Author: Tyler Trieschock | Banner: Tyler Trieschock
Table of Contents:
Chapter 1: The Warrior & The Doctor
Chapter 2: Of Fear & Death
Chapter 3: Pridefall
Chapter 4: Together At Last
Chapter 5: Godzilla Junior & Anguirus vs. Destoroyah
Chapter 6: Blinded By Rage
Chapter 7: Gomora vs. Destoroyah
Chapter 8: Insight
Chapter 9: Destoroyah vs. Everyone
Chapter 10: A Path Forward
Chapter 11: To Endure & Protect
Chapter 12: Self-Destruction
Chapter 13: Death’s Standing
Chapter 1: The Warrior & The Doctor
Yamane Residence, Saitama Prefecture
Every step down the stone crafted walkway left a bitter taste in the back of Shinichi Ozaki’s throat. Throbbing pain, only comparable to starvation or having one’s internal organs twisted, ravaged his body, but they were not physical ailments, merely the manifestation of the guilt which plagued his very soul. He’d failed Ichiro Miki, Inspector Osako, Asagi Kusanagi, and now as he walked his path of failure, the weight of a new victim he could not protect haunted him: Ayana Moribe.
He was the best of the best, a leader among his mutant peers in his prime. What shame would those peers levy upon him now if they were still alive?
A cacophony of shouting snapped the wanderer’s mind to reality where four men charged toward him across a scenic, grass filled backyard. The body guards crossed Yamane property, hands on their guns to subdue the trespasser, but Ozaki closed the distance on his aggressors in a fraction of the time. No bullet left the chamber nor did any man have time to react before they hit the ground, unconscious from the series of precise blows delivered upon their bodies. Their stagnant, twitching forms indicated their human identities and confirmed to Ozaki all he needed to know.
Miki Yamane was home, not some imitation like Ayana. And in time, she would tell him all that he desperately needed to hear.
Reaching the Yamanes’ wooden patio, Ozaki tapped the sliding glass door with a series of clicks with his finger, drawing the attention of an unassuming man with glasses reading at his dining room table. The reader’s curious gaze, once focused on his cellular device, morphed into shock as he spotted the four unconscious men, causing Ozaki to roll his eyes in annoyance.
‘Great, all this for a talk.’
Grabbing the door and snapping the metallic lock like a twig, the glass barrier screeched open for all in the residence to hear. The lanky man stumbled out of his chair while Ozaki burst forth to subdue him like the others. A step was all the mutant could achieve before a woman materialized out of the air in front of his eyes.
Her long black hair, and soft, disarming presence were all that he needed to see. Miki Yamane was before him, or at least, some ethereal version of herself, and judging by the calming effect on the glasses wearing reader, he could see her too.
‘Calm down Shinichi.’ The placating words echoed from Miki without her lips parting. ‘I’ll be downstairs in a moment. Please, refrain from any more violence. It’s unneeded here.’
Shifting her attention away to the lanky man, she expressed a loving smile. The disarming nature of the woman seemed to eradicate the panic attack the man was about to experience a moment prior and just as fast as the vestige of Miki appeared, she vanished into nothing.
Allowing his arms to fall to his sides, Ozaki inhaled a steadying breath. He would have his talk, he merely needed to wait a few moments and begrudgingly, he would accept such a condition.
Then his path forward would be clear.
Stepping close, Ozaki extended an arm as both a greeting and an act of reconciliation to smooth over the aggression moments prior, but the man before him, now glaring so intensely Ozaki wondered if beams of heat would spark from his spectacles, ignored the signs of goodwill. Trying desperately to retain whatever composure he still possessed, Miki’s probable husband stepped away toward the kitchen, rejecting the offer.
“Mr. Yamane, I take it?” Ozaki spoke, trying to elicit any type of verbal response merely for a sigh to cut through the dreadful silence permeating the rooms.
“Kenichi Yamane actually, but you can refer to me as Dr. Yamane.”
Feeling the palpable disgust from the answer, the experienced fighter enacted a tactical withdrawal and took a seat at the nearby table as Kenichi pulled another chair away for himself. Hostility still burned within the husband’s pupils and attempting to cut through the emotion, Ozaki pointed a finger toward the ceiling.
“So, how long until-”
“Question. For a question,” Dr. Yamane countered. “This works with students I speak to and it will suffice here so… I’ll begin. My first question is a simple one.” His glass free hand pointed to the backyard with his eyes wide in disbelief. “Why?”
“Could’ve been shifters,” Ozaki admitted, little shame in his words. “So, I knocked them out.”
Kenichi’s hand rubbed his temple, a vein popping beneath his skin. “Alright, a decent idea in theory except-”
A wave of Ozaki’s index finger silenced Kenichi, drawing a look of ire through clear glasses.
“My turn,” the protector said cooly with a smug grin. “What was with the ghost trick?”
“If you’d let me finish-” A huff of air vented from the doctor’s nose, rattling the pair of glasses resting atop. “My wife is what you would commonly refer to as a psychic. The best of the best, in fact. Telepath, Telekinesis, Telesthesia, and Mental Projection like you just experienced. Now if that explains your query, why are you here, Shinichi?”
The jab of disappointment, like a parent speaking to a misbehaving child, deflected off of the protector’s persona without issue. If Kenichi thought mere words could upset the power balance between the two men, he was immensely mistaken.
“First, call me Ozaki. Second, to chat. But you’re saying this could all be her?” Ozaki tapped the table in response, inspecting its authenticity merely for Dr. Yamane’s jaw to slightly unhinge itself.
“You would know if this environment was a mental projection. Next question. Did you not think my wife would check the guards assigned to us? Do you possess that little foresight or are you simply that naïve?”
The question hit the warrior with unexpected strength, denting the arrogant persona Ozaki clung to in his verbal duel, unaware of the emotion which now leaked out.
“I’m done taking unnecessary chances; besides, I… can’t afford to assume things I once took for granted.”
As Kenichi’s face mellowed, the failed protector quickly rebuilt his emotionless façade and switched topics.
“That trick of Miki’s was… interesting. The only things I know that can do something like that are those Mothra twins.”
“The Shobijin,” Dr. Yamane corrected.
“Yeah, they pulled the same trick on me a long time ago. Anyway, my turn. Why come,” Ozaki raised his hands, mimicking the earlier flare Kenichi demonstrated, “here? Anti-Kaiju Division headquarters goes up in flames, country’s effectively in lockdown, and you think home is the safest place?”
Kenichi’s glass squeaked as tense fingers pressed upon its surface.
“A… well, a nurse who wasn’t human attacked my wife at Glenn Adams, but I interrupted its plan. Miki awoke just in time to save me, and it took its own life as a result. I’m sure it didn’t want its mind read by her.” Subtle tremors from the painful memory surged up and down Kenichi’s body as he continued, “After we heard what happened to the Anti-Kaiju Division, about others like the nurse…”
“Shifters,” Ozaki clarified, recalling Gordon’s description of the chameleon-like beings under Orochi’s direction. When the doctor’s look of horror grew a curious edge, he continued, “They can mimic what people look like so that nurse was one of them.”
A controlled breath eased some of the doctor’s tension before he continued, “Seeing what those… shifters did, we knew we had to leave Glenn Adams so we came home. I called a favor, acquired protection, and now we’re keeping our heads down.”
‘So they both run away from conflict?’ Ozaki thought, but the analysis proved short as a distant, inaudible for any human, series of footsteps drew the protector’s sight to the front door. “How many guards do you have?”
Worry crept upon Kenichi’s face. “Just the four you’ve knocked out, why?”
Ozaki charged forward in a blur, his eyes trained on the doorway. Undoing the lock, the mutant thrust the entryway open, revealing a human as tall and nearly wide as the frame. Retracting his fist for a knockout blow, a single word echoed at the last possible second.
“Kazuma.”
A clenched fist halted mere millimeters from a burly mustache. Brown eyes scanned the curled fingers with amusement before they flicked past Ozaki, no doubt noticing the four unconscious men.
“You know she’s psychic, right?”
Without batting an eye, Captain Douglas Gordon walked past Ozaki, extending a hand toward a visibly concerned Kenichi.
“Miki cleared me,” Gordon said, his words far gentler than how the bear of man usually spoke. “The phone call to her students is taking longer than she wanted.”
More chatter bounced between Gordon and Kenichi, but Ozaki saw through the façade. It was meaningless, simply Gordon’s attempts to ease Kenichi’s fears and for him to gather intel.
‘A waste of time,’ Ozaki thought before faint footsteps drew his attention to the wooden stairs beside him where Miki now resided.
Every step seemed like an eternity, but the ache throbbing inside him felt in reach of subsiding. The guilt and failure would remain no matter what transpired, but the deaths which haunted him could not sway Ozaki’s hopes of what Miki could provide on his current path of failure.
A change of course and if he was lucky, a long-desired win.
Sea of Japan
A leviathan of leathery skin and massive fangs arose from the ocean’s depths, the light of day casting into vivid relief the horrid burns scarring half its demonic face. Imposing to any mortal which dared look upon its presence, Kaishin Muba in that moment felt unrelenting fear as it gazed upon the nearby ocean. There, beneath the shimmering reflective light of the sun and peaceful movement of the sea, a churning mass of billions of crab-like lifeforms stirred.
The leviathan’s single intact eye focused on the immense swarm with unwavering terror, petrified that the mass of death may suddenly blitz his position and shred the mighty devil beast to fragments of bone. Such a fate befell every sea faring creature, no matter the size, on their journey to this very location.
