Arf Trooper Clone Wars 소설 & 이야기

She said before walking away from me and walking off towards Antony who was standing with a small group of warriors that I am assuming were accompanying us to the Fae world. We had all loaded up in the 5 Cadillac ESV 3.0 L Duramax Turbo. The blacked-out vehicles were all equipped with blacked-out windows to prevent anyone from looking in. Each vehicle held 7 of us. In the lead, we had 7 of our most trusted warriors. The second vehicle was Sam, Thaddeus, and their 5 warriors as they wanted to go on behalf of Gabi. In my vehicle that was sandwiched in the middle was one of the rogue warriors driving, Antony in the front seat with him. Then Athea and I were in the captain's seats with 3 more wa

It was like my body was being separated and pulled. I couldn't think straight;t I was in agony. I did not know what happened to me, but I became a walking robot. I only follow instructions. Anything I was asked was what I did. I noticed one day that he was wearing a mask, the face of my science teacher, like his natural face was hidden. But I never cared. My only work was to take instructions and be used as a test object until, one day, he told me to go on a mission with his son. I noticed that his son was one of his experiments too while the woman carrying him was dead already, we both went in that mission and got separated that was how I ended up in the forest in the middle of nowhere I st

I asked, looking around. A lot of them lowered their heads while some looked away. "I see some new faces and that's great but we follow a strict workout plan but we will revise it however, the warm ups are non negotiable. So get to it." I yelled with a little force in my voice to really get them moving. I looked to see two large vampires walking my way. "You must be Brandon." One said, holding out his hand. "I am, who are you gentlemen?" I asked, shaking his hand. "I'm Braxton, that is Troy. Guards to Ambrosia." Braxton replied and I nodded my head. "Nice to meet both of you. I assume you guys are in charge of the training?" I asked. "We are, although we got one this morning with your mate.

"Trust the scar. Trust the girl who stayed in the tank beside you while the droids tore the skin off your back. Trust the mud, Dante." He flinched at the name. The word Dante seemed to strike him like a physical blow, a password that bypassed the security protocols of his reset brain. He looked at his scarred forearm, then at my hand—raw, bleeding silver, and trembling with the weight of forty-two dead clones. With a low, guttural curse, Thorne dropped his pulse-blade. He grabbed my hand.

Dax and I stepped out onto the catwalk beside him. Marching in perfect, horrifying synchronization up the grated ramps toward our crashed transport were a dozen Null-Troopers. Up close, they were even more intimidating. They were eight feet tall, entirely encased in thick, light-absorbing matte-grey armor. They didn't have optical visors; their heads were just solid, sloped iron plates housing localized radar arrays. They carried massive rotary-kinetic cannons slung low on their hips. "No phase-shifts," Dax reminded the pack, his voice low and dead serious. "No energy shields. Kinetic force only. You hit them in the joints, and you don't stop hitting them until they stop moving."

He rose with brutal force, clawing across the clone’s chest, each strike heavier, more desperate. The fight dragged on — claws tearing flesh, teeth ripping fur, both staggering, bloodied but unyielding. The cavern echoed with the sound of wolves locked in a duel for dominance. At last, Aeron saw the falter. The clone’s strikes grew sloppy, his stance wavering. Aeron seized the moment — slammed him against the stone, fangs sinking deep into his throat. The clone convulsed, then went limp. Aeron ripped away and let the body fall, panting, his muzzle dripping red. The imposter twitched once, then lay unconscious, defeated.

The right clone, still partially linked but receiving garbage data, swung its blade in a panic and accidentally decapitated the center clone. The unit fell apart. The perfect triangle shattered into three broken, confused men. Marcus recovered, charging forward with a roar. He grabbed the remaining standing clone by the neck and slammed him into the blast door, crushing the helmet. Silence returned to the antechamber, save for the sparking of the broken frog toy. Kzzzt... Namo... Kzzzt. Jack stood up, wiping black fluid from his hands. He was breathing hard, his ribs burning. "Remind me," Jack panted, kicking the frog toy, "to leave a five-star review for that thing."