Manchester 12 November 2025.
The town reveal the familiar silhouettes of skyscrapers and communication towers.
But what rose from the waters of Manchester Bay was anything but familiar.
At first, it stood like a colossal shadow—its black scales gleaming with a sickly green hue. Thirty meters tall, with yellow eyes piercing the gray mist like infernal beacons. Its claws scraped against the asphalt of Blackfriars Bridge with a metallic screech.
"Holy shit..." muttered the traffic officer on duty, his trembling hand dropping his communicator.
An Alpha-Class Nemesis.
Godzilla—so the Department of Supernatural Affairs archives would later call it—opened its gaping maw and unleashed a roar that shattered windows within a two-hundred-meter radius. The first victims dropped, eardrums burst, blood pouring from their ears.
Then hell broke loose.
With a single swipe of its massive paw, the creature obliterated a public transport vehicle, sending passengers flying through the air. Each of its steps shook the earth, fracturing the foundations of nearby towers.
Mrs. Whitmore, a survivor and witness to the day's horror, would later recount that as she walked her little Roxy through St. Peter's Square, she watched steel and glass structures twenty years old crumble like sand. Green flames erupted, instantly turning her residential complex into an inferno.
At Newton Street Station, Chief Commander Reginald Ashworth was picking up his holographic communicator for the tenth time in five minutes.
"Commander! No—our conventional weapons are useless! The creature... it's even resisting bunker-busting missiles!"
Through the glass wall of his office, he could see the black smoke rising in the distance. Reports were flooding his screen: Manchester Town Hall Clock Tower damaged, Deansgate in ruins, one side of Victoria Bridge collapsed.
"How many dead?" he asked his adjutant, Lieutenant Morrison.
"At least three hundred confirmed, sir. But the rescue teams can't get close. That... thing is spewing something that melts reinforced titanium."
Reginald clenched his fists. In thirty years of service, he'd seen everything: terrorist attacks, worm-type nemesis invasions, even that horrifying case of the Renegade Jack the Ripper. But this... this was beyond comprehension.
His communicator started flashing. A priority call.
"Damn it! Where are the defense Walkers?!"
["Commander Ashworth, the 7th Armored Division is already on site. A team of Rank A Magisters in the city is standing by, and Magister Aldrich is en route."]
"How long?"
["One hour, sir."]
Reginald checked his digital chronometer.
"God help us…"
Twelve mechanical titans burst from the side streets in a concert of servos and clashing armor. Twenty meters tall, their pristine white exoskeletons bore the emblem of the Empire of Britannia. Leading them was Major Harrison's personal Walker, painted in crimson and gold.
["This is Captain Reeves,"] crackled the radio. ["Delta attack formation. Energy weapons authorized. Let's show this bastard what our division is made of!"]
The war machines spread into a fan formation, their articulated legs bracing against the rubble. Their cannons began to glow with a threatening blue light.
["Fire at will!"]
Twelve beams of energy converged on the Nemesis. The explosion lit up the entire district, lifting a cloud of dust and debris. For a moment, hope surged among the pilots.
But it didn't last.
The monster was still standing. Not a scratch on its scales.
"Impossible…" Harrison whispered in his cockpit. "Those cannons can punch through a Carrier-class warship!"
The Nemesis turned toward the walkers, something akin to amusement gleaming in its reptilian eyes.
Its mouth opened.
The atomic beam that followed instantly vaporized three Walkers. Their pilots didn't even have time to scream. The multi-ton war machines disintegrated in a blinding flash.
["Scatter! SCATTER!"] Harrison shouted.
Too late. The creature's tail swept across the battlefield, smashing four more Walkers like cheap toys. Their armored shells crumpled with horrific shrieks.
The five remaining machines attempted a tactical retreat, but the Nemesis was faster than it looked. With a prodigious leap, it landed in their midst, its claws piercing armored cockpits.
Harrison's Walker was the last to fall. Bloodied and broken, the Major managed to send one final radio transmission before his cockpit was crushed:
"This is... Major Harrison... Walkers ineffective... Requesting... Magister intervention..."
In the streets below, police forces were desperately trying to coordinate evacuations. Sergeant Blackwood led a team of officers guiding civilians out of a shattered residential complex.
"This way! Stay together!"
The Nemesis had just torn down the Victoria Museum façade, and debris rained.
