TheVeteranReader

The sky fractured. Not a storm, not a meteor, but a deliberate gash ripped into the fabric of reality, spewing forth creatures of impossible scale. Titans. Their obsidian scales glinted under the dying sun, their guttural roars shaking the very foundations of the city. I was a speck, a terrified ant caught in the path of a raging inferno.

Panic turned into a desperate scramble for survival. Families shattered, friends turned into collateral damage. The world we knew, the dreams we held, crushed under the weight of a primordial nightmare. My own loved ones – gone. Their screams, etched forever into a memory that would forever fuel a fire within me.

We fought. We clawed. Humanity, dwarves, elves, goblins, even orcs – all united in the face of annihilation. Men piloted giant metal behemoths, their ingenuity a final defiant roar. Dwarven craftsmanship imbued these machines with teeth and claws, but against the Titans, they were mere toys. Elves wove ancient magic into living trees, colossal treants lumbering into battle, their branches whipping at the Titans' flanks. Futile. Goblins, those tinkerers of chaos, unleashed rockets that carved canyons into the earth, but the Titans shrugged off the explosions like mere pebbles.

These weren't just beasts, they were heralds. The "Old Gods," they called them, creators of this nightmare. The Titans themselves - some screamed "Dragons," others "Demons," but the most chilling moniker – "Titans" – echoed through the ravaged streets, a name steeped in ancient fears and forgotten power.

Then came the darkness. Not the night, but an oblivion that swallowed me whole. Not an end, but a pause. A flicker of defiance rekindled in the depths of my non-existence. My rage, my thirst for vengeance – an ember refusing to die.

And then, a voice. A voice devoid of warmth, filled with the cold logic of a machine.

"Arkhaic Records: Activation. The host selected, fight for survival begins."

This wasn't the end. It was a rebirth. I was chosen, not just to survive, but to fight back. The embers of my spirit fanned into a raging inferno. This wasn't just about survival; it was about making the Old Gods pay, about carving a path back from the brink of extinction. The world may have ended, but my fight was just beginning.

Table of A Flickering Ember

Table of contents

Volume 1