POV: Jason Brooks*

When Jason's eyes fluttered open, the harsh lights of the set blurred his vision. He groaned, trying to remember where he was and what had happened. His whole body ached from the fall, and for a moment, he thought it had been some sort of nightmare.

But then, as his vision cleared, the first thing he saw was Godzilla.

It was standing just a few feet away, unmoving but unmistakably alive. Its enormous form loomed over him, casting a shadow that felt suffocating. Jason's breath hitched in his throat as he locked eyes with it—those same dark, unsettling eyes that had terrified him earlier.

Godzilla didn't move. It just stared at him, its chest rising and falling slowly as if breathing. The intensity of its gaze was unnerving, far too human for what should have been a costume.

Jason struggled to sit up, his muscles protesting with every movement. He kept his eyes fixed on Godzilla, half-expecting it to lash out at any moment. But it didn't. It just stood there, motionless, like a statue carved from flesh and bone.

"Quest?" Jason croaked, his voice weak and trembling.

There was no response.

He tried again, louder this time. "Quest, is that you?"

Still nothing. No reaction. The longer the silence stretched, the more Jason's heart pounded in his chest. It was as though the creature standing before him wasn't just a man in a suit anymore. It felt like something far more dangerous, far more alive than it had any right to be.

The silence was broken by the faint sound of footsteps approaching. Jason glanced around and saw some of the crew cautiously edging toward him, their faces pale, their movements slow and deliberate. But none of them were looking at Jason. All of their eyes were on Godzilla—like they were just as terrified as he was.

One of the crew members knelt beside him, reaching out a hand to help him up. "Jason, are you alright?" they asked, their voice barely above a whisper.

"I… I think so," Jason mumbled, wincing as he took their hand and stood. His legs wobbled, but he forced himself to stay upright. "What's going on? Why is Quest just… standing there?"

The crew member swallowed nervously, glancing back at Godzilla. "We don't know. He's been like that since the scene ended. Just… staring at you."

Jason's skin prickled with unease. "And no one's tried to get him out of the suit?"

The crew member shook their head. "We can't. Every time someone gets close, it's like he—no, *it*—just… watches them. Like it's warning us not to."

Jason's blood ran cold. The memory of Godzilla's roar—of Quest's distorted scream—echoed in his mind. He didn't know what was going on anymore. This wasn't just a malfunction or exhaustion. This was something *else*.

"I don't know what's happening," Jason whispered, his eyes flicking back to Godzilla. "But I don't think that's Quest anymore."

Godzilla's gaze never wavered, its massive eyes fixed on Jason as if it were waiting for something. The tension in the air was suffocating, and Jason couldn't shake the feeling that whatever Quest had become, it was no longer entirely human.

The studio lights flickered for a moment, casting eerie shadows across the set, and Jason felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He didn't want to be here anymore. None of them did.

But Godzilla… it wasn't going to let them leave easily.