2024

Shatterdomes globally are at risk of shutdown as PPDC Marshals Pentecost and Kim enter talks with Pacific countries’ heads of state.

Stock markets worldwide have begun to rally around building materials like concrete and steel, and economic faith continues to slip away from the Jaeger program and required materials as more and more pilots are lost in the battles against kaiju.

We watch, as a people, with bated breath. We wait to see what the world’s best engineers can conjure up as rumors of the reinforced wall continue to pick up steam. Coastal cities are beginning to see mass exoduses as citizens move further inland, making room for wall construction to begin.

It is still unclear whether these citizens are moving of their own accord or being asked to by their governments.

We will see.

----------------------------------------------------------

Busan Shatterdome, 2024

If you thought for a hot second that your training might pause for even one second in response to the rumors of PPDC’s shutdown, you were wrong. And thankfully so -- the last thing you wanted to do was leave the one thing that made you feel alive and useful.

There was no way in hell you were going to go back home, tail between your legs, to hide in a kaiju bunker. You came to Busan to learn how to fight, and to actually one day do so face-to-face with the enemy. But no matter how abundant your motivation and determination had been when you arrived months ago, it wavered somewhat these days. Not from a change in your mission, but from the sheer rigor you were put through by Head Instructor Kim Jongin.

“Call me Kai,” he’d told your class with an easy smile and a wink (you swear he directed it at the lethal ex-ballerina cadet in your cohort), right before plunging into a sparring lesson.

Sparring. On Day One.

You weren’t completely unprepared; you had come to the Shatterdome from the best academy in Seoul. But so did a handful of other pilot hopefuls, and some of the J-tech cadets were actually pretty skilled in combat for people who sat in control rooms all day long. Every night you step under a scalding hot shower in the cadet quarters, crouching low and turning your back to fend off any unwanted stares over the not-high-enough partitions.

You socialize for the minimum amount required to maintain some level of camaraderie, because you know to keep yourself focused. There are only three true Jaeger pilot positions available, and even then, those three are more like one slot and two maybes. Your competition is fierce; there are nearly seven of you vying for the job.

The competitiveness doesn’t bother you. You know your skills and you know where you stand. There’s just one problem.

The one real pilot opening is for Black Pearl -- your late boyfriend’s rig. With the co-pilot that was with him when he died. It’s always been odd to you that you’d never met Sehun, despite Johnny always speaking so highly of him and referring to him as one of his closest friends. But Sehun rarely left the Shatterdome, and Johnny never brought him on any of his visits home.  You’re not entirely sure you want to be in Sehun’s mind; not when you know he holds memories that will open fresh wounds for you. But he’s your only real chance to fight on the frontlines. The other two positions are for a recently decommissioned Jaeger -- two pilots would be assigned, but only called to service if the Jaeger could be brought back in.

You wouldn’t mind that one, either; Gipsy Valor was a legendary Mark 3 beauty, originally helmed by Marshal Kim himself with Busan’s most talented J-tech, Zhang Yixing. But as you learned more about your fellow Ranger cadets, you couldn’t imagine yourself working with any one of them.

But now, in hand-to-hand combat class, Kai shouts something that sounds like your name. It jars you from your thoughts, and you’re given a split second before he launches all six feet of his muscle at you.

You barely have time to think before you drop to your knees and bend backwards as far as you can. The air moves around you as Kai’s body sails over your torso. A light thud on the training room’s mats tells you the instructor tucked into a roll, and you jump up to assume a defensive lunge immediately. Kai breathes heavily a few feet in front of you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his pet cadet looking thoroughly shocked, as if she expected you to be dead by now. The room is quiet. Nobody thought you’d dodge in time -- nobody, you notice, including Instructor Kai himself. Crouched low into a ridiculous, superhero-looking pose, he pants from the full session of sparring. Then he pulls himself up to stand, walking over to you and extending a hand.

You take it tentatively, wondering if he’s about to spring another trap on you, but Instructor Kai just claps you on the back instead.

