Scythe Faraday Novels & Stories

Zeve said. “Scythe was broken… into two pieces by the lord… and he hid them in different places, things or people… that’s all I know about the scythe…” “Oh, is that so? No wonder I wasn’t able to trace its mana…” “Mayavi?” Kaltain’s voice was turning fainter and fainter. Zeve chuckled. “You really thought I would keep my words…”

POV DARLENE The Loom-Centinel was a geometric nightmare, its eight limbs moving with a high-speed, arachnid precision that defied the natural laws of a wolf’s hunt. As it lunged through the silver static of the processing floor, its "Optimization-Scythes" hummed with a cyan frequency that literally erased the shadows from the floor. It wasn't just trying to kill us; it was trying to Tidy us—to remove the "Messy" reality of our defiance from the pristine grid of the Twenty-Sixth Cycle.

She was also fierce, especially when it comes to protecting those she cared about. Emily pulled out a scythe from her storage ring, the scythe was around 8 meters tall and it was made from clear crystal-like material that almost looked like spring water. A 4ft tall curved blade was attached to the rod of the scythe. It was a giant weapon that looked like it was created to be wielded by someone 14 ft tall.

“Scythe of the Seventh, come to your master.” From the darkness above, an even darker shape fell to the ground and I reached out to touch it. It felt cold to the touch and the shadow dissipates to reveal a huge scythe, several times taller than I am. I pick it up and swung it around, testing the weight. It feels a little bit heavy, but nothing that I can’t handle. I twirl it above my head and rush at him, sweeping low and going for his torso. A large hand clamped down on the scythe with incredible speed, jolting me forward into a fist. I block, but I feel my bones crack under the intense force.

I happily headed towards Faryah's room and found a doctor injecting something into her. The doctor shook immediately I opened her door. What he was injecting into her fell from his hands. He seemed scared. " Good evening doctor" I greeted as I closed her door. He stood still, he didn't shake or move. Why was he like that. He slowly turned to look at me and I recognised the dark eyes immediately. He wasn't a doctor. He was the one that stabbed Faryah.

I sniffed the air, taking a deep and long whiff. The blood belonged to humans. I was sure of it. But there were no bodies. Not even a single one of the creature hunters, whom I knew for certain were behind this. And not of Willa. “She could be with the twins now. She could be looking for them,” I assured myself quietly, turning away to leave the scene. But then something caught my eye. A syringe on the floor. My eyes narrowed as I took a couple of steps towards it. I crouched down and picked it up carefully, making sure my skin didn’t touch any part of the needle.

Derek said, trying not to laugh at Lewis' reaction. “Fall off?” Derek handed him a headset. “Put this on.” “Are you sure this is safe?” Lewis asked. “Trust me,” Derek said with a low voice. Lewis opened his eyes but his body was still tense. The engine started. The blades began to spin. Lewis’s breathing picked up immediately. “Oh no,” Lewis said, reaching out for anything he could hold. As the helicopter lifted, Derek reached for his hand and took it. Just slightly at first, but their fingers intertwined firmly as the helicopter moved higher.

The leash is still intact. Ninety seconds left. I pull the Phantom Blade from my hair. In the Faraday cage's dim light, the titanium needle catches nothing—it is too flat, too practiced at being invisible. This is the only piece of the Moore legacy that Damian hasn't managed to reduce to a data point.

When it reached about ten feet from him, the thing leaped, front legs ripping at the air as it came for him. Vanadine released the pressure in his left hand, bathing the syphia’s head and face in orange flame as he swung the machete as hard as he could. Whatever part of the creature it hit was like hammering against stone and Vanadine felt a shock run up his arm, almost losing his grip on the weapon. He backed away as the syphia screamed and rolled, trying to extinguish the flames. The stench of burning hair filled the air as greasy, slate grey smoke issued forth. With the syphia now between him and the pile of corpses, Vanadine backing away and the damage the creature had suffered, Vanadine

He’s confident, skilled in his craft and wicked with war scythe. Zane uses a war scythe to harvest the souls to bring back to Death. It’s where the whole concept of the grim reaper's image comes from in the human world. It’s because they took the idea from Zane’s coven. Of course, at the time, they didn’t know. They thought it was all made-up shit in stories. Zane’s war scythe is a badass. The top part of the blade has jimppings as the blade curves toward where it meets the staff; it has black bone-like fragments sticking from it. On the bottom of the staff, there is a badass-looking skull.