A little girl, no older than six, stood crying in the middle of the road, lost. Without hesitation, Blackwood ran to scoop her up, just as a steel beam crashed where she had been standing.
"You're going to be okay, sweetheart," he murmured, holding her close. "The Magisters are coming."
Five figures descended from the sky.
Leading them was Magister Cornelius Blackthorne, his white hair billowing in a wind that existed only for him. To his right, Magister Evelyn Rosecross. To his left, Magister Chen Wei-Ming. Behind them, the twin Magisters Viktor and Anastasia Volkov.
"Immediate evacuation within a one-kilometer radius!" Blackthorne commanded, his voice carrying over the battlefield. "We'll take it from here!"
Relief swept across the faces of the remaining forces.
The Magisters were here. The elite of the elite—those sworn to protect the British Empire from supernatural threats.
Sensing the new threat, the Nemesis turned toward the five mages. Its yellow eyes narrowed. It let out a defiant roar that made even the reinforced glass of nearby skyscrapers tremble.
"Magister Rosecross," Blackthorne ordered, "take the right flank. Magister Chen, the left. Twins, cover us. Let's show this abomination Nemeses don't belong in our cities!"
Evelyn struck first. Her hands ignited with blood-red flames, launching a torrent straight at the beast. The fire slammed into the Nemesis... and bounced harmlessly off its scales like sparks.
"Impossible!"
The creature responded instantly, hurling a jet of green acid. Evelyn barely dodged, but a few drops hit her left arm. She screamed in pain as her sleeve dissolved.
Chen leapt in, his body glowing gold. He struck the creature's front leg with a thunderous blow, but it didn't even flinch. With a lazy swipe, the monster sent Chen crashing through the ruins of a bookstore.
"Chen!"
Raising her hands, Anastasia summoned a storm of ice. Razor-sharp spears erupted from the ground, slamming into the creature's belly. This time, they pierced the scales, spilling ink-black blood.
The Nemesis howled in fury and pain. Its tail lashed out, shattering the ice spikes and narrowly missing Anastasia.
"It's tougher than expected!" Blackthorne shouted. "Stay sharp!"
Viktor Volkov joined his sister, lightning dancing between his fingers before striking the creature dead center. The electricity surged through its body, making it convulse and frying building screens for blocks.
"My turn!"
Blackthorne raised his staff. A sphere of pure energy grew at its tip, swelling to the size of a Walker.
The blast struck the Nemesis with the force of a missile. The explosion lit up the district, and the shockwave shattered the last of the windows within a kilometer.
When the light faded... the Nemesis was still standing. Wounded, smoking, but alive—and furious.
What followed was a massacre.
The Nemesis's mouth opened unnaturally wide. A beam of destructive energy tore through the air.
Evelyn didn't have time to dodge. The blast hit her squarely, vaporizing her instantly in a scream of agony.
"NO!"
Viktor, consumed by rage, charged the beast, summoning dozens of lightning bolts from the sky. He scaled the creature's leg, pounding its scales with electrified fists. But the Nemesis grabbed him between its claws—and crushed him. The sound of breaking bones echoed even over the beast's roar.
Anastasia screamed in despair as her brother was crushed like an insect. She released all her power at once, transforming the surrounding air into a polar blizzard.
The storm descended upon Manchester with near-apocalyptic force. Temperatures plunged, pipes froze instantly, and the glass of ruined towers shattered from the cold. The creature staggered under the icy onslaught, frost crawling over its scales.
Anastasia now floated several meters above the ground, at the eye of the storm. Her pale-blonde hair whipped around her tear-streaked, furious face.
"DIE!"
A three-meter spear of ice shot from her joined palms, flying straight toward the creature's left eye.
The spear drove deep into its socket with a sickening crunch. Black blood sprayed out, sizzling through the air and burning asphalt like acid. The beast roared, staggered, and in a convulsion of pain, slammed its front leg into the ground...
The impact shattered the magical ice source beneath—the energy-soaked asphalt cracked, split, and was pulverized. Temperature shot back up. The wind died. The frost melted in seconds.
Anastasia, drained of magic, fell back to the ground, her body too weak to rise. She tried to move—but her limbs refused.
The Nemesis, now half-blind, slowly turned to face her. Its blood dripped onto the ground, forming corrosive pools that hissed as they touched steel and concrete.
"Anastasia, move!"