Scunner's head had just dropped down to its chest, its good eye sliding shut as it dozed off, when a Jaeger hobbled over the rise. The kaiju's eye flew open, and it raised its head with a guttural howl. The other kaiju echoed the cry, and Scunner pushed itself to its feet and loped after the wounded mecha. Its right arm terminated in a ragged stump, and it limped badly as it turned to flee before the Category 4. If Scunner's brain were complex enough to allow it to think beyond basic pre-programmed instincts, it might have smugly told itself easy pickings.

It crested the rise and moved to leap at Gipsy… only for a bladed arm to catch it in the gut. Scunner's mortal scream was cut off by a second blade to the throat, and Brawler sliced its neck while Striker opened the monster from chest to groin with a brutal slash of his arm.

Two down, Brawler noted with relief. That takes care of Scunner and Razorback, eh? Thanks, Gipsy.

I can actually fight, you know, she protested, her limp vanishing as she moved to stand beside Coyote. I might be down an arm, but I'm not helpless.

I ain't gonna see you hurt worse, Gip, Striker retorted.

Cherno grabbed Scunner by one arm and helped Brawler drag its carcass to the side, dropping it beside Razorback's inert form. Down to four kaiju and an enemy Jaeger… that evened the odds somewhat. Though that didn't change the fact that they were all injured, weak, and nearing the end of their reserves. If Mustang didn't get here soon, they would have to flee… if they could get away before Armada or the twisted organic Jaeger attacked. And given what Tendo had told them about the Jaeger's weaponry, he wasn't sure any of them could win against it in a one-on-one battle.

He brushed his hand on his leg, unconsciously trying to rid himself of the kaiju's taint, before returning to Crimson's side. The red Jaeger's Rangers had finally given up the fight a few hours ago, when the Conn Pod had filled almost entirely with seawater and threatened to drown them. Their escape pods were on their way to the surface; with any luck, the same helicopters bringing Mustang would be able to rescue the Weis.

Please wake up, Cherno thought, shaking his friend by the shoulder. We need you… you're the smartest of us, the one who knows the most about the kaiju and how to fight them. We could really use you.

Let him be, Coyote ordered. He will awaken in due course. For now, we have bigger problems.

It's been ten hours, Brawler pointed out. Mustang's not here yet, but we should act now before our Rangers run out of oxygen.

Or go with the original plan of ejecting them, Coyote replied. It's for the best.

What about the Kaidonovskys? Gipsy asked. They don't have escape pods!

They stay, then, Coyote conceded, but the others should be sent back to the surface at once.

"Can you not talk about us like we ain't here?" Chuck demanded. "Don't we get a say in this?"

Coyote turned to face Striker, engines growling softly. Not if what you have to say is suicidal.

"Says the Jaeger that was volunteerin' for a kamikaze mission earlier," Chuck pointed out. "We're stayin'. That's final."

Chuck… Striker said warningly.

"Enough," Aleksis ordered. "We have had this argument. And the Jaegers have lost it already. Let us not waste more time or breath with it."

"I agree," Raleigh replied. "We don't have much time left. I say we go out and take the rest of the kaiju down, and get Coyote and that bomb to the Breach."

Got any plans besides "run out there, drop the bomb, an' run out?" asked Brawler in a tone of amusement.

"Not really," Raleigh confessed, "but let's face it, that's the only plan we had coming in here. We just didn't expect them to have quite so many guard dogs."

"Then we change plans to accommodate," Herc replied. "We still got three smaller kaiju an' Armada to deal with, not t' mention the blasted Precursor Jaeger. There's five Jaegers still standin'. I say Coyote's first priority is the Breach, an' she needs an escort of at least one other Jaeger. That leaves three of us to handle the guards."

I'll take the Precursor Jaeger, Striker volunteered.

Are you going to hog all the good ones? Gipsy demanded. I'll take it.

Are you outta your bloody processor, girl? Your bleedin' arm's off!

I was in worse shape than this when I took on Slattern!

