Though the Leviathan loomed large over them, the base's automated defenses were still holding—barely. A few of the exterior gun turrets fired their final rounds, releasing explosive shells into the Leviathan's underbelly. The high-frequency shields created by the outer barriers flickered under the pressure of the beast's presence, but they were holding, giving Lucy and Ethel the precious time they needed to continue their assault.

The Ravagers and Skulkers were still wreaking havoc around the base, but Lucy and Ethel had kept their focus. They knew that the Leviathan was the true threat—the key to surviving this battle.

They were fighting for the base and for every life within it.

And they were winning.

The Leviathan's roar echoed one last time, shaking the very foundation of the base as its enormous form stumbled. Ethel saw the opening—a split-second vulnerability in the creature's giant exoskeleton. She lifted both of her hands, her gauntlets crackling with power, and unleashed one final focused blast.

Lucy's glaive swung down in perfect unison.

The battle wasn't over yet, but the end was coming. The base's survival depended on their resolve—and for now, Lucy and Ethel were determined to hold nothing back.

The Ravagers were not just creatures of flesh and bone—they were living weapons, the pinnacle of biological and mechanical engineering designed for one singular purpose: destruction. Their immense size and raw power made them a nightmare to behold, a terror that could break through the most formidable defenses with ease. Their bodies were like a living storm of primal savagery, and they were nearly indestructible.

The Ravagers' armor was the first thing anyone noticed about them. Their thick, segmented bone-plated bodies were an aberration of nature, fused with a complex, metallic sheen that almost seemed to shimmer in the low light. This plating wasn't just for show—it was designed for protection, adapted to absorb and deflect almost any form of attack. The layers of bone weren't smooth; rather, they were jagged, with protruding edges in specific areas, making them difficult to pierce and adding an extra layer of lethality. The organic materials within the armor would often regenerate rapidly, meaning that even if a section was damaged, it would quickly begin healing, sometimes before the weapon that inflicted the damage even retracted.

The spines protruding from the backs of the Ravagers were both natural armor and offensive weaponry. These razor-sharp, serrated structures glistened with acidic secretion, constantly dripping a corrosive substance capable of dissolving metal and eating through any organic material it came into contact with. But these spines weren't just for passive defense. The Ravagers had learned to whip their bodies sideways with terrifying precision, using the spines as a slashing weapon. These spines could cleave through steel, cutting down barriers or enemies with a single, devastating strike. The acidic secretion could also burn through any shield or armor it encountered, making even the strongest materials futile against their assault.

Despite their massive, hulking forms, the Ravagers were unnervingly fast. Their thick, sinewy legs were designed for both explosive speed and immense power. Each joint was reinforced with layers of pulsing sinew, giving them the strength to launch themselves into bursts of motion that seemed at odds with their size. When they charged, they moved with a velocity that would leave smaller creatures stunned, their massive feet pounding against the ground, capable of shattering the earth beneath them with each step. Their claws were retractable, allowing them to dig deep into the earth for enhanced stability or to slice through any obstacles they encountered. These claws were capable of cutting through solid rock or piercing reinforced armor, adding another terrifying layer to their offensive capabilities.

The most horrifying aspect of the Ravagers was undoubtedly their head. Their mandibles opened in four separate, grotesque parts, revealing a cavernous maw filled with rows of needle-sharp, serrated teeth. These teeth didn't just tear into flesh—they were designed to inject venom into whatever they touched. The venom itself was a toxic, unstable compound, a concoction that not only liquefied organic material on contact but was also capable of corroding reinforced plating over time. This venom burned and dissolved, leaving nothing but a slurry of flesh and bone behind. It was as if the Ravagers didn't just kill their prey—they erased it, leaving behind nothing but the stench of decay and destruction.

When a Ravager roared, the very air around them seemed to vibrate, the mandibles snapping open in a bone-chilling, cacophonous sound. The deep, guttural clicks that echoed from their throat seemed almost sentient, as though the Ravager were savoring the kill before it even struck. The clicks were a form of communication, signaling dominance, or perhaps locating prey through the subtle bio-electric pulses that were emitted from all living things. The Ravagers didn't rely on sight alone—they could feel their surroundings through these pulses, tracking their prey even in total darkness.

