Chapter 3: Scorched Earth
When facing down a creature like the Titan Tyrant, cheating simply wasn't necessary.
Godzilla towered across the battlefield, his gaze fixed on the lumbering colossus of the Tyranid swarm. It was a monster of comparable size, an apex predator engineered by one of the most adaptable horrors in the galaxy.
If he couldn't beat this thing, Godzilla figured he might as well go lie down in Trazyn the Infinite's vault collection and wait for the next millennia to pass.
'I've never seen this type before… Not the Dominatrix. Not the Hierophant. Looks like a giant Tyrant on growth hormones.'
[Tyranid Titan profile: The Hive Mind produces many war-beasts on par with Imperial Titans. As with all Tyranids, high-frequency mutation and adaptive bioengineering ensure no two are ever quite the same. This Titan variant appears to be a compound organism—a fusion of several different bioforms merged at the genetic level. The result is a fully integrated war-beast.]
'So its appearance can shift depending on what's needed.'
[Exactly. It's alive, after all. Mutable. Purpose-built.]
Before Godzilla could respond, motion caught his eye in the distance. Hulking figures moved into position—a group of Tyranid artillery organisms, massive "cannon bugs" whose grotesque bodies were shaped to support bio-weaponry.
With thunderous footfalls, one of them locked itself into position. Its spine split open as organic spore-mines were loaded into a cannon-like orifice atop its back. Muscle fibers rippled around the barrel as it contracted.
Then it fired.
A deep, pulsing *boom* split the air.
One spore-mine shell shot toward Godzilla. Then another. Then dozens. The sky was briefly filled with a deadly constellation of pulsing green projectiles. Some struck Godzilla directly, erupting into fiery bursts. Others detonated nearby, releasing clouds of noxious gas.
Biochemical toxins flooded the battlefield. Inorganic corrosives. Hemotoxins. Neurospores. Fungal cells. Digestive acids. The kind of chemical warfare that melted Astartes power armor into slag.
But not Godzilla.
He stood within the storm, encased in death, unfazed.
From within the poisonous haze, a brilliant white flash ignited.
Then came the flame.
A wave of searing white fire surged outward in a sweeping arc, incinerating the first line of charging Tyranid organisms. The sword-armed Gaunts—the knife bugs—were the first to be caught. Whole ranks of them disintegrated under the cleansing flame.
Even the artillery bugs were too slow to escape. The fire reached them, burning through their armor and soft tissue in seconds. Their shrieks echoed across the field before silence claimed them.
Through the cloud, Godzilla emerged—completely unharmed.
Far from the front, a squad of Ultramarines regrouped atop a rocky outcrop.
"By the Throne… what is that thing?"
"It's not one of theirs," another replied, watching as Godzilla tore into the swarm. "He's fighting the Tyranids. No symbiosis, no coordination. That's not an internal conflict."
They knew Tyranids would sometimes turn on each other when a synapse creature was killed, but this… this wasn't that. The Hive Mind still had command. And yet this creature—this monster—was an enemy to them.
"What should we do?"
"Stay back. Let him tear into the xenos. No sense in picking a fight with something that's helping us, even if unintentionally."
One of them froze.
A name had just echoed in his mind. Clear. Loud. Imprinted like a thought that didn't belong.
"…Godzilla."
Others looked at him, startled.
"You too?" one asked.
"The same name, just... appeared. What in the Emperor's name was that?"
"It's not daemonic. Doesn't feel like warp exposure."
"Either way, he's not our objective. And he's killing more Tyranids than we are. Let the beast work."
The decision was made. They opened a vox channel.
"Company Captain, this is Recon Team Theta. Unknown xenos on the field—engaged with Tyranids. Massive class. Possibly neutral. We recommend observation. The swarm's reacting to him."
"For the Emperor!"
On the field, Godzilla had no interest in what the blue-armored humans were planning. His focus was on the Titan Tyrant standing across from him.
'For the Emperor,' he grumbled, amused.
[That… was unexpected.]
'Let me have this one.'
His roar split the sky—deep, resonant, and alien. The sound seemed to shake the bones of the Tyranids on the field. He charged forward, storming into the swarm.
The smaller creatures responded, swarming up his legs like insects over a cliffside. Knife bugs jabbed at him with scything limbs. Their claws scraped against his hide. Most couldn't pierce his skin. A few lucky ones found soft spots in the folds between his scales—but even then, they barely sank more than a few centimeters.
Some tried to pull their blades free. They failed. A few even snapped their limbs off entirely in the effort. Green ichor splattered the battlefield.
Godzilla didn't even blink.
Bolts of bio-plasma rained down from the gun bugs behind them, pummeling him like a living artillery barrage. They either bounced off or stuck harmlessly to his armored hide.
Nothing penetrated.
Nothing mattered.
Only the Titan Tyrant did.
The swarm's lesser organisms scattered as Godzilla drew near. Even the Hive Tyrant, a towering creature in its own right, backed off—understanding instinctively that this was not a fight it would survive.
The Titan Tyrant alone held its ground.
It stood nearly as tall as Godzilla, with four arms—two wielding chitin scimitars and two ending in bio-plasma cannons. It moved like a predator and an executioner, efficient and unrelenting.
The cannons fired first. Two searing orbs of green plasma slammed into Godzilla's chest.
This time, he felt it.
But the pain was fleeting. The blasts scorched the hide and sizzled the scales, but they didn't go deep. They left smoldering marks, not wounds.
'That's it? That's all you've got?'
Godzilla advanced, unshaken.
The Titan Tyrant raised its scimitars and swung. Godzilla caught one in his palm. The weapon bit into his skin, but he didn't release it.
The second scimitar came down. He caught that one, too.
Holding both, Godzilla took a step forward. His midsection was exposed, and the Tyrant's lower arms fired again—blast after blast of plasma pounding into his abdomen. This time, Godzilla roared in true pain.
But pain only enraged him.
With a snarl, he twisted.
Bone cracked. Carapace splintered. The Titan's upper limbs bent in directions they weren't meant to bend. Blood sprayed across the ground in sickening arcs. The joints tore under the pressure, green fluid gushing from the wounds.
Godzilla ripped the scimitars from the Titan's hands and hurled them aside. They crashed into the swarm, crushing a tide of unlucky gaunts.
The Titan Tyrant staggered, two arms mangled and limp.
Godzilla pressed forward.
Each step was deliberate. The earth shook beneath him. The Tyrant backpedaled, green eyes locked on the beast before it.
'You underestimated me,' Godzilla growled internally. 'And so did the Hive Mind.'
And with that, the monster advanced—unyielding, unstoppable, and ready to deliver judgment.