Godzilla: Tactical Assault

by Locutus6

A gritty, mature, and serious take on Godzilla with horror elements. Written in the form of an ongoing television series. The military wages a desperate war to defend humanity against monsters who begin to appear around the globe. (FYI: If you liked 'Godzilla: Minus one', the plot to this story is actually pretty similar.) Latest Chapter: (The Secret of "Them").

14. Chapter 14: Kraken and Leviathan

Chapter 14: Kraken and Leviathan.

Marcus woke to find Shauna kneeling over him, right at the edge of panicking.

"Jesus, you were out for over a minute!" She said frantically. "What happened?"

"I don't know." Marcus replied, his vision was still fuzzy around the edges. His skin felt clammy and his whole body was covered in a cold sweat.

"We need to get you to a hospital to be evaluated." Shauna carefully helped him sit up. "I think you had a seizure and you hit your head pretty hard when you fell too."

"No, we can't tell anyone about this." Marcus replied, coming back to his senses. "They arrested Dr. Jacquier because he was under the influence of Mothra. If they suspect I'm under her sway too, they're likely to never trust me again. At the very least, I'll be shipped back home before you can blink."

"If you are being affected by her like this, would that really be so bad?" Shauna reasoned.

"I think it's for that very reason I need to stay." Marcus countered. "I've had insights I don't think I would have had on my own, things that have helped the cause. It might be a stretch to call Mothra an ally, but she certainly isn't our enemy."

"If you persist this way, you'll be putting your health at risk." She frowned at him.

"I understand where you are coming from, and I care about how you feel, but this is bigger than you or me Shauna. Bad things are coming, and if I ignore what I know, the consequences will be severe." Flashes of Marcus' vision came back to him, giving him a chill. "I couldn't live with myself if I don't try to do something."

"What is coming?" Shauna asked.

"I don't know for sure." Marcus answered. "I can only remember scraps of things from when I was out. But I saw... something. I think it was a warning of some kind. I don't know what is going to happen, but I know it will happen soon." The visions in his head were fading fast, even as he struggled to remember them. He was losing touch with the memory, almost as if his own mind was trying to tell him it was something he was not meant to see.

…

In Russia, Akira bounced up and down in the jeep as he, Major Saito, and Vladimir sped away from the Soviet camp. Behind them, the pair of Rodan's continued to ravage the survivors. Vladimir was driving fast and wild, the paleness of his face told Akira he wanted no part of what was going on behind them. Akira's pulse was pounding like a jack rabbit's on a date. Only one of the three men seemed unaffected, Major Saito. He remained cold and focused. He helped direct Vladimir back towards the location where the float plane was waiting for them along the coast.

Only a few minutes later, they had put in many miles between themselves and the massacre. They came over a grassy hill and spotted their ticket out of there. The seaplane was just ahead, and they were nearly home free, but then disaster struck. A hail of bullets struck the jeep as it was a mir hundred yards away from the plane. Vladimir was hit in the shoulder and nearly lost control of the vehicle. It spun around as he jerked the wheel. He managed to bring it to a stop without flipping over, but the jeep struck a rock at the last second.

Once they were stopped, they spotted the source of the attack. A squad of Soviet soldiers were piling out of a patrol truck. Vladimir tried to put the jeep in reverse, only to discover that the rock had bent the axle several inches inward. They weren't going to get anywhere quick in the jeep anymore, so the three men spilled out of the vehicle and ducked behind it and the rocks for cover.

"The tank commander must have alerted their patrols before the Rodans attacked!" Akira shouted to Saito over the sound of Soviet gunfire.

The three men regrouped and brought their own arms to bare. They were outnumbered, but the Russian soldiers were only using rifles, while they possessed the advantage of machineguns. Major Saito was the first to act. He sprang up and mowed down three Russians trying to work their way around the right flank of the jeep. Vladimir attacked as well but was having a tougher time of it with his wounded shoulder. Even so, he also managed to get a kill on the left flank. Akira collected his courage and brought his weapon up, resting it on the jeep to steady his aim. He peered out, looking for targets in front of him. He found one Russian boldly charging up the middle and made short work of him.

The sudden burst of fire from the three men managed to halt the Soviet's advance on their position. The other Russians soldiers they didn't kill, had all dropped to the ground for cover. They had surprised the Soviets. It was clear that they hadn't been expecting them to be so well-armed, but their advantage of surprise was lost. Now the Russians knew what they were dealing with and would adjust tactics. From then on out, the Soviets learned to respect the amount of firepower that Akira and his companions could put out. They wouldn't come charging in again so recklessly.

Although Akira's group had killed five Russians already, they were still outnumbered. Akira figured there were roughly about ten of them out there yet. The Soviet soldiers, meanwhile, were slowly crawling through the tall grass and repositioning. They were trying to get to the most ideal firing positions while remaining in cover.

The firefight continued for several minutes. Each side popping up and taking shots at the other. Major Saito gunned down three more men, and Akira got one more himself during the fray. The trouble was, they were starting to run out of bullets. The Soviets on the other hand, seemed to be doing just fine on ammo and were slowly gaining the advantage. The tide turned when one of the Russians managed to hit Major Saito in the leg. Akira knew then that things were going against them, and unless something changed, they were going to be captured or killed. Major Saito seemed to recognize that too. For the first time, Akira could see him sweating it out in his head, weighing the options.

Their choices were extremely limited. Surrender wasn't an option. Up until a moment ago, they could have tried to run for it, but with Saito's fresh leg wound, that was off the table too. They were nearly out of ammo, so killing the remaining Russians in the firefight didn't seem likely either. The only thing Saito had left beside his side arm, was two grenades. Two grenades against six spread-out Russians, that was a long shot that he simply couldn't gamble on. The Major finally made a decision and then acted. He took out his side arm, put it into Vladimir's back, and then pulled the trigger, killing him instantly.

Meanwhile, Akira had been continuing to fire at the Russians. He crouched back down after expending the last of his machine gun ammo. He saw what Saito had just done and was bewildered by it. His face demanded an explanation from his commander, but the words didn't come. It wouldn't have mattered. Major Saito pulled the pin on one of his Grenades and threw it a few yards in front of the jeep into a pile of dirt. He grabbed Akira by the shirt and pulled him in close.

"When it goes off, run for the plane!" Saito said sternly to him. Akira nodded and waited.

There was an explosion just a moment later, and Akira bolted away from the Jeep. He was exposing himself to gunfire. He heard the pops of rifles from behind him and felt at least one bullet nearly miss him as it whizzed by. Behind him, Saito stood up with his pistol and gunned down one of the Russians who was shooting at Akira. When their attention was back on him, Saito began to slump back down behind the jeep for cover, but with his injured leg, he wasn't fast enough. He ended up catching a slug in his stomach. It didn't kill him, but it took the fight right out of him. Akira was entirely on his own now getting back to the plane.

