Voltron Suits Novels & Stories

“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.

With one glance, I knew he was the perfect mark. He exuded power and danger, draped in a suit that whispered wealth—a custom-made masterpiece worth around one-hundred thousand dollars. The Alexander Amosu Vanquish II Bespoke suit fit him perfectly, showing off a lean, muscled build that spoke of both discipline and strength. His hair, thick and dark, was meticulously styled, he likely spent a fortune on maintaining it.

It was a good thing I did because Troi was already there entertaining three of the warrior elders. I was proud of how quickly Troi got ready. They were wearing a dark pair of pleated pants with a cream colored blouse and a deep purple vest adorned with stitched crescent moons. They had a relaxed air about them as they stood and calmly chatted away about some of the promising new trainees.

Are they wearing the black tactical suits with the silver crests? Yes, Buzz shouted over the screaming sirens. The heavy vanguard gear. We cannot penetrate the front lines. Those are the Mark Four tactical suits, Valerie said, a cold, mocking smile touching her lips. I know those suits. I designed the trauma overlay for the Blackwood guard two years ago. Killian thinks his men are invincible, but they have a massive, fatal design flaw. Dominic stopped, his dark eyes locking onto hers. What flaw?

He didn’t know how long this magic shield could survive to protect them all? It had been a long time since Zach had heard from Edmund Brighton. It was said that he was swamped distributing weapons of war. Zach himself was currently wearing a battle suit made of dragon skin handcrafted by the Dwarves. His sword had been forged by the dwarves and soaked by a dragon potion. But his feelings were constantly restless and uncomfortable. Something felt not right. Zach sensed that something was wrong. However, his worries were probably unfounded since he already had all the most powerful preparations a human could make.

"At your command, I have modified a few details that you want, my Lord". The personal tailor helped him try on his tunic. "…Oh look, it really suits your hair color. " Viloustra looked at himself in the large mirror, touching the fabric of his suit with his small hand. It's really soft, like water running through fingers. The suit was a deep blue like the sea and it undeniably made his white hair distinct.

Arthur, the Eighth Brother. He looked like a man who had spent his life building bridges of steel while his brothers built bridges of starlight. He carried a cane topped with a simple silver wolf’s head, and behind him stood a legion of soldiers in "Null-Armor"—suits designed to absorb kinetic energy and ground it into the earth.

Doom reacted. "Well, not going to lie, the sleeve part is my favorite. Also, the color palette is simple and uncomplicated," I once remembered I painted myself wearing all of the suits in each class. The bolt blue Keeper suit with elbow-length sleeves and hip-length cut, which I used to wear when I was a Keeper 9 years ago. The red-purple gradient Weaver suit with cropped layers, geometric cuts, and patterns made my complexion dark. The Herald's yellow-green long ankle-length fit with random ribbons on its sleeve—which I was accustomed to for the whole nine years—didn't make any impact on me. And wearing black and white leathery, single-sleeved, armor-like suits makes me look young and edgy.

I nodded at her in agreement. When I'd finished my sandwich, I stood up and shook my limbs out. Everleigh stood by my side holding a helmet that matched my clothes. I wore a sleek, black Sparco race suit accentuated with white details. The suit was custom-made for me, only one in the world, optimising protection and comfort with just a touch of style. My brother and sister worked hard on the design. Helios worked out the specs for the suit while Khione drew it and picked the colour scheme. It was a flattering design, capturing the shape of my body perfectly while also being number one for safety. One of my favourite birthday gifts.

It’d be better to eliminate the threat himself. From what he understood, what Ronan wanted to do was send him back to where he came from. And if he could eliminate him that’d also be a favor to them who wanted him gone also. But he’s not stupid enough to go in for a fight at this moment. Even if his body was strong and he’s fast naturally given the training he’s been through, he’d need his suit before a fight, so he kept the distance. And thus Adrian realized this as well. It’s obvious that for whatever reason that made him step out of his suit meant that something was wrong with it. And it’s adjusting itself as it’s on the ground, and the sound of the mechanism clicking together could be he