Metal Gear Rising Novels & Stories

The battle was relentless. No tactics, just desperate, ragged survival? Cillian and I charged straight into the carnage. I just goy my jacket off, flung to the floor before the first Hybrid got the drop on me. The risk of having so many new recruits; enemy scents were not obvious. A risk clearly being exploited by Rising Star.

DYLAN My body aches as I try to sit up straight, breathing shallowly and raggedly. The dead underneath me is stained by the blood that drips down my temple. Our celebration had swiftly devolved into a battleground, with my once-thriving pack in ruins and warriors dispersed and vanquished. The metallic tang of my rage is mixed with the stench of smoke and blood. Talon had arrived like a raging storm, destroying all I had worked so hard to create, stealing Phoenix from me, and humiliating me in the process.

I stuttered, trying to find the right words. “Maverick!” the soldier yelled, looking unbothered at the sight of the dead body on the floor. Axel’s hand shot out, dragging me towards his side, standing in a protective stance, ready to fight whatever it was that was coming at us. The danger wasn’t in here, was it? Before I could question Rosanne about what had happened and why Maverick was in her room the soldier spoke first, breaking the news that I was dreading. “The Golden Rise Alpha, they are coming, just a few miles from here,”

She stepped into the light, revealing a tall woman with strong, athletic features and light brown hair, pulled back in a ponytail. “Base, this is Ariana” She spoke once more into the walkie-talkie “The target is down” Yes the hunt was on… and Ariana was the Huntress. George Jordan did not see himself as a prideful man. None of his academic or militaristic achievements put much of a smile on his face, but one thing he will always boast about, is his daughter Ariana. He watched, a massive grin stretching his lips, as she dragged in the unmoving form of her latest quarry into the association compound. The fellow hunters around them now already numbed to the crazy amount of success she had alway

We’re going to take you and the blonde up to the surface and then we’re going to come back down and finish the job. Just be careful, please? She couldn’t keep the desperation she felt from flooding through the link along with the words. Her arms tightened slightly around his neck. Always. His thought growled through her mind. They were close to the exit when they heard the sound of a multitude of footsteps marching down the steps from the surface. Cole growled once again and the group turned together down the first hallway they came to. Cole stopped at a large metal door that was ajar, held open by what remained of the scientist that had been working inside when the fighting had broken out.

And then— The phone buzzed again. Everyone froze. Kael answered quick, jaw tight. “Yeah?” Static filled the room before a voice cut through—low, distorted, mechanical. “East Ridge was just the beginning. You dig in the wrong places, you dig up ghosts.” The line clicked dead. No one moved for a long beat. The only sound was Riven’s breathing, sharp and uneven. Ari finally broke it. “We’re being played with.” His grip tightened on the shotgun. “They’re in our heads now.”

It was all noise, a tide that tried to erode her, but Nyxara wove through it, heels tapping out a deliberate, unyielding rhythm on marble floors that gleamed like ice. Screens lit up as she passed, filling the air with the glow of incoming threats. Human adversaries moved positions in red outlines, supernatural anomalies flared on spectral sensors, and financial graphs bled crimson where her enemies chipped away at her holdings. Each warning tried to claim her attention, to force her hand, but she wore her indifference like armor. The world pressed around her, but she would not be moved.

Only now did I realize the torrent of affection in their gazes. The commotion continued. Suddenly, a staff member shouted, “A driver went off the track and fell into the sea! They’ve not been rescued yet.” Some dissatisfied fans near me sneered, “Could it be Lewis? He hasn’t shown up yet.” Hearing this, Alanna froze mid-pose. … Rally racing was, after all, a dangerous sport, where crashes and fatalities were never unexpected.

Robin Hood with high-caliber rifles. "Alright, team," Ren said, equipping his Spectral Rifle. "Loadout check. Tank, you're on aggro. Keep Midas busy. Jinx, you're on crowd control and trap disarming. I'll focus on DPS and weak points. Let's go get that loot." THE MISSION: THE IRON CITADEL The world loaded in a flash of pixelated white light. When vision returned, they weren't in a dirty Aethelgard alleyway. They were standing on a suspended brass bridge, high above a sea of clouds.

The sound of the footsteps wasn’t a human cadence; it was the rhythmic, heavy grind of tectonic plates sliding over bone. Ga-chi. Ga-chi. The command deck’s silver doors hissed open, and the freezing air of the North Wing flooded the bridge, carrying the scent of permafrost and the cloying, metallic rot of the Second Prime. I stood in the center of the room, my silver-alloy blade raised in my right hand. My left arm—the quartz monument etched with the crimson-black sigil—vibrated so violently I felt the bones in my shoulder start to splinter.