89I... it's done? Holy shit, it's DONE? It feels strange to say, but this really is the final chapter. This is the last I'll write of Viv n' San's Traumatic Adventures. Abraxas is finished... on my end, anyway. For anyone keeping up on my tumblr (or glanced through the Trivia page on TV Tropes), here is where I give the AbraxasVerse to anyone who wants to take a crack at it - whether it's drabbles, one-shots, rewriting the events of GvK, the Post-Abraxas Genocide Route or the Post-Abraxas Coexistence Route, if you've ever had a thought about how things can develop, go buck wild! And if not, then let me say thank you to everyone who's read Abraxas over the last two years. I only hope this is a satisfying conclusion to this long, strange journey. Thank you.
Also, if you'd like, give a track called "Faraway Promise" from Xenogears a listen on YouTube at the chapter's end.
ᛞ
"Þat er þá reynt,
er þú at rúnum spyrr
inum reginkunnum,
þeim er gerðu ginnregin
ok fáði fimbulþulr,
þá hefir hann bazt, ef hann þegir."
"That is now proved,
what you asked of the runes,
of the potent famous ones,
which the great gods made,
and the mighty sage stained,
that it is best for him if he stays silent."
—Hávamál
Berezniki, Russia
Manda is eager to leave for home; too much excitement, too noisy and scary; and Monster X would like nothing more than to leave this place behind, but the deaths of Thor and San-Who-Could-Have-Been stays their feet. It almost doesn't seem real. Memories come flooding back to them — from her, the post-MUTO ruins of San Francisco; from him, entire civilizations ground down to dust and scattered into the wind. The silence doesn't bother him, but what does is the fact that Thor, someone he knew, is gone. Even if Thor would never forgive his past crimes, he was still a teacher, and the San half doesn't know how to cope with the loss. The Vivienne half wonders if they could have gotten through to the left head sooner, if he'd been separated from those hateful brothers and come into their care, what kind of differences he'd have to distinguish him from her San. Manda nibbles at a silvery mandible to get their attention.
Sorry. A lot has happened. Can I ask for a little more patience?
Manda harrumphs and climbs up the length of their body to settle himself on their shoulders, so as to ensure his fused mother and uncle don't vanish on him again.
Berezniki's remains are strangely beautiful, steam still rising up from the grounds turned molten glass after the sheer thermonuclear heat from Godzilla and Mothra's finishing blast. It might be a very long time before anyone can safely set foot here; Monster X can smell the radiation and see how the heat distorts the air to create mirages. That, coupled with daybreak's light reflecting off the glassed earth colors the steam and mirages in rainbow mist, gives the destruction a certain entrancing quality.
The Titans are each resting or tending to their injuries; Monster X keeps their distance from the MUTO Queen (she had no part in Janjira, but the half that's still Vivienne still recalls the casualties from that night). They find themselves drawn to Methuselah, whose movements are slow with either exhaustion or contemplation, it's hard to tell with his cloudy eyes. He sifts his nose through the rubble that hasn't been burned away, digs his claws in search of something. Eventually he finds what he'd been looking for.
Thor's broken mask.
There's a dull stab of pain in Monster X's chest. They — she begins to wonder, would he still be alive if they hadn't been captured by Elder Brother? If they'd been smarter, or faster? If they hadn't spent so much time feasting on Ghidorah's insides and focused more on getting out? But, the San half reasons, they might not have been as strong if they hadn't eaten, and Ghidorah would have escaped if they weren't consuming its meat from the inside-out. Consume the enemy's flesh to claim the enemy's strength.
Without thinking they approach Methuselah, only stopping when he kicks up dirt in a warning swipe of his claws. Right; she remembers Mark telling her about what giant anteaters can do with their claws, and Monster X backs off to avoid getting punched through their throat, makes a mental note to exhibit similar caution if they ever run into Behemoth (not for fear of fatal injuries, but because getting fish hooked through the neck with claws like that and pulling them out just sounds annoying). Manda hisses in response and lifts his tail, in the small animal way of back-sassing a predator for daring to snap at his parent. Methuselah's nostrils flare and snort as he takes in the dark Titan's scent.
Take care you do not approach from the blind side. His 'voice' is a low and chthonic, graveyard rattle. Right. He probably can't see very well. I smell you on the mask. Did you know the Thunderer?
Yes.
Used to be a time when you rarely ever saw a red Thunderer like him. He was easy to spot even with my eyes, not like the others who blended in with the mountains. His own colors made him an easy target, and so he adapted. I think I once saw one of the Alpha's kind, white as a snowy mountain... that was a frightening sight. Thought that one was a ghost or spirit, like what the People spoke of! Sounded like one, too! But it may have been a trick of that one, like how the Red Thunderer had to fight differently from his own kind. Have to be tough and clever when your own colors work against you.
Delicately, Monster X reaches out to trace a claw along the stone mask. Do you know why he wore a mask?
Not just him — it was their way. Who can say why? Perhaps to be more like the People or to appear fearsome, but it was not my business to know. Now that secret has gone with him. Why do you wear a mask?
I'm not...?
Monster X looks at him questioningly, and makes their way towards the Kama River; for the first time they can see their new face. Even without the natural distortions of the reflection, it's a frightening visage — the expressionless skull face with heterochromic eyes peering out from deep within large eye sockets, as if they'd taken a hollowed out skull and worn it like a helmet. With a few curious tugs they find it's stuck tight to their skin, an exoskeletal layer of armor no different from the rest of their body. No wonder Ghidorah called them Executioner. They look like a demon.
Manda on the other hand is ever so puzzled as to why there's another him and another mama-uncle in the water, continuing to peer at their reflection even while Monster X steps away from it.
It's not a mask, they tell Methuselah. This is my face.
Your face is death. For a thing like the Enemy to see it is to die.
Better than being called ugly. Methuselah slumps down to rest with a pained, exhausted groan in much the same way an older man would collapse onto his favorite chair after a long day of back-breaking work, stretches his limbs to pop the kinks out. Again, she is taken back to that morning in San Francisco, seeing Godzilla so tired and sluggish after waking up from his post-victory collapse; they look away to behold the dark saurian — amazing how he has grown more energized in spite of his tremendous age, and with Mothra dozing off on his head like a ridiculous hat, he almost seems more youthful. Perhaps that is one more thing to thank Serizawa for.
Monster X picks up the broken mask and stares at it for a moment, brushes off dust with a thumb. Little nicks and chips dot the mask, some more recent and others many thousands of years old. The last proof of its owner's existence, the last living Thunderer burned away into glass. But it's a small comfort that Ghidorah never claimed Thor's head, and wherever it is that Thor's soul will go — if it goes anywhere at all — then Ghidorah can never follow it.
Manda sniffs the mask curiously, then stands on his hindquarters to look around for the owner. He's not even a few days old and Monster X already has to throw the concept of mortality at him; but, the San half reminds her, some don't get to live as long as Manda so far has, and some die without being truly born. To worry about teaching a little one of death is a human concern.
Where? Manda chirps. Fuzzy red one. He go away?
He's... gone. He's dead.
But just saw him! Manda glares at them indignantly. Why did he die?
Monster X sighs. Because everything dies one day. Some get eaten by a hungry predator, others go by accident, and some just get too sick or old. It's not always fair and sometimes it could've been fixed, but no one lives forever. That's just the way it goes.
