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Somewhere, far beneath the endless waters that covered Opealon....there lurked a strange beast. Born and created in another world, sent tumbling through rippling walls and boundaries between dimensions and robbed of much strength to crash down here in the sea.
Deep, deep down below, where the sunlight didn't reach, it lurked, sleeping.
Curled up into a ball, tithing in its restless fitful slumber.
Perhaps it dreamed...perhaps it didn't. Was its mind complex enough to harbor such things? None could say. Most wouldn't want to bother even asking. The longer it slept, the longer the inevitable decision of whether it would be friend or foe could be put off. Whether it would be destroyer or savior. Whether it would be wrathful or peaceful.
It twitched.
Something tugged at it, in a deep and tiny corner of its mind.
The same way intelligent animals might be able to realize that a mirror was only a mirror, that the reflected creature was merely itself and not another, so too did the slumbering beast realize that the sudden sensation worming into its mind was not its own. That it was an alien, external concept and force being angrily beaten and driven in, through the many layers of haze and unconscious sleep.
It twitched and spasmed, contracting and curling tighter in on itself. An aching, unpleasant feeling jolted through its diminished body. Gnawing, tingling, nerve-grating. Not at the level of what it would recognize as 'pain', but unpleasant and agonizing for the sole fact of it being unknown. Churning, roiling, tumbling end over end in its gut. A sickening, nauseating, body-wracking ache.
Something wholly foreign and decidedly other was reaching out.
Something not a mere monster — the slumbering lizard knew monsters, had fought monsters, had defeated and slaughtered many of them. They were all powerful; some had nearly bested it, but in the end death was not to come to the monster. It was King, of the world and all monsters within it! This thing, that stabbed and clawed at it with many tiny needles of internal agony, was not a monster...it was something else.
It was not a human — the restless lizard knew humans, had seen them run cowering and screaming from its mere presence. Had seen them develop strange metal things to fight back against it and other monsters. Had seen their numbers, how some of them ran while others fought. How they were so often helpless, and could only tremble and endure however they could manage to. How they needed to be saved, by the rightful, ancient king from the other monsters of the world. They were crafty and strange, but they were not this thing.
It was something else.
Something entirely different; as crafty and intelligent as a human but as insidiously powerful and unrelenting as a monster.
It wormed and bored its way into the mind and soul of the withered titan below the waves, peeling back layer upon layer of its mind and the primitive reptilian instincts to grab directly for its core. The small kernel of intelligence, the tiny sliver of waking thought and mental acuity.
It took hold of it...and squeezed.
Images sprang to the sleeping lizard's brain and mind unbidden. Bizarre washes of color and alien landscapes, flashing wildly and unpredictably...then slowly beginning to resolve together. Agonizingly slowly, as painstakingly as if they had to be created solely to be seen by the mind's eye of the audience of one....
Sparkling waves of endless blue. The sun shone overhead, gleaming white and pure. Clouds were sparse and far between, but were a fluffy white and harmless. The sky and air were clear and peaceful, the weather was perfect.
A serene day, with no danger...
BOOM
Distantly. The horizon. Edge of sight. Lightning crashed, striking down toward the water below with a sickly purple glare about it. In the sky above it, a single black cloud loomed, tiny and insignificant seeming...
....until it began to grow.
It grew, and it grew, and it grew...
Other clouds began to convulse and twist, turning a sickly gray. Mighty thunderheads, beginning to swell and distort as entire storms built up within them in mere moments, disgorging torrents of black sludge.
The water below recoiled. The once-pristine waves, shimmering and gently rolling blue, took in a sickly green hue. Stained dark and oily, frothing and foaming as the torrent of sludge and other vileness spread out.
The ocean trembled, and something wailed.
A wordless, voiceless noise that came from everywhere and nowhere.
Creatures of the sea began to float listlessly to the surface, laying still and dead among the foaming and boiling sea-slime, as the noxious pollution spread.
That single, black cloud grew larger and larger, spreading out into a looming, colossal man-like shape. Its vast arms reached out, stretching from one side of the world to the other, as it rained torrents of purple electricity and sickly black-green liquid, more oil than rain.
Two points of red light burned within it, holding some overbearing and suffocating disdain and hatred. At once eyes and beams of a lighthouse, they shone out, sweeping over the seas and boiling the water where they traveled. Steam and noxious vapors remained, as more fish and sea life sprang up from the churning waters.
