Last chapter, hurrah!
Again, than you if you have read this far. But don't go anywhere! There's more to come.
And have ya checked my Tumblr account? How is it? Good? Bad? Don't care? Either way, I know I'm not that popular anyway, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on it!
Enjoy!
The hallway stank of rotten flesh and an overwhelming amount of uncouth sweat and dirt. There, within the underground base, the dim lights flickered erratically as the distant sounds of men talked and bickered back and forth between each other, echoing throughout all of the hallway. It was wet and damp, how anyone could spend even a minute in this confounded space was unknown. The squeaks of rats that scurried across the floor, the foreboding hums of vehicles transporting Godforsaken items, the evil and blackness of the hearts of the many humans that waded through the area. Truly, how any sane person could even begin to consider to come to this place was a true mystery.
And yet, despite all of this, the fact couldn't be changed that this was the place most popular and infamous for meddling with forces incomprehensible to humanity.
Teeth, bone, skin, flesh, claws, talons, hearts, organs, eyes, tongues. Passed on with seemingly no care for the creatures that provided such grotesque members of their own body, the many people scurrying around like unclean rats across the damp floor traded and gave away the flesh, samples, experiments and data of the Titans. And, unremoved from these samples- bits of explosion, debris, bullet marks and human blood decorating their casing- the logo of Monarch remained upon the Titan DNA samples haphazardly with no consequence nor caution.
This was all a simple man saw as he walked slowly though the decrepit place he found himself in. Long ago did he drown himself out of the horrid smells, loud noises and disgusting passing of flesh and bones. Holding his nose shut, shaking his head hurriedly, the man quickened his pace through that hallway. And sighing a breathe of relief, the man relaxed his body as he entered the room he was looking for, a small, quiet and cramped room, with the same dimmed, flickering lights and dreary atmosphere surrounding it.
But there was something vastly different within the room he now stood in. A bit deeper into it, shining mesmerising and bright through the darkness, with flashing lights and subtle beeps of an unknown, futuristic technology, stood a metallic and clean table, branded with a strange company logo beside it. From the massive screen laid out onto the table, the machine produced strange, holographic images and data for all to see, examining in detail the massive creatures that walked upon the earth as well as what seemed to be a data sheet of prior, ongoing and possible trade deals. The man didn't understand anything about it, at all. He couldn't really care, actually. All he came here to do was report- report to the dark figure that leant over the table's screen, analysing intently every little thing displayed and produced by it.
"Sir, we have been able to sell the head to Apex," the man, strangely nervously, announced, "All bargaining and deals have been met to the upmost."
Instantly, the dark figure removed his hands from the table, and stood upright and intimidating, confident- borderline arrogant- but with a strange sense of professionalism and age-old experience. Walking closer to the man, the dark figure laid his hands behind his back, his thick, furred coat audible ruffling through his strides ominously as the lights from the table screen illuminated his white hair and elderly wrinkles upon his face. With narrow eyes, and a smile unnerving and venomous, an old man now stood closely in front of the man, causing him to slightly back away reflexively.
"Very good." the old man said, his smile uncomfortably widening as he noticed the man's surprised face. Honestly, for the man, he had expected more… bravado? Sinister tendencies? But the old man's voice was calm and collected, frighteningly casual to some degree- straying inexplicably close to comically. But the man knew to not let his guard down despite this. A calm and collected voice, casual and conversational, would be fine for anyone else. But there was an air of deep routed menace throughout all of the old man's voice, with a threatening glee of disturbing happiness.
"Let's see what that company has in store, shall we?" the old man continued, swiftly turning back to the table and walking back to place himself where he was, already laying his hands back down onto the screen and flicking through the various data and files strewn throughout.
But the man still didn't leave just yet. Gulping down his nervousness, the man spoke up again. "Sir, are you sure it was for the best to sell the Ghidorah head to Apex?" the man softly questioned, doing his best to steady his breathing as the old man remained unmoving, "Wouldn't it have been better for our plans if we had kept the head to ourselves?"
