It was the same thing all over again, he was packing his stuff near that rock formation and then the rocks exploded, the kaiju labeled Thanatos had awakened, he got in his jeep and drove away, but no matter how fast he was, it always caught up to him, be it about 500 meters from the formation or at the base that was about 10-ish kilometers away, if he was lucky to make it to the research station, then they would just bombard it with all the self-defenses they had, it would then metamorphose into something ten times bigger, ten times more powerful and just wreck the station. The same nightmare plagued Gabriel Muntenescu every. Single. Night. That he decided to sleep, as a matter of fact even if he slept at noon he would still wake from that very dream.
It may be the fact that he hadn`t slept for an entire day, well, he hadn`t slept well since the kaiju began emerging, but the coffee helped a lot, he had been without aforementioned coffee for a day and he wasn`t doing so well. Could be the fact that when he went to sleep he woke up because of a nightmare in 20 minutes tops! It may also be due to the fact that his eyes hadn`t left his computer screen for many hours, so long that his notion of time was barely existent he brainstormed and deduced everything he could regarding the emergence event and thought of everything he could, but the answer proved elusive, that was until he had to replace a light bulb. What a perfect time for the chair to break. He was surprised he didn`t break a bone, that gave him an idea, what if the Ambrosia reinforced the skeleton? He noted that on his computer and then all the messages came.
Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!
He was about to go insane, so they remembered now to inform him what had happened "There are good kaiju!","Thanatos is heading further into China", "Ghagon is "under control" in Moscow", said the messages, those Russians and Ghagon, he had a strong suspicion the Ghagon were not under control. He finally decided to actually go outside. See what the team was doing or something. He sure hoped something would happen. Something did. There was no one outside.
Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
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Andrew the Gojifan
- Monsterland Worker
- Posts: 248
- Joined: Sat Jun 10, 2017 10:21 am
- Location: Earth
Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
Last edited by Andrew the Gojifan on Mon Nov 06, 2017 12:04 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Life is a Pay to Win rage game
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JAGzilla
- Sazer
- Posts: 11918
- Joined: Mon Apr 18, 2011 6:45 pm
- Location: Georgia
Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
Eglin Air Force Base, Florida
Two hours later...
Colonel Tobias Moore dismissed the lieutenant, sitting the pile of documents he'd been handed in one of the few open spaces on his cluttered desk. As soon as the office door closed, he drained the last of his cold coffee, dropped the mug onto his desk with a ringing clunk!, and leaned back in his chair with his eyes tightly shut. The last two hours had been... eventful.
For a day and a half prior, his people in the U.S. military's hastily assembled S.T.U. (Sangrazotz Tracking Unit) had been engaged in what was effectively a ghost hunt. Confused and sketchy eyewitness reports had been trickling in all day, but most of the witnesses involved were less than reliable. Many seemed to have been so stricken or confused by whatever they'd seen that they'd waited hours before actually calling it in, by which point the highly mobile monster had long since moved on. It seemed to prefer flying low, which gave radar a hard time, though it did seem to have been picked up a few times. Unfortunately, Tropical Storm Mindy was making up for her failure to cause any notable physical damage by royally screwing with radar returns over a sizable swathe of the region. No, despite the unit's best efforts, there hadn't been a single verifiable sighting of the red-eyed kaiju since its appearance in Cancún on the first night of the Emergence. And then, all of a sudden, that had changed.
Radar operators on both sides of the border with Mexico had finally managed to definitively pick the creature up as it left Mindy behind and came flying in from the Gulf at about Mach 3, making its way over land just south of Corpus Christi, Texas. Interceptors scrambled from the nearest bases in both countries were left behind before they could even get off the ground, and Moore's team had been left scrambling themselves, trying to keep a lock on the monster's rapidly changing position and help to coordinate efforts by both militaries to engage it as it zipped west along the border.
A squadron of F-15s out of Dyess Air Force Base had finally managed to come at the thing from ahead as it started to edge north over central Texas, but confirmed direct hits from twenty AMRAAM missiles hadn't had any discernable effect. And as the pilots had closed in to attempt an attack with their M61 cannons, some bizarre, hypnotic effect had overtaken them, apparently rendering them incapable of fighting or flying until they were miles behind the creature and with no hope of catching up. Moore grimaced as he recalled listening in on the radio chatter during that skirmish, the frantic calls from Dyess's ground control as the pilots failed to respond for over a minute, then the panic as they realized that Lieutenant Smokes was unconscious and spiraling toward the earth. He managed to come to his senses just in time to eject, but not in time to keep his multi-million dollar aircraft from becoming a forest fire that was unlikely to be contained any time soon. And given what had happened when the Mexicans had initially tried to engage Sangrazotz, the colonel knew that they were damned lucky to have gotten off that easy.
Another attempt over Arizona had gone similarly, this time with two of the pilots managing to collide with one another. Only one had been able to eject that time.
And to cap it all off, everyone involved had done a spectacular job of losing the kaiju somewhere over the Sierra Nevada mountain range in California; all indications were that it had landed, but precisely where was unclear. Aerial searches were underway, and having exactly no luck thus far.
Moore sighed, leaning forward to begin poring over the growing stack of reports and assorted information he was going to have to start going through. The day the world's most powerful air force was completely shown up on their own turf by a single animal... and by all indications, Sangrazotz wasn't even bad by kaiju standards. There were whole cities being torn asunder, all over the globe. He suppressed a shudder as he recalled the picture he'd been shown during a briefing earlier, leaked out of 'secure' Moscow; a huge, furry, blue demon surrounded by burning rubble, grinning maniacally as it pulled an old man out of a mangled bus. It looked like something out of a kids' storybook. Where the Wild Things Are, that was what it reminded him of. Well, an R-rated version of the book, maybe. Regardless, how on Earth had it suddenly come to this? What were these monsters, and where had they suddenly come from? It made no sense.
But it was becoming entirely too clear that someone was going to have to start making sense of the whole mess, because more of these monsters were emerging practically by the hour, and the world was being thrown into chaos. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Moore turned to his computer and brought up a map that charted Sangrazotz's flight path. They needed to figure out where it was headed, and why, if they were going to have any hope of stopping it. Assuming they even needed to stop it, anyway; a bizarre incident in Alaska earlier today had some people speculating that some of the kaiju might actually be benevolent.
This thing had already proven to be destructive, though. He'd seen the cell phone footage some teenager had managed to shoot during the Cancún attack; a damned whale suddenly dropped out of the sky right in the middle of a beach party, visibly crushing two people and most of a small building of some sort. Moaning and flailing, it had flattened another kid with its tail, and all that was before Sangrazotz itself had actually landed over top of the scene, the camera man scrambling back while trying to fit as much of the looming beast as possible into the too-small frame.
Twelve people were dead and forty-two injured by the time the creature had finished drinking the whale's blood and returned to the sky. And on that note... Moore opened another window on his computer screen, bringing up Wikipedia. The monster was in California right now, and he remembered seeing something on TV once about gray whales migrating along the West Coast every year. Was it possible that Sangrazotz was headed toward the Pacific in search of more food? He began skimming through the article on gray whales, wondering if the time of year was right for that possibility to be true. It seemed like as good a place as any to begin the process of getting to know his new enemy.
Two hours later...
Colonel Tobias Moore dismissed the lieutenant, sitting the pile of documents he'd been handed in one of the few open spaces on his cluttered desk. As soon as the office door closed, he drained the last of his cold coffee, dropped the mug onto his desk with a ringing clunk!, and leaned back in his chair with his eyes tightly shut. The last two hours had been... eventful.
For a day and a half prior, his people in the U.S. military's hastily assembled S.T.U. (Sangrazotz Tracking Unit) had been engaged in what was effectively a ghost hunt. Confused and sketchy eyewitness reports had been trickling in all day, but most of the witnesses involved were less than reliable. Many seemed to have been so stricken or confused by whatever they'd seen that they'd waited hours before actually calling it in, by which point the highly mobile monster had long since moved on. It seemed to prefer flying low, which gave radar a hard time, though it did seem to have been picked up a few times. Unfortunately, Tropical Storm Mindy was making up for her failure to cause any notable physical damage by royally screwing with radar returns over a sizable swathe of the region. No, despite the unit's best efforts, there hadn't been a single verifiable sighting of the red-eyed kaiju since its appearance in Cancún on the first night of the Emergence. And then, all of a sudden, that had changed.
Radar operators on both sides of the border with Mexico had finally managed to definitively pick the creature up as it left Mindy behind and came flying in from the Gulf at about Mach 3, making its way over land just south of Corpus Christi, Texas. Interceptors scrambled from the nearest bases in both countries were left behind before they could even get off the ground, and Moore's team had been left scrambling themselves, trying to keep a lock on the monster's rapidly changing position and help to coordinate efforts by both militaries to engage it as it zipped west along the border.
A squadron of F-15s out of Dyess Air Force Base had finally managed to come at the thing from ahead as it started to edge north over central Texas, but confirmed direct hits from twenty AMRAAM missiles hadn't had any discernable effect. And as the pilots had closed in to attempt an attack with their M61 cannons, some bizarre, hypnotic effect had overtaken them, apparently rendering them incapable of fighting or flying until they were miles behind the creature and with no hope of catching up. Moore grimaced as he recalled listening in on the radio chatter during that skirmish, the frantic calls from Dyess's ground control as the pilots failed to respond for over a minute, then the panic as they realized that Lieutenant Smokes was unconscious and spiraling toward the earth. He managed to come to his senses just in time to eject, but not in time to keep his multi-million dollar aircraft from becoming a forest fire that was unlikely to be contained any time soon. And given what had happened when the Mexicans had initially tried to engage Sangrazotz, the colonel knew that they were damned lucky to have gotten off that easy.
Another attempt over Arizona had gone similarly, this time with two of the pilots managing to collide with one another. Only one had been able to eject that time.
And to cap it all off, everyone involved had done a spectacular job of losing the kaiju somewhere over the Sierra Nevada mountain range in California; all indications were that it had landed, but precisely where was unclear. Aerial searches were underway, and having exactly no luck thus far.
Moore sighed, leaning forward to begin poring over the growing stack of reports and assorted information he was going to have to start going through. The day the world's most powerful air force was completely shown up on their own turf by a single animal... and by all indications, Sangrazotz wasn't even bad by kaiju standards. There were whole cities being torn asunder, all over the globe. He suppressed a shudder as he recalled the picture he'd been shown during a briefing earlier, leaked out of 'secure' Moscow; a huge, furry, blue demon surrounded by burning rubble, grinning maniacally as it pulled an old man out of a mangled bus. It looked like something out of a kids' storybook. Where the Wild Things Are, that was what it reminded him of. Well, an R-rated version of the book, maybe. Regardless, how on Earth had it suddenly come to this? What were these monsters, and where had they suddenly come from? It made no sense.
But it was becoming entirely too clear that someone was going to have to start making sense of the whole mess, because more of these monsters were emerging practically by the hour, and the world was being thrown into chaos. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Moore turned to his computer and brought up a map that charted Sangrazotz's flight path. They needed to figure out where it was headed, and why, if they were going to have any hope of stopping it. Assuming they even needed to stop it, anyway; a bizarre incident in Alaska earlier today had some people speculating that some of the kaiju might actually be benevolent.
This thing had already proven to be destructive, though. He'd seen the cell phone footage some teenager had managed to shoot during the Cancún attack; a damned whale suddenly dropped out of the sky right in the middle of a beach party, visibly crushing two people and most of a small building of some sort. Moaning and flailing, it had flattened another kid with its tail, and all that was before Sangrazotz itself had actually landed over top of the scene, the camera man scrambling back while trying to fit as much of the looming beast as possible into the too-small frame.
Twelve people were dead and forty-two injured by the time the creature had finished drinking the whale's blood and returned to the sky. And on that note... Moore opened another window on his computer screen, bringing up Wikipedia. The monster was in California right now, and he remembered seeing something on TV once about gray whales migrating along the West Coast every year. Was it possible that Sangrazotz was headed toward the Pacific in search of more food? He began skimming through the article on gray whales, wondering if the time of year was right for that possibility to be true. It seemed like as good a place as any to begin the process of getting to know his new enemy.
"Stop wars and no more accidents. I guess that's all I can ask." -Akio
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Godzilla165
- Xilien Halfling
- Posts: 6078
- Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2012 9:37 am
Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
"You remember why you are there, correct?"
"Yes sir."
"Good, then I shouldn't have to remind you of the consequences that would surely arise, should this information ever get leaked to the public."
"Not at all, I fully understand what kind of stakes are at risk here."
"You'd better, agent Jones, because if the UN were to even suspect that this thing exists, that's it... That's the endgame. Turmoil doesn't even begin to describe the amount of shit we'd be in."
"Like I said, I'm completely aware of the situation at hand, and how serious this is. What, you don't trust me to handle it?"
"...Don't get cocky, Jones, as hard as that is for you. You may be one of the best agents within our entire organization, but even you are susceptible to screwing up."
"Just not as much as the rest, right?"
"Like I said, don't. Get. Cocky. Is that clear?"
"Yes yes, forgive me sir, I was just having a little fun is all."
"Well, in times like this where the whole damn world has been flipped upside down... We don't really have time for, 'fun'. In any case, have you heard about the new one that just recently popped up?"
"Yes sir, and, what are they calling it again?
"Hanjiru. Do you know what that means?"
"No?"
"It's Japanese, look it up in your spare time. But, in the meantime, keep digging up whatever intel you can around there; the more sensitive information that we have on the UN, the more we'll be prepared."
"Sir, are you sure you don't need me in Washington?"
"That won't be necessary, Jones. The eggheads and a group of our men have everything under control here, but..."
"Sir?"
"Call it an anomaly, Jones, but... The energy levels spiked for approximately thirty minutes, last night."
"Wait, you're not saying that... It's stirring, are you?"
"Like I said, anomaly, Jones. That's another word for you to look up."
"I know what anomaly means, I just want to be absolutely certain that we're still in the dark on this. We don't need any prying eyes peeping in on what we're doing."
"Everything is fine here, the eggheads themselves even said that it most likely was from the electromagnetic... Whatever, that's in the air. Plus, the levels have since dropped back to normalcy. We're all good."
"That's nice to hear..."
"Something else on your mind, Jones?"
"It's just that... If hypothetically speaking, this thing was to actually wake up... What would we do? I mean, how could we combat something like that?"
"...I've already mentioned such to you before."
"Yeah, but... At the risk of turning D.C. into a crater?"
"If this thing were to ever wake up again, society, no... The WORLD as we know it would be completely, hilariously, and shamelessly outmatched and outgunned. Hell, such an event wouldn't even go down in the history books, because there wouldn't BE any history books. We need to be as prepared as we possibly can for catastrophe, and if the use of nuclear weapons is our only, clear option... Then by God, so be it."
"...I... I understand, sir."
"There's a famous saying about the apocalypse, Jones, that goes, 'This is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but with a whimper'. Do you wish to see the world go out with a whimper?"
"No...No sir."
"Then keep your head down, do your job, and stay prepared for anything. Are we clear?"
"Sir, I won't let you down."
"Good... And Hayden..."
"Yes sir?"
"Your family...Keep them safe. Whatever it takes."
"I...I will."
"We're done for now. Get to work."
Call ended.
"Yes sir."
"Good, then I shouldn't have to remind you of the consequences that would surely arise, should this information ever get leaked to the public."
"Not at all, I fully understand what kind of stakes are at risk here."
"You'd better, agent Jones, because if the UN were to even suspect that this thing exists, that's it... That's the endgame. Turmoil doesn't even begin to describe the amount of shit we'd be in."
"Like I said, I'm completely aware of the situation at hand, and how serious this is. What, you don't trust me to handle it?"
"...Don't get cocky, Jones, as hard as that is for you. You may be one of the best agents within our entire organization, but even you are susceptible to screwing up."
"Just not as much as the rest, right?"
"Like I said, don't. Get. Cocky. Is that clear?"
"Yes yes, forgive me sir, I was just having a little fun is all."
"Well, in times like this where the whole damn world has been flipped upside down... We don't really have time for, 'fun'. In any case, have you heard about the new one that just recently popped up?"
"Yes sir, and, what are they calling it again?
"Hanjiru. Do you know what that means?"
"No?"
"It's Japanese, look it up in your spare time. But, in the meantime, keep digging up whatever intel you can around there; the more sensitive information that we have on the UN, the more we'll be prepared."
"Sir, are you sure you don't need me in Washington?"
"That won't be necessary, Jones. The eggheads and a group of our men have everything under control here, but..."
"Sir?"
"Call it an anomaly, Jones, but... The energy levels spiked for approximately thirty minutes, last night."
"Wait, you're not saying that... It's stirring, are you?"
"Like I said, anomaly, Jones. That's another word for you to look up."
"I know what anomaly means, I just want to be absolutely certain that we're still in the dark on this. We don't need any prying eyes peeping in on what we're doing."
"Everything is fine here, the eggheads themselves even said that it most likely was from the electromagnetic... Whatever, that's in the air. Plus, the levels have since dropped back to normalcy. We're all good."
"That's nice to hear..."
"Something else on your mind, Jones?"
"It's just that... If hypothetically speaking, this thing was to actually wake up... What would we do? I mean, how could we combat something like that?"
"...I've already mentioned such to you before."
"Yeah, but... At the risk of turning D.C. into a crater?"
"If this thing were to ever wake up again, society, no... The WORLD as we know it would be completely, hilariously, and shamelessly outmatched and outgunned. Hell, such an event wouldn't even go down in the history books, because there wouldn't BE any history books. We need to be as prepared as we possibly can for catastrophe, and if the use of nuclear weapons is our only, clear option... Then by God, so be it."
"...I... I understand, sir."
"There's a famous saying about the apocalypse, Jones, that goes, 'This is the way the world ends, not with a bang, but with a whimper'. Do you wish to see the world go out with a whimper?"
"No...No sir."
"Then keep your head down, do your job, and stay prepared for anything. Are we clear?"
"Sir, I won't let you down."
"Good... And Hayden..."
"Yes sir?"
"Your family...Keep them safe. Whatever it takes."
"I...I will."
"We're done for now. Get to work."
Call ended.
#BotM
-
Andrew the Gojifan
- Monsterland Worker
- Posts: 248
- Joined: Sat Jun 10, 2017 10:21 am
- Location: Earth
Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
"What do you mean Thanatos is near Beijing, the Z.A.R.M radar station estimated that he should take a week to get there, not 28 hours!" yelled Gabriel over the phone
"What!? They`re planning to nuke him? No, tell them to not do that! What do you mean they won`t take no for an answer? I may not be a physician but I know that that radiation will reach Beijing! What do you mean they know?! They`re insane! Hang on a minute I`m getting another call." said a fuming Gabriel. They were going to nuke a kaiju near a very populated city?
"Hello. Muntenescu here., answers Gabriel
"What? Evacuate Paris then, why do I have to give them ideas on what to do? What do you mean everyone`s dead?!", apparently spiders had invaded Paris, not just any spiders but 100 foot spiders or something.
He turns to YouTube. He opens it on his phone and finds what he`s looking for. News from France Live.
"We are live in Paris were a spider infestation has taken the lives of over 750 000 people. How? Well, these aren`t normal spiders these kaiju spiders have been namedAraenomater Gigas, they range in size from 15 meters to 75 meters and are exceedingly lethal. Inhaling a single hair from the smallest individuals of this species has a 75% chance of being fatal, which is why i am wearing this mask." says the news reporter. Huh, this is interesting. The camera pans to a view of the town where spiders were taking out tank after tank after tank.
"Jesus Christ!", says an amazed Gabriel
Ding! It`s a message that reads "We have received reports that Fennikusu has driven the Ghagon out of Moscow. We have reasons to believe they are heading for western Europe"
"Jesus..." says Gabriel again, chances of the Ghagon and the Araenomater meeting and fighting were high. too high.
"What!? They`re planning to nuke him? No, tell them to not do that! What do you mean they won`t take no for an answer? I may not be a physician but I know that that radiation will reach Beijing! What do you mean they know?! They`re insane! Hang on a minute I`m getting another call." said a fuming Gabriel. They were going to nuke a kaiju near a very populated city?
"Hello. Muntenescu here., answers Gabriel
"What? Evacuate Paris then, why do I have to give them ideas on what to do? What do you mean everyone`s dead?!", apparently spiders had invaded Paris, not just any spiders but 100 foot spiders or something.
He turns to YouTube. He opens it on his phone and finds what he`s looking for. News from France Live.
"We are live in Paris were a spider infestation has taken the lives of over 750 000 people. How? Well, these aren`t normal spiders these kaiju spiders have been namedAraenomater Gigas, they range in size from 15 meters to 75 meters and are exceedingly lethal. Inhaling a single hair from the smallest individuals of this species has a 75% chance of being fatal, which is why i am wearing this mask." says the news reporter. Huh, this is interesting. The camera pans to a view of the town where spiders were taking out tank after tank after tank.
"Jesus Christ!", says an amazed Gabriel
Ding! It`s a message that reads "We have received reports that Fennikusu has driven the Ghagon out of Moscow. We have reasons to believe they are heading for western Europe"
"Jesus..." says Gabriel again, chances of the Ghagon and the Araenomater meeting and fighting were high. too high.
Last edited by Andrew the Gojifan on Mon Nov 06, 2017 12:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Life is a Pay to Win rage game
-
Zarm
- E.S.P.Spy
- Posts: 4973
- Joined: Tue Jun 28, 2016 3:21 pm
- Location: USA, East Coast
- Contact:
Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
Location: Uttan Beach, India
The calm water of the Arabian sea rippled, bulged upward, and gave way to the spread crown of a deadly queen. Swept-back brows of canary-yellow, speckled by splotches of brown and navy blue, rose ahead of narrow, reptilian eyes.
A body of contradictions rose from the waves after it- a broad, round jackrabbit body dotted with spines, tapering into four sinewy, narrow limbs. Three-fingered hands bore opposable thumbs, and clawed talons for both feet and hands that could only be described as those of a medieval dragon. Her entire body was patterned in the same colors as the v-shaped crest that topped her head.
At last, a long, majestic tail emerged, carving long furrows on the beach as reverse-articulate legs carried her inland.
As she emerged out onto the sands, she paused to survey her surroundings. Her scales glistened with the freshly-shed sea-water, and her shadow fell well past the beach onto the forest of palms beyond.
Her toes pressed down upon the keel of a beached fishing boat, a broad trawler that could support twenty fishermen or more. As the pressure levered it up into the air, it didn’t even reach her sinewy knee.
There was a young couple, kissing passionately on the beach, who broke off their amorous embrace and fled with a high-pitched, simultaneous squawk. The moon-light shone down on a small lifeguard tower- and the fissure in the sand that Carnaris' rumbling steps opened swallowed it whole. The waves lapped around her ankles, carrying with it the blood of the orca pod she'd gutted for sustenance just offshore.
But all of that was beneath her regal notice.
Carnaris roared, a subsonic, ululating whuff that shook the ground, fractured windows, and included headaches- like the music heard through an apartment wall or closed car window, multiplied by the power of the sun.
There was no immediate response. Good. She had no objection to clearing other claimants out of her potential territory, but a region free enough of infestation that there was no challenge directly upon landfall was a good sign.
