War of the Giants (VIII)

Upon receiving the orders from the rear, Alexei guided the Wanderer through the southern passage of C3 Area with immense patience and care, heading toward the refinery district through gale-force winds laced with fire.

Though the liquid in the cockpit was as cold as ice water, his resolve was as firm as a cast ingot.

He understood better than anyone what a Titan meant to the Temple. No one would accept the fall of a Titan, because it would not only be a devastating blow to the Temple's overall combat strength—it would also mean the collapse of faith for all the survivors of the Long Night.

Though discussions had already begun within the Temple over whether the church should continue to exist, that did not mean the survivors of the Long Night had no faith.

They believed in their ancestors, in humanity's once-glorious past. They had always believed they were merely temporarily cut off from the heart of civilization—Terra—and that one day, their brethren on Terra would find these lost relatives again and welcome them back into civilization's embrace.

And Titans were the embodiment of that faith.

As long as the Titans remained invincible, human civilization remained invincible. All xenos and monsters would ultimately be nothing more than jumping clowns.

So when he received word that Ghost Spider was in danger, Alexei immediately abandoned the front he had stabilized and turned toward the target.

Perhaps that was unfair to the soldiers still fighting on the front lines, but Alexei believed such unfairness could be accepted, because the value of a Titan had already surpassed that of this war itself.

"Maximum scan power. Stay alert for ambushes."

The engines of the rapid response force followed the Wanderer across the boiling ground. Their suppressive fire blasted entire clusters of fortifications into rubble.