A platoon.
That's the size of troops I have decided to move against the Behemoth. A platoon of fifty soldiers armed with our finest gear and heavily supplied - because against a monster of this caliber, we need every advantage we can get.
The shipgirls are our decisive weapon in this urgent operation; without their firepower, we would be marching to our deaths. To strengthen our position, I've brought the Albain brothers and Ilia, along with all the aura users from the camp. Despite their lack of proper Hunter training, the fact that they had their aura unlocked makes them valuable assets on the field, giving them an edge that others don't have. Also, every regular soldier selected for this mission carries years of combat experience, veterans who have faced actual battle and skirmishes both against humans and Grimm, so I can trust them to not crack under pressure.
This is the best fighting force we can deploy, this fast, against the behemoth - and inevitably, against Atlas or the Prometheus Group. We're aware they seek the Behemoth as well, though their objectives may differ from ours.
The reality is clear to everyone involved: a battle against a behemoth will echo across the region, impossible to hide, especially given this specimen's explosive capabilities. The fight will act as a beacon, drawing others to our position and it would devolve to a three-way war, which is something I really don't want to occur at all, but we are prepared for the possibility, nevertheless.
Best-case scenario: we strike fast, eliminate the target, hoping the shipgirls' cannons possess enough firepower to kill it with one concentrated artillery barrage before retreating to base. The destroyer-caliber weaponry concerns me because they are weaker than the cruiser or battleship variants, which means they might require multiple volleys to bring down the ancient grimm. Time is our enemy; the longer we engage, the more we risk.
Once the behemoth falls, Atlas and the PMCs will lose their reason to remain in this region and leave. The area should return to a controlled state, allowing us to resume our operations and possibly start a proper trade network.
Pod remains our greatest tactical advantage, providing tactical analysis and surveillance. And that was proven once more because he was able to track down and monitor the ancient grimm which has been invaluable, and now is tracking its movement patterns, giving me real-time updates.
And no enemy forces have been detected or reported so far. Everything progresses according to plan, and I intend to maintain this advantage as long as possible.
"ALERT: BEHEMOTH TARGET HAS ENTERED CAVE FORMATION." Pod's voice catches my full attention. "ANALYSIS: MOVEMENT PATTERNS INDICATE TEMPORARY REST PERIOD."
So it's finally stopped and to rest to boot.
"Good job. Standby for now, but keep watch for enemy movements and update me on any changes."
"AFFIRMATIVE. ADJUSTING RECONNAISSANCE PROTOCOLS. MAINTAINING MAXIMUM ALERT STATUS. CONTINUING DATA COLLECTION OF SURROUNDING AREA."
That will give us some time to take a position and set up defensive lines.
So we keep marching on.
As we march deeper into the jungle, evidence of the Grimm's passage becomes clear - massive footprints and pools of its volatile green slime mark its trail. Everyone knows to avoid the substance; one wrong step and it'll detonate immediately. Hence, everyone was careful where they stepped on.
According to Pod's coordinates and the tactical mini-map, we've reached the optimal firing range for Kawakaze and Asanagi main canons.
"Set up defensive positions," I command through the private comm channel to the Albain brothers. "The Behemoth is within operational range."
The brothers raise their hands in unison, and the entire platoon halts, followed by specific hand signs, which everyone recognizes. Their experience shows as they efficiently direct the troops. Some begin digging trenches while others fortify our position with anything at hand. The aura users make quick work of the surrounding trees, their enhanced strength and dexterity allowing them to create makeshift barricades and defensive spikes in minutes.
In my case, I calmly move away and find a quiet spot, and settle into a long meditation. Even with all our preparations, I need this moment to center myself. This will be our most difficult and dangerous battle, yet - facing a grimm of this magnitude requires perfect focus. Every sense must be sharp, every reaction immediate, no room for error. Especially because I will be the one facing the bastard alone.
But a sound pulls me out from my thoughts, steps getting closer behind me, steps which I recognize. They stop close to me, and I don't need to look to know who it is.
"I trust my back to you," I say, maintaining my position.
"Like I'd let anything get past me," Ilia responds, her tone trying to show confidence, but I know that she is covering her nerves.
"But be ready to retreat as well. I don't want to lose people pointlessly." The words come unbidden - perhaps for my own comfort more than anything else. Victory can mean living to fight another day; we can regroup and strike back, but only if we survive.
Her silence stretches between us, heavier than usual. I can almost feel her tension.
"You know," she starts, her voice slightly quieter, "everyone's different since you came back. More focused. More... hopeful. We never thought we'd face a behemoth or Atlas again after..." She trails off, and I hear the slight tremor in her voice she's trying to hide. "But with you leading us again, they believe we can actually win this."
"It's my responsibility. I would be a failure if I didn't."
"You always say that," she says, a hint of frustration slipping into her voice. "But you're not just... you're not just our commander, Adam. Not to everyone. Not to-" She catches herself, and I hear her shift her weight behind me.
"Ilia..."
"I watched you die once," she says abruptly, her voice tight. "We all did. And now you're back, and sometimes I still can't believe it, and here you are about to face something even veteran Hunters avoid and-" She takes a sharp breath. "I know you have to do this. I know why. But..."
"I'm not the same person I was then," I say quietly. "I won't make the same mistakes."
