Hi all, to the next book in the 'Eternal Cycle' series!

I'm grateful to anyone who's reading this! I hope all of you reading this will stick around for the main series that is actually coming together very well now!

Guess I should give an update for any who are curious. I'm finished planning out the first book and got a decent amount done in terms of planning for the other two.

YES! Despite me being a new writer, I'm being VERY ambitious and making the story a trilogy!

For future chapters in this book, I'll probably give an update on the series.

Also, a quick mention I think for anyone curious, on my Tumblr account, I'm planning on giving (semi) in-depth explanations in written form of certain character traits, character arcs/writing, headcanon and trivia for Godzilla characters as they are introduced in the 'Eternal Cycle series' as well as personal struggles I may find when writing these characters the way I want them too. For me personally, I think it's a good way of venting what I'm actually try to aim for when I'm writing these Kaiju, as well as what they mean in the grande scheme of things and how I want you- the audience- to react to them.

Link here:

Read if you're interested. And if you're not, I don't blame ya! I can ramble on for quite a bit.

...like I'm doing right now...

Anyway...I really hope you enjoy this new book! I'm very excited on sharing even more works after my break.

(P.S. Check out my Tumblr pls lol. I'm currently drawing out short comics that I spent way too long on, so hopefully I'll be able to share them soon!)


Alone. Trapped. Afraid.

The weight of the rocks were merciless, suffocating him to the point where he could only take a short, sharp breathe every minute or so to even have a miniscule chance of surviving. But he knew. No matter how hard he was trying to remain conscious. No matter how hard he tried to stand against the earth that crushed unforgivably against his back. No matter how long he continued to do all this- every second feeling like an eternity when confined to this hellish prison…

He knew…he was only delaying the inevitable.

He was only prolonging his suffering.

They had come so suddenly, without any warning whatsoever. To others- unforgiving and merciless in battle, a common thing in the world they lived in- it was his own and his entire species fault it had all lead to this. Truly, in the world they lived in, ideas of peace and a desperate attempt to isolate themselves from the cruel and dark world of constant war, blood and fighting was something the world and most of its inhabitants wouldn't stand for. For those who could walk, they would be quickly taught how to run. For those who could run, they would be quickly taught how to fight. And for those who could fight…to tell the truth, it would all be for nothing, as they would die quickly on the battlefield, accomplishing nothing; never being able to truly experience life and the greatness of it.

That reason; those reasons. That was why he and his entire clan had decided to stay far away from all that war and all that pointless bloodshed. It was so simple! How could others not understand it? They didn't want to die. He was sure those of others species didn't want to die. Was it a naive way of thinking? Yes! Was it unrealistic? Yes! But, it was so easy and simple to do. It was the best way everyone could be happy and finally live a life of peace. This was what he wanted the most. This was what his entire clan and species wanted the most. But, of course, not everybody wanted that. And it was a cruel twist of fate that those who despised these ideals happened to be the stronger part.

For those who could walk; run. For those who could run; fight. But how about those who didn't want to fight? Well, he got his answer.

Alone. Trapped. Afraid.

So sudden was the attack, that once one of his own had started to fight back and try their best to protect everyone else, dozens of his own clan- his own family- had been killed mercilessly. Although, he never knew this. He didn't even have a chance to ponder why exactly they were being attacked in the first place. After all, they were neither their enemy nor their ally. They had nothing to gain from being attacked like this. But the questions never even crossed his mind. In that moment, as fire burned around him, as the dark and vicious figures loomed ever closer, as the roars of those who could fight gradually disappeared the farther he went, as snarls of anger and lashing of teeth were drowned by wails of pain and agony…

All he could do was run away.

He knew better than to join the fight, but that isn't to say he desperately wanted to. Oh, how his heart burned to protect others just as his elders were protecting him. How his blood began to boil with an emotion he never felt within his life. And how his entire heart and soul screamed at him to do the noble thing, and protect others instead of being the one that needed to be protected. But he was smart as well as emotional. He knew, like those sent off to fight after just being able to taught how to run, he would die a pointless death. He was too young, too small and too frail to do anything. His spines were dull, not yet sharpened and fit for battle. His joints were soft and not sturdy, his chest already panting out of exhaustion simply by running. And- though he thought it shameful and dishonourable- his heart quickened with fear and terror.

