Godzilla Earth: Origin (Patreon)

Volume 2 Chapter 117: Destoroyah — Detonation, The End

It wasn’t just a creation of the devil.

It was the devil itself.

Through the lens of the mechanical hounds, the search squad finally caught a glimpse—deep within the darkness—of that thing.

That existence.

Black and red entwined, pulsating veins breaking through cracked chitin, countless corpses embedded into its surface like an inverted hellscape—where life melted and fused into a grotesque unity.

Its outer shell was formed from bone and flesh, deformed limbs pieced together like a nightmare. Human torsos and lower halves completely severed, mouths agape in eternal screams, eyes frozen in despair.

Thick, fleshy tendrils extended from their mouths, interwoven across the mangled meat-shell formed from stacked human remains. These veins pulsated like living creatures, breathing, twitching—alive.

This was a scene fit only for hell.

And it was the very reason they had come down here…

At the elevator terminal, the surveillance crew swallowed hard as they stared at the monitor. One of them sent the footage up to the command center on the surface, requesting further orders.

“Recon squad reporting in... The facility has been fully explored—no survivors located. However, we’ve found what appears to be the escaped specimen. It’s currently undergoing metamorphosis. Awaiting instructions. Over.”

“Copy that. Surface Command has reviewed the situation. With no survivors confirmed, proceed with Protocol #3. That is all.”

“Protocol #3... Understood. Commencing operation.”

Rumble rumble rumble...

The elevator's deep groan echoed through the underground stillness.

Simultaneously, the surveillance teams began broadcasting an order to all soldiers still combing through the facility in search of the Destoroyah specimen.

The message was simple: stop what you’re doing and gather.

What was about to happen next wasn’t something you wanted to face alone.

Protocol #3: Once the escaped entity’s sample was collected, destroy it using existing on-site weaponry before it completes its metamorphosis.

Brutal. Risky. Direct.

And terrifying—no one knew if that thing would wake the moment they tried.

The troops moved quickly, assembling at the elevator terminal. After a swift headcount, they opened the emergency lift, stepping inside with fingers tense on their weapons, mentally preparing to escape at a moment’s notice.

This was their safety net—should the nightmare awaken and prove unstoppable, they’d bolt.

All preparations in place, several remote-controlled vehicles were dispatched. Each one carried a special containment module crafted from nanotubes. Their mission: reach the central surveillance room, where mechanical hounds still surrounded the scene.

The vehicles were equipped with high-temperature plasma cutters.

After two minutes of silent advance, they reached the center of the surveillance room—directly beneath the grotesque cocoon.

Mechanical arms extended.

Under the careful control of technicians, an inferno of flame, hotter than the sun’s surface, ignited into a razor-sharp stream.

Hissss—

8000 degrees Celsius.

The blade was short, just a few millimeters of flame—but with that kind of heat, even a few centimeters was overkill.

However, for the personnel deep underground, this was enough.

A flame just a few millimeters long was more than sufficient for sample collection.

They weren’t trying to tear the whole cocoon apart—just harvest a sliver. A tiny, tiny piece.

Hssss... crackle...

With a precise sweep of the plasma cutter, a fingernail-sized chunk of flesh was sliced away.

Seeing how smoothly the operation went, the technicians remotely controlling the machines let out a collective sigh of relief.

The last thing they wanted was an "incident" during the sample retrieval.

If it was going to wake up, they silently prayed—please let it be thirty minutes later.

With the mission complete, the sampling drone began its retreat.

Once it reached a safe distance, the next phase was initiated.

Around the cocoon on the surveillance room ceiling, automated demolition units entered combat mode.

Weapons extended from their backs as they leveled their barrels toward the abomination—this mass of blasphemy and meat.

Destruction Test: Commence.

BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG!!!

Mechanical hounds equipped with 12mm electromagnetic rifles opened fire.

Supersonic rounds slammed into the cocoon, sparking against its surface. Under the concentrated barrage from more than a dozen units, the entire underground complex shook.

On the surface, this firepower could turn a modern armored vehicle into a sieve.

