The three Calamity titans moved with the synchronized precision of a pack of wolves. The Striker leaned back, its iron chassis groaning under the immense pressure as it launched four rocket pods in a screaming, smoky arc. The missiles streaked through the air toward their target, but as they drew near, a shimmering kinetic field rippled around the Eradicator Mark 3. The rockets were flung away like toys, detonating harmlessly in the scorched dirt.
The Eradicator didn't hesitate. It charged with an impossible speed that defied its massive size, executing a colossal, earth-shaking jump. Mid-air, its energy blade flared with a white-hot intensity that rivaled the sun, slicing through the Striker's armored torso like aged parchment. A colossal explosion erupted from the Striker's fuel core, a fireball that sent the Eradicator skidding back across the trench.
The GDA's war machine righted itself just as the Ravager lunged through the black smoke. The beast buried the Mark 3 in a relentless torrent of purple flame from its arm-mounted flamethrower. The fire roared, a cyclone of heat that would have vaporized any other machine, but the Eradicator walked through the inferno unaffected. Its rusty armor glowed a cherry-red, hissing as it raised its arm and drove the energy blade downward. The Ravager was cleaved in two, a shower of jagged debris and fused skulls raining from the sky as the machine collapsed into a heap of scrap.
The Contemptor, the largest and most ornate of the three, saw its opening. It slammed its massive frame into the Eradicator, the sheer physical force pushing the GDA's champion back toward the very edge of the battlefield.
Far from the metal-on-metal violence of the front lines, Dr. Xenon sat in her sanctum. She tapped her chin, analyzing the combat data with a cold, clinical curiosity—until a crimson light suddenly flooded the room and a deafening siren began to wail. WARNING: PERIMETER BREACH.
Her eyes widened in disbelief as she rushed toward the main hangar. A figure was walking casually through the high-security ward, unbothered by the automated defenses. As he passed her prized creations, a dark, oily corruption bled from his footsteps, infecting the machines instantly and turning their systems a sickly violet.
The intruder was a grotesque fusion of biology and industry: The Vile Engineer.
He was draped in a dull maroon cowl that masked his left arm, his face and hands a map of exposed, veiny flesh stitched together with cold mechanical implants and a glowing optic lens. Purple tubes snaked across his body like parasitic vines, pumping energy from a rear-mounted tank into his skeletal armor. Behind a translucent chest plate, a blackened, necrotic ribcage was visible in the shadows. His left hand housed a built-in machine gun barrel, while his right arm ended in a predatory, three-fingered metallic claw.
His voice was a booming, mechanical resonance that vibrated deep in Xenon's chest. "You think me and Vile Wretched are the same people?"
The Vile Engineer tilted his head, his optic eye clicking as he stared at the floor. "Well, we're not. I am the leader of the faction. I am fascinated with your technology... after the Vile Wretched fought Eradicator Mark 4."
Suddenly, the Vile Engineer's body jerked violently. He clutched his chest plate, his metal fingers scraping against the black ribs with a screeching sound. He let out a guttural grunt of pure agony, his frame trembling under some unseen weight before he forced himself to stand straight again.
"I can't maintain this stupid energy.."
Dr. Xenon blinked, her breath hitching in fear as she watched the leader of the Awakened Army struggle. "What energy?"
The Vile Engineer slowly turned his head, his glowing optic locking onto hers with terrifying focus.
"The Void energy."