The seawater around Garuda Inferno slowly calmed.
Not because it was safe—but because that creature had moved away.
The radar was still alive.
The red dots remained. Not approaching, but not leaving either.
Waiting.
Garuda Inferno stood rigidly in the shallow waters of Cenderawasih Bay. Its iron paint was peeling on its chest. Several sensor panels were dead. The system was half-awake, like someone forced to get up after being knocked down.
"Unit status?" asked the commander.
Tomy checked the panel. His breathing was still heavy. "Moderate damage. Chest sensors offline. Weapons still operational…
but not for long."
On the radio, silence for a moment.
"Coastal evacuation is still ongoing," the voice from HQ finally came through. "But that creature is making the sea routes unstable. Small ships can't get out."
Tomy glanced toward land.
Black smoke still rose from the shoreline.
Some wooden houses were just skeletons.
The city's emergency sirens sounded intermittently, swallowed by the sound of waves.
"He did it on purpose," Tomy said softly.
"What?"
"That creature didn't finish us off just now,"
he continued. "He was testing. Then retreated. Like… preparing for something."
An answer didn't come immediately. But on the sonar screen, one red dot blinked, then vanished. Not dead. Descended to a depth that couldn't be read.
"Contact lost," the operator reported.
"Entered the trench."
The Cenderawasih Trench.
Deep. Dark. And almost never touched by humans.
The indicator lights in the cockpit suddenly dimmed momentarily.
The system crackled.
"Undersea pressure disturbance," said the Garuda AI. "Source unidentified."
Tomy clenched his fist. "That's not one species."
In the command center, the chatter grew loud. Orders overlapped. Some demanded Garuda retreat. Some ordered it to hold position. Some just stayed silent.
"Tomy," the commander's voice was quieter now. "If your unit falls here, we lose our only card."
Tomy understood what he meant.
Garuda Inferno wasn't a hero. It was just the last wall.
"But if I retreat now," Tomy answered, "they come ashore."
Silence again.
Then another voice came onto the channel. Not the commander's. Not HQ. The voice of Mikael, the hangar chief technician.
"Tomy," he said, his breath audible and labored. "The Papua hangar… it won't last long."
"What do you mean?"
"Underground sensors picked up vibrations from the sea. Not heading toward you,"
Mikael swallowed hard. "Heading toward the cliffs. Toward the hangar."
Tomy felt the back of his neck go cold.
They weren't trying to breach the defense.
They were trying to cut off the return route.
"Garuda Inferno," the AI said, suddenly.
"Anomalous pressure detected on the west side of the bay."
The water there began to swirl slowly. Not a big whirlpool. Smoother. More orderly. Like a pattern.
"Tomy…" the commander's voice was tense.
"We are ordering you to—"
"Negative," Tomy cut him off.
He pushed the control lever. Garuda Inferno turned, taking one heavy step toward the west. Water splashed with every footfall.
"I'm not waiting for them to come ashore,"
he said. "If this is an invasion, I'll be the first to greet them."
In the distance, the sea began to churn again.
Not one back.
Not two.
Many.
The emergency lights of Papua city flickered from behind the smoke.
And beneath the surface of Cenderawasih Bay, something moved in unison.
Not wild.
Not random.
Coordinated.
Garuda Inferno stepped forward.
And the sea—
finally chose its victim.