Bladewolf Metal Gear Novels & Stories

She drew a physical blade—a heavy, carbon-steel machete—and charged. The fight was visceral, brutal, and slow. There was no "Sovereign Protocol" to predict the enemy’s movements. It was blade against bayonet, steam against steel. The Grey Guard engaged the Null-soldiers in the narrow corridors, the sound of clashing metal and hissing steam filling the bunker. Jade moved like a shadow, her movements fueled by a mother’s desperation. She bypassed the main fray, sliding through a ventilation duct that smelled of grease and ozone.

Claws extended, he raked the underbelly of a second attacker, spilling hot entrails onto the dirt. I gripped my blade tighter, forcing myself forward. The power surged again, but I directed it toward the enemy, slashing at a human rebel who swung a club at my head. The blade connected with unnatural speed, severing his arm at the elbow. He screamed, dropping, and I pressed on, the bond feeding me glimpses of Isaak's and Rhaedon's positions, their strikes syncing with mine despite the chaos. But the fear spread like wildfire. An allied wolf, a sleek silver female, snarled at me as I passed, her eyes wide with something close to terror. She turned away, joining the retreat as more rocks fell,

The most courageous of the three bodyguards nervously cried. Conner, raised his right hand, making them keep their mouth shut. He eyed the door for the last time before leaving the scene. The left-behind guards felt the last pity for their friend and followed their boss. Meanwhile, inside the base. A young boy just at the age of seventeen was busy playing with some tools. But if one should look closely at the little boy, one would see something was wrong with him. As he was displaying signs of a lunatic psycho. In the dim and unusually icy-cold room, another adult male was there but he was been tied to a chair. He was trying to free himself from the chains but it was almost non-viable.

Something dark flashed in her grip. A blade. But not like Kael's. Not like any I'd seen. Black. Too black. It seemed to swallow the light around it. Thin lines of jagged symbols crawled along its surface, pulsing faintly like something alive. My wolf recoiled. Danger. Real danger. "Silver can't kill me," Mira said softly, lifting the blade. "But this – this was forged in my father's blood." Cold slid down my spine. She attacked again. Faster. Sharper. The blade cut through the air with a sound that made my teeth ache.

It didn't run like a person; it moved like a spider, its limbs blurring as it closed the distance. "Leave us alone!" I turned and fired the laser scalpel. The thin red beam hit the Guard’s chest, but the silver armor just absorbed the heat. It didn't even slow down. It was ten feet away. Five feet. Suddenly, a black motorcycle roared out of the shadows. It slammed into the side of the Guard, knocking the silver monster into a brick wall. The rider jumped off the bike before it hit, rolling across the pavement. The rider pulled off their helmet. It was General Miller. He looked older, his face covered in fresh scars, but his eyes were sharp.

Blade was nearly two meters tall. His body was particularly robust and he had bulging muscles. The short-sleeved T-shirt that he wore accentuated his chest muscles, and they were big enough to rival an average woman's bosom. His bronze-colored arm muscles instilled fear in people, while his thick eyebrows and sharp eyes were brimming with might. When he arrived, he rubbed his bald head and asked Trevor in a hoarse voice, "Tell me, who do you want me to kill?"

Ryan barked, drawing his sidearm. Shadows detached themselves from the tunnel walls. Three silver masks. Red Guard stalkers. The high-frequency hum of their energy blades sliced through the air. "Stay behind me, Leo!" I commanded, drawing my silver dagger. I lunged. I moved like a predator protecting its cub. I parried the first strike, the silver-alloy blade throwing sparks. I drove my dagger into the seam of the first stalker’s mask. Ga-chi. The sound of bone grinding against metal bit home.

The silver blade of the "System Dagger" did not draw blood when it struck Kaelen; it drew "Static." The moment the tip of the weapon made contact with the boy’s chest, the courtyard of the Blackwood Keep exploded in a flurry of grey, redacted pixels. Kaelen let out a shriek that sounded like a thousand glass bells shattering, but his body didn't fall. It "Lacked."

The dim red lights in the tunnel reflected off his four black glossy slanted eyes. It was the tunnel’s dim red ceiling lights that helped Olivia see the monster’s pitch-black eyes. Those eyes were peeking through the leveler’s gated door, focusing on Olivia and Lukas. Olivia had a Beretta M-12 submachine gun strapped to her back, but her paralyzation wouldn’t let her reach for the gun. She could sense the creature’s wrath, and she knew that shooting at him would only make him angrier.

Cat followed to the landing, her vision still flickering between the physical world and the golden grid of the ley lines. Five men in tactical gear burst through the ruins of the window. They weren't normal soldiers. Their armor was etched with protective runes, and they carried silver-edged blades that hummed with a sickly green light. Elias met the first one mid-air. It was a display of beautiful, horrific violence. He didn't just punch; he dismantled. He caught a silver blade with his bare hand—the metal hissing against his skin—and snapped it like a dry twig before driving the jagged shard into the soldier’s throat.