Chapter 66: Demon Invasion - Part 2

Chapter 66: Demon Invasion - Part 2

Aboard the FS Chevalier Paul, a French Navy air-defense destroyer stationed in the Mont Saint-Michel bay as part of the fleet anchored near Brest, Master-at-Arms Henri Delacroix was making his rounds below deck. The vessel, a symbol of naval might and precision, had seen little action recently, its crew focused on routine drills and maintenance. Days ago, Captain Marc Duval had gathered the men and revealed the news of a classified operation. "We are to provide fire support and escort for an important fleet. Details are sparse, but remember, the mission is of the utmost importance," he had said, his voice unwavering but eyes betraying a hint of the unknown they were sailing into.

Henri had thought little of it at the time. The French Navy often participated in missions shrouded in secrecy, and in his years of service, he had learned to go with the flow. Yet tonight, something in the air felt different—thick, heavy, almost electric. The tension aboard Chevalier Paul was palpable, and the routine felt anything but ordinary. 

Suddenly, the vessel's alarm screamed to life, breaking the uneasy quiet of the sea. Red lights flashed across every corner, and the wail was followed by the unmistakable sound of explosions above deck. The very bones of the ship seemed to rattle as distant booms echoed through the metal hull. Henri's stomach lurched with each shudder of the ship. His radio crackled to life with a rushed voice: "All hands, to battle stations. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill!"

Henri and his squad leaped into action, bolting through the narrow corridors toward the upper decks. The ship was alive with movement, as sailors rushed past each other in a well-practiced choreography of war, but the sharpness in their eyes betrayed their fear. When the team burst onto the deck, they were greeted by a sight none of them were prepared for.

Above the ship, the once-inky black night sky had transformed into a hellish canvas. Blood-red clouds swirled ominously, forming a colossal vortex overhead, their glow illuminating the ocean like a demonic storm. Piercing through the crimson sky were massive, winged creatures, barely visible against the gloom but for the shine of the Chevalier Paul's searchlights. The flying monstrosities screeched as they descended upon the fleet, their forms illuminated by the flashing muzzles of AA guns and the fierce beams of searchlights from every ship in the fleet.

"My god, what are those things?" one of Henri's comrades muttered, his face pale as he clutched his rifle.

"Doesn't matter! Defend the ship!" Henri barked, gripping his FAMAS tightly as he rushed to a nearby station. The air defense guns roared to life around him, spewing a cacophony of automatic fire into the night, tracer rounds lighting up the sky like a web of fire. The ship shuddered as its surface-to-air missiles streaked toward the demonic swarm, exploding in fiery bursts, but for every creature that fell, two more seemed to emerge from the swirling clouds above.

Henri took cover behind a rail as a wave of high-pitched shrieks filled the air, mixing with the sounds of gunfire and the rumble of the sea. A squad of winged horrors swooped low over the deck, talons extended, their leathery wings casting long shadows as they aimed for the sailors manning the deck guns. One of the beasts collided with a turret, smashing the gunner beneath its hulking frame, its claws tearing through steel as easily as flesh.

"Get to the AA guns!" Henri ordered, pointing at the now unmanned turret. He and two others rushed toward it, dodging debris and the bodies of their fallen comrades. Henri felt the heat of a nearby explosion sear his skin as one of the winged creatures was blown apart mid-flight by a missile, its charred remains raining down onto the deck. 

Henri reached the AA gun, his fingers trembling as he grabbed hold of the controls, eyes scanning the skies for their next target. "Fire!" he yelled, his voice drowned out by the cacophony of battle. The gun roared, spitting round after round into the sky, tearing through the ranks of the flying creatures. But it wasn't enough. More of them came, faster, angrier.

Suddenly, a deafening roar echoed across the ocean. Henri's eyes widened in horror as a massive winged demon, larger than the rest, broke through the clouds, its red eyes glowing like embers in the night. It made a beeline for Chevalier Paul, its maw wide open, jagged teeth reflecting the glow of the fires raging across the ship. 

