Poison Mist Ash Of War Novels & Stories

Justthere it was He pulled out a black case out and unzipped it. Two small syringes with gleaming green liquid were tucked in elastic straps. He removed them from the pouch. Without a word, he walked over to the bathroom sink. He depressed the plungers on the syringes and drained their contents. The third one in Moscow would be handled soon. There was bound to be more of this back at the Brotherhood labs, but he felt a small bit of relief destroying the immediate threat.

What got her worried was the car that was closely following her. “Those pesky humans,” she thought, “ always looking for who to rob”, not me. She decided to mislead them, so she took another road flanked on both sides by the thick forests. “They'll think twice before following into this dense bush" she increased the speed of her car and drove into an opening in the forest that was now dark but she could still see. Which is one of the many advantages of being a shifter. She looked through her rearview mirror and saw that the car was still following her.

It was possession. Elias’s voice rose over the chaos, sharp with runes I’d never heard him speak before. His hands burned so bright the air warped around him, each sigil etched like a brand into the dark. Flames roared higher than the treetops, licking across the battlefield in jagged arcs that cut down mercenaries too slow to shield themselves. He wasn’t weaving illusions anymore. He wasn’t calculating costs. He was burning everything that stood between me and him, and if the whole forest went up in ash, I don’t think he would have cared.

She continued to blow more mist toward us. I didn't realize that the mist was highly acidic; it melts my hair instantly as soon as it made contact. My hair layer becomes thinner and thinner. Soon after, the poison entered the last barrier, which poisons Noah and me immediately. I feel immense pain scatter throughout my body and at the same time, I become paralyzed. As for Noah, his body slowly turns to violet… ***

Behind her came wolves of smoke, wraiths with bones of silver, and worst of all a mirror image of Aria herself. This version wore a crown of thorns and bled from her eyes. Her voice, when it spoke, was like a blade dragged across stone. “I am the version of you that broke,” she said. “And I am here to finish what you refused to do.” The Prophetess smiled, lifting her hands. “The Ash War begins now.” The skies split apart as storms crashed through the veil. The Ash Dream could no longer contain the power. The real world was bleeding in. Trees burst into flame. The earth groaned. Screams echoed across the sky.

“Don’t worry, it’s not toxic.” Looking around, I’m mortified. What I thought was snow, I realise painfully, is ash, stacked up around barren trunks, which lean and sway lazily a strangely sweet breeze. The leaves have been stained white by whatever plague ravished this land, whatever plague was meant for the war. I shiver. This plague could have been a weapon created many years ago, but yet the thought of it being intended for soldiers like my father have my stomach turning uneasily. “So if it’s not snow, what is it?” I ask, even though I already know.

If someone is drugged by monkshood, they will not be shifted for a long time. Aron flicked the cigarette ashes onto a tray of medicine on the side table before inhaling the smoke again. "I-Isn't it a poison?" I asked, lifting my gaze to look at him. He nodded his head. "It is the most dangerous poison ever used in war, the wolfbane," he said calmly. My eyes widened in shock. "W-Wolfbane? H-How did you get that scent?" I asked curiously, with shock. His brow furrowed as if he had not expected me to ask him this question.

The northern sky did not dawn with the familiar hues of amber and rose; it broke in a sickly, bruised violet, choked by a dense, suffocating cloud of black soot. High above the permafrost, the Ashen Wastes—once a pristine, blinding expanse of white snow and blue glacial ice—had been transformed into a smoking graveyard of obsidian earth. What had only days ago been the Frostpeak Outpost was now a vast, gaping crater, seething with liquid magma and roiling columns of radioactive ash. The air was thick with the taste of sulfur and ancient death, heavy enough to rip the breath from mortal lungs.

The heavy lead slug punched a fist-sized hole straight through the corroded underbelly of the ventilation duct. Rusted metal groaned as the pressurized seam tore open. A torrential waterfall of thick, gray ash and silver-salt soot vomited from the ceiling, billowing outward in a suffocating cloud that blanketed the loading bay. The air turned opaque. The Unlearned coughed, pressing their snouts into the wet floor. Through my frozen quartz eyes, I watched the dust settle like heavy gray snow, coating the concrete and the rusted pumps. The active camouflage bent light, but it couldn't repel matter. As the thick silver-salt ash fell, it clung to the void-black armor of the Silence-Weavers. Five

Eren The docks were covered in mists,this place looked like a graveyard for mermaids.The water reeked of salt, smoke and dead bodies. There were no boats in the river, the docks had been closed down since the flood few years ago but Raves found this place and used it as a quite and Safe means to transport humans and do their black market trade. The police were in dark uniforms, Orion taking the lead. He was better suited to be a cop, not some mafia puppet,just like the rest of us.