Tag
July 25, 2018 AD
With one patient stabilised and another wound of her own quietly worsening, Glenda drafts a desperate supply list that may put more than just resources at risk. As Luke prepares to cross a line for her, trust becomes the only currency left in a world where asking for help might cost them everything.
July 25, 2018 AD
The crisis demanded everything—steady hands, clear thinking, the calm that others needed to believe in. Glenda gave it all. Now the patient sleeps, the supplies are stacked in careful rows, and the tent has gone quiet. This is the part no one trains you for. The moment when there's nothing left to do, nothing left to hold onto, and the weight you've been carrying finally asks to be felt.
July 26, 2018 AD
When Joel’s impossible survival defies all medical logic, Glenda finds herself at the edge of science—and the heart of a secret no one was ready to face. As tensions erupt and buried truths come to light, she must make a decision not only about the body before her, but the fragile trust binding the group together.
July 27, 2018 AD
Morning brings clarity, tension, and a quietly defiant patient. As Glenda assesses Joel’s injuries and their implications, she finds herself caught between duty and diplomacy—navigating not only a fragile body, but a shifting balance of power that could shape the camp’s future.
July 28, 2018 AD
A stranger emerges from the darkness with blood on her arrow and calm in her voice. In a night already fractured by chaos, Glenda must decide whether this hunter is salvation or just another kind of danger.
July 26, 2018 AD
Everyone has secrets here. Glenda's is older than the others realise—older than Bixbus, older than the impossible boy who keeps dying and coming back. When Paul asks what she knows, she deflects. When the fire burns low and the questions grow sharper, she retreats. But alone in her tent, the deflection falls away. Her father spoke of this place. He vanished into it. And she's beginning to believe he's still alive.
July 25, 2018 AD
As the chaos settles, Glenda finds a rare moment of quiet at the river’s edge—until a hesitant conversation with Paul uncovers more than just practical limitations. With hope and doubt quietly entwined, the idea of a bridge becomes more than an engineering problem—it becomes a test of trust, purpose, and the quiet courage to imagine connection in a fractured world.
July 27, 2018 AD
Around the campfire, everyone has an opinion about who should do what, who isn't pulling their weight, and whose job it is to fetch the bloody mail. But after the arguments settle and the plates are scraped clean, something else rises from the embers. Joel begins to sing. Glenda retrieves her violin. And in the music, she finds something she didn't know she was looking for—a resolve that refuses to be written by anyone else.
July 27, 2018 AD
As butter chicken warms bellies and tensions simmer around the fire, Glenda watches an ordinary meal unravel into a quiet referendum on leadership, trust, and whose job it is to fetch the bloody mail. Between jabs, jostling, and one ill-timed road-building suggestion, Clivilius reminds its newest residents: civilisation isn’t built with rules—it’s built with restraint. Usually.
July 25, 2018 AD
As the day fades into dusk, Glenda finds a fragile calm in the firelight beside Paul—but serenity proves fleeting. Torn between the urge to connect and the instinct to protect what’s left of herself, she retreats to what she knows best: care, control, and the quiet duty of tending wounds—others' before her own.
July 26, 2018 AD
When Paul reveals a wound with disturbing similarities to Jamie’s, Glenda must act quickly—and improvise. As a desperate test of river water produces extraordinary results, she finds herself walking the edge between science and something stranger, clinging to the hope that instinct might succeed where evidence fails.
July 27, 2018 AD
When Chris reveals a set of ancient coins, Glenda is drawn into a confrontation that fractures alliances and awakens something older than any of them understand. As truths are fought for and secrets clawed back from the firelight, she begins to realise: this isn’t just a discovery—it’s an invitation. And someone, somewhere, may already be listening.
July 28, 2018 AD
Trapped in fear and darkness, Glenda braces for the worst. As a dog, a doctor, and a tech-savvy companion form an unlikely surgical team, the flicker of a smartphone becomes a beacon not just of light, but of purpose—and the fight for Kain’s life begins in earnest.
