monster Gene Evolution

With a thunderous roar, Alex charged—and Godzilla met him head-on, the ground shuddering with each step.

Godzilla struck first, biting deep into Alex's wing, his jagged teeth tearing through flesh and membrane. Alex snarled in pain but didn't falter. Instead, he lunged forward, clamping his jaws down on Godzilla's thick shoulder.

Then he began to draw the radiation out.

A deep, pulsing glow ignited between their bodies as Alex's internal systems kicked in—siphoning raw nuclear energy through the bite. Godzilla bellowed, steam rising off his body as his dorsal fins sparked erratically.

> Then came the crackling.

Red arcs of bioelectricity surged from Alex, snapping violently across Godzilla's scales, searing into flesh. The legendary titan roared, his body spasming from the dual assault—energy loss and electric overload.

But he didn't go down.

With a guttural, defiant snarl, Godzilla summoned a surge of primal strength and threw Alex off. The winged titan crashed into the ground, carving a trench with his claws as he dug in and skidded to a stop.

Both titans stared at each other, panting. Smoking.

Godzilla's chest heaved, his massive frame dripping with radiation and steam.

> He was tiring.

So was Alex—but he hid it well. His breaths came sharp and shallow, but his body stood tall. He'd flown across half the world from Isla Nublar to Japan, fought three mega kaiju, and then raced all the way back to Boston for this fight.

> He was running on fumes.

But he couldn't let Godzilla see weakness.

His body trembled with fatigue, muscles screaming nearing overload. But he wasn't done.

> One last move.

He surged forward, seizing Godzilla before the titan could recover—claws locking onto his shoulders, wings spreading wide. Godzilla groaned, legs dragging against the broken ground, tail thrashing.

With a roar of effort, Alex activated his gravity field. The air warped around him as his body grew lighter along Godzilla's. Slowly, painfully, he began to rise, wings flapping in furious, labored strokes.

> Higher... higher...

His body sparked with unstable bioelectricity, red arcs dancing like wildfire across his scales. Every beat of his wings drained him. Every foot gained felt like a kilometer.

But he didn't stop.

They pierced the clouds—two titans locked in a death grapple, ascending toward the stratosphere.

And then—the drop.

Alex folded his wings and spiraled downward, gravity field reversing, multiplying their mass. Godzilla roared as the ground rushed up to meet them.

Aboard the Argo

"Dear god…" Sam whispered, eyes locked on the screen.

A streak of red light tore through the sky, trailing lightning like the wrath of a vengeful god.

> "Black Wyvern is coming down," Stanton breathed, "and he's bringing hell with him."

Colonel Diane Foster's locked to the screen as she started the countdown

"Impact in three… two—"

Alex let out a final roar, his body glowing brilliant crimson—then unleashed everything.

BOOM!

A 500-meter-wide bolt of red lightning exploded from the impact zone, slashing the sky with blinding fury. The ground cracked, then shattered as a titanic shockwave erupted outward—flattening everything in a kilometer-wide radius.

Debris, concrete, and shattered metal were vaporized. All drones monitoring the fight blinked out, their systems fried.

Even the Argo, stationed over a kilometer away, was struck by the backlash—a blinding EMP wave surged through its systems

Alarms screamed. The Argo shook violently, lights flickering as it plummeted toward the sea.

"Rebooting in five... four... three... two... one!" Stanton counted through gritted teeth.

> Beep.

Whirrrr.

Click.

With a final pulse, the ship's systems snapped back online, stabilizers roaring as control returned. The Osprey leveled out just above the ocean's surface, turbulence still rattling the hull.

Everyone inside was shaken, but alive.

"Everyone okay?" Stanton asked, pulling off his headset and looking around.

"Yeah," Mark gasped, steadying himself as Madison clung to his side, her face buried in his jacket. "We're fine."

"Is it over?" Sam asked cautiously, eyes still wide.

Stanton looked out the cracked viewport, toward the distant smoking crater.

"After something like that?" he said. "It damn well should be."

"Can you check their vitals?" Dr. Chen asked urgently.

Stanton nodded, reattaching his headset and tapping into the seismic and bio-signal feeds. Everyone fell silent as the only sound was the flicker of screens and Stanton's measured breathing.

> Beep...

Beep...

"They're both still alive," he finally said. "But... Godzilla's vitals are weaker than Black Wyvern's. Looks like he took the worst of that drop."

The tension in the room thickened.

"We need to get closer," Stanton added. "Only way to be sure."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Mark demanded, turning to Colonel Diane Foster

> "Pilots—take us in."

"I want eyes on the crater."

-----------

Smoke still hung over the shattered crater like a curtain of war-torn mist. The earth trembled softly as massive footsteps echoed—the other titans had arrived, drawn by instinct, by dominance, by the call of a new order.

One by one, they emerged from the treeline, hills, and sea—Behemoth, Methuselah, Scylla, and more—circling the crater. They moved cautiously, reverently, watching.

In the center, two giants lay broken but breathing.

Godzilla's chest rose and fell slowly, his head bleeding, one of his dorsal plates missing. Scorched and battered, he lay unconscious.

Nearby, Alex—Black Wyvern—lay still, both tails severed, his body scorched with glowing crimson cracks. Sparks danced over his body as he began to stir, regeneration taking hold.

His tails slowly grew back, inch by inch, and with a grunt, he pushed himself upright, stumbled, caught himself with a wing, then finally stood tall—standing over the fallen King.

Aboard the Argo, the bridge was silent.

"…Godzilla has lost," Stanton said grimly.

Dr. Chen lowered her gaze, a silent sorrow in her eyes.

"Say hello," Stanton added, "to the new Alpha."

On the battlefield, Alex placed one clawed foot on Godzilla's chest, jolting the Titan awake. Godzilla roared—weak, defiant, but proud.

Alex stared down at him, then leaned close, letting loose a low, guttural roar directly in his face—"I win. You lose."

Then, with a flick of his wings, he stepped off Godzilla, turned to the skies, and let out a thunderous roar, one that echoed across the ruins of Boston and beyond.

> The other titans lowered their heads.

One by one, they bowed.

But not all were willing.

Rodan, perched on the edge, lowered his head reluctantly, his body tense. His wings twitched. His eyes narrowed.

Alex noticed.

Their gazes locked. he'd been expecting this after all Rodan was the first who opposed Ghidora's rule for a while until he was forced to submit .

Rodan snarled and suddenly took flight, wings carving through the air as he circled once, then dove at Alex, shrieking.

Alex didn't flinch.

Instead, his dorsal spines began to glow—bright crimson. He drew in the last of his stored radiation.

Rodan came closer.

Closer.

And then—

> BOOM!

Crimson Resonance lanced from Alex's maw like a railgun blast, striking Rodan dead in the chest mid-charge. The blast carried the flailing titan through the air like a ragdoll before he slammed into the ground, skidding for hundreds of meters, smoke trailing behind him.

Alex flew in, landing hard on Rodan's pinned wings. His mouth glowed again, heat warping the air.

Rodan twitched beneath him.

But did not resist.

He turned his head away—and bowed.

Victory was complete.