“Nice work,” he breathes, wiping sweat from his brow. “Not much left to teach you, eh?”

Behind you, you sense his favorite student tensing in jealousy,

“Not to worry,” Instructor Kai shoots her an easy grin. “The rest of you have many more lessons to go. Private lessons, too.”

The tension behind your dissipates immediately, and you roll your eyes as Kai dismisses the class.

-----------------------------------------

Sehun watches from the adjoining room with one-way mirror, arms crossed. On this side of the glass, things are much different; evaluators in lab coats shiver where they stand, and even Sehun feels a little chilly in his leather jacket. All the students on the training mat, however, splay themselves all over as they regain their breath, wipe off sweat, and try to cool themselves with all the water they can gulp down.

His eyes stay trained on you. For weeks now he’s been antsy about your presence and even antsier about Junmyeon’s secretive smile. You? The cadet most drift-compatible with him?

Yeah, right.

He had Johnny’s secrets to hide, and he didn’t want to show you Johnny’s last breaths. So he frequently watched the pilot cadets’ classes with other instructors and evaluators, hoping for the tiniest slip-up, for any sign that would prove you weren’t the right fit for each other. Junmyeon had to be wrong. But so far, Sehun had witnessed hours of instruction and found not a single chink in your armor. Two evaluators gasp and shuffle closer to the glass. Sehun blinks lazily, eyes slowly following their gaze.

-----------------------------

“You shouldn’t even be here,” one of the brawnier cadets in your class, some guy who’s worn his ego on his sleeve since day one, shoves his face into Kai’s favorite as soon as the instructor leaves the room for his quarters. You tilt your head ever-so-slightly in their direction, nonchalantly taking another swig from your water bottle as your elbows rest on your knees. You’re somewhat certain that the sweat soaking through your clothes are going to make your stick to the training mat, but you can’t be bothered to get up unless things get interesting. “You’re the weakest one, twinkle toes, and you’re just kept around because you’re sleeping with Instructor Kai. What a sellout.”

He rears back, ready to spit. Oh no, he doesn’t.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” you muse, not looking at the duo. You’ve gotten to know the girl over the past few weeks; she’s rail-thin, but you’ve learned not to mess with the wiry strength ballerinas acquire. She’s become a good friend, even if she’s a little twitchy about the attention you get in combat classes.

“Yeah? Well, you better watch it,” the big guy warns. “You think you’re going to get Oh Sehun’s co-pilot seat? We both know I score better overall than you do.”

You sigh, getting up by pushing your hands off your knees. You toss your emptied water bottle to the side, and it bounces off the concrete walls before landing softly by your duffel bag.

“Nobody likes a bully,” you say plainly, and wander over to pull Kai’s favorite student away by her tiny arm. You can feel the raging coursing through her, but the last thing you all need is for anyone to snap and get the whole lot punished by Marshal Kim.

But Big Brawny gets into your face, your own arm now enclosed in his viselike grip.

-------------------

Sehun raises his eyebrows. His body leans forward involuntarily; as soon as the lunking idiot spoke up, he’d already felt his indignance rising.

He and Johnny grew closer in their own training days because of their shared, overly keen senses of justice. It was precisely why they worked so well as co-pilots, and why Johnny’s infidelity shocked Sehun so much. He never had the chance to ask why or how Johnny got himself into such a situation when he’d only sung praises of his girlfriend for so many years.

Maybe Sehun isn’t so different from this girl after all. But that’s a fact he’s too begrudging to admit, no matter how spellbound he (and the other evaluators) are by this fascinating display of human beings in a semi-natural habitat.

They all look on from the safety of their room, pens poised at clipboards (one for each of the cadets on the other side of the glass, and wait expectantly to see what you’ll do.

-----------

“May I help you?” You ask coolly, slowly dragging your eyes up Big Brawny’s sweaty form, making him squirm under the scrutiny of your gaze.