There's a pause, and when she speaks again, her voice carries a strange tone. "Just... don't do anything reckless, okay? We can't..." She stops herself, and I hear her take a steadying breath. "Just come back alive. Promise me that much."
I can't help but chuckle softly, the sound making her shift behind me in surprise.
"What's so funny?" There's a defensive edge to her voice, but I can hear the underlying doubt in her tone- so typical of Ilia when she's trying to mask her concern.
"You're asking me to make a promise I already made."
She's quiet for a moment, and I know without looking that her skin is likely taking on that faint pink tinge it does when she's caught off guard. "That was... different."
"Was it?" I finally turn to look at her, meeting those familiar eyes. "I meant it then, and I mean it now. I'm coming back. WE will be coming back."
She nods, and I see the moment when the soldier in her takes over, pushing aside the concerned friend.
"Go back to your position. We have a battle to win."
Ilia straightens her back, snapping into a crisp military salute before leaving my side, all traces of our personal conversation gone from her bearing.
I unsheathe Wilt, its perfect edge catching the light. The blade likely won't be enough to cut through the Grimm's ancient armor, and Blush's rounds will be even less effective. But I have my semblance, and with Pod's assistance - his charged laser beams feeding into my power - Moonslice might just be enough to cut through.
Though I'm hoping the shipgirls' cannons will finish this before I need to test that theory.
And just then, the comm crackles to life, interrupting my thoughts.
"Defenses are ready, High-Leader."
Good.
I quickly switch channels.
"Rigging complete."
"Don't keep me waiting, commander!"
Everything is in position. Now it's my turn.
Standing up, I brush off my pants before I partially take off my helmet and take a long, deep breath, savoring the fresh jungle air as I exhale slowly. A single breath of peace before putting it back on.
I move beyond our defensive perimeter, venturing deeper into the jungle until I'm relatively close to the Behemoth's cave. Finding my position, I plant my feet firmly and adopt a proper fighting stance.
Only then do I activate the first channel.
"Pod, lure it out."
"UNDERSTOOD. PROCEEDING WITH NEW MISSION."
The channel goes silent, leaving me with only the whistle of wind, rustling leaves, and occasional bird calls. My hand instinctively finds Wilt's handle, establishing a firm grip.
And I wait.
Seconds stretch like hours, my finger tapping against the handle. Perhaps the cave is larger than anticipated, requiring Pod to fly even deeper. Or maybe it's a heavy sleeper.
That's ridiculous - grimm do not sleep... Do they? I can't recall if they truly sleep or merely enter some dormant state until disturbed. Which is essentially sleeping... I'm overthinking this.
A piercing roar shatters my thoughts and the tranquility of the jungle. Birds scatter from their perches as the ground trembles. Heavy footsteps follow, each one louder than the last, accompanied by the sharp crack of gunfire that grows closer with each passing moment.
Then comes the sound of destruction - trees being forcefully uprooted, torn from the earth itself and even fucking explosions.
"WARNING: BEHEMOTH APPROACHING COMMANDER'S POSITION. 30 METERS."
I narrow my eyes and tighten my grip, my mind bracing as I take measured breaths and close my eyes.
"20 METERS."
I can do this. Inhale, exhale.
Inhale...
"10 METERS."
Exhale.
"CONTACT."
My eyes snap open as the trees before me explode into splinters, and the behemoth bursts through with a rage-filled bellow. The creature before me is even worse than the pictures Pod sent me hours ago. Its most distinctive features are those green bulbous hands and the massive horn protruding from its head, both coated in that volatile, explosive slime that drips constantly, sizzling as it hits the ground. The horn itself curves forward like a battering ram, wickedly sharp at its tip despite its bulbous nature.
Unlike regular Grimm with their somewhat smooth bone plates, this ancient monster's armor is incredibly jagged, forming sharp, crystalline-like protrusions across its body. These bone plates overlap like plates, creating natural weak points at the joints but offering incredible protection everywhere else. Its four red eyes glow with malevolent intelligence, set deep within a skull-like face that seems to have been carved from obsidian itself.
The beast's muscular form speaks of its tremendous power, with thick limbs ending in those deadly slime-covered fists. Its tail, though shorter than expected, is heavily armored and ends in a club-like formation of bone spikes. When it moves, the bone plates scrape against each other, creating an unsettling sound like grinding stone.
Pod still hovers before it, his bullets bouncing harmlessly off its jagged hide before ceasing fire and flying upwards, successfully disengaging. That's the moment when the monster's eyes lock onto me, creating a moment of tense silence, its very presence radiating an ancient malevolence that makes the air feel heavy.
It's large, though not as massive as the rock-eater from Menagerie - perhaps half its size. The silence breaks as the Grimm begins pounding its bulbous fists together, splashing volatile slime in an attempt to limit my movement, showing that it knows what is doing.
Yet it stands there, completely immobile, a perfect target.
"Fire."
The word barely leaves my lips before the thunderous roar of synchronized artillery erupts behind me. The whistle of shells fills the air as I smirk at the behemoth, watching every projectile find its mark with devastating precision. Explosions pepper its torso, body, and head as the monster shrieks and bellows before finally crashing down, the impact shaking the earth beneath my feet.