It was too soon for him. He would just get in everyone else's way, he would only be throwing his precious life away. No, this wasn't cowardice. No, this wasn't 'self-arrogance'. And, no, this wasn't a delusion he tried to put upon himself. It was fact. He knew all life was precious, including his own. He had to get away, so he could continue on living for those giving their lives away for the sake of him. He had to honour their own hard fought battles and ideals of peace by continuing to strive for them the only way he could. By living for them.

But the frustration build up inside his plated body. Just why? Why wasn't he strong enough to do both? Why couldn't he both fight and live. Choose to fight and die. Choose to run and abandon and live. What was the right choice? Was their even a right choice? Was this selfish or noble?

Choose…

You have to choose!

But the choices faded into nothingness and the questions melted into obscurity. Suddenly, his mind was clear and- for a split second- his heart was calm, collected, and the strongest and hardest it had ever been before. For when he turned to his right, the sight he viewed did all this. Instinctively- within that split second his heart was powerful and his mind of rational thoughts was clear and emptied- his great feet turned around; the spines on his back (seemingly and unbeknownst to him) sharpening with conviction as he charged towards his goal.

To protect a younger, smaller and frailer child- his spines not dull, for they barely started to sprout from his back- that was backed against a great wall of rock and dirt, cornered by a vicious Kaiju.

And then he roared. It wasn't ferocious, gritty or snarling, those roars were already taken by the Kaiju that broke their way through his clans last line of defence, slaughtering them and moving on to the next victim, almost as if they hadn't even taken a life. His roar wasn't anything like that- he wasn't anything like them. His roar was loud and powerful, echoing distantly with determination and fire. It immediately got the attention of the Kaiju cornering that small child, who lowered his weapon in shock, before realising he was in pursuit, and readying himself to face him.

But the Kaiju was too slow, and- using the spines extended from his mace-like tail- he harshly and painfully struck the Kaiju in the face, creating streaks of warm, dark blood to flow from his wound. Immediately, the Kaiju stumbled back in immense agony, giving him ample time to put himself between the enemy and the child who looked on, still scared but now in shock at his new saviour.

But this wasn't the time. He may be a child, but he should know better than to just sit in awe! Still acting on instinct, he turned back to the wall of rock and dirt, making eye contact with the child still pressing his hide against the wall; still not moving besides from the shaking. Both of them were taking sharp breathes- one from fear, the other from exhaustion. But by now, rational thought had caught up to his mind. And he finally realised where he stood, who he was looking at and what he had just done. But the questions he was asking himself before, the uncertainty that filled his heart, they weren't there anymore. He couldn't find any strength to speak, but his eyes were all he needed to communicate with the young child. What was 'rational', now striking him deep within his mind, was his eyes that became both pleading and commanding to the child who now began to pick themselves up.

Run!

And with that, the child left him, disappearing into the crowd of others running away, their hides being hidden by the blazing fire.

After, he instinctively readied himself as he turned his spike head towards the foe he fended off. And his heart pumped with more adrenaline, power and…hope. Staring at his foe, he realised the Kaiju was still recuperating from his attack, still clutching his face as he suffered from the wound brought about by him.

I can do it!

He found his feet twisted themselves further into the ground, planting his entire body firmly into the earth.

I can do both!

His tail tightened up as the spines at the end of his tail glistened with certitude and power.

I can fight!

He lowered his entire body into a fighting stance, this entire ordeal being driven by his instinct and determination.

I can live!

He bared his teeth; flaunted his fangs as a guttural growl escaped his scaled throat. His eyes were sharper now and ready, prepared for anything that may come his way.

I can win!

And time seemed to slow down, as did his heart as the realisation caused it to drop.

His head was blown back, his face scarred with a streak of blood, and his entire body- once firm and strong- threatened to collapse and fall. As the hook of his enemy- stronger than anything he had experienced before- collided harshly with the side of his head.

He had no time to think. His instincts had gone and left him by his lonesome. The fire and determination in his heart was expunged to a flicker. His planted feet loosened, his spiked tail fell and the spines on his back once again became dull like they usually were. And his mind was clouded once again. Not with questions or uncertainty or fear. But with pain. Burning, stinging and horrendous pain.

But was it by chance, luck or fate that he found collapsing into the dirt of the ground, pathetically and easily defeated, to be his saving grace in all this? For, because he fell, the hooked Titan had managed to miss his strike and had ended up striking the wall of rock and dirt. Easily- too easily- the hook crashed through the solid earth. And with its foundation completely destroyed, the wall began to collapse and fall along with him.

