[Chapter 1: An Unexpected Summoning]
Liberio Internment Zone!
A massive open-air theater stretched 40 meters across, packed with dignitaries from around the world. Humans of all races gathered to witness the spectacle put forth by the Tybur family, keepers of an ancient, terrifying power. The air hummed with tension as nobles and military officials sat shoulder to shoulder, breaths held in anticipation.
Willy Tybur stood center stage, his 172-centimeter frame dwarfed by the massive backdrop depicting the history of Titans. Sweat beaded on his forehead, sliding down his aristocratic features as he approached the climax of his performance. His immaculate suit hugged his lean body while his neatly combed hair glistened under the artificial lighting. The eyes of the international audience were fixed solely on him, hanging onto his every word.
"AND SO I PROCLAIM ON THIS DAY!!" Willy's voice thundered across the theater, his arms spread wide in a theatrical gesture. "TO THE ENEMY FORCES ON PARADIS ISLAND, THIS IS A DECLARATION OF…"
"WAR!!"
The wooden platform beneath his feet suddenly splintered. Time slowed to a crawl as massive, muscular fingers erupted through the stage.
The Attack Titan!
Its eyes glowed with murderous intent as it rose, fifteen meters of primal rage incarnate. Before Willy could react, its massive fist closed around his body.
'So this is how it ends,' Willy thought, feeling his ribs crack under the pressure. 'Just as planned...'
The Attack Titan's jaws opened wide, a cavern of death. The last thing Willy saw was a flash of teeth as his crushed body was swallowed whole.
Darkness.
Void.
Nothingness.
And then, something changed…
…
Encarta Continent! Summoner Tower, 145th Floor!
The circular chamber spanned 20 meters in diameter, with a soaring ceiling 6 meters high. Ancient stone walls bore the weight of countless centuries, scarred with the symbols of mages who had come before. At the centre lay a grand magic circle, 10 meters across, intricate patterns etched into the marble floor glowing with ethereal blue light.
Seven elderly mages stood equidistant around the circle, their wrinkled hands raised in supplication. Their robes, made of the finest silk dyed in deep blue, billowed around their frail bodies. Each garment was embroidered with golden thread depicting monstrous creatures - a badge of honor that marked them as Summoners. The eldest among them, Chief Summoner Lorheim, stood at the northernmost point of the circle, his long white beard reaching his waist while his sunken eyes focused intently on the magic at hand.
"Pour more mana!" Lorheim commanded, his voice cracking with age and exertion. "The ritual requires maximum power to breach the void between worlds and summon the strongest monster!"
Mystic Art--Grand Summoning!
The incantations reached their crescendo as the seven mages channelled their collective mana into the circle. The blue light intensified, pulsing with the heartbeat of raw magical energy. The air crackled with power, distorting reality as the boundary between worlds thinned to nothing.
With a deafening crack, a body materialized at the center of the circle. The mages stumbled back, momentarily blinded by the flash of light. As their vision cleared, confusion replaced triumph on their weathered faces.
Before them lay the broken form of a human man, blood pooling beneath his crushed limbs. His elegant suit was torn and soaked crimson, his limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Despite this, his face remained strangely serene, as though he had accepted his fate long before this moment.
"What is this?" hissed Volmar, the Second Summoner; his bushy eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "We expended all efforts on a Grand Summoning for a dying human?"
Chief Lorheim approached the circle cautiously, his three-circle Force Push and five-circle Monster Summoning magics at the ready. "This was not our intention. We required a creature robust enough to withstand the charging Zergs, to give our mages sufficient time to cast their spells."
"Our existing summons have proven inadequate time and again," Lorheim continued, circling the broken body. "The Summoner Tower's influence wanes with each failed defense. The other Mage Towers press for our dissolution, claiming our branch of magic has become obsolete."
"Perhaps we should terminate the ritual and try again," suggested Kalina, the only female among the seven, her voice heavy with disappointment. "This human is nearly dead. What use could he possibly—"
Her words died in her throat as the body on the floor twitched. The assembled mages watched in silent wonder as the man's crushed limbs began to straighten, bones knitting back together with audible cracks. Steam rose from his wounds as flesh mended itself at an alarming rate.
"Impossible!" gasped Volmar, taking an involuntary step back. "He possesses regenerative abilities!"
"Could this be..." Lorheim leaned closer, his aged, cloudy eyes widening. "A creature disguised as a human?"
Before any of them could react further, the man's eyes snapped open. Wild, disoriented, filled with terror and pain. His mouth opened in a scream that seemed to contain all the suffering of his world.
"GAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"
Without warning, a blinding bolt of lightning crashed through the ceiling, shattering the ancient stonework as if it were paper. It struck the man directly, engulfing him in electrical energy that should have incinerated him instantly. Instead, the lightning seemed to fuel a transformation.
For an instant, a mystical tree displaying various paths manifested and vanished.
The man's body expanded, flesh and bone reconfiguring in a storm of steam and electricity. The mages watched in horror as their summoned "weapon" grew to colossal proportions, bursting through multiple floors of the tower as it reached its full height.
Warhammer Titan!
A fifteen-meter colossus stood where the broken man had been, its body a perfect blend of muscle and hardened crystal. Its face was an expressionless mask with empty eye sockets that somehow still conveyed boundless rage. Crystal formations jutted from its shoulders and back, forming an armor that glistened like diamonds under the sunlight now pouring through the ruined ceiling. Its proportions were almost humanoid but exaggerated to terrifying effect, with arms strong enough to shatter stone and legs that could crush buildings with a single step.
The Titan's jaw unhinged, revealing rows of steaming teeth. It released a roar that shook the Summoner Tower, rupturing the eardrums of all seven mages who collapsed in agony, blood streaming from their ears.
With fluid, graceful movements that belied its massive size, the Titan extended its right hand. Crystal formations coalesced from seemingly nowhere, flowing like liquid before solidifying into a massive hammer that measured 10 meters from end to end, its head larger than an oxcart.
Chief Lorheim stared up at the monstrosity, blood trickling from his ears, realization and despair washing over his jaded features. "I'm afraid…"
He whispered, his words lost in the aftermath of the Titan's roar as the shadow of a hammerhead dwarfed his being. "We've doomed ourselves."
The Warhammer Titan raised its massive crystalline weapon high above its head, the sun glinting off its surface, casting prismatic reflections across the ruined summoning chamber.
It then descended toward Chief Lorheim's with unstoppable force.