Manda is quiet for a long while. Monster X leaves the city ruins only until the radioactive smell fades away, and carefully places the mask off to the side of a road as a makeshift grave marker. This way people can keep a safe distance away from any residual radiation that won't get absorbed by the Titans, and visit the mask to keep Thor's memory alive. Monster X is surprised by a question from Manda.
Will I die? Will you?
Manda shudders, probably reminded of that moment where he was face-to-face with a frightening monster that would've killed and eaten him if Monster X had been slower. They remove him from their shoulder so they can look him in the eye.
One day... we will die. One day. But only if we let it catch up with us. I'll show you how to be quick and clever and strong, when to run and when to fight. And a day will come when you'll be bigger than me, and then death won't be nearly so scary.
Manda clicks thoughtfully. Eventually he stretches his neck out and bumps their heads together.
Not so scary now. Manda trills out what almost sounds like a laugh. Mama and uncle are more scary!
A guffaw barks from Monster X's throat.
From an article written by Steve Martin, 6/1/2020:
"...all that is left is half of his mask. It has been tested extensively and shown to carry no sign of dormant infection, and so has been left at the sight of the battle as a monument to the lives lost to end the second coming of Ghidorah. In a first since the Titans' emergence in 2014, the Russian Ground Forces have recognized the death of a Titan who has only recently returned to the world; in recognition of his warrior's spirit and arguably a very human sacrifice he made, the RGF and Monarch's military volunteers have given Titanus Þunraz a full 21-gun salute.
Meanwhile, the victors are not resting on their laurels — though the immediate threat has been eradicated, Monarch and the RGF are taking necessary precautions while investigating the surrounding areas, chasing the possibility that remnants of the Many are in hiding and that missing persons cases may be connected. Both have released public requests for full cooperation from the populace, to ensure what has happened to Berezniki is never repeated again.
Visual recordings of the battle at Berezniki, or at least all that's available, are uploaded for public viewing at the Monarch Science official website..."
Search results under #berezniki, #monarch
Comments:
BlogoftheGargantuas
[Embedded: Link to Steve Martin article.]
Well, that was new... and scary. Here's hoping everyone in the area is staying safe. Guys, if you know anyone who lives in the Perm Krai territory, can I ask that you keep everyone up to date on anything that goes on? Because seriously, this is some freaky shit.
RampantDurandal
i want to not be surprised that zombies happened in a world of aliens and giant radioactive fire breathing dinosaurs and yet
GoGoGodzilla
Really sucks to see thor bite it. gonna miss that fuzzball. o7
BabushkaGetYourAxe
Made an account after everything that happened. Lots of people from Solikamsk have evacuated the area, including my family. Hard to believe Berezniki is gone. We keep telling each other things will be okay. We survived wars, the Bolsheviks, the Nazis, the Mass Awakening, the neighborhood weirdoes, we'll survive this. But I'm still scared. Many of us only just got back on our feet and got back to normal after last year.
WaywardSon
Might not sound like much from some rando but i know the feeling. do you guys have a place to stay?
BabushkaGetYourAxe
We found a hotel. The place is packed and everyone is so tense. There's a young couple in the room next door with a baby. Everyone is doing what they can. I'm not used to this but we've set up a GoFundMe page as a precaution.
[Embedded: GoFundMe link.]
BlogoftheGargantuas
You heard the babushka, folks.
ZekeStrahm
Stupid question, but why does a babushka have an axe?
BabushkaGetYourAxe
In case a cat is stuck up a tree. Also murder cannibal hotel managers.
ZekeStrahm
I—
GoGoGodzilla
[Animated gif of John Mulaney, "Kid Gorgeous" Netflix Special, subtitled: "Now we don't have time to unpack all of that!"]
Search results under #monster x, #titanus abraxas
Comments:
HiDadI'mBoi
On the subject of zombies, anyone get a load of the new and improved Monster X? Looks like it came out of a 90's comic or a metal album cover.
WaywardSon
Never woulda guessed graham was into the edgelord look
HumanityHellYeah
It looks like the Grim Fucking Reaper. Calling it now, it's going to start the apocalypse.
MonarchRickTheSlick
Yes, yes, the big Spooky Scary Skeleton monster shall hold dominion over all given enough time. The adults are talking, sweetie.
BlogoftheGargantuas
Titan-deniers aside, it looks pretty cool. Rodan seems to like it based on what's happening at Yonaguni.
snacctiem
Aren't he & monster X like raising a baby together or?
HiDadI'mBoi
Wait... are Monster X and Rodan... doing the do?
GoGoGodzilla
CALL THE BBC! CALL DAVID ATTENBOROUGH! CALL OZZY MAN! CALL CASUAL GEOGRAPHIC!
ZekeStrahm
[Image macro: Charlie from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia with Rodan's head photoshopped onto Santa Claus, captioned "DID YOU FUCK MONSTER X?!"]
MonarchRickTheSlick
You fucking people.
OfficialMothra
[Video link: /watch?v=████████████████████. Video description: Monster X footage set to bass-boosted "Spooky Scary Skeletons".]
ThereIsOnlyTheEmprah
We went from Titan zombies to Titan sex. This thread is a trainwreck.
fisjhystick
good to know that giant monsters get more action than humanityhellyeah amirite
HumanityHellYeah
I will fucking dox you.
BanHamma (Admin)
GOOD HEAVENS, LOOK AT THE TIME! *BONK*
User HumanityHellYeah has been banned
Yonaguni
It must have been the best sleep they've had in a very long time; the deep and dreamless, easily found sleep of the totally exhausted. Though their muscles don't ache as much, there's still a satisfying tingle. They yawn hugely and rub the crust from their eyes; Manda chirps at them from the water, dives under with dolphin-like speed. It takes considerable effort for Monster X to drag themselves, still half-asleep, towards the ocean waters for a quick soak, stretching the stiffness out of their limbs.
They don't go too deep, though. Half of them still doesn't like being in water any deeper than they are tall. Their eyes shut reflexively when seawater sprays them in the face, followed by a mirthful trill, and in playful retaliation they fold both hands to form a makeshift pump or blowhole to fire back at Manda. Not that the little one minds, of course — he just uses his tail to propel him into a spin to spray more water at his mama-uncle, which leads to a brief game of chase. Manda's size and build makes him a slippery target, though Monster X has the advantage of greater size allowing them to keep up. Their play has to be cut short though, once Monster X's horns pick up the telltale buzz of a radio signal somewhere in the water; probably from a fishing vessel or something similar.
Manda whines in protest. Just started!
Monster X nods in faux solemnity. We have to be careful with people around. Look. They point towards the white shape of a boat on the horizon, then to the nearby beaches. We're both so big we can easily hurt them, or worse.
Manda clicks. Could they hurt us?
They can try, pesky little things, but only if we give them reason to. Think of them as neighbors, like Godzilla or Rodan. If we don't bother them they'll leave us alone, but if we get in the way or break something they'll get mad at us. But it might be fine to get close as long as we're careful, and if you do something like protect them from something bad, they'll remember it.
Manda mulls over this lesson with a quiver of the short, nubby tendrils at his jaw. Aside from the nicks he got from apparently catching a falling Osprey before it crashed into him, he's never been on the receiving end of human weaponry and has no real reason to think any of them would want to hurt him, or why Monster X (back when they had two heads) would be so anxious over him meeting Ren. But it will sink in over time. Monster X suddenly has a thought; they'd like to somehow thank Ford for telling them Susan's current situation using more than words.
Actually, would you like to meet someone?
Manda makes a curious sound. Who?
