Months passed. The fragile peace was a tense, holding pattern. 'Outer Sanctum Alpha' in Siberia became Jin-Woo's silent watchtower, his shadow soldiers providing unprecedented intelligence on global Architect movements. Kafka, now dubbed the 'Progenitor's Vessel' by the JDF, became an invaluable asset, his connection to Kaiju No. 1 allowing him to predict and sometimes even pacify emerging Kaiju threats before they could reach populated areas.
Kikoru Shinomiya became a legend. Her newfound power, combined with her innate genius for combat, elevated her to a level beyond any other Defense Force soldier. She was a one-woman army, the 'Valkyrie of Tokyo,' her golden armor and silver scar a symbol of humanity's evolving, terrifying future. Her bond with Jin-Woo was a quiet, constant presence—a shared understanding that needed no words. They were comrades, their dynamic forged in the crucible of the Isle of Giants.
Mina Ashiro, ever the commander, adapted. She saw the new landscape and reshaped the JDF around it. She created a new special operations unit, the 'Egis Division,' with a single purpose: to support their three trans-human assets. She buried her personal feelings under layers of duty, her relationship with Jin-Woo becoming one of crisp, professional respect. Yet, she watched him, Kikoru, and Kafka, and saw a bond forming that she could admire but never join.
The Architects were quiet. Too quiet. They had been humiliated at the Isle of Giants, their plans for the Progenitor Heart shattered, their elite unit erased. They were regrouping, reassessing. Jin-Woo knew it was the calm before a storm of unimaginable fury.
The storm broke on a Tuesday.
It began not with a Kaiju attack, but with a color.
The sea around the Japanese archipelago began to change. Patches of the deep blue Pacific turned a murky, unnatural red. At first, it was dismissed as a bizarre form of red tide, an ecological anomaly. But the patches grew, spreading and connecting with terrifying speed. Within twelve hours, the entire coastline of Japan was surrounded by a sea of blood-red water.
Then came the silence. All marine life within the crimson tide died. Fish, whales, sharks—they washed up on the shores by the millions, their bodies strangely desiccated. The sea, the source of life, had become a dead, crimson moat.
In the JDF command center, the atmosphere was thick with dread.
"What is this?" Mina demanded, her eyes scanning the satellite images. "A biological agent? A chemical weapon?"
"Neither," a new voice said. Kafka stood beside her, his eyes closed, his face pale. He was reaching out with the Progenitor's senses. "It's… a summons. A claiming of territory. The water isn't poisoned. It's being… digested. Converted. The Architects are terraforming our ocean."
As he spoke, the real attack began.
From the depths of the red sea, things began to rise. They were not the biological Kaiju born of the Progenitor. These were Architect creations through and through. They were biomechanical horrors, amalgamations of deep-sea life and twisted machinery. Colossal crabs with plasma cannons for claws. Swarms of squid-like drones that fired corrosive ink. And leading them, a fleet of behemoths, each miles long, like living submarines covered in armor plating and bristling with energy weapons. They were designated 'Leviathans.'
They didn't just attack the coast. They attacked the entire country at once. From every direction, the Crimson Tide unleashed its legion. It was not an invasion. It was an extermination.
The JDF fought back with everything they had. The navy engaged the Leviathans, their battleships looking like toys in comparison. The air force scrambled jets to combat the swarms of drones. Coastal defense cannons roared to life. It was a valiant, hopeless effort. For every enemy they destroyed, ten more rose from the red depths to take its place.
In the command center, Mina watched the casualty reports pour in, her face a stoic mask hiding a breaking heart. They were losing. Badly.
"We can't fight a war on this many fronts," a general said, his voice grim. "We have to consolidate our forces, abandon the coastlines."
"We abandon the coast, we abandon millions of people," Mina shot back.
It was then that Jin-Woo, who had been standing silently, watching the global map, finally spoke. His voice cut through the panic, cold and absolute.
"This is not a war of attrition. You cannot win by sinking their ships. You must kill their admiral."
His eyes, glowing with a fierce blue-violet light, were fixed on a single point in the Pacific Ocean, hundreds of miles off the coast. The epicenter from which the entire Crimson Tide was spreading.
"There is a command unit," he stated. "A central consciousness controlling the entire legion. Its psychic signature is massive, but it's trying to hide beneath the ocean floor."
"A single target?" Mina asked, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"A single, immensely powerful target," Jin-Woo confirmed. "A new type of Architect weapon. A Bio-Monarch. They've grown one of their own."
The room fell silent. They had created their own Monarch. A weapon to counter him.
"We can't reach it," the general argued. "It's too deep, and it will be surrounded by the bulk of their fleet. No submarine, no missile could get through."
"We don't need a submarine," Jin-Woo said. He turned and looked at the two people who had been waiting silently behind him.
Kafka, his eyes glowing with the blue light of the Progenitor.
Kikoru, her hand resting on the hilt of a new, custom-forged axe, the faint silver scar on her chest a testament to her new power.
"The Captain is right," Jin-Woo said, his gaze sweeping over his two comrades. "We cannot fight a war on a thousand fronts." He looked back at Mina. "So we will fight it on one."
A new, terrifyingly simple plan formed. A surgical strike. A decapitation.
"The three of us are going hunting," he declared. "We will cut the head off the snake."
It was an insane, impossible mission. Three beings against an endless ocean of horrors, to kill a god at the bottom of the sea. It was the only chance they had.