The smokescreen rises from the explosion and dust, and I focus intently, hoping - praying - that the first barrage was enough to end this before it truly begins so we all can return home. But through the haze, I see it thrashing, its massive limbs flailing wildly as it struggles to rise. A growl escapes my throat as my wish dissolves into reality.
Now I have to keep it occupied until another artillery barrage can finish the job.
Leaning forward, I break into a sprint, charging at the Grimm. My vision narrows, focusing on those glowing red eyes - if I can blind it, even partially...
But the beast moves with impossible speed, twisting its head at an unnatural angle and driving its bulbous horn into the ground. What follows defies logic - the volatile slime spreads in a perfect circle around its body in less than a second.
No, that's fucking impossible.
Nothing should move that fast, yet here I'm witnessing it with my own eyes but then could…
The shockwave from the resulting explosion catches me mid-leap, hurling me backward. I manage to twist my body, using a tree to arrest my momentum before landing back on solid ground. When I regain focus, the behemoth is already standing, pumping its fists together while staring directly at me. It feels like an actual deliberate taunt that makes me frown.
This bastard is far more cunning than anticipated. No, cunning isn't the word - it possesses a level of intelligence that shouldn't be possible according to the known records.
"Reloading second barrage," Kawakaze announces through the comm.
Okay, good to know.
My attention stays locked on the monster as its slime gradually shifts to a sickly yellow hue. It growls, then begins its slow advance - each step punctuated by a ground-punching explosion, creating a devastating path of destruction as it moves.
While doing that, close combat is no longer a viable option. I summon the anti-material rifle, performing a quick function check before taking position at a safer distance. The grimm continues its explosive rampage, determined to close the gap between us.
I sight in on its head, identifying what appears to be a weakness in its armor, and squeeze the trigger.
The round strikes true with a thunderous crack, but the impact only manages to create a small fracture in its armored hide, one that is barely visible because if my vision wasn't enhanced it would have looked like it achieved absolutely nothing. However, that minor damage seems to be enough to halt its advance, its four eyes blazing with renewed fury.
The behemoth stops its explosive advance, and for a moment, everything goes still. Then it begins pumping its fists together rapidly, the yellow slime growing more vibrant with each collision. And that's where my instincts scream in total danger.
I barely have time to register it coiling its powerful legs before it launches itself skyward, its massive form somehow defying gravity as it soars above the treeline. The sight is both magnificent and terrifying - tons of grimm muscle and bone suspended in the air, its form briefly silhouetted against the sky.
Time seems to slow as I watch it reach the apex of its jump, its bulbous fists raised high above its head.
"Shit!"
My instincts take over my body and move before my mind can fully process the danger.
The beast soon comes crashing down, the impact sending a shockwave that shatters the ground beneath it. Yellow slime sprays in all directions, followed immediately by a chain of explosions that ripple outward like a deadly flower blooming.
But I'm already on the move, my semblance enhancing my natural speed as I do my absolute best to weave through the chain of explosions. The heat sears at my aura, and the shockwaves buffet my body, but I manage to stay just ahead of the destruction. Yet a particularly close blast catches the edge of my coat, singeing it, but my aura holds strong.
When I finally skid to a stop at a safer distance, I can't help but clench my jaw at the destruction left in the wake of that single attack. The forest floor has been transformed into a cratered wasteland, trees reduced to burning stumps, and the air thick with smoke and the acrid smell of the substance.
That's when the behemoth rises from the center of the devastation, its red eyes finding me once again, and I can swear I see something like satisfaction in its gaze at the destructive results.
This scale of destruction will undoubtedly draw attention - something this massive and loud is impossible to conceal. No… It already did. Prometheus and Atlas forces must already be en route either because this confirmed our location or to investigate.
Goddammit.
No choice but to press on the attack and try to finish this as soon as possible.
"Ready!" Asanagi's voice cuts through my thoughts. Good timing.
"Fire!"
Another synchronized barrage erupts from the south, whistling shells raining down on the behemoth's back with precision. The monster releases a guttural roar of pain and rage as the impacts force it down to one knee before it crashes to the ground once more.
I watch intently as smoke rises from its body and the armor cracked in several spots. However, the beast is just wounded but far from dead, its limbs thrashing violently as it struggles to rise again.
Dropping to one leg, I quickly eject the spent round from my rifle and chamber a new one. This time I aim for its chest, where the armored plates seem thinner, and pull the trigger.
The round strikes true once more, but does little more than leave a superficial mark. Cursing under my breath, I reload again, this time targeting the neck where bone meets flesh.
Yet, much to my dismay, the bullet embeds itself in the creature's hide. The damage is negligible at best.
"Reloading third barrage," Kawakaze announces through the comm.
Before I can chamber another round, the behemoth surges upward. Its head snaps toward me, body shifting in an unnatural motion, and throws its head upwards. Where it releases a roar, that's unlike anything before - a piercing, crystalline shriek that seems to shake reality itself.
My hands instinctively clamp over my ears, but it does little to help. As it becomes hard, it is impossible to describe the excruciating pain, like someone driving rusty needles directly into my eardrums. Even with my aura, I can feel the roar threatening to tear my consciousness apart, the pressure building with every nightmarish second until I fear my head might explode.
