Iron Man Bleeding Edge Armor Novels & Stories

"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.

"They only had one man to fight against their commander." Dr. Evans expressed disbelief by repeating his question after he began to shine a diagnostic light into Dante's unfocused golden eyes. "His ribs are completely pulverized. The healing factor struggles to repair the bone because his body suffered extreme blunt-force damage." Dante rasped Moon-steel is useless while his voice sounded like a painful groan. He reached out blindly until his bloody fingers found my hand. He gripped it with terrifying desperation. Maya... the sword bounced right off him. He had armor... made of solid bone, growing right out of his skin.

Like I always do. The dream still clings to me, heavy and cold: Drake tied to a chair in a dark room. Blood on his face. Bruises blooming across his skin. A hooded man standing in front of him, not touching him, but doing something worse. Chanting. Words I didn’t understand. A glow rising from Drake’s skin. His back arching. His scream ripping through the room.

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

And I slowly shifted back to my human form to feel less pain as it had been clasping me tighter and tighter. It’s silver. F*ck them! I winced when I felt my fresh wounds were bleeding, and I tried to slip out the chains, but I couldn't as it got tighter with every move I made. Thankfully, I had always been wearing this gold armor Ali had given me. It somehow lessened the injury I got from these stupid silver chains.

I collapsed in the street with my clothes in disarray. Vanessa Coleman looked at me with eyes full of aching concern and draped a jacket over me. "Don't talk about it," she comforted me. "Let's go home first." The eyes of neighbors and acquaintances cut into me like knives. I shuddered all over and finally believed that I really had been reborn. In my previous life, I had been kidnapped for no clear reason. Twenty-four hours later, I was dumped outside my own home.

Silent: I watch with crossed arms as the infamous Dr. Kolohe Cho uses her technological power to complete the suit of armor. “The Iron Fist armor is nearly ready,” Dr. Cho says while looking at a metal claw. Her eyes and head glowing a blueish-green color, the claw starts to turn by itself. It grabs a massive iron hand and screws it into the wrist of the armor. Dr. Cho thanks the claw machine while it spins around.

​I rounded the corner into the dining room, my rifle leveled. ​Standing in the center of the room, surrounded by shards of glass that shimmered like diamonds in the red light, was a man. He was tall, thin, and dressed in a suit of matte-gray liquid armor that seemed to absorb the light around him. He wasn't holding a gun. He was holding a pair of curved, mono-molecular wire-blades that hummed with a low, lethal vibration. ​But it was his eyes that froze the blood in my veins. They were the same matte silver as Kai’s.

It wasn't a drone. It was a man. Dante Thorne stood at the edge of the courtyard, his "Void-Titan" armor completely gone, his body covered in the gray ash of the unmade world. He didn't have his wings, and his red eye was gone—but in his right hand, he held a massive, jagged piece of the Vane-Absolute’s steering column. A piece of rusted iron from the old world. He didn't look at my father. He didn't look at the towers. His grey eye locked onto me, and for the first time in this reset reality, a slow, dangerous smile spread across his face.