Flashpoint Spike Novels & Stories

The Axis coils tight, vibrating against my ribs, furious at being restrained from protecting me the way it knows how. “I am choosing,” I say through clenched teeth, voice shaking, “not to respond.” The telemetry flattens. Dead still. The chamber goes silent. I sag against Rowan, every muscle trembling. “This,” I whisper, “is what consent looks like when power is real.” Someone cuts the feed. Too late. Enemy POV: The spike failed. She didn’t flare. She didn’t collapse. She internalized. That was not in the model. Public response is fracturing unpredictably. Sympathy metrics rising. Coalition credibility dropping.

Hearing voices, I ducked as a flashlight made its way through the parking lot accompanied by deep voices I presumed was security. When they finally passed, I lay back against the chair, a hand over my forehead, shaking my head. What the hell just happened? What the FRICKIN HELL just happened? My brain kept asking these delightful questions over and over and over again. I glanced down at the camera bag, reaching out to take it. Flipping through the footage I replayed the last scenes. Everything had been recorded except me, it seemed I knocked the camera down in my panic and now only a shadowed form of me was seen pulling out Justin from the water. Sighing I glanced down at my ripped shirt the

The reinforced soil of Zandor wasn't even dented by her slap, displaying just how amazing the Battlefield Mode was! General Siwa moved swiftly, and at the right time too; for her back had hardly left the ground when an earth spike as thin as a cicada's wing yet with the length of three men stacked together, sprouted from the ground and pierced the air. The sharp sound produced from its flash with the surrounding wind elements was akin to the sound produced from two clashing blades. This was a spike so sharp that General Siwa who didn't doubt Panther wondered if she would be unscathed from such a strike.

I giggled. "No that's no- fuck it just do it after." She said and cut off the link. Damn, she must be really furious. "This is going to be fucking interesting." Noah said as he leaned on the wall behind us. "Yeah..." —————————————————— "And this how the system immune is created, any question?" Blaze asked as the girls who he designated to be his assistant, stayed too close to him much to my displeasure. She was touching him, his strong arms. She can't fucking do that!

Even if Blair had money and influence, it would not be easy to find the legend. At that thought, a hint of disappointment appeared in Spike’s eyes. Blair did not speak and went upstairs. Spike saw his reaction and rolled his eyes. ‘Is he retreating because he can’t do it? ‘Sure enough, I overestimated him.’ Unexpectedly, Blair came back downstairs not long after with a laptop. He placed the laptop in front of Spike and said, “If you can crack the firewall on this laptop before I come back, I’ll get Blackwood to teach you programming.”

************************* "Tomorrow's the big day huh?" "Yeah," Rico smiled. "Woulda been today but, I let everyone go home for the holidays. Once we wrap up shooting tomorrow, the first episode of The Spark goes live," he grinned, clicking his glass with Jessi's. "It's gonna be a bang." Jessi took a sip and relaxed, dropping her glass on the stool between them. She'd replaced Sofia and Ryan on the recliner and they'd been speaking since then. "Hey, Rico didn't know you guys were here."

I shook my head—don’t—small enough only she could see. Liam’s eyes flicked sideways; he’d caught the exchange. “Your friends are loyal. Shame they can’t protect you from yourself.” And then everything exploded. --- A crack of brush to my right—Rowe burst out, pistol raised. In the same breath, two things happened: Liam hurled a silver disk underhand—like skipping a stone. I recognized it: a flash-bang. “Down!” I shouted. Liz dove. Rowe fired—but the blast detonated first: a hammer of white-light and concussive thunder. My vision blanked; my eardrums rang. I hit the path hard, the scent of scorched granite filling my nose.

comes a man’s voice from the door. “I am, don’t scare me like that,” I shout. I carefully walk through the maze of glass, but it's difficult. Very difficult. With every step, I wobble, and teeter, side to side, because the wooden floors are angry with me. The carpet doesn’t want to be my friend, and I fell to the floor, getting glass into my arm, and I cried out. Everything goes dark and I know why it was some bad sugar. It was spiked. No wonder Seth was in such a rush to get me to my room.

In their warped realities, they’re fighting for survival against a monster. Their Class Abilities flare in the dark. Spark’s is water-based—sharp, pressurized jets that slice through the undergrowth. Marcus’s is fire—explosive bursts of orange and red that set the damp leaves smoldering. The clash is a chaotic light show of steam and embers. I don’t intervene. I can’t. Not in my current state. Two veterans at full power, even crazed, would shred me. I think. They were functional this afternoon. Arrogant, but coherent. The madness came with the night. It’s not random. There’s a trigger.

“I felt her.” There’s a difference, and he hears it. Across the platform, a technician frowns at a scrolling neural graph. “We logged a spike,” she says. “Brief cross-channel resonance.” I bark a humorless laugh. “You mean a bond.” She pretends not to hear that. The surge fades quickly, too quickly, but it leaves heat behind, like metal after lightning. The silence that follows isn’t empty anymore. It’s occupied. Breathing. Waiting. Relief hits hard enough to make me dizzy, and right behind it comes fury. Cold, clean, useful.