Chapter Text
Godzilla didn’t know how things changed so much in such little time.
It was a quick transition, one he could only see looking back at all the years long gone now. But he knew how it all began.
With a ball of fire falling into the ocean.
✦
The loud crashing sound that came even before the impact had been enough to wake him up, huddled deep into the ocean floor as he was. It still haunted him sometimes, whenever his memories got out of control and twisted themselves into unhappy ones. He could still feel how the impact itself sent waves of vibrations crashing all around him.
It was enough to give him a headache, he remembered that well too, and with a tired flare of his nostrils, he had kicked himself away from the floor and swam towards the vibrations still reverberating endlessly all around.
It really was a little maddening, as bad as when the ground shook and the land shifted. Sounds just wouldn’t stop bouncing into each other and coming back to his ears, and he wasn’t the only one affected by such a racket. On his way up, he dodged and swam out of the way of many dazed and slowly sinking creatures. He could smell blood, could feel distress and confusion in the water, but could not smell death.
With a flick of his claw, he turned one sharp-toothed one back around and watched it scurry away.
It took just a little longer to find the reason for such a mess.
Slowly sinking deeper into the ocean and shining in small bursts of light was a... ball. The water around it bubbled and steamed, its surface looked singed, and it sent out tiny vibrations from deep within its burned and hardened surface. Beat after beat, in a constant thrum.
He inched closer, narrowing his eyes at it, and nearly flinched back when something within it stirred. And a sound, like none he had ever heard before, reached his ears. Muffled as it was, it still sounded clear enough to seem hurt. Or exhausted.
He stared at it for just a second longer, before opening his jaws and catching the slowly drifting ball between his teeth. There was another little sound, then silence, while he slowly made his way to the surface.
Sand crunched and drenched beneath his dripping feet, and he leaned forward to place the ball down. There was something in there, something making those strange vibrations. But it was quiet now. Quiet and still.
Until it wasn't.
In the blink of an eye, the ball shook and seemed to rip itself from the inside as something at least tried to move out of it. Struggling to, and there was no better word for it, nudge its way out was... something. It was round, and grimy, and wet, and—blue. He thought it would smell worse than it did, but the thing inside of the ball didn’t appreciate his sniffing.
It seemed to give it a new sense of urgency, as two little stumps clawed and tore the ball open for whatever it was to peek out of it.
The first thing he noticed were the mandibles, biting at air and huffing as it nudged itself up, and then its eyes. It was a strange glowing thing, with eyes as blue as the oceans and as bright as the night skies. Those eyes squeezed tight but did not close, and he watched quietly the way its body undulated with a strange dim light when it twisted around to look at its surroundings. But then it twisted back quickly, snapping its head toward him with widened eyes.
It made that strange short sound again, something between a chirp and a croon and a chattering of mandibles, and its body glowed in a pattern of waves he had seen plankton dance together in at the end of each day. He could almost see the shape of something in those pale spots. It was strange how much it reminded him of those same plankton flashing when something hungry swam by.
He hesitantly called back, keeping his tone as low as its call had been. The thing’s body shone brighter with his grumble, then stilled again into that deep sea blue. It tilted its head to one side, and tried its best to imitate his call it seemed, but it just sounded like it hurt.
When he leaned closer its mandibles let out a muffled sound. He stopped when its body coiled up like it was planning to go inside its ball again, but after a quiet moment, it slowly relaxed, but kept its mandibles drawn in a way that reminded him of bared teeth.
Its skin was indeed glowing, from up close he could see better the patterns lining the soft carapace that made its head and back, could see the multiple arms it seemed to try and keep still clinging to the opening it had carved, could see the way its eyes slowly opened more and more until the careful tilt of its head was followed with a soft chirp.
He grumbled again, and blew at it with a huff.
The thing chirped and shook its head, bringing up at least four stumpy arms to mess with its face. While he watched it eagerly cleaning away the residual grime and liquid that still clung to its body, a quiet huff and a glance from under those arms followed him as he straightened back up.
With a little bit of compensation to one side, the thing and the ball fell over, and it carefully dislodged itself from its—egg, it seemed. He had never seen an egg like this before. Glowing and humming. Almost as alive as the thing inside of it had been. Even now, where it laid half torn in the sands.
The thing looked around, eyes following winged creatures flying overhead or settling into tall trees, clumsy feet trudging and feeling up the sand. A droning sound leaving it as it gazed down and brought one of its arms up and closer to its mandibles.
The thing looked back at him over its shoulder then, and took one tentative series of steps closer.
It rose as far as it could and chirped, one of its legs rising with it and waving itself in front of its chest. Or what constituted as a chest in its body. He watched it silently, cocking his head to one side and huffing when the thing waved two arms instead.
