Bladewolf Metal Gear 소설 & 이야기

The boy’s eyes were blown wide, his throat bared in a pathetic, shaking submission. I drove my black glass blade into the first enforcer’s kidney. He let out a wet wheeze, his scent turning to sharp, metallic salt. The second one turned, swinging a silver-tipped mace. The air whistled as the weapon missed my ear by an inch. I stepped inside his guard, the obsidian key in my pocket humming a low, violent frequency that made my teeth ache. I slammed my palm into his chest. The vibration didn't just knock him back; it sent a shockwave through his ribs that sounded like a bag of dry sticks snapping. He hit the stone hearth and didn't move.

The blue sub-ether of the Phase-Blade violently rejected the superheated smart-alloy. HISS. A massive plume of white steam erupted as the Origin-Code flash-froze a basketball-sized chunk of the liquid metal, turning it into brittle, blackened slag. The Sentinel recoiled, its form rippling in digital agony as it sloughed off the dead, frozen metal and reformed its torso. "Go!" Dax roared over the hiss of the steam, engaging the shifting nightmare in a blindingly fast melee of dodges and phased counter-strikes.

Blade watched under half closed eye lids as Rain and the woman she called Babe left the room. Then he turned his head slightly to see Greer watching him carefully. Greer had moved over to lean against the wall at the foot of his bed. “I know you can see me, asshole.” Greer growled. “You aren’t fooling anyone here.” Blade opened his eyes and stared at him. “I know you don’t believe me but I really don’t remember the man you were talking about before.” He hesitated then asked, “Did I really do all that shit?”

He immediately covers her blind spot anyway, their mate bond a flawless, deadly dance of fire and instinct. ​Mara and Torin cut down two rogues at our flank. Mara’s blade is a silver arc that severs a throat with a wet spray, while Torin’s axe cleaves a skull with brute force. Flank secured! Torin bellows through the link. Nearby, Reed and Keira trap another beast in a rune flare, the air crackling sharply with the ward’s magical backlash. ​I duck behind the black granite altar, my heart pounding against my ribs like a war drum.

Her voice cracked with panic. "Kill that bitch now!" The remaining six wolves rushed forward simultaneously. They leaped into the air. Shifting completely mid jump. I could barely focus. The world had become hazy. Then suddenly— A silver blur flew over my head. A massive shadow collided with the leading attacker. The impact shattered bones. The wolf screamed before being ripped apart. I blinked. My vision swam. And then realization struck. The dizziness. The weakness. The burning wounds. Silver. Their claws had been reinforced with silver blades.

​I rounded the corner into the dining room, my rifle leveled. ​Standing in the center of the room, surrounded by shards of glass that shimmered like diamonds in the red light, was a man. He was tall, thin, and dressed in a suit of matte-gray liquid armor that seemed to absorb the light around him. He wasn't holding a gun. He was holding a pair of curved, mono-molecular wire-blades that hummed with a low, lethal vibration. ​But it was his eyes that froze the blood in my veins. They were the same matte silver as Kai’s.

With a shared glance, Zilver and Eskaal charged forward, their silver blades cutting through the night air with a haunting sound. The clash of steel against fangs and claws echoed through the graveyard. Zilver and Eskaal moved with uncanny precision and strength, their silver swords glinting in the moonlight. The vampiric army was so confident, now reeled from the painful burns inflicted by the enchanted silver.

We thought we had killed them all. Rivers of blood soaked the ground and flowed between the trees in the forest south of Scarlet Moon. Torn and broken bodies littered our path as we retreated to the safety of the only pack Sebastian trusted with those most precious to him. We limped through the gates, bloody and battle weary after taking on at least five men a piece. Unbeknownst to us at the time, one man survived, Blue Blade, named for the unique and deadly weapon he wields. He is the one who sends rogues to the border, taunting me, letting me know he is still out there, waiting for me to blink so he can strike.