Novels by Dulmo

The flickering news broadcast on the scavenged screen cast dancing shadows across Lucie Brinon’s face, painting Commander Thorne’s grim pronouncement in stark, unforgiving light. “...a city-wide manhunt has been declared. All citizens are advised to exercise extreme caution and report any sightings immediately. Any individual found aiding or abetting Subject Zero will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of Nexus law.”Lucie stared at the screen, then back at Henry’s unconscious form, her hand still resting on his forehead. The weight of Thorne’s words, the gravity of their situation, pressed down on her. A city-wide manhunt. A rogue operative. But Henry had also just given her a name, a location, however fragmented. The Eye of Marirstil. The spire. The Dark Mage.“Damn it, Henry,” she whispered, her voice raw with a desperate resolve, “what have you gotten us into?” She knew then, with chilling clarity, that the fight was no longer just about survival. It was about exposing the truth,

"You're cornered, Subject Zero," the synthesized voice echoed from the lead soldier, who now held a specialized containment device, its blue glow throbbing ominously. "Surrender, and Detective Brinon might be spared."Lucie's eyes flickered to Henry, a silent question passing between them. Surrender, and he was back in the lab. Fight, and they both might die. The air around Henry began to crackle, the dark energy swirling violently, ready to explode. His past had not just caught up; it had him in its merciless grasp, and the fight for his freedom, for his very identity, was about to begin, here and now, in this forgotten plaza, under the cold, indifferent stars of Marirstil."Henry, don't," Lucie whispered, her voice tight, a hand reaching out to touch his arm, a desperate anchor. "Don't do anything reckless."He looked at her, truly looked, and saw the fear in her eyes, but also that stubborn, unyielding spark. He felt the cold steel of the containment device pointed at him, and the

The apartment lights flickered violently, struggling against the uncontrolled surge of energy that bled from Henry. The holographic display sputtered, its intricate Necro structure dissolving into static, then reforming, distorted. The dampener field around his room shrieked, then buckled with an ear-splitting pop, throwing sparks that danced like angry fireflies. A dark tendril, viscous and alive, lashed out from his body, slamming into the wall with a sickening crack that resonated deep in the foundations."Henry!" Lucie cried out, stepping back, her hand instinctively going for her sidearm, though her gaze remained fixed on him, a mixture of fear and profound realization dawning in her eyes. The air between them thickened, heavy with ozone and the raw, untamed power that coiled around him."It's them," Henry rasped, the words tearing from his throat, layered with an ancient, guttural echo that made the air itself vibrate. His eyes glowed with that terrifying void, reflecting the ch

The suffocating darkness, thick and cold as primordial tar, receded as abruptly as it had come. Henry gasped, eyes snapping open, finding himself still on his knees in the interrogation room, the shattered remains of the containment field sparking around them. Lucie stood before him, her chest heaving, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and an unnerving, magnetic curiosity. The air crackled with residual energy, smelling of ozone and something burnt."Henry," she whispered, her voice rough, "what… what was that?"He looked at his hands, trembling, still faintly glowing. "I told you. You don’t want to see it.""Too late," she countered, pushing a loose strand of hair from her face. Her hand, he noticed, was shaking. "I just did. And now... now I know you're telling the truth." She holstered her weapon, a gesture that felt less like trust and more like a tactical decision. "We need to talk. Properly.""About what?" Henry muttered, struggling to his feet. Every muscle ached, and the

The blinding spotlight of the interceptor didn’t just illuminate the alley; it burned. When Henry opened his eyes, the world was a jagged, sterile white. The damp grit of the alleyway was gone, replaced by the humming vibration of a holding cell’s containment field."Wakey, wakey, freak."Henry squinted, his head throbbing as if someone were driving a spike through his temples. A man in a standard-issue Enforcer uniform stood outside the shimmering blue barrier, his hand resting casually on a shock-baton."Where... where am I?" Henry rasped, his throat feeling like he’d swallowed sand."Sector 4 Holding. Don't play coy with me, kid," the guard scoffed, leaning in close. "You know exactly where you are. You’ve got a record a mile long of property damage and resisting arrest. Plus, you’re glowing like a cheap neon sign. What are you on? Is it Necro?""I don't know what that is," Henry whispered, pulling his knees to his chest. He could feel the familiar, oily hum of the energy beneath h

The heavy steel door buckled, then shrieked as it tore off its hinges, clattering against the concrete of the alleyway like a dying beast. Henry Russell stumbled out into the cool, biting air of the night, his lungs burning as if he’d inhaled shards of glass. Behind him, the corridor remained a testament to the chaos he’d wrought; three guards lay in twisted, silent heaps, their synthetic armor cracked and sparking from the violent discharge of his touch."Just keep moving," Henry wheezed, clutching his ribs. He felt the phantom vibration of the lab’s containment field still buzzing beneath his skin. "Don’t stop. Just breathe."He stumbled into the main thoroughfare of Marirstil, and the city hit him like a physical blow. It was a cacophony of neon—cerulean, violent magenta, and caustic gold. Vehicles hummed on gravity rails high above, and the holographic billboards cast long, shivering shadows that seemed to mock his ragged state. He looked down at his hands; they were trembling, gl