Worry, a once distant concept for the demon of the sea, now clung to its being like an unforgettable memory before finally relinquishing its grasp as the swarm of death suddenly raced away toward the horizon. Luckily for Kaishin Muba, the creatures seemingly possessed another objective than feasting upon his flesh. Prying its horrified gaze away, the undersea leviathan raced off, thankful it and the eight followers of his master upon its back would be oceans apart from the ravenous abomination.
It was many and yet one. A hivemind in body, spirit, and mind unified to enact a single goal: death.
The whispers of malevolence from the one who had resurrected it burned like a searing inferno through the swarm, directing them eastward with an insatiable bloodlust. In time, it would make landfall and reduce the island of monsters to a barren wasteland, proving its superiority and awakening the world to a horrible nightmare.
Destoroyah, the embodiment of the cruel fate which eventually consumed all life, lived.
Monster Island
A pitch black void enveloped Gomora, the barren wasteland an all-too familiar backdrop for the saurian. Here he awaited his awakening after his clash with Ultraman, where dual nightmares of various shapes lured him until dawn, and now, where the Ryuseicho had sentenced him after a swift impalement. No overwhelming Super Oscillatory Wave from his nasal horn or slashes from his razor-sharp claws could tear him free from this barren, mental space; all Gomora could do was await a possible death or eventual release.
Feeling a sudden pull, the darkness relinquished its grasp, allowing Gomora’s eyes to snap open upon a world with overwhelming light.
The saurian’s heart raced, vision darting back and forth through the fields of white in search of the tentacled invader merely to find the elder and the runt, Anguirus and Godzilla Junior respectively. Fear and anxiety faded for Gomora as annoyance and confusion filled their respective places.
Did this pair best the invader?
With a guttural growl, Gomora heaved its massive body up from the jagged terrain, eyes scanning for any lurking danger. Its claws extended, clicking hungrily over the saurian’s abdominal armor until they found a freshly healed patch.
Gomora’s eyes widened. He’d been skewered, but how then was he alive? How could his body heal so quickly? Shimmering red hues in the rocks beneath his shaky form gradually caught Gomora’s attention and began his mental trek toward the truth.
Monster Island’s natural aura normally gleamed a dull monotonous brown. Rocky terrain littered most of the isle with patches of lush jungle breaking up the island’s signature environment, but these stones beneath Gomora’s clawed feet were a swiftly dulling crimson. Lifting his lengthy tail upward, he smashed the curled appendage down. Tremors rattled the land, debris filled the air of the impact, and through the dusty haze, fresh red minerals beamed with untapped radioactive power, silencing the questions plaguing the saurian’s mind.
He’d been saved, restored by a pocket of the island’s natural radioactive deposits, and the revelation bestowed no assurance upon Gomora or gratitude to those which resuscitated him, merely the undesired gift of shame. Reptilian shoulders slumped, his tail fell limp on the ground, and the beast began to aimlessly walk eastward away from his saviors, unable to face the undeniable truth.
To succeed against the impossible, to overcome any opponent. How could the mighty Gomora achieve those goals when he couldn’t even safeguard his own life?
Yamane Residence, Saitama Prefecture
Ozaki downed his cup of freshly brewed tea in a single gulp, skipping over the obstacle to get to his true desire. An overly enthusiastic grunt followed the downing of the drink before he placed the porcelain cup back on the table, looking to his right at Miki’s bewildered stare.
“Great stuff. Ready to explain your thoughts in my head?”
Miki’s calm demeanor showed no sign of cracking and with a turn, she moved to acquire more tea. A thud shifted the protector’s view across the table to Kenichi’s angered expression, demonstrating his lack of emotional control compared to his wife.
“Really,” the doctor hissed, “how can you be that disrespectful? Can you not wait-”
Miki placed her hand on her husband’s arm and a fresh cup of steaming liquid next to his right hand, cooling the fury surging through him.
“I felt myself fading when I interfered on Nikko,” Miki relented, tears swelling. “I briefly saw Tsukuyomi’s intentions, his desires, and passed along what knowledge I knew to help. It seems though that transfer failed to an extent, and my subconscious mind remained in your own thoughts longer than I intended.”
“Is that why you were unconscious for so long?” her husband inquired and from the curiosity beaming from his face, Ozaki guessed this was very well the first time the topic had been raised.
‘Guess I’m not the only one in the dark,’ he thought.
“Among other reasons,” she admitted to her husband before looking to Ozaki who gave an appreciative nod for the conversation starting down his desired path.
“Alright, any-”
“Did you tell any others?” Gordon interrupted, causing Ozaki to twitch in aggravation. Gordon was a friend, but the man’s innate curiosity would gift him a blow to the gut if things kept up.
“Asagi,” Miki sorrowfully retorted and with the single word, the failed protector felt the longstanding pain in his gut twist. He looked to his right open palm, the symbol which always reminded him of his lacking power before the protector silently cursed to himself of his failure.
“I couldn’t hold it,” he relented as he stared at his palm, drawing Miki’s attention away from the fresh cup of tea in front of Gordon. “I failed her. If my power didn’t fade when it did, she’d be alive. They’d both be okay.”
Moments passed, and the courage to look into Asagi and Ayana’s friend’s eyes, to face her anger, finally drew the fighter’s gaze to Miki, yet the expression wasn’t in line with expectations. Instead the woman seemed… perplexed, as if she was staring at an oddity unknown to mankind.
‘Huh, out of everyone, surprised she didn’t know,’ Ozaki pondered, deciding the best way to explain his own gifts. “You’d call it energy control,” he explained, eyes glaring toward Dr. Yamane. “Maybe manipulation? Don’t know the fancy term for it.”
“Ergokinesis,” Dr. Yamane chimed in with his own arrogant smirk.
“Err-go-ki-ne-sis,” Ozaki drolled, the word leaving a bitter taste upon its completion, “Whatever the name, I guess you were unconscious at that point. Orochi brought lightning down on Asagi and I. My power left me mid-struggle. From what the doctors told me, the shockwave my body could handle, barely. For her… it was too much.”
Miki remained rigid, drawing even Gordon’s attention as her mouth hung open as if unable to find the words to speak.
“What’s done is done,” Ozaki affirmed, hoping to change the subject. “You did all you could. If you can give us insight on what else he’s planning, I will stop him.”
“He wishes to wipe out humanity, all life,” Miki finally spoke, her momentary daze at an end as a fresh wave of relief washed across her, allowing the woman to stand upright once more. “I can not sense his mind any longer, nor that of Ayana or Tatsunari. That sadly… is all I know.”
Ozaki nodded but questions still lingered. “You sure, nothing else? How about a location, a guess?”
“The Sea of Japan,” Gordon said with such frankness, the statement seemed as common knowledge as the color of the sky. “The Ryuseicho vanished into a hurricane that’s been parked there the last day. It dissipated not fifteen minutes before my arrival. Orochi is there with the creature, but we’re missing something. Probably more than a single something.”
“And this conjecture is based on?” Dr. Yamane inquired, beating Ozaki to his own question.
Gordon smirked, surely enjoying his time in the spotlight. “You don’t pull back a curtain unless you have nothing to hide. The hurricane’s departure also means that sadistic fish from Tokyo Harbor-”
“Kaishin Muba. That is what Tsukuyomi called it,” Miki interrupted, finally taking a seat at the table.
“Name aside,” Gordon continued, “the question shouldn’t be where he is, but what is he willing to risk his own discovery for?”
Ozaki’s fingers fidgeted with the empty mug before him, deciding on whether to deck Gordon now or later. His latest question surely was rhetorical, that the protector held little doubt, but why?
‘Ego or fishing for something out of these two?’ he thought.
“An… army,” Dr. Yamane noted while Miki merely approved with a gentle head nod. “Ayana Moribe is no doubt being used to puppet Iris…” As Ozaki moved to inquire, the doctor quickly explained, “Iris is what Ayana called the Ryuseicho. Regardless, Orochi may have pursued Mechagodzilla with the attack on the Anti-Kaiju Division Headquarters with his… shifters.” Gordon eyebrows raised, seemingly pleased to see that his label for Orochi’s followers was catching on.
An expression, clearly formed by a dark memory which accompanied pain and terror, beamed forth from Miki and as her lips parted, Ozaki felt a slight sense of dread accompany the words.
“Beside him, a demon of rage and a titan of death. Iris and… Destoroyah.”
The horror upon Dr. Yamane’s face was all the information Ozaki needed. The name seemed familiar, a past event in a sea of historical tragedies, but he couldn’t place it. Though judging by the glisten in Gordon’s eyes, it was exactly the answer the man had been fishing for.
“I thought you told us everything!” Ozaki snapped to Miki.
“Destoroyah is a guess from what thoughts I remember from Tsukuyomi,” she admitted, eyes unable to match his fiery stare, “and I always have. I explained the prophecy to Asagi when you were with us. Did you not-”
The failed protector tilted his head forward in disappointment. The statement, upon further reflection was familiar, yet in his rush for glory and his chance to redeem himself, he willfully ignored the detail and probably many others like it. As Ozaki felt the noose around his soul tighten, Miki continued, “Tatsunari Moribe came to me, warning of a prophecy. It’s why I hired you Shinichi, why Junior was in the harbor when Kaishin Muba came. I knew and yet-”
Another twist in his gut subsided Ozaki’s self loathing and stopped the protector from correcting Miki’s stubborn habit of using his first name. She’d done everything in her power to protect the people around her and like him, they both were living with the pressing weight of failure..
‘But only one of us truly deserves this weight,’ Ozaki knew. ‘Only one of us keeps letting people die.’
