Space & Time TAV

[This is made for my Fanfic Crossover - Kuroinu: The Golden Lion's Mantle]

The tank commander dragged himself up from inside, moving like he didn’t know what pain was anymore — just acting on pure habit, muscle memory. His helmet was gone. Blood ran from a long gash above his eye, curling down the side of his face in a slow drip.

He coughed once, hard — the kind of cough that comes from deep in the lungs. Maybe cracked ribs. Maybe worse.

He slid off the edge of the tank.

THUD.

Hit the snow hard, one boot catching, slipping. He tried to rise — one arm clawing for traction, the other pressed tight to his ribs. There was more blood under him now.

He groaned and rolled onto his side.

Then, with effort, he lifted his head.

And saw it.

The thing that had done this.

Twelve feet tall. Still. Silent. Wreathed in smoke and steam.
It looked down at him with no face — only five glowing teal lights staring from the head like sensors, eyes, or both. Like a monster meant to see everything and feel nothing.

The commander froze. Stared.

His pupils shrank.

“…Bozhe moy…”
(...My God...)

He didn’t reach for a weapon.
There wasn’t one.

His sidearm was gone. Rifle lost. Just him, on the ground, bleeding, shaking, staring up at something that didn’t belong in the world.

He raised a hand weakly. Not to fight. Just… reaching.

His sidearm was gone. Rifle lost. Just him, on the ground, bleeding, shaking, staring up at something that didn’t belong in the world.

He raised a hand weakly. Not to fight. Just… reaching.

The Giant stepped forward.

The Russian flinched, bracing for it.

But nothing happened.

Just a voice, through its helmet. Human. Detached.

"[Viking Two to Overwatch. Single survivor. Unarmed.]"

Another pause. Then:

"Ignore. Mission priority is Valkyrie Four. Execute en route. Radio silent until contact."

The man on the ground blinked. Eyes bloodshot. Chest rising fast. He wasn’t crying, but he wasn’t far from it. His voice cracked through dry lips, using his limited knowledge of the English language, he picked up:

What are you...?

There was no reply.

Just:

"[Wilco.]"

The figure’s thrusters spun up again. Snow whipped away in a circle from the force. Heat rippled off the armor, turning nearby frost to mist. Then it rose — slow, steady — into the air. The man last saw it disappearing into the fog and darkness, teal lights fading upward into the sky, until there was only cloud cover and snow.

His eyes fluttered.

And his world went black.