The plan was as simple as it was suicidal. Mina and the JDF would commit every available asset to a single, massive feint, drawing the bulk of the Crimson Tide's legion toward the eastern coast of Honshu. This desperate, sacrificial gambit was designed to create a momentary window, a single path through the maelstrom for their only real weapon: the Trident.
Jin-Woo, Kafka, and Kikoru stood on the flight deck of the JDF's flagship, the supercarrier Izanagi, as it steamed toward the engagement zone. The sky was a hazy red, reflecting the corrupted ocean below. The air was thick with the coppery scent of the tide.
The trio was a study in contrasts. Jin-Woo was a pillar of calm, dark energy, his new Kaiju-markings a subtle, shifting pattern under his skin. Kafka stood beside him, no longer trembling with uncertainty, but radiating a quiet, immense pressure, the blue light in his eyes steady and deep. He was a vessel, ready to be filled. Kikoru was a coiled spring of golden energy, her new, sleeker battle suit humming with power. Her expression was one of grim, absolute focus.
"The feint begins in five minutes," Mina's voice crackled over their comms from the Izanagi's bridge. "The window will last for ninety seconds at most. If you don't get through in that time, you'll be swarmed."
"We'll make it," Kikoru said, her voice a confident growl.
Jin-Woo looked at his two companions. "Kikoru, you are the spearhead. Your job is to clear a path through any immediate aerial threats. Do not engage the Leviathans. Speed is our only objective."
"Understood," she replied, her hand clenching around the haft of her new axe.
"Kafka," Jin-Woo continued, his gaze softening almost imperceptibly. "You are the shield. Once we are underwater, the pressure will be immense. The Architect's creatures will be in their element. You will use the Progenitor's power to create a protective field, a bubble of null-pressure around us. It will be your only focus. Can you do it?"
Kafka met his gaze, and for the first time, there was no doubt in his eyes. He felt the ancient, planetary power within him, a wellspring of endless energy. "I can."
"My role," Jin-Woo finished, "is to be the compass and the sword. I will guide us to the Bio-Monarch, and I will be the one to strike the final blow."
The Izanagi's horn blared, a deep, mournful sound. The feint had begun. On the horizon, a massive naval and aerial battle erupted. Explosions blossomed like hellish flowers, and the sky filled with the streaks of missiles and plasma fire. The JDF was throwing itself into the meat grinder.
As predicted, the swarms of biomechanical horrors and the colossal Leviathans in their sector began to turn, drawn toward the larger battle. A narrow, temporary corridor opened in the enemy lines.
"Now," Jin-Woo commanded.
Kikoru didn't hesitate. With a roar of her suit's thrusters, she launched from the flight deck, a golden arrow aimed at the heart of the ocean.
Jin-Woo grabbed Kafka's shoulder. "Stay with me." He leaped from the carrier, his draconic Kaiju-wings erupting from his back. He caught the wind, Kafka held securely in his grasp, and followed Kikoru's trajectory.
They flew into a sky thick with stray drones and anti-air fire. Kikoru was a master of chaos. She didn't engage in dogfights; she simply carved a path. Her axe, now capable of projecting blades of pure energy, sliced through entire squadrons of squid-drones. She was a golden comet, and Jin-Woo and Kafka were the tail, flying through the opening she created.
They reached the designated entry point, a patch of churning, blood-red water miles from the main battle.
"Down!" Jin-Woo ordered.
The three of them plunged into the Crimson Tide.
The moment they hit the water, the world changed. The sounds of battle vanished, replaced by a crushing, malevolent silence. The red water was thick like oil and stung the senses. Vision was reduced to a few feet. And the pressure was instantaneous and brutal, enough to implode a submarine.
"Kafka, now!" Jin-Woo projected telepathically.
Kafka's eyes, now glowing with a brilliant blue light, opened wide. He extended his hands, and a sphere of shimmering, clear energy erupted around the trio. The crushing pressure vanished, replaced by a pocket of calm, breathable air. The red, murky water was held at bay by the invisible wall of the Progenitor's power. They were in a bubble, an island of life in a dead sea, plummeting into the abyss.
As they descended, the inhabitants of the deep began to notice them. Swarms of shark-like creatures with metallic teeth and torpedo-like bodies swarmed their bubble, slamming against the energy shield. The shield held, but the impacts shuddered through them.
"They're testing it," Kikoru said, her axe at the ready.
"Ignore them," Jin-Woo commanded, his own eyes glowing intensely as he scanned the depths. "Kafka, focus on the shield. My turn."
He released Kafka and floated in the center of their bubble. He closed his eyes and summoned his army.
But he didn't summon Igris or Beru. From his shadow, thousands of smaller, sleeker forms emerged. They were serpentine, eel-like shadow creatures, perfectly adapted for aquatic combat. They slipped through the barrier of Kafka's shield, unharmed, and poured into the red water outside.
The Shadow-Serpents fell upon the biomechanical sharks. It was a silent, vicious battle in the crushing dark. The red water was churned by the silent screams of dying machines and the cold, efficient violence of Jin-Woo's legion.
They descended deeper. One mile. Two miles. The pressure outside their bubble was now astronomical. The light from the surface was gone. They were in a realm of absolute blackness, lit only by the blue glow of Kafka's power and the violet eyes of Jin-Woo's hunting serpents.
It was then that they saw it.
On the ocean floor, nestled in a deep-sea trench, was a structure. It was not a building, but a living thing. A colossal, brain-like organism, miles wide, its surface covered in pulsating veins of crimson light that snaked out into the surrounding ocean, the source of the Crimson Tide.
And at its center, protected by a legion of colossal, crab-like guardians, was a throne. And on that throne sat a figure.
It was humanoid, crafted from polished, white bio-material, with long, elegant limbs. It had no face, only a single, massive, crimson eye that glowed with a cold, malevolent intelligence. The Bio-Monarch.
The moment they saw it, it saw them.
A psychic scream of pure, calculated rage echoed through the water, so powerful it made Kafka's shield flicker violently.
[Anomaly. Monarch. Vessel. Eradicate.]
The legion of crab-guardians, each the size of a building, turned their emotionless gaze toward the descending bubble and charged. The final battle had begun.