Ace Umbra

Copyright © 2023 by PB Flower. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical reviews and various other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. The resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Cover Design E-book & Paperback – Pic Monkey Paperback Worldwide – Amazon KDP Quote Division is the basis of existence, and yet, we fight for oneness. - PB Flower Dedication My husband gave me the thematic idea for this book. He inspires me with concepts, and I turn them into fictional stories. Thank you for always being there. Inductions My narratives have a love triangle trope, as a rule. It is symbolic of our good and bad side. This story may not appeal in pieces if you don’t take a particular interest in science or philosophy. It is essentially a romantic novel with colorful delivery. There are many non-English terms used in it. Please refer to the Endnote to follow the translation. There is also a Casting section to give this story's complete list of characters. Blurb Ace Umbra is a supernatural romance shadowed by Regressive Grandfather Paradox. Get a buzz from the thrill of challenging an adaptive AI program with human intelligence. Savor several mythological retellings linking the events of a parallel Earth. All the while feasting on an angsty love triangle. The peace of an amoral aristocratic community is disturbed when a prominent member of the Elite society is murdered. His body refuses to decompose, and no one that knows him remembers that fateful day. Lux is an ambitious woman and a veteran detective. Her partner and boyfriend, Ace, is all but a rookie at the Bureau. She trusts her work and science while Ace hones on his metaphysical bent. When they are assigned to resolve this twisted predicament, trouble comes knocking. Ace is enamored on the spot by the widow of the deceased, Venus. Pushing him to weigh Lux's domineering arrogance against Venus's whimsical devilry. While moving forward, the crystalizing past unravels the malefic bygones by disbanding old alliances and turning the new ones concrete. More warped phenomenon promises to reveal the killer. Or perhaps, obscures them further. Thriller Elements Prologue Chapter 1 – Kama/Lust Chapter 2 – Moha/Infatuation Chapter 3 – Lobha/Greed Chapter 4 – Mada/Arrogance Chapter 5 – Matsarya/Stinginess Chapter 6 – Adbutha/Surprise Chapter 7 – Qayamat ki Raat/The Night Of About The Author Indic Inspiration Greek Glimpse Casting Welsh, Indic, Islamic & Scientific Terms Prologue Dark Flower Modern Age – Kali Yuga[i] Inceptive happenstance is a myth, as we always exist on a continuum. I t is an evening like any, but it is not. Sixteen years ago, the joy that came with my birth didn’t last much longer. Life, in general, is sucking happiness away. Father is always busy, leaving my mother unhappily alone. Around a year ago, her white blood cell count went mysteriously up. Every test came back negative, saying there was nothing wrong with her. The final but questionable diagnosis is Muscular Atrophy. Her persistent starvation habit of staying thin must be the cause of this ailment, not genetics. Unlike my mother, beseeching the Afreet[ii], I pay Ibaadat[iii] to the Dargah[iv] I live in – my body. Worshiping the sanctity of my temple, I treasure it every day. Just so I don’t inherit or pass on any memorized diseases to my children. It is too late for my mom. Her limbs have given up. My father’s sadistic love for her stopped him from spending his overflowing wealth to seek an experimental cure for her. My spineless mother’s candor for my father made her accept her fate. I pull an idle breath in and give the crowd gathered to celebrate me a once over. Greeting the guests, my mother glides around in her markedly decorated, newfangled, voice-prompted mobile. Accepting compliments from all who are swooning over the food tailored by a mysterious lady. Her catering talent was recommended by my father’s acquaintance. I eagle eye how her son is helping her like a good boy. All of my classmates are binging on his foreign accent and fetching looks. I am not alarmed by their symptomatic flirting. My graphic perception goes beyond the obvious, while theirs blend with the rest. I scope out what others can’t even begin to take a read of. My sensitivities harpoon past the material level, deconstructing matter into energy. The ordinary is thin on the ground to secure my attention. Only he is the bountiful angel to my succubus devilry, leaving me intrigued. His differentia calls me from a distance with the consummate power to preside over my impurity. I get a breadth of view of what many consider hex craft. A gravitating center deep within him discharges an extraordinary vitality visible to me alone. Aided by the inner tormentor from hell, I have forever destroyed everything. My ever-changing desires worry me. I pray to Diablo[v] to not let him see the real me. For it may scare him. Then I beg the Tempter he would. For I wish to see him terrified. But cocooning my adaptive mojo is my obligation so that it continues to sanctify me with dark prowess. I crave to know everything. And then be it. The Navajo may call me a Skinwalker[vi]. The scientific community may brand me esoteric. I am neither discarnate nor incarnate. Who am I really? I am a model shifter. Excusing myself from the crowd, I stand leaning on the center island. My reflection clearly falls on the French door for anyone entering the kitchen. It is a determined move to show myself only just and test his readings for me. As counted upon, he soon gets thirsty and comes for a glass of water. I hold my breath,