This is different!

For Lightcap's sake, stop treating me like I'm going to break! Just because I'm a girl…

"Both of you hush!" Caitlin ordered. "And stop using my name as a curse word-"

A booming roar cut off anything else the scientist had to say, and Cherno felt his core turn to ice as a sleek horned form crested the rise. Sparks danced and arced between the prongs of Staghead's antlers, and its jaws gaped open in a maniacal-looking grin as it stepped closer. From the other side came Knifehead, bright blue ichor streaming in ribbons from an ugly tear in its side but seeming oblivious to its own damages. And just behind Knifehead loomed the hideous bulk of Mutavore, letting out another thunderous bellow.

Oh hell, Striker growled. No more time to plan.

"Cherno, Coyote, grab a dead kaiju an' get to the dome!" Herc shouted. "Brawler, take Staghead! Gipsy, take Knifehead! Striker, take Mutavore! An' for god's sake, steer clear of that Precursor Jaeger!"

What about Armada? Cherno asked.

"Just go!" Herc roared. "Striker, go nuts!"

With pleasure, Pops, Striker rumbled, and with a metallic roar he charged Mutavore. Gipsy raised her arm, sword sliding out, but rather than letting the links lock into place she swung it like a whip at Knifehead's face. The kaiju staggered back, screaming, as a fresh wound opened across one eye… then doubled over with a dull whuff as her knee caught it in the chest.

Cherno, quit gawping! Coyote snapped. Grab a corpse and let's go!

Yes, Coyote. Cherno stooped to grab one of Scunner's arms. Coyote bent to take the other, and together the two Mark Is dragged their unlikely cargo over the rise and toward the waiting dome.

It had been nearly six years since she'd faced down the first Knifehead… six years since it had taken Yancy from her side. After all that time she had never forgotten that nightmare of a face, the horrible shark-like mouth or the saber-shaped snout or the stupid but vicious eyes that gleamed with a terrible hunger for destruction. And even as she had languished in Oblivion Bay, even as she had hung in the Anteverse as the Precursor's specimen, she had vowed revenge. Nothing could heal the ache of losing Yancy, but every kaiju she destroyed helped ease the sting.

Now it was time for the ultimate payback. Knifehead 2.0 would pay for its predecessor's crimes in blood.

"Ready, girl?" Raleigh asked.

I've been ready since Anchorage, she replied, and with a flick of her wrist the chain sword solidified into a blade.

"Be careful," Mako urged. "No more family dies tonight."

Gipsy nodded, and she braced her legs, foot spikes digging into the ocean floor. Knifehead, likewise, buried its claws into the sand, head lowered and swaying from side to side. Mecha and monster held their stances, blades raised, each waiting for the other to make a move.

Despite the chaos of the earlier battle, Gipsy felt nothing but calm. She had been built for this… and even damaged and hurting, she would fulfill her mission to protect humanity. And somehow, carrying her Rangers within her, she felt as if nothing could destroy her, as if Raleigh and Mako were a living talisman against the scourge of the kaiju.

Knifehead broke the deadlock with an almighty scream, kicking up clouds of sand as it charged. Gipsy held her ground, arm down and blade lowered. Every instinct screamed to meet the charge, but her Rangers held her back, urging her down. And though it nearly killed her to do so, she complied. She trusted them… they had never let her down…

"Wait for it," Raleigh murmured. "Wait for it… NOW!"

Knifehead was nearly on top of her when she threw all her weight into a single powerful swing, burying her sword into the monster's chest. It screeched in agony, thrashing and clawing at her armor in its death throes, but she made no move to pull away. She only thrust the blade in harder, feeling it pierce flesh and bone until her hand vanished into the great rent in its hide, as if she were trying to rip its heart out with her bare hands.

For Yancy! she snarled.

"For Yancy!" Raleigh crowed.

