(A/N: Another brave soul has entered the fray—welcome, Wolv96! At this rate, I might have to start writing with turbo mode on. As promised, here's your bonus chapter!)
───「 Human POV 」───
Golden wings unfurled through steel and stone.
Ghidorah was awakening.
"How is this possible?" whispered Dr. Harrington, her face illuminated by the emergency lights of the observation deck. Around her, the space station crew stared in disbelief at their monitors.
Through reinforced viewports, they watched as massive golden wings erupted from Venus's industrial surface—a surface humanity had spent decades transforming. The metallic landscape, once a testament to human ingenuity, now split apart like tissue paper.
"It shouldn't have any energy left," muttered Commander Chen, frantically analyzing the readings. "Nothing survives 450 million years without feeding. Nothing!"
Even as an extraterrestrial entity capable of interstellar travel, Ghidorah should have exhausted its energy reserves eons ago. The physics didn't make sense. Titans could hibernate for tens of millions of years, but only with periodic sustenance. Ghidorah had been entombed without access to any energy source.
And yet...
The steel earth trembled violently beneath the awakening colossus. A deafening, high-pitched roar shattered through layers of reinforced iron, echoing across the Venusian atmosphere and penetrating even the vacuum-sealed chambers of our station.
"ROAR!"
Underground layers of steel—each hundreds of meters thick—buckled and rose skyward, propelled by an unimaginable force. Massive golden spikes pierced through the planet's industrial skin, followed by impossibly long, serpentine necks emerging from deep within Venus's crust.
Billions of tons of steel could no longer contain the ancient horror. Three golden heads—each over 300 meters tall—shook off debris like a dog shedding water. The alien, dragon-like appendages twisted and snapped, scanning their surroundings with predatory intelligence.
With tremendous effort, Ghidorah extracted its massive wings and dual tails from Venus's crust, dragging itself free from a prison that had contained it for hundreds of millions of years.
"ROAR!"
The synchronized roars from Ghidorah's three heads generated shockwaves visible even through our instruments. Its entire body began emitting a brilliant golden light, and what followed was a spectacle unlike anything recorded in human history.
───「 Human POV 」───
"The atmosphere is changing," reported Officer Zhang, her voice barely audible over the station's emergency sirens.
From our orbital vantage point, we watched a corner of the Maxwell Mountains erupt with blinding light. Lightning—not ordinary electrical discharge, but something orders of magnitude more powerful—arced through Venus's dense atmosphere.
Earth scientists had terms for extremely powerful lightning: super lightning, ultra lightning—measured in trillions or quadrillions of watts. But what we witnessed demanded new classification entirely.
Venus's ancient atmosphere, stable for billions of years, became catastrophically ionized. A superstorm, centered on Ghidorah, began forming near the Maxwell Mountains. Wind speeds rapidly accelerated past 100 meters per second as the storm expanded.
"It's going to engulf the entire planet," whispered Dr. Singh, our meteorologist. His hands trembled as he charted the storm's growth.
The superstorm expanded to a diameter exceeding 6,000 kilometers with winds reaching 120 meters per second—Category 27 by Earth's hurricane standards. Venus's atmosphere, ninety times denser than Earth's, created atmospheric pressure exceeding 80 tons per square meter—enough to obliterate any structure on the surface.
Through thermal imaging, we watched in horror as the Maxwell Mountains—geological features that had existed for hundreds of millions of years—began to collapse. Half of Venus disappeared beneath the swirling tempest.
At the epicenter stood Ghidorah, extending its massive wings from a sea of molten iron, shaking off liquefied metal like cosmic raindrops.
"ROAR!"
Golden lightning discharged from its body, striking smaller Ghidorah forms scattered throughout the molten sea below. It was reviving them, just as our probes had inadvertently revived it.
"So our hypothesis was wrong," muttered Director Collins, her face ashen. "Ghidorah wasn't hibernating these past 450 million years. It was actually dead."
The ancient Venusians had succeeded in their final battle. They had killed Ghidorah completely—every cell, every tissue had ceased all biological activity.
But the alien materials composing Ghidorah's body defied conventional decay. They remained perfectly preserved, like an engine with a full tank of fuel, requiring only an initial spark.
And humanity had provided that spark.
"We couldn't have known," whispered someone behind me. "No Earth species behaves this way."
Godzilla, the Titans—for all their extraordinary abilities—still operated within comprehensible biological parameters. But Ghidorah was something else entirely.
We watched as its golden wings expanded impossibly, unfurling structures that transformed from their compact, overlapping state into something vaster and more terrifying.
"ROAR!"
With a powerful downstroke, Ghidorah launched itself skyward, displacing billions of tons of atmosphere and creating hundred-meter waves in the sea of molten iron below. The monster soared through its self-created storm, golden body absorbing countless lightning strikes. Surface temperature readings exceeded that of the sun, yet Ghidorah seemed to revel in the energy.
"Why?" asked Lieutenant Parker, breaking the stunned silence on the command deck. "Why could it reactivate after 450 million years with just a tiny energy input? What kind of organism can do that?"
No one answered. No one could.
And then we saw them—more golden figures rising from Venus's surface, soaring through the atmosphere, heading toward...
"They're coming toward us," whispered Communications Officer Reyes.
Golden light began gathering in their mouths.
April 12, 2208, 23:12.
The Venus Space Station's final transmission confirmed three things:
The station's imminent destruction
Ghidorah's escape from Venus
Multiple Ghidorah entities on trajectory toward Earth
The first wave was expected to reach Earth in 40 days.
Meanwhile, deep in the Pacific Ocean, seismic sensors detected movement. Godzilla was stirring, as if sensing the approaching threat.
Twenty-four days remained until Earth's ancient guardian would fully awaken.