Admiral Faulkner stepped out into the command deck of the USS Abraham Lincoln, a steaming mug in his hand. He took in the morning sun and then lifted his mug to his lips, taking a sip. He let out a contented sigh.

It was good to be back.

Turns out there were some petty people back in D.C. who could get even a high-ranking admiral stuck on deskwork. Something about that whole Le Blank incident. Lots of shouting about ‘unauthorized diplomatic activity’, ‘fraternizing with the enemy’, ‘inviting civilians into classified military operations’, and ‘unprofessional public criticism of national policy’. Which were a lot of words to say ‘doing his freaking job’.

But now he was back.

“Sir, target on approach.”

Yes, nothing would ruin this moment. Just him, the ship, and the sea. Not a document in sight.

“Um, orders, sir?”

Certainly no specific reason at all the military had placed their least favorite admiral back in command of the fleet. No reason at all.

“Admiral, time is running out.”

“Dang nab it, lieutenant! Can’t you see I’m having a moment here?! Can’t a man drink his morning coffee and escape reality for just five minutes?!”

“S-Sorry, sir.”

“Dang right you are. Well, fine, so what? The unidentified underwater bogey is heading straight for San Francisco, right? We’re supposed to identify and divert course, right?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“Well do that, then!”

“Well…we’ve tried, sir, but bogey is not responding to hails. We tried to get a visual but the subs and the undersea drones can’t get close. Water is too choppy by the bogey.”

Admiral Faulkner took another sip and shrugged.

“Well drop some depth charges ahead of the bogey, far enough away not to hit it. Try to spook it away or something.”

“Yes sir.”

The officers on the Lincoln began speaking into their mics, relaying the Admiral’s orders. Several Navy helicopters flew through the sky, a bit of a trip since the fleet was keeping its distance from the target. Once they arrived they dropped their depth charges into the ocean. Huge plumes of water shot into the sky shortly after.

“Anything?”

“Negative, sir. Bogey is continuing on course.”

Admiral Faulkner heaved a deep sigh, rubbing his chin.

“...this is a stupid mission. But whatever. Ok, first off, I want the fleet to spread out. And I want every sailor ready to abandon any given ship at a moment's notice.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Once that’s done, we’ll try a direct hit. And when whatever the kind of bullcrap this thing is decides to wreck our crap, all ships are to immediately retreat and regroup at the fallback point. Closest ships will send helicopters for search and rescue should any ship go down.”

“U-Um, sir?”

“Sorry Lieutenant, but the fact that DC let me back tells me this is going to be some sort of bullcrap. So we are prioritizing lives first. If it is by some miracle of God something we can actually handle, we can deal with it after we regroup. But let’s try not to lose the fleet this time around if not.”

“Y-Yes sir.”

Admiral Faulkner closed his eyes and tried to breath deeply as the officers relayed his orders and the fleet moved accordingly. Soon all was ready. The fleet was spread out and ready to retreat. The lifeboats were prepped and ready. The helicopters were hovering directly above the bogey.

“All ships ready and awaiting orders, Admiral.”

Admiral Faulkner heaved one more sigh.

“Here we go again. Deploy depth charges.”

The bombs dropped from the helicopters, falling through the air.

They fell through the surface and sank into the deep.

A moment later, huge plumbs of water shot into the sky as the charges detonated.

“Bogey is coming to the surface!”

“All ships scatter and retreat! Get away from the bogey, and if you can’t lure him away from the fleet!”

“Sir, bogey is breaking the surface! We have a visual.”

Admiral Faulkner glanced at the screen. He dropped his mug.

“Oh shi…”

Up in the sky, a huge C-130 military transport plane flew through the sky, heading out and over the ocean. It was a partially cloudy day, and the plane was currently located over a patch of clouds, blocking their view of the sea.

“Hey, you know what we’re shooting at?”

“Not a clue. Command’s been very tight-lipped so far.”

“That’s weird, isn’t it?”

“Well, Admiral Faulkner’s the one who put in the request for air support.”

“Ah, the guy who chewed out the government during that whole flying castle thing?”

“That’s the one. Command is probably scared he’s going to spill the beans or something, so they’re keeping his comms running through them only.”

“Now I’m really curious.”

The other pilot shrugged.

“Well whatever it is, it’s about to have a very bad day.”