Yet the roar finally stops, and I am allowed to exhale in relief - only to catch the behemoth performing something strange. It's biting and licking its bulbous hands, and heavily salivating, only to fully understand that it is coating them with fresh slime before suddenly driving one into the ground. My brow furrows slightly in confusion, but my instincts scream danger as it moves, performing an uppercut.
I leap aside as the beast unleashes a devastating chain of explosions that trace its path like a burning fuse. Before I can properly recover, the other fist comes swinging, but I'm ready this time, dodging smoothly and moving to a safer distance. But I perfectly understand that standing still means certain death, so I break into another sprint.
Attempting to circle the monster, I maintain my momentum, but the behemoth winds up a forelimb and lunges at me with surprising speed. Its punch misses me entirely. However, that was its plan. The beast abruptly spins its massive form, its armored tail becoming a devastating whip, forcing me to make a hasty jump. The wind from the attack whistling beneath my feet and almost knocks me over.
Realizing my precarious position in mid-air, I fire another shot, using the recoil to propel myself to safer ground. The bullet strikes uselessly against a hardened bone plate, but it doesn't matter as it already achieved its purpose and I create some distance between us.
The anti-material rifle isn't yielding results. It's wasting precious time. I need a different approach, and fast.
Sending the rifle back to my pocket dimension, I land with my hand already gripping Wilt's hilt.
The behemoth answers my action with a growl before leaping into the air, lunging at my position, aiming to crush me with its entire weight. Instead of retreating, like I've been doing before, I charge forward, dropping into a slide at the last second. As the monster passes overhead, I draw Wilt in one fluid motion, blade singing through the air as it cuts along the beast's belly.
Time seems to slow as I watch my blade actually penetrate the hide. The cut runs long, from stomach to leg, but it's frustratingly superficial - barely more than a scratch to something this size.
Rolling back to my feet, I spot the incoming tail swipe too late to dodge completely. "Shit!"
I hastily bring Wilt up to block the attack, the impact sending me flying backwards. Yet my aura holds strong, protecting me from any damage, but physics is physics.
"Ready!"
A grim smile crosses my face at the perfect timing.
"Fire!"
I give the order as soon as my feet touch the ground.
The artillery barrage rains down from the sky again, although not all shells finding their mark but enough to matter. Two rounds strike the behemoth's head directly, shattering its armored plates in an explosion of bone fragments, and I think it even destroyed the eyes on that side. The monster tumbles, its movements becoming erratic as the direct hits to its skull leave it visibly disoriented.
Taking advantage of its confused state, I charge again, fully intending to exploit this opening. The beast attempts to defend itself with wild, desperate swings of the limbs, but they lack purpose, wild. I leap over its flailing limbs. Wilt pointed downward as I let gravity pull me down with full force.
Wilt finds its mark, sinking deep into the grimm's chest. The satisfying sound as it keeps going tells me enough, drawing a pain-filled roar that shakes the surrounding trees. Before I can press my advantage and try to cause more serious damage, the creature's head twists at an impossible angle - a motion that defies natural anatomy.
Its jaws snap shut where my head was a fraction of a second ago, forcing me to wrench Wilt free and get away.
As I put distance between us, I notice a small important detail - black liquid oozing from the chest wound, dripping steadily onto the jungle floor. A real wound, not just another superficial cut. The beast is actually bleeding, which means...
A cold smile forms on my face. We can kill it. It's just a matter of time now - as long as we maintain the pressure, I can land the killing blow.
"WARNING: SCANNER PICKING UP MULTIPLE SIGNALS FROM NORTH AND WEST. SUGGESTION: INITIATING DEEP ANALYSIS OF NEW SIGNALS."
Pod's voice cuts through, and I feel the exact moment when my blood turns to ice in my veins and takes a step back to support my body as the information comes crashing down on me. But they were crystal clear.
No way.
This has to be a fucking joke. The timing couldn't be worse - right when we finally had the monster staggering, right when we were making progress, right when I thought I had everything figured out. Everything was falling into place, and now...
"ANALYSIS COMPLETED. SIGNALS IDENTIFIED: PROMETHEUS GROUP APPROACHING FROM WEST, ESTIMATED TWELVE MILITARY GRADE VEHICLES. ATLAS FORCES APPROACHING FROM NORTH, ONE AIRSHIPS AND MULTIPLE VEHICLES."
Fuck…
FUCK!
I ignore everything else and connect directly to the brothers. "Take defensive positions! Company incoming from WEST and NORTH!"
I have to trust Fennec and Corsac to coordinate the defense, and trust Ilia to keep everything in order. Yet, I can't turn back now, no matter how much my gut feeling is demanding me to go back and help them repel the attack to keep the damage to a minimum. The behemoth would simply follow me, and having this monster loose in the middle of what's about to become a three-way battle... would mean total annihilation for everyone involved.
"WARNING: SINGLE FLYING ENTITY DETACHED FROM THE AIRSHIP APPROACHING RAPIDLY FROM NORTH. VELOCITY EXCEEDS STANDARD PARAMETERS."
"Just a single one?" I narrow my eyes as the intelligence reports flash through my mind. There's only one possible explanation for a solo unit moving at those speeds.
Penny.
