Novel & Cerita Ash X Gladion

In the field, FPSG stood for First Person Shooting Game, which became bastardized, unofficial code across all branches of the military over the past hundred years for if you find a weapon, it’s yours to wreak havoc with. “We need to get those magic restraints off, first.” Knight eyed his team before he let his attention settle on Xander, who seemed way too tense. “They didn’t give you one.” “I told Lilia he was Strike Force, not an Awakaned. He’s not in our uniform. Guess she believed me for some reason,” Tanner explained before shrugging. “Guess I lied.” Xander and Kira were both Awakaned that's for sure, although he's still skeptical on what Kira's gifts is, he's sure that she has some pow

My eyes were not playing tricks on me, that's Eren right there,murdering someone with a smile on his face. That someone was Felix.

Her pocket sagged with the vial’s weight, that damn glass nagging her, and Ezra’s laugh still rang in her head—his smug ass waving the key like a prize. “Grab something!” Roman shouted, voice torn over the rush, his other hand scrabbling at the wall’s edge, now just a crumbled lip of concrete. The water was winning, surging up her ribs, tugging at her soaked jacket. She gagged on it, tasting mud and salt, her arm screaming where the knife had cut—blood swirling red in the dark churn.

I stood under the spray until my muscles loosened and my head cleared a little. I dried off and pulled on a black robe. Downstairs I grabbed the Macallan from the bar and poured three fingers into a glass. I sat on the couch with the bottle beside me and stared at the skyline. My phone buzzed. Jake. I answered. “Yeah.” “Apex called. They’re confirming the post-game interview for tomorrow night. The journalist is Madison Pierce. There’s an attached file in your email.” I opened the attachment fast. Madison’s headshot stared back with her duck lips and her heavy makeup. It was the same girl I threw out last time.

I watched the life drain from his eyes, and with a final, satisfying crack, I snapped his neck. "Shadow Guard!" I roared into the forest. "Tear them apart!" The inhibitor had weakened us, but it hadn't erased our strength entirely. Rage and vengeance burned like a wildfire, fueling our return to the fight. My warriors surged forward like beasts unleashed. Gunshots rang out, but no one cared. We were wolves. We were predators. And tonight, the forest would run red with their blood. I snatched a silver dagger from the ground and lunged at the nearest mercenary.

“Lira.” “It’s shallow.” “Let me decide that.” “You’re bleeding through your sleeve.” “Then we’ll both be annoyed while someone cleans us up.” The tenderness of it nearly breaks me more than the mirrors did. A shard lies near my boot, cracked but reflective. In it, I see us. Not crowned. Not kneeling. Not bound in some false image of power. Kael stands beside me, blood on his sleeve, ash on his jaw, his hand gentle on my shoulder. I stand with my hair tangled, my skin marked, and my palm over the life inside me.

The wolf surges through him like a storm breaking open. His claws extend fully. His eyes glow molten gold. Mine. The word ripples through the air with such intensity I almost feel it physically. The hunter holding my wrist notices it too. His grin fades. “Uh—” Rowan reaches us in two strides. The force of his attack is brutal. He slams into the hunter hard enough to send both of them crashing across the warehouse floor, Rowan ripping the man away from me with a violent twist that ends with the hunter pinned against the ground beneath his claws.

The central court chambers of Moonrise buzzed with an anxious energy as the Ash Pack’s delegation arrived. Flags bearing the Ash sigil—black wolf on a field of smoldering grey—hung limp against the stone pillars, barely stirring despite the wind creeping through the high slotted windows. Courtiers, healers, warriors, and apprentices lined the perimeter, their eyes sharp, their voices low. They all knew that today wasn’t just a day for diplomacy, but a day of reckoning. The air crackled with the weight of old rivalries and the potential for new alliances—or fresh wounds.

With a smile across his face he called forth a weapon he had not used in a long time, reminding the world of its presence once more. “Come! Ashen Axe of War and Grime and that which was born of Volcanic Mud.” “I, Pathfinder, summon thee. Come…” “Rigor!” *ROAR*

"Glad to know the Gods are with us." Am-Heh looked up sharply, giving a low growl. Beneath Ash, the floor began to bubble like molten metal, his clothing melting and fusing to his skin. Scrambling up Ash clawed at the smouldering fabric, a howl of pain cutting through the air as a loathsome odour left him.