It was a big deal when a God of Darkness was silent.
A dreaded superpower who should’ve paraded in raining death and sorrowful destruction upon the peace-craving masses of the world, a being of the purest evil who should’ve reveled in the skies turning red in honor of worlds worse than Hell itself and cities falling under the black hand of desolation; all of that and then some had occurred exactly that way before such a God’s very eyes, a sight that should’ve been everything he ever wanted in existence. To see the planet honoring his coming as a herald to the end times, to see the start of all that existed in the world beginning to crumble. To crush all before his heel, to send even the most passionate prayers for light to triumph over darkness into the pits of oblivion, to see the total and prolonged annihilation of all that was good, to see all in the world tremble. This to a prophesied God of Darkness should’ve been the crown jewel in life above any existence had to offer--and such a sight was exactly what his glowing red eyes beheld before him. Such a sight should’ve given him indescribable joy.
Be that as it may, the sight before his wicked eyes left Bagan entirely speechless.
Not just the skies, but the entire landscape of Miami Florida was redder than the most freshly-shed blood. A thick haze of strange, scarlet dust had overtaken just about the entirety of the city and blotted out the heavens, like the plumes of some kind of strange desert storm from another planet. Even the largest skyscrapers in the distance were all but hidden from view by the festering clouds of crimson vapor. Hundreds of screeching cries echoed across the blood-red sky, their sources soaring the winds on leather wings the size of school buses. Masses of pterosaur-like creatures flew about the hellish landscape like demons from the pits of The Other Place, each one bearing a familiar appearance of twin horns topping their pointed skulls. Bagan made no sound nor motion as these “Rodans” soared above him, filling the auditory field with their prehistoric cackles to add to the biblical scenery. None of them made any move to fly towards or attack the colossal silver dragon who stood watching them, and this puzzled Bagan. Did they know of the monolith’s power or reputation, and thus seek to give him a wide berth out of fear? Or did they simply not care enough to bat an eye at his presence?
Bagan couldn’t tell. The thought of the latter being true would’ve normally enraged the dragon, and he would’ve been glad to churn his hellish energies and blast the winged reptiles all out of the sky had he not been so shocked out of his mind by the scenery before him. After minutes of merely standing there, staring and taking in the chilling sight around him, Bagan finally moved; the demonic god looked from left to right, seemingly in a vain attempt to locate anything in the vicinity around him. Were there others in this city? Had something else already passed by, and left this strange citywide plume behind as an aftermath?
Even more frustratingly confusing: what in the worthless universe was causing all this calamity?!
Rearing his clawed foot off the ground, Bagan took an earthquake-inducing step forward. A small building was instantly smashed like an eggshell under his powerful heel, shards of debris and shrapnel sent flying in all directions around it; shrapnel that would’ve impaled any human beings had they been around it. But woe to Bagan’s morbid wishes of bloodshed, for there were no humans in the area to crush, destroy or torment for his wicked amusement. No fragile little insects of little beings for the massive dragon to stomp on like a sadistic bully would an ant or beetle, no pain or agony for him to inflict anywhere where he could hear masses of terrified screams as he did away with their pointless lives. No fun to be had anywhere, so strange it sounded. Too strange to be true… … …
A brief glint of a flash caught Bagan’s eye, a little bit of light reflecting off something hundreds upon hundreds of meters far into the heavens. Something was falling--and that was not all Bagan saw. The dragon’s binocular vision spotted a black crescent-like construct flying silently away as the projectile it had just dropped continued to plummet at seemingly mach speeds, leaving what seemed to not be a trace of sound behind. A stealth bomber--and it had just deployed its cargo. The brutish drake smirked, red eyes aglow with evil delight. Small flecks of electricity were beginning to course along the pointed protrusions on his back, the thought of blasting the pitiful vessel out of the sky filling his head with elation… … ...but almost as quickly as he started, he stopped. A thought had struck his brain, one that gave him reason to pause.
That jet was dropping a bomb… … ...onto what, exactly?