One of the Russians could see that there wasn't any more resistance coming from the area around the jeep and took off after Akira. The rest of the soldiers noted that their comrade wasn't being fired upon and moved in on the Gaz. The first of them on the scene found Vladimir dead and Saito's body face down in a pool of blood. It wasn't clear if he was dead or not. The Soviet soldier kept his rifle trained on Saito's body as he approached, ready to fire at the slightest twitch, but Saito remained motionless.

At that point, a Russian Sargent walked up with the remainder of the squad. He instructed the soldier to turn over the body while the rest of the squad covered him. They all closed in with weapons drawn. The soldier noticed Akira was holding something in his hand very close to his face, as if he was trying to protect it. He reached in and grabbed Saito's shoulder to pull him over. As he did, he finally saw what Saito had been grasping onto. It turned out to be the other grenade with the pin already pulled out. Saito's hand opened up when he was turned, and the safety lever was un-clutched, making the explosive active.

Saito was still clinging onto a thread of life, and purposefully held the weapon to his head. The panicked Russian soldier turned to warn his comrades, who had come in even closer to see for themselves what he was looking at, but it was already too late to save them. The grenade went off, and each man was filled with enough shrapnel to seal their fates.

Meanwhile, Akira was almost to the seaplane, but the last Russian soldier was still hot on his heals. The trooper stopped at the top of a hill and took careful aim at Akira. It turned out that he wouldn't be given any time to pull the trigger for the kill shot though. The Japanese soldier that had been left behind with the hurt ankle had heard the firefight erupt from the floatplane and had been lying in wait with a rifle of his own. He put a bullet directly into the last Soviet soldier's forehead. Once he was certain his target was dead, the Japanese soldier slid down from the side of the seaplane and joined Akira as he arrived.

From his position at the top of the plane, the soldier had seen Major Saito's final moments. He informed Akira that there was no point in trying to go back for him. They needed to escape before they were discovered again. Seeing no other choice, Akira agreed, and started up the engines. The floatplane pealed out of the water and left the carnage behind them. In the hours it took them to fly back home, flashes of it all haunted Akira.

…

In the days that followed, the Russians found the remnants of the skirmish. They couldn't identify Saito's body. His face and upper torso had been blown to bits by the grenade. Vladimir's remains, however, had been recovered relatively intact, and they had an extensive file on him. Given the limited evidence they had on hand, it was concluded that the firefight was some type of infiltration operation perpetrated by a White Russian resistant cell. The Russians never connected the incident to the Rodan's attack. From the Japanese Government's perspective, the mission was entirely a success, casualties notwithstanding.

…

Above the Maginot line, Mothra was flying across the French and German border. Between the recent barrage of gunfire from the French forts and the presence of Varan just days ago, the Wehrmacht border guards were still on very high alert. Thus, when Mothra entered German airspace, they immediately detected her and alerted headquarters. The response from German High-Command was not surprising, they immediately scrambled fighters to intercept her.

In less than a half hour, a strong force primarily made up of BF 109 fighters were converging on Mothra from all directions. She could see the aircraft in front of her gathering on the horizon like an angry swarm of hornets. She continued to watch them patiently as they advanced on her, the planes growing larger as they moved in closer. It was evident that the fighters meant to challenge Mothra and prevent her from advancing any further into German territory. However, she couldn't allow them to stop her.

As the 109s drew near, they began to fan out, assuming Mothra would not be able to keep track of all of them if they split up. What the pilots didn't know though, was that Mothra's compound eyes had thirty-thousand individual facets, which meant she could see in a nearly three-hundred-and-sixty-degree arc. She could detect and track every single one of them from the front, sides, and to a lesser portion, her back simultaneously. Mothra's only blind spot was directly behind her. But considering that her normal cruising speed in flight was just slightly faster than the fighter's maximum speed, they'd have a hard time maintaining any attack from the rear for any length of time before she outran them.

Mothra had another major thing working to her advantage, and that was her reflexes. Her perception of the world was drastically different than a human's. Much like a common dragonfly, she was able to process visual information extremely rapidly, being able to react to most things within thirty-milliseconds. Humans on the other hand, could only process visual stimuli at about one-hundred and ninety milliseconds. Thus, she could see and react much faster than the German pilots around her. From Mothra's point of view, the planes looked like they were moving in slow motion.

Despite that, the 109 fighters were closing in on her from all sides, which limited Mothra's options if she wanted to avoid them. As it was, she simply pressed forward and waited for them to make the first move. Two BF 109s were moving in from her right and attempted to make the first attack.

The Japanese had released some information about their experiences fighting against the Rodans to the Germans, but only on the condition that they did not share the knowledge with anyone else, in particular, the Russians. As they were both expanding powers, the Germans saw the Soviets as their political, ideological, and military rivals. So, they were more than happy to uphold their part of the bargain and keep the Russians in the dark.

The German Government quickly decided to pass on the information to the head of the Luftwaffe. Knowing that his pilots were about to face off with another flying Kaiju, he in turn had them briefed just before getting airborne, giving the flight leaders direct access to the reports about the Japanese air attack on the Rodans. Because of that, the German pilots were careful not to approach Mothra from the rear, for fear of being caught up in the same unknown force that had sent so many Japanese pilots out of control when they dared to cross it.

Unfortunately, the intelligence on the Rodans could hardly be applied to Mothra in the same way, and that assumption led to a disastrous start for the Luftwaffe's assault. Approaching Mothra from her flank was in fact the worse possible vector of attack. Striking from behind would have been their safest course. Mothra did not fly nearly as fast as the Rodans. And because of that, she did not leave the same type of destructive wake turbulence trailing behind her as she flew.

As the first two German planes got close to Mothra, they got caught up in the massive gusts of wind she displaced with the flapping of her wings. Both aircraft were sent out of control. One of them recovered, while the other fell into a tailspin that it couldn't pull out of. The pilot managed to bail out. Neither plane had gotten even a single shot off. Mothra ignored both of them and continued onward.

Three more fighters dove in from the other side and met with even worse results. Two of the fighters collided with each other after being confronted by the powerful force of wind. The wreckage of those planes slammed into the third aircraft, just as the pilot had managed to wrestle back control of his fighter. The impact sheared off one of his wings, and he too was forced to bail out.

After that series of disastrous assaults, the flight leaders instructed their planes to halt their attacks and remain on standby. Meanwhile, Mothra just flew on past them. The German planes regrouped and attempted to pursue her, only to discover that she was easily able to outpace their propeller aircraft. Within moments, she left them safely behind her, crossing the first German line of defense in the sky.

The battle was far from over though. Another cluster of German fighters were forming ahead of Mothra. The airmen of the first attack group relayed what they had learned in their assault so their comrades would avoid making the same mistakes. They understood that each fighter would only get one good pass at Mothra before she would outpace them. They also insisted that they needed to avoid the flapping of Mothra's wings at all costs.

Mothra still looked like a "soft target" to them. The pilots were certain if they could just get in a few good shots, they could at least slow her down. The flight leaders in the second clump of planes began to get their squadrons into a narrow string formation ahead of Mothra so they could dive in from above and strafe her exposed back. That way they could avoid her wings altogether.