My mind is already switching channels again. "Kawakaze, Asanagi, cancel all orders and take new positions. New orders support the ground troops."
"Roger!" Kawakaze answers, keeping her professionalism.
"Told you it was a bad idea!" And the other obviously kept her bratty attitude despite the situation.
"JUST DO IT!"
The words tear from my throat before I cut the connection. My hand clenches around Wilt's handle as I notice the behemoth has used these precious seconds to recover fully. Its massive form rises once again, bone plates shifting and grinding, but at least I know that it only has three working eyes.
"WARNING: ARMORED BULLHEAD APPROACHING GROUND TROOPS' POSITION. DESIGN SPECIFICATIONS ATLAS MILITARY. HEAVY WEAPONS DETECTED AND DETACHMENT OF ATLAS KNIGHTS."
This couldn't get any better….
-Penny Polendina-
"Combat mode activated, target acquired."
She hovered above the massive Behemoth, her synthetic muscles tensing with anticipation. Her targeting systems outlined the creature's form in vivid green overlays, highlighting potential weak points and calculating optimal firing solutions.
Target size: Exceptional
Threat level: Maximum
Civilians in range: None
Combat effectiveness: 98.7%
Power reserves: Full capacity
"Fire." Specialist Winter's command came through crisp and clear.
"Discharging weapon!" Penny felt a surge of excitement as her floating array spun into formation. She loved this part!
The weapons merged into a single point, energy crackling between them as power readings spiked. "Energy output at maximum capacity!"
The blast erupted from her array in a brilliant green beam, but her satisfaction turned to confusion and then concern as the Behemoth twisted with unexpected agility. Its armored back absorbed most of the impact, and while the force pushed it back several meters, the creature remained frustratingly upright.
Attack effectiveness: 34.2%
Target status: Minimal damage
Power reserves: Requiring recharge
Penny descended to conserve energy, her foot thrusters powering down with a soft hum. Her facial expression remained cheerful despite the setback – after all, this just meant she got to try different tactical approaches!
A movement caught her attention, and her head snapped toward it with mechanical precision. Her recognition software immediately began processing the new figure: white robes, distinctive weapon configuration, and a helmet adorned with red markings that matched patterns in her terrorist database.
"Third party detected! Matching uniform patterns to known terrorist organization - White Fang. Requesting orders!" She felt a slight hiccup coming, but managed to suppress it.
"Grimm has priority. Only engage humanoid targets if they initiate hostile action." Specialist Winter's response was immediate and clear.
New parameters accepted
Primary target: Behemoth
Secondary threat: White Fang operative
Current directive: Maintain position, await hostile action
Penny's weapons remained ready, her processors running multiple combat scenarios simultaneously. She wished she could ask the White Fang member why they were here – it seemed like such an interesting coincidence! But Specialist Winter had been very clear about following protocol, and Penny was determined to prove she could be professional.
Still, she couldn't help but wave cheerfully at the masked figure. After all, they hadn't done anything hostile yet, and Father always said it was important to be friendly!
"Understood!" Penny's mechanical enthusiasm remained intact as she reconfigured her weapon array. Her blades sprang to life, spinning into attack formation as her thrusters ignited with a high-pitched whine. Combat algorithms calculated the optimal approach vector as she launched herself toward the ancient grimm.
Initiating close-quarters combat protocol
Blade configuration: Maximum spread
Target weak points identified: Analyzing
Her blades danced through the air in precise patterns, each strike carefully measured and executed. Yet despite her perfect form, the attacks barely scratched the creature's ancient armor. Her sensors registered minimal damage with each hit.
Damage assessment: Insufficient
Adjusting tactical approach
With practiced motions, she reconfigured her weapons into ranged mode. Her targeting systems identified a slightly compromised section of the beast's armor, and she concentrated her fire on that single point. The sustained barrage finally showed results – armor plates beginning to crack and peel away.
Armor integrity compromised: 12.3%
Continue current strategy-
Her analysis was interrupted as the Behemoth launched counter-attacks. The air itself seemed to explode with each massive downward punch, forcing Penny to retreat skyward. Her thrusters responded instantly, carrying her clear of the destruction zone.
Calculating safe distance
Monitoring unexpected ally
The White Fang operative moved with impressive speed, his blade finding purchase against the Behemoth's legs and underbelly. While the damage remained superficial, it successfully divided the creature's attention.
Power core charging: 17.2%
Estimated time to full capacity: 284 seconds
The Behemoth's frustration manifested in a thunderous slam of both fists, creating a shockwave that filled the air with debris. Penny's vision automatically adjusted to compensate, but the following roar caught her systems off guard. The sound wave was so intense it temporarily disrupted her audio processors and destabilized her flight systems.
WARNING: Audio system malfunction
WARNING: Flight stabilizers compromised
Initiating emergency recalibration
Through the interference, she detected the Behemoth's change in tactics. "Behemoth retreating," she quickly reported.
"Pursue target." Winter's command came immediately.
"Affirmative." Penny's systems reengaged at full capacity as she launched into pursuit. Her weapons maintained constant harassment fire, each shot strategically placed to chip away more armor and expose the hide.