“Who died and put you in charge?” He regains his composure, leaning in close and hoping to intimidate.

“Nobody,” you say calmly. Your voice masks the sheer adrenaline and fury running through your veins. “But I don’t stand down when I see someone abusing their strength and using it against others, uninstigated.”

The grip on your hand tightens, and your body tenses. In the flash of an eye, you throw your torso forward to duck down, wrenching your arm somewhat painfully out of the guy’s grasp. Then you dart out your leg to curl around his knee, and jerk your leg forward to bring him to the floor. You slip out of his range of reach delicately, then step behind him to press a knee between his shoulder blades as you pull one of his arms backward.

“You gonna keep swinging your ego around into other people’s business?”

The guy doesn’t answer, but he certainly strains against your hold on him. Easy. You dig your knee in harder, not enough to seriously injure him but just enough to put pressure on his rotator cuff. It sends a message: you mean business, but you’re holding back.

“Let’s try again. Are you going to stop threatening other cadets, or are you going to work on improving yourself, by yourself, if you want that co-pilot slot?”

“Alright!” He bellows, one cheek uncomfortably sticking to the thick tarpaulin plastic of the mat.

“Good.” You shove off of him, yanking his arm to the side so he’s on his back. Then you do what he least expects: you pull upward, giving him the momentum to stand, before shaking his giant hand in yours. “Glad we’re in agreement, then.”

You flash him a smile -- a genuine one, then amble back off to your duffel to pack up. Behind the glass, a flurry of pens scribble away. Sehun uncrosses his arms, sighs, and exits the room.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hyung,” Sehun whines, surprisingly having to scurry to keep up with the older man’s pace. “Why not? You could put four fresh pilots out on the battlefront, all young and impressionable with brains that aren’t yet worn out from the neural load.”

“That’s Marshal Kim to you, Instructor Oh,” Junmyeon muses gently, eyes darting around the Jaeger chamber as he briskly walks on the grated walkway towards his old ride, Gipsy Valor.

Sehun elects to ignore this, letting out another plaintive “hyung!” before jogging around Junmyeon to stop him in his tracks.

“Look,” he breathes, throwing a hand down on the shorter man’s shoulder. (Junmyeon raises his eyebrows and briefly moves his gaze in that direction, but lets it slide with an amused look). “You and I both know that the ‘rumors’ about PPDC getting decommissioned are more likely to come true than not. The President is eager to start building the coastal wall and pour more jobs back into this godforsaken economy, and you know all the other nations’ leaders are thinking the same thing. There’s no need for me to pilot if there’s no need for the PPDC; why not just pick four cadets to patiently wait out their turn just in case something goes wrong? No need to bring me back into the fray.”

“I didn’t give you a choice all those months ago, Sehun-ah.” Junmyeon’s perfect face is gentle, his gaze soft as he looks up into the younger man’s eyes. “I told you the world needs you, and that hasn’t changed.”

A frustrated groan leaves Sehun’s lips. He stalks off, ripping his leather jacket off his shoulders as the heat of his fury overtakes him.

Junmyeon follows his best pilot with an unreadable expression painted over his features. Then he frowns.

The PPDC’s future did, unfortunately, seem uncertain. But the best of his K-science researchers were incredibly worried that the kaiju attacks were becoming more frequent, and more deadly. One had brought a wildly perplexing mathematical model to his desk, words flying out of his mouth to explain that the world would soon see a two-kaiju event bursting from the rift soon.

That was a singularity Junmyeon didn’t want to take chances with. Walls and defenses were certainly necessary throughout aeons of human war, but they only held for so long. If humanity wanted to stay on this planet, they would need an offensive strategy. They would need their Jaegers.

Junmyeon was sure of it.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And then the day comes at last, after weeks and weeks in a simulated comm-pod.

You’re lined up, shoulder-to-shoulder with your fellow pilot cadets in training suits, as evaluators putter around in a giant hall. Sehun pads around the fighting mat set up in the center of the room, dressed plainly in form-fitting sweatpants and a skin-tight, long-sleeved performance shirt.