Absent-mindedly, she bent down to scoop up the trawler lodged on her claws- turning it over in her vast, scaly hands as she contemplated the forest of palms, and the bright lights beyond.
This island was larger than most, but so long as it served her purposes, it would be hers. And the brood stored within her belly could be born.
She had no affection for the gestating eggs as a human might know it- no love of a mother for her children… but something stirred in her heart. The same pride a drill-sergeant might feel swelling in him as well-trained soldiers marched in their parade ranks before him, headed off to war.
Her fists tightened, and with a splintering crack, the trawler fractured in half, a shower of splintering fragments pelting the sand of the beach. Carnaris hurled the fragments away- one plowing through the trees, and the other flattening the resort building that edged the beach- and roared to the sky again. A roar of triumph; of victory anticipated.
When her territory was claimed and her army birthed to defend it, the Queen of the Monsters would reign supreme over her own kingdom at last.
Location: Alaska/Yukon Border, 63rd Parallel North
After nearly an hour patrolling the Alaskan border, watching craggy, icy wasteland rolling by beneath and giving silent thanks for the deserted nature of potential engagement zones, the authorization to engage had come through.
"All right, boys and girls," Pete had been glad to transmit, "The government of Canada has graciously offered to host this shindig, so it's time to party. Shrike Flight, break by pairs and follow heading 0-3-0, toward Engagement Point One.”
Exuberance had been in Pete’s heart as he hauled back on the stick; a chance for the newly-mustered squadron to finally make a name for itself- to prove, after their first failure to catch Trintaurus, that McChord’s combat unit was a worthy addition to the storied tradition of airlift wings.
The F-15s rolled sideways, then peeled off in pairs.
The plan was simple- strike from long range, far outside and above even the most optimistic estimate of how far that thing might be able to leap. No sense in closing to ranges where it could swat them out of the sky as they passed- just a nice, safe missile bombardment from a good mile out or more. Pete had listened absently to the squadron debating about whether the beast could be classed as an arachnid, and plenty of off-color jokes about the possession of eight limbs, with only half an ear.
The undulating terrain, powdery white contrasted with charcoal grey, quickly wound its way beneath the fighter's belly, giving way to the continually-changing waypoint of engagement point one. Amidst the jagged mountain peaks, one oblong form had stood out among the silhouettes on the horizon, rapidly growing in the center of Pete's windscreen until it became the dominant focal point of the landscape.
"Move to station to and acquire target lock," Pete had instructed, and the inbound formation had split into a wide, equidistant loop around the target, whose arc could be measured in tens of miles.
Pete brought his own missiles live, and got a tone almost immediately. The infrared profile was already programmed in, and the target was hard to miss. He’d waited a 20-count for anyone else that might be making slower progress, then announced, "Shrike Flight, Fox 2."
He’d pulled the joystick trigger, launching his ordinance, joined by every plane in the squadron.
The contrail-streak of missiles jetting out, a dozen tiny white lances, was followed almost instantly by the eruption of fire around the beast's muscled torso. Explosions enveloped the head and shoulders in a cloud of smoke and flame, concussive shockwaves battering and pummeling at the beast's skin and the soft organs beneath.
For the first time since his emergence, Trintaurus had thrown back his head and howled- an eerie, almost-human sound of pain and anger- as if Pee Wee Herman had just lost everything he held dear in life and was screaming to the heavens in anguish.
At the time, Pete had found the moment supremely satisfying. Until the smoke had cleared, and the beast had continued to lumber forward, unscathed, his narrowed eyes and ugly pug-face tracking the streaking jets angrily, but his lower-half continued its uninterrupted, inexorable march as if nothing was going on. Wing 3 had flown across his turn back, tearing into his shoulder-blades with a stream of super-accelerated lead from the Vulcan Gattling guns; a blazing stream of tearing, penetrating destruction... that neither tore nor penetrated, splashing off the broad, glistening back like rain droplets.
Another twenty minutes of the same, and even the ring of AMRAAM explosions roaring to life to envelop the kaiju in a seemingly-painful-but-ultimately-useless garland of destruction had lost its thrill.
Now, he swung his plane around in a five-mile-wide arc, Shannon and Nick in formation on his tail, and prepared for target acquisition and another pass.
He frowned at his indicators. He was running short of missiles- and since he'd kept the attack runs evenly distributed, if he was, everyone else was, too.
"All right, listen up," he called to the squadron. "We've figured out how to make him howl pretty well- now we're gonna play dentist."
He frowned at the next words that he knew had to come out of his mouth.
"We'll be using the Vulcans, so we need a good close pass. I want another bombardment from equidistant positions, and someone's gonna chase it in, and make a run at thing's mouth."
That meant closing in to a much shorter range than he was comfortable with, on a slower pass than the previous strafing runs, to try and acquire a moving target through the smoke.
"Wing 1 will be taking the pass- Wing 2 will take the lead if anything goes wrong. Shrike 2, Shrike 3, you ready?"
Shannon and Nick radioed their acknowledgement.
"All right, one good, close pass from the front. If you've got a shot, feel free to drop an AMRAAM down his gullet. No penalties for a swing-and-a-miss. Then past and firewall it; let's see if we can't singe that ugly ponytail with the blowers on the way out."
Pete threw himself into a hard bank, trusted that both his wingmen were right behind him, and called out, "Shrike Flight, Fox Two!" over the strain of the g-forces. Then he kicked his afterburner to full throttle and raced the missiles in.
A wall of flame obscured the target, and Pete felt the roar thrumming through his ribcage, even over the vibration of the afterburner.
Throttling down, he cast about for a target. The curtain of smoke and fire was enough to obscure even the infrared camera, and he squinted through the hazy vale as the distance to his target rapidly diminished, searching for even the slightest hint of a target to aim his Vulcan at.
He heard the rattling stutter of machine gun fire a full second before he got a glimpse of something dark and pink and squeezed the trigger. A hundred rounds a second lanced out in front of him, at what he thought was the roof of a mouth, and then he heard Nick excitedly shout, "Fox One!"
His own view barely cleared enough to confirm that his machine fire was on target before fire blossomed anew in the roaring mouth- and then they were past, and outbound-
A pencil-thin lance of ruby-red blazed across the sky. Pete's head tracked with it as he brought the F-15 about, whipping around just in time to see one of the F-15s in formation explode into a fireball five times the size that combined munitions, fuel, and materials could possibly account for. A scream across the radio, abruptly cut off in its first half-second, bore horrific testimony to the life lost in the heart of that inferno.
The airwaves erupted into chaos.
"That thing has range-"
"Do we go evasive?!"
"Who was that? Who was that?"
"Boss, what do we do?"
Pete stared numbly as the flames dissipated in the air, any debris it might have left behind scattered so thoroughly in an instant that it seemed as if the plane had simply evaporated into thin air. It wasn’t one of the planes making the run, it had just been one of the mile-distant jets that happened to be in front of the thing. Random bad luck.
He set his jaw and barked tersely into his mic.
"Everyone cease fire, take evasive action. I'm going to radio this in."
The planes broke into pre-rehearsed patterns of evasion, wing-pairs banking off in wide sweeps, pouring on the speed at intervals known only to them, and the base tactical planner, designed to confuse any targeting lock on them.
They almost needn't have bothered. Once the assault itself ceased, the lumbering form that crashed through the icy crevices and rough mountainous terrain seemed to lose interest, plodding mechanically along as if it were some sort of pre-programmed drone.
Pete finished his report back to base, requesting further orders, even though he knew that they would be seeing live camera feeds from each of the planes already. Then, he switched to the squadron-only frequency and quietly asked his crew to sound off.
"Shrike 1, here."
"Shrike 2, here."
"Shrike 3, here. Boss, it was Flaherty."
Pete closed his eyes, teeth gritting. Mark Flaherty- Shrike 6. Dark hair, pale skin, loved to brag about his ancestors' heroic exploits behind enemy lines in the Second World War. Terrible poker player- too many tells- but the best jokester in the squadron. Baseball fanatic, no matter how many detractors told him that the sport was dying out.
Gone, in an instant.
A bachelor, at least, Pete thought- thank goodness for that... and immediately felt like a heel for thinking it. Lack of immediate family for him to notify didn't mean the man's life was any less terrible a loss.... and he was already thinking selfishly.
Expecting to come through this crisis without loss was unrealistic, and probably naive... he knew that hundreds, perhaps thousands, had already lost their lives across the globe. But the first death to strike within his sphere of experience was still a painful blow.
His morose thoughts were interrupted by the crackle of the radio, and new orders.
"All right, boys and girls," he broadcast to the squadron, "Change of plans. Nothing we have's making a dent in that thing, and now that he's proven range and accuracy to counter-attack, this little patch of ice ain't worth dying for. We're bugging out."
"Back home?" Janet Mansfield, Shrike 5, asked.
"No, a PCS. Threat's still up here," Pete answered as he banked his plane around to the southwest. "We're re-directed to a Canadian AFB, where they've got the survivor of another failed air strike. We've got birds, and nothing worthwhile to do with them. They've got experience fighting these things close up. Brass figures maybe if we put our heads together, we can put both to work for us."
Location: Blue Mountains, Australia
With a flicker of gentle motion, the beating wings plunged to the ground, coiling and pooling like molten wax- and with an equally gentle bump, the bowl in which Naleli rode became a great hand, broader than her entire body, tipping her gently out onto the high, rocky hill.
The ridge on which she stood mirrored another across the way, and the tops, jutting shelves, and valley between were filled with a carpet of trees, as far as she could see. Low clouds swirled in the distance, far below her level, clinging to the ground of the valleys like a mist; in the far distance, more ridges rose- not the grassy scoop of Sani Pass near home; the unbroken wall of mountains on the horizon, the flat carpet of moss and grass on the gentle slopes. No, these were fragments of mountains- halves, sheared down the middle, left exposed and spaced apart like gappy teeth… and if there was grass to be seen, it was hidden beneath a majestic forest that clung stubbornly to every horizontal surface- even what little ledges might protrude from the cliff-faces.
Australia, she marveled. So like home, and yet… so different. The air was warm, even at this elevation. And the sounds of the birds in the air were different…
And then a great, grey mound rose up to block her view. Like a melting candle played in reverse, Kavaru’s form rose from the pooled lump his soaring bird-shape had collapsed into. No longer clay, but more akin to stone, Kavaru filled the tree-lined valley, the squat shape of a man- but too broad and too short in proportion to be any man she’d seen, even the fat tourists at the pass. His slate-gray form was made of round cut-outs, discs of varying thicknesses and widths. What held each circular slab together, she could not say- but when she looked at the round hump of a boulder that formed his head, into the two short triangular slits that were his only concession to a face, she knew he was magic. her protector, her champion- her hero.
No; the way that she would become a hero.
“The ants that eat men,” she uttered softly, her irises glowing again from within, “Their nest is here, somewhere.”
Kavaru rumbled, the clatter of stones bouncing down the mountain at the start of an avalanche, as he shifted, his broad shoulders swinging to survey the range of mountains.
“We will find them,” whispered Naleli, “And we will crush them. We will save the cowboys and become the heroes of Australia. And then no one will be afraid anymore.”
Kavaru’s great, round head dipped in acknowledgement, and he pounded his way slowly along the valley with heavy, booming steps. His broad face swung back and forth as he began to scour for the hidden next.
Naleli smiled to herself, turning from the cliff-face. She was hungry, and sore after the long flight. She stretched tired, stiff limbs, and wandered down a gentle, sloping path deeper into the woods. She picked her way carefully- she had no idea when the other side of the mountain might abruptly eclipse her path… but even after several minutes, feeling much more refreshed, she had yet to find anything but deeper woods.
Her stomach growled.
She could have had Kavaru go and bring her food- but she wanted to leave him to his work. She had grown used to fending for herself, taking care of herself; it would hardly do to become dependent on her best friend to do everything for her!
Her stomach rumbled, and she turned on a whim to follow a more steeply sloping path, like a staircase in the leaf-scattered hillside. Sunlight shone down through gaps in the trees, mottling the mountain forest in light and shadows.
She heard the screeching of strange birds, the distant sounds of Kavaru’s rumbling footsteps, and a strange creaking noise, like stretching leather. She stopped for a moment, cocking her head to listen… then shrugged her shoulders and turned back down the trail.
And straight into a pair of slavering mandible.
Naleli screamed.
Location: Mumbai, India
Sanjay Chabra ran through the streets of Mumbai amidst a human tide, arms crossed over his head to ward off falling debris.
Towering over every building in the district, the regal form of Carnaris towered, silhouetted by sunrise and lit by floodlights there were becoming superfluous against the lightening sky. From this distance, a fearsome goddess of destruction rising over Sanjay, she looked to dwarf even the cityscape of skyscrapers to the north.
And while Sanjay knew it was a trick of perspective, he had little doubt that if she continued up into the city proper, those towers would fall before her as quickly as the hastily-mustered army response had.
Small arms fire had simply bounced off of her scaly hide. Sanjay hoped that once heavier artillery caught up- the rumble of approaching tanks had been audible before her window-shattering roar had half-deafened them all- it might have more of an effect... but even if that doubtful possibility proved true, it would do little good for the platoons that had already been crushed beneath her taloned feet.
With a roar like passing bullet-train, a wavering column of force erupted from her jaws and lanced out, yet again, to crash against a small deli like breakers against the rocks. Visible force smashed in the windows, drove tables and chairs from the sidewalk outside deep into the wall, and bowed the crumbling front façade inward all in the initial moment of impact; in half a second, the little deli had been swept away- just so much debris smashed flat against the building behind it.
Sanjay wanted to call the rippling column a carrier wave- but it was enough to flatten cars, shatter street-kiosks (like the one from which, until just now, he had sold iPads), and blast the facades from buildings.
It swept across the city-block like hours of a hurricane in condensed, instant form, and several of the smaller buildings caved in.
And then a packet- glowing, crackling with white lightning, belched out of her mouth, streaking along the beam to slam into a six-story apartment block. The building exploded, shattering into fragments without flame smoke. It simply shattered like brittle pottery, the pieces thrown immediately back, as if by gale-force winds, under the force of the carrier beam. Whatever was behind it on the far side of block was pounded flat, and as coronal lightning, residual charges bleeding into the air, crackled across the corners and edges of all the surrounding buildings, it became the only light; the entire district went into a sudden, sepulchral night.
Her snorts and breathing and the rasp of scale-on-scale filled the air, thick and seemingly from every direction, so that even when she was still, there was no silence. Over this soundtrack was laid the rumble of her footsteps, the wavering roar of her lethal beam, the occasional roar or grunt or howl, and the sounds of collapsing debris, falling stone and metal- distressed structures giving up the ghost, and new targets suffering her wrath. Spreading cracks, and crackling fires added a sharp component to the symphony of devastation, and ash choked the air, leaving his mouth dry and his tongue coated with a thick, bitter paste.
All of that was distant, echoing, disaster layered on top of its author… and layered on top of that were the people. At first, it had been a crescendo of mass-hysteria, people screaming at the top of their lungs as they ran en-masse from her.
Now, the street was a clogged war-zone, and what few were left to flee had no energy for such extravagant vocalizations. Half-glimpsed through the smoke and dust, lit by the hellish orange of the flames here, where the pale, burgeoning sunlight had not yet penetrated the concrete canyons of the rapidly-thinning skyscraper-scape, his fellow refugees moaned and whimpered- intermingled with the moans of the wounded or dying lying pinned, indistinguishable from the corpses, beneath the debris, and the wracking sobs of those who had given up- who had simply sat down on the street to die.
Sanjay limped past such as these at a fast hobble, from the stone chip that had clipped his ankle. His stringy comb-over was plastered all over his mostly-bald head, crusted with dried sweat and blood.
He was making his way as fast as he could toward his brother’s apartment. Vihaan was smart. Vihaan would know what to do.
The street was covered in dust and pebbles, and larger chunks of masonry- some the size of his torso and larger- from shattered and damaged buildings. Broken glass scattered everything like a dusting of snow, and personal items- dropped phones, newspapers, half-eaten food- mingled amidst and beneath the rubble alongside the occasional body.
Sanjay kept an eye out for stray iPads amidst the discards. He followed no real religion- outside of religiously acquiring and playing each new Legend of Zelda game as it came out- but he felt that, under the circumstances, the universe owed him the seed-stock to start rebuilding his livelihood.
He could feel every movement of their attacker through the soles of his feet; the smell of her was overpowering- a dry, spicy animal musk in far greater potency and concentration than nature ever ended. The acrid burn of smoke did the only masking work, for which Sanjay was grateful- he could smell and taste it, obscuring not only some of Carnaris’ potency, but doubtless the other nauseating scents of the massacre field.
The air was hot, and seemed to buzz with a charge that made the hair on his arms stand on end. Sanjay coughed, feeling asthmatic at the particulates in the air, and the movement made him dizzy. He was dehydrated, least; possibly injured worse than he realized. That laceration on his scalp burned with what he hoped wasn’t infection. Everything he touched for support was gritty and slick, covered in a coating of dust and small particulates.
Vihaan’s apartment loomed large in front of him, and Sanjay smiled with relief- until Carnaris’ carrier beam swept over it, blasting out all the windows in a shower of glass. A half-second later, and one of the pulses slammed into the apartment’s front, blasting chunks of the interior and twisted or partial bodies out the now-open windows. What little of the building wasn’t vomited out the now-jammed window-holes trembled, and after a half-second, collapsed backward onto whatever was behind the complex, as the carrier beam continued its merciless sweep across the block.
Sanjay stood starting for a long moment, arms above his head to ward off falling glass, dry eyes blinking, stunned, in the cloud of dust that rose from what was left of the complex.
Then, he turned on his heel, and started to limp toward his cousin Arjun’s apartment, on the other side of the district. Arjun was smart. Arjun would know what to do.
Abruptly, the beam snapped off. Carnaris threw back her head and roared, the same deafening, thrumming vibration that had announced her presence in the dead of night. The first glimpses had been only flickers and flashes, brief, strobing glimpses through the light of muzzle flashes thrown upon her. And then, a form gradually defined by the lights at the edge of the city. Now, she was a shadow against the pale pink and orange sky; the fierce gleam of the swollen sun at the horizon. The attack had been raging for hours, but only with dawn's first light had come the unleashing of this new, fearsome weapon.
And it showed no signs of abating. Even before the echoes of the powerful cry had died away, her head was tracking, malevolent eyes fixing on some unknown target.
There was fury in her posture, rage. This was no tantrum, no animal instinct... this was an act of pure, unbridled hatred.
With a roar, the rippling beam lashed out again- like heat waves from a mirage, constrained to a column- and where it struck, cars were tossed into the air. Pulse-packets raced down the beam, three in a row, and plumes of debris from the neighboring district blasted into the air like shattering matchsticks. More of the city was plunged into darkness as the power died. Carnaris was carving the city apart, piece by piece.
Light, he though. Perhaps she hates light!
Perhaps the military would have the same insight. Perhaps his guess was wrong, and the darkness was only an incidental collateral to the massive swaths of damage.
And perhaps it didn’t matter.
Unless someone did something very, very soon, he feared that there wouldn’t be any of Mumbai left to save.
Location: Marianas Island
Jorje Garcia was a dead man.
Blade had been able to think about little else for two hours' fuming, muggy march. He didn’t even know if that was Garcia’s real first name, but he looked like a ‘Jorje.’ And he also looked like a sniveling, manipulative snitch.
When Semaj had come down to burn his butt over chain-of-command stuff, Blade had been silent- mostly startled into befuddlement by just how wrong the Major had gotten it.
He could only imagine that Garcia, sulking over being ignored, had issued a false report- fed his commander a line of well-spun stories that made Blade sound stupid.
Like a little snipe of a school tattletale, blaming his failings on the kid he thought he could pick on. Well, Blade didn't intend to be picked on.
He didn't resent Semaj; he could respect the come-down-hard-with-lightning-and-fury style of command. He just didn't respect it applied to him. Semaj clearly didn't understand the pecking order that he was dealing with.
But Blade couldn't blame a man for being fed misinformation by a subordinate, or being kept in the dark over classified orders. A man could only make decisions based on what he knew- and those decisions were only as good as his intel. Semaj meant well, and Blade didn't plan to cause him trouble- at least so far as his own sense of initiative allowed.
But Garcia... If Blade found an excuse, he'd end that little son-of-a-
His train of thought derailed abruptly as the undergrowth parted beneath his machete, and there it was- Anomaly 003.
The plant-life subsided for an area just about the size of a baseball stadium-field, surrounded by the not-quite-right vegetation. Little clumps clung to the landscape here and there, but nothing that couldn’t be cleared by hand.
And nestled in the middle was the Anomaly itself. A black sphere fifty feet high, floating about four feet off the ground. Its glossy surface looked like marble or glass, but according to the reports, it rippled like liquid if touched. Ewaschuk and his team had given it a once-over on the first, hasty mission- Blade had heard that the plants had visibly grown between the first arrival and today- and according to their report, the thing was inscrutable to nearly any test they could run. But the one thing they had been able to determine- it was the best flippin’ 3D printer in existence.
Anything the team tossed in, got spat back out a minute later- along with a perfectly identical copy. As far as they could tell, an exactly identical copy in composition and function- except for the fact that it crumbled to dust a handful of hours later. One RPG-launcher had become ten to hold off the hostile wildlife, a laptop had turned into an entire processing-farm to crunch data… a pretty sweet gig that they’d lacked the time to explore more fully.
But the thing still held a ton of mysteries. It wasn’t the only anomaly of nature on the island- last count Blade had heard put ‘em at five so far- but it was the most overt, and the most enigmatic.
Blade gave a low whistle and kept a respectful distance as the expedition fanned out into the clearing, the civilians whining and flopping to the ground to massage aching ankles or pitch their tents so they’d have a place to rest- the military men securing the perimeter and controlled-burning the intruding vegetation to establish a secure perimeter.
“Keep your distance, keep your distance…” Ransikoff cautioned, unnecessarily and under the mistaken impression that anyone was listening to him. “This… thing could be very dangerous. Even the Attuned don’t know anything about it. But they suspect it could be what’s responsible for throwing off the balance of the life-force here, at the center of Earth’s life-force. The kaiju, the strange plant-life, the MetalMonkeys-”
-He’d dubbed them this on the route, giving them the scientific name of apus ransikoffska, and seemed to be annoyed every time that someone referred to them as ‘paladins’ instead-
“-All of it… everything befalling our world right now could be the fault of this… oh, come on!”
His speech trailed off in the face of most residents flocking over to Reed’s tent, where the collected deer samples were under the electron microscope.
Blade chuckled- which itself trailed off as an unexpected chill down his spine. Slowly, he turned to face the unfathomable surface of the hovering obsidian sphere… then took a patrol position a little closer to the outer perimeter.
The calm water of the Arabian sea rippled, bulged upward, and gave way to the spread crown of a deadly queen. Swept-back brows of canary-yellow, speckled by splotches of brown and navy blue, rose ahead of narrow, reptilian eyes.