“Sorry… for the outburst earlier.” Miki ushered a soft smile to his confession before Ozaki continued, “You’ve done everything and more. I…” Weary eyes shifted to his open palm which gradually had curled into a fist, “I can’t allow myself to be blinded or lacking anymore.”
With a deep breath, fresh energy surged within and he glanced toward Gordon. “So tell us, where is Destoroyah headed?”
Chapter 5: Godzilla Junior & Anguirus vs. Destoroyah
Western Coastline, Monster Island
Whatever feeling of accomplishment Junior possessed after saving his nasal-horned ally’s life felt as fleeting as the warm pacific air flowing off the glistening white coast. The sense of defeat, of uncertainty in one’s place, Junior knew these emotions all too well. Gomora needed time to decompress, but how much time he needed was uncertain. The stubborn creature’s physical wounds had healed, now all that remained were those that existed beneath the surface. While he waited for those to mend, Junior directed his attention toward personal interests.
A pleased screech boomed from the young saurian upon spotting a tri-clawed footprint embedded in rock. The footprint belonged to his parent, made just before Godzilla departed and seemingly vanished without a trace. The mark at one point brought only loneliness, but now, it instilled in Junior a drive to improve, to continue to grow. Placing his own reptilian heel into the footprint of his father, the young saurian studied the amount of space left to fill the void. To his surprise, a miniscule amount of open air remained.
After battling the devil beast Kaishin Muba, Junior had felt his body’s natural growth accelerating. Now, with his heel barely able to slide side to side within his father’s footprint, he knew physical parity with his parent was within reach. There was no doubt he was on the precipice of taking over his father’s role or potentially challenging the other Godzilla.
Sudden euphoria clouded Junior’s mind, blinding him to peripheries of his vision where red waves rolled over the nearby glistening beach, spilling thousands of red specks over its surface. Finally, a foul odor snapped Junior out of his daze, allowing him to inspect the crimson infestation which surged forward.
They flowed like water as tens of thousands of legs carried them over the sand, an endless scourge of crustacean-like devils with spider legs, lobster claws, and yellow eyes. Junior knew not what the creatures were or their intentions, but instinct carried forth an urge for destruction, and with that sensation fueling his drive for action, azure power illuminated the saurian’s scutes with an awe-inspiring radiance. Parting his maw, atomic energy washed over the beach, atomizing everything the blast of radiation touched.
Sand charred to glass. The crustaceans seemingly cried out in unison, sharing their anguish and death amongst each other. As the atomic ray wiped the beach clean, and the devilish creatures which remained fled beneath molten sand. Junior swept his wary glare up and down the beach, but all was quiet and in victory, Junior birthed a celebratory cry.
A wail of horror rebuffed.
Sand detonated. Crimson lightning illuminated the terrain with a malevolent glow. Behind a rising wall of sand, an abomination formed of crustacean and demonic features materialized seemingly from nothing. Massive bat-like wings extended out of the brown cloud while an excessively long pincered tail methodically swung side to side. A bipedal terror stood upright, and the devilish yellow eyes of the invader beamed with malice once more.
Junior retreated, pulling his heel out of the mark of his father to gain some distance between him and the newly crafted horror, yet every step back felt inconsequential.
No matter how many steps Junior fell back, the new arrival’s seemingly endless shadow shrouded him. Palpable terror stirred within him as he took in the abomination’s size that exceeded any monster he’d come across before. All that progress, all the growth Junior experienced, felt inconsequential before the crimson-carapaced monstrosity. Only a technique of immense power would faze such an invader, and feeling an inkling of confidence return, he readied to unleash his most potent technique.
A reptilian heel crashed into the dirt, planting Junior in place as his spines flashed violet. Blue bolts of energy cascaded across the saurian’s dorsal plates before dots of light materialized in front of his maw, swirling into the back of his open jaws. Specs of flashing light flowed past razor sharp teeth and with a snap, reptilian jaws locked together to focus the immense plasma building within.
Quakes rattled Junior from the horror, taking a single step out of the sandy haze onto his father’s footprint which was crushed under the abomination’s heel. Violet energy within a swirling vortex of destructive power exploded from Junior maw in response and struck the arrival’s crimson abdominal carapace, engulfing crustacean-like flesh in an eruption of sparks.
Junior stumbled forward, reserves emptied by the Spiral Atomic Ray.
Surely he’d managed a devastating first strike? Enough to drive-
All hope vanished upon feeling a pincered tail coil around his body. The appendage effortlessly ripped Junior off the ground, demonstrating even the fifty thousand tons of his mass was nothing in comparison to this behemoth. Junior spotted the horror’s undamaged abdominal carapace, how the abomination’s maw warped into a twisted smile, and then molten sand as his body was slammed into the charred terrain. A bone-chilling cry escaped Junior’s body before he was whisked airborne once more and brought down upon an untouched section of the beach, letting loose another cry of anguish.
Destoroyah hadn’t expected combat so quickly, let alone to face the same species that brought about its destruction, but the agony that filled the air from the reptile’s torment acted like a soothing melody to every mind within its body. Destoroyah was inherently superior. It wouldn’t succumb to another lifeform again, not against the orange-hued Godzilla of the past, or its possible offspring, or any being that faced it in the future. Its mission was death, and hopefully, the cries of the small reptile would attract those bold enough to assist the young creature to its slaughter.
Yellow eyes snapped right. Birds ascended into the heavens. Trees shook violently from a hidden, charging foe. Destoroyah’s needle tooth filled maw parted, unleashing a horrid wail of excitement.
A new victim approached!
Bursting through wood and brush, a four-legged beast with a spiked carapace galloped forth. Anguirus’ long snout parted to unleash a cry of war merely for Destoroyah to cackle at such a threat. A thunderous crack marked Destoroyah launching Junior with a simple whip of his tail, sending the death-dealer’s retort in the form of a monstrous projectile.
Confidence seemingly shifted to surprise across the rushing reptile before Anguirus ducked beneath Junior’s airborne form. As the tremors of impact rattled the ankylosaur, his long strides continued unabated, concluding with a thunderous lunge met to smash his bulk against the invader, yet for the tenacious showing, Destoroyah remained unimpressed.
As jaws parted to sink white fangs upon crimson exoskeleton, Destoroyah flung forth an earth shattering blow. Sixty thousand tons of incoming dinosaur reversed course as the jab struck true. Sailing back from whence it came, Destoroyah’s pincered tail snapped shut around Anguirus’ neck and yanked backward.
Anguirus’ airborne body arched wide, his spiked carapace bouncing off the earth like a skipping stone. Dragged along by the pincered extremity, Destoroyah whipped his tail over the beach, coastal waters, and finally back over solid ground. Releasing the reptile just as it did with the smaller Godzilla, Destoroyah cackled in amusement, awaiting the inevitable impact of the brazen pair.
The desired collision never struck.
Anguirus’ aerial body curved inward. Reptilian features vanished into a spiked sphere that seemingly carried the momentum of Destoroyah’s launch as it touched down. While not immediate, Anguirus’ Thunderball technique eventually arched back toward Destoroyah whose cackling grew ever louder at the defiant display.
Billions of minds festered in delight. Another demonstration of power was needed for this stubborn beast!
Bat-like wings unfurled in perfect symmetry, letting loose winds that rivaled the mightiest hurricane. Rock and flora alike ripped from the dry soil, yet through the pressure wave Anguirus pressed forward and slammed into Destoroyah’s immense bulk. Cackling ceased as devilish eyes widened, annoyed that the impudent creature still wished to test its wrath. Billions of minds answered the call for further action, channeling energy into the abomination’s parted maw where a new horror formed.
An energized ray coated in a mist-like chemical birthed from the abomination’s maw. Whatever fight Anguirus possessed moments ago melted away as the Micro-Oxygen beam raked his spiked carapace; the ankylosaur’s cries of war were replaced by a desperate chorus of choking and gagging. With his prey pre-occupied by his inability to draw forth a solid breath, Destoroyah slammed his right, trunk-like leg into the gut of the beast, launching Anguirus airborne once more.
Spikes struck black flesh, letting loose cries from each monster until a second beam of destruction lanced their shared landing site. As oxygen-destroying energy imbued the area and suffocated the pair, Destoroyah stood triumphantly, pondering its malevolent ambitions.
Was this all Monster Island could muster in the face of an invader or would its slaughter be a simple affair? If so-
Needle-like teeth separated with malicious joy, every mind comprising Destoroyah imagining the most horrific ends for the struggling saurians. Dark whispers from the being which had resurrected the abomination dampened such fantasy, pressing Destoroyah to hasten its conquest, yet as the Precambrian horror planted its foot in protest, another tremor rattled the battlefield.
Destoroyah’s eyes blazed with murderous intent as it whipped its attention toward the East where a new creature came into view.
Gomora withheld the almost addict-like need to charge into the fray; instead, the mighty saurian buried his rage, patiently strolling toward the newest invader to grace the island. Clawed digits flexed open and closed, no doubt exposing the conflict the reptile felt within to the hulking creature, but Gomora doubted the invader would care if it noticed. The desire for death was all too familiar and radiated from the invader’s glowing yellow eyes like those from the three-headed dragon of his youth. As Gomora reached the abomination’s position, his own brown eyes locked into a fierce glare with the invader, spotlighting the thirty meters of height difference between the pair.
Perhaps he held no chance. Maybe he’d fail just as he did against Ghidorah, Ultraman, Gabara, and The Ryuseicho, but every fiber of Gomora’s being pressed him to try.
