Naresh Karthigeyan once stared at a cup of milk for six straight hours and called it research. He believes time is a suggestion, plot is a dare, and reality is best served with a twist of confusion and an unnecessary Raspberry Pi. When not writing stories that accidentally bend the space-time continuum, he is often found giving disturbingly detailed explanations of things no one asked about—like the emotional life of vending machines or the moral implications of left socks.

Some say Naresh lives in a quantum shed that exists in all timelines at once. Others say he just forgot to clean his room. Both are true.

This is his debut novel. Unfortunately, it probably won’t be his last.

Rohan M did not approve most of this book. And yet, somehow, here it is. A co-plotter with the energy of a Shakespearean ghost trapped in a modern power grid, Rohan...