//------------------------------// // Interlude Three // Story: A King to a God // by JDPrime22 //------------------------------// 21 Years Earlier Izunokuneigh, Neighpon It was the last tremor, the heaviest they had felt, that was the last straw for him. The doors to their grandfather’s home slid open rapidly, and Shatter Heart practically raced across the grassy lawn with his older brother barely able to hold him back. Out under the night sky, under the brilliant starlight, where the city before them was in tatters. “Shatter! I said you have to listen to me! Mother and Father said you have to!” his older brother Cross shouted in their native tongue. Shatter made no attempt to gallop a step further, allowing Cross to easily catch up and wrap his foreleg tightly around his withers. Both to halt his pursuit and keep him steady, for the tremor was still unfolding, albeit not nearly as strong as earlier. Their grandfather slowly made his way onto the front porch, glasses heavy upon his snout, his brow even heavier. Cinder Heart’s voice was the heaviest of all, roaring at the colts, “Boys, you come back inside at once! I will not have my son’s children throwing away their safety so recklessly, not under my roof!” There was not a sound nor a movement from either of them, despite Cross having successfully apprehended his disobedient younger brother. The two simply stood as one now, their shadows cascading further and further with each burst of light brightening in the city beyond the hills. Cinder’s old heart began to beat faster, his fears becoming realized. “Cross, you bring him back this instant!” he shouted once more. “They said they would be here…” Shatter whispered tightly, his voice the loudest sound his older brother could hear. Enough to earn Cross’ attention, bringing his wide and worrisome gaze onto his sibling. “Mother and Father are still…” Cross was left facing a split road. His parents entrusted him to keep his younger brother safe in their absence. Despite being only a couple years older than Shatter, he was still meant to be the adult when the actual adults were gone. Gone, still in the city, helping others flee another earthquake. They had faced many minor tremors before and came out unscathed. This one, however… it felt different. He could entrust his grandfather to keep Shatter safe. As for Cross, he couldn’t rest—much like Shatter—simply not knowing where his parents were in this coming catastrophe. He was a Heart. It was a dishonor to ignore his own. His own beating heart, and the family that was still trapped in the city. And so, with a gentle shove against his chest, Cross took his stand in front of his little brother. Meeting his stare and nothing else, trying desperately just to feel Shatter’s rapidly-beating heart and not the fear corroding his own body. “Stay with Grandfather,” was all Cross told him. Before he took off down the hill. “No! Cross, wait!” Shatter desperately pleaded, reaching out but being stopped once more. This time by his grandfather, who had just lost all patience with the colt writhing in his grasp. For nearly ten seconds the two fought. The withered Earth pony was no match for the speed and adrenaline the young unicorn still had, and when he slipped out of his grasp, old Cinder collapsed onto the grass. Losing his breath, gasping for air, the stallion reached for his glasses that had fallen from his gaze. The blur in his eyes faded and he caught the tiny flicker of red from Shatter’s coat vanish among the Neighponese maples. He trembled to his hooves, limping far behind them, mustering up the strength just to scream their names. Of which neither brother replied. Galloping past the hills and valleys, through the streams blackened by the night, and entering the outskirts of the city, Cross Heart observed the chaos at face value. Various Minka just outside of Izunokuneigh were being abandoned, families taking their chances with their young and their carriages packed to the brim with their livelihood. A great exodus was being enacted, families fleeing for the hills, the same safety and serenity Cross’ own parents brought their children to. Mother and Father led them to the safety of their grandfather’s home high atop the mightiest of hills in all of Izunokuneigh. There was great seismic activity today, and it only worsened as the sun fell and the stars became alive. They didn’t want their sons to be in the city if anything horrible happened, as they stayed behind to help others evacuate. An evacuation that just as quickly became a disorganized, rampant chaos. The deeper into the city he traversed, the more he saw of the depravity and the heartlessness. Various cracks grew larger and wider across the streets and even deeper into the earth—the cracks in their fumbling society also showing—spurring countless acts of vandalism, stealing, rioting, all of which went unchecked. Businesses were ransacked. Families fled from homes as another—albeit smaller—tremor rippled across the ground. The lawless became the order. The old order was nowhere to be seen, offering nothing to save the ponies of the emperor. Perhaps we both saw it that way… But delving deeper, believing at first