Noise.
The cacophony engulfed him.
What is all that noise?
I can't even dream in peace.
Tears welled in his eyes, tracing a path down his cheeks.
Every day! Every damn day, it's the same!
Is it too much to ask for a moment of tranquility? To seek normalcy, just once?
All I want is a good life. A normal life.
But no, I can't even have that, can I?
He opened his eyes to conflicted thoughts, almost wishing to shut them again.
That's enough outta you.
The Kaiju drew in a deep breath, rubbing the tears from his eyes. No more lies. Not long ago, he wouldn't have even considered deceiving himself. It would have been beneath him. Now, he clung to these self-created falsehoods like a drowning man grasping at the edge of a life raft.
I'm pathetic. I know that. Maybe I should just end it here. Life had me dealt a cruel hand.
He shook his head, resigned.
I was doomed from the start. I never stood a chance. All I'm doing, it seems, is prolonging the inevitable.
He tried to muster some sort of anger at the acknowledgement but found only loathing and resignation. Dwelling on these thoughts all day would only make things worse. At least now, he was safe. Safe... The sun blazed overhead, signaling the late afternoon.
Rising like a specter from its tomb, he rubbed his eyes slowly, disoriented by the strangeness of his surroundings. Suddenly, a jolt of realization surged through him, a heartbeat away from revelation. In that electrifying moment, memories flooded back with startling clarity, and the greatest truth emerged; he was free at last!
The first stirrings of worry danced through his stomach, a cacophony of gurgling noises. There he sat, alone on the doorstep, peering into the small pouch at his side, pondering for the first time where he should go and how he could survive.
Realization dawned; even the formidable reach of the Foundation couldn't track him in this vast expanse. Yet, with no money, no food, and no water, he felt as though he were teetering on the edge of survival.
Memories cascaded through his cluttered mind in disjointed fragments. A growing unease crawled beneath his skin, infiltrating his thoughts like a malignant growth.
Man, do I feel sleepy, he perceived, likening his state to a foggy haze. Leaning heavily against a stairway railing, the Kaiju struggled to regain his bearings.
In the haze of fatigue, the world seemed slow to a crawl, distorting reality. Phantom sights and sounds encroached upon his senses, overwhelming him with unnecessary stimuli. He struggled to recall the details of his crucial assignment, the specifics eluding him in the fog of his mind.
Anxiety surged, gaining momentum until it consumed his thoughts entirely.
My body's glitchy right now, he said inwardly, frustrated by the troubling ache in his head. Despite the pain, he knew he had to persevere; whatever task awaited him seemed critically important.
Passerbys glanced his way, some double-taking at his presence. It was as if they glimpsed at a monstrous visage that didn't truly exist, a trick of perception dispelled by the blink of an eye.
Unperturbed by their curiosity, he paid them no heed. His mind churned with turmoil, refusing to settle. As clarity returned, his gaze fell on the solitary figure on a glass panel nearby.
His own reflection.
A disturbing notion flickered across his thoughts—a fleeting temptation to end them all swiftly, to silence the world's distractions—these humans.
A wicked grin spread, his eyes tinged with feral redness. The power to snuff lives lurked within his grasp, a chilling prospect.
The imagined sound of snapping of necks echoed in his head, bodies crumpling lifelessly to the ground, vacant eyes staring into nothingness. The simplicity of such an act taunted him.
But I'm better than that, he notioned, the madness receding. He averted his gaze, the notion lacking the substance to materialize into action. There was no thirst for violence within him, no desire to indulge in such dark fantasies. His philosophy remained unchanged—he had no enemies.
As he contemplated his next move, carefree teenagers, bursting with youthful exuberance, whizzed past the pavement, catching the Kaiju's attention. Their vibrant energy, the first sign of fun and excitement he had seen.
His eyes tracked the teenagers on electric incline boards and rollerblades, noting their disregard for safety. Instead of helmets, they wore branded hats and dark sunglasses, pulling off impossible tricks and reveling in the awestruck gazes of onlookers.
Primitive technology, the Kaiju thought.
He continued to watch as one of the teenagers rode up to a girl with burnt-orange hair and her dark-skinned friend standing a bit further away. The Kaiju couldn't discern many details, but he noticed the boy had blonde hair, was taller than him, and had a broad-shouldered, somewhat arrogant demeanor. The boy exuded an air of both fun and arrogance, a typical human with an unremarkable, if somewhat irritating, presence. His accent was unplaceable, but he was known for his skill and was always ready for either mischief or a challenge.
The emerald-skinned Kaiju's gaze shifted to the girl. He tracked her every movement with unwavering intensity, feeling an inexplicable, magnetic pull between them. Her long, orange hair cascaded unevenly down her back, shimmering like molten copper in the sunlight. She carried a book and a football helmet in one hand, and a pair of rollerblades in the other. The Kaiju watched as she settled on a bench, placed the book she read beside her, laced up her roller skates, and carefully tucked her radiant hair into the helmet, leaving a few stray wisps to catch the light like strands of spun gold.
The Kaiju swallowed, captivated by her every move.
