Colossal Armored Titan Novels & Stories

His eyes were like fire and I matched his glare. There was a massive lightning strike behind me that caught both of our attention. Looking back, I saw a man with a similar size, build, and stature as Lucifer, only that his face seemed younger and his armor looked to be made of gold instead of metal. Zeus. The man was anything but subtle, I’ll say that. Lucifer once said that he was power-hungry, that he had more wrath than Lucifer himself, and looking at him now, he sure gives off that essence.

The environment seemed thick and full of authority. Fear gripped the lecturer, but still he stood waiting until he saw the silent motor bike through the gate. The driver was putting on an Army uniform with a rank of a Captain on his shoulder. In silence, the two rode for three minutes until the second gate automatically opened. He disembarked and then a non-uniformed guard escorted him to the exact room. The place looked very posh and expensive even the humidity changed. Nonetheless, Zitani Zulu encouraged himself to continue walking behind the guard. Two minutes, later the guard halted and spoke whisperingly in his walkie-talkie.

The wasteland didn't have the poetic beauty of the simulation’s ruins. There were no ivy-covered towers or tragic sunsets. There was only the smell of wet concrete, the skeletal remains of billboards for products that no longer existed, and the oppressive, heavy silence of a world that had been paused for twenty years. The armored transport skidded to a halt as the **Colossus** loomed over us. Up close, the Reaper machine was a nightmare of obsidian and moving gears, its many legs stabbing into the earth with the force of falling meteors.

"My father got this on my 18th birthday. Champions are different from the first-generation Mobile Armor. They're the true combat Mobile Armors. They were with the Turmann family for countless years. Those Mobile Armors created after Champions were just some soulless broken pieces. They were tall. But they can only be controlled remotely. Humans can't enter those Mobile Armors. Thus, synesthesia systems don't exist for those Mobile Armors. They're just a bunch of meaningless machines."

But it was what came behind them that truly terrified me. Three figures, each standing twenty feet tall, covered in silver armor that seemed to absorb light. They moved with impossible grace for their size, and where their feet touched the ground, the earth withered. "Titan-class hybrids," Chen whispered—she'd been conscripted as our intelligence officer, her knowledge too valuable to waste. "Theoretical only, I thought. The energy required to maintain that size should be impossible." "Unless they're using multiple power sources," I realized. "How many Moonsingers did the Council really kill? How many did they harvest?"

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.

The mechanical storm broke through the fog layer exactly twenty minutes later. The three battalions of zinc-armored constructs didn't look like human soldiers; they were ten-foot-tall, faceless blocks of solid, industrial-grade metal, their heavy chassis painted in the sterile, matte-gray lacquer of the High Council's executive security division. Their underbelly locomotion treads left deep, screaming grooves in the white titanium rails of the lift spine, and their dual-barrel kinetic railguns were already glowing with a cold, blue electromagnetic charge that turned the pink neon haze into white static. UNAUTHORIZED SECTOR REGISTRY DETECTED.

"You're the pulse. And as long as I’m breathing, the grave stays outside." The Iron-Grave didn't fire cannons. It opened its "Rib-Gates," and a single, translucent bridge of bone-and-iron extended toward the Sun-Spire. A figure stepped onto the bridge. He was a titan, standing eight feet tall, encased in armor that looked like it had been grown from the obsidian of the world's first volcano. He didn't have a face, only a mask of white bone with three horizontal slits of glowing, red light.

If I fight back, Then the Hardware-Guardian overheats and kills everyone. The Siege of the Silver God Outside, in the "Real" space of the Spire, the situation was descending into a metallic nightmare. The Hardware-Guardian that Leo had "Infected" was now a Possessed Titan. Its silver limbs were twitching with the conflict between Leo’s violet Noise and Arthur’s red Command. It was a 500-foot-tall lightning rod, discharging bolts of raw data that turned the Andean foothills into "Blue-Screens" of frozen reality.

Holding the knowledge that you can destroy the world, its unbearably heavy. "Get behind us." Atlas told his siblings, who clung to each other but complied. Atlas and I stood side by side, watching in equal parts horror and fascination as the water court soldiers banded together. In a uniform motion, they lifted their hands. The frost and ice that coated the flowers and grass melted, obeying their commands and coming together behind them. The water raised higher, melting as it collected and grew. It meshed together, forming a scaly head and two slitted eyes. Fangs dripping water hung from its mouth, and its tail coiled around the nearest fountain, fifteen feet away.