A body of contradictions rose from the waves after it- a broad, round jackrabbit body dotted with spines, tapering into four sinewy, narrow limbs. Three-fingered hands bore opposable thumbs, and clawed talons for both feet and hands that could only be described as those of a medieval dragon. Her entire body was patterned in the same colors as the v-shaped crest that topped her head.
At last, a long, majestic tail emerged, carving long furrows on the beach as reverse-articulate legs carried her inland.
As she emerged out onto the sands, she paused to survey her surroundings. Her scales glistened with the freshly-shed sea-water, and her shadow fell well past the beach onto the forest of palms beyond.
Her toes pressed down upon the keel of a beached fishing boat, a broad trawler that could support twenty fishermen or more. As the pressure levered it up into the air, it didn’t even reach her sinewy knee.
There was a young couple, kissing passionately on the beach, who broke off their amorous embrace and fled with a high-pitched, simultaneous squawk. The moon-light shone down on a small lifeguard tower- and the fissure in the sand that Carnaris' rumbling steps opened swallowed it whole. The waves lapped around her ankles, carrying with it the blood of the orca pod she'd gutted for sustenance just offshore.
But all of that was beneath her regal notice.
Carnaris roared, a subsonic, ululating whuff that shook the ground, fractured windows, and included headaches- like the music heard through an apartment wall or closed car window, multiplied by the power of the sun.
There was no immediate response. Good. She had no objection to clearing other claimants out of her potential territory, but a region free enough of infestation that there was no challenge directly upon landfall was a good sign.
Absent-mindedly, she bent down to scoop up the trawler lodged on her claws- turning it over in her vast, scaly hands as she contemplated the forest of palms, and the bright lights beyond.
This island was larger than most, but so long as it served her purposes, it would be hers. And the brood stored within her belly could be born.
She had no affection for the gestating eggs as a human might know it- no love of a mother for her children… but something stirred in her heart. The same pride a drill-sergeant might feel swelling in him as well-trained soldiers marched in their parade ranks before him, headed off to war.
Her fists tightened, and with a splintering crack, the trawler fractured in half, a shower of splintering fragments pelting the sand of the beach. Carnaris hurled the fragments away- one plowing through the trees, and the other flattening the resort building that edged the beach- and roared to the sky again. A roar of triumph; of victory anticipated.
When her territory was claimed and her army birthed to defend it, the Queen of the Monsters would reign supreme over her own kingdom at last.
Location: Alaska/Yukon Border, 63rd Parallel North
After nearly an hour patrolling the Alaskan border, watching craggy, icy wasteland rolling by beneath and giving silent thanks for the deserted nature of potential engagement zones, the authorization to engage had come through.
"All right, boys and girls," Pete had been glad to transmit, "The government of Canada has graciously offered to host this shindig, so it's time to party. Shrike Flight, break by pairs and follow heading 0-3-0, toward Engagement Point One.”
Exuberance had been in Pete’s heart as he hauled back on the stick; a chance for the newly-mustered squadron to finally make a name for itself- to prove, after their first failure to catch Trintaurus, that McChord’s combat unit was a worthy addition to the storied tradition of airlift wings.
The F-15s rolled sideways, then peeled off in pairs.
The plan was simple- strike from long range, far outside and above even the most optimistic estimate of how far that thing might be able to leap. No sense in closing to ranges where it could swat them out of the sky as they passed- just a nice, safe missile bombardment from a good mile out or more. Pete had listened absently to the squadron debating about whether the beast could be classed as an arachnid, and plenty of off-color jokes about the possession of eight limbs, with only half an ear.
The undulating terrain, powdery white contrasted with charcoal grey, quickly wound its way beneath the fighter's belly, giving way to the continually-changing waypoint of engagement point one. Amidst the jagged mountain peaks, one oblong form had stood out among the silhouettes on the horizon, rapidly growing in the center of Pete's windscreen until it became the dominant focal point of the landscape.
"Move to station to and acquire target lock," Pete had instructed, and the inbound formation had split into a wide, equidistant loop around the target, whose arc could be measured in tens of miles.
Pete brought his own missiles live, and got a tone almost immediately. The infrared profile was already programmed in, and the target was hard to miss. He’d waited a 20-count for anyone else that might be making slower progress, then announced, "Shrike Flight, Fox 2."
He’d pulled the joystick trigger, launching his ordinance, joined by every plane in the squadron.
The contrail-streak of missiles jetting out, a dozen tiny white lances, was followed almost instantly by the eruption of fire around the beast's muscled torso. Explosions enveloped the head and shoulders in a cloud of smoke and flame, concussive shockwaves battering and pummeling at the beast's skin and the soft organs beneath.
For the first time since his emergence, Trintaurus had thrown back his head and howled- an eerie, almost-human sound of pain and anger- as if Pee Wee Herman had just lost everything he held dear in life and was screaming to the heavens in anguish.
At the time, Pete had found the moment supremely satisfying. Until the smoke had cleared, and the beast had continued to lumber forward, unscathed, his narrowed eyes and ugly pug-face tracking the streaking jets angrily, but his lower-half continued its uninterrupted, inexorable march as if nothing was going on. Wing 3 had flown across his turn back, tearing into his shoulder-blades with a stream of super-accelerated lead from the Vulcan Gattling guns; a blazing stream of tearing, penetrating destruction... that neither tore nor penetrated, splashing off the broad, glistening back like rain droplets.
Another twenty minutes of the same, and even the ring of AMRAAM explosions roaring to life to envelop the kaiju in a seemingly-painful-but-ultimately-useless garland of destruction had lost its thrill.
Now, he swung his plane around in a five-mile-wide arc, Shannon and Nick in formation on his tail, and prepared for target acquisition and another pass.
He frowned at his indicators. He was running short of missiles- and since he'd kept the attack runs evenly distributed, if he was, everyone else was, too.
"All right, listen up," he called to the squadron. "We've figured out how to make him howl pretty well- now we're gonna play dentist."
He frowned at the next words that he knew had to come out of his mouth.
"We'll be using the Vulcans, so we need a good close pass. I want another bombardment from equidistant positions, and someone's gonna chase it in, and make a run at thing's mouth."
That meant closing in to a much shorter range than he was comfortable with, on a slower pass than the previous strafing runs, to try and acquire a moving target through the smoke.
"Wing 1 will be taking the pass- Wing 2 will take the lead if anything goes wrong. Shrike 2, Shrike 3, you ready?"
Shannon and Nick radioed their acknowledgement.
"All right, one good, close pass from the front. If you've got a shot, feel free to drop an AMRAAM down his gullet. No penalties for a swing-and-a-miss. Then past and firewall it; let's see if we can't singe that ugly ponytail with the blowers on the way out."
Pete threw himself into a hard bank, trusted that both his wingmen were right behind him, and called out, "Shrike Flight, Fox Two!" over the strain of the g-forces. Then he kicked his afterburner to full throttle and raced the missiles in.
A wall of flame obscured the target, and Pete felt the roar thrumming through his ribcage, even over the vibration of the afterburner.
Throttling down, he cast about for a target. The curtain of smoke and fire was enough to obscure even the infrared camera, and he squinted through the hazy vale as the distance to his target rapidly diminished, searching for even the slightest hint of a target to aim his Vulcan at.
He heard the rattling stutter of machine gun fire a full second before he got a glimpse of something dark and pink and squeezed the trigger. A hundred rounds a second lanced out in front of him, at what he thought was the roof of a mouth, and then he heard Nick excitedly shout, "Fox One!"
His own view barely cleared enough to confirm that his machine fire was on target before fire blossomed anew in the roaring mouth- and then they were past, and outbound-
A pencil-thin lance of ruby-red blazed across the sky. Pete's head tracked with it as he brought the F-15 about, whipping around just in time to see one of the F-15s in formation explode into a fireball five times the size that combined munitions, fuel, and materials could possibly account for. A scream across the radio, abruptly cut off in its first half-second, bore horrific testimony to the life lost in the heart of that inferno.
The airwaves erupted into chaos.
"That thing has range-"
"Do we go evasive?!"
"Who was that? Who was that?"
"Boss, what do we do?"
Pete stared numbly as the flames dissipated in the air, any debris it might have left behind scattered so thoroughly in an instant that it seemed as if the plane had simply evaporated into thin air. It wasn’t one of the planes making the run, it had just been one of the mile-distant jets that happened to be in front of the thing. Random bad luck.
He set his jaw and barked tersely into his mic.
"Everyone cease fire, take evasive action. I'm going to radio this in."
The planes broke into pre-rehearsed patterns of evasion, wing-pairs banking off in wide sweeps, pouring on the speed at intervals known only to them, and the base tactical planner, designed to confuse any targeting lock on them.
They almost needn't have bothered. Once the assault itself ceased, the lumbering form that crashed through the icy crevices and rough mountainous terrain seemed to lose interest, plodding mechanically along as if it were some sort of pre-programmed drone.
Pete finished his report back to base, requesting further orders, even though he knew that they would be seeing live camera feeds from each of the planes already. Then, he switched to the squadron-only frequency and quietly asked his crew to sound off.
"Shrike 1, here."
"Shrike 2, here."
"Shrike 3, here. Boss, it was Flaherty."
Pete closed his eyes, teeth gritting. Mark Flaherty- Shrike 6. Dark hair, pale skin, loved to brag about his ancestors' heroic exploits behind enemy lines in the Second World War. Terrible poker player- too many tells- but the best jokester in the squadron. Baseball fanatic, no matter how many detractors told him that the sport was dying out.
Gone, in an instant.
A bachelor, at least, Pete thought- thank goodness for that... and immediately felt like a heel for thinking it. Lack of immediate family for him to notify didn't mean the man's life was any less terrible a loss.... and he was already thinking selfishly.
Expecting to come through this crisis without loss was unrealistic, and probably naive... he knew that hundreds, perhaps thousands, had already lost their lives across the globe. But the first death to strike within his sphere of experience was still a painful blow.
His morose thoughts were interrupted by the crackle of the radio, and new orders.
"All right, boys and girls," he broadcast to the squadron, "Change of plans. Nothing we have's making a dent in that thing, and now that he's proven range and accuracy to counter-attack, this little patch of ice ain't worth dying for. We're bugging out."
"Back home?" Janet Mansfield, Shrike 5, asked.
"No, a PCS. Threat's still up here," Pete answered as he banked his plane around to the southwest. "We're re-directed to a Canadian AFB, where they've got the survivor of another failed air strike. We've got birds, and nothing worthwhile to do with them. They've got experience fighting these things close up. Brass figures maybe if we put our heads together, we can put both to work for us."
Location: Blue Mountains, Australia
With a flicker of gentle motion, the beating wings plunged to the ground, coiling and pooling like molten wax- and with an equally gentle bump, the bowl in which Naleli rode became a great hand, broader than her entire body, tipping her gently out onto the high, rocky hill.
The ridge on which she stood mirrored another across the way, and the tops, jutting shelves, and valley between were filled with a carpet of trees, as far as she could see. Low clouds swirled in the distance, far below her level, clinging to the ground of the valleys like a mist; in the far distance, more ridges rose- not the grassy scoop of Sani Pass near home; the unbroken wall of mountains on the horizon, the flat carpet of moss and grass on the gentle slopes. No, these were fragments of mountains- halves, sheared down the middle, left exposed and spaced apart like gappy teeth… and if there was grass to be seen, it was hidden beneath a majestic forest that clung stubbornly to every horizontal surface- even what little ledges might protrude from the cliff-faces.
Australia, she marveled. So like home, and yet… so different. The air was warm, even at this elevation. And the sounds of the birds in the air were different…
And then a great, grey mound rose up to block her view. Like a melting candle played in reverse, Kavaru’s form rose from the pooled lump his soaring bird-shape had collapsed into. No longer clay, but more akin to stone, Kavaru filled the tree-lined valley, the squat shape of a man- but too broad and too short in proportion to be any man she’d seen, even the fat tourists at the pass. His slate-gray form was made of round cut-outs, discs of varying thicknesses and widths. What held each circular slab together, she could not say- but when she looked at the round hump of a boulder that formed his head, into the two short triangular slits that were his only concession to a face, she knew he was magic. her protector, her champion- her hero.
No; the way that she would become a hero.
“The ants that eat men,” she uttered softly, her irises glowing again from within, “Their nest is here, somewhere.”
Kavaru rumbled, the clatter of stones bouncing down the mountain at the start of an avalanche, as he shifted, his broad shoulders swinging to survey the range of mountains.
“We will find them,” whispered Naleli, “And we will crush them. We will save the cowboys and become the heroes of Australia. And then no one will be afraid anymore.”
Kavaru’s great, round head dipped in acknowledgement, and he pounded his way slowly along the valley with heavy, booming steps. His broad face swung back and forth as he began to scour for the hidden next.
Naleli smiled to herself, turning from the cliff-face. She was hungry, and sore after the long flight. She stretched tired, stiff limbs, and wandered down a gentle, sloping path deeper into the woods. She picked her way carefully- she had no idea when the other side of the mountain might abruptly eclipse her path… but even after several minutes, feeling much more refreshed, she had yet to find anything but deeper woods.
Her stomach growled.
She could have had Kavaru go and bring her food- but she wanted to leave him to his work. She had grown used to fending for herself, taking care of herself; it would hardly do to become dependent on her best friend to do everything for her!
Her stomach rumbled, and she turned on a whim to follow a more steeply sloping path, like a staircase in the leaf-scattered hillside. Sunlight shone down through gaps in the trees, mottling the mountain forest in light and shadows.
She heard the screeching of strange birds, the distant sounds of Kavaru’s rumbling footsteps, and a strange creaking noise, like stretching leather. She stopped for a moment, cocking her head to listen… then shrugged her shoulders and turned back down the trail.
And straight into a pair of slavering mandible.
Naleli screamed.
Location: Mumbai, India
Sanjay Chabra ran through the streets of Mumbai amidst a human tide, arms crossed over his head to ward off falling debris.
Towering over every building in the district, the regal form of Carnaris towered, silhouetted by sunrise and lit by floodlights there were becoming superfluous against the lightening sky. From this distance, a fearsome goddess of destruction rising over Sanjay, she looked to dwarf even the cityscape of skyscrapers to the north.
And while Sanjay knew it was a trick of perspective, he had little doubt that if she continued up into the city proper, those towers would fall before her as quickly as the hastily-mustered army response had.
Small arms fire had simply bounced off of her scaly hide. Sanjay hoped that once heavier artillery caught up- the rumble of approaching tanks had been audible before her window-shattering roar had half-deafened them all- it might have more of an effect... but even if that doubtful possibility proved true, it would do little good for the platoons that had already been crushed beneath her taloned feet.
With a roar like passing bullet-train, a wavering column of force erupted from her jaws and lanced out, yet again, to crash against a small deli like breakers against the rocks. Visible force smashed in the windows, drove tables and chairs from the sidewalk outside deep into the wall, and bowed the crumbling front façade inward all in the initial moment of impact; in half a second, the little deli had been swept away- just so much debris smashed flat against the building behind it.
Sanjay wanted to call the rippling column a carrier wave- but it was enough to flatten cars, shatter street-kiosks (like the one from which, until just now, he had sold iPads), and blast the facades from buildings.
It swept across the city-block like hours of a hurricane in condensed, instant form, and several of the smaller buildings caved in.
And then a packet- glowing, crackling with white lightning, belched out of her mouth, streaking along the beam to slam into a six-story apartment block. The building exploded, shattering into fragments without flame smoke. It simply shattered like brittle pottery, the pieces thrown immediately back, as if by gale-force winds, under the force of the carrier beam. Whatever was behind it on the far side of block was pounded flat, and as coronal lightning, residual charges bleeding into the air, crackled across the corners and edges of all the surrounding buildings, it became the only light; the entire district went into a sudden, sepulchral night.
Her snorts and breathing and the rasp of scale-on-scale filled the air, thick and seemingly from every direction, so that even when she was still, there was no silence. Over this soundtrack was laid the rumble of her footsteps, the wavering roar of her lethal beam, the occasional roar or grunt or howl, and the sounds of collapsing debris, falling stone and metal- distressed structures giving up the ghost, and new targets suffering her wrath. Spreading cracks, and crackling fires added a sharp component to the symphony of devastation, and ash choked the air, leaving his mouth dry and his tongue coated with a thick, bitter paste.
All of that was distant, echoing, disaster layered on top of its author… and layered on top of that were the people. At first, it had been a crescendo of mass-hysteria, people screaming at the top of their lungs as they ran en-masse from her.
Now, the street was a clogged war-zone, and what few were left to flee had no energy for such extravagant vocalizations. Half-glimpsed through the smoke and dust, lit by the hellish orange of the flames here, where the pale, burgeoning sunlight had not yet penetrated the concrete canyons of the rapidly-thinning skyscraper-scape, his fellow refugees moaned and whimpered- intermingled with the moans of the wounded or dying lying pinned, indistinguishable from the corpses, beneath the debris, and the wracking sobs of those who had given up- who had simply sat down on the street to die.
Sanjay limped past such as these at a fast hobble, from the stone chip that had clipped his ankle. His stringy comb-over was plastered all over his mostly-bald head, crusted with dried sweat and blood.
He was making his way as fast as he could toward his brother’s apartment. Vihaan was smart. Vihaan would know what to do.
The street was covered in dust and pebbles, and larger chunks of masonry- some the size of his torso and larger- from shattered and damaged buildings. Broken glass scattered everything like a dusting of snow, and personal items- dropped phones, newspapers, half-eaten food- mingled amidst and beneath the rubble alongside the occasional body.
Sanjay kept an eye out for stray iPads amidst the discards. He followed no real religion- outside of religiously acquiring and playing each new Legend of Zelda game as it came out- but he felt that, under the circumstances, the universe owed him the seed-stock to start rebuilding his livelihood.
He could feel every movement of their attacker through the soles of his feet; the smell of her was overpowering- a dry, spicy animal musk in far greater potency and concentration than nature ever ended. The acrid burn of smoke did the only masking work, for which Sanjay was grateful- he could smell and taste it, obscuring not only some of Carnaris’ potency, but doubtless the other nauseating scents of the massacre field.
The air was hot, and seemed to buzz with a charge that made the hair on his arms stand on end. Sanjay coughed, feeling asthmatic at the particulates in the air, and the movement made him dizzy. He was dehydrated, least; possibly injured worse than he realized. That laceration on his scalp burned with what he hoped wasn’t infection. Everything he touched for support was gritty and slick, covered in a coating of dust and small particulates.
Vihaan’s apartment loomed large in front of him, and Sanjay smiled with relief- until Carnaris’ carrier beam swept over it, blasting out all the windows in a shower of glass. A half-second later, and one of the pulses slammed into the apartment’s front, blasting chunks of the interior and twisted or partial bodies out the now-open windows. What little of the building wasn’t vomited out the now-jammed window-holes trembled, and after a half-second, collapsed backward onto whatever was behind the complex, as the carrier beam continued its merciless sweep across the block.
Sanjay stood starting for a long moment, arms above his head to ward off falling glass, dry eyes blinking, stunned, in the cloud of dust that rose from what was left of the complex.
Then, he turned on his heel, and started to limp toward his cousin Arjun’s apartment, on the other side of the district. Arjun was smart. Arjun would know what to do.
Abruptly, the beam snapped off. Carnaris threw back her head and roared, the same deafening, thrumming vibration that had announced her presence in the dead of night. The first glimpses had been only flickers and flashes, brief, strobing glimpses through the light of muzzle flashes thrown upon her. And then, a form gradually defined by the lights at the edge of the city. Now, she was a shadow against the pale pink and orange sky; the fierce gleam of the swollen sun at the horizon. The attack had been raging for hours, but only with dawn's first light had come the unleashing of this new, fearsome weapon.
And it showed no signs of abating. Even before the echoes of the powerful cry had died away, her head was tracking, malevolent eyes fixing on some unknown target.
There was fury in her posture, rage. This was no tantrum, no animal instinct... this was an act of pure, unbridled hatred.
With a roar, the rippling beam lashed out again- like heat waves from a mirage, constrained to a column- and where it struck, cars were tossed into the air. Pulse-packets raced down the beam, three in a row, and plumes of debris from the neighboring district blasted into the air like shattering matchsticks. More of the city was plunged into darkness as the power died. Carnaris was carving the city apart, piece by piece.
Light, he though. Perhaps she hates light!
Perhaps the military would have the same insight. Perhaps his guess was wrong, and the darkness was only an incidental collateral to the massive swaths of damage.
And perhaps it didn’t matter.
Unless someone did something very, very soon, he feared that there wouldn’t be any of Mumbai left to save.
Location: Marianas Island
Jorje Garcia was a dead man.
Blade had been able to think about little else for two hours' fuming, muggy march. He didn’t even know if that was Garcia’s real first name, but he looked like a ‘Jorje.’ And he also looked like a sniveling, manipulative snitch.
When Semaj had come down to burn his butt over chain-of-command stuff, Blade had been silent- mostly startled into befuddlement by just how wrong the Major had gotten it.
He could only imagine that Garcia, sulking over being ignored, had issued a false report- fed his commander a line of well-spun stories that made Blade sound stupid.
Like a little snipe of a school tattletale, blaming his failings on the kid he thought he could pick on. Well, Blade didn't intend to be picked on.
He didn't resent Semaj; he could respect the come-down-hard-with-lightning-and-fury style of command. He just didn't respect it applied to him. Semaj clearly didn't understand the pecking order that he was dealing with.
But Blade couldn't blame a man for being fed misinformation by a subordinate, or being kept in the dark over classified orders. A man could only make decisions based on what he knew- and those decisions were only as good as his intel. Semaj meant well, and Blade didn't plan to cause him trouble- at least so far as his own sense of initiative allowed.
But Garcia... If Blade found an excuse, he'd end that little son-of-a-
His train of thought derailed abruptly as the undergrowth parted beneath his machete, and there it was- Anomaly 003.
The plant-life subsided for an area just about the size of a baseball stadium-field, surrounded by the not-quite-right vegetation. Little clumps clung to the landscape here and there, but nothing that couldn’t be cleared by hand.
And nestled in the middle was the Anomaly itself. A black sphere fifty feet high, floating about four feet off the ground. Its glossy surface looked like marble or glass, but according to the reports, it rippled like liquid if touched. Ewaschuk and his team had given it a once-over on the first, hasty mission- Blade had heard that the plants had visibly grown between the first arrival and today- and according to their report, the thing was inscrutable to nearly any test they could run. But the one thing they had been able to determine- it was the best flippin’ 3D printer in existence.
Anything the team tossed in, got spat back out a minute later- along with a perfectly identical copy. As far as they could tell, an exactly identical copy in composition and function- except for the fact that it crumbled to dust a handful of hours later. One RPG-launcher had become ten to hold off the hostile wildlife, a laptop had turned into an entire processing-farm to crunch data… a pretty sweet gig that they’d lacked the time to explore more fully.
But the thing still held a ton of mysteries. It wasn’t the only anomaly of nature on the island- last count Blade had heard put ‘em at five so far- but it was the most overt, and the most enigmatic.
Blade gave a low whistle and kept a respectful distance as the expedition fanned out into the clearing, the civilians whining and flopping to the ground to massage aching ankles or pitch their tents so they’d have a place to rest- the military men securing the perimeter and controlled-burning the intruding vegetation to establish a secure perimeter.
