Danmachi Wiene Death Novels & Stories

Damian Vale died quietly. Not in the way men usually did—no gunshot, no obituary, no dramatic fall from a building with a crowd to witness it. He died in databases. In access logs. In banking systems that suddenly showed **zero**. In facial-recognition grids that could no longer agree on who he was. By sunrise, Damian Vale officially did not exist. And that was exactly how war began. Elijah watched the final protocol execute, the last of Damian’s digital fingerprints evaporating into clean silence.

With all my strength, I tried to push his big head away but couldn’t. Suddenly, the door opened and a warrior came in. Dane turned to look at the person before a spear went through his head. He stood up and pulled it out of his eye in one swift move. Blood started pouring out. “What,” Dane started to say but the other man threw a stake right through his heart and Dane fell to the floor in a thud. I sat up, gathering my buttons as I stared at the new man. “Get out,” he said.

I scream, attempting to rush towards her but the wolf blocks my path then he jumps into the air and launches at me. I let out an ear slipping scream before everything went blank before my eyes. *~* (DAMIEN’S POINT OF VIEW) I find Vance quickly, sipping from a glass of wine and legs spread widely at the vip section of the bar. I occupy the sofa in front of him and pour myself a glass of wine. “How have you been, little nephew?” I tease. He rolls his eyes. “The joke isn't funny, Damein,”

"You'd still fight for the witch, right? See how low you've fallen, Damian!" Damian's response was a growl of contempt. He wrapped his massive hand around her neck, lifting her off the ground with ease. Alice kicked and struggled, but Damian's grip was unyielding. "To hell with you, Alice," he snarled, his teeth gritted in rage. With a swift motion, he snapped her neck, her body crumpling to the ground. Damian turned to Arya, his eyes softening as he saw her weeping over her dead child. He walked over to her and pulled her close to his chest, his voice a gentle whisper. "I'm sorry, Arya.”

Wenny Kammal had welcomed her own quietus, sitting stiffly on her wheelchair, with her unmoving as well as stationary body, with her widely as well as emptily gawking eyes. Mr. Andreas could merely held tightly his gentle pretty wife’s body so that his gentle pretty wife didn’t dash towards Wenny Kammal who’d now entered the gate of her own quietus, even without having any chance to squeal or squeak. She died instantly as soon as the three flying daggers stabbed through her heart and made her life evaporate up to the air. Mrs. Sumico could merely sob and weep loudly, sadly as well as sorrowfully. There really wasn’t a great deal which she could do.

he groans before snapping his fingers and we were back in Mika's house "Hehe," I grin before walking out of the bathroom with Death following and then stepping into Mika's room. I put my hands on Death's chest trying to push him out, but he smirked down at me standing up without even faltering a little. Before I was able to say anything, Death and I both ducked as a knife went flying over us. "Mika!" I shout turning around to her quickly, hoping that there are no more weapons in her assault. "Oh, I'm sorry," She says smacking my hand before knocking our fists, "Who's this?" She asks before looking at his face and jumping back

Pokémon-Go? Elena gazes at the red on Damien's arm. The blood was real. She knew blood, and the stuff trailing along on Damien's arm was fucking real. The fight blocked her from the door, and even though she wanted to fight them, they were too fast like the wind plus she wasn't holding a weapon. A soft grunt, and one of the Ninjas lost his blade. In the next instant, Damien held the blade, sunk it first into one man’s chest, then into the other’s neck.

She watched the poison vanish, a invisible death settling into the oak aged spirit. "You did good back there," Dante muttered. He finally leaned back, the chair groaning under his weight. He rubbed a hand over his face, dragging his palm across the three day stubble on his jaw. "The turrets. The way you didn't blink when that mercenary’s head opened up. That’s my girl." "I’m not your girl, Dante. I’m a Vane. You said it yourself." She picked up the glass. The weight of it was substantial. The liquid inside looked innocent, but it carried the scent of bitter almonds and a sharp, chemical bite that stung her nostrils.

Mario said, smirking. Dante's blood boiled in anger. "You will never be Done, Dante. Not when I am alive," Mario snarled. Dante reached to take out his gun, but Adrian was fast enough to shoot him in the head.

Ghost hesitated before blurting out, "It’s Mario—the Manzoni Don. He’s alive. Somehow, he survived the gunshot." Damon’s grip on the phone tightened, his jaw clenching as Ghost’s words sank in. "That's impossible."