Target heading: South
Speed: 47 kilometers per hour
Distance: Maintaining optimal range
She noted the White Fang member keeping pace below, his intentions seemingly aligned with stopping the creature from running away. An interesting tactical coincidence, but ultimately irrelevant to her mission parameters.
Primary objective: Maintain pursuit
Secondary objective: Continue tactical degradation
Power core charging: 23.8%
-Ilia Amitola-
Ilia was worried.
Her skin betrayed her anxiety, small patches of blue rippling across her freckled complexion despite her attempts to maintain control. Too many variables, too many dangerous elements that could spell disaster at the slightest mistake–and she'd seen enough missions go wrong to know exactly how quickly things could spiral.
And Adam was out there alone, facing the worst of it. Her childhood friend, her leader, battling a monster straight out of humanity's darkest nightmares.
Their brief conversation earlier had reassured her somewhat. The promise they'd exchanged still echoed in her mind and the last promise, "I'm coming back. WE will be coming back." Yet here she was, fretting like she always did when it came to him.
Her faith held steady even as the behemoth's roars tore through the night air, each one accompanied by massive explosions that lit up the darkness like artificial dawn. Those sounds, terrible as they were, meant Adam was still fighting, still standing strong against the ancient horror.
But that faith began to crack with every barrage the two girls fired from their positions. The fact that this monster of darkness was withstanding such an assault meant more than just delayed operations – every minute increased their chance of discovery, of everything falling apart.
She could see the same realization dawning on everyone's faces, their expressions growing tenser by the minute. The animal ears twitched at every distant sound, tails bristled with anticipation.
Another roar thundered through the air, so powerful it vibrated through their bones and rattled the teeth in their skulls. Ilia's spots flickered yellow with momentary fear. If this was what one behemoth could do, and Menagerie harbored many more... the thought alone was enough to chill her blood.
She watched another barrage launch into the darkness, fire dust shells streaking red against the night sky. Silently, she willed it to be the last, counting the seconds that stretched into minutes with no success message – only more explosions signaling the creature's continued resistance.
"Brothers and sisters, to arms! The enemy approaches!" Fennec's voice rang out with fervent conviction. "They dare to threaten our homeland, but we will show them the strength of Menagerie's children!"
"Not one step further! For our people!"
"FOR MENAGERIE AND FREEDOM!"
Fennec's sharp commands cut through her thoughts like a blade. She whirled around, weapon already in hand, to see their forces taking up defensive positions with renewed vigor. Without hesitation, she ducked behind a barricade, her weapon transforming with a familiar mechanical whir into gun mode.
She'd feared this moment would come, but Adam trusted her to handle it. She'd trained years for this, practiced until her muscles tore and her aura shattered.
Taking deep breaths, she gripped her weapon tightly, feeling the familiar texture of its grip against her palms. Her skin settled into its natural tone – focus, replacing worry.
"ILIA THEY ARE ON TO YOU!"
"A-Adam?!" His voice through the comm, strained and urgent, made her heart skip a beat.
Before she could process his warning, an explosion rocked the western perimeter, sending debris and heat washing over their position.
Through the smoke and chaos, a distorted battle cry rang out…
"RYūJIN NO KEN WO KūRAE!"
The battle cry pierced the air, and Ilia watched in horror as a single figure burst from the treeline, sunlight glinting off his metallic frame. The cyborg was a body horror in black and red - sleek combat armor hugging an obviously augmented frame, combat tubes and cybernetic parts exposed at the joints. Not an inch of organic material is visible beneath the shell of metal and composite materials. His helmet was angular, dominated by a blood-red visor that blazed even in the daylight. The sword in his hands ignited with ethereal light, a phantasmal dragon coiling around the blade and its wielder like living energy.
Before she could even shout a warning, the cyborg moved. Not ran - simply existed in one space and then another. Two of her soldiers fell, arterial spray catching the sunlight, their throats opened before they could register the threat. The PMC Hunter cut through their defensive line like it was paper, each motion precise and lethal, leaving destruction in his wake.
"FIRE!"
The scream tore from her throat and everywhere erupted with gunfire. But the cyborg's hands became a blur, his knife dancing in impossible patterns. Bullets ricocheted harmlessly off his defense, the air filling with the sharp ping of deflected rounds until their weapons clicked empty.
Then came the throwing stars, each finding their mark with surgical precision. Soldiers dropped one by one as missiles screamed overhead, forcing the remaining defenders to scramble for cover as explosions rocked their position.
Time seemed to slow as Ilia raised her head from behind her barricade. A glinting star spun inches from her face, directly between her eyes. Her heart stopped - death, crystallized in metal, reaching for her. Pure instinct saved her as she jerked her head aside. The projectile sliced through her hair, her aura flaring as it buried itself in the barricade with a solid thunk.
She recovered instantly, her weapon spitting fire, but the cyborg repeated his impossible defense. Through the dust, she could see him watching her, that blood-red visor burning against his dark frame. The artificial lights across his form pulsed with power under the sun, and now she could fully see what they'd missed in their intelligence - the telltale gleam of augmented limbs, the too-smooth motion of cybernetic joints. Every movement was precise, calculated, enhanced beyond human limits. This wasn't just any cyborg - this was a complete conversion, a hunter rebuilt from the ground up.
A Hunter-class cyborg. The Prometheus group had a Hunter-class cyborg, and their oversight was about to cost them dearly.
