The fog, as always, lingered — neither lifting nor falling, as though the air itself refused to settle.
Deep within the crevice below the centipede Kaiju's carcass, Kael and Oris stood before four dormant giants, each a different monstrosity, sprawled like forgotten gods in an ancient tomb.
The discovery of the Kaiju burial pit had sent a wave of purpose through Unit 404 and the survivors. There was now more than just survival on the line — there was a chance. A real, tangible, wrenching chance to fight back. Or leave.
Or both.
Oris was already waist-deep in the corpse of the crystal-scaled serpent, hands dancing over his scanner. The creature's hide was tougher than obsidian and thrummed faintly with latent radiation.
"Definitely not natural," he muttered.
Kael stood beside a bloated, web-limbed giant, its skin stretched like rubber over bone. He leaned down, watching how the skin shimmered under low light. He didn't like it. Not because it was alien, but because it was too clean — as if designed.
"You see this?" Oris called out, interrupting Kael's thoughts.
He walked over. Oris pointed at a line of silver-thread mesh embedded beneath the serpent Kaiju's plating — a strange, latticework pattern that pulsed softly.
"Metal?" Kael asked.
"No," Oris said. "Some kind of polymer-laced neural conduit. Synthetic."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Like a control wire."
Oris nodded grimly. "Exactly. Either these things are not wild… or something is enhancing them."
---
Back at the cave, Lisette, Kira, and Freya were busy recharging field welders and stabilizing salvaged battery cores.
They worked in silence until Freya broke it.
"Do you think the old men will make it?"
Lisette paused, adjusting her heat coupler. "I don't know. But they volunteered."
Kira sat nearby, sharpening her carbon-edge knife. "They were useless at first. Now they're heroes. It's weird."
Freya didn't reply. She just looked toward the cavern in the distance, where Kael and Oris were still harvesting the titanic bodies of dead monsters.
There was something about Kael. Not just the way he moved — like he carried a war on his back — but the way he kept moving. As if staying still would kill him faster than a Kaiju's jaws.
---
By dusk, the harvest had begun in earnest.
Oris and Kael had managed to remove two full radial plasma glands, several meters of bio-synthetic vein, and chunks of alloy plating harder than any mineral on their battleship's registry. They even found bone-core stabilizers inside the mammoth Kaiju's arms — shock-absorbing nodes that could reinforce future mecha joints.
The girls arrived with carts and containment tubes to assist.
"This one's dripping again," Freya said, gesturing to the serpent's leaking spinal fluid.
Kael sealed it with a heated clamp.
"Lisette, more tubing," Oris barked.
Kira wheeled over a power core stabilizer. "Trask and Draan prepped the sled. They're calling it the Ghost Slip."
Kael wiped sweat and plasma from his forehead. "How long before launch?"
Tyren appeared behind them, armor dusty and stained.
"Two hours. They've routed the ignition coils through the last functioning Kaiju gland. It'll give them just enough thrust to breach low-atmosphere. After that, they drift."
Kael looked at him. "And if they don't make it?"
"Then we start digging graves for more than Kaiju."
---
Later that night, everyone gathered.
The sled — cobbled together with whitecraft alloy, spare stabilizers, and reinforced Kaiju plating — stood like a coffin with wings. Trask and Draan stood beside it, suited up.
Kael handed Trask a sealed capsule. "This contains our internal logs, visual records, planetary data, and everything we know about these Kaiju. If you make it to Command… tell them Unit 404 survived. And that we're not broken."
Trask saluted him — not in form, but in heart.
"We'll do our best not to die before we get there."
Freya passed them rations. Lisette handed a sat beacon. Oris gave them a final nod before sealing the cockpit hatch.
The Ghost Slip powered up with a grinding hum.
The earth beneath them shook faintly.
Mist curled back.
The launch ramp shimmered with built-up tension.
"Good luck, old men," Tyren whispered, almost too quietly.
With a scream of light and pressure, the sled launched.
It vanished over the ridge, a streak of blue fire swallowed by the sky.
---
Silence returned.
But this time, it was not empty silence.
It was purpose.
A fire kindled.
Kael turned, voice low. "No more distractions. We have one job now."
Oris nodded. "We mine, we rebuild. Then we hunt again."
---