Pacific Rim Mako Mori Novels & Stories

Even the sirens of the approaching police cruisers faded into a confused, mechanical silence. ​The only light left was the moon, pale and indifferent, and the orange glow of the burning crane at the museum. ​"Move!" Malakai grabbed my hand, and we dove for the roof access door just as the first Reaper hit the gravel behind us. Without their night-vision goggles—which had been fried by the pulse—they were as blind as anyone else.

Madam Amelia seemed to know this as she nodded her head at me. “Now what? You can’t break your vow. What will you do? You can’t have a Wolf Rider running around Astoria.” There it was. She knew what her daughter was. The half human part of it was the least of it. The fact that she was a Rider—a creature that could control a werewolf with a simple command. A creature that ruined my family's life. A creature, who must be destroyed before it gains power. There hasn't been a rider born in half a century, and even before, there was only one that ruled Astoria.

Sunlight shines on her beautiful face, Maki's face gradually reveals itself, a woman who is as cold as the wind, Maki has never smiled sincerely, she faces this world of lies with coldness. “Sharmaine, can you still come back here?” Maki is curious, Sharmaine and Pandora have been captured by clan Mohini, they cannot allow Sharmaine to leave that place. Sharmaine is immortal, if he can subdue Sharmaine, the Mohini clan will have a vampire super soldier. “Of course, I will still be able to return.” Sharmaine smiled, she was okay with Maki's provocation. “Maki Mohini, this is your full name.” Sharmaine looked at Maki and spoke.

Mark snapped out of his trance when he saw 2Pac approaching him. 2Pac glided through the flames, and it seemed like he was walking in slow motion. The metal man’s eyes still shined brightly, like high beams on a Ferrari. Mark’s skin became chilled when he saw how 2Pac didn’t have a scratch on his gleaming, armored body. The fire didn’t affect 2Pac’s shirtless metal physique. The blast didn’t even affect the light diodes in his high-resolution eyes. This was not good since the explosion compromised the integrity of Mark’s exoskeleton suit.

Dominic’s gold-rimmed eyes snapped toward the massive, multi-inch sheets of reinforced acrylic that looked directly out into the dark, underwater depths of the Pacific trench. The white mist and boiling steam from the nuclear strike had finally cleared, but the ocean wasn't dark anymore. Five miles down, in the blackest abyss of the oceanic trench, a massive, rhythmic pulsing light had begun to beat. It wasn't the cold blue energy of the First Lycans, nor was it the golden fire of the Northern line. It was a terrifying, blinding combination of both—a swirling vortex of cosmic purple lightning that shot upward through the water, targeting the bunker.

My boyfriend, Nolan Reed, was in the running for head coach of the national open-water swimming team, and he was a sports streamer with eight million followers. On a trip to Santa Catalina Island, he said he'd use a livestream to help me conquer my fear of deep water. The second the camera went live, Leah Morgan, the friend I trusted most, shoved me from behind. An icy wave swept over my head. I struggled toward Nolan and reached for him, but he took half a step back, dodging my hand. "Don't pull her out yet. It takes real fear to unlock someone's full potential." Leah thrust the gimbal and ring light so close they nearly touched my eyes as they rolled back. "Ivy, bigger reactions. We just b

Would she blend in? The lights ahead indicated shop windows, and Miro let out a rough breath. She squeezed the money pouch in her hand, intent on purchasing the right clothes to blend in. Miro passed a window with a large display of wooden boards. She recognized those—humans used them to ride the waves—as if that contraption made them feel like part of the ocean. Miro snorted in disgust. She hated the species. All they did was dump their waste in her seas, not caring about other living creatures. Over-fishing and raping the waters. That was the human way.

I can feel that Lemuel is just as stunned and in awe as I am. There’s a sort of net of purple energy surrounding the Orraikam and if I had to guess, I’d say that is thanks to the makkari standing before us. How do I know she’s a makkari? Might be the pitch-black eyes with pupils like small pearls that gave it away. I’m not sure if the other woman is a makkari or not, but it doesn’t really matter. They are gorgeous though.

It was a Leviathan, but it was constructed exactly like the Magma-Beasts, just forged in the crushing, freezing dark of the Mariana trenches instead of the volcanic core. It stood three hundred feet tall, looming over the mouth of the bay, water cascading in waterfalls from its shifting, jagged shoulders. Its core wasn't fire; it was a swirling, blinding vortex of bioluminescent blue light. It didn't screech. It released a low, sub-audible hum that literally vibrated the cobblestones beneath my boots, a frequency so deep it made my teeth ache. "Jace!" Elara shouted, planting her boots at the edge of the dock, gripping her iron staff with both hands. "The seawall isn't finished! The circuit i

California. Santa Monica Beach. At the break of dawn. When the first rays of dawn pierced the heavy radiation clouds, spilling over the devastated California coastline, the world fell into the dead silence of survival. The beach was littered with massive purple crystals and chunks of carapace left behind by the collapsing Titan. The waters of the Pacific Ocean still boiled faintly from the residual Zero-Point energy, glowing with an eerie, ethereal blue light. In the center of this apocalyptic ruin stood one hundred black Aegis mechs, the absolute pinnacle of human engineering. And at the very front of the formation stood the Vanguard mech, radiating a pure white halo like a descended god.