As quick as he found himself protecting the small child. As quick as he found himself struck down and defeated. Before he could even roar out in pain, surprise, guilt and shock. He found himself buried harshly underneath the rock and dirt of the wall.

The face of the hooked Titan's sneer being the last thing he would see- burned into his mind- as the last of the rock and dirt covered his face, trapping his body.

Those were the last of his memories, before he found himself…

Alone. Trapped. Afraid.

Was it really his saving grace? Sure, he was bought a few more moments to live- but was this living? Was this 'saving grace' in fact a cruel way of the earth to torture his last living moments. Had he been spared a quick death from those Kaiju who had perceived him dead and left his home long ago and instead been granted a slower, more agonising death. How hypocritical. As parts of his last memories, he told himself his life was important, and used that as a means to justify why he was running away. And then he threw all that away and ended up torturing his own 'precious' life because of his choices.

But he wasn't frustrated. In fact, he was oddly comforted by a certain solace. He didn't regret saving that child- he was sure they and many others of his clan survived that day. By the time the enemy had slaughtered the last remaining warriors fighting them, the others had disappeared from his home, definitely far away by now.

Slowly, a smile had started to form upon his face, despite his imprisonment, discomfort and hopeless situation. He was weak, but ended up protecting someone. Before he died, he was actually able to do something with his life. For the first time in his life- no matter how short of a moment it had been- he was strong. Strong enough to protect his family, the one's he loved and cared for so deeply. All he could hope now, was that the child he saved and the many others who had escaped will continue to live for and strive for his, his elders and his entire clan's ideals. That everyone could live a peaceful life; that there was no need for war, fighting or bloodshed, no matter what had happened to them.

And with his final smile, his legs began to give way. As he exhaled his final breathe, he finally allowed himself to stop fighting.

He allowed the rock and dirt to crush him and make his grave.

There!

The voice he heard sprung himself into action. His legs regained their strength and he took another breathe in. All of a sudden, upon hearing life so close to him- life that had long since left him by his lonesome- the very last remainder of his strength flourished throughout his entire body as he once again strengthened his legs and pushed against the rocks atop him. For anyone, hearing a voice out there was a blessing. Maybe they could save him. Maybe he could actually live.

But after what had happened to him; because of the very last moments of his memories, he just couldn't think that.

Instead, he was afraid.

Panic began to well within him, his tail now moving erratically at a quickened pace to try his best to remove any and all of the rocks still unrelenting in their crushing weight. Thought once again began to leave him, as his terror commanded him to move, unknowing of the consequences. With his tail striking and pushing away the rocks hastily, he hadn't realised the great noise he was making. With his entire body shaking and harshly pushing back against the rock and dirt, he hadn't realised that he had caused even more rocks to fall onto him, crushing him further. And with his heightened breathing due to his fear and hysteria, he hadn't realised the miniscule amount of air left within this earthy imprisonment was rapidly decreasing, in doing so, making his thoughts clouded even more as his rational thoughts began to become non-existent.

But he couldn't care. All he had to do was act.

He couldn't take any chances. Their species was usually isolated from the rest of the world, remaining illusive and ever vigilant. There was no way anyone was coming to save him; there was no way that voice he heard in the distance belonged to any friend. No, it had to belong to the one's who had already learned where his clan used to live. It had to belong to the one's who attacked and slaughtered his clan.

It had to belong to a sickening Kaiju, uncaring for the lives they destroyed and ruined, who had come to finish the job.

Please.

Move! Move!

They weren't too close to him now. He had only a second to break free from his prison and escape. But in the world they lived in, a mere second could mean the difference between life and death.

Please… Please!

You have to live!

He was reaching his limit at this point. Given the injuries he sustained, how long he had been trapped underneath the rock and dirt and how the air within his prison had now been used up and gone, he would have surely collapsed and fallen by now. But adrenaline surged through the very spiked plates upon his back, as well as the determination of his beating heart that urged him to fight through all the pain- the impossibility of making it out alive.

And, because of all this, he hadn't heart the sounds of great and lumbering footsteps draw closer to him, as well as the powerful and echoing beating of wings that flapped themselves hastily against the wind.

