Novel & Cerita Darth Vader Graphic

"I don't need your help and I never will. Dad built this company from the ground up, and I will never let anyone tear it down, not even you, Now if you will excuse me, get the hell out of my office, Mr Darth Lorray. Ethan said calling out his full name. His gaze had darkened by now. Darth stood up giving his usual grin, having an egg on his face, he walked out of the office. Ethan felt a sense of triumph but he also knew that the war was far from being over. Darth was a persistent enemy and he would stop at nothing to bring his nephew down. But Ethan did not care too much, he was ready for whatever came his way. He had worked too hard and sacrificed too much to let anyone stand In his way

"I see! Still… that's a lot of… items…" "Well that is to be expected since we are both working as forgers for more than 4 decades now!" "4 decades! " Creed gasped while pulling a shiny object from his bag, "Considering you have such a huge experience, I guess it won't be difficult explaining this to you…" In his hand Creed now held an extremely thin metallic rod the length of his fist. The rod was brutally bent from the middle, appearing similar to the alphabet 'v'. Everyone including Fang as well as both Darthar brother's eyes immediately traced the sight of the object in his palm.

The heavy plates slid aside, revealing a chamber filled with a blinding, white-blue light. In the center of the room stood Arthur Vane. He was standing over a holographic terminal, his fingers dancing across a display of glowing biometric keys. Half of his face was a work of liquid-silver art, the metal shifting and pulsing as if it were alive. He didn't look like my father anymore. He looked like a masterpiece of the Council’s madness.

Vladimir explained. He unwrapped his arms from around me and walked to his desk, opening it, he showed me a file which contained his drawings. I nodded at him, asking for permission to see the rest of the pictures. The one he showed me was of a black dragon with a red eye and fire coming out of its mouth. “Why’d you stop though?”

“What exactly do you mean by that?! Can’t you see that he’s going to get killed? Can’t you see they’ve almost beaten him to death? Let go of me right this instant, Darth. That’s an order!” Darth doesn’t even break a sweat. “I’m sorry once again, miss, but I do not take orders from you. My orders come from the boss and he wouldn’t want you down there.” My frustration finally reaches its peak and I lash out…horribly. I kick and scratch and hit every available surface of his body as tears stream down my cheeks. I’m pretty sure that I even draw blood, but Darth doesn’t let go. He holds on firmly until I sag against him, my chest heaving from exhaustion and apparent frustration.

“Do as I said if you want it gone. You have 24 hours before it makes you do things you do not want to do.” He laughed, cold and sinister. “I would’ve love to stay and tell you more, but…time’s up.” And with a smirk, he vanished. Vathar collapsed, the pain still gnawing through his insides like fire and teeth and knives all at once. The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was the black blood in the water—his blood—drifting like ink through the creek. ‘What kind of god is Dareth?’ Prince Ron asked Maelda. ‘Aren't all gods supposed to be kind and merciful?’

she battered her eyes at him. “Which if Forrest is Darth Vader, that means. Darius, is that you under the Mandalorian helmet?” her voice taking on a flirty tone. “Yeah, that would be me,” Darius answered, bored and not paying attention as he shook a rattle at Ryū to keep him happy.

I whispered weakly. Something like recognition slowly crossed his face, and the red glow of his eyes faded to a familiar stormy grey. There he was. Eldarien Vrathorn. Still covered in blood and damp strands of his dark hair, still flaunting double fangs from between his bloody lips. It was like whatever had possessed him had temporarily taken the back seat.

Livia's POV: She dismissed me and I immediately dashed towards the direction of the kitchen to prepare Alpha Xandros' lunch but I saw something that brought my feet to a sudden halt. A wall of paintings… painting of about seven different men each possessing red eyes and the symbol of lightning bolts on the left side of their chest that seems to illuminate light. “Who could they be?” The last painting caught my attention and all I could see was a striking resemblance between him and the man from the training ground.