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Two billion people were watching when everything went wrong.
The live feeds showed Crimson Typhoon methodically tearing apart Otachi's defenses, plasma fire hammering into the creature's legs until it could barely stand. The triplets were making it look easy - textbook combat, clinical precision, the kind of performance that made people forget they were watching three human beings fight a transdimensional horror.
Then Otachi stopped limping.
The creature's eyes flashed with something that looked way too much like understanding. Its body exploded forward with speed that shouldn't have been possible for something that injured, launching itself out of the water in a perfect tackle that caught Crimson Typhoon completely off-guard.
CRASH.
The Jaeger went down hard, seawater erupting around them as Otachi's full weight drove them under. Every news helicopter captured the same image - the monster on top, jaws opening wide enough to swallow a bus, going straight for the cockpit.
People screamed at their screens. Kids started crying. Two billion hearts stopped beating.
Inside the conn-pod, the Wei Tang triplets didn't panic. Years of synchronized combat training took over like muscle memory.
"Central pulse, NOW!"
Their three minds acted as one. Crimson Typhoon's arms blocked Otachi's descending jaws while the chest reactor spun up to maximum output. The triangular core blazed with light bright enough to hurt.
BOOM.
The energy beam hit Otachi point-blank, launching the creature backward like it had been hit by a meteor. It crashed into the ocean fifty meters away, displacing so much water that the news helicopters had to climb to avoid the spray. When the Kaiju surfaced, its chest was a smoking crater of charred flesh and exposed bone.
But the victory had cost them.
"Energy at 40 percent!" Jin Wei's voice was tight with alarm. "One more shot like that and we're dead in the water!"
The plasma bombardment had eaten thirty percent of their reserves. The chest beam had taken another twenty. They had one finishing move left, maybe two if they got creative, and then Crimson Typhoon would be running on fumes.
The triplets' minds merged deeper, that eerie synchronization that happened when pilots stopped being three people and became something else entirely.
Crimson Typhoon's back thrusters opened.
WHOOSH.
Energy erupted from the jets, launching the Jaeger straight up out of the ocean like a rocket. Water streamed off the armor as they climbed, twenty meters, thirty, forty - high enough that the fall would hurt even a Kaiju.
Below them, Otachi thrashed in the water, mortally wounded but still dangerous.
"Charging left arm. All remaining power to the spike."
The claws retracted and locked together. Electricity danced along the entire limb as the internal piston system loaded with enough force to punch through a battleship. The arm stretched, reconfigured, became a gleaming spear of chrome and contained lightning.
Crimson Typhoon reached the apex of its jump and began to fall.
Time seemed to slow down. Every camera caught it from a different angle - the crimson Jaeger silhouetted against gray sky, descending like divine judgment toward the monster below.
IMPACT.
The spear-arm punched through Otachi's skull with so much force that it created a momentary vacuum in the water, a perfect circle of empty ocean before physics caught up and everything came crashing back together.
Crimson Typhoon landed in a half-kneel, left arm buried to the shoulder in dead Kaiju, seawater churning around them both. The pose looked almost ceremonial - a knight after slaying a dragon.
The image froze on every screen across the world. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.
Then the celebrations erupted.
People poured into streets from Shanghai to São Paulo, screaming and crying and hugging strangers. In Hong Kong, air raid sirens that had been wailing for an hour went silent, replaced by spontaneous cheering from every building. Kids who'd been hiding in bomb shelters came running out into sunlight that suddenly felt a little brighter.
Inside the conn-pod, the triplets held their pose for another thirty seconds, letting the spear's residual heat cook the inside of Otachi's skull until the blue blood evaporated into harmless steam. When they finally pulled back, the arm came free clean, barely a drop of toxin left to contaminate the ocean.
"Holy shit," Hu Wei whispered. "Did we just do that?"
"We just did that," Cheung Wei confirmed, his voice shaking with adrenaline.
Jin Wei started laughing - the kind of desperate, relieved laughter that came from surviving something that should have killed you. His brothers joined in, and for a moment the conn-pod was filled with the sound of three men who'd just proven that humanity could win.
