The 4th Research Institute was in utter chaos.
Dozens of hostile unidentified phenomena had escaped containment.
However, there were no casualties caused by them.
Of course, there weren’t.
The monsters that would normally be gleefully ripping people in half were instead flattened against the floor, barely breathing, crushed under the pressure of its presence.
To begin with, there hadn’t been “dozens” of them—there had been “hundreds.”
There was another reason the situation was called a catastrophe.
It was obvious where most of those unknown entities had disappeared to.
IF-190, an entity known as “Jangsanbeom,” a 4-meter-tall white, hopping spider, had realized that the walls confining it were gone.
Yet, it did not move outside.
It did not scatter the fur that induced relaxation.
It did not rub its front legs together to mimic the voices of other creatures.
Of course, it didn’t.
No creature in the world hunts while being chased by a predator.
IF-190 simply remained there, pressed against the ground, holding its breath.
Then, with a thunderous roar—
BOOM!
Half of the containment chamber was obliterated.
And slowly, it was revealed.
Saw-like teeth.
Crimson scales.
A forked tongue.
And then, IF-190 met eyes with a vertical pupil as large as its own body.
“Little insect, little insect… What are you so afraid of…?”
— Screech.
IF-190 curled up, unable to even attempt to flee.
The massive, mountain-like reptile sneered.
Mimicking IF-190’s cries perfectly with its flame-filled maw, it laughed as if amused.
“Screech, screeeech. Grrrhahaha… So powerless, so weak… Be honored to die and become my flesh and blood…”
Then—CHOMP.
A bus-sized tongue slithered out from between its densely packed fangs, wrapping around
IF-190, crushing it slowly.
A splatter of yellow bodily fluid sprayed onto the half-collapsed ceiling and walls.
And soon, IF-190 disappeared into the gaping maw, large enough to swallow an entire building.
— Crunch. Crunch.
A puff of black, sulfur-scented breath was exhaled, and that was it.
The arthropod, which had reigned over Jangsan for decades, devouring hundreds of humans, met its end as nothing more than a single bite of food.
Amidst a concentrated barrage of firepower that seemed excessive for a single creature—
It continued to devour every living thing it could find, unceasingly moving its head.
“How revolting you taste…”
***
IF-684.
It tore through the interior of the 4th Research Institute, moving straight upward.
Something straight out of mythology—a dragon.
The mobile strike force moved in perfect coordination.
“Level 2 weapon ‘Nothung,’ decompression complete. Detonation countdown initiated.”
“Cover! Take cover!”
A black harpoon rocketed through the air and embedded itself into the creature’s scale-covered torso.
A flash of light flickered—
—BOOM!!!
A massive explosion engulfed the area, a mushroom cloud the size of a building rising into the air.
A blood-curdling roar shook the space.
“KYAAAAAA!!”
Blood gushed from between IF-684’s shattered scales as its vertical pupils gleamed menacingly.
The Siegfried unit braced themselves, expecting a furious counterattack.
“How laughable…”
Yet, to their confusion—
IF-684 ignored them.
Unlike in previous containment breaches, its behavior was noticeably different.
“…What the hell?”
Before they could process it, IF-684, indifferent to minor injuries, extended its tongue through the collapsed corridors, sweeping up dozens of humans at once.
Those paralyzed by fear couldn’t even resist as they were pulled into the infernal blaze of its throat—incinerated upon ingestion.
The head, as large as a bomber, licked its lips.
“Warm… As expected, you ground-dwelling creatures are the tastiest…”
Three of its scales had been destroyed by ‘Nothung.’
Yet in the same time span, five new ones had regenerated.
A hopeless trade-off.
Siegfried operatives groaned in despair.
“It’s pointless. Even if we keep reducing its mass, it regenerates too fast.”
“At this rate, it should have lost its mind and started firing off breath attacks everywhere. Did someone tell this thing that if it conserves energy, it can just break through and escape?”
“If its wings finish regenerating…”
Silence.
He swallowed his words, but everyone present understood what he meant.
Even while crawling on all fours, it was already overwhelming.
If it took flight, the outcome was obvious.
The seasoned members of Siegfried knew what that meant—the destruction of the research facility and everything nearby.
The wing bases were already sturdy.
The membrane was healing.
And then, suddenly—IF-684 looked upward.
“You won’t flee…? Grrh… Excellent… Very well, then… Face me head-on…”
Immediately—
A sound that would haunt every Siegfried operative’s nightmares echoed through the air.
— Ssssssshhhhh!
Everyone saw it.
The nine rings encircling its heart began to glow and rotate in unison.
Everyone felt it.
The heat surging through its entire body, condensing toward its mouth.
The dragon tilted its head back, jaws opening wide.
“BREATH ATTACK…!”
“TAKE COVER!
TO THE CORNERS!!”
The light pouring from between its scales converged into its mouth.
The moment everyone threw themselves backward—
A deafening explosion erupted.
The once solidly built research facility—dozens of floors were shredded apart like paper.
This was not mere noise—it was a shockwave.
Everyone knew.
This was IF-684’s true strength—its identity.
