Vortex Origins
Chapter 99: The lava and the Horn

Chapter 99: The lava and the Horn

Max slammed his palm against the surface of his wristwatch.

"Deploy Max Charlie, Delta, Echo, and Foxtrot. Fire on the Tier 6s. Now."

A sharp beep answered him. Overhead, the shadow of the Ironhold flagship split open. Four massive figures dropped through the smoke—armored machines, each as large as Alpha and Beta. Their chests bore names in white: CHARLIE, DELTA, ECHO, FOXTROT.

The machines landed hard. Earth cracked beneath their weight.

Without pause, they split—two veering toward the minotaur, the other two sprinting at the salamander.

High above, the ship’s cannons lit up. A barrage of crimson lances rained down on the battlefield. The minotaur raised its arms as the beams struck, its black hide sizzling but refusing to tear. It didn’t stop. It didn’t even stagger.

Then Charlie and Delta collided with it, metal slamming into muscle.

The minotaur crashed into the dirt, snarling as the bots pinned it. One climbed onto its chest, driving a reinforced knee down. The other grappled its arms.

A sound split the sky—a distant whistle.

Then the diamond pole fell, a spear of judgment. It struck the minotaur square in the chest, digging deep.

But the beast roared.

Its arm surged upward, swatting Charlie away like scrap. Delta reached for the pole—too late. The minotaur gripped its head, lifted it clean off the ground, and slammed it into the earth.

The bot’s limbs sparked. Then nothing.

The minotaur rose.

It yanked the pole from its chest and drove it through Delta’s skull. Circuits burst. The bot twitched once—then lay still.

The monster turned toward the wall again, steps shaking the ground.

On the other side, Echo and Foxtrot closed in on the salamander. The creature twisted fast. Both machines were snatched mid-step—one in each clawed hand.

Before they could react, the salamander lifted them high, using their armored bodies like living shields.

The lasers came down again. Red streaks filled the air.

None reached the creature.

It kept walking.

The bots sparked in its grip, shielding it from the worst of the fire.

And it was closing in fast.

Ironhold’s wall stood ahead.

And behind it—everyone else.

Kael hovered above the battlefield, sweat streaking down his face, flames still pulsing from his outstretched arms. Far in the distance below, the fire wall held—but barely. Hollowbound corpses littered the base, still twitching. Beyond them, chaos raged.

On the Ironhold wall, guards held position. One of them, Chris, leveled his arm forward. A stream of concentrated laser fire burst from the mounted cannons, locking onto the advancing salamander.

But it didn’t flinch.

With a sharp motion, the creature lowered the battered bots in its hands. Their scorched frames absorbed the full brunt of the laser barrage, sizzling under the heat. Smoke coiled upward.

Kael saw it coming. He reached out with both arms, fire bursting downward.

A new wall of flame erupted in front of Ironhold.

But the salamander didn’t stop.

It hurled the bots like battering rams. They struck the flame, tore through it, and kept going. A second later, the creature followed.

The moment it hit Ironhold’s wall, the world shook.

Steel buckled. Masonry burst. Entire sections of the wall crumbled under the impact. Buildings behind it collapsed like paper. Screams followed—short, sharp, then gone.

Those caught in the wave didn’t stand a chance.

Kael watched in horror as flames scattered, reduced to glowing embers in the wind. The wall was gone.

Max stood frozen. His fists clenched, jaw tight, as he stared down at the path of destruction. Crushed bodies lay beneath rubble. Entire streets were erased.

The salamander didn’t slow.

It charged through the wreckage, feet stomping through what remained of homes and soldiers alike. Each step tore new holes in the earth.

Then, it found its target.

The worm.

The salamander didn’t hesitate. It lifted the broken bots again and slammed them into the worm’s body. A blast of force ripped through the air, sending debris and gore in every direction.

The worm screeched, twisting its body, trying to rear back. But the salamander was already there. A clawed hand slammed into the worm’s head. The other gripped tight.

And then it pulled.

The worm thrashed, trying to retreat into the hole it came from. But the salamander’s grip held firm—fiery veins lighting up across its arms.

The ground trembled.

And the worm screamed again as it began to rise.

