He woke to thunder.
Not from the sky — but from the deep.
The tremor rolled across the Pacific trenches, whispering through layers of black water and bone. The sea itself seemed to pulse with it — a heartbeat long dormant now drumming once more.
Godzilla opened his eyes, ancient lids sliding apart to reveal pupils like twin storms.
The abyss reflected his gaze.
Pressure crushed everything around him — yet to him, it was silence. It was home.
He felt it again: the shift.
An energy signature crawling up from beneath the crust, near the islands once marked by his ancestors.
Parasites.
The resonance was old, familiar, wrong.
He remembered this hunger — the kind that fed on life's fire, leaving worlds hollow.
His gills flared, tasting the electromagnetic tang.
They wake again.
In the Deep Currents
The ocean spoke in vibrations.
Every current, every rift carried memory — the pulse of time measured not in days, but in ages.
He swam through it now, his movements slow and deliberate. The water parted around him in rippling walls of blue light.
Above, the world of men churned — their machines screaming across the surface, their cities blazing against the night. He could feel their noise as static against his skin.
But far beyond that human clamor, there was something else.
Something alive.
Something listening.
A faint pulse — subtle, uneven — like a second heartbeat overlapping his own.
Not of the sea. Not of the sky.
The earth.
Across the World — Borneo
The Hollow Serpent stirred.
For the first time in months, he lifted his head toward the direction of the ocean.
That sound.
Low and distant, yet powerful enough to make the trees vibrate.
He knew it was not thunder.
It was a call.
Their energies brushed like two storms passing through one another.
They didn't yet meet — but they felt each other, faintly, across the continents.
The serpent's blood burned with recognition.
It wasn't fear. It wasn't challenge.
It was something older — the instinct of balance.
He is awake. The sea's guardian.
Serpentis sank back beneath the water, silent.
He would wait and watch, as he always did.
Back Beneath the Pacific
Godzilla breached through miles of saltwater pressure, ascending with slow, inevitable power. The deep glowed around him — faint traces of radiation streaking across his fins like lightning trapped beneath skin.
Every motion was purpose.
Every roar, memory.
He felt the parasite pair awaken — one beneath the Nevada desert, another hidden in the Philippine depths.
He could already sense their echo — the MUTOs — cold and ravenous, their pulse devouring life itself.
He exhaled, and the ocean rippled outward in rings that spanned miles.
They consume the world's fire.
I restore it.
And beneath the storm of energy that now surged through his veins, that other signal still faintly shimmered — somewhere across the equator, old and patient, wrapped in jungle shadow.
It was not threat.
It was not prey.
It was simply… awake.
Another watcher, he thought.
One who sees as I see.
He let the thought drift away as the current carried him eastward.
The war was coming.
And he was already moving toward it.
Above — Monarch Command
June 2014.
Seismic readings spike across the Pacific rim. Satellite visuals confirm a massive energy anomaly traveling toward Hawaii.
The Monarch technicians whisper the word they had sworn never to say aloud again.
"He's surfacing."
Screens flicker.
The alarms begin.
Somewhere, a camera drone catches a massive shadow slicing through the water at impossible speed.
Godzilla.
But as the feeds update, one operator notices something strange — a faint, echoing signature coming from Borneo.
A secondary Titan pattern.
Buried, motionless.
Listening.
"Sir… it's resonating with Godzilla's frequency."
"What? How is that possible?"
"We think it's communicating."
Godzilla breached the surface with a roar that silenced the sky.
The waves rose like mountains.
Lightning burned his outline into the clouds.
In the distance, the MUTOs began to move — drawn to his radiation, their hunger boiling into instinct.
And far away, in the steaming jungles of Borneo, a second ancient eye opened.