The three Colossals crawled, dragging themselves closer despite shattered limbs and bleeding wounds.
Every meter closed made the earth tremble harder, like the heartbeat of something buried.
The glaive‑man roared and hurled another shockwave.
The woman in black armor fired until her rifle barrel glowed white-hot.
The old man forced another SWAP, blood running from his nose, his knees buckling from the effort.
Nothing stopped them.
Nothing even slowed them.
Then they touched.
The left Colossal's ruined arm clamped onto the center's shoulder.
The right one's massive hand slammed against it's opposite side.
...
For a heartbeat, they seemed to simply hold there, three titans huddled in an embrace.
Cid squinted through the steam and smoke.
"They're not fusing?" he murmured.
"No," Yuri said, voice shaking. "Look."
Cracks began to spread along the Colossals' hides.
Thin glowing fissures crawling across their bodies.
Not red.
Not orange.