On the far end of Ironhold, the wall groaned—then burst.

A one horned head tore through the steel like paper.

The minotaur didn’t slow.

Its massive frame crashed forward, every step flattening the buildings in its path. Dust rose in thick waves behind it. Stone crumbled under its hooves. Its black eyes locked onto the worm.

It slammed its skull into the creature’s side. A sickening crunch echoed out. The worm shrieked, its long body coiling. Then a second force crashed into its head from the front—the salamander.

Now one on each end, the monsters dug in.

The minotaur grabbed the midsection, hoisting with both arms. The salamander clutched the head, fire rippling across its limbs. The worm’s tail thrashed as it was dragged from the depths of its tunnel. The hole it had come from collapsed behind it.

Then the pulling began.

The ground cracked.

The worm shrieked louder, its scream cutting through the battlefield.

One tug.

Then another.

Its flesh stretched.

A moment of stillness—and then, with a wet rip, the worm split down the middle.

Blood sprayed high into the air.

Both titans hurled their halves in opposite directions. The massive corpse twisted mid-air before crashing outside the walls in a rain of gore and shattered bone.

Silence swept across Ironhold.

Up in the hangar tower, Eir stood still. Behind him, the elders watched in horror, their faces pale. Ash had already pulled some settlers of ironhold away to safety, but even from here, the battle was too much to bear.

Eir’s hand trembled as he wiped his face. His voice didn’t come.

Down below, the two titans turned.

Salamander. Minotaur.

Eyes locked.

Their muscles tensed. Then they charged. The ground shook as they ran and Ironhold watched.

They clashed.

Flesh struck flesh. The ground trembled.

The minotaur drove forward like a battering ram, fists swinging wide. The salamander ducked under the first blow, its claws raking across the beast’s thigh. Black blood sprayed, but the minotaur didn’t falter. It roared, grabbed the salamander by the neck, and slammed it into a half-standing wall. The stone shattered.

The salamander burst out of the rubble, mouth open—lava hissed in its throat, but the minotaur moved faster. A fist met its jaw. The salamander skidded across the ground, carving a line through dirt and broken bodies. The air was thick with ash and blood.

Ironhold quaked.

Soldiers screamed. Buildings groaned and toppled. Fire climbed rooftops. The earth cracked beneath the weight of the titans.

They met again.

This time, the salamander struck first. Claws dug into the minotaur’s arm. Its body twisted, slamming its tail into the minotaur’s ribs. But the beast barely reacted—then struck.

A punch to the chest, another to the face.

The salamander stumbled.

The minotaur roared, raised both fists high, and smashed them down. The blow left a crater. For a breath, only dust moved.

Then lava shot out of the crater like a geyser.

It hit the minotaur’s face full on.

The monster screamed, clutching its face, staggering back. Skin peeled. Smoke rose.

The salamander rose from the broken earth, breathing fire through its teeth. Its body glowed red, heat pouring from its scales. The minotaur lunged again, swinging its massive head—its one horn aimed like a spear.

It drove forward—

But the salamander caught it.

Claws gripped the base of the horn. The minotaur strained, muscles bulging, trying to break free. But the salamander held it still... then forced it down.

Its head bent.

Its body followed.

Then came the fire.

A flood of lava poured from the salamander’s open mouth, washing over the minotaur’s back. The beast howled. Its skin bubbled and cracked. Then it began to melt.

First the back.

Then the spine.

Then a hole opened, carving straight through to the chest.

The minotaur dropped to its knees, chest heaving. Still alive. Still trying to rise.

The salamander stepped forward and planted its foot on the gaping hole in the minotaur’s chest.

Then pulled.

With a sickening rip, the minotaur’s arms tore free from its body.

The horned giant crashed to the ground—still burning.

Dead.

Ironhold stood silent for a breath. Then the cries began again. The chaos hadn’t ended. Walls broken. Streets flooded with fleeing guards. Children pulled from under rubble. Flames rising through the city heart.

The salamander stood above it all.

Still. Silent.

Then its chest rose.

And it roared.

A sound like a volcano breaking open.

The fire didn’t stop.

And the battle wasn’t over.