The thing wearing Kenta Sato's face drove through the gates of the Sagamihara Pharmaceuticals research facility with a perfect, practiced smile for the security guard. Its mind, a cold, alien intelligence wrapped in stolen human memory, catalogued everything. The number of guards. The model of the scanners. The blind spot in the camera coverage near the delivery bay.
Inside Akira Kurogiri's mind, a silent alarm blared.
[Ravan: Alert. Trace energy signature has entered Sagamihara Pharmaceuticals perimeter. Signal strength consistent with close proximity to kaiju biological matter. Threat probability: 94%.]
Akira didn't flinch. He was in the Tachikawa command center, watching the same live security feed from the facility that was being piped to Vice-Captain Hoshina. On the screen, "Kenta Sato" showed his ID, made a joke about the coffee, and walked inside.
"He seems normal," one of the junior operators said, stifling a yawn. "Another boring shift."
Akira said nothing. He watched the way the thing moved—too efficient, too observant. It didn't just see the people; it assessed them as threats or obstacles.
"He's not here for the coffee," Akira said, his voice low.
Hoshina, leaning against the console next to him, grunted. "No kidding. But we can't storm a civilian lab because your gut says so, Kurogiri. We need proof."
[Ravan: Proposal: Initiate passive bioscan on facility energy grid. Anomalous power draw would be consistent with tissue sample preservation systems activating.]
"Can we check if they've powered up the cryo-storage units in the last ten minutes?" Akira asked.
Hoshina raised an eyebrow but nodded to the tech. A few clicks later, the answer came back. "Yeah. Sector 3 cold storage just went to full power. Scheduled maintenance, the log says."
"There's no maintenance scheduled," Akira and Hoshina said at the same time. They looked at each other. Hoshina's lazy grin was gone.
"He's here for the samples from our fight," Hoshina muttered. "He's stealing himself."
The news hit the base like a physical blow. The creature wasn't just coming; it was already here, hiding in a human skin, and it was arming itself with their own weapons.
The order came down from Hoshina: prepare for an attack on the base. But it was a strange preparation. They couldn't just lock down; they had to lure it in, to trap it.
For Kafka Hibino, the pressure turned into a sharp, cold fear in his gut. He stood in the training room, but the dummy in front of him wasn't the enemy. The enemy was a ghost, a thief, a thing that knew their secrets. He tried to summon the power, just a flicker, to light a single sensor on the wall. Nothing. His hands were cold and clumsy.
"You're thinking about it too hard."
Reno's voice cut through his panic. He walked in, already in his gear, his face set in a look of grim determination.
"It's not like a switch, Reno," Kafka said, his voice strained. "It's a storm. I can't just aim a storm."
"Then don't," Reno said, stopping in front of him. "Stop trying to be a sniper. Be a guard dog." He pointed a thumb at his own chest. "I'll be the sniper. You just need to be the biggest, loudest thing between it and us when it gets close. You don't need to be precise. You just need to be there."
The simple, brutal logic of it cut through Kafka's fear. His job wasn't to be perfect. His job was to be a wall.
Akira found them both an hour later. The base was buzzing with activity—extra patrols, engineers welding reinforcement on the weaker western fence—but the three of them found a quiet corner near the mess hall.
"It's coming for the samples we have here," Akira said, getting straight to the point. "The ones from the first fight. It'll want it all."
"How do we stop a thing we can't see?" Kafka asked, the fear creeping back in.
"We don't look for it," Akira said. "We let it come to us. We protect one place."
[Ravan: Strategic analysis complete. Most probable infiltration point: Sector 4-West. Structural integrity is 22% below base average. Concealed approach possible.]
"Sector 4-West," Akira said. "The old storage. That's where it'll come in."
Reno nodded immediately. "Kikoru and I can set up a perimeter there. We can funnel anything that comes through right into a kill zone."
They both looked at Kafka. He took a deep breath, thinking about Reno's words. Be a guard dog.
"I'll be the door," Kafka said, his voice firmer now. "If it gets past your funnel… it has to get through me."
No more words were needed. The plan was set. It was crazy, and it relied on a power none of them fully understood, but it was theirs.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the base, the three of them stood together, looking toward the quiet, neglected buildings of Sector 4-West. The air was charged with a silent understanding. They were no longer just recruits. They were the unspoken shield, the last line of defense for a secret the whole base was depending on them to keep.
The waiting was the hardest part. Every creak of metal, every distant shout, felt like the start of it. Akira's hand rested on the hilt of his new sword. Reno checked his rifle for the tenth time. Kafka just clenched and unclenched his fists, waiting for the storm to break.
It was coming. They could all feel it.
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T/N :
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