Dc Comics Arsenal Novels & Stories

I slammed hard against the metal control console, my weapon skidding away into the dark as my breath was completely knocked from my lungs. Standing over me was General Marcus Vance. He didn't look like an old man anymore. Beneath his grey military tunic, his arms were reinforced with high-grade carbon-fiber exoskeleton braces, the same technology powering the synthetic soldiers below. His eyes were cold, dead, and focused entirely on my face. "You have your father's stubbornness, Aria," Marcus said, stepping toward me with slow, heavy strides. "Arthur always thought he could reason with the storm." He reached down, grabbing my neck with his reinforced hand, lifting me completely off the floo

"And if I can't understand?" Silvan simply raised his hands. Clack! Clack! All 36 men in the black robes took out unique firearms and disengaged the safety, aiming in Harvey's direction. "These weapons are specialized firearms Country A created against martial arts elites. Their bullets are created from toxins that could deal with True Warriors that Grand City has perfected. The ones with weapons are trained elites who with god-like accuracy and an iron will. If all 36 of them pull the trigger at the same time, even a living legend who has reached the level of uniting Man and Nature has to take a step back," Silvan explained calmly.

The Armory was unlike anything Avery had ever seen. The chamber stretched wide and endless, its walls lined with racks of obsidian-forged weapons—scythes, glaives, blades with edges so sharp they shimmered like glass. The ceiling was lost in shadow, but faint lights pulsed like dying stars above, giving the room a cavernous, oppressive weight.

Marcus had sequestered himself in the subterranean armory under the guise of cataloging the war spoils retrieved from Jax’s primary stronghold. Elena found him there, illuminated by the harsh, flickering light of a single iron sconce. The room smelled of old iron, dust, and dried blood. Massive wooden crates filled with shattered weapons, foreign armor, and confiscated coven artifacts sat open across the stone floor. Marcus was standing over a oak table, his dress jacket thrown carelessly onto a nearby barrel. His white linen shirt was damp with sweat, the dark silhouettes of his bandages showing through the fabric. He was sorting through a rusted iron chest, lifting heavy iron chains and th

He asked anxiously, "Then, when is she coming back? Is she in any danger now?" Leon looked at Vernon and said coldly, "I'm sorry, but you're not research personnel. I'm afraid our information is classified." Vernon frowned as he gave Leon the once-over. Just as the tension began rising between the two of them, one of my bodyguards, Guy Bloomsdale, suddenly ran over, panting loudly, and exclaimed anxiously, "Bad news! The village that Ms. Summers went to has just been ambushed!" This sudden news came out of nowhere, and Vernon immediately lost his cool. He looked like he'd just been struck in the head as he froze on the spot in a daze.

Chapter 75 Rhea's POV I had thought that Mercy was exaggerating when she said that there was an armory here. But right this moment, I was staring at a freaking armory fit for a king. Rows of swords, bows, daggers, whips, clubs, and spears were neatly arranged in the enormous room. My eyes widened when I saw that one side of the room was completely filled with guns ranging from simple pistols to shotguns. Was he hoarding the entire supply of weapons for the war? He was not a dragon, right? But dragons hoarded treasures, not weapons!

My tattoos were giving off a strong health glow and so was Sarin. I just started walking through the mansion and come across the room I could feel a strong pull towards. It was an armory Carden and Blake come in behind Sarin and I. "You're not going out there to fight," Carden said grabbing my arm. "You don't get to decide that Carden," Blake said rummaging through a chest of women's armor. Different weapons were on the wall above it. Sarin made Carden let go of my arm. Towards Carden, he said, "I'll have her back. I can't lose her this time either." Blake lead me to a dressing rise to dress me.

And it was an artificially crafted Origin Divine Artefact! The armor was a powerful divine artefact as well, and just like the axe, it was merged to his flesh and bones. So Mane could call upon it at any time. The daggers strapped to his legs were also Divine Artefacts. Although they weren’t as powerful as the gigantic axe, they were much stronger than Night Mare or Night’s Kiss. “Asgard,” Mane mumbled as he stroked his new axe.

“And yet… Here she is.” Ares slipped out of the bed. If anything, he looked less intimidating than I did – and yet his swirling arrogance made up for it, pushing out his chest and making him appear to grow a good half a foot in height. The blood-stained bandages around his head and chest became powerful, marks of war-wounds rather than signs of weakness, of failure in combat. He was a survivor, and he would survive no matter what Alpha Blare threw at him. I squared my shoulders. We would both survive – no matter what he threw at us.

Experts at combat, weapons, and bombs. Palace Blue, a huge mansion guarded by thirty armies. Five on the balcony, arm by an M16. Three in each five windows, arm by VCS and two in every five doors, arm with 12gauge Revolver Shotgun. The last five are guarding his door. Each arm with a V19 pistol. Got 45 P22, in my sleeve and DS-AR rifle with 2x scope.