Two miles across the frozen expanse, the Glacial Titan took its first forward stride.
THUUUUU-DOOOOOM.
The impact of Ymir’s front two arms striking the black ice sent a size-six ground-shaking blast wave racing through the volcano bowl bedrock. A crack three feet wide ripped through the ice sheet, racing across the frozen floor toward Arthur’s position.
Arthur didn’t look down at the fracturing ice. His eyes remained locked to the eye of his Monocle Taxonomy Loupe, his fingers adjusting the fine focal ring to penetrate the titan’s cryo-iron-hard metal armor.
The sight feed translated the titan’s inner musculoskeletal stonework into a high-resolution, three-space-folding light-projected wireframe:
“Here is the careful breakdown, squad,” Arthur narrated. His voice carrying the was calm, total power of a chief surgeon walking his residents through an impossible amputation. “Listen carefully. Ymir’s physical scale is huge, but its internal body leverage are severely compromised by ice-cold decay.”
He pointed his glove toward the titan’s lower limbs:
“First: observe the four lower walking legs. The knee tendons are composed of spliced cetacean connective tissue, glass-fused by one hundred and forty years of exposure to minus one hundred and sixty-degree cold. The tissue has lost all living stretch. At this heat, the tendon fibers behave like brittle acrylic plastic. A high-speed shearing strike will snap the lateral stabilizers like dry twigs.”