"Brace yourselves!" Henri shouted as the creature swooped low. The AA gunner beside him let loose a barrage of fire, but the beast twisted in mid-air, dodging the rounds with terrifying agility. The creature slammed into the ship's deck, its weight shaking the destroyer to its core. It let out a guttural roar as it tore into the nearest sailor, flinging him into the air like a ragdoll.

Henri scrambled backward, heart pounding in his chest as he fired his rifle at the creature, the bullets barely phasing its thick hide. The monster turned its gaze toward him, eyes burning with malevolence, before charging.

In the midst of the chaos, the sailors fought back fiercely. Henri's comrades poured every ounce of firepower they could muster into the demons. Some used shoulder-launched missile systems, the blasts powerful enough to momentarily slow the larger creatures. Others fought hand-to-hand, wielding anything they could grab as makeshift weapons against the smaller monsters that had landed on deck. The steel grates of the ship were slick with blood, the bodies of both sailors and demons littering the deck.

Henri watched in horror as another massive beast slammed into the side of the ship, the impact buckling the hull slightly. The ship groaned in response, alarms blaring as the structural integrity was strained under the assault.

"Focus fire on the big one!" came the shout of an officer through the radio. "We need to keep the deck clear!"

Henri steadied himself, gritting his teeth as the sound of missiles launching filled the air. The barrage of explosives hurtled toward the larger demon, but it was still standing, still roaring defiantly despite the damage. The sailors and marines of Chevalier Paul continued their desperate defense, knowing that if the demons reached the ship's core, all would be lost.

Henri continued to fire relentlessly at the incoming horde, his heart pounding in his chest as he fought to maintain control amid the chaos. The sky was still alive with winged demons, and though the Chevalier Paul's anti-aircraft guns blazed with fury, there seemed to be no end to the monstrous swarm. Sweat dripped from Henri's brow as he aimed his rifle at one of the smaller creatures swooping low over the deck. He fired, hitting it square in the chest, but before he could catch his breath, a deafening crash echoed through the air.

An enormous rock—easily the size of a small building—slammed into the ocean near the center of the fleet, sending a towering wall of seawater cascading over the decks. Henri was knocked off his feet as the wave slammed into him, the freezing water soaking him to the bone as it drenched the ship and everything on it. He gasped for air, wiping the saltwater from his eyes, and struggled to regain his footing amid the slippery deck.

"What the hell was that?" one of his comrades shouted, coughing up seawater as he pushed himself to his feet.

Henri shook his head, wide-eyed, and turned to the source of the attack. His stomach dropped when he saw what awaited them on the shore. Towering over the coastline, their enormous figures illuminated by the fire and chaos of the battle, stood a legion of giants—well over a hundred of them. Each one was as tall as a building, their grotesque, twisted forms barely human, with limbs thick as tree trunks. They bent down, their massive hands scooping up boulders with ease before hurling them with terrifying precision toward the fleet.

The destroyer shuddered as the next barrage of rocks hurtled through the air, several of them smashing into the water perilously close to the ships. Though none had struck the vessels directly yet, the impacts sent tidal waves crashing over the decks, soaking the crew and making footing nearly impossible.

"Giants on the coast!" a voice barked over the intercom, followed by a rush of orders from the ship's command. "All batteries, target the giants. Engage at maximum range! Air-defense systems, continue repelling airborne hostiles."

The ship's turrets, which had been trained on the sky, now swiveled toward the shoreline. Henri watched as the deck guns roared to life, their barrels spitting fire as they unleashed a volley of shells toward the distant giants. The Chevalier Paul's missile launchers followed suit, the hatches opening as the guided projectiles screamed through the night, their glowing trails arcing toward the enemy.

The first few missiles struck their targets with earth-shattering force, detonating among the ranks of the giants. Several of the massive creatures staggered, their towering forms briefly obscured by the blasts. But as the smoke cleared, to Henri's horror, many of the giants were still standing. Wounded, perhaps, but very much alive. They roared in fury, their voices a guttural, inhuman sound that reverberated across the water.