July 25, 2018 AD
Her father told stories about doorways made of colour. Glenda half-believed them—the way you half-believe anything beautiful and impossible. But now a patient is whispering words that should never be spoken aloud, and the wall is bleeding light, and her phone shows one word from the man she loves: Run. Some doors only open once. Some choices can't be unmade. She steps through. He follows. And neither world will be the same.
July 27, 2018 AD
When Karen and Chris uncover living soil beneath Clivilius' crust, Glenda finds herself caught between scientific wonder and impossible hope. But as tiny seedlings push through the dust and tensions stir around them, the discovery of life becomes more than a curiosity—it becomes a declaration. And something is coming. Fast.
July 25, 2018 AD
As the aftershocks of a dangerous encounter ripple through the clinic, Glenda finds herself drawn into a revelation far beyond the bounds of medicine. When a patient offers her not only answers but a doorway into another world, she must choose between safety and the unknown—knowing there’s no return.
July 25, 2018 AD
Duke growls. Henri destroys medical supplies. And somewhere between the chaos of dogs and the quiet ritual of wound care, a man who's spent all day being hostile finds two words he didn't know he had in him. The doctor who's endured his hostility hears them land—and something between enemy and ally shifts into unfamiliar territory.
July 25, 2018 AD
With critical supplies finally in hand, Glenda takes control of a high-stakes medical intervention that pushes her to the edge of exhaustion. But as pain recedes and quiet returns, it’s not just wounds that begin to heal—trust is tested, apologies are offered, and Glenda realises that Clivilius isn’t just a detour; it’s becoming her world.
July 27, 2018 AD
As Glenda sets Joel’s broken finger, tension in the tent spirals into confrontation—and revelation. While pain draws one patient inward, silence wraps another in secrecy, leaving Glenda to wonder: is someone protecting the truth, or rewriting it? In Clivilius, even healing comes with a cost.
July 26, 2018 AD
As twilight settles over the camp, Joel returns—on his feet, breathing, and bleeding. Glenda’s relief is short-lived as medical instinct clashes with the impossible. In a world where death no longer obeys, she must choose how much she trusts her training—and how much she’s willing to accept she no longer understands.
July 26, 2018 AD
As Glenda performs the most precarious procedure of her life, the boundaries between life, death, and something else begin to dissolve. When Joel gasps back into motion, chaos erupts—and Glenda is left with a truth medicine can’t explain and a choice compassion won’t let her refuse.
July 25, 2018 AD
You don't realise what held you together until you're somewhere that doesn't. The tent is absurdly large for one person. She has no bedclothes, no change of clothes, nothing but a thin blanket and the dust that clings to everything. Pierre's voice isn't humming from another room. Lois's paws aren't padding across the floor. The silence here isn't just quiet—it's the absence of them. But she kneels anyway, and the words come, trembling but held. Gratitude has always been her anchor. Tonight it feels like a desperate grasp at stability.
July 28, 2018 AD
A night that begins with quiet reflection turns violently surreal when an unknown force breaches the boundary between comfort and chaos. As fear takes shape in growls, screams, and impossible light, Glenda and the others must confront a truth more terrifying than monsters: they are no longer the only ones here.
July 28, 2018 AD
As tensions ripple through the camp in the wake of loss and a brutal ultimatum, Glenda teeters on the edge of collapse—until a mysterious surge of power reframes everything. With truth, rage, and ancient inheritance colliding, a new force stirs within her… and Clivilius finally answers back.
July 25, 2018 AD
A doctor's job is to act. To diagnose, to treat, to fix what's broken. But sometimes the hardest part of medicine is the space between—when the list has been written, the messenger has gone, and all that remains is a tent full of hostility and a river that flows toward a father who might still be out there. Glenda knows how to heal. She's still learning how to wait.
July 28, 2018 AD
As Kain’s life hangs in the balance, Glenda must navigate failing light, limited tools, and the rising panic of a wound that defies explanation. With Chris beside her and the risk of fire looming, every decision becomes a test—not just of skill, but of nerve, trust, and the will to do what must be done before dawn arrives.