the root cause to be another earthquake, Cross’ intentions shifted momentarily from finding his parents when the platoons entered the streets. They were armed. They wore decorated armor reminiscent of the ancient samurai, bearing the flags of their proud nation as their carriages rolled into the roads. Many soldiers sat in the carriages, but many more marched on their own hooves, beat the air with their own wings, and put down the riots with their own unicorn magic. The lawless, cowards as they were, abandoned their deranged pursuits once the military took command of the chaos. Batons and katanas and magic were their weapons to deter the acts of madness unfolding in the city they swore to protect. As for the tremors, it didn’t seem there was any weapon they could wield to combat it. But they sure seemed determined to try. They all rode and marched and flew in one direction. Breaking the tide of the riots, stemming the chaos to try and control it, the local police and armies of Neighpon stormed Izunokuneigh. All to reach the western coastline. Witnessing this, Cross watched them in their monumental numbers, followed from a great distance to see what their destination just so happened to be. He stepped out from behind a slew of building debris, climbed atop a mound of rubble blocking the road, and saw every spotlight pointed toward it. All he saw were the walls when he heard that shrill voice cry behind him. “Cross!” His head spun around, and his eyes widened in horror. “Shatter?!” his older brother cried in response, though with more anger, laced with betrayal. “What are you doing?!” “Trying to find you! We must get Mother and Father!” Shatter exclaimed, stumbling on the rocks dotting the road. Cross slid down the mound to cut off his path. Snout to snout, the overwhelming dread washing over his anger, Cross screamed, “I told you to stay—!” A terrible shift in the underground world cut off his voice. The facility where military personnel were already marching toward and surrounding shifted as well. As did most of Izunokuneigh. It was an old facility present on the outskirts of the city, with walls so high and security so tight that none within the city of Izunokuneigh—not even the Pegasi—were allowed to see beyond it. None except those sworn to secrecy within the walls. That didn’t seem to deter the police or the military, as they seemed hellbent on seeing those steel doors unlocked. The roaring orders from the commanders to the stationed guards surrounding the walls were a strong indicator that time was of the essence, that their orders came straight from the emperor himself. That something was terribly, horribly wrong. But they were all silenced. The military, the facility’s guards, and even the two young unicorns arguing just on the outskirts of the city. Silenced by the growling shift of the world beneath their hooves. There was another sound deep within the earth. The soft growl of tectonic plates scraping viciously against one another, and escalating far beyond what seemed natural. For all within the walls of the facility and all within the city of Izunokuneigh heard it as clear as any other tremor that came and went. Except this tremor held with it a wailing cry. A cry that effectively tore down the walls of the facility. I can still hear it. Like the most terrible of booms. The cracks in the walls had spread so vast, so quickly, that the structure simply could not be maintained. It collapsed as the tremor progressed, and the walls surrounding the facility all fell in tandem. Giant slabs of concrete and steel beams crumbled as a wave of dust washed over the police and armies of the emperor. In the dust, in the shadows, unseen and unheard amidst such a sea of chaos, the brothers Cross and Shatter traversed the sea. A sea of shaken warriors and skeletal beams of a former wall. Soldiers were blinded by the dust, forced to remove their helmets and masks to cough and nearly dry heave upon the solid pavement, just to breathe in a fresh breath. Unicorn horns ignited and voices called out for the wounded to sound off. In an effort to wade their way through the dust and darkness, Cross and Shatter found themselves lost in it. But never losing each other. Cross ensured he had his little brother’s hoof wrapped tightly around his. Their hoofsteps became echoes among several others, stopping only when Cross instinctively stopped at the first sign of light. A soft orange glow. One that shimmered deep below the ground and emerged in the darkness. Not the darkness that surrounded them, but a deeper blackness. One so thick that only the oncoming beams of the nearby spotlights could have granted the brothers the sight they needed. Cross had made an effort to turn away and run, bring his brother with him, but he had lost all motor function. All he felt move was his chest, his heart deep within him thundering in tandem. Only now did the sons see what such precaution was for. Only now did they see what their parents had warned of, and what Izunokuneigh was desperately unprepared for. Hidden behind the walls and hidden from their knowledge in their own home, a large cocoon rested in the earth. And the orange shell around it