Metal Gear Novel Novels & Stories

“Are you guys ready to finally do as we were formed to do?” My eyes glared at Callighan as he lifted his head up to the sky. Once that loud howl came from him, we all prepared ourselves as the wolves charged at us altogether. All we could do was fight to our hearts desire. One charged at me and right when I thought life was over for me, the gunshots came right after him. Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! However, those shots were not enough… -To Be Continued- The End of Book 2

&& On the other hand, inside Country D, at the top of the corpses of the dead, was Malikul covered in black red blood all over his body. “Hah?” He turned his head toward Country C's direction while clenching his chest tightly. “Ugh~” He groaned, scrunched his nose, and wrinkled his forehead. “They… they…” As the predator at the apex hierarchy, he had never felt this strong power surging everywhere inside the novel. It was even hard for him to do it without the novel’s owner's permission. He wasn’t by any means weak, but he respected the creator of this novel - half of the time.

"Our friend gave himself up for us. He sacrificed himself! There has to be a way to bring him back, right? Right?" The old man blinks at me. "He made the ultimate sacrifice." "Yes! That's what I'm saying!" Still, he continues to calmly look at me. "There is no unwriting that." "There has to be!" I curl my hands, my fingers tightening around the coin. ... The coin. I have the Golden Coin! "Damon." Turning around, I hold it up for him to see. His eyes flash with surprise. "Oh my god! You have it!" "Yeah." I lean against the wall, feeling like my insides are eating themselves. I have what we went into the pocket dimension for.

he hissed in Binge’s ear, “because I’m going to indulge my gluttony to the fullest!” Meanwhile, in a darker corner of Corpsehaven… A battered metal door was ripped off its hinges and flung inward, crashing across the floor. Starving survivors, their cheeks sunken and eyes hollow, scattered to avoid the flying debris. They clung to each other—bodies trembling under the weight of trauma that no one should ever endure. Through the open doorway stepped a group of silent figures clad in sleek black armor, each plate designed for aerodynamic efficiency, every inch infused with glowing core lines that shimmered faintly along the seams. A rare luxury, even for the privileged.

Decayed. Instead... It looked untouched by time itself. A strange chill ran down my spine. Slowly... Very slowly... I crouched beside the skeleton. Something about the armor... Felt familiar. As though I had seen craftsmanship like this before. Not in this cave. Somewhere else. Long ago. Then I noticed something lying beneath one skeletal hand. A journal. Its leather cover remained as pristine as the golden armor. Just like the metal... Time seemed to have forgotten to touch it.

The twin turrets opened fire with a terrifying, continuous roar—a high-velocity wall of lead that tore through his tactical armor in a fraction of a second, painting the titanium blast doors in a horrific, violent spray of crimson before his body even hit the ground. I slammed against the stone pillar, my right hand slapping flat against the cold biometric glass plate. The blood from the guard splashed across the toe of my leather boots, but I didn't look down. I kept my eyes locked on the console display as the massive titanium doors began to grind backward into the mountain wall, breaking the seal that had kept the Vane legacy hidden for a generation. Aisha walked slowly out of the smoke,

It seemed that Antoninus wasn't much different from Chris; they both had a fascination with electronic games. But by the next morning, I realized I had misunderstood him. He seemed to be preparing a second gift for Chris. After handling his official duties, I saw him still holding a pen and drawing on paper. This time, in addition to the gun, he drew two sets of armor. These were the armors worn by the characters in the game, military green with a futuristic sci-fi design, something called mechanical exoskeleton armor, if I remembered correctly. I had a vivid impression of it because, without this armor, I would have died countless times in the game last night. But why was Antoninus drawing

I ask, leaning in and inspecting it closer. “Just wipe it off, will you?” he sighs heavily and I comply. “I’m sure Anna will tell you all about it.” We hit the area where I crawled off my mom only ten minutes ago and my jaw drops. There are dead rogues and lots of warriors cleaning up the mess by collecting and burning bodies. “What the hell happened?” “Our Luna disappeared and stopped responding to our gamma,” he says, his jaw clenching and body tense. I clearly didn’t notice his reserved anger when he found me, but looking at him now, I realize he is angry.

he says, his voice like gravel. My stomach twists. He's right, of course. But where will we find it? Suddenly, he stiffens. Alarm bells go off in my head, and I tense. "What?" I whisper. Instead of answering, he pushes me behind a tree. We crouch there in the snow as a handful of people dressed in long, black trench coats walk down the sidewalk. My fingers curl into the trunk's bark. Silver Hunters. I guarantee that under each of those coats they have swords.

Bloodlines, death lines, ghost lines. *** Dawn bled into grey. The world outside felt unclean. Rain turned to sleet. The sky flickered with low thunder like buried drums. Savannah stood barefoot in the foyer, the cold tiles sending electric shocks up her spine. She clutched her phone, her thumb trembling over the screen. Her lungs refused air. She opened the Notes app. Magnolia’s twin survived. Weston erased her. Elira—Observer—is only half our story. Gamma exists. She’s real. She remembers.