His eyes turning their foul gaze away from the departing stealth jet, Bagan watched as the tiny bomb continued its free-fall countdown, plunging through the air like a stone before vanishing amidst the colossal clouds of red dust. Bagan held still and listened closely, all being silent for a moment...before, ever so faintly, he heard a distant metallic kink! of impact. Bagan nodded his head by just an inch, judging exactly when the inevitable happened. And in three..two...one… … …
BOOM!
Even through the thick plumes of maroon particles, the dragon could just faintly make out the brief flash of the climactic detonation. And before long, another followed in its wake. Bagan held his position, still staring into the crimson cloud. The bombs had hit their target--and it was that entity that the God of Darkness yearned to glimpse so badly. He needed to find out exactly who or what was behind this strange, biblical scenery around him; he needed to take care of whatever rival it was that was bringing forth this armageddon that he himself had claimed first dibs on long ago… … ...
SKREEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNK!!!!!!!!
Bagan froze like an iceberg in less than a fourth of a second of that roar kicking into gear. The dragon bore no facial expressions to outwardly tell he was definitely taking into unmistakable account of what that sound meant--but he didn’t need to, for it was already blatantly clear that he had been taken entirely off-guard from that sound, to say the least. The abominable destroyer had not been expecting to be hit with THAT revelation. A full minute of the destructive deity being frozen stiff to the spot had passed before he finally began to shake with a newfound emotion, one he knew all too well and had not expected to feel so soon nor on such a passionate height: rage. Trembling slightly enough to not be fully shaking yet just enough to show off his growing fury; broiling, magma-evaporating, universe-killing rage that caused Bagan to grit his shark-like teeth so hard, dozens of them broke off as his eyes began to widen to the point of bulging out of their sockets. There was no being in the entire universe he hated more than the telltale bearer of that specific roar, no god or devil or any higher or lower power that could ever topple that one entity that had caused him so much indescribable trouble in the past.
He knew the distinct and infamous roar of the King of the Monsters more than any other sound he had ever heard in his life.
Alas, the next two seconds marked the moment when Bagan’s mind conjured up the simplest, yet most daring goal imaginable. In this moment, the armored dragon made a decision: this was it. This would be the day. He had waited years upon years, decades even, to carry out this ludicrous deed, and for reasons he wouldn’t explain even if he were capable of human speech, hearing that roar in this moment was the last straw for him. Cracking his claws and flexing his muscles in preparation to succeed where so many had failed, Bagan pawed the ground and growled menacingly before rearing his devilish head to the red skies and bellowing a howl of challenge that shook the earth like the reverberations of a god’s hammer, scattering flocks of Rodans in all directions.
Today was the day he would finally destroy Godzilla.
*****
Narrow jaws filled with rows of pointed teeth opened to bark with interest, as limbs weaved in leather wings folded to allow the creature to land upon the ground. Eyes gray as cobblestone pinpointed every feature of the abandoned street amidst the thick smog of crimson dust, a duo-horned head cocking to the side before reaching down to take a closer look at whatever objects lay scattered around the concrete. The Rodan gazed upon the fallen body of a crow, pecking it with its beak out of sheer curiosity before leaning back to wait for something to happen. The corpse didn’t move, compelling the reptilian to move forward and peck it again. As the pterosaur-like creature observed this strange deceased life form, another cry echoed from above, causing it to look up. Another Rodan landed next to a nearby streetlight, cackling to the first. Moving forward on its wings, the second Rodan lumbered towards the first, rumbling aggressively. The first Rodan cocked its head in confusion, unsure of what exactly was the trouble. But when the second Rodan reared up with wings spread and shrieked a challenge, the first took notice of the loud and clear meaning, and suddenly assumed an attack position. The second Rodan wanted that corpse for itself--something the first was not gonna play along with.