The man's fist clenched tighter as he awaited the old man's response. But, strangely enough- as if expecting the question- the old man remained unmoving and still, keeping his watchful and intent eyes upon the blaring screen. And with a coy smile and his eyes crunched with wicked amusement, the old man lifted his head from the screen and began to chuckle slightly, further finding joy in the younger man's confused expression of the joke he had apparently missed.
"I, myself, am quite curious to what Apex may either achieve or fail in. Our own plans can wait, for now. I want to see what this new, rising star can bring upon the sky." the old man jovially said, "Not to mention, without ensuring a certain trust between us, we wouldn't have been able to play with these new toys of theirs." Quickly, with unsettling enthusiasm, the old man gestured to the table and its displayed contents below him.
"Without the various Titan samples, DNA and information we stole from Monarch," the old man continued, stretching his arms outwards, as if embracing and proud of the decrepit room he stood in, "We wouldn't have been able to control the Black Market as easy as we did. So why not share small pickings of our labour to allies that will surely be useful to us in the future?"
"And you mustn't forget," the old man arrogantly exclaimed, "We are the heart of all of what Apex is trying to achieve. Without us, they wouldn't achieve their goal. Their technology and engineering can only get them so far, but its clear the age-old nature of these creatures we now immerse ourselves in is what their modern devices needs."
The old man gestured towards the table screen pulsating its light and holographic imagery. "And aren't you curious too?" the old man questioned, looking directly into the other man's face, digging his stare deeper as the man began to tense his body further.
"Curious about what, sir?" the man replied quite shakily, knowing it was for the best to play along with the old man's almost joking demeanour.
The old man's smile began to sharpen as his mouth curved wider. "Curious about what their crude imitation of the King of the Monsters will bring about." he whispered, the light from the screen underneath him ominously lighting up the old man's mocking and disturbing expression.
"K-King of the Monsters?" the man stuttered, replacing his nervousness with confusion until the reminder of what else he came to report clicked within his mind, "R-Right, the King! I've also come to tell you about the recent news on Godzilla as well as his partner, that moth thing, sir."
"Oh?" the man inquired, taking his hands of the desk and straightening his back, "Do tell."
"Well, from the intel gathered from our spies within Monarch," the man began, regaining his confidence, "It would seem Titanus Mosura- more commonly known as Mothra- has taken off to leave Godzilla despite spending around half a year with him."
"Is that all?" the old man questioned. But despite his calm voice, the man couldn't help being intimidated by what was clearly the old man's annoyed eyes that stared back to him, "Maybe she got sick of him and decided to go cozy up with some other overgrown lizard!"
The old man began to laugh, a simple laugh clearly belonging to the elderly. But, underlined with it all, the sinister and ominous undertones couldn't be ignored as the man reporting gulped his fear back down, again."N-No sir!" the man ensured, collecting himself hurriedly, "There's just something… strange that Monarch is doing."
At the mention of the organisation, the old man's ears perked up as his mind instantly became serious and intrigued. "Sir, they plan on not keeping a monitor on Mothra." the man continued briskly, "The Titan seems to be going somewhere, from what I have heard, and Monarch plans to keep her destination and her travel a secret."
"You said 'Mothra', yes?" the old man questioned, to which he received a quick nod from the man, "I believe a remember a worm sharing that same name when we went to, I suppose for lack of better term, pick up Dr Russel and her daughter."
With a newfound interest, the old man began to swipe across the screen on the desk, quickly rushing through many files, images and data strewn across the screen, until he abruptly stopped at what he was meaning to find. Swiftly, he pressed upon the selected file, and instantly a holographic, three-dimensional image of the moth Titan spread its wings as it came to life, displaying both her body and the many information surrounding the Titan.
"Tell me more." the old man commanded, being more serious and thoughtful than ever before.
"Well, for the past six months, Mothra has been living with Godzilla." the man began, harkening instantaneously to the old man's request, "And, as you know, the Mothra from a year ago died at the battle of Boston, so it is logical to assume she had laid an egg prior to the battle- as proven by a team in Monarch before the egg was taken by Godzilla- and so this iteration is most likely her child hatched from this egg."
