V For Vendetta Graphic Novels & Stories

Vandel took out a pint of blood and drunk it heavly. “Fine. But your gonna need this” Vandal tossed two yellow balls to Scott. “What are these?” Scott asked. “Sun grenades. Perfect for killing any vamps that turn on you. Just remembers you only get to use each of them once.” “Thank you.” “Thank me by taking that spoil bitch out of power. Ever since her mom disappeared she’s been talking most of my proceeds?” “Now, I make a call” Moments pass as Vandel escorts Scott and Sardonyx outside the club in the princess granted.

Kael’s voice barked from the darkness. From the ridges above, over a hundred armored figures clad in the blood-red crest of the Southern High Council descended like vultures. At the forefront marched Commander Vane. He was a towering Alpha, his armor polished to a mirror sheen, carrying a massive, double-handed broadsword that gleamed under the blue light of the Null-Stones.

a gravelly voice demanded. “Luna’s blessing.” Inside, the warehouse was filled with racks of modified firearms and enchanted blades. The air smelled of gun oil and something metallic and magical. The proprietor, a grizzled vampire named Viktor, leaned against the counter. “Calder Thorne. Haven’t seen you in a while. I heard you've been busy,” he said, grinning to reveal fangs. “I need gear. Silver-resistant body armor and weapons.” Viktor disappeared into the back and returned with a tactical vest made of dark, woven material. “Kevlar threaded with obsidian and moonstone. It won't stop a direct silver bullet, but it’ll slow it down enough for your healing to keep up.”

Celine POV The penthouse hadn’t changed since the last time I saw it, Same floor-to-ceiling windows. Same dark wood, same cold marble, same view of a city that had taken everything from me and given nothing back. A woman in a gray suit stood waiting by the door with a tablet in her hands. “Miss Russo. I’m Petra, head of staff. I’ll show you to your room.” “Room,” I repeated. “ I hope it is room for me alone,”

a gruff voice snapped from the back of the van. Garrett shifted his gaze to the rearview mirror. Three heavy-set, heavily scarred mercenaries were crammed into the back cargo space, surrounded by duffel bags filled with silver-laced weaponry and tactical restraints. The man who had spoken, a massive rogue wolf named Vance, leaned forward, his face twisted in frustrated anger.

They’d spent the last hour scrolling, debating, vetoing, and finally settling on a theme that felt right. Black and crimson as the base—bold, powerful, unmistakably vampire. Silver and deep violet as accents—nodding to Liora’s shadows and Seraphina’s precision. Leather and charcoal gray for texture and edge—Ravenna’s influence. Crimson, silver, and deep violet woven into every piece. And the wristbands—custom leather cuffs, each with intricate vampire fang designs embossed in silver and deep violet thread, charcoal gray backing, crimson stitching. Subtle. Symbolic. Undeniable.

Weapons racks line the concrete walls, heavy with custom silver daggers, war-axes, and military-grade assault rifles. A tall, broad-shouldered wolf with scarred skin and grey-streaked fur descends the iron catwalk above us. Maestro Vance holds a heavy silver broadsword in his right hand, his scent smelling heavily of gunpowder, blood, and burnt cedar. “I saw your transport pull up from the security feeds,” Vance grunts, his piercing grey eyes locking onto me as he steps onto the concrete floor. “You’ve grown broader since you survived the Whitmore slaughter, Chika.”

"Victori‍a thinks she h​a​s w‌on because she sep​arated us. S​h‍e thinks I’​ll hide, that I’ll⁠ trade⁠ the d‌eeds for his‌ l​ife, or that‌ I’ll si‌mply fade awa⁠y into the⁠ shadow of the empir⁠e like a forgotte‌n footn​ote. S⁠h​e’s‌ wrong. I​’‍m going to show her exactly what happens w​he‍n you take a preda‍tor away from the onl​y person who can keep its rage from consuming the entire w‌orld‍." I looked down at the em⁠pty p⁠a‌g‍e in‍ the led⁠ger. I didn't write a coord‌inate. I didn't write a name. I dre‍w a symbol—the‍ mark of the Chen, t‍h‍e anci​ent, f​orbi‍dden character for *Venge‌ance*. It looked jagged, hungry, and alive​ under th​e dim int⁠erior l⁠ig‌ht of the car.

The sharpness of the jagged, diagonal lines gave the mech the impression that it was a war god descended from the heavens. "Hm, though it looks good, I'm not sure if Vincent will like it. He has a very discerning taste." To be safe, Ves spent an entire day wracking his brain for alternate design patterns. He slept, ate and showered at the room's basic living facilities but spent the rest of his time crunching his brain. Lucky got so bored that Ves activated the guide program to release a projected ball that flew around erratically for his cat to chase around. His hard work allowed him to come up with a few viable looking designs. He made a white lightning bolt pattern to evoke a lightning go

Then the contract expires, and I can burn this cage to the ground. Suddenly, the black glass screen on the terminal flickered. A red alert banner slashed across the blue interface, pulsing with a silent rhythm. [INTRUSION DETECTED: UNFAIR ACCESS ATTEMPT] [LOCATION: VANCE ENTERPRISES CENTRAL SERVER - ZURICH] [USER: EXECUTIVE LEVEL CLEARANCE] My breath stopped. Someone inside Vance Enterprises was currently trying to bypass the Kael Syndicate's freeze order using a stolen master key code, a code that only two people in the world possessed.