6 Armed Mortal Kombat Novels & Stories

Three men jumped out in a coordinated blur. Blade broad-shouldered, his arms bulging with the corded muscle of someone who lifted more in prison than in any gym wore a storm of prison tattoos snaking from his wrists up to his neck. In his fist, a collapsible baton gleamed under the flicker of the lights. Makarov cold-eyed, every inch ex-military moved with clipped precision, his stun gun already sparking, the blue crackle loud in the emptiness. Pike wiry, jittery, his nerves visible in every twitch had a worn canvas satchel slung over one shoulder, the outline of restraints shifting inside.

I replied, embracing him tightly. As we got used to the place, I looked at Cetrion and Kronika “Kronika and Cetrion you two used to antagonists of Mortal Kombat 11 but after Mortal Kombat you arrived at my sanctuary, why the change of heart?” I asked the two. Kronika exchanged a glance with Cetrion before responding, "The world has changed, Arnold.”

knew that it was useless to talk, so their expressions became serious. As they shouted, they put on their armor, which was gleaming. They were of three different colors, cyan, blue, and purple, with good shape, which were as dignified as emperor's armor. The eldest one held a cyan long spear, the younger one held a blue axe, while the youngest one held purple twin hammers. The glaring Qi spread out of their bodies like a burning flame. As Martial King realm experts, their Qi circulated in their bodies like blood at a very fast speed, which could condense armor and weapons comparable to the divine armor and weapons.

Although Ten Thousand Armies was a modern mercenary organization, there was extreme martial arts style in its internal structure. It was said that this was because Porter’s mentor, whom he was greatly indebted to, was also a person who was adept in martial arts in the underground world. That was the reason why Porter also had a strong martial arts complex within him. The Four War Kings in Ten Thousand Armies also came about following the example of the four guardians in a martial arts novel. The Four War Kings also gave themselves fancy names with a strong martial arts flavor, namely the Green-Eyed Wolf King, the White-Clothed Tiger King, the Black-Faced Panther King, and the Golden-Furred L

"And if I can't understand?" Silvan simply raised his hands. Clack! Clack! All 36 men in the black robes took out unique firearms and disengaged the safety, aiming in Harvey's direction. "These weapons are specialized firearms Country A created against martial arts elites. Their bullets are created from toxins that could deal with True Warriors that Grand City has perfected. The ones with weapons are trained elites who with god-like accuracy and an iron will. If all 36 of them pull the trigger at the same time, even a living legend who has reached the level of uniting Man and Nature has to take a step back," Silvan explained calmly.

"Yes, but we can talk about that later. It's the least important thing right now." Liv shut her mouth with a snap and stared at him for several long beats before speaking again. "Okay, then." Her eyes raised to the ceiling looking like she was weighing what she wanted to say next. "So, you're immortal?" "Not exactly. We can be killed but it is difficult. We heal quickly. As you could see, Asta was perfectly fine when she was in here earlier. Our bodies can heal most wounds if we can shift." Brodi sat up straight. "We are exceptional warriors. In today's world, the only thing that could kill us would be a bullet to the brain. That would not allow us to have the capacity to shift, so we would

"Get out. Now. We have evidence she is planning violence. Real violence. She has purchased weapons, made threats, wired money to people with criminal records." "That is not true," Elena said, clearly hearing Morrison through the phone. "I have not—" The door burst open. Armed men rushed in. Not FBI. Not police. Mercenaries. And leading them was someone I never expected. Camilla LaRue. She smiled at both of us, holding a gun. "Hello, ladies. Did you really think you were the only ones planning revenge?"

I sat there for a moment, staring at my reflection in the dark monitor. I stood up and grabbed my jacket. If I was going to take down Tulcero with the reinforcements, I needed better equipment than a standard Glock and raw strength. The Armory was forty minutes outside Ridgeway Oaks. It catered to a very specific clientele—supernaturals who needed weapons that could kill other supernaturals. I parked the Harley in the alley and knocked three times on the reinforced steel door. A panel slid open, revealing a pair of suspicious eyes. “Password,” a gravelly voice demanded.

Aarif looked down to see that his right bracer was missing, the one that protected him from other karamats. “Dang it!” Aarif cursed just as Sikandar blasted his head with an energy beam, instantly vaporizing his head. Aarif’s body stayed upright due to the support from the sword, while a head started forming at his stump. It threw off the power collector bracer and the sword for some reason. “Seriously?” Sikandar cursed before unleashing a bigger and more powerful energy beam upon Aarif, vaporizing his entire body. There was no sign of him other than the power collector bracer and sword that fell to the ground and the karamat-proof bracer in his hand.

Armano stood there. He was in full riot gear—black tactical vest, heavy boots, helmet with the visor pushed back. A rifle was slung over his shoulder, and a sidearm was holstered at his thigh. He looked like he had stepped out of a dystopian future. He was covered in soot, and a small cut above his eyebrow was welling with blood. He stepped forward, grabbing my arm and hauling me up. His grip was iron, bruising. "Are you insane?" he hissed, his face inches from mine. His eyes were wild, frantic—not with fear, but with a terrifying, focused rage. "Do you have a death wish?"