They were twisted and broken. Too long of tooth, too big of mouth, too few of scale and too ungainly and twisted of bone.
They were wrong.
Diseased and sick.
In its slumber beneath the waters, the slumbering and dreaming lizard recoiled and trembled, bubbles trickling out of its nostrils. Somewhere deep within, it had begun to awaken.
It had been hurled through time and space, much of its strength stolen and left for dead...but it was not dead. It was very much alive, and still strong. It would not simply sleep forever, and endure...this.
The sickness choking out the world spread over the waters, the freakishly mutated and wrong creatures swarming everywhere.
Underwater reefs crumbled and rotted, replaced only with writhing beds of teeth and tentacles, disgorging tar and ink like monstrous rock-bound squids.
The few bastions of human life on the water were assaulted, sunk down to the last and consumed by the blighting presence.
The dream took on an all-new ferocity as something in it became all too real. The already chill water around the slumbering beast grew dark and still, squeezing and pressing in with pressure of many miles deeper below.
It was suffocatingly cold and the same dark, wrong blackness of the dream.
The sleeping giant's eyes flashed open. Electric blue irises positively shown out in the dark water, elongated irises contracted to a knife's edge.
Its mouth parted, sucking in a deep 'breath' of water, and it exploded into motion.
The sea around it frothed and foamed and boiled, the blackness and chill dispersing.
With a mighty heave, it threw itself into motion, churning the water around it as its colossal form surged upward through the waves.
Light above slowly began to trickle down, the golden rays stabbing at its eyes after so long the dark and sleep, but it pressed on.
Time had no meaning to it, but as it finally reached the surface, it seemed to have at once been only moments and eons since it had lest felt and breathed the air.
It burst out of the water, throwing a tidal wave out into the air around it...and it roared. An ear-splitting, deafening noise that could come from no other creature, and made the sea around it tremble and ripple, vibrating into a fine white mist and froth.
It heaved and panted, squinting in the glare of daylight above the sea and simply floated there, idly treading water.
The King of Monsters was awake.
The Arbiter had spoken, dragged it from its unconscious healing trance, and revealed to it the form of the danger that would soon come to claim it and the world it slumbered upon. Too simple to truly understand the actual threat it presented, but aware enough to understand the simple concepts of 'danger' and 'enemy'...
And if Godzilla could understand such concepts, then it could fight them.
And it could destroy them.
Deep, deep down below, where the sunlight didn't reach, it lurked, sleeping.
Curled up into a ball, tithing in its restless fitful slumber.
Perhaps it dreamed...perhaps it didn't. Was its mind complex enough to harbor such things? None could say. Most wouldn't want to bother even asking. The longer it slept, the longer the inevitable decision of whether it would be friend or foe could be put off. Whether it would be destroyer or savior. Whether it would be wrathful or peaceful.
It twitched.
Something tugged at it, in a deep and tiny corner of its mind.
The same way intelligent animals might be able to realize that a mirror was only a mirror, that the reflected creature was merely itself and not another, so too did the slumbering beast realize that the sudden sensation worming into its mind was not its own. That it was an alien, external concept and force being angrily beaten and driven in, through the many layers of haze and unconscious sleep.
It twitched and spasmed, contracting and curling tighter in on itself. An aching, unpleasant feeling jolted through its diminished body. Gnawing, tingling, nerve-grating. Not at the level of what it would recognize as 'pain', but unpleasant and agonizing for the sole fact of it being unknown. Churning, roiling, tumbling end over end in its gut. A sickening, nauseating, body-wracking ache.
Something wholly foreign and decidedly other was reaching out.
Something not a mere monster — the slumbering lizard knew monsters, had fought monsters, had defeated and slaughtered many of them. They were all powerful; some had nearly bested it, but in the end death was not to come to the monster. It was King, of the world and all monsters within it! This thing, that stabbed and clawed at it with many tiny needles of internal agony, was not a monster...it was something else.
It was not a human — the restless lizard knew humans, had seen them run cowering and screaming from its mere presence. Had seen them develop strange metal things to fight back against it and other monsters. Had seen their numbers, how some of them ran while others fought. How they were so often helpless, and could only tremble and endure however they could manage to. How they needed to be saved, by the rightful, ancient king from the other monsters of the world. They were crafty and strange, but they were not this thing.
It was something else.
Something entirely different; as crafty and intelligent as a human but as insidiously powerful and unrelenting as a monster.