The cyborg raised his glowing blade in a horizontal arc, and the air itself seemed to tear. A shockwave of pure force ripped through their first line of defense, reducing barricades to splinters and sending soldiers flying. Ilia felt her skin flicker with colors of shock and fear as she witnessed the raw power of the Hunter's semblance as she soon realized…
They were hopelessly outmatched.
Why did a mere PMC group have this kind of power?! Ilia's thoughts raced as her spots flickered yellow before turning back to normal. Before she could dwell on it further, a massive elemental sphere - fire and wind dust combined - streaked past her and exploded against the cyborg. Through the resulting inferno, Corsac launched himself into the fray, his daggers flashing as he engaged the seemingly unharmed hunter in close combat.
But keeping the bastard occupied.
"FALL BACK AND REGROUP!" Fennec's commanding voice cut through her shock.
"FALL BACK, FALL BACK!" she found herself echoing, her throat raw from shouting.
The survivors began their retreat, some even helping their wounded comrades, at least until the sound of squealing tires and splintering wood cut through the chaos. An armored truck burst through the treeline, its mounted machine gun immediately lighting up their position with a deadly spray of bullets. Many reacted accordingly and threw themselves in search of cover, or what little they could get because most were destroyed, but others were caught before they could reach a semblance of safety and their bodies crumpled to the ground. The truck's doors flew open, disgorging heavily armed mercenaries who laid down accurate covering fire, and preventing returning fire.
Ilia's eyes narrowed because the mercenaries had positioned themselves too close to her position - their mistake. She transformed her weapon back to its whip form, muscles tensing as she waited for the perfect moment. When the gunner adjusted his aim, she sprung from cover, her weapon crackling with electricity as it snaked through the air. The whip wrapped around the turret, and she channeled a massive lighting discharge through it. The gunner convulsed and slumped, smoke rising from the fried weapons systems and his body.
She barely made it to the new cover as bullets chipped away at the ground where she'd stood moments before. Then a familiar whistling filled the air, and she allowed herself a grim smile as the armored truck disappeared in a massive explosion, artillery shells from Asanagi and Kawakaze's repositioned cannons turning it into a twisted inferno of metal and flame followed by pained groans as the barrage also managed to hit the bastards using the truck as cover.
Relief flooded through her system. Their artillery support was finally in position. Maybe they had a chance after all.
The artillery strike gave them the opening they needed. White Fang fighters scrambled to better defensive positions as more armored trucks crashed through the underbrush, their mounted guns spitting death. But this time, they were ready. The new position offered proper cover, letting them return effective fire against the mercenaries pouring from their vehicles.
Ilia's weapon cracked repeatedly, each shot finding its mark. Her lips curved into a satisfied smirk as mercenary after mercenary fell to her precise aim. Another artillery barrage screamed overhead, transforming two more trucks into blazing wreckage and scattering their occupants.
The cyborg finally disengaged, landing a brutal kick to Corsac's chest before retreating to the mercenary lines. He took up a defensive stance, his blade becoming a blur as it intercepted their bullets. Through the chaos, she spotted Corsac stumbling back behind their lines, blood streaming from a deep gash in his arm. But she knew him - he'd be back in the fight soon enough.
Her confidence lasted until the next artillery barrage. Her jaw dropped as she watched the cyborg's impossible display - his sword flashing in perfect arcs, somehow cutting the explosive shells mid-flight. The disabled shells dropped harmlessly to the ground, their dust charges neutralized.
What kind of monster were they dealing with?
"UNDER AUTHORITY OF GENERAL JAMES IRONWOOD AND THE ATLAS MILITARY, YOU ARE ALL UNDER ARREST!"
The battlefield fell silent. Ilia's head snapped upward, her skin crawling to her back as she recognized the massive silhouette hovering above them. The military-grade Bullhead's engines thrummed ominously, its heavy weapons trained on the battlefield below. The Atlas military insignia stood out starkly against its armored hull.
As if on cue, Atlas Knights dropped from the aircraft, landing on a perfect military formation. Their robotic forms unfolded in unison, weapons raised and targeting systems painting both sides alike.
The ground trembled as a Rhinox-class combat transport emerged from the northern treeline, its eight massive wheels crushing undergrowth beneath them. The vehicle was nearly twice the size of the Prometheus trucks, its sleek armored hull bearing the distinctive white and blue of Atlas forces. The rear doors dropped open with a hydraulic hiss, disgorging Atlas soldiers in their distinctive white armor, bristling with top-of-the-line weaponry. They moved with practiced efficiency, creating a perimeter that seemed to have trapped both forces in a pincer move.
Her grip tightened on her weapon as she realized their situation had just gone from bad to worse.
"YOU HAVE 5 SECONDS TO DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" The Bullhead's speakers boomed as massive red holographic numbers projected in front of the aircraft.
"FIVE!"
The cyborg rolled his neck, as if he was relaxing.
"FOUR!"
It seemed like nervous glances were exchanged across all sides, breaths held in anticipation.
"THREE!"
Ilia's grip tightened on her weapon until her knuckles went white, because it was clear that nobody would comply, not like she ever had the intentions to begin with.
"TWO!"
The deafening silence.
"ONE!"
