Novels by Ayaka

"Sixty minutes, Arlo. That’s an hour. In human terms, that’s just enough time to watch a bad sitcom, eat a sad pizza, and realize you’ve wasted your entire life," Zafira said, sprinting into the mouth of a dark alleyway. "In your terms, it’s the duration of your entire remaining existence.""Could you maybe, just maybe, be a little less graphic?" Arlo panted, his lungs screaming as he scrambled over a stack of discarded shipping pallets. "My anxiety is already vibrating at a frequency that’s shattering my teeth. I don't need the play-by-play."Behind them, the Aether-Core building hummed with an ominous, mechanical energy. Security drones, small and sleek, hummed like oversized angry hornets as they hovered above the alley, their searchlights scanning the rain-slicked pavement."Duck!" Zafira shoved Arlo into a hollowed-out dumpster. The smell was questionable, mostly rotting kale and broken dreams, but it was better than getting ventilated by a corporate drone."I am officially done

"First of all, your brother is probably the least of our worries right now," Zafira said, tossing a pair of heavy rubber suction cups into Arlo’s chest.Arlo fumbled, barely catching them before they could dent his shin. "What are these? Am I supposed to plunge a toilet while we run for our lives?""They’re heavy-duty industrial glass lifters, Arlo," Zafira said, already strapping a harness around her thighs. "We’re climbing the south face of the Aether-Core building. It’s the only blind spot in their camera grid.""Climbing?" Arlo stared up at the sheer, vertical wall of glass and dark steel looming over them like a corporate monolith of doom. "Zafira, I get dizzy when I stand up too fast from a low couch. I have zero core strength. My fitness app literally asked me if I was dead yesterday.""Then you’d better start living," she said, slapping her suction cups against the glass with a loud, wet thwack. "Put them on, lock the levers, and pull yourself up. If you drop, try to aim for a

The neon glow of the downtown district felt like a migraine set to music. Arlo ducked into the shadows of a narrow alley, his chest heaving. Behind them, the faint, rhythmic chirping of a police cruiser’s siren faded, replaced by the relentless, thrumming heartbeat of his own phone."She’s persistent, I’ll give her that," Zafira muttered, pressing her back against a brick wall. She pulled a small, silver device from her jacket and scanned the perimeter. "I think we shook her, but don't get cocky. She’s definitely going to be looking for us."Arlo clutched his bag, his knuckles white. "She’s a cop, Zafira. They have, like, helicopters and stuff. How did I go from being a guy who makes bad coffee to a guy who’s essentially playing tag with the entire municipal government?""You aren't just playing tag, Arlo," Zafira said, checking her screen. "You’re a glitch in a system that’s designed to be perfectly linear. And systems hate glitches.""Yeah, well, I hate being a glitch," Arlo shot ba

The neon skyline of the city looked less like a bustling metropolis and more like a circuit board designed by a sadist. Arlo stared at his phone, his thumb hovering over the ‘Collaborative Hits’ screen. The faces of his mother and Benoit flickered in the crimson light, mocking him."We need to move, Arlo," Zafira said, not looking back as she navigated the car through the congested downtown grid. "The app is tracking our velocity. If we stop for too long, it’ll mark us as stationary targets. That’s when the 'environment' starts getting creative again.""I’m moving, I’m moving," Arlo muttered, shoving his phone into his pocket. "Where to? Does the app give us a GPS pin for this Jovan guy?""It’s not a pin. It’s a transaction history," Zafira replied, tapping her steering wheel rhythmically. "The app processes payments for these hits. Someone had to wire money to Jovan Pell to make this happen. I tracked the IP routing to a sandwich shop on 5th. It’s a front, clearly.""A sandwich shop?

"Gas? It’s trying to blow me up now?" Arlo shrieked, his voice climbing into a range usually reserved for tea kettles. "That’s so dramatic! Why can't it just be a simple, boring hit-and-run? Why does it have to be a structural explosion?"Zafira didn't answer. She was already out of the car, her movements a blur of tactical efficiency. She didn't bother locking the vehicle; she just slammed the door and sprinted toward the brick facade of Arlo’s apartment complex. Arlo scrambled after her, his sneakers slapping against the wet pavement."Wait up! What about the gas? Do we need a hazmat suit? Do I need to call the fire department?""The fire department is controlled by the municipal grid, which this app has clearly compromised," Zafira barked over her shoulder, not breaking stride. "If we call them, they’ll probably get rerouted to a fake cat-in-a-tree call while your building turns into a fireball. Move!"As they rounded the corner toward the entrance, a massive, ancient oak tree that

The countdown on the screen hit 09:42, the red numbers pulsing like a rhythmic, digital heartbeat. Arlo felt the air in The Daily Grind turn thin, as if the oxygen were being siphoned off by the app itself."Arlo, move!" Benoit shoved him toward the back exit. "Forget the coffee, forget the register, just run!"Arlo stumbled, clutching his phone like a ticking pipe bomb. He burst through the service door into the alleyway, the humid city air hitting him like a physical blow. He didn't stop running until he reached the municipal parking structure three blocks over, his lungs burning with the metallic tang of city exhaust. He ducked behind a concrete pillar, gasping, his thumb frantically trying to swipe the FatalMatch app into oblivion, but the screen remained locked on the image of the man in his kitchen."You’re breathing way too loud for someone trying to hide," a sharp, clipped voice said from the shadows.Arlo spun around, nearly dropping his phone. A woman stood near a charcoal-g