The two winged reptilians exchanged angered shrieks and cackles at one another, making mock snaps and lunges in an effort to deter the other from their sights, but neither was yielding. The Pteranodon-like creatures continued to bicker with one another over who gets to lay claim to the avian carcass, a carcass that the two verbally warring beasts weren’t even sure what to do with in the first place. As the first Rodan made another mock-charge at its rival, both of them suddenly jolted when the auditory field rattled painfully from the sheer power of a roar loud enough to quake the biggest mountains. Shrieks of surprise from the pterosaurian beasts were drowned out by the after-echoes of the thunderous roar, the buildings themselves shaking as if in terror from the demonic war cry. The Rodans had ceased their former argument entirely, now simply staring off into the non-toxic smog of crimson that coated the land for miles. Even with their spectacular vision, they couldn’t see what had just uttered such a sound or how close in proximity to them it was. The first Rodan shifted uncomfortably as an eerie silence overtook the environment, creating a tension thick enough that all it would take to break it was a little push… … …
A powerful impact tremor shook the ground with tremendous force, as if Odin had smashed his warhammer into the earth itself. The Rodans jolted yet again with fright, but this time their spines were chilled to the very core by a dreadful sense of familiarity. As if they knew who had been the cause of such a tremor.
Before any further thoughts could be put forward on the matter, a colossal foot fell into view to smash its three ivory-white talons into the concrete streets with an even stronger impact; an event of which finally made the Rodans spread their wings and take flight with loud cries, both abandoning any and all interest in their former object of interest as they both came to the same conclusion: screw it. As the winged beasts took to the archetype-ridden skies, another tri-clawed foot reared into view to stomp upon the streets of humanity’s making, giving way to a massive shadow that loomed within the sheets of vaporous red. The shadow slowly lumbered down the street with a heavy gait, the planet shaking in terror with every thunderclap of a footfall. Towering upright nearly three hundred feet in its full height, the monstrous outline would’ve stunned even the bravest veterans silent had they been present to witness such an unfathomable sight.
The giant made all before him tremble not just as he moved, but as he merely existed. The orderly chaos that made up the fabric of this universe was changing little by little simply by his very being there. This universe was rejecting any acceptance of his existence and was falling into other forms of chaos unknown to this fabric. Things that this particular universe allowed not to exist were existing wherever he went, his mere presence shedding interdimensional material that gave birth to new laws of reality and physics alike, the trail he left behind terraforming the environment around him into new, exotic shapes and sizes. The makeup of this reality was warping and shifting out of control, so long as his taloned feet remained planted upon the very earth and his skin exposed to the air.
The Sacred Beast of the Apocalypse echoed a low rumble as he continued to move his chaotic existence forward, the earth trembling under his clawed heel yet again. The black reptilian bore no smile of joy as he traversed the land; he displayed no signs of glee or reveling in the collapse of reality occurring around his very being. Inhaling through his great nostrils, the beast snorted a deep sigh. He didn’t really pay any deep thought to how any of this worked--or better yet, why. It just was. Merely by existing in this specific reality, he was now an agent of chaos. He didn’t make the rules, plan anything out, he didn’t think or utilize his chaotic presence, he just… … ...did. And just him doing was all it took for the fabric of this plane’s being to throw an interdimensional temper tantrum. But in the end, the goliath simply just accepted it. He had zero control over the fact that this world’s physics couldn’t make up their damn minds about his existence, and he had no choice but to just go along with it. There was nothing he could do to stop any of it; in this world he was the bringer of armageddon, and that was just it. It was just the way things were.
The beast took another step forward. He had heard the thundering vocalization up ahead, not knowing its source but recognizing its meaning and intent without fault. He could’ve heard the obvious howl of challenge even from miles and miles away, and he still would’ve done what he did right now, what his instincts compelled him to do. Aside from moving around and searching hopelessly for something his gut told him he was unlikely to ever find, he had nothing else to do. So, he moved towards it, eyes staring mightily into the rose-colored haze of his body’s own making. The beast moved forward to answer it, to meet this unknown threat head-on.
He accepted the challenge.
The giant lumbered in the direction of the bellowing ultimatum, casting all before him in the shadow of a colossus.
*****
Rarely had the abomination known as Bagan been one to play the waiting game. If anything, it should’ve been all who stood to oppose him that should’ve been the ones to stand and wait. Wait for him to slowly make his way from the desolate hellscapes of his making to appear before their very eyes, and mark his arrival with his ear-splitting howl to begin the final battle of good vs evil. To wait for him to bring about the apocalypse. But, through some twist of fate that should not be, here he was in their place. Waiting for his most hated rival to show himself from the red smoke that shadowed Miami like a fog from Tartaurus. How honestly silly it all was.