“Keep your distance, keep your distance…” Ransikoff cautioned, unnecessarily and under the mistaken impression that anyone was listening to him. “This… thing could be very dangerous. Even the Attuned don’t know anything about it. But they suspect it could be what’s responsible for throwing off the balance of the life-force here, at the center of Earth’s life-force. The kaiju, the strange plant-life, the MetalMonkeys-”
-He’d dubbed them this on the route, giving them the scientific name of apus ransikoffska, and seemed to be annoyed every time that someone referred to them as ‘paladins’ instead-
“-All of it… everything befalling our world right now could be the fault of this… oh, come on!”
His speech trailed off in the face of most residents flocking over to Reed’s tent, where the collected deer samples were under the electron microscope.
Blade chuckled- which itself trailed off as an unexpected chill down his spine. Slowly, he turned to face the unfathomable surface of the hovering obsidian sphere… then took a patrol position a little closer to the outer perimeter.
The grace of God is a greater gift than we can truly fathom; undeserved mercy is a kindness humbling in its sheer scope.KaijuCanuck wrote:It’s part of my secret plan to create a fifth column in the US, pre-emoting our glorious conquest and the creation of the Canadian Empire, upon which the sun will consistently set after less than eight hours of daylight.
The Zone Fighter campaign is complete, with all episodes subtitled! PM me if you need a link location.
Maranatha!
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RamshackleRanger
- Futurian
- Posts: 3191
- Joined: Thu Sep 30, 2010 12:37 pm
Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
When the dust had settled into dunes in the ruined city and the moon shone once in the sky, the bed of debris showed no sign of Eon. Naught but the shadow of his devastation lay upon the rubble. When his mourning was finished and he had no tears left to cry, Eon stood and got to work.
By some miracle, he had found an car that had been abandoned with the keys inside. A turn of the key was met by a chorus of sputters and then a low purr. Thank god, he thought to himself. The universe did have some mercy. His foot met the gas pedal and sent them both down the crowded road.
Flaming debris, city-wide destruction, and broken families were the sights that greeted him as he made his way through the center of the city. Five minutes of driving that would haunt him for the rest of his life. He slowed his car to avoid hitting any of the people in his path. Forcing these people who had just witnessed their home fall out of the road made him sick with shame, but he needed to get out of the city. He needed to get away from this chaos.
Chaos that was going unnoticed by the world, apparently. It had been at least thirty minutes with no sign of the serpent. Where was the coverage? Tragedy was something that the media sold like iced cream at a playground, so where were the helicopters, the reporters, hell, even the damned charities? The only attention Eon saw was in the form of a remote drone(Why they sent it instead of a helicopter, he did not know) high above the massive sinkhole that the creature had created when it dove back underground. It was awe inspiring, Eon had to admit. At least mile wide, with hundreds of pipes contributing to a circumferential waterfall cascading into infinity. He could understand why they would prioritize it, but it felt... wrong. There were people in the streets, crying over the dead bodies of those they loved, emaciated children trying to find something to eat. Yet they focused on a hole.
Eon shook his head and hoped someone would let the world know about this tragedy.
*****
"But the vast destruction isn't only trace left by this "Grootslang." Across the entire Gauteng Province, a unique psychological Phenomenon known as Dragon Sickness has quite literally taken the population by storm. Individuals infected seem to have symptoms similar to animals infected by rabies, including but not limited to Intense aggression, confusion, and Kleptomania. We have General Dembe Marais of the North-West province here to give us details on counter measures being taken against this epidemic. General?"
Next to the original picture of a petite, blonde newscaster appeared another of a grizzled African man in formal blue uniform. Dark shadows beneath his piercing eyes gave insight to the state of his psyche. His hat was ever so slightly tilted to the side and his suit betrayed some wrinkling. An awkward pause as the audio made it's way to the general's side made these flaws even more apparent.
"Thank you, Mrs. Merryweather." The general's lips moved out of sync with the accented voice that spoke his words in fluent English. "The Dragon Sickness is something we take very seriously. Our troops are not being allowed within the vicinity of the infected areas, for fear of further spreading. A temporary fence has been erected until a stronger barrier is available. 24/7 drone surveillance is being provided by allies in the U.N., and we are afraid we have had to take action against citizens who did not heed warnings against climbing the fence, but-"
"And were these infected individuals, general?" Merryweather cut in.
The general grimaced. "I'm afraid we do not know of the status of the citizens we fire upon."
"So what you are saying is that your drones could have fired upon innocent civilians? You have no protocols to check whether individuals are infected?"
"What I am saying is that we know virtually nothing about this plague." The general's demeanor became angry and offended, contrasting with the calm voice of the translator. "How it is transmitted, it's incubation period, and whether all carriers show symptoms are completely unknown to us. This is dangerous, and mysterious, and the world is in enough danger at the moment without this plague spreading and if people insist on putting the rest of the populace at risk despite warning we have to prevent them from doing so."
Merryweather was sat straight up, somehow intimidated by a presence hundreds of miles away.
"I apologize, I meant no disrespect general."
"It does not matter whether or not you meant disrespect. If you get it into peoples heads that these selfish runaways are victims, it will become much harder to contain this plague and it will cause even more death. There are enough monsters in the world as of right now, Mrs. Merryweather. Any more that are unleashed will not be because of us, and we can assure you any actions we make are for the sole purpose of making sure that statement is true."
*****
SKRRRRRRT.Eon brought the car to an abrupt stop. Something was wrong. The sight of people around the sinkhole was not something strange in and of itself, but there was something chaotic in the way he saw these three silhouettes at the edge move. Like they were fighting over something.
A large, muscular silhouette; A petite, unmoving one on the ground; and a short outline with pigtails.
Without a second thought, Eon leapt from the car. His heartbeat grew erratic - as erratic as when he had first awoken. His footsteps fell like hail on the pavement. The black slowly faded as Eon moved closer, revealing a large man and a little girl, and what he assumed to be her mother on the ground unconscious. The man, his skin unusually pale and and faded, had one hand on the girls shoulder and his other on some sort of jewelry around her neck. Both had their mouths wide open, hers with a scream sounding from it and his with... Foam? Something along those lines, spilling between his teeth.
As he observed the scene, Eon began to realize what he was doing. He hadn't been in a serious scuffle since he almost got mugged in the tenth grade, and now he was charging in to fight a man who was obviously larger - and at least somewhat stronger - than him.
Worrying about it was a mistake, because by the time he had finished the man was directly in front of him. Eon was going too fast to stop and try to reason, so he simply went for it. Using his momentum, Eon threw a punch at the rabid man's jaw, one which - surprisingly - sent him stumbling. In the chaos of making sure the girl was unharmed(and contemplating his own strength), Eon failed to notice the rabid pull a rebar staff from the debris. In a swift step and turn, the rabid swung it at Eon, who manged to push the girl out of the way before it made a full swipe. The rebar struck him in the still tender wound. It put him on the ground, applying fruitless pressure to the agitated portion.
One thing Eon never realized was how fast a fight seemed to happen when the stakes were so high. The rabid made another swing, this time downwards, but a kick to the knuckles delivered by Eon prevented him making a full blow. Eon had hoped this would allow him to take the rebar, but the rabid held tight. The rabid's weight was a significant force in this struggle, forcing the rebar spear closer to Eons face, a few inches away from being an over-sized toothpick.
Another kick, this time where the man-beast's shin and foot met. It sent the Rabid to a single knee, jabbing the rebar down just close enough so Eon could feel the wind of motion on his ear. He rolled to the side, then into a sitting position. From there, he made a small hop and drove his elbow into the base of the Rabid's skull. Eon was surprised to see that small blow cause the Rabid to tip over, lifeless - until he noticed that each end of the rebar was on a different side of the man's skull.
The first thing he did upon standing was grab the girls' hand and approach her mother. A trickle of blood spilled from the unconscious woman's temple. Using two fingers, he pressed to the mothers neck and felt the rhythmic movement of her pulse.
"What's your name?" He asked the girl, a bit more aggressively than he meant to. She simply sank her head, putting up her shoulders as a sort of barrier.
"It's okay, I want to help you. My name is Eon. Can you tell me yours? Please?"
"L-Lesedi..." She replied, apprehensively.
"Lesedi. That's a very strong name, do you know that?"
She allowed herself a small smile. Eon followed suit, and said, "Your mother's in trouble. We need to get her to someone who can help. Do you think you're strong enough to help me lift her?"
Lesedi nodded in an eager fashion. Eon was patient in guiding the young girl's hand to her mother's back and leg, and gave a countdown so she would know when to lift. At that point all he had to do was place his arms in the crook of the woman's knees and under her head.. His gash burned and ached, but he was certain he would be able to carry her.
"Lesedi," he said through breaths as they approached the truck. "I want you to open the door of that green truck and support your mother's head as we lay her down on the seat. Can you do that?"
Too enveloped to give any confirmation, she jumped to the door and pulled it open with some effort. Eon guided her mother into the car, Lesedi's hands gently pushing upwards on her head. While she was laid down, and Lesedi fastened her seatbelt, Eon managed to catch the attention of a man with a bandage around his arm after a few failed attempts with strangers who didn't speak English.
"Excuse me. This woman is hurt, Did you come from a recovery center? Are they treating people?" He asked. The man shook his head in response. "No sir. The broadcasts say there's some sort of epidemic going around, apparently they don't want to risk infecting anyone more."
Eon's face grew tight with concern. "What kind of symptoms? Rabidness?"
"I'm afraid so. I'm guessing you've had a run in?" Eon nodded. With a sigh, the man said, "You should watch out, then. You don't see the symptoms until it's too late." The two expressed goodbyes, gave wishes of luck and moved their separate ways. Eon stepped into the car, checking in the mirror to make sure Lesedi and her mother were alright, and began to drive to what he hoped was the nearest functioning hospital.
Lōʻihi Seamount, Hawaii
The flames of Soldera's rage had gone in the two hours since the Kaiju had left Pahoa. After reducing the city to a pile of roughly-ground ashes, She had entered the sea, and the only sign of her presence became the steamy bubbles that occasionally rose to the surface from her scalding body.
The Hawaiian government was left to wonder where the massive Seahorse was headed; that is, until a research station picked her signal up near the underwater volcanoes of Lōʻihi. The flames she had produced gave her some energy, but it was apparent that she still required some sort of sustenance.
The underwater camera's displayed her image as she slipped into a magmatic hill, entering a rejuvenation period.
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Andrew the Gojifan
- Monsterland Worker
- Posts: 248
- Joined: Sat Jun 10, 2017 10:21 am
- Location: Earth
Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
Roughly 20 miles away from Beijing, China
Thanatos was furious, whatever the things that attacked him were, they knew nothing. They kept spitting things at him. At best it ever so slightly tickled him. No matter. He knew that they stopped dead in their tracks whenever he prepared his power. That was what he did. the most annoying ones where the one that spat things that turned to fire, it annoyed him to no end. Every time he saw those he was bombarded with fire, sometimes it lasted for half a minute.
"This is our last chance to stop Thanatos. We have 50 missile vehicles, about 60 tanks, two ballistic missiles ready for launch. This will stop Thanatos in his tracks", the order to attack was given. The missile vehicles and tanks fired. Thanatos was blinded. He roared and charged, grabbing a tank by the barrel and throwing it into another tank which rolled into another tank. Thanatos glowed blue. Any tank near it stopped dead in it`s tracks.
"The tanks` circuits have been fried!"
"What?!"
Thanatos had beaten all 110 military vehicles.
"Launch the ballistic missiles!"
The two ballistic missiles launched. Their objective: converge on Thanatos and kill him. The missiles approached, only for something to hit him from the side. A surprise aerial attack! The planes conducted strafing runs, deploying their missiles. Thanatos crouched, dodging two missiles, and jumped, clawing a plane out of the air.
"What in the world?!" says one of the pilots.
"Attention all fighter pilots, the ETA of the ballistic missiles is in 10 seconds. Please leave the area.", says the commander.
The ballistic missiles closed in on Thanatos. 3, Thanatos realized what had happened. 2,Thanatos shields his eyes with a nictitating membrane. 1, everyone overseeing the operations raises up, preparing for their victory. The explosion`s shockwave almost reaches Beijing. Their celebration is short lived. Thanatos comes out of the explosion, not a scratch on him. In a panic the planes come back for a last ditch attack. Thanatos glows blue once more frying the planes` circuits. The operation failed.
Battle report: Casualties : 3 fighter pilots, 60 tanks as well as 50 missile vehicles out of commission.
Results: All defenses of Beijing against Thanatos destroyed
Thanatos was furious, whatever the things that attacked him were, they knew nothing. They kept spitting things at him. At best it ever so slightly tickled him. No matter. He knew that they stopped dead in their tracks whenever he prepared his power. That was what he did. the most annoying ones where the one that spat things that turned to fire, it annoyed him to no end. Every time he saw those he was bombarded with fire, sometimes it lasted for half a minute.
"This is our last chance to stop Thanatos. We have 50 missile vehicles, about 60 tanks, two ballistic missiles ready for launch. This will stop Thanatos in his tracks", the order to attack was given. The missile vehicles and tanks fired. Thanatos was blinded. He roared and charged, grabbing a tank by the barrel and throwing it into another tank which rolled into another tank. Thanatos glowed blue. Any tank near it stopped dead in it`s tracks.
"The tanks` circuits have been fried!"
"What?!"
Thanatos had beaten all 110 military vehicles.
"Launch the ballistic missiles!"
The two ballistic missiles launched. Their objective: converge on Thanatos and kill him. The missiles approached, only for something to hit him from the side. A surprise aerial attack! The planes conducted strafing runs, deploying their missiles. Thanatos crouched, dodging two missiles, and jumped, clawing a plane out of the air.
"What in the world?!" says one of the pilots.
"Attention all fighter pilots, the ETA of the ballistic missiles is in 10 seconds. Please leave the area.", says the commander.
The ballistic missiles closed in on Thanatos. 3, Thanatos realized what had happened. 2,Thanatos shields his eyes with a nictitating membrane. 1, everyone overseeing the operations raises up, preparing for their victory. The explosion`s shockwave almost reaches Beijing. Their celebration is short lived. Thanatos comes out of the explosion, not a scratch on him. In a panic the planes come back for a last ditch attack. Thanatos glows blue once more frying the planes` circuits. The operation failed.
Battle report: Casualties : 3 fighter pilots, 60 tanks as well as 50 missile vehicles out of commission.
Results: All defenses of Beijing against Thanatos destroyed
Life is a Pay to Win rage game
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Billzilla1974
- Interpol Agent
- Posts: 580
- Joined: Mon Feb 06, 2017 2:05 pm
- Location: A portal in time.
Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
20 miles from Anchorage, Alaska.
A news crew who documented the emergence of Ignus Lung has made a temporary rest stop, having gotten caught in the mass exodus from Anchorage.
" Gee, that overgrown salamander sure loves its volcano don't it?" said a camera man, his accent revealing his southern origins.
" Well, from the way it's been crawling all over Mt Spurr, I'd say you're right. The monster hasn't even gone so much as one foot away from the mountain's slopes in the last two hours!" replied a nearby technician.
" Maybe, just maybe this one'll stay put, I sure don't wanna become a darn 'monster hunter' Tom. " The southern born man hoped, having heard about more supposed kaiju sightings within the last two hours.
" Well Dan, from what I can see on the helicopter camera, our fiery old dragon is getting antsy, he might run off to god-knows-where any minute now." Tom, his friend and colleague, responded.
" Wait they sent a helicopter!? What about all the ash??" Dan half-shouted in disbelief.
" From what I've heard it was Carol's decision. I guess she couldn't resist the opportunity for a big sco- " Tom was about to continue, but was interrupted by another member of his crew yelling:
" Everybody, look at the big screen! " Every person within the news room turned their gaze to the large screen in front of them.
Ignus Lung had been moving across Mt Spurr since his debut a couple hours ago. Although he looked as if he was randomly circling the formally fiery mountain without reason, he was, in fact, scouting. Searching the horizon for signs of life that he knew was there, just beyond gigantic his field of vision.
There, a form of life! But one unlike anything he had ever known, it buzzed in the air, only half a kilometer away. How could it fly without wings? Sure, he could fly without them, but he didn't recall any of the 'smaller life' being capable of performing this feat. The sound of metal rotors doing their job was completely alien to Ignus Lung, would this be the sound that finally piqued the Dragon's curiousity?
Yes.
Although he enjoyed his volcanic home, Ignus Lung couldn't control his nagging urge to explore the new world any longer. To the surprise of the newscasters in the helicopter, they could just make out the sight of Ignus Lung jumping into the air a few times. Their surprise turned into outright disbelief at what happened next, The crimson reptile made its highest leap into the still ash-laden sky, and began to undulate his body in a serpentine manner. His overlapping scales began to emit an almost mystical ringing sound, and the dragon kaiju began to soar towards the chopper.
The news helicopter had turned around to head for home when the pilot spotted Ignus Lung heading in their direction through on of his mirrors.
If the draconic beast had truly been evil, the copter would've been destroyed before they even saw him fly. Instead, Ignus briefly slowed down to match the flying machine's speed, gazed into its windows. Now it was the beast's turn to be surprised, Humans!
He could just barely recall the last time he had seen a hominid, around 20,000 years ago, remembering them for their utilization of fire, now they were in metal things that could fly!
What else can they do now? The 400 foot long kaiju wondered in his own, semi-animalistic way.
He would find out for himself, as he moved away from the helicopter and gradually increased his speed to a maximum of Mach 4, heading in the general direction the copter was going, towards Anchorage, Alaska.
A news crew who documented the emergence of Ignus Lung has made a temporary rest stop, having gotten caught in the mass exodus from Anchorage.
" Gee, that overgrown salamander sure loves its volcano don't it?" said a camera man, his accent revealing his southern origins.
" Well, from the way it's been crawling all over Mt Spurr, I'd say you're right. The monster hasn't even gone so much as one foot away from the mountain's slopes in the last two hours!" replied a nearby technician.
" Maybe, just maybe this one'll stay put, I sure don't wanna become a darn 'monster hunter' Tom. " The southern born man hoped, having heard about more supposed kaiju sightings within the last two hours.
" Well Dan, from what I can see on the helicopter camera, our fiery old dragon is getting antsy, he might run off to god-knows-where any minute now." Tom, his friend and colleague, responded.
" Wait they sent a helicopter!? What about all the ash??" Dan half-shouted in disbelief.
" From what I've heard it was Carol's decision. I guess she couldn't resist the opportunity for a big sco- " Tom was about to continue, but was interrupted by another member of his crew yelling:
" Everybody, look at the big screen! " Every person within the news room turned their gaze to the large screen in front of them.
Ignus Lung had been moving across Mt Spurr since his debut a couple hours ago. Although he looked as if he was randomly circling the formally fiery mountain without reason, he was, in fact, scouting. Searching the horizon for signs of life that he knew was there, just beyond gigantic his field of vision.
There, a form of life! But one unlike anything he had ever known, it buzzed in the air, only half a kilometer away. How could it fly without wings? Sure, he could fly without them, but he didn't recall any of the 'smaller life' being capable of performing this feat. The sound of metal rotors doing their job was completely alien to Ignus Lung, would this be the sound that finally piqued the Dragon's curiousity?
Yes.
Although he enjoyed his volcanic home, Ignus Lung couldn't control his nagging urge to explore the new world any longer. To the surprise of the newscasters in the helicopter, they could just make out the sight of Ignus Lung jumping into the air a few times. Their surprise turned into outright disbelief at what happened next, The crimson reptile made its highest leap into the still ash-laden sky, and began to undulate his body in a serpentine manner. His overlapping scales began to emit an almost mystical ringing sound, and the dragon kaiju began to soar towards the chopper.
The news helicopter had turned around to head for home when the pilot spotted Ignus Lung heading in their direction through on of his mirrors.
If the draconic beast had truly been evil, the copter would've been destroyed before they even saw him fly. Instead, Ignus briefly slowed down to match the flying machine's speed, gazed into its windows. Now it was the beast's turn to be surprised, Humans!
He could just barely recall the last time he had seen a hominid, around 20,000 years ago, remembering them for their utilization of fire, now they were in metal things that could fly!
What else can they do now? The 400 foot long kaiju wondered in his own, semi-animalistic way.
He would find out for himself, as he moved away from the helicopter and gradually increased his speed to a maximum of Mach 4, heading in the general direction the copter was going, towards Anchorage, Alaska.
Never forget the Showa Era, R.I.P, Haruo Nakajima 8/7/2017. 
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JAGzilla
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Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
Toledo, Ohio
"Are we there yet?" Chris asked, knowing already what the answer would be.
"Not yet, buddy," Dad called from the front seat, just as he'd done fifteen or more times today. "Looks like it might be a little while, yet. Just keep watching your video, okay?"
A long while was more like it, Chris thought bitterly, turning again to look out the window at the sea of vehicles around them, slooowly creeping forward a few feet at a time, as they'd been for about the last hundred years. He sighed, and put his ear buds back in, turning up his phone's volume to drown out the annoying Taylor Swift song blaring on the radio. It didn't quite work. Mom didn't normally like the radio being turned up so loud, and his parents usually said he was on his phone too much, but they were being weird, today. After some really loud planes had flown over the highway and they'd heard thunder in the distance, they'd suddenly wanted a bunch of noise in the car, for some reason. Chris thought the thunder was strange, because he couldn't see any storm clouds; he'd asked the grown-ups, and Grandpa, in the back seat beside him, had explained that it had come from the tropical storm down by Mexico. Big storms like that could make extra-loud thunder, sometimes.
Maybe that was true, but that wouldn't explain why Mom and Dad were so nervous. He thought privately that it might have something to do with the frog monster. Chris and his family had been at Cedar Point the day it had attacked, and had seen it pretty close up. Chris still didn't know what to make of what had happened. It had been really, really scary, but kind of cool at the same time; he'd never seen an animal that big before, and watching it tear down the roller coasters was like something out of a movie, only real. They'd had to run out of the park before Chris had gotten to ride the Blue Streak, which had made him sad, but he had to admit they'd had no choice. They'd all been really scared because they couldn't find Grandpa; they thought the monster might have gotten him, and it was late that night before Dad had finally found out that Grandpa was in the hospital. A piece of wood from a collapsing roller coaster had hit him in the leg and hurt it, but the doctors said he would be okay in a few days.
After Grandpa got out of the hospital, walking on crutches and with a cast on his leg, they'd gone back home to Toledo and the grown-ups had started packing up a bunch of stuff into boxes and bags and piling it into the car. They wouldn't let Chris watch TV while they were working; Mom had said the TV was broken, but he saw that it was just unplugged. He suspected that they just didn't want him to watch anything about the monster on the news. They were a lot more scared than he was, which didn't happen very often. But then, unlike Chris, his parents always said that they didn't believe monsters were real, so maybe they were just surprised to find out that they were wrong.
Once they were all packed, they'd told Chris that they were going to visit Aunt Cindy in Arkansas for a while. That also weirded him out a little, because they'd told him last week that they weren't going on any long trips until he got out of school for Christmas Break. But he was getting to skip school, so it was fine with him. He liked Aunt Cindy, anyway; she baked really good blueberry pie.
