Scarlet stepped forward as if the wind followed her, voice low and fierce. "We kill every Kaiju bloodline, then we go after their god," she said. "We won't leave a single drop of their blood behind."
Ryder watched her with a half-smile and a memory tugging at the edge of his thoughts. "I've heard that word before," he said, eyes narrowing. "God."
Scarlet didn't blink. Her calm was the kind that steadied others. "We take down anyone any last person or thing with ties to the Kaiju. We bury them all, one by one, until we reach our goal." She folded her hands and gave them the speech she'd been practicing in the long nights before raids, the kind of speech that clanged like steel in the chest.
Ryder felt the resolve sink in like an anchor. This time, he thought, we will not fail.
"When this is over," Scarlet said softer, "you make sure to end everything."
Ryder's voice was a vow. "Don't worry. I'll make sure it ends." He could taste it already—the final battle like a coin flipping in the air, edge glinting. "Our final battle."
"Magnificent," Scarlet mocked, amusement quick across her face. "Our names will be written into history for slaying the Kaiju from the land."
"Oh, bravo. Bravo nice speech," Ryder clapped once, theatrical.
"Shut up," Scarlet snapped, but the corners of her mouth twitched. It was the kind of family they were: sharp with each other, fierce in the field.
A shout ripped across the settlement. "Run! Run!"
People were already bolting from doorways, dragging children, grabbing what little they could carry. The Kaiju were here.
"Listen to my boys," a man called—a leader whose voice tried to sound calm though his knuckles were white on his rifle. "This is where you stand up and hold your ground."
He stood like an old oak in a storm, but the tremor in his words betrayed him. "Show them what it means to be a Kaiju hunter. Show them what the weak are made of!"
A roar answered him as his men rallied; the sound was an animal's desperate bravado. Then the ground split with a keening shriek as a Kaiju ripped through a row of houses, black smoke coiling from torn wood. Somewhere, a child's scream bent the air.
"Help! Help!" someone shouted. Nearby, a Kaiju lunged hideous mass of jaws and tar-like skin. A pair of young hunters sprinted for cover, only to be swallowed by teeth that closed like shutters.
"You call yourselves hunters?" the leader murmured, hands trembling. He watched men he'd trained vomit or collapse under the sight of entrails and steam. "What good are we when we can't even kill a lesser Kaiju?"
"Our boys will die!" someone cried. The fear was contagious; it crept faster than any poison.
"If it comes to it, we fight to our last breath," the boss said, but his voice had lost its iron. His eyes scanned the battlefield, searching for a miracle.
"Boss watch out!" a kid yelled.
A Kaiju swung a massive limb. The boss stumbled, the blow meant to crush. Time slowed like syrup.
Something fell from the sky.
For a heartbeat the world froze—men mid-scream, Kaiju mid-roar—as a gleam cut through the smoke and ash. It crashed into the flank of a towering beast with the sound of breaking glass, and for a second the Kaiju convulsed as if stunned.
Ryder hit the dirt and rolled on instinct, his back slamming against the cool soil. He looked up. The object, no bigger than a man, had shattered into a dozen pieces, but its light still burned like a heart.
"Ah—thankfully I landed on a cushion," Ryder muttered, wiping grit from his mouth. There was a ridiculousness to luck like that; absurd, but alive.
Around him, the battlefield shuddered. Men who had been frozen regained their motion with a strangled cheer. The Kaiju snarled, enraged at the intervention, and turned to rip away the sparkling wreckage.
"Wh—who are you?" the boss demanded, pointing at the fallen light. He had bled bravely, but his voice cracked like old leather.
.
---
Flashback
"I know when it is over, we will have our battle," Ryder said, his voice calm yet edged with certainty, as though the promise of blood had already been written in the air.
"Magnificent," Scarlet replied, her lips curving into a faint, dangerous smile. The glow in her crimson eyes flared like embers feeding on fresh air.
"We take down any last person and thing that has connections with the Kaiju," Scarlet continued, her tone carrying the weight of command. "We bury them all one by one, until we reach our goal. No escape, no mercy. Only ash will remain when we are finished." Her words cut the silence like sharpened steel, lingering, resonating with unshakable conviction.
From the shadows, a guttural voice slithered forth, thick with contempt.
"Pur… you are acting haughty in front of the almighty master, foolish human," Gelspawn hissed, its grotesque form shifting, dripping with unnatural slime. The very ground seemed to recoil under its presence.
Ryder turned his gaze slowly, not with fear, but with a sharpness that matched blades drawn for war. "Gelspawn," he said, voice steady, as though greeting an old rival rather than a monster that carried the stench of corruption. "How have you been? Long time no see."
"Huh?" Gelspawn froze, its tone slipping into disbelief. For a moment, its monstrous form faltered. The confidence it carried twisted into something else hesitation.
Scarlet's eyes narrowed, watching the exchange with quiet intrigue. Ryder's tone was not mocking, nor filled with hatred. Instead, it was the kind of voice one used when recognizing an old enemy that had haunted his path for years.
The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken history. Gelspawn's eyes flickered, remembering something something Ryder hadn't forgotten either.