Chapter Text
THE INDONESIAN STRAIT, A FEW KILOMETERS OUT FROM INFANT ISLAND - JULY 18TH, 2026
Lyla paced around in the back of the osprey anxiously. The Chen Twins were seated down, glancing at her curiously. Barnes was in the cockpit, keeping the plane steady as he shuddered at the familiar sight of the blanketing storm.
“I’m just still trying to wrap my head around this.” She said, staring at the Twins. “You’re saying your ancestors were able to evolve to the point that you’re born with the ability to communicate with Titans?”
“Not all Titans,” Ling pointed out. “Just Mosura.”
“So, uh, how did Mothra give you guys ink exactly?” Grayson asked, staring at the slightly luminous tattoos that lined both their bodies.
“They come from an ancient tribe known as the Hotta.
All of them stopped as the unmistakable cries of both the Blight and the Queen tore through the air. The roars pierced through the metal hull, filling the V-22.
“Y’all might wanna see this,” Barnes called out. The crew walked up to find that a few kilometers from the osprey, Mothra and Battra were clashing. Light and dark, battling for dominance over the skies. They flew around, swiping at each other in long and calculated attack runs. “On the bright side, we’re almost near a Monarch Destroyer. Lemme see if I can radio them and get some support.”
“And you just glossed over that?” Lyla pointed out the window towards the brawl before.
“I mean, I think we’re far away enough. Here’s hoping they don’t come by for a hello.” The Colonel said. He swerved suddenly, sending the others tumbling for something secure to latch onto as the aircraft was struck by a bolt of red energy. Dials rocketed and jittered. Alarms sounded off.
Everything came flashing all back to Barnes. The horrid calls of Ghidorah. The frost-bitten, windy hell that surrounded him in Antarctica and Boston. The way his three heads snarled and grinned in unison as they sadistically sought out as many of his friends as possible, vaporizing them into nothing but wretched dust and a dour smell.
His hands started shaking. The V-22 started to dip, making a beeline for a small shallow section near the shore of an island. Ilene bolted forward, grabbing onto the control wheel as the osprey began to spin around. Ling and Lyla slowly crawled their way over to the seats lining the walls. They strapped themselves tightly. Out of instinct, Ling grabbed onto Grayson’s hand as they rapidly approached the solid ground. She wasn’t about to protest.
“Get ready!” Ilene called out from the pilot’s seat as she tried reassuring Barnes gently. “Jackson, please. Listen to my voice. Ghidorah is dead. He won’t be able to come back. But we need you right now. Please, Barnes. Y-Your team needs you.”
The Colonel was lost in a sea of his own thought, gazing ahead emptily as the aircraft dived. But something about that last sentence was like the flipping of a switch. He lurched forward and quickly yanked the wheel. The osprey pulled up just barely, skimming above the water. They collided with an outcrop of trees. The plane tore through the foliage, burying itself further and further within Infant Island.
The screeches and roars of the battle became louder and louder. The sound of the ground shaking was enough to rattle Ilene’s eardrums. She frightfully gripped onto the back of the Colonel’s chair, doing her best to keep her body from jerking and writhing free. A coppery and bloody taste was definitely on the tip of her tongue. Her side was aching brutally as a few impacts caused her to ram right back into the seat. The world around was a fuzzy, jaded mess. And despite all that, she kept hanging on out of desperation and hope.
The ruined aircraft gradually came to a halt just outside of a spacious clearing. The trees weren’t so much as cushioning as they were bowling pins in the way of the V-22.
Ling immediately unclipped from her seatbelt and rushed over to her sister. Ilene was resting on the floor. From what was visible, her arm and cheek were terribly bruised. Her lip was cut. Blood was oozing down from her forehead. Yet it only made the illuminated engravings pulsate more vibrantly. They shone with a sapphire hue as Lyla walked over, groaning and wincing.
“Oh shit,” she murmured as she saw the state of the Mythologist. “Shit! Hey, can you hear me?” She leaned over and carefully pried open her eye. “How’s your vision? How many fingers am I holding up?! Are-.”
“I-I’m fine.” Ilene coughed, trying her best to be reassuring. “I’m just a little bruised. Th-That’s all.”
“Oh shit!” Barnes exclaimed as he jumped from his seat and collapsed by her side. “I’m sorry! Oh god, I’m sorry, I-I should’ve b-been better. I-.” He was also shushed by the rather calm Ilene.
