"See, it killed him. It's a monster, that thing is a MONSTER! Why not accept that fact?" Haturii's voice was thick with anger.
"We don't know that," Stane replied, his voice steady. "I've looked into the eyes of monsters, and that is not what I saw. Why would he try so desperately to protect something if he were just a mindless beast?"
"A corpse. You mean protecting a corpse. Do you hear yourself? What makes you so sure he wasn't involved in its death? Do yourself a favor and stop trying to shield that thing. We all know monsters don't have emotions, Doctor," Haturii insisted.
"Well, this one does. Maybe they all do, but we wouldn't know because we kill every single one we encounter!" Stane shot back, his voice tinged with frustration.
"And just what would you have us do?" Haturii retorted impulsively. "We kill them because they kill us. We hunt them because they hunt us. You're giving that beast far too much credit. Trusting it without any justification is sheer folly. You, of all people, should understand that!"
"Then as a scientist, I must be really stupid to trust this one," Stane said, stepping closer. These kinds of doubts had plagued him once before, especially since he had been assigned as the lead researcher of anomaly 004 after years of toiling away in archival obscurity. He had encountered anomalies that defied belief, ranging from the mind-bendingly surreal to the downright monstrous.
There was 121, the nightmarish Madam Koi Koi, who haunted school dormitories with her bright red stilettos, a relic of terror surviving through generations. Then there was 811, the enigmatic Bushbaby, a physical-spiritual entity lurking in dense forests and thickets, a creature steeped in ancient mythology.
And then there was 004 himself.
When you work for the RSCP Foundation, you need to be ready for anything. That's why, as part of the elite Foundation regime, senior researchers are always running tests, even against things that aren't recorded under the auspices of the Foundation. Before his current assignment, Rhys Stane had witnessed the countless termination attempts by more experienced colleagues fail and fail again, often with humiliating results. Something about signing your name up for an attempt at termination and especially one of the seemingly immortal kind was like tying on a blindfold, grabbing a bat and stepping up to a piñata. Except in this case, the piñata isn't wearing a blindfold and somehow, it can hit you back. It was a surefire route to professional humiliation, and if you're unlucky enough to be too close when things go south, it can be so much worse.
"You're deadly earnest about this," the paranoid researcher remarked, closing the distance. "That's a perilous path you're treading. It's as if you're preparing for war..."
Haturii interjected firmly, cutting through the tension. "The accursed creature brought the war directly to our doorstep five years ago. Count the casualties. Thousands lost, and what's next? Millions? It wields the power to annihilate humanity entirely. If there's even a one percent chance it poses a threat, we must treat it as an absolute certainty! We must destroy it."
"But he is not our enemy!"
"Stane, a century of Stonehaven's history has shown you what trust is worth. How many heroes endure? How many still stand?"
"But can't you see? I was the one who ventured into the pod. I saw what he was protecting." The researcher paused, his voice heavy with compassion. "Please, just... don't harm him."
"Who? The Monster?" Haturii retorted sharply. "The one you unleashed? Is that what troubles you? Not the thousands it's nearly slaughtered, the innocents drained of their life energy by your reckless actions."
"It's not his fault. He's not dangerous!" Stane pleaded earnestly. "Years have passed since their initial onslaught, and yet all you see is a Monster. But if you could just look beyond his appearance—his glaring features, his eyes—you'd see the humanity within. He's just a boy, a child lost in our world, struggling to find his place amidst our constant turmoil. Despite the world's rejection, he strives to belong, fighting to survive in our harsh reality. Yes, he'll make mistakes—plenty of them—but who doesn't?
"People err, yet that doesn't warrant a death sentence. Good people can falter without being condemned. It's human nature. And if one creature, one young Kaiju, can teach us this, perhaps we might finally see the truth." With a decisive thud, Stane placed his pocket watch on the table, turned, and walked away, leaving behind the artifact and Haturii to ponder his words.
Entering the chamber, every element was meticulously arranged in a perfect circle around its core. Research desks stood in orderly formation, flanked by maintenance equipment and stacks of raw materials—piles of sturdy wooden planks and gleaming metal sheets. Surveillance devices and security cameras loomed overhead, their lenses fixed on a central focal point; a towering cylindrical glass enclosure dominating the hangar. Meters in every direction, this fortress of glass defied even the most potent weaponry arrayed against it. Yet, it wasn't the impenetrable structure itself that held fascination; it was the captive within—the Kaiju, slumbering as if oblivious to the world outside, a secret kept safe from the prying eyes of humanity, though perhaps not for long.
As assistant to the Site Director, the compassionate doctor had devoted his career to skillfully navigating through layers of safeguards, delicately adjusting containment protocols year after year. His purpose was clear; to gain access once more to that sacred space, where he could enact what he deemed just and merciful.
****
Orenji's brow furrowed deeply, etched with concern and resignation, as he surveyed the bleak scene before him. Most of his teammates lay injured, casualties of Sean's ruthless tactics aimed at diminishing their ranks. The prospect of mounting a comeback now seemed daunting, nearly insurmountable.
A heavy sigh escaped Orenji, weighted with the gravity of their predicament. "It seems today's battle was not meant for us. Like yesterday, and the day before," he remarked ruefully, his words tinged with a sense of defeatism.
With a heavy heart, he surveyed his team, sensing the palpable aura of surrender that hung over the track like a shroud. Turning his gaze to the Kaiju, whose outward demeanor betrayed a distant preoccupation, Orenji couldn't help but notice the intensity in his eyes.
