روايات وقصص ضمن Female Armored Titan

yet. Outside the Walls stood a column of armored artillery, each bearing the colors of their respective ADFs. The Solar ADF M1 Abrams and Cromwell tanks being black and blue while the futuristic armored beam tanks of the Gemminite being bright blue and gold. In the opened cupola of the Gemminite vehicles stood bright blue droids with golden skull face plates. Red lights emanated from its empty eye sockets. Green lensed monofocals were attached on their left eyes, displaying yellow corsairs at the advancing Dusk Riders.

Warmonger Chassis Type 13 [A] - Primal Machinations “Planetcracker” Omniresonant Greathammer [S] - Primal Machinations “Primdahl” Round Shield [A] - Mechanica Dharma “Retribution” Mass Driver Pistol [A] — Each of them were installed with the hyperionization submodules that Raijin had put together, which helped protect their armor and shields from Imperial disintegrators. And so they easily raised their shields in front of them, and happily shrugged off any incoming fire from the ships they charged towards.

He stopped in his tracks, his gaze locking onto a vehicle parked alone in a dimly lit corner bay. ​He walked over to the bay, drawn to the machine like a magnet. ​It was a flagship luxury performance vehicle, a monstrous, heavily sculpted dark grey coupe with sharp carbon-fiber accents, massive ceramic brakes, and an intimidating, wide-body stance. It looked less like an executive car and more like a stealth fighter jet on wheels. It possessed a raw, commanding presence that practically screamed power and authority. ​The receptionist returned just then, holding a leather folio of documents. He turned to Hazel. “You'll need to sign a few things, ma'am.”

Julian whispered, his voice a dark, hollow sound of absolute dread. The morning fog slowly began to part, revealing the terrifying reality waiting for them on the pier. Standing in a perfect, disciplined tactical half circle directly between their group and the cargo freighter were thirty heavily armed mercenaries. They were not wearing the standard black tactical gear of the Vanguard Syndicate, and they were not carrying the brutal, varied weaponry of the triad. They were all dressed in pristine, immaculate white tactical armor. They held advanced, suppressed automatic rifles perfectly leveled at Julian chest. Standing in the very center of the white armored legion was a tall, incredibly el

Rain lashed against the camera lens, but the picture was clear enough to freeze my blood. A team of six figures was advancing on the main gate. They weren't wolves. They were humans—or something that looked human—clad in sleek, black matte armor that covered every inch of their skin. They moved with terrifying synchronization, like a single organism rather than individual soldiers. No wasted movements. No hesitation. One of them raised a large, boxy weapon attached to his arm. THWUMP.

Jagged metal bit into my jacket. I pulled my knees to my chest. Made myself small. Stopped breathing. Through the gaps in the rusted casing, I saw them. Two armored personnel carriers, painted the stark, terrifying white of the Obsidian Citadel, crushed the debris piles I had just been standing on. They ground to a halt fifty yards away. The back ramps hissed open—a release of pressurized air that smelled of ozone. Soldiers poured out. Uruks. The Soldier Caste. They were massive. Arms thick with muscle and encased in standard-issue iron-weave armor. I saw the bronze armbands glinting in the twilight. They didn't move like men; they moved like predators. Heavy. Too fast. Wrong.

that he shuddered fully. "That's right. Only the armored battalion wears armor of this design. They fight valiantly, too," the officer replied. "Are you sure you didn't mistake them for someone else?" The general couldn't believe it. Would the Diatoranian God of War really lead troops in battle by himself? "The soldiers in the armored battalion wear silver armor and are all extremely strong. They're also holding flags that have the two words 'Armored Battalion' on them. They're undoubtedly Caspian Lynch's most trusted troops!"

He engaged a series of toggles on the dashboard, and the Titan’s massive engine roared to life, a sound that seemed to vibrate through the very foundations of the bypass. As the convoy approached the exit, Alistair’s security detail launched their assault. Kinetic barriers slammed into place, and a volley of high-velocity rounds hammered against the Titan’s Level 7 ballistic armor. The sound was like a thousand hammers striking an anvil, but the Titan didn't even flinch. "Deploying drone swarm," Elias commanded.

All she wanted to do was rest her sore body until she didn’t feel pain anymore. AFTERNOON came when Drake’s Beta suddenly rushed towards him with a pale face. “Alpha!” Beta Dillon called. Without an obeisance, he continued. “Alpha, there’s an unforeseen attack from the outside this morning. Some of our soldiers were slaughtered,” he informed, trembling. Drake’s forehead knitted. He looks livid and ready to kill someone mercilessly. “Who the fuck are they?” “Humans, Alpha,” Beta Dillon answered. Drake balled his fists; his face became expressionless. “Are you sure about that? Don’t you know the rouge actions lately? They’re quiet and not attacking anymore after the last encounter with them.”

War fought the urge to growl at his superior as he smiled briefly at Pomelia before re-adjusting the mirror. "Where am I? We left the compound," she gasped, looking out the window with a look of fear on her face. She was shaking slightly, glancing at Alpha Khan before looking, to War, then at Trent. She was obviously intimidated by all of the male energy in the car.