Voltron Suits Novels & Stories

As the two unleashed their full power despite being in a pocket dimension the sheer power of the two was even felt throughout New Dawn. Victor smiled praising his son for gaining more power than any of his peers could ever hope to achieve but none could ever hope to beat him in a contest of strength especially with the infamous Arc-Zero battle suit. The Arc-Zero is the 6th generation ancient war suit built during the golden age, it was big and somewhat bulky for any normal knight to wear. Victor was the only Knight to have successfully worn the suit without it ripping the wearer apart, but the suit had one ability that set it apart from the rest of its sister suits.

Damian asked, indicating him and Tracy. “I want you two to double down. Get everyone you can to this press conference.” “On it,” they said unison. “Look at you,” Captain Whitlock marveled. “You aren’t that little punk ass kid anymore, huh?” “No, I’m not.” About an hour later, everything was in place much to Captain Whitlock’s satisfaction. Lucien’s suit had been delivered and he was upstairs changing. It was a peak-lapel three-piece suit from Gucci with a subtle diamond print and a shirt and tie in two different types of vertical stripes. A crisp, white shirt completed the look. Steve, of course, sent along some dazzling extras. A burgundy pocket square, a vintage tie pin, some of Gucci’s ag

Temperature: -60°C. The Valkyrie (a prototype VTOL dropship stolen from the Syndicate and repainted) roared through the blizzard. Inside, the Shield Team was gearing up. They weren't wearing rags anymore. They wore Mark V Exoskeletons—sleek, insulated, powered armor designed by Sterling Corp. Jack checked his heavy rotary cannon. "I hope they have heat... I hate the cold." "Approaching target," the pilot announced. "Station 5 is dark. No heat signatures."

The suits were ready in two days. They were this full-body, extremely fitting like-a-second-skin, midnight blue, superhero-like suits. They clung to the bodies of the soldiers like wet polyester and were as tough as metal when struck from the outside. However, they weren't heavy neither did the soldiers feel like they were wearing the toughest and strongest uniform on earth. Impenetrable.

Many of them wore armor as well. “I don’t care who you are or what your background is. The Iron family’s Cooter Armor has been exchanged with Tyr and Dragun Squad. Hence, I will never allow anyone else to snatch the armor in Southern Sea City, as that is against my family’s rules.” Vulcan’s wrist was covered in a thick layer of wrist armor at the time, and it gave people a cyberpunk vibe from the looks of it. “If you don’t have a death wish, get the f*ck out of here right now!” he said sternly to Grenn and others.

He unzipped it, revealing stacks of what looked like black fabric. "And one more thing," he said, pulling out a tactical vest and a pair of trousers. "I know the toll the transformations take on your equipment. It’s hard to lead a revolution when you’re constantly scavenging for clothes." I ran my fingers over the material. It felt cool, like silk, but as soon as I applied pressure, it firmed up, resisting my touch. "When your bone structure expands during a shift, the suit expands with you. It won't shred; it becomes a second skin that retracts perfectly when you return to human form."

“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.

“No, I’m not.” About an hour later, everything was in place much to Captain Whitlock’s satisfaction. Will’s suit had been delivered and he was upstairs changing. It was a peak-lapel three-piece suit from Gucci with a subtle diamond print and a shirt and tie in two different types of vertical stripes. A crisp, white shirt completed the look. Jason, of course, sent along some dazzling extras. A burgundy pocket square, a vintage tie pin, some of Gucci’s aged metal rings, a watch, and a snake belt buckle completed the look. After showering, shaving, and slicking his hair back, Will donned his armor. He took a look at himself in the mirror. He looked like a powerful villain in a superhero movie.

Mina said looking at the four golden warriors who were flying above them protectively. “What have you done? You have ruined everything, if my daughter dies because of your stupidity I will rip you to shreds and feed you to the sharks.” Triton said as his powers surged and water came from out of nowhere lifting him into the air. His hieroglyphics glowed not just blue but also gold, his trident appeared in his hand along with a golden crown that formed on his head.

The wave of pain brought tears to Ike's eyes, and he wiped the drops from his cheeks as he headed toward his travel cases. Heading to the far side of the room, Ike crouched in front of the massive trunk he'd brought with him. As he cooled the fire inside of him, he opened his case and stared at the living armor of Albeon. The thick fabric pulsed with a heartbeat and energy, begging to be worn. The thin coat of the material actually hummed with life. Ike picked up the helmet and studied the face shield.