July 25, 2018 AD
As Glenda navigates the nightly ritual of care inside a tent patrolled by a possessive dog and a prickly patient, she finds her resilience tested in unexpected ways. Amid chewed bandages, quiet vulnerability, and a fragile truce, one simple “thank you” proves more disarming than any wound she’s treated.
July 27, 2018 AD
When a new pair arrives through the Portal—conflicted, confused, and unsettlingly informed—Glenda is forced to weigh instinct against hospitality. As questions about Luke, the world beyond, and a so-called “facility” surface, the strangers’ presence threatens more than the camp’s routine—it may unravel the truths they thought they understood.
July 25, 2018 AD
Alone in her makeshift quarters, Glenda confronts the disorientation of a world without anchors. As memories of home and ritual collide with the red dust of Clivilius, she fights to reclaim a sense of self—one whispered word of gratitude at a time.
July 27, 2018 AD
As the camp stirs to life in the wake of impossible events, Glenda juggles quiet check-ups, shifting sleeping arrangements, and the strange normality that follows crisis. But beneath the soft light of morning, every gesture carries weight—and even the simplest routines hint at fractures, questions, and fragile threads of connection just beginning to take hold.
July 26, 2018 AD
A scavenged muesli bar and a misplaced guide to cement-laying set the tone for a morning that’s equal parts absurd and grounding. As Glenda takes stock of their limited supplies—and Paul’s questionable building ambitions—moments of quiet comedy and shared humanity help shape something new: the fragile beginnings of a future in Clivilius.
July 26, 2018 AD
The camp's only doctor should probably avoid getting elbowed in the jaw—especially when there's no ice, no clinic, and the man who hit her wasn't even aiming. Kain came through the Portal looking for his uncle. Glenda was cataloguing supplies. Somewhere between the split knuckles and the reluctant handshake, Clivilius gained a construction expert who never applied for the job, and its doctor learned that first impressions here leave bruises.
July 25, 2018 AD
The sky offers nothing—no moon, no stars, just black pressing down like a held breath. Two people sit by a fire that feels smaller than it should, trading truths they've been carrying alone. The storm that burned Jamie. The world that won't let them leave. And then, before she retreats to the tent, Paul gives her something unexpected. A word. A claim. A beginning.
July 26, 2018 AD
Four people stand over a corpse that refuses to make sense. The doctor finds healed arteries and empty veins. The nephew watches his uncle's anger turn cold and sharp. The partner keeps his calm a little too well. And somewhere beneath grey skin and a ruined throat, a chest keeps rising and falling like the dead man hasn't quite finished dying. Everyone sees something different. No one sees the whole truth.
July 26, 2018 AD
In the firelight hush of Clivilius, Glenda initiates a ritual of gratitude that exposes fractures, opens wounds, and for a brief moment, stitches something like family from the silence. But as laughter cracks the spell and shadows swallow one of their own, Glenda is left with the weight of the day, the echo of her father's theories—and the first whisper of a promise she can’t yet explain.
July 27, 2018 AD
Glenda’s world tilts when a golden blur returns joy to the campsite—and a set of keys leads her to something even more precious. As the dust is swept from old memories and new purpose flickers into view, one boy’s quiet determination and one woman’s aching reunion converge to remind them all: not everything that matters is lost in the crossing.
July 28, 2018 AD
With Kain's condition deteriorating and time slipping away, Glenda scrambles to stabilise the damage and make a near-impossible decision. As morning light creeps across the camp and support from unlikely allies forms around her, the urgency to reach the lagoon becomes more than just medical—it’s personal, tactical, and terrifyingly final.
July 26, 2018 AD
As the firelight fades and the night's silence deepens, Glenda finds herself at the centre of quiet suspicion and unspoken fears. When Luke vanishes into the dark and the Portal flares to life, secrets long buried stir at the edges of the camp—raising questions about who knows what, and who might not be coming back.