To succeed against the impossible, to overcome any opponent. If this battle could mark the end of his long standing dire fortunes and lead him to realize his dream, what was the risk of his own life?
Temple of Orochi, Sea of Japan
Through hallways of stone the god Tsukuyomi strolled, unable to ignore the current desire plaguing his human vessel. What once was miniscule curiosity gradually festered beneath his pale skin and while he possessed the world’s knowledge at his beck and call, the question he needed to be sated could not be answered by his creations’ research. The Fangs of Orochi had achieved wonders already, stripping down the motives and past of others like the supposed One Above All so when they met at again, Tsukuyomi would not just best him, but utterly break him too. But Ayana… her past was too shrouded even for his covert spies to shed light on. So now, as he reached a wooden doorway at the center of his temple of worship, he would openly do the unthinkable to remove his current desire.
Willingly converse with an…
“Insect,” he growled aloud to avoid his spawns’ telepathic abilities.
Sheathing the locks which ensured the door remained sealed, Tsukuyomi parted the chamber’s entrance. If harm came to what lay inside, The Ryuseicho would surely rebel, hellbent on his very destruction, but such an event he could avoid even with such a frail being. Stepping forward into the dimly lit room, he spotted an old, used cot against the right wall. A bowl of uneaten rice lay at the far left side of the room, devoid of one of its metal chopsticks, but the prisoner was nowhere to be-
Pain, miniscule yet unnatural, pulsed from the god’s neck and with a flit of movement at the bottom of Tsukuyomi’s right eye, all became clear. A snap of his right hand allowed him to clutch the female prisoner, who had hidden behind the opening door, and yank the human to her feet. The mortal being persisted in her murderous intentions, trying to plunge the refined utensil deeper into the god’s neck. Allowing the futile effort to continue, Tsukuyomi glared into the seething eyes of Ayana Moribe.
“What is your bond with the Ryuseicho? There are billions of other humans, why is it only drawn to you?”
The insect gave no rebuttal, merely gasping for air with Tsukuyomi’s iron grip on her throat. The god knew the intention of the woman, to kill him with the weapon she had fashioned from a chopstick in the enclosure, but this futile encounter would not end with his death. Huffing in frustration, the god tossed the woman onto her cot, catching the chopstick in his left hand. Rubbing his neck, warm blood coated the edges of his fingers.
“This may have killed one of my creations,” Tsukuyomi spoke with malevolent admiration before he shifted his attention to Ayana who was already rebounding to her feet, the murderous intent beaming from her showing no sign of fading.
“These useless attempts on my life can not persist any longer.”
Spinning the weapon in his fingers, Tsukuyomi brought the makeshift shiv to bear as Ayana charged towards him. And then with all his might, the god in human form thrust the weapon through bone and brain matter, halting Ayana in her tracks.
Chapter 7: Gomora vs. Destoroyah
Western Hills, Monster Island
The next phase of the war for Monster Island began with a series of clawed strikes across dense abdominal armor. While the slashes and thunderous blows lacked the power to break through the invader’s exoskeleton, Gomora’s sudden explosion of action had at least caught Destoroyah somewhat off guard. The single counterattack thrown by the horror missed entirely, but the shockwave which graced the dinosaur’s skin informed him that immense power fueled even haphazard jabs. If utmost urgency was not taken at every moment, then a successful impact could spell-
A left hook let loose from Destoroyah forcing Gomora backward. As the blow concluded with another intense wave of air pressure, brown eyes spotted violet energy churning behind the wall of spiked teeth. Movement alone would not suffice to avoid the incoming blast, so Gomora rotated his body, using his tail like a hammer to batter the abomination’s battle-axed head to the left.
Thick muscle barely gave, but the meters that Destoroyah’s head did turn allowed the searing blast to lance the terrain beside Gomora. The sting of foul chemicals still filled the air. A slight numb sensation graced the reptile’s outer extremities, but the will to wage war still lingered, igniting Gomora’s horn a fiery hue of orange.
Super-Oscillatory Waves burst from the reptile’s horn and slammed into Destoroyah’s oversized head. Gomora’s confidence, riding high after a series of successes, could not placate the kaiju’s mind for pressing the attack as long as he could muster. This abomination would not go down by a simple blast, and as Gomora pushed his reserves to their natural limits, an explosion of sparks engulfed the invader.
Eyes glistening, maw parted, Gomora’s pride finally unchained itself and birthed a roar of superiority. Monster Island trembled as the reptile charged again, right arm cocked back for a thunderous blow. As the Gomora felt the strength to break the world flow through him, the reptile threw his punch merely for the tri-clawed palm of Destoroyah to intercept.
The horror barely budged.
White claws snapped closed. Gomora pulled to free his captured appendage, but the draw of two devilish orbs gathered his attention for just a moment. Each yellow beacon burned in intensity, answering Gomora’s hopes for victory with a blunt honesty that pierced even the reptile’s near unbreakable abdominal armor.
Victory would not happen on this day nor any other.
Gomora’s world suddenly morphed into a wall of black. Vision returned a moment later, but the void of space he once existed within was trailing away while Destoroyah’s right, curled trunk of an arm pulled back. Pain gripped the reptile’s head. Disorientation plagued his mind and then the earth softened his landing. Destructive energies followed Gomora’s calamitous fall, yet the dinosaur’s increasingly oxygen-deprived screams failed to halt his suffering. Only action could.
Scrambling under a chemical torrent of anguish, Gomora staggered forward. The numb sensations plaguing his body continued to worsen, every step proving heavier than the last, yet against the odds Gomora reached Destoroyah, slamming his body against the wall of Precambrian flesh. As a second impact rattled the abomination, Gomora shifted his attention downward where Anguirus stood on all fours.
The elder was now part of the fray.
Gomora barked an annoyed cry at the elder for intruding upon its fight which the ankylosaur retorted in kind. Animosity flowed between each creature and then as white claws snapped upon each reptile’s flesh, their momentary annoyance melted away, replaced by fear of what was to come.
A sharp push forced Gomora’s head into the ankylosaur’s own and then Anguirus sailed away from a simple toss, unbecoming of his sixty thousand ton bulk. Deathly orbs then focused upon Gomora, preempting a malevolent cackle. Wings flexed backward, taking Gomora and Destoroyah thousands of feet into the air before gravity’s natural tug brought both crashing back down upon the island.
A juvenile cry marked Gomora’s impact location. However deep Junior’s body was hammered into the terrain, neither he nor Gomora could escape the destructive breath which washed over both of their hides.
For all the effort Gomora labored into his brawl, one thing had become frighteningly clear; the abomination was merely toying with him, toying with all three of them. Victory, if the concept was even possible, was as clear as a full moon through a hurricane, and the storm seemed poised to unleash its uncontested, murderous wrath.
Micro-Oxygen ceased flowing. A haunting cackle filled the air and from its gargantuan height, Destoroyah’s shadow cast far and wide, blanketing Godzilla Junior, Anguirus, and Gomora.
While the newest arrival proved a better challenge than the initial two, the era of sadistic curiosity toward the trio was at an end.
Death’s gaze focused upon Gomora who’s still-struggling form attracted the abomination’s attention like an insect trapped within a spider’s web. An act of mercy was needed to finally cull the beast since its breath of destruction seemed unable to complete the task.
The Precambrian horror pulled its head backward. The orange horn atop its forehead burst into a chaotic frenzy of various lights. Energy gathered forth, materializing into the dreaded Visceral Horn technique which to the hivemind’s knowledge could easily slash through any armor, metal, or hide. Once Destoroyah swung its head downward, Gomora’s death would be swift.
Anguirus struggled to rise to stop the act.
Junior unleashed a paltry defiant cry, but both monsters lacked the strength to interfere with the abomination’s will.
A malicious grin overtook the devil’s face before it brought its devastating slash towards its victim, yet as Destoroyah neared its target, it felt the grip of another monster on its pincered tail.
Warty palms discharged an electric current even the staggering terror could not neglect. Thousands of blue bolts enveloped Destoroyah, from the crests on its head to the white, clawed toes on its extremities. Every microscopic being which encompassed the abomination cried out in one voice, morphing into an audible, tormented wail which rattled the heavens with its intensity. A harsh cracking, like that of bones snapping, echoed as Destoroyah forced its muscle-locked body to turn and face the new, soon-to-be-dead aggressor. When Precambrian horror’s head finally reached the necessary angle to face its unseen attacker, the eyes of a devil stared into those of a nightmare.
The nightmare trembled in horror.
Eyes snapped wide with fresh fear. Warty fingers relinquished Destoroyah’s pincered tail, yet the consequences of Gabara’s actions were clear by Destoroyah’s fresh glare of death. Quakes visibly shook the new arrival as the abomination turned its devilish sights on him, casting an all-encompassing shadow over every warty patch of green skin the ogre possessed.
Destoroyah narrowed its vengeful gaze, channeling Micro-Oxygen into its maw to vaporize the uninvited guest to its slaughter. As the insignificant green creature backed away, Destoroyah unleashed its pent up fury, flooring Gabara to the landscape with a single continuous violet ray. The insignificant creature rolled across rock without resistance, finally coming to a halt merely to cower in abject terror, annoying Destoroyah ever more.
Did Gabara think it would be spared if it showed regret? No… the whispers of the being which brought life back to the abomination ordered it to raze the island of all life; a task Destoroyah euphorically accepted. There would be no survivors. None could escape death, escape its-
Gomora pressed forward with all his might, sinking his nasal horn as far into the carapace of Destoroyah as he could muster. Sickly, green blood flowed from the fresh puncture upon the death-dealer’s back, and while it was no mortal wound, it was exactly what Gomora needed to ensure what he desired for eons finally came to pass.