He lifted one claw and imitated its movement, and it seemed satisfied then. With a little croon, it turned around and made its slow and wobbly trek deeper into the island he brought them to. He was still not so sure about his choice of an island to begin with, but as he watched the thing disappear into the foliage, he felt that doubt turn into something less to do with worry.
And had it... thanked him?
*
The thing couldn’t understand him.
That had to be the only reason it hadn’t moved when he pointed out the spider coming its way. It wouldn’t try to communicate with it for any reason, would it? It was the perfect example of an easy meal.
Would have been. If the spider hadn’t caught a glance of him over the thing’s head and promptly retracted its mandibles back to itself.
The thing had watched it turn around and leave, a meek little chirp chasing it. Then turned its body around to chirp at him, like he’d scared it away and that was a bad thing.
He grumbled at it, it imitated the sound again, a little better, then turned back around and continued on its way deeper and deeper into the dense forest.
He didn’t know what it wanted, what it was looking for, if it was only getting a look at the island or wandering aimlessly. He didn’t know anything about it, couldn't even know where it had come from by its smell alone, it just smelled of the ocean and something else he couldn't tell. And it would only respond to him with mimicked grunts or chirps.
Some chirps were inquisitive, along with a tilt of its head, but it would soon seem to give up and continue with what it was doing.
Which now was feeling up the shape of a large boulder and nuzzling away the hanging vines that covered a small opening to a cave. Way too small for it, and it seemed to know that too when it backed away again with a clack of mandibles and a huff.
It didn’t seem to mind having him follow it around. At least the little looks it kept throwing over its shoulder didn't seem bothered, maybe cautious, or curious, but not bothered. It wasn't hurt, as far as he could tell. Even if such a fall from wherever it had been dropped from should have done some damage. Adding the fire to that? This was strange. But not strange to the point of getting him on edge, really. Strange to the point of being better than some quiet rest, for now.
He really didn't have anything else better to do, and this thing had woken him up from what he was already doing.
It... also didn’t look like trouble, all things considered. It wasn’t aggressive, the creatures that had been dazed by its sudden arrival had recovered when he looked back down with the egg in his teeth—not like that was much of its fault, looking back at it too—and it seemed mostly curious. Mapping and prodding as it went. Alert, but still wide-eyed and careful when it saw something that grabbed its attention.
It wasn’t from anywhere near, it smelled strange, and it couldn’t understand him. But it was a curious little thing, too curious for its own good.
There it went again chirping at something with enough teeth to cut it with a glance. And judging by the look it leveled towards the thing, it more than planned to.
With a growl, the snarling beast backed away with a glare thrown his way, and the thing didn’t turn around to look at him this time. But he caught the end of a sigh leaving its mandibles.
It was also in no condition to fight, with those chubby legs and wobbly body. But it still walked around like it could. Like there were no worries in the world.
The thing chirped lowly to itself, and he took another step closer, a shadow guarding each of its many little steps.
The Cosmos had been chatting incessantly since they landed.
But from their previous suggestions of where to aim her silk at to ideas for her next cocoon that ranged from size to color, their chatter still circled back to the one topic; they had yet to stop commenting about the tall creature glowering behind her back.
In front of her eyes, her faeries danced and twirled around each other. They had donned the image of winged beings with fleshy wings and feathery tails, they told her it was a creature of this world. She liked it. Their chirps sounded close to her own. And one of their last chirps would have her widening her eyes if she could.
She blew them away with a slightly admonishing coo, and they fluttered quietly closer to hover over her head instead. The creature still walked in silence with thundering steps, clueless to the suspicious faeries glaring at it. She didn’t understand why.
They had nearly disappeared into thin air when the creature had growled at that beast with the spike-horned armor. She was no fool, that beast had no interest in her except for that of hunger, but all it would have taken to deal with that problem was one string of silk aimed right at its mouth.
Still, she couldn't help but appreciate that it cared enough to do that. Even if the Cosmos were not so moved.
As unnerving as it was to have it shadowing her every step, she still wanted to know its name, know what the names of the things around them were, thank it for leaving her on an island of all places. She was sure she had hit water on impact, it was unmistakable, the change of frying heat to sizzling. Though much better than hitting hard rock.
It was dangerous, she could tell. Those teeth weren’t just for show. And others would not move away from its path with a single growl if there was not a known promise of violence that was always kept true behind them.
But it had been nothing but kind so far—she would appreciate a little less growling so she could try to interact with other beings past the initial attempts at eating her, the first contact always did take a little effort—but it had been most gentle, its teeth had not even pierced the walls of her egg, and it kept trying to communicate with her too. Grunts and grows as they may be, it still tried, just like she had. Oh, well. Maybe they could find a way to understand each other one day so she could ask it about its world.
