Blackwater (2021)
The door had been sealed for decades, if not centuries. According to the only surviving scroll, the scribe and his priest had made certain it could never be opened again—until the world would need the power within once again.
The sinner had confessed and atoned. The Lord had granted her forgiveness. Her soul cleansed, her intentions pure, the Cardinals were finally taking her seriously, analysing her visions, the vivid imagery of impending doom.
It took them weeks to reach a unanimous decision. Perhaps it is already too late. The plagues have started. Soon, the fallen angel will descend upon the Earth, and the reaping will begin.
The door opens. The sinner and the bishop enter, holding on to what little hope remains.
What power awaits beneath Blackwater Church? Will it be enough?
(Spoiler: It’s bad-ass battle angels. Hallelujah!)
Escalation (2020)
The fleets have been staring each other down for hours.
All negotiation attempts have failed.
All de-escalation strategies approved by the Alliance have proven unsuccessful.
The admiral has given her command.
It’s twelve fighter squadrons and two capital ships under human control—against a wild horde of heavy metal space orcs.
Well, fuck.
Big One Begone (2020)
“You said seven midnight leaves ground to a pulp and cooked in boiling salt water!”
“I said seven twilight leaves rasped and stirred in lukewarm spring water!”
“I’m pretty sure you said—”
“YOU SUMMONED A BIG FUCKING DEMON FROG WITH ACID SPIT LET’S NOT ARGUE ABOUT WHAT I SAID!”
“Okay! Okay! Alright. What do we do?”
“You know what to do. This is a big one. For big ones, we call the airship!”
RIBBIT! BLAGH!
“Call! The! Fucking! Airship! Now!”
Conquer New Worlds (2018)
2170.
An ark embarks on the seven-year journey to Titan, the largest moon of Saturn.
2179.
A scouting party stumbles across a tablet on the bottom of a Titan lake. They soon decipher its contents: Coordinates. The origin of its unknown material, capable of surviving the freezing conditions with barely a scratch, remains a mystery. Reaching the coordinates will take them another ten years. Their curiosity is stronger than hard numbers. A team of ten leaves Titan.
2189.
Days after the explorers presumably reached the coordinates on the tablet, the ground team on Titan receives a five-word message: “It’s a wormhole. Stand by.” Hours later, the ship that left Titan in 2179 returns, appearing in orbit out of nowhere. On its hull, someone had crudely written its new name, Mayflower II.
2194.
After years of deliberation, Earth decides to abandon its plants of colonising the planets of the Milky Way. With the new possibilities offered by stable wormholes, new galaxies await, some harbouring Earth-like planets.
Humanity sets out to conquer new worlds.
Syria (2018)
Nothing but desert.
The riders of the caravan had been living here for decades. They felt like they knew every grain of sand and its family history. For the explorer from Rome, all of this was new. Sand as wide as the eye could see, and he was loving it.
Only one thing drew his attention away from the dunes, the camels, the Bedouins and the clear, hot sky.
Hafsah was leading the caravan. Her name, one of the men had explained, meant ‘young lioness’. She looked just as strong and ferocious. With every passing day, the explorer was losing himself more and more in her dark, mysterious eyes.
She was off limits. The fragile arrangement with the mighty Bedouins was at stake.
And yet, he couldn’t care less.