Dc Comics Arsenal Novels & Stories

everyone echoed, their voices creating a thunder of their own. The armory was controlled chaos. Marcus oversaw the distribution of Moonbane weapons—daggers that could disrupt dark magic, arrows tipped with purification runes, even a few experimental bombs that I swore would work. "You swear, or you hope?" one warrior asked nervously, eyeing the glowing devices. "Bit of both," I admitted with a tired smile. "But hey, worst case scenario, we all die together. That's kind of beautiful if you think about it." The warrior stared at me like I'd grown a second head.

His knowledge for weapons and ammunition were out of this world. Arrow, also known as Aaron Nelson, nudged me with his shoulder as he sat next to me. He didn’t need to say anything. I knew I would see him later and he would fuck the anger out of me. At work we were strictly coworkers, but outside of work, he was my personal porn star. Who could say no to blonde hair and dark eyes. He looked like Justin Hartley as Oliver queen which just made his nickname even more ironic. He was the most skilled archer in the world. Guns were nothing to him. He was more lethal with an arrow. He truly was a real life superhero with not only his skill on the team, but also in the bedroom.

Battle gear (armors, bulletproof vests, helmets, shields) – Verid and Rocky Artillery (assault and sniper rifles, handguns, Tasers) – Zhackary and Jeffery Bioweapon (corrosive liquid, tranquilizer darts, poison arrows) – Rhianna and Jaden Explosives (land mines, bombs, nukes, improvised explosives) – Gina and Czar Food Production (animal hunting, food crop plantation, harvesting, food trading) – Goyo and Mono Improvised weaponry (spears, bows and arrows, daggers, halberd) – Keisha Medic Team (antidotes, first aiding team, medical tools and equipment) – Shino and Renz Battle Trainers (archery, military, bio, explosives, Med) – Archery: Rhianna; Military: Zhackary; Bio: Jaden; Explosives: Gina

On the top of the pile was a small circular disk. Creed grabbed the disk and pressed a button on the rim of the disk. A pre-recorded hologram immediately appeared in front of his face. Rolin, with his snale-like head, was staring at him. "There are all the arrows that I could arrange. A 234 in total. They are made of Darthar steel that didn't pass the quality check, yet they should be stronger and durable than any human-made arrows." He continued, "I suggest that you use them with caution… and send me the payment as soon as possible!"

The moment I do, Kella’s instincts kick in and she pulls me and Drake across the room as something in the drawer explodes, sending a dusting of powder into the air. Drake growls, beside me. “Now I know what the gloves are for,” he says, going to the desk and picking up some heavy looking gloves. He goes to the drawer, pulling out a box. It looks like it might be wood under the dusting of powered silver and vervain. Drake takes it to the bathroom attached to the office and dumps it in the sink. I hear the water turn on as he grabs a towel and washes off the box. When he brings it back out, he sets it on the desk and opens it slowly.

Ares, who at that time had just returned from a war in the West, admitted that they was tired and no longer wanted to deal with greedy humans. As a result, Ares begged Arlcia so that the goddess would take his place. Cia complied, and he descended to Earth in a battle suit. The armor uses a material that is very light, but still safe if hit by a sword. Cia added a robe to support her appearance, a rose gold robe that was so cute.

They were haggard, their skin pale and sallow from a lack of Sombra-vitamins, their eyes darting with the frantic energy of the "Old Human." In the center of the group stood a man in a bulky, hydraulic exoskeleton. It was a crude piece of machinery, powered by a rack of lead-acid batteries that hummed with a different, more mechanical frequency. This was Cassian Ares, the son of Julianna, the "Iron King" of the tunnels.

In my last life, I single-handedly wiped out a rival gang, winning great honor for the Family. My mother handed me control of her private arsenal, worth hundreds of millions. Before I could even take inventory, the convent orphan my family had adopted quietly changed the codes, and handed the entire shipment to homeless men in slums controlled by our enemies. Staring down my gun, she crossed herself, her face full of pity. "God tells us to love the world, Alessia. Sitting on all those instruments of murder is a sin. I am only atoning for you." I scoffed, but one second before I pulled the trigger, my childhood friend, the Family's top killer, shot the gun from my hand and denounced me as blo

Christ . Although she’d braced herself for the sight, the amount of weaponry collected still unsettled her. AR-15s, AK-47s, shotguns, and a variety of rifles and handguns were neatly arranged on the walls as if they were mere tools on a pegboard in someone’s garage. Several magazines or boxes of corresponding ammo sat under each weapon, prepped and ready to use. No wonder Dad was huffing when he hauled all this in. Every bag he was carrying must’ve been ready to burst.

Instead, we found the entire House of Ares in a state of bewildered, frantic mourning. Black banners hung from every archway, and the air was thick with the hushed, somber tones of a household preparing for a funeral. We had returned with a legendary weapon, a tool that could turn the tide of a war, but the war had already moved on without us. We found Androkles in the practice yards behind the main house, not in a war council, but brutally sparring with a training dummy, his every strike a furious, punishing blow. He was a coiled spring of rage, his Ares power a visible, crimson aura that clung to him like a shroud.