She knew one way. But the exhaustion clinging to her mind could only cause more discomfort to them both.
Another cave too small to fit even the first half of her body, let alone a cocoon, and she backed away again, trying not to let her frustrations show too much, but it was hard with her body glowing to match the setting sun. She would not have a large creature following her around forever. She needed armor, she needed wings.
The creature huffed somewhere behind her, and she turned around with a questioning chirp. Noting that the Cosmos had been staring at it unblinkingly and on guard as soon as she had turned her attention to her search.
It grumbled deep in its chest and walked past her with long and strong strides. But then stopped a little ahead, turned its head around, and tipped its chin forward. Deeper into the forest.
Her faeries chirped, anxious and suspicious. She followed it.
It led her on a little weavery path, where tree tops completely covered the floor of the island from any sunlight, and the bioluminescent plant life and tiny insects guided their slow trek.
The creature’s head nearly brushed the top of the trees, and its lashing tail served as a barrier of sorts, not that she worried anything would sneak up on them. She couldn’t feel any presence here that wasn’t small enough to be crushed, though her guide expertly stepped around plants and lines of little beings going about their day.
The creature’s leg was not there a second ago, or she would not have walked right into it.
She hurriedly took a few steps back and glanced up at it with a few words to share in mind, language barrier or not, but it was still looking forward. Its head moving only to cast her a single glance from the corner of its eyes, then looking ahead again.
She followed its gaze, and her mandibles parted with a trill.
A large cave mouth, covered by a thin stream of water and hanging vines, with a tiny river coming from inside of it twisting its path away and deeper into the forest—stood right there, in front of her eyes.
She hurried closer, jumped over the shallow waters, and walked into the cave, ducking past water and vines to find the dimly lit interior, safe for occasional little bursts of light from tiny beings or the plants hanging from the walls. It was massive, tall, and deep. Enough for more than one egg. Deep enough that her guide could fit. More than one even.
Though her guide was nowhere to be seen.
She rushed back and peeked her head out from behind the curtain of water to chirp at it.
It watched her from outside, and grumbled back, the water from the little stream shook with its vibrations.
And then it turned around and walked away, its lashing tail disappearing into the foliage. Like it had not just given her a means of survival, a place to rest, and drink and—and start over.
Her faeries fluttered around the cave excitedly when she pulled herself back inside, circling those glowing beings and crooning a melody in greeting, not at all minding that they were either ignored or given a wide berth.
She shook her head with a soft trill and looked around for the perfect spot. Not too dry or too wet, nowhere that could disturb any of the life already there and—
There, perfect.
She sat down close to the dripping wall and pulled the first string of silk from her mandibles. It would be a long process, but this cave was well protected. It would be alright.
Were there any more Guardians in the systems close by? She couldn’t feel the presence of any other on this planet, but surely those nearby would come in contact soon enough, her faeries could try and reach them later once they were well rested. She could already feel them extending their reach. They had given all of themselves and more already, they deserved to rest.
The chattering of her mandibles echoed against the cave walls, and as if called by her musings, the Cosmos fluttered closer.
Watching her movements closely with low croons, each flap of their tiny wings illuminated the surroundings in little bursts of light and dust. She greeted them with a chirp and watched them with a tilt of her head. How happily they fluttered around in their new forms, how excited they looked to see a new world, how bright their light looked again.
She could protect this planet.
The thought came as suddenly as a flash of thunder, but she welcomed it, welcomed the Cosmos' words, because it was true. They watched her do so, then fluffed the feathers of their tails with a new radiant gleam in their eyes.
This time it could be different, they would not lose another world to her weakness again. They could not. She was—she would be stronger, she knew more, her faeries believed in her. As they always did. And she would not let them down, their trust and faith would not be for nothing. She would not let any of them down.
Maybe... perish the thought, but... maybe they were all long gone, no eggs to hatch from anymore and... If that was to be true, then she would not disappoint them either. She could not let them down. Because if they were all gone then it all fell down on her. It all—
Oh, but of course there were others, there always were. Hidden in meteors, slumbering in star cocoons... She would find them soon and together they could do what should be done.
Let the Golden Demon come, they would be ready.
Wouldn't they?
She squeezed her eyes shut as far as they would go and turned back to the cave around her. Its dripping water, its humid air, the dim lighting filtered through the waterfall at its mouth. She nuzzled at the plain cave floor, stuck the silk into it, leaned back, and glued it again next to the same spot. Bit by tiny bit, a little path of dots appeared, soon to become a large circle and then so much more.
