Gladiator Megatron Novels & Stories

He is so happy because he will finally be able to escape this chaotic world and they will be able to fulfill the simple dream of Akira and his as a normal couple. When he arrived at the condo, he immediately took a shower first to be able to clean and to make sure if he hadn't been scratched before. As the water flows through his body you can see the blood of his victims clinging to him gradually flowing into the sink. Azrael’s body is full of scars from his wounds from his previous missions and on his back is a large tattoo— “Deus Mortis” which in Latin means “God of death” is what the organization called him because of the number of impossible missions he has accomplished.

He froze, panting. "So, The Destroyer has awoken!" Magnus' voice boomed over the crashing of the waves, mocking him. Brand heard the mumbling and shifting of a crowd. He said a silent prayer to the gods that Astrid and Ulfhild had somehow escaped. "Get him up," the Chieftain commanded, and the now familiar giant hand grasped his upper arm and yanked him to his feet. He glared at Sigurd as he spat sand from his mouth. The man smirked at him, and Brand's wolf snarled. This time, he didn't try to mask the sound and was rewarded with a look of uncertainty crossing the giant's face.

It barely covered my thighs, and the fabric clung to my breasts, making my nipples poke through. Heads turned my way. Men in the stands pointed and whistled. I felt exposed, but a thrill ran through me. This was my chance for something wild. I scanned the arena. Three gladiators caught my eye. They had just won their fight and stood tall, covered in sweat and grime. The first one, Marcus, was bald and huge, over six feet with muscles like rocks. He held a net and trident, his eyes sharp and hungry. Next to him was Secundus, dark hair matted to his forehead, broad chest heaving as he gripped his sword. His arms were thick from years of battle.

So far, Leon had fought dozens of times and was still alive. It was a special day because a noble had a beast to release into the gladiator arena. The animal had a giant body that was stocky and strong like a bull but had leather wings like a bat. His eyes were blood red, and his head resembled the head of an ugly monster. A row of sharp fangs lined like saw blades in its grimacing mouth, ready to crush anything. His foul-smelling saliva dripped down. His eyes were wide with threat, accompanied by a terrible growl.

The cheers and chants from the spectators echoed like distant thunder, creating an overwhelming sensation for the young gladiator who was accustomed to the confined space of the House of Decimus. Facing the notorious Gaius Pratas, known as the "beast of Pratas," Alcides sensed the gravity of the challenge ahead. Pratas, a seasoned and ruthless gladiator, exuded confidence with every step. The crowd's thunderous cheers for their favorite champion added to the pressure mounting on Alcides' shoulders.

“There are two mighty warriors behind Dragun Squad. One is Maxime, a man who can read the secrets of God’s design, and the other is Spartacus, a man who can suppress all the demigods with a single slash. This man is Maxime, dubbed as Faceless.” Clifford, Juan, and the others were taken aback as soon as these words were spoken. “The great warriors who are behind Dragun Squad are powerful enough to protect the Celestial Empire. Why would a legendary powerhouse like him visit Komodo Island unexpectedly?” “No idea.” Jim shook his head. Tyr and Knucker were swimming as fast as they could toward the river’s surface. The water became extremely dangerous after the riverbed's bottom was shaken. Tyr w

The staples I had driven into his side were visible—tiny, silver-white stitches against skin bruised an oxygen-starved purple. He wasn't fighting a King. He was fighting a Sledge-Wolf—a chemically enhanced monster with arms like tree trunks and eyes leaking necrotic fluid. "Betting is closed!" a voice shrieked. "The 'Mortal Relic' vs. The Butcher!" I watched, my pulse thudding a slow, syncopated rhythm. I didn't feel the fire of a fated bond. Instead, the Gilded Toll pulsed in my skull, a sharp, clinical erasure.

He said. “Your point?” “It’s not an old man. It’s Loki.” “Seriously?” Shiro could not believe it. “No doubt.” Mega answered. “I’m not gonna ask further. Speaking of, you said you’d tell me who that Matthew guy is.” Shiro sipped his coffee again. Megat also sipped his. “Yeah, I did.” “So who is he? A friend?” “He was… More like a rival. We were both among the strongest in our batch.” Megat said with a smile on his face, but it went down slowly. “But he’s different now. He’s… Weak. I still remember the time when he beat me up easily.”

If anything, Hadrian seemed protective, as huge as he was. Megan had been a latecomer she’d put with Brutus. In her opinion, he was “rough” which Eithne interpreted as “common”. Though not royal she had a famous ancestor and talked about the archbishop all the time. There was nothing remotely pious about the woman but she needed her on board from the outset. It wouldn’t do to be double-crossed from within. Rumour had it a new batch of gladiators was already being recruited. Eithne felt they had to act fast. She hadn’t managed to talk to all the girls but this would have to do.

They eventually reached the outnumbered enemies. Though everyone used their night vision, the eerie red glow of the Marc Antony's eyes gave the dark mech a grim facade. The vapor crest at the top of its head caused the medium mech in front of her to quail. Nevertheless, the pilot was a Platinum Leaguer, and he wasn't resigned to death. The enemy mech fired off an entire salvo of short-ranged missiles that blew back the Marc Antony, yet still the shield held though with half of its layers gone. "You're going to pay for that!" She yelled and dove back in to bash the mech into a battered pile of components.