He wasn't just pushing against the rocks atop him now, he began to strike and attack them, irritation writhing up from deep within him as the rocks seemed to give no indication of moving. Well, if that was the case, strike them harder! And strike them harder he most certainly did. The rocks began to tumble down onto the ground, and the rocks that crushed weightily upon his back had been moved off of him and to the ground. But when previous rocks had been conquered and moved, it seemed even more from the great wall of rock and dirt tumbled towards the ground to crush him further, replacing the rocks he had tried so hard to liberate himself from, giving him no time to rest- only to continue fighting. It seemed impossible; it seemed hopeless. But he couldn't think those things right now- he could barely think at all as. For what seemed like the final time in his life, his whole body moved and acted on instinct.

And then…daylight.

Rock and dirt upon his back began to seemingly melt away, with no more replacing them. Finally, he thought as more rocks began to crumble and fall around him, exposing the daylight and replenishing his dried lungs with much needed air. Finally, he was actually doing it. He was going to be free. It gave him the motivation he needed, and so continued to strike and push against the remained of the rocks around him.

But with the fresh air allowing him to think properly again; with the light of the sun brightening and clearing his eyes, only then did he truly understand. Only then did instinct completely vanish from him. Only then did he realise he was truly doing nothing, he was pathetic and helpless as two looming figures laid in front of him, the rocks he had once fought and struggled against being his only shield against them.

Only then did he realise that he wasn't the one moving the rocks- it was them.

No… please…

He had nowhere else to go, no clan to come rushing in to save him, no second chance or miracles to protect him.

I…I don't want to die…

More rocks began to fall around him, allowing more sunlight to hit his body, exposing himself more to the figures in front of him who powerfully moved the rocks, crushing him, away.

I want to live!

This truly was cruel. A viewing of his clan's massacre from enemy's they had no bad blood with nor any relation too. A pathetic display of cowardice as he ran away. A dishonourable and quick defeat, only being able to save one of his clan. A gruelling, torturous imprisonment by the hands of the earth itself that went on for heaven knows how long, only for his struggles to be in vain and ultimately lead to nothing. And a death granted by those who slaughtered his clan- his family. A life that will be discarded and forgotten soon enough, like the lives of his clansmen that gave their lives to protect the rest.

I need to live! So I can seem them again! So I can see my family again!

And he couldn't move. His legs finally gave way as his body began to sink closer to the ground. He had finally reached it. He was out of strength; out of time. He was going to die, despite his wishes. And all he could do, with his shield that was his imprisonment of rock and dirt nearly completely disposed of, all he could do was cry and plead.

All he could do was realise that no matter how determined he was, he was going to die…

Please…

Alone.

Please

Trapped.

Please!

Afraid.

And at last the crushing rocks and dirt were finally removed from him, exposing the Kaiju that lay alone, trapped and afraid underneath the earth he was imprisoned in.

"Please don't hurt me…"

His voice was coarse and trembling, definitely due to the fact he hadn't anything to eat or drink in days. And yet, their was a certain softness to it. A youthful innocence so stark contrast to the roar he gave off during his time defending his clan from the attack. He knew it was useless and pitiful to be pleading to be spared. But what could he do? He had no more strength to offer. He hadn't even had any more words to offer, for as quickly as this soft, youthful and innocent voice had escaped his mouth, it had quickly disappeared and was swept away by the winds.

He was trembling and crying now. He couldn't even brace himself for what was to come, he was that weak. All he did, was continue to wrap his spiked tail around him as his eyes remained tightly shut, his head bowing submissively and unprotected from the two figures that stood in front of him.

He couldn't swallow down his fear, for his mouth was too dry. His whole body couldn't remain still, for it trembled and shook.

And then the figure with wings quickly came closer to him. So quick he hadn't realised…

His eyes opened, seeing the broad daylight for the first time in days. The suns light reflected off his tears, glistening his eyes, making them seem more youthful and alive. His heart was instantly at rest, and he no idea why the trembling ceased. He took one breathe, thinking it was his last. But then, he dared himself to take another.

And then he took another.

And then another.

And then finally realised his 'last breathe' wasn't actually his last one. That he had been spared to take another breathe to continue to fuel his life. And when the thought caught up to him for the final time, only then did he crane his head slightly to the left.

To see the winged creature so close to him.

The winged creature embraced his broad neck, its limbs tightly wrapping around his scales, making sure not to injure itself from the spines atop his head and behind his neck. There was a gentle hum of voice, quickly turning into soft shushing. Before he could even say anything, the winged creature buried its head gently yet adoringly into the side of his head, allowing her own soft fur and furred antennae to lovingly brush and comfort the scales of his own head. She began to caress his face even more now, elegantly stroking her claws slowly and sypthaticly, comforting him even more.