An unmatched roar of defiance bellowed from the saurian and he let loose everything his reserves could muster. Super Oscillatory Waves flowed from Gomora’s nasal horn directly into Destoroyah, freezing the invader in place until a glow radiated through the abomination’s right side, preempting a monolithic detonation. Chunks of red flesh bounced off the landscape while Gomora took a few steps back to gaze at what remained of his island’s intruder.
Green blood poured onto the earth with unending volume. Destoroyah’s right arm, and a large swath of torso no longer existed, exposing vile organs and charred tendons. The behemoth staggered, desperately trying to stay standing before it locked its sight on Gomora. A hateful gaze solidified on the crippled Precambrian horror before it fell forward, vanishing into a white mist which exploded outward as it struck the ground. Cracks opened the earth revealing crimson radioactive deposits. A plume of deadly gas billowed into the sky, but Gomora ignored the sight; instead, he roared into the heavens in euphoria from his accomplishment.
The hulking abomination which invaded the island, the seemingly invincible abomination, was no more. But more importantly, Gomora had achieved the impossible.
He had finally won!
Yamane Residence, Saitama Prefecture
Gordon relished the hot tea swirling in his cup. To follow the delicacy with harsh words seemed criminal, but such things needed to be said. Removing the porcelain from his lips, the Captain kept his eyes closed as he set his cup down, relishing the taste for as long as he could before swallowing and gazing at those eagerly awaiting his reply to Ozaki’s inquiry.
“Way I see it, only one force has thrown a wrench into Orochi’s intentions, and it’s not humanity. The targets of Destoroyah, Iris, and that sadistic fish I traded blows with will reflect that.” Dr. Yamane slid his fingers across his smooth chin in thought, delighting the Captain. His audience was invested, now it was time for their reward. He continued, “And with the A.K.D. ‘s headquarters down, most of the monitoring equipment other branches of the J.S.D.F. have will be offline. Such systems won’t be monitored again until… a few days at least. If an incursion occurred on Monster Island for example, I doubt anyone would realize until after it occurs.”
Dr. Yamane pulled his fingers away before snapping them from an apparent epiphany. “Then we have Miki warn those potential creatures with her cross-species Telepathy. Monster Island, as you mentioned in your example, has four inhabitants. Destoroyah is a threat, I remember when it first appeared in ninety-five, but it can and has been killed. It’s a fight they can win.”
Gordon’s face soured upon the doctor’s final words. “In two thousand and four, the Xiliens possessed over a dozen monsters. I didn’t lure a dozen to combat their army, only one.”
Dr. Yamane tilted his head, rubbing the edges of his glasses as he thought. “Godzilla? I fail to see the connection.”
“Quality over quantity,” Ozaki interjected.
The Captain remained quiet, hoping his friend’s explanation was enough to sway the doctor’s mindset. After a few moments, with hope still clinging to Dr. Yamane, Gordon spoke with words which carried no malice, but an unwanted authenticity.
“Iris took out at least two high profile targets yesterday, and I don’t think it was intentional. Destoroyah… Well, you witnessed first hand what it could do in ninety-five. Fancy tricks, numbers, no… to win this… fight, only quality matters. Wherever it’s headed, it won’t really be a fight doctor, just a slaughter.”
Cold eyes swept across the room toward Miki. “Tell us about that prophecy. We can’t let there be any more surprises between us, or it may very well be the end of us all.”
Chapter 9: Destoroyah vs. Everyone
Western Hills, Monster Island
Gabara hurriedly scrambled across the rocky, fractured landscape. Terrified brown eyes darted around the area, looking for any trace of the devil-like creature, but with only a thin, white mist hanging above the dirt, fear gradually vacated the nightmarish creation.
The wails of his other inhabitants had drawn the nightmare, and while he showed no love for the trio, the deaths of all three would only serve to solidify his own demise. As a creature unable to swim, interceding on his allies behalf was a self-interested play that proved to be the right call.
A sigh of relief exited Gabara’s warty jaws until the creature felt its knees begin to tremble. Annoyed that his body still showed fear, he bent down and grabbed his two appendages only to realize the tremors came not from his body, but the earth beneath his heels. Without hesitation, Gabara erupted into a frenzied dash, desperate to reach the trio and use them as shields from the wrathful force that was quickly gathering strength. He could feel it rising around him, an invisible blanket of malevolence and vengeance about to be unleashed.
The quakes of Gabara’s sprint attracted Gomora’s euphoric gaze before the ogre dived behind the brown biped. The ancient dinosaur raised an eye in confusion, unsure what to make of the green creature merely for a malicious, haunting laugh to reverberate through solid rock. The taunt sent a message no monster on the island could ignore, and in unison, Gomora looked back to the mist with Anguirus and Godzilla Junior.
The cracked and scarred earth where Destoroyah fell in apparent defeat pulsed and swelled upward. A new dome in the earth bulged forth, cracking violently until its structural integrity finally gave way. From the collapsing dome, a wave of dust exploded outward. Yellow eyes glowed within the scattered haze and as quickly as the eyes appeared, a thunderclap from the devil’s wings parted the dust. With the sun shining upon the fully reformed abomination, Destoroyah let out a chilling roar to declare its rebirth and intent for death.
A shockwave of air slammed against Gomora who answered Destoroyah’s ascension into the air with a prideful cry.
He would still attain his triumphant victory, no matter how many times he needed to kill the invader!
Atomic fire joined his Oscillatory Waves in a futile attempt to stop Destoroyah. However, the abomination proved too powerful as it soared through their unified bursts of energy, unflinching. Its white-tipped claws opened violently and pierced forward through Gomora’s blast until they latched onto his horned face, crushing any flicker of hope that remained.
Anguirus watched Gomora fly off his feet while Destoroyah’s form flew past. The terror’s pincered tail snapped as it soared by onto Gabara’s left arm and yanked the ogre off his feet without any sign of difficulty. The ogre’s screams echoed as he was forcefully pulled inland, with Anguirus in pursuit and Junior just behind. After a few pounces though, the quadruped heard a crash behind him, forcing the ankylosaur’s attention to Junior who lay wheezing on the ground, struggling to simply return to his feet. Anguirus nearly emitted a low growl of anger at the young saurian, but restrained his response and charged alone after Destoroyah.
Anguirus held no reluctance in continuing the fight, yet even he couldn’t deny the simple truth which was quickly becoming ever more apparent.
The battle he stubbornly charged after may be one that was unwinnable… And yet as the thought conquered his mind, the memory of the Black Mechagodzilla’s immobile form shattered the assumption like glass.
Victory, even a pyrrhic one, could always be achieved, and Anguirus’ stubborn hopes clung onto that hope of victory with unrivaled strength.
Even after millions of voices were silenced within Destoroyah’s inner hivemind, unity of consciousness was never in doubt. It would still slaughter all life on Monster Island except, as it delicately shifted its white-clawed fingers across Gomora’s head to avoid the nasal horn, the only true threat to its existence.
Gomora let loose a series of defiant grunts. Reptilian daggers attempted to carve into the abomination’s exoskeleton, yet the attempts of its victim to force his own release were ultimately pitiful. A true demonstration of strength was needed and so, Destoroyah effortlessly thrust its victim into the dirt.
The dinosaur’s head plowed through the tough terrain, digging a trench dozens of meters deep with Destoroyah’s flight showing no sign of slowing. Malevolent orbs then spotted a nearing cliffside as nearly as tall as itself and with malicious glee, the Precambrian mutation ripped Gomora from the earth and slammed the dinosaur into the wall of rock, burying him deep into the porous formation where no light could grace his brown hide.
A grave reserved solely for the arrogant, pitiful beast.
The ground beneath Destoroyah splintered as it touched down. With a flick of the horror’s tail, Gabara flung into the wall Gomora remained buried within and bounced off. A boney click marked the ogre’s release from the invader’s clutches while a shadow of death enveloped the green, whining monster until the devil’s horn illuminated the brightest orange, eliminating all darkness in the area. Destoroyah swung its Visceral Blade to slice Gabara in half, yet as the energized horn katana neared the ogre’s head, the impact of Anguirus using his Thunderball technique upon its back forced another outcome. Destructive energy cleaved not through Gabara’s head, but his left arm.
A sickening howl escaped Gabara’s maw. Blood stained the dirt and in a panic, the ogre scurried away as the monstrous terror changed its target to Anguirus. No thought of assisting his savior ever crossed Gabara’s mind for he, bathed in overwhelming pain and clarity thanks to his freshly cleaved arm, knew the truth.
There was no killing Destoroyah.
No fighting it.
Death would claim them all unless they escaped the island or hid until the abomination grew bored. It was all he or his allies could do.
Anguirus snorted dust from its nostrils, parting his jaws to emit a war cry from bloody jaws.
Destoroyah emitted no sound at his display of aggression, it merely filled its maw with violet energy.
Clawed reptilian fingers scored the earth as Anguirus propelled himself forward on all fours. With a swift lunge, the ankylosaur launched himself at Destoroyah, his maw agape to sink into the Precambrian lifeform’s crimson hide. Destoroyah struck first however and smashed its right arm deep into his gut. Blood burst from the back of Anguirus’ jaws before he struck the earth on his back, sliding backward as a ray of Micro-Oxygen burst from Destoroyah’s jaws and lanced across his body. Violet energy charred brown flesh until the ray finally detonated in a cloud of destructive energy. Enveloped in a poisonous mist of pure white and laying on his back, Anguirus struggled to breath merely for the haze to forcefully part from gusts of wind which originated high above. Saurian eyes peered into the heavens, spotting Destoroyah’s monolithic form hundreds of meters above and falling with deadly intent. Anguirus’ eyes went wide though he showed no fear. The stubborn ankylosaur curled into its Thunderball state just as the devil touched down.
