The private looked out at the massive barefoot with awe, lust, and-above all-fear. His species has existed and evolved with humans for thousands of years. Yet, the only memory their titanic brethren had was in myths and legends. Children's stories like Gulliver's Travels, myths of tiny men found in primitive cultures. Because of this, and the dangerous size difference, his people were forced to eke out an existence among the woods and fringes of proper human civilizations, their cities carefully hidden from prying eyes and allowed to flourish and trade with each other. Yet, life wasn't always easy. Thus the city militaries were formed to defend cities from any threats and scavenge for food. No city had faced a human before, most had only death with animals and even those were hard to handle. Now here he was, trapped in the house of a god on a scavenging mission. They barely had time to see the Titan before they dove under his couch for cover. God, the private thought to himself, he fucking reeks. Crinkling his nose, he turned to face his platoon sergeant. All in all, the 10 men gathered around him were the best his city had to offer. Strong, brave, veterans of 10 scavenger missions and 4 animal breaches. But now? Not a single one of them wasn't overwhelmed with fear.
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