The Other Huntress (Kotallo/OC)

Chapter Eighteen: The Fall of the Bulwark

Orea's eyes snapped open, welcomed by the serene darkness of twilight. The huntress rose from her bed with the grace of a Stalker, leaving Roger to chirp peacefully in its sleep. She quickly gathered up her weapons and-fastening the straps of her Shield-Weaver-she stepped out of her chambers. Kotallo emerged from his in turn; the Marshall nodding silently in greeting. Orea followed him as he led them toward the lift, figuring his familiarity with the fortress made him a better choice to navigate the Bulwark in the pitch dark. Halfway down, Aloy met them: armed to the teeth and donning the match to Orea's Shieldweaver. The sentry beside the gate said nothing as he lowered the trio down, only casting a bewildered glance their way.

"Okay," Aloy breathed once they reached the base of the wall, "let's go." Darting across the snow, they made their way toward where the lion's share of the rebels were concentrated within the valley, eyes and ears open for any sight or sound of them.

"We're getting close," Kotallo murmured, crouched beside Orea. "Our scouts have seen large numbers of rebels gathering in this area, although for what or why, I don't know."

"Then we'd best keep a look out-" Orea's halted as a shrill blare rang vaguely through her ears, alongside the heavy thump of metal. What. Is. That?

"What's wrong?" Kotallo asked, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I hear something, some sort of machine,"

"Where?" Aloy questioned.

"Toward the river bend. Whatever it is, it's big."

"And I'll bet it has cannons. We'll follow your ears, Orea." Orea at the front, they crept closer  to the mystery machine, the sound of its roars growing ever-louder as they approached.

"Now that is a big guy," Orea gaped, jaw slack at the sight before her.

"It looks like the rebels just got a whole lot more firepower." Wedged between a pair of stone walls was a mammoth of a machine-its entire body decked tusk-to-tail in heavy armor, four deadly tusks encasing a thick, lengthy snout.

"A Tremortusk," Kotallo hissed, labeling the hulking automaton.

"What are they doing with it?" Aloy wondered confusedly.

"I'm not sure." The Tremortusk appeared to be overridden, the machine not the least bit bothered by the rebels swarming about it. Even more strange however, were the wooden platforms built hastily upon its back, large enough for-

"They're trying to ride it," Orea blurted, eyes wide at the realization. As if on cue, several Tenth leaped onto the Tremortusk, taking up positions on their makeshift battlement.

"Ready! Move out!" a rebel cried. The trio watched in horror as the rebels managed to subdue the machine. The Tremortusk reared up in protest at first-destroying massive chunks of the ruin it was caged within-before eventually submitting to the rebels' control, its eyes glowing a peaceful blue.

"That's not good," Aloy muttered. "If the rebels can control Tremortusks-"

"They could stampede straight through the Bulwark," Orea finished. As much as she abhorred Tekotteh, the people of the Bulwark were innocent, and the thought of their entire home trampled underneath a herd of machines curled her stomach stone-cold. "We've got to take this one out before they can figure out how to override more."

"You wanted your cannons, and that thing has them," Kotallo pointed out. "It won't be easy to take down, especially with this," he said, grasping his stub.

"But not impossible," Orea countered, gently drawing Kotallo's hand away from his wound. "Aloy, how do you want to play this?"

"Let's take out the rebels, then we'll focus on the big guy."