And it pissed him off so much it was legitimately funny.
Bagan gritted his regrown teeth, standing still and facing the gigantic mushroom cloud of rose-colored vapor that eclipsed Miami as he awaited his rival’s face to be shown. The ground reverberated in a fashion even the likes of Bagan could not describe, telltale impact waves that the dragon recognized without even guessing as footsteps. Crust-rattling crash after crash echoed through ground and soul alike for kilometers like the beats of a deity’s drums of war. The God of Darkness felt no fear, but even he had to admit deep down that hearing those slow, marching footfalls sent chills of some kind of reverence through his bones. And the fact that they were drawing closer with every deafening CRASH! was only increasing such a feel.
And that in turn made Bagan jealous. He was the one who should’ve been instilling such power, not… … …
A black shadow was beginning to darken a large portion of the crimson view ahead of him, gradually birthing to the eye an outline that increased in detail with every passing second as the being lumbered forth at a tortoise’s pace. Bagan growled and his eyes flashed with wrath, watching the familiar shape beginning to manifest out of the plumes of maroon. Another heaven-quaking footfall--and two glinting lights became visible on the area that Bagan judged to be the creature’s head. Even though he hadn’t yet gotten a detailed look at them, Bagan could tell he was looking his rival in the eye. He could already feel the sheer power radiating off those eyes, mixing with the titanic force of the beast’s footsteps. The creature leaned further out of the dust, another footfall following in its wake. And a few seconds later, this motion repeated itself… … ...and that’s where Bagan began to take notice of something peculiar: his old rival did not look 100% identical to how he recognized him. For one, he was several times bulkier than he remembered him, his body packed with sheer bodily muscle. He was slightly shorter in height, his skin composed of rugged, plated scales reminiscent of a great samurai’s armor; his swinging tail was far longer with a narrow, pointed end. Longer than twice the length of his own body, in fact. His face bore strong resemblance to an Oni or yokai of Japanese folklore and mythology, his dominant upper teeth replaced with curved tusks instead of fangs. His dorsal plates were smaller and sharper, with red blood vessels being visible on their surface.
And his eyes… … …
This time, Bagan felt a far stronger chill reverberate through his very soul. Those eyes conveyed one thing and one thing only: a beast of pure unbridled, legendary power. Bagan had already long admitted to himself that the mere presence of the King of Kaiju had instilled a feeling of a beast that could match his own dreadful power; this time, however, the Kaiju King’s presence was something more, something far beyond even that. Here, before this strangely revamped version of the loathsome rival he knew and hated, Bagan felt as if he were standing in the presence of a God. As if he were in the audience of a deity of legend like himself. Even if he were capable of human speech, the dragon wouldn’t have known how to genuinely put into words how this beast made him feel here and now.
To put it short and simply, the saurian’s eyes evoked an aura of unequaled strength.
The ground shook louder and more powerfully than ever when the now-visible perpetrator of the red dust took a final step forward, fixing Bagan’s glowing red eyes with his mystical gaze. The dragon hoped his opponent didn’t notice, but he actually on the smallest level twitched when those legendary eyes met his own. And the bulky reptilian was sixty meters shorter than him! But, just to keep his pride from denting any further, the God of Darkness kept his eyes locked on those of his saurian foe as he prepared to face him in the ultimate combat. A combat that he had thirsted for scorchingly, painfully for years, even if preferably not like the circumstances he found himself currently in.
His blood pumping with adrenaline-fueled thrill, the abomination known as Bagan flexed his claws and howled his demonic ululation, finally ready to end this rivalry once and for all.
Godzilla, King of the Monsters, held silent for a moment as he kept his strange gaze on the silver dragon, as if he were entirely confused over what all the rage was about, but within a few moments he soon mustered a response. Gaping his viper-like jaws, the Sacred Beast of the Apocalypse let loose a long, earth-quaking bellow that rattled all buildings and made Bagan visibly jolt, like a deer paralyzed by a tiger’s roar. Henceforth, the armored drake decided here and now, that that was the loudest and most bone-chilling war cry that had ever come to invade his ears.