His gaze shifted to where the teenagers had originally come from, something else capturing his attention. What he saw could only be described as straight-up impressive. All that time fleeing from the Foundation hadn't been for nothing, it seemed.
There, he saw more teenagers, some his age and most older, riding across a skate track. They executed jaw-dropping stunts that amazed even him, deftly maneuvering to drop a ball into hoops high on the wall. Oblivious to the boy observing them, they were engrossed in a game of keep-away.
Humans do the strangest things, he thought, mesmerized by the scene.
What made this so breathtaking? How did they move so fast with seemingly no effort?
The boy watched in wonder. Despite the place's technological inferiority compared to the Foundation, he had to commend the humans—they certainly knew how to make the most of what they had.
Unexpectedly, a red rubber ball rolled off the track, coming to a stop at the boy's feet. The hooded Kaiju bent down and picked it up, examining the sphere with a curious eye.
It was the ball they were playing with.
"Hey!" A loud voice called out suddenly. "Hey, you--!"
Raising his gaze, the boy's confusion deepened. Approaching him on skates was a teenager with a lean frame, brown eyes, and a cleanly shaved head, his arm waving urgently. It was Orenji.
Still uncertain, the hooded Kaiju glanced left and right before making a series of hand signs and gestures. "You mean me?" He conveyed silently, his movements precise yet hesitant, betraying his uncertainty.
"Yes, you! Toss the ball! The ball! The round thing you've got in your hands, toss it!" Orenji replied.
The Kaiju paused, staring blankly. He tucked the ball under his arm and made more hand gestures.
"Are you serious right now?" Orenji's mouth dropped in disbelief. "I can't understand any of that! Toss the ball ALREADY!" He pointed repeatedly at the boy's face and hands in quick, exaggerated motions.
The Kaiju rolled his eyes with exasperation but reluctantly obliged. With a swift motion, he hurled the ball with surprising force, striking Orenji squarely in the stomach and sending him sprawling to the ground. Whether a deliberate act of aggression or an unintended consequence, the Kaiju himself wasn't entirely certain.
The collision seemed agonizing, prompting the Kaiju to hasten to Orenji's side.
Looking up, Orenji met the Kaiju's anxious gaze, filled with genuine concern.
"No. No, I'm alive," he said, his voice tinged with exasperation. "But you did break something, alright," he groaned. "Yep, you definitely broke something. Probably my ribs and the rest of my internal organs," he added in one breath.
He slowly sat upright, his right arm wrapped tightly around his midsection, when he noticed a hand extended toward him. Orenji hesitated briefly, silent and still, before a smile spread across his face in response to the kind gesture. Taking the offered hand, he gripped it firmly, and with a strong pull from both sides, he was lifted off the ground, a sharp pain shooting through his hand.
"Aah!!!" He cried out, "Aga--?!"
The words were barely out when the Kaiju clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to shush him to avoid drawing more attention.
"But that's some grip you got there! What are you trying to do, put me in a hospital?" Orenji exclaimed, shaking his now injured hand and groaning in pain some more. "You don't seem to talk much, do you?"
The boy gave a reluctant nod, his gaze dropping. He rubbed his elbow, signaling his discomfort with the topic. Then, he reached for the ball. "Here, again. Sorry," he signed, handing the ball over. "What game are you playing back there? It looks fun," he acknowledged, pointing at the activity with the precision of a doctor's syringe.
"Oh, that?" Orenji glanced back. "That's Photonball. It's only like the most popular sport around here. Waaiittt," he paused, noticing the blank stare. "How come you've never heard of Photonball?"
The Kaiju stayed silent, knowing explaining himself would be next to impossible. He needed to keep his inquisitor off balance, concealing his true nature. With effort, he forced a wide, awkward smile to hide his growing anxiety.
"Hmm," Orenji stared at him, puzzled. There was a moment of silence. Orenji couldn't quite grasp what was going on but was far from clueless.
He stood stone-faced, eyes locked on the boy's forced smile.
"Okay, sure. Why not?" He replied at last, his voice less wary. It was the first time in days the Kaiju felt a flicker of relief. While Orenji carried on discussing the game's popularity, the Kaiju's thoughts drifted elsewhere.
His gaze drifted past the stranger, taking in the bustling city. Busy people on the road, money changing hands, buses to catch. A booming epicenter of trade and commerce. Police officers patrolling the streets. It all seemed strange and perplexing.
Suddenly, the Kaiju snapped back to reality. Wait, the officers! There stood his problem.
His heart sank as he noticed two officers, accompanied by a Centurion—nine-foot-tall robotic sentinels resembling spiders with three legs, built for speed and precision. It's main directive; to find and neutralize anomalous escapees. These officers would stop anyone they deemed odd, and the Centurion would scan them thoroughly. It put him in mind again of the things he'd all but forgotten, that he was a Kaiju, still on the run!
They were unmistakably hunting him.
A surge of panic gripped him. He had naively let himself believe he was safe, but now reality crashed down—safety was merely a mirage. He had to move quickly before they found him.
His eyes darted around, fear tightening his chest. What do I do now? Run? No, that would make me an easy target.
He took a deep breath and force himself to stay calm. He couldn't give them the satisfaction of catching him. Not yet.