Gone… all gone.

Cherno Alpha stepped back from the broken, bleeding body of Gorynych, blue ichor still dripping from his knuckles, his fists still tingling with energy. Deep claw marks had been gouged out of his legs and reactor tower, and his damage readout indicated his left arm had been brutally yanked out of its shoulder socket. He was low on power, and he practically shook with exhaustion and pain.

All that paled next to the terrible ache in his core, a pain no technician or mechanic could repair.

The Kaidonovskys finally tore his gaze away from Gorynych's body and directed it toward the wreckage of Vladivostok. The Shatterdome gaped open like a broken egg, as if it had just violently hatched and birthed the horrible Kaiju that now lay dead at his feet. The city of Vladivostok smoked and flared, buildings crushed to rubble, flames ignited by torn wiring burning hungrily through the ruins. Ash intermixed with the wind-driven snow that whipped at his chassis, and the iron-gray sky above seemed to mirror the gloom that hung over the ravaged city.

They had failed. They had killed Gorynych, but they had still failed. Somehow a single Kaiju had managed to destroy their home base... and the Jaegers had been powerless to stop it.

He turned to regard Nova Hyperion… or rather, what was left of her. The Korean Jaeger lay on her side on the snow-crusted beach, slightly curled up and her hands held close to her chest like a sleeping child. Smoke billowed from the ragged hole in her neck where her Conn Pod had been, and huge gaps had been ripped in her armor by Gorynych's barbed claws. Radioactive gel poured out of a deep wound in her torso like life's blood… but Cherno knew that trying to staunch the "bleeding" was useless now. Her Rangers were dead, and her with them.

Cherno limped toward her, his shredded legs screaming with every step, and sank to his knees by her side. When the Mark IV Jaeger had first come to Vladivostok, on loan from the Seoul Shatterdome, he had expected the same teasing about his age Eden Assassin had always subjected him to. And when her pilots, former Olympic hopefuls turned Rangers, had chosen to ignore the Kaidonovskys, he had expected similarly cold treatment from the newbuilt.

But despite her newness and advanced weaponry, Nova had none of the cocky demeanor of Eden. She had been reserved and shy, but had regarded Cherno with a quiet sort of awe. And just as he had often seen Aleksis pester and beg Ilya for more tales in his memories, Nova had eventually overcome her shyness and hesitantly asked to hear some of the older Jaeger's battle stories. Cherno had been reluctant at first, not wanting to risk forging the same sort of friendship with Nova that he'd had with Eden – and having it just as brutally ripped away – but in the end he had given in.

Nova hadn't replaced Eden – nothing would. But he had still enjoyed a close friendship with her, and felt almost protective of her, like a mentor figure. Her fighting style had been quite different from his, but she had still listened raptly to his tales and taken his advice regarding battling the Kaiju to her core. And with her around, he no longer felt so alone in the Jaeger bay when his Rangers were otherwise occupied.

But now she was gone, her core extinguished… and he was alone again.

He keened softly, heedless of the biting wind and the drone of the Jumphawks swooping in to collect Nova's remains. His comrades were gone. Eden Assassin had been felled by a lucky strike by Katschei three years ago… Warlock Defender had been dragged underwater and crushed by Krakenhead within weeks of his transfer to Vladivostok, here and gone so quickly Cherno had barely had time to get to know him… Nova Hyperion had been ripped apart in Gorynych's death throes…

And it wasn't enough that the Kaiju had taken another friend from him. Gorynych had ripped apart his home, tearing the Shatterdome apart before the Jaegers could stop it. Now the city they had been sworn to protect lay in ruins, and though they had destroyed the monster, their victory rang hollow in the freezing, smoke-laden air.

"Cherno…"

He shook and keened softly. He didn't want to be interrupted right now, not when he was still raw with grief.

"Cherno," Aleksis repeated, his tone firm but gentle. "We have to go. There is nothing more we can do."

He keened again, but obeyed his Rangers as they shifted his limbs, standing him up to loom over the bodies of the fallen Kaiju and Jaeger. Behind them, Vladivostok continued to burn, the Shatterdome's jagged wreck standing over the city like a tombstone to mark its destruction.

Beneath his grief and pain he could feel another, stranger emotion… apprehension. It came more from his Rangers than from himself, but he still understood. They had failed to defend their own Shatterdome from attack, and there were going to be consequences. The question was what would be done, and what would happen to them in the aftermath.

