Metal Slug Rebel Army Mga Nobela at Kwento

"To join the rebels, you must be mad, and what other way to show your madness than to hurt your mate and the moon child. Just one swipe to the dagger, and you'll be part of us, the rebels." "To hell with your f..king rebels. You and all the rebels can burn in f..king hell along with the f..king damned parliamentarians." He barked, pointing the top of the dagger to him. "I will never, f..king never hurt my Layla. I rather slit my own throat than hurt a strand of hair on her."

Beside him are two others rebels, all three of them armed with an assault rifles. "Hello, Tristan," the guy with yellow hair starts. "We need to talk with you about something." "Me first," I say, getting up and wiping the bit of sweat from my eyes. "How about you tell me where I am, why I'm here, and where the fuck Rebecca is?" "Don't worry about Rebecca," the guy answers, "She's fine. My men found her before they find you, and quickly took her to our infirmary. She's alive. As for your other questions, my name is Martin, and I am the leader of the Rebel."

“Crusher sends his greetings.” The last shot hit Rebel right at the base of the spine, leaving him alive, but not able to move even one inch. The men contemplated him, prone and helpless on the ground, his golden eyes huge in his face, then they shrugged and turned around. “I’m not risking another shot being heard,” the blond one said to his friend, then glanced down at Rebel. “See you in hell, asshole.” “That’ll be way sooner than you think,” Rebel slurred. “When my boys find out what you’ve done here, they’ll come for you, motherfuckers. They’ll come for all of you.”

the rebel leader screamed, plunging a long iron spear into Zachery's lower abdomen. ​The burning pain was blinding. Zachery gasped, tasting hot, thick copper blood in the back of his dry throat and felt the iron tear through his thick muscles and scrape against his heavy bones. ​Zachery grabbed the thick wooden spear shaft with his bare hands, snapping it in half with a loud crack, then punched the rebel leader in the throat, crushing the man's windpipe. The other two rebels fled, terrified of the dying monster. ​Zachery collapsed into the freezing snow with the broken wooden spear shaft stuck through his bleeding stomach.

To choose what’s most important to them. The Illucian’s were no friends of mine. DeMarcus being the shady man that he was. His wife and daughter being the two that stayed away from his dealings. And his son, Danarius, quickly following in his father’s footsteps. At seventeen he already showed a great prowess and interest in the way DeMarcus ran his underground world. One we all pretended wasn’t tied to the mob or dirty dealings with whatever species would give him the most bang for his buck.

I scoffed lightly, Better to die by their guns than to have that handcuff shamelessly cuffed around my wrist. The moment I saw a tiny spot for me to escape through I dashed towards it, calculating in my head that they wouldn’t want to fire bullet in an open space where majority of civilians are. But I was wrong, at the first step I took, I felt bullet pierce into my body, by the time I had moved three steps away, numerous shots had been fired into my body, i coughed out blood and slumped to my knee. My lips stretched into a smile and I looked up at Damon, “Send my hate to the rest of you guys,”

Maximus declared, his eyes reflecting both determination and a hint of vulnerability. The rebels, a diverse group of former slaves and dissidents, nodded in agreement. They trusted Maximus, not only for his formidable combat skills but also for his unwavering belief in their cause. Together, they plotted their next series of ambushes, exploiting the natural features of the forest to their advantage.

That was a task the general had assigned to himself. The cadets had no cyborgs of their own, the loyal Borges having been employed elsewhere, which meant that shoulder launched missiles (SLAMs) would have to do. Designed for use against Midvalian cyborgs, the SLAMs were the only effective weapons the cadets could use on Sentient armor. Morgan forced confidence into her voice. "Alpha One to Three... Hold them as long as you can and fall back. Four will cover your withdrawal. Over". Riob clicked the hand-held mike two types by way of a reply. Morgan looked at Rycker. He grinned. "You're doing good, ma'am. Keep it up".

So seeing the opened letter in front of his eyes, Samel did not hurry to read its contents as he drummed his fingers more forcefully which caused the table to issue a creaking sound due to his strength. The scope of the Rebel army is the vicinity of the twin valleys outside the inner and outer territory of Rebelliad. And with the past example of the end of the internal strife, the forces living in Rebelliad has been a lot more docile and low-key, so Samel could guess that the report must be related to foreign forces that are eyeing his city in the dark. Samel’s orange pupils landed on the dense words on the report as his calm expression turned graver by the second.

She closes her brown eyes and next they know,she opens them again, but now with a hazel glint shining in them. The Rebel was in control. Let the fight begin.