Clone Wars Hevy Novels & Stories

Mara nodded, impressed. Then the horns blew. And war swallowed us. The Clash Rogues poured like a black flood over the ridge, teeth bared, eyes too wild to be called human. The world collapsed into noise...growls, steel, the thump of bodies hitting the dirt, the air thick with the iron-sting of blood. My wolf surged inside me...fur and silver and instinct, a storm clawing at my ribs. “Hold the line!” My voice thundered over the battlefield.

The clone stepped inside the bearkin's reach and drove a fist into the warrior's ribs, a blow so fast and heavy it sounded like a cannon shot. The bear-kin was thrown backward, gasping for air as his chest caved in. "Conventional trauma will not stop them!" I shouted, watching three more clones swarm a wolf-kin fighter. "They heal too fast!" Ashren met the charge of the clone head-on. He grappled with one of his own grey-skinned mirrors. The sheer physical strength of the two titans colliding cracked the marble floor beneath their feet. The clone swung a brutal right hook; Ashren caught it, his muscles bulging as he fought the stolen strength of his own bloodline.

They were going to overcharge. Harlow's Goliath released its crushing pressure on my Crusader, taking a step back from my battered mech. "There," Harlow announced, "now you're not going anywhere! With your mech pushed into the side of this building, it's effectively immobile! Now if you'll excuse me, I'll retreat to a safe distance to watch the fireworks."

The bay doors opened as the marines take in the luscious scenery of forests, oceans, and mountains. Some of them took off their helmets as the vast scenery of Ren'veil swept the hearts of each warrior, as though they had fallen in love for the first time. One of Kent's close allies and friends aboard the Night Hawk, Clayton Carmive, is the Resident muscle of the Strike team. He often wore a Generation 4 Tactical Knight armor – Heavy Herculio. Like Rex's suit, it is also equipped with jump-kit boosters, gravity boots, and a grappling hook gun. The suit can be compared to a behemoth in terms of size due to its base design was derived from the heavy knights during Terran Age 2942 in Xheronian t

“We’ve got a problem.” Amara looked up. “What now?” Cassian pointed at the monitors on his wrist drone. From the ashes of the explosion, a shadow was rising — her clone again, untouched, eyes burning brighter than before. “You can’t destroy what was made to replace you.” The clone’s voice echoed through the ruins like thunder. “I am the Crown of Nothing. And your reign ends tonight.” Luca stood weakly, pulling Amara close. “Then we end her — together.” Amara’s eyes glowed with fury. “No. I end her.”

The battlefield, which had been silent just moments before, now trembled with the weight of an impending war. "Now," Cora whispered under her breath, the words full of promise and bloodlust. "Let it begin." The battlefield was a war-torn symphony of chaos and bloodshed. The clash of swords, the roar of battle cries, and the heavy thud of bodies hitting the ground echoed through the air as the three clans engaged in a merciless struggle. It was clear—Cora’s clan was out for dominance, and they were pitted against the combined forces of Norwan’s and Natalie’s clans. The odds were staggering, but it wasn’t just about numbers—it was about strategy. And in this moment, Cora’s clan seemed to have

"Your father was Stuart Bent Snr. He died in the bomb blast that killed dozens of Blood Crest Pack members. You are the first child of two and the only surviving one. You enjoy watching wrestling matches even though you hate the real deal. For a snack, your go-to is dark chocolate. Might I add more?" "It's really you, Alpha Seven!" Stuart screeched. I nodded. "The real one. Not the same as the impostor, got it?" Stuart shook his head slowly. "Are you really saying that a clone has been ruling over us for five years? How is that even possible?"

My eyes were on him as I enunciated, "I've been blind all this time, Jackie, but that won't happen again." A pregnant pause seized the hall. Jackie was black as thunder, and if looks could kill, I'd have dropped dead. He clenched his fists and roared at the nearby bodyguards. "Don't just stand there! Toss this crazy bitch out!"

Creatures filled the valley. Ware-wolves so massive and terrifying, their bodies larger than any she had ever seen, their movements fast and brutal. Their eyes burned with rage, glowing in the darkness as they lunged, tore, and fought each other with a savagery that shook the ground beneath them. Their howls rose into the storm, blending with the thunder, creating a sound so powerful it seemed to tear through the air itself.

Unable to tolerate such insinuations, Jericho's anger surged within him. In one swift motion, he lunged forward, his fingers closing tightly around the Minister of Finance's collar. His voice, measured and tinged with a dangerous edge, sliced through the air like a blade. "Are you threatening me?" Jericho's tone brooked no compromise, his eyes burning with intensity as he locked his gaze with the minister's. Caught off guard by Jericho's sudden aggression, the Minister of Finance fumbled for words, his voice trembling with fear. "N-No, my lord! I-I would never dare to threaten you. I was only trying to emphasize the importance and connection of our current situation."