began to fade into black. Instead, a new light came from the dissipating smoke and oncoming spotlights washing across the destruction. Allowing both Cross and Shatter to see the cocoon with their own eyes. It was empty. It had been opened. The light from the spotlights caught the emerging limbs rising high over the crevice and impacting the solid pavement to the brothers’ left and right. The limbs pushed up the head, the glowing red visor, and the jagged teeth hanging within the widening jaws. How foolish we were. Unprepared. Standing awestruck to what we didn’t know then, but know now as the MUTO. The beast unleashed a horrible sound, as if an agitated cackle emerged deep in the blackest pit of its heart and made its dominion to the earth and sky. Its voice clicked and snapped furiously, its jaws doing the same. When it rose up to full height, when they were caught under its shadow, that was when Cross knew he had to act. He knew his brother’s life was endangered, so he grabbed his hoof once more and tore him away from the monster. They ran. They galloped. They raced across the devastation as soldiers raced past them, toward the beast. As brave as they were, it was still a fool’s game. Even from the rallying cries of their commanders and the explosive blasts from their unicorn magic impacting the creature, it was all folly. For the monster glared down at them, shrieking at the magic striking its hide, moments before it spread its wings and sent a gust of hurricane-like winds across the earth. Carriages were flung like they were paper. Pegasi flying toward the beast with katanas and spears drawn were thrown to the ground even faster. The armies crumbled and fell, rolled back and were thrown against debris and one another. Luckily, Cross had brought his younger brother to the entrance of the city, the two ducking and hiding behind the closest building. The roof was torn free above them, but the foundations held strong. The dust itself had fully cleared now. And all that was left was the creature echoing its roar high into the night sky. Both Cross and Shatter peaked out from cover to catch a glimpse of it, just a mere image of its shadow grown with its wings greatly extended into the air. Just as the beast turned its attention onto the helpless city, it stopped. Its roar ceased. It was silenced. Instead, it turned its attention to the coastline, to the West, where it heard a disturbance. Just then, both Cross and Shatter heard it, too. Deeper than the soft thundering of the earth, growing in strength to become mightier than the earthquakes that came before, the tremor came from the sea. The sea itself receded, and the threat of a tsunami was present, but it never grew to that level. Even when the sirens sounded and whoever was left within Izunokuneigh hadn’t yet fled for their lives, they most assuredly did now. The sons did not. Perhaps it was the fear that held them there. The curiosity thanks to their youth, as well. Whatever it was, they did not move. They did not run. They watched. The sea erupted, followed by even heavier tremors than they had felt prior. Darkness coated the shoreline, but even the shadows could not contain it forever. The spotlights on the outskirts of the former facility all turned in accordance to the new disturbance, the new threat, and the new terror that had broken through. A terror that had followed the sounds of the trembling earth just as Cross had. Just as Shatter had. It emerged out of the ocean and entered the city’s edge. It elicited an agitated stance from the creature. The beast spread its wings and gave off, once more, its threatened battle cry. The spotlights did not pay it any heed. They washed across the tremendous feet crushing the ground. They washed up the legs to the sternum, to the swaying claws. Enlightening all the world to the face of annihilation glaring down to them all. Cross Heart gasped. Shatter Heart uttered not a sound. The legends they were told were true. Gojira was real. It was here. And he attacked. With an earth-shattering roar leading its charge. There was a clash, there was a shock wave, and the sounds the beasts created where as the sounds of Tartarus awakening, and hellfire raining down. Gojira greatly overpowered the rival monster with crushing strength and visceral ferocity. Its jaws bit down on the creature’s and twisted it awkwardly. So much so that the creature collapsed and rolled across the road, directly into the hold of Izunokuneigh. Shambling with all limbs pushing its shaken body back up, the beast quickly noted the immense dichotomy of power displayed. The alpha was of a strength it could not match, a nature it could not contend with. The newborn was fresh to the world, fearful of what it held, and what this alpha could do to it. And so, the creature sought only its natural instincts it was born with. The winged creature followed its nature and tried to flee. As for the terror of the sea… annihilation was its nature, and annihilation was what it brought. Just as it spread its wings and rose up, Gojira ignited its spinal plates and unleashed a blinding beam of raw, fiery radiation onto the newborn. The attack launched the beast forward, instantly