The Grey Chronicles Part Two: Under Siege.

Chapter 24: And Eat It Too.

Nephilim encampment on Apostle Nine, planet's surface, January of 360 BL.

"Everyone on the shuttle!" Augustus started dragging Aela up the ramp by her arm, his voice hiding his fear. Aela refused to move, then her arm was ripped from his grasp as she sprinted down the ramp towards her brothers. He turned to follow her, but the sight of the Titanus terrified him; both were several stories tall and built like brick houses in platemail. One had its right eye scratched out, a scar ripped across his cheek and forehead. Augustus couldn't take a single step towards them. He locked eyes with his brother, and an unspoken plan formed between them; Aela would grab her brothers, Augustus would get the shuttle running so they could escape, and Salem would hold off the Titanus.

Aela wasn't the only one rushing headlong into the fray; a ten-meter-tall flaming giant roared, his feet crashing into the ground directly in front of her. Her brothers darted to one side, clearing the way for Salem to engage. For obvious reasons the Titanus refocused their attention from the triplets they'd been chasing to the screaming fireball that looked like it wanted to eat them.

Salem closed the gap to his opponents in two steps and a jump; his right arm came back, his left curled protectively in front of his torso prepared to block. The Titanus split, stepping apart so he was forced to turn his back on one of them. Salem chose the uglier of the two, the one with the scar, and smashed his palm into the side of its face. The gray, scaly skin blistered on contact with the car-sized fireball, but healed as quickly as it was wounded; the Titanus' healing capabilities was what made them formidable, Stonehaaryn scientists concluded after vivisection that their nervous systems transported hormones from the pituitary gland that allowed them to regenerate damaged tissue. Cutting off their spinal cord from their bodies was found to be the best way to kill them, but Salem preferred cutting off the whole head.

His opponent recoiled in pain, but recovered as his companion wrapped four arms around Salem's torso and pinned him from behind. His skin burned, but he held on nonetheless. Scarface raised his hands to grab Salem; not the avatar, but the figure wriggling inside of it. Salem reacted by pushing backwards, laying his weight on the Titanus holding him and forcing him to choose between leaning backwards to lift Salem's feet off the ground or fall over onto his back. He chose the former, and Salem kicked Scarface in the center of the chest, simultaneously shoving the both of them over anyways. Salem's avatar was surprisingly heavy, and felt like fifty tons of red-hot bricks when he landed on the Titanus' chest. The Titanus released his grip, and Salem rolled away from his grasp and pounced on the stunned giant; he wrapped his hands around its throat and squeezed, the heat burning away the flesh faster than it could regenerate. He leaned into it, shifting all his weight onto his opponent's throat until his hands sank through his victim. He felt the monster's spine in his fingers as its hands grasped his blazing wrist, throwing weak punches to make him release his grip. Salem wrapped his fingers around the backbone and pulled as hard as he could, snapping through it and separating its head from its body. He smiled, though his victory was short-lived; Scarface had drawn his weapon, a mace as massive as it was menacing crashed into Salem's avatar, throwing his body thirty meters where he rolled in the dirt. As the Shepherd was recovering from the blow he felt a familiar heat; when he opened his eyes, his avatar was red, not yellow. His glee and excitement had been replaced by rage; how dare this monster lay a hand on him? How dare he think himself worthy of combat with the Shepherd? Salem felt the hunger, an insatiable bloodlust that filled him whenever he used the Shepherd. He wanted to show this weakling who he was and where he belonged; an alpha, a pack leader, a king who stood atop the broken bodies of those that dared stand in his way.

The wolf's head roared and the clawed hands scrambled to stand. He stood and rushed forward again, ignoring the swinging mace, entirely focused on sinking his fangs into his opponent's throat. The mace connected with the wolf's cheek, throwing him to the side once again and dashing the avatar's head into a puff of flames. He recovered quickly, the avatar's head reformed as he darted to the side and dove at the Titanus' legs. Scarface raised his mace for a downward blow, hoping to drive his enemy into the dirt, but the ground quaked underneath him and the sky turned dark as an explosion rang out in the distance. He looked up in time to see the dome shield failing, receding to the ground as the generator died, but did not look down in time to stop the wolf from crippling him.

Salem wasn't in control any longer, the Shepherd had taken him; it had taken control of its host as it always did. Salem could not think clearly, his only thought was of blood; destroy, kill, maim, burn, consume, the thoughts filled his head and clouded his mind with the hunger of Tantalus and an appetite for destruction. The wolf clamped its jaws onto the Titanus' right knee, twisting and wrapping its limbs around the monster's calf to prevent himself from being thrown. Scarface screamed and dropped his mace, he tried to wrench the wolf's mouth open, to pry the searing fangs out of his thigh so he could escape. The shield was down, there was nothing protecting him from the artillery barrage that was sure to come, he needed to run. He needed to hide.

He would not make it, the Shepherd would never allow it. He had insulted a wrathful God, and his punishment would be death. The wolf bit down harder, his jaws snapping bone and severing Scarface's leg. The Shepherd knocked his victim off of his feet and sat on his stomach, puddles of metal formed in the Titanus' armor where the Shepherd touched it. His hands melted through the plate, dripping molten steel onto the monster's chest, and his prey screamed in agony once again, staring into the gaping inferno between the wolf's fangs. That image of that inferno was burned into his retinas (both literally and figuratively), and he screamed for the last time as the Shepherd engulfed him.

Augustus grabbed the Stonehaaryn shuttle pilot and dragged him back into the cockpit. The inside of the shuttle was massive; a single room made up the majority of the ship, with two large chairs in its center. This ship was made to house the Titanus overlords, there was a small cargo bay that served as a bedroom for the servants, otherwise the ship was bare. The Titanus did not pilot the craft; that was beneath them. The shuttle housed a pair of Stonehaaryn pilots and several servants to cater to their masters. Augustus pulled the man into the cockpit and shoved him down in his seat.

"Start the ship and prepare to take off. The shields will be down in thirty seconds, if we aren't in the air in thirty-two I will personally feed you to a Jaegerhund," Augustus screamed as he ran back out of the cockpit towards the ramp. He took count of every prisoner, making sure all of them were on the ship. They were only missing one, the squadron leader Korana. He looked down the ramp to see her sprinting onto it, just in time; the ramp started to rise as her feet touched it, and the blue sky wavered and turned black as the shield died. An explosion shook the ground, the blue stream ahead of them flickered and dissipated; their time was up.

"Take off NOW!" Augustus looked to his brother, but shook the idea from his mind; the Shepherd had him, he was all but invincible for the time being. He would survive the shelling, the reserve forces for the Nephilim army would not; with their reinforcements dead, the army camped out in no-man's-land would be forced to either retreat or be annihilated. As he had the thought he knew that his father would be ordering an assault on the outer perimeter of the camp, while the cannons were loaded and positioned to fire.

"We're out of time, get us off the ground and into the air!" The ramp closed, and Augustus did a final head count, coming up three short. He furrowed his brow, he'd counted all the prisoners, including their squad leader. They were all accounted for, and his brother was duking it out with the overlords, who could be missing?

Then it hit him; the triplets, they were still outside. They'd been left behind.

He left them behind.