Chapter 102 – The Red Colossus

  When Giants and Mortals Burn Out

  The Initiates didn’t get far.

  Just as they broke through the shadowy tree line, the ground trembled beneath them—then Gorm leapt. He was a behemoth, yet impossibly nimble. His shadow blotted out the moonlight as he landed ahead, blocking their path into the forest. The impact sent a spray of snow flying like shrapnel.

  The group froze, hearts racing, every muscle quaking from fatigue. After days of battling fierce beasts, enduring freezing temperatures, and bleeding through their trials, they now stood on the brink of what felt like certain doom.

  “Fall back! Circle the outpost—scatter and move!” Hopper’s voice cut through the panic like a knife.

  They struggled onward, dragging their wounded through the blinding snow—Kael slung between two Initiates, his breaths sharp and shallow. Each step was an act of sheer survival.

  But then came the scream.

  A chilling sound that pierced the howling wind. One Initiate had stumbled; a claw, as wide as a wagon, snatched him up in a terrifying flash.

  The Titan lifted him high, tilting his massive head as if studying a small creature. Blood glistened menacingly on his lips.

  The Initiate struggled violently, dangling over teeth that could slice armor like butter.

  “Damn it,” Seven hissed, dropping to one knee. He steadied his trembling arm, focusing on the chaos in front of him as mana surged into the rifle, making it vibrate with energy.

  The shot rang out—a crack that echoed in the stillness—and then struck true.

  The round hit Gorm’s hand, exploding into a burst of blue light. The giant roared in fury, releasing his prey. Hopper dashed forward, catching the stunned Initiate in mid-fall, yanking him to safety just in time.

  Snow mixed with blood, falling like a grim confetti around them.

  The Last Stand Begins

  Steam hissed violently from the Nameless Wing as Seven locked a new cell into the chamber. The weapon shuddered, runes pulsing with a dim light—it was alive once more, but just barely.

  Fluffy emerged in a whirlwind of pink and silver, her Sweet Step slicing through the snow with precision. She darted between Gorm’s colossal legs, her battered blades drawing faint lines across his flesh, sparks erupting where metal met skin.

  “Keep him busy!” Seven yelled, his heart pounding.

  The response came as a thunderous roar that shook the very mountains. Snow exploded outward in a shockwave, bending the trees like reeds.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  In the cover of the treeline, Hopper crouched with a taut bowstring, arrow glowing with blue energy. He released the shot—it flew straight and true, striking Gorm’s chest and detonating into a brilliant burst of light that forced the Titan to reel back a step.

  “Nice shot!” Brinley cheered from the wreckage of the outpost.

  “Don’t celebrate yet!” Seven barked, frantically loading another cell. “We’ve just made him angrier!”

  With a primal growl, Gorm swept his claws low—a destructive avalanche in motion.

  Seven dove, but it was too late. The blow clipped his side, sending him spiraling through the air. Sky—ground—sky—ground—then a violent crash as he collided with the remnants of a wall; metal shrieked, and everything went white.

  Pain exploded into his vision. Any ordinary person would have crumpled into a bleeding heap, but Seven was far from ordinary—and the realization of that terrified him more than the thought of death.

  “Seven!” Fluffy gasped, her voice a frantic thread.

  “Still breathing,” he managed to croak.

  Erika skidded to his side, her shield now nothing but a mangled rim. “Hold still,” she commanded.

  “What—”

  Without waiting for a response, she seized his arm and yanked it back into place, a pop echoing louder than his cry of pain.

  “Better,” she stated flatly.

  “Define better,” Seven rasped, fighting through the haze of agony.

  The battle raged on, and they would need every ounce of strength they could muster.

  The Titan lunged again, feral and wild—instinct given flesh. His claws churned the ground, hurling frozen earth like shrapnel.

  “Fluffy!” Seven shouted. “Circle him!”

  The bunny warrior moved, exhaustion etched into every step. Her blades scraped glowing lines across the Titan’s leg. Hopper’s arrows followed, bursting along Gorm’s chest in quick succession.

  The monster shuddered but didn’t fall.

  Seven braced his rifle against a broken beam, muscles trembling. “Come on… come on…”

  He fired.

  The shot struck the Titan’s shoulder, burning deep. Gorm recoiled with a bellow that shook the stars.

  Fluffy’s eyes went wide. “It worked!”

  “Yeah,” Seven panted, lowering the smoking weapon. “But now he’s looking at me again.”

  The Watching Eyes

  Across the ridge, cloaked in drifting snow, 76 watched through the scope of his launcher.

  “So even ants can bite,” he murmured.

  Static crackled in his ear. A calm male voice answered—measured, cold.

  “Number Seventy reporting in,” 76 said quietly.

  “Status,” came the reply. “Red compound efficiency?”

  “Fluctuating,” 76 admitted. “Amplifies aggression perfectly, but coherence collapses too fast. The Titan’s burning out.”

  “Unacceptable,” 70 replied. “We need stability before reaching the Vault.”

  76’s eyes narrowed. “Still chasing your ocean myth? You’ll drown before you find that ‘forbidden fruit.’”

  A soft chuckle. “And yet you keep testing for me. Finish your data. Then rendezvous at Site Delta.”

  The line died.

  He exhaled, cold mist curling from his mask. Below, he watched Seven’s last shot strike the Titan.

  “Interesting. Humans from another world adapt faster than expected. In time, they’ll outgrow this world’s predators.”

  The number on his neck pulsed—blue, then red, glitching between both before fading.

  He melted back into the blizzard and vanished.

  Down in the valley, Hopper caught a flicker of that glow. “What the… another human?”

  He blinked—and it was gone.

  The Giant’s Rage

  Gorm’s roar rolled over the world, low and guttural, the sound of exhaustion and fury tangled together.

  The red glow in his eyes dimmed, then burned hotter. Steam poured from his skin; his massive frame trembled from the strain. The full moon above fed him even as it devoured his stamina.

  He was burning himself alive.

  Seven barely rolled aside before another claw strike split the ground. Shards of ice cut across his cheek.

  Fluffy sprinted up the Titan’s forearm, using her swords as climbing hooks. Each stab flared with the last of her mana, carving glowing gouges into flesh.

  Gorm howled, flinging her off. She hit the snow hard beside Seven, coughing blood.

  “He doesn’t like me much.”

  “Join the club,” Seven said, dragging her behind the wall. His bionic arm sparked weakly. “Next time I shoot him—remind me not to shoot him.”

  Erika limped over, clutching her cracked blade. “No more running. We end it here.”

  The Titan’s shadow swallowed them, vast and final.

  Seven lifted the battered rifle. “Then let’s make it count.”

  They regrouped among the outpost ruins—bruised, frostbitten, soaked in sweat and snow. Their breath came in heavy white clouds. Hopper nocked another arrow.

  Fluffy spat crimson, spinning her dulled blades. “Round two.”

  The Titan loomed over them, claws sunk into the earth, breath steaming like a furnace. He opened his mouth; the roar to end all roars built in his chest.

  Seven slid an mana cell into the rifle and forced power through it until the runes screamed.

  “Everyone hit it at once,” he said quietly. “If it doesn’t fall… run.”

  Erika tightened her grip. “On three.”

  “One.” Fluffy bent her knees, ears flat.

  “Two.” Hopper drew his bowstring until it hummed.

  “Three.”

  The night erupted.

  Arrows, bullets, and raw mana lit the dark like sunrise.

  Their combined strike hit Gorm square in the chest—a storm of color, light, and desperation colliding with a god’s wrath.

  For a single heartbeat, the world went silent.

  Then the Titan moved.