July 27, 2018 AD
In a world that offers nothing but dust and silence, Glenda discovers that some things follow you between dimensions—and not all of them can be explained by science or survival. Between impossible growth and unexpected arrivals, she's learning that hope sometimes hides in the smallest, most stubborn places.
July 25, 2018 AD
A stranger arrives through the Portal—tall, blonde, professional. A doctor, Luke announces, as if that explains everything. But Jamie wakes mid-surgery, pinned down and screaming while hands he doesn't recognise extract something horrifying from his chest. Outside, Luke clutches the dogs and listens to every cry. Inside, Glenda works with a t-shirt for a cloth and no anaesthetic. Four people, one emergency, and the grey mess on a ruined shirt that proves how close death had come.
July 27, 2018 AD
A failed fry-up spirals into a morning of small victories and sharp edges as Glenda battles open flame, canine politics, and human tension in equal measure. But when a scream shatters the fragile calm, comfort gives way to urgency—and the camp’s quiet rhythms are broken by the unknown, again.
July 26, 2018 AD
Dragged into the shimmering haze of a moment no science can explain, Glenda finds herself sidelined—watching the impossible unfold from the bank of a lagoon that answers to no rulebook. As life flickers back into a body she had already let go, the hardest task becomes waiting—powerless, restless, and gripped by a truth that refuses to stay still.
July 28, 2018 AD
As the adrenaline fades and exhaustion sets in, Glenda steps into the silence beyond the firelight—and finds the carcass of the creature that nearly killed Kain. In the shadow of its massive frame, questions gather faster than answers, and even rest comes dressed in readiness. Clivilius is not done with them yet.
July 26, 2018 AD
As the relentless heat tests the limits of endurance, a conversation about bridge-building sparks more than just logistics—it reveals fault lines and growing connections in the shifting dynamic between Glenda, Paul, and Kain. With practicality and purpose colliding beneath a half-raised tent, Glenda finds herself balancing hope, misdirection, and the quiet art of keeping everyone just stable enough to carry on.
July 27, 2018 AD
The hardest thing isn't fixing the injury—it's deciding who gets to lead once the bleeding stops. Joel has a broken finger and a memory that won't cooperate. When Glenda asks what he remembers, his answer comes too fast: No. Just that. A clipped end to her hopes of clarity. Has Jamie told him what not to say? The suspicion settles like smoke she can't wave away. Meanwhile, breakfast burns, tempers flare, and somewhere near the Portal, a woman screams.
July 26, 2018 AD
When a lifeless stranger is pulled from the river near camp, panic, suspicion, and moral conflict surge through the group. As the mystery deepens and the stakes shift with terrifying speed, Glenda must confront the chilling truth: Clivilius doesn't just challenge survival—it tests what kind of people they’re willing to become.
July 25, 2018 AD
A doctor steps into a world she's only heard stories about. A brother waits with news he'd rather not deliver. And a man who brought them all together is about to learn whether his desperate plan was worth the cost. Three perspectives. One destination. The tent isn't far—but what waits inside will determine whether any of this mattered at all.
July 26, 2018 AD
A body in the river. A camp full of people who'd rather argue than act. And a scream from the lagoon that doesn't wait for anyone to finish their sentence. Glenda has treated trauma before — cardiac arrests, epidemics, casualties in places where resources ran out before hope did. But nothing in her training prepared her for a boy with his throat cut ear to ear who hasn't stopped breathing.
Glenda Donger grew up in Zurich listening to her father's impossible stories — tales of portals, guardians, and worlds beyond reach. She dismissed them as fantasy and chose medicine instead, building a career that carried her from the jungles of Borneo to the consulting rooms of Hobart. Then one afternoon, mid-appointment, everything her father ever told her turned out to be true. Now a healer in a world without hospitals, a leader in a settlement built from dust, and a daughter still searching for the man whose stories started it all — this is her complete, unfiltered life.
