Gears 3 Onyx Guard Novels & Stories

Red lighting fixtures flashed, and a mechanical voice announced: “Unauthorized entry detected. Security teams file to Level three immediately.” Vanessa’s voice became sharp. “Guards are on their manners. You want to preserve them off till the tool finishes.” The first wave of guards stormed in, their guns drawn. Ethan fired first, eliminating earlier than ducking in the back of a server rack. Rachel and I joined the fight, our actions coordinated as we held the line. Override Progress: 42%… 50%… “They’re bringing reinforcements!” Rachel shouted, reloading her weapon. Ethan cursed beneath his breath. “Vanessa, how a whole lot longer?”

Onyx answers for me. He hangs up the phone, walks back to the door, and allows them entry. “Ok, we are going to have the two of you guard the front door of the packhouse if you are up for it?” Onyx announces to them. “That would be wonderful. If you need anything, that is where you will find us.” Lebear bows before they leave the room and head down the elevator. “How do we get me out of here now?” I ask. “Luna, it is about time you learn some pack secrets,” Brett smirks.

The well-crafted weapon had a small red button on its wooden handle; the rest of its body was metallic. Elder Sand and his minions didn’t seem to care too much about the guard; for they completely ignored him. “State your names. If not I wouldn’t be polite.” The young guard frowned with a look of displeasure on his face. Not only were the three in front of him totally disregarding him, their clothes put him on the alert; for few innocents wore masks in the deep of the night. The guard stood up to reveal his large frame which had been concealed when he was sitting. His broad shoulders and thick, muscly arms suggested that workouts were a regular part of his week. And his long, bulky legs reve

They were all wearing hats. Despite their uniformed dresses, Zeidan could still make out who they are. "Gorge, Tate, Reyns. To whom do I owe this visit?" "You do know why we are here, Zeidan," Tate called, his hoarse voice barely audible. "If you're talking about the Onyx, till you die and reincarnate in a million years, you will never have your hands on it. Not while it's still in my possession." He made to walk past them when the trio drew out their weapons and started fighting him.

The clubhouse felt heavier than usual. Dust hung in the air, mingling with the faint smell of gunpowder, sweat, and metal from the bikes parked in the garage. Ghost leaned against the edge of a workbench, sleeves rolled up, rubbing at a fresh graze along his forearm. Pain radiated in pulses, but it was manageable. Survival had taught him to endure worse. Luca was nearby, methodical as ever, cleaning his rifle and attending to minor scrapes along his ribs.

Every step felt too slow. Mike drew his foot back again. Before he could strike, three security warriors launched themselves at him simultaneously. The impact drove him into the ground. More guards piled on top of him. Good. Because if they hadn’t reached him first, I would have. And unlike them, I wasn’t feeling particularly professional. “Kill him,” Onyx’s roar echoed. “Kill him now.” “We will buddy. I promise. He won’t get by with this,” I say as I try to calm him down.

Through the shattered glass panels, I saw a synchronized squad of twelve heavily armed, massive guards marching directly toward the entrance. They weren't wearing the standard black Vanguard outfit. They had thick, crimson bands wrapped tightly around their forearms. Thorne's mark. Seeing them approach, a violent, uncontrollable shockwave of heat exploded deep in my chest. My hidden Blood Moon Alpha genetics activated immediately, supercharging my senses and drowning out every single trace of fear with pure, unadulterated aggression.

The large branches of an old oak tree brushed against the brickwork just five feet away from the ledge. Far below, in the deep shadows of the service gates, a small, rhythmic flash of blue light blinked three times. It was a tactical military flashlight. Amora’s heart gave a massive, hopeful leap against her ribs. He was already there. ‘I see you,’ she whispered through the link. ‘Good,’ Oscar’s voice echoed back, smooth, calm, and completely steady. ‘The security cameras on the rear wall have just been looped by my tech specialist. You have exactly two minutes before the guard rotation notices the glitch.’

It was an awful feeling. I could barely speak without gritting my teeth. "Stop messing with me… I'm just a security guard. If my superior finds out, I could lose my job." Ms. Bombshell chuckled. She wrapped her hand around my manhood through my pants, gently squeezing it. "Think about it, Mr. Ziegler. Do you want me to give you a hand, or would you rather keep your boring job?" Her hand was small, but her grip was frightening. I found myself slowly melting away in her grasp.

Guardian Odele looked up with a menacing gaze. Kayson stood by the window, rage flashing across his eyes when he caught a glimpse of Zidane, whose injury was rather serious. He had used all the Chalcedony Juice he had on Hunter, and now Zidane suffered from the same injury. Evergreene energy was impeccable in treating superficial wounds, but it was not easy to repair crushed tendons! Kayson looked at Guardian Odele icily. “You’re one of Eden Joy’s five guardians?” Guardian Odele was brimming with killing intent as he answered coldly, “That’s right. I’m Guardian Odele. Who are you?”