This time, Godzilla's forward speed was noticeably slower than its previous sprint.
However, its sheer weight still made the earth quake with every step.
The nearest railgun had already been dealt with—only three remained.
The shortest route to eliminate them was clear.
Destroy. Crush. Burn.
Godzilla stomped through the steel-and-concrete jungle, demolishing buildings in its path. Every step sent tremors through the ground, the concrete beneath its feet cracking inch by inch. Skyscrapers, houses—none of them mattered. They were obstacles. They would fall.
It barreled forward, toppling everything in its way and leaving a wake of devastation. The scent of burning metal and scorched earth filled its nostrils. Smoke curled in the air, but it didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the hunt. The prey.
The three remaining railguns, located dozens of kilometers away, locked onto Godzilla once again—guided by satellites. Invisible eyes, watching. Weaklings.
All three railguns charged simultaneously, consuming over 10 billion watt-hours of electricity in an instant. Pushed past their design limits, each cannon far exceeded its 200-million-watt-hour capacity.
Now, they fired at over 3.5 billion watt-hours per shot—pushing their absolute limits.
Massive surges of electricity flowed through superconducting rails, generating violent arcs of lightning. The armatures accelerated, and the railguns unleashed their most powerful shots yet.
Nearly 12 billion watt-hours of energy propelled the projectiles. The 10-ton shells, now traveling at speeds exceeding Mach 60, tore through the atmosphere—faster than anything else on Earth.
The sheer force of the shots obliterated everything in their path. Even the several-million-ton railgun bases tilted backward under the immense recoil.
Anything standing along the projectiles' trajectory was annihilated by the shockwaves alone. These three hypersonic spears raced across 60 kilometers in just three seconds—unstoppable, unrelenting, aiming straight for Godzilla.
Three seconds. Too little time for Godzilla to gather energy and jump.
How could it possibly evade these railgun shots?
Danger. Pain.
Roar!
A surge of purple energy erupted from Godzilla's maw, targeting the closest railgun.
At the same time, Godzilla dropped its body low, dodging the trajectory of the northern railgun!
This time, it had learned. It didn't waste its breath on the wreckage behind it. No. Not again.
But it didn't aim for the incoming projectiles either.
Instead, its attack streaked ahead, crashing into a cluster of buildings several kilometers away.
Boom!
A fireball erupted, engulfing everything nearby. Silence followed.
Bang.
After a long pause, a massive tail swiped through the smoke and dust, revealing Godzilla's towering figure.
Had it been hit?
The explosion had thrown off the aim of the closest railgun, while Godzilla had successfully dodged the second shot. But the third—
Pain. Heat. Flesh torn.
Compared to before, a deep indentation now marked Godzilla's right shoulder. Embedded within it was the end of an electromagnetic projectile—a testament to humanity's firepower.
Godzilla had been hit.
The five-meter-long railgun shell was lodged deep, burying itself at least six meters into the kaiju's flesh. The wound's diameter spanned twelve meters—a brutal, devastating impact.
This strike was far stronger than the previous railgun attack.
Yet, for Godzilla, the damage was tolerable.
A seven-meter-deep wound looked gruesome, but its shoulders were over a hundred meters wide. The projectile had barely grazed its massive muscles.
If mere railgun strikes were enough to stop Godzilla, humanity wouldn't fear it.
Even so, the injury mattered. In its weakened self-healing state, Godzilla refused to take more hits.
Weaklings had drawn its blood. Unacceptable.
Stretching its arm, the beast pressed forward, intent on wiping out the remaining railguns.
The human weapons, however, had overheated. Their overloaded systems were temporarily inoperable.
The superconducting rails had held up, but the non-superconducting components had suffered—capacitor wires short-circuited, requiring immediate repair.
Beneath the railguns, technicians scrambled to restore humanity's last line of defense. But Godzilla's powerful electromagnetic pulse (EMP) from its breath had rendered conventional repair robots useless. Only humans could carry out the maintenance.
They were the last ones standing.
Previously, there had been two frontline units. The other had been obliterated hours ago.
Now, only they remained.
Nearly ten thousand engineers and soldiers worked frantically to repair the railguns.
But Godzilla wouldn't give them the time.
Its atomic breath surged toward the still-functional railgun.
"Dodge! Dodge!"
A desperate cry rang out as workers abandoned their stations, scrambling for cover.
But it was too late.
Mid-flight, Godzilla's breath transformed into an all-consuming firestorm.
With temperatures exceeding a thousand degrees, the inferno stretched hundreds of meters in height and width, engulfing everything in its path.
The firestorm advanced at a terrifying speed of a hundred meters per second, devouring all in silence.
The railgun stood, but the people outside—
They never had a chance.
Flames engulfed the battlefield. Operators, engineers, railguns—all swallowed by the blazing storm.
Perhaps destroying the weapons themselves wasn't necessary.
Perhaps killing the people who controlled them was enough.
Realizing this, Godzilla didn't move toward the last operational railgun.
Instead, it turned toward the remaining two.
Nagoya's fate was sealed.
The last two railguns in Osaka could no longer stop the monster.
Continuing the fight was pointless.
Sato knew this.
From the Eastern Headquarters in Osaka, the retreat order was given. The soldiers at the two remaining railguns were ordered to withdraw.
Nagoya was lost.
Godzilla rampaged through the shattered city, its breath painting the world in flames.
Let it burn.
Now that it was utterly destroyed, it was time to leave.
At the Osaka command center, Commander Sato stared at the screen displaying Godzilla's relentless destruction.
"…It's over."