For the second day in a row, Aleksis found himself waking up in Cherno Alpha's hangar instead of in any sort of proper sleeping quarters. At least this time he didn't wake up still sitting on a supply crate – someone had the foresight to set up a sleeping pad for himself and Sasha in here. Every muscle in his body ached, however, and his head throbbed dully as if with a hangover. It felt as if he had run a marathon or fought a nasty Category IV Kaiju yesterday, though all he could remember was Cherno…

A dream. It had to be a dream. He lay there a moment, eyes shut, trying to savor the fantasy. The image of Cherno finally coming to full sentience, of being able to move on his own without their aid, was one he wanted burned into his memory, even if it was only a dream. It was far preferable to the alternative of their beloved Jaeger being hauled off for display in a museum…

Something nudged at his mind – a familiar presence he had given up as gone. His exhaustion forgotten, he rolled over and opened his eyes.

"Cherno!"

A pleased rumble of an engine was his answer. The Jaeger no longer lay slumped in a corner of his hangar, but sat cross-legged next to their sleeping pad. He still looked a mess – the hole in his reactor tower still gaped open, and tooth and claw marks from Otachi and Leatherback still riddled his chassis – but he seemed oblivious to his damages. At the moment he simply radiated delight at seeing one of his pilots awake.

Aleksis couldn't help a joyous laugh. It hadn't been a dream after all. Cherno Alpha was alive, and even outside the drift he was mobile and aware of his surroundings. It was his wildest dream come true.

Sasha shifted beside him, then sat up, never taking her eyes off the Jaeger. "You can see us still? And hear us?"

Cherno's entire body bobbed in a nod.

"Can you speak?" asked Aleksis.

A burst of puzzlement. I'm talking to you right now, Papa.

That title filled him with a rush of pleasure. "I meant aloud… like I am speaking to you."

Cherno didn't have a proper face, but he radiated an emotion that felt a lot like a concentrated grimace. His engine strained and whined, then belted out a belching roar that sounded more like a malfunction than speech.

"Don't hurt yourself!" Sasha urged.

Didn't hurt, he assured them. But I guess I can't speak like you. Not yet, anyhow. He raised his hands to show them. Look, they reattached my arm while you were offline. I'm getting better!

Aleksis laughed again. "Sasha, look at him. Who would have thought our Cherno would be so adorable?"

Sasha gave him a look of mock astonishment. "Aleksis, did you just say that word? Watch your language!"

He grinned. "Cherno Alpha is adorable. I said it again."

She lightly punched his shoulder, then burst out laughing. "You are right, though… he's cute. It's quite endearing to see him like this."

Cherno's presence in their minds bubbled with amusement. So me being like this is a good thing? Not terrible or frightening? I know all the Shatterdome crews were scared of me.

"Not terrible at all," Aleksis assured him. "They were simply frightened because they did not understand what was going on." He decided not to say the whole truth – that they had been terrified that he would step on someone or wreck the Shatterdome in his fright. No use making him feel bad about something he couldn't control.

You two were offline a really long time, Cherno went on, lowering his hands. I was worried! Gipsy's Ranger said you were just really tired and needed the rest, so I didn't try to wake you up, but still, I thought maybe you were malfunctioning somehow…

"Slow down, Cherno," Sasha advised, laughing softly. "We aren't malfunctioning. Still recovering from the Hong Kong battle, but we'll be all right. Yesterday's drift just exhausted us."

Cherno gave off a confused whine. Mama… the drift was two days ago.

She blinked. "Two days? Why did no one wake us?"

"You heard what he was told," Aleksis replied, resting a hand on her shoulder. "They probably decided the drift had taxed us enough that we needed the rest. Still… I can understand him being worried about us being asleep so long."

But you're awake now! Cherno said brightly. Things are gonna get better now, right? His entire chassis practically vibrated with excitement. Are we still gonna fight Kaiju?

"No, little one," Sasha told him. "The Breach is closed. The Kaiju are gone."

…oh. His excitement dimmed abruptly, like a light going out. If… if there are no more Kaiju… what do we do now?

For that, Aleksis had no answer.

"We will figure something out," Sasha promised, and rolled off the sleeping pad. "For now… Papa and I are going to go shower, eat, and get dressed. Will you be okay by yourself for an hour or so?"

