Novels by Konice

The gate behind them didn't just close; it sealed with a heavy, pressurized hiss that echoed through the unnaturally quiet courtyard. Dimas felt the sound vibrate in his teeth."Welcome, Chef," the man in the white robes repeated, his voice smooth and airy, like he was reciting a well-rehearsed prayer. "We’ve been waiting to see what you could do with the ingredients we provide."Dimas stared at the kitchen. It was a masterpiece of stainless steel and industrial precision, sitting right in the middle of a world that was supposed to be rotting. "You’ve got a lot of high-end hardware for a place that's supposedly hiding from the system.""The system provides for those who understand its true purpose," the man replied, gesturing toward the gleaming countertops. "I am Brother Julian. We are the architects of the New Table."Rafael stepped up beside Dimas, his hand never straying more than an inch from the hilt of his broken sword. "The 'New Table'? Sounds like a cult name if I ever heard

Dimas stood frozen, his pulse drumming a frantic rhythm against the cold metal of the freezer door. The note didn't feel like a threat; it felt like a spotlight. He read the elegant, flowing script one more time, his fingers tracing the ink as if to verify it was real."Rafael?" he called out, his voice cracking. He didn't turn around, keeping his eyes locked on the paper.A heavy thud echoed from the hatch, followed by the clatter of a boot hitting the concrete. Rafael emerged from the shadows, his chest heaving, his armor stained with fresh grime. He slumped against the wall, sliding down until he hit the floor."Clear," Rafael gasped, wiping sweat from his brow. "They lost our trail at the secondary pier. I led them toward the container yard."Dimas didn't move. He held the paper out, his hand shaking. "Rafael. You need to see this."Rafael squinted in the dim, flickering emergency light of the warehouse. He stood up with a groan, taking the note. He read it in silence, his express

The neon haze of the city skyline cast long, flickering shadows against the brick facade of a derelict warehouse as Dimas and Rafael ducked into the relative safety of a shipping container. The air here was stale, smelling of rusted iron and salt, but for the moment, it was quiet.Dimas dropped his pack and pulled out the Dragon-Fire Saffron. It hummed in his hand, a dull, rhythmic vibration that seemed to sync with his own pulse."You’ve been staring at that thing like it’s going to start talking to you," Rafael said, leaning against the corrugated metal wall. He was still picking dried monster ichor off his jacket sleeve. "Is it going to explode again?""I don't think so," Dimas murmured, his eyes fixed on the microscopic runes etched into the pod. "The system says it’s 'Mythic.' Everything else I’ve found has been common or rare. This… this feels like it has a weight to it. Like it’s conscious."Rafael grunted, sliding down to sit on the floor. "Conscious or not, as long as it does

The golden light erupted from Rafael like a miniature sun, scouring the shadows from the corners of the basement. The massive creature—a sprawling, multi-limbed terror of scales and jagged bone—shrieked, a sound like grinding tectonic plates, and recoiled from the sheer intensity of the aura.Rafael didn’t wait for it to recover. He moved with a speed that defied physics, his boots cracking the concrete floor as he launched himself into the air."Stay down, Dimas!" Rafael roared, his voice layered with a resonant, metallic hum that wasn't there before."Don't you dare die on me, you idiot!" Dimas scrambled back, his hands still trembling from the heat of the cooking pot. "Finish it! Just finish it!"Rafael twisted in mid-air, his broken sword glowing with a blinding, iridescent indigo light—the residual energy of the infusion binding to the steel. The creature whipped a massive, spiked tail toward him, intending to swat him like a fly."Too slow!" Rafael barked, slashing through the a

The basement air was thick, swirling with iridescent violet steam that clung to the damp walls like a living thing. Dimas stared at the pan of 'Ether Broth,' his heart thudding in sync with the broth’s rhythmic, indigo pulse."You really did it, didn't you?" Rafael said, his voice quiet, almost reverent as he stepped closer. "That smell... it’s not just appetizing. It’s like it’s vibrating in my marrow."Dimas wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve, leaving a smudge of soot. "It’s doing something to the air pressure, too. Feel that?""I feel it," Rafael replied, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. "It’s not just us feeling it, either. The basement floor is starting to hum."Dimas glanced at the high, barred window. "Is that a bad thing? Please tell me that’s not a bad thing.""It depends on who—or what—is listening," Rafael said, his gaze shifting to the staircase. "That smell is a beacon, Dimas. A neon sign in a dark world.""I thought you said this place was secure

The transition through the ventilation shafts was a nightmare of dust, cobwebs, and the claustrophobic scent of recycled air. Dimas dragged the heavy pack of supplies, his knuckles scraping against the rusted interior of the ductwork, while Rafael moved ahead of him with the silent, predatory grace of a ghost."Keep your head down, kid," Rafael whispered back, his voice sounding oddly amplified in the narrow tunnel. "We’re almost to the basement of the old butcher shop. It’s got a concrete foundation. Thick walls. No windows for them to spot us through."Dimas adjusted his grip on the pack, his breath hitching as he felt a scrape of metal against his ribs. "Are you sure this place is secure? I can't be cooking if we’re getting raided every twenty minutes. My focus is ruined, and if my focus is ruined, the food quality drops.""It’s a butcher shop, Dimas. Think about the irony," Rafael chuckled, his eyes glinting in the dark. "It’s a fortress. I checked it out during the first wave. Th