Chapter 11
The Grotesque Tide
The entity unleashes its full, horrifying might, a maelstrom of flesh and metal. The battlefield becomes a charnel house, the Cybernetic Nazis overwhelmed.
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The air tasted of copper and burning ozone. It wasn't the familiar acrid bite of burnt cordite, but something sharper, more primal. A metallic tang that clawed at the back of my throat and made my eyes water. Around me, the sounds of battle, usually a symphony of desperate courage and brutal efficiency, had dissolved into a chaotic shriek. Not the screams of men, but a guttural, tearing noise, a sound that belonged to something that had never known language, only hunger.
I was crouched behind the shattered remnants of a bakery wall, the once-sweet scent of yeast
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