Marshmallow's face was a mask of confusion as he stared at the looming figure of the Colonel who had appeared out of nowhere. His mind whirled with memories and unanswered questions as he tried to understand why this man was here at such a crucial moment.
"Colonel..." he muttered in a stunned whisper. "What the hell are you doing here?"
The Colonel didn't answer at all. His stony gaze swept over the battered bodies of Samantheye and Dam before settling back on Marshmallow, piercing like a blade. The long shadows of his black cloak seemed to dance on the battle-worn walls.
An unreal silence fell over the room, the very air vibrating with tension as everyone watched this unexpected new arrival. Marshmallow swallowed hard as the confusion inside him swelled like an unstoppable wave.
He remembered this guy in front of him all too well. Colonel Maximus Steelgrave, the iron man who had led the Wyolander troops in countless battles. A ruthless soldier, feared and respected by enemies, an icon of determination forged in the fires of war. But what was he doing here, in the heart of the Tower of Metal Moose?
And more importantly, what was he doing as a player in the Survivor Game?
Memories from his army days flooded Marshmallow's mind like a raging river. Colonel Steelgrave was known for his unwavering toughness, tactical skill, and refusal to accept compromises. A true iron sergeant who didn't hesitate to punish even the slightest infraction harshly. Yet beneath that steely exterior lingered the unwavering respect of his subordinates for his bravery and leadership.
Marshmallow found himself suddenly confronting a past he had tried to leave behind, one that now came back to haunt him like a specter. With an effort, he tore his gaze from the Colonel's unsettling figure and glanced at his injured companions. Dam and Samantheye looked equally stunned, their expressions wavering between relief at this unexpected assistance and concern over the implications of his arrival.
The silence dragged on like a boulder, weighing heavily on them all like a physical oppression. Marshmallow felt his breathing quicken as the inexorable seconds ticked by. Finally, he could contain himself no longer.
"Damn it, Colonel!" he burst out in a voice charged with frustration. "What the hell is going on here?"
No one seemed to care about Marshmallow's outburst. The Leader of the Novgovians glared at the Colonel with a mixture of rage and curiosity, his eyes seeming to lick like licking flames. "You, who the hell are you to interfere?" he snarled with disdain. "How dare you challenge my divine power?"
The Colonel did not respond, not at all. He remained as still as a stone statue, his mere presence emanating an aura of unflappable calm in stark contrast to the surrounding chaos. The silence weighed for a moment, broken only by the tense hiss of ragged breaths.
"Fuck this. Die!"
Without warning, the Leader hurled a blazing bolt of incandescent energy directly at the Colonel. The attack tore through the air with a deafening roar, but before it could strike, the Colonel fluidly waved his hand. From his fingers, a small sphere of mysterious dark energy formed, canceling out the adversary's offensive as if it never existed.
"What the hell...?" The Leader stepped back, eyes wide with shock. "You're an A Rank!"
At that moment, the Novgovian Strategist swiftly intervened, joining the battle. With a series of rapid, calculated movements, he and the Leader launched a coordinated assault, trying to overload the Colonel's defenses from multiple angles.
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The Leader unleashed a barrage of pure energy explosions while the Strategist summoned paralyzing rays and fluid force fields in an attempt to weaken the Colonel's black sphere, which seemed capable of negating any attack. Every onslaught was effortlessly dispelled, the Colonel's dark orb floating with lethal grace and deflecting blows with pinpoint precision.
Amidst the vortex of combat, the Colonel did not budge an inch. His figure stood firm as a rock against an unrelenting storm, his stern features betraying no emotion save stony determination. Every fiber of his being seemed concentrated on maintaining control over that eerie dark sphere, which obeyed his slightest gestures in perfect harmony.
Marshmallow watched this display of power with wide eyes, his breath catching in his throat. He could scarcely believe what he was witnessing. The presence of this man who seemed to transcend all limits. A chill ran down his spine as memories from his army days flooded back along with a whirlwind of unanswered questions.
But for now, this escalating battle demanded his full concentration. Clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white, Marshmallow braced himself, though he didn't quite know for what. Whatever Colonel Steelgrave's intentions, the priority was to follow the clash unfolding before his eyes.
Meanwhile, the Novgovian Leader gritted his teeth with rising ferocity, veins pulsing on his forehead as he realized the immense difficulty of confronting this new, unsettling adversary. With a growl charged with frustration, he hurled himself into the attack again with all his devastating power.
A tomb-like silence fell over the room, broken only by the ragged breaths of those present. The Leader and Strategist continued unleashing increasingly desperate assaults against the Colonel, now grasping the sheer challenge of taking him down.
"You fool!" the Leader snarled through bloodied teeth. "Do you truly believe you can defeat us? We are the chosen ones, the heralds of the new order!"
The Colonel, motionless as a statue, did not utter a word. His stony gaze swept over his encircled enemies with an inscrutable expression. Then, with a liquid motion, he summoned two dark spheres larger than the previous ones, ominous and roiling with unnatural power.
Without warning, he hurled them at the Leader and Strategist with lethal precision. The two foes attempted to deflect the attacks with all their remaining vigor, but the dark spheres devoured their offensives as if they never existed.
The impact was devastating. A vortex of dark energy engulfed the Leader and Strategist, swallowing them in a maelstrom of total destruction. There were screams of pure agony, followed by an unreal silence as the dust cleared.
Marshmallow held his breath at the horrific sight. Half of the Novgovians' bodies had been literally obliterated, their limbs and innards trailing in a bloody wake across the tower's battle-worn floors.
The Leader and Strategist reeked of charred flesh, their agonized forms writhing in a pool of their own fluids. But they were still alive, albeit reduced to screaming stumps.
It was then that the Colonel slowly turned towards Marshmallow, his piercing stare settling upon him like a boulder. Without a word, he raised his hand in an imperious gesture and indicated the abandoned Titan Hammer lying nearby.
Marshmallow was momentarily dumbstruck, unable to decipher the Colonel's intentions. But deep within him, a visceral, primal urge compelled him to obey without hesitation. With faltering steps, he retrieved the Titan Hammer and hefted it, arms shaking with exertion and adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
Gritting his teeth painfully, Marshmallow approached the two agonized Novgovians under the Colonel's impenetrable gaze. A dark and primordial emotion churned in his chest, a savage fury that only blood could slake.
With a roar that seemed to shake the tower's very foundations, Marshmallow raised the Titan Hammer and brought it crashing down with ferocity on the shattered bodies of his foes. The thud of that final, fatal blow echoed dully and definitively, smothering the last gurgles of pain.
Spent, with ragged breaths and trembling limbs, Marshmallow dropped the Titan Hammer and collapsed to the ground. At that precise moment, all the tensions built up during battle crashed over him like a rogue wave, compounded by the emotional turmoil of that necessary final act of violence.
The Colonel placed a massive hand on Marshmallow's shoulder. "You did what had to be done."
And as darkness closed in around him, the last image Marshmallow saw was of Colonel Steelgrave, motionless as a sentinel, his figure wreathed in an impenetrable aura of mystery.