And that was how they'd come to be sitting in traffic on a bridge over the Maumee River. Looking out the window, the bridge's purple lights coming on now that it was starting to get dark, Chris wondered if all of these other people were going on vacation, too; a lot of vehicles were pulling trailers filled with stuff, or had boxes and bags tied onto their roofs. Again, he couldn't shake the feeling that the monster might be involved, somehow. Maybe these people were scared, too. He'd seen something like this in a movie, once, lots of people leaving a city because aliens were attacking it.
Chris wasn't scared anymore, exactly. He'd had a few bad dreams the last two nights, and he kind of wasn't sure he liked frogs anymore, but he wasn't crying or anything. He was seven, after all, not some kind of baby. Really, he was interested in learning more about the monster, and the other monsters he'd heard were showing up around the world. His parents didn't want to talk about it and had kept him away from the TV, but they'd made a mistake in letting him have the phone and YouTube along with it. He wasn't watching 'let's play' videos today.
Turning back to the phone and 'Top Five SCariest real Monster Atacks 2021 NOT FAKE', he watched as a weird thing with wings and red eyes ate a whale on a beach somewhere. It was... creepy. And sad, both for the whale and a bunch of people that had been squished. This was number three on the list; he'd already watched a big lump swimming in the water in some place the video narrator had called Tie Land. It almost crashed into a sailboat, but the boat got out of the way just in time. The lump kept right on swimming. That one had been a little scary, and he imagined that the people on the boat must have been really scared. After that he'd watched a giant red dragon climb out of a volcano. That one had been more cool than scary, really.
Suddenly, his viewing was interrupted by the honking of a car horn nearby. He looked up; other horns were going off, now, loud enough to be heard even over the video and music. Some of the cars were inching forward closer and closer to each other, now, and he saw one driver in a gray pickup truck move out of his lane and squeeze between the surrounding cars to try and move up.
"What's going on?" Chris asked, pulling out his earbuds. His parents didn't answer; they were whispering urgently to each other, and then Mom gasped, covering her mouth with a hand and pointing out the window with the other. Chris sat up straight in his seat, craning his neck to try and see what she was pointing at... and there it was. A familiar, yellow-and-purple shape, impossibly big even from far away, was moving up the river toward them, water that would be way over any person's head splashing around its feet as if it were walking through a puddle.
"Oh, jeez," groaned Grandpa. "Oh, no, we've gotta get off the bridge. Isn't there any way through?"
"Not yet," Dad replied, hunched forward in his seat and gripping the steering wheel tightly. "A bunch of these idiots tried to pass each other at the same time and got stuck, we have to wait for them to untangle themselves...God, shut this off!" he snarled, jabbing the radio's volume button angrily and turning off the music.
Even as that sound went away, another was rising to take its place, quickly becoming louder. A rumbling, chopping sound that Chris recognized after a moment: helicopters. A lot of them, from the sound of it. Turning to look out Grandpa's window on the driver's side, he saw them coming, ten big, green Army helicopters, all kinds of guns and bombs hanging off of their wings.
"Are they going to fight the monster?" Chris asked, becoming a little nervous, now. "Are those like the helicopters you rode in in Vietnam, Grandpa? Do they have M-60 machine guns?" He remembered the old pictures Grandpa had shown him a few times, and the stories he'd told about his time fighting bad guys in a faraway jungle. They suddenly seemed a lot more real and serious to him than they ever had before. On the road around him, he saw that some people were getting out of their stopped cars and running, now, and others were taking pictures or videos with their phones.
"These ones have weapons a lot more powerful than that," Grandpa replied grimly, shaking his head. "They must be crazy or desperate, bringing Apaches in over an area full of civilians like this!"
"Maybe both," Mom said quietly. "But they don't have any choice, do they? I mean, that thing will ki- um, do a lot of damage anyway, won't it?"
"Not if the helicopters shoot it, right?" Chris piped up. "Do you think they can stop it, Grandpa?"
"We'll see," the old man murmured, shaking his head again. The copters had passed over the bridge, now, the roar of their rotors almost deafening. Looking back down the river, Chris saw the frog still advancing, quite a bit closer than it had been a minute ago. He saw it pause as the Apaches closed in, its big green eyes clearly watching the flying machines. Frogs couldn't really move their faces to show their emotions like people could, but somehow this one was still staring at the helicopters in a very mean, angry way. He could hear it making low, growling noises.
Then the helicopters attacked! Smoke billowing everywhere, a bunch of missiles launched from their wings, streaking toward the monster-
KA-CHOOOM!
Chris screamed in surprise, clapping his hands over his ears; he saw the grown-ups doing the same. The explosion was by far the loudest sound he'd ever heard in his life. Some of the fireworks he'd seen on the Fourth of July had been loud, but this was like every firework he'd ever heard rolled into one. The whole bridge seemed to sway from the force of the blast. Huge, blindingly bright fireballs erupted all over the frog's body, totally hiding it for several seconds.
"It's okay, Chris!" he heard his mom yelling, though her voice seemed faint and far away. "Don't worry, it'll be over soon! I think they got it!"
But she was wrong. As the smoke and fire began to clear, the monster emerged again, still walking forward like nothing had happened. It didn't look hurt at all- just even madder than before. It opened its mouth and let out a huge, croaking roar, just as loud as the explosions had been. And then something else came out of its mouth: a long, pink tongue that snapped out so quickly that Chris barely even saw it move. It slapped against the front of one of the helicopters, sticking to it, and yanked the machine right out of the air and back into that huge, yawning mouth. The frog bit down hard, and the helicopter exploded. The frog's mouth opened again, chunks of burning wreckage raining down into the river below. It shook its head, looking surprised, and made a sound sort of like coughing.
The other helicopters backed off to get away from the tongue, firing more missiles as they did. Most struck the frog, others missed and blew apart trees and buildings on the ground. The terrible noise rolled on and on, no easier to take even now that Chris was expecting it. He was shaking, and realized that tears were running down his face. He had to admit it, now: he was afraid.
With the helicopters out of its reach, the frog couldn't get them with its tongue, but that didn't stop it. It crouched down a bit, tensing its muscles, and then suddenly fired its massive back legs and leaped, sailing high into the air with its clawed front feet outstretched- another helicopter disappeared in a raging fireball as the frog smashed into it. An instant later, the gigantic animal crashed back down onto the ground, now far away from the river-
WHAMMM!
This time the bridge really did shake, so hard that the cars all bounced off of the road a little bit. Chris's head slammed into the window beside him, and an explosion of pain blocked everything else out for a while. Dizzy and crying again, he sat limp in his seat, unable to move or think. He felt Grandpa's hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him.
"Chris!" he called. "Are you okay?! Say something!"
Starting to come to his senses, Chris managed to sit up, rubbing his sore head. "Yeah..." he managed to reply through the tears, sniffing and wiping his nose on his arm. "Ow. My head hurts..."
"Don't worry, honey, you'll be okay!" Mom was saying, now. "Look, we're moving! We can get away!" And she was right. Looking out the window, Chris saw that the shaking bridge had knocked the stuck cars apart and created enough room for their car to fit through, and now they were making their way slowly forward, dodging around the cars that had been left behind by their owners.
Another thunderous roar brought his attention back to the monster, and he saw it looming over a bunch of houses alongside the river, sweeping its front feet along the ground and smashing the buildings like sand castles. Then there was a new sound:
BAMBAMBAMBAMBAM!
The rest of the helicopters had moved to the other side of the monster, and were backing away in the direction that he knew Lake Erie was in, the direction the monster had come from. The machine guns on their chins were firing steadily, streams of bullets pelting the monster's slimy, yellow skin- and Chris could see them bouncing off. The monster clearly wasn't hurt, but it turned back toward them anyway, making a short hop forward (the bridge shuddered again, but not as badly this time) and snapped out its tongue again. It didn't stick to a helicopter this time but just smacked one out of the air; the machine spun out of control and crashed into a church among the houses. Another huge fireball rose high into the air, smoke and dust covering the whole area.
The other helicopters backed out of reach again, still shooting; Mom screamed as one of the bullets bounced off the frog and came streaking toward the bridge; it smashed through another car's window and the driver fell back in his seat, unmoving. His car came to a stop.
The frog stared at the helicopters for a few seconds, glancing back in the direction of the bridge once. It didn't look like it wanted to follow them. And then it suddenly took a deep breath, its mostly-purple throat expanding like a balloon-
"GUURRRR-OOOOOMMM!"
Quite suddenly, Chris found out that there was a sound louder than the explosions. He didn't scream, this time, but just flopped over in his seat and leaned against Grandpa, totally stunned by the frog's incredible croak. He realized dimly that he couldn't hear anything anymore, just sort of a ringing in his ears. The car had stopped, Dad holding his ears and shaking.
A minute or two passed before they could do anything; Dad managed to get the car going again and they slowly drove on, finally leaving the bridge behind. Chris was able to sit up and look out the back window. He couldn't see any more helicopters, and the frog was lumbering back into the river. A faint cracking and crunching announced that Chris's hearing was returning... and that the bridge was being torn apart as the monster plowed through it and continued on its way. Dad made a turn and the surrounding buildings and trees blocked Chris's view of the monster. They'd gotten away. Massaging the lump growing on his head, he belatedly noticed that his phone had fallen to the floor, another video about monsters now playing. He didn't pick it up. He'd seen enough of monsters to last him a while, now.
Last edited by JAGzilla on Wed Nov 08, 2017 9:47 am, edited 1 time in total.
"Stop wars and no more accidents. I guess that's all I can ask." -Akio
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Zarm
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Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
Elizabeth spared a smile that was more like a grimace to the growing crowd gathering around her. She didn't like being the center of attention at the best of times, but when she was trying to focus on her work...
"You know, all the attention is flattering," she said aloud, eyes still pressed to the microscope lenses, "But I really think that one or two can do this job just fine. We do have an enormous, otherworldly black sphere of mystery hovering right over there," she just waved vaguely with her right hand. "Perhaps some of you would like to go investigate that?"
She heard a few mutterings and the air of disgruntled co-workers, and suspected that she might once again have insulted her colleagues without meaning to... but at the moment, she was a bit too wrapped up in what the microscope was revealing to her to pay it much mind.
The Marianasium and the biological tissues were entwined and intermingled. How it interacted with the skeletal structure, she didn't have the resources to say, and the blood sample wasn't enough to determine the presence of ambrosia in the bloodstream or tissues. She need better samples.
But already, the way that the DNA Helixes themselves seemed to be in some way reinforced by the mysterious compound suggested a biological fortitude almost unheard-of in nature. For all their appearance of being twisted mutations, these animals could be practically immortal under the right conditions- more resistant to disease, genetic damage, or age degradation than any life form on Earth. Natural decay from solar radiation, or even more man-made radiation sources, would have little-to-no effect on their cellular structure. This place was an invaluable font of knowledge that could change living conditions for all mankind...
The sound of low rustling in the trees ringing the clearing brought her head up for just a moment.
...If there was anything left of the outside world to be enlightened by it, and if the island didn't successfully kill them all first.
"You know, all the attention is flattering," she said aloud, eyes still pressed to the microscope lenses, "But I really think that one or two can do this job just fine. We do have an enormous, otherworldly black sphere of mystery hovering right over there," she just waved vaguely with her right hand. "Perhaps some of you would like to go investigate that?"
She heard a few mutterings and the air of disgruntled co-workers, and suspected that she might once again have insulted her colleagues without meaning to... but at the moment, she was a bit too wrapped up in what the microscope was revealing to her to pay it much mind.
The Marianasium and the biological tissues were entwined and intermingled. How it interacted with the skeletal structure, she didn't have the resources to say, and the blood sample wasn't enough to determine the presence of ambrosia in the bloodstream or tissues. She need better samples.
But already, the way that the DNA Helixes themselves seemed to be in some way reinforced by the mysterious compound suggested a biological fortitude almost unheard-of in nature. For all their appearance of being twisted mutations, these animals could be practically immortal under the right conditions- more resistant to disease, genetic damage, or age degradation than any life form on Earth. Natural decay from solar radiation, or even more man-made radiation sources, would have little-to-no effect on their cellular structure. This place was an invaluable font of knowledge that could change living conditions for all mankind...
The sound of low rustling in the trees ringing the clearing brought her head up for just a moment.
...If there was anything left of the outside world to be enlightened by it, and if the island didn't successfully kill them all first.
The grace of God is a greater gift than we can truly fathom; undeserved mercy is a kindness humbling in its sheer scope.KaijuCanuck wrote:It’s part of my secret plan to create a fifth column in the US, pre-emoting our glorious conquest and the creation of the Canadian Empire, upon which the sun will consistently set after less than eight hours of daylight.
The Zone Fighter campaign is complete, with all episodes subtitled! PM me if you need a link location.
Maranatha!
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Andrew the Gojifan
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Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
Beijing, China
"I want the Marianasium and Ambrosia loaded and out of the city before that thing comes here!" yells the head researcher of the Beijing Institute of Science.
One of the scientist stops loading the crates of Marianasium and Ambrosia.
"Do you hear that ?" says the scientist, now that he spoke of it there was a very faint, crashing noise and i was getting closer and closer. Oh no...
Thanatos roared as he smashes through another skyscraper, he senses the very thing that he desires, he is getting closer and closer. He roars as his senses go wild and there it was.... a row of... things carrying it on their backs. He leaps and cuts them off, ravaging and destroying several of the things. One remained, as he gave chase, the car turned sharply, Thanatos doesn`t manage it and smashes into a building. He roared as he regained his footing, he leaps again, catching up to the car and flips it over. The two scientists inside hurry out of the vehicle and run away. Thanatos grabs the car and drops it near the others, which have been gathered in a pile he touches the pile and lets the power of the Marianasium and Ambrosia flood through him. He glowed yellow as he roared. Finally the sail on his back glowed. A massive amount of energy amassed in his mouth as he unleashed a yellow beam that cut through and destroyed every building it touched, leaving the capital of China a pile of molten rubble. Thanatos curled up in a fetal position.
The scientist carefully stepped towards the curled up behemoth. He looked at the small amounts of Marianasium that were littered about. The Maranasium were empty shells with a hole in the middle, the Ambrosia that was once inside them had been sucked in. The sound of rotor blades behind him draws his attention
"Sir! Get in!" says one of his fellow scientists. He gets in the helicopter and leaves the smoldering pile of rubble that Beijing had become.
Thanatos didn`t even stir.
"I want the Marianasium and Ambrosia loaded and out of the city before that thing comes here!" yells the head researcher of the Beijing Institute of Science.
One of the scientist stops loading the crates of Marianasium and Ambrosia.
"Do you hear that ?" says the scientist, now that he spoke of it there was a very faint, crashing noise and i was getting closer and closer. Oh no...
Thanatos roared as he smashes through another skyscraper, he senses the very thing that he desires, he is getting closer and closer. He roars as his senses go wild and there it was.... a row of... things carrying it on their backs. He leaps and cuts them off, ravaging and destroying several of the things. One remained, as he gave chase, the car turned sharply, Thanatos doesn`t manage it and smashes into a building. He roared as he regained his footing, he leaps again, catching up to the car and flips it over. The two scientists inside hurry out of the vehicle and run away. Thanatos grabs the car and drops it near the others, which have been gathered in a pile he touches the pile and lets the power of the Marianasium and Ambrosia flood through him. He glowed yellow as he roared. Finally the sail on his back glowed. A massive amount of energy amassed in his mouth as he unleashed a yellow beam that cut through and destroyed every building it touched, leaving the capital of China a pile of molten rubble. Thanatos curled up in a fetal position.
The scientist carefully stepped towards the curled up behemoth. He looked at the small amounts of Marianasium that were littered about. The Maranasium were empty shells with a hole in the middle, the Ambrosia that was once inside them had been sucked in. The sound of rotor blades behind him draws his attention
"Sir! Get in!" says one of his fellow scientists. He gets in the helicopter and leaves the smoldering pile of rubble that Beijing had become.
Thanatos didn`t even stir.
Last edited by Andrew the Gojifan on Thu Jun 28, 2018 8:02 am, edited 6 times in total.
Life is a Pay to Win rage game
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Zarm
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Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
Location: Base Camp, Marianas Island
Ransikoff giggled with glee as, with the slightest of slurping noises, his glasses slid free of the anomaly and dropped to the ground... followed, a few second later, by an identical pair. Or perhaps vice-versa; there didn't seem to be an established order.
He reached down to pick both off of the grass, bringing them near to his eye and squinting at them up close.
Nothing.
No variances, no differences- no perceptible divergences whatsoever. And no traces of gunk. Indeed, as the ripples from the break in its surface subside into nothing, there was nothing left in the Anomaly's surface to indicate that it was permeable at all. It went from a floating globule of tar to a hovering sphere or polished obsidian before his eyes; in stillness, it looked to be the world's largest gemstone.
Cackling happily to himself, he popped the glasses back onto his face.
"It's perfect," he whispered to himself. "Perfect!" he shouted aloud.
"Until about seven hours from now, when your glasses might dissolve off your face," one of the patrolling soldiers called back as he marched past.
Ransikoff frowned, holding up the other pair of glasses- pulling off the first and weighing them side-by-side.
He weighed them both in his palms for several helpless moments- then shrugged and resigned himself to carefully carrying around both pairs until one of them turned to dust.
Then he grinned again and slapped a randomly-chosen pair back on.
This thing might be evil- an abomination of life that threatened the Attuned, Humanity, and the balance of life itself... but it was fun!
He reached out and snagged the arm of the nearest passing soldier, and turned excitedly toward him.
"Oh, mister Garcia- you have to try this! Come on, throw something in!"
Location: Indian Ocean
"Get a shirt on, will you? This isn't Naked Deadliest Catch Wars!"
Emmanuel Janguo laughed at his brother's jibe, but didn't respond beyond readjusting his grip on the reel as he tensed in anticipation of the catch he knew was coming. The pre-dawn hours a few hundred miles east of Madagascar- give or take, the actual position was on a chart somewhere- certainly had a nip to them, but there was a surprising balminess to the air that Emmanuel had treasured as long as the siblings had come here to deep-sea fish.
And they had certainly decided that this year, nothing as simple as the end of the world was going to stop them. If anything, it might represent their last opportunity. Particularly with some talk of a curfew or restriction on international waters, where kaiju apparently tended to travel between landmasses.
Emmanuel kicked back with a chuckle, one hand on the handle and ready to wind. He was in for a bite any second- all his instincts told him so. He just had to wait it out.
Baraka dropped down beside him, bundled up and shivering- he'd never had Emmanuel's tolerance for cold.
"Kaiju could be scaring away the fish," he noted without preamble.
There was an alert out for the region- Vrithigee, hundreds of miles to the northwest. They'd have to move on by midday, clear the area- but if the squid-thing could clear the sea from this distance, only a couple of kaiju would be enough to kill the fishing industry forever. Unless some lucky soul happened to find where the fish fled to.
"Could be," Emmanuel agreed, secretly doubting it. "But I plan to give them another hour before I give up hope. You?"
Baraka hesitated, then nodded. "Sure."
Emmanuel hid his smile by turning away to check one of the other poles. Baraka's patience for fishing seemed to be diminishing every year; he was more into developing his apps. The enforced no-phone policy for the trip, a legacy of dad's old rules, was more and more a torment to his younger brother, he suspected... though secretly, he thought of it as a necessary bit of yearly detox. So long as the pre-paid, early-2000s-style flip-phone aboard could still reach land in case of trouble and couldn't be used to write code- it could barely text, each key representing three letters- Emmanuel considered the break from technology good for both of them. Life was getting ever-faster-paced and more stressful; it was nice to leave that all behind.
Well, except for the GPS, radio, and fish-finder sonar on the rented boat's console... but getting lost at sea would generally negate the point of relaxing.
Emmanuel turned back to his own pole, mildly surprised that he hadn't received the tug he'd been expecting. There was something big ready to bite- he could almost feel it in his bones.
"You know," Baraka said, and it was only then that Emmanuel realized that it had been almost ten minutes since either of them had spoken, "This is the fifth trip we've taken... just us."
Without dad, Emmanuel thought- that was what he was trying to avoid saying.
"Yes..." he responded cautiously. He had a feeling he could guess where this was going, and he didn't like it.
Baraka was hard to see in the darkness, but Emmanuel could sense a discomfort in his voice.
"I was thinking- with things the way they are, so uncertain... maybe we should give things a break next year."
Emmanuel closed his eyes, a murmur of a sigh escaping parted lips. Five years had always seemed like a nice, round number to Baraka- he remembered that.
"I thought that you enjoyed these trips," he said quietly, trying to forestall the inevitable.
"They're... important to me," Baraka answered by-and-by.
Emmanuel understood well enough; the chance to have dad to themselves, without three sisters, two cousins, and all the adults that lived in their large house, was something they'd both always treasured. Baraka especially had glowed under the share of dad's undivided attention he'd received- the fishing trip was his favorite time of the year, trumping any holiday season by a mile.
But apparently, he'd misjudged just how much Baraka enjoyed the activity itself.
Emmanuel frowned to himself. Did this mean his brother had just been... putting in his obligations? Coming out of respect for the dead for a respectable number of years? The first two or three years after, Baraka had seemed to really be enjoying himself- the chance to remember dad, the commiserations, the quiet to contemplate... and Emmanuel had felt like they'd really bonded. Had that all been in his imagination- something he was projecting onto his brother because he felt it himself?
...Did that mean that he Baraka thought the time of mourning for their father was over?
Did that mean that he himself thought it wasn't...?
"But, I-" Baraka started to continue... then trailed off, sounding confused. Emmanuel followed his gaze in the dim, gathering light.
The fish-finder was going crazy. a good quarter of the screen had gone pure white, fritzing out with static, like a spearhead into the dark, empty screen. Emmanuel stared at it in dismay- if the thing broke while they were renting, they'd have to pay tens of thousands of shilingi to replace it, as they'd opted out of the insurance-
And then, the screen blinked, and the spearhead moved further in, growing to cover more of the screen.
"What...?" he whispered in confusion- and then, the boat began to shake.
The waves began to chop with greater force and frequency, and large, foaming bubbles began to burst on the horizon. In a trail.
Moving right toward them.
"Vrithigee!" he bellowed over the gathering rumble.
He didn't know for certain- but who else could it be? As the boat began to bob up and down in the turbulent wake, rocked violently from side to side by the slapping waves, the arrowhead-shape bisected the dark screen- and at its tail was a writhing concentration of strands that changed and shifted every time the sonar blinked with an update- extending far off the end of the screen.
Emmanuel cast about in a panic- but to his credit, Baraka seemed to know exactly what to do. Passing a lifeline through the loops of his life-vest, he clipped it to one of the rail-holders... in his panic, it didn't even occur to Emmanuel to do the same until Baraka did it for him.
He just kept staring at the water. Beneath, a massive, pale shape was dimply visible through the press of water between them- a wide, broad back sliding past, like a curious dugong sliding past an aquarium window. But this broad, grey back was impossibly wide, and impossibly long- from the side of the boat, Emmanuel couldn't see the edges. And it was moving fast. Impossibly fast. What few dark surface details Emmanuel could make out flashed past like cars on the highway, at a speed that should have carried any natural object he could conceive of- car, freight truck, freight train- past already.