You’ve danced around him for the past few months, surprisingly never saying a word to him. Not for lack of trying -- when you see him in the mess hall after one of your lessons, you try to catch his eye and bring your tray over, but he avoids you and leaves before you can make it to him. You’ve noticed him coming towards you in the intricate spiderweb of hallways in the Shatterdome, but he always manages to find an alternate route and swing out of your sight when your eyes make contact.

Sure, you thought about hunting him down. The thought gains more of your internal support as you become angrier, insulted by his evasion and confused by it. Shouldn’t he be reaching out to you? He knew of you, you knew of him, and you both loved Johnny so much. It was Sehun who should have come to Johnny’s funeral and given you… something from Johnny’s quarters, maybe. Some sort of memento.

Isn’t that what best friends did to honor fallen friends? But no, you had gotten word not from Johnny’s own co-pilot, but the Marshal himself. And nobody had any information on Johnny’s last moments.

Nobody, you knew, except Sehun.

The more you thought about it, the more furious you became, until a grotesque monster of pain and anger built itself inside you. You’d show him. You didn’t want to be his co-pilot anymore, not permanently. Big Brawny could take that spot for all you cared. But you wanted to drift with him, just once, so that he would know what his silence did to you. And to do that, you had to beat out the rest of the cadets during the assessment period.

So today you stand, barefoot and in uniform, waiting your turn to sit before evaluators and get checked out in the med bay. If you weren’t found to be drift compatible from those metrics, you’d prove it in the direct combat session at the end of the examination period.

You had to.

--------------

Marshal Kim, dressed smartly in most of his regalia, walks up and down the length of the cadets’ row, giving each of you an unreadable smile.

The tension is high as evaluators huddle together to one side of the cavernous hall, crunching the numbers from the various fitness and mental tests they’ve conducted over the past few days. The silence is almost unbearable, and your spine begins to whine at you over the stiffness of your posture.

Then one of the lab coats runs forward to hand Marshal Kim a clipboard with the results.

----------

Junmyeon takes one look at the names listed on the top page. Then he smiles, mostly to himself, but he knows it’s a little show for the expectant cadets standing before him.

“Congratulations,” he says, and the room holds a collective breath. “The results are… interesting. It seems we’ll be hiring five pilots today, with the remaining two cadets offered the choice to become a ranger understudy or work in J-tech instead.”

Despite everyone’s best manners, whispers ripple throughout the examination hall. Big Brawny puffs out his chest -- clearly, five out of seven make for good odds he’ll become a Jaeger pilot. You swallow down your nerves. Understudies were backup pilots, called to duty only when pilots were killed. They were called in far more often than they needed to be, but you wouldn’t wish for a job that relied on someone else’s mortality. Even so, when you entered training, you were all told that only three positions were open. How could there be five?

Junmyeon looks up, eyebrows high in mild surprise. “Ah. I should explain; the PPDC is consolidating Shatterdomes, as I’m sure you’ve heard, in response to budget cuts. Not to worry, the Busan Shatterdome still stands, and we’ve been allocated one of the unpiloted Tokyo Shatterdome Jaegers -- leading us to open up two more pilot positions.”

He smiles, then, at two nervous cadets who stand as close together as possible. “Cadet Nakamoto? Cadet Lee?”

Taeyong and Yuta step forward. The room wonders whether they’re to become pilots or understudies.

“You’re now assigned to the just-arrived Mark 4 Jaeger from Tokyo -- Cherry Bomb. It’s being outfitted with dual blades as we speak, right to your preferred combat specifications as I take it.”

The two men share elated grins, then step back into the line.

“Cadet Bae? Cadet Sooyoung?” Kai’s favorite and a taller girl step forward. You know them better as Irene and Joy -- hauntingly beautiful and devastatingly deadly.

