The silence that settled over the Northern District was heavier than the smoke and dust choking the air. It was the silence of spent violence, of unanswered questions, and of profound, unsettling confusion. Where once stood industrial landmarks—gantries, warehouses, the skeletal framework of the chemical plant—now lay a apocalyptic wasteland of twisted metal, glass dust, and craters that glowed faintly with residual energy.
The rescue operation was a study in controlled chaos. Searchlights from helicopters carved through the settling dust, illuminating scenes of destruction that made even veteran officers pause. Medics rushed through the rubble, their boots crunching on debris, attending to the three conscious but severely wounded recruits first.
Kafka Hibino was carried out on a stretcher from the cellar, feigning a groggy awakening. "Wh...what happened? The kaiju... it was so fast..." he mumbled, his performance bolstered by genuine exhaustion and very real, if superficially exacerbated, bruises. The medics were gentle, their focus on his physical state, not the inconsistencies of his story.
Near the epicenter of the second blast, Reno Ichikawa was carefully stabilized, his chest wound sealed by the advanced med-system of his suit but still a stark, angry red. Kikoru Shinomiya refused a stretcher, walking out with her head held high despite a pronounced limp and her uniform stained with both her blood and Reno's. Her story, delivered to a stone-faced Mina and a observant Hoshina, was brief and unwavering: they fought, they lost, the kaiju vanished.
But the evidence was a chaotic mess that refused to fit her neat narrative.
The crater at the chemical plant was massive, its edges vitrified from immense, instantaneous heat. Scanners picked up energy readings that were off the charts—a bizarre cocktail of standard kaiju radiation and an unknown, unstable energy signature that matched nothing in their databases. There was no body, no remains of the slender kaiju. It had simply ceased to be.
Meanwhile, at the shipyards, the story was equally baffling. Akira Kurogiri was extracted from his metallic tomb, unconscious and pale, his body a roadmap of cuts and a worrying number of broken bones. The area around him showed signs of a battle of unbelievable precision and power—sections of gantries neatly severed, shipping containers sheared in half with clean cuts, and one perfect, spherical void where matter had simply ceased to exist. And like its twin, the horned kaiju had also vanished without a trace, leaving behind only a puddle of strange, black sludge that was already evaporating by the time the science team could bag it.
The two primary threats were gone. But the mystery of the blue kaiju remained, a ghost in the machine of every report.
In the bustling medical bay of Tachikawa Base, the atmosphere was a familiar echo of tension, but now layered with deeper, more confusing whispers. The room was a sterile white cocoon of beeping monitors and hushed voices, but the air hummed with unspoken questions.
Kafka, Reno, and Kikoru were placed in a secured wing, under the watchful eyes of not just medical staff, but also discreet security details. Akira was in a separate, critical care unit, his body hooked to more machines, his face peaceful in an unnatural, deep sleep.
"The doctors say it's a profound systemic shock," a medic reported to Mina and Hoshina outside Akira's room. "His body is healing, incredibly fast actually, but his consciousness... it's like it's rebooted and is running diagnostics. They can't say when he'll wake up. A month, maybe more."
Hoshina whistled softly, peering through the glass at Akira's still form. "Kid pushed himself to the absolute brink. And against what? Something that can do... that." He gestured vaguely in the direction of the northern districts.
Mina's expression was unreadable, but her mind was racing, cross-referencing data points that refused to align.
Two unprecedented, intelligent kaiju appear and teleport away three recruits.A third, massive kaiju energy signature (8.1) appears and vanishes at the square.Said signature matches residue found at the square and energy traces at the chemical plant.Kafka Hibino, a man with a 1% release force, is found unconscious but alive at both scenes of catastrophic battle. And how did he even reached there. That is possible only if he is also teleported along with them in the hands of those kaiju. His two comrades are critically injured by a kaiju he claims knocked him out early, a kaiju that then allegedly vanished after a massive explosion he supposedly slept through.
The math was undeniable, yet the conclusion was insane.
"He shouldn't be alive, Soshiro," Mina said, her voice low. "Let alone with just bruises and exhaustion. Reno and Kikoru, two of our most promising recruits, were nearly killed. He was right there with them. How?"
Hoshina's usual grin was absent. "The old man's luckier than a lottery winner. Or he's not what he seems." He crossed his arms. "You thinking what I'm thinking? That blip on the scanner..."