“I-It wasn’t your fault.” She smiled weakly, but genuinely. “I know it can’t be easy. Living with all of that. And getting a promotion.”
“Maybe it’s time that I consider asking for a vacation.” The Colonel chuckled lightly as he tore away at a piece of his sleeve that was already ripped. He held it up to her temple, dabbing the blood away gently.
“You’ll be okay sister. I swear.” Ling clutched onto Ilene’s hand firmly.
“Th-Thank you, sister.” Ilene beamed softly, leaning back against a small pile of rubble.
Lyla leaned over her, watching the Twins closely. “Y’know, you guys are full of surprises.” They turned to stare at her with incredulity. “Sorry. Kinda killed the moment. Yup. That one’s on me.”
Ilene snorted. “I-I think your paycheck might be a little hard to fulfill, Lyla. After we kind of sunk Skull Island. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. After all, I get to be a part of the crew that sunk Skull Island. That sounds pretty badass if you ask me.” Grayson replied, smirking warmly. “Both of you take it easy for now.” She turned to the Colonel. “You too, man. I’m gonna go through this mess and see if I can pull out anything useful.”
She started her search by pulling up pits and pieces of metallic plating and shielding. Soon, a soft pinging sent Lyla searching through the wreck. She ultimately came across a small GPS. On the digital screen, there were two green dots. One was Raptor 02, the other Raptor 010. Both were marked in red writing as being: DOWNED.
“Hey, I hate to interrupt,” she walked over to the group. “But is this what I think it is?”
“Just a locator. It picks up on Monarch signals while also sending an SOS back.” Barnes said. “Hopefully they pick it up soon.”
“Yeah, but there’s another signal.” She turned the device over to him.
“Wait what?” He peered closer. “But the temple expedition was the only unit equipped with this type. If there’s another close by then that means-.”
Lyla finished the sentence he started with a growl. “Rammfeld.”
The sound of sparks flying was what ultimately woke the Lieutenant. He shook his head gruffly, his eyes widening in amazement as he assessed the situation.
Currently, he was sprawled over the window. Surprisingly, it hadn’t shattered immediately. Rather, he was left motionless as he desperately did his best not to crack the glass further. Wires were strewn about in the cockpit, sparkling and fizzling in an erratic display. A faulty screen was blaring with the words: COLLISION DETECTED. Everything was basked in a red glow, the emergency lights flickering on. The sky outside was dark, despite the fact he’d been flying in perfect dawn weather a few hours ago.
Above him, the small vial was hanging from a bag. The same bag also contained the USB drive with everything that was stored away at Outpost 33. Both of which were enough to set him up for a dozen lifetimes. In other words, he couldn’t afford to lose it.
Rammfeld tried reaching up slowly, the glass beneath him cracking softly. He barely tugged on one of the bag straps as he rested back down. He tried again, this time leaning up further. Yet again, the vial was barely within his grasp. He groaned in anger and simply shot up, yanking the bag down.
The small sample slipped from its secure space. It crashed against the left side of his face, the fluid seeping his skin, eye, and mouth. He shook it away incessantly, digging through the satchel to retrieve the small USB stick.
Suddenly his skin started to burn. His left eye grew bloodshot and red, ghastly horror jolting through his body. His mouth became itchy as he thrashed around in horrid pain. Rammfeld could barely hold himself together as he writhed in agony. His cheek reddened and blistered. The left side of his face grew malformed. As he wriggled about, the glass finally gave way.
Rammfeld fell down a small decline, tumbling through brush and weed. He tensed up and bore through it, the USB drive clutched tightly in his palm. Landing roughly into the ground, he gritted his teeth and bore through. He slowly stopped at the foot of the hill, reaching quite a large clearing with a decent view of the surrounding area and the mountain that laid in the middle of the island.
The Lieutenant cursed under his breath as he carefully examined the sample he had in hand. Luckily, it was mostly undamaged. He winced in pain as he turned to get a brief glimpse at the shards of glass embedded into him, tearing the back of his shirt to shreds. The pain in his face had slowly subsided. Either that, or he had just grown numb to it.
A new, slight pain came rushing forth as a fist struck him from his right. He stumbled for a short second, turning to see who had punched.