losing its flight and crashing further across the city. Turning back, the monster gave off a crackling cry before spreading its wings and trying again. Flying again. Doing everything to escape Gojira’s fire. As did Cross and Shatter. There was no hesitation any longer when the creature’s struck. Every effort Cross took from that point forward was to protect his little brother. So, they ran. Between crumbling buildings as the tremors escalated to magnitudes neither brother imagined could be real. Nor could they imagine the sheer image of the beast flying and crashing in front of them and decapitating their way of escape. Another road, and another way out. Another chance to escape. Another chance to survive. As the brothers ran for their lives, so too did the winged beast. Only, it was skewered again and again, caught by Gojira’s flame that followed every direction it took. Its fire was spread throughout the city and the earth and the many who dwelled upon it. All who were caught in Gojira’s path felt its wrathful sting… a path laid forth since the old order of the world had fallen. The only order now—the only order Godzilla sought—was his own. These titanic forces of power, these monstrous beasts of the natural world, their war was waged and the innocent suffered the worst. If this was the natural order, if this was Gojira’s nature, it brought with it the end. Annihilation brought only the end of all they knew. Shatter and Cross miraculously managed to escape, just to their original destination. Though Cross intended for the hills once he saw how vicious the beasts battled and how quickly the fires spread, he soon found his means of escape burned away by the rising flames. The newborn flew over their heads, barely scraping the rooftops with the tip of its left wing, and then came the fires washing across the buildings and streets and consuming it all in a horrifying, blue wave. Cross dug his hooves into the road, shielding his face with a raised foreleg to block out the blinding rays, the searing heat, and the overwhelming power of the blast. Only, when he dropped his foreleg the fire did not stop. It did not cease. It grew only larger, fiercer, with no intentions to stop and only intending to scorch the night sky in a haunting, red glow. It scorched all the earth just as well, for every direction Cross turned he could see only the fire. A fire that held no distinction from what it took. A fire that touched and devoured and tore down the most ancient of towers and familial homes. Nothing was spared. Nothing was defended or protected when the true order of the world crushed the inhabitants of it. He spun around, finally realizing his younger brother was gone. But he didn’t have to look long. He recognized the street. He recognized the homes, though the flames licked at them still. He could never forget the walls, the short grove trail, the stones leading to the front doors of his birth home. The maples were burned to black, embers trailing from the scorched leaves and getting caught in the rushing wind. Down the path, between the trees, and frozen in fear before the open doors, there was his little brother. There was Shatter. Rushing to his side, he was surprised to see that Shatter hadn’t acted. In a way, Cross was surprised in his own inaction. The two just stared, faces pale but illuminated under the flames coating the home they were raised in. Shatter’s eyes were full, flushing with so many different emotions he didn’t know which one to express. He didn’t know which one to act on. But he knew soon enough. They both did. It was their screams from inside that convinced them. Shatter was gone in a heartbeat, ignoring the screams from his brother that were now numb to his ears. For a moment, all was numb. Tears stained his eyes and the breath in his lungs had halted when he tore through the broken doors. He didn’t feel the burning wood beneath his hooves before it was too late. He couldn’t see through the smoke to find his parents. Not when the plumes of flame and searing-hot ash shot forth toward him. Not when the ceiling collapsed and his brother concocted a weak, magical shield to cover him. The screams came back, but they were not the voices Shatter sought. They were not the voices he threw away his life for. The scream came from the voice of his older brother, begging and praying that he was all right. That he was okay. His magic wasn’t strong, but he had tried. I knew he blamed himself when he pulled Shatter out of the debris. His screams elevated in pitch as his hooves reached into the flaming hunks of wood still hanging over his little brother. He pushed them aside, Cross crying in agony as the wood seared into his forelegs. Branding him in a language he could only describe as desolation. A tongue he could never mimic or utter. The same brand consumed his brother’s body and limbs, sparing his face. He was dragged onto what was once the front porch, the farthest Cross could pull before his strength had faded. The smoke had filled up so much of his lungs he could hardly believe he was still breathing, every whooping cough earning more tears and practically vomit splattering on the floor. But even