Iron Man Bleeding Edge Armor の小説・ストーリー

he began, “there seems to be something missing from this outfit.” My eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean by that?” A second later, something cold and metallic contacted my skin. He lifted my hair carefully and deftly clipped it at the nape of my neck. He spun me back around so that I was face to face with him, his eyes now trained on the top of my chest. “Perfect.” I looked down and gasped at the sight of the red teardrop rhodium pendant necklace. “It’s…beautiful. But how did you know that I’d be wearing red tonight?” I asked him in awe.

It had turned out Azelie and Nyoka had gotten into a huge fight when they hit twenty, and had never spoken to each other again nor seen each other. She hadn't had the chance to fully stab me, maybe she was too riled up, maybe a small part of her felt bad for trying to kill a five year old, maybe there was a different reason. But she had broken skin, and that area where the blade cut into my flesh became permanently scarred. Typically wolves could heal so well and so fast we didn't scar. But such was the power of wolfsbane. From that point on I avoided ever taking my shirt off around other people besides my immediate family. Even when shifting. If I did take my shirt off while shifting, I mad

My reality was the cold, hard fact of our fracture. It happened in the space between one chime of the crystal leaves and the next. A figure detached itself from the dappled shadow of a large, multifaceted tree. It wasn't a creature of the Unwritten Realms, not a narrative entity or a conceptual predator. It was humanoid, clad in armor that seemed to drink the light, a matte black that offered no reflection. Its face was hidden by a smooth, featureless helm. In its hand, it held a blade that was not metal, but a shard of absolute nothingness—a fragment of the same void I had wielded in the canyon.

"Caaaathyyyy!" Chase pushed Ted's hands away from his neck and looked at them. Sure enough, Ted's claws had dug into his neck and now his blood coated those wicked-looking claws. But strangely enough, the blood wasn't dripping to the floor instead it flowed down the claws and was absorbed into Ted's flesh. The more blood his skin soaked the more the armor around Ted's arms dissolved until there was nothing left but human flesh. Even his superhuman powers slowly seeped out of his body leaving him an empty shell of man, flesh and blood.

But they were no longer just wolves. Each warrior was clad in a suit of "Qi-Fiber" armor, a combination of the ship's advanced carbon-nanotubes and Scarlett’s protective talismans. Their claws were tipped with spirit-conductive silver, and their eyes were fitted with tactical HUDs that allowed them to "see" the Qi-flow of their enemies.

The engine began to make a musical sound. The vehicle began to change. The black armor melted away. It was replaced by glass and silver leaves. It was not a tank anymore. It was a giant moving oxygen machine. The virus it is rewriting the metal Aris gasped. It is turning the war machines into machines that save lives. The masked man was very angry. He pulled a knife from his belt. It was a sharp blade. He lunged at Maya. He moved fast because he had computer chips in his body. Maya raised her silver arm to block him. The blade cut into her arm. She did not feel pain. She felt a spark of electricity. She grabbed the mans wrist.

Damn it, Alpha Garson infected his own soldiers with parasite mutations, too! One elite commander leaps down and lands directly in front of me. His armor is drenched in black blood, his face pale with swollen veins bulging along his neck. Thick black spider veins spread across his face.

"Six rogues, silver ammunition, coordinated assault pattern. This is just the opening move." I was already reaching for the tactical gear he'd brought earlier—lightweight body armor, silver-resistant mesh, weapons that could level the playing field against an enemy that had come prepared for war. But when I tried to lift the armor over my head, my back screamed in protest and my arms refused to cooperate properly. *Fuck.* The silver extraction site was still tender, the muscles around it stiff and uncooperative. Dr. Martinez had warned me about limited mobility for at least another week, but I'd assumed adrenaline would compensate for whatever physical limitations remained.

At his side was a scythe, its curved edge wicked sharp. As stunning as Amora and Nyssa were, they were breathtaking when covered in armor. Amora’s was rose gold, the same pink hue as her cheeks, while Nyssa’s resembled a pearl, the material almost iridescent. The wolves that had joined us for the fight watched in awe as I dropped my glamour, my clothes morphing into armor a shimmering silver. While I wasn’t very skilled at using the thing, a sword hung at my hip. My skin was lit with an inner glow that turned my hair into a mess of writhing blue flames. I could feel my power pulsing within my eyes, illuminating the dark for all to see.

I can be a handful, but only because I can take care of myself and don’t need babysitters. I do feel bad for them though, hence why I like to give them breaks – which they refuse to take. Not only are these two stuck standing guard in front of whatever room I’m in, but they have to do it covered head to toe in armour. Looks amazing, but I wouldn’t want to wear it. The armour is made from graphene, it’s flexible and elastic while being strong and lightweight. The beauty of this particular armour is that it’s been imbued with makkari magic. The armour is sentient, to a degree. It can sense the species of the attacking enemy and alter itself accordingly. So, if say a sirna was attacking them, t