Homestuck Weapon Novels & Stories

The warmth of his body was immediately missed, but the danger of the moment jolted me back to reality. He lent me a hand and assisted me to my feet. Louis had a large weapon in his hand. It looked nothing like a rifle, more like a sleek hybrid between a taser and a crossbow. The barrel was short and wide, and a light blue energy pulsed like veins running through its body. Its design was oddly familiar. “What the hell is that?” I asked, more curious than surprised at what kind of weapon could neutralize a shifting dragon.

The shoddy weapon is associated with the head of one of the animals, sending it reeling back with a yell of torment. Be that as it may, for each one I figured out how to strike down, two more had their spot. I could feel my solidarity melting away, the silver in the bolt wound draining my power. All things considered, I wouldn't surrender, driven by a wild need to safeguard my loved ones. As I raised the poker for another swing, an unexpected, burning aggravation shot through my side, and I panted, my hold releasing. I looked down to see a mauled hand installed in my tissue, the animal's eyes igniting with malignancy.

The night was young, and I had fifty different ways to make sure these men regretted ever being born. "Just getting ready to play," I said. I reached for the weapon resting on the table. It wasn't something you could just buy, I had spent months in my lab building it, piece by piece. It was an electronic bow, sleek and matte black, looking more like a piece of high-tech surgical equipment than a weapon. It was light as a feather but strong enough to put a hole through a brick wall. I picked up one of the arrows. I had designed these myself, too. They weren't just sharp sticks, they were smart.

Lexi whispered as those rich chocolate eyes bored into me, but I just grinned as we all turned our attention to the now fully open gate in front of him. "Either way, you have to admit that it's a damn good feeling to know that's on our side, but at the same time, think about it. That weapon honestly makes the most sense for him. Not only are those braces straight metal, but the hilts of his swords aren't wrapped with leather or anything either, they're both pure crafted metal. To that point, all of his weaponry is. It's all conductive, and the chains give him extra reach while still connecting everything to his hands." I whispered, quickly working through it. It was honestly genius for him.

Like an old friend who had never let me down. “Thank you,” I said. He grunted, already cleaning his own weapon—a battered but well-loved AK-105 with a shortened barrel and suppressor screwed on. I strapped the thigh rig on under the table, adjusted the tension, slid the knife home. The Glock went into the holster at my right hip. For a moment the only sound was the click of magazines and the soft rasp of a cleaning rod. Then I asked the question that had been burning in my throat since the café.

I nodded coldly, slightly angry at Señor Ramirez for not having told us everything from the very beginning. “And this thing, I’m holding here, it’s a fire blaster. A real weapon this is, it can cause explosions equivalent to a bomb. We can wipe out this whole place with this fire blaster.” “Exactly how do we plan on getting out of here?” Zak asked. “I came in by a helicopter. I parked it a few hundred metres away from the warehouse behind the forest area. That’s how we’ll leave here,” Señor Ramirez replied determinedly. “Here are some weapons I brought with me. Rachel, I got another bow and arrow for you. Zak, I got you an iron sleeve that injects poison every time you punch someone. One pun

“The elders want a test of intelligence? Strategy? Let’s give them something they’ve never seen.” She crouched beside me, watching as I adjusted the springs on a compact, hand-crafted weapon—a modified pressure-release blade small enough to hide in a boot. “You’re building weapons now?” “No,” I said, turning the bolt with practiced fingers. “I’m building advantages.” Mila gave a low whistle. “You’re more dangerous than you look.” “That’s the point.”

I was growing more frustrated by the second. Half the rooms were empty while the other half held crates upon crates of weapons, ones I’d never even seen before. In the one room we entered, I picked up a sleek, black item. It was heavier than I expected, a metal reinforced stick. There was a hole at the end of the metal tube that smelled sharp, metallic, and smokey. I held it up to Xander. “What the fuck is this?” His eyes went wide when he laid them on the metal contraption in my hand. He took a slow step toward me and carefully took it from my hand.

No one should be coming through that door. I reached under my bed and pulled out the hunting knife Caleb gave me for my seventeenth birthday. Silver blade, custom grip, balanced for throwing or close combat. He said every warrior needed a weapon that didn't depend on claws or fangs. I never went to bed without it within reach. I moved to my bedroom door and pressed my ear against it. Footsteps. Heavy but slow. One person. They were moving through the kitchen toward the hallway. Toward the stairs. My phone buzzed. Theo again.

My fingers were itching to pull the trigger. So I did. But still, I didn’t shoot to kill. The bullet grazed his arm leaving a long line of blood. He winced, clutching at it, then grinned at me. The fucking bastard must be compromised, he must be working for someome. My bullet grazed his arm and I ducked and rolled, expecting him to fire back. He didn't. And not only did Reed trigger-happy Campbell not shoot at me, he turned and ran out of the room clutching his bleeding arm.