It wasn't long before the entire school was gathered in the sub-sub basement area. After an eerie trek through the tangled, cluttered, dank sub-basement, classes filed one-by-one down a narrow stairway into a wide, clean, well-lit lounge-ish area.

There was a series of such rooms that could have held perhaps another forty people before things would get uncomfortable; as it was, the students were spread out over at least three generations of the school's old furniture. Some of the tables held board games and old magazines, but most went unused in the tense atmosphere.

The teachers had gathered at the far end around an old radio, talking quietly but urgently. Sakaki sat a few feet away on a maroon couch that must have spent its early years in the teacher's lounge, an unabashedly frightened Chiyo to one side and a mellow, unconcerned Osaka on the other.

"This place…" Sakaki murmured. She didn't complete the thought verbally; nobody seemed to be listening anyway. These rooms, and doubtless hundreds of others all over Tokyo, had been set up in preparation for whatever horrible events were going down. It was nice to see they were being looked after, but she would have liked some warning.

"It must be the Soviets," Osaka suggested, turning the egg over in her hands. "Or do you suppose the Mongols are invading again? Maybe the ice caps melted and a tidal wave is smashing Tokyo as we sp-!"

"Osaka, please!" Chiyo protested. "How can you joke around at a time like this?"

"Why not? Is it time to panic already? Just look at Tomo."

The wildcat idiot stood atop a round table in the center of their room, an arranged checkerboard at her feet. "Okay! I'll whoop any ass in this room!" she howled. "Who's up?"

"Yeah, but she's…" Chiyo floundered. "She's… Tomo."

"And I'm Osaka. Ta each their own, eh?"

"I-I just wish you wouldn't… be so…"

Osaka met the younger girl's scared eyes, suddenly contrite. Chiyo was just a kid after all, and probably didn't need to hear someone mocking their predicament. "I'm sorry… but, but I'm sure everything'll be alright. Just you wait."

The three of them fell into silence, letting the muted babble of several hundred displaced students wash over them. Though she tried not to, Chiyo found herself eavesdropping on the teachers behind them. (To be fair to her, they weren't doing a very good job of keeping their voices down.)

"…without any warning! It's outrageous!" a teacher whispered angrily. "Haven't they ever heard of sonar?"

"This caught everyone by surprise," Kurosawa soothed, "We should be worried about what to tell them." As always, her concern was first for the students. "We have to be careful about this."

"We've never had to…" Mr. Ogawa paused, "Wait a sec, where's Tanizaki?"

"Locked herself in the bathroom," someone answered. "Forget about her. What do we tell the kids?"

"The truth," Mr. Kimura said in that soft, creepy, scene-stopping way of his. "We have nothing else to say. They have a right to know."

"I agree," Kurosawa put in. "But the final say is with the principal… Mr. Honada?"

"Unbelievable…" Mr. Honada shook his head, "That this should be happening now… just like fifty years ago…" That ticked at Chiyo's mind, but before the idea could form, Sakaki spoke up. "Listen."

"What is it?"

"It's… I don't know…" the tall girl's brow furrowed. "Faint. It's gone now… no… there. Do you hear?"

Osaka closed her eyes and leaned back. "Yeah… yeah, I heard it, too."

"What?" Chiyo looked worriedly between them. "What is it?"

"It sounds…" Osaka considered. "It sounds like somebody took a glove coated in resin and ran it over a contrabass." She opened her eyes to see the others staring at her blankly. "And then played the sound backwards."

"Er… what… what does that sound like?" Chiyo asked.

Osaka shrugged.

"It's an animal," Sakaki realized. "It's…"

"VICTORY!" Tomo shrieked, upending the checkerboard and sending pieces everywhere. "King me, fool!" Her opponent shook his head and left before the coming torrent of verbal abuse could crash down on his unworthy head. "You can't handle the Takino-nator!"

