New Olympus Saga (Book 3): Apocalypse Dance Read Online Free Page A
Author: C.J. Carella
Tags: Superhero/Alternative Fiction
power into those senses, I bet you can beat her darkness trick. Or invisibility. It may take some practice, but I’m sure you can do it.>
I’d lost the fight because I hadn’t thought things through. I’d thought I couldn’t feel any worse, and once again I’d been proven wrong.
Now that was an interesting question. Christine’s theory had given me hope; before hearing it I’d been pretty much convinced we were shit out of luck. I was half-tempted to start fighting the shackles right away, to let all my anger and frustration come out and play. I’d felt my power increasing even over the few frenzied seconds I’d been fighting Baba Yaga. I might just be able to bust out.
Only problem was, when I increased my strength and speed, I’d also started to burn up from the inside out. In the middle of the fight, it hadn’t seemed all that important, but I worried that my Type Two Neo body might not be able to handle the amount of energy I was pouring into it. What happens if you put a jet engine into a regular car? Nothing good, I figured. If push came to shove, though, I’d have to go for it, and hope I didn’t burn out before I did what I had to.
More importantly, when we made our move, it would be for all the marbles, and we’d only have one shot to get it right. I was pretty sure the Ukrainians weren’t going to let me survive once they figured they couldn’t keep me contained. Even worse, that might also apply to Christine. They’d been willing to kill her once already. Win or die. I was probably being chickenshit, but I wasn’t quite ready to roll the dice. I said after a few moments of thought.
She told me all about it. It was quite a story.
It helped pass the time while we waited for the torment to start.
The Freedom Legion
FOB Spearpoint, Guanxi Province, China, March 27, 2013
If you live long enough, you get the feeling that history, even if it doesn’t quite repeat itself, often rhymes.
Olivia O’Brien, code name Artemis, looked at the Forward Operating Base with a detached feeling of deja vu. Some forty-six years before, she’d held her first command in a hill not too far away from this one, during the First Asian War. And here she was, ready to battle the Empire not for the second but the third time. The wheel kept on turning. Maybe ten or twenty years from now she’d be back in China, fighting yet another futile war that achieved nothing but churning out a new generation of casualties, orphans and widows.
Oh, the technology was different. The American unit deployed on the base consisted of elements of the 12 th Marine Mobile Infantry, soldiers in power armor suits supporting fast-moving hover-tanks that fired hyper-velocity rounds from their magnetic railguns, rounds that would kill most Imperial Celestial Warriors with a direct hit. Even the
I’d lost the fight because I hadn’t thought things through. I’d thought I couldn’t feel any worse, and once again I’d been proven wrong.
Now that was an interesting question. Christine’s theory had given me hope; before hearing it I’d been pretty much convinced we were shit out of luck. I was half-tempted to start fighting the shackles right away, to let all my anger and frustration come out and play. I’d felt my power increasing even over the few frenzied seconds I’d been fighting Baba Yaga. I might just be able to bust out.
Only problem was, when I increased my strength and speed, I’d also started to burn up from the inside out. In the middle of the fight, it hadn’t seemed all that important, but I worried that my Type Two Neo body might not be able to handle the amount of energy I was pouring into it. What happens if you put a jet engine into a regular car? Nothing good, I figured. If push came to shove, though, I’d have to go for it, and hope I didn’t burn out before I did what I had to.
More importantly, when we made our move, it would be for all the marbles, and we’d only have one shot to get it right. I was pretty sure the Ukrainians weren’t going to let me survive once they figured they couldn’t keep me contained. Even worse, that might also apply to Christine. They’d been willing to kill her once already. Win or die. I was probably being chickenshit, but I wasn’t quite ready to roll the dice. I said after a few moments of thought.
She told me all about it. It was quite a story.
It helped pass the time while we waited for the torment to start.
The Freedom Legion
FOB Spearpoint, Guanxi Province, China, March 27, 2013
If you live long enough, you get the feeling that history, even if it doesn’t quite repeat itself, often rhymes.
Olivia O’Brien, code name Artemis, looked at the Forward Operating Base with a detached feeling of deja vu. Some forty-six years before, she’d held her first command in a hill not too far away from this one, during the First Asian War. And here she was, ready to battle the Empire not for the second but the third time. The wheel kept on turning. Maybe ten or twenty years from now she’d be back in China, fighting yet another futile war that achieved nothing but churning out a new generation of casualties, orphans and widows.
Oh, the technology was different. The American unit deployed on the base consisted of elements of the 12 th Marine Mobile Infantry, soldiers in power armor suits supporting fast-moving hover-tanks that fired hyper-velocity rounds from their magnetic railguns, rounds that would kill most Imperial Celestial Warriors with a direct hit. Even the
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