sport.""You're in no condition to sneak up on a houseplant, Camille, let alone a trained sentry with a radar screen," Radit replied, his eyes sharp and devoid of any room for argument. He shifted his weight, testing the mud beneath his boots. "If you make a single sound, that portable radar picks up the frequency of your heart rate. Stay. Put.""He's right, Camille," Tariq muttered, his voice trembling as he pressed his back hard against a moss-covered mahogany trunk. He was clutching his band

"Hold," Radit hissed, his hand shooting out horizontally to bar Camille’s chest with the unyielding force of a steel beam.Camille froze instantly, her left foot hovering just inches above a bed of damp, rotting broadleaves. Her breath hitched in her throat, the sound swallowed by the persistent, dripping humidity of the jungle canopy. She didn't argue, didn't snap back, and didn't ask for clarification. She simply lowered her center of gravity, her eyes locking onto the dense wall of tropical green leaves twenty yards ahead.Tariq stumbled up from behind them, nearly colliding with Camille’s back. He caught himself on a thick hanging vine, his chest heaving violently as he tried to muffle the sound of his ragged breathing. His eyes were wide, bloodshot, and rimmed with absolute terror."What?" Tariq whispered, his voice cracking like dry timber. "What is it? Did they find our trail again? Are they right behind us?"Radit didn't turn around. His gaze remained pinned to a narrow break

"Pack it up, pack it all down, we are out of time," Radit said, his voice dropping into a hard, unyielding register as the first pale slivers of grey morning light finally cut through the heavy, weeping fog outside the cave entrance. He didn't wait for a response, immediately dropping to his knees near the narrow mouth of the shelter where they had spent a sleepless, agonizing night. His fingers moved with practiced, mechanical speed along the low-slung trip-wire he had rigged twenty-four hours ago using discarded military radio wire and a rusty fishhook. "If we linger here for even another ten minutes, the thermal sweep teams will clear the lower ridge and catch us in a crossfire between the cliff face and the open shore."Camille was already on her feet, slinging her shredded rucksack over one shoulder with a sharp wince that she swallowed down instantly behind clenched teeth. "My shoulders feel like someone took a sledgehammer to them, and my left boot is completely waterlogged," s

"Move, move, move! Don't look back at the ridge line or you'll lose your footing on this slime!" Radit barked, his voice a low, gravelly rasp as he shoved Camille forward through the pitch-black subterranean water run-off chute."I'm moving as fast as humanly possible with a torn shoulder and lungs full of muddy water!" Camille snapped back, her boots skidding wildly against the submerged limestone shelf before she caught herself against the jagged cave wall. The skin of her palm tore open anew, but she didn't even flinch, driven entirely by raw, unadulterated survival instinct. "If you push me any harder, I'm going to tumble right back out into the open fire of those mercenaries!""Better a broken bone in the dark than a hollow-point bullet through your spine in the clearing," Radit retorted sharply, ducking his head low as the low-hanging stalactites threatened to scalp them both. He reached back with his uninjured arm, grabbing the collar of Camille's tactical vest and hauling her

"Lies, Elara! Do not let the dog whisper to you," Mavrek Sorn spat, his hand hovering over the hilt of his ceremonial blade. He stepped into the clearing, the heat from the encroaching fire painting his face in hues of violent orange. "That ledger is a fabrication, a desperate play by an expelled student and a disloyal daughter trying to save their own necks."Elara didn’t flinch. She held the ledger higher, her fingers white-knuckled against the cracked leather binding. "Then prove it, Mavrek. Open it. Read the transaction logs aloud to the faculty. Or are you afraid that the ink will scream the truth louder than I can?"Jhaevorn leaned against the charred railing of the mezzanine, his breath coming in ragged, shallow hitches. His side throbbed—a reminder of the blade he’d taken in the tunnels—but he forced a cold, jagged smile. "He can’t read it, Elara. He doesn’t know the cipher. He’

"He’s been liquidating your departments to pad his own exit strategy," Elara’s voice cut through the smoke, cold as a winter blade. "Check the seals. Those aren't your signatures authorizing the transfers. They’re forgeries. He’s already sold your life’s work to cover the deficit he created."The silence that followed was suffocating. Professor Halloway, his robes singed and blackened, stumbled back, his face a mask of trembling disbelief. He snatched a ledger from a nearby crate, his eyes darting frantically across the ink-stained vellum. "This is... this is impossible. I had a surplus of three thousand units last quarter. He told me it was moved to the deep reserve.""There is no reserve," Jhaevorn stepped out from the shadows of the mezzanine, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. "There is only the bonfire, Halloway. And you’re the kindling.""Lies!" a voice boom

