1029 The Fall of Falcon Scott (47)
The winds were howling as they crashed into the colossal bulwark of the city wall. The soldiers of the First Army were shivering on the battlements, staring into the hazy mist of the blizzard with grim expressions. These were the lucky ones — the less fortunate were far below, on the ground, ready to defend the breaches with their lives.
Because of the ugly rifts in the defensive barrier of the city, the logistics of the siege had become much harder. Today, it was especially so, since no one knew the direction from which the titan was going to attack.
Goliath could come from the south, marching across the ravaged landscape and shaking the earth with his every step. He could come from the north, emerging from below the dark waves to attack the port fortress first. For all Army Command knew, he could even crawl from under the ground... the scope of the titan's abilities was still a mystery.
That was why the defenders were dispersed along the whole perimeter of the wall instead of congregating at one or several of its sections.
However, Sunny and Jet, as well as their two cohorts of Irregulars, had found themselves in a familiar spot — right above the main entrance of the siege capital, not too far away from the Nightmare Gate that had torn through the wall not too long ago.
Sunny was sitting with his back against the alloy parapet, meditating. Soul Reaper was standing nearby, looking across the vast killing field, the landscape obscured by the veil of snow. Both were trying to ignore the whispers of the Call.
It was more than a bit annoying, to have to deal with it on top of the sickening anxiety of waiting for the start of the battle.
Sunny sighed, then looked up at Master Jet. His hair was getting in the way, so he brushed it aside. Before he could speak, she suddenly asked:
"Why don't you cut it?"
He coughed in embarrassment.
"Oh... the thing is, mundane scissors and autobarbers stopped working on me. I should probably just use a sharp Memory and cut it myself... yeah, that's what I'll do, one of these days..."
Jet looked away with a smile.
"I know a guy back in NQSC. He's very in demand, as one of the few Awakened hair stylists around. There are many Saints among his clientele, but if you want, I can get you a recommendation."
Sunny laughed.
"...Sure. When we're back in NQSC."
He remained silent for a few moments, then asked:
"How sure are you that we'll be able to destroy Goliath?"
Soul Reaper hesitated.
"As long as you pull off your part of the plan, pretty sure. Bloodwave will step in if something goes wrong, too. It's a shame that Sky Tide is away fighting the Winter Beast again... but we should be alright without her."
Sunny nodded.
"I think so..."
However, Jet interrupted him by raising a hand. He grew quiet and raised an eyebrow.
She looked into the darkness with a calm expression.
"Listen."
Sunny did so, hearing nothing but the wind and the stifled breaths of the thousands of soldiers surrounding them. Then, a muffled sound reached his ears from somewhere far away.
Boom.
And then, after a long and arduous pause, again.
Boom.
Sunny stood up, staring into the blizzard. Suddenly, he felt a chill creeping up his spine.
"He's coming."
From a vast distance, the thunderous steps of the colossal giant were rolling over the world. Even though the soldiers could not see anything because of the raging snowstorm, the sound alone made them pale and grasp their weapons with trembling hands.
Boom... boom...
Boom...
Each one assaulted them, almost like a mental attack.
Jet tried to contact Army Command, then cursed when the interference made it impossible. Calling out one of the messengers, she said tersely:
"Inform the HQ that Goliath is approaching from the south. We need reinforcements here as soon as possible. Go!"
The pale-faced messenger saluted and disappeared from view, and then, there was nothing for them to do but wait.
By Sunny's side, the members of his cohort were preparing for battle. Everyone around was doing the same, and from the impenetrable white haze beyond the wall, the steps of the giant continued to boom, slowly growing louder... and closer... and much more frightening.
Boom!
And then, after a torturous span of silence, again:
Boom!
Sunny gritted his teeth, and on the battlement behind him, four shadows shivered.
Hidden in the blizzard, Goliath was slowly approaching Falcon Scott. No one could see him, but the heavy steps of the titan sounded like foreboding war drums. Soon, the ground started shaking with each of them. The tremors traveled through the alloy structure of the city wall, making it vibrate.
Sunny felt his body growing stiff, as if paralyzed by the memory of being crushed and broken by the giant's foot. Humans could not really recall pain, but remembering the feeling of being hurt was very easy, especially if one was hurt terribly. He had almost died that day... he should have died, if not for a couple of Memories and a bit of luck.
His body remembered being destroyed.
Snarling, Sunny shook off the paralyzing fear and peered into the blizzard, hoping to see the hateful shape of the walking mountain.
Instead, he just heard...
BOOM.
BOOM.
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BOOM!
BOOM!
...Suddenly, the thunderous steps stopped.
A moment later, a rift appeared in the wall of the blizzard, and for a few moments, he could see far and wide.
Sunny's eyes narrowed.
Out there at the edge of the killing field, a giant creature stood in front of the mountains. Taller than the city wall by far, the titan looked like a mountain himself — his vaguely humanoid body was broad and misshapen, made of uneven, weathered stone. He had three mighty arms, and one enormous eye that stared at the soldiers of the First Army with an alien, cold, terrifying malice. The milky eye was completely white, having no iris and no pupil.
...Behind and around the titan, a vast and dark sea of bodies was undulating as it flowed down from the slopes of the mountains. Nightmare Creatures, a stunningly large horde of them, were following the Fallen Titan.
For a moment, the world seemed frozen.
In that dreadful instant, Sunny forced himself to smile. All of it — him coming to Antarctica, marching with the First Army across its cold expanse, surviving LO49, clawing his way back north with a train of refugees, the long weeks of fighting at Falcon Scott — had been for this moment.
He looked at Goliath with murderous intensity.
'Come here, bastard...'
In the next moment, as if answering his call, the giant stepped forward.