In Morpheus Arms Novels & Stories

is what the organization called him because of the number of impossible missions he has accomplished. When he finished bathing and getting dressed, he went to his secret armory. It was a bedroom inside his bedroom, it was inside the wardrobe hidden here a safe the size of a bedroom. In this room of his are all kinds of guns, blades, and other improvisations that he uses for his missions. In the middle of the armor, there is a large table, there are compartments and in each compartment has explosives like frag grenades, flash bang, and smoke grenades. There are also some different types of blades that he use. On the right side of the armory, there are the rifles M16, M4, AK47, AK74, Berreta A

"We can perform more or less the same thing to get any of your other people if they try to help them. I want to caution you to give some serious consideration to your response before I ask the following question because if you answer it incorrectly, the next bullet will be in your head." Morpheus spoke such defiant words to the man while wearing an angry expression on his face. At the same time, he placed the gun on the man's forehead. "Who is sending you, and what is it exactly that you all stand for?" Morpheus questioned while maintaining his aim with the rifle still pointing at the man's skull. Morpheus gave the man a strong hit to the shoulder with the bottom of the gun since he was taki

A massive, soundproofed stateroom with mahogany paneling, a ceiling that mimicked a starry night sky, and a floor-to-ceiling panoramic window that looked out into the crushing blackness of the ocean depths. Underwater, Jack’s combat instincts whispered. Submersible mode. He tried to swing his legs out of bed, but a sudden, searing weight on his right side stopped him. He looked down. His right arm—the Cursed Arm—was no longer wrapped in Ben’s makeshift dirty bandages. It was encased in a sleek, transparent sleeve of medical-grade polymer. Inside the sleeve, the arm looked terrifying. The skin was entirely jet black, like obsidian, but beneath the surface, veins pulsed with a slow, rhythmic v

It glances off his chest with a hard thump. Instead of falling over, he pauses, then looks at me with murder in his eyes. Ares is in awful shape, but his anger is beyond feeling mortal pain. I try to secure my sword with both hands, but it’s impossible. My bad arm feels numb, but not numb like I would expect it to with a severe shoulder injury. I look down at my arm. Black veins are spreading down to my fingers. I crane my neck to see my shoulder. The edges of the wound are black and peeling away from my body.

He's so close I can smell his shampoo, see the color in his lips. I step closer, reaching out to him. It's like I'm being propelled by a force greater than myself. His fingers wind around mine, and it's a perfect fit. Like we've been holding hands this whole time. All these days. All these years. "We will have to fight them, though." His arms wrap around me, and he pulls me against his chest. "It's only a matter of time before we have to face them." "Who?" "The Silver Hunters." His fingers run through my hair. “They’ve attacked Hawthorn before.”

My eyes widened in shock as I raised my head up to catch his stare, his haircut made me widen my mouth a bit, it looked so good that I had to fight the urge to run my hands through it. The army coloured short he was wearing revealed his hairy legs, while the black top emphasized his abs, like is he working out? I swallowed gulps of spits as I eyed his large and powerful arms, the muscles kept popping in and out the way he flexed and gesticulated. Gosh! he smelt like raspberries. "Just come in" I said pulling him in, and shutting the door quietly. "You should be preparing for tomorrow's event" I scolded as we both sat on my bed.

Douglas held me tighter as we rushed to Ross's side. He had been stabbed by Laurel, then hit by the car. Blood was everywhere. Ross couldn't speak. His eyes were filled with affection as he looked at me. He tried to reach for me, but his hand fell limply. I didn't know what to do. I called his name, and Douglas began performing first aid, having learned some basic emergency skills during his travels.

I want him like I have never wanted any man. My fingers trace the contours of his chiseled chest. His arms are powerful, with bulging biceps that flex with each movement. His chest is a sculpted masterpiece, with defined pecs and a chiseled six-pack that ripples beneath his skin like waves on a lake. His shoulders are broad and strong, framing a torso that tapers to a lean, athletic waist. His skin is a warm, golden brown, kissed by the sun and radiant with a subtle sheen of sweat.

(Bar) The Leg and Arm before me was the prototype Bob and Bar have finished, just like what Bar said the reasons why they have been successful in producing the limbs was due to the knowledge I present to them about the research on artificial limbs back on earth. I can see Bob careful and beautiful craftsmanship on the limbs, on the outside the limbs made to look like a sleek designed armor, and on the inside, every fiber and metal was made to replicate a muscle and bones. Right at the joints and the metallic bones, there's multiple traces of magical enchantments and intricate scribbles. Instead of using a battery, Bar use a Monster core as a power supply. "As long as it can function normally

Murdok roared as his claw clad hand slowly penetrated the barrier. Rori tried to peek out from her hiding spot, but Mason shoved her back to the floor, “stay here Rori, we won't let him hurt you anymore!” Mason’s entire arm was plated with shining silver scales and his hands no longer looked human, they had thick full webbing in between his digits and instead of fingers, his hands had once again morphed into long, thin, needlelike talons and as Mason raised his arm above his head he slashed down over the top of Murdok’s chest, causing the large half shifted dragon to roar in anger and push further against the barrier.