"Ahem… excuse me." Mr. Ogawa held up his hands and silence descended, so sudden and oppressive that even Tomo shut up. "Can everybody hear me? Alright. As you've, as you've probably guessed, we're not down here getting our paychecks." This got a few weak chuckles that grew when Kurosawa threw an 'aw, shucks' gesture behind him. "Yeah… we've taken shelter because, about twenty minutes ago… the creature known as Godzilla has appeared in Tokyo bay."

Dead. Silence.

"I… I don't know what else to say." Ogawa glanced back at the other teachers, then settled for, "Keep to the shelter for now. The radio will, uh, tell us what's up, there's a special G-Force frequency or something… we got it?" Kurosawa made an 'OK' with her hand. "Great! Great, that's… uh, that's it, I guess." He sat down.

Again. Dead. Silence.

"I'm… I'm going to go and get Yukari out of the bathroom," Kurosawa said awkwardly, standing and picking her way through the students to exit.

A few more seconds passed before the room fairly exploded. How would you react to the news that a hundred-meter tall, radioactive death-ray spewing prehistoric monster was loose in your hometown? Whatever your answer, there was probably a student in that mass that you could identify with.

Not many would admit to reacting like Chiyo, who folded in on herself, tears beading under her eyelashes. Sakaki put an arm around the trembling girl's shoulders and drew her close, offering not inane reassurances but only her presence, which Chiyo accepted gladly.

Meanwhile, in the inky reaches of space, a (naturally saucer-shaped) vessel cut through the void towards our small blue planet! (1) If it were to slow in its mad whirling, one would be able to make out the Armada of Planet X's fearsome crest on its shining hull, a skull with angry eyes gripping a blood-dripping sword in its pointy teeth. Clearly, these were people who believed in making an impression.

The bridge was crewed by men who looked human except that they had (gasp!) blue skin and white hair. Currently, things were a little messy; the mechanics had set up a bank of cameras (rather, their strange alien equivalents) facing the great curving viewports at the bridge's fore.

The alien commander, Prince Xolarus, stood impressively before them. He was tall and princely, his face hard and sharp but somehow benevolent, framed by long silver hair. He wore a golden cape over a black uniform, but instead of the Armada's horrible logo, his held the family's crest of a purple sword with wings.

"People of Earth," he said in a deep, impressive voice, making a grand gesture towards the distant world behind him. "I am your new ruler." After savoring the effect, he suddenly slouched a little and turned to his staff. "How was that?"

"Not bad, not bad," his Second, a heavyset little fellow named Xethnex, said. "You might work on your inflection."

"People of Earth? People of Earth? People of… Earrth?"

"Never mind, you did fine. Seeing your alien visage should shock them into listening anyway."

"Unless they laugh," the Third-in-Command muttered under his breath.

"Shut up, Xoltan! No one likes you!" Xethnex yelled, then turned back to the prince. "In all honesty, I think we're ready to go."

"I dunno… I still feel like we're missing something," Xolarus looked around. "Um… a prop or something."

"Like a staff or a scepter?" the Second suggested.

"Oh, but that would be tacky…" Xoltan muttered.

"Goddammit, Xoltan, you're out of your element!" Xethnex slapped him. "I know what we can use… a pet. One of your dragons?"

Xolarus smiled. "I would like that very much. Bring me Xcisha. I mean… Xkisha? Xixxsha?" It was an ironclad law among the people of Planet X that you should never correct the Prince's pronunciation. It saved him much embarrassment, but unfortunately it also sometimes left him out in the cold.

As a courier went out to fetch the dragon, another of the Prince's staff appeared at his elbow. He was a short, fox-faced man that crouched atop a bank of consoles like a gargoyle. This was Agent Xond, head of the covert operations on Earth. "My prince?"

"Ack!" Xolarus clutched at his chest. "Oh… good day, Xond. How goes your search?"

As tradition demanded, the prince would choose his bride from among the conquered people; Xolarus counted himself lucky that he wasn't subjugating the Cockroach People of Space Hunter Nebula M (2) or some such.

"We have a few possibilities in mind. Now, you wanted one from this island of… Japan, right?" Xond struggled with the alien pronunciation. It'd taken him months to stop saying Xapan. "Why are we taking Japan first, anyway?"

