Vader Upgraded Suit Novels & Stories

DING! His augmented display materialized before him, the items tab flashing with the newly acquired suit. Keagan eagerly tapped on it, and as if by magic, the suit materialized before his very eyes. Like an ethereal serpent, it slithered up and down his body, conforming to his every contour with a snug fit. The fabric hummed with power, pulsating with a vibrant energy that seemed to resonate with his own spirit. A surge of exhilaration coursed through him as he marveled at the transformation. The suit felt like a second skin, empowering him with a newfound sense of capability.

Xander stood by his side, both were looking worriedly at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he called back at Mordecai. “You’re just messing with my head.” Dorin’s eyes widened. The people moving towards Dorin fell to the ground, the air knocked out of them. “Now, we continue.” Dorin faced Mordecai once more. He had always loved fighting strong opponents. It means he could let it all out and fight with his real strength, but with his id now in his Phasma core, he was able to calm himself as he continued the duel.

I leaped down from the hatch, my knees buckling slightly as gravity fully reasserted itself, and slammed into his arms. "I told you I'd bring it back," I laughed, my voice raw, burying my face in his grease-stained lab coat. "You brought it back dented," my father choked out, tears shining behind his cracked glasses as he squeezed me tight. "But I'll let it slide this time." Behind me, the Vanguard emerged from the pod. They looked like they had crawled out of a mechanical hell. Their matte-black Abyssal breach suits were scorched, dented, and covered in deep-sea grime.

“Everything was fine. There’s no problem.” “That’s good,” Valtor said, though his voice suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced. “I’ve been looking for you. We need to talk.” My mother gave a small nod, dismissing us, and the two of us slipped away from the hall. The noise of the crowd faded behind us and with each step, the air felt clearer. Breathing in his scent eased the last threads of tension coiled inside me. I stole a glance at him, unable to help myself. He looked devastatingly handsome tonight. Apparently, Rogues didn’t wear white for ceremonies like this. Valtor’s suit was a deep, raven black, expertly cut and fitting his body with perfect precision.

/ [Yup. While Vlad dried his hair with the towel, she noted how his black pajamas was a lot more decent than hers. His arms and legs were covered up. The only revealing part was the V-neck that dipped halfway down his abs. His exposed chest stood out even more as his fair skin was a stark contrast against the colour of his pajamas. "Does your offer still stand?" She asked out of the blue. "What?" He paused in his motion. "To bring me to places where I can fight and become stronger."

It was a stark contrast to the black bloodstains he had just scrubbed from beneath his fingernails at the studio. Sora glared at the reflection of Vardan standing tall behind him. The man looked flawless in his expensive black suit. There were no traces of scuffs or exhaustion after the brutal transformation of the previous night. Only a radiating, powerful dominance remained. Vardan was a predator who had washed his claws just before appearing on camera. "You’re destroying my life more effectively than any silver bullet," Sora hissed. His jaw tightened until his cheek muscles twitched.

Though here, in the past, the eyes seemed like glittering rubies which made a person feel happy and relaxed rather than a dark bloody pool that gave a person the creeps. Vathar’s skin was the colour of sun-warmed bronze, gleaming in the filtered light of the grove. Loose strands of black hair fell messily across his slightly bushy brow, tousled and soft. He wore a loose, white tunic and black trousers tucked into worn boots, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He looked like a proper young man, not at all the Dark Lord that had attacked him and Zedekiel some months ago in the mountains. Eron rolled his eyes fondly and knelt beside them. He tickled the leaf with a gentle finger. “He’s bullyi

Vulnerable. His tactical vest was gone, ripped away in the previous skirmish. He stood in a torn black t-shirt and combat pants, his left arm—the Obsidian Hand—pulsing with a dangerous, unstable violet light. The cracks in the black crystal were spreading up past his elbow. "You're ugly, Val," Jack said. He rolled his shoulders. "You used to be the pretty one. What happened?" "Power," Valerius flexed, and the air rippled. "Evolution is rarely aesthetic, Jack. It is efficient."

I was a street thief raised in the slums, and survival pulsed through my veins, demanding one thing. Move. Or die. That morning, the elderly healer finally nodded in approval and declared that the wounds had fully closed. Zade was already waiting by the door. He looked as dark and commanding as ever, but beneath his composed expression, that familiar burning tension still lingered between us, ever since the kiss. I slipped into the fitted black leather combat suit he had given me and strapped my familiar shadowsteel daggers to the custom holsters on my thighs. Without a word, he tilted his head for me to follow.

"Your signature is leaking like a cracked battery. If you keep spiking, the whole Citadel will wake up." I turn. Silas Vance stands behind me, but the scarred warrior I remember from the server basement is gone. He’s replaced by a man who looks like he owns the city’s skyline. His heavy iron cloak has been traded for a sleek, digital-fabric suit that shifts color from charcoal to deep navy. His cybernetic gray eyes pulse with a faint, rhythmic light as he monitors the drone’s path. "Silas," I whisper, my throat tight. I touch the cold surface of his sleeve. The fabric is smooth, almost frictionless. "How did you find me?"