He then cried. Not because of fear or pain like he had done before. He cried…because her touch was so warm. Her soft shushing so familiar despite never having seen her in his life. And her simply showing she cared for him, embracing him like a mother would do to her child; that was enough for him to feel something he didn't think he'd live to feel again.

"It's alright now."

He focused his eyes on her the moment she began to speak, taking in ever detail of her face. Golden, furred antennae. Soft, white fur. A diligent, small beak that somehow expressed so much emotion. And wide, sapphire eyes that shone brighter than the sun itself with a mystifying blue, also weeping with him, as if sharing his grief.

He knew, then and their, her face was one he could instantly trust.

"No one will hurt you anymore."

Her voice was like the softest of songs. So gentle, flowing and motherly, it wrapped itself warmly and tightly around him, from the spiked plates upon his back to the spikes on the thick end of his tail. She continued to brush the fur on her face against him, continuing to shush and hum softly to him, tightening her embrace as her massive, great wings pulsated a comforting, blue light that seemed to embrace him.

From her own touch, to her voice, to the light from her wings. She seemed to embrace everything he was- down to his very soul.

As he continued to stare and cry along side this new Titan's embrace, he hadn't noticed the other, much, much taller and menacing looking figure that stared down towards him, taking in every detail. The other half of the Kaiju pair that had freed him from his imprisonment looked on with an authoritative but protectoral gaze. The figure took note of the once-trapped Titan's entire body, already recognising his species as well as reminding himself of what they were well-known for. The Titan trapped underneath under all the rock, the figure noticed, had a dark greenish colour surround his entire body, highlighting his rough (but not too rough) scales. Beside from that, he had beige-coloured, dulled-out spines that extended themselves, from the one that stood upon his snout, the top of his head and neck, the plates on his back to the thick end of his tail.

He seemed to be a Kaiju that stood on all fours with claws that were rounded, not all that sharp or vicious. The same could be said for his maw and face. His teeth weren't sharpened nor did they bare themselves, and his entire face conveyed a sense of non-hostility and peacefulness. However, the figure was surprised to find the Kaiju's glistening eyes were the same colour as his own. Bright and shining, golden eyes with hints of orange. But there was one unmistakable fact about the Kaiju the figure couldn't ignore- and it made his heart tighten and his whole body go stern.

He was young, small and frail.

"Oh, Gojira…" the winged creature spoke softly again, getting the attention of both the other figure and the Kaiju she embraced, continuing to stroke and caress the spiked Titan, "He's so young…"

Her tears began to well up more at the realisation of her words, her crying visibly softening the other figure's posture as he slowly- surprisingly gently- waded his way closer to them, steadily lowering his body to become face to face with the spiked Titan. But a sudden recollection flashed in the spiked Titan's eyes as his breathing came to a halt.

Gojira?

He looked at the other figure- the other Kaiju- intently, and caught on his breathe the moment he did so. He recognised the familiar coal-black and sharp edges of his dorsal spines. He recognised the dark wash of colour of black and greys across his entire body littered with indestructible scales. He recognised those claws and feet, strengthened and sharpened with conviction and power. But what he didn't recognise was the expression this all-mighty Kaiju wore on his face.

It was uncharacteristically soft- not like the spiked Titan had any quarrel with that. His golden eyes were widened and soft, offering up sympathy and remorse. His breathing was steady and calm, therefore making the spiked Titan that lay on the ground calm and steady as well. And the guttural grumbles from deep within the great Kaiju's throat was gentle, resonating comfortingly within the spiked Titan's whole body. Strangely, as the spiked Titan continued to stare at the great Kaiju coming ever closer to him, he found- much like the winged creature embracing him- this other Kaiju's face was littered with a sense of familiarity and warmness despite his outwards appearance. But if this truly was what the winged Kaiju had said he was…

The spiked Titan began to rise to his feet, struggling in doing so as his knees wobbled and both the winged and great Kaiju looked on in surprise. "…M-My…" the spiked Titan began, trembling even more now as he lowered his head through great labour, "My…Pr-"

The spiked Titan quickly found his leg's strength had left him, and so began to collapse back down onto the ground. But with an amazing speed and gentle care, the great Titan known as Gojira stopped the spiked Titan from hitting the ground, surely clasping his claws by the side of his forearms, before gentle letting the spiked Titan back down onto the ground.

