The Magnus Archives - Rusty Fears 7 - Gigantomachia by Alukard

Episode Date: June 11, 2026

This week’s short horror story, Gigantomachia, inspired by the prompt "Giant", is written by Alukard and read by Sasha Sienna.Content Notes:- gore/body horror- death- megalophobiaDirected and Produced by April SumnerWritten by AlukardExecutive Producers Alexander J Newall & April SumnerFeaturingSasha Sienna as NarratorEdited by Lowri Ann DaviesMusic by Katie Seaton and Sam JonesMastering by Catherine RinellaArt by April SumnerSupport Rusty Quill directly by joining our new membership platform at members.rustyquill.com or on Patreon at patreon.com/rustyquillCheck out our merchandise available at https://www.redbubble.com/people/RustyQuill/shop and https://www.teepublic.com/stores/rusty-quillPre-order links for From the Library of Jurgen Leitner: https://rustyquill.com/novelSupport Rusty Quill by purchasing from our Affiliates; DriveThruRPG – DriveThruRPG.comJoin our community:WEBSITE: rustyquill.comFACEBOOK: facebook.com/therustyquillX: @therustyquillEMAIL: [e-mail] Magnus Protocol is a derivative product of the Magnus Archives, created by Rusty Quill Ltd. and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Share alike 4.0 International Licence. For ad-free episodes, bonus content and more, join members.rustyquill.com or our Patreon.Pre-order FROM THE LIBRARY OF JURGEN LEITNER, a Magnus novel releasing October 27th: rustyquill.com/novelBuy tickets to a Magnus Archives Live Show in Sheffield in July: crossedwires.live Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Hi there, Billy Hindle here, the voice of Alice Dyer in the Magnus Protocol. As part of the Magnus Archives 10th anniversary, Rusty Quill is hosting a special Magnus live show at the upcoming Crossed Wires podcast festival in Sheffield. Join co-creators Jonathan Sims and Alexander J. Newell on the 5th of July for a new iteration of our live show Statement Begins, where you can hear fan favourite statements such as anglerfish, Red Live, and gain exclusive insights into the creation and history of the show straight from the creators themselves.

You can buy your tickets now, including limited numbers of meat and greet tickets, from crossedwires. Live, or the link in the description of this episode. Hi there, Jonathan Sims here, and before today's episode, I wanted to tell you about from the Library of Yergen Lightner, an upcoming The Magnus Archives prequel novel available for pre-order right now at www. Rustyquil.com forward slash novel. Return to the world of the Magnus Archives in, from the Library of Yorgen Leitner,

an official prequel novel written by Nebula, world fantasy and Aurora award-winning author, Pramie Mohamed, with the help of yours truly. From the Library of Yurgen Lightner explores an infamous organisation from the Magnus Verse for the first time, the perilous private library of the enigmatic collector,

Jürgen Lightner. From the Library of Yorgen Lightner will be published. on October the 27th, 2006, and is available for pre-order now as a hardback, audio book and e-book. Visit www. RustyQuil.com forward slash novel for more information. That's rustyquill.com forward slash novel, or click the link in the show notes of this episode. Gigantamacia by Alucard. Report of Lieutenant Woodsworth on the preliminary investigation into subject Atlas 2.

Personnel. Lieutenant Richard Woodsworth, Sergeant Annabel Goethe, corporals Maximilian Edward Stevenson and Carlisle Howitzer. Actions. Recognisance and sampling of materials for further research. Conditions. Unexpected. Redetachment. Orders. Access through the designated opening determined by the bioengineering squad. Utilize as few tools as possible to prevent loss of valuable instruments and ensure quick departure, committing only only. to a preliminary assessment. Summary. The squad fulfilled the preliminary investigation as ordered, finding expected setbacks as per the sit-rep, recovering the necessary samples.

A full report in detail can be read in the attachment provided by Sergeant Gertr per request of Colonel Lewis Ryder. Attachment This is the extended report of the mission into subject Atlas 2, charged to the squadron led by Lieutenant Woodsworth. By request of Colonel Ryder, it shall be detailed and severe, so I will spare military terminology unless necessary. It is odd to be writing this way.

