Ultraman Legend of the Light Chaser

The man in the wool coat turned around to face the sea, tilting his head slightly to embrace the sea breeze—no subtle change escaped his "eyes." In the distance, the sunset, which should have ended, was revitalized, faintly turning red.

“If they predicted an earthquake and tsunami, then it must happen,” the wool coat said. “Can you smell the turmoil? The volcano has erupted.”

The man in the rolled-brimmed hat paused for a moment, then asked, "Mount Fuji was bombed?"

“I love the cherry blossoms and snow there. After it explodes, where else can you see a beautiful woman in a kimono with half her shoulder exposed, making you tea, with volcanic ash all over her head?” The woman in the wool coat turned and glanced at him: “South George Island, that place itself is an active volcano.”

The man in the rolled-brim hat swallowed hard. So all that painstaking effort and over a century to build a secret experimental material cultivation base, and it was just blown up by a single, unpleasant blast from Earth?

When you recommended the site, you made South George Island sound incredibly safe, secure, and unparalleled, with reinforced structures that could utilize the thermal energy of magma nests... That's not what you said back then!

“I remember we had… a safety device,” the man in the rolled-up hat said with difficulty, “to prevent active geological movements from tearing the base apart.”

He also saw a red line on the horizon, which could not be described as a simple "volcanic eruption"—it was visible to the entire Northern Hemisphere, meaning that a huge amount of sulfur dioxide was sent into the upper atmosphere and even the stratosphere. It was oxidized into fine particles, causing the fading sunset to "reignite"... Not only Vladivostok, but the sunset around the world must have been shrouded in this bright red color.

“What’s there to protect? Only valuable things need to be put in a safe,” the wool coat said. “I prefer this kind of sunset… Do you know the famous painting of the earth called ‘The Scream’? Some scholars believe it is the painter’s memory of seeing the Karakoram eruption in 1883, with the sunset shining on the fjord and the sky as red as blood.”

"I haven't seen it, I don't know," the man in the rolled-brim hat replied.

Aside from those who've been on Earth for who knows how many years, few newcomers are willing to delve into the lives of Earthlings, let alone their spiritual world. Even talking to him about Leonardo da Vinci would only elicit a blank stare; discussing expressionist paintings now would be like casting pearls before swine.

"Did our insurance framework fail?" The man in the rolled-up hat was more concerned with another question: "Or did the Earthlings destroy the base before they left?"

“There was no insurance structure from the beginning,” the wool coat blinked, looking innocent and guileless. “To be honest, I embezzled public funds.”

……

"A volcano? I thought it was the birth of a monster or the resurrection of Orochi." On TPC-β, Yota breathed a sigh of relief.

Strange phenomena appeared in the sky, and a shadowy figure resembling a sea monster loomed in the sea, looking every bit like a monstrous beast about to leap out of the water and devour people. The slow-moving transport ship was emitting smoke, which felt like it was burning Yang Tai himself. After receiving a reply from the information department, he put the strange phenomena out of his mind and focused on confirming the status of the transport ship.

"

"Hey! Hey, can you hear me?" he shouted into the empty channel. "What's happening on the ship?! Hey—!"

Communication with the transport ship was lost. Yang Tai craned his neck to observe the fire, wishing the β could turn into a helicopter so they could rappel aboard and check the situation.

Just then, the β flew further and further away, until the fleet's island was almost invisible. "Don't run away! Fly closer!" Yota shouted to Ralf, who was in the front seat controlling the direction.

Instead of changing course, Kelef reminded Herbert, "Alpha, keep your distance from the convoy. Now is not the time to get close for observation!"

"How can headquarters make the right judgment if we don't understand the situation?" Yang Tai tried to stop him: "Number 202... ah, and Dolphin Number 202, I have to ask them!"

“Number 202 won’t answer you either!” Ralf steered the Beta into the sky. Now Yota could no longer see the fleet at all—the fighter jet was climbing, and Yota was pressed into the flight seat by the acceleration. In this environment, even a simple turn of the head was extremely difficult.

“This is not desertion. My intuition tells me... if we don’t fly further away, we’re doomed!” Ralph said. If it weren’t for the flight suit and helmet, Yang Tai would have easily seen the cold sweat on his forehead.

Yang Tai then belatedly realized that Dolphin 202 had been silent ever since it cursed about the shark meat that Ralf had mentioned—even though they were on the same wavelength as the transport ship!

The rapidly advancing dot on the radar had vanished without a trace, leaving the area that had once marked Dolphin 202 empty. Yang Tai felt his heart skip a beat, as if he were standing on a cliff, a fierce wind eroding the rocks, and an abyss lying beneath his feet, having been discovered.

……

"The volcano on South George Island has been erupting for less than half an hour. Even if it's a once-in-a-million-year volcano, what kind of spread rate have you ever seen that could allow sulfate particles to turn the sky on the other side of the earth red in half an hour?"

The Ministry of Information's announcement was not accepted by everyone; at least in the eyes of scholars in the relevant fields, the announcement was full of loopholes.