And on it went.
The screen now displayed only the tendrils- a confusion of curving lines that were re-positioned with every refresh...
And the sea grew worse.
The hard slap of a wave healed the boat so hard-over that Emmanuel was sure it was going to capsize- and then the fishing boat jerked, throwing both of them off of their feet.
In a dizzying second of wheeling sky and sea, Emmanuel slammed, hard, against the wet, slimy keel- standing high out of the water. The impact took his breath away, made his head spin and spots dance before his eyes- and it was only as he began to spin on his line that he realized he was over the side, dangling from his life-line, with the boat up almost on its side and staying that way- racing through the water in the turbulent zone.
And with the loud whizzing of unspooling line, three of the deep-sea poles bowed, dragging the entire boat under the weight of their prize catch.
"Baraka!" Emmanuel shouted, uselessly- only in retrospect realizing that the sound would be as easily snatched away by the roar of the violently-disturbed water as any reply would be.
He thrashed, limbs pinwheeling in the air, as he turned on his line- trying to get behind his back, to find the grip that the slimy, curved hull wouldn't provide. His questing, callused hand found the line- but the bump was enough to send him twisting around the other way.
His face hung toward the water, the foam and violent chop now obscuring the pale shape beneath. The vest was painfully tight against his chest, hanging from the back, and he, like a puppet, swinging off of the rope. The waves flashed by a frightening speed and uncomfortable closeness, cold spray pelting the bare, dark chest under the bright orange vest. He was beginning to wish he'd listened to his brother... about a lot of things.
His hand snagged the line and clamped on with the kind of grip only adrenaline could provide, the cold, slick nylon held like a vice. He managed to pull himself around, grab on with the other hand, and readjust the first grip, as the railing over which both he and, pulling toward the opposite side of the boat- the poles, were hooked warping precipitously.
If it broke free, Baraka might just be saved- assuming that the boat rocked back to even instead of toppling to a capsize... but he would most certainly be drug out into the open ocean, keelhauled by a kaiju.
He thought of his sisters, of his cousins- of the noisy, chaotic mess of an over-crowded house... of the wide-eyed, heavy, excited breathing of the newest nephew that had just learned how to walk and wanted to explore everything- and decided that he had no intention of dying here.
Forearms straining, veins standing out from the effort, Emmanuel began to haul himself up, arm over aching arm. His feet worked futilely to find a bolstering hold on the bouncing, wet hull- but it didn't matter. With a cry of pain and exertion that was stolen by the roaring wake, he hauled himself up onto the railing.
Immediately, through the metal bars, he saw Baraka, dangling similarly, one foot braced on the mid-deck couch, being buffeted by the spray as the broad end of the boat lumbered through the water at speeds that had already chipped away part of the lower side's railing; as he watched, a section the span of a tricycle's handlebars snapped off in the force of the spray, hurled instantly to smash into the deck a handful of feet from where his brother helplessly braced himself, eliciting a cry that he was close enough to hear. Similar bits of flotsam, dropping down into the spray, were constantly pelted back against the boat by the rush of resistant water, the hail of sharp metal objects pattering repeatedly against the exposed deck like clothes tumbling in a clothes-washer.
Emmanuel worked his way quickly but carefully on aching arms over toward the straining poles, knowing that the high-tension lines could slice him in half if the kaiju they'd hooked suddenly pivoted. Reaching the first pole, he hesitated- then hit the latch to the pole-holder, wrapped both hands around the cracked shaft, and heaved.
When the pole came free, the handle snapped up like a cracking whip, coming so close to his chin that it nearly broke his neck. Emmanuel tumbled backward, arms flailing, and barely managed to get a grip on the railing sufficient to keep him from tumbling back to his prior helpless position.
The hull of the boat creaked ominously beneath him.
A nasty cut on his chest was loosing a wash of blood, though he didn't know where he'd got it, and his burning hands felt on the verge of giving out.
Below him, Baraka yelped in helpless terror once more- and it was enough to drive Emmanuel past the condition of his body. Without thinking, he scrambled for the second pole- and this time, when he loosed the holder, he only had to duck back and let the pole tear itself free.
With a sharp crack, the third pole-handled splintered and give way.
Emmanuel leaned back, and threw himself over the side, as the end of the boat fish-tailed wildly. He didn't see the three poles streaking away on the surface of the sea like narrow torpedoes, nor the tentacles of Vrithigee sliding past and away beneath... but he felt the icy brace of the water as the boat- helped in some part by his weight on the starboard side, he hoped- rocked back onto the level.
And then his world was swirling bubbles and cold, icy shock as he sank into the directionless depths. His over-exhausted body sagged, beyond adrenaline's limit- robbing him of the strength that he needed.
A hard jerk on his back yanked his head above the surface, and he realized that the boat was still rocking violently, bouncing back and forth as it settled- and the counter-rock dunked him once more...
...And the next thing he knew was the panting, exhausted face of his brother as skinny, trembling arms hauled him back aboard.
Emmanuel gasped like a fish out of water, fighting to regain his own breath, and looked at his bedraggled, wide-eyed brother against the pale pre-dawn blue that was just beginning to tint the sky.
"We're going to have to pay for those poles," he choked out between gasps- but his brother was too keyed-up to laugh at the feeble joke.
"Get our position!" Baraka called, already capering over to start the outboard motor. The seas were came, the streak of a roiling wake already disappearing on the far horizon, but neither of them felt much cause for relief. "We have to call this in! I'll get us back to land!"
Emmanuel agreed, shaken, and set to the controls. It was unlikely that they needed to retreat to Madagascar harborage now; and unlikely that the hours-long journey would make them any safer if they were in immediate threat now. But it would make the both of them feel better to be off the sea right about now.
If that truly was Vrithigee, then the thing was faster than anyone could have predicted.
He set his jaw as he flicked on a small light over the instrument panel and began to jot down the GPS coordinates on a notepad. For now, their brush with the unnatural occupied their full attention. But a conversation that they really needed to have had only been delayed, not negated. And soon after they made port, Emmanuel hoped they'd find the time to have it.
Ransikoff giggled with glee as, with the slightest of slurping noises, his glasses slid free of the anomaly and dropped to the ground... followed, a few second later, by an identical pair. Or perhaps vice-versa; there didn't seem to be an established order.
He reached down to pick both off of the grass, bringing them near to his eye and squinting at them up close.
Nothing.
No variances, no differences- no perceptible divergences whatsoever. And no traces of gunk. Indeed, as the ripples from the break in its surface subside into nothing, there was nothing left in the Anomaly's surface to indicate that it was permeable at all. It went from a floating globule of tar to a hovering sphere or polished obsidian before his eyes; in stillness, it looked to be the world's largest gemstone.
Cackling happily to himself, he popped the glasses back onto his face.
"It's perfect," he whispered to himself. "Perfect!" he shouted aloud.
"Until about seven hours from now, when your glasses might dissolve off your face," one of the patrolling soldiers called back as he marched past.
Ransikoff frowned, holding up the other pair of glasses- pulling off the first and weighing them side-by-side.
He weighed them both in his palms for several helpless moments- then shrugged and resigned himself to carefully carrying around both pairs until one of them turned to dust.
Then he grinned again and slapped a randomly-chosen pair back on.
This thing might be evil- an abomination of life that threatened the Attuned, Humanity, and the balance of life itself... but it was fun!
He reached out and snagged the arm of the nearest passing soldier, and turned excitedly toward him.
"Oh, mister Garcia- you have to try this! Come on, throw something in!"
Location: Indian Ocean
"Get a shirt on, will you? This isn't Naked Deadliest Catch Wars!"
Emmanuel Janguo laughed at his brother's jibe, but didn't respond beyond readjusting his grip on the reel as he tensed in anticipation of the catch he knew was coming. The pre-dawn hours a few hundred miles east of Madagascar- give or take, the actual position was on a chart somewhere- certainly had a nip to them, but there was a surprising balminess to the air that Emmanuel had treasured as long as the siblings had come here to deep-sea fish.
And they had certainly decided that this year, nothing as simple as the end of the world was going to stop them. If anything, it might represent their last opportunity. Particularly with some talk of a curfew or restriction on international waters, where kaiju apparently tended to travel between landmasses.
Emmanuel kicked back with a chuckle, one hand on the handle and ready to wind. He was in for a bite any second- all his instincts told him so. He just had to wait it out.
Baraka dropped down beside him, bundled up and shivering- he'd never had Emmanuel's tolerance for cold.
"Kaiju could be scaring away the fish," he noted without preamble.
There was an alert out for the region- Vrithigee, hundreds of miles to the northwest. They'd have to move on by midday, clear the area- but if the squid-thing could clear the sea from this distance, only a couple of kaiju would be enough to kill the fishing industry forever. Unless some lucky soul happened to find where the fish fled to.
"Could be," Emmanuel agreed, secretly doubting it. "But I plan to give them another hour before I give up hope. You?"
Baraka hesitated, then nodded. "Sure."
Emmanuel hid his smile by turning away to check one of the other poles. Baraka's patience for fishing seemed to be diminishing every year; he was more into developing his apps. The enforced no-phone policy for the trip, a legacy of dad's old rules, was more and more a torment to his younger brother, he suspected... though secretly, he thought of it as a necessary bit of yearly detox. So long as the pre-paid, early-2000s-style flip-phone aboard could still reach land in case of trouble and couldn't be used to write code- it could barely text, each key representing three letters- Emmanuel considered the break from technology good for both of them. Life was getting ever-faster-paced and more stressful; it was nice to leave that all behind.
Well, except for the GPS, radio, and fish-finder sonar on the rented boat's console... but getting lost at sea would generally negate the point of relaxing.
Emmanuel turned back to his own pole, mildly surprised that he hadn't received the tug he'd been expecting. There was something big ready to bite- he could almost feel it in his bones.
"You know," Baraka said, and it was only then that Emmanuel realized that it had been almost ten minutes since either of them had spoken, "This is the fifth trip we've taken... just us."
Without dad, Emmanuel thought- that was what he was trying to avoid saying.
"Yes..." he responded cautiously. He had a feeling he could guess where this was going, and he didn't like it.
Baraka was hard to see in the darkness, but Emmanuel could sense a discomfort in his voice.
"I was thinking- with things the way they are, so uncertain... maybe we should give things a break next year."
Emmanuel closed his eyes, a murmur of a sigh escaping parted lips. Five years had always seemed like a nice, round number to Baraka- he remembered that.
"I thought that you enjoyed these trips," he said quietly, trying to forestall the inevitable.
"They're... important to me," Baraka answered by-and-by.
Emmanuel understood well enough; the chance to have dad to themselves, without three sisters, two cousins, and all the adults that lived in their large house, was something they'd both always treasured. Baraka especially had glowed under the share of dad's undivided attention he'd received- the fishing trip was his favorite time of the year, trumping any holiday season by a mile.
But apparently, he'd misjudged just how much Baraka enjoyed the activity itself.
Emmanuel frowned to himself. Did this mean his brother had just been... putting in his obligations? Coming out of respect for the dead for a respectable number of years? The first two or three years after, Baraka had seemed to really be enjoying himself- the chance to remember dad, the commiserations, the quiet to contemplate... and Emmanuel had felt like they'd really bonded. Had that all been in his imagination- something he was projecting onto his brother because he felt it himself?
...Did that mean that he Baraka thought the time of mourning for their father was over?
Did that mean that he himself thought it wasn't...?
"But, I-" Baraka started to continue... then trailed off, sounding confused. Emmanuel followed his gaze in the dim, gathering light.
The fish-finder was going crazy. a good quarter of the screen had gone pure white, fritzing out with static, like a spearhead into the dark, empty screen. Emmanuel stared at it in dismay- if the thing broke while they were renting, they'd have to pay tens of thousands of shilingi to replace it, as they'd opted out of the insurance-
And then, the screen blinked, and the spearhead moved further in, growing to cover more of the screen.
"What...?" he whispered in confusion- and then, the boat began to shake.
The waves began to chop with greater force and frequency, and large, foaming bubbles began to burst on the horizon. In a trail.
Moving right toward them.
"Vrithigee!" he bellowed over the gathering rumble.
He didn't know for certain- but who else could it be? As the boat began to bob up and down in the turbulent wake, rocked violently from side to side by the slapping waves, the arrowhead-shape bisected the dark screen- and at its tail was a writhing concentration of strands that changed and shifted every time the sonar blinked with an update- extending far off the end of the screen.
Emmanuel cast about in a panic- but to his credit, Baraka seemed to know exactly what to do. Passing a lifeline through the loops of his life-vest, he clipped it to one of the rail-holders... in his panic, it didn't even occur to Emmanuel to do the same until Baraka did it for him.
He just kept staring at the water. Beneath, a massive, pale shape was dimply visible through the press of water between them- a wide, broad back sliding past, like a curious dugong sliding past an aquarium window. But this broad, grey back was impossibly wide, and impossibly long- from the side of the boat, Emmanuel couldn't see the edges. And it was moving fast. Impossibly fast. What few dark surface details Emmanuel could make out flashed past like cars on the highway, at a speed that should have carried any natural object he could conceive of- car, freight truck, freight train- past already.
And on it went.
The screen now displayed only the tendrils- a confusion of curving lines that were re-positioned with every refresh...
And the sea grew worse.
The hard slap of a wave healed the boat so hard-over that Emmanuel was sure it was going to capsize- and then the fishing boat jerked, throwing both of them off of their feet.
In a dizzying second of wheeling sky and sea, Emmanuel slammed, hard, against the wet, slimy keel- standing high out of the water. The impact took his breath away, made his head spin and spots dance before his eyes- and it was only as he began to spin on his line that he realized he was over the side, dangling from his life-line, with the boat up almost on its side and staying that way- racing through the water in the turbulent zone.
And with the loud whizzing of unspooling line, three of the deep-sea poles bowed, dragging the entire boat under the weight of their prize catch.
"Baraka!" Emmanuel shouted, uselessly- only in retrospect realizing that the sound would be as easily snatched away by the roar of the violently-disturbed water as any reply would be.
He thrashed, limbs pinwheeling in the air, as he turned on his line- trying to get behind his back, to find the grip that the slimy, curved hull wouldn't provide. His questing, callused hand found the line- but the bump was enough to send him twisting around the other way.
His face hung toward the water, the foam and violent chop now obscuring the pale shape beneath. The vest was painfully tight against his chest, hanging from the back, and he, like a puppet, swinging off of the rope. The waves flashed by a frightening speed and uncomfortable closeness, cold spray pelting the bare, dark chest under the bright orange vest. He was beginning to wish he'd listened to his brother... about a lot of things.
His hand snagged the line and clamped on with the kind of grip only adrenaline could provide, the cold, slick nylon held like a vice. He managed to pull himself around, grab on with the other hand, and readjust the first grip, as the railing over which both he and, pulling toward the opposite side of the boat- the poles, were hooked warping precipitously.
If it broke free, Baraka might just be saved- assuming that the boat rocked back to even instead of toppling to a capsize... but he would most certainly be drug out into the open ocean, keelhauled by a kaiju.
He thought of his sisters, of his cousins- of the noisy, chaotic mess of an over-crowded house... of the wide-eyed, heavy, excited breathing of the newest nephew that had just learned how to walk and wanted to explore everything- and decided that he had no intention of dying here.
Forearms straining, veins standing out from the effort, Emmanuel began to haul himself up, arm over aching arm. His feet worked futilely to find a bolstering hold on the bouncing, wet hull- but it didn't matter. With a cry of pain and exertion that was stolen by the roaring wake, he hauled himself up onto the railing.
Immediately, through the metal bars, he saw Baraka, dangling similarly, one foot braced on the mid-deck couch, being buffeted by the spray as the broad end of the boat lumbered through the water at speeds that had already chipped away part of the lower side's railing; as he watched, a section the span of a tricycle's handlebars snapped off in the force of the spray, hurled instantly to smash into the deck a handful of feet from where his brother helplessly braced himself, eliciting a cry that he was close enough to hear. Similar bits of flotsam, dropping down into the spray, were constantly pelted back against the boat by the rush of resistant water, the hail of sharp metal objects pattering repeatedly against the exposed deck like clothes tumbling in a clothes-washer.
Emmanuel worked his way quickly but carefully on aching arms over toward the straining poles, knowing that the high-tension lines could slice him in half if the kaiju they'd hooked suddenly pivoted. Reaching the first pole, he hesitated- then hit the latch to the pole-holder, wrapped both hands around the cracked shaft, and heaved.
When the pole came free, the handle snapped up like a cracking whip, coming so close to his chin that it nearly broke his neck. Emmanuel tumbled backward, arms flailing, and barely managed to get a grip on the railing sufficient to keep him from tumbling back to his prior helpless position.
The hull of the boat creaked ominously beneath him.
A nasty cut on his chest was loosing a wash of blood, though he didn't know where he'd got it, and his burning hands felt on the verge of giving out.
Below him, Baraka yelped in helpless terror once more- and it was enough to drive Emmanuel past the condition of his body. Without thinking, he scrambled for the second pole- and this time, when he loosed the holder, he only had to duck back and let the pole tear itself free.
With a sharp crack, the third pole-handled splintered and give way.
Emmanuel leaned back, and threw himself over the side, as the end of the boat fish-tailed wildly. He didn't see the three poles streaking away on the surface of the sea like narrow torpedoes, nor the tentacles of Vrithigee sliding past and away beneath... but he felt the icy brace of the water as the boat- helped in some part by his weight on the starboard side, he hoped- rocked back onto the level.
And then his world was swirling bubbles and cold, icy shock as he sank into the directionless depths. His over-exhausted body sagged, beyond adrenaline's limit- robbing him of the strength that he needed.
A hard jerk on his back yanked his head above the surface, and he realized that the boat was still rocking violently, bouncing back and forth as it settled- and the counter-rock dunked him once more...
...And the next thing he knew was the panting, exhausted face of his brother as skinny, trembling arms hauled him back aboard.
Emmanuel gasped like a fish out of water, fighting to regain his own breath, and looked at his bedraggled, wide-eyed brother against the pale pre-dawn blue that was just beginning to tint the sky.
"We're going to have to pay for those poles," he choked out between gasps- but his brother was too keyed-up to laugh at the feeble joke.
"Get our position!" Baraka called, already capering over to start the outboard motor. The seas were came, the streak of a roiling wake already disappearing on the far horizon, but neither of them felt much cause for relief. "We have to call this in! I'll get us back to land!"
Emmanuel agreed, shaken, and set to the controls. It was unlikely that they needed to retreat to Madagascar harborage now; and unlikely that the hours-long journey would make them any safer if they were in immediate threat now. But it would make the both of them feel better to be off the sea right about now.
If that truly was Vrithigee, then the thing was faster than anyone could have predicted.
He set his jaw as he flicked on a small light over the instrument panel and began to jot down the GPS coordinates on a notepad. For now, their brush with the unnatural occupied their full attention. But a conversation that they really needed to have had only been delayed, not negated. And soon after they made port, Emmanuel hoped they'd find the time to have it.
The grace of God is a greater gift than we can truly fathom; undeserved mercy is a kindness humbling in its sheer scope.KaijuCanuck wrote:It’s part of my secret plan to create a fifth column in the US, pre-emoting our glorious conquest and the creation of the Canadian Empire, upon which the sun will consistently set after less than eight hours of daylight.
The Zone Fighter campaign is complete, with all episodes subtitled! PM me if you need a link location.
Maranatha!
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Andrew the Gojifan
- Monsterland Worker
- Posts: 248
- Joined: Sat Jun 10, 2017 10:21 am
- Location: Earth
Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
Paris, France
The final men, women and children choked to death as spider hairs floated through the air. One certain Araenomater was on harvesting duty, mice scurried about trying to gnaw at the spider`s legs, thinking it was weak, only to end up dead and with a broken spine with one jolt of the spider`s leg. It advanced on the dead bodies of a mother holding a child, it opened it`s mouth and ate them, ready to share the digested remains of the food with it`s brothers, sisters and their majesties
Two soldiers looked on as they left their colleague`s corpse to rot in the mass grave. He deserved better than the pit they threw everyone in, he deserved a hero`s funeral.
The bunker`s walls caved in as the First Queens feet smashed into the ground above. Filling her stomach would be easy.
The flames engulfed the spider as the soldiers, equipped with flamethrowers, blasted the spider with flames. The spider jumps over them and flees.
The final men, women and children choked to death as spider hairs floated through the air. One certain Araenomater was on harvesting duty, mice scurried about trying to gnaw at the spider`s legs, thinking it was weak, only to end up dead and with a broken spine with one jolt of the spider`s leg. It advanced on the dead bodies of a mother holding a child, it opened it`s mouth and ate them, ready to share the digested remains of the food with it`s brothers, sisters and their majesties
Two soldiers looked on as they left their colleague`s corpse to rot in the mass grave. He deserved better than the pit they threw everyone in, he deserved a hero`s funeral.
The bunker`s walls caved in as the First Queens feet smashed into the ground above. Filling her stomach would be easy.
The flames engulfed the spider as the soldiers, equipped with flamethrowers, blasted the spider with flames. The spider jumps over them and flees.
Life is a Pay to Win rage game
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Godzilla165
- Xilien Halfling
- Posts: 6078
- Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2012 9:37 am
Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
New Delhi
7:20 PM
The young boy had never been this scared in his entire life. He scampered and stumbled through the flooded streets of Mumbai, clutched to his mother's hand, along with millions of other residents running for their lives. The boy could barely see where he was going, stinging tears filled his eyes, his vision blurry from running for so long. But he couldn't stop. His mother tugged and tugged on his skinny hand, occasionally looking back and yelling at him to keep moving. The boy felt as though he was gonna puke, and maybe even pass out from his lungs being worked to their limit. People, blinded by fear and adrenaline, didn't care about one another; they pushed, shoved, punched, and kicked each other out of the way, selfishly trying to reach any kind of safety. The boy had witnessed hundreds be trampled to death, their bodies lay crumpled in the cement. All around him, buildings were crumbling to the earth, fires were raging, and smoke surrounded every nook and cranny of this city now under siege. The boy could run no longer, and he felt his trembling legs crumple underneath him. He fell to his knees, and began to vomit. It was nothing but saliva, but the boy just couldn't move another inch. His mother desperately tried getting him to stand up, and to keep moving, but he couldn't. His legs were jelly, his lungs weezing, and his eyes were streaking. The mother knelt down beside him, wrapping her arms firmly around his being, and prayed for a miracle.
