Metal Gear Solid Novels & Stories

Kaelen The heavy metal security door of cell block seven glided shut behind us with a definitive, mechanical thud that buried Alpha Bryce’s ruined protests in the deep concrete sub-levels. I didn't loosen my grip on Elara’s hand as we marched back toward the main vertical transit lift. The reinforced carbon-fiber plating of our tactical armor brushed together with every stride, a sharp, metallic rhythm that matched the cold, unrelenting focus of our shared mind. Through the fated mate bond, the golden thread between our hearts was vibrating at a dense, heavy frequency, anchoring the raw, dark dominance of the Midnight Eclipse line straight into my own Alpha successor core.

The Mechanical Logic of the Flight The interceptor roared to life, its "Zero-Point" engine producing a "Low-Frequency" vibration that rattled the hangar’s "Mechanical" floor. Ethan slammed the vehicle into gear, bursting through the "Broken" pressure-gate and into the "Labyrinth" of New Geneva’s streets.

Tarken hated these things. Not only were they dull, but software demonstrations were something only computer geeks could get a kick out of. He was an administrator, a manager, not an I.T. specialist. That’s why he’d brought Donaldson along—to talk geek-talk. Tarken was at the Crown Complex software seminar to talk numbers. Donaldson didn’t have a clue about money, but he knew everything about software. Tarken knew everything about money and nothing about computers, except how to read and send email. Together they made a formidable team.

“No problem. I’ll call you once I’m there. OK?” “Yes,” Emma said. “OK.” **** Jim pulled up in front of Kat’s building, grateful to have found a parking spot for his motorbike so close to the door. He raised his collar against the drizzle, and ducked into the lobby. He waited for the elevator, feeling an odd combination of fury and worry in the pit of his stomach. If you’re up there, girl, I’ll kick your ass for scaring us all like this. Or I may kiss you for being OK after all. Damn you.

There was silver-coated dagger embedded in the side of his stomach, a weapon meant to weaken and kill werewolves. With careful hands, I had cleaned his wounds and applied rudimentary bandages. The sight of him, vulnerable and in pain, had stirred a sense of protectiveness within me. I don't know what it was but he seemed like a genuine person. I wanted to help him not just because of the secrets but because he was a person who made with no one to turn to.

Unfortunately, the cameras didn't have sound, or he would have heard what Eden was asking some security guards. Then Eden did something that half angered Malakai, but also impressed him? But mostly anger. Eden walked into Malakai's office, which he stupidly left unlocked, and went to his first drawer. It was locked. So, what did Eden do? She picked the lock with one of her earrings, and it worked too. And there it was, exactly what Eden was looking for. A gun, but not any gun. Malakai's favourite one. It had a chequered front strap, double diamond grips, stainless steel and engraved frame, polished gold finish of the Wilson Combat Classic Super grade handgun.

A while later a growl from Blaze wakes me with a jolt "Grrrrrrr" Within seconds im alert to the fact that there is movement towards the mouth of the cave and instantly im hunched ready to attack.

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.

I said to him harshly Sweat were beginning to form on my forehead as my water tank wanted to break free.

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.