Novels by Cahaya Pena

The elevator descended with a rhythmic, bone-jarring screech, the metal cage swaying dangerously against the slick walls of the shaft. Bima clung to the rusted handrail, his knuckles white, watching the digital floor indicator tick downward into the negatives."Going down into the belly of the beast, huh?"Bima jumped, spinning around to find the Scout leaning against the far wall of the elevator. He hadn't seen the man enter, but there he was, idly checking the charge on his kinetic rifle."How did you get in here?" Bima asked, his voice tight."I told you, I handle the logistics," the Scout said, not looking up. "You’re heading into a pressurized dead zone. You don't think they’d send a green recruit in alone for a high-value core retrieval, do you? I’m the chaperone. Try not to embarrass yourself."Bima grit his teeth. "You didn't mention a partner.""Plans change. Usually when the variables are as volatile as you," the Scout replied, finally locking eyes with him through those tin

The cold air of the Black Spire’s lower egress bit into Bima’s skin, a sharp contrast to the humid, sweltering heat of the arena floor. He hadn't realized how much energy the spar with Kael had sapped from his system until he leaned against the soot-stained exterior wall, his breath hitching in ragged intervals.The Scout—the man who had approached him in the shadows—stood a few paces away, lighting a small, chemical-stick cigarette. The embers glowed with a sickly, synthetic green hue. He didn't look back as he spoke."You look like hell, kid," the Scout said, exhaling a plume of acrid, neon-tinged smoke. "I’ve seen plenty of hopefuls walk out of that deck, but most of them aren't standing upright."Bima wiped a smear of drying blood from his temple, his fingers brushing the pulsing violet mark on his wrist. "Most of them don't have a reason to stay standing.""Fair point," the Scout chuckled. He turned, leaning against the cold steel of the perimeter fence. "Look, I’m not here to co

The air in the arena tasted like scorched ozone. The white-hot sphere of energy in Kael’s palm crackled, the sound akin to a hive of angry hornets. Bima’s vision was flooded with glowing red vectors—the system’s desperate, high-frequency warnings screaming for him to move, to roll, to pray."You're done, trash!" Kael screamed, his face twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated arrogance."You're overextending, Kael!" Bima shouted back, his voice surprisingly steady despite the violent thrumming in his chest. "That move is going to burn you out before you even touch me!""Shut up!"Kael didn't wait. He thrust his hand forward, releasing the concentrated blast. It wasn't a precision strike; it was a chaotic wave of raw kinetic force, intended to level the section of the arena Bima occupied.Bima didn't scramble backward. He leaned into the encroaching heat, his feet shifting on the rubberized mat as if he were catching a heavy weight. His wrist—that dark, shifting geometric ink—pulsed

The iron gates of the Black Spire loomed over Bima like the jaws of a titan, cold, black, and utterly indifferent to his existence. He stood in the shadow of the massive structure, the digital timer on his retina counting down the final seconds until his scheduled meeting with Valentina.[MISSION: SURVIVE THE SPIRE][TIME REMAINING: 00:00:14]“You’re late,” a voice drifted from the darkness of the gatehouse.Bima squinted, his heart hammering against his ribs. A pair of Enforcers stepped into the spill of light, their kinetic rifles held at the ready. They were armored in matte-black plating that seemed to absorb the dim ambient glow of the city.“I was told to come at midnight,” Bima said, his voice steady despite the dry static vibrating in his throat.“Commander Cruz left word,” the first guard barked, his face hidden behind a polarized visor. “She says you’re to be escorted to the primary sparring deck. Try not to embarrass her, kid. She doesn't like wasting her time on charity ca

The mist in the alley didn’t just hang; it clung, heavy with the metallic tang of industrial waste and the lingering scent of ozone. Bima watched Valentina’s back as she walked, her stride rhythmic and calculated. Every movement she made was an insult to the chaotic, messy life of the Rust. She was too clean, too sharp, and far too dangerous to be standing in a place like this.Bima didn’t follow immediately. He stood rooted, his pulse thrumming against his wrist where the violet mark still glowed with a faint, phantom heat."Are you coming, or do you plan on waiting for the next patrol to find you?" Valentina didn't turn around, her voice cutting through the damp air like a blade.Bima exhaled, his lungs feeling tight. He stepped forward, his boots crunching over debris. "You didn't answer my question. Why me? There are thousands of kids in this city with cores that actually work. Most of them have more credits than I do."Valentina stopped near a rusted drainage pipe and turned. The

The morning sun didn’t penetrate the Rust. It just cast a sickly, jaundice-yellow light over the scrap-heaps and leaking pipes, turning the damp smog into a thick, suffocating blanket. Bima stared at his hands, still stained with the dark, viscous fluid of the Feral Rat.He dragged the heavy, stiffened carcass across the grit of the alley floor. It felt lighter than it should have, or maybe he was just starting to feel different. Every time his wrist pulsed with that violet hum, his muscles seemed to coil with a new kind of tension.He reached the heavy steel shutter of 'Silas’s Salvage,' the only place in the sector that traded in monster parts. He slammed his fist against the metal."We’re closed, kid! Get lost," a gravelly voice barked from behind the door."It’s Bima," he called out, his voice rasping from the night’s exertion. "I’ve got a Grade-F carcass. Fresh kill. Are you buying or not?"The shutter rattled upward, revealing a room that smelled like formaldehyde and rotted mea