The Black Tides of Heaven
A rebellion threatens the power of the Protectorate. Akeha, one of the twin children of the Protector, leaves the Tensorate behind and falls in with the rebels. But every step Akeha takes towards the Machinists is a step away from Mokoya. Can Akeha find peace without shattering the bond they share with their twin?
The Red Threads of Fortune
Sanao Mokoya has abandoned the life that once bound her. Broken by the loss of her young daughter, she now hunts deadly, sky-obscuring naga in the harsh outer reaches of the kingdom, far from everything she used to love.
On the trail of a massive naga that threatens the rebellious mining city of Bataanar, Mokoya meets the mysterious and alluring Rider. But all is not as it seems: The beast they both hunt harbors a secret that could ignite war throughout the Protectorate.
The Descent of Monsters
An investigation into atrocities committed at a classified research facility threatens to expose secrets that the Protectorate will do anything to keep hidden.
The Black Tides of Heaven by Neon Yang is a novella full of promise, brimming with fascinating ideas and a unique setting that captivated me from the start, though ultimately, it didn’t fully deliver on all fronts.
What stood out most to me was the worldbuilding. Yang crafts a richly imagined, Asian-inspired fantasy world that weaves together magic, religion, political intrigue, and touches of technology in a way that feels fresh and unique. The Tensorate universe is one where the mystical and mechanical coexist, and the way it unfolds in the story is often beautiful, if sometimes fleeting.
One of the most compelling elements is the treatment of gender. In this world, children are raised with gender neutrality, and individuals choose their gender when they are ready. A choice that may include undergoing medical transition, or not. This concept is handled with nuance and care, and it offers a vision of gender identity that feels both radical and deeply humane. I especially appreciated how the narrative normalizes the use of they/them pronouns and presents gender as something deeply personal rather than societally imposed.
However, the novella format was a limitation for me. While I understand brevity can be a strength, in this case, it felt more like a constraint. The worldbuilding, though compelling, comes to the reader in fragments. Glimpses and moments that suggest a much larger tapestry we never quite get to see. I often found myself wishing for more space to explore the political dynamics, the mechanics of the magic, and the broader cultural landscape. It felt like being given a piece of an intricate puzzle without the rest of the picture.
Character development also suffered somewhat from the novella’s brevity and structure. The relationship between the twin protagonists, Akeha and Mokoya, is the emotional core of the story and is handled with depth early on. But as the story progresses and large time jumps occur, their relationship begins to feel disjointed. Secondary characters come and go with little time for deeper engagement, making some of the emotional beats feel less impactful than they could have been.
Despite these shortcomings, The Black Tides of Heaven remains a worthwhile and intriguing read. It’s a quick journey into a vibrant, thought-provoking world, and Yang’s vision is bold and distinctive. While I ended the book feeling somewhat unsatisfied, not because of what was there, but because of how much more I wanted, that’s also a testament to how compelling this world and its ideas truly are.
The Red Threads of Fortune, the second novella in the Tensorate series, builds meaningfully on the foundation laid in The Black Tides of Heaven, and I found myself enjoying it even more. Perhaps it was the familiarity with the world and the returning characters, but this installment felt more grounded, more cohesive, and more emotionally resonant from the outset.
One of the strengths of this novella is its tighter focus and more linear structure. Unlike its predecessor, which spanned decades and leaned heavily on time jumps, The Red Threads of Fortune unfolds over a shorter period, allowing for deeper emotional continuity and character development. The story follows Mokoya in the aftermath of immense personal loss, and much of the novella grapples with grief, healing, and the weight of memory. These themes are handled with subtlety and compassion, giving the narrative a quiet, aching power beneath the monster-hunting adventure.
Speaking of monsters, this book brings us thrilling encounters with fascinating beasts, particularly the naga. But more than just spectacle, the monsters here are deeply tied to Mokoya’s inner turmoil, making the battles feel metaphorically rich as well as narratively engaging.
Once again, Yang’s worldbuilding is a standout feature. The Tensorate universe continues to impress with its blend of magic, spirituality, and technology. In this entry, we learn more about the Machinists, a radical faction with their own vision for society, and their ideology adds compelling layers to the world’s political landscape. I was especially delighted to see more of the raptors, used both as mounts and for the hunt. They’re a visually striking and conceptually cool element that adds texture and a sense of wonder to the setting.
Yang’s commitment to inclusive storytelling remains one of the series’ greatest strengths. Gender identity is treated with the same thoughtful nuance as in the first book. The societal norm of raising children with gender neutrality is expanded upon here through the character of Rider, an adult who continues to use they/them pronouns without having chosen a gender, and this choice is accepted without question. It’s refreshing and affirming to see a world where personal identity is respected as fluid, evolving, and self-determined.
That said, I still found myself wishing for more: more pages, more depth, more space to breathe. While this novella felt more cohesive and emotionally satisfying than the first, the brevity still leaves certain ideas and relationships underdeveloped. Characters like Rider and the Machinists are intriguing, but they only get a fraction of the exploration they deserve. As with The Black Tides of Heaven, I couldn’t help but imagine how powerful this story might be as a full-length novel.
Despite its short length, this is a rich and engaging entry in the Tensorate series. It deepens the emotional and political stakes of the world, while delivering action, introspection, and continued innovation in worldbuilding and representation. I breezed through it, but it lingered in my mind afterward, a sure sign that Yang’s vision is as compelling as ever.
The Descent of Monsters is, so far, my favorite installment in the Tensorate series.
Shifting away from the monster-hunting, this entry takes the form of a murder mystery wrapped in layers of institutional secrecy and personal obsession, and it works beautifully.
From the outset, The Descent of Monsters sets itself apart with its narrative structure. Told through a dossier of official reports, private correspondence, interrogation transcripts, and journal entries, the story unfolds with a fragmented intensity that feels both inventive and perfectly suited to the world Yang has built. This epistolary style lends the novella a raw immediacy, immersing the reader in the mystery through shifting voices and perspectives. It also cleverly underscores the themes of truth, censorship, and the selective nature of memory and documentation, especially powerful in a world where control of knowledge is political currency.
For once, the length of the novella didn’t feel like a limitation. The format and pacing are so well-matched that the story felt exactly as long as it needed to be. Taut, atmospheric, and emotionally sharp. I was hooked from the very first page, and the mystery kept me fully engaged throughout. While I won’t spoil any details, I will say the ending struck the right balance of resolution and ambiguity. It delivered emotional impact without tidy closure, which felt entirely appropriate for a story about hidden atrocities and the lingering echoes of trauma.
What makes this entry particularly compelling is how it peels back the layers of previous novellas. We gain deeper insight into the events that occurred off-page in earlier books, and those revelations add both context and emotional weight to the larger narrative.
The novella also introduces new voices and perspectives while continuing to explore familiar themes of identity, autonomy, and resistance. Though it moves away from the gender identity focus of the earlier entries, it remains consistent in its inclusive ethos. The Tensorate world continues to feel rich, lived-in, and unapologetically queer, and this commitment to inclusive storytelling remains one of the series’ greatest strengths.
It is bold in both form and content, a sharp turn in style that deepens the mythos of the universe while standing strong on its own. It’s a powerful exploration of corruption, accountability, and what it means to bear witness. With this novella, Yang not only expands the scope of their world but also shows how versatile and experimental speculative fiction can be.