After just a few moments, the fighters were in position and the first three planes of the formation dove down on Mothra and opened up with their machine guns. Mothra saw the fighters coming but didn't make any effort to evade them. Rather than change course, she allowed them to attack. The 109 fighters hammered down, but there was no visible effect on Mothra. She pressed forward, losing no speed. Evidently, she was entirely unconcerned by their assault. A second and then a third wave of planes all followed suit, getting no better results than the first. Mothra had proven not to be so soft of a target.

This sent the German squadron leaders into a frenzy. They scrambled to come up with another solution while they still could. By that point, Mothra had outpaced the second line of fighters, leaving them to trail behind her and losing more and more ground by the second.

There was one final group of Luftwaffe fighters ahead of Mothra and they were the last thing standing between her and the vastness of German airspace. As before, the pilots from the second group relayed their knowledge to their comrades. The lead pilot of the third squadron decided they needed to attack Mothra's wings, reasoning they had to be the weakest part of her body. His planes lined up as the previous flights had, and then descended on her. Again, Mothra made no effort to avoid them and allowed them to rain down bullets against her wings. To the pilot's shock, they could actually see their tracer rounds ricocheting off as they hit. What nobody saw were any holes or tearing in Mothra's wings as a result of the attack. They had held up strong.

…

Back in Paris, the city was left in relative peace following Mothra's departure. She had beat her wings so softly upon her exit that none of the buildings below her were significantly damaged. On the other hand, the amount of garbage that had been spread in the streets of Paris by wind gusts was nothing short of profound. One would assume by the state of things that the entire city had been host to a wild street party the night before.

Clean up efforts had already begun, but the worker's greatest challenge would be to remove all of Mothra's silk from the Eiffel Tower. The French still had the option to burn it off all at once with their flame throwers, but the speediest solution was hardly the safest. Instead, they elected to gradually cut it down with blow torches. Only after it was all down would they set fire to it.

In the United States Embassy in Paris, Marcus had returned to active duty. By that time, the Japanese had sent a coded message about the radio test being a complete success, proving Marcus' theory. They hadn't mentioned a word about the Rodan's attack on the Russians, but they didn't have to. That news had spread on its own through various sources. Knowledge about the sabotage had been successfully kept within select circles of the Japanese Government. Beyond that, only the surviving members of the team who carried out the mission itself knew about it.

Most were pleased with confirmation of the successful test, but at least one Marine Sargent was underwhelmed by the news. Particularly, in light of what had happened in Russia in the meantime.

"Okay, sure, we can lure them now. But what good does that do us at this point?" Brock asked impatiently. "No offense Marcus, it's a wonderful discovery in all, but the Japanese attacked the Rodans with eight-hundred warplanes in the skies over the Yellow Sea and failed. Then they engaged them at sea with what... a hundred warships... and failed. The Russians fought them on the ground with an entire army and failed. For those of you keeping track, that's three massive defeats on land, sea, and air. There isn't a fourth option at this time. What good is it to lure the Rodans into a trap if we don't possess a weapon that is capable of fighting them? They do not seem to have any clear weakness to exploit."

No one had a good answer for Brock. His point hit home and drained the energy from the entire room. The only thing anyone could hang their hats on was the fact that the Rodans were still strictly a Russian problem at that point. They could only hope by the time they became someone else's burden that a solution would present itself.

It was at that moment, while everyone was considering the question, that Lieutenant-Commander Williams asked to talk to Marcus alone for a moment. Marcus agreed but was nervous. Williams had never gone out of his way to speak to him before. Williams always gave off an air of snootiness around Marcus. Such as it was, he felt like he was about to get a dressing-down for his reckless behavior in the Maginot Forts. Instead, there was a certain amount of humility in the Commander's voice when he spoke.

"I wanted to personally thank you for what you did back there in the heat of battle, sailor." Williams began. "I don't think any of us would have made it out of there if it wasn't for your quick thinking."

"Sir…? I… Umm… thank you sir." Marcus blurted out clumsily, having been taken off guard. "I mean, you're welcome, sir." Williams seemed pleased that Marcus was so discombobulated in his response. He smiled for the first time in Marcus' presence.

"I have two children." Williams went on, trying to get past the awkwardness. "When we were in the thick of it, all I could think is that I was never going to see them again." He paused. "I guess what I'm trying to say is… I see what the Admiral likes about you. If you didn't know it, he speaks very highly of you." With that, Williams saluted and then retreated out of the room. He had said what he wanted to say, and that was that, as far as he was concerned.

Marcus saluted and tried to think of something clever to say in return to Williams, but the whole thing had caught him so off guard that he just stood there like an idiot while Williams walked away.

…

In Russia, things were going from bad to worse for the Soviets. The attacks by the Rodans had not stopped at the military staging grounds. After they were done with the camp, the monsters flew further east and attacked the train stations at the most eastern portion of the Trans-Siberian Railroad. They were likely drawn there by radio signals. The Russians were still frightfully unaware that their transmissions would bring the flying monsters down on them. A few local villages also fell victim to the Rodans as their rampage continued through the surrounding countryside.

A day later, the Russians attempted to drive off the Rodans with a massive, improvised air assault. They were hoping to pull off something similar to what the Japanese had achieved, but the Soviets had a few factors working against them. First, they didn't realize the amount of planes the Japanese had lost in that fight. The Japanese hadn't released their casualty information to anyone outside of the Japanese Government for obvious national security reasons. The Russians were only aware that the Japanese had won from a strategic standpoint, while losing on the tactical level.

The Russians committed four-hundred Yak-1 fighter planes to the operation, but quickly realized that the whole thing was a tactical blunder. The assault was not as well-coordinated as it could have been, which led to individual squadrons entering the combat zone alone without the support of other air-groups. The first wave was wiped out before the second one even arrived. It was a pattern that was repeated with the second. At that point, the Russian commanders at ground control directed the remaining aircraft to rendezvous in a nearby sector to regroup before proceeding on together.

Again, the Russians were greatly hindered due to their lack of essential intelligence information. The Rodans were alerted by the massive hub of radio chatter and were drawn towards the Soviet squadrons as they were still in the midst of reorganizing. The supersonic monsters tore into the ranks of the Russian planes and downed dozens of them before the pilots even knew what was happening. When it was all over, less than a hundred fighters made it back to Soviet airbases.

The staggering loss of men and material in the East was climbing higher each day. In fact, it was so devastating that it was starting to affect Stalin's war effort in the West. The Rodan's ongoing attacks had forced him to divert soldiers and war materials that were meant for the campaign in Finland. The truth was, these reinforcements were inexperienced and ill-prepared. Stalin knew they stood little chance against the monsters, but even if his men couldn't stop them, he had to at least be seen making an effort to defend his people. It would be politically dangerous for him to do anything otherwise.

The Rodans attacked at will, leveling town after town in Eastern Russia. After three solid days of terror, the Soviets were finally able to concentrate enough firepower to make a reasonable stand against the monsters. Tanks and rocket trucks caught up to the Rodans at a town called Revatograd, which was actively under siege by the monsters.

