Garrison Aot Novels & Stories

“If anyone suspects—” “They won’t,” came the deep rumble of Garrison. Confident. Cold. “Your daughter plays her part well enough. The girl doesn’t see her as a threat.” Elara’s stomach twisted. Sereyna. Kael’s jaw clenched, fury in his eyes. “Still,” Garron muttered, “the assassin was sloppy. My men nearly caught him.” “You’ll be more careful next time,” Garrison replied smoothly. “We need Elara pliant. Kieran will handle the rest.”

"And business is currently in flux. Isn't that right, Garrison?" He turned his gaze to me, the curiosity in his eyes sharpening into something harder, more calculating. "Phoebe. You look... transformed. A new look for a new life?" "A new look for a final act," I said, my voice smooth, cool, and entirely unyielding. The air between us felt thin, charged with a tension that was audible, a low-frequency hum of impending violence. Garrison was the predator, the man who had built his life on the ruins of others. He thought he was playing against a machine. He thought he was playing against a victim.

Now it was just wind, empty fields, and the occasional burned-out outpost. “First garrison’s 20 miles east,” Ryn said, checking the map. “Garrison 7. Captain’s name is Varn. Human. Loyal to Thorne, but he respects the Crown.” Kade sniffed the air. “No smoke. No blood. Good sign.” They reached Garrison 7 by noon. The gates opened before they knocked. Captain Varn stood there, 40 years old, scar across his jaw, eyes sharp. He looked at Kade, then at Ryn, then at the wagons.

Who would have thought that the Moore family was so closely connected to Sachin Taylor, to the point that they had even sent Auster Moore and the Twenty-Three Golden Garrison to pick him up after he was released from the tower. “Stop them.” At Auster’s order, the golden garrison immediately took action. Even though not even half of the garrison had come cover, they were still able to show off their tremendous combat powers that could make people go numb. Around ten of these people were enough to stop Zeppelin, Jermaine, Matthew, and the rest of Wolf’s Den. Tyr frowned. It was like he could see himself in this Auster guy.

Sirens wailed faintly in the distance, someone finally called them but it was too late. By the time they arrived, there’d be nothing left but smoke and corpses. I looked down at my hands, blood-soaked and raw. I felt nothing. Not guilt. Not triumph. Just silence. Unfinished business. I turned toward the car parked near the tree line, slid in, and exhaled. Then I grabbed my phone and called one of our operatives stationed near Ricci’s estate. The line connected. “Matteo,” the voice rushed, panicked. “You hit The Garrison,bwhy?”

Temilorun asked calmly as she walked into Gwenevere’s room and threw her bag on the bed. “I’m as surprised as you are.” Gwenevere stiffed her neck, shook her head and began walking toward the backyard, Temilorun following. The backyard of the houses were connected in such a way that seven houses had a wide land space with no boundaries, running from the first house to the last. It was one place for interaction. The two ladies crossed from the backdoor to the concrete ground of the back yard. It was a party. “Have some wine! Drench yourself in the love!” A young man yelled as he approached them.