Yes. I can talk to Crimson maybe. He seems lonely.

Aleksis had long ago stopped wondering how Jaegers managed to communicate between themselves. Cherno could communicate with his Rangers via the neural handshake, and the drift hangover allowed him to share thoughts and feelings with them, but as far as they knew he shouldn't have any sort of drift connection with other Jaegers. Perhaps it was some form of communication unique to Jaegers, a telepathy they enjoyed that other beings couldn't.

"Don't go too close to the other Jaeger," he warned. "Mustang Omega. They're going to be working with him today, and they won't want to be disturbed."

The feeling that pulsed through their minds could best be described as a scowl. Don't worry, I won't. I don't like him. He's creepy.

"Creepy?" Sasha frowned. "How so?"

It's like he's dead. Cherno gave a shudder that made his armor rattle. There's no wounds or damages, but when I try to talk to him, I get no answer. He feels… hollow. Empty.

That struck Aleksis as strange. Most of the time, when Cherno shared a Jaeger bay with another mecha, he had some observations regarding his fellow Jaeger or Jaegers and their personalities. He didn't always seem to befriend them, and Aleksis could sense that he still hurt over the destruction of Eden Assassin and Nova Hyperion, but the impression he always gathered during the neural handshake was that Cherno never saw them as mindless entities but as comrades in arms. He supposed that Mustang having no such presence was simply the result of him being so new, not even having had a drift with his Rangers yet, but still, it seemed odd…

Then he caught himself and smiled ruefully. Here the rest of the Shatterdome was marveling over a sentient Jaeger, and he was puzzling himself over why one would possess no sentience. Life was full of strangeness sometimes.

He pushed himself to his knees, then groped for his walker. He could have sworn he'd left it right beside the sleeping mat before collapsing for the night…

Cherno shifted, his hand hovering over his Rangers… and Aleksis caught the glint of silver metal in his fingers. He held Aleksis' walker between his thumb and forefinger, the device looking ridiculously small and flimsy in his grip.

Here, Papa.

"Thank you, Cherno." He reached up and took the walker, using it to haul himself to his feet. "Ready, Sasha?"

She nodded, and the two of them made their way out of the hangar, Sasha slowing her pace to let Aleksis keep up. He could feel Cherno's visual sensors on them the whole way as they left the hangar, and his anxious presence hung at the edge of their consciousness.

We will be back, he thought, trying to assure their Jaeger as best he could. Just hold on a little longer. We almost lost you once… we would never abandon you again.

"Ready in there?" Bailey called out.

"Are you kidding?" Lance replied. "I've been ready for this for months! Flip the switch already!"

"Don't get cocky, kid," Tendo replied, adjusting a few controls. "This isn't a simulation run; it's the real deal. We're gonna see how well the two of you drift in a real Jaeger, and see what adjustments Mustang needs to his motor systems."

"We know the difference between sim runs and real drifts," Lexie snapped. "Let's get this done already. No more delays."

Tendo pursed his lips as if he'd bitten into a lemon, but he decided it was best to ignore the snark. Starting a fight with a Ranger who was just about to engage in a neural handshake wasn't the smartest of ideas – if they carried that anger into the drift it could cause disruptions in the handshake or even lead to one pilot or another chasing the RABIT. They could deal with insubordination after the handshake was ended.

The LOCCENT was aglow with lights and displays, prepped and ready for Mustang Omega's first drift. The Mark VI Jaeger stood motionless before them, light gleaming in curves and bright points on its sleek black armor. Normally from his position in the LOCCENT Tendo could look into the Conn Pod and observe the pilots through its viewscreen, but not this time – the Conn Pod sat directly below the LOCCENT, its Rangers completely separated from the Jaeger.

This was the first drift of its kind… and it bothered Tendo on some level. He was used to being able to watch the Rangers as they drifted, and was often able to catch disruptions in the drift, seizures, or other critical issues before the sensors did. It felt weird not being able to do the same here. That, and some part of him nagged that Mustang looked incomplete without its cockpit in place.

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind and returned his attention to the readouts. No time to get himself stuck in a mental rut. Things were different now, but different didn't necessarily mean bad. It just meant they would have to adjust to a new set of rules from here on out.

"On my signal," he said at last. "Three…"

"Wait," Herc ordered.

Tendo raised an eyebrow. "For?"

Herc nodded out the LOCCENT window. "For that."