The fight had lasted four minutes and seventeen seconds.
The helicopters brought Crimson Typhoon back to Shatterdome like they were carrying the Holy Grail. Bay One's doors were already open, maintenance crews standing ready, every person on base having watched the fight on monitors throughout the facility.
When the triplets finally climbed down from the cockpit, Aidan was waiting.
He didn't say anything, just opened his arms. The three of them crashed into him like they were his kids coming home from war, which maybe they were in a way.
"You did good," he said finally. "Really damn good."
"That was incredible," Cheung Wei was practically vibrating. "If we hadn't gotten aggressive, that thing wouldn't have even touched us! Did you see how clean that spear-strike was?"
"We didn't even use the third-arm laser," Jin Wei added, sounding genuinely disappointed about missing out on using their full arsenal.
Hu Wei just kept grinning like he'd won the lottery.
Aidan let them celebrate for a minute before reality crashed back in. "Don't get cocky about this win," he warned, his tone going serious. "Those Kaiju are designed weapons. The Precursors saw what Crimson Typhoon can do, and they're gonna adapt. Next time won't be this easy."
The triplets' excitement dimmed slightly.
"You need to integrate your martial arts training into the Jaeger controls as fast as possible. When something gets past your ranged weapons - and something will eventually - you can't hesitate. The moves need to be instinctive." He looked each of them in the eye. "The aliens are watching now. They're gonna send something specifically designed to counter what you just did. Be ready."
The warning sobered them up fast. They nodded, the celebration draining into grim determination.
After they left for mandatory post-mission medical screening, Aidan found Marshal Thompson in the monitoring room with the rest of the base leadership. The old man was laughing - actually laughing, something Aidan had maybe seen twice in the months he'd been here.
"Marshal Tang, someone's in a good mood," Aidan said, allowing himself a rare smile.
Marshal Tang's face lit up even more when he saw Aidan enter. He waved him over enthusiastically. "Ryan! That battle was perfection! You've given us something beyond what I dared hope for. The country owes you a debt we can't repay!"
The other officers and technicians in the room all turned to greet him with respect that bordered on reverence. "Dr. Ryan," they murmured, like he was visiting royalty.
"Tonight, we're throwing a proper celebration in the main hall!" Thompson announced, his voice carrying the kind of joy that came from winning when you'd expected to lose. "Everyone's invited. Break out the good stuff!"
"Hell yes!" someone shouted.
"About damn time!" another voice added.
Even Stacker Pentecost cracked a smile, and that man's face usually looked carved from stone.
That evening, the Shatterdome's cafeteria transformed into something that actually felt like a party. People brought out bottles they'd been saving for years - good whiskey, aged wine, even some truly questionable homemade moonshine that someone had been brewing in their quarters. Music played from portable speakers. Laughter echoed off the metal walls.
It wasn't just about the victory. Yeah, they'd killed a Category-3 without taking damage, which was huge. But what that fight represented was bigger than one dead monster.
Humanity had cracked fusion power. Clean, limitless energy that didn't poison the planet. The Arc Reactor wasn't just a better battery - it was proof that humans could innovate their way out of extinction. Every problem that had seemed unsolvable - radiation, resource depletion, environmental collapse - suddenly had answers.
Earth had just leveled up from a dying civilization to a Type-1 on the Kardashev Scale. They could harness planetary energy now. They could build things that previous generations had only dreamed about.
And maybe, just maybe, they could actually win this war.
People danced. They sang. They got drunk and told stories about where they'd been when the Kaiju first attacked, how scared they'd been, how many friends they'd lost. But for the first time in years, those stories ended with hope instead of despair.
Aidan watched it all from a corner table, nursing a beer he wasn't really drinking, feeling the weight of what came next.
This was just the beginning. The Precursors would adapt. The attacks would intensify. And everything he'd built would be tested against horrors that made Otachi look like a warm-up exercise.
But tonight, let people celebrate. Let them believe things were getting better.
Plz Throw Powerstones.