The secure conference room at the SHIVA Consortium's primary research facility in India hummed with restrained urgency.
Multiple large holographic displays floated above the central table, cycling through enhanced footage of the San Francisco incident: the mysterious figure in the black hoodie lifting the kaiju clear of the water, the devastating heat-vision strike, and the casual orbital throw that sent the corpse streaking into space.
Dr. Arjun Rao stood at the head of the table, flanked by the Director and a small team of senior scientists...
The air was thick with the scent of strong coffee and the faint metallic tang from the active server racks.
SHIVA's calm, genderless synthetic voice filled the room as its higher-dimensional core processed the new data in real time.
"Entity 'Solaris' has demonstrated directed solar plasma projection and kinetic strength on a scale exceeding all modeled kaiju-class threats. Power source confirmed: cellular absorption and conversion of yellow stellar radiation. Efficiency: orders of magnitude above baseline Kryptonian-analogue models extrapolated from archived extraterrestrial data."
One of the scientists, a young woman named Dr. Meera Patel, leaned forward. "We've cross-referenced with every known extraterrestrial biology file we have access to. This matches no Archetype signature. It's solar-dependent, like a living photovoltaic reactor.. but self-reinforcing and apparently limitless under yellow sun exposure."
The Director, a stern woman in her fifties named Tilda Miller, tapped the table. "Weaknesses. Give me something we can use."
SHIVA responded instantly, its holographic interface expanding to show a detailed spectral analysis diagram.
"Primary vulnerability identified: red stellar radiation spectrum. Kryptonian-analogue physiology evolved under a red sun (Rao-class). Yellow radiation overcharges cellular mitochondria, granting exponential strength, speed, flight, and energy projection. Red radiation replaces this charge with a 'native' spectrum that induces rapid destabilization. Effects include:
- Immediate suppression of absorbed yellow solar energy.
- Progressive loss of superhuman abilities within minutes of sustained exposure.
- Reduction to near-baseline human durability and strength after prolonged exposure (estimated 10-30 minutes depending on prior charge)..
- No lethal toxicity observed.. the entity would simply become mortal, vulnerable to conventional weaponry.
Prototype development already underway. Designation: Red Sun Emitter Array (RSEA).
Technical Specifications (Current Prototype):
- Core Mechanism: Array of high-intensity red-spectrum lamps and tunable lasers using modified argon and neon gas mixtures, calibrated to emit radiation in the 620–750 nm range (deep red to near-infrared edge). Power draw: 50-200 megawatts per unit, scalable via modular fusion-assisted generators.
-Deployment Options...
- Ground-Based: Mobile truck-mounted units or fixed emplacements around high-value targets. Effective radius: 500-2000 meters depending on power input.
- Aerial: Drone swarms or helicopter-mounted pods for rapid response.
- Orbital: Satellite constellation in development (estimated 18-24 months to deployment) capable of projecting focused red beams from low-Earth orbit.
- Enhancements: Integration with Archetype-derived containment fields to prevent the entity from simply flying out of the affected zone. Early tests on simulated Kryptonian tissue samples show 87% power suppression within 90 seconds.
- Limitations: Requires line-of-sight or atmospheric penetration. Heavy cloud cover or underground locations reduce effectiveness. Entity may adapt over extended exposure if not kept under continuous bombardment.
Dr. Rao studied the schematics. "We're calling the first operational unit 'Rao's Lament.' If we can get him under one of these for even a few minutes, he becomes just another man."
Tilda Miller's expression remained hard. "Then we build more. A lot more. Solaris just proved he's the single greatest threat we've ever encountered or the greatest asset, depending on which way he turns.
I want red-sun tech prioritized above all other Singular Point countermeasures. And keep the surveillance grid saturated. If he so much as steps outside that apartment building again, I want options on the table within minutes."
SHIVA's voice remained perfectly neutral.
"Understood. Red Sun Emitter Array development accelerated. Probability of successful neutralization in a direct confrontation: 71% with current prototypes, rising to 94% with orbital deployment. Continuous monitoring of entity and associated human female continues. Emotional attachment confirmed as primary leverage point."
The holographic displays shifted, now showing real-time satellite overlays of the San Francisco Bay Area with a tightening grid of surveillance markers centered on Marcus's apartment building.
In the control room, the team moved with grim purpose. Red-sun technology.. once a theoretical curiosity pulled from old extraterrestrial archives, was now the cornerstone of humanity's contingency plan against the solar god who had just revealed himself to the world.
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, Marcus sat quietly with Priya in the dim apartment, holding her close while the weight of the night settled over them both.
The singular king still slept.
But the world was already arming itself with the one thing that could bring a sun-powered god back down to Earth.
Pov switch...
The Goro Otaki Factory.. a sprawling, aging industrial complex on the outskirts of Tokyo... never truly slept.
Even at 3:17 AM local time, the cavernous main assembly hall echoed with the low, constant hum of machinery.
Massive robotic arms moved with mechanical precision, welding reinforced alloy plating onto the skeletal frames of next-generation kaiju-defense vehicles.
Sparks showered like orange rain. The air smelled of hot metal, ozone, and the faint, acrid tang of industrial lubricants.
