Novels by Manuel Sterling

One week.That's how long it took for Miko to stop hating Larok and start understanding him.The training was relentless. Every morning started with cold water and running. Every afternoon was combat drills until they couldn't lift their weapons. Every evening was endurance training that left them barely able to crawl to dinner.But they were getting better.Miko could see it. The way Garcia moved now—smoother, more confident even with one arm still healing. The way Liam's twin blades worked together instead of fighting each other. The way Blaze had stopped telegraphing his spear strikes.The way Miko himself could hold a defensive stance for an hour without his legs shaking.Progress. Slow. Painful. But real.Anna had recovered enough to join training. Not full intensity, but enough. Larok had her working on something different—meditation, he called it. Learning to sense corruption before it manifested."The Abyss has a feeling," he'd explained. "A wrongness you can detect if you kno

Miko woke to someone dumping cold water on his face.He gasped, sat up sputtering. Larok stood over him with an empty bucket."Good morning," the old man said cheerfully. "Training starts now.""It's still dark outside," Miko protested."So? The Abyss doesn't care about daylight." Larok tossed the bucket aside. "You've got five minutes to get to the training grounds. Anyone who's late runs laps until I'm satisfied."He left. Miko heard him moving to the next room. More water. Blaze's cursing.Miko pulled himself out of bed. Every muscle hurt. His hands were still torn up from yesterday's climb. His back felt like someone had beaten it with clubs.Five minutes.He dressed fast. Found his way to the courtyard. The others were already gathering, looking as miserable as he felt.Except Larok. He looked fresh. Energized. Like he'd slept twelve hours instead of maybe three."Everyone here?" He counted heads. "Good. Follow me."They followed him through an archway to a large open space behin

Dawn came cold and gray.Miko woke to Larok shaking his shoulder. "Time to move. We've got ground to cover."The team gathered their minimal supplies—mostly just weapons and whatever food they'd scavenged. Not much. They'd need to hunt or forage along the way."Which direction?" Garcia asked. Her arm was still in its splint, but she'd slept better than any of them. Probably used to functioning on no rest."North," Larok said. He pointed across the hills toward distant mountains. "See that peak? The one with the split top?"Everyone looked. The mountain was far. Really far."That's where we're going?" Blaze asked. "That's got to be three days at least.""Four if you walk slow," Larok agreed. "Three if you don't complain." He started walking. "Let's go."They followed. What else could they do?The first hour was quiet. Everyone too tired to talk. Just putting one foot in front of the other. The terrain was rough—hills and valleys, streams to cross, rocks to navigate.Anna was struggling

Eighteen minutes.That's how long they had before Larok's head snapped up."They're back," he said. Standing in one fluid motion. "Faster than I expected."Miko felt it too. A pressure in the air. Like static before lightning. The forest around them went quiet—no birds, no insects, just silence."How far?" Garcia was already on her feet, good hand on her blade."Close." Larok grabbed his axe-hammer. "Too close. They tracked us faster than they should have been able to.""How?" Liam asked."Later." Larok pointed deeper into the forest. "Northeast. There's a ravine about a mile that way. Rough terrain. Will slow them down.""Will it slow us down?" Blaze asked, struggling upright."Yes. But less than it'll slow them." Larok was already moving. "Now. Before they close the distance."They ran.Not fast. None of them could manage fast. But steady. Garcia led despite her broken arm, picking the path with a strategist's eye. Anna and Liam stuck together, both still weak from their injuries. B

The forest was darker than it should have been.Thick canopy blocked most of the sunlight, leaving everything in a green-tinted gloom. The ground was soft with years of fallen leaves. Quiet. Almost peaceful.They'd been walking for twenty minutes. Nobody had spoken since leaving the village. Too busy trying to process what they'd seen.Larok finally stopped in a small clearing. A stream ran through it, water clear and cold. He knelt by the edge, cupping his hands and drinking."This'll do," he said. "We're far enough from the village that collateral damage won't be an issue when the Trinide come looking.""When, not if," Blaze noted. He sat down heavily against a tree. "Great.""They'll come," Larok confirmed. "That's a given. Question is how prepared we are when they do."Miko sat on a fallen log. His hands were still shaking. Not from fear. From adrenaline burn-off. From watching Larok tear apart three immortal wraiths like they were made of tissue paper."How did you do that?" The

Ten minutes.Anna's healing had worked miracles in that time. Liam was on his feet, the hole in his chest closed over with fresh pink skin. Garcia's arm was set and splinted. Blaze could move again without screaming. Akiya's throat was still bruised but she could breathe properly.Not perfect. But functional.The sounds of fighting outside had quieted. Miko pushed himself upright, testing his weight. His legs held. His spine didn't collapse. Good enough."Everyone ready?" Garcia asked. Her voice was steadier than it had any right to be."No," Blaze said. "But when has that ever stopped us?"They moved to the doorway. The street outside was a mess. Craters in the cobblestones. Buildings with walls blown out. Black ichor splattered everywhere.And in the center of it all, Larok stood with his axe-hammer resting on his shoulder. The three Trinide were circling him, wary now. All three had visible wounds—places where their flickering forms weren't quite solid anymore.Larok saw them emerg

