Breaker 3 Novels & Stories

That's when we made the three rules. Rule One: Always come when the other calls, no matter what. Rule Two: Always tell the truth and never keep secrets. Rule Three: Never fall in love with each other and never confess such. We were eight years old and we thought we were so smart making rules that would keep our friendship safe forever. But the thing is no rule can protect you from the inevitable so I ended up breaking two of them.

Angle. Pressure. Timing. Then— snap. Metal splits just enough. Enough is all I need. I pull free. The chair tilts, then crashes to the ground as I stand. My arm throbs. Blood runs down my wrist. Doesn’t matter. I’m moving already. The door. Locked. Expected. I don’t waste time testing it. I step back— measure distance— then drive my foot into the locking panel. Once. Twice. Third time— it breaks.

Six people who had just walked off the map, encountered the single greatest threat to the repair, and written the rule to defeat it in real-time. "Send a runner to the founding ground," I told Maret. "Tell Taya to inform the continent. The Ash-wood sector is secure." Maret nodded rapidly, the function returning to him with a vengeance. "And the methodology? The new type?" "Tell Isra to write it down," I said. "Type one hundred and thirteen. The Circuit Breaker." I looked at Zane. He found my hand. The silver band at my wrist was pulsing perfectly in time with his.

Serena’s pulse spiked. “They don’t want controlled collapse,” Adrian continued. “They want acceleration.” Ethan’s face went pale. Serena’s voice dropped. “And if I join the Circle?” Adrian’s answer came immediately. “You become their first target.” Silence filled the room like a vacuum. Serena tightened her grip on the phone. “Who are they?” Adrian’s voice was almost a whisper now. “We call them the Breakers.” The word landed like a distant thunderclap. Ethan looked at Serena.

Sitting on the bed, I clutched my phone and had 911 on speed dial. “You did this to yourself,” I said. “I was wrong, okay!” He got down on his knees, crying with his hands over his head. “I’m sorry! I’m begging you! Just drop the charges! Tell the school that the evidence was fake—” “It’s real.” I cut him off. He lifted his head, his gaze menacing. “I’ll make you pay!” Taylor pounced on me. I stepped out of the way and dialed the emergency number. “911? My address is Unit 702 at Surmount Complex. An intoxicated individual broke into my room and tried to attack me.”

It was a lie, I knew it was, but the way he said it, calm and certain, made my chest twist. Noah grabbed my wrist. “Don’t listen to him.” Victor’s voice darkened. “Give me the drive, Adrian, and I might let you live.” The sound of metal cracking filled the air as the door hinges began to bend. Noah met my eyes, breath ragged. “We run on three.” I nodded. He counted low under his breath. “One… two…” The door burst open before he reached three.

“More than that. I think he might try to act smart about it. I need to remind him that I'm serious about fucking him up if he tries to do anything stupid.” “Yeah, we can reach him tonight. I'll send his number to you as soon as we are done here. But now, I need you to chill the fuck out. You broke a man's nose today, you might break a leg tomorrow. You just keep breaking things.” I smirked. “It makes the job fun. Imagine threatening someone without having to leave a mark, that's boring. When you break a bone, they get the message and understand that you mean serious business.”

Alexander broke the kiss instantly, his stormy gray eyes narrowing into slits of pure fury as the screen displayed a new, flashing prompt. *Phase Three Failsafe Active: Target Location Sealed.* The war wasn't over. The game had just changed entirely.

“In fact, it would be all over before Krystal had a chance to do anything and Breaker wouldn’t leave any witnesses. Hell, Krystal is in just as much danger as you.” I sucked in my breath. “Are you saying he’d have killed us?” “It wouldn’t be the first time. They don’t call him ‘Breaker’ for nothing. It should be pronounced ‘Break Her’.” “Oh.” “Oh is right,” he replied, walking over to an old refrigerator humming in the corner of the room. He opened it up and began rummaging through it. “Dammit, someone’s been drinking my beer.” “You keep your own stock of beer in the break room?”

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