Unfair

I’ll admit, I side-eyed the ‘virtual voice’ narrator at first. No inflection? No dramatic pauses? But by Chapter 3, I was sold—because *Unfair* isn’t trying to be a grand epic. It’s a snarky, fast-burn thriller about a woman who’s *done* with other people’s nonsense, and the narration’s emotional flatline makes her rare explosions of fury hit harder. Think of it like listening to a particularly sarcastic GPS guide you through a warzone. That said, if you’re here for lush worldbuilding or deep lore, you’ll leave disappointed. Ellis prioritizes *momentum* over exposition, and the universe feels intentionally sparse, like a backdrop for Lyla’s one-woman crusade against idiocy. The story’s strength—and its occasional weakness—is Lyla herself. She’s a fantastic antihero: brilliant, reckless, and so *tired* of playing by rules that don’t apply to her. Her rage is cathartic, but there are moments where her stubbornness tips into repetitive territory (yes, we get it, the system is corrupt). The supporting cast of misfits could use more depth—they’re fun, but often feel like chess pieces in Lyla’s game. Still, the set pieces *sing*. A mid-book ambush in an asteroid field had me rewinding to savor the tactical chaos, and the final act’s twist on ‘winning’ is delightfully subversive. Just don’t expect the audio production to dazzle—this is a no-frills, dialogue-driven ride where the writing (and your own imagination) does the heavy lifting.