The Grand Hall was a cathedral of betrayal. Marble pillars stretched toward a vaulted ceiling lost in thick, curling plumes of gray smoke. Below, the air shimmered with the heat of a dozen suppressed fires, and the heavy scent of singed parchment choked the lungs."Stop!"Elara’s voice, amplified by the cavernous acoustics of the hall, slammed into the chaos. She stood at the top of the grand dais, holding a heavy, leather-bound volume high—the master ledger, its spine cracked, its secrets exposed.Faculty members, frantic and soot-stained, froze mid-flight. They had been scurrying like rats toward the emergency exits, clutching bags of stolen gold, but the sight of the Treasurer’s own records stopped them dead."Look at it!" Elara commanded, her eyes darting between the fearful professors. "You think you’re being cleared to leave? You think the Treasurer is payi

"He won’t kill me," Elara said, her boots slamming hard against the cold, marble tiles of the Academy corridor. "Not yet. I’m the only one who knows the cipher for the Treasurer's private lockbox. Sorn isn't just protecting his immunity; he's hunting for the one thing that keeps him from being disposable."Jhaevorn skidded around a corner, his lungs burning. "If he thinks you’re the key, he’ll take you captive. He won't kill you, but he’ll drag you to the vault and bleed the information out of you until you’re just a shell. We have to beat him to the hall.""The hall is crawling with the Treasurer's private guard," she countered, her voice sharp. "We're walking into a slaughterhouse.""We’re walking into a choice," Jhaevorn corrected, glancing at her. "For the faculty. They’re scared, Elara. They’ve spent their entire lives under the Treasurer’s th

The shockwave from the dampening crystal ripped through the room like a physical blade. The green light in the golems’ sockets flickered, dimmed, and then hissed into oblivion. The massive constructs locked up, their steam-valves screaming in protest as the ambient mana they relied upon vanished into a void. They collapsed mid-stride, heavy enough to rattle the very foundations of the Academy.Jhaevorn surged from behind the desk, his eyes scanning the room instantly. "One down. Where’s Sorn?"Elara was already on her feet, hair disheveled, eyes burning with a cold, desperate clarity. "The shimmer in the vent is gone. He’s moved. He’s not waiting for an invitation anymore.""He’s going to the vault," Jhaevorn muttered, sprinting toward the central corridor. "If the Treasurer triggers the purge, the vault locks down for eternity. Sorn isn't going to let that happen. He needs tho

"If the Academy falls, Sorn loses his seat at the table," Jhaevorn said, his voice barely audible over the grinding of iron hinges. "He’s not here to execute us; he’s here to negotiate. He needs the keys to the vault just as much as the Treasurer does, but for the opposite reason. He wants the leverage to stay alive, not to burn the evidence."The door groaned, a final, screeching protest of metal against stone before the entire frame buckled inward. A cloud of pulverized masonry exploded into the room, choking the air with the taste of ancient dust and ozone.Through the haze, three massive, steam-hissing golems loomed, their eyeless sockets glowing with the baleful, sickly green light of corrupted mana. They didn't move like soldiers; they moved like tectonic plates, relentless and inevitable."Elara, now!" Jhaevorn screamed, diving behind a overturned mahogany desk.Elara

"Host Arman," the system's voice chimed coldly inside his head. "The runners will intercept the targets in exactly eight seconds. Do you wish to authorize a localized shield bypass?""Yes! Bypass it! Open the door!" Arman screamed, dropping his crowbar and sprinting toward the shattered glass entrance. "Don't let them get caught!""Localized human-filtering bypass authorized," the system responded instantly. "Opening threshold in five seconds. Please ensure target alignment.""Hey! Kids! Over here! Get inside the store!" Arman roared, waving his tactical flashlight frantically to cut through the heavy red mist. "Hurry! Run toward the golden light!"The boy with the silver whistle gasped, pulling a younger girl by her wrist. "Look! There’s a light! Someone’s in there! Run, Nina!""I'm trying! My foot hurts!" the girl sobbed, her small legs pumping as fast as they could. "It's too dark!"From the thick red haze behind them, a sudden flash of gunpowder illuminated the dark street.Bang!

