Garuda Inferno's steps made water splash in every direction. Each movement was heavy, as if forcing a body that was already exhausted to keep advancing. The leg servos groaned, their metallic voices hoarse, but the machine obeyed.
The radar was starting to go haywire.
The red dots were no longer static.
They were spreading.
"Command," said Tomy. "Their formation is changing."
No answer yet. The radio channel was filled with overlapping sounds—shouts from operators, system warnings, fragments of commands cut off before they finished. Far below, the sonar showed intersecting wave patterns, neat like a migration route.
This wasn't a random attack.
It was a maneuver.
"Garuda Inferno," the AI's voice cut in again. "Undersea pressure is increasing.
Anomalous synchronization detected."
Tomy felt his own chest tighten. Not physically—more of an instinct. The same feeling you get when you realize the exit door has been locked from the outside.
The water on the west side of the bay suddenly dropped drastically. The sea surface seemed to be pulled downward, leaving a massive basin. The seabed was visible for a moment before the water surged back, darker, murkier.
From there, something emerged.
Not rose.
Rose was too simple.
The creature pushed the sea away.
A first ridge surfaced, followed by others. Its shape was different from the earlier ones—flatter, wider. Its coral-like protrusions were sharp, arranged symmetrically. Between them, pale blue lights ignited in sequence, like signals.
"Not the same type," whispered the sonar analyst. "This one... is a different class."
Tomy tightened his grip on the controls.
"How many?"
A pause. Then the voice answered, heavy. "At least three. Possibly more."
Too close to retreat.
Too many to hold off alone.
Warning lights flared in the cockpit again. The weapon cooling system dropped to critical levels. Garuda Inferno could fire—once more, maybe twice—before its barrels shut down completely.
"Tomy," the commander's voice came through again, clear this time. "If you hold your ground, the odds of your unit returning are low."
Tomy glanced toward the shore once more.
The city lights were dimming further. Some were completely out. Smoke obscured the coastline.
If he fell here, Papua fell with him.
"If I retreat," Tomy answered quietly, "we won't have time to prepare."
He slid the weapon lever. The system responded sluggishly, but it powered on. The hum of heating metal rose slowly, steadily. Garuda Inferno wasn't a fast machine. It was built to endure.
"Priority target?" asked the AI.
Tomy stared ahead. At the sea moving with purpose. At the creatures no longer hiding.
"The one at the front," he said.
"Let them know—"
Garuda Inferno stopped advancing. Stood firm in waist-deep water. Its weapon rose, aimed straight ahead.
"—this is not empty territory."
Beneath Cenderawasih Bay, something even deeper began to move.
Not joining the attack.
Observing.
And the real war…
was just about to begin.