A Night Without Armour Novels & Stories

Something that had been waiting for the system to break. A man stepped out of the shadow. He wore a suit of armor made of nothingness, and his eyes were voids. "You did a great job," the man said. "Now, stand aside. It is my turn to play."

So I was sure that Killian would break that barrier as soon as the shadow eaters whirling above the magic circle came in their full glory. And I was right. The shadow eaters with skull-like faces and green, flame-like bodies started slamming their bodies against the barrier. Their screeches cut through the silence on the grounds. Amor was ready in the special armour I had created with Aria. The armour was made up of alloy of metals that repelled all kinds of magic, be it dark or not. It had a golden lustre. I was sitting in the mansion's bedroom. “Zeve… I am leaving,” Amor said.

he retarded in an attempt to retaliate the humiliation he was facing at her hand. He turned his back to her, and went inside thinking he would talk to her only when she would apologize to him for her rudeness. He would have pledged to never talk to her had he known she accepted his invitation only because she knew Ahmed will be here. *** She stepped out in the dark alley, the night air was heavy and thick with suffocation. The sky was nothing but a pitch dark hollow ready to engulf any and every thing. The sound of steps hurled behind her, out of curiosity she turned around and saw a figure looming in the dark.

The black lingerie that was originally in the closet, I took after cleaning the body in the bathroom. The smell of soap residue so thick, a mixture of sandalwood and rose flowers so attached. Both my eyes looked at the lingerie in front of me; then I decided to wear it exactly at 21:00. I don't intend to leave the room after this anyway because the day has been full of activities, and tonight, I intend to go to bed early. Yes, all the lingerie fit me well. But the black color looks better and makes my skin look even fairer. I quickly put on the thigh-length outfit.

Into the Lion’s Den The night was cloaked in shadows, the moon hiding behind a veil of clouds as if it knew what was about to unfold. Elena stood in front of the mirror in her dimly lit room, pulling on the last piece of her gear. Her dark clothing clung to her body like a second skin, designed for both mobility and stealth. She couldn’t afford to stand out tonight. This wasn’t just another fight—this was a war.

“That’s all youthink about when you see me—getting into my pants like a god-damned pervert.” “You really have no shame, do you?” I hissed, but his deep chuckle resonated through the phone, sending chills down my spine. “You know, bad girls deserve to be punished, Blue,” he said, his tone dripping with dark promises. In that moment, I felt the thrill of danger and vulnerability intertwine, the night unraveling around me like a wild tapestry, and I couldn’t help but wonder how far I’d let it go. "Maybe I want to be punished."

[LYCAN KINGDOM B - OUTSKIRTS - NIGHT TIME] The vast expanse of the Lycan Kingdom stretched out before Zilver and his army, a seemingly endless forest cloaked in the vibrant hues of autumn. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and the distant promise of adventure. Zilver, the formidable lycan king of kingdom A with eyes as sharp as his silver armour, rode at the head of his troops, their horses pounding the earth with each thunderous step. The army moved with a synchronised precision that spoke of years of training and discipline.

The newcomers were distinctly different from each other. One of them was concealed fully in a golden armour that shone as brightly as the sun. The armour was as thick as several walls of steel, standing at several meters in height! The armoured man was Frederick, and in his hands was a huge sword that towered above every living person here!

Zara’s P.O.V The fortress woke before the sun. Steel clashed in the training yard as warriors honed their blades, the rhythm of combat echoing against ancient stone. The scent of sweat and iron hung in the air, sharp and unrelenting. I stood at the center of it all. Barefoot. Unarmed. Unyielding. My cloak lay discarded on the sidelines, replaced by a fitted training tunic. Bruises blossomed along my arms, silent proof of the trials I had already endured. And the ones yet to come.

POV: Neoma The armor didn't feel like protection. It felt like a burial shroud. It was a tactical bodysuit of woven Barzil-mesh. Black as a moonless night. Heavy enough to make my knees ache with every step. It hugged every curve—stiff, unyielding, suffocating. It smelled of ozone and the stale, sharp sweat of whoever had worn it last. Whoever she was, she probably died in it. I stood on the metal grating of the armory floor. My arms held out as a silent Null attendant tightened the straps across my chest.