Goob X Scraps Ship Novels & Stories

He'll see what mediation will do for us once he allows different thinking to replace his natural stubbornness. It's an hour before we take the motorbikes to the shipyard. I've only been here once before, and it was just as creepy then as it is now. The old ships are decrepit piles of rusted steel that look like they should be resting at the bottom of the ocean instead of being secured to endless brown docks. The ships tower above us and bob slowly in the nearly black water, making weird creaking sounds that heighten the entire creep factor.

"Rest easy! We only just met, less than half an hour ago, but I swear this — as long as I'm still alive, one day I'll rip off the Wolf Pack Guild Leader's head with my own hands, and offer it up to your spirit!" At the rear of the line, a convoy of over a dozen vehicles flying the "Scrap Guild" banner had just arrived. At the head, in a Level 4 truck, Danny wiped sweat from his brow, still calculating what supplies he'd want in exchange for today's scrap metal. "Where's the boss?" He'd only just stuck his head out the window when he saw a scene that made his heart stop cold. A black motorhome, one he knew all too well, was charging alone toward a steel wall of hundreds of armed rigs, and had

Sam jumped over the ledge, immediately turned around and held his hand out for me to grab. I would act surprised by his gesture, but to be fair, this behaviour was to be expected of any decent person. My fingers grasped his hand and his cool skin tingled against mine when he tightened his hold on me. With his assistance, I manoeuvred over the ledge, both feet landing on the grand wooden deck. As expected, the ship bore the signature black signature colour, adorned with dark red flags that fluttered in the breeze. Wooden sculptures of demons and bats stood high, all in attacking postures. Wruy followed closely behind me. After a moment of marvelling at the ship's masterful construction, I red

Bob growled as he cautiously walked around the stopped ship. With careful steps, Bob slid down the deck of the ship, trying not to attract the attention of anyone who might be inside. After passing through a dark and narrow passage, he made it to the gangway and jumped ashore. Under the glorious moonlight, Bob was relieved to have escaped his captors. However, he knew that his adventure was just beginning. He had to be careful and vigilant, as threats still lurked in places he didn't know. Soon after, his eyes were drawn to a row of ships docked in the harbor. One of them caught his attention. A fishing boat didn't seem to be well maintained, and Bob saw an opportunity to hide in it.

A sudden, deafening impact rattled the Royal Vanguard’s iron ribcage. From the pitch-black water on the starboard side, a massive, segmented appendage—forged from calcified bone and covered in rows of glowing green eyes—shot upward, slamming directly into the ship's secondary gantry. The force of the strike sheared through three-inch iron plating like dry twigs, throwing four Frost-Tooth scouts into the freezing swell below. Before the scouts could even shift to their wolf forms, the boiling water tore open.

​The Orbital Shadow ​High above Neo-Tokyo, the Pen-Ship, a massive, golden vessel shaped like a fountain pen nib, began to rotate. Its underside glowed with a terrifying, sterile white light. This was the "Scrub-Beam," a weapon that didn't explode; it simply removed the data of anything it touched. ​"Target lock confirmed," a robotic voice echoed through the tactical suite's speakers. ​"They're early!" Elena shouted, slamming her hand against the desk. "We’ve only decoded forty percent of the Null-Sector coordinates!"

They frantically scan the area, ready for whatever is coming our way. The other half rushes to pull back my brother. They seem to be perfectly trained for this kind of situation. “Get off me, you buffoon,” River mumbles, pushing the guard away and getting out, eyes on the destroyed yacht a couple of meters from the shoreline. Engulfed in flames and black smoke, the Scott VII is no more. Jackson hurries and hides River behind him, while three guards cover their rear. Pow! Boom! More small explosions. Flaming pieces of metal wheel through the sky.

They turned back toward the landing craft, their blades glowing with the same white heat that was currently incinerating my own nerves. ​I walked out of the Hub and onto the main observation deck. The Scrapyard was a vision of hell. Three Harvester Dropships, which were massive, tripod-like structures, had slammed into the valley floor, their legs crushing the historical archives of the old world into powder. From their bellies, swarms of Seekers were pouring out. They were small, multi-legged constructs designed to harvest biological matter, and they were moving toward the civilian sectors with a terrifying, silent speed. ​“You came to the wrong world,” I said. My voice was amplified by the

“The water drains away automatically wherever the ship passes!” Alex grabbed Bea and quickly dodged to the side. The speeding ship missed them by the skin of their teeth, and ripples brushed past their faces like blades in its wake. Alex clearly saw a large “Rouge” painted on the hull of this undersea cruise ship. Someone else was present in the Nine Yin Heavenly Ruin. Just as this thought crossed Alex’s mind, that ship stopped suddenly, swiftly reversed course, and stopped in front of the two people. Subsequently, several people came down from it.

The scent trail had disappeared with the tide, but they kept going, eyes scanning the vast expanse of water for any sign of the pirate ship. Hours passed. It wasn’t until nightfall that one of the scouts finally spotted something in the distance— A ship. Burning. The scent of smoke and burning flesh was thick in the air as Alex stood at the edge of the yacht, staring at the burning wreckage in the distance. The flames crackled and hissed against the ocean, casting an eerie glow over the bodies floating in the water. The stench of charred fur and death clung to the salty wind, turning his stomach.