My mother.
You have a mother too? Manda gapes up at them, his amber eyes huge, and Monster X laughs.
I do! It feels good to be certain that Susan is alive; more than good, their chest swells with warmth and their mouth breaks into a smile of palpable relief. There's still time to reconnect... but their smile falters when they remember she might not be around much longer after her heart attack. Their chest tightens. It's fortunate that Manda gets so excitable because that means there's no time to waste, not when the little one's eager to essentially meet his grandmother.
Of course, now they have to remember where exactly Ford said the hospital was.
Hatoma Island, northwest of Ishigaki
Godzilla crocodile crawls ashore on a quiet beach to bask in the sun after enjoying a long post-battle rest in the depths. Part of him had hoped to not have to fight in such a battle, much less with the abomination Ghidorah and the Many have become so soon after the previous chaos, but what's done is done. To dwell on past events is a human conceit, and indulging in it will only cause distraction. Still, even he himself has ghosts that sneak up on him in quiet moments, and he's found himself sad to see Thor's passing. Both of them are the very last of their kind, and now the Thunderer has gone to follow the path of all his kind; leaving Godzilla and others like him behind. Were he younger, Godzilla might have called out to the sea every now and then, just in case a fellow of his species has survived Ghidorah's bloody campaign — and he would be disappointed to receive no response. He has heard such calls like that from lonely creatures like him, looking for mates or companionship, always crying out at intervals for anyone: Where are you? Is anyone there? Please answer. Please, please answer. I don't want to be alone.
He grumbles to himself. He's not a young bull anymore, too old for such things to bother him now, and he is hardly the last living creature in this world. There are more present matters to concern himself with, like seeking out a new nest to dwell in so his wounds might properly be healed before some other creature claims it for themselves, provided beings like Scylla or others can stay out of trouble long enough for him to get a good sleep in. Fortunately Monster X will be more than enough to keep Rodan in check.
There's an approaching sound of wings on the air and he breathes a little easier in the presence of his Queen. She nuzzles his blunt snout, her fur and antennae causing his nostrils to itch.
The Two Who are One are on the move, she informs him, and Godzilla thrums attentively. They've just passed us on their way east with little Manda... just to visit their mother, so you need not worry about disciplining them.
Going to see a parent? The idea is a warm-blooded one foreign to him — Godzilla hasn't seen his own mother since he and the survivors of his clutch grew large enough to fend for themselves, and he'd been aware of his father, or at least one who he suspects was his father based on how his mother would glance toward a certain bull saurian in the distance. The People had called that one "Dagon" or "Raijin" and worshipped him as some great spirit, but he fell victim to the Unclean Thing that birthed the Parasites. If Godzilla had been younger, perhaps he'd think of crushing that fiend underfoot to be like avenging a father he never knew beyond curious peeps from a hatchling.
They've a title already, Godzilla notes as Mothra crawls up his back and begins preening at him. Didn't take long for the People to name them. Always with the names.
They have several names, Mothra chimes and Godzilla snorts, because of course humans would pile such things on an usual creature like Monster X. When she lists them, the sounds come out as though from a great flute, which only emphasizes Godzilla's opinion that names are pretty but useless; it doesn't help that he probably can't pronounce most of them. He grunts, feeling something get pulled out from between his plates, and a chunk of cinder block thumps onto the sand.
You always make such a mess of yourself after a scrap, Mothra chides him.
You know I can't reach back there!
Yes, yes... she sooths the exposed ache with her long tongue, gives him a playful jab. But that just means I can make you beautiful again.
Godzilla snorts. And who, pray tell, am I supposed to be impressing?
Me, of course.
That's not so difficult. All it takes is a little flash.
Mothra makes a tutting sort of noise. All that does is distract me from fixing you up! Every time we meet again, there's another scratch on my king.
Have to keep the rambunctious young ones in check. Godzilla pulses a gentle blue; not to tease her, but in a show that he is comfortable in her presence and that he feels at peace. Mothra digs out more and more pieces of shrapnel that have been caught in his plates and irritated him for a while. He glows happily.
Her work completed, Mothra flops down to lie on his head, her wings covering his eyes. Godzilla blinks at the eye spots.
You're in my light, dearest.
I am your light. Now do hold still, it's my turn to loaf about.
Godzilla huffs and tilts his head to slide her off so that she rests under him. He sniffs at her fur and as thanks for clearing up his armor plating begins to return the favor, grooming Mothra with careful licks and nibbles. Her antennae flutter, pleased, and Mothra melts under his attentions, letting out a sighing trill.
She asks him, weren't you supposed to go find a new nest?
Not until I've made you beautiful again.
Ishigaki
Monster X's arrival is heralded by a fluctuation of power. The island's Titan warning system can't seem to decide whether their presence warrants an emergency response or not, blaring for a few seconds and then shutting off for a minute and then blaring again, like a phone alarm constantly being swiped to snooze. But Monster X is evidently trying to stay out of anyone's way, so people are encouraged to err on the side of caution; stay indoors and avoid the windows, basically treat it like a tornado.
Elle's been keeping Susan abreast of current events as she recovers, and while scrolling through her phone bites back a grin over a recent video post from right here on the island. Apparently either Ford didn't give Monster X a specific location or they simply forgot where to go, because some poor sap somewhere on the island had gotten the shit shocked out of him by a Titan delicately tiptoeing through town and literally asking for directions; she leans over Susan's bed to show her.
The footage had been shot from some distance away by a cameraman wheezing with shock or laughter while capturing Monster X bowing their terrifying skull head and pointing at various civilians, static bursts of Japanese crackling here and there, trying to get information out of anyone still capable of speech — and all the while a little blue baby dragon crawls all over Monster X's body looking like a puppy excited to see so many people. Thanks to the English captions they get the gist of what's being said: "Excuse me, sorry— please stop screaming— I need directions? I'm looking for... oi! Manda, no! No playing with the cars! Bad! I'm so sorry — HOSPITAL! Where's there a hospital?" There's a beat, followed by an unimpressed "If we're going to have a conversation you really need to stop screaming at me."
"Well, at least we know you've got a visitor on the way," Elle quips.
Still, despite the humor, Susan worries over why Monster X has only one head now. It's a question that doesn't have to linger for long though, as tremors begin to shake the building and people outside her room start to panic, but she stays calm once the portable radio on her bedside table starts humming. She's been keeping up with the news as much as her health will allow and is terribly anxious to see Vivienne again... and San, too. Vivienne and San. She has to keep remembering that in getting her daughter back she unexpectedly got a son of sorts as well. A flying electricity-spitting reptilian son from another planet. Quite a package deal, that.
A nurse bursts into her room just as a dark mass appears at the window adjacent to Susan's bed, chasing the radio signal; the nurse starts babbling in a panic over evacuating the building, though Susan and Elle both try to convey through their extremely limited Japanese that it's fine, everything's fine, the Titan comes in peace.
"Excuse me!" two voices squeal out of the radio, cutting everyone off. The entire hospital goes silent. "I'm just visiting my mother! I'd sign a form if I could!" A skull face lowers down peering through the windows, and upon spotting an expectant Susan, a smirking Elle and a flabbergasted nurse, Monster X points a claw at the old woman then to themselves. "Okaasan?" they try, as if hoping the old woman by some freakish miracle bears some vague resemblance to a giant skeleton monster, or at least doesn't feel too offended by the idea.