The press conference was a masterclass in corporate theater. Zen stood on the podium at the future site of Skyline, the skeletal framework of the unfinished building rising behind him like the bones of a slumbering giant. Construction equipment gleamed in the afternoon sun, workers in Mega-branded safety gear positioned strategically in the background.Camera flashes punctuated his arrival as journalists frantically took notes. The city's most prominent business reporters had rushed to the site following Mega's cryptic announcement of "significant developments regarding the Skyline project."Zen adjusted the microphone, his expression betraying nothing of the calculated vengeance driving his actions. Sinclair stood to the side, scanning the crowd with practiced vigilance, while Keisha managed the press at the perimeter."Good afternoon," Zen began, his voice carrying across the assembled media with commanding precision. "Thank you for joining us on such short notice. Today marks a sig

Night had fallen across the city as Zen sat alone in his office, the only illumination coming from his desk lamp and the soft glow of his computer screen. The Rossi loan documents were spread before him, each page meticulously annotated with his observations. The evidence was damning—predatory terms, hidden clauses, and what appeared to be deliberate manipulation of financial projections to ensure default.Mrs. Rossi had overplayed her hand, and now Zen had everything he needed to take control of the Skyline project.A soft ping from his security system alerted him to movement in the outer office. Zen glanced at his watch—11:47 PM. The cleaning staff had already finished hours ago, and his assistant had left shortly after six.He wasn't expecting anyone.With calmness, Zen closed the folder containing the loan documents and slid it into his desk drawer. He then pressed a concealed button beneath his desk, activating the silent recording system he'd installed for exactly this type of s

The Skyline project dominated the horizon, its partially completed towers rising like monoliths against the afternoon sky. Construction cranes swung in choreographed precision, while teams of workers navigated the massive structure with efficiency. Despite being 15 percent complete, the development already commanded attention—a testament to Tom's architectural vision and business ambition.Zen stood at the edge of the site, ostensibly reviewing progress reports while actually conducting a far more strategic assessment. Following Wilson's revelations about the underground infrastructure connections, a personal inspection had become necessary."The north tower foundation is proceeding ahead of schedule," James Wilson explained as they walked the perimeter. "Structural integrity tests exceeded specifications by twelve percent.""And the sublevel excavation?" Zen asked, his attention focused on the massive pit that would eventually become the project's underground parking and service are

Back in Zen’s Home country, after the whole heat has died down.Evelyn Rossi's office occupied the entire top floor of the Rossi Enterprises headquarters, a testament to both her inflated sense of importance and desperate need for the appearance of power. Floor-to-ceiling windows provided a 360-degree view of the city, including—Zen noted with satisfaction—a perfect sightline to the Skyline project rising in the distance. A project she'd foolishly leveraged her company to infiltrate."Mr. Diel," she greeted as he was ushered in by her assistant. Her voice carried the brittle warmth of someone trying to mask anxiety behind social pleasantries. "What an unexpected pleasure. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me."Zen moved into the spacious office with confident strides, each step calculated to remind her who truly held power in this room. He didn't wait for her invitation before settling comfortably in the chair opposite her desk."Avoiding you, Evelyn? Quite the contrary. I've

The yacht cut through darkening waters, its engines humming at three-quarter power as it navigated away from Saint-Malo's harbor. Security personnel had settled into cruising positions—two on the aft deck, one on the forward observation point, and two inside the main cabin with Zharkov and Nia. The remaining guards were likely positioned on the bridge and in the engine room, maintaining operational security throughout the vessel.Zen and Henri remained concealed near the outer deck storage compartments, using the shadows cast by the yacht's exterior lighting to avoid detection. The increasing distance from shore worked in their favor—intervention from harbor authorities becoming less likely with each passing minute."Approaching optimal position," Henri noted quietly, checking the GPS coordinates on his tactical device. "Five minutes to designated extraction point."Zen nodded. They had identified a stretch of water approximately three nautical miles from shore—far enough to avoid imm

Saint-Malo's ancient granite walls rose against the darkening sky, silhouetted by the setting sun as it dipped into the English Channel. The medieval fortifications had withstood centuries of sieges and storms, but now they served as mere backdrop to a far more immediate conflict. NiaZen studied the waterfront property through high-powered binoculars, his position on a neighboring rooftop offering optimal surveillance while maintaining adequate distance. The target—a modernist villa constructed with obvious disregard for the historic surroundings—sat directly on the water, complete with private dock where a sleek yacht waited, engines idling."Preparations for immediate departure," he noted, observing increased activity around the vessel. "Security detail?"Beside him, Henri adjusted his own observation equipment. "Eight visible. Professionally positioned. Two on the main approach, two patrolling the perimeter, four on the property itself.""Armed?""Concealed, but evident from their