"Mr. Bambang, open the door right now!" Arman screamed, slamming his fist against the metal sheet. "We have a massive problem out here! Hurry, before the whole place goes dark!""I'm trying! The lock is stuck!" Mr. Bambang cried from the other side, his voice cracking. "Oh god, Arman, what's that buzzing sound?""It's the generator! It's about to blow!" Arman yelled back, watching the sparks fly closer to the damaged fuel line. "Open the damn door!"Bzzzzt! Crackle!"Warning," the system’s voice chimed inside his head. "Solar-Cosmic core failure in twenty seconds. Golden Sanctuary Shield collapse imminent.""No, no, no! System, do something!" Arman yelled, clutching his head as a shower of blue sparks rained down onto the wet asphalt. "Can I buy a repair kit? A spell? Anything!""A basic manual override kit is available for twenty Karma Points," the system responded. "However, manual splicing is also possible using zero points.""Zero points? Fine, how do I do it without getting vapor

"Son of a—!" Arman screamed, throwing his body hard to the left.He grunted as his shoulder scraped violently against the rough, jagged brick wall of the narrow alleyway, sending a sharp jolt of pain radiating down his spine."That was way too close!" Arman yelled, his sneakers slipping on the wet asphalt as he scrambled to find his footing. "Missed me, you ugly piece of crap!"The massive creature let out a wet, furious hiss, its split jaws snapping shut on nothing but empty air. It spun around with terrifying agility, its claws scratching against the concrete with a horrific metallic screech."Alert," the system’s mechanical voice echoed clearly in his mind. "Host armor integrity is currently at ninety percent. Minor dermal abrasion detected on your left scapula.""I don’t care about a damn scratch!" Arman shouted, holding his makeshift spear with both hands, his knuckles turning stark white. "Tell me how to kill this thing before it actually rips my throat out!""Analyzing target a

"Arman... please tell me you're not actually planning to go out there," Mr. Bambang whimpered, his fingers clutching the edge of the checkout counter so hard his knuckles turned white."I don't really have a choice, Mr. Bambang," Arman said, his eyes scanning the dark corners of the storage area. "System, tell me exactly where that thing is. Is it right behind the back door?""The target is currently positioned three meters from the rear exit, directly adjacent to the Solar-Cosmic Generator," the system’s smooth, mechanical voice responded inside his head. "It has begun gnawing on the primary rubber-encased power cables.""Gnawing on the cables?" Arman groaned, rubbing his temples in frustration. "Why would a mutated monster want to chew on electrical wires? Does it eat electricity now?""The Stage 2 canine is drawn to the high-frequency electromagnetic vibrations emitted by the generator," the system explained calmly. "If the primary cables are completely severed, the generator will

"Ding!" the system’s cheerful chime echoed inside Arman’s mind. "Deducting ten Karma Points. Initializing the Solar-Cosmic Generator.""Wait, hold on," Arman said, squinting into the pitch blackness of the store. "How does a solar generator even work at night? Especially with this creepy red fog blocking out the sky?""The Solar-Cosmic Generator does not rely solely on direct sunlight, Host Arman," the system replied in its cool, mechanical tone. "It utilizes ambient cosmic radiation and background electromagnetic waves. Installation is now complete."A low, deep vibration rattled the floorboards beneath their feet."Whoa, what is that?" Mr. Bambang yelled, scrambling backward and knocking over a plastic display of cheap, colorful umbrellas. "Is the ground shaking? Is there an earthquake now too?""No, no, it's fine, Mr. Bambang," Arman said, holding up a hand to calm him. "Just watch the lights."The overhead fluorescent tubes did not snap back on with their usual harsh, buzzing whit

"Two..." the system’s mechanical voice echoed coldly inside Arman's mind."Wait! Hold on! Stop counting!" Arman screamed, pointing his tactical flashlight toward the shattered glass doors.Through the bright white beam, the red mist outside parted. Arman squinted, his eyes widening as he recognized the figure clawing frantically at the invisible golden wall."Wait a minute," Arman gasped, his voice cracking. "That's not a woman! That's... Mr. Bambang? Why is your voice so high?""Arman! Oh my god, Arman, is that you in there?" Mr. Bambang shrieked. His voice was pitched in an octave of sheer terror that indeed sounded like a dying banshee. "Help me, son! Please! Something is wrong with the stray dogs! They've gone mad! They're eating people!"Behind the older man, three horrific shapes surged out of the crimson fog. They looked like feral street dogs, but their skin was peeled back to reveal raw, pulsing muscle. Their jaws had split horizontally into fleshy, multi-fanged mandibles, dr