“I’ll be damned.” He chuckled at the sight of Lyla, who remained a few steps away in a defensive pose. “Didn’t I shoot you?”
“Gonna take more than a bullet to take care of me.” She snarked back.
“Just my luck,” Rammfeld sighed as he reached for his holster. He shuddered in anger when he found it was empty, his sidearm likely having slipped out during his tumble. “Even without a gun, I can still lay you out.”
“You sure about that pal?” Lyla asked mockingly. “Because you look like shit. Actually, it’s not a bad look. Kinda matches who you really are.”
“How poetic.” He murmured. “Y’know the offer’s still on the table. You don’t have to follow Monarch anymore. Even with just this USB, that’s a hefty bonus. I can get six figures at the max. That’s still something.”
Grayson paused for a moment, staring ahead at him before she let a small grin spread across her face. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For letting me know you lost that vial, genius.” She remarked before diving for Rammfeld’s closed fist.
He dodged easily, bringing an elbow down against her back. She crumpled to the ground, scrambling to her feet as the Lieutenant circled her. She had barely gotten up when he delivered another jab, ramming his fist against her cheek.
As their brawl went on, Battra and Mothra battled above the skies. Both of them took long attack runs, striking brutally and trying to throw the other aside. The Blight of Humanity suddenly stopped midair. His wings glowed with a crimson hue, crackling and pouring out in a vile and electric manner. He curled them in, before letting them fly back out to release a large pulse of red energy.
The vermillion shockwave roared across the island. Cracks formed in the earth. A vaporous red gas poured out, veins spreading across the ground. Mothra yelped in anguish, horrified at the sight of her island becoming tainted and poisoned. She glared at him as he cackled with warped glee, flapping his wings in a thunderous motion.
The Queen of the Monsters flew towards him, flying low. The trees were thrown back, rocked by her action. She tilted up and clawed away at his chest, dodging the volatile retaliating strike.
“Jesus Christ,” Stanton mumbled. “They’re trying to tear each other apart.”
Everyone in the observation room was silent. Watching the carnage unfold on monitors suspended on the wall and a large viewing window.
“Do we have an ID on the other Titan?” Guillermin pondered aloud.
“Pulling up a bio now,” He replied. “Uh, wow. This thing was buried. The closest match we got is Titanus Battora. But it was a myth.”
“Doesn’t look like a myth anymore,” Mark remarked as he walked over beside him. “How’s this new Mothra doing?”
“Well, she appears to be newly reformed. And... h-her energy signature is maxing out the charts. But he’s practically leaking enough radiation to destroy this island in a few hours max. I’m... I’m not sure she’ll be able to hold her own for much longer.”
“Then we must act now. Doctor, how are we doing on backup?” Gondo asked.
“HQ says they’ll still be a couple of hours.” Rick opened up a message log. “The maser turrets are the only type of ammo that could put a dent in that thing.”
“What about your onboard weaponry?” The Director wondered. “You’re saying you have no maser weapons on hand?”
”We, uh, weren’t expecting something like this.... Sir.”
Goro grumbled.
“It’s no use,” Guillermin said. “The only thing our missiles can do is no more than a nudge.”
Gondo stared firmly at him. “I can work with a nudge.” He stormed out of the room.
Mark and Guillermin followed closely behind as the Director let his suit jacket fall to the floor and started walking up to the deck.
“Sir, with all due respect-.” Russell began, only to be cut off by Gondo’s booming voice.
“If this is happening because we moved the egg, then part of that blame is mine. Please, allow me to make it right.”
They walked out into the stormy chaos. The image of Mothra and Battra battling above the skies was visible from afar as Gondo strode over towards a large cannon.
“Soldier,” he yelled out. “You’ve been relieved of your post. Please head down to the observation room at once.”
“Uh, sir?”
Goro simply glared at the meek soldier, who quickly rushed off as he had instructed. He rested behind the turret, squinting his eye down the sights. The cannon moved slowly, the Director barely getting a glimpse of the two behemoths as they battled midair. One moment they were in view, and the next they were nothing more than blinding lights shimmering with blue and red hues.
“I can’t get a clear shot.” He shouted to the others.
“So what can we do in the meantime?” Guillermin asked.
“For now, we must wait.”
