No Longer
As the first flakes of snow landed on Jocelyn’s parka, the generator spluttered and died. ‘Shit,’ she spat. She tried to brush the flakes from her sleeves, but for every crystal she banished two more fell from above.
Cold Blooded
Despite the miracles Biomarqs could pull with flesh, no amount of gene-splicing and meat-dicing matched up to a magnetically accelerated round nearly clearing 2,000 metres per second.
Altar
It’s two in the morning and the storm is howling beyond the door. The Partisan kneels on a mat in a narrow box, staring into the curtain.
Fracking Hell
I understand your reluctance to believe us, but [redacted] is incapable of lying. Neither mentally, nor physically. Otherwise, his eternal soul would be in peril.