Author: Anthony Clemens | Banner: Landon Soto
Odo Island was in chaos.
After years of utter silence, their dreaded god, Godzilla, had returned. As the haunting sound of the bell echoed, the villagers stamped toward the shelters on the beach. In the chaos, a young man tried to help his grandfather run, holding him by one arm while telling him to move as fast as he could. He was so concerned with escaping, he missed where he was going, crashing to the ground. He pulled himself up, as his grandfather now took his chance to beg him to move, blinking sweat and dirt out of his eyes.
Anything further was stopped when a metallic, hellish wail broke the air. The two men looked up to the hill that overlooked their village. There, the demon stood. It was almost a one-to-one replica of the creature that the boy had seen plastered in all the history books, perhaps only slightly slimmer. The kaiju turned its beady eyes down, almost as if it was looking directly at them, as it let out another howl. The boy hugged his grandfather and closed his eyes, waiting for his demise.
The seconds seemed like hours as he waited still. Eventually, after such a large amount of time, he dared a glance. Godzilla stood immobile, his head now intensely focused on the sky. The boy followed the beast’s gaze, soon finding the entire crowd focused upon the sky above the village center.
Floating in the sky was a metallic cylinder. It hung in the sky, almost as if it was examining the species before it. The boy turned to his grandfather, hoping for him to give an explanation, but the old man simply shook his head and gestured for them to keep moving. They hobbled over, going with some of the crowd, though most just stood, hypnotized by the mysterious object. The boy looked at those he knew, terrified to think what lay beyond that cold chrome exterior.
On the inside of the ship, minds pulsed. They had found him. After all these years, Godzilla was once again in their grasp. Now, they would be complete. The ship opened up and a blinding light shot out. A gooey mass formed. Slowly, it stretched and molded, becoming a new form. The spell broke and the crowd began to run, screaming once more. The creature that eventually formed was hideous, a bizarre amalgamation. Leathery skin covered its body, misshapen like a child’s unfinished clay figure. Massive hands ending in long fingers stretched themselves out and twitched in anticipation. Stumpy legs trepidatiously firmly stood themselves on the earth. Finally, a head like a distorted viper looked up, amber eyes glinting and its mouth shaping itself into an evil grin. Orga, the ancient alien, slammed his fists into the ground and roared at his long sought desire.
Orga did not wait for Godzilla to move. He charged forward, crushing huts and people underfoot. The ache to acquire the genome, to become whole, was the only thing that ran through his desperate mind. Godzilla screeched at Orga and shot at the beast with a blast of yellow fire. Orga leaped over the fire, soaring above Godzilla’s head, before slamming himself down onto the saurian, his fists smashing down on the creature’s head.
The dazed Godzilla crumpled to the ground, so thoroughly discombobulated one could almost imagine the stars over his head. Orga lunged forward, his jaws ready to bite Godzilla, to take his very essence. Godzilla’s focus suddenly returned lightning fast, shooting up and smacking the leathery behemoth aside with a well-aimed elbow, knocking his foe into the cliff. Orga screeched and thrashed, wedged into the cliff. As Godzilla climbed to his feet he roared at Orga, rage contorting his features, but the alien merely sneered and crouched as Godzilla charged. The cretin believed he had him trapped. He was wrong.
In a flash, the hole in Orga’s shoulder exploded with an explosion of plasma, slamming into Godzilla. The monster king squealed as he was sent flying across the village. Buildings turned into toothpicks as his tail and feet obliterated them. Finally, the king crashed motionless in the waves at the village’s end. The tables turned, Orga leapt once more and pinned Godzilla down by the chest with one hand. His claws tore through the monster’s skin with incredible ease. What remained of the Millennians in Orga’s savage mind noted this with curiosity. Godzilla had noticeably thick skin, and it should not have been penetrated with such simplicity. Their interest was drowned by Orga’s hunger for completion. He lunged forward, clamping his jaws onto Godzilla’s arm.
Orga had expected many things. Blood, flesh, DNA, the sudden burning knowledge of true power, the feeling of wholeness, and the feeling of becoming the zenith of life. None of those came. Instead, his jaws clamped down on metal that dented under his jaws. Orga let go and looked closer at his pinned foe. The torn skin at Godzilla’s chest was not bleeding, but glittering, hints of a carefully constructed chest plate. And now that it had the beast pinned, Orga could see a cold, artificial light glowing behind “Godzilla’s” eyes. A primeval snarl came out of Orga’s mouth. Its mind could only come to one conclusion.
