Symbiote Agony Novels & Stories

He dropped it onto the metal table right in front of her. "Let's talk about the biological weapon you're carrying, rogue," Gideon whispered, leaning down until he was inches from her face. His amber eyes flashed with a lethal, unblinking intensity. "Our front line warriors are vomiting blood and dying by the dozens from a silver based rot. And tonight, you materialize on our borders with the exact plants needed to synthesize it."

The static roar in Verina’s head reached a deafening crescendo, a sound like a million dying machines. The garden was gone, replaced by a cold, shifting architecture of obsidian and light. She stood on a platform of pure, fractured data, her skin tingling with a violent, synthetic heat. Across from her, Silas was frozen in time, his body caught in the thrall of the forced synchronization. His eyes were no longer brown, nor were they the Archon’s cold gold—they were a swirling, chaotic grey, a glitching mess of human agony and digital code.

The sun had fully risen by the time the team returned to Nightwind, But there was no warmth in its light. The encounter in Blackpine had left them scorched, physically unhurt, but mentally singed by what they’d seen Kael. In a woman, In a mirror, In the bloodline In Liora’s shadow. Sera slammed the doors shut behind them. “I don’t like this,” she growled. Altheya’s brow was furrowed. “It’s not resurrection. It’s… something worse. Symbiosis. He’s hiding inside her like a parasite.”

"Anji, end it. Secure the anchor." Anji looked down, his obsidian eyes burning with an artificial fever. He surged forward, pushing the friction until both their breaths stopped in unison. A massive, echoing jolt rocked his spine, and he felt his energy surge into Arga—the Essence acting as a catalyst for complete, psychological tethering. Arga stiffened, a silent, hollowed-out cry escaping his chest, and then, as quickly as it had begun, he sagged against the desk.

I snapped my eyes open. I wasn't seeing blue anymore. I wasn't seeing gold. My vision was a terrifying, brilliant silver. It matched the grey in my veins, which was no longer a poison, but a weapon. I felt the virus. I felt the synthetic silver. I didn't fight it. I swallowed it. I made it part of me. I was bigger. Heavier. My muscles were dense as lead. Caleb was still on top of me, but he was slumped forward, his breath coming in shallow, wet rattles. He’d taken the overflow. He’d taken the agony of the betrayal.

But now she has a subtle smile on her face, she is too lucky to have such a beautiful family, at any cost not let anyone destroy it. The little angel who is observing her sighs in relief, she doesn't scare Shanaya but this war is not going to be easy. Mayuri is a way more strong enemy with her backup for this little innocent girl, it is just the angel's hope that this time Shanaya might be more strong. ....

He studied her. “To give you advice.” He leaned in, voice barely above a whisper. “You are surrounded by wolves. Some you see. Some you don’t. Choose your alliances wisely.” She didn’t flinch. “And you expect me to trust you?” His smile sharpened. “No. I expect you to survive.” Then he slipped a small card into her hand and walked away. Sheraphina didn’t look down until he disappeared around the corner. A single symbol was printed on the card: A serpent biting its tail.

"Don't talk like that. Don't talk like you're already dead." But we both knew the odds. Brock was desperate. Cornered. Unpredictable. And I'd wounded his pride publicly. Made him look weak. Made him look like a coward. Men killed for less. Especially men who felt they had nothing left to lose. Agent Park inserted the GPS implant. Small incision under my collarbone. Just under the skin. Sealed with surgical glue. Would leave a scar but would keep me findable. Keep me from disappearing completely even if Brock killed me and moved my body.

The force inside me surged violently, with gray-white streaks quickly crawling up my chest. My skin felt like it was about to tear open, while the burning sensation nearly consumed me. But I held it in. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as blood dripped between my fingers. Emilia, you chose him again. This marked the end for us. I staggered back to the isolation room, leaning against the wall and gasping for air. It was clear now that this infection wasn't the usual kind. I heard the sound of engines starting outside.

Slowly, I turned my head and came face-to-face with a who could only be described as a god in human form. Oh my God! My subconscious screeched in disbelief. God sent an angel indeed. I mean only angels can be this good looking, right? He had dark silver eyes and jet black hair which made him look divine, complementing his god-like look. Strands of his hair fell on his face. His sharp jaw seemed as if it was carved by God himself. And the silver lip ring attached to his pale pink lips was my last undoing. With eyes glued to his lips, the only thoughts that claimed my mind were;