July 25, 2018 AD
Arriving in the desolate silence of Clivilius, Glenda is haunted by the absence of the world her father once described. But when an unseen danger threatens a young man’s life, her instincts as a doctor override her disorientation. With few tools and even fewer certainties, Glenda steps into a role she knows—one where hesitation costs lives.
July 28, 2018 AD
Grief is an anchor. But sometimes it marks the spot where the fire starts. Duke is dead. Joel is missing. Charity demands Jamie choose—farewell or rescue—and offers no room for both. As the camp fractures under impossible choices, Glenda presses her hand to the coins at her chest and screams at Clivilius for answers. It doesn't reply with words. It replies with fire. And in that burning, she knows: her father is alive.
July 28, 2018 AD
As the sun rises over a strangely silent camp, Glenda is forced to confront the cost of the night before. With Duke gone, Joel missing, and Jamie broken in more ways than one, she must hold steady—offering ritual, presence, and quiet command in a moment where everyone else is on the edge of falling apart.
July 28, 2018 AD
In the wind-swept aftermath of trauma, Glenda is confronted by a bloodstained stranger whose calm hides more than it reveals. As the darkness closes in and something stirs beyond the firelight, trust becomes a gamble—and survival a negotiation between instinct, memory, and the terrifying possibility that not all threats come with claws.
July 26, 2018 AD
A scream tears across the morning stillness, drawing Glenda to the lagoon where life, death, and the unexplainable collide. As tensions erupt and logic falters, she must rely on instinct and experience to respond to a scene that defies everything she knows—because in Clivilius, even the dead don’t always stay dead.
July 26, 2018 AD
On Earth, the day began with alarms. Here, it begins with silence that won't explain itself. Glenda's first full morning in Clivilius brings a sleeping man by a cold campfire, a naked man she wasn't expecting, and a muesli bar that tastes like hope. But beneath the awkward laughter and small human moments, something else is taking shape—a question she can't yet answer. Jamie's wounds are healing too fast. Both the decline and the recovery were too swift. What is this world doing to their bodies?
July 26, 2018 AD
A morning check-up turns unexpectedly awkward for Glenda when she walks in on a very unready Jamie—but the laughter that follows marks a turning point. As wounds heal faster than expected and simple routines begin to re-emerge, Glenda starts to question what Clivilius might be doing to their bodies… and what it’s already doing to their minds.
July 26, 2018 AD
The quiet order of the morning is shattered when the Portal flares to life, delivering a young man full of fury—and unanswered questions. As tensions boil over into violence and revelations crack open the fragile calm of camp, Glenda is forced to navigate the volatile space between protector, mediator, and medic. And then comes the scream.
July 25, 2018 AD
The fire asks nothing. It simply burns—curling paper plates into ash, casting faces in amber, carving a small circle of certainty out of an uncertain world. Two people sit in its glow, close enough to speak but separated by everything they're not saying. One offers a door. The other steps around it. Sometimes the hardest walls to breach aren't built from stone—they're built from the need to stay standing.
July 25, 2018 AD
In the quiet aftermath of crisis, Glenda sits by the fire with Paul as truths simmer just beneath the surface. With no stars above and no road back, the group begins to anchor itself to something fragile but real: a name, a plan, and the faintest flicker of belonging in a world that feels determined to forget them.
July 25, 2018 AD
In the heat and dust of Clivilius, Glenda is thrust into an emergency that strips medicine down to its rawest form. Faced with infection, improvisation, and a volatile patient, she must hold her nerve when control is a memory—and compassion is tested to its limits.
July 28, 2018 AD
In the firelight’s fragile glow, Glenda watches leadership solidify, trust fracture, and instinct override protocol. As Kain bleeds and Charity tests the edges of the group, Glenda steps forward—not to ask, but to act—reminding them all that survival isn’t granted. It’s enforced.
July 28, 2018 AD
The surgery is done, the bleeding stopped, but Glenda steps outside to find that survival leaves its own kind of wreckage. Some monsters don't disappear when you close your eyes—they wait by the fire, massive and still, daring you to understand what almost happened.