He removed his hand and slashed the rubber off, revealing the sculpted skull of an android monster. Mechagodzilla shrieked and blasted Orga off of him with a blinding rainbow beam from its ocular devices. Smoke sizzled off alien flesh yet Orga arose with little care for the minor wound for he was steaming from the revelation both physically and mentally. This was not Godzilla. This was simply a metal construct, covered in a Godzilla-like false skin. Pure rage began to take hold. After all these years sleeping and the countless more searching, THIS was the result of their search?!? Some crude machine disguised as the one thing it needed to achieve perfection, as if someone was playing a cruel joke? Orga roared at the fake Godzilla. His UFO moved to ominously hover behind its owner. This construction had angered them and delayed their quest. It would pay for that!
Simultaneously, both Orga and its ship blasted the mech with their Destructive Motion Rays. The robot was flung backward further into the sea. Smoke consumed that section of the ocean as it sank to the bottom, but Orga didn’t care. He turned and crawled over the remains of the village, beginning his walk to pastures new. He had hoped the search was over but this was clearly not the case. Now, it had to continue his hunt for Godzilla.
Suddenly, a searing beam hit Orga. The beast turned around and roared to find a gleaming opponent rising from the surf. Rubber skin clung to its body as joints groaned and lights blinked behind its crimson visors. Mechagodzilla’s shrill screech echoed at its foe as the ultimate weapon stepped out of the ocean to oppose Orga. The millennial hive mind debated their options. They could leave and continue their search. Surely, this beast looked like Godzilla for a reason, meaning their query was still out there. But, a powerful emotional urge took over this rational thought, an emotion they welcomed with open arms.
Their search had been delayed by this mech and now it had offered itself to them. They would enjoy destroying it. Nodding to itself, Orga slammed his fist in the ground, shaking the earth as he bellowed back at Mechagodzilla. He accepted this challenge. With that, the mutant ran forward to attack. He picked up speed in spite of his massive mass, knuckles slamming along as he charged. Mechagodzilla straightened up and with mechanical ease, stretched out its arms. They clicked to the side, and with a single command, an onslaught of missiles launched at the alien beast. Orga ground to a halt, as the missiles hit his hide to the point he was forced to simply crouch, hissing, his massive hand forming a makeshift shield. Fire and shockwaves ripped the environment around the alien asunder, turning flora to ash and sending the remnants flying but in the face of such overwhelming firepower, Orga remained steady, his rage pushing him through. The assault finally stopped after what seemed an eternity, and Orga dropped his hand, his cannon ready to blast Mechagodzilla. But to the creature’s shock, the machine was gone.
Just as he was beginning to wonder if it had been driven off, from above, Mechagodzilla revealed itself flying above. A concentrated eye lasers split Orga’s skull in half, spilling green ichor across the abomination’s grotesque flesh. Orga screamed through torn vocal cords but only produced what sounded as a cross between gurgling and growling. The metallic imposter strafed over the wounded monster before making another pass with the deadly lasers. With the blast atomizing a chunk of the alien’s leg, the beast’s blind determination could not longer keep it standing. Orga collapsed as his insane regeneration tried desperately to heal the wounds, but it possessed only a fraction of the time it desperately needed. Mechagodzilla landed with a crash nearby, orange triangular eyes peering through the dust it created as the jets in its feet shut off. Not wasting a minute for its enemy to heal, a flap on Mechagodzilla’s chest opened to unleash a torrent of electricity. It danced wildly across the landscape before striking Orga, tearing open healed wounds and opening new ones. Orga howled, curling into a ball in an attempt to protect itself. The unfeeling machine did not care, however, and marched forward as it continued its all-out attack.
However, this was a mistake.
Like a massive frog, Orga suddenly launched himself forward. He slammed into Mechagodzilla, nearly toppling the mech. The millennial monster made quick work of his foe’s chest cannon, tearing it to pieces with its fangs. Mechagodzilla roared in simulated agony as its exposed circuitry was torn apart, thrashing in Orga’s grasp.
The cosmic weapon began to spin its head at intense speeds, creating a force field that sliced straight though Orga’s hands! Shrieking in agonized surprise, Orga shied away like a beat dog. The two glared at each other through the force field as Orga’s hands grew new flesh, creating new bone and nerves in the matter of a minute. Cold, dead gold met primeval amber. If Mechagodzilla had the ability to create facial expressions, it would smirk. True, this brute was strong, but their weaponry was superior. All it needed was to hold out and keep pummeling it and soon, this organism would be no more.
