The secure conference room at Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam was packed and tense.
The air smelled of stale coffee, sweat, and the faint ozone from too many running servers.
Large screens covered three walls, cycling through every available angle of the incident: FLIR from the helicopters, optical feeds from news choppers that had arrived late, satellite passes, and even traffic cameras along the Embarcadero that had caught distant flashes of white light.
General Harlan Voss stood at the head of the long table, arms crossed, jaw set like granite.
Around him sat representatives from Pacific Command, NORAD, DARPA, and a quiet, suited contingent from a classified organization known internally as "Monarch Protocol"... the group tasked with tracking extraterrestrial and anomalous biological threats.
A NASA liaison, Dr. Elena Vasquez, sat near the end of the table, her laptop open to orbital tracking data.
The footage played again on the main screen.. slowed down this time.
A lone figure in a torn black hoodie rising from the bay. Catching a sixty-meter kaiju by its thrashing tendrils.
Snapping them like twigs. Lifting the entire creature clear of the water. Then the eyes flaring white... twin beams of pure energy carving straight through the kaiju's skull.
Finally, the casual, almost effortless throw that sent the corpse streaking into low-Earth orbit like a discarded toy.
The room was dead silent for several seconds after the clip ended.
General Voss broke it first, voice flat and heavy.
"Gentlemen. Ladies. We just watched one man.. one.. do what an entire carrier strike group would struggle to accomplish. And he did it in under four minutes."
Colonel Ramirez, the intelligence lead, cleared his throat. "We've run every database. Facial recognition, gait analysis, voice prints from the few words caught on open channels, nothing...
He's been living under the alias Marcus Hale for the past six months. Worked as a waiter, then a kitchen assistant at a place called Luna Verde in the Mission District. Paid cash for rent.Kept his head down. No social media. No criminal record. Clean… too clean."
A Monarch Protocol representative... a thin woman in her forties named Dr. Katherine Lang.. leaned forward. Her voice was calm but edged with urgency.
"This isn't the first time we've seen something like this. Monarch has files on 'Titan-class' entities and potential extraterrestrial interventions. But nothing matches this power profile. The energy beams alone registered on our orbital sensors as concentrated solar plasma. Temperature estimates exceeded 15,000 Kelvin at point of impact. That's not human technology. That's not even close to human technology."
Dr. Elena Vasquez from NASA spoke next, her fingers tapping rapidly on her laptop.
"Orbital tracking confirms the kaiju remains entered low-Earth orbit and began atmospheric re-entry burn-up approximately 47 minutes ago. The throw velocity was… absurd. We're talking escape velocity achieved with raw physical strength. No rocket assist. No visible propulsion on the subject. He's operating on a scale that makes our entire space program look like a hobby."
General Voss rubbed his temples. "Options. Give me options."
Ramirez spoke first. "Full surveillance package. Every satellite we can retask. Facial recognition on every camera in the Bay Area. Cell tower pings. We already have a loose lock on the apartment building where he's been living. We can have a team on the ground in four hours."
Dr. Lang from Monarch added, "We treat him as an unknown Titan-class entity for now. Priority is containment and assessment. Do not engage directly. If he's hostile, we need to know his weaknesses before we poke him. If he's… something else, we need to understand his agenda."
Vasquez nodded. "NASA is already modeling red-spectrum solar radiation based on preliminary data SHIVA shared with us through back channels. Early simulations suggest it could suppress his abilities. We're fast-tracking prototype emitters, but we're talking months, not days."
General Voss stared at the frozen image of Marcus hovering above the bay, eyes glowing.
"Agenda," he repeated. "That's the part that keeps me up. He saved the city tonight. No collateral damage. Clean kill. But what happens when the next one shows up? Or the one after that? Does he decide he's the only one qualified to play god? Or does someone else try to weaponize him?"
He straightened, voice hardening into command tone.
"Code name remains 'Solaris.' Highest classification. Joint task force with Monarch and NASA support. Find him. Watch him. Do not approach until we have a containment plan. And somebody get me eyes on that apartment building right now. I want to know who he talks to, where he goes, and whether he has any vulnerabilities we can use if he turns."
The room erupted into coordinated motion.... phones ringing, secure lines lighting up, analysts pulling feeds.
On one of the side screens, a new feed appeared: live traffic and security cameras around Marcus's apartment building. A figure in a black hoodie could be seen slipping back toward the complex from the direction of the bay.
General Voss's eyes narrowed.
"Get me everything on that building. Neighbors. Girlfriends. Anyone he's been seen with. If Solaris has attachments, they're leverage. Whether he likes it or not."
Meanwhile
Marcus & Priya's Apartment
Priya hadn't let go of his hand since he finished speaking.
She was quiet for a long time, processing everything he had told her.. the Kryptonian bloodline, the yellow sun, the accidental time-space jump from two billion years in the past.
He had left out the worst details: the kaiju he had killed and eaten for power, the proto-Godzilla he had touched in its cradle, the fifty years of near-total solitude. Those could wait.
Finally, she squeezed his fingers.
"I believe you," she said softly. "It sounds insane, but… I believe you. The way you moved tonight, the way you threw that thing… no normal person could do that."
Marcus exhaled slowly, relief mixing with lingering tension. "Thank you."
Priya leaned her head against his shoulder again. "So what do we do now?"
"We keep living," he answered. "I go back to work tomorrow night like nothing happened. You keep drawing. We keep doing… this." He gestured between them. "The military will come looking eventually. When they do, I'll deal with it. But until then, I want as many normal days with you as I can get."
She smiled faintly, though worry still lingered in her eyes. "I can work with that. Just… promise me you'll be careful?"
"I promise."
They sat together in the quiet apartment as the city outside slowly calmed.
Priya eventually drifted off against his chest, exhausted from the adrenaline crash. Marcus stayed awake, one arm around her, staring at the ceiling.
The singular king still slept far beneath the waves.
But the world had just seen the scale.
And both the military and SHIVA were already moving pieces into place.
For now, though, Marcus held the woman who made him want to stay human a little longer, and let the night stretch on in peaceful silence.
Tomorrow would bring whatever it brought.
Tonight, he still had this.