Project Vulcan was never meant to change the world. It was meant to keep it alive.
As global energy demands exceeded every forecast, humanity turned inward, drilling deeper into the planet itself. Geothermal extraction expanded into tectonic fault zones and oceanic trenches once thought unreachable. Entire industrial platforms were constructed above pressure points no civilization had ever disturbed.
The reason was simple. Heat. Power. Stability.
The planet answered with violence.
The first anomalies were dismissed as technical error. Seismic readings contradicted established models. Thermal spikes appeared without volcanic activity. Deep-sea probes transmitted corrupted data before losing signal entirely. Engineers blamed faulty calibration. Equipment was replaced. Operations continued.
Then the ground responded.
Structures beneath the crust moved with intent. When the first entity surfaced near a Vulcan offshore platform, it tore through steel and concrete as if reacting to intrusion rather than defending territory. It retreated back into the depths without hesitation.
Humanity named them Abyssal.
Initial encounters suggested containment was possible. Smaller Abyssal organisms emerged near drilling zones and coastal facilities. Medium-sized entities followed, displaying rapid adaptation but limited intelligence. Militaries responded with conventional doctrine. Rifles worked. Heavy artillery worked. Missile strikes reduced targets to organic debris.
A global danger classification was established.
Vermin-Class for minor threats.
Behemoth-Class for larger entities requiring sustained firepower.
The world believed the threat was manageable.
Then the giants rose.
The first Calamity-class Abyssal displaced oceans as it moved. Satellite imaging struggled to define its full mass. Atmospheric pressure shifted across entire regions. Naval task forces rerouted simply to avoid its presence.
Every weapon humanity possessed was deployed.
Cruise missiles vanished into its body. Directed energy dispersed across its surface. Nuclear authorization was granted under extinction-level protocol. The detonation illuminated the sky.
The Abyssal absorbed the blast.
It did not burn.
It did not fragment.
It continued moving.
Humanity reached the limit of warfare.
The first Calamity died not by strategy, but by weakness. Structural degradation was detected across its internal systems. A single ballistic missile struck a compromised core. The impact did not destroy the entity. It simply stopped. Dead.
The body remained intact.
Humanity dissected it.
What was discovered shattered biology itself. Abyssal organs functioned as autonomous reactors. Neural clusters processed threat data faster than artificial intelligence. Skeletal structures surpassed composite alloys in stress tolerance. The conclusion was immediate.
If monsters could not be defeated, humanity would become one.
Project Vulcan was repurposed.
Abyssal neural and cardiac organs were fused with human engineering to create Demon Cores. Armor frames were reinforced with processed Abyssal bone. Weapons were grown rather than manufactured. Thus, the Phalanx was born.
The first generation was designated P-G1. The Oni.
They were brutal and unstable. Their Demon Cores never truly powered down. They reacted to threat instinctively, not rationally. Neural bridging bypassed artificial intelligence entirely, connecting Abyssal biology directly to the human nervous system.
The results were immediate and devastating.
Pilots experienced reaction speeds beyond machine limits. They sensed Abyssal movement before sensors detected it. They felt pressure shifts, spatial distortion, and hostile intent without visual confirmation.
They also began to break.
At first, it was subtle. Sleep disturbances. Emotional flattening. Heightened aggression. Then hallucinations. Persistent threat perception. Inability to distinguish combat memory from present reality.
This was not limited to one nation.
Reports surfaced worldwide.
In Europe, P-G1 pilots began attacking non-hostile targets during training exercises.
In North America, several pilots were restrained after entering uncontrolled combat states. In Asia, entire Oni units were withdrawn following mass psychological collapse. In Eastern Europe and the Middle East, multiple P-G1 operators took their own lives within months of deployment.
Demon Core exposure did not damage one mind. It eroded humanity itself.
The Rakshasa Unit was deployed as a last-resort formation during a Calamity-class event rising from the Java Trench. The target approached the southern coast of Bali Island. The Abyssal was designated Codename Leviathan. In classified biological records, it was labeled Abyssusdevorator pelagicus.
Standard Phalanx units were destroyed within minutes. Advanced models failed to maintain distance. Rakshasa was ordered in despite the known risks.
The engagement was catastrophic.
Leviathan adapted mid-combat. Its tissue hardened against kinetic force. Internal structures shifted to absorb Demon Core resonance. Close-range engagement became fatal.
Rakshasa units were torn apart.
Some pilots died instantly.
Others were taken alive.
Their Phalanx frames continued transmitting combat data long after biological signals ceased.
Bara survived.
Asura sustained critical damage, but remained operational long enough to force Leviathan into retreat. The Abyssal was not destroyed. It withdrew into the trench, damaged but alive.
Rakshasa Unit ceased to exist.
After Bali, the collapse accelerated globally.
Surviving P-G1 pilots deteriorated at an alarming rate. Hallucinations intensified. Aggression escalated. Several committed suicide. Others were institutionalized. Some vanished entirely, their records sealed.
Bara did not escape the damage. He suffered intrusive thoughts, memory fragmentation, and constant sensory echoes. Without medication, paranoia and aggression surfaced rapidly. He was classified as unstable, not insane, not safe.
Neural suppressants became mandatory.
Unlike many others, Bara retained self-awareness. He recognized the Abyssal impulses without surrendering to them. He learned restraint, not as recovery, but as survival.
He was not cured.He was controlled.
Asura was sealed. P-G1 deployment was suspended worldwide. Governments erased the Oni from public history and introduced cleaner, safer Phalanx generations.
Officially, Bara was retired.
Unofficially, he was reassigned.
He became a trainer.
Then a supervisor.
Eventually, the head of a GDF Military Heavy Trooper unit.
He no longer piloted monsters.
He trained humans who still believed war could be fought without losing the mind.
The world moved on.
But across the globe, the scars remained.
And beneath the ocean, Leviathan remembered Bali.
So did Bara