Suddenly, the boys ears were lit up by the thunderous sounds of gunfire. He jerked his head up to see a wave of soldiers running towards him and his mother, unleashing a swarm of bullets at the towering form behind them. The mother ducked her head into her arms, and covered her son as best she could. She looked up from someone rigorously tapping her on the shoulder, and saw that it was a soldier. The man screamed for her to take her son, and get the hell out of there. The weeping woman didn't hesitate to follow the man's orders, snatched her son up in her arms, and ran as fast as she could. The boy jostled and flailed in her arms. The sounds of helicopter blades caught his attention, and he looked above just in time to see a barrage of missiles being launched into the thick clouds of smoke. A roar of explosions soon erupted, followed by a truly unearthly howl, and a bone chilling hiss that sounded more like a gust of wind. For a brief second, through the orange balls of fire, the boy saw it. He saw the body of a serpent, but one that was as wide as a cruise ship. He saw the flattened hood of a cobra, but one that stretched on for blocks. He saw the heads of two tigers, but ones that were bigger than a house. Then, to the boy's horror, he witnessed a paw of equal size lash out at an unsuspecting helicopter, and reduce it to glowing cinders with ease. His eyes were filled with the orange ball of ruined metal, and the boy began to weep. He dug his head deep into his mother's shoulder, and pressed his hands firmly to his ears, trying with all of his might to make this nightmare go away. All around him, he could still hear the agonizing screams of people being crushed, the hell mary of bullets being cast at the demon bigger than a city, the teeth rattling explosions... The soul shaking bellows.
This was his home, New Delhi. The boy had just finished dinner, and was watching TV an hour ago... When hell arose from the depths. Now, the boy could only witness as flames overtook Mumbai, hundreds of thousands of people were either crushed or swallowed whole, and the only hope of killing whatever it was that was ravaging the land, be wiped out. The boy looked up to see the shadowy serpent rear its ugly head into the sky, and scream a sound that one could only describe as, "chilling". The boy would remember that sound for the rest of his life, a sound that made him wish he wasn't alive anymore, a sound that caused him to weep in uncontrollable agony and despair.
This was his home, New Delhi. Now, it was no longer.
Washington D.C.
Deep within the wilderness of D.C., lied what had to have been the biggest secret ever kept in world history. Only a handful of government personnel even know it exists, and even the President of the United States doesn't truly know what lies inside of the massive, opaque dome where this secret operation takes place. The individuals who are in the know of what really occurs here, and what is inside, all must sign a stack of documents at least two inches thick. These documents state that if they are sworn to absolute secrecy, and if they ever were to reveal even the tiniest detail of what truly took place within the dome... They would be swiftly eliminated. To the everyday public that may happen to stumble across this operation, they walk away convinced that a team of biologists are merely studying the plant life in the area, to hopefully further advance modern day medicine. What these clueless souls don't, and will never know, is that there is something inside of this large dome, of which has been apply named the, "Eldritch facility)... Is something that, if ever awoken, would destroy the world as they knew it.
Evening had set on Washington, and inside of the Eldritch facility, were a dozen scientists and agents alike, hard at work monitoring various signals and readings on several dozen computer stations, scattered throughout the entire structure. The dome housed four main floors: a top floor dedicated to any head officials and important meetings, a second floor that was used to keep track of any and all activity in space, a third floor for the plethora of different readings and signals from... HIM. And lastly, the bottom floor, the one that led miles and miles underground, the one that housed HIM... At least... Some of him. This floor was only for a very, very select few of individuals a part of this whole operation, and their job was to essentially make sure that they didn't hear any... Noises, coming from him that would draw concern. Down there now, was the head of the entire thing: a certain James Dickerson. He was a tall and broad man, with an ever thinning patch of black hair on his head, a hearty jawline, stern green eyes, and cleanly shaven. Dickerson didn't even know how he managed to get involved with this insanity, let alone become the head of it. Ever since the bastard crash landed on his planet decades ago, James was thrust right square into the shit, and still can't find a way out to this day.
He stood in front of an utterly enormous, white wall, one that made him look like a fly by comparison. He stood there, just... Looking at it, his face as blank as an empty sheet of paper. Upon hearing a pair of footsteps walking up behind him, James was shaken from his trance, and glanced over his shoulder to see who it was. It was Mason White, James' second-in-command, and closest friend. Mason was on the shorter side, chubby, and always wore an obvious toupee to cover up his shiny cranium. He had colored his graying beard black, but that didn't exactly look any better. Mason stood beside James and gave him a solid pat on the shoulder, before following his friend's gaze to that peculiar white wall.
"I just came down to tell you I was gone for the day." Mason said.
James nodded, "That's fine, Mason. I'll see you in the morning."
Mason gave him a friendly slap on the arm, and turned to head back towards the elevator. The man slowed to a stop, turned halfway, and said, "You know, James, they say that the devil has multiple heads." He motioned to the, "wall". "Well, I count four on that son-of-a-bitch."
Mason then turned around, and sauntered out of the vast room, leaving James alone once more. The grizzled man kept his eyes glued on the structure before him, and sighed deeply. "The devil has four heads." He murmured, before finally turning away from the wall and heading to the exit as well.
The funny thing is, no walls in existence ever narrowed to a point...
7:20 PM
The young boy had never been this scared in his entire life. He scampered and stumbled through the flooded streets of Mumbai, clutched to his mother's hand, along with millions of other residents running for their lives. The boy could barely see where he was going, stinging tears filled his eyes, his vision blurry from running for so long. But he couldn't stop. His mother tugged and tugged on his skinny hand, occasionally looking back and yelling at him to keep moving. The boy felt as though he was gonna puke, and maybe even pass out from his lungs being worked to their limit. People, blinded by fear and adrenaline, didn't care about one another; they pushed, shoved, punched, and kicked each other out of the way, selfishly trying to reach any kind of safety. The boy had witnessed hundreds be trampled to death, their bodies lay crumpled in the cement. All around him, buildings were crumbling to the earth, fires were raging, and smoke surrounded every nook and cranny of this city now under siege. The boy could run no longer, and he felt his trembling legs crumple underneath him. He fell to his knees, and began to vomit. It was nothing but saliva, but the boy just couldn't move another inch. His mother desperately tried getting him to stand up, and to keep moving, but he couldn't. His legs were jelly, his lungs weezing, and his eyes were streaking. The mother knelt down beside him, wrapping her arms firmly around his being, and prayed for a miracle.
Suddenly, the boys ears were lit up by the thunderous sounds of gunfire. He jerked his head up to see a wave of soldiers running towards him and his mother, unleashing a swarm of bullets at the towering form behind them. The mother ducked her head into her arms, and covered her son as best she could. She looked up from someone rigorously tapping her on the shoulder, and saw that it was a soldier. The man screamed for her to take her son, and get the hell out of there. The weeping woman didn't hesitate to follow the man's orders, snatched her son up in her arms, and ran as fast as she could. The boy jostled and flailed in her arms. The sounds of helicopter blades caught his attention, and he looked above just in time to see a barrage of missiles being launched into the thick clouds of smoke. A roar of explosions soon erupted, followed by a truly unearthly howl, and a bone chilling hiss that sounded more like a gust of wind. For a brief second, through the orange balls of fire, the boy saw it. He saw the body of a serpent, but one that was as wide as a cruise ship. He saw the flattened hood of a cobra, but one that stretched on for blocks. He saw the heads of two tigers, but ones that were bigger than a house. Then, to the boy's horror, he witnessed a paw of equal size lash out at an unsuspecting helicopter, and reduce it to glowing cinders with ease. His eyes were filled with the orange ball of ruined metal, and the boy began to weep. He dug his head deep into his mother's shoulder, and pressed his hands firmly to his ears, trying with all of his might to make this nightmare go away. All around him, he could still hear the agonizing screams of people being crushed, the hell mary of bullets being cast at the demon bigger than a city, the teeth rattling explosions... The soul shaking bellows.
This was his home, New Delhi. The boy had just finished dinner, and was watching TV an hour ago... When hell arose from the depths. Now, the boy could only witness as flames overtook Mumbai, hundreds of thousands of people were either crushed or swallowed whole, and the only hope of killing whatever it was that was ravaging the land, be wiped out. The boy looked up to see the shadowy serpent rear its ugly head into the sky, and scream a sound that one could only describe as, "chilling". The boy would remember that sound for the rest of his life, a sound that made him wish he wasn't alive anymore, a sound that caused him to weep in uncontrollable agony and despair.
This was his home, New Delhi. Now, it was no longer.
*****
Washington D.C.
Deep within the wilderness of D.C., lied what had to have been the biggest secret ever kept in world history. Only a handful of government personnel even know it exists, and even the President of the United States doesn't truly know what lies inside of the massive, opaque dome where this secret operation takes place. The individuals who are in the know of what really occurs here, and what is inside, all must sign a stack of documents at least two inches thick. These documents state that if they are sworn to absolute secrecy, and if they ever were to reveal even the tiniest detail of what truly took place within the dome... They would be swiftly eliminated. To the everyday public that may happen to stumble across this operation, they walk away convinced that a team of biologists are merely studying the plant life in the area, to hopefully further advance modern day medicine. What these clueless souls don't, and will never know, is that there is something inside of this large dome, of which has been apply named the, "Eldritch facility)... Is something that, if ever awoken, would destroy the world as they knew it.
Evening had set on Washington, and inside of the Eldritch facility, were a dozen scientists and agents alike, hard at work monitoring various signals and readings on several dozen computer stations, scattered throughout the entire structure. The dome housed four main floors: a top floor dedicated to any head officials and important meetings, a second floor that was used to keep track of any and all activity in space, a third floor for the plethora of different readings and signals from... HIM. And lastly, the bottom floor, the one that led miles and miles underground, the one that housed HIM... At least... Some of him. This floor was only for a very, very select few of individuals a part of this whole operation, and their job was to essentially make sure that they didn't hear any... Noises, coming from him that would draw concern. Down there now, was the head of the entire thing: a certain James Dickerson. He was a tall and broad man, with an ever thinning patch of black hair on his head, a hearty jawline, stern green eyes, and cleanly shaven. Dickerson didn't even know how he managed to get involved with this insanity, let alone become the head of it. Ever since the bastard crash landed on his planet decades ago, James was thrust right square into the shit, and still can't find a way out to this day.
He stood in front of an utterly enormous, white wall, one that made him look like a fly by comparison. He stood there, just... Looking at it, his face as blank as an empty sheet of paper. Upon hearing a pair of footsteps walking up behind him, James was shaken from his trance, and glanced over his shoulder to see who it was. It was Mason White, James' second-in-command, and closest friend. Mason was on the shorter side, chubby, and always wore an obvious toupee to cover up his shiny cranium. He had colored his graying beard black, but that didn't exactly look any better. Mason stood beside James and gave him a solid pat on the shoulder, before following his friend's gaze to that peculiar white wall.
"I just came down to tell you I was gone for the day." Mason said.
James nodded, "That's fine, Mason. I'll see you in the morning."
Mason gave him a friendly slap on the arm, and turned to head back towards the elevator. The man slowed to a stop, turned halfway, and said, "You know, James, they say that the devil has multiple heads." He motioned to the, "wall". "Well, I count four on that son-of-a-bitch."
Mason then turned around, and sauntered out of the vast room, leaving James alone once more. The grizzled man kept his eyes glued on the structure before him, and sighed deeply. "The devil has four heads." He murmured, before finally turning away from the wall and heading to the exit as well.
The funny thing is, no walls in existence ever narrowed to a point...
Last edited by Godzilla165 on Sat Jan 27, 2018 12:51 pm, edited 1 time in total.
#BotM
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Zarm
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Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
“Sir!”
The wiry Ensign saluted as he entered General Bridgewell’s office, his nervous manner betraying the fact that he was delivering bad news. Bridgewell struggled to remember the man’s name as he nodded curtly at his trembling subordinate.
“At ease, Ensign. Report.”
The Ensign fell unconsciously into the at-ease stance, his legs spread just a little too far apart to steady his balance on the Gerald R. Ford’s pitching deck. The folder of papers in his hand- doubtless supporting documentation- seemed momentarily forgotten as the Ensign dredged up his report falteringly from memory.
“As you know, sir,” the nervous-looking man noted, “Some of the kaiju we’re able to maintain a constant fix on, actively tracking their movement. Others, for some reason, will only give us an intermittent lock. They suddenly pop up somewhere with no warning from the Z.A.R.M. Station, and we simply have to update our maps accordingly- scratching our head, wondering why it is that we couldn't see their arrival coming. It's something our people are still working on-“
“I know all this,” Bridgewell growled. “Skip to the point.”
“Yes, sir. One of the Kaiju that we lost track of for awhile, Ramen no- …Ryo-man... No... Hebee? Hebeye? ...Uh, well, it's suddenly popped up again. At first we thought it was in eastern Mumbai, just a stone’s throw away from Carnaris. Then the fix stabilized in New Delhi. We think that all the electromagnetic interference from Carnaris is bouncing echoes of our tracking pulses off, like a natural scattering field-“
“You've confirmed New Delhi?” Bridgewell demanded.
“Uh, well... the techs are 90% sure. It's definitely that vicinity. Which means...” The wiry man trailed off, pushing his spectacles further up his face.
“Which means if it has any territorial instincts at all, or the lizard vice-versa,” Bridgewell finished softly, “A confrontation between it and Carnaris is all but inevitable.”
Bridgewell rubbed at the bridge of his nose, pinching his eyes shut. Exactly as he'd feared. Titan Protocol. There had been a few minor skirmishes between kaiju already, and certainly between the great beasts and the military… but this was tracking an oncoming storm. Helplessly watching of the larger behemoths on a slow, inevitable collision course that would undoubtedly result in untold collateral damage. And here he was, stuck in Panama, perpetually baiting a trap that it seemed none of the kaiju had any interest in springing. Meanwhile, India was facing the full force of two kaiju’s wrath.
There were rumors that some of the hotheads at the U.N. were even talking about sending a nuke to the first major kaiju conjunction- ‘killing two birds with one stone,’ they said, heedless of the larger ramifications. If they carried through that plan here, regardless of the population density and fallout potential…
About the only worse place in the world they could set them off would be in a place like Beijing.
But nuke or no nuke, the brawl between two of these giants would be enough to level the countryside. And here were two of them, within hours of each other at last. A showdown almost a forgone conclusion.
And nothing that he, or anyone else in the world could do about it.
"Heaven help us all," he murmured.
The wiry Ensign saluted as he entered General Bridgewell’s office, his nervous manner betraying the fact that he was delivering bad news. Bridgewell struggled to remember the man’s name as he nodded curtly at his trembling subordinate.
“At ease, Ensign. Report.”
The Ensign fell unconsciously into the at-ease stance, his legs spread just a little too far apart to steady his balance on the Gerald R. Ford’s pitching deck. The folder of papers in his hand- doubtless supporting documentation- seemed momentarily forgotten as the Ensign dredged up his report falteringly from memory.
“As you know, sir,” the nervous-looking man noted, “Some of the kaiju we’re able to maintain a constant fix on, actively tracking their movement. Others, for some reason, will only give us an intermittent lock. They suddenly pop up somewhere with no warning from the Z.A.R.M. Station, and we simply have to update our maps accordingly- scratching our head, wondering why it is that we couldn't see their arrival coming. It's something our people are still working on-“
“I know all this,” Bridgewell growled. “Skip to the point.”
“Yes, sir. One of the Kaiju that we lost track of for awhile, Ramen no- …Ryo-man... No... Hebee? Hebeye? ...Uh, well, it's suddenly popped up again. At first we thought it was in eastern Mumbai, just a stone’s throw away from Carnaris. Then the fix stabilized in New Delhi. We think that all the electromagnetic interference from Carnaris is bouncing echoes of our tracking pulses off, like a natural scattering field-“
“You've confirmed New Delhi?” Bridgewell demanded.
“Uh, well... the techs are 90% sure. It's definitely that vicinity. Which means...” The wiry man trailed off, pushing his spectacles further up his face.
“Which means if it has any territorial instincts at all, or the lizard vice-versa,” Bridgewell finished softly, “A confrontation between it and Carnaris is all but inevitable.”
Bridgewell rubbed at the bridge of his nose, pinching his eyes shut. Exactly as he'd feared. Titan Protocol. There had been a few minor skirmishes between kaiju already, and certainly between the great beasts and the military… but this was tracking an oncoming storm. Helplessly watching of the larger behemoths on a slow, inevitable collision course that would undoubtedly result in untold collateral damage. And here he was, stuck in Panama, perpetually baiting a trap that it seemed none of the kaiju had any interest in springing. Meanwhile, India was facing the full force of two kaiju’s wrath.
There were rumors that some of the hotheads at the U.N. were even talking about sending a nuke to the first major kaiju conjunction- ‘killing two birds with one stone,’ they said, heedless of the larger ramifications. If they carried through that plan here, regardless of the population density and fallout potential…
About the only worse place in the world they could set them off would be in a place like Beijing.
But nuke or no nuke, the brawl between two of these giants would be enough to level the countryside. And here were two of them, within hours of each other at last. A showdown almost a forgone conclusion.
And nothing that he, or anyone else in the world could do about it.
"Heaven help us all," he murmured.
The grace of God is a greater gift than we can truly fathom; undeserved mercy is a kindness humbling in its sheer scope.KaijuCanuck wrote:It’s part of my secret plan to create a fifth column in the US, pre-emoting our glorious conquest and the creation of the Canadian Empire, upon which the sun will consistently set after less than eight hours of daylight.
The Zone Fighter campaign is complete, with all episodes subtitled! PM me if you need a link location.
Maranatha!
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Godzilla165
- Xilien Halfling
- Posts: 6078
- Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2012 9:37 am
Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
Somewhere above the North Pacific...
High above the clouds, almost to the stratosphere, saw Hanjiru gliding noiselessly through the sky. She was near whisper quiet as she flew, even the wind slipping under and over her barely made any sound. For the most part, Hanjiru glided comfortably, only making the occasional flap to maintain her buoyancy. The crystalline dragon had been hunting, hunting for him for days now, but with no real success. Every now and again, she would swear that she picked up the faintest spike of energy somewhere across the globe, but it would disappear before Hanjiru could even think about chasing it. Perhaps she was simply going stir crazy in trying to locate her mortal enemy. She had seen him raze far too many civilizations, and ravage entire planets already. It needed to end, and it needed to end here.
Hanjiru had also been aware of the other beasts that had begun to arise in different parts of the world. She would have done something about them, but that was the problem with it just being one of her: Hanjiru couldn't be in multiple places at once. Instead, the dragon prioritized which lifeforms seemed to be the biggest problems, and sought those out first. Plus, this world had a much bigger issue bubbling up somewhere, she just needed to find him.
It was just then, when Hanjiru's acute senses picked up two, rather peculiar sources of energy somewhere on the globe. They were weak, but she could still somewhat make them out to be of Kaiju origin. This was one of those times of prioritization. With a single, great flap of her wings, Hanjiru changed her course of direction, and made a beeline towards this new area of possible interest. However, if Hanjiru's instincts were correct, then wherever said area was, was a long ways away from wherever she was currently; she'd never get there in time. Still, if there was a chance that Hanjiru could prevent further destruction of this world, however small, she was going to take it.
High above the clouds, almost to the stratosphere, saw Hanjiru gliding noiselessly through the sky. She was near whisper quiet as she flew, even the wind slipping under and over her barely made any sound. For the most part, Hanjiru glided comfortably, only making the occasional flap to maintain her buoyancy. The crystalline dragon had been hunting, hunting for him for days now, but with no real success. Every now and again, she would swear that she picked up the faintest spike of energy somewhere across the globe, but it would disappear before Hanjiru could even think about chasing it. Perhaps she was simply going stir crazy in trying to locate her mortal enemy. She had seen him raze far too many civilizations, and ravage entire planets already. It needed to end, and it needed to end here.
Hanjiru had also been aware of the other beasts that had begun to arise in different parts of the world. She would have done something about them, but that was the problem with it just being one of her: Hanjiru couldn't be in multiple places at once. Instead, the dragon prioritized which lifeforms seemed to be the biggest problems, and sought those out first. Plus, this world had a much bigger issue bubbling up somewhere, she just needed to find him.
It was just then, when Hanjiru's acute senses picked up two, rather peculiar sources of energy somewhere on the globe. They were weak, but she could still somewhat make them out to be of Kaiju origin. This was one of those times of prioritization. With a single, great flap of her wings, Hanjiru changed her course of direction, and made a beeline towards this new area of possible interest. However, if Hanjiru's instincts were correct, then wherever said area was, was a long ways away from wherever she was currently; she'd never get there in time. Still, if there was a chance that Hanjiru could prevent further destruction of this world, however small, she was going to take it.
#BotM
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Zarm
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Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
Somewhere below the North Pacific
Midway through his interminably-long swim, Tektua paused. There was a presence above him; unfamiliar, exotic. In all its travels, Tekuta had never felt it before... and that was impossible. All kaiju, it knew.
And yet... the presence seemed benign. Perhaps even kindred. And it was both far too fast, and far too high, for it to do anything about.
Eyestalks swiveling downward, Tekuta resumed its swim. Almost there, now...
Midway through his interminably-long swim, Tektua paused. There was a presence above him; unfamiliar, exotic. In all its travels, Tekuta had never felt it before... and that was impossible. All kaiju, it knew.
And yet... the presence seemed benign. Perhaps even kindred. And it was both far too fast, and far too high, for it to do anything about.
Eyestalks swiveling downward, Tekuta resumed its swim. Almost there, now...
The grace of God is a greater gift than we can truly fathom; undeserved mercy is a kindness humbling in its sheer scope.KaijuCanuck wrote:It’s part of my secret plan to create a fifth column in the US, pre-emoting our glorious conquest and the creation of the Canadian Empire, upon which the sun will consistently set after less than eight hours of daylight.
The Zone Fighter campaign is complete, with all episodes subtitled! PM me if you need a link location.
Maranatha!
-
Godzilla165
- Xilien Halfling
- Posts: 6078
- Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2012 9:37 am
Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
Sydney Airport.
Amelia was sat at a table in Sydney airport, eating a bite of lunch, and awaiting for her plane to arrive. Her eyes were glued to a television screen hanging in front of her, showcasing the disasters that had erupted in India. "India under siege by cryptids", the headline said. Amelia didn't know what to think, honestly. The world had been flipped entirely on its head; beasts that would have previously only been seen in various stories and legends, had revealed themselves to be true. Amelia could only imagine how many more were possibly out there, and if all of them were as malicious as the ones terrorizing India. Beside the news report, was a live chart showcasing how many lives had been taken so far. Tragically, it was in the tens of thousands, and steadily growing by the second. Amelia threw down the croissant she had been eating; she wasn't hungry anymore.
Just then, her phone buzzed on the table, and she saw that it was a call from James. Amelia sighed, she didn't feel like talking much at all right now, but she didn't exactly have a choice. She answered with an exasperated, "hello?"
"McClain? Wh-where the hell are you?!" James demanded.
"At the airport, my plane is running a little late, why?"
"Why? Amelia, the board members are starting to get frustrated that one of their top heads isn't here, and I'm running out of excuses to cover for you." James retorted.
"Yeah well, the old fuddy duddies should have better things to do right now, than constantly worrying about where I am." Amelia dryly said.
There was a pause.
"So I take it you've seen the news then?"
Amelia nodded to herself, "Yeah."
James leaned back in his chair. "Can you believe it, Ami? Monsters on Earth... Jesus."
"You can say that again. What is the UN planning to do about this?"
"You won't believe this, but they've already settled on using nuclear warheads to try and deal with these bloody things." James scoffed.
"What?!"
"And the worst part? The world's governments all agree with the decision."
