Hybrid Minds

A novelby Angel Rios

Hybrid Minds

285 mph. Fifteen minutes. One shot.

In Veridia every person is an asset, a contract, or waste. One crew of Hive Island workers is about to find out which one they are.

Read the opening Get notified

Cover concept for Hybrid Minds: a dark armored cargo hauler with four glowing thrusters flies inches above a white maglev train at night, the title in split red and blue type above.
Cover concept B: “The Drop”

01 // Premise

The sky is a dead channel. The rain eats paint.

Veridia, the 2050s. Since the Crash, the corporations own the city, the air, and the people in it. Drew Rivers flies a battered heavy hauler called the Mule out of Bay 17 on Hive Island. It’s a rusted honeycomb where workers live stacked above the sump. The Saints live in a dome above the clouds.

Thirty miles outside the city, where the sky still remembers stars, Drew and his crew have fifteen minutes to pace a 285-mph maglev and lift four crates stamped Project Icarus. The drop doesn’t go to plan.

Then a Saint is waiting for Drew at Gate Four, with an offer no worker gets twice.

In Veridia your body is company property. What does it cost to stay human?

02 // World

Class is vertical.

  1. UpSaints The top eight to ten percent. Seventy-two degrees, forever, under an artificial sky.
  2. MidWorkers Contractors on debt chains. The crew lives here.
  3. DownGhosts The de-contracted, under tarps and neon in the sump.
A misty port megacity at night: rusted towers and cranes, a maglev line, a cargo aircraft, and a glowing dome floating above the clouds.
Havenport, Veridia // concept art

03 // Crew

Good at their jobs. In way over their heads.

05 // Excerpt

Chapter 1: The Drop

Havenport outskirts, Veridia. 0012 hours.

They staged where the world peeled into scrub and dead mag-pillars, thirty miles beyond the city glow where the sky still remembered stars. Ten miles of straight run lay ahead: ten miles to wind the Mule up hard enough to pace the MagLev Talon. They weren’t boosting a whole container, just a crate’s worth, and getting clear before anyone upstairs learned their names.

Drew crouched on the rain-slick hull of the Mule, watching the rails like he watched his own pulse, patient and hard. He thumbed his comm. “Nas, you sure this old bitch will hold? I don’t see how we match the Talon.”

Nas’s voice came back, filtered and distant from their warehouse HQ. “Relax that ass. I took care of it. Installed new parameters, stripped the trackers, and killed every non-mission draw to dump pure power into the engines. She’ll match the Talon. But you got fifteen minutes, tops. She’s a heavy gal and she’s not meant for that abuse.”

In the cockpit below, Rey sat in the passenger seat, a calm shadow, flicking a coin with his thumb, eyes on the dark line of rail. “Plenty of time. I’ve got my connect waiting to load us: cart number 15888, tenth in the chain.”

Drew nodded once, forcing a grin. “Sounds real easy. So be ready for the worst.”

Kilo cut in over comms from the cockpit of the idling Crosstech Outrider, its aftermarket mag-boosters breathing steam into the damp air. “Just dropped off the last of the drones. They’ll auto-activate as the train comes through. When the third one pings, match speed ASAP. You’ll come up right on it.”

“As soon as the third one pings, pack up and head back,” Drew ordered. “Stage near the city line and hold for my signal.”

Drew crouches on the rain-slick hull of the Mule at night, watching a glowing rail line run toward the distant city.
“Drew crouched on the rain-slick hull of the Mule, watching the rails.”

From the opening of Chapter 1. Text © 2026 Angel Rios. All rights reserved.

06 // Coming soon

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