Mako laughed softly. "For Yancy…"

Pain erupted in her shoulder as, in that fraction of an instant letting her guard down, Knifehead clamped its jaws into her armor. With a brutal twist of its jaws the limb ripped off, and she staggered backwards, agony screaming through the drift, fluids streaking the water from the mangled joint. She was falling… helpless… Knifehead was still alive, and would finish her and her Rangers off for good…

Hands gripped her sides, steadying her.

Easy does it, girl, Striker urged, easing her to her feet again. Lemmie give you a hand here. Looks like you need one.

Oh, ha, ha, she huffed. Not funny. Mako, Raleigh, you okay?

"We… we are fine," Mako replied, voice shaky with Gipsy's pain. "Knifehead…"

Gipsy twisted her Conn Pod to get a better look at Knifehead. That lunge had been his last act – now the kaiju lay on the sea floor, twitching in its death throes, most of Gipsy's arm still jutting from its chest. Despite her pain and sudden exhaustion, she felt a surge of triumph at the sight.

Mutavore… what about Mutavore?

Already took care of 'im, Striker replied, nodding at the kaiju that lay flailing in the remains of a dome nearby, spewing ichor in a cyan cloud from a deep gash in its throat. But we got bigger problems now.

Bigger… Her gaze drifted up at the looming form of Armada. It glowered down at Cherno and Coyote, snapping at them every time they ventured close, lips curled back over fangs the size of houses.

We have to help them, Gipsy said firmly. Armada's not going to let them get inside unless we distract it!

How? Striker demanded. I ain't got missiles, your cannons're outta juice… what're we supposed to do, dress up in clown suits an' sing an' dance for it?

There's got to be a way! Her gaze flickered around the battlefield, taking in the wrangling forms of Brawler and Staghead not far away, the body of Mutavore that had finally gone still, the inert carcass of Knifehead with her arm still buried in its chest…

A wild idea blinked to life in the drift – whether her own or one of her Rangers, she didn't know and quite frankly didn't care. Raleigh, my elbow rockets…

"Still online for your arm," Raleigh replied. "Dunno if they'll still work if they're disconnected, but…"

Mako touched a control, and Gipsy felt something inside her leap with excitement as the rockets activated in a flare of blue-white. Striker, grab my arm!

Gip, there's not time to put you back together…

Just grab it! It's our best bet!

Striker just stared at her a moment. Then he bent down and yanked the arm out of Knifehead's chest. You better be right 'bout this, girl…

Staghead gave an undignified, but still thunderous, squawk of pain as Brawler's fist slammed into its jaw. It staggered backwards, shaking its head, its antlers spitting erratic blue sparks with each thrash. Brawler just made a show of cracking his knuckles and jerked his head back, taunting the kaiju, daring it to try again.

"Careful," Caitlin urged.

I'm always careful, he replied.

"Don't let it hit you," she advised. "Even an analog Jaeger can be affected by an EMP hit."

Why do you think I keep hitting the hoser? Brawler shot back. Keep him busy, keep him too distracted to power up, eh? Don't fret so much over me, I'll be fine.

I just don't want to lose you again, she thought, but didn't voice it aloud. She had just been reunited with the mecha she'd come to see as a son… and she had already lost Sergio for good. She didn't think she could bear to lose Brawler again.

We ain't gonna lose YOU either, Brawler told her. He paused long enough to deliver a solid THWACK to Staghead's chest. Not when you've still got that project you're workin' on.

"We can talk about it later," she told him. "Just focus on the fight, okay?"

For sure. He lashed out again, slashing a long wound into Staghead's side. Caitlin guided his motions subtly – not taking over, just providing subtle backup for each attack, miming his actions as if she could lend him her own strength. Perhaps Brawler didn't really need her in this battle except as a morale boost, but somehow the warrior inside her had never really gone away.

BOO-YAH! The drift sang with Brawler's victory whoop as Staghead finally sank to its knees, dazed and bleeding from a multitude of deep cuts. It barely did more than toss its head in resistance when he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around its neck, giving a savage twist to break its neck.

"We did it!" Caitlin shouted, and gave a triumphant cry of her own.