The Soviets had finally caught the Rodans on the ground, but it turned out to be a double-edged sword. They had to make the tough choice to attack the monsters while Russian civilians were still present, as the surviving townspeople of Revatograd were trapped. The Rodans would pick off any person who tried to break cover and run out into the open to escape. The civilians had the unenviable choice between being potentially killed by the shelling of their own military if they remained within the boundaries of the town, or the nearly certain death of being eaten alive trying to make a run for it.

The Russian generals in command of the assault at least didn't make them wait long to decide. The officers quickly determined they needed to attack while they still held the advantage of surprise. They reasoned that the civilians who would be killed in the battle would prefer to die with some dignity by their hands rather than be consumed by the Rodans.

The order was given, and Katyusha rocket trucks moved forward and unleashed all of their fury into the sky. Their projectiles arced up, leaving long and thick trails of smoke behind them. Soon, they began to rain back down onto the Rodans and Revatograd alike. The buildings that were hit by the rockets got blown into pieces. Almost no structure was left unscathed by the assault. The Soviet tanks rolled up and added to the barrage, which only intensified the carnage within the city.

The Rodans were less affected by the bombardment than the town and quickly took to the sky to close the gap between themselves and their attackers. Upon reaching the line of Soviet vehicles, the Russians were once again decimated by the fury of the combined strength of the Rodans. When it was all over, hardly a man or machine was left standing.

Though the battle had been yet another resounding defeat for the Soviets on a tactical level, there was, however, a silver lining to it. The fight seemed to at least wear out the monsters. After the Rodans were satisfied that the Russian assault had been thoroughly crushed, they returned to the sky and then began to retreat back East towards their nesting grounds in the Kamchatka peninsula.

Over the course of four days, the Russians had lost the majority of three armored divisions fighting the Rodans, which equated to nearly a thousand fighting vehicles of various designs and twenty-five thousand men dead or injured. While the Soviets had plenty of manpower to call upon to replace their losses, they were not an economic powerhouse. It would cost them about fifty-four million dollars to replace their armor losses alone. The loss of over three hundred warplanes was roughly another fifty-six million dollars stacked on top of an already horrifically costly campaign. Worse still, the price would likely climb even higher before it was over, because the Rodans remained in Russian territory.

On the Finish front, Soviet casualties were also mounting rapidly. Their losses had reached one-hundred thousand soldiers killed in action and an additional two-hundred thousand wounded. They had also lost over a thousand tanks. Every day, the Finish position was improving. They were receiving more and more international aid in the form of equipment and volunteers.

The British Empire were in open talks with the Fins about selling them heavier weapons, which they very much needed to push back the Soviets. The British wished to maintain the status-quo in Europe, and the escalating war was becoming more and more disruptive. The Russians were one of the few powers who could possibly be seen as a potential rival to the British Empire, so blocking them from gaining more political strength was in their best interest.

While he would never admit it openly, Stalin was humbled and embarrassed. The Russians had lost thousands of men and expended two-hundred and thirty-five million dollars for no practical gains in their fight with the Fins and Rodans. Worse, neither fight had an end in sight. The Russians lacked an effective way to combat the Rodans and the Winter War was only growing more difficult as it persisted.

Russia was politically isolated. As the lone communist power in Europe, they couldn't get outside support either militarily or economically. The very idea of socialism was seen as a threat by monarchies, democracies, and especially by fascist dictators. The Russians had no powerful friends to call upon for aid. In fact, most of the other forms of government from around the world would be more than happy to sit back and watch while their new political system died in its infancy.

Russia had been caught up in a perpetual state of war since the beginning of The Great War. The February, and then later October Revolutions, had begun before that conflict had even properly concluded. And then the Russian Civil War quickly followed the Revolution. During the devastating civil war, Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, and Poland were all able to fight their way to independence from Mother Russia, weakening her power and prestige. Many other conflicts followed in turn, each one seeming to spawn another. For over twenty years, fighting persisted.

The near constant state of warfare, and general unrest in the country, meant that Russia had failed to keep pace with its competitors in terms of industrialization and modernization over the decades. Both of those things were essential in maintaining costly military endeavors. The Russian economy simply was not capable of keeping pace with the hemorrhaging of rubles that both current conflicts were causing. Stalin knew if he persisted with pursuing hostilities with both Finland and the Rodans, his country's economy would eventually crumble under the pressure.

Since Stalin couldn't very well negotiate with the Rodans, he begrudgingly requested peace talks with Finland. In Stalin's mind, it was just a temporary setback. He calculated that the Rodans would eventually move out of Russian territory. Either on their own accord, or after his generals had devised a way to compel the monsters to leave. Afterwards, he could resume his invasion of Finland and concentrate all his available resources on crushing them.

…

In North Africa, Kamerus had been raiding down the Libyan coast for a couple of days. His path of destruction seemed to be leading him eastward towards Egypt. The monster's pattern was to hit a settlement, almost at random, level every building in sight, and then retreat back into the water. Not a whole lot of rhyme or reason to it. Kamerus simply struck a handful of settlements here and there, while entirely bypassing others.

While Kamerus' goal wasn't very clear, he did seem to be on course for Egypt, and that got the attention of the British. Egypt was an official protectorate of the British Empire. The Anglo-Egyptian treaty of 1936 granted the British the right to station troops in Egypt for the defense of the Suez Canal.

The Suez Canal was a vital link to the British holdings in India and was an essential strategic trade route for the entire world. It provided a more direct route between the North Atlantic and Northern Indian oceans via the Mediterranean and Red seas. The waterway reduced the journey distance from the Arabian Sea to London by five-thousand and five-hundred miles. Access to it meant saving a great deal of time, money, and fuel. If it were to be compromised, all shipping would have to sail entirely around the continent of Africa.

It was unclear if the monster was heading to the canal, or if it was even capable of doing significant damage to it, if it was. However, since the Suez was such an invaluable resource for the British, their Prime Minister felt they had to take every precaution in protecting it. The British would also face a disaster politically if they didn't make a move to safeguard Egypt. They would be hard pressed to justify Egypt's protectorate status otherwise.

The Egyptian Army was pretty limited in what it could do to defend itself, as it was primarily made up of infantrymen. They had some outdated artillery as well, but nothing particularly formidable. Such as it was, the British mobilized and landed more troops on Egyptian soil. They also moved in elements of the British fleet to defend the coast. If Kamerus appeared in Egyptian waters, they were ready for a showdown.

…

In the port of Taranto, the Italian fleet was preparing to deal with Kamerus in their own way. They couldn't allow the destruction of their warships, or the raiding of Libya's coast to go unanswered. The Italian dictator, Benito Mussolini, was a man of great ambition, and his goal was to recreate the glory of the Roman Empire and dominate the Mediterranean. But that dream could not be realized with a giant monster standing in the way.

