Life Vest Onyx Novels & Stories

“Ooh, fancy! Can I wear explosives?” “No,” Ace and Esther said in unison. I stood, my chair scraping. “I’ll need a dress. Something that screams ‘shoot me, I’m vulnerable.’” Ace’s jaw twitched. “Or something bulletproof.” “Bulletproof itchy,” Sky offered. “Trust me.” Esther sighed. “I’ll handle the wardrobe. You handle not dying.” --- The dress was black, backless, and lined with Kevlar. Valerie zipped me up, her reflection smirking in the mirror. “If you die, can I have your shoes?”

– Lang penthouse The stylist laid out the tux on the velvet chaise: midnight blue, blood-proof lining, custom-tailored to hide the ceramic blade in the lapel. I slipped the drive into a titanium case, chained it to my wrist with a lock only I could open. The gala was black-tie. It was also a kill box.

After registering, Gemma received a vest with a pentagon-shaped light on the chest. She put on the vest, then tied her hair with a rubber band that she carried around her wrist. Nero handed her a black laser gun with an arm-length rope. He attached the hook at the end of the rope to the hook on the front of Gemma’s vest.

c The policemen were bloodied, overwhelmed and exhausted as all their bullets bounced off the KWE vest [these vests were made from Black iron ore and Milthril ore. Light as a feather but with infinite durability. Vulnerable only to lightning and laser beams]. I felt no pity for the policemen, rather my rage kept on building as the words Lawrence spoke echoed in my head.

Funny, that. “Boat’s pulling him in,” someone calls from down below. All heads turn to the cliff. The divers resurface. A figure is being hauled onto the deck of the Coast Guard vessel — wet, lifeless, tangled in black leather and kelp. His body slumps forward with the weight of death. Helmet still on, but cracked and broken. The moment is cemented by the radio on Shoestring’s shoulder. It crackles, then hisses.

Inside the VIP dressing room, Liora stood staring at her reflection in the large mirror. She wore a sapphire blue haute couture gown with an open back, adorned with thousands of micro-crystals. On her wrist, a silver bracelet coiled, looking like ordinary jewelry, but it was actually a portable terminal to access the core system of "New Era". The door opened, and Mavric stepped in. He wore a custom-made black tuxedo designed to hide a bulletproof vest underneath. The scar on his forehead from yesterday's warehouse explosion still left a reddish mark, adding a dangerous edge to his appearance.

I announce as Onyx returns it to the box. Bob emerges from the back with a large bag. “Would you care to see your dress?” He asks as he hangs it on a hook behind me. “My dress?” “For the Luna party,” Onyx confirms. “Oh, yes, please.” I smile happily as I approach the garment bag. “Here you are.” I can feel the pride radiating through him as he unzips the dress and holds it up for me to see. “Oh, you have outdone yourselves.” I gasp. The dress is green velvet with black pearls. “The pearls will sit atop your pregnant belly. We anticipated growth between when we measured you, and it looks like it will fit you well.” Bob offers. “It is perfect. Thank you so much.” Touching the fabric brings me

Julian reached into a crate and pulled out a lightweight, titanium-weave Kevlar vest. He stepped directly into her space. Maya’s breath hitched as he slid the vest over her shoulders. His massive hands were completely steady as he secured the heavy velcro straps across her ribs and waist, his knuckles brushing deliberately against her sides. "It's heavy," Maya whispered, her honey-brown eyes locked onto his chest.

"They’re safe. Everyone is safe." She looked out the small porthole at the horizon. The sun was beginning to rise, a pale, cold sliver of light. She was the Empress of the Phoenix, the savior of ten thousand lives, and the loneliest woman on Earth. But then, a sound. A rhythmic, heavy thumping. A Caspian Group heavy-lift helicopter descended through the clouds, its searchlights scanning the water. And trailing behind it, emerging from the depths fifty yards away, was a second, smaller emergency buoy—a high-pressure "life-bead" used only by deep-sea divers.

Was it the man who had turned to stone to save her? She reached the shape and pulled it from the water. It wasn't Jinyan. It was his tactical vest—the heavy, lead-lined armor he had worn into the deep. It was torn open, the front plate shattered as if something had exploded from the inside out. There was no body. No stone. No man. Inside the pocket of the vest, Panni felt something hard. She reached in and pulled out the bioluminescent tablet Thorne had used to project the Archive. The screen was cracked, the casing dented, but as she touched it, the glass flickered to life.