Enclave Remnants Armor Novels & Stories

Which seems to pissed her off even more, As I apologize she grab the shard and kicked my shin with her high heel boots. "Is there anything good sir?..". (Mina) Seeing Elijah leave, Mina come closer. "well nothing much..just skill shards and this piece of Armour..Hey, Bar come here!..could you look at this?". I hand over the Rusted iron armour to Bar for him to inspect. I knew this armour has a magical enchantment place on it, since Bar was the expert on this, he should have a look at it. "Wow, Dwarven armour sure is amazing..though it almost totaled, the most important piece was still here….Sir, I believe this is a rare armour enchantment..it's High rank [Fire Resistant]..". (Bar)

Nevan’s voice was a low, jagged rasp. He was standing at the bunker’s heavy blast door. He wasn't wearing his tactical suit anymore; he was wearing the remains of the Syndicate’s experimental armor we had scavenged from the Kremlin’s vaults. It was designed to repel kinetic energy, but against what was coming, it felt like wearing paper. He held a pulse-claymore in his hands, the blade vibrating with a frequency that made the air around him blur.

Elara The echo of Kaelen’s voice vibrated off the granite tiers of the grand hall, leaving a cold, unyielding finality in its wake. I stood beside him at the center of the stone dais, my dark combat boots planted firmly on the polished slate floor. The dark, reinforced carbon-fiber plates of my commander armor absorbed the bright morning light pouring through the high arched rafters, framing my posture in a sleek silhouette of absolute military authority. Beneath the structured collar of my uniform, the gold-rimmed crescent brand throbbed against my skin, sending a steady, pulsing current of pure golden heat straight down my spine.

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

She raised his guard and waited for another attack to come but nothing happened. She took a look at the immobile figure standing in front of the building. It was a three meters tall set of armor with no face appearing on the helmet's hole. Blue runes emitted a soft light through all its body creating a blue halo around its figure. There were signs of combat on the armor as it was full of dents and holes. Seeing that the armor was unmoving, Sara relaxed and thought for a bit. 'Is it defending that area? How do I destroy it?'

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.

The heavy silence in the decontamination airlock was shattered only by the relentless hum of the Acheron's atmospheric scrubbers. The Vanguard Commander stood perfectly still, a monolithic figure in vantablack armor, analyzing the raw desperation radiating from Dante and Elara. His polarized visor reflected their battered forms: Dante, bruised and defiant, wielding a crude titanium wrench like a broadsword; and Elara, shivering yet resolute, her thumb resting millimeters from the data drive’s biometric kill-switch. The four mercenaries flanking the Commander kept their suppressed submachine guns leveled, the crimson laser sights forming a constellation of lethal intent across Dante’s chest.