Skel Suit Novels & Stories

It was a heavy, electric tension that made my skin prickle. Sloane sat with her long legs stretched out. She wore a flawless, matte – black tactical suit, an earpiece resting snugly in her ear. She was the absolute picture of lethal composure, her flinty eyes scanning the perimeter of the townhouse. She looked like a fucking god of war. I sat right beside her.

But he forced himself to stay. He reached out, his rough fingers brushing the small steel bead he had braided into my hair. The metal was cool against my scalp. "Teeth," he reminded me. I stepped out of the shadows. The transition was violent. One second, cool darkness. The next, a wall of heat and blinding light. The artificial suns baked the moisture from my skin instantly. I wasn't wearing gold. I wasn't wearing a cape. I wore the matte-black nanoweave suit. It clung to me like oil, cold and synthetic. Over it, I wore battered leather training gear—scuffed, functional, smelling of Viggo’s sweat and Barzil’s polish. I wore the silver wolf pin over my heart.

Kazimir said, his voice cutting through the mechanical roar. He walked toward her, his heavy boots clanking on the metal grating. He was already suited up in his Liquid-Oxygen Exosuit (a high-tech diving suit that allows a human to breathe oxygen-rich fluid instead of gas to prevent lung collapse at high pressure). He looked like a titan of steel and shadow.

"He thinks he's hunting a rival, a ghost on a bike. He doesn't know his sister-in-law is about to tear a hole in his billion-dollar security grid." Twenty minutes later, I was in the back of the darkened warehouse. The midnight blue gown lay discarded on the oil-stained concrete like the shed skin of a snake. I pulled on the black carbon-fiber suit, the familiar weight of the reinforced padding settling over my shoulders like armor. I snapped the helmet into place, the Heads-Up Display (HUD) flickering to life, displaying a map of Julian’s digital sensors in angry red pulses.

Gab’s POV I helped Skye take off the black dress that she was wearing for the funeral when the riot started. But since we wanted to make sure she was wearing personal protection of easy to use weapons such as a pistol, knife and of course, a bulletproof bodysuit beneath the black dress, right now, the body suit was all she was wearing. She fell asleep and woke up with the same clothes, and maybe because we were in a situation where we were literally trying to stay alive, I don’t know about Marco, but I did not have any lewd thoughts seeing her in this clothing until the flow and direction of our conversations turned upside-down!

There they exchanged their goods for the Tūkāriri Jungle’s pliant material. Back in the Northern Province, the village seamstresses would seal the wrists, neck, and ankles of the suit with sinew derived from the back muscle of the caribou. Because animal sinew shrunk when wet, it limited the amount of water entering and leaving the suit. A blue Slayer would get wet inside his suit but the water would be trapped and remain warm.

Then for the suit jacket, it is going to have just one arm. The other arm will be armless, the breast side of the suit will be padded so no bras needed. The armless part of the suit will stop at where the high waist trouser stops while the long arm will stop on the hips side. Then there will be a button going down to the front of the suit, 4 buttons to be precise. The right hand will have a half collar while the armless side will be bare. I looked at my sketch, the style is very complicated. It exposes the woman's laps, legs, arms and a little bit of the back. I really hope they like it. "Times up," she said. I stood up from the chair and went to them and I presented my sketch, they all look

​The specialized stealth suits felt like a second skin of dense, matte-black weave, engineered to absorb both thermal radiation and local radar frequencies. In the dim light of the bunker's lower armory, Vivian pulled the primary locking straps tight across her chest, her blue eyes reflecting the cold green luminescence of the tactical interface.

Cale was sitting up, staring at the suit with open suspicion. "It's starch, Cale. It's supposed to be stiff. It's formal wear." "It looks like armor," Cale noted. "Ceremonial armor. Does it have Kevlar?" "No. It has silk lining. And please don't ask Mira for a Kevlar vest. She'll try to bedazzle it." Elion hung the steamer up. He walked over to the bed. "How are you?" Elion asked. "Scale of one to ten?"

"The chassis is calibrated to your physical biology. Your right arm isn't earthly iron anymore! It's infused with celestial silver! We have no idea how the void metal will react to lunar gravity!" "If I don't get in this suit, there won't be a city left to care," I shot back, stripping off my coat. I turned my back to the empty, terrifying exoskeleton. Corren wasn't here to pull the release lever, so I used the deep sight. I routed a kinetic pulse into the assembly rack, and the back of the chassis hissed open. I stepped backward, slotting my body into the freezing dark. The plates snapped shut. The thousands of silver neural-needles violently pierced my skin.