Tendo followed his gaze… and had to chuckle. Cherno Alpha was peering out of his hangar, watching the other Jaeger. The Mark I had no face to emote with, but his body language seemed to suggest he was fascinated with what was going on. He looked so much like a little kid trying to spy on something he thought was forbidden that it was hard not to be charmed by the sight.

"What's the holdup, sir?" asked Lance.

"We've got company," Tendo replied. "Cherno Alpha, if you can hear us, give us a signal."

Cherno jolted, surprised at being directly addressed. Then he tried to duck back into his hangar.

"We can see you out there," Tendo informed him. "You're eighty-five meters tall; you're not especially good at hiding."

The Jaeger peered out again, then tentatively raised a hand and waved. He seemed to hear them just fine… that was good, at least, even if communication was only one-way at this point.

"You can watch, but keep your distance," he ordered. "This is a delicate process, and we don't want Mustang or its pilots knocked out of the drift prematurely. It could cause serious problems."

Cherno bobbed his entire body in a nod and backed up a step, though he continued to stare.

"Are you done yet?" Lexie demanded.

"Be patient, Ms. Rossi," Tendo advised. "We just had to be sure Cherno wasn't going to interfere with the neural handshake. Proceeding as scheduled."

"That damn museum piece has delayed us enough," she grumbled. "Why couldn't it just go to Sydney and have everything be over and done with?"

"Shut it, Rossi," Herc snapped. "Focus on Mustang. Cherno ain't your business, but Mustang IS. Got it?"

She sighed dramatically but gave a reluctant "yes" in response. Herc scowled but took that as the best response he was going to get, stepping back.

"Initiating neural handshake in three… two… one…" Tendo braced himself and threw the switch.

Energy hummed about the LOCCENT, streaming through the massive cables connected to Mustang and the Conn Pod. Over the radio he could hear Lance and Lexie gasp as they felt the first stirrings of the mental connection… the meeting of minds that made up the neural handshake.

"Let it happen," Herc coached. "Don't latch onto any memories – just let 'em flow. Not your own, not your co-pilot's, nothin'…"

"We… got… this," Lexie insisted, voice taut.

Herc snorted. "Someone needs to learn some respect for her elders," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth in Tendo's direction.

"Left hemisphere online," Bailey reported. "Right hemisphere online. Sir, we have a handshake!"

A smattering of applause was her response. Tendo noted that no one seemed quite as thrilled about a new pair of Rangers making a connection as they had shown in the past. Had the war taken that much toll on them that a new Ranger team no longer seemed significant? He doubted it – just a few months ago everyone had been ecstatic about the new Gipsy Danger team, at least until Mako had chased the RABIT and almost wrecked the LOCCENT. Either people were already fed up with the Rossis' antics, or Cherno's sudden sentience had stolen some of the Mustang Omega team's thunder. Perhaps some of both.

"Time for some basic movement tests," Tendo announced. "Raise Mustang's right arm."

The new Jaeger quivered to life, and with deliberate slowness its right arm lifted. The movement was clumsy at first, jerky like an old movie robot.

"Don't fight each other," Herc ordered. "You're workin' together on this."

"Yessir," Lance replied. "What next?"

"Lower it – slowly! Now raise the left arm…"

Limb by limb they put Mustang through its paces, testing every joint and servo, getting the Rangers comfortable with moving the mecha in various ways. Gradually Mustang's movements became smoother and more graceful as the Rossis got the hang of it, and soon they settled into a natural pattern of movement. Tendo noted with satisfaction that Mustang showed more flexibility than Jaegers of the past – it would be a faster, more agile machine, able to move more swiftly to combat the Kaiju and dodge their attacks.

Already, Tendo noted, the Rossis were starting to settle into a signature style. Every Jaeger had a particular way they moved and fought, evoking different disciplines of hand-to-hand combat according to their Rangers' personal tastes and their own innate battle programming. Gipsy Danger's style had mimicked a street fighter, Striker Eureka's a no-holds-barred boxer. Crimson Typhoon's movements brought to mind a martial artist; Cherno Alpha had favored a style similar to Greco-Roman wrestling. Mustang's own style wouldn't be completely evident until it finally saw combat, but in this early testing stage its style most closely resembled a fencer or swordsman. It moved with a powerful grace, incorporating elaborate flourishes into its moves as its Rangers grew more comfortable with handling it.

