GTAG Chapter 53: Experiment
"Hss~"
As Godzilla's blood splashed onto the alien flesh, something unexpected happened.
The moment the tissue touched his blood, it reacted as though doused in magma—springing violently to life.
It leapt several meters into the air, bouncing again and again like a crazed insect. In seconds, it had jumped out of the circle Godzilla had created with his tail and vanished into the endless white of the snowfields.
The whole thing took less than three seconds, leaving Godzilla stunned.
He had known these creatures weren't viruses but intelligent, advanced organisms.
But for one to play dead so convincingly, even fooling him, was something he hadn't anticipated.
Thankfully, he had been cautious and never once made direct physical contact with them.
Still, if one random specimen from the incubation tanks was alive, what about the rest?
Godzilla glanced at the dozen or so cylindrical pods bobbing in the icy water nearby, frowning in thought.
That would have to wait. For now, the escaped creature couldn't be allowed to survive.
Unless he could witness his G-cells killing and assimilating an alien parasite with his own eyes, he wouldn't rest easy.
A blazing beam of atomic fire erupted from his maw. The fleeing creature, which had barely burrowed into the glacier, was vaporized instantly—reduced to nothing.
For the Thing, waking from hibernation only to find a colossal monster looming overhead was already a nightmare. Godzilla's presence alone was crushing, freezing it in terror.
Playing dead was its only option.
Then came the searing blood, hot enough to nearly cook it alive. Only the resilience of its imitated physiology had kept it from dying immediately.
It likely perished never even understanding how.
Having erased the threat, Godzilla realized something important. Out in the open, these creatures would always try to flee. That wouldn't do.
His gaze fell on the ship's wreckage.
Scooping up jagged chunks of alien metal, he gripped them in his claws. Under his scorching heat, the scraps glowed red and softened.
A grin flickered in his eyes.
With his tail, he swept together more debris, then began to mold them with his strength and heat—like kneading clay, except the "clay" was starship alloy.
In minutes, he had forged an ugly, blocky metal container.
It wasn't elegant. One half looked like a crude bowl, the other a lid. Together, though, they formed a sealed box.
From the incubation tanks, Godzilla plucked another specimen and dropped it inside the "bowl," smashing the container to free the organism within.
Once more, he let his blood drip inside.
But this time, he slammed the lid shut immediately.
A muffled bang shook the container, followed by vibrations. The creature inside had sprung to life.
Godzilla wasn't surprised. These abominations were far too hardy. Somehow, after countless years sealed in alien technology, they still lived—active and vicious.
Inside the crude box, hissing echoed constantly. The monster thrashed and screamed, reacting violently to his blood.
That much, he expected. His blood was searing hot, but heat alone wouldn't kill them.
What he was waiting for was the true test.
Soon, the violent shaking ceased. Not because the creature had surrendered, but because it was conserving energy, searching for another chance to escape.
At the same time, its instincts drove it to mimic what it touched.
It tried to imitate his cells.
But these weren't ordinary cells.
Godzilla's G-cells were predatory, devouring, brimming with raw power.
When the parasite tried to copy them, nearly a third of its body necrotized instantly, consumed and converted into fuel for the G-cells.
Still, the creature pressed on. It had faced difficult hosts before. If it could only imitate the structure, it might replace them in time.
But these cells were too complex. Too perfect. Like the essence of a god.
It managed a crude facsimile, mimicking superficial structures but failing utterly to replicate nuclear energy release.
In the end, its counterfeit cells were detected and swiftly consumed.
The parasite was devoured from the inside out.
The few survivors shrank into the corners of the small container, trembling in fear.
Trapped in the darkness, they clawed and bit at the iron walls, desperate for escape.
But Godzilla had accounted for that.
The box's walls were thick, forged from the bulk of the starship's alloys.
There would be no breaking through.
And the space inside was tight—barely three meters across. No room to run.
Godzilla had designed it carefully, ensuring there was nowhere to hide.
In this confined prison, his G-cells would multiply endlessly, until every last fragment of alien flesh was consumed.
Only then would his experiment be complete.
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