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Chapter 238 - Chapter 240: The Darkest Hour

Chapter 240: The Darkest Hour

Alien Hipporit is considered one of the most classic and well-known villains in the Ultraman series.

Though not particularly strong in direct combat, he's known for wiping out the Ultra Brothers and sneak-attacking the ancient monster U-Killersaurus, who was already 160,000 years old.

Add in that unforgettable, uniquely shaped face, and despite appearing only once in Ultraman Ace, Hipporit has remained one of the most recognizable villains in the entire Ultra franchise.

Before the rise of Belial, no other enemy had ever taken down so many Ultras.

To be precise, the version of Hipporit that appears in the Great Battle! Super 8 (Superior Ultraman 8 Brothers) is technically Super Alien Hipporit. Compared to his Showa-era counterpart, this one has a more slender build and a more humanoid appearance.

However, his iconic downward-curved forehead horn—which, although floppier now—was still recognizable enough that hardcore fans like Li Ri'ang identified him instantly.

Also returning was Hipporit's signature cheat-code-tier weapon: the Hipporit Capsule, capable of turning an Ultraman into a bronze statue.

This thing is basically a bugged item in the history of the Ultraverse—once sealed, you're done for.

Even after getting nerfed repeatedly in the New Generation series, it's still incredibly lethal.

Once you're trapped in that capsule, it's nearly impossible to break free with your own strength.

In the Ultraman fighting game Shinji used to play on his PSP, this move was an instant-kill. No matter how much HP you had, it'd take you out.

Naturally, Shinji faithfully recreated this traumatic scene in his film.

Inside the capsule, Mebius pounded helplessly against the curved metallic interior, unable to break free.

"Hahaha! You fell for it!!"

With a twisted laugh, Super Hipporit stepped out from the shadows.

Just like decades ago, the moment he saw an Ultra warrior fall into his trap, he could hardly contain his glee.

"Pandon was just a tool to wear you down, Ultraman Mebius!"

Under Hipporit's control, the Hipporit Capsule began releasing gas and fluid.

"Aaaahhh—"

Mebius screamed in pain. Everyone could only watch helplessly, hearts aching—they couldn't do a thing to help him.

"Gagagagaga~ Hurts, doesn't it, Mebius? Just stay there and rot!!"

Amid Hipporit's shrill cackles, Mebius was finally petrified, transformed into a motionless statue.

Just moments earlier, people had been cheering the explosion of Pandon. Now, their smiles had vanished, replaced by deep despair.

They didn't know much about who Mebius was, but they knew that Ultraman was humanity's protector.

And now—this hero, who had just appeared—was gone.

The sky was falling.

"Hahahaha! Ultraman Mebius has been defeated by me, Hipporit!"

As if wrecking humanity's mental state once wasn't enough, Hipporit decided to twist the knife even further.

"Now, there is no one left to protect this planet! Humanity, prepare for your extinction! Hahahahahaha!!"

On the ground, Daigo glared fiercely at the arrogant villain, burning with regret that he was powerless to act.

The towering figure of Hipporit vanished, but his mocking laughter still echoed in everyone's ears.

In the world of Great Battle! Super 8 (Superior Ultraman 8 Brothers), people were finally coming to a terrifying realization:

The end of the world had truly arrived.

In screenwriting theory, there's a concept called the "Darkest Hour."

In superhero and romance films, there's often a moment when, after a small victory, the protagonist plunges into a deeper low point—one even worse than the beginning—just before the final climax in Act Three.

By using this kind of intense contrast, the film delivers its most powerful dramatic impact—drawing out the audience's deepest emotions.

The "Darkest Hour" always happens at a critical turning point for the protagonists.

Take the original Spider-Man movie for example: Peter Parker basks in his newfound powers and early success, only to face the tragic death of his beloved Uncle Ben right after, that's his "Darkest Hour."

In a Great Battle! Super 8 (Superior Ultraman 8 Brothers), Mebius defeats Pandon and brings a glimmer of hope to humanity.

But before the victory cheers even die down, he's ambushed and turned into a bronze statue by Alien Hipporit.

That moment, too, marks a Darkest Hour.

For the ordinary people of the Ultra Eight world, just seeing an Ultra warrior fall is already devastating enough.

But for the main character Daigo Madoka, it's still not rock bottom—not yet worthy of being called his true "Darkest Hour."

So Shinji sets up the next scene, where Daigo visits Aki Sakata in the hospital.

Finally, Li Ri'ang gets to see the fate of the character he's been so worried about:

Aki Sakata is gravely injured and unconscious.

Not dead, but almost.

That Schrödinger's state—neither alive nor truly gone—only irritates Li Ri'ang more.

"If you were just gonna kill her, then kill her. What's with this half-dead ambiguity? You just gonna keep us dangling?"

Gnawing at his fingernails, Li Ri'ang is visibly agitated.