The Breath Attack.
“Grrrrrrr……”
As the blinding light faded, A massive hole was left where countless floors once stood, debris scattered across the ruins.
Beyond the wreckage, through the gaping cavity—
Natural sunlight streamed down.
The sky was clear.
“…That monster bastard. It even blasted through the research facility’s rooftop.”
One of the Siegfried unit members muttered in a daze.
A complete failure in initial suppression.
In the center of the research facility—now devastated beyond recognition, leaving no place to stand—the dragon hovered in the air, fully unfurling its wings.
With things having escalated to this point, there was nothing more they could do.
Now was the time to retreat, reorganize, and return later.
He tried to move.
But then—he stopped.
His legs trembled.
His stomach churned.
It felt as if his feet were glued to the ground.
The other unit members beside him, who had been conversing just moments ago, were frozen in the same state.
“So, it is here…”
Fear.
He found himself locking eyes with a vertical pupil larger than himself.
And in that instant, he knew—this was it.
It was over.
He braced himself for death.
“You do not even flinch beneath my gaze…? Yes, yes… If you were one of those cunning sea serpents, I suppose that much would be expected…”
Yet, no matter how long he waited, death did not come.
It wasn’t that IF-684 was sparing him.
Rather—it simply wasn’t paying him any attention.
As his confusion grew, he finally noticed it.
A small, fluttering white figure in his peripheral vision.
And that was when he understood.
There was only one humanoid unidentified phenomenon in this facility that even IF-684 would not be able to overwhelm.
***
Object Class: Supreme.
Threat Level: Benevolent.
IF-017.
“Dragon.”
From who-knows-where, a tiny, child-like entity had stepped forward—light, quick footsteps echoing in the ruined space.
And it stood before IF-684.
Then, with a sharp gesture—
“I have burned to ash all the lowly creatures who worship your pathetic serpent form… I have torn apart the lesser beings who served you and made them my flesh… How does it feel? Are you furious? Are you enraged?”
IF-684 grinned, seemingly enjoying itself, as it pressed for an answer.
And in response—
IF-017, the Dragon, declared:
“Gyaoo.”
…What?
He had thought this before, but…
There was something strangely similar between that little plump snake and this massive mountain of a creature.
Now that he was closer, the feeling became clearer.
‘Was his intuition off?’
He decided to compare them side by side.
The massive creature in front of him, standing with a proud posture, crawling toward him with authority.
And then…
“Fast! Overwhelming! Ancestor! Help!”
…The tiny plump snake squirming in his arms, constantly transmitting its frantic thoughts.
‘What the hell?’
‘They’re nothing alike.’
‘What did it mean by “fast”?’
‘If it wanted to go faster, it should’ve just fallen.’
Meanwhile, he was the one slowing down the descent, spreading his wings to land gently.
‘Clearly, this height must have felt like a terrifying cliff to the tiny snake.’
‘But if it were that giant creature over there, it would probably leap down from this height like it was nothing more than a second-story jump.’
‘…Yeah, they’re nothing alike.’
‘Then why did they give off such a similar feeling?’
‘Hmm.’
‘It was annoyingly noisy, but maybe if he got a little closer, he’d figure it out…?’
Just as he was lost in thought—
“You will not flee…?”
“Grrh…”
“Excellent…”
“Very well, then…”
“Face me head-on…”
‘Huh?’
‘Wait.’
‘Did it just see something?’
Flames burst wildly from IF-684’s mouth, but that didn’t matter at all.
He just had to shield the plump snake properly so it wouldn’t get burned.
More importantly—over there.
Inside its gaping, roaring maw.
Beyond its throat, something was glowing.
…He knew what it was.
The glimmering rings orbiting its heart.
They were so damaged that he had only now noticed them.
But there was no doubt.
Aha.
Now he understood.
What this thing was.
‘Why had it provoked him so suddenly?’
But he still didn’t get why it felt similar to the plump snake.
“Gyaoo.”
With a light thump, he landed softly on the ground.
Finally, he faced it.
The one that had made such a ruckus from the very first day he woke up here.
“So, it is here…”
He stood on the ground.
Meanwhile, it hovered in the air, flapping its wings obnoxiously.
Even though it could have easily lowered itself to match his eye level, it arrogantly chose to loom above him.
…Oh?
It muttered something, but he didn’t hear a word of it.
Not that it mattered.
He had already known it was loud.
But hearing it up close—
It was unbearable.
He was exhausted.
And this thing had no intention of lowering its damn volume.
Annoying.
“Gyaaah.”
Its wings—if it wanted to flap, it should have at least done it quietly.
Every time they moved, they whooshed, whooshed, sending gusts that rippled through his bangs.
Forget everything else.
First, he needed to shut it up.
He sent a mental command.
He was sure this one would understand.
“Hey.”
“Clanker.”
“Stand at attention.”
“…Do not call me that…!!”
…Even now, it refused to lower its volume.
Oh well.
Its rings were already shattered.
So “Clanker” it was.
And soon—
It, too, would be shattered.
Until it finally shut up.
“Gyaoo.”