The trench breathed.
Not a metaphor.
The water surface around it rose and fell slowly, rhythmically, like the chest of a giant hidden beneath the sea. Each "breath" increased the pressure inside Garuda Inferno's cockpit by one level.
Tomy didn't move.
Not because he was frozen—but because his instinct screamed: one wrong move, and you die.
The creatures on the surface remained still. Their backs lowered, the blue lights on their bodies completely extinguished. They were no longer aggressive.
They were… bowing.
"Command," Tomy's voice was heavy. "The primary target isn't them."
In the control center, several seconds passed without a reply. Then a voice came through, older, colder. Not the field commander.
"This is the Operations Council," it said. "Garuda Inferno pilot, confirm visual on the trench."
"Visual negative," Tomy answered. "But the pressure is real. And they're all oriented downward."
Silence again.
"Tomy," the voice continued. "We will open limited access."
A panel on the cockpit blinked. A screen that had been locked until now suddenly activated. Not a combat map. Not weapon data.
OLD ARCHIVES.
Written small in the corner: RED CLASSIFICATION — PRE-CONTACT.
"What is this?" Tomy mumbled.
"Data from before the Garuda Project existed," the Council answered. "Data that was never supposed to be used."
The screen displayed old sonar images. Years ago. The same Cenderawasih Bay—but the coastline was different. Wilder. More silent.
Then one point.
Extremely deep.
Extremely large.
"We used to think it was a geological anomaly," the voice said. "An active trench. Unstable tectonics."
Tomy swallowed.
"And now?"
"Now," the Council replied slowly, "we know it is not stone."
The trench before Garuda Inferno trembled more violently. The water began to spiral inward, not quickly—but inevitably. As if the sea itself was opening a door.
The creatures on the surface retreated, forming a half-circle. They were making space.
For something to ascend.
"AI," Tomy said quickly. "Survival options?"
A split-second delay.
"Survival probability: low," the AI answered honestly. "However… there is one protocol."
Another screen appeared.
Large red letters.
BLACK GARUDA PROTOCOL
STATUS: LOCKED
AUTHORIZATION: ACTIVE PILOT
Tomy felt his heart miss a beat.
The final protocol always has a price.
"Council," he said. "What is Black Garuda?"
An audible inhale came through the radio.
"A mode where Garuda Inferno ceases to be a defense," the voice answered.
"And becomes… a warning."
The trench rumbled.
From the depths, a different blue light began to rise—not pale like the others. Darker. Older.
Not a body's light.
An eye's light.
Tomy clenched his fists on the controls.
"If I activate this," he said quietly, "what happens?"
The answer came without hesitation.
"After that," the Council said,
"there is no way back."
Garuda Inferno stood at the lip of the trench.
The sea held its breath.
And beneath Cenderawasih Bay, something that had slept for thousands of years…
finally became aware
that humanity was looking at it.