Blackout Protocol

Stylish writing, but a few sticking points kept me from being fully engaged. The worldbuilding skews evocative—those lines about the river being a 'black mirror' and the custody beacon humming are nice—but the piece relies on a string of familiar beats: ex-engineer with a tragic past, privatized security company gone bad, ragtag team to assemble. The CoreX as a small device with outsized consequences is a classic MacGuffin move; it works if the author later explains the mechanisms or political implications, but the excerpt leaves that vague. I also noticed a couple of thin spots in characterization: Elena's guilt is referenced repeatedly, but we see only flashes rather than the lived-through choices that would make her fully three-dimensional. Pace can be a problem too—the opening lingers on ambiance while the 'ticking cascade' threat only just begins to register. If the novel spends the next sections deepening interpersonal stakes and showing the mechanics of the blackout threat, I'll be sold. As-is, it's competent but not yet essential reading.

I wanted to like this more than I did. The setup has potential—a weaponized infrastructure, a guilty ex-engineer, a stolen stabilizer—but the excerpt leans heavily on familiar tropes without fully earning urgency. The waterfront scene is moody, yes, but it reads like a checklist of cyberpunk imagery: diesel, sodium lamps, black water, etc. Elena's backstory about the accident that killed a technician is meant to add heft, but it's delivered in a broadly familiar way and feels like shorthand for 'let her be brooding.' The CoreX is intriguing, yet the piece hints at its power without giving a clear sense of why it's truly game-changing beyond being small and dangerous. I also worry about pacing—there's a lot of setup and atmospheric detail but not quite enough momentum in the excerpt to sell the ticking cascade as imminent. I'm curious to see if the full story deepens the characters and fills those gaps, but right now it feels promising rather than compelling.

Emotional, efficient, and wonderfully grim. The excerpt puts you immediately in Elena's head—her past experiment, the technician who died, and the self-imposed exile into black ops feel raw and personal rather than tacked-on. The moment where she recognizes the custody beacon's frequency and the sealed transport slides forward made my pulse pick up; you can feel her training and her guilt colliding. I appreciated the human touches (a night’s wage, the lie to herself about the job being 'just a job') that keep the plot from becoming pure spectacle. There's also a great promise here of found-family dynamics when she has to assemble that ragged team—I'm rooting for her to reclaim control of both the CoreX and her own conscience. Excellent start.

Fast, focused, and with just enough tech to be convincing. I loved the detail of the CoreX being 'small enough to fit a man's cupped hands'—it makes the stakes human-scaled even as the threat is city-wide. Elena is an excellent lead: expert, haunted, practical (hands on the metal bar like it's part of her body), and not a stereotype. The waterfront/warehouse scene is a solid opener—diesel, rain, tired sodium lamps, and cranes that could hide a sniper. The convoy choreography and the custody beacon's hum give the scene a real cinematic quality. I'm excited to see how the author handles the team-building and the race to stop a blackout; the premise that a privatized firm weaponizes infrastructure is timely and terrifying. This one kept me glued to the excerpt and eager for the next chapter.

Beautifully atmospheric and character-driven for an action piece. From the diesel-scented waterfront to the sealed transport sliding forward, every sentence paints a clear image. Elena’s internal conflict—engineer turned mercenary, haunted by an accident that killed a technician—gives the action real emotional gravity. The CoreX device is a clever centerpiece: small, shielded, and impossibly consequential. I was particularly struck by the description of how traffic moves with 'practiced choreography' and the radios whispering on subsonic channels; those touches make the world feel lived-in. The excerpt ends at a cliffhanger, and I’m invested enough in the protagonist to want the full arc: how she goes from hiding to assembling that ragged team, and whether she can reclaim what she built. This is atmospheric, tense, and morally engaged—exactly the kind of cyberpunk thriller I crave.

This hit the sweet spot between gritty cyberpunk and old-school heist movie. I grinned at details like the custody beacon humming specifically to Elena—so cool—and the CoreX being small enough to cup in your hands but big enough to wreck a city. The dock ambush setup made me think of every great action-prologue: cranes for cover, sodium lamps casting tired light, everyone moving like a rehearsed troupe until someone screws up. The prose has a nice snap, not overcooked with purple adjectives, and Elena’s guilt arc (she walks away from clean labs to black ops) feels earned. Honestly, I want more of the ragged team already—give me the hacker with a gambling problem and the ex-squadmate who still owes her a favor. If this is a taste of the full story, sign me up for the ride. Also, that custody beacon hummed at a frequency tuned to Elena’s ear? Rad. 🎧🔥

A smart, propulsive start. The prose combines a mechanic's precision with noir atmosphere—there's real muscle in the way Elena reads diagrams like people. The CoreX device is handled well as both tech object and emotional linchpin: small enough to cradle, heavy enough to destroy a life. I particularly liked the scene-setting at the docks; the choreography of the convoy, radios on subsonic channels, and the idea of turning infrastructure into a weapon are chillingly plausible in this privatized-security world. The author also resists easy villainization—Fortis Security feels systemic rather than cartoonish, which raises the stakes beyond a simple heist. My favorite beat is the memory of the demonstration that burned the young technician; it imbues Elena's present choices with real moral weight. This excerpt promises a thriller that will be as much about ethical repair as it is about sabotage and suspense.

Tight, atmospheric, and technically satisfying. The author does a fine job of balancing action beats with plausible cyberpunk infrastructure detail—the CoreX as a small but potent energy stabilizer is a convincing McGuffin because it’s grounded in Elena’s backstory. Lines like “her hands resting on the metal bar of the defensive rig as if it were an extension of bone” reveal character economically. I also liked the use of sensory detail: diesel, rain, sodium lamps, the hum of a custody beacon tuned to Elena’s ear. The logistics of the convoy and stealthy escort van movements read like someone who understands operational tradecraft, which elevates the suspense. If I had one critique it’s that the excerpt ends just as things are gearing up; I’m invested in the ragged team and want equal attention paid to their dynamics and flaws. Overall, a solid cyberpunk action premise executed with care.

I loved this. Elena is the kind of protagonist I root for—world-weary, brilliant, haunted by a mistake that still sparks when she touches circuitry. The opening waterfront scene (those sodium lamps and the river as a black mirror) put me right into the world: tactile, grimy, and believable. The detail of the custody beacon humming at a frequency tuned to Elena's ear and the CoreX unit fitting into a man's cupped hands felt intimate and terrifying at once. The mix of engineering detail and action—her hands on the defensive rig, scanning cranes for snipers—made the heist tense without losing sight of the emotional stakes. I also appreciated how the story threaded guilt and responsibility into the thriller mechanics; her past accident gives genuine weight to the ticking cascade threat. Can't wait to see the ragged team come together and how she engineers a solution under fire. This one kept me turning pages late into the night.