What's this "we" business, eh? Brawler laughed. Now let's go help the oth-

A jolt of pain at the base of her spine cut him off. Alarms blared throughout the Conn Pod in response.

WARNING: HULL BREACH. WARNING: MASSIVE INTERNAL SYSTEM FAILURE. WARNING: MASSIVE STRUCTURAL FAILURE.

"BRAWLER!"

C-Caitlin… His voice shook with pain… the pain of ivory arm spikes buried in his spinal strut. The Precursor Jaeger wrapped a pearlescent white arm around the Mark I as it jerked the spikes free, then stabbed again. Twice more it struck, then released Brawler and stepped back as if to admire its handiwork.

"No!" Caitlin thrashed in her harness, struggling to break free, to do something to help Brawler. "Brawler… stay awake… stay with me…"

Brawler staggered, then slumped to his knees. A cloud of rust flakes enveloped the Conn Pod, obscuring their vision. He was quite literally crumbling apart, whatever chemical or bacteria strain the Precursors had infused into their Jaeger's weaponry causing him to corrode at a frightening rate. Even now his legs were numb, and the numbness spread up his torso as the corrosion ate away his plating, infected his internal systems…

Mother… Caitlin…

"Stay with me, Brawler."

You gotta go, Mother.

"No! I'm staying with you!"

The plan, though… remember the plan…

"Brawler!" Her vision blurred with tears, reducing the world around her to a smear of red rust and yellow warning lights.

You gotta go. For the plan. And don't forget… don't forget the most important part, eh?

She wanted nothing more than to stay with Brawler to the very end, to keep him company even as his body disintegrated. But she knew he was right. Her project, her dream of ensuring the Jaegers had a home of their own after the war finally ended… it could not go on without her. Brawler knew that, and he was fully prepared to let her go, even if it meant dying alone.

Or perhaps not truly dying… not if this succeeded…

She tore herself free of the harness and stumbled across the Conn Pod, wiping her eyes furiously. With shaking hands she ripped open the computer console, digging through wires and circuit boards until her hands finally closed around a brick of black plastic the size of a shoebox. She took a deep breath… and yanked it free of its cords.

Brawler's presence in the drift sputtered, and for a terrifying moment she wondered if she'd committed a fatal error. But he was still there, still in the back of her mind… faint but present.

"Dr. Lightcap, get out of there!" Tendo's voice finally reached her over the comm. "Get out of there NOW! You have seconds before the Conn Pod's compromised!"

She didn't trust herself to speak. She only nodded and stepped back to the harness, touching the control that would take her into Brawler's escape pod.

If there's still a god out there… PLEASE let this work.

Cherno wanted to scream. No, not just scream – he wanted to curl up and howl until he'd purged what he'd just seen from his memory banks. It was one thing to know on an intellectual level that the Precursor Jaeger was armed with some kind of rust weapon… and quite another to watch a comrade literally crumble to dust before your very optical sensors.

Brawler!

"Brawler!" Herc shouted. "Dr. Lightcap!"

"I'm… I'm okay." Dr. Lightcap's voice was thick with unshed tears. "In the escape pod… see you at the surface…" Her voice trailed off.

The escape pod burst from the top of Brawler's Conn Pod, streaking toward the surface… and moments later the cockpit itself came apart, the metal disintegrating into rusted shards and the glass falling away to smash on the rocks below. All that remained of the first Jaeger was a rapidly crumbling skeleton that toppled slowly to the ocean floor, where it shattered in a cloud of red dust.

Brawler… oh Brawler… no… This just kept happening. How many times would he have to watch his friends fall in battle? How many Jaegers would die at the fangs and claws of the Precursors before they finally left this world alone?

The Precursor Jaeger twitched its arm, like a warrior shaking blood from his sword, before turning to face Striker. The Mark V practically shook with rage, and he stepped to the side to put himself between the organic mecha and Gipsy. The message was clear – there were no more easy targets. If it wanted another victim, it would have to get through Striker first.

