THE HOLLOW CIRCUIT Book One by Awen Null
For readers who walk the fault-line between genres, this is not a seamless story. It glitches. It contradicts. It loops. Every fracture is deliberate. Every repetition is a breadcrumb.
In a fractured city where fungus carries memory and power, the poet Veylon is caught between survival and recursion. Above ground, the Oligarchy of Light edits history into sterile perfection. Beneath it, the Hollow Circuit breathes: a labyrinth of bioluminescent tunnels, spore-lit archives, and rebels who carve poems into living walls.
Veylon once wrote strategies for war. Now he writes only fragments, haunted by failures and pursued by echoes of himself across collapsing timelines. The Poet. The Glove. The Glitch. The Traveller. Each is a possible self, each demanding to be remembered. When these fractured versions converge, reality itself threatens to unravel.
At his side stands Seya, fierce as flame in a world of rot and recursion. Through her, Veylon glimpses the possibility of wholeness—yet the Circuit is not merciful. It devours, it rewrites, it repeats. To survive, he must choose between erasure and becoming.
The Hollow Circuit is more than a novel. It is the first node in a wider transmission:
- Book One of a cycle exploring identity, memory, and control.
- Part of a transmedia ecosystem that includes zines, visual novels, and soundscapes.
- Written in lyrical, fractured prose that blurs science fiction, philosophy, and the New Weird.
For readers who walk the fault-line between genres, this is not a seamless story. It glitches. It contradicts. It loops. Every fracture is deliberate. Every repetition is a breadcrumb.
Enter the Circuit. The story has already begun.
The Hollow Circuit: Book One is perfect for readers of Jeff VanderMeer, China Miéville, Philip K. Dick, and Ursula K. Le Guin. Fans of biopunk, cyberpunk, and philosophical science fiction will find themselves at home—and unsettled—in its recursive depths.
This is a work of adult speculative fiction. It contains complex themes, experimental structure, and moments of body horror, intimacy, and existential recursion. Recommended for mature readers (16+).