If the target were anything remotely normal, it would have been torn to shreds.

But this creature, dragged from another universe, was anything but normal.

Once the ammunition was fully depleted, the aftermath was telling—shattered, melted bullets scattered across the ground, metal twisted and scorched.

Some mechanical hounds had lost limbs from ricocheting projectiles, but even through cracked optics, they all focused intently on the ceiling above.

The cocoon was... untouched.

Not a scratch. Not a dent.

Was this... expected?

Inside the elevator, the forward team exchanged grim looks.

They had seen the footage before descending—understood, in theory, how monstrous this thing was.

But that was just a video.

Now, facing it firsthand, the truth settled in their bones like ice.

Their current weapons—utterly ineffective.

Even anti-tank mines would be laughable against something like this.

If it came down to a real fight…

They were lambs in a slaughterhouse.

And if this monster somehow escaped the underground facility…

Just imagining the aftermath—the destruction it would bring to the surface world—tightened their chests with dread.

But then, just as quickly, the tension was released with a sharp exhale.

Because everyone here knew that It wouldn’t make it out.

“Type-12 electromagnetic rifles have no effect. Estimated outer shell impact resistance exceeds 1 TPa… Command, our weapons are incapable of inflicting damage. We request authorization to execute Final Containment Protocol.”

1 TPa—a pressure strength well beyond anything humanity could manufacture.

The special ops team sent up their request.

This final protocol had been prepared long ago—when the facility was still being built.

Five nuclear warheads.

Each with a yield of ten megatons.

Humanity was never foolish.

From the very beginning, they had accounted for the possibility of an otherworldly organism escaping containment—and that conventional weapons might not be enough.

And so, buried deep in five directions throughout the underground complex, five high-yield nuclear devices were planted.

Secret warheads, kept hidden from the public.

Just like the one used in that final, desperate attack on Godzilla in Japan.

“Request received… processing…”

“Team 1, based on the latest data you’ve provided, Final Containment Protocol has been approved. Detonation scheduled for thirty minutes from now. During that time, collect additional samples from its outer shell and vascular tissue. Once collected—evacuate immediately.”

The call handler quickly received full authorization—unsurprising, really.

After all, once the underground research facility was confirmed completely wiped out, the surface command had already mentally prepared for a total detonation.

Deploying the mobile task force had been a contingency. A way to salvage what they could: recover any survivors, secure samples, and, just maybe, eliminate the escapee without resorting to nukes.

But now, with that last option clearly off the table, pulling out the troops and triggering the underground obliteration was the only logical step.

Still…

The sheer durability displayed by the escaping Destoroyah specimen had piqued the command center’s scientific curiosity.

This thing—they needed more from it.

More samples. More data.

“Yes, sir!”

The special ops unit received their final mission orders and immediately sprang into action.

. . . . . . .

Squirming. Growing. Splitting.

Deep in the sealed blackness, everything that could be absorbed had now been pulled into the core.

Countless Destoroyah spores began intertwining, merging—crafting something new.

Like insects undergoing metamorphosis, they first deconstructed themselves, dissolving into nutrients—only to reform, rebirth.

A new Destoroyah was coming into being.

Its shell was slowly solidifying, rising out of the liquid cocoon.

The human remains that had once formed its chitinous shell were now being reabsorbed—recycled as part of its rebirth.

From decoding human DNA, it had learned much.

Within that fluid chamber, its new form was crystallizing—harder carapace, denser muscle fibers.

Just a little longer—just a little more time—and it would emerge, reborn.

But it seemed… it would not get that extra moment.

. . . . . . . . .

HSSSSSSSSSSSSSZZZZZZ—!!

Like welding torches piercing the dark, the sampling drones returned.

High-temperature cutters extended, blazing hotter than the surface of the sun, slicing into the creature’s hardened shell.

Bits of flesh and tissue were carved off and sealed in containers forged from carbon nanotubes.

The procedure was swift, surgical, and merciless.

