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Three years later. January 2025.
The world had changed, but not the way anyone had hoped.
Every Jaeger base around the Pacific Rim had upgraded their mechs with Lifeline Reactors over the past three years. Clean energy, unlimited power, all the promises Aidan's technology had offered. And none of it had mattered. The politicians had taken one look at the budget spreadsheets and decided that walls were cheaper than giant robots.
The "Anti-Kaiju Wall of Life" project hadn't been stopped by the Arc Reactor breakthrough - it had been accelerated by it. With clean energy solving humanity's power crisis, governments could redirect resources toward building the biggest construction project in human history. Thousands of miles of reinforced concrete, plasma cannons, and false hope stretching along every threatened coastline.
The Kaiju kept coming faster. The attacks kept getting worse. And one by one, Jaegers got destroyed in combat until the bean counters decided the program cost too much to maintain.
Now most of the Pacific Rim bases were shuttered. Mechs that had saved millions of lives were being announced as "retired" like they were office workers hitting pension age. The pilots who'd risked their minds and bodies were being reassigned to desk jobs or discharged entirely.
But here's what didn't add up: the Jaeger Program's budget hadn't been cut. The PPDC was still allocating the same resources, still sending the same funding. It was all just disappearing into one place.
Shatterdome Base. Bay Three.
For three years, nobody had been allowed inside. The person controlling it all was Dr. Ryan - the man who'd given humanity fusion power and then apparently decided to become a hermit. People were angry, confused, curious, desperate for answers. Every time someone spotted Aidan in the corridors and tried to ask what he was doing, he'd just shake his head with that infuriating mysterious smile and keep walking.
Marshal Stacker Pentecost had confronted him dozens of times over the past three years, demanding to know why Bay Three was monopolizing resources while real Jaegers were being scrapped for parts. Those meetings usually ended with Aidan refusing to budge an inch and Pentecost storming out, furious and helpless.
The PPDC's official statement was worthless: "Dr. Ryan is conducting classified research." That was it. No details, no timeline, no justification for why this "research" was more important than keeping combat-ready Jaegers operational.
Marshal Tang had been transferred when the Wall project launched, which conveniently removed the one person who'd consistently supported Aidan's work without question.
As for the Jaegers themselves, only four had received full Lifeline Reactor upgrades: Crimson Typhoon from China, Gipsy Danger from the US, Russia's Cherno Alpha, and Australia's Striker Eureka. A few others had been upgraded but got torn apart in combat, seemingly targeted by Kaiju that had learned to recognize the new technology.
Which brought them to today.
Sydney Coastline, January 2025
A Category-4 was coming ashore. Codename: Mutavore.
Sydney's Jaeger base had been shut down six months ago, its mechs officially retired and shipped to Shatterdome at Aidan's personal request - a move that had pissed off everyone who heard about it. Striker Eureka, Australia's pride and the most advanced Mark-5 ever built, was scheduled for "retirement" and transfer.
People had respected Dr. Ryan once. Three years ago, he'd been a hero who'd saved humanity from energy collapse. But three years of silence, three years of watching Jaegers get destroyed while he hoarded resources for some mystery project, had turned respect into resentment.
Still, nobody blamed him directly. Everyone just kept their heads down and did their jobs, because what else could you do?
Now Mutavore was their big test. The Wall of Life's moment to prove it could actually protect humanity, or fail and force everyone to admit they'd built the world's most expensive mistake.
The monster that crawled out of the South Pacific looked like God's rough draft of what a nightmare should be.
Gray-white hide covered in bony protrusions. A crown of shark-fin ridges running down its skull and spine. Spikes jutting from every joint like natural weapons. Its claws could tear through steel, its tail could demolish buildings, and it had no eyes - just smooth bone where eyes should be, because apparently it hunted through some other sense that humans didn't want to think about too hard.
It moved like a Tyrannosaurus rex, all coiled power and predatory grace, except with multiple sets of front claws that suggested evolution had given up on subtlety and gone straight for "kill everything."
From helicopters hovering above, news crews broadcast every detail to a world holding its breath. In the Wall of Life's military command center, officers watched monitors showing the creature's approach, calculating distances and angles, hands hovering over firing controls.
Fighter jets screamed overhead, launching their payloads. Missiles and plasma fire hammered into Mutavore's hide, tearing chunks of flesh, slowing its advance. Blue blood sprayed into the ocean, steam rising where superheated plasma made contact.
"It's working," someone whispered in the command center.
For about thirty seconds, it looked like they might actually stop it.
Then Mutavore roared - a sound that made the helicopter pilots grab their controls tighter - and suddenly the thing that had been lumbering forward dropped to all fours. Its axe-blade crown lowered like a battering ram, and it charged.
The creature moved like a shark now, fast and streamlined, cutting through water and weapons fire like they were barely there.
"Holy shit, stop it! Stop it NOW!" The Sydney base commander's voice cracked with panic. "It's gonna breach the shore!"
"We can't lock on, it's moving too fast!" An officer's hands flew over targeting controls that couldn't keep up.
"Then fire everything! You wanna let that thing get through the wall?!" The general's face was red, spit flying.
"Sir, we can only guarantee a kill shot when it's on land. If we waste the laser weapons now—"
"How many shots do we have?"
"Two. Maybe less if the plasma cannons drain too much power from the reactors."
The general's jaw worked silently. This was the problem with defensive warfare - you had to let the enemy come to you, had to wait for the perfect moment while people watched and judged every decision.
"Hold fire on the plasma cannons," he finally ordered, his voice dropping to something cold and dead. "Let it come ashore. Then we hit it with everything."
"Sir, confirmed. Ceasing plasma fire."
Around the world, people watching the live feeds started screaming at their screens.
"What are they doing?!"
"Why'd they stop shooting?!"
"They're just letting it through!"
But Mutavore didn't care about human confusion. It hit the beach at full speed, water exploding around it as thousands of tons of alien murder machine made landfall.
In the command center, the general took one long breath.
"Target is in optimal range."
"Fire everything. I want that thing dead before it touches our wall."
Every weapon system along the Sydney barrier activated simultaneously.