Mussolini ordered the recall of all available warships in the Regia Marina to resupply and refit before going back out to hunt for the monster. In particular, several ships were being loaded with the newly developed Neptune depth charges to give them an edge if the monster tried to hide from them below the waves. The only catch was there was a limited number of them. Still, the Italians had enough to be able to effectively utilize the depth charges, should the situation call for it.

Several cruisers and a few larger destroyers had already been outfitted with Neptunes, while a select few others were still being loaded. In an ideal situation, every destroyer and cruiser in the fleet would be carrying the powerful depth charges, but the fact of the matter was they simply had not manufactured enough of them to do so yet. And not every ship was capable of carrying them either. Many ships would require major refits to allow for that.

Night was falling, and the loading process was still ongoing. By the next morning, all the necessary preparations would be made, and the fleet could depart for its mission. Most of the sailors were already asleep, but an Italian Captain by the name of Francesco Garibaldi was walking along the docks with his first Officer Giovanni. The two men couldn't sleep. Knowing what they would be up against in the coming days made them feel restless. There was a sense of fear, but also excitement. They had grown up with fantastic tales of sea monsters from books like the Odyssey, and now they were to face a real one of their own. To say they never expected to live to see that day would be an understatement.

Captain Garibaldi was overlooking the fleet, watching the preparations being completed. The impressive battleships lay at anchor on the stark black waters of the night. The moon was full, and it provided just enough light for them to get a good look at the gathered fleet. Most of the Regia Marina's battleships were present, including the Littorio, Garibaldi's own ship.

It was Garibaldi's love for warships that brought him into the naval service. That, and he had a long family lineage of military service. Italy had been a hotbed for conflict for roughly fifty years. The recent reunification wars had forged the various Italian states into one unified nation. A member of Garibaldi's family had been involved in each conflict in one way or another. Thus, battle was in his blood.

Garibaldi was feeling quite agitated as he walked the docks. He had known all three captains of the ships that were recently lost. Two out of the three of them had been in his very own class at the naval academy. He had not taken their deaths lightly. But he was hardly alone in that. The entire fleet was in an uproar about the incident and looking for revenge.

"Captain." Commander Giovanni pulled at Garibaldi's sleeve. "What is that…?" The junior officer called his attention to a light just outside of the harbor. The light was a pale blue color and emanating from under the water.

"Huh, I don't know." Garibaldi replied perplexed. "Never seen anything like that before." The two officers quickened their pace to get a better look. One of the harbor's patrol craft had noticed the strange light as well and was motoring over to investigate.

The patrol boat came to the location where the light was emanating from and stopped. The crew looked overboard to see if they could see the source below. As it turned out, the source didn't give them a chance to find out. Something struck out and hit the bottom of the boat. The vessel rose from the water slightly as it was impacted from below. Whatever it was, it attached to the ship's keel and then quickly dragged the whole thing under.

Captain Garibaldi and Commander Giovanni watched as the ship vanished under the waves without a trace. The only thing that remained was the ripple of water that spread out from the boat's last position, portions of it cascading into the inner harbor. It was then that the light under the water flickered. Whatever was producing it started moving further into the marina.

If it was a submarine, there were nets in place at the mouth of the harbor that would deny it entry. As the mass of light reached the location of the submarine defenses, it slowed ever so slightly, but did not stop. It powered its way through and began to surface as it entered the shallower waters of the port.

At that point, Captain Garibaldi finally got a look at it. A colossal creature breached to the surface, and he could see that the light was being produced by the beast itself. To him, it looked like a giant blue squid. Its body was bio-luminous. The monster's other notable feature was its piercing blood-red eyes. The titanic cephalopod was squid-like in many respects, but with one striking difference. The creature appeared to be using most of its tentacled arms like legs and was walking upright through the shallow waters of the harbor. As it got closer, Garibaldi could see submarine nets hanging off of its head. The monster had ripped right through them.

The nets fell off as the creature continued to move forward. When the monster reached the outskirts of the inner harbor, its body stopped glowing. It didn't seem to want to call attention to itself any longer as it got closer to the cluster of warships. The initial shock of it wore off, and Captain Garibaldi suddenly started to recognize the danger to the fleet sitting at anchor. He and commander Giovanni ran for an idle motorboat that could bring them to their ship to warn everyone.

As they reached the boat, they could hear the general alarm sounding throughout the naval base. The whole harbor was starting to stir, and sailors began to rush into their battle stations. However, the monster had already reached the sister cruisers Gorizia, Zara, and Fiume before any of their crews were able to ready their weapons.

Captain Garibaldi continued to watch the situation unfold while Giovanni drove the motorboat out towards the Littorio. The first thing the monster did was tear Fiume's A-turret off, utilizing the strength and suction of one of its tentacled limbs. Then the creature smashed the chunk of metal back down onto the powerful Neptune depth charges that were stored in the aft section of the ship.

The depth charges ignited in an intense explosion that lit up the night sky. The stern portion of Fiume was blown clean off, and the warship began to sink. Garibaldi noted that the monster had been careful to shield its flesh from the fire. It occurred to him that the beast could have simply used its arms to smash against the explosives directly, but instead, it took the extra time to rip off a part of the ship first. That indicated that the monster understood the depth charges were explosives prior to attacking, and what's more, that the creature's spongy flesh might be vulnerable to it.

Captain Garibaldi continued to observe as the motorboat got closer to his waiting battleship. The Cruiser Zara was destroyed in the meantime in a similar fashion as the Fiume had been. Again, the creature went after the Neptune depth charges, which annihilated the ship carrying them. Garibaldi was surprised by the creature's apparent intelligence. It was essentially an animal that understood the danger of high-explosives. On top of that, it somehow knew before even encountering them for itself firsthand. This troubled him deeply.

Commander Giovanni finally brought their tiny motorboat alongside the massive battleship Littorio, and the two men began to climb up the rope netting that hung over the side of the warship to get to the main deck. A third explosion from behind, told them that the creature had succeeded in destroying the Gorizia as well.

After a taxing climb, Captain Garibaldi wasted no time getting up to the bridge of the Littorio, where his crew were already in the midst of making the warship ready for battle. The whole crew had been roused and were in position. The third officer had just given the order to load the cannons. Below, the gun crews were scrambling to heave heavy fifteen-inch shells. Garibaldi briefly commended him on doing just the right thing before reassuming command.

Meanwhile, the monster had made its way to the Battleship Caio Duilio. It was a battleship that was older, smaller, and less powerful in comparison to Littorio, but still a potent warship in her own right. Unfortunately, the Caio Duilio's sailors weren't ready for the fight that had come to them. The ships guns had not been loaded or even rotated yet, and the monster was already right on top of them.

The gun crews on Littorio signaled their readiness to Captain Garibaldi and he was delighted to hear it. If they acted quickly enough, they might be able to help the crew of the Caio Duilio. All of the Littorio's fifteen-inch cannons, nine of them altogether, were leveled at the monster, who had just taken hold of the Caio Duilio. Garibaldi gave the order to fire, and his crew obeyed.

