The Titan moved—and the world broke with it.
The sky didn't crack; it folded. Clouds twisted into spirals as if something invisible was pulling them apart. The horizon bent. Mountains in the distance leaned like unstable towers, and the ground below split in long, slow fractures.
Corvin stood at the center of it. He didn't react.
Wind slammed into his body hard enough to tear skin, but nothing registered except pressure and direction. His silver fingers flexed once, metal grinding softly. Controlled. Exact. Wrong.
Behind him, Maren hit the ground, pulling her daughter close. "Corvin!" she shouted, but the sound drowned in the roar.
He turned—too fast, too precise.
She flinched. Not in relief. In fear.
Corvin paused. Something inside him tried to process that. Failed.
He looked past her.
For the first time, he saw it.
Not bone. Not tunnels. Not decay.
A world.
Endless forests stretched across the horizon. Rivers cut through the land like veins of silver. Far away, structures rose—tall, intact, alive. This wasn't the inside of a corpse. This was something that had survived.
Kael stepped forward beside him. "Now you see it."
Corvin didn't answer. His attention dropped.
The Titan moved again. Not a twitch—a decision. The massive hand beneath them began to lower toward the forest below.
Maren forced herself up. "We need to move. If that thing puts us down there—"
She stopped.
Corvin wasn't moving. He was listening.
Not with ears.
Something deeper.
The ground pulsed once.
Then something answered.
From the forest.
A roar—not sound, but weight. The trees bent outward as a massive shape forced its way into view. Its body looked like layered stone fused with muscle, veins glowing faintly across its surface.
It saw them.
It charged.
"Corvin, do something!" Maren shouted.
Corvin stepped forward. Slow. Controlled.
The creature leapt.
Corvin raised his arm.
The moment it entered range, the air collapsed. The creature froze mid-air, its body compressing inward under invisible force. Bone and flesh crushed together until nothing remained.
Then it was gone.
Silence followed.
Corvin lowered his arm. No reaction. No victory. Just result.
But deep inside, something flickered—a memory trying to surface. Gone before it formed.
The Titan's hand slammed into the forest.
The impact shook everything. Trees bent, the ground cracked, and the air filled with dust and heat.
They were no longer above the world.
They were in it.
For a moment, nothing moved.
Then came the sound.
Movement in the trees. Slow. Careful.
Something stepped out.
Smaller than the first creature. Black surface. Too many eyes, all moving differently. It stopped a few meters away, watching.
Then another appeared.
Then more.
Within seconds, they were surrounded.
Maren raised her weapon. "Corvin…"
He didn't look at her. He was watching them.
"They're not random," Kael said quietly.
One of the creatures stepped forward.
Corvin moved.
He disappeared from where he stood and reappeared in front of it. One strike. Clean. Direct.
The creature split in half.
But it didn't die.
The pieces twitched. Pulled back together. Flesh reformed.
It stood again.
Corvin stopped.
"Regeneration…" he said, voice low and distorted.
The rest began to move.
Slow at first. Then faster.
Then all at once.
They lunged.
Corvin reacted, but something was off—a delay. Small, but real.
One of them hit him.
The impact rang against his metal body. He didn't fall, but he stepped back.
For the first time.
He looked at his chest. No damage.
But the force mattered.
"These are stronger," he said.
Kael watched him. Calm. Almost curious. "I told you."
More creatures closed in.
Maren stepped back, pulling her daughter tight. "Corvin, these aren't like the ones inside."
"I know."
One creature broke through the others and sprinted straight for her.
Corvin turned.
Faster this time.
But not fast enough.
He raised his arm and the ground responded. Roots burst from beneath the surface—thick, violent—slamming into the creatures and throwing them back. The air filled with sharp vibrations as their bodies twisted under the force.
For a moment, it worked.
Then something inside him slipped.
A glitch.
A fragment.
A voice.
"Don't become this."
Corvin froze.
Just for a second.
The roots slowed.
That was enough.
One of the creatures broke through and reached Maren.
She screamed.
Corvin moved.
No hesitation now.
He crossed the distance instantly and crushed the creature before it could touch her. The body collapsed into nothing under his grip.
Silence returned again.
Heavy. Unstable.
Maren stared at him, breathing hard, holding her daughter close. She didn't thank him.
She didn't move closer.
Corvin stepped back on his own.
Distance.
Safer.
The child's breathing eased slightly.
He turned away.
The forest stretched in every direction. Endless. Alive. Watching.
Deep below, something pulsed again.
Stronger this time.
Not the creatures.
Something bigger.
Something aware.
Corvin lifted his head slowly.
For the first time since the transformation—
He didn't just react.
He waited.
And the world… responded.