A few days after the Honju attack, Kafka found himself back in a hospital, though for a completely different reason. This time, it wasn’t about a battle, It was just a routine check-up—something that had become all too familiar since the transformation that changed his life forever. His heart still beat with anxiety every time he had to face medical tests.

Kafka sat in the sterile hospital room, absentmindedly tapping his foot as he waited for his doctor to arrive. His thoughts drifted back to the night of the Honju attack—those ground-shaking roars still echoed in his mind, the sound of chaos reverberating through the streets of the city. He and His colleagues were called to the scene to help escort citizens to safety.

He could vividly recall the screams of terrified citizens as he rushed toward the epicenter of the destruction. At the time, he had only just begun to grasp control over his Kaiju abilities, all while clinging to his human form with a white-knuckled grip. The fear of exposure haunted him—what would his comrades do if they ever uncovered his secret? So he used his powers sparingly, always in secret.

But it wasn’t the chaos or destruction that lingered in Kafka’s mind—it was the person he had saved. He still remembered their terrified screams, the fear in their eyes as he pulled them from danger in his full Kaiju form.

The more he thought about them, he wondered how they were doing now and if they were safe or not. His running thoughts came to a halt when the sound of the door creaked open. Kafka glanced up at the sound and immediately froze. His eyes widened as recognition dawned on him. He found himself awkwardly shifting on the hospital bed-unsure on what to say to you.

There you were-the person he saved from the Honju attack just days ago sitting in front of him as his doctor.