Briefly Tendo took his eyes off Mustang to check on Cherno. He had to stifle a laugh – the Mark I was still watching raptly, and even had his arms up and was trying to mimic some of Mustang's moves. He was slower and less flexible, though, and his movements were sloppier and clumsier. Not necessarily a bad thing, Tendo thought – Cherno was simply built differently, his advantages lying in power and brute force rather than agility.

"Looks like a remote control drift functions just fine," Bailey noted with a smile. "Just as good as a drift from inside the Jaeger."

"The true test will be when we get it out on the battlefield," Tendo told her. "But this is a promising start."

"A'right, we're done for now," Herc said at last. "Let's get you two out of there…"

"Wait, I want to try one more thing," Lance replied. "Mustang's got hand-to-hand weapons, right?"

"Mr. Rossi, leave the weapons systems alone!" Herc barked. "That's a direct order-"

The command came too late. Mustang raised its arms, and a curved titanium blade extended from each forearm. The blades gleamed in the light of the LOCCENT, beautiful and deadly.

"That is so cool!" Lance gushed.

"Put those away now!" Tendo barked. "We're NOT testing the weapons systems today!'

"I gotta try this," Lance insisted, and Mustang gave a test swipe with the right arm. The slash narrowly missed a catwalk, sending personnel scattering in a panic.

"Lance!" Bailey shrieked. "Put it away, you're gonna kill someone!"

"We're not gonna wreck the Shatterdome, geez," Lexie huffed. "We're not klutzes. Unlike someone we can mention…" But Mustang lowered its arms anyhow, the blades sliding back into their protective sheaths. It straightened up, shoulders squared back like a soldier standing at attention, then went still.

"Shut the handshake down," Herc snapped. "Get 'em out of there. Then get 'em to my office right now for a dressin'-down. Dumb kids are gonna get us all killed…"

Tendo blew out a sigh. Why did it seem as if every young hotshot that took a Conn Pod for the first time had to have some sort of issue? Raleigh and Yancy had let a spat with an ex-girlfriend break up their handshake, Mako had gotten trapped in a bad memory, and now the Rossis were choosing to flout authority and treat their Jaeger like a toy. In a way, that disrespect was worse than an issue with the drift. They had drifted well, true, but if they were going to act like this every time they controlled Mustang, then maybe it was time to find other pilots.

He moved his gaze to Cherno again. The Jaeger was crouched as if about to start running, both hands up in a wrestling move, but as Mustang went still he relaxed, lowering his arms. As if sensing Tendo was watching he gave a little wave, then turned to go back into his hangar.

He was ready to intervene should Mustang go out of control, Tendo realized. That would have been something – a Jaeger vs. Jaeger wrestling match. Though I have to admit, having someone around who could grapple a rogue Jaeger would have been useful during that fiasco of a drift with Gipsy…

He caught hold of that thought, mulling over it. Then he pulled out a tablet and made a quick note. The Wei Tangs would be here sometime in the next few days for the attempted drift with Crimson, and while they had originally planned for Cherno to be absent at the time, perhaps it would be far more useful to have him on hand. Cherno's "awakening" had been violent and nearly uncontrollable, and if Crimson did come to full sentience in their care, it would be better for everyone involved if someone could keep him under control.

For now, though, they would focus on the two Jaegers they had. They would continue to test and train Mustang and its Rangers… and Mako would continue to repair and study Cherno, and figure out the extent of his intelligence and abilities. They were in uncharted territory on both counts, and only time would tell how either situation would pan out.

"Oy! What are you doing in there? Get out of there!"

Spike poked his head out of the mess of shredded aluminum foil that made up his nest, hissing.

"Not you, boy," Newt assured the skin mite, patting his head. "I'm talking about the hairball."

Spike chirred and burrowed back into the foil. Newt reached into the nest and pulled out a squirming, whining ball of fur, checking it over to make sure it hadn't cut itself in Spike's nesting material or gotten itself bitten. Then he raised it up to eye level and looked it square in the eye.

"And everyone complains about MY pet getting into things he shouldn't," he grumbled. "At least I've got him housetrained. You, on the other hand, are a whole different story."

The bulldog pup whined and stretched forward to lick his nose.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you like me." He tucked the pup under one arm and went back to his workbench. "Well, I guess you can stay here until Herc comes looking for you."

