The ruins of the Navy post groaned in the night wind. Broken towers loomed overhead, and vines coiled across collapsed stone. The air stank of salt and rust, but under it all was something heavier — the weight of expectation.
Tessal stood at the center of the courtyard, heart pounding like a war drum. Around him, machines stirred in the shadows. His swarm. His army. His family.
"From dusk 'til dawn," Garp said, his voice carrying like thunder over the walls. "Hold this ground, brat. That's all you need to do." His grin flashed sharp. "Of course, to do that… you'll have to survive me."
The sun sank, torches flickered, and Tessal gave the order: deploy.
---
The First Wave
Legion scuttled out first, a tide of ants vanishing into cracks and gaps. They wove barricades from scrap and stone, dug shallow pits, and set charges along weak walls. Smog positioned itself on a crumbled watchtower, vents glowing as it pumped out thick gray clouds that billowed down like a living fog.
Screech unfolded its plates and tested its voice, the high-pitched shriek bouncing sharp across stone, setting the air to humming.
Rend's mantis blades gleamed faintly, Venom's scorpion tail clicked into position.
The Trapper Spiders spread into the rafters and beams, spooling webs that hung like invisible snares in the torchlight.
Then came the heavy units. Bulwark, still rolling on its tank treads, positioned itself like a mobile wall at Tessal's flank. Its frame bristled with plating and barrels, each one a promise of ricochet fire.
Beside it uncoiled Crawler. Once just a centipede of steel, now a carrier-beast: its dozens of legs clanged against the stone as its back split into compartments. Legion ants poured from its spine, Ironclads clustered across its plated carapace, and even the Iron Shield Beetle rested in its midsection, ready to deploy. Its mandibles gleamed like butcher's knives, newly forged razor-sharp.
Inside his armor, Tessal's fists clenched. His hopper gun weighed heavy at his side, chamber full of spring-loaded beetle rounds. "This is it," he whispered.
---
The Siege Begins
The first blow was the gate. Garp didn't push, didn't probe — he smashed. Iron screamed as the doors burst inward, splinters and chains flying like shrapnel.
"Hold the line!" Tessal shouted.
Legion swarmed the gap, bodies forming a writhing barricade. Trapper Spiders dropped their nets, catching Garp across the shoulders, the silk stretching taut. For a heartbeat, it looked like he'd be bound. Then his laugh boomed, and the webs tore like paper.
"Not bad! Let's see what else you've got!"
Rend and Venom struck together, blades and stinger flashing. Garp swatted Rend aside, caught Venom's tail, and slammed it into the ground. Sparks flew.
Bulwark rolled forward with a mechanical growl, its treads cutting deep grooves into the courtyard. Panels unfolded, revealing a shield wall bristling with ricochet ports. Tessal ducked behind it and fired his hopper gun. The round pinged, bounced, and struck Garp square in the ribs.
Garp staggered — not hurt, but slowed. That was Tessal's window.
"Crawler—deploy!"
The giant centipede lunged, its razor mandibles slicing across the stone. Its armored back split open, releasing waves of Legion ants who scrambled up Garp's legs, tangling, biting, and slowing his stride. Ironclads poured next, crawling onto Tessal, plating his chest and arms into a suit of clicking armor. Finally, the Iron Shield Beetle detached, sealing over his front like a massive, curved bulwark.
Tessal's heart pounded inside the living armor. He wasn't just controlling the swarm anymore — he was part of it.
---
The Long Night
The battle raged like a storm. Smog thickened the air until the courtyard became a choking cloud. Screech's cry shattered the silence, echoes cutting through the fog. Trapper webs snapped again and again, slowing Garp even if they couldn't hold him.
Bulwark repositioned constantly, its treads grinding stone, firing hopper shells in ricochet arcs. Crawler darted between shadows, slashing with its mandibles, disgorging fresh waves of drones wherever Tessal called for support.
And Tessal himself fought. Ironclads fused to his arms, he swung heavy punches that clanged against Garp's guard. His hopper gun barked, each ricochet a calculated strike. Behind the Iron Shield's curved plates, he absorbed hits that would have flattened him days ago.
Hours passed. Machines broke. Rend lost a blade. Venom's stinger snapped. Half the spiders burned in torchlight. Smog sputtered, vents clogged. Even Crawler lost segments, its body sparking as it dragged itself through the fight.
But Tessal didn't fall. He stood with them, blood on his lip, sweat stinging his eyes, voice raw from shouting commands.
---
Dawn
When the first rays of sunlight speared through the broken towers, Tessal was still there. Bulwark cracked but upright. Crawler limping but alive. Ironclads clinging tight around his battered frame. His gun empty, his lungs burning, but his spirit unbroken.
Garp lowered his fist at last. The grin on his face was different now — heavy, proud, edged with respect.
"You held," he said simply. "Your swarm, your shield, your guts — you held against me."
Tessal swayed on his feet but straightened, the Iron Shield still locked to his chest. Around him, what remained of his swarm clicked and buzzed, a battered orchestra still willing to play.
And as the sun rose higher, Garp let out a booming laugh. "Bwahaha! You're not just a tinkerer anymore, brat. You're a damn fighter!"
For the first time, Tessal believed it too.