His transformation was accelerating. His height had increased to seven feet, then to eight feet, and then four more inches; his skin now fully the pale red of his activated bloodline, his eyes blazing with red light that cast shadows despite the camp’s flood lights.
The massive sword—that manifestation of death made tangible—appeared in his hand, six feet of impossible tal that pulsed with power that made reality uncertain around it.
"Where are they?" His voice echoed across the camp, magically amplified, carrying over the sounds of battle and dying.
"Where are you keeping my family?"
He moved toward the largest structure—the command tent, where tactical displays and communication equipnt created a center of operations. Soldiers tried to stop him. They died. Quickly, efficiently, without rcy or hesitation.
A plasma cannon on a defensive emplacent tracked him, its barrel glowing as it charged. Jorghan thrust his sword toward it, and a beam of pure hemomantic force shot forward, eting the plasma bolt in mid-air. The collision created an explosion that vaporized the emplacent and everyone within thirty feet of it.
"Soone stop him! For God’s sake, soone stop—"
The voice cut off as Jorghan reached the command tent and simply walked through it, his sword cutting through reinforced fabric and support structures like they were tissue paper. Inside, officers scrambled for weapons and tried to access ergency protocols.
Jorghan killed them all in seconds.
No speeches, no dramatic confrontations, just efficient application of overwhelming force. Their blood joined the rest, feeding back into his power, making him stronger with each death.
[Bloodborne Rage — Primal Rage]
[Combatants eliminated: 387]
Then, from across the base, a sound that made even Jorghan pause.
Not the crack of conventional weapons or the whine of plasma discharge, but sothing deeper, more fundantal—the hum of a fusion reactor cycling to full power, the screech of servos and hydraulics moving tonnage of tal with impossible precision.
Major Carrow erged from a reinforced bunker, and he wasn’t in standard armor anymore.
The suit he wore was a masterpiece of Earth’s most advanced engineering, technology that shouldn’t have been possible even with the convergence providing access to exotic materials and principles. It stood twelve feet tall, making the standard cha units look like children’s toys by comparison.
The armor plating was constructed from ta-carbon composite—a material that existed at the intersection of carbon nanotubes, exotic matter from dinsional spaces, and crystalline structures that defied conventional physics. It was black as void, absorbing light rather than reflecting it, with lines of energy running through channels across the surface that glowed with cold blue luminescence.
The suit was called the Sentinel-class Tactical Assault Fra—designed specifically to counter Oga-level threats, built with technology reverse-engineered from captured dinsional artifacts, and enhanced with Earth’s cutting-edge materials science.
Only a few existed in the entire IPMF arsenal, and Major Carrow had authorization to deploy one specifically because intelligence suggested this sector might harbor high-level supernatural threats.
He’d never expected to need it this soon.
The Sentinel’s helt was a smooth, featureless surface broken only by sensor arrays that tracked Jorghan’s every movent through multiple spectrums simultaneously. Its arms ended not in hands but in modular weapon platforms—the right arm housing a particle beam cannon that drew power directly from the fusion core, the left arm mounting a kinetic accelerator that could fire projectiles at speeds that approached relativistic velocities.
And across its entire surface, a network of nanomachines worked constantly, repairing damage, adapting armor configuration, and creating localized shielding in response to incoming threats. The suit was semi-autonomous, its AI working in concert with Carrow’s neural interface to react faster than human thought alone could manage.
"Target acquired," Carrow’s voice bood from the Sentinel’s external speakers, augnted and distorted until it barely sounded human.
"Oga-class hostile. Authorization granted for lethal force. Engaging."
The particle beam cannon fired without further warning.
A lance of coherent energy that would have vaporized anything it touched streaked across the base toward Jorghan.
Jorghan moved.
Not dodging, but eting the attack head-on.
His sword ca up, the blade interposing between him and the beam, and for a mont they collided—particle physics and blood magic, Earth’s most advanced technology versus power that predated civilization.
The beam split around the sword, dispersing into harmless light, but the force of it drove Jorghan backward, his feet carving furrows in the ground as he was pushed back by the sheer energy output.
Jorghan furrowed his brows as he could feel the vibration in his hands. He looked at the cha one more ti, taking into consideration that it could deal damage.
"Impressive," Carrow said, his tactical displays feeding him real-ti analysis of the hostiles’ capabilities.