The old man nodded slowly but remained quiet and dark, as if he was unsatisfied with what he was being told. "There are countless studies done by a specific research team within Monarch that document Mothra." the man continued as he got closer to the desk, "And, strangely enough, they mostly centre around the so-called legends of the Titan being akin to a sort of Goddess."
"Goddess?" the old man scoffed and yet still remained vigilant.
Without any hesitation the man placed his finger upon the screen of the desk and whisked through the files and images displayed upon it. After the images flashed hurriedly through the men's eyes, the man quickly stopped at his desired place, and pressed the desk. At once, the screen displayed multiple images of age-old architecture, landscapes, wall-scrawls and ancient text all depicting a moth-like creature- the words that decorated each image being from a language unrecognisable and primordial to modern day humans.
"According to these legends collected and transcribed by Monarch, they depict Mothra having mystical and other-wordly powers, like that of healing wounds in the blink of an eye and being able to speak telepathically to very early human civilisations." the man carried on, pointing at the vast images unveiled to the mercy of the old man, "Because of these legends, it's safe to assume this Mothra is going to some sort of resting place or 'sacred ground' in the form of a temple used to worship her like a Goddess."
The old man leant his body closer to the desk, eyeing each and every picture, text and document on the moth Titan, tightening his eyes, unaware of the light scoff the man beside him gave. "Of course sir, these are nothing but legends. Not even Monarch can prove these ridiculous claims." the man explained, shaking his head in a disbelieved manner.
But the old man remained unmoving and intrigued, slowly craning his head around the screen until his cold eyes stopped dead in their tracks when he noticed something. "And what of this one?" the old man questioned, his seriousness and commanding tone shocking the man greatly.
Under the old man's rigid finger laid out on display a mural upon what seemed to be on an olden temple wall. It was nothing special nor entrancing, for the cracks and deformation of the rocks prohibited the picture on the mural from ever being appreciated as some sort of art form, reduced to nothing but a forgotten ruin. But there was something intriguing to the old man about it- like an otherworldly force drew the old man towards it. The mural contained three dark and strange images in the formation like that of a triangle. Upon the bottom left corner there was what seemed like the image of an egg, laying absent-mindedly and undisturbed. Adjacent to it, on the bottom right, what seemed like the wings of a butterfly spread themselves fully, displaying their intricate patterns. But something was amiss- completely ruining the display- for what seemed like a purposefully smear harshly cracked and slashed through the wings, making them seem almost torn and ragged. And finally, within the centre and displayed higher between both images, laid the full silhouette of a moth, scarily and seemingly echoing the Titan's iconic cry.
Bewildered by the old man's intrigue, but knowing it was best to follow his demands, the man peered over and looked at the image, frantically trying to remember what it had meant, knowing the worse will come should he leave the old man without an answer. "I-I believe that mural depicts what is apparently Mothra's greatest power," the man answered, still in disbelief, "The power of reincarnation. Therefore, immortality."
A spark lit up within the old man's eyes as his body kept still. But the spark wasn't bright and warming at all. No, it was ominous and disturbing. "Immortality…" the old man whispered, his darkened heart beating faster as his collected thoughts all came together in a sick and twisted way.
"Y-Yes sir." the man stuttered, feeling his hair stand on end as the room seemingly got colder, "According to these legends, should they be true, it would mean the Mothra that appeared around six months ago would not only be the same Mothra that appeared in Boston, but the same one depicted in all of these images and ancient texts."
Rolling his shoulders back, a new and unwavering plan sickeningly formed within his head, Alan Jonah- ex marine, infamous environmentalist extremist and murderer of countless, innocent lives- stood tall as he locked eyes with the holographic display of Mothra shining brightly, emphasising the old man's contorted and cryptic expression.
"A creature that posses the power to control life and death itself." he whispered, his deranged smirk growing to its fullest, "This will be very, very interesting."
"S-Sir?" the man called out, his stomach at its limit as it began to twist and contract.
Alan Jonah pointed at the hologram.
"Make her our next target."
Hope you've enjoyed reading as much as I've enjoyed writing!
And look out for the next work within the Eternal Cycle series.
(Most likely) Titled, 'Hardened Heart. Soft Soul.' A story of a fallen friend. The life of Anguirus.
Until we meet again!
-MamoruWriting