The nurse sputters in defeat and decides she's not getting paid enough for this nonsense, leaving the room. Susan just smiles, not having the energy to laugh; the last time she did it ended in a coughing fit that left a coppery taste in the back of her throat.
"Mum?" Monster X starts quietly. "Are you...?"
"I'm breathing and Death hasn't come over for tea yet," Susan cracks. "I'm fine."
Elle bites down on her tongue. It was too close a call for her liking, and if they stayed on that Osprey maybe a minute longer things would be very different. Susan's recovered from her heart attack, but she doesn't look well — and Monster X's new morbid appearance feels too much like an omen for her taste. She sadly looks at Susan again, considers how the poor old bird seems to have aged a decade. No, she doesn't look well at all.
"Good. That's... that's good." The dark Titan gnaws on their lower lip, eyes darting down then back up, brightening. "So, mum, I thought you'd like to meet someone."
Monster X lifts up Manda for him to peer in through the window, Elle and Susan making a surprised sound when his blue snout sniffs at the window frame, his breaths fogging up the glass.
"Ta-da," Monster X sing-songs. "Say hello to your grandson! His name's Manda."
"This guy here?" Elle lifts up the window and reaches out a hand for Manda to sniff, and the baby Titan chirps happily recognizing a familiar scent. His snout nuzzles into her palm and Elle coos adoringly at him. "Ford told me about you! You saved my husband!"
"Oh! Vivienne, he's a darling!" Susan manages a light giggle when Manda pushes the tip of his nose into the window and flicks his tongue at Elle. With the baby taking up all the attention, Susan can only look at the radio playfully. "Is he Godzilla's boy, or...?"
Monster X is audibly flustered. "He's adopted, thank you very much."
"I'm only asking. You know, people are starting to talk about you and that Rodan boy..."
"What? What about Rodan and I?"
"I'll tell you later." Susan laughs at Manda's curious peeping, weakly holding up her hand for his inquisitive snuffle. "It figures. You're forty-three and single and it only took you coming back from the dead to give me a grandchild."
"Didn't even have to twist my arm, either." Monster X pauses. "Also, I'm forty-four."
"What?"
"I was born in '76, it's 2020. I'm forty-four years old. Remember?"
Susan is quiet for a moment, counting the years in her head. That's right, Vivienne would be that age by now. Hadn't she spent an entire month in Vivienne's room around the time of her birthday? Right, she did. Of course.
"Half of you is forty-four," Susan points out, and the Titan chuckles. Monster X laughs harder when Manda makes an observant squeak at Susan. "What did he say?"
"That you are very, very small."
"Yes, yes, lord it over me, why don't you."
"Hey, so would it be okay if I gave you guys some privacy?" Elle suddenly asks. "It'll be awkward with me in the corner, but I'll be right outside just in case, so..."
Both Susan and Monster X give her the go-ahead and Elle steps out of the room, and barely avoids getting trampled by a growing throng of admirers rushing out to get pictures of Manda. Once the little Titan lowers himself back on all fours to peek into the other windows, Monster X takes his place. It's hard to tell under the skull helmet, but it looks like their mouth is smiling; though with the two different eye colors, Susan finds herself unsure of which eye to focus on.
"Vivienne, I know you're in there. But what about San? What happened to him?"
Monster X blinks and turns their head so that the left red eye is in focus; a deeper, masculine voice comes through the radio. "I'm right here. With her."
"In one head? How is that possible?"
"It's how this body works. Our heads were blown in half." The San half feels a little awkward at the horrified look on Susan's face; maybe he shouldn't be so blunt about these things, but he can't understand why. Details are important to express the whole picture. "Since there wasn't anything left of the halves we lost to stick back together, and there were two perfectly good halves at the ready, we just... fused together."
A beat. It takes a while for Susan to let the information sink in.
"How does that work?" she asks. "Are you like split personalities?"
"I am two, and we are one."
"That tells me less than nothing."
This time Vivienne's voice filters in to help San. "We... that is, the two of us... it's like we're a single being with a single mind, but... there's two of us in here. I am two, and we are one. The Two Who are One, if you will. Or maybe..." Monster X scratches their chin, mandibles flexing thoughtfully. "Imagine yin and yang."
Susan nods. "All right..."
Once more San's voice takes prominence. "Vivienne is yin and San is yang. Two, separate, different sides of a coin. But we interconnect, we are complementary... siblings set an example. So I grow to be better because of her, and she becomes more ferocious because of me. There is a little of us in each other even when we're in two heads, so when the two become one..."
Monster X claps their hands, fingers folding together as if in prayer. Susan draws an invisible circle on her blanket with a finger, nods in some understanding. She glances up and finds the red eye observing the room's interior.
"Are you sick?" Monster X, or San, asks out of nowhere.
"No. Why?"
"Hospitals are for the sick and hurt. You're in a hospital. Heard you had an attack."
Susan opts against boring him with the technicalities, plus she's not even sure if she can recall all the details for herself. So she settles with the simple answer of, "I'm old."
"Old." A pause, then his voice turns tremulous. "I... sister was very scared for you. You're going to die?"
"Eventually."
"But that's not fair! You only just met Manda! Only just met me not that long ago!"
Vivienne's gentle voice chimes in. "Remember what we said? Sometimes things aren't always fair."
"But..." One of Monster X's hands rises to their face, fingers sliding along the right side. The red eye looks at Susan. "What if I..."
"No." Susan's tone is firm, but at the same time breathy with weariness. "We aren't meant to live nearly so long. I'm already too old, San. I have seen the years and loved and lost. All the things you've done and seen in the past, and what the future has in store... it's too big for me. Vivienne fits the adventure life better than I ever could. I think I'd be happy to go peacefully."
"But—" San's voice breaks a little with a petulant undertone. "I don't want you to go. Neither of us do."
"I know. But if you were to do to me what was done to Vivienne, what difference would there be between us and those horrible Many creatures?"
The Titan goes silent. San could go off on the multitude of differences; from the fact that both halves retain their individualities, their personalities and memories, to how they wouldn't go running around absorbing anything in their path, to this or that... but his own reasonings ring hollow because, in essence, they would just be denying Susan's wishes by adding an unwilling soul to their body just to satisfy his own craving for a maternal figure.
His voice is thick, the red eye watering. "Must it be this way?"
Susan sighs.
"Yes. It must be. I'm not going to drop dead in the next minute. But if I could delay the end a while longer, I could. It's just that so much of me is..." she trails off. "I'm forgetting too many things. I just forgot my own daughter's birthday. I've spent too long dwelling on the past." She takes a time-worn notebook from the bedside table and flips through the pages, looking for a particular passage that she somehow remembers struck a chord inside her late husband. It only seems appropriate to share it now.
"An adventurous man once said, 'The function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.' So please, for however long I have left, son, let me use my time."
The Titan's breath hitches.
"...son?"
It sounds like he doesn't want to believe it, and Susan isn't entirely sure she meant for "San" to come out as "son." But something in his voice causes her heart to ache and her eyes to burn, maternal instincts breathing life into her as if she'd heard a lost child crying. Shakily, she reaches out a pale hand towards the window. Monster X — San hesitates. It seemingly takes a bit of internal encouragement from Vivienne for him to lift a finger and, delicately as he can, insert it through the window just enough to feel Susan grasp the tip.
Warm, for so small a thing.
"I—" Distortion garbles San's voice, and he hiccoughs. "I think... stupid thing to say. Never thought I would want to be small before. Small like sister used to be, and stand inside there."