Cherno would have stepped forward to aid him… but Coyote's arm clamped around his shoulder.

Leave them, she ordered.

That thing killed Brawler Yukon! Cherno protested. We have to stop it!

You have another mission, Coyote said firmly. Let Striker fight the Jaeger. Don't kill yourself on a fool's errand.

So you'll just have Striker kill himself? Cherno seethed with anger as he glared at his fellow Mark I. Coyote, I can't let another friend die! Not today!

"Little one, she's right," Sasha told him, and though he could feel her own shock and grief at the loss of another Jaeger, there was a warmth to her voice that cut through his anger. "We have a task before us. Right now it is more important to close the Breach."

But Mama…

"Trust us," Aleksis murmured. "You've trusted us this far, Cherno. Trust us a little longer."

He gave a despairing whine as he watched Striker and the Precursor Jaeger sizing each other up. He trusted them… trusted them like he trusted no other living creature. And yet could he really turn his back on his own kind, even if it was to seal the Breach and save the world?

A faint presence tickled the back of his mind, one that grew stronger with each passing second. Without thinking he let his gaze dart upward, toward a black speck that he first took to be Dr. Lightcap's escape pod. But no, this was too big, and getting bigger by the second…

The presence flared brightly in the minds of every Jaeger and Ranger present, until it became a single wild cry that rang through the drift with the brilliance of a sun.

MUSTANG OMEGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

What the bloody buggerin' hell… began Striker.

The Precursor Jaeger whirled about as a sleek black-and-red form hit the ocean floor behind it, landing in a squat before rising to tower over the wreckage of the battlefield. Mustang Omega… but this wasn't the hollow, unsettlingly empty Jaeger that had haunted the Shatterdome for months. This was a living Jaeger, thrumming with life and practically radiating joy at simply being alive and mobile.

If Cherno had possessed a jaw, it would have been hanging down to his chest. How…

Mustang? Gipsy ventured, peering out from behind Striker.

It – no, he – bobbed his entire body in a nod. Mustang!

It's alive, Coyote marveled. And here I thought it was a hopeless cause…

"Holy hell, how did they manage this?" Herc murmured.

"I don't know, but I am glad to see him right now!" Mako replied. "We need all the help we can get!"

Mustang! he repeated, raising both hands to wave at the other Jaegers.

"Good god, he's soft in the head," Chuck groaned. "How'd we get a special Jaeger?"

"Hey, watch it, I think he's coming along pretty nicely for being ten hours old."

For the first time in Cherno's memory he heard Sasha sputter in surprise. "Dr. Geizler?"

"Hermann Gottlieb and Newton Geizler," Hermann replied. "Rangers for Mustang Omega. I know, it's a bit of a shock… frankly I'm just as surprised as you are…"

"Talk later!" Herc snapped. "We've got other things to worry 'bout now!"

Mustang lowered his arms as the Precursor Jaeger stalked toward him, its pilots overcoming their shock at the sudden arrival of another Jaeger. The Mark VI stepped back… and twin crescents of polished titanium slid from its forearms.

"We'll handle this," Newt assured them. "You guys do what you gotta do, all right?"

"Be careful!" Raleigh ordered. "It's got some kind of rust-based weapon…"

"We know," Hermann replied. "We have seen it… never mind, it's too complicated to explain. But we will at least keep it distracted for you."

"We got this!" Newt insisted. "Right, Mustang?"

Mustang!

"Atta boy, Mustang! Let's kick its ass!"

Mustang! Kick ass! And with the mental equivalent of a childish giggle Mustang lunged forward, burying a blade into the Precursor Jaeger's midsection. Green-blue fluids spilled out to cloud the water, and the organic mecha staggered backwards, arms flailing.

Coyote squeezed Cherno's shoulder and shook him. Enough gawking! Let's go!

Yes, Coyote. He turned back to the dome… and backpedaled as Armada's jaws clashed shut a few meters over his reactor tower. Argh!

