Modern Weapons Novels & Stories

Come see. Back indoors, from his bunch of keys, he unlocks a second cabinet. And it's a completely different collection. The weapons inside are old and clearly second-hand. Pretty they're not. But this time, it's the real McCoy: AK-47s and AKMs. Soviet-made rifles, built for fighting wars. Not sophisticated, and lacking most of the bells and whistles of many of the modern 'improved' designs, but rugged, reliable and easily maintained. Toothy has quite a range on offer. Given the number of similar weapons I saw on my visit to Juliana's apartment, they're common in the area, so I suppose it's no surprise.

One couldn’t even find any corpses without missing any body parts. It was simply too terrifying and brutal. When Harvey looked at this, he sighed. He had also survived on the fields of battle and knew that modern firearms were extremely terrifying on the battlefield. However, weapons from Grand City that had merged with the power of Martial Arts and modern firearms were even more terrifying. A True Warrior might not have to take one or two attacks from a weapon like the Warsong seriously. But when they came in waves like this, even a True Warrior elite would be forced into a retreat when they might lose their lives.

What Michelle thought was, maybe she would never be able to keep up with Alexis even though she was younger than him. "Looks like you'll get bored if I give you close combat training continuously. Come with me," said Reinhard who stepped into the warehouse followed by Mikaela who walked a few steps behind him. Reinhard took out two sub-machine-gun-type weapons. More specifically the Mini-Uzi, an automatic weapon that is comfortable to hold in one hand. Michelle accepted it after Reinhard confirmed that the bullet was loaded and the safety was removed.

Simon remarked, his voice low and steady. Drake's gaze was drawn to the guns, their sleek frames and polished finishes reflecting the dim warehouse lights. Pistols, revolvers, and automatic rifles stood side by side, their barrels glinting with a cold intensity. The sight was both captivating and intimidating, a reminder of the lethal potential these objects held. "Each one has its purpose," Simon explained, his hand gesturing towards the guns. "From self-defense to more... specialized tasks."

One down, two to go. If this was in the past, Wade would have thought that Vincenzo wanted to kill him. But now, he didn't. He knew that someone was reproducing the guns on a large scale. The guns were unlike the ones in the military or used by the government. They were powerful and durable. Waterproof and even fireproof. Why was bastard Vincenzo so smart to create such a weapon?

Drake doesn't know anything about this situation, so I'm sure, too that these are not his. "Okay, let's start packing these." I put the long ones first before the shorter weapons. There's a gun like pistol, revolver, rifle, shotgun, etc. There's even swords and daggers, grenade and smoke gas. Why would they hide these here? There's a big percentage of probability that Drake would see these. "I'm done."

But my most dangerous weapon was no longer steel, it was the darkness pulsing in my blood. Nathan walked beside me. His armor, dark as the midnight sky, swallowed the light around it. His wings were folded tightly against his back, yet with every step the power coiled within them was unmistakable. The Hunter had returned, but when he looked at me, the memory of the bedroom still smoldered in his eyes. They were already waiting for us in the hall before the armory. Jake leaned against the wall, checking his weapons. The modern assault rifle taken from the military was a strange contrast to the ancient obsidian blade hanging at his side. His face was unreadable, but his movements were tight an

He looked like devil in uniform—unrealistically broad, calm, dangerous in a way that made the mounted lions in the hunting room look like playful kittens. Weapons were next. He laid them out on the well-lived oak table as if we were playing cards: Glock 17, black polymer, grip rough enough to sandpaper fingerprints. Heckler & Koch MP5, compact, folding stock, whisper suppressor already mounted. Ka-Bar knives, edges blackened, sheaths worn smooth from too many last resorts. A pouch of grenades that looked like toys until you imagined your lungs shredded across a wall. I ran a finger along the Glock’s slide. It was cold, simple and honest. Tools of death are always more honest than the mouths

Crates upon crates of rifles, submachine guns, pistols, machine guns, heavy machine guns, and more. Warehouse after warehouse filled with grenades, flashbangs, tear gas canisters, explosives, land mines, and everything else you could imagine. "Ms. Reid, take it all!" "Yeah, let's take every last bit!"

Carine said. “You are teasing me,” Marrin said. “I wish I was,” Carine said sadly. “They’ve developed weapons that can destroy entire cities and leave the surrounding areas poisoned for thousands of years. People not killed in the initial blast suffer horribly with sickness and cancer, dying over years. It’s disgusting.” Marrin stared at her in utter disbelief. “Is this true? She asked. “Sadly it is,” Carine said. “They’ve built enough of these weapons to destroy the whole planet and kill billions,” she added in a sick voice.