At the base command center, over a hundred people sat before computer desks, methodically sorting and compiling data. Various graphs and images refreshed frame by frame across the giant screens.
Many believed that the drivers deserved the greatest credit for the Mech Hunters' ability to defeat Kaiju. Without them, there would be no victories, and these heroes deserved admiration.
That was indeed true. Mech drivers required extraordinary talent, and how much power a mech could unleash depended entirely on their performance in the moment.
Every time they fought on the front lines, they risked their lives. They were qualified for, and deserving of, such honor.
But that was only one aspect. Behind the Mech Hunters' glory stood countless unsung heroes.
The logistics, maintenance, and supply personnel alone numbered in the tens of thousands. And when the mechs fought, the elites responsible for recording data, transmitting intelligence, and supporting the drivers so they could focus solely on throwing punches also deserved immense credit.
Mechs were not humans. Every movement had delays and reaction times. You could not expect two drivers to fight with everything they had while also perfectly handling everything else.
In fact, the Kaiju invading Earth did not have just one brain either.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
A piercing alarm blared. On the electronic screens, the red light of the modeled breach projection flashed. The elites stared dumbfounded at the surging data, unable to believe it.
Nine new Kaiju signatures had appeared: three large and six small. They consisted of six Category Four elites and three Category Five lords.
Added to the previous two Category Four Kaiju, the area around the breach instantly became a forbidden zone of despair.
"This... this is impossible!"
The elites were on the verge of collapse. They had never seen such exaggerated Kaiju readings. The