Metal Gear Solid Novels & Stories

The time was now 1:14pm and she could make out some movement at the glass door which opened as two huge Japanese men in black suits walked out, followed by another of average height behind them. She moved her sniper slowly to the right as the men made their way across the parking lot to their black sedan. Looking through the scope of the magnified glass attached to her weapon, she held her breath as the chest of one of her target’s bodyguards appeared on the crisscross mark, which was immediately followed by the bald head of the yakuza boss.

Trent snarled, through his bloodied rag he kept on his face. "Each joke, something breaks," War whispered lowly as he smelt Trent's anger stinking up the car. Rot...a disgusting rotting scent that War had quickly gotten used to a long, long time ago. He was sure that his little mate's nose wasn't as developed, so he was surprised when she began to stir awake. He was momentarily frozen as he watched movement behind her eyelids...then her eyes opened. The air drained from his lungs and as her molten chocolate eyes peered up at him in confusion. He could see the wheels mentally turning in her head as a look of realization suddenly dawned on her.

As it swung open, everyone froze in shock. "Bring her out!" Ean barked. One guard hesitated. "Mr. Smith, the freezer... It seems to have turned on." Ean's expression twisted in anger. "What do you mean turned on? Are you trying to shirk responsibility?" He stepped forward, the cold air hitting him like a physical blow, sending chills down everyone's spine. His face went pale. "Madeline, don't think that this will make me forgive you. Get out here!"

“It’s just...sinking. Slowly. And possibly alive.” “I’m starting to think Charlie let us come out here on purpose,” Ben said. “Like a final ‘good luck, dumbasses’ before we step into a trap.” “Guys...” Jax’s voice went quiet. “I think we’re stepping into a trap right now.” The ground squelched beneath them—then clicked. Gunner’s eyes widened. “Don’t move—” Too late. Runes hidden beneath the mud lit up in sickly green. Tyler swore. “Son of a—”

It was such an old gesture, so formal and so completely out of character with everything Drake usually was, that I felt the back of my throat tighten unexpectedly. "Don't die in Hell," he said. "I didn't pull you back from the Neverplain to lose you to it." "I'll do my best," I said. "Your best involves catastrophic collateral damage and a body count." "But I'm usually still standing at the end." Something moved in his expression that might have been, in a different face, a smile. He released my shoulders, reassembled himself into Council Elder and Divine Warrior and ancient tactician, and followed Greg and Andrews out of the room.

Sully stood off to the side of the indoor shooting range, watching Cordelia load her gun. He wasn’t at all surprised at her choice of personal weapon: a Smith & Wesson M&P Shield. Compact and light, it was a popular choice with women with smaller hands... but it had a quick reset triggered by the striker-fired action, so the gun made it possible for multiple rounds to be fired quickly. The gun was sleek and slim – but it was fucking fast and lethal. Sully got the feeling that it was the perfect gun for this tough, sweet woman.

The robot’s chest plate began to drip, molten metal falling to the floor with sizzling plops. “Clear visual!” Willz yelled. Mello, finally finished, held up his sketchbook. He had drawn not a bazooka, but a long, wicked-looking katana with a serrated edge. “I hear you, brother!” Bryan, his energy clearly flagging, gasped out, “Make the final move!” Willz’s scythe appeared in his hands in a swirl of shadow. Mello’s drawing glowed, and the katana materialized before him, dropping into his grip.

for the current version of the roots, a place where the Directorate’s oldest, most primitive security systems were still active. ​"We’re picking up a 'Hard-Signal' from the mountain-side," Kael said, his obsidian-armor turning a pale, arctic white to match the environment. "It’s a 'Kinetic-Sentry' grid. They aren't using Aether-tech, Elena. They’re using Old-World Railguns." ​The Iron Gate ​The ship landed in a swirl of snow and ice, its roots struggling to find purchase in the frozen rock.

- [Mech Form: Third Evolution (20 meters)] [Mech Level: 50] [Weight: 53 tons] [Combat Power: 2655] [Strength: 18.5 tons] [Speed: 20 m/s] [Type: Medium-weight Melee] [Engine: Electromagnetic Range-Extender Engine (Legendary)] [Equipment: Ultra-Energy Solar Sword (Epic), Alloy Defensive Armor (Excellent), Multi-Point Continuous Thrusters (Excellent), Hundred Battle Core (Epic), Detection Core (Legendary), Assault Core (Epic), Gale Core (Epic), Freezing Funnel Tier 1 (Epic)]

The memory of the last few hours crashes into me like molten iron. Me. Gathering my men. “Yes, Boss,” Cameo said when he stepped into my office at the bank. “Get one of the boys to shut down all the security footage leading to the Roshids’ residence. Everything. The neighborhood. The street.” I ordered darkly. I pressed the button beneath my desk. The wall behind me gave way, sliding open to reveal the vault. My arsenal of weapons. Air conditioned. Clean. Sophisticated. “Sir? What are you planning?” Cameo asked from behind me as I stepped into the air-conditioned space.