"The most unfair thing of all," Susan says, and he sighs in agreement. She tries to imagine Monster X standing over five feet tall instead of a hundred and thirty, what San might look like. Perhaps, if he's Vivienne's brother, he'd look like Susan's late husband... but she chokes on a sob when the mental image of him is like a damaged old photograph, a filmy blur where his face would be. She releases his claw to rub at her temple.
"Can you help me remember what your father looked like? I can't seem to..." San makes a helpless noise, and of course he would. It's not like he could've seen the man himself. Susan inhales sharply. "Just a moment, just let me think..."
A beat.
"He..." San's uncertain tone is whisper soft and seems distracted, as if searching for something. "Vivienne looked just like him. Remember?"
Susan stares at the skull face.
He keeps going, his red eye lighting up a little, having found what he'd been looking for. "Sharp face. Witch nose. Dark hair — black, or brown, messy like it wasn't combed. Eyes were... brownish? But they turned green in the light... oh! Hazel! And they crinkled in the corners when smiling, and the way the mouth smiled was like sunshine!"
He grows more confident the more he goes, and despite the exoskeletal helmet lacking in expression everything else compensates for it; his hands gesticulate in an almost Italian fashion, voice coming out clearer and tripping over the odd word in his exuberance, big red eye gleaming like a giant ruby. It's... familiar, and comforting. The picture in Susan's mind starts to fill in the blanks — he would look like Vivienne, wouldn't he? The shape of his face and eyes, but the hair and clothes would be different, of course. Short hair, or long and styled in a topknot or tail, as is fashionable with young men these days. Clean shaven, so when he smiles you can see his laugh lines and crow's feet at his bright eyes...
Part of Susan wonders when she stopped imagining her husband and is instead visualizing what her son could look like.
Monarch Outpost [REDACTED], Pensacola, Florida
Two months after Berezniki
Brooks takes a short break from overseeing the new outpost's construction to open up his laptop, contact his wife and keep her abreast of things. His eyebrows lift at a new item in his inbox from Dr. Ilene Andrews over at Skull Island; it looks like the place is starting to experience some strange tectonic activity and the Iwi are apparently growing nervous. He looks through the pictures taken of hieroglyphics found in a certain cavern the indigenous people refuse to approach and notices a drawing of a giant bat. It's almost definitely a rendition of Camazotz, the bat-like destroyer Titan that rampaged through San Diego during the Mass Awakening, and a knot grows in his stomach. It be time for him to make a return trip to that island. Brooks types up an email to send his wife and share suspicions with her.
Soon after, he notices a familiar voice talking with someone outside and glances up, sees a security guard pointing out his location to who else but Mark Russell. Brooks hadn't expected to see him again so soon after the battle at Berezniki, but it was bound to happen sooner or later following Mark sending a formal request to resume working at Monarch. It might be good for Mark to come back — he may not be popular, but recent events have had a positive influence on him. Hopefully this will allow him to step out of the shadows from last year and stand on his own merits, assuming he keeps his temper in check. Finishing up the letter and sending it out, Brooks locks his laptop and steps away from his table to greet Mark's approach.
"Hey. I'm surprised to see you here," Brooks says with a wry smile. "We just keep running into each other, don't we?"
Mark shrugs. "We're actually moving here. Maddie doesn't like the humidity, but there's not much point in hiding away in the mountains anymore, not after everything that just happened. I thought about enrolling her into a public school so she can at least enjoy a bit of normalcy while she still can."
"Mark, I'm not sure that's a good idea. You know people are still talking about Emma, right?"
"That's what Madison said, but I figured that was just her parroting crap she's been hearing from some conspiracy theory podcast. They're really still talking about what Emma's done? Even after Monster X taking up the spotlight?"
Brooks gives him a serious look. "Let's just say that if Madison were to attend public school and her classmates find out she's the daughter of a genocidal madwoman — their words — then she'll be lucky if no one comes after her with pitch forks and torches, and I doubt even teachers will be understanding. What if someone tries to knife her? Or god forbid, bring a gun to school? You know what kind of vindictive little bastards school kids can be. She'll be a pariah."
Mark noticeably deflates. Brooks sighs, stands up from his folding chair to properly address him.
"I get it," he says. "From a father to a father, I really do. Madison deserves to enjoy herself, experience some normalcy while she's still young."
Mark half-whispers, "After how Emma raised her, I don't know if normal is even an option anymore. Or if she even wants to be normal."
"So talk with her. Any healthy relationship needs mutual communication. No 'my house, my rules' stuff, just..." Brooks trails off when he sees Madison open the tent flap and peer inside; Mark spins around, startled, but Brooks nods at the young teen. "Hey, Madison. What's up?"
"We've got company," she says. "Someone from Apex Cybernetics showed up at the gate."
This time Brooks' face matches the surprised expression on Mark's. "Why on earth would Apex...?"
Madison shrugs. "I don't know, just that she wants to talk. You might want to hurry, Dr. Brooks, she seems the type who hates being kept waiting. She's over at the big tent."
Brooks fluffs his blazer and pats Mark's shoulder, the two accompanying Madison to the meeting area and wondering what to expect from the representative. Things have been pretty crazy after the one-day war to wipe out the Many — cleanup, Castle Bravo under quarantine, investigations held throughout the Perm Krai region of Russia, keeping Nadezhda and her fellow refugees safe in preparation for when they go into labor, Mariko finally standing trial for her part in causing so many deaths at Outpost 58 alongside Tejada seeing some long-awaited comeuppance for her terrorist activities — more uncertainties than he'd like. He just hopes the surprise visit from a representative of Apex Cybernetics will throw them all a bone. He figures it's inevitable they'd cross paths eventually with Apex having a facility of their own in the area. From what Madison inferred it can't be the head honcho himself, Director Walter Simmons, and Brooks can't imagine a man like that will want to get his suit dirty chatting in the foundation of a new outpost under construction.
As it turns out, it's not the Simmons, but rather a Simmons. The director's only daughter Maia waits silently in the tent, an attractive young woman in business-casual attire flanked by a huge brick wall of a bodyguard, stony face and shades and all. If not for the no-nonsense attitude she carries, she'd be out of place among the G-Team members and Monarch operatives — hell, she looks like someone Ren might get along with, both sharing a sort of resting don't-fuck-with-me face.
Brooks decides to follow Madison's impression of Maia's personality, keeps the pleasantries and prefacing short. He's almost relieved by a polite smile spreading on her face as she offers her hand for him to shake. Not a bad grip, he notes when shaking her hand. He was kind of worried she'd either have a dainty limp fish grip or her hand would turn into an iron vice for the sake of intimidation. Maybe that's partly what her bodyguard is there for. He doesn't notice the way Madison's eyes narrow at the older woman.
At Ren's turn shaking hands, he says, "If you don't mind me saying, I'm surprised your father isn't here as well."
Maia shrugs. "He always encouraged independence. But just between us, the old man really likes to hear himself talk. If it was up to him he'd just throw out his sales pitch and toss money at the problem without hearing what anyone has to say. He may be my father and my elder, but he could stand to act like it once in a while."
"Not a man who gracefully accepts criticism?" The corner of Ren's mouth curves into a smirk.
"He'll say he is of an open mind and is willing to hear criticism, then in the same breath say that's stupid and you're stupid." Maia pauses while chuckles break out around the tent, her posture straightening as she rests both hands on her hips. "I prefer to keep an open ear, which brings us straight to the point of this visit..." Her bodyguard produces a manila folder and places it in Maia's ready hand. The young mega-corporation heiress strides up to the foldup table in the center, waves the folder in a semi-circle.