I'm no journalist. I don't understand why Colonel Ryder wants it this way, but it is not on me to question such orders. As short preface for those unaware, Atlas II, colloquially known as devourer, is laying dead in the middle of a metropolitan area. Like its predecessor, it took a lot of resources, time, and lives to bring it down. Unlike Atlas 1, we had access to a carcass we can study.

Command ordered an investigation into it, providing us with very little resources and shipped us off. Once my eyes set on it, the word Titanic came to mind. My wife Elizabeth is a mythologist. She often tells me how we don't actually have any indication that the titans of Greek myth were any different in size from the gods. I wonder if Zeus ever trembled like I did when fighting his own terrifying enemies. We entered through a cavity cut by the bioengineering squad on its abdomen. Both corporals stayed at the entrance. Stevenson reported from the outside, while Howitzer did so on the inside.

Lieutenant Woodsworth and I went into the belly of the beast, so to speak. The first thing that hit me was the smell. We didn't know if decomposition would affect it, taken by millions of bacteria, fungi, and insects expelling that familiar, sweet, awful scent. It smelled fresh. The only thing compared to it is eucalyptus, clean and overpowering. Then there was the silence. Our march on its flesh made a squelching beneath our boots. Some soundproofing quality prevented us from hearing any echo in the distance. Our flashlights guided us through the dark, checking with Max and Carlisle every ten minutes. The meat was soft, but in the way,

a waterbed mattresses, giving way easily to the boots for a moment before the tension would risk breaking. Walking became a matter of constant motion. We couldn't stay idle for fear of a rupture, releasing its potentially toxic fluids. Every once in a while I would find support on a solid portion of the walls, patches of what looked like rocky slates, similar to scabs on the skin. It was something we could sample. We pulled our tools out and scraped some of it. It felt sandy, to the touch, even with gloves on. I could smell it through the mask, rotten, sweet, falling like thick sand on our tools.

Richard was excited that we were already making progress. The smell was stronger the further we got, until we found an access to what looked like a breathing cave. The scabby plates covered almost everything, not unlike a scaly lung. It was eerie, a room big enough to hold three trucks inhaling, then exhaling. The smell of rot was everywhere, but nothing seemed to be decomposing.

Richard was ecstatic. I wasn't. He argued that some activity after death was expected, but if there was even a chance of it still living, I had cause for alarm. We checked with the corporals, both confirmed subject Atlas II was still. Richard insisted this was what we came here so I took our cameras out and began compiling documentation. I couldn't shake the feeling of being captured, as if this place was a flytrap eager to digest us in her jaws. Worse, I feared this whole thing was playing dead, uncaring about what our tools would do to it,

just waiting for its time to kill again. Perhaps it's sleeping, I told Richard, but he kept saying the Bioskwad had taken every measure to make sure we'd be safe. It is dead. I reminded him that the Biosk squad could only do. do so much with limited data, which was why we were there. I shouldn't have. That made him forget about everything else. It wasn't mere scientific curiosity. He had confirmation that we couldn't use our knowledge of biology to understand how it worked. Which proves my point, I said. We don't know

if it's dead. He waved it away, which was expected. He'd dismiss anything that could deny him this opportunity. We did two more check-ins and advanced. After some of the same, he'd be able to. After some searching, I spotted an opening that went down a slithery slope. Immediately Richard wanted to go, but I refused. Better if just one person fell down. He could have ordered me to stay, but we both knew it'd be a waste. He was going to go there eventually. As soon as I stepped down, my boot slipped and I was rapidly descending. Whatever wall I was falling along was slick with a substance that smelled like rust. I flailed around to grab for anything. The sound of my body splashing its way down echoed.

