Souls Of Steel Novels & Stories

He turned the corner hard, his heavy boots slamming flat on the wet floor. ​Two Ironbound guards standing by the cell doors brought their shotguns up, but Kaelen was on them before they could set their feet. He grabbed the first guy by the throat with one hand, driving his head straight into the concrete wall with a heavy thud. The man went limp right away, dropping like a sack of rocks onto the floor.

“You sent for me. I’m touched. Another closer consultation? You know you can come to my room any time you want, right? There’s no need to wait for a formal invitation.” He finally lifts his gaze, and his eyes are all business. He’s had time to rebuild his walls, and they're formidable. It’s a bit of a pain to have to redo what I’ve already accomplished before, but eventually I’ll obliterate them to dust and then he won’t be able to keep me out any longer. “Basov. This steel just arrived from Blackthorn, part of our new training gear. It’s much heavier than our usual forgings. Vale claims it’s superior.”

He was smiling at him and was still sitting on that little cloud. "Welcome to Steel Soul Online! I'll be your AI assistant in the game too, so feel free to ask me anything!" stars illuminated the darkness, and beautiful nebulas formed different and colorful shapes. In front of him appeared three little orbs that looked like planets. Every planet is for a different type of player: the first one is for the ones focused on magic, and the second on technology, but each one has a little of the other system, so you can freely visit anyone you want. The third one is the chaotic zone that many people know as the underworld, meant for players seeking a challenge in their gameplay. You can choose one

"I’ve integrated the Mother-Core. It’s no longer just a bike, Dax. It’s the Sovereign." We descended to the launch-bay, where the Sovereign sat pulsing in a state of perfect harmony. It was a masterpiece of the Third Way a chassis made of "Singing Steel" and an engine that breathed the very atmosphere of the Vale. We didn't ride out; we phased out.

the spirit through "Mechanical-Duress." Elen established the Soul-Refinery on the outer rings of the First-Engine. It was a terrifying structure of "Hyper-Compressors" and "Centrifugal-Sieves" designed to strip away the light from the Quintessence, leaving behind only the "Heavy-Residue" of struggle. This was the "Soul-Oil." To produce it, the Guild-Masters had to "D******d" their most difficult memories—the hunger of the North, the fear of the Void, the heat of the forge—into the refining chambers. The oil was literally "Pressed" from the history of the Union.

"Very well!" After that, she went to her basement and brought 2 palm-sized metal cylinders and 4 small steel spheres. "Here are your 2 energy blasters and 4 plasma bombs. Now give me your hand." Creed seemed evasive, yet he forcefully extended his hand. The Soul Armas' were occult weapons that were seized by killing the beasts inside the Glitch. The normal beasts did not yield these Soul Armas. So these mysterious weapons were always difficult to get. These Soul Armas' were believed to be the manifestations of the beast's dying will. Only the beasts that had a certain level of intelligence and strength yielded these soul-weapons.

“Harrion has given you the power to destroy those who stand against us. The Soulbane Drug strengthens you, and the Bloodstone Amulet binds you. There is nothing you cannot conquer!” The soldiers did not cheer, did not respond with the roar of morale that a typical army would. Instead, they merely continued their movements, mindless in their execution. The cold, blank look in their eyes was more unsettling than any cry of battle hardened warriors. These were not men and women fighting for a cause — they were weapons, finely sharpened and ready to strike without question. They had become like programmed robots, and automized machines, ready to attack, ready to kill.

"The 'Genesis' engines you activated are powerful, but they are 'Legacy Hardware.' They require a specific frequency of 'Emotional Energy' to keep the atmosphere stable. Without a continuous feed of 'Soul-Data,' the gold sky will collapse, and the Earth will return to a vacuum within sixty minutes." "You're holding the very air hostage?" Silas growled, his shadow-blades flickering at his wrists. They weren't made of pixels now; they were made of a dark, obsidian-like metal that hummed with a lethal resonance. "Business is business, Mr. Sentry," the Director said. "The 'Soul-Tax' is simple. To keep the sky active for another twenty-four hours, the Syndicate requires the 'Total De-Fragmenting'

They moved with a slow, rhythmic desperation, their silver eyes reflecting the total absence of a "Happy Ending." "They are the 'Recycled Souls' of every sector the Architects ever abandoned," Silas whispered, his gold-veined wolf form simmering. He saw a warrior who carried the broken shield of the North, and another who wore the tattered cloak of the Thorne bloodline. These were versions of themselves from "Alternative Scripts" that had failed the "Market Test."

The Eleven Sovereigns were no longer resonances; they were Authors of the First Day, their emerald-crimson eyes glowing with the prehistoric certainty of a soul that had finally owned its own "Malfunction" Eryx "occurred" beside me again, his Lament-Steel nebula returning with a violent, electric snap, the violet-black stardust roiling with the added heat of a soul that was no longer "Gilded" but Untamed. He pulled me into a kiss that tasted of crystalline air, starlight, and the End of the Script. "We’ve got the soul, Darlene," Eryx whispered, his voice a tidal wave of gravel and love.