Maze Runner Beetle Blade Novels & Stories

Sweat dripped from his brow, his heart pounding in his chest as he navigated the deadly gauntlet. Emerging from the corridor, he faced the final challenge: a maze of swinging axes and rotating blades. The axes were massive, each swing accompanied by a bone-chilling whoosh. The rotating blades moved in erratic patterns, their edges catching the light in deadly flashes. Ty's breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles burning with fatigue, but he pushed on, his determination unyielding.

A pulse of energy exploded outward, forcing the beast back. Rael didn’t hesitate. He surged forward, the blade feeling weightless in his grip as he slashed at the creature. The sword cut through its form like it was striking through fog, but wherever it struck, the shadows recoiled, burning away in sizzling tendrils. Bram was already moving, bringing his greatsword down in a crushing arc, but the creature twisted unnaturally, dodging the blow with impossible speed. Elior leaped in, striking with the Veliblade, and Myrra whispered an incantation, sending a wave of shimmering force toward their foe.

River 'That bastard beat me.' River sat outside on the back porch of the cabin he was staying in, looking out at the woods, sipping a beer, trying to figure out how in the world Blade managed to beat him. There had to be something to whatever he was doing with his pocket, but River couldn't prove anything, and Beta Andrew claimed he'd examined everything carefully before, during, and after the event, and found nothing. So… all he could do was try to do better in the next event, which would be held the day after next. It was a race, and River knew he was fast. So long as Blade didn't find a way to cheat, he could win. If that was the case, he would at least be tied with Blade for first place

While every member of the army was working hard to build their future home, there were two shiny cocoons in the middle of their lot guarded by rats and their little golems. They were Lorne mowers II and Ben Dover II, and as their mothers, were brood mothers too. David needed tanks and attackers to start hunting, and the solution was simple: plated rhinos and blood vultures. Bone vultures would not be as useful as their red cousin, so Upton was spared of the role.

In a flurry, his blade parted the flesh of the beast’s side, twice, digging deep between its ribs on its backswing. The beastman staggered, raising its hands above its head in bestial anger. Ralta dove forward, thrusting his blade upwards and into the monster’s armpit. He felt the metal of his blade quiver and bounce as it struck bone. Ralta let go of the sword’s hilt and spun away from the beast. The creature lurched over, pawning at its wounds, its roar becoming a whine of pain.

Slate beetles crawled over his face; one even slipped inside his ear. He kicked hard against The Beast’s shoulder, forcing it farther down the slope. It would have skidded all the way to the busted fence, but it coat-hangered on the barbed wiring—the end of which was still wrapped around Michael’s ankle. The Beast fought against it, throwing itself from side to side and cutting itself to the bone in the process. The tug of wire made the barbs dig into Michael’s foot, dragging him off his keel like a steer in a lasso’s pinch. The rock thudded soil as he slid into the ditch. Bugs scuttled. He spat dirt, wiped his face against the grass, and kicked in wild jerks to shake The Beast off his leg.

"Let's see if you can escape from me," Brett asked while looking around him. There are eight small blades in his hands. He considers these as his new favorite toys since he bought them from an auction in New York. The eight blades are made from high qualiy stone and they are worth million dollars. Brett only brought these treasures because he wanted to show these off to Adam and Chandler later. But it seems he'll use them as his weapon this time.

He grew taller and taller, feet sinking into the sand until they became roots rushing toward the World Tree. Marcus—the Scarecrow—roared. A wave of green energy shot from the shore and slammed into the golden blade above. The blade froze in the sky, buzzing and trembling with a sound that shattered village windows. "He’s holding it back!" the Auditor whispered, shielding his eyes. But the Reaper wasn’t just that blade. From its shadow, thousands of golden insects poured down, each the size of a car. Their legs looked razor-sharp, made for cutting, and they swarmed toward the village, wings grinding like machinery.

" I looked out the window. Something was moving through the giant corn. Something fast. It was green. Insectoid. A praying mantis the size of a horse burst from the foliage. Its scythe-like arms lashed out, hitting the side of the truck. CLANG. The armor dented. "Drive!" I yelled at Kai. We accelerated. More of them appeared. Giant beetles. Dragonflies with wingspans like gliders. The hyper-growth hadn't just affected the plants; it had affected the bugs that ate them. "They're attacking the metal!" Silas observed. "They sense the star-metal in the engine blocks!" "Leo!" I shouted. Leo was in the jeep ahead of us. He stood up in the passenger seat.

As we crested the final ridge overlooking the crater, I saw them. ​The Harvester infantry. They weren’t machines, and they weren’t men. They were tall, spindly things made of reinforced bone and silver wire, their limbs moving with a jittery, insectoid grace. They didn’t carry rifles; their arms ended in long, humming blades of pure resonance that could slice through reinforced tungsten like it was silk. ​“Fire!” I commanded.