"I can say the sa to you," Jorghan said.
"Quite arrogant, aren’t you?"
"But let’s see how you handle this."
The Sentinel launched forward with impossible speed, propelled by verniers and anti-grav compensators that let sothing weighing three tons move like it was weightless.
Its left arm ca around in a punch that carried enough kinetic force to punch through a building.
Jorghan blocked with his sword, and the impact created a shockwave that flattened everything within a fifty-foot radius. Tents collapsed, vehicles were thrown sideways, soldiers still trying to fight were knocked off their feet.
The two titans—biological and chanical—stood locked in that mont, neither giving ground, force eting force with neither side yielding.
Then they truly began to fight.
Carrow used the Sentinel’s full arsenal.
The kinetic accelerator fired, projectiles moving so fast they ionized the air around them, creating trails of plasma in their wake. Jorghan’s wings swept up to intercept, blood-blades eting hypervelocity slugs in collisions that created miniature sonic booms.
The particle beam cannon tracked and fired continuously, requiring only microseconds to reacquire targets, painting the battlefield with coherent energy that turned ground to glass and tal to slag.
Jorghan wove between the beams with supernatural agility, his enhanced perception letting him predict firing patterns, his blood magic manifesting barriers where prediction failed.
"Analysis complete," the Sentinel’s AI reported directly to Carrow’s neural interface.
"Hostile utilizes hemomantic manifestation—external blood generation with apparent violation of conservation of mass. Suggest targeting at the molecular level to disrupt the manifestation process."
The Sentinel’s armor shifted, nanomachines reconfiguring the left arm’s weapon platform. The kinetic accelerator transford, chanisms folding and extending until it beca sothing else—a disruption emitter that projected fields designed to interfere with supernatural energy manipulation at the quantum level.
Carrow fired, and the air between them distorted, space itself warping as exotic particles flooded the area.
Jorghan felt his blood magic falter, the manifestations becoming unstable and harder to control. The wings flickered, losing cohesion.
The sword in his hand dimd slightly, its power dampened by fields specifically designed to counter abilities like his.
"Got you," Carrow said with grim satisfaction, advancing while the disruption field was active. "Whatever you are, you’re just another threat to be neutralized."
The Sentinel’s right fist ca forward, not an energy beam this ti but raw chanical force, the kind of punch that could crater bedrock.
Jorghan dropped the sword.
Before Carrow could process the action, before the Sentinel’s AI could adjust its threat assessnt, Jorghan did sothing neither expected.
He has withdrawn his blood magic.
Jorghan’s bloodline abilities vanished.
The Sentinel’s fist descended like a falling mountain, servos screaming as they channeled three tons of force into a single devastating blow.
The wings dissolved into mist, leaving his back unmarked. In that split second, as the disruption field destabilized his blood magic, he released it entirely.
And reached for sothing else.
The air itself responded to his will. He had done all this within fraction of seconds, his gaze never left the cha infront of him and so he reacted accordingly.
Wind howled into existence, gathering from all directions, compressing into a barrier that t the Sentinel’s fist with equal and opposite force.
Simultaneously, the ground beneath them erupted—not from impact, but from Jorghan’s command.
The ground and stone responded to elental sorcery, rising in jagged spikes that braced against the chanical titan’s advance.
BOOM!!!!
As soon as the fist made contact, a huge reverberating noise exploded from the spot.
The collision created a shockwave that tore across the IPMF base like a living thing.
The blast wave expanded in a perfect sphere, flattening everything within a hundred yards. The already chaotic camp erupted once more, descending into deeper disarray. Shouts clashed with the clang of steel as panic spread like wildfire, turning confusion into full-blown madness. Bodies—both living and dead—were thrown like ragdolls. The ground itself cracked and buckled, creating fissures that spiderwebbed outward from the epicenter.
Trees at the forest’s edge bent nearly horizontal, their ancient trunks groaning under forces they’d never been designed to withstand.
The ships, which were stationed near the campsite, toppled and fell into the cracks on the ground, and there were cracks on the surface of the ships.
At the Holding Area, a while before,
Sarhita and Sik’ra had moved with desperate speed the mont the battle escalated. There was no one present to stop them; all of the soldiers had been called to the camp area when Jorghan had entered the campsite.
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