"Apex wants to collaborate with Monarch," Maia declares.
A beat.
Everyone exchanges surprised glances.
"Well, uh... that's a first," Brooks observes. "It wasn't too long ago that people wanted our heads on pikes. Can Apex afford to associate itself with us?"
"We can," Maia responds. "When the whole world was baying for blood, Monarch was considered crazy for wanting to protect the Titans, even pleading for coexistence. Fortunately, Apex — and fortune — favors the bold, and we've always had a soft spot for ideas that are so crazy they just might work, and what could be crazier than siding with the infamous monster supporters?"
Here Maia leans over to lay her folder on the center table, drawing Ren's attention not only to the files inside but also to the dip in her shirt collar showing just a hint of generous cleavage. He maintains a straight face while opening the folder.
"I want to start small, give you a taste of what we can offer," Maia continues, all clear intonation and confidence. "APEX has multiple divisions working on this or that project, and this comes from a recent development we were originally planning on pitching to the U.S. military."
Inside the folder are a series of preliminary designs of combat armor, fashioned to resemble a mix between contemporary battle dress uniforms and something reminiscent of medieval plate armor, alongside a comparison against what a modern soldier would wear. Ren leans forward with interest, his engineering side piqued and already thinking of ways this could work — flexible plating with even weight distribution to allow for more efficient speed and mobility, maybe an insulated inner outfit, lead lining for radiation; even the helmet with gas mask offers a balance between protection, practicality, and just enough intimidation factor. Foster takes her turn through the notes while Ren and Brooks look at blueprints for a vehicle prototype.
"I definitely wouldn't say no to improved gear for my soldiers," she says, but looks up at Maia with some suspicion. "What's the catch?"
Maia smiles. "Smart. Always expect a catch, especially when something this good falls in your lap. But in all seriousness, these are mostly just plans to improve the defenses of standard infantry in a new age. Your current gear will do fine against normal human threats, but the world isn't normal anymore. When Titans are involved, dozens or hundreds of people will die. Fatigues and Kevlar simply aren't anywhere near enough."
"Don't I know it," Ford mutters to himself. Militaries can only rely on the standard equipment for so long before things begin to stagnate, and the pretentious pessimist in him has to admit, what is human history but a perpetual arms race to constantly innovate new protection followed by new weapons to pierce through it? And in light of the Many, how long will it be before a similar threat rears its ugly head? Just one of Monarch's mobile task forces got completely annihilated by a handful of human-sized monstrosities.
Still, the whole thing sounds too good to be true.
"So what does Apex want out of this?" Ford asks. "You guys are working on some serious top of the line stuff. What can we possibly offer you in exchange?"
Maia keeps herself level; either she's genuine or she's a really good actress. "Call it a matter of trust. No one outside Apex's R&D divisions has so much as glanced at these plans. You all saw it first, you get to call dibs. And while we're talking about trust... there's no shortage of things Apex and Monarch can accomplish by working together. Advances in medicine and cybernetics, technology, or even bigger things. Like, say, a meaningful way to defend our lonely little planet alongside the Titans. Or maybe even fund an expedition to the Hollow Earth."
The fine hairs on the back of Brooks' neck stand up, remembering the cavern photos from Dr. Andrews.
Ren straightens up. "That's quite a leap from improved armor."
"Trust is a two-way street. The Titans may have been here first, but we live on this planet too. If Ghidorah was extraterrestrial, who knows if or when something similar will come knocking? Why should we leave all the heavy work protecting our only home to our gigantic neighbors?"
"You have a good point." Foster folds her arms. "But maybe trust isn't the right word this soon. We've been burned by people we thought were trustworthy before. Let's call it a mutual need for now — it's more honest this way."
"Works for me," Maia says. "And if things don't work out, then nothing has to leave this room. This conversation never happened. But feel free to take pictures of the plans if you like — the specs were printed with a certain ink so they can't be photocopied... or in case someone thinks they can pull a little patent theft. But that's not you guys' style, is it?"
"Of course not," Ren says. "We're a pack of fools, not idiots."
Ford bites back a laugh. Maia's phone buzzes and she pulls it out, eyebrows hiking at what she sees.
"Sorry, but I have to take this. Excuse me..."
Ren finds his gaze unconsciously drawn towards Maia as she leaves with her bodyguard; is it just him or is there a sway in her hips? Or does she normally walk like that? Foster's eyes roll towards the ceiling while someone sighs out an "oy vey!" Ren jumps when a strong hand claps him in the shoulder.
"Watch yourself with her," Ford half-whispers to him. "She's a dangerous one."
"In what regard?"
Griffin disguises a laugh as a cough.
"Really?" Ford deadpans. "She bends herself over all boobs and butt like a pin-up model for everyone to drool over, and you didn't notice?"
"I have eyes, Brody," Ren glares. Not that he'd admit to anything more than that, but he would have to be blind not to. "Are you saying she was an effective distraction?"
"I'm saying she does the same thing my wife does when she wants something. Nothing extra, just enough to get your attention. When you're smart and look that good, you know how to use it to your advantage."
"I don't like this," Madison chimes in, some jumping in shock forgetting she was even here. "Something about her rubs me the wrong way, and I'd rather not place any trust in a mega-corporation, let alone Apex."
Mark turns to look at her. "Is this your inner conspiracy theorist talking?"
"No, Dad, it's just common sense. Plus, if game night at Outpost 61 taught me anything worth remembering, it's to never, ever, cut a deal with a dragon. Which sounds kind of ridiculous, I know, but they're making a freakin' cyberpunk pyramid in Hong Kong! I mean, come on!"
"Actually, that gives me an idea," Brooks interjects. He glances outside the tent in case anyone might be listening in, looks at Madison and then to the rest. "Say we decide to play ball. It sounds like a practical idea, and we could use the kind of tech Apex has to work with, but we send in someone to go ahead with this quote-unquote alliance in order to keep an eye out on the inside. Just in case we need to dabble in a bit of the good old corporate espionage, you know?"
"I could do that," Ren says, not looking up from taking pictures of the schematics. "A few years back I received a job offer from Apex as an engineer, but it wasn't a good time for me to drop everything and move across the world. They said they would keep a spot open in case I changed my mind. I'm technically not part of Monarch and it would make sense for someone like me to gain someone's trust in Apex. There is also the matter of my family name carrying a certain weight — they wouldn't refuse the son of the legendary Dr. Serizawa wanting to work with them."
Griffin's face breaks into a grin. "If that's the case, dude, better watch your back. You've got that leading man pretty face going on. Chicks dig that. Plus, she looks like a femme fatale Bond girl. Roald Dahl pulled it off."
Ren shuts his eyes, the slight crease in his brow the only indication of annoyance. "I am not bedding Walter Simmons's daughter."
"Hey. I brought food."
Nadezhda blinks blearily, having just woken up from her nap. "Food?"
"Got what you wanted," Zima clarifies, holding up a foam takeout container in one hand and a small tub of ice cream in the other. On a nearby table sits his own dinner, a bag of fast food. Somehow Zima had convinced the staff to let him go out and get his wife's very specific cravings, as the last time she had a hankering for something bizarre and it was supplied via the hospital cafeteria, she all but turned into an angry bear and nearly kicked down the door in her outrage. Nadezhda's mouth waters over her pregnancy cravings fulfilled, smiles broadly as Zima takes a spoon and drops a big ball of strawberry ice cream onto the plain spaghetti. She eagerly snatches the container out of his hands and looks like she'd eat the sticky dessert/pasta concoction with her bare hands if Zima hadn't given her a fork.