July 26, 2018 AD
As a new day breaks over Clivilius, Glenda wakes to a world unsettling in its stillness. With Paul asleep and Jamie recovering, she surveys the alien landscape—and the quiet truths it reveals about their vulnerability, their isolation, and the weight of the roles they’re all being forced to inhabit.
July 25, 2018 AD
A cough in an examination room. A coded message sent into silence. Two men in uniform who don't knock twice. Glenda has spent years learning to read the signs—the patterns that emerge when power stops pretending to follow its own rules. Today the signs are clear: a negative test result means nothing when the wrong people are watching. The patient is taken anyway. And Glenda is left to wonder who might be next.
July 26, 2018 AD
Jamie holds the tray while Glenda stitches his son's throat closed—every needle pierce a test of what he can witness without breaking. She's brilliant. The wound closes. And then Joel gasps, convulses, and goes still. Medicine has reached its limits. But a voice in Jamie's mind offers something that sounds like madness—and Glenda must choose between logic and compassion.
July 25, 2018 AD
With the adrenaline of survival fading, Glenda is left alone beside a sleeping patient and the silence she can no longer outrun. As composure unravels and memory closes in, she must confront the raw weight of her displacement—and the crushing truth that in Clivilius, healing may begin only where certainty ends.
July 27, 2018 AD
There are silences that swallow you whole—and others that ask if you're ready to listen. Karen lands in rust-coloured dust with her husband's hand in hers and a voice in her head telling her to calm herself. She doesn't panic. She doesn't scream for rescue. She says: This is our home now. Glenda arrives expecting confusion and finds something worse—a stranger who asks about capitals and breeding facilities, concepts that don't exist in the tiny settlement Glenda knows. How does this woman know more about Clivilius than the people already living here?
July 28, 2018 AD
At the edge of the lagoon, Glenda guides a desperate attempt to save Kain's leg—knowing full well the pain it will bring. As ancient waters stir and tensions rise, one decision becomes a test of trust, resolve, and the quiet power of letting someone else take the lead.
December 5, 2022 AD
Thrown into an unfamiliar world with nothing but her medical kit and a backlog of questions, Dr. Glenda De Bruyn never asked to lead. But when strangers start arriving—wounded, lost, and dangerous—triage becomes survival. Each decision risks more than a life; it tests what remains of her logic, loyalty, and control. As the lines blur between science and myth, Glenda must confront not only the fractures in her patients—but the ones inside herself. In Clivilius, everyone bleeds. Not everyone gets patched up.
July 25, 2018 AD
Left alone with a guarded patient and an even more territorial dog, Glenda must navigate a quiet standoff in the wake of chaos. As hostility gives way to something like understanding, a bucket of water, a small dog, and silence become unlikely tools in forging the first fragile thread of trust.
July 27, 2018 AD
As Joel’s unexpected song stirs something unspoken around the campfire, Glenda rediscovers an old part of herself—and a new resolve. What begins as a moment of shared music unfolds into something deeper: an awakening, a quiet challenge, and the first spark of questions that can no longer be ignored.
July 25, 2018 AD
When Glenda encounters a frail patient with a cough that doesn’t sit right, her clinical instincts stir something deeper—a flicker of dread. As uniformed enforcers cross the threshold of her examination room, Glenda finds herself caught between duty and deception, in a system where even a negative test result isn’t enough to protect the vulnerable.
July 27, 2018 AD
Karen and Chris arrive at the encampment, and with them come new tensions, tentative introductions, and the unsettling echo of an engine in a world that shouldn’t have any. As dust settles—literally and figuratively—Glenda is forced to weigh trust, practicality, and the strange choreography of forming a community with people who might not be as new to this world as they first seem.
July 28, 2018 AD
The walk back from the lagoon should be simple. Instead, it carries the weight of everything the night left behind — a scratch that tells a story Glenda hasn't heard, a silence in camp that speaks louder than words, and the growing certainty that the losses aren't finished counting themselves.