"I'm thinking that we have a witness—a child—who described a 'good' blue kaiju with big teeth saving her life weeks ago," Mina replied, her gaze shifting down the hall toward Kafka's room. "And now we have a catastrophic battle with a blue energy signature at its center, after which our least capable recruit emerges virtually unscathed."
"You want me to dig?" Hoshina asked.
"Quietly," Mina affirmed. "Full background. Everything on Kafka Hibino. His cleaning company records, his medical history, everything. I want to know who he is. And I want a discreet 24/7 watch on his room. Not as a prisoner. As a person of interest."
Hoshina nodded. "On it." He walked off, already tapping his comm.
Mina remained, watching Akira breathe. The genius prodigy was a mystery, but a useful one. His power was raw, immense, and now unquestionably loyal to the Defense Force. He was a weapon they needed. But Kafka... Kafka was an anomaly. An inconsistency. And in her world, inconsistencies got people killed.
Down the hall, the secured wing was quieter. Reno was asleep, sedated for pain. In the adjacent room, Kafka lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He could hear the beep of Reno's heart monitor, a steady, reassuring sound. He had heard the doctors. A month. Akira was out for a month. Guilt gnawed at him. If I was stronger... if I could control it better...
Across the room, Kikoru was also pretending to sleep. Her mind was a war zone. The image of the blue monster—of Kafka—taking blow after blow to protect them was burned into her retinas. The raw power of his final punch. And then the sight of him, just a helpless, kind-faced man again, lying vulnerable in the dark. The lie she told Captain Ashiro felt like a betrayal of everything she was taught, and yet, protecting him felt like the only right thing she had ever done.
The door hissed open slightly, and Iharu Furuhashi's head popped in, his face uncharacteristically somber. "Hey... you guys awake? They won't let us in to see the big guy yet." He meant Akira.
"Mostly," Kafka said, sitting up slowly.
Iharu slipped in, followed by a quiet Haruichi Izumo. "The footage from the drones is... it's insane," Iharu whispered, his eyes wide. "You guys fought that? The one in the shipyard... Kurogiri was moving like a demon. We couldn't even see most of it, just blurs and stuff exploding. And the other one... that blast of light... what even was that? The feed whited out completely!"
Haruichi nodded, his calm demeanor strained. "The energy readings were unprecedented. It is a miracle you all survived. Especially you, Hibino-san. The initial reports from the medics say your injuries are the least severe."
Kafka laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "Ah, yeah... I guess I got lucky. I must have been thrown clear or something before the big boom." The lie tasted like ash.
Iharu bought it completely. "Man, you're like a cockroach! Nothing can kill you!" Haruichi, however, just watched Kafka, his sharp eyes missing little.
The conversation was a microcosm of the base's mood—a mixture of awe, confusion, and rampant speculation. Everyone was talking about the battle, the vanished kaiju, and the incredible durability of the 1% rookie.
Days passed. Five. The Northern District was cordoned off, a massive cleanup and investigation underway. The public was told of a victory against powerful new kaiju, with brave recruits injured in the line of duty. The whispers about a "third kaiju" or a "blue defender" were contained within the Defense Force, a closely guarded and confusing secret.
Mina stood before Commander Isao Shinomiya in his office, delivering her final report on the incident.
"...and thus, the two identified Kaiju No. 9 variants are considered to have retreated, likely to recover and adapt," she concluded, her voice formal. "Recruits Shinomiya and Ichikawa are expected to make a full recovery. Recruit Kurogiri remains in a coma, his condition stable but unchanged. Recruit Hibino has been discharged with a clean bill of health."
Isao steepled his fingers, his expression grave. "This 'blue signature,' Captain. Your assessment?"
"Inconclusive, sir. The evidence is contradictory. Until we have more data, I am treating it as an unresolved variable from the engagement. Perhaps a tertiary kaiju, or an unknown ability of the primary foes."
Isao nodded slowly, his sharp eyes seeing the unsaid words in her report. "See that you find that data, Captain. Unresolved variables have a habit of becoming existential threats. Dismissed."
Mina saluted and left. The official line was set. But the investigation into Kafka Hibino was just beginning.
Back in the hospital wing, Kafka sat on the edge of his now unused bed, discharged but waiting for Reno and Kikoru to be cleared. He looked down the hall toward Akira's silent room.
Hang in there, Akira, he thought. When you wake up, you'll have to explain all this. Because I have no idea what I'm doing.
The aftermath was over. The period of uneasy questions had begun.
This story is inspired from various fanfics i have read from around the world so if you find any similarities please dont mind . Thank you
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