Berserker Titan Novels & Stories

What he saw then had left him speechless. Pavan had partially awakened a dormant physique—something incredibly rare. The Berserker Physique. A brutal, chaotic body-type known for unmatched strength, terrifying stamina… and mindless destruction. According to Danial’s inheritance scrolls, the Berserker Physique was almost mythical. Usually only seen in monstrous warriors or heavily muscled body refiners. Pavan was… well, Pavan. Smart-mouthed, lean, and occasionally lazy. How he had that physique was a mystery.

This realization underscored the meticulous planning and foresight that had gone into orchestrating this massive undertaking. As I studied the caravans more closely, I noticed something peculiar about the creatures tasked with hauling these massive vehicles. [Mutant Titan Bull - Mysterious Rank] [Level 70] [Skill- Super Strength, Advanced Stamina Regeneration, Hibernation, Survivor] They appeared to be mutant bulls, possessing extraordinary physical attributes that made them ideally suited for this demanding role. Their immense strength, coupled with an advanced ability to regenerate stamina and a remarkable resilience, made them the perfect beasts of burden for this endeavor.

We drove closer. It was a small mining town. Or it had been. Now it was a ruin. The buildings were smashed. Cars were overturned. And in the center of the town standing in the middle of the road was a figure. It was huge. It was at least eight feet tall. It was covered in metal armor. It held a massive hammer. It turned as we approached. It had no face. Just a smooth steel visor. "What is that?" I whispered. "A Titan," Kaelen said. "Project Titan. The heavy infantry."

He was huge in size, eight feet tall, with broad shoulders enough to block the light of the day and arms spread like tree trunks. Scars etched all over his body which told stories of countless battles he had won. But it wasn’t his size that froze me. It was the emptiness in his eyes. Cold. Unflinching. Merciless. I raised my hands, hoping my silver aura would slow him down, make him hesitate. It didn’t. Not a flicker. Not even acknowledgment that I existed. “He can’t feel it,” I whispered, dread creeping in. Raven’s laugh was low and cruel. “Correct. Titan is immune to your gift. Rare, but not unheard of among wolves who survive long in the wild. You’ll have to fight him the old way.”

The launchers, rendered useless by the corrosive plasma, smashed directly into the side of the Titan's metal body with a beautiful crunch. The Titan's cockpit was wrenched sideways with the scream of metal, pushed to one side like a broken neck. The agile mech staggered backwards much like the Goliath had in Vietnam, sparks flying from exposed wires. The Titan, however, was more powerful than its Goliath brethren and seemed to recover from the blunt attack. It turned to face me for one final salvo. A superheavy slug struck the mech, detonating against its breached armour. The damaged mech's hull buckled with the impact and it toppled for good, command capsule soaring into the sky.

I was afraid to have a ride on this beast at first, but I trusted Eren though he tried to scare the hell out of me by burning up the road like grease lightning. Eren puts on his matte black integral helmet and springs one leg to the other side of his seat to sit on it. I admire him as he starts the mammoth machine, revving it a few times till it backfires a blue smoky light, causing a fractious pulsating sound. I must admit, Eren is a sexy badass on that monster.

The big steel scissors on its leg were clattering against the stone, cutting deep marks into the old rock. ​Elara’s white-lit eyes widened, the incandescent brilliance of her newly evolved sovereign core flickering for a fraction of a second in sheer, unadulterated disbelief. ​The silver-furred titan standing in the path of the automated army was immense, his shoulders broad enough to dwarf even the mutated, nine-foot bipedal form of Alpha Damon. His silver coat was a mosaic of jagged, ancient battle scars, his flanks caked in the dried, dark grease of prehistoric machinery. But it wasn't his size or his strength that made the breath catch in Elara’s throat. It was the raw, undeniable freque

He looked directly at Eryx. "My son," the obsidian titan said, his voice softening into a low rumble. "You carry the Lament-Steel, the weight of the grief I couldn't bear. You have used it as a shield. But to break the Ninth Layer, you must use it as a Forge-Hammer. You must strike the blueprint and finalize the Sovereign Code". Eryx stepped forward, his violet-black armor erupting in a chaotic, electric heat. He didn't look at me for permission; he looked at the unfinished slab of potential.

There's a chance it could get deeper than I thought. But I still feel that adrenaline pumping inside me. I've never felt this way before; it's like I finally have something that's truly mine. Not my wolf, not a mate, not pack approval, but mine. Curious about what else I can try out, I browse through my recipe book again, and my gaze lands on another recipe. Titan's Drink Just hearing the name gives me chills. Promises of lasting power and strength that go beyond anything. A drink that warriors used to have before heading into battle.

Pushing back the anxiety rolling off Snow, I lifted Titan's chin and sliced off his scalp before grabbing the pincers. This is awful. Why did you have to kill him? Snow rambled as I cracked open the skull. I felt her sadness, smelled her tears. "I didn't have a choice," I growled aloud, wiping the inky blood and other liquids from Titan's head and locating the black nodule he spoke of. With my fingers, I tried to pull it out, but it wouldn't come. "He's a stubborn arse, even in death." I found a set of pincers on a nearby table and used those to get under it. Taking a careful grip, I rocked back and forth to pry it loose. The nodule came out with a pop, flying into the air. I caught it in my