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Language:
English
Series:
Part 2 of Pacific Rim Double Black
Collections:
Sokoku Fics I Will Die For
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Published:
2022-04-29
Updated:
2023-10-10
Words:
50,503
Chapters:
12/?
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44
Kudos:
59
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2,221

The Legacy of Titans

Summary:

It's been seven months since Soukoku's battle against Raijin and Fujin.

They won, but the cost of victory is almost too much to bear.

 

(a/n) Please read part one if you haven't already- Chapter one is a spoiler :)
Updates monthly

*On temporary hiatus*

Notes:

Thank you Arturia_Pendragon! You'll see an idea or two of yours later on :)

Chapter Text

Darkness.

“Dazai!” Chuuya’s voice, panicked, concerned, faintly heard but not felt. Had the drift broken?

It was silent, save the sound of waves. Crackling? Like static electricity.

And why were they- oh, right. They’d fallen. Part of his rigging had broken, the joint snapped from the impact, and he shook it off. It fell in an odd direction.

Were they-?

The world tilted, filling with crashing sound and hazy light. Panels were still dark, reflecting red instead as the glow intensified.

There was still something they had to do.

He fumbled with the release for a moment, bent on freeing his other arm. The comm was silent, probably broken when he’d hit his head. Bad design, he’d bring that up later.

It wasn’t until he’d freed his hand and torn off his helmet that it registered.

Screaming, high and manic.

No.

Chuuya, what have you-

Power welled at their fingertips, distorting the area, but they didn’t release it. Raijin was getting closer, slowly, warily.

There.

Close enough.

They reached out, pinning the kaiju.

He stumbled as the Jaeger moved, slamming into the display with a groan. His ribs creaked- cracked maybe, they didn’t hurt enough to be broken. It had been a minute? Two?

The console flickered, display dim under auxiliary power, but it was enough. They weren’t done yet.

Power gathering in one hand, weapon in the other (whatever it was, it was sharp; the edge glinted in the sun and the red glare) Soukoku struck. The kaiju couldn’t defend itself; the pull of gravity kept it beneath the water, immobile and stuck to the ocean floor.

He watched in awe as Raijin’s head left its shoulders, the improvised weapon (Fujin’s wing, which they would later find highly fitting and ironic, when they could think a little more clearly) embedded in the ocean floor.

And then, Raijin’s head… disintegrated.

A coughing sound came from the other, harsh and liquid, and he turned, ripping his partner’s helmet off and pressing a hand to a cheek covered in red and black markings. To his relief, the marks faded, and blue eyes focused on him.

“Rest now, Chuuya. The enemy has been defeated.”

The red glow vanished as blue flashed. They nodded and closed their eyes.

It was over.