Stucky Ship の小説・ストーリー

​The Respiration didn't land so much as it anchored itself into the sea, its massive, barnacled hull groaning as it settled against the basalt pedestal of the spire. It was a Frankenstein of a ship—sections of sleek Sterling "White-Steel" welded to rusted industrial scavenge and draped in a hardy, vacuum-resistant strain of Whisper-Moss that glowed with a sickly, pale violet light.

“Lady Ever—” “No names.” Becky lifted a hand without slowing. “Not mine. Not yours. Not tonight.” The man bowed his head. “As you wish.” “Is the ship ready?” “Aye.” He jerked his chin toward the vessel moored at the far end of the dock. It was a weather-beaten cargo ship, hull patched, sails rolled, the Eastwind insignia freshly painted over with a darker, unfamiliar crest. “False flag, false registry, false manifests. No one’ll track where she’s goin’.”

"Got it" Suddenly she took a sharp turn right, something that he knew would take them even farther from the city. She didn't look disturbed when the black fleet speedily caught up with her, nor did she felt anxious when the firing followed. The Auclairs in all their senses looked in the thirst of blood. There now remained no doubt that Nicolas Himself wished to wipe the couple off the history, he had seen too much.

Even though my abilities have been helpful, that still makes me almost as scary as the people we're fighting. The docks are dark and eerie. The only sounds come from the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore and boats. The water is choppy, and I see several ships bobbing in the distance. It's too far to tell what they are, but it's clear there's only a very select few of them. With Nenee flying around him, Chuck leads us past the yacht that I hoped was his and to a small motorboat with no covering. Crouching in front of it, he looks up at us.

engineering, smooth, seamless, and utterly devoid of the rivets and rust that defined the rest of the world. "Nobody fire!" Leo croaked, shoving the door of the Coyote open. He fell onto the glass, his knees buckling, but he caught himself against the wheel-well. "Kael! Tell your men... safeties on! If we shoot at that thing, we're giving them the excuse they want!" The belly of the needle-ship opened. There were no stairs, no ramps. A circular platform simply detached from the hull and drifted downward, carrying a single figure.

Again Godric almost separated from the contents of his stomach. Godric got out grumbling, while Louis, again, had the fun of his life. Godric made up his mind that if he got into a car again, he would do so without Louis. Many ships arrived at the port. Louis wondered about the size of the ships, but also about their style. He only knew simpler ships. “In the dark. These are magnificent sea cradles. They don't even look like the ships of the underworld. ”Godric looked at the wondering demon. "Ships of the underworld?" Godric wondered whether there were sea voyages there too, or seas and lakes at all. Godric looked at his ticket, then looked for the ship that went with it. This was found quic

even began. The Shipyard was a "Non-Euclidean-Scaffold" the size of a solar system, built from "Ghost-Steel" and "Compressed-Gravity." It was a graveyard of "Prototype-Universes," half-finished "Gears-of-Existence," and "Blueprints-Carved-in-Vacuum." Unlike the "Wild-Multiverse," which was a product of "Accidental-Chaos," the Shipyard was a place of "Abandoned-Design." It was the "Studio" of the "Origin," left behind when the "Smith" retired to see what his "Creation" would do on its own.

We dragged the corpses into the dark. Thomas exhaled hard. “Clock’s ticking.” “Yeah. Let’s go.” We slipped into the yard. The pier was alive—workers hauling crates, forklifts humming, trucks reversing with sharp beeps. But look close enough and you saw it: these weren’t dockhands. They moved with discipline, heads scanning, steps too sharp. Sicily’s army wearing borrowed skin. The shipment was there, stacked in the open like trophies. Dozens of crates, unmarked, except for a faint stenciled number: 19-9.

"I'm okay. Don't make things harder for me." Using her flashlight, Stella saw Keegan near the bed. He looked a bit roughed up, but okay. "Quick, get to a chair!" she urged. However, another sway of the ship stopped Keegan as he tried to stand. He grabbed hold of the bed's armrest to stabilize himself. The ship's violent movements made it impossible for him to move to the chair. So, Keegan used a sheet to tie himself to the bed's armrest to avoid getting thrown around.

— asked blonde woman, blue eyes, wavy hair to the middle of the back, these little wolves a black and a white, Guillermo found them in the forest and said they would be a gift for Alexter's children; Maria didn't want to leave him alone to her fate so I'm taking them with her on the boat. — Yes, Sofia, please, put them in my room — the young woman of maximum 17 years smiles and obeys; Guillermo was once locked in his cabin away from everyone at the bottom of the ship. After ten days of travel, the crew was a little tired, so in the first port, they all stopped; they all went for a walk, instead,