A titanic girl, dwarfing the surrounding buildings, silhouetted against the white moon, rain dropping on its artificial skin. This was our only hope.
With every step the iron woman took, the ground shook beneath its weight. Bystanders, told to evacuate the area, rushed below it- they could not help but stare up at the colossus above them, built of unbreakable steel alloy. It marched forward, gazing down at the populace below her- but, of course, this was its pilot, not the girl itself. He simply had to be careful not to step on them.
Though a robot, her form was so humanlike that it was unsettling. People simply aren't that big- towering over everything, having to make a conscious effort not to destroy the buildings and people below it. Not everyone trusted the pilot with this insane power- many had chained themselves in protest. And yet, with the oncoming threat, this was the only possibility.
The robot's artificial hair fell low, the rain crashing against it. Anyone gazing up could see only a titanic, emotionless, blank feminine face surveying them, seeming to regard them as if they were bacteria under a microscope- no, an insect infestation. Everything was the same through its eyes- nobody escaped her glance, and her form could not escape anyone's mind. A woman of steel, able to crush houses underfoot- was this our savior?
"Salvation", the robot had been dubbed. A government project to eliminate the monster threat. But why give it the appearance of a giant woman? Was it to reassure the populace, make it seem friendlier? Her stoicness only added to the people's fear. Was it a message to the monster about the triumph of humankind, their power? No, more than that- was it a representation of feminine, caring power over brutality? The triumph of intellect over beast?
No matter what she was meant to represent, why she was built, the people could only marvel in it, gazing up in fear and awe. It was as if a titan from days of old had returned, ready to seek vengeance for being trapped forever. It would take absolutely no effort for this mechanical being to destroy the city around her. And yet she marched forward.
How would it feel to pilot it, such a gigantic, yet human form? Who would be able to handle that responsibility, that power? Many thought the pilot would crack from fear or stress. A few thought the pilot would go maverick, and push around the populace below with his titanic robot. Some feared she would be too human; some thought it'd gain a conscious mind, self-awareness, and a sense of its own power and superiority. It could join the beast. It could claim the Earth as its own, humanity as its servants; the pilot inside its cockpit wouldn't stand a chance against such power.
But none suspected that she actually was conscious, self-aware, and knew perfectly well the chaos she could cause from above, the destruction she could reign onto the Earth. Her metal form concealed a complex system below her. She could feel. She could breathe. She could think.
And right now, she breathed deeper than ever, preparing herself for the combat to come.
From inside her cockpit, you breathed heavily, too. This was it. Everybody on Earth, depending on this victory. If this failed, humanity had nothing left to throw at the aquatic invaders; they'd fall. You focussed your mind, careful not to crush anyone below.
Everything she felt, you felt. The soil below, trembling under her bare feet as you approached the ocean, the forbidden zone. The sounds of the band below, playing a march song to prepare you. Her excitement. Today, her body was an extension of yours- no, you shared her body. You shared a mind. You and the robot girl were interconnected, one and the same.
With a sigh, you turned around, back to the fleeing crowds. Couldn't run away now, so just one glance back at the people you love so, before facing death.
Some watched you, looking up at the robotic giantess savior. Standing at her full height, she blocked out the moonbeams, the rain. Her form was slender, but powerful and mechanical. There was a small crowd gathered behind the safety lines, cheering you on, despite knowing full well the dangers you faced, all of humankind faced. There were grim faces, but also those who forced smiles. Some held up banners with messages of encouragement- there was one with a cute charicature of the giant Salvation.
With no input from you, the giantess raised a hand, and smiled to the crowd.
Enormous, thundering applauses sounded below. The music was louder than ever. She'd brought faith back to the people below- this was the power of human intellect. They could triumph over any threat.
Of course, they cheered for you, not her. They were convinced that you were the only one facing this, going alone to save the world. No, you had your must trusted comrade wih you. She was the one really facing this.
But she didn't mind- even though she knew what the people below thought of her. She had only two things on her mind- keeping them safe, and destroying the creature who tried to threaten them. They had every much as a right to life as she did- and no monster would get away with trying to attack her people, her family, her world. She was ready to kill. And if they saw her as a monster, so be it. If they saw her as an automaton, a weapon, so be it. If they feared her, so be it.
She would protect them, no matter the cost.
While hesitant with her at first, you now trusted this giant girl more than anyone else in the world. She made you feel brave, strong, like you could do anything. In her cockpit, you felt safer than anywhere else, more confident. In her body, you were closer to her than anyone. You knew each other. You were strong together. You knew what made her tick, and that transferred to her.
No more preparation.
As you marched into the rain, the ocean, darkness, certain death, the music faded, and silenced. In her cockpit, you were ready. She was ready.
You would kick that monster's ass.
Anyone watch Pacific Rim? I haven't. Apparently, it's cool, so I wrote a story based off peoples' comments on it, listening to the soundtrack of Godzilla. Her original height was 50 feet, but I decided to remove that, to leave it up to the audience's imagination.