"Why not?" Xolarus didn't want to admit that he'd blindfolded himself and thrown a dart at a spinning globe.

"Fair enough. As a final check, what are your criteria again?"

"Okay…" the Prince stroked his chin. "Beautiful goes without saying, right? Right. She should be tall, but not taller than me. Dark hair is nice, 'cause it's so exotic… on that note, blue eyes would be cool, too. Uh… since she'll be the queen of the Earth, she should have a gentle spirit… and smart, she has to be smart… but also quiet, to make things easier on the king, 'ey?"

Xond nodded. Nothing had changed so far. "Anything else?"

As Xolarus considered, the attendant returned with his dragon. The sinuous, white-scaled creature wrapped gratefully around his arm as he accepted it, recognizing its master. His expression warmed as he stroked the trilling creature. "She should like animals."

Ah! The deciding factor at last! "Thank you, my Prince. You will hear from us shortly." As the spy left, though, another thought occurred to Xolarus. "Hey, Xond? I feel like a pervert for saying this, but a good-sized chest would be a plus!"

Xond smirked a little. "We've got you covered."

As soon as Godzilla's arrival had been announced, Kaori's first thought was to find her idol, though she wasn't sure if it was because she needed the Ms. Sakaki's support or if she was hoping to offer support herself. With nary a second thought, she bravely set out into the scene of chaos that was their shelter.

Over time, though, the students settled. What else could they do? There was nowhere to go anyway. Most of their number clustered around the radio, watching impatiently as Mr. Ogawa fiddled with it. A few even seemed enthusiastic to hear how G-Force was faring.

"It's only natural that they would recover so quickly," Mr. Honada said softly to himself, watching them with bleak affection. "They're young. They don't remember the horrors of the past… they don't understand what—"

"Lemonade?" a young teacher offered, holding a Dixie cup out to him. Honada was jerked out of his dark pondering hard enough that he almost got whiplash. "Good stuff. I think somebody spiked it."

"Uh… sure. Thank you."

Taking the cup in hand, he turned and looked over the throng of students. "It's for the best," he decided. "It is not their weight to carry."

Tomo definitely would have agreed with him. She sat at a table with Yomi on the far side of the shelter, as high of spirits as ever. "This is the best damn lemonade I've ever had! Hey, ya think somebody spiked it?"

Yomi looked at her tiredly. "How can you be so upbeat?"

"Well, what's wrong? We're safe down here, right?"

"I'm not worried about us, stupid! I mean, what about my family? Heck, what about your family? Why aren't you worried?"

"Huh?" Tomo blinked. "How would worrying help?"

"Well, it wouldn't, but…"

"Seriously, Yomi, I don't wanna be stuck here with you if you're going to be all cranky and gloomy… well, more than you usually are."

"You selfish little…" Yomi sighed and covered her eyes. "Don't you have the slightest concern for anyone out there?"

"Well, of course," for an instant, Tomo's eyes were soft and not at all manic. "But c'mon, Yomi, lighten up! Let's make the best of this… I mean, look, even Osaka knows what's up!" She indicated Sakaki's couch, where the Osakan gal had sprawled over her third and fallen fast asleep, the mysterious egg cradled against her stomach in one hand. "See? She knows what worryin' will get her!"

"Yeah," Yomi glanced back at her. "But she's… she's Osaka."

"And guess what? I'm Tomo!" She slapped Yomi's shoulder heartily. "So suck it up, ya whiney bitch! She's doin' her thing and I'm doin' mine!"

"What have I done… to deserve this…" Yomi moaned, pushing her friend away.

It was then that Kaori's search finally came to an end. Did she fly into a jealous rage when she saw Chiyo curled up in the crook of her idol's arm? Of course not! All she saw was the strong and virtuous Sakaki protecting little Chiyo-chan. Who wouldn't want to protect her?

