Glitchtrap And Vanny Novels & Stories

added the woman, "she's the Viper!" "Well, thanks a..." Vince was about to say before he turned around and a jet of vomit shot off from his mouth. "You're...welcome!" the Viper responded, smiling at the woman before turning around and bolting away in a flash of green and blue. "I thought I told you to take a light breakfast before the mission," the woman said comically to her male counterpart. "Oh shut up, Perkins!" Vince retorted before throwing up again. 🚀🚀🚀

"They found the breach! They're going to De frag the whole catwalk!" One of the claws…..a jagged thing of chrome and laser light swung down, snatching a glowing sector bubble from the air and crushing it instantly. A million lives vanished in a puff of blue static. "Vane, we have to jump!" Elara grabbed his lapels, pulling his face close to hers. "Into that?" Vane looked at the abyss, his grey eyes reflecting the flickering sectors. "Elara... my legs... I’m an anchor. I’ll pull you down with me."

The ambient air around the gun was visibly warping, the localized gravity already buckling under the sheer hydrostatic tension building inside. Standing on the elevated command gantry above the engine was Commander Vane. The former Chief Siege Master of the Empire looked like a walking corpse. Half of his face was heavily scarred from the palace collapse fourteen years ago, his left eye replaced by a crude, scavenged mechanical lens. He wore the heavy, plated iron armor of the old Imperial Guard. He saw me walking through the chaos of the canyon floor. "Architect!" Vane’s voice boomed through a rusted mechanical megaphone, echoing off the canyon walls. "You're too late! The compression is lo

​The Vane’s Legacy II screamed through the "Null-Fold," but the vibration was different. It wasn't the smooth, rhythmic hum of the Republic’s slipstream. It was a jagged, mathematical friction, as if the ship were being forced to move through a sea of frozen numbers.

I bared my fangs, stepping forward as my heavy claws clicked against the floor, ready to tear his throat out. "Look at you..." Vane whispered, entirely unfazed by my aggression. He didn't step back. He didn't even reach for a weapon. He kept walking toward me, his hands trembling as he gestured wildly. "This is beautiful! Do you see it, Doc?! Look at the genetic stability! No degradation, no monstrous deformities! This is absolute perfection!" I snapped my jaws violently at his face, a warning. But, he merely laughed, a breathless, hysterical sound.

Lirvae’s frantic scream echoed from somewhere across the courtyard, but she was surrounded by three attackers of her own, her claws busy defending her own throat as she tried desperately to break through the line to reach me. I tried to scramble backwards, my fingers clawing at the mud as I looked for an opening, but my body was slow, the concussion from the wall impact making the world spin violently. Naryvex screamed inside my head, a frantic, desperate warning as the three elites closed the distance, their heavy boots stepping into my space, their iron nets spreading out over my head. "Don't damage the asset," Vane ordered flatly, his voice cold as he stepped forward, his heavy leather bo

The floor to ceiling mirrors of the master suite reflected a silhouette that no longer bore any resemblance to the broken woman who had escaped the Vance estate. Exactly ninety days had passed since Vivienne Vane walked away from the chemical filters and the dark basement rooms. Standing under the soft, ambient lights of the Thorne Estate, her posture was entirely restored, sleek, toned, and radiating a dangerous, sharp vitality. Her skin was flawless, catching the light with a luminous glow that completely erased the memory of her illness, and her dark eyes flashed with an intense, lethal intelligence.

He didn't just hold my hand—his fingers wrapped firmly around my wrist, pulling me flush against his side as the blinding white flash of paparazzi cameras erupted around us. “Mr. Voss! Over here!” “Mr Voss, is the Vreeth merger still on the table?” “Who is the woman? Is she family?” Harrison ignored the barrage, his grip on my wrist tightening into an unyielding, possessive brand. He steered me through the glass doors of the museum gallery, where the annual Voss Developments Charity Gala was in full swing. The grand hall was a sea of glittering diamonds, champagne flutes, and the low, predatory hum of high-society gossip.

Camlin retrieved the rapier to toss it again. “Vampires,” Kayla whispered as realization struck her. The rapier was of silver, and it burned the soldier. The three v’s on their arm badges. Terror consumed Kayla. “V Empire.” A loud bang. The glass wall behind Kayla and the rest shattered, shards of glass flying through the air. They parried the shards with their hands shielding their eyes, swiveling their heads aside. Some shrieked and bent over. The next second, one of the vampires flew into the room through the broken glass and grabbed Kayla, disappearing immediately.