While she digs in like a starved dog, Zima pulls up a chair so he can sit down to enjoy his burger. Now she's hungry for one too. She leans over and chomps at the bacon strip dangling from her husband's mouth, eliciting a laugh from him. She's so exhausted, it feels like she only has any real energy when there's food ready; and Zima, bless him, is so good to her, always making sure she has more than enough food to keep her strength up and worrying his hair gray over how she's getting too thin to be pregnant. He's like a passive-aggressive grandmother.
She updates him on how Lubyov and Esfir are doing, or at least from what she remembers before dozing off, to which Lubyov gives a helpful thumbs up before returning to her own meal (from the cafeteria; unlike Nadezhda, she doesn't mind it, and enjoys the Jell-O). As for Esfir, she's still quiet after the screaming fit she had at the beginning of June, her bed still hidden behind a privacy screen. If Nadezhda thinks about it, which she prefers not to, Esfir losing her mind over nothing occurred around the time a certain former mining city turned into a nuclear glass wasteland.
"Have you thought of a name?" Zima asks. When Nadezhda gives him a puzzled look he points a french fry at her baby bump. She just sighs and slumps back onto her pillow.
"We don't even know if it will be healthy. Remember the ultrasound? It looks normal enough, more or less, but we don't know how normal..." Nadezhda trails off into a yawn. God, she's so tired. Zima gently lifts up her head, flips the pillow so she can rest on the cool side... oh, that's good...
"You talk like a B-movie," Zima smiles; he's chosen to ignore what looked like a tail on the ultrasound, at least for now. After all, he knows a guy with an elongated tailbone, so what if his unborn child has one too? It's better than missing a chamber in the heart, or a half-formed brain, or any number of things that would make a newborn incompatible with life. He distracts himself with rambling off a short list of baby names, testing for something that sounds good. "How about Kir, if it's a boy? Like the Persian king?"
"Zima, I'm serious."
"So am I." This time the back of his hand presses against her brow, then seeming satisfied with the temperature brushes her hair away. "Just in case things turn out well for once, eh? If not, well..."
"Let's just hope it isn't born with teeth."
Zima would be more concerned if it grew horns to match the tail.
From behind the screen, Esfir produces an insensate moan. She's going into one of her fey moods again, and Nadezhda watches her silhouette reaching out for something only Esfir can see; the shapes and shadows make it look like the poor woman is bloated as a balloon. It sounds like she's calling for "husband, husband!" Of course, she's not even married. Zima shudders.
"Baby's kicking," Lubyov comments.
Zima nearly chokes on a fry while Nadezhda drops her fork. Both of them gawk at where Lubyov lies opposite of Esfir's bed, dinner eaten and staring up at the ceiling like she hasn't just spoken for the first time in what feels like years. Her impassive face scrunches in discomfort and she pokes at her own baby bump with an annoyed look. From here, Zima can see a shift under Lubyov's gown, like the outline of a tiny foot pressing against its mother's swollen belly. As cautiously optimistic as he is over becoming a father, seeing that happen just gives him the willies.
Meanwhile, Esfir continues to silently wail for her imaginary husband... all three of him.
Apex Cybernetics, Pensacola, Florida
Maia returns to her personal office, satisfied with the meeting's outcome and figuring her father will be pleased to know they've finally gotten a hold of Ren Serizawa after years of effort; sometimes all it takes is a more personal touch to get what you want. She learned a long time ago how people look at her and see a pretty face with a nice body, how to use that against them. She looks back on the text messages that interrupted her earlier in the day, something of interest being found buried deep in the Vredefort crater of South Africa; if there's anything useful Apex can get out of it, it's their property now. Maia doesn't plan to get her hopes up but still indulges in fantastical what-ifs — after all, the crater is over two billion years old, and even Godzilla is knee-high to a grasshopper compared to that. It's not entirely out of the question for something extraterrestrial to have been the cause, but Maia tempers her expectations. Savor the anticipation a little.
She grabs a drink from the mini fridge next to her desk and boots up the PC to check her email. Maia's eyebrows lift, seeing an updated notification regarding a certain recent "transfer of items" from Bio-Major, and clicks on it. This particular email had interrupted the earlier meeting with Monarch. Her eyes skim over the preliminaries she's already read through and get right to the juicy details — a certain mother took the hot new fertility treatment hoping to get just one bun in the oven, ended up with fraternal twins. There's a series of photos showing the mother's declining health as her pregnancy progresses; quickly, unusual even when compared to others involved with the treatment. Bio-Major only introduced it a few months ago and some women already look like they're in the third trimester. These bundles of joy certainly don't waste their time developing in the womb. Interesting. Early labor and breach and... wait a minute.
Maia rereads the last few details, not certain she's understood them correctly.
Early labor. One of the twins, a girl, was breach. Mother went under anesthesia for caesarian, died in childbirth. Both twins in custody.
Well... that's new.
She double checks how long the mother had been pregnant — just a little over thirty weeks, almost seven months. Maia's aware that preterm birth can occur at thirty-two weeks or even earlier, but the baby then runs a high risk of developmental problems or cerebral palsy, if they don't end up dying altogether. How healthy are the newborns? The email had been updated just a few minutes ago, with a video file attached, and Maia eagerly clicks on it. Soon a video player pops up on her screen.
It's a first-person POV. An Apex researcher in white lab coat is pinned by the cameraman's apparent staring and explains how the twins are a handful, something about one of them taking a bite into a security officer's wrist hard and deep enough to require a hospital trip. So they're dealing with chomp-happy preemies, fantastic. Those experienced with raising babies are being enlisted to keep them calm, otherwise staff will be on the receiving end of very small and very sharp teeth.
The camera peers into a cell holding the babies and their current caretakers, and Maia decides they must be the ugliest goddamn things she's ever seen. Too bad they haven't at least inherited their fathers' good looks — they're as hideous as Monster X used to be. They look more like reptilian hairless monkeys than anything that should be allowed to gestate inside a human and seem to be self-sufficient like newborn lizards, able to move around and support their own heads. Bigger than the average baby, too, but the proportions at this angle indicate they lack the natural cutesy chubbiness of healthy infants, almost like they've already hit the toddler stage. It's amazing they're even viable lifeforms, let alone the fact their late mother was able to keep them inside her for so long without ripping her open.
Yonaguni
Something's been nagging at them, and it isn't immediately clear what until they have their morning soak. Much like that moment they saw their new face for the first time, Monster X is transfixed by their reflection, watching the water shift their appearance from iridescent shards to a whole, complete image.
Whole.
The Vivienne half has heard that revelation doesn't always elevate you; sometimes it can break you. It feels strange to know there are two souls in this singular head when they're so used to having two separate heads. Monster X stretches an arm back to scratch at the elytron mound of bone where San's head used to be. At some point it'd become muscle memory for one to look back and see the other, as certain as the sun and moon in the sky, and now when they look there's nothing to see. It... hurts, a little. Clawed hands press against their head and chest, bi-colored eyes watering — they know, in their head and hearts, that neither have left.
But I miss you, so badly.
