Last one standing

The descent into R22's hellscape felt different this time.

Kael sat still in Ravager's cockpit, jaw clenched, eyes burning with a familiar fury. The landscape beneath him wasn't just scarred—it was wrong. The cloud patterns spiraled unnaturally. The winds whispered like voices through the hull. Even the Kaiju nests on his display appeared emptier than they should have.

He landed softly atop a plateau overlooking the vast dead zones, his sensors picking up faint traces of extreme radiation. But he wasn't here to worry about the climate. His eyes darted to the blips on his radar—nothing but static. Nothing but silence.

Too silent.

"I knew it," he muttered, fingers moving over the controls as he manually scanned the terrain. "Something's still alive. Something's still here."

It was instinct—warrior's instinct—that pushed Kael forward when the evidence had remained elusive. The shredded corpses of the two 'Origin' Kaiju they had found had seemed too… perfect. No struggle. No decay. It was staged—no doubt now.

The deeper Ravager marched into the shifting canyons and radioactive valleys, the more Kael's breath tightened. Every rock was scorched. Every path caved in. Vegetation had turned black and glassy from the heat, and no other Kaiju life forms had appeared for over an hour.

He passed through what looked like a ravine of bones—spines longer than buildings, claws the size of tanks. He activated the external scan, zooming in.

That's when he saw it.

A shadow, larger than anything he'd seen before, moved across the ridge on the far side of the valley.

Heavy. Slow. Deliberate.

Kael froze. There you are.

Ravager's systems flicked into silent mode. Kael moved the mech behind a ridge and perched like a predator. His fingers hovered over weapon controls, but he didn't fire.

Not yet.

From his position, he saw it in full form.

The true Origin Kaiju.

It stood well over 180 meters tall, its hunched back arched with jagged bony protrusions that shimmered like molten iron. Its skin was a chaotic blend of obsidian black and deep crimson, and its shoulders glowed with a dull gold hue—radiation leaking like vapor from each step. Its face was a grotesque hybrid of beast and something alien, with eyes that shimmered with thought.

Yes. Thought.

Kael swallowed hard.

"This… this isn't just a monster," he muttered, "it's something more."

The beast walked toward the carcasses of the previous 'Origin' Kaiju—the ones Kael and Tyren assumed had died mysteriously. It didn't mourn. It didn't hesitate.

It devoured them.

Massive, gnarled jaws unhinged and tore through bone, muscle, armor. The beast ate not for hunger, but for strength. It was absorbing the abilities, the essence of the others. Its body began to shift in real time—growing, pulsing, evolving.

Kael's lips parted in horror. "You weren't hiding. You were… waiting."

Waiting for the others to die. Or killing them itself.

The one they had killed earlier—it had been a juvenile. A new spawn. An offspring created by this abomination.

Kael slowly pulled away and parked behind a cliff face. He shut off the primary systems and dropped Ravager into cold stealth mode. The cockpit lights dimmed, leaving only his own breathing to fill the air.

His mind raced.

They were wrong about everything.

The Kaiju weren't just beasts reacting to a mutation. They were following the direction of this single entity—one that now had no rivals. No challengers. It had devoured all the others. And now, with its offspring gone, it was angry.

A low growl vibrated through the rocks as the Origin Kaiju roared once more. It was louder than thunder, deeper than an earthquake, and it shook Kael to his bones.

He watched it stomp across the field, marking territory, releasing pulses of radiation in a patterned frequency.

Kael's eyes widened.

"It's calling something."

Or someone.

Suddenly, a smaller lizard Kaiju emerged from a crevice nearby—but it didn't roar or charge. It bowed. The Origin Kaiju reached down and touched it. And within seconds, the smaller beast collapsed—its body shriveled and sucked dry.

Kael's heart pounded in his chest.

"This is no longer a war," he whispered. "It's a purge."

Then his private comm buzzed.

It was Ryssa.

He hesitated.

"Kael, where are you? Are you safe? Please answer me."

He didn't respond. He couldn't. Not now. She would demand he return—and she might be right—but if he didn't confirm what he had just seen, they'd walk into slaughter again.

So he turned the comm off.

Back in the cockpit, Kael drew in a breath and locked in the neural sync system. His HUD blinked green. Ravager responded like a second skin.

He couldn't fight it yet. But he would.

He slid into low gear and began a slow retreat.

But not before whispering, "This time, I finish it."

Meanwhile…

Back on the battleship, Tyren, Ziya, and Ryssa were all huddled in the command center, reviewing a satellite glitch they had picked up from R22.

"He's there," Ziya whispered. "That's his signature. Kael went alone."

Ryssa's hands trembled on the console. "He promised me… he wasn't supposed to go alone."

Tyren clenched his fists. "He didn't want us in danger. That bastard always thinks everything is on his shoulders."

"I'm going," Ryssa said.

"No," Tyren snapped. "You go, he'll never forgive himself. We wait."

Ziya placed her hand over Tyren's. "But what if he doesn't come back?"

Tyren looked away. "He'll come back."

Ziya's voice cracked. "How do you know?"

Tyren looked toward the screen.

"Because he's Kael."