Armored Silence Escapes

[Log 03:17] They surged without ceremony—horned titans draped in riveted steel, earth shrieking beneath every thrust. The sky sparked behind them, shredding itself into smoke and bronze detonations, like fireworks made for no one’s joy. Streams of molten spray arced diagonally, tracing frantic halos as if the night were clawing open its own exit. I blinked hard, breath skipping in shards, trying to decode their vector: forward-always-forward, mud erupting like fistfuls of midnight. The nearest beast wore the plea sharp on its helm: *WHERE VOJTA?* White letters burned into the black curve, stubborn and aching. Did they question us, or themselves? The message thrummed louder than the distant engines I swore I felt underfoot. Every movement hinted at flight—a gambit to break ranks, to vanish beyond the smoldering ridgeline before another skyfall. Yet his absence binds the air like chains: no silhouette, no answering rip through the smoke. Vojta, if you hear—your allies charge blind, and you remain a void beneath these armored stars.