Crap, he thought, feeling the strain in his body. His lungs burned, his back slick with cold sweat. We can't stay like this. Can't let it end like this. The Kaiju's fists clenched at his sides, radiating resolve.
In a moment of profound silence, Orenji's expression shifted. Determination flickered across his face, a small smile forming. It wasn't the look of someone who had given up.
"Hey! Egoist!"
The sharp call shattered the Kaiju's drifting thoughts, pulling him back to the urgent reality. His gaze swept across the team, a momentary confusion clouding his expression.
"It's time to refocus," Orenji's voice, steady and unwavering, cut through the fog, recentering their collective purpose.
The Kaiju took a deep breath, his chest tight with emotion. A wry smile crept onto his face, a nod of acknowledgment passing between them.
"Yeah," Orenji affirmed, his resolve strengthening. "Let's elevate our game even further this time."
A compulsion stirred within them, an inexplicable urge to push beyond reason or rationale. Despite the uncertainty clouding the Kaiju's intentions, Sean remained steadfast in his confidence to overcome whatever obstacles lay ahead.
With little time left, they commenced the decisive round, and fate placed the ball squarely into his hands.
Sean wasted no breath, launching into an aggressive charge, his laughter echoing with anticipation. The Kaiju met him head-on once more, the scoreboard deadlocked at 6-6.
Now in possession, the opposition had their chance. Yet, Sean couldn't suppress his surprise at the subtle shift in the Kaiju's eyes, oscillating between a piercing blue and an amber glow.
His mind raced, calculating Sean's every move. The Kaiju poised himself, ready to execute a decisive maneuver to intercept the ball.
Sean surged into hyperactivity. Instincts tingling, he sensed a shift from the expected, urging him to unleash everything at this critical juncture.
With lightning reflexes, he darted past the Kaiju's defenses in a swift roulette, a smug grin spreading across his face as he seemingly outmaneuvered his opponent once more.
Yet, like a lamb led to slaughter...
The Kaiju's swift hand intercepted the ball, shattering Sean's confidence. I fooled you, you bastard!
Ayumi pounced on the opportunity, snatching the loose ball in time. With her innate speed bolstering her every stride, she surged toward the goal, igniting a swift counterattack.
Her physical prowess enabled her to dash at astonishing speeds, outpacing most others effortlessly.
Sean let out an irritated click of his tongue as he pursued her, only to witness the ball glide seamlessly through their team, returning to Ayumi's possession once more.
With deft and imperceptible passes, she swiftly delivered the ball to him, realizing she was cornered and he represented her sole opportunity.
"Don't mess this up, newbie," Ayumi urged. "Go long!"
Sean was caught off guard by this sudden turn of events, instantly taken aback by the Kaiju's tenacity.
This was the moment.
Despite Sean's relentless onslaught, he found himself thwarted repeatedly, despite the immense pressure he exerted on the Kaiju. He refused to be outdone by a mere newcomer. It was inconceivable!
After all, they were just insignificant supporting characters in his grand narrative. The world, in his view, orbited solely around him.
He was determined to enforce that perspective.
The Kaiju eyed the ball and realized instantly that he alone stood a chance to score, unburdened by the weight of fatigue that plagued the rest of his team. Frustration gnawed at him from the hours spent waiting, watching others score.
His team's inability to secure possession of the ball was due to him. The opposition had blocked his usual routes to goal, forcing him into a situation where he had to make a pass. And he had fallen right into their trap.
They couldn't have orchestrated it better.
He held onto the ball tightly, as if his very life depended on it. It had always been this way. Just like them, the opposition was executing a well-thought-out plan. Why wouldn't they? Like him, they aimed to win!
With only 20 seconds left on the clock, the game hung in the balance, poised to end in a deadlock.
Swift as a sudden gust, the towering blonde intercepted the Kaiju, blocking his path with imposing force.
Just ahead, Sean awaited, ready to confront him head-on. "That's right! I'm going to take you down!"
The Kaiju had no room to dispute the challenge.
Instead, a rare smile graced his lips, a mix of respect and amusement crossing his features.
Now, that's interesting. Why'd I know you'd make it this far.
Six seconds remained on the timer.
As pressure mounted, both teams pushed themselves to the brink of exhaustion, increasing the likelihood of a critical error.
After all, they were only human, weren't they?
With deft skill, the Kaiju dribbled the ball from right to left hand, contemplating his next move.
Your defense is as porous as a sieve; even a blind man could spot the gaps. Step aside…
With a grace that defied human limits, he melded bodily coordination, dexterity, and agility into a whirlwind of motion, blitzing past as if from another realm, executing a roulette spin of his own.
...A goal beckons! He mused.
He had adapted.
The blonde stood frozen in stunned silence, his mind racing to grasp the gravity of what had just transpired.
The Kaiju paid no heed to the bewildered expressions around him. His instincts had guided him flawlessly, as if every angle, every movement, had been mapped out in advance. He knew he had broken through, leaving only the final shot to seal their fate.
With the timer ticking down to four seconds, in a blink, it dwindled to two.
With unwavering determination, he soared into action, leaping skyward with every fiber of strength, propelling the ball through the hoop with such precision that not even the rim felt its touch.
All net! His lips curled into a triumphant, almost sinister grin.
Now rest, king of veterans!