Metal Gear Rising: Blade Wolf Novels & Stories

He fell smoking at my feet. Blood ran freely down my side now, soaking into the fabric. My breathing grew ragged, my limbs heavier, but the more they pressed me, the more something darker rose to meet them. I moved without hesitation, blade flashing when I did not remember drawing it, steel biting through throat and muscle. A wolf tried to flank me, and I caught his foreleg mid-strike, snapping the joint with a pulse of power before driving my weapon home. They began to falter then, snarling more in fear than dominance.

My son was dying upstairs, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. After what seemed like forever, I eventually grabbed the glass and swallowed greedily. The amber liquid burned as it slid down my throat. For a moment the glass was all I had—the cool, sharp taste, the small relief it promised. I set it down, fingers steady but my lungs still tight. Suddenly, my wolf stirred, restless and pacing. *She’s here,* Blade said in my head, a low vibration that made my breath catch. *She’s heading to Liam’s room.*

BLADE 3. Pain. It was all I felt when I shot my eyes opened. I felt so sore and tired. The memories of how Lorenzo plunged deeper into me last night filled my mind. He was so cruel to me. I didn't find any enjoyment in it at all. I tried lifting my hands and I was happy It was back to functioning. My tit hurts too as a result of the sucking he did last night.

It kept looking at me with blue green eyes that were a contrast of mine. I noticed it had silver like white fur which was very rare. It had a lightning streak at the side of its body. Walking around and around me like a predator hunting and stalking its prey. I took on a defensive stance,ready for when it pounced. But the wolf looked at me for a few more seconds and opened its mouth to speak. The voice I heard speaking shocked me so much that I didn't hear what she said the first time. “It's time to wake up, Your Highness,” the wolf said to me.

She pressed a folded cloth into my hands and knelt across from me without being asked, holding Ashford's shoulders down with a strength that belied her age. "The blade," I said. "I need to see the blade that did this." "Here." A young warrior, one of the eastern gate patrol, held out the weapon with shaking hands, the metal catching firelight in a way that confirmed what I already suspected. Silver, worked deliberately into the steel, forged specifically to poison a wolf's blood rather than simply cut it.

“This was forged from the blades of the ones I killed. Use it. Don’t hesitate.” I strapped the sheath to my thigh, the weight of the blade strangely comforting. Ryder watched me with dark satisfaction. “My mate looks good armed.” The words sent another pulse of heat through the bond. We didn’t have time for anything more. Shouts rose from the courtyard below. Howls split the air—Phantom Wolves announcing their arrival. The sound clawed down my spine and my wolf answered with a silent snarl that made my gums ache. Ryder grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door. “Stay close.”

Ariana opened her eyes. She looked toward the nearest corrupted wolf. It was young. Far younger than the ancient warriors surrounding it. Its crimson eyes burned with hatred. Or perhaps... Pain. She walked toward it. Kael saw her. "Ariana!" She didn't stop. The wolf charged. She lifted the First Blade. Instead of striking... She rested the flat of the glowing blade against the creature's forehead. Silver light burst outward. The battlefield disappeared beneath a brilliant flash. The wolf cried out. Not in pain but in confusion.

Unstable. Panicked. A Nightfall warrior. Young. Frightened. I can’t breathe— My focus snapped to him. The connection tightened instantly. And without thinking— I pushed. “Stop struggling.” The effect was immediate. But not the way I intended. The warrior’s body jerked violently. His hand—still gripping a blade—moved. Not by choice. Not by will. The blade drove forward. Straight into the chest of the wolf in front of him. A sickening sound split the silence.

“Back. Don’t engage.” But it was too late—the lead wolf lunged, moving too fast for its broken body. Kaelen met it mid-air, steel flashing. His blade cut through its throat, spilling light instead of blood. The creature shrieked, a sound like tearing metal, before collapsing into ash. The others howled and charged. Mireya shifted mid-leap, her wolf form colliding with one of the corrupted beasts. Claws met claws, sparks flying. The pack joined in, fighting with desperate precision.

The Moonblade, still buried in the ashes of Nyros, glowed faintly, then quieted, its hunger finally sated. Slowly, she pulled it free. Her body ached, her soul felt hollowed out, but she was still standing. Still breathing. The rift behind her shimmered, opening a path back to the mortal world. She stepped through. The battlefield fell silent as she emerged. Her white wolf form was battered, bloodied, but radiant with victory. Her mates were the first to reach her—Jon with fire still burning at his fingertips, Rune limping but smiling, Lioren wiping blood from his brow, and Zarek sheathing his sword with a grim nod.