In the elevated observation gallery overlooking the floor, a small group of people stood in tense silence.
Goro Otaki himself.. the grizzled, 68-year-old founder and CEO of Otaki Heavy Industries, leaned on the railing, his thick arms folded across his barrel chest.
His face was weathered like old leather, eyes sharp beneath bushy grey eyebrows. Beside him stood his daughter and chief engineer, Mei Otaki, a no-nonsense woman in her mid-30s with her hair tied back in a tight ponytail and grease stains on her lab coat.
Two senior military liaisons from the Japan Self-Defense Force completed the group.
All four of them stared at the bank of large monitors that had been hastily patched into the factory's main system.
The feeds were coming live from international partners, raw footage from San Francisco, relayed through secure channels.
The clip played again in slow motion: the lone figure in the black hoodie rising from the bay, catching the kaiju's thrashing tendrils, snapping them, then hurling the entire sixty-meter beast into orbit like it weighed nothing...
The brilliant white heat-vision beams cutting cleanly through its skull.
Goro Otaki grunted, the sound low and heavy.
"Monster," he muttered in Japanese, then switched to accented English for the benefit of the military men. "Not a Titan. Not one of ours. Something else."
Mei adjusted her glasses, zooming in on a freeze-frame of Marcus's glowing eyes. "The energy signature matches nothing in our database. Those beams… they're not plasma in the conventional sense. They're concentrated stellar radiation. Solar. Extremely high temperature and focus. The kaiju's armor didn't even slow them down."
One of the JSDF colonels, a thin man named Tanaka, wiped sweat from his brow despite the air-conditioned gallery.
"We just received confirmation from our American counterparts. They're designating the entity 'Solaris.' No known affiliation. Appeared six months ago under a fake identity in San Francisco. Worked menial jobs. Lived quietly. Then tonight he steps in and does… that."
Goro slammed a heavy fist on the railing, making the metal ring. "Quietly? A man who can throw a kaiju into space has been living quietly? Bullshit. He was hiding. Waiting. Now the mask is off."
Mei zoomed in further on another frame, Marcus's face, partially visible as he turned toward the helicopters. "He's young. Early twenties at most. Dark skin. Calm expression even while fighting. No visible weapons, no suit, no tech. This is biological. Whatever he is, it's in his body."
The second JSDF officer, Major Sato, spoke quietly. "The Americans are treating him as a potential hostile. They're activating full surveillance and asking for international cooperation on containment protocols. They mentioned something called 'red-sun technology' — some kind of countermeasure they're rushing."
Goro barked a short, bitter laugh. "Red sun? They think they can weaken him with colored light? These Americans watch too many comic books." He turned to his daughter. "Mei. What do you think?"
Mei was silent for a moment, her sharp eyes flicking between the footage and the technical readouts scrolling on a side monitor.
"If the Americans are right about the solar dependency… it makes a terrible kind of sense. A being that gains power from yellow sunlight would be vulnerable to a different spectrum. Red light could disrupt the cellular recharge process." She paused, then added grimly, "But building something powerful enough to affect a creature who just threw a kaiju into orbit? That's not a simple lamp. We'd need focused, high-intensity emitters on a massive scale. Satellite-based or ground arrays covering entire city blocks."
Goro nodded slowly, his expression darkening. "Then we start working on our own version. Otaki Heavy Industries will not sit and wait while some foreign super-being decides the fate of the Pacific. If this 'Solaris' ever turns his eyes toward Japan…"
He straightened, voice hardening into the tone that had built an industrial empire.
"Mei. Pull the night shift off the Mark IV projects. Redirect them to red-spectrum research. Use every scrap of data the Americans are willing to share — and everything they're not. I want prototype emitters ready for testing within six weeks. If we can't kill him, we damn well better be able to weaken him."
Mei bowed slightly. "Understood, Father."
Major Sato cleared his throat. "The Prime Minister has already been briefed. Japan will cooperate with the international task force, but we keep our own contingencies. Otaki Industries will be given priority access to classified data."
Goro waved a dismissive hand. "Good. Tell them we'll do our part. But if that thing ever sets foot on Japanese soil…"
He stared at the frozen image of Marcus hovering above the bay, eyes glowing.
"…we will be ready to greet him properly."
Below them, the factory floor continued its ceaseless work... robotic arms welding, sparks flying, the endless grind of preparation for a world that had just become much more dangerous.
In the observation gallery, Goro Otaki lit a cigarette despite the no-smoking signs, took a long drag, and exhaled slowly.
"A sun-powered god," he muttered. "The world really has gone mad."
Mei glanced at her father, then back at the screens.
"And we just became the ones who have to figure out how to bring him back down to Earth."
The Goro Otaki Factory worked on through the night, its machines never stopping, now quietly shifting focus toward a new, terrifying project:
How to fight the man who could throw kaiju into the sky.
Back in San Francisco, Marcus sat with Priya on the couch, her head still resting against his chest.
The city outside had mostly quieted, though emergency lights still flashed in the distance.
He held her a little tighter, the weight of the night settling over both of them.
The singular king still slept.
But the world was already arming itself against the scale that had finally revealed its hand.