The Cosmos sang, they danced, and mimicked helping her set up her silk. And after a quick show of strength and will, with exaggerated huffs and chirps, they floated back to her head and plopped down with tired sighs.
She trilled at them and continued her work. Her ears occupied by songs, her mind occupied by gentle eyes and quiet looks. So curious, seeking, and searching. Such open curiosity on such a hardened face. From up close its teeth looked sharper, its eyes more golden, its size more looming. But from that close, she could also see the way it angled its chin down in just the right way that hid its teeth, could watch the way it stilled its body when she couldn't help but prepare her silk for a quick dash towards the forest.
How glad she was to not have followed the Cosmos' advice to aim for its eyes and run. The creature was a blessing upon them. A bit of light to their cursed luck. As weary as she felt deep in her soul, tired and suspicious above all, she was not going to ignore such a show of kindness.
Hopefully they would meet again one day. She had much to thank it for. From a good distance, if possible.
Flashes of fire and darkness occasionally broke the gentle thoughts she tried to keep, but she forced those away with a more forceful path of silk dots.
She had escaped. Somehow against all odds, her egg had cruised the Cosmos safely and carried them away, not into a lasting sleep but to a planet. Far enough that she could no longer hear those lasting cries reverberating through the Cosmos' web like the lasting ripples on the surface of a water puddle. Painted dark and dense by—
Her faeries stirred in their perch on her head, fussing and humming sadly, and she cooed an apology. She should have minded her thoughts more.
“Alright. Listen here, you two." Shaking her claws off, she leaned back and rested on her hind legs. "For just a day—and I know, it is a novel concept, but... how about... we focus on the now?"
Her chirps sounded odd in the denser air of this world, but she didn't need to raise her volume as much as the past one. Packing as much optimistic levity into her words as she could, she bobbed her head and chirped at the yelps it got her. "Let us focus on this cave, and this cocoon, and these little beings you've been pestering," she added, "you know they can't see you.”
She leaned down and pulled more silk from her mandibles, and her faeries slid down her face, playfully hanging from her mandibles before jumping off to hover closely instead. One curious and one chastised little head cocked at her words.
“This is a new beginning, yes? You can try reaching out to others later, but for now, we can just... rest." She chirped at the ground and the growing circle of silk, feeling the warmth of their light on her skin. "We must be far away. If he didn't—if he didn't follow."
She got no answer, but she knew she was talking more to herself than anything.
"We should be alright for now. You can't feel him, yes?" Two fuzzy heads dipped their chins. "Then there is no hurry. We can settle down, explore, get to know this world. Don't you want to?"
They did. They had wanted to since they had left the egg and traveled deeper onto the island trailed by that large beast.
But her insistence on finding a safe place for their cocoon had tempered their thirst for exploration, and no doubt centered their thoughts back on unpleasant ones. It was important, the first thing they should do, the first thing they always did. But the circumstances were different now, weren't they? They wanted to explore, they wanted to distract themselves.
"Did you see that creature back there? And those teeth? And that other creature and its mandibles? Massive!"
The Cosmos did not look convinced by her attempts at levity, if anything their little eyes held slight judgment and... sadness.
Sad acceptance.
She wouldn't have that.
“Our egg could have traveled anywhere." She leaned closer until they blurred against her vision. "It could have been hit by a meteor, it could have been swallowed by a star, but look where we are now. Isn’t it nice?”
The world sang around them as if on cue, and the Cosmos turned to watch the life bustling in it, just behind that waterfall. It was so lively, so different from the world and the failure they had to leave behind.
“Don’t you want a new home? I’m sure the Alpha of this world won't mind. Judging by the..."
Show of goodwill...? Kindness?
"...Hospitality of that kind beast that helped us, we should be welcome here. Just until we are ready to... to leave again, what do you think? We can make ourselves useful. We just need to find a way to do that soon.”
They settled on the petals hanging off the wall of the cave, ruffling their wings and shaking off their feathers. Willing to be hopeful with each word. Bright. Only shining brighter. She cooed at them and their trust-filled eyes.
“We’ll be alright, I... I promi—”
Their eyes widened, and she didn’t have it in her to finish saying it. They knew. They knew too well. She would never make promises she couldn’t keep.
“We’ll be alright.” She nuzzled closer, tilting her head as they hugged her face tight with low croons of their own. “We will.”
The songs changed back to chirps and from chirps back to songs while she worked, their conversations circled from topic to topic, until they grew tired, and their chatter finally slowed in pace. Their chirps continued, but quieter, and as she tuned in on their conversation she realized it was also with a different tone than they'd used before.
The big spiky creature, they called their guide. Scary, and kind. Sharp, very sharp.
With mumbled trills and huffs, they confessed that they liked it. She could see why.