GTAG Chapter 50: Transformation
Cliff lay bound to the operating table, his eyes darting frantically around the cramped room. The surgical chamber was small, barely enough for the single table and a few cabinets nearby. If more people entered, it would feel suffocating.
"Did you know? We discovered long ago that you were an M agent sent here as a spy."
Aikawa's grotesque smile stretched across his face, the only expression he seemed capable of wearing. His hollow eyes made Cliff's heart skip a beat.
"You… what are you talking about? I don't understand."
Cliff tried to protest, but Aikawa only shook his head, looking down at the man tied to the table.
"There's no need to deny it. Even if you are a spy, what does it matter? Once you receive the Divine Blessing, you will be one of us. Your will is irrelevant. The power of God binds us together!"
With that, Aikawa left the room, abandoning Cliff to the gnawing dread in his chest.
Cliff felt a wave of unease. He knew the G-cells possessed powers beyond his understanding.
Damn it. The higher-ups must have known this truth all along, but they kept it from him. They wanted him to infiltrate the Godzilla Cult and uncover its real secrets, then hand everything back to them.
At that moment, Cliff felt betrayed. To them, he was nothing but a disposable tool—useful if successful, expendable if not.
If he survived and returned with valuable information, he would be a "good tool" and live longer. If he failed, he would surely be eliminated.
Now, Cliff cared less about his mission and more about survival. But what exactly was this G-cell surgery? Could it really turn a human into something inhuman?
As he trembled with uncertainty, a group of figures entered. Their bodies were completely wrapped in protective gear, resembling both doctors and researchers. Each carried a tray, though the angle prevented Cliff from seeing what was on them. That mystery only deepened his fear.
"Don't worry," one of them said, glancing at him. "This isn't our first time performing such an operation. For someone like you, chosen by the cult, everything has been specially prepared. The success rate is high."
"Begin."
Their calmness was unnerving compared to Cliff's panic.
"The subject is too anxious. Administer a sedative."
"Wait—!" Cliff tried to speak, but the injection left him dazed. Through the blur, he saw them pump his body full of unknown substances.
"G-cells injected…"
"Rejection detected. Apply neutralizer."
"Increase dosage!"
Meanwhile, Aikawa stood beyond the one-way glass, that nauseating grin frozen on his face as he observed the surgery.
Had Cliff been conscious, the sight of his own body would have broken his mind. His skin had ruptured the moment the G-cells entered, exposing raw, bloody muscle. Some flesh had even begun to rot away. The surgeons calmly cut away the decayed tissue, as if it were routine.
"First stage complete. Rejection has subsided. Commence phase two."
Though his skin was gone, Cliff's vital signs remained remarkably strong—stronger than ever. The G-cells were the reason.
Years of experimentation had finally perfected this process. Cliff was a "fortunate" subject. With the improved G-cells, death was nearly impossible.
But what he would become afterward… no one could predict.
As phase two began, tumors erupted across his muscles and organs. The surgeons injected more compounds and cut the growths away with mechanical precision.
Piece by piece, Cliff's humanity was stripped away.
When he finally opened his eyes again, he was blinded by harsh light. Instinctively, he raised a hand to shield himself—only to see a claw where his hand should have been.
He bolted upright. "This… this can't be real!"
He was a monster.
"Congratulations," said a familiar voice beside him. "You are officially one of us. Rejoice—you will witness history."
"Aikawa…"
"Yes. It's me."
Cliff turned and saw that same ghastly smile.
"What… what will I become?" he asked hollowly.
"You're still you," Aikawa replied, lifting a pale, porcelain-like hand. "Only your appearance has changed a little."
Cliff gave a bitter laugh. "A little? I look like this and you call it a little change?"
"Compared to them, yes," Aikawa said, raising his voice as he stepped aside.
Behind him were others. Not men, not anymore—grotesque creatures twisted by science, stripped of all resemblance to humanity. Yet their clothing revealed the truth: they had once been people.
Cliff should have been horrified, but strangely, he felt only detachment, as if his emotions had been muted.
"Who are they?" he asked.
"Failures," Aikawa answered. "Nothing more."
Cliff stared at him. "When did you know I was a spy?"
"Long ago…" Aikawa said with a smile.
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