High Rise Invasion Sniper Mask Novels & Stories

He didn't roar; he let out a low, predatory hiss that made the stone floor beneath Laila’s feet vibrate with raw, concentrated Alpha authority. He lunged back into the station, a black thunderbolt aimed directly at the narrow entrance stairs where the first wave of cartel enforcers was pouring through the smoke. These men weren't wearing the suits of the London Council or the tactical gear of the Aegis. They were dressed in long, dark leather coats, their faces obscured by specialized iron masks that resembled the petals of a stylized rose, the eye slits glowing with a faint, chemical violet light. They carried short-range, heavy-caliber shotguns that fired silver-salted grapeshot, a weapon

In front of them was blocked by iron protruding forward and sharp edges. The flash on the tip of the rifle reflected, index finger ready to pull the trigger in place. The person's breath seemed warm spread in front of his face which was covered by a thick white mask, with fuschia red eyes behind the ski goggles he was wearing. His sharp gaze directed his aim forward. The possessed mana flows throughout the rifle centered around the bullet that is still lodged in place. He pulled the trigger and the bullet shot out followed by Mana rapidly following. The bullet broke the iron barriers in front of Altair and Adir. They both felt that there was something strange about the attack. With a single

I wanted to make sure they were watching, that they could see Mitchelle's triumph clearly. I spotted them toward the back of the room, Jason's face was tight with barely concealed resentment, Chloe stood rigidly beside him with an odd expression I couldn't quite read. Movement caught my eye. Something on the rooftop of the tall building opposite, visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. A figure dressed in black, face obscured by a mask. Positioning a rifle. Time seemed to slow down as my brain processed what I was seeing. The masked figure adjusted their stance, as the gun barrel glinted in the afternoon sunlight, it angled downward toward the stage.

“If Carter’s your boss, then who’s the masked man? Carter can’t be him.” The blue boot exhaled sharply. “The masked man is a sniper from Russia. He’s on the roof right now.” The Blue Boot continued, voice dropping lower. “Carter has him stationed across the street, rifle aimed. The moment you step outside… you’re dead.” Clayton hummed. “Noted.” The man sneered. “Now lower your gun. Let me dispose of her, and we’re even.” “Are you sure we are even?” Clayton asked.

With one long step, I began to dash out of Lilith’s Flower Garden and through the busy streets of Metropolitan City, keeping my scanner’s locked-in focus function on the shadow of the culprit running from the rooftop of the Metro Hospital to another rooftop. “You potato!” I cursed as the culprit disappeared from my view. Surely, the sniper was a man enshrouded in black. He was wearing a thick mask, his neckline was all covered, not even a strand of his hair could be seen from that tight cap on his head, gloves were on his hands and his shirt was long-sleeved. Even if my locked-in focus could capture his image in high-definition, I wouldn’t be able to identify him. All I knew was that he had

They called me I don't know if ill run, but I'm strong I can manage to beat them, but the problem is that they are 3 and I'm all alone. I'm ready to run when one of the gangsters throw an empty can of beer exactly to my head " I'm sorry I'm not looking for trouble" I apologized, I'm ready to walk when one of them pulled my collar and throw me on the ground "I told you I'm not here to mess with you guys!" I said calmly, I'm controlling myself now, I don't want to fight them back I was about to stand up when the man wearing a mask, I guess the leader of this shit suddenly punched me on my face, he messed with my face

It felt like acid. I started coughing violently. My vision blurred into a watery mess. "They are moving up!" Julian fired blindly into the smoke. We couldn't see them, but we could hear their heavy boots on the concrete. They had gas masks. They had the advantage. A figure loomed out of the white fog right in front of me. He wore a black tactical mask that made him look like an insect. He raised his rifle. I froze. Bang. Julian appeared out of nowhere. He tackled the man from the side. They hit the floor in a tangle of limbs and gear.

"I know." Suddenly, a red laser dot appeared on the wall behind them, dancing in a frantic, impatient pattern. Adrian went rigid, his hand flying to his hip, but he didn’t draw the blade. He turned his head slowly. A figure emerged from the shadows of a massive support pillar, holding a sleek, custom-built rifle. The man wore a heavy, oil-stained duster, his face obscured by a digital mask that hummed with a low, blue light. "You’re late," the stranger said, his voice modulated to a flat, synthetic monotone. "And your friend smells like he’s already halfway to the afterlife."

Idris is losing this war before it even starts. "Mother, wait!" Zuberi suddenly shouts, dashing over to the side table. He grabs my leather battle mask—the scarred, freckled leather piece I use to conceal my true identity from the high clans—and thrusts it toward me. "Your mask! You can't leave the villa without your mask!" I frown, taking the hardened leather mask from his hands. "Zuberi, you've hated this mask since the day I brought you back from the badlands. Why are you suddenly desperate for me to wear it?"

They were fully masked, their identities shielded by the sleek, silver-and-black alloy of the LNI tactical helmets. Xander’s mask was a masterpiece of lupine aggression, the visor glowing with a steady, predatory gold. Beside him, Evangeline’s mask was a streamlined feline curve, the sapphire light of her eyes pulsing through the narrow slits like a heartbeat. The silence in the room was absolute until Xander stepped forward. His voice, deepened and modulated by the suit’s internal tech, rolled out across the world like a thunderclap.