All eighty-thousand tons of the abomination crashed atop Anguirus, replicating the impact of a meteor. Dust filled the void air once existed, and all became still once more on the island until white claws ripped Anguirus out of the ground and tossed him aside. The ankylosaur’s body soared outside the fresh plume of debris, sliding to a stop at the edge of a nearby jungle while a devilish figure walked through the dust.
For a moment, Destoroyah stopped, watching with curiosity as Anguirus stubbornly pushed itself upward and rose on all fours. Deep wounds coated the unarmored skin of the ankylosaur, revealing torn flesh. Blood seeped from dozens of lacerations yet he persisted, roaring defiantly at his soon to be killer, but Destoroyah remained unamused, channeling energy to its maw once more.
If this creature wished to test how long it could hold off its inevitable fate, an inescapable death that would eventually befall all of the island’s inhabitants… so be it.
Evil, born at the dawn of time, will return. He has returned. Be vigilant of the man and his eight-headed shadow, for only one who holds the power of a sun in their palm can stop him. Great danger surrounds the heart of the guardian and rage of the demon, and the ones which care for them–
A warrior of flame. A beast of the sea in Japan’s heart. In time, the hydra will descend upon–upon the sea. Beside him, the demon of rage and a titan of death. Millions… millions will die. The god will kill everyone if not stopped, and only three can.
A guardian.
A king.
A warrior… of the stars.
But only the one glowing in golden light can stop what will befall humanity.
– Hina Azumi’s Final Prophecy
Yamane Residence, Saitama Prefecture
The room was filled with an oppressive silence as everyone began to slowly accept the dark fate shared by Tatsunari Moribe. Ozaki tried to bring some hope into the situation as he said, “We still have Mechagodzilla, so there’s the guardian of Japan. And I’ll kill Orochi so one less monster to worry about.”
“You’re the warrior of the stars?” Dr. Yamane sneered, unable to hide his disbelief at the proposed theory.
“Born with alien blood running through me so, yeah, seems likely. You have a better pair?”
“Only a few,” Dr. Yamane proudly retorted. “For the guardian, the obvious choice would be Mothra. Maybe Gamera if he still lives after his encounter with Orochi. One must also remember the term ‘guardian’ has many synonyms, ‘protector’ being one of them. Thus, benevolent creatures like the Kongs could be considered. As for the warrior, one of the Ultramen or Zone Fighter come to mind. Ultraseven and Zone Fighter did appear recently.”
“And Iris went through both of them,” Ozaki countered, unable to think of any counters to the rest of the doctor’s argument. “Even if they are alive, how would we reach out to them?”
“I tried to contact them earlier today, but I can’t sense them,” Miki interjected, deflating her husband’s point that much more.
“Fair,” the doctor relented. “What of the third member of your trio, Ozaki?”
“The King? That one is just too obvious.”
The room once again went quiet.
“If no one will say the obvious, then I shall. Godzilla…?” Kenichi asked, his voice slowly trailing off as he left the question lingering in the air.
“Yup,” Ozaki affirmed with a subtle nod. ‘Never not involved, come to think of it,’ he thought before he asked aloud, “real question is which one?”
Kenichi’s indifference to the statement blossomed into shock as he too surmised that the Earth possessed more than one Godzilla. He quickly looked over at his wife for some form of clarity, but she seemed just as confused and overwhelmed, her eyes darting back and forth between everyone in the room.
“The new Godzilla, the one which arrived in Tokyo bay seems distant, apathetic,” Miki described. “Its nature is pure, but I’m unsure if it would help if we asked after my previous encounter brought about so much… hostility. The juvenile on Monster Island is too young, and I fear the original, the juvenile’s father, is lost to us.”
Ozaki stammered, barely able to contain his curiosity. He held no fondness for the beast, but suddenly a creature which he watched save Tokyo from Keizer Ghidorah, a King he felt could turn the tide of any war Orochi planned had… what, died?
“Wha- what killed him?”
“SpaceGodzilla or at the very least the explosion from his death,” Dr. Yamane explained. “No body-”
Ozaki pushed his chair back, unable to temper his reaction to the news that the unstoppable creature he’d bestowed his power was somehow dead. “Wait!?” A bewildered sigh escaped his lips and as he noticed Gordon’s intrigue, he knew he was not alone. “No way did I miss that headline. Where? When?”
The doctor’s face twisted in anger from the newest interruption from Ozaki, but soon he composed himself and put on a mask of understanding, “To oversimplify things greatly,” Kenichi explained. “Nearly seven months ago, a mad man lured SpaceGodzilla, either a new one or the original, from deep space to an island in the pacific. Godzilla, along with a list of monsters I would rather avoid naming individually, were either attracted to said incursion or already present on the island. Chaos ensued, Americans were involved-”
“H.E.A.T.?” Gordon chimed, and the doctor seemed taken aback by the comment.
“Ri-right, H.E.A.T. How do you- never mind,” Kenichi mumbled, waving off the interruption. “By the event’s end, SpaceGodzilla was killed but, and I still have doubts on this, twin distortions within space and time were created, birthing a handful of massive unidentified terrestrial organisms, including a new Godzilla. I could only visually confirm the latter last week after the new Godzilla arrived in Tokyo’s Harbor.”
Miki’s jaw tightened, betrayal no doubt the cause but the doctor’s apologetic tone followed her reaction, his focus solely on her. “This was all classified. I would have told you sooner, but…” The doctor’s worries melted away with a sudden, comforting, and understanding smile from his wife. “In regard to the original Godzilla,” Kenichi concluded as he looked back to Ozaki, “no body has been found, but Miki can’t sense him. That’s confirmation enough for me to say he’s gone.”
Doubt crept into Ozaki’s mind with palpable speed and force.
‘Consider me a non-believer then,’ he thought and then glanced at Gordon, realizing the man’s unnatural silence. The Captain looked to be in a trance, still processing Godzilla’s death or more than likely, thinking of whatever source passed along pieces of the classified event. Then like a volcanic eruption, Gordon snapped out of his frozen state of mind with renewed vigor.
“Mechagodzilla won’t be available,” Gordon remarked with overwhelming certainty. “I need to make a few calls. Acquire us transport.” A flick of the captain’s hand brought the tea to his lips where he gulped it down before passing the empty cup to Kenichi. “You’ll be fine here when your…” he looked outside to the four unconscious men still lying in the grass, “protection wakes up.”
Kenichi took the cup yet remained still, processing the comment until his body visibly jolted. “Wait! Where am I not coming?!”
“Classified.”Gordon arose and swiped at his pant legs, knocking any lingering dust off his attire. “You were only a target because you were in the way,” he assured before looking at Miki, “that won’t be an issue with Miki joining Ozaki and I.”
“Joining?” Kenichi protested, his face reddening from Gordon’s assumption. “She just got out of the hospital! She’s still recovering, and I’m not-”
A soft touch on Kenichi’s left hand brought both assurance and concern flooding in.
“They need me,” Miki affirmed while her compassionate embrace said the rest.
You will be alright. I’ll keep in touch. You will not be alone.
Deciding it best to try and combat the anxiety instead of adding to it, Ozaki promised, “I will ensure she’s fine.” The final words felt unnaturally hollow to the failed protector as he spoke them.
“Unneeded,” Dr. Yamane retorted without shedding his wife’s grip. “She’s far more amazing than you give credit. She’s stopped far greater-” The doctor held his tongue, pulling away to match Ozaki’s gaze a final time with such confidence, he couldn’t help but take notice. “And she’ll ensure the same of you both. I have no doubt that is why she’s going.”
Ozaki nodded along, quickly rising to follow Gordon’s abrupt leave of the residence.
Something about the prophecy, about the classified material he was previously told, had Gordon’s mind racing and while Ozaki wished he knew what sent his friend out of the house, he recognized the legendary drive of the ex-captain of the Gotengo. That wherever they were going, whoever Gordon was calling, that it would eventually lead to Orochi and even if it was through hell itself, Ozaki gave chase after his friend, relieved to finally have something tangible.
A path forward.
Whether it was toward victory or death, only time would tell.
Chapter 11: To Endure & Protect
Monster Island
The island shook under the weight of agony as screams of torment echoed through the air. Buried deep within a freshly dug rocky grave, Gomora awakened to the cries of anguish as the screams pulled forth a long dormant memory, of a similar set of wails created by a three-headed destroyer which ravaged his lands long ago. Tensing his aching muscles, Gomora felt his heart race, the draw of battle too much to resist.
One final round, that was all he could muster, but how could the mighty Gomora stand aside while he could still draw breath!
The rock wall containing the once unconscious beast detonated as if it contained a bomb. Through the smoke the saurian’s body charged forth, quaking the island with every clawed step. Eyes first darted to the elder as he ran, who lay under a constant stream of Micro-Oxygen, and then the saurian’s sight switched to the source of the cruelty, Destoroyah. Numb arms raised to the dinosaur’s side and with his momentum, the horned saurian slammed his left fist into the abomination’s gut.
