The eels lead them to a cove. It is somehow both shadowy and glowing strangely, ominously. Ben shakes himself out to dry, drops of water flying everywhere, and normally Chip would says something about that tendency but not now. Not here.
Chip waves his fingers and stomps his feet, not in an effort to get dry, but because he can feel the creeping sensation of magic. His skin feels like it’s hardening, turning back into brittle porcelain, his limbs disappearing, and soon he’ll be nothing more than a teacup again.
It’s not happening, of course, it’s not. But that’s always what evil magic feels like to him. And this place has the residual energy of something definitely bad.
The eels, being aquatic creatures, cannot follow them onto the shore, but they wait in the water. Patiently.
“Over here,” Ben calls, and he is standing disturbingly close to what appears to be a large cauldron.
Chip shudders, but joins him.
The cauldron, much like the cove, is insidiously luminous, the contents unable to be looked at directly. And yet, despite the light radiating from within it, the cauldron seems dormant somehow.
Then Ben touches it, and the light grows and spreads and becomes absolutely blinding.
—
Part of the jaeger program involves an array of sensors attached to buoys in the water, ready to alert the Isle when and where kaiju surface. It’s not a particularly precise method, implemented early on before Auradon’s contributions, but it’s good enough to tell when–
“Double event!” One of the technicians yell, and it starts and echo throughout the docks, triggering a launch sequence. The jaeger pilots are found and prepped, any repairs or modifications being done on the Hell Jalopy and the Rebel Watcher finished as efficiently as possible, and both jaegers are sent out.
“What do we have?” Carlos asks, from his place at the center of the control room. Arrayed in a circle around him are technicians, eyes glued to monitors displaying the sensor array, the readings from the jaegers, the readings from the pilots’ suits, everything.
“Two class fours, three miles west” someone calls out, already starting up the warning sirens for the Isle. Others are speaking into their headsets, talking to the other technicians on the ground, to the pilots in their cockpits already marching towards battle.
They haven’t had double class fours yet, but they’ve been expecting it. The level of the kaiju appearing have been increasing, as have the frequency. And the quantity. So it’s with dread, but not surprise, that Carlos hears,
“Triple event.”
It’s said in a low voice, but around the control room the roar of action has silenced. It’s said in disbelief, in fear.
“Triple event,” the technician repeats, “There’s a class five kaiju, two miles. Northeast.”
—
A prince touches a cauldron and sets three magicians free. Phrased like that, it really does sound like something out of a fairy tale. But this isn’t that kind of story, not truly, and there was a bit more to it than that.
The prince touches a cauldron, a small tear between worlds, one of many such tears surrounding the Isle. But this one is different; this one is the first.
In that other monster-filled world, three young magicians move quickly, silently, carefully. This is their one chance to go back home, they cannot afford to be stopped now.
With the prince acting as an anchor, a beacon, they know where the cauldron entrance is on this side. The landscape of this world is strange and twisted, the light of whatever scorching star playing tricks on their eyes so used sunlight.
But magic doesn’t need sight, or maybe it grants a different kind of sight, because suddenly Evie can see the exit. A tear too small for the kaiju and their masters to take advantage of, but just the right size for them to escape.
A prince touches a cauldron and sets three magicians free.
—
After that announcement, the control room erupts into a burst of sound, panicked, distressed. A technician pulls up the sensor array onto a larger screen so everyone can see the two symbols representing the jaegers, the two symbols for the class fours, and the symbol of the class five. In a completely different direction, closer to the Isle and incoming.
There are discussions as they weigh their options, the a dozen voices simultaneously speaking. Do they call back the jaegers to fight the class five? But they are already en route to the class fours, they might not make it in time before all three are at the Isle. But if they go after the class fours, the Isle is undefended.
Maybe only one should turn back, split the jaegers, split the defense. But neither of the jaegers can handle a dual event on their own, certainly untested against a dual event of class fours. They’ve never had a class five before, either, they don’t know if a single jaeger will be enough.
There are two more jaegers; empty, but functional. They just need to be filled.
“Have HJ and RW continue towards the class fours,” Carlos says, twice when conversations keep happening after the first time. The control room silences once more, “Prep one of the remaining jaegers, and get two pilot suits,” there is a pause, the silence continues. “Now!” Carlos shouts, no longer himself, completely the head of the jaeger program. The techs scramble into action.
One of them, trying not to undermine his authority but needing to speak out, says, “We don’t have another set of pilots. No one is drift compatible, we’ve tested everyone.”
Carlos stares–not at the technicians, still at work, but listening desperately. Not at the sensor array, symbols blinking furiously. Not at the giant figures of the remaining two jaegers, standing, waiting, empty–He stares, right at that damned painted skull and crossbones.
“Not everyone,” he says, because it’s true. “Not me.”
—
Chip pulls Ben away from the cauldron almost immediately, fearful of what the sudden surge of energy, this sudden awakening of the cauldron means. His insides feel scooped out, body too fragile to stand up against what the wave of magic means. But still he pulls Ben away from the cauldron, pulls Ben behind him, stands ready to fight.
Clambering out of the cauldron are three silhouettes, the only breaks of shadow in the odd distorted beam of light. One of them touches cauldron and suddenly it’s as if the world has gone dark, the difference too sudden and too drastic for their eyes to adjust.
“You certainly took your time,” one of them says, a girl’s voice, flat and unimpressed.
“You’re the prince Carlos sent,” a different girl’s voice says, “The one he calls Auradon,” and the statement piques Ben’s interest, causes him to circle around Chip.
He hears a shuffling sound, a footfall on sand; Ben squints to see, the tall, buff burgundy figure step protectively in front of the other two.
“Yes,” Ben says, empty hands raised as a show of good faith, “That’s me.”
“Well congratulations,” the first girl says, “you’ve found us.”
—
A/N: Ugh, I thought this would be the last part, but apparently not. Mostly because it’s already midnight and my head hurts so I ought to post what I have now.
Preeeeeetty sure next part will be the last. Pretty sure.