The wall beside him exploded inward as massive claws rammed through it, sending chunks of plaster and concrete hurtling into the room. The ceiling, robbed of its support at the north end, sagged alarmingly with a groan, sending a rain of dust and debris down upon the giant, groping fingers. He watched them and sighed, shaking his head. Putting on his coat and wincing as a bulky object in the pocket thumped against his hip, he tugged the door open and shuffled off.

He could hear the giant making short work of the building behind him. His eyes squinched up as a cloud of dust roared past him. The creature's pelt made a sound just like a carpet being beaten as it shook out its fur, and then crouched in the wreckage to hunt for tasty morsels.

"No use," he found himself saying.

The dust cloud dissipated as he made his way down the street and soon he could breathe again. Not that there was much room to take a breath, with all the panicked jostling and scrambling going on around him. The wails of sirens were growing tiresome. Far off in the distance he could hear the booms and roars of other titans who were gleefully smashing to works of Man into rubble. Now and again came the rattle of gunfire and the pounding of cannon as the military fought its desperate and futile struggle to save the city.

The giants would not even feel the artillery shells bursting against their impenetrable hides. That was the way he had made them.

The crowd ahead of him grew thick and shrieking. He sighed with exasperation, knowing what was to come. Within seconds a shadow fell all around, and the sky was filled with the vast underside of a reptilian foot, smeared with a panoply of flattened bodies, the massive talons dripping. Rolling his eyes, he waited as it thundered down in his path. The terrified people trapped beneath it let out a singular shriek and all ducked down together in a great wave, as though by cringing so they could earn just one precious split second of additional existence. The mighty foot descended upon them with a rush of displaced air. The bodies crunched loudly, all mashed together into a sea of pulp that squirted obscenely from under the great toes as they sank into the pavement. Finally the foot lifted again, pieces of bodies raining down from it as it rose away. Glancing upward with a sarcastic "thank you," he started ahead once more, his path now unencumbered by the mob.

On and on he trudged, dodging the fleeing citizenry, civilian and soldier alike. As he rounded a familiar corner his ears were assailed by a howl that shattered windows all around. A wolf the size of a skyscraper loomed before him on two powerful legs. Its grin was savage and hungry, and as he plodded toward it the beast raised a hand to its muzzle. From that hand came the cries of a dozen or more dispairing voices as they were licked into the cavernous maw and gulped down alive.

He paid no attention, nor did he even look up as the enormous paw rushed down toward him, its fingers outstretched and flexing greedily. It halted above him and hovered as he made his way out from under it and then between the giant's heavy feet. He ignored the questioning growl that echoed overhead, as well as the thunderous footfalls that rose up as the big wolf began to follow him.

At another intersection, the dragon that he had created had cornered a huge knot of people in the cul-de-sac of the financial district and was savagely crushing them under its feet, a few at a time, savoring their pleading and their terror. The dragon, too, caught sight of him as he walked past, his head down and his hands shoved into his pockets. The pounding behind him took on a faster, lurching tempo as now four immense feet followed in his tracks.

One by one they fell in behind, their tails held low in uncertainty and glancing at each other with nervous eyes. They walked slowly, haltingly, unwilling to overtake the tiny man who led them.

Soon the city was a smoking ruin in the distance behind him. He could still hear the eerie keen of the sirens over the pounding tread of the monsters. Here at last he stopped.

The monsters surrounded him, clawed feet shuffling, their brows knit with apprehension. He could not look up at them. Taking a deep breath, he withdrew the revolver from his coat pocket. "I'm sorry," he said softly. The wolf whined high above him. The others remained silent.

The pistol's muzzle was cold between his lips and tasted bitterly of oil. He pulled the trigger.

Mankind was saved.