To the shock of everyone, the monster seemed to sense the attack coming, and pulled the Caio Duilio in front of it, raising the warship partially out of the water. Most of Littorio's shots were on target, but they slammed into Duilio's exposed hull as the monster hid behind it. Several of the fifteen-inch shells punctured the Duilio's hull under the waterline, thereby avoiding her protective armor-belt. The shells began detonating inside of the Caio Duilio, and one of them must have found its way into the battleship's main magazine, because the battlewagon exploded violently, disintegrating in the monster's arms.

The creature was blown backwards into the water from the force of the blast. What was left of the Caio Duilio sank into the bay. The monster quickly recovered. It did not appear to be injured in the explosion and it continued on its warpath towards the next battleship in line, the Giulio Cesare. The Cesare was just about ready for the creature. Her main guns were loaded and rotating into firing position. The monster sensed the danger and used its long arms to grab onto the bottom of Cesare and pulled at the keel of the warship, tilting it until the starboard deck was pointing forty-five degrees upwards into the air.

The main guns of the Giulio Cesare fired, but because of the angle of the ship, the shells shot up harmlessly into the night sky. With its first attack spent, the Cesare was practically helpless. Captain Garibaldi could do nothing but watch. His own men were still reloading, fighting the clock to get the Littorio's main cannons back into the fight. The Littorio's smaller secondary guns, however, were ready. They opened up in a hail of fire at the monster.

The smaller caliber of firepower did seem to bother the monster but did not stop it. The creature retaliated by jamming the Giulio Cesare bow-first into the nearby docks. The bottom portion of the hull was torn out, which ensured the battleship would never sail on the ocean again. Satisfied with the damage it had done, the monster left the Giulio Cesare resting half on the shore, and half on the water.

The only remaining Neptune depth charges were sitting on nearby destroyers, and the monster snatched them off the warships using his tentacles. One by one, he began to lob the explosives at the remaining four Italian battleships. The first couple came at the Littorio, and each of them were near misses. The force of the charges hitting the water was enough to set them off, and the top deck of the Littorio was awash with water that rained down from the resulting explosions.

The second volley came at the Littorio's sistership, the Vittorio Veneto. One of the charges ended up exploding near the base of her waterline. The blast tore open a hull breach, allowing a great deal of seawater to pour in. The damage wasn't very extensive though, and Veneto's damage control teams were able to seal off and contain the flooded sections, saving the ship.

The Battleship Andrea Doria faced a similar situation when it was hit, though she was a smaller battleship, and her hull damage was more extensive as the depth charge landed even closer. Still, the Andrea Doria was salvageable. The last battleship in the line, the Conte di Cavour, wasn't so lucky, however. The monster's aim seemed to be getting better with each try, and the final throws were right on target. Conte di Cavour was hit with three massive explosions. One Neptune depth charge hit the bridge and destroyed much of the ship's superstructure. The second one hit just below the armor belt and tore open the bottom of the ship. The third destroyed the rudder. Cavour began to sink, and her surviving crewmen spilled over the side as she went down.

The situation seemed desperate for the Italian fleet, six warships had been destroyed and two more heavily damaged. But there was about to be a turn in fortunes. The monster had expended all the available explosives near to him, and he was now loitering in the shallows with no cover to escape into. The Littorio's main guns were ready to fire again, as were the Vittorio's. Both ships unloaded their main armaments at the monster, who was near helpless against their firepower. The creature dodged as best he could, but he was hopelessly exposed. In addition to the battleships firing at it, the Cruisers Trento, Bolzano, and Trieste were also firing at him from the next bay over. He was caught in a crossfire.

Captain Garibaldi saw one of his ship's fifteen-inch rounds impact directly against the monster's bulbous head. The monster's entire body shuttered from the detonation and the resulting explosion tore out a large hunk of its flesh. The monster was taking more and more significant hits as additional warships joined the attack. Finally, the creature decided that it had enough, and began to retreat into deeper water. As it did, fire from the remaining warships punished its body, blowing more and more pieces off of him. Bloodied and beaten, he finally slipped beneath the waves and escaped the onslaught of fire.

…

In Germany, Mothra had long put the fighter planes of the Luftwaffe behind her and was continuing further into the Third Reich's airspace. Air defense flak cannons had tried to take aim at her occasionally along the way, but whenever they did, Mothra simply sped up. The guns on the ground could not keep trained on her for very long before she was out of their range. They were designed to shoot down slow propeller aircraft. Nothing they could throw at Mothra deterred her.

Mothra had been flying for over an hour when her excellent vision finally picked up on what she was looking for. Below, there was a trail of disturbed fields and snapped trees. As soon as she spotted the trail, Mothra changed course and began to follow it. She flew for miles until she was on the outskirts of a city. There were signs of a battle below. The ground was pot-marked with the aftermath of explosions and the wreckage of fighting vehicles.

As it turned out, the city Mothra had arrived at was none other than the German capitol of Berlin. The wreckage she had passed was the Wehrmacht's last-ditch effort to prevent Varan's advance into the city. They had clearly failed, and the monster was already cutting a path of destruction through the cityscape.

Mothra arrived approximately twenty minutes after the attack had begun. Most of Berlin was still intact and the German military was still fighting Varan inside the city. The Wehrmacht had Varan more-or-less boxed into one area. German High-Command had the foresight to place heavy cannons at certain intersections in the city, so that Varan would have to endure considerable firepower to his face if he wanted to get pass them. The blockade of artillery had stopped Varan from advancing any further forward but had also forced him towards the Reichstag building in an attempt to get around them.

As Varan advanced towards Germany's seat of government, Mothra passed directly above him. She dipped down low and zoomed over his right shoulder to get his attention. As her shadow loomed over him, Varan stopped dead in his tracks and took notice. Mothra's sudden appearance had caught him off guard. All he could do is watch her from below.

Mothra meanwhile banked gracefully to her left after passing Varan. Then she rounded on him, coming face to face with Varan from the safety of several hundred feet up. As Mothra hovered above, her mouth opened and squeaked down to him. Varan responded by roaring back up at her angrily. He used his tail to smash apart a building to his left in an obvious threat display.

Mothra seemed unimpressed with the action and continued to chirp down at him. Varan responded by thrashing his tail a second time and leveling the building to his right. Whatever Mothra's initial aim had been, she appeared to grow impatient and immediately attacked Varan. She began to flap her wings hard and released her yellowish-gold powder. As it floated down towards Varan, he instantly knew he wanted no part of it. He retreated backwards and then ducked behind a building, getting out of the immediate line of fire. Mothra ceased using her powder and advanced to pursue Varan. When she approached the building Varan was hiding behind, he suddenly lunged up at her.

Varan didn't achieve sufficient enough height to tackle Mothra head on, but he got close enough to allow the spines on his back to graze one of her wings. Following his attack, Varan crashed back down to the ground, collapsing another building under him. Once Varan recovered, he looked up to see the damage he had inflicted. To his shock, Mothra was still airborne and stable. Varan had expected his attack would cleave her left wing right off and that he'd be seeing her tumbling to the ground. Instead, Mothra was right above him and he noted only a scratch where his spikes had made contact.

