Novel & Cerita Jagged Ghost Blade

The version of Sarah in the flight suit had manifested a shimmering, obsidian blade, and she was lunging at Kazimir with a robotic, Non-Linear-Motion. "Stay back from the monolith!" Kazimir roared, parrying the ghost’s strike. Each time his Glitch-Blade met the ghost’s weapon, a shower of purple sparks erupted, and a scream echoed through the minds of everyone present. "I can't hold the tether much longer!" Jun screamed. He was kneeling at Elara’s feet, his hands glowing with a blinding white light as he strained to maintain the Neural-Loom. "The ghosts are trying to eat the connection! They want to follow her in!"

Rage exploded inside me, over my dead body! A movement flashed from the corner of my vision; because I was distracted, I caught the move late; a hidden assassin emerged from the shadows. The blade in his hand glowed silver to stab me. I twisted around, but I was not fast enough. Pain exploded through my side. The silver blade plunged beneath my ribs, my roar shook the valley, and the assassin smiled. He didn’t look like a part of the Forgotten.

"Elle, you need to see this.” Ghost calls out. I push the knife a little harder into the Collector’s shoulder before jumping to my feet. I give him one last look before turning my back on him. His fingers have stopped twitching; even if I take the knife out, the damage is most likely permanent, and he’s no threat to me anymore. I see Ghost has walked behind the counter; he has a computer in front of him and the glow of the screen is lighting him up, making him look like some kind of otherworldly ghost. I kind of get the name but it seems more like a punishment to me, like his parents judged him on how he looked when he was born and decided to brand him with the name forever.

The blade tilted toward Zara. I stepped in front of her without thinking. “Don’t,” I snarled. Voss’s lips curved. “Fascinating. It recognizes hierarchy already.” The blade lunged. It didn’t aim for my heart. It went for my bond. Pain exploded through me, white, searing, intimate. The blade skimmed my chest, carving a sigil into my skin that burned straight through flesh and into spirit. I hit the floor hard, the world shattering into sparks and echoes.

I'm living normal. I take a closer look at the things in my room. My bookshelf is filled with volumes of Sigmund Freud, Carl Jung, several books on the human anatomy and a couple of murder mystery novels. A collection of true crime documentaries, CSI box collections and my prize Halloween dvds. On my walls in between my posters of Mike Meyers and Freddie Kruger, much to my mother's distaste, are various katanas which I've collected over the years. "Yeah. Very normal, Skylar." I say out loud, rolling my eyes.

The witches closed in, their laughter echoing like a chorus of nightmares. Something inside Aqua snapped. A surge of dark energy, unfamiliar and terrifying, welled up within her. She felt her pendant grow hot against her skin, the clear crystal turning black as smoke. The air around her crackled with raw power as she turned back towards the attackers, her fear morphing into a blinding rage.

I walked past a gauntlet that crackled with electricity. Then, I stopped. In the back of the room, almost hidden behind a display of ceremonial daggers, was a simple, vertical case. Inside was a sword. It wasn't gold. It wasn't diamond. It was made of a pale, translucent metal that looked like frozen smoke. The hilt was wrapped in gray leather, worn smooth by use. It didn't hum. It didn't glow. It just sat there, looking dangerously quiet. "Ah," Kaelen said, coming up beside me. "The Ghostblade. Or, as the Old Poets called it, Silentium."

She drew a physical blade—a heavy, carbon-steel machete—and charged. The fight was visceral, brutal, and slow. There was no "Sovereign Protocol" to predict the enemy’s movements. It was blade against bayonet, steam against steel. The Grey Guard engaged the Null-soldiers in the narrow corridors, the sound of clashing metal and hissing steam filling the bunker. Jade moved like a shadow, her movements fueled by a mother’s desperation. She bypassed the main fray, sliding through a ventilation duct that smelled of grease and ozone.

She’s enjoying this testosterone overload too much. Ghost got Blade in a standing rear choke. Being two inches smaller than me, Blade dangled from Ghost’s arms like a toddler. Being half dumb like his boss and a half too small against Ghost, he relied on his speed. Blade made eye contact with me, winking, his fingers digging into Ghost’s arms. I shook my head, praying that he acts as the bigger person, figuratively. But no, he likes proving size doesn’t matter in a fight. “Fucking hell,” I whispered as Blade elbowed Ghost, twisting the wrist choking him, winding his body until he had Ghost’s arms forward. He smiled at me triumphantly, throwing his legs over Ghost’s mammoth frame trapped betw