I sleep most of the flight home.
I don't dream of Siron, but I do dream of the other kaiju, of what happened in Sydney.
I feel like I've looked at the face of God, the true form of whatever supreme beings exist far out in the universe, creating and destroying at their own discretion.
And Wendigo, in my eyes, is a step above them. But they are still children, they are still young. I worry for them in an almost-motherly way, worry like a parent seeing their children off to their first day of school.
They'd departed Sydney with shocking subtlety.
No one actually saw them leave, that’s the strange thing. But they did leave, and I'm told they're still being tracked. Each kaiju’s moving northward. Whether or not they're still swimming is up f...
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