"H-hi, Ms. Sakaki." Sakaki nodded pleasantly in return. Her gaze seemed a bit distant, but under the circumstances, that could be forgiven. Be natural! Be yourself! Stop being so nervous! "M-may I sit w-with you?"

The tall girl glanced down at Chiyo, then over at the sleeping Osaka. "Er…" she started apologetically. Oh, right. The couch was pretty full.

"It's okay," Kaori said quickly, then sat against the couch next to the raven-haired girl's feet, drawing her knees to her chin. "I'd just rather not be alone." Without really thinking about it, she rested her head on Sakaki's knee.

"Um…"

Osaka made a sound in her sleep and shifted; suddenly, she too was resting on Sakaki, who was beginning to feel a bit like furniture. Still, she didn't count herself too unfortunate until Tomo happened to notice this arrangement and thought, well, when in Rome…

"BANZAI!"

And then, being Tomo, decided to "do as the Romans do" from twenty paces and at thirty-five kilometers an hour.

Osaka stood in the center of a vast plain of waving, waist-high grass. Something huge rushed through the air over her head, but when she looked up it was already long gone. Puffy white clouds rolled across a forget-me-not blue sky, propelled by a cool breeze that she could feel running through her hair.

All in all, it was the third most vivid dream she had ever experienced. (Her visits with James Brown in his snow-shrouded Temple of Soul still trumped this one, but that might have been because of the Himalayan cold.)

"Ayumu Kasuga!" A pair of high-pitched voices called in unison.

"Waugh!" she cried, jumping back. "It's the new recruits!"

"You must return the egg!"

"And they've got a one-track mind," she scratched her head and gazed around, but the field was empty save her and an ominous black statue that stood in the near distance. "Uh… where are you?"

"Down here!" Osaka knelt and observed that two four-inch-tall women were standing at her feet. Well, how about that. "Oh, hey!" she said, holding her hand out in greeting, "Whassup?"

"You must return the egg!"

"Y… yeah… I got that much…" she looked between them. "Who are you?"

"We are the priestesses of Mothra!"

"Er, Mothra?" The whatever-it-was rushed by overhead again. She looked, but all she could see was that the dark statue had drawn nearer. It waved in a friendly manner when their eyes met; this did little to make her feel better. "Never heard of that one. Are you two a cult?"

"No!" they snapped, "Mothra is the mystical guardian of Earth!"

"Guardian of…? Oh, so you mean like Ultraman?"

There was a bit of a pause. "…sure," the priestess on the right finally said. "Look, we left that egg where we did because we thought that the Soul of Light would find it there."

"Yes?"

"And then… well, and then you picked it up," Lefty finished. "You have to return it so that the Soul of Light can find the egg and take it to Birth Island."

"I could…" Osaka started.

"Mothra draws strength from the Soul," the two explained, "If her egg doesn't grow with the SoL, she won't be strong enough to protect the world!"

"But what if I'm the Soul of Light?" The priestesses considered this possibility—then burst out laughing. "Hey, it's… it's not impossible, is it? I have soul." (3)

"You?" They chuckled, just slightly out of time with each other. "You have the strength to save the Earth?"

"And while I'm asking questions, can you tell me why that stupid statue is sneaking up on me?" Osaka asked, glancing over her shoulder. It was about four feet behind her. "It's starting to freak me out."

"What statue? We're four inches tall," Lefty reminded her.

"We can barely make out your knees," Righty added.

"Oh."

"If it will make you feel better, we can do a test to see if you're the Soul of Light," the priestesses offered, in synch once more "If you promise to return the egg after."

"Sure," Osaka said. "I'm not too good at tests, though. It's not a multiple choice, is-?"

It was just then that she was awakened by 50 kilograms of flying Tomo.

Footnotes:

1) Or, to put it in terms that would give poor Chiyo-chan a migraine, "A spinning silvery saucer-shaped star-ship slashed through space." Ten times fast.

2) Please… please tell me you do not recognize that name. Can you say "hopeless depths of geekdom"?

3) Foolish Shobijin! They should know better than to question a disciple of the very Godfather of Soul!