Precambrian armor cracked. Destoroyah spun in surprise, expelling a vile filled yelp merely for Gomora to follow up with a right uppercut to the devil’s jaw. Devilish eyes widened with anger, the death-dealer’s battle-ax shaped head snapped up, and the abomination fell back a single step, but before Gomora could launch another blow, the invader slammed its right arm across the beast’s head. A sickening crack followed the strike. Gomora’s left cranial horn fell to the landscape while the saurian stumbled backward, refusing to fall even after such a mighty blow. As the two turned to face one another, Gomora felt his lungs burn, forcing him to wheeze uncontrollably.
Every appendage of Gomora felt numb. His lungs ached without end. Blood rolled down the dinosaur’s head and chest from too many lacerations to count, yet in front of him stood Destoroyah, its crimson exoskeleton barely scathed. It showed no sign of slowing, of growing weak. He’d blasted it. Blown it to pieces, yet through everything it refused to fall…
Gomora’s eyes for a brief moment peered at his thoroughly battered ally, watching the ankylosaur attempt to push itself upright even after such hellish torment. The stubborn elder wasn’t going to leave, not willingly… At that moment, Gomora growled and gritted his teeth, refocusing on Destoroyah who lumbered toward him with malicious intent glowing inside its piercing, yellow eyes.
Truth gripped Gomora like a vice. He couldn’t win, not against this abomination.
Gomora let loose an earth-shattering roar, attracting the attention of Anguirus as he intended before the horned dinosaur sprinted directly toward the Precambrian life form. Two arms launched forward from the charging dinosaur causing Destoroyah to thrust its own forward to meet the defiance of its will. A forceful shockwave erupted upon the two titan’s claws crashing upon the other. Rock fragmented under both monsters’ heels, muscles bulging on each creature’s arms as they tried to overpower the other in their grapple. Every fiber of Gomora’s being pressed forward, every ounce of strength contesting Destoroyah yet-
Destoroyah flexed its wings outward, extending its shadow over its brazen victim. A hellish screech boomed from its dagger filled jaws.
Gomora’s gaze shifted away from the monstrosity roaring before him to the elder, whose stubborn eyes were locked on him.
Sharing a common gaze, Anguirus felt his reptilian heart pause as he watched the horned beast give a simple nod, unearthing a cherished memory of a fallen ally, rival, and friend. A booming roar then echoed from the brute’s jaw, giving an instruction Anguirus resented more than death itself. Anguirus readied to counter, but as he watched Gomora refocus his roar to Destoroyah, defying the abomination’s war cry of death, the ankylosaur withheld his objection and used what strength he had to gallop on all fours toward Junior and Gabara.
Loyalty crushed stubborn pride with every footfall, yet hope, uncompromising under that immeasurable pressure remained unbroken, desiring that by the battle’s end another friend would not perish.
Solid rock fractured beneath Gomora’s clawed toes. The Precambrian horror pressed forward to end the insignificant gesture of strength, but Gomora matched the devil’s intent with adrenaline and rage, pushing his muscles far past any safe limit for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, the struggle gave way as a horrid crack rippled through Gomora’s right arm. Bone split through skin. An earth-shattering kick to Gomora’s abdomen followed, forcing the reptile backward to catch his nearly non-existent breath.
Gomora backpedaled through a trail of dust, stopping as his body struck the surface of the rock wall he recently exited merely to vomit a helping of oxygen-deprived blood. The wounded beast clutched his broken arm with his left while blue plasma ran down the horned dinosaur’s lower lips. With bloodshot retinas, he dragged his heavy gaze around the landscape, searching for his allies, but with no sign of them, and Destoroyah approaching, the battered dinosaur closed his eyes and plunged into a cherished memory.
A flash of light drew Gomora to see once more. Instead of Destoroyah or the island he called home, the battered saurian discovered a lush jungle under the darkness of night, set ablaze by a ferocious battle. A clash millions of years old yet a memory so vivid, Gomora tasted the embers billowing around him.
Bolts of crimson energy rained upon the fiery landscape like a meteor shower. The carcasses of hundreds of creatures lay scattered throughout the inferno, leaving Gomora’s juvenile self alone to gaze at the battle high above. Fighting in the skies, the saurian stood transfixed on a three-headed draconic tyrant, the source of all the destruction, clashing with a mere insect.
No matter how overwhelming the dragon’s attack, how menacing Ghidorah howled, the rainbow-winged moth refused to surrender. Its spirit, unbroken. Its war cry, defiant! The insect dodged three energized bolts with ease, charging once more to the dragon whose ominous silhouette glowed beside an erupting volcano.
Gomora closed his eyes as he realized the memory was drawing to an end as the bolts the moth evaded struck the fiery jungle. A concussive blast tore through his body, knocking his past self unconscious.
Ghidorah would survive the battle, this he knew to be certain after his re-awakening on Mt. Fuji, but every fiber in the dinosaur’s being hoped the moth was victorious another day.
Perhaps, one day, he would be too…
The bloodshot eyes of the saurian jolted open to the present. His left leg smashed into the ground. Somehow energy pulsated between his remaining cranial horn, and the protrusion on his snout. A bellow of defiance yearned to escape from the beast’s maw, but Gomora withheld the urge and continued to focus his power. With a cackle like that of lightning, his nasal horn blossomed a light so intense the sun would envy its brilliance, shocking Destoroyah who slowed in his tracks.
The wall behind Gomora erupted in a blaze of destruction as thick bolts of energy smashed against it. The force was so powerful, the air around the dinosaur became a turbulent maelstrom that sent plumes of smoke spiraling upwards. Brilliant flames flickered around his head, heating up his face until burns began to form across his now crimson hide. But with fury burning fiercely in his heart, Gomora kept pushing himself further beyond every restraint he had ever known.
If he couldn’t blast Destoroyah or blow it to pieces with a normal Oscillatory Wave, he’d use every scrap of power he could summon to ensure nothing remained! Destoroyah, the island, himself, Gomora could not comprehend what would be destroyed by unleashing so much raw power, but he only cared about one certainty.
He wouldn’t allow the others, the elder, the runt, even the coward, to lose their lives this day. If he was destined to lose, he would do so alone!
A scream, compiled of defiance, frustration, determination, and lacking fear cleaved through the land, shaking the heavens and cracking the dirt. Without ending the defiant yell, Gomora launched himself toward Destoroyah.
Every step was one on numb legs. Every tremor through his body a spasm of pain, yet he never deviated from his target. Sparks cascaded across the charred landscape. Tremors shook Destoroyah’s unimpressed form, and as he neared the abomination, the shadow which once seemed indomitable vanished, replaced by an all encompassing light. Gomora lowered his head and closed his eyes, returning to a darkness he knew all too well.
Uncertain if he’d ever escape its grasp again.
The cool water of the Pacific contorted around Anguirus’ legs. Looking to the peaceful horizon brought a certain shame for the ankylosaur, yet he couldn’t deny the request of his ally. He understood what would transpire, and it was of no benefit to any ally being in close proximity.
The splash of salt water drew the primordial creature’s gaze to Junior who entered the coastal waters with Gabara clutching to him urgently, whimpering in fear as he attempted to swim beside the son of the King of the Monsters. As the pair entered deeper waters, an explosion from the island’s interior caught Anguirus’ attention. A minor tremor shook the island while a plume of smoke ascended. The size and type of cloud forced the ankylosaur to look away in disappointment and with a head hung low in grief, he ventured forth into the warm waters of the pacific.
White, bulky claws cracked as they flexed in satisfaction. Within the abomination’s grasp, it clutched the freshly cracked cranial horn of Gomora, gazing upon it with devilish delight. Destoroyah’s curiosity of the feature lasted only so long before it crushed the horn within its palm and glanced down to the dirt in front of its right foot. There, with most of its upper body buried under the terrain, Gomora lay stagnant. Like a weed, Destoroyah ripped the unconscious dinosaur from the dirt, allowing rocks of red and brown to rain upon the charred landscape while it brought the beast to its eye level. Studying the battered saurian, Destoroyah found its gaze drawn to the fresh injury on Gomora’s cranium, cackling malevolently.
The soon-to-be corpse had summoned so much raw energy, but what did it matter against a simple strike against the head? All the determination, all that power, easily bludgeoned under the dirt and rendered useless against it.
A cacophonous chorus of millions of voices cackled with amusement. Eyes narrowed in glee while the abomination’s horn illuminated a sinister light.
Destoroyah reared his head backward, its long horn sparking with power and swung forward to decapitate Gomora while he was unconscious merely for a bolt of crimson energy to glance off his right side. Smoke sizzled off the hide of Destoroyah who yielded its attack, glancing around the landscape for the source. Consistent tremors followed the mysterious attack, visibly rattling the dirt as fractures appeared across the rocky terrain.
The Precambrian horror’s gaze swept the shifting environment, and a condescending screech boomed from its jaws.
Another challenger? Why would these creatures continue to fight against the inevitable end of their worthless lives! No matter, whatever dared attack it, it would not remain hidden for long!
Violet energy swept across the landscape in a grand show of force. Jagged earth instantly vaporized from the all-encompassing blast, but as the Micro-Oxygen energy ceased spewing from Destoroyah’s maw, the malevolent beast found no new challenger, only a deteriorating landscape.
The quakes rattling Destoroyah peaked in intensity. Cracks continued to ravage the earth as the dirt beneath the abomination’s heels shifted and turned. Destoroyah’s steady gaze whipped around, searching for a cause of the sudden turmoil until the jagged terrain groaned and split open, unleashing a powerful gush of raw energy. The violent red light flooded the area, exposing large veins of irradiating ore that gleamed with a menacing, pulsating crimson hue.