Once the samples were secured, the drones turned and departed, leaving behind the transforming cocoon—and the sea of explosives laid carefully around it.

The small robots briskly made their way back to the central elevator hub.

There, they handed off the sealed specimen cases to the waiting soldiers before ceasing all movement—mission complete.

With the samples now in hand, and after taking another round of photographs of the cocoon and its surroundings, the team leader turned his gaze to the countdown timer ticking away next to the elevator.

He gave a curt nod.

“Time to go. Leave the rest to the folks upstairs.”

The soldiers moved quickly, packing up the portable drone control station into a massive transport crate.

One by one, everyone boarded the elevator in practiced, orderly fashion.

With a low mechanical rumble, the elevator began its ascent.

The blood-scented, corpse-strewn halls of the research facility fell into silence once more.

Click—click—click—click—clickclickclickclickclick...

Time crept forward with a mechanical rhythm.

Twenty minutes after the elevator had begun rising—something inside the massive cocoon on the ceiling began to stir.

A humanoid arm tore through the shell—an armor that would be impossibly tough by human standards.

And then, with a gentle splash, a graceful silhouette fell from the cocoon, landing amidst the viscous fluids.

The new being had arrived.

It was alone, bathed in dim light, exposed in the silence of the abandoned facility.

Like a newborn, it clung to the wall, slowly rising to its feet.

“Hah… Hah… Hah…”

Breaths—labored, human-like—spilled from its lips.

No longer a grotesque creature with insectoid mandibles, its mouth had evolved.

Now it had lips.

Now it could breathe.

Shff… shff… shff…

Its elegant body, lithe and foreign, was laid bare to the world.

From the ruptured cocoon above, swarms of microscopic creatures began to pour out, fluttering through the air like dust motes in light—circling, orbiting around their monarch.

Crack. Crack.

A stiff neck turned with slow precision.

Freed from the protective mucus, the creature revealed its fully-formed, almost human frame.

“Huff… Huff… Huff…”

“Huuh~ Haaah~ Huuh~ Haaah…”

The chitin that had coated its face began to flake away.

It drew in deep lungfuls of alien air, first with discomfort, then with growing ease—just like a newborn, learning to breathe in a new world.

And then, it spoke.

“Ah… ah… ahh… Dee… Dii… Dai…”

Drawing from the memories of those it had consumed, it searched for the right shapes, the right syllables, until at last—

“Destoroyah.”

“Destoroyah.”

“I… I am… Destoroyah?”

“I am Destoroyah?”

“I am Destoroyah.”

In the void of the underground chamber, the newborn Monster—now taking the form of something eerily human—spoke its name aloud.

And wept.

Tears streamed down its cheeks, glistening in the soft red warning lights.

Around it, the micro-creatures chirped in jubilation, a silent chorus of triumph.

They had done it.

They had survived this world.

They had conquered it.

All they needed now…

Was time.

Just a little time—and this world, this planet, would become their kingdom.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The joyful tears blurred its vision—but amidst its joy, a barely perceptible echo stirred in the depth of the facility.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

…What was that?

—Ssshhhhh—

…?

BOOM—!!!

Five suns exploded beneath the earth.

A roaring brilliance of annihilation surged through the caverns.

Light and fire devoured the underground complex.

The newborn Monster—bathed in its first light—was seared away in its final.

It burned.

It disintegrated.

It was erased.

. . . . . . . . . .

The ground quaked.

Far above, miles away, a team of operatives aboard a rising helicopter clutched the precious sample cases tightly in their arms.

As they watched the trembling earth below—they finally exhaled.

“Farewell, monster.”

“No… not farewell. Be gone, monster.”

The tremors rumbled on for minutes.

And then—silence.

A massive cave-in swallowed the facility whole, sealing the terror beneath layers of rock and history.

Humanity, at last, could breathe easy.

. . . . . . . . . .

Time passed.

Ten days after the nuclear purge—on that very spot where once stood a hidden tomb of horrors—green grass now grew peacefully in the spring sun.

All was quiet.

Until—

A pale white hand burst from the earth.