Marshal Kim glances down again, pursing his lips a little as he reviews the results sheet in deep thought. Clubmaster glasses threaten to slide off his face, but they miraculously stay perched on his little nose bridge. He looks at the lot of you over the frames.

“Congratulations, ladies -- you’ll be at the helm of South Korea’s own Mark-4 Jaeger, Psycho. You’ve run several simulations with her software and she responds to you best. I’ve never seen anything like this before; the neural data would suggest that Psycho drifts with you, even though we know that’s psychologically impossible. Nevertheless, you’re perfect for her pilots.”

You grin at the two girls, shooting them quick thumbs-up signs before standing back at attention. They allow themselves a crisp hi-five before stepping back.

“And now for the last pilot,” Marshal Kim says blithely, as if he weren’t holding the fate of the three of you that remain in his hands. He lifts the clipboard, tapping it gently against his hand, as he begins to stride around the room.

-------

Standing with the row of other instructors and evaluators, Sehun shifts his weight between the balls of his feet. Only three cadets remain; there’s a thirty-three percent chance that Junmyeon will sentence him to work with you. And yet, there’s a sixty-six percent chance that you’ll be thrown aside as an understudy or a J-tech, never to drift with him.

It would be a waste of talent, he thinks wryly, lips puckering at the thought. Loathe he is to admit it, you’re the most formidable of the remaining cadets. One of the kids is that idiot bully, who has impressive marks but a temper; the other is the tail-chaser that constantly follows Cadet Park around.  As luck would have it, you were the most fit and formidable to step into Johnny’s large shoes -- but Sehun found himself wishing for anything but your ascension to pilot.

-------

Big Brawny puffs out his chest beside you, clearly thinking that Marshal Kim is saving the best for last. You wonder if perhaps this has all been a stupid mistake. Would you be relegated to J-tech duty after all? After working so hard to get here?  No, you steel yourself. You gave it your all and you know your best efforts are pretty damn good. 1 in 3 odds aren’t bad, and you know your numbers are just as competitive with the rest. But Marshal Kim stops his pacing in the middle of the room. He lifts the top sheet, flipping it over the clip, and scans something on the next page. Then the next. And another.

You could swear you see the slightest raise at the corner of his lips, but the illusion of a secretive smile disappears in an instant.

Big Brawny steps forward, barely suppressing the smarmy pride on his face. You do your best to keep your shoulders up in the face of defeat -- you don’t dare deflate in front of him.

“Your marks were certainly impressive in the combat category, but Ranger Oh’s fighting style leans more towards finesse rather than strength. Your initial drift compatibility assessments also lead us to believe you wouldn’t suit working with Ranger Oh, and for that reason, we’ve decided to extend the option of being an understudy for any fallen pilots. Thank you for your efforts and know that they have not gone unnoticed.”

An audible gasp leaves Big Brawny’s lips, but to his credit, he steps back without another word. Looks like he knows not to challenge authority, in the least.

“Cadet Shim.”

The tall, flirtatious guy steps forward. He’s competent, surely, and if you stood him next to Sehun, you might consider them to be co-pilots already. He looks the part.

But Marshal Kim only raises his eyebrows and gives a wry smile. You notice Sehun angling his neck forward for as best of a glance he can get at the clipboard, but Marshal Kim expertly tucks the papers into his chest before Sehun’s eyes can read a single word.

“You’re talented, to be sure, with high drift compatibility with Ranger Oh.”

Your fellow cadet looks hopeful, eyes flicking over to Joy to see if she’s watching.

“You’re also incredibly distracted. I don’t want your attentions elsewhere during a fight, especially when your distraction of choice tries to take down a kaiju right by your side. That said, I can think of a place where you can focus wholly on the object of your affections.” Marshal Kim looks pointedly between the cadet and Joy (both of whom begin to turn pink as the room erupts into soft giggles). “We’d like to extend an offer for you to be one of the J-techs on Psycho’s team, working out of the Shatterdome.”