Panicked by the ineffectiveness of his attack, and Mothra's close proximity, Varan used his tail to swipe up at her in an effort to gain a little distance. Mothra backed off to avoid the attack, but Varan's tail never had much of a chance of landing a blow anyway. Meanwhile, Varan used the time his feint had bought him to come up with a new method of attack. He quickly secreted some of his poison and let a portion of it build up on the tip of his tail. Once Varan felt like he had enough, he flicked it in Mothra's direction, sending the toxic stew flying up at her. Varan had gotten lucky, and the glob was heading right for her face.

Unfortunately for Varan, Mothra saw the attack coming and used her quick reflexes to maneuver out of the way. The clump of goo arced up past her and then landed somewhere in the city behind Mothra. Varan tried to follow up by using a building as a springboard to crash into Mothra. If he could just touch her, he could turn the fight around.

Seeming to understand the threat, Mothra used her powerful wings to beat down at Varan as he came up. The force of wind that Mothra produced sent Varan crashing back down and rolling through the streets. Mothra then pressed in close and continued to beat her wings aggressively. Varan dug in his claws to maintain his position, but the hurricane-level winds Mothra was producing was blowing anything not made of concrete away. Cars went flying into buildings, park benches took flight, and Varan's defensive toxin peeled right off of his skin. Most of it splattered onto the building behind him.

With Varan's slime gone, Mothra eased up on her attack. The hard flapping took a lot of energy, and she could see Varan still had a lot of fight in him. In fact, the second the wind died down, Varan charged forward and lunged onto a building close to Mothra. He swatted at her with his sharp front claws. Mothra was again able to react just in time to avoid the attack, and in turn, beat Varan with her gigantic wings.

The structure Varan had jumped onto could barely hold his weight to begin with, but the added pressure of the battle taking place was finally too much. The building buckled and sent Varan once again to the ground. Varan seemed to understand how precarious his situation was becoming. Mothra was able to react to his attacks much faster than he had been expecting. She seemed to have and answer for everything he had thrown at her so far. He had one last trick that might turn the tide of battle in his favor though. Varan found a suitable spot for what he had in mind, and then ducked down behind another building, waiting for Mothra to approach. Once she had, Varan sprung his trap.

He jumped onto another building to gain a little height and then jumped a second time, extending the flaps between his arms and legs. As Varan became airborne, he tried to steer himself towards Mothra, only to find that she was already coming towards him. Mothra had a much greater ability to control her flight and was able to dart out of Varan's flight path and then maneuver under him in mid-air. Mothra used her head and rammed into Varan's expose underbelly, knocking the wind out of him. The force of the collision knocked Varan off course and out of the sky like a stone.

Varan landed hard on his back, stunned. Mothra gave him no chance to recover this time. She was on top of her opponent within seconds. Her poisonous powder drifted down on Varan's body. He realized what was happening and began to kick his legs in an attempt to flip himself back over. However, Varan's spines were stuck in the ground where he had landed and prevented him from easily righting himself.

Trapped and having nowhere to go, the powder clung onto Varan. Within seconds, his thrashing began to weaken, then stopped altogether. Varan was paralyzed by Mothra's poison. The fight was effectively over. With her opponent subdued, Mothra came down and latched onto Varan's tail. In an impressive feat of strength, her tiny little legs clung on to Varan's body as she lifted him off the ground and began to transport him out of Berlin.

Mothra continued to carry Varan north for hours until she had come to the Atlantic Ocean. Once there, she dropped the still unconscious Varan in the water below. Just like that, his rampage through Germany was over.

…

Akira lay in his cot staring up at the bunk above him. He had just arrived back on the Akagi following his mission to Russia. While the mission had been a success, he did not feel good about it. The memories of what had transpired would likely haunt him for the rest of his life. Vladimir had been killed. Saito had been killed. He had almost been killed himself. And for what? It all seemed unnecessary.

The way Akira saw it, the Russians never had the slightest chance of winning against the Rodans. So in his mind, they didn't need to help it along. The reports coming out of Russia painted a pretty negative picture of what was happening as a result. Villages were burning, and thousands upon thousands dead. Deaths Akira was at least in part responsible for. The worst thing about it for Akira was that he wasn't allowed to talk about it. He had no outlet to vent the pressure, anger, and guilt that was building up in his chest. He could only sit in his bunk and stew about it. Replaying the mission over and over again in his mind, fixated on it.

The reconstituted Japanese fleet had set back out to open water for training exercises. While they had taken a beating during their own fight against the Rodans, the IJN arguably still had the strongest navy in the pacific. However, that was only because the American fleet was divided up between two oceans, otherwise they could claim that honor. Such as it was, the Japanese needed to maintain a state of readiness.

The fleet had been out for two days already. On the first day, the fleet had run across something very troubling. Something that could not easily be explained. They had found a Japanese coastguard cutter drifting in the open water. Typically, a ship of its size carried a crew of twelve, but only one man was found aboard, and he was in sorry shape. The sailor was dead, but on top of that, he appeared to be mutilated. His flesh was partially fused to the metal railing he was found clinging onto. The rest of the crew was missing.

The ship seemed largely undamaged, so it wasn't clear why the rest of the crew would choose to abandon ship. Just as puzzling was the mystery of what killed the man left behind. He smelled as if he had been cooked right there on the deck. The victim's hand and face were blackened and burnt where they had made contact with the steel. He was so badly burnt, that he almost had no features left. Oddly, the area around him showed no obvious sign of damage from a fire.

The dead seamen's body was pried off of the railing, leaving chunks of flesh behind. Later, he was buried at sea. The incident sent a chill through the sailors of the entire fleet as the eerie story spread around. Everybody was a little edgy after that. Most of the men had already seen death by that point, but it was the mystery, the fear of not knowing what happened, which made it so hard for everyone to dismiss and move on.

One of Akira's bunkmates, Takeo, returned from playing cards with his buddies. Akira didn't know Takeo very well, and mostly ignored him. But even so, Akira could sense the young sailor was unsettled. He removed his shoes and socks and prepared to climb up into his bunk to rest for a while. However, before he could, there was a shuttered throughout the ship. It was enough to get Akira's attention. He sat up and looked over to Takeo, who seemed alarmed. Takeo looked around the room, clearly not sure what was going on. Next, they heard the metal hull of the ship creaking. Takeo took a step back, and Akira noted a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. Both of them knew something was awfully wrong.

"What is that…?" Takeo whispered to Akira with fear in his voice.

Akira didn't get a chance to answer. Before he knew it, Takeo's hair was standing on end, and only a second later, his muscles were seizing up, flexing uncontrollably. His spasms were intense, and Takeo tried to scream, but only managed to make a gurgling sound. Akira could see an arc of electricity jump from the top part of Takeo's teeth to the bottom. Takeo's feet were cooking against the metal plating on the floor, and Akira could smell burnt flesh, which made his stomach turn as he watched.

