Sakura climbed the fire escape, one hand on the rusted rail, the other checking her phone. Three years of tracking, and now the thing that killed her family was finally in range. The roof would give her a clean view of the coast. She could see it coming. She could be ready this time. The telescope waited where she'd left it that morning, bolted to the roof's edge. She'd hauled it up piece by piece before dawn. The coralline barrel caught the late sun, pink and blue patterns shifting across its surface. Sakura adjusted the lens, sweeping it across the horizon. There. A dark shape breaking the water, still miles out but moving steady toward the city. Her chest tightened where the ribs used to be. She pulled out her phone and marked the coordinates. The thing didn't know she'd gotten here first.

Sakura kept her phone pressed to her ear as she crossed the city council building's lobby. The woman at the front desk had already told her the mayor wasn't available. The deputy mayor wasn't taking calls. Emergency services needed proof before they'd even consider an evacuation order. She ended the call and walked straight to the waterfront instead. The kaiju had come ashore during the night, leaving a trail she could follow. She found what she needed two blocks from the industrial sector: a footprint driven so deep into the concrete that the street had buckled around it. Six toes, each one wider than her body. Cracks radiated outward like a spiderweb. She took photos from every angle, measured the depth with her arm sunk to the elbow, then sent the files to every city official whose contact she'd saved. Within an hour, her phone rang. The deputy mayor's voice was tight. They wanted confirmation. Sakura pulled out the crystal ball she'd been carrying in her bag since yesterday, the one that had shown her the kaiju's exact position for three years. Pink light swirled inside the glass, and there in the center was the silhouette she knew better than her own reflection. The thing was already past the waterfront, moving toward the commercial district. She held the crystal ball up to her phone's camera. The evacuation order went out twenty minutes later. Sakura wrapped the crystal ball back in its cloth and looked at the footprint one more time. She had maybe twelve hours before it reached the city center. Twelve hours to do what she'd failed to do for three years. But this time, she'd bought herself a clear battlefield.

Sakura stood at the edge of the industrial sector, watching the evacuation begin. Cars streamed toward the north exit, a slow-moving river of headlights. Families packed what they could carry. Emergency crews directed traffic at every intersection. She'd given them twelve hours, but the kaiju was moving faster than her projections. It would reach the bridge in six. She reached the bridge twenty minutes later. The structure was old, built thirty years ago when the city was half its current size. She walked the length of it, one hand trailing along the railing, until she found what she was looking for: a steel beam twisted upward from the support structure, warped and rust-stained, bent at an angle that made her ribs ache in sympathy. Someone had wrapped caution tape around it years ago, then forgotten about it. The metal had been compromised long before today. She pulled out her phone and called the evacuation coordinator. They needed to reroute everyone to the eastern routes immediately. The coordinator argued—the eastern routes would add two hours to the evacuation time. Sakura looked at the twisted beam again, imagining what would happen when the kaiju's weight hit this exact spot. She told him two hours was better than none. He hung up to make the calls. The bridge was empty now, the last of the evacuation vehicles already across. Sakura stayed, staring at the warped metal. She'd bought the city time by forcing the evacuation. Now she'd bought them a chance by clearing the bridge. But she'd also given herself exactly what she'd wanted for three years: a place where the kaiju had to come to her, where she could face it alone without anyone else in the way. Her hand moved to her left eye, the one that wasn't there anymore. She'd told herself she was protecting the city. Standing here, watching the empty bridge and knowing what was coming, she couldn't pretend that was the whole truth.

Sakura's phone buzzed against the bridge railing. The kaiju was surfacing early. Three miles out, not six. She had one window to plant something in its path before the bridge became the only option left. She ran for her car. The pink Ferrari wasn't hers. She'd taken it from an evacuated lot, keys still in the ignition, and she'd return it if she was alive to. The engine screamed as she cut through empty streets. Hikari's voice crackled through the earpiece, fast and breathless. "So basically I'm already at the ruin like you said, and honestly the barrier device is way heavier than it looks, but I've got it, I've got it, just—get here." Sakura skidded to a stop at the collapsed building Hikari had picked. The girl stood at the threshold, holding the shimmering pink barrier between both hands, her cape catching on broken stone. Sakura grabbed the device. "Anchor point. There." She wedged it into a gap between two warped supports, right at the mouth of the only path wide enough for the kaiju's body. She activated it. Pink light bloomed across the gap, humming. The ground shook. The kaiju came up through the asphalt two blocks away, faster than she'd ever seen it move. It hit the barrier at full weight. The shimmer held for one second. Two. Then it shattered, and the kaiju kept coming — but it veered. The collapsed building groaned and folded inward as the kaiju shouldered past it, away from the inland route. Toward the bridge. Exactly where Sakura needed it. She stood in the dust with Hikari pressed against her side, both of them breathing hard. The barrier was gone. The intercept had failed to stop it, but it had steered it. "Get to the eastern routes," Sakura said. Hikari opened her mouth. "Now." The girl ran. Sakura turned the Ferrari around. The bridge was the only option left now, for both of them.