The pilot went ahead with bombing procedures. The floor of the plane’s cargo hold dropped open.

In it was a GBU-43/B Massive Ordinance Air Blast bomb. Clocking in at over 20,000 pounds with an explosive force equal to eleven tons of TNT, the bomb is the most powerful non-nuclear weapon in the American arsenal and the largest conventional bomb ever used in combat. It is known by another name:

The Mother of All Bombs.

And these pilots were about to drop it on some poor, unfortunate soul down there.

The pilot lifted up a short prayer for whoever was down there and then dropped the bomb.

Down.

Down it fell, whistling through the air as the GPS guided it towards its target.

Moments before it arrived, the C-130 flew over a gap in the clouds, giving the pilots a clear view of the ocean.

And then the Mother of All Bombs exploded.

The ocean lit up as a miniature sun appeared on its surface. A shockwave rippled through the sea, sending massive waves radiating out. A huge plumb of water and mist shot into the sky.

And then the mist fell.

The pilots’ eyes widened.

“Oh shi…”

Linda grimaced as she held the phone to her ear. She nodded and walked over to Londyn, holding out the phone. The Director of the ILS was currently slumped at her desk, covering her eyes with a hand.

“D-Director…the Pentagon is on the line…”

“Stop.”

“Director?”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“U-Um.”

“The military can handle it. They have bombs, right? They have all sorts of really big weapons, right? Tell them to use one of those. I’m out. I’m busy.”

Linda glanced away as she whispered.

“...they already tried.”

“...what was that, Linda?”

“...they’re on the line. They said…they’ve already tried everything short of a WMD. And the target is too close to San Francisco now. They need to evacuate the city before they can try anything bigger.”

Londyn dropped her head onto the desk.

“...no more.”

“...Director?”

“I said no more! I’ve had it! We finally, finally got more than two continuous hours of sleep! We finally started to see the casualty reports getting smaller! We were finally getting a handle on things! SO WHAT THE HECK DO THEY EXPECT ME TO DO ABOUT A FREAKING KAIJU?!!!”

As Londyn screamed her heart out, the main, wall sized display in her office showed an image of San Francisco. Just outside the bay, heading towards the golden gate bridge, was a creature. Two legs the size of skyscrapers, sending waves through the oceans each time they rose and fell. A scaled body built like a mountain. An elongated jaw filled with hooked teeth. A huge sail on its back, shimmering red in the sun.

Missiles and explosions from boats and planes far away peppered the beast, but left no mark on its scales. Nor did the barrage distract the monstrosity from its course.

A spinosaurus-like creature, only much, much larger, opened its jaw and let out a roar. A roar heard through the entire Bay Area.

Bob froze as he saw the scene on the television. He slammed his face with his palm and groaned.

Ok, he knew about the cult. He knew they were searching for artifacts of great power. He knew they were planning some world-ending plot. They were even searching for Saydaa after her power soaked into the serum spread across the world. He knew what they planned for her.

He thought he had accounted for it.

But seriously?! Kaiju?! They had freaking kaiju in their back pocket?!

He should have dealt with them when he had the chance.

He pulled out his phone, navigating through his contacts to a certain number.

He stared at it for a moment, glancing up at the screen.

The military ceased its barrage as ILS grav-jets flew into the area.

He took a deep breath.

Then he put away his phone.

The world was changing, growing ever more chaotic. More and more threats, more unforeseen occurrences. A single accident by one girl threw the whole planet into chaos.

Humanity needed to adapt if it was going to survive.

Bob heaved another sigh. People were going to die. A lot of people if Londyn and the ILS couldn’t handle things.

But they needed to try.

If they could overcome it, if they could hold the line without relying on big sister, then humanity could survive on its own. And they would be far better prepared the next time something unexpectedly horrible occurs.

But if they relied on big sister here, if they gave up and waited to be saved without a fight…then they would forever be dependent and helpless. The whole of humanity’s future would depend solely on one person’s willingness to protect it.

“...I’m sorry Londyn. But you need to do this. I’ll see what I can do to help…”

That is, if there’s anything he could do to stop a freaking kaiju. Plus, someone needed to deal with the cult in all this. He wasn’t going to leave Saydaa in their clutches.

Bob swore.

Doomsday cults are so annoying.