Tf2 Scout Novels & Stories

"No contact?" The lead scout shook his head. "No rogues." A pause. "But we found more tracks." The atmosphere tightened immediately. "Same area?" The scout nodded. "And another marker." Silence. The Hollow Alpha again. Always watching. Always reminding. As though he wanted the territory to know he remained there. Waiting. The scout handed over a small wooden piece. Unlike the previous marker, this one had broken away from a larger sign. Words had been carved across its surface.

he'd called it, though Jack suspected simple curiosity. "Visual contact," Marcus announced. Jack looked up and saw it. The scout ship was beautiful—a sleek vessel of silver and blue, organic curves suggesting it had been grown rather than built. But it was clearly damaged. Portions of its hull flickered with unstable energy, and a trail of debris marked its descent path. Behind it, still distant but closing fast, three dark shapes pursued. The Vanguard hunters. "Aria-7, this is Jack Miller," he broadcast on the Origin Heart's frequency. "We're here to help. Can you match our position?"

One of our scouts burst into the room, his face pale and covered in sweat like he'd been running. "Alpha!" he gasped. "We have a problem!" Ares was on his feet instantly. "Report." "Tiana," the scout panted. "She's not at Blackthorn anymore. She's gone. They're all gone."

My spine stiffens for a second as I stare at him. “What markings?” He swallows before finally saying. “Territory claims.” Cold spreads through my chest. “Where?” The scout hesitates. “…Near the southern tunnel exits.” William curses quietly beside me. Impossible. Those routes are hidden. Known only to high-ranking wolves. My voice drops dangerously calm. “Describe them.” The scout answers shakily. “They're not ours.” My wolf rises fully now. Completely at alert now. Feeling furious because from all that's been happening territory markings mean certainty.

There was a metallic click sound on rocks. The eyes of Tyra opened. “They discovered us.” I could see movement of trees through the broken windows. Black figures falling down, coming down to the ground with no sound. Council Scouts. Their metal limbs shone in the dark, and their faces were covered by black visors. The latter one knelt and examined the ground with a sort of instrument. It stopped and cocked its head. Then it said into a communicator, “Target found, everything is united, communicate in thirty seconds."

"Look at you, all eager to please. You didn't even offer anything in return. Why would she help you out?" He then handed me a card. "I'm Daniel Jenkins. Here's a little something for our first meeting. ZenWave's beauty clinics are all part of my family business. With this card, you can enjoy unlimited visits." ZenWave was a well-known, high-end beauty clinic chain. A single visit there could cost tens of thousands of dollars. This gift was too generous. I didn't take the card, but Leon snatched it from Daniel's hand and stuffed it into mine.

The structure loomed over them, a skeleton of timber and ancient stone. "See?" Adrian wheezed, his eyes scanning the horizon. "We made it." "Adrian," Victor whispered, his hand clutching at Adrian’s arm with surprising strength. "Look." Adrian turned. A mile out, near the treeline, a soft, pulsating red light began to drift through the snow. It was a Syndicate scout drone, its thermal sensors sweeping the terrain in a rhythmic, terrifying arc. "They're not looking for us," Adrian realized, his heart hammering against his ribs. "They're looking for the decoy signal."

The scout said sucking in a broken breath. “Vampires?” Dante asked as his gaze sharpened. “Yes. But they were already inside.” The scout said and everything inside me went still. “How many dead?” I asked. “Too many.” He said as his mouth trembled. “Where’s Kyle?” Dante asked. “Alive. Furious.” The scout managed to say. The scout grabbed my wrist suddenly and his fingers were slick with blood. “They knew the patrol routes. They knew the weak doors and the blind spots. They moved through the packhouse like someone had walked them in.” He said.

A seasoned scout standing to Jax's left slowly lowered his tactical rifle, his chest heaving as his hands physically shook against the metal stock. "But sir... I don't know if I can," the scout stammered, his voice tight with a deep, instinctual panic that overrode his training. He was asking a wolf to fire on the face of his own Alpha. "I mean... they look just like you and Jax. And..." The scout swallowed hard, looking physically ill as his trembling finger pointed deeper into the shadowed cavern.

"The sweeper. What's he packing?" "Concealed piece under the uniform jacket," the scout said, adjusting his lens. "Small frame. Probably a subcompact." "How's his movement?" "Predictable as hell," the scout snorted. "He’s been sweeping the same ten yards of asphalt for twenty minutes. Checks his watch every four minutes on the dot." Takahashi’s operatives were getting sloppy, acting like the pavement already belonged to them. "They're staring right at Dominic," the scout whispered. "Good. Let them eat the bait," Hugo said, leaning over the concrete ledge. "We learn their habits, we map their spots, and then we erase them."