"God help us," someone muttered beside Henri.

Despite the barrage from the ship's guns, the giants continued their assault, hurling more boulders with terrifying strength and accuracy. Another wave of rocks slammed into the ocean, sending shockwaves through the water. One particularly massive projectile struck a nearby frigate, Surcouf, with a sickening crunch. The ship's superstructure buckled under the impact, and Henri watched in horror as the vessel listed to one side, taking on water.

"We can't take much more of this!" one of the sailors yelled, desperation creeping into his voice as he struggled to reload his weapon. Henri knew he was right. The giants' attacks, combined with the relentless onslaught of the flying demons, were overwhelming the fleet.

"Keep firing!" Henri shouted, though his own voice was starting to waver. He aimed at the nearest creature, one of the smaller winged demons still swooping low over the deck. His shot struck true, and the demon screeched as it tumbled from the sky, slamming into the deck with a wet thud. But there was no time to celebrate—the situation was spiraling out of control.

Amid the chaos, Henri caught a glimpse of the coastal battlefield. He could see the massive shapes of the giants still moving, hurling rocks as they advanced, unphased by the artillery barrage raining down on them. The Chevalier Paul and the other ships in the fleet were firing everything they had, but the sheer numbers of the enemy were staggering.

"Get to the secondary guns!" came another order through the intercom. "We need all firepower on those giants!"

Henri and his squad scrambled toward the ship's secondary armaments, their boots splashing through the water that now sloshed across the deck. He could feel the deck rumbling beneath his feet as the larger guns continued to fire, the ship itself shaking with each recoil. The acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air, mixing with the salt and blood.

As Henri reached one of the secondary gun stations, he glanced back at the sky. The winged demons were still coming, though their numbers seemed to have thinned somewhat. The Chevalier Paul's air defenses were holding—for now. But it was the giants that were the real threat now. If they weren't stopped, the entire fleet would be destroyed.

Henri took control of the gun, his hands trembling as he aimed at one of the giants. The creature was easily over fifty feet tall, its hulking form silhouetted against the burning coastline. He squeezed the trigger, the gun kicking back with a violent force as it unleashed a barrage of shells toward the monster.

The first few rounds struck the giant in the chest, causing it to stagger. Henri fired again, this time aiming for its head. The shells hit their mark, and with a deafening roar, the giant collapsed, its massive body crashing to the ground with a sound like thunder.

But there was no time to celebrate. For every giant that fell, it seemed like two more took its place. And the ship's ammunition stores were not infinite. Henri could feel the fatigue setting in—his muscles ached, and his ears rang from the constant barrage of gunfire and explosions.

He glanced over at Lucas, who was manning a nearby gun, his face set in grim determination. Despite the chaos around them, the two men exchanged a brief nod, a silent acknowledgment of the fight they were in for.

As another boulder sailed through the air, narrowly missing the ship, Henri gritted his teeth and prepared to fire again. The battle was far from over, and they would need every ounce of firepower and courage to survive the onslaught.

Henri's muscles ached, his every movement a battle against fatigue and fear. The onslaught was relentless, and despite the firepower unleashed from every ship in the fleet, the horde seemed endless. His gun clicked dry, the barrel too hot to touch, and he frantically fumbled to reload as his comrades screamed commands over the din of battle. The giants continued their assault, hurling boulders at the ships, each crash sending tidal waves of destruction across the decks.

But then, Henri's heart nearly stopped. He saw them—every single giant along the coast bent down, their massive hands scooping up colossal stones. In one terrifying, unified motion, they hurled the boulders toward the fleet, forming what could only be described as a wall of death. The sky darkened under the shadow of hundreds of rock projectiles, hurtling through the air like meteors sent to annihilate them all.

Henri's breath caught in his throat. He dropped to his knees, the sheer weight of the moment crushing his spirit. His mind went blank, and then, in the silence of his soul, he thought of them—his daughter, just two years old, and his son, barely five. Their smiling faces flashed before his eyes, their laughter, their innocence. His heart broke as he whispered, voice trembling, "Amélie… Luc… I'm so sorry. Papa's not coming home next week." Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the sea spray and the blood of battle. His hands shook as he closed his eyes, accepting the end.