"This bastard," Aleksis growled. "How to get past it…"

Armada drew its neck back for another snap… then its eyes flickered to the side. Gipsy and Striker were running full-tilt toward the dome, drawing its attention for just a moment…

Just long enough for Cherno to slam a fist into the dome, cracking the hard shell enough for Coyote to pry it open and let them inside.

This has got to be one of the dumber ideas any Ranger or Jaeger's ever had, Striker grumbled.

Do you have any better ones? asked Gipsy.

Yeah, like make sure Mustang doesn't get rust-shanked!

Gipsy turned toward the Mark VI, who was practically dancing in circles around the Precursor Jaeger like a lightweight boxer taunting a heavier opponent. Time and again the organic mecha would lash out at Mustang, and time and again he would dodge with an effortless jump or twist. Ichor hazed the waters around the two of them as Mustang stabbed and sliced at his opponent, all the while happily belting out his name and a multitude of curse words culled from his Rangers.

He's fine, Gipsy assured him. Let him have some fun, I guess.

Armada's moment of distraction had let Cherno and Coyote vanish into the dome, but the kaiju seemed to sense it had been had. It began to tear and claw at the dome, great chunks of shell coming away in its claws. The last few parasites rose from its back and flapped about in agitation, and for a strange and delirious moment Striker was reminded of those birds that flapped around a character after a blow to the head in human cartoons.

"If we're gonna do this, now's the time!" Raleigh shouted. "Striker, aim carefully!"

"Since when were you his boss?" Chuck demanded.

"Since never, but he's got to be careful!" Raleigh retorted. "We've only got one shot! We have to make it count!"

This'll be the first an' last time I take orders from ya, Yank, Striker replied, and he raised Gipsy's arm to his Conn Pod, taking careful aim at Armada. Cutting the throat sac had weakened it, but not enough… as far as he could see, there was only one spot where they could guarantee taking the ugly bastard out.

Ready, Gip?

Ready. And Striker?

What?

Gipsy leaned in close and bumped her Conn Pod lightly against his. For luck.

Striker sputtered, then turned to glare at her. You tryin' to spoil my aim or what?

"Stop gabbing, you lovebirds, and fire the damn elbow rockets!" Herc bellowed.

All right, all right, Jesus… He took a moment to correct his aim. Gip, NOW!

The arm lurched in his hands, like an animal trying to escape its master's grip, and he gave it a throw to aid it along. The unlikely projectile streaked away, the blade still jutting from the arm slicing through the water and the flames from the rockets embedded in the elbow leaving a trail of boiling froth in its wake.

Armada was so absorbed in trying to tear its way into the dome to stop Cherno and Coyote that it didn't spot the oncoming missile until it was too late. Its ululating shriek of agony shook the water as Gipsy's chain sword buried itself in its eye.

A name like "the Breach" didn't properly convey the weirdness of the rift between their world and the Anteverse, Aleksis decided. It wasn't at all like a proper gate or even a natural hole between universes – it was more like a wound in the fabric of space, its ragged edges bleeding the molten stuff of reality itself, eldritch energy flickering in its depths. Even as he watched its edges seemed to be drawing itself together, trying to heal itself, but a burst of energy would boil up and tear it wider.

Coyote snorted. Unnatural.

"We know what to do this time, at least," Sasha pointed out. "Coyote, the charge."

Coyote nodded, and she reached back to detach the canister containing the nuclear weapon from her back. Ready, Cherno?

Ready. Mama, Papa, don't look… this is going to be messy.

Despite the situation, Aleksis had to choke back a laugh. "We're not squeamish. But thank you for thinking of us."

Coyote set the canister down, then gripped the edges of the gaping wound in Scunner's torso and ripped it wider. Once she was satisfied with the damage, she wedged the canister into the massive ribcage. She spared no delicacy on the dead monster but crammed it in, and with a burst of irrational amusement Alexis imagined he could hear Hannibal back in the LOCCENT railing about how she was destroying valuable organs. Though considering the entire kaiju was going to be obliterated in a matter of minutes…

The dome shuddered around them, and cracks jagged across its ceiling. Coyote snarled and jammed the canister in deeper.