However, the staff stationed on South George Island did indeed reply, saying they had observed the reactivation of an active volcano, with glaciers and mud surging into the sky. They were ferrying their equipment onto a boat to escape when they responded.

Fiery lava surged into the blue sky and then crashed into the sea, boiling the icy waters. Pale steam rose above the red and black lava flows, and the ejected material caused South George Island to enter its polar night earlier than usual. The TPC staff who remained to handle the aftermath had to evacuate immediately, as the hell of rock and fire was chasing them.

"I had no idea the volcano on South George Island was this big!" someone mumbled, the voices behind them deafening, as if the heavens and earth were about to collapse. Even if they shouted at the top of their lungs, their voices were barely audible to their companions: "What is our geological research team doing? This is murder! My dog, whom I've had for ten years, is still waiting for me at home!"

"The geological research team is running for their lives with you!" The people huddled around him huffed and puffed as they shoved the heavy equipment into the cabin, making his face contort in anger. "I'm from the research team! Why our dear Mother Earth wants to turn over like this... I have no idea!"

"If you don't know, who else would? Isn't understanding Earth's mother's temperament your bread and butter?"

The instrument collided with something with a loud crash, but there was no time to check. The geological research team member closed the metal cabinet door—he used all his weight to press down on it to lock the latch, and then pulled on the nylon rope to tie the cabinet tightly.

He hummed, "Logically speaking... logically speaking, although this is an active volcano, it's just a 'little cutie,' the kind of raptor that's just hatched. Even if it gets angry and tries to peck your finger, it won't break the skin. It can only rage fiercely, while all you can think about is 'it's so cute.'"

"I don't quite understand your penchant for describing volcanoes as fledglings. Can you figure out how a newly hatched bird of prey can suddenly transform into a giant eagle overnight, as if it's taking hormones?"

“No, at least not now,” the geological research team member turned around and looked at the lava flow. He seemed to see something extremely terrifying.

“We need to…run,” his pupils suddenly contracted, his voice sharp and distorted with anxiety, and only one word remained on his lips: “Run, run—run!”

He was enveloped by a sense of foreboding. In the thick, dark clouds of volcanic ash, there seemed to be a pale blue shadow.

The ghostly shadow made his bones tremble involuntarily the moment it appeared.

Creatures beyond common sense have appeared on this planet more than once, haven't they? Sooner or later, I will see them with my own eyes, just like the aliens and their UFOs are no longer big news.

No one had ever told him that the appearance of such a creature would bring immense fear—he was certain he wasn't a coward who would flinch at the sight of a monster. When Golza appeared, his first reaction was even, "Ah, what kind of traces has such a creature left over the long geological ages?" But why was that azure shadow, with only a small claw and a snake-like tail showing, enough to scare him so much that he wanted to bury his head in the ground like an ostrich?

He was breathing heavily, gripping his colleague who had just been questioning him. His colleague was clearly in no better shape; the weight on his hand was like a sledgehammer, and he was probably losing his balance.

What kind of monster was that? What was it? What kind of creation was it? That shadow hovered...

In the pitch-black clouds, lightning illuminated them, casting their silhouettes.

The shadow stretched out its limbs, wings, and long tail, its body writhing relaxedly like a gliding sea serpent. The fire of magma and the shadowy thunder illuminated every inch of its scales, a crimson light sliding across its skin. Its eyes were blue, and with each breath it spewed forth equally azure "fire."

...Is it fire? Or some unknown substance?

He seemed... He didn't know if he was hallucinating from fright, but he seemed to see faces—more than one.

The faces rapidly approached, leaving a crescent-shaped, pale blue arc on his retina. By the time he realized it, those faces were already looking directly at him. He could see their smiling eyes, reflecting his own image, as if they were the closest lovers, each other the entire world in their gaze.

"Run! Run, run—run!" These were the last words left on the channel, fading into the noisy white noise as the headquarters' call dissipated, as if they had never existed on this planet.

The communications officer from the information department was stunned for a moment. He took off his headset, turned around, and said, "The remaining team on South George Island... signal has disappeared."

"Mechanical malfunction or something else?" the superior asked. The remaining team was being evacuated due to the volcanic eruption; in that suffocating environment of volcanic ash alone, it was to be expected that a few communication devices would be damaged.

"It shouldn't be a malfunction." The communications officer moved his finger, and a crisp keystroke followed. A sharp, distorted sound came from the speakers, echoing throughout the room. Soon, the words reached the ears of everyone at TPC who could participate in decision-making.

As the saying goes, misfortunes never come singly. Before the war with the mechanical civilization even began, some had predicted the dire situation of aliens responding to the call and the reappearance of dormant monsters. Everyone knew that in such a situation, they could only do their best, but the internal reports of the TPC still used the phrase "we have achieved victory," as if the contingency plan was universally applicable.

Soichiro Sawai knew that there were no foolproof contingency plans, especially when dealing with beings beyond common sense. Just like when they discovered the "Sleeping Girl," no one anticipated that the air force base would be attacked by an extraterrestrial civilization as a result.