All things considered, it’s a good gig, and the cadet smiles. You feel like you’re on fire. Only one pilot slot is left -- and only one cadet remains: you.  Your hopes are delivered when Marshal Kim gives you a smile, eyes looking directly into yours. He calls your name, but you barely hear it over your thundering heartbeat.

“Congratulations. You’ve proven that you’re most suited to co-pilot Black Pearl with Ranger Oh,” he gestures towards the row of evaluators, looking over his shoulder. But Sehun is nowhere to be found -- a gap replaces him between the two instructors he had been standing near.

Marshal Kim falters, but quickly clears his throat. “I take it that Black Pearl is of personal importance for you. I believe your evaluators can all echo the sentiment that you’re doing late Ranger Suh proud. We look forward to your pilotship.”

He exits quickly, and the room lets out a collective exhale.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Junmyeon barely passes the first turn of the hallway before a pale hand darts out and drags him into a little enclave in the cement wall. A steam pipe whistles dangerously nearby him, and a pair of arms pull him forward to be out of harm’s way. Then he looks up, and sighs.

“No, Sehun, I can’t renege on the results,” Junmyeon says, giving the younger man a stern look. “I don’t choose where the dice fall.”

“Hyung.” Sehun’s voice nearly cracks. “I can’t. She can’t. There must be something wrong; I refuse to believe she has even the slightest indication of drift compatibility with me. I’ll take the tail-chaser; once I’m in his head I can figure out how to keep him focused on the battlefield.”

But Junmyeon only levels a gaze at his longtime friend. “No, Sehun. All the results point to her. There’s something that compels you two to work together; I’ve never seen such strong numbers come from a match that wasn’t bound by blood. The last time I saw drift compatibility prospects that high, it was…” he trails off, eyes downcast.

“Johnny and I,” Sehun flatly finishes. “But this isn’t like that. I have my reasons for not wanting to drift with her.”

Junmyeon gives Sehun an exasperated expression that reads, ‘who cares? It’s the apocalypse.’ Then he steps back out into the hallway, fixing his uniform and neatly dusting off the sleeves.

“The numbers are sound, Sehun,” Junmyeon states, his words perforated with the weight of finality. “Find a way to deal with it.”

Then he’s gone, leaving Sehun to stew by the screaming whistle of the steam pipes.

----------------------------------------------------------

Upon assignment to a Jaeger, your first order of business should be to work with your new partner and strengthen your rapport. There’s only one problem: most pilots go into their new jobs with robust interpersonal foundations.

You and Sehun, despite all odds, have none.

You admit you’re a little thrown off by how closely your numbers line up; you were sure you had to contest the assignment results and challenge your competitors to best you in 1:1 combat with Sehun. It made perfect sense for the PPDC to pick the cadet with the best possible match according to the assessments; you just hadn’t expected that cadet to be you upon first try.

You’re glad to have this chance to get into his head, to learn about your lover’s last moments and to understand why his right-hand man never once reached out.

But it frustrates you. Johnny was so important to both of you, so perhaps that was a strong determinant of your compatibility. But shouldn’t this shared connection have brought you together months ago? Why had your boyfriend’s best friend avoided you so adamantly, when you should have worked each other through your shared loss?

Sehun knew something, and he stayed beyond your reach because of it. You were determined to find out what.

----------

Sehun, on the other hand, corners Jongin in the mess hall on the first day he’s meant to begin working with you.

“Jongin,” he urges over metal trays of unrecognizable slop. “I need you to give me every bit of information you have on her combat weaknesses.”

The instructor eyes a piece of suspicious meat swimming in a pool of gravy. He inhales, closing his eyes, and takes a bit. It helps to pretend the rations are fried chicken, but only a little. His eyes open, and he takes in his colleague’s fierce expression. Jongin wonders if it’s Sehun’s intense personality, or maybe just the intensity of his eyebrows, that lends itself to the determined look on the pilot’s face.

“You’ve crept into more than half of my lessons throughout their training period and watched her every move. Either you’