Invincible Blue Suit Comic Novels & Stories

"Haha. Dean, I, Blue, am not someone you can play with at will. Your little tricks aren't enough for me." Dean said with interest, "Oh, what do you want?" Mr. Blue said with a grim face, "I don't care where your evidence comes from, but you got everyone involved in the fight between you. You're making a fool of yourself. I have been in the Davis Company for many years. A brat like you can't move me easily."

It turned out that countless experts were arriving. A blue flame appeared, and a strange blue bird that was thousands of meters long flew across the sky. There were hundreds of people standing on the back of the bird. They were all wearing blue armor, holding long spears, like an army. Under the sunshine, the tips of the icy spears faintly flashed with blue strange glints, with a highly toxic, dreadful aura. This was an extremely powerful force. The pressure brought by hundreds of spear-holding warriors was irresistible.

Natasha gasped even louder as she stared at the picture of the Blue Streak standing in the background with Carter on one side, her grandfather on the other and her mother in the middle. "Mom?" her voice was barely a squeak. She moved her eyes from her mother to the man in the background. The Blue Streak. He was in his distinctive blue suit and his mask was off, allowing Natasha to look into his face and it was undoubtedly him. He was smiling. It was him. "My dad was the Blue Streak..." Concerned and totally bewildered, Lucas asked Sally if she could give them a minute. Natasha had walked out of the facility and was standing next to the railings at the entrance where Lucas found her.

Instead of blood, a cloud of white gas erupted from the suit, followed by a scream that was cut short as Julian’s shadow-veins surged into the breach. ​The other three guards opened fire. ​Rings of blue, sonic energy tore through the air, aimed directly at my chest. I didn't hide. I didn't scream. I felt the coldness in my wrist explode into a white-hot spark. I threw my hand out, my fingers splayed, and the black ink on my arm didn't just glow—it detached.