Souls Of Steel Novels & Stories

As for himself, he bought a giant bucket, crushed up the Steel Fruit and Ironheart Weed, and added them to it. He wanted to take the medicated bath to achieve steelification so he could become a steel fighter! Kayson circulated the steel energy through his body and absorbed the medicine from the bath at the same time to strengthen his bones, tendons, and energy. A full day passed. Kayson only stood up when not an ounce of medicine in the bath was left. “Steelification has been achieved, and I’m a steel fighter now!” Kayson was in a great mood. He was in the same state as Atticus Goldman when they fought in the past.

Sometimes, the body remembers what the soul tries to forget. It wasn't the pain that broke me, but the way my body stopped belonging to me. Every unwanted touch was another crack. A piece of me vanishing without a sound. I arrived to Chicago months ago, and I still struggle to breathe. This city doesn’t embrace me—it watches me. Everything is clean, cold, precise. Neon lights flicker like fake stars, and the rain hits the windows with military discipline. It’s a world built to function, not to feel.

Blake The clubhouse was half-asleep by morning. Engines cold, bottles scattered across tables, brothers snoring in corners. The quiet before the storm. I’d been up before the sun, couldn’t rest even if I wanted to. Old habits. My body never forgot how to be alert, how to listen for sounds that didn’t belong. It wasn’t restlessness—it was survival, sharpened into my bones. I stepped outside, the gravel crunching under my boots. The lot was empty except for rows of bikes, chrome catching the pale light. I leaned against mine, lit a cigarette, and let the smoke curl out into the cool morning air.

There would be more wars, more ghosts, and more roads to conquer. But we weren't afraid. Because a Thorne never wilts, and a Montague never breaks. And together? We were the Steel Phantoms. The road was ours.

And that is the thing she always looks forward to in every mission or fight she's going through. "What would we do?" Steel's voice was unaware of what he will do next, he can always fight someone who is near with devils and demons but to fight wolves is a different story, he already saw one, and he already knows that they are not that easy to fight with. They are thinking as a human, but they are moving as a dangerous creature that can rip your neck out of your head when they touch you, in just one move you could be dead.

The memory of the last few hours crashes into me like molten iron. Me. Gathering my men. “Yes, Boss,” Cameo said when he stepped into my office at the bank. “Get one of the boys to shut down all the security footage leading to the Roshids’ residence. Everything. The neighborhood. The street.” I ordered darkly. I pressed the button beneath my desk. The wall behind me gave way, sliding open to reveal the vault. My arsenal of weapons. Air conditioned. Clean. Sophisticated. “Sir? What are you planning?” Cameo asked from behind me as I stepped into the air-conditioned space.

The Solstice Forge didn’t just produce weapons; it produced a warning. As the "Star-Steel" blades cooled in their racks, glowing with a soft, bioluminescent hum, a new frequency began to bleed through the Forge’s communication array. It wasn’t the rhythmic song of the First City or the golden pulse of the Vanguard. It was a sound like shattering glass—a high-pitched, discordant shriek that made the mercury in the conduits churn with dark foam.

POV: Neoma Steel ground against magic. The Palace District became a collision of biological eras. On one side, the Onyx Guard stood in rigid formation. They were encased in black Barzil-steel plates that smelled of cold oil. They fired experimental white beams that unmade matter. On the other, the Covenant moved as a mass of sweat-slicked bodies. Rogues gripped rebar clubs until their knuckles turned white. Nulls held scavenged rifles with trembling fingers.

—bone-and-iron automatons that moved with a jerky, terrifying precision. "They're targeting the twins' resonance!" Runa screamed, her daggers carving through the iron-marrow of a sentinel. In the center of the necropolis lay the Engine of Souls. It was a massive, rotating sphere of liquid-silver light—the captured spirits of our people. The sphere was held in place by four "Entropy-Anchors" made of the same starlight-iron as our Spire. "BREAK THE ANCHORS!" I roared. But as I lunged for the first anchor, Chronos-Prime appeared before me. He didn't use a blade; he used a Memory-Lance. He drove the weapon into my chest, not to kill me, but to show me the weight of the thousand years of the grav

“Look, whatever this is, you got the wrong guy. I don’t know you people.” The man stepped off the bike and crouched in front of him. “No, Damian,” he said. “We know exactly who you are.” Damian froze. “You’re a patch with the Dead Revenants,” the man went on. Damian’s stomach turned. He couldn’t deny it. “What do you want from me?” he asked carefully. The man smiled without warmth. “Name’s Dez. I’m president of the Brotherrrs of Steel. We’ve been watching you.”