July 28, 2018 AD
A night that begins with quiet reflection and half-remembered stories becomes something else entirely when the darkness answers back. Glenda learns that Clivilius has teeth—and they're closer than anyone imagined.
July 28, 2018 AD
Dawn brings a diagnosis no one expected. The wound is healing — but something's wrong with the leg that was never touched. Glenda knows only one cure. Kain knows only that he'd rather face another shadow panther than return to those waters, and he can't say why.
You can't measure a miracle. But you can sit beside it, fists clenched, trying not to scream. Joel gasps back to life in the lagoon and Glenda watches from the bank—restrained, powerless, her medical training useless against something that defies every textbook she's ever read. Then Paul shows her his arm: grey, necrotic tissue spreading from where Joel grabbed him. She has one idea. The river water burned when it touched the wound. It also healed it. Somewhere between resurrection and wet bandages, between bridge plans and deflected questions, Glenda begins to understand: this world plays by different rules.
End of list
Luke Smith's world transforms with the discovery of a cryptic device, thrusting him into the guardianship of destiny itself. His charismatic charm and unpredictable decisions now carry weight beyond imagination, balancing on the razor's edge between salvation and destruction. Embracing his role as a Guardian, Luke faces the paradox of power: the very force that defends also threatens to annihilate. As shadows gather and the fabric of reality strains, Luke must navigate the consequences of his actions, unaware that a looming challenge will test the very core of his resolve.
Jamie Greyson was shoved through a Portal into a dimension that shouldn't exist, by a partner he no longer trusts. In the dust and desperation of Clivilius, the son he'd only just begun to know arrives with a slit throat and no heartbeat. The lagoon brings Joel back. But when Jamie begs for a second miracle, Clivilius answers with silence. Some debts, it seems, are only paid once.
Thrown into an unfamiliar world with nothing but her medical kit and a backlog of questions, Dr. Glenda De Bruyn never asked to lead. But when strangers start arriving—wounded, lost, and dangerous—triage becomes survival. Each decision risks more than a life; it tests what remains of her logic, loyalty, and control. As the lines blur between science and myth, Glenda must confront not only the fractures in her patients—but the ones inside herself. In Clivilius, everyone bleeds. Not everyone gets patched up.
Men are vanishing across Tasmania, and Detective Senior Constable Karl Jenkins is running out of time, patience, and sanity. Every lead points to Luke Smith—but proving it means crossing lines Karl can't uncross. He breaks into houses without warrants. He sees faces in windows that shouldn't be there. He chases the wine-soaked Gladys Cramer through high-speed pursuits only for her to slip away. His partner becomes collateral damage. His sergeant's warnings go ignored. Karl knows something monstrous is happening on this island, and he'll tear through every boundary to expose it. Even if it destroys him.
Gladys Cramer wasn’t looking for trouble—just a quiet glass of red and maybe a cat that actually came when called. But when a Portal opens, a body turns up, and a man with too many secrets begs her trust, Gladys is pulled into something vast, strange, and far too dangerous. She doesn’t know the rules. She doesn’t want the job. Dryly funny, quietly furious, and not at all qualified—Gladys is about to learn that staying out of it doesn’t mean staying safe.
When a series of disappearances grips Tasmania’s remote edges, Detective Sarah Lahey is drawn into a case that threatens to unravel her—professionally and personally. As tensions flare with fellow detective Karl Jenkins, trust becomes a gamble neither can afford. In the search for truth, they’ll find the shadows run deeper than they imagined. Into the Dark is a haunting thriller about loyalty, obsession, and the cost of stepping beyond the light.
Joel Gibbons had never been anywhere. Hadn't finished school. Hadn't met his father. Hadn't done much except show up for his mum and hope that counted for something. A passport application changed everything—a name on a birth certificate, a coincidence that put him in the wrong place, and a death he didn't see coming. Joel should have stayed dead. Instead, he woke in glowing water—claimed before he even drew breath—gasping back to life with three words branded somewhere deeper than skin. You are mine.