Tell them to hold it off longer!

Too late! Cherno backed up a pace as talons ripped through the ceiling. Coyote, hurry!

"Stay calm, Cherno!" Aleksis urged. "But be ready to fight… just in case."

He pulsed back assent, but continued to watch the ceiling.

Charge is activated, she announced at last, and she dragged the carcass toward the blazing rift. Help me!

Cherno grabbed one of Scunner's legs, hauling the dead creature to the edge of the rift. Above them, more chunks of shell fell away, and silt clouded the water as Armada tore its way through. Aleksis strained at the harness, trying to lend his own strength to their Jaeger. Just a few more seconds…

With twin snarls of exertion Cherno and Coyote flung Scunner's body into the Breach. For an awful moment it seemed to hover over the rift, floating on a bed of energy as if the Anteverse was about to reject it… then it sank out of sight.

And not a moment too soon, for Armada began to howl above them.

Striker! Cherno shouted. Gipsy!

We just shot it! Gipsy replied, her voice full of wonder as if she couldn't entirely believe what they had just done. It's going down!

Get outta there! Striker added. It's gonna collapse the dome!

Everyone get out of here! Cherno shouted back. We've got a minute and a half before that charge goes off!

They squeezed out of the dome not a moment too soon – Coyote had barely pulled herself clear when it collapsed behind them, crushed under the weight of Armada's body. The massive kaiju flailed, jaws snapping open and shut, limbs jerking in violent spasms.

We did it, Cherno marveled. We did it! We destroyed the Breach…

"Not yet, little one," Sasha replied. "Let's get out of here before it goes off. Find Crimson and-"

Then the world whited out in absolute agony as jaws clamped around Cherno's midsection. Alarms shrieked in the Conn Pod as massive teeth sheared through armor like a knife cutting flesh, crushing internal components, causing system after system to scream in protest before winking out entirely. Armada tightened its grip, expending the last of its energy on squeezing the life out of at least one Jaeger before it expired.

"CHERNO!" Aleksis had no idea if that cry came from him or Sasha – and frankly, it didn't matter. His son… his son was hurt, badly, and there was nothing he could do…

Hurts… it hurts…

Aleksis raised his fist, forcing Cherno's arm to mirror his own move. Again and again they pummeled Armada's jaws, each blow infused with energy from the Tesla coils, trying desperately to get the beast to let go. Armada hissed in pain but just clamped its jaws harder, sending fresh warnings spilling over the readouts.

"Hold on!" Sasha ordered, fist raised as she and Aleksis pounded at Armada. "Just hold on! We have to make it let go!"

No time… Cherno gave a shuddering groan around them. Mama… Papa… you have to go…

"We will NOT lose you again!" Aleksis insisted.

You won't… I promise. There was no fear in Cherno's voice now – only a calm acceptance. I'll always be with you… in the drift.

Aleksis felt his heart plummet. "Cherno, no…"

Jaegers… protect humanity… at all costs… I won't let you die with me. Mama… Papa… help Caitlin help the others… please…

And with that cryptic request, Cherno gripped his Conn Pod with his good hand and gave a brutal twist. Metal shrieked and snapped as he wrenched it free of its housing… then released it.

"CHERNO!"

Massive hands closed over the floating pod, and Coyote Tango tucked Cherno's cockpit under one arm and bolted just as the bomb detonated. A massive shockwave bowled her over, sending her smashing into Striker just as he bent over to collect Crimson's body. She curled her body protectively around the Conn Pod, but even that wasn't enough to save the Kaidonovskys from being tossed and battered within their harnesses.

Aleksis fought to hang onto consciousness as long as he could, but eventually pain and grief won over, and blackness overtook him.

