The air of was filled with the sound of heavy machinery and the the synchronized rhythm of the soldier's boots. Thousands stood under the blazing sun, not one moving an inch of their body. Overhead, aircrafts hovered like silent sentinels, overwatching all thing above and below. Tanks, as large as modern houses, stook at the sides, their steel frames standing with dignity. Everyone knew what was coming: War.
Among them, countless would offer their lives for tomorrow, their blood spilled in the name of survival. Yet, not a murmur broke the silence. Not one soul wavered. They stared ahead at the raised platform—once a monument to serve as the first victory to mankind, now once again becomes the stage where history would once again be written in blood. Upon it, the general of the army stood, the Minister of Defense beside him, and behind them, towering figures—the Titans, soldiers who dwarfed their comrades, two stories tall and clad in armor designed to slay the demons.
"I believe," the minister's voice boomed, coarse and loud, "that in the grand history of mankind, we have endured and fought against the unspeakable evil that seeks to claim our world—an unstoppable plague!" His speech was fierce, matching his history as someone who stared at the great evil and returned unwavered. "We may not be them—those monsters. But we are Man! We are human! So tell me, who do we have to fear?"
His shouts reached every corner of the crowd, who listened with full attention. His words ignited their spirits, like fuel stoking cold engines. "How many have we lost? How many brave souls died before us? Yet… how many victories have we claimed? Enough to break those who would oppose us! Each victory is ours, and they have been won by the very men who stand before you today! They are the Titans, the grand defence of humanity, who fight so that we may live to die of old age. With their strength, we will bring death across the battlefield!" He raised his arms, voice rising to a crescendo. "May He who guides us protect us. Amen!"
The roar of approval that followed was deafening. Soldiers snapped into sharp salutes, and the great "War Festival" continued. Drums rolled, and the explosive sound of gunpowder echoed, marking the ceremonial march. Mu-87 "Orc Striders," massive armored vehicles, trundled down the path, their triple-barrelled turrets gleaming under the sun. Each fired shells capable of leveling entire structures with a single shot. Zt-02 "Light Eagles" cut through the skies like silver blades, their sheer speed making them impossible to track without the sharpest eyes. It was a display of pure military power, designed to intimidate any opposition.
---
Meanwhile, in the armory, Maj. Yorden Fall bored of the play of the masses, was far from the crowds and speeches, polishing his rifle. His Red Angel Titan Armor reflected the dim light around him, casting a dim red hue around him. Beside him stood Vanis Octavis, her brow furrowed as she rifled through supplies for the coming battle. She glanced at Yorden's weapon, the one crafted by her own father—Heaven's Descent, a 80-caliber HMG so large and fierce it looked more like a small artillery piece than a firearm.
"You sure, you gonna use that tomorrow? I mean even for you, it might just crack a bone or two." Vanis teased, her hands busy sorting shelves filled with supplies for the troops preparing for battle.
"It will hold just fine, Vanis... just fine." Yorden replied in his battle-worn, deep voice, though her doubt lingered. Her smile faded as she shouted orders to a nearby technician. They were running low on ammunition already, and the day had barely begun. Yorden, meanwhile, hefted another case of rounds, tossing it into place with ease.
"Yorden! Tell the old man to bring his ammunition card if you see him." He nods as he leaned down to enter the section two corridor. As he passed, new recruits cast wary glances his way. In their eyes, he was a monster sent from heaven.
Titans marched passed him and the footsteps of marines and workers moved across the corridor. The ground trembled as an Orc Strider rolled into view behind him, and Yorden gave it a signal. It halted immediately. "HQ," he called, before climbing atop it. Without another word, the Strider resumed its journey.
Despite its massive size, the Orc Strider could reach speeds of up to 70 km/h, an engineering marvel born during the era of peace, the time of development.
Traveling for a solid 2 hours, HQ was finally on the horizon, just as Yorden had grown annoyed in seeing the constant military presence, for while in that road and wherever that road leads, they are always surrounded by military space. Inside the strider, the men chatted along, commenting on the lack of decor on the place, maybe some greenery could help, they thought.