The pup seemed perfectly content with that arrangement, and it settled itself in the crook of his arm as he went back to reading the newspaper. Said pup was a gift from the city of Sydney to Hercules, a sort of combined thank-you and condolence gift for the Hansen's contributions to ending the Kaiju War once and for all. At first Herc had grumbled about the puppy, complaining that being saddled with another dog was "some thanks" for saving the world, but Newt knew for a fact that the elder Hansen often carried the pup around in his jacket, tucked just out of sight so no one else would see it. The only reason he knew about the pup was because Spike seemed to take a liking to it too, and went nuts whenever he smelled it around.

Newt wasn't a psychologist, but he was pretty sure that Herc had taken well to the dog in an effort to fill the void left by Chuck's death. A puppy wouldn't replace his son, of course, but it could provide distraction and companionship during the grieving process. And it even seemed to lift Max out of his funk – the poor dog missed Chuck too, and sorely needed a friend.

Hermann shuffled into the lab at that moment, red-eyed and rumpled. Newt glanced up and grinned at him.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!"

"Bugger off," Hermann retorted, thumping down into a chair. "Does Marshal Hansen know you have Bruno?"

"Probably not," Newt admitted. "I just found him hanging out with Spike. Figure he can keep me company until Herc misses him. Bruno... what kinda name is that for a dog?"

"Says the Kaiju groupie who named a parasite Spike."

"Hey, hush, it's a perfectly good name for an alien skin mite." He flipped another page in the paper he was reading. "Haha, check this out. Some island in the Pacific actually worships the Jaegers as gods. Nice turnaround from the Kaiju cultists, huh?"

"Are you reading the tabloids again?" Hermann demanded.

"So what if I am? They're hilarious! And who knows, they might be true! Like the Men in Black movies!"

"They're sensationalist garbage, fit only for mulching one's garden," Hermann retorted. "Perhaps not even that – they might poison the plants."

"They're a lot more entertaining than your science journals, that's for sure," Newt fired back. "Look, it says they've got Jaeger parts somehow and are stashing them in a temple of some kind. You know, it's kind of funny how a tribal culture chooses to worship the Jaegers, while more developed cultures worship the Kaiju instead. I'm sure there's some kind of philosophical statement there…"

"You are impossible." Hermann reached up and rubbed at his eyes, groaning. "If you actually believe that load of Kaiju manure, you're madder than I thought."

"Hey… are you okay?" He looked up from the article. "You don't look so good."

"Astute observation, Newton. No, I'm not okay. Insomnia generally isn't a sign of good health."

Newt winced. "Yikes… talked to the medical center about that? They got pills for that kinda thing."

"The pills don't help the nightmares," Hermann complained.

"Aw man, you too? I've been having nightmares for the past week!" He set Bruno down on the floor and went to find the spray bottle – it was time for Spike's ammonia bath. "Figures that even with the war over, the Kaiju are still messing with our heads, huh?"

"If it was simply Kaiju I might be fine with it," Hermann huffed. "But it's memories of the Precursors that seem to be haunting me. That glimpse of the Anteverse… except my subconscious seems to be twisting it around to suit its own whimsy."

"Yeah, it's messed up what our minds'll do with the input we give them, huh?" Newt pushed some of the foil aside and gave Spike a good spritzing. "I didn't get the best look at the Anteverse and still my brain's coming up with these funky images. Like giant ships that look like they're made out of huge shells."

Hermann's head jerked up. "Shells?"

"Yeah, but not like seashells… more like giant turtle shells. Funky, huh?" He shot his fellow scientist a grin.

The sleepiness left Hermann's eyes, and he stared intently at Newt. "An armada of shell-ships… most small, but the largest vast? Big enough to possibly hold at least a dozen Kaiju?"

Newt's smile vanished. "Yeah…"

"Coming through a Breach?" Hermann pressed.

"Yeah, but not THE Breach… like a new Breach… and they parked themselves on the ocean floor…"

"And planted some sort of roots into the sea bed. Like mobile buildings…"

"And the little Precursor guys start flooding out in their little protective suits… organic suits like the aliens in Independence Day…"

"And started building… something. The question is what."

The two scientists exchanged a long, meaningful look. Then Newt tossed the ammonia bottle onto the table, Hermann pushed himself to his feet, and the two hurried out of the lab as quickly as possible to notify Tendo. The Anteverse wasn't done with their world after all.