"Idiots." Amelia muttered.
"Yeah well, as long as the problem is dealt with, it doesn't matter who dies in the process, right?"
"Not funny, James."
"Wasn't trying to be, that's just the reality that we're in right now." James said.
"Not if I can help it..." Amelia murmured.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Look, I've gotta go, I think my flight is here."
It wasn't, but Amelia just had to get off before James could say anything else; the man was starting to grate on her already tempered nerves. She would already have to deal with the incessant nagging and scolding from everyone else when she got back.
"One of the top UN members, and they still treat me like a bloody child." Amelia scoffed to herself. Over the intercom, the call for flight B had just been issued.
Looks like it was here after all.
Godzilla! King of the Monsters!
It's alive!
A gigantic beast, stalking the Earth!
Crushing all before it!
In a psychotic cavalcade...
The living room TV sounded in front of Laurence. He was lying on his belly, entranced by this ancient piece of cinema. Behind him, sitting on the couch and reading a book, was one of his, "siblings", Michael. Michael was three years older than Laurence, had gray eyes, long black hair, and a pale complexion. Michael was put into foster care after his parents dumped him there and ran off to live in Paris. He didn't mind it now, though. They were to him, "two drunken assholes", anyway. Michael peered up from the book he was reading to see what Laurence was watching, and shook his head.
"Don't you think that's kinda distasteful?" He asked.
"How is it distasteful?" Laurence said, not taking his eyes off the screen.
Michael shrugged, "I dunno, I just think after all the crap that's been going on in the news, watching an old monster movie isn't really...Appropriate."
"It helps me concentrate."
"Uh huh, that's what you always say, bud."
"Whatever, Twilight boy." Laurence shot back.
Michael smirked, "Hey, these books are better than people give them credit for, alright?"
"Boys, come on, time to eat!" Bobby Hanes, their foster Dad, called from the kitchen.
Michael plopped his book down, and leaped up from the couch. "Come on, monster boy, let's get you some food." He said, giving Laurence a playful kick in his side. "And turn that off, would ya? It'll scare the other kids."
Laurence rolled his eyes, but he did as he was told. The King of the Monsters would have to wait.
Ryōmen no Hebi continued his path of destruction in New Delhi, making sure that no building was left standing. His serpentine body swept over everything in his path, flattening them with ease. He was constantly being pelted and pummeled by artillery fire and tank rounds, but didn't pay them any mind. One tank round exploded against the ear of one of the tiger heads, causing Ryōmen no Hebi to come to a stop. The giant snake contorted his body to find the foolish soul that dared to strike him, and his four eyes pinpointed the armored vehicle pointed at him below. It looked like a toy compared to Ryōmen no Hebi. He bent down to get a closer look at the peculiar object, and opened the mouth of one of his feline heads, separating its jaw just like a snake. Without warning, toxic green gas poured from the tiger's mouth, filling the streets of New Delhi in a matter of seconds. Then, once the cloud of death was planted, the maw of the second tiger sparked to life. In an instant, using the incredibly flammable gas as a medium, the big cat vomited a torrent of flame so large, that it could been seen across the entirety of India. New Delhi was enveloped in a sea of towering fire. Ryōmen no Hebi swept the over-sized flamethrower to and fro, cooking every single object in the vicinity. Whatever humans that may have still been alive were instantly melted to ash, buildings reduced to red hot sludge.
While the two cats burned everything in their path, the cobra took a different approach. Its scaly head hissed and barked, before splitting apart, revealing a set of crocodilian jaws hidden within. This second pair spread itself open, and spewed forth a bolt of lightning that cascaded across the ruined city. One after the other, jagged streams of searing hot energy tore chunks out of whatever buildings were left standing, and ravaged the streets below, leaving expansive scars in their wake. Remaining pilots in attack choppers merely watched on in horror.
"What the fuck..." One murmured.
"To all remaining military personnel: find and rescue any survivors that you can, and retreat! We can't...We can't beat this thing." A fellow pilot stated over the radio.
Without hesitation, they turned the helicopters around and high tailed it to safety. However the UN was planning to kill these things, they needed to do it soon. Ryōmen no Hebi bellowed and hissed into the new dawn, sounding a challenge that traveled for miles.
Amelia was sat at a table in Sydney airport, eating a bite of lunch, and awaiting for her plane to arrive. Her eyes were glued to a television screen hanging in front of her, showcasing the disasters that had erupted in India. "India under siege by cryptids", the headline said. Amelia didn't know what to think, honestly. The world had been flipped entirely on its head; beasts that would have previously only been seen in various stories and legends, had revealed themselves to be true. Amelia could only imagine how many more were possibly out there, and if all of them were as malicious as the ones terrorizing India. Beside the news report, was a live chart showcasing how many lives had been taken so far. Tragically, it was in the tens of thousands, and steadily growing by the second. Amelia threw down the croissant she had been eating; she wasn't hungry anymore.
Just then, her phone buzzed on the table, and she saw that it was a call from James. Amelia sighed, she didn't feel like talking much at all right now, but she didn't exactly have a choice. She answered with an exasperated, "hello?"
"McClain? Wh-where the hell are you?!" James demanded.
"At the airport, my plane is running a little late, why?"
"Why? Amelia, the board members are starting to get frustrated that one of their top heads isn't here, and I'm running out of excuses to cover for you." James retorted.
"Yeah well, the old fuddy duddies should have better things to do right now, than constantly worrying about where I am." Amelia dryly said.
There was a pause.
"So I take it you've seen the news then?"
Amelia nodded to herself, "Yeah."
James leaned back in his chair. "Can you believe it, Ami? Monsters on Earth... Jesus."
"You can say that again. What is the UN planning to do about this?"
"You won't believe this, but they've already settled on using nuclear warheads to try and deal with these bloody things." James scoffed.
"What?!"
"And the worst part? The world's governments all agree with the decision."
"Idiots." Amelia muttered.
"Yeah well, as long as the problem is dealt with, it doesn't matter who dies in the process, right?"
"Not funny, James."
"Wasn't trying to be, that's just the reality that we're in right now." James said.
"Not if I can help it..." Amelia murmured.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Look, I've gotta go, I think my flight is here."
It wasn't, but Amelia just had to get off before James could say anything else; the man was starting to grate on her already tempered nerves. She would already have to deal with the incessant nagging and scolding from everyone else when she got back.
"One of the top UN members, and they still treat me like a bloody child." Amelia scoffed to herself. Over the intercom, the call for flight B had just been issued.
Looks like it was here after all.
*****
Godzilla! King of the Monsters!
It's alive!
A gigantic beast, stalking the Earth!
Crushing all before it!
In a psychotic cavalcade...
The living room TV sounded in front of Laurence. He was lying on his belly, entranced by this ancient piece of cinema. Behind him, sitting on the couch and reading a book, was one of his, "siblings", Michael. Michael was three years older than Laurence, had gray eyes, long black hair, and a pale complexion. Michael was put into foster care after his parents dumped him there and ran off to live in Paris. He didn't mind it now, though. They were to him, "two drunken assholes", anyway. Michael peered up from the book he was reading to see what Laurence was watching, and shook his head.
"Don't you think that's kinda distasteful?" He asked.
"How is it distasteful?" Laurence said, not taking his eyes off the screen.
Michael shrugged, "I dunno, I just think after all the crap that's been going on in the news, watching an old monster movie isn't really...Appropriate."
"It helps me concentrate."
"Uh huh, that's what you always say, bud."
"Whatever, Twilight boy." Laurence shot back.
Michael smirked, "Hey, these books are better than people give them credit for, alright?"
"Boys, come on, time to eat!" Bobby Hanes, their foster Dad, called from the kitchen.
Michael plopped his book down, and leaped up from the couch. "Come on, monster boy, let's get you some food." He said, giving Laurence a playful kick in his side. "And turn that off, would ya? It'll scare the other kids."
Laurence rolled his eyes, but he did as he was told. The King of the Monsters would have to wait.
*****
Ryōmen no Hebi continued his path of destruction in New Delhi, making sure that no building was left standing. His serpentine body swept over everything in his path, flattening them with ease. He was constantly being pelted and pummeled by artillery fire and tank rounds, but didn't pay them any mind. One tank round exploded against the ear of one of the tiger heads, causing Ryōmen no Hebi to come to a stop. The giant snake contorted his body to find the foolish soul that dared to strike him, and his four eyes pinpointed the armored vehicle pointed at him below. It looked like a toy compared to Ryōmen no Hebi. He bent down to get a closer look at the peculiar object, and opened the mouth of one of his feline heads, separating its jaw just like a snake. Without warning, toxic green gas poured from the tiger's mouth, filling the streets of New Delhi in a matter of seconds. Then, once the cloud of death was planted, the maw of the second tiger sparked to life. In an instant, using the incredibly flammable gas as a medium, the big cat vomited a torrent of flame so large, that it could been seen across the entirety of India. New Delhi was enveloped in a sea of towering fire. Ryōmen no Hebi swept the over-sized flamethrower to and fro, cooking every single object in the vicinity. Whatever humans that may have still been alive were instantly melted to ash, buildings reduced to red hot sludge.
While the two cats burned everything in their path, the cobra took a different approach. Its scaly head hissed and barked, before splitting apart, revealing a set of crocodilian jaws hidden within. This second pair spread itself open, and spewed forth a bolt of lightning that cascaded across the ruined city. One after the other, jagged streams of searing hot energy tore chunks out of whatever buildings were left standing, and ravaged the streets below, leaving expansive scars in their wake. Remaining pilots in attack choppers merely watched on in horror.
"What the fuck..." One murmured.
"To all remaining military personnel: find and rescue any survivors that you can, and retreat! We can't...We can't beat this thing." A fellow pilot stated over the radio.
Without hesitation, they turned the helicopters around and high tailed it to safety. However the UN was planning to kill these things, they needed to do it soon. Ryōmen no Hebi bellowed and hissed into the new dawn, sounding a challenge that traveled for miles.
Last edited by Godzilla165 on Fri Feb 02, 2018 12:13 pm, edited 1 time in total.
#BotM
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Zarm
- E.S.P.Spy
- Posts: 4973
- Joined: Tue Jun 28, 2016 3:21 pm
- Location: USA, East Coast
- Contact:
Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
Mumbai
Carnaris' sonic-pulse ray swept a line of low buildings, denting and crushing them- and with a contraction of her diaphragm, another of the pulses burst from her mouth to travel along the carrier, smashing into a low compound of coils and boxes- spraying twisted scrap metal into the air as the small artificial forest became a crater.
Across the city, lights flickered and died- and Carnaris slumped, marginally. The irritation that tickled at the edge of her senses had ceased; she knew peace again.
Without that annoyance, this region wasn't half-bad. The boxes would need flattening, the ground to be broken up- but the terrain was pleasant. Perhaps it would make an effective nest-
A bright glow blazed on the horizon, as if a second sun was rising to the north of the first. Carnaris stared into the lights without flinching- but her eyes narrowed all the same.
As the glow died, the sound of a distant howl reached her sensitive ears.
Carnaris snuffed, once, and turned herself toward the dark plume that hazily rose over that distant horizon. Similar plumes rose all around her feet- but for now, the prospective next was forgotten. Carnaris began to walk- slowly at first, then with rising enthusiasm, as the boxes crumbled against her thighs and chest. She bared her teeth in the reptilian equivalent of a smile.
She had anticipated a long hunt for this would-be rival; but now, it declared a challenge to her. Announced its presence as the alpha-male of this island.
Well, that might be. Among males, it might have no equal.
But the Queen of the Monsters was ready to claim her territory, and she feared no male.
Carnaris' sonic-pulse ray swept a line of low buildings, denting and crushing them- and with a contraction of her diaphragm, another of the pulses burst from her mouth to travel along the carrier, smashing into a low compound of coils and boxes- spraying twisted scrap metal into the air as the small artificial forest became a crater.
Across the city, lights flickered and died- and Carnaris slumped, marginally. The irritation that tickled at the edge of her senses had ceased; she knew peace again.
Without that annoyance, this region wasn't half-bad. The boxes would need flattening, the ground to be broken up- but the terrain was pleasant. Perhaps it would make an effective nest-
A bright glow blazed on the horizon, as if a second sun was rising to the north of the first. Carnaris stared into the lights without flinching- but her eyes narrowed all the same.
As the glow died, the sound of a distant howl reached her sensitive ears.
Carnaris snuffed, once, and turned herself toward the dark plume that hazily rose over that distant horizon. Similar plumes rose all around her feet- but for now, the prospective next was forgotten. Carnaris began to walk- slowly at first, then with rising enthusiasm, as the boxes crumbled against her thighs and chest. She bared her teeth in the reptilian equivalent of a smile.
She had anticipated a long hunt for this would-be rival; but now, it declared a challenge to her. Announced its presence as the alpha-male of this island.
Well, that might be. Among males, it might have no equal.
But the Queen of the Monsters was ready to claim her territory, and she feared no male.
The grace of God is a greater gift than we can truly fathom; undeserved mercy is a kindness humbling in its sheer scope.KaijuCanuck wrote:It’s part of my secret plan to create a fifth column in the US, pre-emoting our glorious conquest and the creation of the Canadian Empire, upon which the sun will consistently set after less than eight hours of daylight.
The Zone Fighter campaign is complete, with all episodes subtitled! PM me if you need a link location.
Maranatha!
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KaijuCanuck
- Futurian
- Posts: 3451
- Joined: Wed Jun 21, 2017 4:12 pm
- Location: The Milky Way
Re: Emergence: Kaiju Invasion
Location: UN Building, New York, USA
Archie watched despondently as the Brazilian delegation left the small conference room that he and Rachel had managed to quietly sequester. Rachel held the door open for them, smiling and thanking them for their time, but Archie knew that smile masked a deep disappointment. She had been banking on his negotiation skills, and he had promised them, and now that was two delegations in a row who had refused to play ball. The Australians sympathized with the cause, but were too reluctant to leave the US camp and forgo the possible rewards of a US controlled Marianas Island, and now the Brazilians didn't want to make any sudden moves and anger China, and lose the chance of more investment in their developing economy. Archie tried to catch Rachel's eye and shoot her an "I'm sorry" look, but she didn't look over.
Archie sat down, running his hands quickly through his hair as he typically did when he was stressed. He had already been gone from the General Assembly took long. Soon, Jean would be wondering where he was, and then the game would be up. Archie would no longer be able to pretend that he hadn't actually just gone slightly rogue.
Suddenly, Archie heard Rachel talking with someone new, and he looked up to see five Asian diplomats file into the room - the delegation from Japan. They gave him polite smiles, and then sat down in silence. They looked at him. He looked back at them. Uhhhhhh...
"Mister Fletcher," said one, an older man who appeared to be in charge. "I am chief Ambassador to the UN Kunagawa. I am told you have a proposition for us."
"Yes..." Archie began slowly, getting his head together. "Yes!" He stood up. Third time's the charm. "Thank you for coming, Ambassador Kunagawa. I know time is tight and everyone is very busy." Archie took a pause. "Sir, the situation is very dangerous.
At that, Kunagawa gave a short laugh. "This is what you wanted to tell us? Yes, Mr. Fletcher, I quite agree".
"I don't mean out there, ambassador, I mean here, in this building. The world is falling apart from attacks by a common enemy, and yet somehow we find ourselves on the brink of a three-way war," Archie replied. "The US, Russia and China are all concerned over the possibilities of the new discoveries on Marianas Island, and while I don't doubt their commitment to saving their own citizens, they are equally blinded by their geopolitical concerns over what the other might do with the new materials."
Kunugawa nodded. "I sense you are right Mr. Fletcher, but such tensions are not a new circumstance. I lived through the Cold War. In the end, cooler heads prevailed."
"With respect sir, the Cold War occurred at a time of great economic growth in both the US and USSR," Archie countered. "This is different. We have never faced the possibility of a destructive war between modern powers whilst everyone is already being pushed to the brink by a threat we in no way understand. We are desperate, and desperate people do not always act rationally or co-operatively. Who knows, maybe the secret to defeating the kaiju really is on Marianas Island. But can the Americans be sure the Russians won't use it on them next? Can the Russians, or the Chinese?"
Finally, Archie's words seemed to hit home. Kunugawa looked down at his hands, contemplating. But then one of his junior diplomats, a young Japanese woman, spoke up. "Aren't you only a junior like me? I thought Ambassador Grenier was in charge of the Canadian delegation." Kunugawa looked up at Archie, concerned.
Archie chose his words carefully. "That... is true. But Ambassador Grenier is - WILL, be on board. And if I know my government, any chance to look like we're doing something on the world stage, we'll take."
Kunugawa laughed. "I admire your spirit, Mr. Fletcher. But even if you can deliver, Canada, Israel and Japan are nothing without a member of the Security Council. Even then, without the US on board..."
"I know, sir. I know. And we'd need at least two more members in the coalition to adequately man the control centre downstairs. But that's why we have to show them. If we can SHOW them that a united front is sustainable, that it will work, then we can bring them around. I know it."
"It's too risky. If it fails, we'll have wasted time. As it is, Japan stands a greater chance for survival as a US ally. Canada too, I might add."
"You'll still be an ally. We'll all be allies! This isn't about forming a new side, it's about forming the ONLY side!" Archie was starting to get flustered. He paused, calming himself. "Sir, if there is a war, it probably won't be with tanks and planes and bullets. We'll all die, and it won't be the kaiju who do it. When I graduated university, I went travelling for a few months. I visited Hiroshima. I met the ghosts, sir, of your country. If we don't bring this world together, the whole world will be Hiroshima."
The word 'Hiroshima' seemed to hang in the air. Kunugawa leaned back in his chair, thinking. The female junior diplomat, who had spoken earlier, tapped his shoulder, and motioned to something she had in one of her files. Kunugawa looked at her long and hard, and finally nodded. She stood up.
"I am Junior Diplomat Emiko Sesane. The Japanese government has been developing a new weapon to serve as an anti-nuclear defense system. It remains a prototype, but we have already looked into how to re-tool it to respond to the current crisis." Emiko made to hand Archie the piece of paper from her file, but gently Kunugawa stopped her, saying something in Japanese. She sat down. Kunugawa looked at Archie.
"All in good time, Mr. Fletcher, but a hint, perhaps, at our commitment to fighting the common enemy. You have caught our interest. Perhaps we will join this... coalition."
Archie watched despondently as the Brazilian delegation left the small conference room that he and Rachel had managed to quietly sequester. Rachel held the door open for them, smiling and thanking them for their time, but Archie knew that smile masked a deep disappointment. She had been banking on his negotiation skills, and he had promised them, and now that was two delegations in a row who had refused to play ball. The Australians sympathized with the cause, but were too reluctant to leave the US camp and forgo the possible rewards of a US controlled Marianas Island, and now the Brazilians didn't want to make any sudden moves and anger China, and lose the chance of more investment in their developing economy. Archie tried to catch Rachel's eye and shoot her an "I'm sorry" look, but she didn't look over.
Archie sat down, running his hands quickly through his hair as he typically did when he was stressed. He had already been gone from the General Assembly took long. Soon, Jean would be wondering where he was, and then the game would be up. Archie would no longer be able to pretend that he hadn't actually just gone slightly rogue.
Suddenly, Archie heard Rachel talking with someone new, and he looked up to see five Asian diplomats file into the room - the delegation from Japan. They gave him polite smiles, and then sat down in silence. They looked at him. He looked back at them. Uhhhhhh...
"Mister Fletcher," said one, an older man who appeared to be in charge. "I am chief Ambassador to the UN Kunagawa. I am told you have a proposition for us."
"Yes..." Archie began slowly, getting his head together. "Yes!" He stood up. Third time's the charm. "Thank you for coming, Ambassador Kunagawa. I know time is tight and everyone is very busy." Archie took a pause. "Sir, the situation is very dangerous.
At that, Kunagawa gave a short laugh. "This is what you wanted to tell us? Yes, Mr. Fletcher, I quite agree".
"I don't mean out there, ambassador, I mean here, in this building. The world is falling apart from attacks by a common enemy, and yet somehow we find ourselves on the brink of a three-way war," Archie replied. "The US, Russia and China are all concerned over the possibilities of the new discoveries on Marianas Island, and while I don't doubt their commitment to saving their own citizens, they are equally blinded by their geopolitical concerns over what the other might do with the new materials."
Kunugawa nodded. "I sense you are right Mr. Fletcher, but such tensions are not a new circumstance. I lived through the Cold War. In the end, cooler heads prevailed."
"With respect sir, the Cold War occurred at a time of great economic growth in both the US and USSR," Archie countered. "This is different. We have never faced the possibility of a destructive war between modern powers whilst everyone is already being pushed to the brink by a threat we in no way understand. We are desperate, and desperate people do not always act rationally or co-operatively. Who knows, maybe the secret to defeating the kaiju really is on Marianas Island. But can the Americans be sure the Russians won't use it on them next? Can the Russians, or the Chinese?"
Finally, Archie's words seemed to hit home. Kunugawa looked down at his hands, contemplating. But then one of his junior diplomats, a young Japanese woman, spoke up. "Aren't you only a junior like me? I thought Ambassador Grenier was in charge of the Canadian delegation." Kunugawa looked up at Archie, concerned.
Archie chose his words carefully. "That... is true. But Ambassador Grenier is - WILL, be on board. And if I know my government, any chance to look like we're doing something on the world stage, we'll take."
Kunugawa laughed. "I admire your spirit, Mr. Fletcher. But even if you can deliver, Canada, Israel and Japan are nothing without a member of the Security Council. Even then, without the US on board..."
"I know, sir. I know. And we'd need at least two more members in the coalition to adequately man the control centre downstairs. But that's why we have to show them. If we can SHOW them that a united front is sustainable, that it will work, then we can bring them around. I know it."
"It's too risky. If it fails, we'll have wasted time. As it is, Japan stands a greater chance for survival as a US ally. Canada too, I might add."
"You'll still be an ally. We'll all be allies! This isn't about forming a new side, it's about forming the ONLY side!" Archie was starting to get flustered. He paused, calming himself. "Sir, if there is a war, it probably won't be with tanks and planes and bullets. We'll all die, and it won't be the kaiju who do it. When I graduated university, I went travelling for a few months. I visited Hiroshima. I met the ghosts, sir, of your country. If we don't bring this world together, the whole world will be Hiroshima."
The word 'Hiroshima' seemed to hang in the air. Kunugawa leaned back in his chair, thinking. The female junior diplomat, who had spoken earlier, tapped his shoulder, and motioned to something she had in one of her files. Kunugawa looked at her long and hard, and finally nodded. She stood up.
"I am Junior Diplomat Emiko Sesane. The Japanese government has been developing a new weapon to serve as an anti-nuclear defense system. It remains a prototype, but we have already looked into how to re-tool it to respond to the current crisis." Emiko made to hand Archie the piece of paper from her file, but gently Kunugawa stopped her, saying something in Japanese. She sat down. Kunugawa looked at Archie.
"All in good time, Mr. Fletcher, but a hint, perhaps, at our commitment to fighting the common enemy. You have caught our interest. Perhaps we will join this... coalition."
Last edited by KaijuCanuck on Sat Feb 03, 2018 5:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.
