San Francisco – Shin Earth
Prison bars kept Shinoda confined to his cell. He kept himself huddled into the furthermost corner, away from visible eye contact. He drowned out the irritable, freakish screeches of his cellmates that yearned for freedom. He brought his clawed arm up again, staring blankly at the encrypted markings branded into his desaturated, charcoal skin. It was a sequenced code imposed upon him by the Millennian Empire, a number that simply added up with each prisoner. No matter how hard he tried, Shinoda couldn’t mend the scar embedded in his flesh.
If it hadn’t been for the sudden clanging against his metal cage, Shinoda would’ve been lost in thought. He looked up and saw the officer, glowing vibrantly as they usually did. The red patches that adorned their charcoal flesh indisputably coursed with rich nuclear energy. Besides that, the only distinguishing trait that set them apart from the others was the emblem that signified their status. The officer’s searing blue eye pierced Shinoda’s essence. Time was nigh.
The retinal scanner examined the Millennian officer’s singular eye and accepted the request. The lock unhinged and the iron bars slid open. Shinoda refused to budge, but there wasn’t a choice. The officer entered the cell and pulled the prisoner off his feet. Shinoda’s armor cracked from the forceful yank, now brittle from the absence of his divine privileges. The officer tossed him out of his confinement and threw him straight into the metallic pavement, which glimmered with the synthetic diamond that reinforced it. His skull cracked from the tremendous force, but it wasn’t enough to spill his brains out. The guard gripped him by the collar, picking up the twenty foot giant.
They chirped into his ear; today, he would become a warrior.
Upon hearing that, Shinoda’s body froze. His dull blue eye widened with terror. Of all the potential candidates they could have selected… As he was dragged to his inevitable fate, his vision was flooded with past memories. The acquaintances he befriended, the mistakes he made in life, his acquired knowledge about the truth… It was all going to disappear from his grasp. All because he desired a goal that expanded far beyond these prison walls. One that society at large rejected and had been lost to time.
The chrome interior darkened as they approached a narrow hallway. At the end was an iron door that led to Shinoda’s final destination. A transparent digitized keypad appeared next to the officer, who only relied on muscle memory to input the code. The door immediately flung open, which only led to a white tiled, cube-shaped room that dwarfed even the tallest of kaiju. In addition, there was no floor to step on, but a ledge that led straight down. The officer threw the prisoner with all of their strength and left Shinoda to fall to his demise.
The drop felt endless, as he had been thrown from a higher elevation. But everything had to end eventually. He knew he hit ground when his dorsal spines shattered under his back. Shinoda echoed a banshee’s wail, suffering from the terrible agony that wrought on his body. Cracks formed along the rest of him as blood poured from his wounds and stained the pristine tiles.
Shinoda looked up and saw that he was the first one here. But he knew the process by gossip from the guards; there were more to come. And that came to fruition as hundreds upon hundreds of doors flung open across nearly all the wall faces except for the pitch black ceiling. Other Millennian prisoners were tossed off, kicked off, or blasted away by indigo colored atomic fire. Their elevations also dictated which ones would live and which ones would perish. Those who came from a lower elevation suffered grievous injuries and fractured bodies. The others from a higher elevation died upon impact. The unlucky few that were charred by atomic flames were dead before they even touched ground.
The bodies piled up as more prisoners were thrown into the chamber. Soon enough, it became a mound that cushioned those who fell from the upper parts, preventing them from experiencing the luxury of a sudden death. During the drop off, Shinoda tried to escape into the nearest corner; unfortunately, he too became pinned by the ensemble of prisoners and was buried within the heap, caught in the outermost ring. As more piled on, the sheer weight crushed those who were still alive. Shinoda was ill-fated to still cling to life when his lower half gave out.
The number of prisoners depleted, with each of the doors slamming shut behind the guards. The mountain stirred, each of the prisoners trying to claw their way out from the corpses that blocked their way. But they wouldn’t travel far. The pitch black ceiling cracked directly in the middle, pulling the two massive doors apart. Fresh air rushed to fill the chamber as solar light beamed down on them. But the sun was blocked by a large silhouette, one that every Millennian were all too familiar with.
The pear-shaped disc gently descended into the cubed space, hovering over the prisoners. The Millennian carrier’s underside flashed with a brilliant light, prepared to do what it had to. To the naked eye, only a shining sphere descended from the saucer’s underbelly. But for all the Millennians present, they could see the infrared tentacles that shot out from the sphere. Each tentacle branched off into smaller appendages until they became like roots of a mighty oak. Each tentacle lanced into the individual Millennian convicts; and for each one they struck, the prisoners were reduced to cerulean soup.
Shinoda witnessed the horrors that transpired. The mound lightened for every inmate pierced. Their liquid forms flowed to the bottom like a waterfall. Even the corpses were reduced to mesh. He knew there would be a chance where he could crawl out. But there was no point. His fate was inevitable.
Shinoda would never get the chance to see the declining pile disappear.
The infrared tentacle stabbed his body and came out through his back. Immediately, he felt his body regress. His arms started to numb, noticing that they were breaking down into liquid matter. When his deformed arms touched the soup, his consciousness was overwhelmed. He could see the memories of those who had melted, those that didn’t belong to Shinoda. But it paradoxically felt like they were his all the same. Shinoda, or the Millennian that identified as Shinoda, was lost in a sea of memories that were too real to discern which ones were his and which ones weren’t…
The prisoners all became soup. But from this foundation, they would be rebuilt. The Millennian carrier molded the genetic material to its whim. These captives had been stripped of their atomic energies gifted to them by Shin Orga, their progenitor, and their lineage. All that remained were the basic genetic components stolen from Shin Godzilla. With that, the goop began to take form.
The puddle amassed into a sphere, suspended in the air by the unseen infrared tentacles. Thin, leg-like appendages sprouted from the sphere, which also began to take a different form. Similar to the carrier, the sphere became a pear-shaped saucer. It grew eyes, a mouth brace, and defined fingers to stand upon. Once it had manifested, the creature dropped with a gentle thud.
The newborn Millennian shrieked in desperation. Its mind was overwhelmed by the hatred and sorrow of the lives sacrificed to give it new life. The cerulean alien clutched its cranium with two of its lithe tentacles, trying to ease the pain. But nothing could soothe the swelling rage that lied within… At least, nothing the alien biomass could do.
Infrared tentacles lanced into the Millennian’s amorphous brain. The invisible wires pumped genetic programming into its cerebral cortex, wiping the slate clean. It promptly began uploading new material within its mind. The spastic and panicking Millennian biomass calmed down under the hypnotic brainwashing. The teal lifeform tensed as a wild sensation flowed through its body, one that would alter the state of its very being.
It felt its body solidify and enlarge. Two of its tentacles became disproportionately large arms that supported its ever-increasing body mass. The others were retrofitted into smaller legs and a tail. The Millennian’s form altered drastically. The blue-green hue turned a desaturated brown, with its head highlighted with purple. Its former blue eyes turned a devilish yellow as its mouth bore nasty fangs.
As the transmogrification completed its cycle, the idle monstrosity remained stationary. With no emotional reaction from Orga, the Millennian saucer withdrew its tentacles back into its hollow space. The Millennian authorities watched the entire process of events from behind a one-way mirror. They were content with what stood before them.
Another warrior to fight in the war.