In Morpheus Arms Novels & Stories

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.

He was a monster, and she was a fool for leaving René for this heartless creature. "Very well, you've cleaned them more than enough. Perfect." He then grabbed her by the hair and ordered his men to bring Deborah's accomplices. "Make them kneel in front of me." The men were forced to do as he asked. Sergio, with all the malice in the world, shot each one of them with a single bullet right in the center of their foreheads. He couldn't waste the ammunition he had. The suppressor on his gun prevented the shots from being heard by the neighbors. No one could imagine what was happening in that house.

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.

The scene then shifts once more back to the front lawn and Jake still didn't have any arms, Pete examined the sorry state of Jake's body and he didn't look pleased with what happened. “What happened Jake was an old man, and children too much for you to handle.” Pete snapped “No sir it was just that there was a warrior there, she was able to cut off my arms when I was reloading my gun.” Jake voice was blank and monotone “Well we can't have that now can we?” Pete cuts open his wrist and lets the blood flow into Jake's mouth. Soon muscles, bone, and blood start to sprout out of his arm sockets and their places are new arms, made of flesh and bones.

The biggest ship in the armada, the Morozko’s ship ripped through any defences the Cobalt Army had with ease. Morozko commanded the ocean itself with a special pole shaped device he stole from the treasury at one point in his life. Of course, the area he could control was still limited, otherwise he could destroy the kingdom. The soldiers that were able to confront him directly were met with their demise as his strength was far superior. His skin was more durable than armour and his punch was greater than a cannon. The crew on his ship was also formidable.

They required protection from harm due to their essential role in a mech's offense, but they also had to retain their nimbleness in order to operate their weapons as smoothly as real human arms. Regarding the use of arms, mech designers generally chose from three different options. One was to keep the arms articulated like a human's, letting the mech depend on external weapons like pistols and rifles. Great importance is placed on mimicking the arms to its biological equivalent, sometimes achieving a synchronization of up to 99%. This allowed marksmen to fire their weapons as accurately as they could in real life without depending on aim assist and other guided aids, which provides a remarka

"Sure!" Morpheus readily agreed. After a moment of being stunned, he chuckled to himself, wondering if he had agreed too quickly. Persephone pressed her lips together, pushing the stray strands of hair away from her forehead. Meanwhile, Morpheus hastily rushed into his room, squatted in front of a cabinet in the corner, and rummaged through it for a while. Being alone for so long, he realized he didn't have anything presentable to give her as a memento. There were either old boxing gloves or sportswear. On the balcony lay dumbbells and punching bags. He discovered that besides these, he had nothing else to offer.

Her right breast is gone; she was chained and she is crying in pain. “Give me that!” She screamed but the scary beast appeared again from above. This time he has big, black wings that are shaped like bat wings and he is holding a metal stick that is bigger than the normal human arm. “No please… no!” Begged by the naked woman who is trying to grab my blanket.