Once again, Gojira and the spiked Titan locked eyes with one another, the spiked Titan now noticing the hints of worry and odd shame present within Godzilla's eyes. "Don't." he commanded, keeping his hold firm and comforting on the spiked Titan, "That's unnecessary."

"Tell me, what is your name?" Godzilla continued after knowing the spiked Titan understood. And though his voice was gruff, deep and authoritarian, the spiked Titan could clearly see the other meaning within The Prince's words.

Please. Take as much time as you need to.

Soon enough, the spiked Titan's soft and youthful voice began to resonate within the world. "Ang…" For a moment, he hesitated on his words. But as he looked to the side and saw the winged creatures comforting and sure smile as she continued to embrace and caress him, the spiked Titan found all the courage he needed, "Anguirus. M-My name is A-Anguirus, my Prince."

"Anguirus." the winged creature softly remarked, as if comprehending a deeper, more intricate meaning towards his otherwise boring name, "That's a beautiful name."

The spiked Titan known as Anguirus looked backed to the winged creature, loving the way her smile grew on her furred face. "My name is Mosura." she said quite jovially, continuing to brush her claws against Anguirus' face.

Mosura… Anguirus thought to himself, feeling even more warmness flourish through him, That's… an even more beautiful name.

But the warmness didn't last; it couldn't last, as Anguirus realised the position he was in. As he remembered the final moments before he found himself trapped. "My Prince…" Anguirus began, a newfound determination and hope coursing through his very soul, 'Please…Please tell me…"

"Where are my parents? Where is the rest of my clan?"

The moment his soft, delicate, naive and innocent voice was once again released out into the world, Godzilla and Mothra couldn't find any comfort from its youthfulness and hopefulness. At Anguirus' question, unable to control themselves, their hearts skipped a beat and their eyes widened. Mothra's great wings shook and began to tremble, and Godzilla's very stomach began to sickly twist into uncomfortable knots that made him wince and tighten his entire body.

Upon hearing the young Anguirus' question, they froze.

"W-We were attacked suddenly." Anguirus continued, his heart tightening at the memory; his stomach making him want to vomit, "Many…many of my clansmen gave their lives to protect those who escaped."

"I…with my own eyes…I watched them escape." Anguirus confidently exclaimed with his head bowed down, allowing the remainder of his tears to fall onto the ground, "They have had to survived. I know they survived."

The more Anguirus thought about them, the more he began to get worked up. He may have just been saved, but all he wanted was to see them again. His eyes quickly checked the area- and the longer he did, the more his heart broke. There was no trace of what he once called home. The place where bloodshed or fighting or war was never to be taken place in had be turned into what was common in the world they lived in.

A scorched, dull battle-ground, devoid of any life.

But Anguirus could move past that, after all, he knew better than anyone home wasn't a place. It never was simply a place. So, within his heartbreak, never noticing Godzilla and Mothra's frozen and still body, Anguirus did his best to bow to the Prince- despite what Godzilla had told him prior. His eyes were shut tight; his tears still fresh, but his heart strengthened by resolve. He was in the presence of Prince Gojira, after all. He was powerful; the strongest their was. So maybe, with pleading eyes and a determined heart, maybe the Prince could lend him some of his strength so that his wish could be granted.

"So, please, I beg of you, my Prince." Anguirus beseeched to the great Titan that stood before him. His voice was shaky and yet somehow firm. It was still soft, and yet powerful enough to highlight his emotion through each word.

"Where is the rest of my clan?"

"Where is the rest of my family?"

Anguirus looked up from his bowing towards the Prince, full of resolution and faithfulness, ready to go anywhere the Prince would say, all so he could reunite with his family. But the air suddenly turned cold as the wind blew on sombrely, echoing its melancholy. The sense of dread, anguish and sadness swept through the three Kaiju as Anguirus' eyes widened with shock, confusion…and sorrow.

For in front of him, on his knees, laid the Prince. His scaled and powerful arms were slumped, his sharpened claws spread themselves out on the destroyed ground- shaking- as they did their best to support his massive weight. His head was bowed down in a solemn, ominous manner in a way that was so close to an earnest, sorrowful apology. No, it was an apology. But what scared Anguirus most; what gave him that sense of dread and distraught, was the Prince's eyes.

