Deadworld

Humans weren't meant to live underground, but then artificial intelligences weren't meant to feed off souls. Shit happens. Being a Potential is an honor. It qualifies me for the mandatory Run, the chance to become a Guardian and wield one of the only weapons that can disable a Genesis scout. It also means I'll have to leave the safety of my underground home and go topside, where the possibility of death goes up by eighty percent. Badges of honor mean nothing if you're dead. I'd rather steer clear of any place where soul sucking AI roam. I'd rather stay safe in the Hive and hangout with my wolf-shifter co-worker. I'd rather work on the mechanical heart that keeps the Hive running and spend time with my enigmatic nephilim mentor. Heck, I'd rather be doing anything else. But I've made a promise to my best friend, a promise to get her to the finish line in time to win a spot as Guardian. How hard can it be, right? We have a plan. So why do I feel as if something is about to go seriously wrong? It's a game. Just a game. Or is it? First came Chronicles of Midnight, then came Chronicles of Arcana, and now we have Chronicles of Deadworld. Set a hundred years after the events of its predecessors Deadworld takes you into a Post-Apocalyptic Urban fantasy world with a slow burn Whychoose Romance. You don't have to read the previous series, but man, if you do the thrill ride will be unlike any other.