Upon arrival, the HQ dwarfed the Strider, reducing its massive form to that of an ant by comparison. The gates opened, and Yorden stepped inside. The place was familiar, except for some potted plants and a giant tree in the center of the main hall. A woman came running—Yorden's new personal assistant.
"Hayden, why the rush?" He asked.
She stopped, tired and well... running in those office suits which were not made to be so versatile, can be painfully annoying.
"They told me to rush as soon as your 'Titan' arrive." She caught her breath, clutching a cup of joe from the vending machine, at least this time it didn't pump blood tasting awful coffee.
She got up on her personal arriving assistant's hovercraft as he ushered her to follow him. Assistants were meant to follow to them to all their destinations if they were inside HQ. "Make haste, we're are going to the final phase."
After a few floors, they reached the Crimson Angel Squadron quarters. "Head count!" Four figures stood at attention, saluting.
"If you haven't personally seen my team- that red orc designed armour wearing man is Lestford, the red eagle is Descon, the red fanged beaver is Isthon and the red owl is Foster."
The introductions were brief and so was the time, the plan had to laid out to command in an hour, no formality were required in base. "No formalities?" Hayden asked.
"None required unless you're talking to the commanders."
---
The mission was clear. They would land on S82#2, a vegetative planet 100 light-years away from the Cathedral, on its eastern side near a crater. The dense forest gave the enemy an advantage, but the Titans held the upper hand wherever their eyes could see. The objective was to eliminate scout camps en route to the enemy's main base. This time however, they were not required to gather any scientific samples personally, and finally, no assistance was to be provided.
Titans generally go in blind with only a single objective in mind. But, facing a new entire species can put even the higher ups waiting in anticipation. They gathered their weapons, equipment and ammunition crates, who knows how many Hollow camps were down there. The plan was sent to command and the wait had begun.
Soon, the green light blared to notify the time of war. The Titans ran to the launch platforms, entering the 'Kepler Platform'. On the top, massive ships designed for space missions were docked in a line. They varied in size and use, but they all had one thing common, they could all hold a small city worth of people since they were made to also house Titans. The resources within could last them two years.
"Does it take long to reach places like this?" Hayden randomly asked, bored on the hovercraft.
"At least 4 months before using warp, but we are just the main force, many has already gone right after it's discovery." Smaller versions of the Titans gathered data, ensuring new planets could be exploited to their fullest potential.
After a full 20 minutes they arrived at the main launch platform, their ship—the hybrid cruiser-class ship, the Angel's Chariot—was ready. Fuel specialists and ammunition loaders had done their part.
"It'll be awhile before we return. Tell Dan to get back to his section armory; he left his daughter working again. The bastard's too focused on building that dream weapon of his," Yorden muttered as he boarded the ship. It was like watching children board a cruise ship.
"How many soldiers are they sending with us this time? Hopefully, it won't be a repeat of the last war." Isthon grumbled, still bitter about the previous conflict, as marines boarded the ship.
"The Cruise Rebellion? I doubt that'll happen again."
"They sent 4 battalions. Of course, they also sent engineers and researchers." Hayden turned around to head back as she answered, comfortable sat in her hovercraft.
As the Angel's Chariot ascended, the commander's face appeared on the screen, his dignified moustache setting the tone. His rough voice briefed the soldiers on the approaching Hollow fleet, dispatched just the day before. They were to engage and destroy its Destroyer-class ship, though caution was advised—the scouts had not sent back any data regarding the Hollow fleet. It was not going to be pretty, with the sheer amount of fighters and battleships, reinforcement was to be sent from Home Advent.
The troops were ordered to go in blind. Every pilot was expected to give their all, for they fought and would die in His name. For He who guides will protect them and their souls.
The thrusters ignited, sending fire into the depths of space. Yorden headed to the front command module, rifle in hand and combat blast knife at the ready.
"May He who guides us protects."
"Amen!"