then, having sustained the burns and the smoke and tears, they had not faced the worst of it. They observed their city. A home they would once awaken to every morning, sneak out and watch the rising sun bathe the hills and the maples in a stunning red blaze. Mother and Father calling us home… calling them to finish their morning chores before school. Both of them racing each other down the hills… into the stunning red blaze. Now, the only blaze came from the jaws of Gojira, casting its wrath across the city all to strike down the flying creature. Once the beast had been struck down, Gojira finished it off, unleashing one last stream of atomic fury onto the prone creature. It expressed its victory in an earth-trembling roar that tore apart what was left of the flame-filled skylines. The monster was defeated, but the cost, the aftermath, all of it was far too much for their minds to comprehend. But, they supposed, it was never too much for Gojira and what it deemed necessary. The King of the Monsters lost nothing from this massacre. As for them, as for the victims, they might as well have lost everything. The sons who lost their home. Their mother, their father, their people were gone, washed away in a sea of flames. We both burned that night… but some of us heal quicker than others. Wood splintered in a horrific sound. Like shattering bones, like the monstrous, dying moan of an even greater beast came from above. The lost sons twisted their heads around, only to gape in horror as the rest of the roof and the house collapsed around and on top of them. Cross ignited what strength he had left into his magic, creating one last shield for them. One so weak and frail it would have never saved them… had Shatter not intervened and empowered his brother’s shield with his own magic. His untrained, undisciplined magic that was weaker than Cross’, but was somehow just enough. Shatter Heart dove into Cross’ embrace and brightened his horn. And it was just enough to protect them from the raining, flaming debris that brought darkness onto them. I can never forget that night… despite all I have done to try. But perhaps the morning after was worse. Light spilled between the cracks and crevices above their heads. Voices rang and cried in desperation, a feeble call to any who lived. Their own voices were unheard, far too weak and too dry to utter even a gasp. Barely even a cough. But it was enough to catch the nearby ears, shadows of unknown figures rising above to block the light and rip out the planks of wood from above. It was blinding, the sunlight. Not a welcoming, morning red or a soothing, summer orange. No, it was white. Purely and hauntingly white. As if the afterlife bade them to come into the embrace of eternity. Only, they were hoisted up by reaching hooves instead, pulled out of the debris and black ash. Everywhere they turned, the brothers saw only blurred faces of their rescuers asking if they were all right. Neither spoke a word. They were too consumed with the world they once called home. Their grandfather came for them eventually, having found his son’s home—or what was left of it—and was not surprised to find his grandchildren there. He was shocked, but mostly thankful, to find them both alive, and he embraced them in such a way. He asked the same questions the rescuers did, caring for the colts’ safety above all else. And once more, they said nothing. When all that was left was a pale, ashy wasteland, with flakes of death constantly raining in what they used to call home, it was not unbecoming of them not to speak when spoken to. They were assuredly shaken to the core, and would undoubtedly need the proper time to recover. Yet it seemed all the brothers Cross and Shatter wanted to look at was Izunokuneigh. To really, truly take it all in if it was to be the last time. Hardly a single home remained structurally sound, as well as barely even a skeleton of a building left standing. The earth was flattened with mounds of desolation left, pillars of black smoke rising high. It looked as if a single cloud had fallen over Izunokuneigh, brightening the sun’s rays so that a phantom whiteness drenched what little air was left to breathe. For the air was pockmarked with flakes, ash and lingering embers from whatever fires were still left. In the distance, the remains of the creature lied like an ashen skeleton corroded against the earth, its legs jutted forth to the sky in a perpetual, frozen state of decrepit degradation. Gojira was nowhere to be found. He was gone, but his cruel act remained. With both brothers covered in soot and ash, they were finally raised to their hooves by their grandfather who gently checked their injuries. He never got too in depth, for the thick cloud hovering above the city finally broke, bringing forth the ferocity of the sun onto the survivors like a weighted, heated blanket. They flinched back accordingly, raising their forelegs in an effort to block the blinding rays. But the longer they waited, the more curious they became, and breaking through the blinding sun came the emergence of a grander airship tearing through the skies. It hovered down to the great wound dealt upon Neighpon, its