Whatever sound-proofing this thing had did not exist in this chamber. Even through the fear, I could tell this one was way bigger than the rest. I tried to stand up but could barely get to my knees. The strange substance that pulled in this place made it impossible to get on my feet. After an interminable minute of tripping over and over, I decided to simply slide on my hands and knees. It was humiliating, but it worked. Thankfully, my shoulder-mounted flashlight hadn't broken, so I used it to inspect this new chamber I was in. It was massive, larger than the tunnel in the cave we'd seen, covered in this slimy substance that had a reddish-brown colouration.

On closer inspection, it didn't smell so much of rust, more coppery with a strange hint of ozone, like a broken stage light. I tried to communicate again, but my hands were too slimy. I couldn't use any of my tools, both in practice, but also because I feared soaking and damaging them. I kept sliding on that strange surface, looking for a way out. Research be damned if the Bioskod and Richard wanted to investigate this place in more detail, they could do it by themselves. That is, assuming I wouldn't die there. I could see it already, a stupid obituary with the least flattering picture of me in my uniform,

showing on the news, talking about my noble sacrifice for two minutes before getting to the new fashion trend. My scoff echoed through the chamber. it was a stark reminder of my solitude of a death that would be witnessed by none. Even if this slime was not toxic enough to rot my insides, the lack of food and air would eventually take me out. I laughed. Here I was crawling on all fours for a way out of a cavernous, fleshy building that performed who knows what functioned to the Titanic being that was either fully asleep or still functioning after death. That word again, Titanic. But it wasn't the titans that were gargantuan in size. That was the next set of enemies the gods faced.

The giants created specifically to kill the Olympians, colossal horrors that made the earth shake with each step, crushing mountains with their hands, powerful enough to kill the immortal gods of the sky, the seas, and the underworld. That place felt like the underworld, but without vast cities of shades or monsters guarding it. Instead, it had tall walls drooling with a red and brown substance. I had no climbing equipment, but even with it, this sick slime would make it impossible.

I looked up in desperation. I don't want to relay what I saw up there. I understand those are my orders, so I'll do it. But Colonel Ryder just know I resent it. No one else should suffer it, even through text. Richard was right. There was no way to understand it. An animal that size could not support its own circulatory system, could not feed on such a tiny amount of food even if that was city's worth of humans.

An animal did not digest its food from the top of its stomach to the floor. But there it was, the melting mass of millions of still living people stuck to the ceiling of this colossal stomach. Clothes fused to liquefied flesh, bones indistinguishable from the marrow once inside them, Skin mixed with plastic or metal, muscle and sinews stretched to its limit, forming knots of fibrous tissue, eyes with teeth inside, nails pierced by eyelashes, few things in their resembled human limbs. If you're reading this report, you're probably wondering how I could know they were still alive. It's simple, really, because they were begging for death.

No, Colonel, I don't know how. By all rights, they should have been dead, their body's barely holding because they were stuck together, throats that shouldn't be able to make sounds, eyes that should be blind, awakened by my flashlight. They spoke almost in unison, broken only by a painful individuality that took away any chance to lose consciousness. As I said, they begged for death. They didn't ask for help. They sang, like a Greek chorus begging the fates for release. Conscious enough to suffer, to know even if they were rescued, there was no way to survive this.

We all knew that their lives. lives were supported by a horrifying mass of living tissue, keeping them in eternal torment. I could distinguish some of them, an old woman crying for someone to blow her head with a rifle. A policeman screaming in terror for his brother lost somewhere around that mass of flesh. A tourist, unlucky enough to be at the wrong beach and time, now mixed with dirty sand in his veins. I could tell which cities they'd lived in, even their neighbourhood. I could take a goddamn census of that monster's eating habits. The worst part was when I realized something else.

I recognized these people, the sweet old man I bought flowers from, my high school math teacher, my wife's yoga instructor, my mother's best friend. I thought myself lucky, pulling strings to get my friends and family out of the carnage. I hadn't technically lost anyone. So now the gods were punishing my hubris, making me witness the eternal. horror this devourer had brought upon us. I saw my old captain, a brave man who had insisted on fighting against this other-worldly monster from day one.