He knew the reputation of the Prince. He knew of his tenacity, his wrathful tendencies, his immense and seemingly endless strength, and his ability to close of any and all emotion simply so he could better prepare himself for his future position as King. So, with all that being said…why? Why was the Prince's eyes…so similar to Anguirus' own?

Why was the Prince…crying?

Anguirus was naive and oblivious to a lot of things. But not to this. He had already begun to start crying again, his head already started slowly shaking in disbelief. It just didn't make sense. He was never delusional. He was so sure he watched the remainder of his family disappear and escape the slaughtering and bloodshed. Tremoring even more now, not oblivious to the implications, Anguirus still held onto hope. And this hope would be surely justified by Mothra, who still remained embracing him. Perhaps she had seen something else the Prince hadn't. Given her size and ability of flight, she must have. She surely will provide him warmth like she had done so.

Anguirus craned his head to look and Mothra, desperate for reassurance that he was correct. But that would be his final, fatal nail in the coffin. For his stomach began to twist grossly as his heart and spirit plummeted to the very core of the earth. Her limbs still embraced his neck, but they were shaking and cold. She still caressed his head, but it was more tender, more consoling and much more distraught. And her face was still buried into his neck, but this time, instead of feeling her soft and comforting fur, all Anguirus could feel was the soaking wetness of her tears that cried endlessly as she quietly but heart-brokenly sobbed beside him.

"I'm sorry." Godzilla whispered, his voice so strangely soft and quiet. And, for the second time in his life, time slowed down for Anguirus as Godzilla's miserable and woeful voice spoke his next sentence.

"…You were the only one we could find."

And the Prince's truly apologetic and woeful expression would be the last thing Anguirus saw until he stopped crying. And when his cries began to wail even louder, Mothra quickly and lovingly tightened her hold on him, weeping sorrowfully and empathetically with him. Unable to do anything else beside from cry, Anguirus returned her embrace, burying his own head into her side, his pointed snout tucked away deeply into her fur, both Mothra's fur and Anguirus' scales now wet and quivering. Through all her weeping, Mothra tried her best to comfort Anguirus, once again softly and warmly humming against him, taking in more of his weight once Anguirus began to push closer against her, begging for more comfort.

"I am so sorry…" Mothra breathed out, her heart breaking more and more the longer she listened to the young Kaiju's cries, "I am…so, so…sorry…"

Their cries numbed Godzilla's physical pain, for as he watched on with great anguish and regret, he hadn't realised his claws had dug themselves deeper and deeper into his scaled palm the more he clenched them, drawing warm blood. If only…if only he was truly there for all those who lived in this Kingdom.

The Prince reached out his claw towards Anguirus, hesitated for a mere moment, before ultimately placing his claw gently atop the side of Anguirus's body, knowing he was too deep in mourning to realise it. "I swear to you. On my title as the Prince- as the future King…" Godzilla softly growled out, his body tightening as he tried to recollect himself, his dorsal plates now softly pulsating a determined blue, finalising the promise he was to make, "I swear to you, we will take you somewhere safe. We will keep you protected."

"We will make sure nothing like this ever happens again."

But his words fell on deaf ears- and Godzilla knew this. For Anguirus couldn't concentrate on his words. He couldn't concentrate on anything. He could no longer feel Godzilla's sure and secure claw that grasped firmly on his shoulder nor the comforting caresses of Mothra who cried with him. He couldn't hear her soft humming and words of both apologies and reassurance. He could no longer see the desolate wasteland he once lived in nor the daylight he so dearly missed whilst trapped underneath rock and dirt as his eyes remained shut and wet. He couldn't smell the left-over destruction; he couldn't taste the dryness of his throat.

All Anguirus could do- all he did- was weep.

Weep for the home he lost.

Weep for his fallen family.

And weep for that younger, smaller and frailer child…

…that he could not save.


So, as per the tags and rating on this book, this won't be the same genre as 'Moments of Peace.'

Chapters will get dark, chapters will get fluffy, chapters will get sad and chapters will get wholesome.

If you can, tell me what you think about this please. I've never really written 'dark' or 'tragedy' before, although I have written sad chapters in Moments of Peace that were quite well recieved.

Fun fact about this book, this was supposed be a one-shot book with small glimpses of Anguirus' life through them. But, obviously, I just added more to this and now it will work as a book. Either way, I'm quite happy how this turned out!

Thanks for reading!