"How can we cope if we don't even have confidence in ourselves?" He was still sitting in his office, with signals from various departments crowding the electronic screen, and familiar and unfamiliar faces reflected in each video frame.

"It's just a few things happening all at once, what's there to panic about? Will shouting yourself hoarse scare away monsters or aliens?" A familiar face spoke up; it was Tetsuji Yoshioka. Although their ideologies didn't align much, Yoshioka was always surprisingly on the same page when it mattered: "Now, arrange investigations at the Pacific and South American branches to find out what happened on South George Island. Don't you know how to do things outside of the GUTS team?"

The TPC has a massive organizational structure, and when it operates at full capacity, it's like an unstoppable machine. While the vast majority of its resources were invested in the North Pacific theater, it diverted its remaining energy to investigate South Georgia—perhaps a blunder, but its response of using the pretext of concentrating resources to avoid investigation was even more foolish and shameless.

The "gears" started moving, and the air force far away in the North Atlantic received a call from headquarters.

"The warning level for the area between 54°S and 36°W and 38°W has been raised to the highest level. All units are advised not to approach," a mechanical female voice said.

For TPC, this coordinate was already very familiar. Yang Tai replied, "South George Island? It's a million miles away from here. Don't worry, we won't go there. Our fuel tanks won't allow it either."

"When will the rescue ship arrive?" he pressed. "The transport ship is on fire. You should have received the footage by now. And Dolphin 202, we can't capture it anymore!"

A moment later, the mechanical female voice was replaced by a real human voice: "The European branch's support fleet left the port 35 minutes ago. We are locating Dolphin 202's signal. Please ensure your safety."

“Okay.” Yang Tai stared at the white clouds outside the cabin.

Ralph steered the Beta straight above the clouds, and from that height, the fleet appeared as nothing more than a small dot shrouded in smoke.

"Can you see the reflection in the sea?" Ralph asked, intently observing the radar screen. "At this altitude, it should be..."

“That’s all.” Yota’s reply startled Ralf, who stopped talking in surprise.

“The shadows beneath the fleet have disappeared,” he said.

The tension and fear just now felt like a dream, the darkness in the sea like a bubble, and all of this happened in just a few dozen seconds as the Beta climbed. Looking back, the "bubble" had truly vanished, leaving only one ship still burning fiercely. Perhaps the fire was an accident, or perhaps it was related to it.

……

“If circumstances arise that are not in line with the agreement, we should relax the conditions.”

There are many "eyes" in space watching Earth, and the Naga's spaceship is one of them.

When they encountered the tomb keepers from Earth, they made a deal: if the native inhabitants of this planet could overcome the limitations imposed by the mechanical civilization, the entire universe would be open to them—once they proved their potential, they would be able to rise to a higher position, ascending from ants in a petri dish to truly intelligent beings capable of dialogue. The Naga would then reconsider the dinosaur people's demands and seek a more appropriate solution.

"Who do they think they are?" Upon hearing this "agreement," Sato stared into Aiba Yu's eyes and said, "You and a bunch of self-important..."

Are you talking to some kind of creator, savior, or cosmic judge, negotiating terms with them and deciding the fate of a third party?

“They are nothing,” Aiba Yu replied. “They are just a ‘measuring stick’ proposed by a more powerful civilization on how to view Earthlings.”

"Who gave them the right to set the standards for measuring other civilizations?"

"Because they are stronger."

It sounds like a self-righteous hegemony unilaterally forcing things to be done, and those who hold neutron bombs can indeed make countless civilizations in this universe work for them.

But now the Naga seem to be mercifully relaxing the standards, since they also observed the red glow that stretched across half the globe.

The leader, awakened by his people in his new body, said, "The agreement did not address the appearance of other aliens and monsters. Our standards should not be based solely on the outcome of 'humans defeating mechanical civilization.' Perhaps... we should broaden our perspective to the entire timeframe and examine their performance."

"Has your human body made you weak?" someone suddenly asked from behind. "Or has the power of the giants affected you? We have never changed the 'contract' we signed."

The rules set by the "God of the Universe" are far more important than their content. Just as TPC would never use pessimistic words in its internal communications, for the Naga, following the rules is irrelevant to whether their actions are reasonable.

"No one can affect me." The leader turned around, and outside the transparent bulkhead was a huge blue planet, with white storms and gray-black soot intertwined on it.

He remained calm: "I just 'saw' some sights I'd never noticed before."

Dozens of eyes were fixed on him, and the person he was talking to kept his gaze fixed on him. After a while, the other party slowly nodded: "Then start the correction process."

Yuu Aiba had no idea what the Naga people above him were discussing, but even though the Naga people insisted on the condition that "the natives should solve the crisis themselves," he didn't care whether it was "breaking the rules."

He believed that the "shadow" on South George Island and a neutron bomb whose location was unknown were both capable of destroying everything, and therefore he could not leave either side unattended.

[A volcano? I thought it was a monster emerging or a giant serpent being resurrected.] Yota's "thought" was actually quite close to the truth—a monster had indeed emerged on South George Island, and it was no less impressive than the legendary giant serpent.