Their eyes—if they could even be called that—were little more than slits sunk deep into their armored skulls. These slits glowed faintly with an ember-like intensity, flickering between blood-red and amber, signaling an intense hunger, an endless drive to hunt and kill. Some claimed that these creatures didn't see like other predators. Rather, they had developed a biological radar, using their heightened senses to detect the electric pulses emitted by living creatures. In a pitch-black environment, this allowed them to track even the smallest movements, giving them an advantage that other creatures—no matter how well camouflaged or hidden—could never escape.

There was no escaping the stench of the Ravagers. When they arrived, their presence was marked by an overwhelming, sickening odor that hung in the air. It was a mixture of burnt metal, rotting flesh, and the acrid stench of venom, a combination that clung to the battlefield long after the battle had ended. This foul scent seeped into the very atmosphere, making it nearly impossible for soldiers to ignore. The smell itself became a psychological weapon, one that made enemies feel as though they were constantly surrounded by decay, hopelessness, and impending death.

The Ravagers didn't just overwhelm their enemies with brute strength—they fought with precision and terror. Every movement, every strike was calculated to maximize destruction. They were not just animals—they were engineered predators, honed through generations of cruel evolution and bioengineering to obliterate everything in their path.

When they charged into battle, it was a terrifying sight. The ground trembled under their weight, their serrated spines whirling as they slashed through anything in their way. The sound of their mandibles snapping open and their acidic spines cutting through metal was deafening. Their eyes glowed with savage hunger, the stench of death following in their wake.

For anyone who faced them, it was a fight for survival—a battle not just against physical strength, but against a force of nature that had been perfected for only one purpose: to destroy.

And when the Ravagers were done, there would be nothing left but the aftermath of their brutal, merciless rampage.

Lucy barely had time to register the Ravager's screech before another was upon her. The second beast leapt with terrifying speed, claws extended, its segmented armor gleaming in the dim battlefield light.

Lucy reacted instantly. She threw herself into a tight roll, the wind of the creature's missed strike grazing against her back. As she came up onto her feet, she turned her torso sharply and swung her glaive in a horizontal arc—the blade caught the Ravager's forelimb mid-swipe, severing it cleanly.

The creature let out a guttural roar, acidic blood spraying from the wound, but Lucy was already moving. She dashed forward, closing the distance, then dropped into a crouch, her legs coiling like springs. The moment the Ravager lunged again, she launched herself upward, flipping over its head.

Mid-air, she twisted her glaive downward, plunging the superheated blade into the creature's exposed nape. The weapon burned through flesh and sinew, the Ravager's body locking up before it crumpled forward, skidding lifelessly across the battlefield.

Lucy landed in a controlled crouch, pulling her glaive free just as another enemy came rushing in.

Ethel's battlefield awareness was razor-sharp. While Lucy danced through the chaos, Ethel controlled the flow of battle, keeping their forces from being overwhelmed.

A pack of Skulkers skittered toward her from the left, their claws raised to tear her apart. Without hesitation, she stomped her foot down, activating her kinetic boots, and sent out a shockwave, the sheer force of it cracking the ground beneath her. The Skulkers were blasted backward, their frail bodies tumbling through the air before slamming into wreckage.

One dodged the blast, darting toward her with unnatural speed. Ethel barely had time to pivot before it lunged, its serrated limbs aimed for her throat—but she was faster.

She angled her gauntlet, channeling energy into her fist. When the creature was inches away, she twisted her hips, adding torque to her swing, and drove her fist into its skull with a resounding boom. The impact sent a visible shockwave through its body, and the Skulker exploded outward, chunks of burning flesh scattering across the battlefield.

Before she could turn, a Howler swooped down from above, its wretched screech building up to a disorienting crescendo.

Ethel smirked.

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