A missile suddenly streaked from the west, finding its mark as it struck the aircraft's main engine. The massive aircraft lurched violently, hydraulics screaming as it spun out of control before crashing into the forest that shook the ground.
Ilia's eyes widened and her head snapped in the direction the mercenaries had actually shot down an Atlas aircraft with zero doubt. And it was Atlas forces that shattered the moment of shocked silence.
The battlefield erupted into chaos once again as the knights split their forces, their joints clicking and whirring as half switched to melee mode. Their visors flashed red as they charged both positions, standard-issue blades extending from their arms.
A three-way war.
The worst possible case scenario was developing right in front of her.
And she needed to warn Adam.
"Adam, it's a three w-" Her warning cut off as a very close explosion threw her through the air. She hit the ground hard, rolling with the impact across the rough terrain. Pain lanced through her body but she still had her aura, it didn't shatter. Her ears rang, the world muffled around her like she was underwater. But even then she still had an objective in mind and frantically she checked her sides for the spare comm in her pouch, only to find it completely broken.
They were alone in this…
Gritting her teeth against the pain, she launched herself back into the fight. Her Lightning Lash crackled with lighting as she intercepted a charging knight, the weapon wrapping around its reinforced neck. With a sharp twist, she tore its head clean off, sparks and hydraulic fluid spraying as the robot jerked and collapsed. Then she dropped flat as bullets whistled overhead, staying low and mobile as she'd been trained.
As she was moving, she caught a glimpse of the cyborg unleashing his dragon-blade against the Atlas forces. Knights fell in pieces with each swing, their advanced armor no match for whatever his blade and semblance was made of, while his throwing stars found gaps in the atlesians armor with lethal precision, incapacitating them or straight up killing them.
Prometheus' group was mostly focused on Atlas, ignoring their side.
An opportunity.
Thankfully, the mercenary's focus on Atlas didn't go unnoticed by her troops. Another artillery barrage screamed in from Asanagi and Kawakaze's position, targeting their location. The impact transformed the area into a maelstrom of debris, dust, and fire, and more vehicles exploded.
They were making them bleed.
"Fall back!"
Fennec's order was clear despite the noises. It felt early to abandon their position, but Ilia trusted the brothers' experience from countless operations. And this time the White Fang began their organized retreat, some providing covering fire while others fell back to the final line of defense.
But Ilia couldn't retreat yet. She darted between fallen comrades, quickly checking pulses, as she was determined to help those who could still move.
She wouldn't leave her people behind in this chaos - not when Adam had trusted her to protect them.
Moving swiftly, she found a wounded ally with those damned stars lodged in his chest and bleeding profusely. The wound was deep but survivable as long as they gave him medical aid. She quickly wrapped an arm around him, supporting his weight as they moved towards a safer position.
But that didn't happen as the ground suddenly trembled. Trees cracked and toppled in the distance. While others continued fighting, Ilia turned toward the sound - and felt her blood freeze as her eye refused to believe what had just arrived at the fight.
A grimm… No…not just any grimm.
The behemoth stood there, its massive form dwarfing the heavy military vehicles. Even if its bone armor was cracked and damaged, those eyes screamed far from defeat. But that wasn't what made Ilia's instincts scream in danger. The bulbous growths on its head and forearms was changing color, shifting from yellow to an ominous, pulsing red.
Every fiber of her being screamed at her to run, to abandon everything and flee as far as her legs could carry and never look back.
All sides turned their weapons on the monster, bullets and explosives peppering its armored hide. However, the behemoth ignored them completely, instead beginning to slam its forearms into the ground. Each impact sent shockwaves through the earth, the tremors so violent that Ilia lost her grip on her charge. Fighters from all sides also stumbled and fell as the ground bucked beneath them.
Then she saw it - where the monster struck, something was spreading and fast. It looked like lava, but it wasn't lava, but the substance that they were explicitly warned about and that splashed and clung to everything it touched.
Before she could process the scene more, a hand seized her collar, yanking her upward. She nearly fought back until she recognized Adam on his surfer, feeling a massive sense of relief wash over her and glad as he was also able to pull the wounded man and take them away.
And the timing couldn't have been better.
The behemoth reared its head back and let out another roar that shook her to the core, before bringing both forearms down in a final, earth shattering strike.
And hell descended upon everyone.
The impact point erupted into an inferno, but this was worse than mere fire. The ground itself liquefied, transforming into a sea of molten death. Those closest to the grimm simply... ceased to exist, not even signs that someone was there.
Meanwhile, she could hear those who were at the edges, and her morbid curiosity took over, her head turning to watch them. And see bodies frantically rolling as they were being consumed by the flames. Others were desperately trying to get the molten lava off their bodies, or they were just wiggling uselessly on the ground screaming in agony as the explosion tore off all their limbs.
Her skin finally betrayed her terror, turning stark white as the reality hit her.
This was what Adam had been fighting alone?
She realized now why even veteran Hunters avoided these ancient monsters.
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AN: This was difficult to write, I will not lie. And this is supposed to be a small-scale battle. So yes it is a Brachydios that becomes a Raging Brachydios. Tried to make it as dangerous as they actually are and being a grimm it made even worse. Alongwith another surpirse apperance
Either way I hope you like it.
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