But Shinji isn't rushing the plot forward—he takes his time, letting Daigo's emotions sink in.

As Daigo walks through the overcrowded hospital halls, he witnesses firsthand the suffering caused by the monster attack earlier that day.

Countless victims are critically wounded. The hospital is overwhelmed, doing everything it can to help, but it's still not enough.

The wounded cry out in pain, their groans echoing through the corridors—a vision of hell that cuts deep into Daigo's heart, leaving him helpless and overwhelmed.

To ease their pain, Daigo does whatever he can:

—Helping nurses deliver medicine into crowded rooms

—Assisting doctors in moving the injured

—Even giving his own suit jacket to a little girl who won't stop crying

But no matter how much he helps, the fear, despair, and suffering on everyone's faces only seem to grow worse—spread by the very hopelessness they all feel.

"What am I supposed to do..."

Struggling through the hallway, Daigo looks back at the sea of crying people. His heart sinks further.

And that's not even the end of it.

Until now, Daigo has only been exposed to the pain of strangers.

But when he finally reaches Aki Sakata's hospital bed, he's met with two even more gut-wrenching sights:

—A devastated Megu Go (Aki Sakata and Hideki Go's daughter)

—And a guilt-ridden Hideki Go (Ultraman Jack's human host), filled with self-blame

Shinji chooses not to write any dialogue for this scene.

Instead, everything is told through Daigo's changing facial expressions, allowing the audience to feel his emotional turmoil in silence.

"This scene's kinda dragging, don't you think?"

Sakamoto, sitting in his seat, shakes his head and critiques:

"They're just wasting time. I get that the director's trying to portray the 'Darkest Hour,' but it's way too melodramatic."

"You could've just had Daigo cry a couple of times next to the hospital bed and called it a day. Why drag it out like this?"

Tilting his head in confusion, Sakamoto Koichi just couldn't wrap his head around what the director was trying to do with this movie.

Good thing Sakamoto was sitting far enough from Shinji, otherwise, the man might've launched his shoe straight at Sakamoto's head, throwing dignity to the wind.

Because this entire hospital sequence?

Shinji shot it just for Sakamoto to see.

Back when Shinji time-traveled, it was right during the airing of Ultraman Trigger.

This so-called "new-generation Tiga" got torn apart by fans the moment it aired.

Forget living up to a legend like Tiga—it couldn't even hold a candle to its immediate predecessor Z.

Sure, the quality improved somewhat in the second half, but even then, it only managed to claw its way back to average.

If it weren't for the flashy appearance of the "Robot Commissioner" and Kengo's brutal battle damage that made fans wince in sympathy, Trigger's reputation might've never bounced back.

But no amount of late-stage patchwork could cover up the disaster of its early episodes.

Originally, Shinji had planned to shoot the hospital scene pretty much as it was in the original version.

But the more he filmed it, the more one scene from Trigger kept flashing back in his mind:

Kengo, holding a comatose Yuzare, standing awkwardly in a crowd and... crying.

From a narrative standpoint, a hero in their "Darkest Hour" needs to confront self-doubt.

That moment of internal reckoning is what allows the eventual comeback to feel earned and inspiring.

But in Sakamoto's version? That beat was handled with all the subtlety of a PowerPoint.

Despite being surrounded by the wounded and the suffering, Kengo just stood there looking panicked.

No attempt to help the doctors.

No effort to comfort the people around him.

Nothing.

He just stood there, hopping anxiously in place while blurting out,

"I just wanted to make everyone smile…"

Which, in the context, felt less like heartfelt pain and more like a clown saying,

"I was just trying to cheer everyone up with some memes, bro."

Now cut to Shinji's scene:

Same post-disaster hospital, same human hosts of Tiga and New Tiga, same set-up.

You could call it a Tsuburaya-style homage—or, more accurately, a direct comparison.

So with every shot he filmed, Shinji kept thinking of Trigger, and the more he thought about it, the angrier he got.

Eventually, in full creative rage, he tossed out the original script and rewrote the entire hospital sequence from scratch.

Not out of necessity, but out of spite.

He wanted Sakamoto to feel what a well-done emotional scene looked like.

Because simply standing in a corner delivering lines isn't acting, that's just moaning with no cause.

When a human host gets involved directly—moving patients, sharing warmth, easing pain—Then, and only then, does the monologue feel earned.

Then, the audience believes it's coming from somewhere real.

Sure, Shinji would admit—his writing might still be rough, far from film masterclass level.

But when it came to emotionally slapping around early-Trigger Sakamoto?

Oh, he could cook.

Unfortunately, Sakamoto didn't get the message.

Instead of feeling even a shred of guilt, he brushed off the scene as nothing more than "unnecessary buildup."

"Why do I feel so... dissatisfied?"

Back in his seat, Shinji scratched his head, unaware he'd just been roasted behind his back.

"It's like I tried to flex and totally whiffed… Ugh, so frustrating!"

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