engines roaring, turbines spinning so very fast to wash away the ash and smoke. Small groups of survivors stumbled forth out of the shadows and into light, gazing up to not only see one airship, but several. Dozens washing away the clouds and bringing forth the unfiltered light of the sun upon a cold and injured people. Ponies who were once lost, now called to. Ponies who had lost all, but would soon be rebuilt. For that was what the airships brought. That was who they were. I still remember… “Shatter, your flank…” Cross’ first words in what felt like ages, and he referred them to his younger brother’s rump. Though, not entirely. Not for the reasons that confused both Shatter and his grandfather. Instead, a different revelation dawned on them when the younger of the brothers was adorned with a never-before-seen cutie mark on his flank. Earning his before Cross. Though not showing his enthusiasm, Shatter nonetheless wiped away the soot to unveil it fully. And Shatter Heart almost couldn’t believe it when he saw it. For his cutie mark was not some abstract image or idea relating to a talent. Instead, his cutie mark was a symbol; the Neighponese symbol for family. It was not the only symbol he saw that day for the first time. For when he lifted his head back to the sky, back to the airships zeroing down to their location, all Shatter paid attention to in the blinding sun was that symbol upon the balloon of the airship. The image of Princess Celestia’s sun rising above the world they called home, with the letters “T.I.T.A.N.” adorning the world below. What came next should have been salvation. It should have been a swift and speedy recovery and retribution for what had been done to their home and their people. What really came next was unforgiveable. No… surviving was worse. The city was eventually rebuilt and the wounded were gratefully cared for. But the name of Izunokuneigh was buried, as well as the truth of its greatest disaster. Covered up and shown to the world as nothing more than a devastating earthquake. An earthquake… and the world believed it. What else had they to believe other than the words of the Bringer of the Sun? T.I.T.A.N. covered it up, but not just them. They were all in on it. The ruling powers, the kings and queens of the old world order, leaving us desperately unprepared for the coming new world order. Shatter and his brother fought for years to tell others the truth, but they were always ignored. Always silenced by their own government and even their own grandfather. He begged to them, pleaded that they not trifle in matters that were beyond their understanding. For years… we tried… but time took Grandfather away, and where did that leave us then? Time and patience and experience. That was what they had, as well as each other. That was all Cross and Shatter Heart needed and deserved. Instead of dissenters, they trained to be loyalists. Under the guise of warriors for the empire, they became warriors for their people, holding the truth and knowing the truth. They had both seen it with their own eyes. They witnessed Gojira lay waste to their home, even if to kill one beast. They both knew and understood that. Cross seemed to fade away from the truth after some time… believing he was on some path of recovery. That… after what happened with the Battle of the Three Kings… that was his excuse to believe anything other than the truth that was branded in our hearts that night. He wanted to move on. He wanted to change… He knew the truth. He saw the truth. Every night and in every nightmare. Godzilla was a monster that could never change. It was his nature to dominate, to desecrate, to bring his own order to an unruly and free world. That was why they chose to serve Neighpon’s T.I.T.A.N., proving their loyalty through years of training and service to the empire and its armies. Cross chose to focus on Neighpon’s defense forces. Shatter… I… led our T.I.T.A.N. to what it was always meant to be. I was to lead not only Neighpon but all the world into a peaceful and more secure future. That was what we could have done, what T.I.T.A.N. was capable of… Then I saw what kind of ruler Princess Celestia was. Shutting us down, leaving but a mere vapor of our strength left in the world while the rest of it moved to the shadows… or was destroyed. Our T.I.T.A.N. claimed the world could never know of what monsters lie below us. Equestria almost allowed the truth to be discovered… but they couldn’t have that, could they? They could not allow the free people of the world to know of the true evil we face. Celestia would not let that happen. She would not let us speak freely. She knew I had the will and power to change the world, and I still do! Mechagodzilla would have changed the world, and he was torn from me! Now, this demon runs rampant in our world doing everything my brother and I warned of, and they are surprised?! T.I.T.A.N. does not stand a chance against Godzilla, and the longer we continue to lie to ourselves and our people, the more assuredly doomed we are! T.I.T.A.N. was never for Shatter Heart. They tried to hide the truth. They tried to hide Godzilla’s true nature. Now, only he knew and understood that.