The force of the detonation didn't just knock Coyote over – it made both Mustang and his organic opponent stumble to their knees. Silt flooded the water, obscuring their visions, and waves of heat blistered the Mark VI's paint and scorched the tissues and shell making up the Precursor Jaeger. Something huge went flying overhead, though whether it was a luckless Jaeger or a kaiju body, who could say?

Mustang recovered first, and he let out a soft whine. Uncle Newt?

"I know, I know, we can't see a thing either," Newt replied. "Don't give up, okay Mustang? We can do this!"

Uncle Hermann?

"Don't be afraid, dear-heart," Hermann urged. "You can do this!"

A silhouette materialized in the dirty fog before them – the Precursor Jaeger. Mustang barely twisted to the side in time to avoid the strike, and an ivory spike came within a meter of gouging his shoulder.

"Finish him!" Newt shouted.

"Dammit, Newt, this isn't a video game!" Hermann snapped.

"And this isn't time to argue!" Newt retorted. "Let's own this bad boy, Mustang! NOW!"

The organic Jaeger drew back for another strike… but Mustang struck first. One curved blade rammed into the monstrosity's abdomen, punching through shell and flesh, then shell again as it burst out through its back. Within the transparent Conn Pod two bodies flailed, struggling to fight back, but Mustang thrust upward, the blade carving its way through the armored torso until it pierced the cockpit. Gel spilled out like blood from a mortal wound, enveloping the two Jaegers in a greenish cloud of slime.

The organic Jaeger remained standing for a few moments more… at least until Mustang jerked his blade free. It toppled forward, limp and still bleeding ichor and slime from a dozen cuts. The Mark VI prodded the fallen beast with the tip of a blade, watching for signs of movement, then gave it a disdainful kick when it didn't so much as twitch in response.

"Whooooo!" Newt hooted, throwing his arms into the air. "You did it, Mustang!"

Mustang!

"Exactly! We'll work on teaching you more words when you get back to the Shatterdome. Uh… I sure hope they worked out a plan for getting the Jaegers to the surface."

"They have something planned," Hermann replied. "Something involving the Chinese submarine fleet…"

Pain stabbed through Newt's head, and the drift exploded into a maelstrom of emotion – fear, anger, despair, a hatred so strong it made his guts churn. Dimly he could hear Hermann groan in pain and Mustang squeal in terror… feel their Jaeger's arms pump in a rhythm as he stabbed at the fallen Precursor mecha, as if by obliterating it he could destroy whatever was hurting his Rangers…

WE ARE NOT DONE WITH YOUR WORLD. THIS ISN'T THE END. THERE WILL BE OTHER RIFTS, OTHER BASES. OUR WORLD IS DYING… BUT IT IS NOT DEAD YET. AND WE WILL FIGHT UNTIL OUR DYING MOMENTS TO PRESERVE OUR KIND.

Newt wasn't sure which of the three of them responded – himself, Hermann, Mustang, or perhaps all three. But all their hearts were behind the words anyhow.

"And so will we."

Mustang shuddered as the connection with the Precursor sputtered out. Newt shook his head and felt at his face, wondering how many times he was going to go through this. He was getting sick of having to clean up after nosebleeds…

"Whichever Precursor we were linked to must have been in that Jaeger," Hermann muttered. "Perhaps, with their death, this means the end of these episodes."

"Do you really believe that?" asked Newt.

"Not really," Hermann replied. "But one can hope."

Mustang whined again. Uncle Newt? Uncle Hermann?

"We're okay, big guy." Newt forced a smile. "Hey… we won the battle. And we're gonna win the war, no matter how long it takes, okay? C'mon… let's go flag down a sub and get home."

Mustang chirped in response, and he turned to make his way over to where the other Jaegers were struggling to get to their feet. None of them protested as the black Jaeger bent down to collect Crimson's body, and without even thinking they moved to give him a place among their numbers.

Together, the last five Jaegers walked away from the base of the seamount, silent save their own thoughts. There would be time to celebrate – and mourn – later; for now, all they wanted was to return home.