GTS Agent Ch 20: The Days That Led To Destruction, The Desired Answer!

The night sky of Krythara stretched endlessly above the city of Vallorin, its darkness deepened by a looming sense of dread that had hung over its people for years. Rising from the outskirts like an eternal sentinel stood the Wall of Drakorath—a colossal structure forged from the mythical Aethersteel, said to be unbreakable and impervious to all natural forces. On top of the wall, silhouetted against the fading light, stood the Vorlak Knights, the elite soldiers of Krythara, their black steel weapons gleaming faintly in the moonlight.

They watched the barren horizon in silence. Once, beyond the wall, the land had been a thriving expanse of green—a sea of lush fields and forests where life had flourished. But now, those same lands were nothing but cracked dirt and desolation, a permanent scar left by Her—the first Destroyer.

No one would ever forget that day.

The elders spoke of it like a nightmare. One moment the sky had been clear, painted in the hues of twilight, and the next—darkness. A shadow vast and unending had blotted out the sun itself, stretching across the heavens. Then came the sound. A deep, earth-shaking BOOM, a noise so loud it echoed across every corner of the planet, rattling cities and shattering windows. And there, standing in the distance, had emerged the Destroyer.

A woman. Or at least, she looked like one. But no woman of Krythara, nor of any universe, could be so impossibly massive.

She had landed miles from Vallorin, her descent alone leaving a crater so enormous that its edges remained visible even from the tallest towers within the city. Her presence defied reality—her very existence seemed to mock the natural order. Her head rose far above the clouds, vanishing from sight as though she could pierce the heavens themselves. Her curves were breathtaking in scale, so much so that even from a great distance, the citizens of Vallorin could see the great arcs of her hips and the mountainous rise of her breasts, which seemed as though they could challenge the peaks of the Thyrak Range to the east. Her short, windswept blue hair moved lazily in the breeze, a surreal sight for something so unimaginably large.

But what disturbed them most was her stillness.

She didn't move. She didn't attack. She simply stood there, as if watching, waiting. Days passed, and the Destroyer did nothing. It was as though she were a living Titan, a force of nature that had no intention of speaking to those she towered over. Some believed she was a god, others a curse, but none could deny the fear she inspired.

And yet, in the first few days, the people of Krythara tried to understand her.

The Zyren Pilots, an elite division of aerial explorers, were sent forth in their swift and nimble airships, determined to make contact with the towering being. Their crafts, built for speed and precision, shot like silver arrows across the barren plains, buzzing toward her colossal figure.

For a brief moment, they believed they would succeed. One pilot reported getting close enough to see her face—those massive eyes, unblinking and uncaring, scanning the horizon as if she couldn't even see the tiny specks approaching her. But then, her hand moved.

Her fingers alone were larger than entire cities. A single sweep of her arm, so effortless and casual, sent airships spiraling through the sky, shattering on impact with the ground below. Others weren't so lucky—those who veered close enough to her mouth found themselves swallowed by the force of her breath as she exhaled. The gust tore through the air like a hurricane, reducing the crafts to spinning fragments of steel and flame before scattering them into the wind.

The Council of Zheran, Krythara's ruling body, watched these failed attempts in horror. Her indifference, her unintentional power—it was terrifying.

The final straw came when the Ground Vanguard, Krythara's most decorated assault battalion, was sent to engage. The order had been given after much debate: the Destroyer was no friend. If communication was impossible, then action was their only option.

Weapons capable of leveling mountains were prepared. Energy cannons hummed with power, missiles were armed, and armored units advanced across the cracked earth. Thousands of soldiers—brave, desperate—marched toward her titanic feet. From such a distance, her toes alone looked like stone obelisks, unmoving, untouched by the chaos happening below.

"FIRE!" came the command from General Varik, leader of the Vanguard.

A wave of destruction erupted as weapons were unleashed. Missiles streaked across the sky, explosions bloomed in flashes of red and gold, and energy rounds crackled as they shot toward her colossal form.

And yet... nothing.

The attacks were pitiful in comparison to her enormity. Missiles barely reached the tips of her toes before exploding harmlessly. Energy rounds shattered against her skin like sparks against an anvil. Even the loudest blasts, the most concentrated efforts, failed to leave so much as a blemish upon her towering figure.

From the wall, the Vorlak Knights watched in grim silence, their faces pale. General Varik's voice came through their radios, quieter this time. "It's useless..."

The ground trembled, and everyone froze. The Destroyer moved.

Slowly, with a terrifying grace, her foot shifted—just slightly. And yet, that single movement was enough to send shockwaves rippling across the land. Soldiers were thrown off their feet, vehicles toppled, and great clouds of dust exploded outward. The Vanguard began to retreat, though it made little difference. Her presence alone seemed to defy their world, as if Krythara itself was not meant to hold her weight.

As the Great Titan stepped closer to the city, her massive feet shook the ground with each powerful stride. The earth trembled beneath her weight, and the buildings in her wake seemed to shudder as if they feared being crushed by her looming presence. It only took three mighty steps for her to reach the city's edge, and as she halted, she loomed over the metropolis like a dark specter.

Undaunted, she began to disrobe with a fluid motion, tearing away the tattered black fabric that had covered her imposing form. The cloth ripped apart with an eerie sound, revealing inch after inch of scaly skin as she shed her garments like a discarded cloak. Her body glistened in the fading light of day, casting long shadows across the streets below.

The once-oppressive darkness that had shrouded her form was now replaced by an iridescent glow emanating from beneath her skin. It pulsed with a hypnotic rhythm, as if calling out to something deep within those who beheld it. As she continued to strip away the last remnants of her clothing, she stood revealed in all her majestic nudity – towering above the cityscape with skin like polished obsidian and muscles that rippled beneath its surface like waves on a stormy sea.

Her gaze swept over the city's terrified inhabitants, drinking in their fear as they cowered at the base of their own buildings. For one moment, it seemed as though time itself had slowed down around them – frozen into an eternal tableau of terror and awe – before The Great Titan's next move shattered this fragile equilibrium.

"The order has been given." Her voice thundered from above, her massive fingers stroking the massive lips of her vagina. Her moans were like thunder, that shook the very buildings and ground.

Her shaking legs caused the very wind the rumble, as her finger plunged deeper and deeper, until her own fluids began to evade the city below. Her cum being a natural disaster.

She stood amongst the city, moaning and breathing hard. "Three day you have three day to decide to join us or be destroyed, choose wisely.

***

The day had come, and the answer would be given, and the answer, was no, So let there be war.