It wormed and bored its way into the mind and soul of the withered titan below the waves, peeling back layer upon layer of its mind and the primitive reptilian instincts to grab directly for its core. The small kernel of intelligence, the tiny sliver of waking thought and mental acuity.
It took hold of it...and squeezed.
Images sprang to the sleeping lizard's brain and mind unbidden. Bizarre washes of color and alien landscapes, flashing wildly and unpredictably...then slowly beginning to resolve together. Agonizingly slowly, as painstakingly as if they had to be created solely to be seen by the mind's eye of the audience of one....
Sparkling waves of endless blue. The sun shone overhead, gleaming white and pure. Clouds were sparse and far between, but were a fluffy white and harmless. The sky and air were clear and peaceful, the weather was perfect.
A serene day, with no danger...
BOOM
Distantly. The horizon. Edge of sight. Lightning crashed, striking down toward the water below with a sickly purple glare about it. In the sky above it, a single black cloud loomed, tiny and insignificant seeming...
....until it began to grow.
It grew, and it grew, and it grew...
Other clouds began to convulse and twist, turning a sickly gray. Mighty thunderheads, beginning to swell and distort as entire storms built up within them in mere moments, disgorging torrents of black sludge.
The water below recoiled. The once-pristine waves, shimmering and gently rolling blue, took in a sickly green hue. Stained dark and oily, frothing and foaming as the torrent of sludge and other vileness spread out.
The ocean trembled, and something wailed.
A wordless, voiceless noise that came from everywhere and nowhere.
Creatures of the sea began to float listlessly to the surface, laying still and dead among the foaming and boiling sea-slime, as the noxious pollution spread.
That single, black cloud grew larger and larger, spreading out into a looming, colossal man-like shape. Its vast arms reached out, stretching from one side of the world to the other, as it rained torrents of purple electricity and sickly black-green liquid, more oil than rain.
Two points of red light burned within it, holding some overbearing and suffocating disdain and hatred. At once eyes and beams of a lighthouse, they shone out, sweeping over the seas and boiling the water where they traveled. Steam and noxious vapors remained, as more fish and sea life sprang up from the churning waters.
They were twisted and broken. Too long of tooth, too big of mouth, too few of scale and too ungainly and twisted of bone.
They were wrong.
Diseased and sick.
In its slumber beneath the waters, the slumbering and dreaming lizard recoiled and trembled, bubbles trickling out of its nostrils. Somewhere deep within, it had begun to awaken.
It had been hurled through time and space, much of its strength stolen and left for dead...but it was not dead. It was very much alive, and still strong. It would not simply sleep forever, and endure...this.
The sickness choking out the world spread over the waters, the freakishly mutated and wrong creatures swarming everywhere.
Underwater reefs crumbled and rotted, replaced only with writhing beds of teeth and tentacles, disgorging tar and ink like monstrous rock-bound squids.
The few bastions of human life on the water were assaulted, sunk down to the last and consumed by the blighting presence.
The dream took on an all-new ferocity as something in it became all too real. The already chill water around the slumbering beast grew dark and still, squeezing and pressing in with pressure of many miles deeper below.
It was suffocatingly cold and the same dark, wrong blackness of the dream.
The sleeping giant's eyes flashed open. Electric blue irises positively shown out in the dark water, elongated irises contracted to a knife's edge.
Its mouth parted, sucking in a deep 'breath' of water, and it exploded into motion.
The sea around it frothed and foamed and boiled, the blackness and chill dispersing.
With a mighty heave, it threw itself into motion, churning the water around it as its colossal form surged upward through the waves.
Light above slowly began to trickle down, the golden rays stabbing at its eyes after so long the dark and sleep, but it pressed on.
Time had no meaning to it, but as it finally reached the surface, it seemed to have at once been only moments and eons since it had lest felt and breathed the air.
It burst out of the water, throwing a tidal wave out into the air around it...and it roared. An ear-splitting, deafening noise that could come from no other creature, and made the sea around it tremble and ripple, vibrating into a fine white mist and froth.
It heaved and panted, squinting in the glare of daylight above the sea and simply floated there, idly treading water.
The King of Monsters was awake.
The Arbiter had spoken, dragged it from its unconscious healing trance, and revealed to it the form of the danger that would soon come to claim it and the world it slumbered upon. Too simple to truly understand the actual threat it presented, but aware enough to understand the simple concepts of 'danger' and 'enemy'...
And if Godzilla could understand such concepts, then it could fight them.
And it could destroy them.