Destoroyah’s seething eyes turned to Gomora’s unconscious form, its horn flaring with a menacing orange light. It now knew where the energy Gomora had channeled in his last act of defiance had gone and with deadly intent, Destoroyah brandished its Visceral Blade once more. The devil swung its blade just as a detonation of energy enveloped Monster Island, swallowing itself and its target within a cascade of burning radiation.
The ocean’s surface instantly stilled, as a wave of unimaginable pressure rocketed through the air. A towering inferno of immense proportions exploded from Monster Island, and streaks of orange flames spread across the sky, piercing the atmosphere with its apocalyptic intensity. Gabara smashed face first into the water from the unexpected shockwave, Junior screeched in surprise yet stayed at the surface, but Anguirus remained unaffected and still, watching the explosion unfold.
Brown, wary eyes widened in disbelief as Anguirus beheld the growing wall of nuclear energy. The brief quiet followed by a thunderous roar of atomic power shattered his home, yet a strange sense of pride began to wrap its way around Anguirus’ spirit as he recognized Gomora’s valiant attempt to banish Destoroyah once and for all. The horror could’ve endured the blast, but the terrifying uncertainty of whether it survived couldn’t take away the billowing admiration Anguirus possessed for his fallen ally, rival, and friend.
He would remember the mighty, tenacious Gomora and ensure his sacrifice was not in vain.
Focusing back on the horizon, Anguirus barked for the struggling pair to follow him. Their trek to safer lands would be long, arduous, and depending on the state of mind of their destination’s protector, as life-threatening as Destoroyah.
Ayana’s Chamber, Shrine of Orochi
The stabbing was quick and decisive, causing Ayana to freeze the moment her makeshift weapon made impact. Her daze stemmed not from the riddance of her bottomless anger for the slayer of her husband, or the presumed momentary revelation of taking her first life; instead, the shock captivating her came from her intended victim plunging her weapon into his own skull.
Fresh blood ran down the pale forehead of the tyrant. Tsukuyomi’s arrogant smirk remained present, seemingly unfazed by death or finding some twisted humor at his final moment in plunging the sharpened chopstick into his own skull. Ayana realized the true reason behind the lofty smile as the being’s eyes began to flicker, and his body moved from the momentary lockup.
“Your intention to kill, wasted effort,” Tsukuyomi arrogantly cackled.
The haunting words he spoke did little to quell Ayana’s hate, but she grasped the meaning of Tsukuyomi’s self-inflicted stabbing. She couldn’t kill him, at least not with what meager methods she could derive from inside her prison. Only the obvious course remained, and bonding with Iris through the sacrifice of her mind, body, and soul possessed its own series of drawbacks and risks like the destruction of the world. Ayana could only imagine the desolation which Iris would bring if it felt the wretched hatred living within her heart.
“I know of the Ryuseicho’s history. Your revolting connection.” Tsukuyomi visibly trembled and then continued, “But I fail to understand why? What does the Ryuseicho gain from your bond?”
Ayana’s hateful expression did not falter, dismissing any thought of answering her captor.
Her friends. Her love. All silenced to bring about the revival of her long buried hatred, the perfect bait to lure Iris into obedience.
While she could not sense the Ryuseicho, Ayana held no doubt Iris was connected to her again, sending shivers of revulsion down her spine.
‘How else could it track me down?’ she pondered.
But in the seemingly hopeless quagmire, Ayana latched onto one glaring upside. She couldn’t be harmed, at least not physically. Not without her captor risking Iris laying siege to the meager temple buried under rock and dirt.
‘Is that why you’re asking?’ she thought, trying to surmise a way to gain an advantage from the inquiry. ‘You’re afraid he’ll run out of patience?’
Tsukuyomi’s confident smirk faded, replaced by a twisted glare emanating from his blood-covered eyes. “Silence? Let us end this meager charade with one question. How many need to die for you to speak? Innocents, tortured to their last moment, only to know your name as the reason.”
Ayana’s expression held firm in the face of the threat, but deep within, the guilt already plaguing her heart made it clear she’d need to give up what she knew. Her wrath, great and powerful as it was, could not shield her from the familiar horror of guilt.
“I… raised him. Now, Iris needs me to be absorbed,” Ayana finally admitted but not without her anger accompanying the words. Easing her glare ever so slightly, she backed to the far side of the room. “He’s… incomplete.”
Twitching fingers danced over the bloodstained chopstick as Tsukuyomi maneuvered his grip over the small, metal nub jutting out of his forehead. Solidifying his grasp, a quick pull unsheathed Ayana’s weapon and with another flick of his right hand, he casually tossed the blood-stained weapon to her feet. Wiping the blood and brain matter off his face as casually as someone removing crumbs of food from their lap after a meal.
“And the Ryuseicho has never severed that connection, correct?”
Ayana glanced away. “Iris… can’t.”
With a fresh devilish grin plastered on his bloody face, Tsukuyomi turned back towards the door to leave, but a sudden outcry from Ayana paused him mid-turn.
“That’s it!?” she yelled, her voice echoing out of the open door, down the pitch black hallway. “What about the why? What about-”
Tsukuyomi chuckled. “I think I get it now. In fact, I can feel it.”
Ayana’s fists tightened, beaming a look that could kill as the killer spun back to face her.
“Your anger. Your hate. I thought I understood before, but now I see why the Ryuseicho needs you.” The killer’s face shifted to disgust. “You give my pet purpose. It was born into your pain and it absorbed your venom until your drive became his own. You corrupted it, as all life does to greater beings.”
Tsukuyomi spun back to the door. “I was worried the Ryuseicho may look for another host, but there is no need to doubt my will over it. As you said,” the twisted being glanced back at Ayana, grabbing the door, “he can’t.”
The door slammed shut, the sound masking Ayana’s fall upon her knees. The swirling vortex of hate which flourished within the young woman, her source of comfort and strength suddenly felt repulsive. A bitter emotion she wished nothing more than to expel from her body like a swimmer who accidentally swallowed salt water. The desire for vengeance… how could she so foolishly return to that path? It was what the madman that took her prisoner wanted. What drove Iris mad.
Desperate eyes snapped to the metal weapon just beneath her eyesight, a dark thought accompanying the glance.
‘If I can’t kill him, then the only way is…’
Uncertain fingers reached out and then immediately pulled back as Ayana banished the grisly idea.
‘No, I can’t!’ Ayana assured herself. She wouldn’t succumb to death nor would she play into her captor’s plans. She owed that much to Tatsunari. Thinking back to Miki’s sessions, Ayana sat upon her old cot and breathed deeply, closing her eyes to focus on what needed to be done. She needed to expel the vile emotions which plagued her. To control her hatred. To starve her husband’s killer and Iris of what they craved from her. It was Ayana’s only path forward.
Vengeance could not be a part of her any longer.
Monster Island
Small patches of molten rock marked the only remaining parts of Monster Island still above water. The rest of the atomic isle either sizzled beneath the raging surface of the shallow waters, or fell like hail after being launched into the high atmosphere. Dull red rock, drained of its radioactive power, and scorched black earth careened into the ocean’s surface, disturbing the already boiling waters until a hulking mass rose from the depths from what was the island’s center.
Piercing yellow eyes gazed to the heavens. Wings flexed in preparation of flight, to escape the hellish terrain, but the membranes lining the abomination’s appendages were badly torn and coated in a vile, green ooze – Destoroyah’s own blood.
Unlike the mutation’s disfigured wings, its thick exoskeleton, lining the rest of its body, had spared it the worst of the explosion’s wrath, not that it was without injury. Cracks across its body exposed muscle and leaked a similar green ooze, but it was nothing that couldn’t be repaired in the span of a day with a replacement of the missing, living mass.
Destoroyah would live from the wounds, still capable of terrorizing this world with malicious glee. Every mind that comprised the being bent towards that singular desire and as fresh whispers of Orochi directed its lust for destruction, Destoroyah gazed to the horizon as if it could see its next target of desolation.
A new island in need of purging. A stronghold brimming with life yearning to be reduced to a barren wasteland. How could Destoroyah turn away from such a tantalizing target? The abomination bellowed a fresh roar, quaking the heavens and the molten ruins of Monster Island.
Death would descend on Skull island. What could stand in the way of such force?
A few miles out from Monster Island’s ruins, blending in with the millions of tons of rock falling like hail from the island’s detonation, a gargantuan mass of brown crashed into the Pacific Ocean, vanishing beneath the waves in an instant. The seemingly lifeless body of Gomora possessed no resistance to his gradual descent into the ocean’s depths. Sharks, attracted to the blood spilling out of the unconscious creature, moved in for an easy meal merely to flee upon feeling the tremble of the kaiju’s meager heartbeat.
Gomora’s body clung to life, but as the final bubbles of air ascended out of its open maw, and his already energy starved body possessed no further radioactive power to refuel its negligible reserves, the slow decline of the saurian’s heart marked the end. With a final thump of his energy starved heart, Gomora descended into the natural darkness permeating the ocean’s depths, unable to halt his own demise.
Sharks and other carnivorous sea life gave pursuit of their monolithic meal, plunging headfirst into the sightless realm. Moments after the majority of predators vanished downward, their bodies reappeared in a chaotic frenzy, desperately bolting toward the surface, fear driving their ascension as an irritable growl reverberated through the water behind them. The monolithic darkness too was forced into retreat as a light carved through its body effortlessly, snatching Gomora from the void’s grasp and bathing the unconscious saurian in an azure, radioactive glow.
A soft thump greeted the nurturing light.
Winner: Destoroyah