It was all over in seconds. Takeo fell to the floor, already dead. Akira sat there in shock, processing it. He didn't know what to do. He was shoeless himself and didn't dare stand up on the metal floor after what he had just seen. He didn't understand what was happening. Before he knew it, the entire ship shook and was tilted off kilter. Akira almost spilled out of his bunk onto the floor. After that, he knew he couldn't very-well stay where he was. His shoes were under his bunk. Rather than step onto the floor to get the footwear, he hung himself upside-down to retrieve them.

Akira grabbed two pairs of socks and put both of them on, just to further insulate himself, before lacing up his boots tightly. The noise, rumblings, and rocking throughout the ship continued in the meantime. Akira carefully put one of his boots on the floor. Once it had been there for a few seconds without incident, he began to make his way out of the bunkroom and into the hallway.

Once there, Akira could hear the confused shouting of men throughout the corridor. The alarm on the bridge had been triggered as well, adding to the already chaotic situation. As Akira made his way out of the crew quarter's section of the ship, he saw other men who had been killed much like Takeo had been. Other sailors were uselessly trying to help them, but any man who had been affected was far beyond help by that point.

The shipped rocked as Akira continued on, and he was careful not to be thrown off balance. If he was forced to reach out with his bare hands and touch either side of the metal walls of the corridor at the wrong moment, it might just be the last thing he ever did. Akira was right to be skittish, only a moment later, another jolt of electricity shot throughout the whole ship, and a few more sailors who had not figured out what Akira had caught onto were exposed to it. The smell of burning flesh was filling up the entire area, along with the horrific shrieks of men who were seeing the effects play out firsthand. Akira himself was trying his best to ignore it. He needed to stay focused if he was going to get out alive.

Finally, Akira reached the hanger deck. Most of the men there were still alive, but confused about what was going on. The ship continued to rock, which kept everyone off balance. Worse, the rocking had only increased in intensity, which was causing planes and bombs to move around in their bays, putting all the men at risk.

The shifting paused for a moment, and Akira could finally get his bearings again. But no sooner had the ship come to a stop, than something came crashing through the hull, puncturing right into the hanger deck. And it wasn't just one thing, there were multiple areas of breaches throughout the steel frame all at once in what seemed like a well-coordinated assault. The shock of it took Akira off guard, but it only took him a moment to realize what happened. The things poking through the breaches appeared to be sharp mounds of discolored ivory. Taken as a whole, the pattern was unmistakable. Something huge had bitten into the ship and its teeth had penetrated the armored plating of the hull.

That realization was horrible enough on its own, but it was about to get even worse. Some of the teeth had sunk in under the waterline of the carrier, and because of that, seawater began to leak in around the edges. Akira had a moment of awful clarity and could see what was going to happen next. His legs started moving on instinct, taking him to a stairwell across the deck that would take him up. Sure enough, the teeth soon retracted out of the ship and huge gushes of water rapidly poured in through the punctures. Seawater flooded in so quickly that several men closest to the swell were instantly swept up. The rest of the sailors tried to retreat to escape as Akira had.

Meanwhile, Akira had just reached the stairwell himself. He got up about six steps before the first cascade of water reached the bottom. Several members of the flight crew reached the stairs a moment later but were already too late. A third shockwave of electricity hit the ship, and they were still standing in ankle-high water when it surged through them.

Akira ran into a major problem upon reaching the top of the stairwell. As per regulations, the watertight steel bulkhead door had been sealed when the alarm had gone off for general quarters. Of course, Akira could easily open it, as the latch was on his side of the door, but he'd have to do so with his bare hands. If there happened to be another electrical attack while he was doing it, he'd be a goner. As he stood there thinking it over, Akira could hear the buckling of the ship's hull. Water continued to build in the stairwell below him, slowly making its way up to him. He was trapped.

Seeing no other choice left, Akira carefully touched the metal wheel that would release the seal with the tip of his finger. Once he knew the door was not currently electrified, he went to work quickly cranking the wheel until there was a clank indicating the door could be opened. Akira pushed it open and barreled through until he was clear of it. He went a little too hard though and ended up falling forward onto the wood planking of the flight deck. Akira popped up as quickly as he could, scared for his life. In his agitated fight-or-flight state, he forgot that wood does not conduct electricity very well.

Akira got to his feet to find the flight deck under siege. A huge monster had wrapped itself around the hull of the ship in several loops, like a snake trying to strangle a victim. In this case, it appeared to be succeeding. The Akagi was listing and floating low in the water. Between the seawater she had taken on, and the added weight of the monster, the carrier was going to sink any minute.

'Is this happening because of our sins?' Akira asked himself, standing only yards away from one of the coils of the massive beast.

From what Akira could see, the monster had dull greenish-blue scales that ran the entire length of its body. The creature could be described as snake-like, save but a few notable features. First, it had a strip of what appeared to be yellow hair running along its back. Second, it had tiny arms and legs that it was using to keep a tight hold on the Akagi. Third, it had a pair of horns on either side of its head, two long whiskers, and a mouth full of sharp teeth in place of two simple fangs. In short, it had the look of a mythical Asian dragon.

Akira didn't have time to study the monster though. It was already clear that the Akagi was doomed. The carrier shifted again as the creature struggled to crush it. The sea-dragon roared towards the sky and the atmosphere around Akira seemed to change. Strands of electricity jumped between the hairs on the monster's back as they stood on end. The metal frame of the ship absorbed the jolt, while the wooden planks Akira stood on were relatively safe.

The Akagi seemed to slip further down, and her remaining aircraft on the flightdeck slid overboard. Akira considered abandoning ship by jumping directly into the ocean, but he realized all too well that he would die just as quickly in the seawater the next time the monster used an electric attack. It was then that Akira spotted a lifeboat that was being readied by another surviving sailor. He rushed over and helped the man make the final preparations to lower it down. They did have one big issue though. Ordinarily, lifeboats had to be lowered down by someone who was still on the ship.

As the situation stood, there were only the two of them, and neither would want to stay behind to lower the other. But Akira's companion provided a solution. He had foreseen the obstacle some time ago, and while Akira had been trying to escape from the lower decks, he had fetched a sword belonging to one of the officers. The sailor unsheathed the katana while Akira grabbed the sides of the lifeboat to hang onto for dear life. With one good swing of the exquisite blade, the two men had a wild ride down to the water. Luckily for the two of them, the drop wasn't nearly as far as it should have been. The sinking Akagi was riding low in the water, so the impact didn't break any bones, though it was still a rough landing.

Since Akira's companion was standing when the trip down had begun, he actually fell over the side when they splashed down. Akira was quick to grab him and pull him back in. The boat tipped a little, threatening to spill both men back into the water, but Akira managed to keep his balance. From there, they grabbed the lifeboat's paddles and got as much distance from the Akagi and the monster as possible. The whole time, they could see their former home sinking foot by foot under the water until it was gone.

After the carrier's fate had been sealed, the monster released it and surfaced to look for another target. Akira could only hope that he and his new friend were too small for it to bother with.