Almost as if on cue, Orga roared in primal rage and began to slam into the barrier, using his massive hands to try and work around it. Mechagodzilla mocked its foe as it screeched. It could not get through. Soon it would tire and then it would strike. The deadly doppelganger slowly moved its arms forward, its artificial brain already readying for the pleasure of missiles clicking into place and the death rattle that would soon follow.
Just as the command was to be put in, Mechagodzilla’s mind exploded. He shrieked and thrashed about. What was happening? The shield fell as Mechagodzilla twitched and smoked. Its mind was filled with error messages and codes that it did not understand. By mere happenstance, the machine happened to look up. The Millennian ship hung above him. Realization just barely made it through the breakdown. Orga’s attack had only been a distraction, allowing for the brilliant savage to hack Mechagodzilla’s systems. System messages revealed it, everything was being shut down. Weapons, shields, combat programming, everything. While it still could, Mechagodzilla struck. It blasted the ship with his radiant Space Beams, causing it to fly off in an explosion of sparks. The damage was done though.
Mechagodzilla turned and looked at Orga, helplessness and fear suddenly introducing itself to his artificial mind. For its part, Orga was stoic. His face betrayed no emotion, only a cold predatory gaze. Without a single roar, hiss or call, Orga began to prowl forward. Mechagodzilla quickly activated its only weapon as the Space Beams returned. Without an aiming system, they flew over the approaching monster’s head. Pure hysteria took over the mind of Mechagodzilla. Beam after beam was shot out, some hitting the smoking ruins of the village, others flying past all together, and a lucky few grazing Orga’s hide. Still, the hybrid kept coming. Mechagodzilla’s mind raced, searching for some solution, ANY solution that would kill Orga, that would let it get past-
The village’s bell tower was crushed to splinters, as an oblong shape crashed through it. It rolled on the ground before coming to a stop. Blank yellow eyes, with no more illumination shining to give them their menacing life, stared blankly, a jaw left permanently agape. With a single backhand, Orga had decapitated the robotic double of Godzilla, leaving a sparking stump. Orga stopped for a minute, watching the machine twitch. Then, with a deep roar, he lunged forward, jaws clutching the neck. Orga went feral on the mech, pure animal rage met with a calculating mind knowing just the right place to dismantle it. By the time he stopped, the mighty Mechagodzilla was simply scrap on the ground. Orga let out a final howl before he teleported back to his ship in a flash of light. As cathartic as that was, their mission still remained. They must find Godzilla. The ship took off, stuttering and smoking. The Millennians knew they had to start somewhere, and so they began to go through the data they had collected from Mechagodzilla’s brain before it had been destroyed.
Slowly, the survivors of Odo emerged, awestruck. As the boy looked at his grandfather and tried to describe the godly battle that had just happened, he noticed movement further down on the beach. A group of men were walking up from the shore. They looked Japanese, clad in silver jumpsuits and were arguing among themselves. He ran toward them, assuming they were one of the people he heard came to fight these beasts. He was halfway down the beach when he fell to the ground with a crackle of air. The grandfather broke the silence and screamed as he saw his grandson, laying broken upon the ground. The leader of the group holstered his weapon and then nodded, before his squadron moved forward. By the time they were finished, the entire village had been slaughtered. A lone trooper walked back to the lone figure still on the beach.
“Commander Mugal.” He gave a curt salute and stood at attention.
Mugal did not respond at first. His gaze was focused on a piece of the wreckage in his hand; a shattered jagged piece of lens, all that remained of one of Mechagodzilla’s eyes.
“Commander Mugal?” the soldier gulped. “Sir?”
The commander finally turned his gaze to his inferior. Despite sunglasses obscuring his stare, the soldier still felt like he was face to face with a full-on death glare.
“The council wishes to know what your next plan is,” he eventually squeaked out.
Mugal sniffed and turned back to the beach.
“Inform the science division that rebuilding efforts will begin immediately. Use the U-KEO 75 prototype so we can increase efficiency.”
Relived that he and the rest of the troop had escaped another infamous breakdown, he began to make his way back to the ruined village.
“One thing, Private Uchirados.”
“Sir?” the Simeon asked.
“Let me know when we’re done with Mechagodzilla 2,” Mugal chuckled, throwing the fragment back on the ground. “I want to make that thing’s skull into my next desk.”
Mugal watched the inferior walk off, before giving the sky one final deep gaze. They were so close, but it still wasn’t enough. Still, always next time, as the apes say. For now, there was work to be done.