But then, the sound of thunder. Not from the sky, but from the sea itself.

Henri's eyes flew open. The air was filled with the deafening crack of thunderbolts, one after another, exploding in the sky above. He watched in shock as the wall of boulders, mere seconds from obliterating the fleet, was suddenly shattered—each one struck by a blinding bolt of lightning that vaporized them into dust. The sea rumbled with the aftermath, the echoes of the thunder still ringing in his ears.

Henri stood in awe, blinking through the smoke and chaos. The sky, once filled with red clouds and demonic wings, seemed to clear just slightly. And then, a shout from one of his comrades—"Look! There, in the sky!"

All around, sailors were pointing to the heavens, their faces a mixture of awe and disbelief. A searchlight from the Chevalier Paul swung upward, followed by beams from every ship in the fleet, converging on a single figure. High above them, suspended in the night sky, stood a man. Clad in a long, black trench coat and a formal suit, his face obscured by a mask. He held a crimson book in one hand, its strange glow visible even from the deck of the destroyer. He raised his free arm, gesturing as though commanding the very elements.

Henri's heart raced. Who was this man? He seemed unreal, an apparition of power and mystery, standing alone against the demonic tide.

Suddenly, the clouds above parted, revealing the dark night sky—and through that gap came a rain of fire. Meteors, hundreds of them, rained down from the heavens, slamming into the giants with devastating force. One after another, the towering behemoths were struck, their massive bodies crumbling under the celestial bombardment. The earth shook with each impact, the once invincible giants now reduced to smoldering ruins.

Henri couldn't believe his eyes. The threat—the overwhelming force that had nearly destroyed them—was gone, obliterated by this impossible storm.

Then, the figure in the sky moved again, this time pulling a small radio from his coat. The voice that crackled through the fleet's communications was cold, authoritative, and undeniably human. "Overwatch to all ships. The giant threat has been temporarily neutralized. Focus all firepower on the remaining demonic entities in the sky. And avoid shooting me. I'm the man in black marked by your searchlights."

Henri exchanged glances with the other sailors around him, their expressions just as bewildered as his own. Who was this man? What had just happened? They didn't know, but one thing was clear—he had saved them, at least for now.

The voice of the Chevalier Paul's captain boomed across the ship's intercom, filled with newfound resolve. "All units, follow this man's orders. I want every gun, every missile, and every sailor focused on those damned demons! For France, open fire!"

Henri snapped out of his daze, his training kicking in as he rushed back to his station. The rest of the fleet followed suit, the roar of gunfire and missile launches filling the air once more. This time, though, it was different. The demons were still numerous, but with the giants gone, the fleet had the upper hand.

The sky lit up with tracer rounds, SAMs, and flak fire, as the entire French naval fleet coordinated their assault. The man in black remained a sentinel in the sky, a beacon of mysterious power as the sailors below fought with renewed vigor.

Henri aimed at one of the few remaining winged demons and fired, his shot true as the creature plummeted into the ocean. He couldn't help but feel a surge of hope—the kind of hope he hadn't felt since the battle began.

Bit by bit, the demon swarm thinned. Sailors cheered as one after another was struck down by the relentless barrage. Hours seemed to pass in what felt like minutes, the adrenaline in Henri's veins keeping him sharp, his focus singular.

And then, finally, the last of the creatures fell from the sky, disappearing into the dark waves below. The battle, for now, was over.

Henri lowered his rifle, breathing hard, his body aching. The night was eerily quiet after the cacophony of combat. He glanced up, but the man in black was gone—vanished as mysteriously as he had appeared.

The captain's voice came through once more, this time calm but with a tone of deep relief. "Good work, everyone. The skies are clear. We've survived."

Henri slumped against the side of the ship, exhaustion washing over him. But as he closed his eyes, all he could think of was his daughter, his son. He had survived, and for now, that was enough.