Inferno Squadron Novels & Stories

his voice jerked me back to reality. "hmm can I get your order"I said trying to sound confident, his voice sent me to planet zecury,I don't even know if it exists. "Two pot pies and one smoothie" he said back, with his eyes fixed on me. For the first time I saw genuine admiration and not the usual look of lust I was used to.

I'm trying to confirm this again. "Oh, shit... You're so annoying, dude." Gael chuckled in annoyance when Ned suddenly put his arm around her shoulder. Ned Cavend and Rees Cavend. They are the two Inferno front-liners on the neutral side. Yeah, I know that because it looks like their robes don't have Alpha or Omega engravings on them. They are among the highest demons. They are the guardians of the Inferno, and they will only appear when there is a pressing problem. But why did they appear here now? ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Despite all his efforts, he found such a thing was inevitable. … As night fell, Perry paced restlessly at home. He kept looking at the old Noviea phone on the table. Finally, the phone rang, and he quickly answered. "Perry, we've verified your capital. Inferno Clan has decided to take on the mission. This will be a fight to the death!" The call ended, and Perry burst into maniacal laughter. "They've accepted my request! Inferno Clan accepted it! Son, your father can finally avenge you!"

A familiar was hovering in the air, and on the sea, military ships were closing in on us from all directions, cars surrounding the shores. "Fucking bastard." Nathan cursed, and in a second, I was pulled towards Cage and something cold was corked and rested on my temple. A fully loaded revolving gun.

Circles, arrows, notes in Dante’s hand. Her eyes landed on a file. Unknown Syndicate – Codename Inferno. Pages detailed intercepted messages, coded shipments, and a rising group that struck with precision. They weren’t a rival family, not in the traditional sense. They were something newer. Sharper. An organization that thrived in the chaos of modern warfare—mercenaries, hackers, assassins. A network without a face. The Inferno. And though no one said it outright, Amara felt it in her bones: this was their true enemy. The one pulling strings behind every betrayal, every riot, every collapse.

Inferno’s voice rolled out, deep and layered, like crackling embers under a storm: “Listen well, Haven of Shadows. A storm is coming, one far greater than these scouts.” The shadows trembled. Zenith felt, rather than saw, her pack draw closer to her, instinctively seeking their Luna’s calm energy. She let her healing aura rest over them like a blanket, soft, steadying, without conscious effort. Inferno continued, sweeping his blazing gaze across every face: “Prepare your grounds. Prepare your hearts. Prepare your home.”

A flock of flamingos, the Inferno Order's battle mounts, descended from above. Atop these birds rode the elite warriors of the Inferno Order, the Fire Guards. Among them, Egan led a hundred men. As for the other hundred thousand troops, they had been stationed elsewhere. "Egan, tone it down. You're scaring my little one," Micah complained, patting the white crane beneath him to soothe it.

"Package is alive. Priority Alpha." Another pause. Longer this time. Then Winters spoke, the words sending a chill down Leo’s spine despite their practicality: **<< The Aerie. Rossi’s nest. Heavily fortified. Air defense. Ground sensors. Mercenary core: ‘Viper Squad’. Ex-Spetsnaz. Nasty. >>** A beat. **<< Extraction window: 36 hours. Prep point: Grid Echo-Seven. Bring your own guns. And Finch? >>** The voice turned even colder. **<< This clears the ledger. All of it. >>**

Before Dante could even take a breath, the deafening roar of three massive V8 engines violently shattered the quiet of the docks. Blinding, high beam headlights cut flawlessly through the dense fog. Three matte black, heavily armored SUVs violently mounted the concrete pier, completely blocking the only exit. The heavy doors swung open. Silas and the ghost squad poured out like living shadows, their suppressed tactical rifles instantly raising to their shoulders. A dozen bright red laser sights painted flawless, lethal dots directly onto Dante's chest and forehead. But it was the man who stepped out of the lead vehicle that made Dante's blood run completely cold.

CHAPTER 55: THE NORTH SPIRE DROP The Syndicate "Ghost-Skiff" felt less like a vehicle and more like a coffin wrapped in jet engines. It was a stripped-back, aerodynamic needle of matte-black carbon fiber, built for one thing only: high-speed infiltration of the Spire’s restricted airspace. I sat in the cockpit, the harness cutting into my shoulders, my silver-mercury wings folded so tightly against my spine they felt like a second, cold skeleton.