Enclave Remnants Armor Novels & Stories

The penthouse suite was flooded with the bright, golden light of the morning sun, the mountain wind rustling the sheer curtains of the balcony doors as if last night's violence had never occurred. I walked into the private master closet, pulling two sets of heavy tactical gear from the high-clearance racks. The Crescent Warrior armor was built for high-intensity sector operations lightweight, layered Kevlar plating embroidered with the silver crescent crest across the shoulders and reinforced with internal titanium threading to resist claw impacts. I stripped out of my rumpled formal uniform, pulling the dark tactical shirt and structured pants over my frame before locking the heavy chest pl

Jake glanced at the front of his RV—a White Spike's bone quill was still embedded in the reactive armor. That single spike had dropped his defense by 2%. He didn't get out to deal with it. Instead, he rolled up to the creature's corpse and let the Auto-Collect feature sweep the loot into his storage space. Then his eyes landed on the crippled main battle tank. Now that was a fat score. The treads were snapped, the turret was busted—but that twenty tons of military-grade armored steel? That was the real prize. Scrapping it would add a huge chunk of specialty steel to his subspace.

He had thought of naming them earlier; he would call them the 18 Sharp-Clawed Zombies with Metallic Armor. 'Since they're zombies with metallic armor, they should receive better armor.' Lucas activated the Points Mall in his mind and started to search for something. Ripple Metallic Armour: Capable of increasing one’s defense by 10 percent. Price: 10000 points. Lucas bought 18 Ripple Metallic Armors without a second thought. Subsequently, with the Fusion Grid in his mind, he equipped the 18 Sharp-Clawed Zombies with Ripple Metallic Armor. All of a sudden, the 18 Sharp-Clawed Zombies became genuine 18 Sharp-Clawed Zombies with Metallic Armour.

Soon a pile of bodies were piling up at Kronos’s feet and steadily increasing. “ Enough!” came a loud and commanding feminine voice. The small gathering of the few remaining soldiers parted for a six-foot woman with twenty- three winters on her back. She had light blue hair and golden eyes full of contempt and disdain, She wore elegant black plate armor. The shoulders were pointy, wide, and quite large. They were decorated with two rows of bones on each side, one row is at the front and the other on the backside. Her upper arms are protected by squared, fully covering rerebraces which sit perfectly under the shoulder plates. Her lower arms were covered by vambraces which have a metal snake c

Making my way to my room, I slipped into my black tactical shirt, pants, boots and gloves readying to head out to what me and the guys called the maze. Sending a text to Papa and Madre that I was leaving and to let Val know, I jumped into my Subaru WRX and took to the wild terrain of my back yard. The bumps and dips toggled me and loosened up my body so that I could enjoy the hunt. I grabbed my walkie and let out a howl, waiting for a signal to go at any moment. "The motherfūcker is back! You're clear to enter into the game Claymore." The nickname given to me by my brothers in arms was code for battle. I clipped the walkie to my Molle webbed belt and picked up my knives sliding them into the

Still vulnerable to someone who could see them. I reached for the Enforcer's right arm. Found the core thread holding it together. The primary connection. And I cut it. The arm didn't just disappear. It unraveled. Started at the shoulder and worked its way down, pieces of armor and hydraulics and synthetic muscle simply ceasing to exist. One moment the arm was there, the next it was gone. The Enforcer staggered. "WARNING. STRUCTURAL DAMAGE. ARM UNIT ONE OFFLINE." But it cost me. God, it cost me.

"He wants you to wear whatever is inside to the Alpha gathering tonight." I step forward, pressing my thumb against the blood-rune seal. The heavy steel lid snaps open with a sharp hiss. Inside lies a breathtaking set of silver-scaled shadow-armor, woven from midnight-silk and rare moon-iron that glimmers like starlight under the torchfire. Small, cut silver-pearls are embedded along the shoulder guards, designed to deflect rogue blade strikes while accentuating a warrior's form. It is the work of a master forge-smith from the Northern Sanctums—a piece worth more than a dozen pack territories.

Ones they had never seen before. They wore armor. Real armor. Not scrap-metal bullshit or stitched-up rags. Bulletproof vests, plated shoulders, boots laced with spikes and tied tight like soldiers. Their eyes glowed green—not like normal rogues. Not even feral. Enhanced. “What the actual fuck...” Seth muttered, rising slowly. Renox’s gunfire paused for just a moment as he caught sight of them. The Alpha’s jaw tightened, and he signaled to his Beta. “Rina. We’ve got company. Level 2. Switch to armor-piercing.”

Eya inspects her handy work making me smile at how proud she is. “It’s beautiful, you two did amazing work together,” I comment, grabbing the black leather pauldrons which are embossed to match the rest of her armor. The pauldrons are layered, almost like the scales of a dragon, working down covering Raven’s upper arms. I smile thinking of how Raven will look like a beautiful strong warrior queen in the stunning armor our vaari and her stepdaughter made for her.

And etched into the surface was a single red rune that pulsed with a heartbeat rhythm. Thump. Thump. The monocle over Valerius’s eye whirred frantically as it scanned the object. Valerius went pale. "That signature," he whispered. "That’s... that’s impossible. That’s Alpha-Class Aether-Steel. The Emperor’s personal reserve." "It is," Tristan lied smoothly. "Or rather, it was. My foundry in the Shattered Isles has reverse-engineered the molecular bonding process." He leaned forward. "I can mass-produce this, Valerius. Armor that deflects plasma. Hulls that cannot be breached. And I am looking for a distributor on the mainland."