Female Armored Titan Novels & Stories

It was a brutal, beautiful piece of engineering designed to fit over her massive right forearm and fist, leaving her thick fingers articulated for grappling. When the final buckle was tightened, Chausiku stepped back, wiping the soot from her brow. The entire Forge fell silent. Dozens of blacksmiths stopped their hammering, turning to look at the titan in the center of the pavilion. With the dark, gold-veined pauldron resting on her shoulder and the heavy stone collar at her throat, Mwajuma did not look like a refugee from a broken world. She looked like a god of war carved directly from the bedrock.

It was the Mother’s face, but it was melting, her code corrupted by the ship’s destruction. "IF THE EXPERIMENT CANNOT BE ARCHIVED, IT MUST BE CRUSHED," the Mother’s voice boomed, sounding like the grinding of a million gears. The woman with the spear stood up, her face pale. "The Titans," she whispered. "The Mother is waking the old 'Terraforming-Walkers.' She’s going to flatten the coast." Elara looked at her pack. They didn't have their powers. They didn't have their armor. They only had their raw, human hands.

While the bloodhunts retreated to dark and gloomy underground caves. The witborns have overpopulated Dianium, compared to the fellhounds and the bloodhunts. They advance in knowledge and new technology, compiling codexes and conducting studies to maintain their defenses against the other races. Dianos, the moon titan, gave the witborns the gift of air and water power technology. With this knowledge and means, they have constructed what is called the Tink Tank. A Tink Tank is a steam-powered full armor that is worn and controlled mechanically by the wearer. It is a battle suit with enlarged limbs to raise up the strength of the witborn wearer.

Matthan smirked as he walked to them with four praetorian guard carrying the Red-blooded armour at the rear. Flavius and Herminia looked back. Their eyes focused on the Red-blooded armour it was their second time seeing it, the first was during the ritual. How would the armor fits Flavius or Herminia? That would be the question on every first timer Humanes there spectating at the Colosseum, fortunately the armor as another ability to adjust itself suiting the wielder whichever the height or weight maybe. “We welcome, the new Cohort of the EXTERMINATOR… Herminia!”

Vane raised his crystalline scepter, slamming the base of the staff against the violet alloy floor. Deep within the central sphere, a massive, pressurized piston groaned. The thousands of dormant geometric towers across the vault began to slide open, exposing thousands of pristine, black crystalline containment pods. Inside each pod hung a fully matured obsidian titan—not the basic infantry beasts from the palace, but massive, armored vanguards with three glowing purple eyes and scythe-claws that ran the length of their entire limbs. "You destroyed the factory upstairs, little Queen," Vane laughed, a maniacal sound that rattled the obsidian pillars. "But the true army was always waiting here

Whoever it was didn’t announce himself—he arrived, like a wave crashing over polished stone. Then came the voice. “I am Prince Auren of the Obsidian Wing. Dragon shifter. I come bearing allegiance… and a proposal for your Alpha Queen.” And there it was. Again, I could picture what he looked like. Tall, powerful, cold-eyed but noble, draped in obsidian-black armor or robes that shimmered like scales. His voice carried centuries in it. Old magic. Deep heat. Dragons didn’t kneel. They didn’t bow. They certainly didn’t propose.

Forsaking the ability to be a man would be far easier. Ashrac's newest toy is a drone used by the earth realm's U.S. military, or so he tells me. It doesn't work, but Ashrac broke it down and rebuilt it so he knows everything it can do. Acasia explained over tea that Dmitri, an earth realm vampire and friend, is creating documentation so Ashrac can attend one of earth's scientific colleges in about twenty-five years. It will be good for him.

Their heads were sensor clusters glowing with a singular red eye. Their right arms ended in rotary cannons. Their left arms were anti-riot shock prods, crackling with enough electricity to jumpstart a city. "Titans!" Ben screamed, his voice muffled by the mask. "We can't fight those! Small arms are useless!" The Titans stepped onto the maintenance rails. They didn't need to walk the bridge; they had magnetic clamps on their boots. They walked heavily along the walls, flanking the team, their cannons spinning up with a sound like tearing canvas.

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."

I rolled under the swing. The fist hit the wall next to the elevator, punching through the reinforced concrete like it was wet cardboard. I scrambled up, using my cane as a lever. "Computer!" I yelled. "Activate corridor defense! Turrets!" Ceiling panels slid open. Automated chainguns dropped down. BRRRRRRRRT. A wall of lead hammered the Titan. It ignored them. It walked through the hail of bullets, sparks showering off its armor. It reached up and ripped a turret out of the ceiling, crushing it in one hand.