The rising world
Step into the heart-pounding geopolitical thrillers
by Anne Mortensen
In the near-future your thoughts are editable, your reputation is currency, and the algorithm never blinks
Author Anne Mortensen pulls you into a world already half-built around us: neural implants that whisper suggestions, reputation markets that can bankrupt a life in seconds, and AI curators who decide which truths the planet is allowed to know.
Every standalone novel in the Rising World series asks the questions that keeps everyone wondering about the future:
What if an AI predicts your every move… and starts blocking your next move?
When your own thoughts can be transferred in real time, who decides if it was in fact really you?
Is a perfect reputation score worth trading your soul for?
Can a handful of rebels actually burn down a system that already owns tomorrow?
Each book, The Truth Effect (Book 1), The Arcadian Match (Book 2), and The Red Line (Book 3 coming in Feb 2026), throws a brand-new protagonist and crew into the fire: a rogue coder in London, a secret service tech librarian in Sweden, a quantum PR reputation trader in Stockholm, a black-market drone dealer in Libya, a regime rebel in Chad, or just a wise mentor desperately clinging to the last scraps of unedited humanity in London.
A few battle-scarred faces from earlier instalments drop in when it hurts the most: slipping in encrypted warnings, cracking open a back door, or buying the new crew thirty seconds of oxygen before the algorithm locks on again. Then they vanish, because in the Rising World, every hero earns their stripes.
Rising World isn’t just reading the future. It’s the warning label.
Keep reading, and you might just join the rebellion.
Read an Excerpt from
The Arcadian Match
Christian's head was still spinning from the explosion that had just rocked the city. He could hear the screams of people and the sound of glass shattering in the distance. Kelly had managed to pull him to safety behind a nearby building, but he could still see the chaos unfolding in front of him.
He rubbed his forehead and muttered. “Damn Viktor and this bloody game. So what, murder is okay as long as he doesn’t kill me?”
Kelly looked at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
Christian shook his head, gesturing at the smoke-filled air and the people running in all directions. “This,” he said. “This is his idea of a game. Pulling out the big guns, showing off. And now look, we're caught in the middle of it.”
Kelly's eyes narrowed. “You think he's behind this?”
Christian nodded, his gaze fixed on the chaos. “Who else? I've already been set up for the homicide of my best friend, and the burning down of the Landström Estate.” He waved his hand. “And now this. He's setting me up to take the fall for this bombing.”
Kelly's expression softened. “I'm sorry, Christian. This is all so messed up.”
Christian nodded grimly. “Exactly. And now, because of it, I'm going to be the scapegoat for this attack.”
They stood in silence for a moment, watching as emergency services rushed to the scene. Christian knew they had to act fast if they were going to clear his name and stop Viktor's schemes once and for all.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing Kelly's hand. “We need to get to the Opera building.”
Kelly nodded, and they began to make their way through the chaos, dodging debris and avoiding the panicked crowd. Christian's mind raced as he tried to come up with a plan, but he still felt hesitant to reveal much more to Kelly. He didn't want to put her in danger, and he didn't know if he could trust her completely yet.
As they neared the Opera, Christian breathed a sigh of relief. They needed to find a way to take down Viktor and clear his name before it was too late.
Read an Excerpt from
The Truth Effect
She turned from the screen and pieced together his story from the data. Smart, young man. Opportunities cut short when his father died in 2024, making him fatherless at the age of fourteen. The PM had to be helping the family out, she thought. But by the look of these income numbers, not by much. Good. She liked the needy. They were easy bait. “Close Oliver Green’s file."
The second attachment was the Kelly Blackwell file.
Already having memorized all journalists’ files, Lydia shut the portal and ambled to her walk-in closet. She perused the array of suits. Kelly Blackwell, having witnessed Mallow’s arrest, complicated matters, but that cold look in Kelly’s eye when she talked about Mallow deserving the arrest, together with her neutral bio-reading, eased her. Then again, Blackwell had visited Heather Mallow at the Daily Times. Her best guess was that they discussed Christopher Mallow. Her lips wriggled. All the digital surveillance in the world, and she couldn’t use it in this case. This wasn’t the first time she had needed to keep a mission off the books. Lydia needed to see more of Holdsworth’s handwritten reports before making a final decision about how to manage Kelly.
She reached for the red suit and paused, remembering the PM’s order. “Discretion.” She huffed. Discretion. “Blue blends in better.”
She grabbed the blue suit, propped it in front of her, and stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. Now, the cash problem. There had been cash incentives for parliamentarians, cash for the opposition to ignore proposals, even cash to convince the Prime Minister that the Truth Laws were a benefit to everyone.
Her belly tightened. Sometimes loads of cash hadn’t been impressive, not to the wealthy ones like the key cabinet minister, the chief whip. He didn’t want or need cash. He wanted something different: his weight on top of her, his undulating double chin rubbing against her face as she lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She brushed away the memory and reminded herself just how small the price had been for safeguarding the nation.
Stoic, she reminded herself, as she recalled the most important choices she had made to get to this point were off the books. The Truth Laws were a reality, and she was in charge of the Elite Squad. She flexed her shoulders, tightened her tummy, and gave a small smile of satisfaction at the reflection in the mirror.