The things they'll never be able to do again — press their heads close, rub horns together, look each other in the eye. Never be able to caress one another's face again, never to feel one's mouth pressing a gentle kiss to the other's brow again. Never be able to call one another by their names, to play around and loop their necks in an embrace, or say "I love you." To say it to themselves is fine, to think it and have it known is well and good. But to physically say it, in the specific quiet, trilling chirp they have for it in place of words, and have it hang in the air without another head to answer in kind...
You're right here. But I miss you.
Manda doesn't interrupt their musings, finally tuckered out and sleeping peacefully in the morning sunshine; instead, the interruption comes from a gust of wind and something smacking the elongated back of their head, knocking them sideways underwater. Monster X surges back up and snort seawater out of their nostrils, glaring towards the culprit.
Rodan has perched himself atop the battleship stone structure and screeches down at them expectantly.
Enough moping! The Enemy is felled and its minions vanquished. Now we have time for a proper scrap!
Good morning to you too, Monster X quips. Where have you been? Manda's missed you.
Rodan lifts his head proudly. Recovering, of course! I must be at my physical peak to best you in a contest!
Monster X ducks their head under the surface one more time before climbing back onto dry land, making a point to spray Rodan as they shake off the excess water. He puffs out his chest in annoyance.
If you're quite finished testing my patience... or perhaps you're stalling for fear of losing?
In a blink, Monster X suddenly appears up close in Rodan's space with a crack of thunder, wings spread out and mouth in a smirk. Rodan nearly falls backwards into the water in his shock.
Mind your tongue, boy. Monster X pokes the larger Titan in his prominent breast. I am your superior in both age and experience. Try to remember that once in a while.
It takes Rodan a moment to compose himself and he responds with heat expanding his chest, seemingly to make himself appear larger and more impressive. His brows quirk up in a sly motion.
Only half of you can say that. The other can just bluster and marvel at my skill while I leave you in the dust.
True, the Vivienne half does enjoy watching Rodan fly, but she's not about to admit it to his face. Try it, spring chicken. I'm going to show you how to really fly.
Much talk! Rodan steps close enough that their chests are touching, his heat wafting over them. Talk will win you nothing.
The feminine half snorts out a laugh; even among Titans, boys will be boys. Monster X rocks back on their feet throws their chest out against Rodan's to surprise him. This time he does fall off, barely managing to catch himself and cling bat-like to the rock, gapes up at them with a squawk. Monster X smirks rakishly at him, fists at their hips and foot tapping.
If you're done flirting, are we going to fly? Or do you want to keep blowing hot air?
Rodan's eyes narrow and he steadies himself, talons digging into the stone and muscles tensed for action. Monster X falls into a squat and readies themselves for a backflip, expecting Rodan to leap right in their face. The avian Titan actually springs off the rock and rockets into a glide over the water; thinking quickly, Monster X's muscles burst with adrenaline at around the same time to chase right after him, the force of the two Titans' flight parting the water under them.
They swipe at the short tail in front of them to annoy him and Rodan claps his wings in a mighty beat that catapults him higher into the air, shockwaves causing a tidal wave to nearly crash into Monster X — not one to be outdone, they do the same and following the first ascending flap their wings surge with crimson lightning, sending them rocketing up past Rodan; and just to show off they make sure to look him in the eye before vanishing into the clouds.
CHEAT! Rodan shrieks at them in outrage.
You said you wanted a proper scrap! Monster X's twin voices laugh above him.
Rodan soars higher and higher till he erupts out of cloud cover, just catching a dark shape zip overhead and he leans back to follow after it, but they're nowhere to be seen. Just then something latches onto his back and he does a double-take seeing Monster X riding him like a human on horseback.
Monster X crows a yeehaw! and audaciously cracks an open palm across his backside. Rodan spirals furiously to shake them off, only for the other to cheer louder and and spin their free hand in the air like a cowboy with an invisible Stetson or lasso. Eventually Rodan succeeds and they slide off his back, allowing him to fly straight and true, but it doesn't last long. He does a triple-take upon looking down — Monster X grins up at him with hands folded under their neck, wings outstretched and humming electrically; they're flying upside down.
Stop holding back on me! You can do better than this!
With a growl Rodan lunges, talons outstretched and locking with Monster X's; they make a surprised sound and shove the ball of their palm against Rodan's chest, a more prominent feminine voice yelling something about playing footsie, whatever that is. The two fall into an interlocked tail spin through the clouds, Rodan's internal heat skyrocketing and causing his armor plates to expand and make him grow larger, flames bursting around him. Monster X keeps smirking up at him, arms folding and their body sparking with red arcs.
The contest turns into something like an aerial dance, Rodan's heat and Monster X's magnetism both keeping them afloat as they wrestle across the sky, trading blows and snapping jaws clipping each other about the mouths and necks. Each one will beat their wings when they fall too close to the sea and it turns into an unspoken rule; first one to hit the water loses. Monster X keeps both arms folded across their chest, less to flex on their opponent and more in a sense of fairness to keep things even.
The earlier melancholy is drowned out by adrenaline and power and freedom — Monster X is finally in their element, becoming one with the wind and knowing what to do with instinctive precision. Their play-fighting with Rodan releases a spring of tension that'd been coiled up tightly inside them; every flap of the wings and swipe of talons, every hit that nicks them and catches, digs into them, it enriches them. There's a feeling of completion in the fight, so pure and simple — Monster X and Rodan don't fight over territory or food, but for the challenge of it; because it hardens them physically, satisfies a primal need inside them to be strong and fast, ready for when the world takes a turn. The fight tests them and helps them grow, and quite plainly... it's fun.
The end of a journey isn't always sad, for it leads to the beginning of a new one. Yes, something has ended, and the memories will stay with them, but they also feel refreshed knowing the next chapter in their life awaits, with its own trials and obstacles to overcome.
The island has come to expect their coming when the wind hums in a certain electric way, learning this earthly god is merely visiting someone dear to them just as any human would, for however long that loved one has left. One day that someone will die and Abraxas will both celebrate that life with love and gratitude, mourn the loss — the first of many like it. It is the purpose of Man and Monster to live, not to merely exist, and they will use their time. Things are looking up, though they will still have their dark days. The nightmares will never really leave them. But at least they can face those troubles more easily, now that Ghidorah exists only as a memory that with time may be forgotten.
Monster X steps carefully towards the hospital, no longer quite so gingerly as the first time. Susan, who will soon be transferred to hospice care and may only have a month or two left before peacefully passing away, waits in a wheelchair on the hospital roof for her children to arrive. The portable radio on her lap squeals and she presses the microphone on her earbuds.
"Welcome back," she greets them, her smile a reflection of the sun's warmth.
Monster X gets comfortable and leans their head over the roof so Susan may touch their face. The dark god looks at her, love in their eyes and simple happiness in their smile.
"I'm back."
From Dr. Chen's notes: a verse from Vǫluspá, wherein a prophetess foretells a beautiful new world reborn from the destruction of Ragnarök, as translated by Dr. Jackson Crawford:
"Sér hon upp koma öðru sinni
jörð ór œgi iðjagrœna;
falla forsar, flýgr örn yfir,
sá er á fjalli fiska veiðir.
Um aldrdaga ynðis njóta."
"I see the earth rise a second time
from out of the sea, green once more.
Waterfalls flow, and eagles fly overhead,
hunting for fish among the mountain peaks."
ᛞ - Dagaz. "Day." The final or second-to-last rune. It represents fulfillment and achievement, the balance between two extremes, harmony, and the light of day. It is a rune of synthesis and enlightenment. The initiative's road is at its end, and a new cycle can begin.