Lyla kneeled on the ground, bloodied and weary. Rammfeld was equally as exhausted, towering over her as he slowly delivered a series of further punches. She tried to leap up and grab onto his jacket. He sent her back down to the ground with another punch.
“I might be burned, but that doesn’t mean I’m a cripple.” He coughed out. “C’mon, you know I’m right. This world is already on fire. May as well make some money before it turns into hell.”
“You... Y-.” Lyla muttered, spitting out a small glob of blood. “You’re such a goddamn cliche... You know that?”
He sighed and kicked her in the stomach. She crumpled down to the ground, groaning and gasping. Her face was bruised and battered. Her knuckles split. Everything felt like it was on fire, coursing through her nerves sporadically.
“Oh, boohoo.” The Lieutenant murmured.
“And you’re a self-centered sociopath. And a selfish, narcissist.”
“Wow, you reading my resume or something?!” Rammfeld groaned as he searched his body for anything that would finish her off without much effort. “Anything else you’d like to exposit?! Clearly, we have the time.”
“And you suck at keeping track of your belongings.”
Markus was about to mock her a second time, only to suddenly pause. He stared back at Grayson in confusion as she snickered under her breath. Slowly, she pulled out two objects from her pocket. One was a small thermite charge, no bigger than a gum packet. The other, the delicate USB drive.
“Like I said, self-centered.”
Rammfeld tried leaping forward, making a desperate grab for the drive. In response, Lyla stepped back. She stuck her hand out, dangling the small USB over a vaporous, hellish crack in the Earth. He instantly stopped, holding his arms up over his head.
“Okay, okay. Let’s be calm.”
“Says the guy who was trying to murder me a few seconds ago.” She snarked, stepping closer to the pit. She toyed jokingly with the small explosive in her other hand.
“Fine. What do you want? Surely you have a price. So name it.” He begged.
Lyla rolled her eyes and put both objects in her palm, which she half-heartedly held over the gaping maw.
“Sell the USB, keep it all.” He continued. “Would that suit you better? We never have to see each other ever again. You can use that money to go off and do whatever the hell you damn well please. No more sucking up to Monarch, or Chen, or anybody else for that matter. Or just destroy it. But if you detonate that thing, those two are gonna notice. And I don’t think they’ll be as forgiving as Kong for blowing up the island.”
“Y’know what?” Lyla paused for a slight second. “I actually wanted this little doohickey. The USB was... what’d you say? Oh yeah. A bonus.” She pressed the small button on the side and dropped both devices into the crevasse.
Rammfeld bolted over and skidded to his feet. His palms were outstretched, doing his best to try and clasp onto the data drive. He arrived too late as it plummeted, along with the explosive, into the ground. The thermite charge activated slowly, persisting against the caustic fires of the Earth.
5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
The ensuing explosion rattled both him and the fleeing Lyla, who had barely made it past the edge of the clearing. They were both flung back as the crack fizzled with erratic crimson pulses, flickering and sputtering chaotically.
Battra shared the manic state, his connecting infection of the island halted by the sudden attack. He entered a frenzy as he flew up into the air and swiftly dive-bombed Mothra. They both were sent colliding down into the mountain of Infant Island, crashing through the rock and dirt. The avalanche caused by their tumble ripped through the nearby woods and forests, burying the vegetation in a sea of decrepit ruins.
He could’ve easily ended her right there. A single swipe and the Queen of the Monsters would be no more. But his rage was far too great. He turned and focused on the small, beady insect that had disturbed his vengeance. The winds roared as he raced forward, his pincers and arms sharpened for the kill.
A ringing grew in Lyla’s ear as she slowly leaned up to her feet. She glanced over to see that Rammfeld was in a similar state of shock, shaking his head fervently. His gaze soon focused on her as his face contorted into a mournful scowl of hatred.
“You dumb motherfu-!”
The ground around him exploded into grass and boulders. Lyla was flung back yet again as a Battra crashed into the ground. The Lieutenant was reduced to mere nothingness from the impact. In his fury, however, the Blight of Humanity tore into the dirt, shoveling it all into his mouth in a frenzied state of outrage.
Grayson watched as she gradually tried backing away. Her movements, as slow as she could be as the hellish Titan feasted on the mangled remains of the demolished Rammfeld. Her efforts were for naught.
He snapped his head in her direction. His eye reflecting her disheveled and horrified expression back at her as he glared, preparing to crush another meager bug.