He'd been one of the first, years ago, when it decimated a whole city without suffering a scratch. I had mourned this man, armed myself, determined to do my part to honour his sacrifice, by saving as many lives as I could. But he wasn't dead. He was looking deep into my eyes, begging me to end his mission. misery. I screamed louder than I ever have, until my throat was sore, my lungs burning, all the air inside me burst through my lips, mouth up to that fleshy sky prostrated like a penitent realizing no God would have mercy on her. It was so loud I didn't feel the chamber shift.

I slipped on my back, desperately grasping, finding no purchase, no way to stop my descent into my next unknown, horrible fate. It did not matter whether this creature was dead, or if it had ever been alive. I was not meant to be inside it, so it would correct that. It pulled me through tunnels made of wet meat, bumping me around its walls, tossing me from chamber to chamber. My suit ruptured. I lost my watch in the first five minutes. I hit my head so many times it was ringing after ten. My arm broke at around the twenty-minute mark. I know this because my comms came back. Max and Carlisle called desperately to know where I was. Richard was eager to learn. what I had found. After

30 minutes of beating around those fleshy caverns, it spit me out. I broke a leg and some ribs on the concrete. I'd definitely had a concussion, considering the blood dripping from my forehead. With whatever strength I had left, I called back, told the corporals to triangulate

my location through my signal. I couldn't tell where I was as my eyes were covered in the liquefied remains of the people inside that hell. The last thing I remember were the blades of a chopper coming down while my body finally collapsed on the floor. Carlisle was next to me when I woke up, that blessed boy, making sure I was all right. The doctors informed us I had no major injuries, but neither of us bought it. I'm sure there

was some lasting brain damage, but that'll be a nightmare for later. He told me I was ejected out of subject Atlas 2, 10 blocks from the entrance, through a previously unknown orifice in its throat. Regardless, I am out of that monster and I'm not coming back. Lizzie's taking care of me, and it'll be a while before I get back into action. If I ever do. That's all right. I'm thinking of changing careers, maybe moving to a different country. I know Lizzie would appreciate it.

She wasn't as lucky as me. Now this land has memories we both would rather forget. I didn't tell her I saw her cousin there. What he said to me. That is something I will never forget, and she doesn't need to know. Richard contacted me a few days ago, telling me about the colonel's orders. I'm guessing he asked Ryder to make some arrangements, have me give an official report on the matter, to have all the gruesome details.

Well, there you have it. I went to the meaty avernus that holds millions of souls in pain, and I'm telling you I will not go back. Unless to blow it all the way to kingdom come, see its body turned to trillions of pieces scattered. I am not going back. Please, God, gods of Olympus, the Demiurge of Satan himself, whatever being that's capable of creating such a thing, if there is any mercy in your heart, please take it back.

And please, please, kill them all. The Magnus Protocol is a podcast distributed by Rusty Quill, and licensed under a Creative Commons attribution non-commercial, non-commercial share-a-like 4.0 international license. To subscribe, view Associated Materials, or join our Patreon, visit rusty quill.com. Rate and reviews online, tweet us at The RustyQuil, visit us on Facebook, or email us via mail at RustyQuil.com. Thanks for listening. Hi, Alex here, founder and CEO of Rusty Quill Limited.

In case you haven't heard, there is now a Magnus Archives novel. The Library of Yergen Lightner is set in the world of the Magnus Archives and written by Nebula Award-winning author, Premi Muhammad, with our very own Jonathan Sims. The story follows Hugh, a university dropout, desperate to find somewhere to belong and his new job at an esoteric library. The books he must investigate for the enigmatic Juergen Leitner are not normal, because the library is not a vault, sealed and silent, but a hive, alive, buzzing and ready to sting. The Library of Jürgen Leitner releases October 27th, 2026, but you can pre-order it right now in the US and UK from your local bookshop, or by using the link in the episode description. If you live outside of the UK or US, you may be able to make an international order for this first publication, but it depends on individual retailers' shipping policies.