The Warp Warhammer Novels & Stories

I rasped. Arwan looked away, hiding his emotionless face, “Very correct, keep reading.” “In the year 1770, a war broke out between the lycanthropic dragons against the real werewolves, dark walkers, shadow creatures, and Apex predators. All with one aim, eradicating the forbidden seed” “Wow, a lot of people want me dead,” I voiced out in sadness. “Just keep reading Melonie,” Arwan scolded.

Faster than planned. The war starts now.

I noted. ​"He did," Marcus confirmed. "He plays the ruthless mercenary, but he takes care of the men who bleed for him. It's a rare trait in a Warlord." ​Because she's not a Warlord, I thought, the phantom thread in my chest pulling taut. She's an Omega who knows what it feels like to be abandoned by her pack. ​"General Vesh!" I called out, my voice carrying over the clash of shields. ​The Warlord paused, turning the terrifying visor toward me. The entire yard fell silent. Two hundred Blackwood wolves and five hundred Legionnaires snapped to attention, waiting to see if their Alpha and their General were about to tear each other apart.

remnants were using the fallen Architect metal to build new weapons. ​The Earth was no longer a laboratory. It was a "War-Zone of the Wild." ​The Final Boarding ​"We have to take out the Lead-Ship," Leo said, looking at the wounded golden giant in the sky. "If we don't 'Close the Account,' they’ll just reboot and come back with a 'Harder' Audit." ​"We don't have a ship, Leo," Maya reminded him. ​"We have the 'Universal-Variable'," Leo said. "Ren, can you 'Warp' the whole pack?"

The mercury armor on his arm rippled, turning into liquid that dripped onto the floor. "Stop," he hissed. "You are corrupting the data." "I am showing you the truth," I said. "You aren't the end of the war. You are just the most painful part of it." The city groaned. The gears began to grind against each other, sparks flying as the rhythm of the heartbeat faltered. The Warlord let go of me, clutching his head, his form flickering between the armored victor and a broken, terrified boy. "He is in the center," the Warlord gasped, his voice cracking. "The machine... it is not protecting him. It is eating him."

This was my home for a long time, but I have nothing left here, no friends, no family, Everything swept away within the space of a couple Months. Let me start from the beginning. It is 2027 mid June. Our world has gone into crisis. Wars have been breaking out everywhere. Homes have been bombed, peoples lives lost. History, art, architecture, Everything that has been preserved and kept now lost in a cloud of smoke. This is World War III.

They took the oracle to the deepest part of the village where the rebels lived, to give him time to concentrate on divining the future that awaited them. "You must prepare for war, it is inevitable. Blood corrupts the enemy, so you must watch your necks if you want to win," that's all the oracle says, who was in the middle of what looked like a ritual. "Blood? Neck? Maybe we'll have to face vampires after all, this looks very bad," Marcus says. "I don't know, but we won't be afraid to face the people who want to harm us, so let's arm ourselves with courage and eradicate evil from the world. And if we need to go to war to achieve that, so be it," says Lyra optimistically.

Even the powers that Rena had inherited were only powers that Phinalona Taroc had been born with. The Taroc siblings were very well known in all of the Seven Realms. King Gareth, their father had ruled over the Southern Elven Realm for nearly three millenia. While a good chunk of Gareth's long reign had been peace filled, after the queen's mysterious death fifty years prior had only left Gareth cold and ruthless. He chose to let his subjects suffer as he suffered, losing the woman he loved had forever changed his persona.

As it left behind the cloud of specks, he swayed his left side, poking it into view, they flew back to cover it. A warping sound was heard from the vurhan's general direction and the space distortion from before appeared above the vurhan. The specks spread out and encircled the vurhan's left arm. The vurhan became aware of the pit and attempted to restrain it. It blew smoke out of its mouth, igniting them and burning them off its side.

1322 AD-Three Hundred years into the Long War A lone figure stands in the middle of the podium; he wears the bright red cloak of an official, and a medallion bearing the crest of the old war god, Mars. He takes deep breath and bellows to the crowd “CAPUA!!! ARE YOU READY!!!!!”