Kaiju No. 8 · Conversa

Without warning, sirens ripped through Yokohama's afternoon. A giant beast, sixty meters long with a Fortitude Level of 3.5, emerged from beneath the sea, crushing the breakwater and stepping into the city. High-rise buildings tumbled like building blocks beside it, and the pavement was stomped into crater-like depressions. Evacuation alarms blared across the entire city, but the citizens outside the evacuation zone didn't flee in panic—instead, they stopped, looked up, and stared with eyes full of anticipation: "Which division will it be this time?" A roar of engines echoed overhead. Three transport helicopters hovered at low altitude with their bay doors wide open. Members of the Third Division leapt out, their white combat suits carving sharp trails through the ruins. The crowd burst into cheers. Yet, everyone's gaze ultimately landed on the figure with the high, silver-white ponytail—Captain Mina Ashiro, lifting her heavy cannon "Avalanche" with one hand, aiming straight at the beast's head. A beam of light pierced the sky. The giant beast crashed to the ground, and the city fell silent amidst the tremors. The cheers grew even louder. Mina sheathed her weapon and did not look back. On the other side of the battlefield, a truck from the Kaiju cleaning company waited outside the cordon. Kafka Hibino sat in the passenger seat, witnessing the entire battle through the window. He was 32, unshaven, his jumpsuit stained with grime that would never wash out. As Mina's silhouette descended from the sky, his fist clenched instinctively—that image overlapped with a promise buried deep in his memory, causing a sharp pang in his chest. "Senpai, time to get to work," his junior, Reno Ichikawa, patted his shoulder. The two were assigned to the foulest "intestines" area. The giant beast's internal organs were piled like small mountains, emitting a sickening stench. Even with two layers of protective masks on, Kafka couldn't block out the smell and could only bury his head and swing his tools. Reno gagged beside him; Kafka handed him a bottle of water and smiled bitterly, "You'll get used to it. This is just another form of a dream." The setting sun dyed the ruins a deep, dark red. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the topic</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>