(A/N: Bonus chapter! Hope you enjoy it!)
───「 Human POV 」───
From the deep sea, colorless and odorless harbingers of death surfaced.
Some scattered across the seabed like invisible sentinels. Others broke through the water's surface, forming a deadly fog that billowed above the turbulent waves.
The mist grew more intense with each passing minute.
Twenty minutes had passed since the Oxygen Destroyer's activation. Now, a thin layer of fog hovered over the ocean, rising silently from the depths like death itself—quiet, patient, inevitable. It drifted toward the shore with glacial purpose.
The lethal fog finally made landfall on the Australian continent.
On the beach, a colony of unusual creatures went about their business, oblivious to the approaching danger. Shrimp-like beings with hardened shells emerged from small burrows they had excavated in the sand.
"Chirp, chirp? Kata-kata?"
These creatures resembled beetles but were much more formidable. Their thick shells, composed of metal alloys, could withstand even human bullets. Each possessed eight legs and two front limbs used for digging—appendages resembling small shields. Their bodies gleamed dark greenish-black in the waning sunlight.
Their heads, protected by the same shell armor, featured two small protrusions—something between stunted antennae and elongated bumps. Each creature, larger than an adult man's fist, cautiously surveyed its surroundings with multi-colored, partially black eyes while continuing to excavate, constantly vigilant for aerial predators.
Together with dozens of their kind, they worked tirelessly to construct a new colony.
Strictly speaking, they couldn't be classified as insects due to their ten legs. From a taxonomic perspective, they appeared to be relatives of hermit crabs. If human scientists had discovered them, they might have classified them under the infraorder Anomura, superfamily Paguroidea, and family Diogenidae—likely establishing an entirely new genus.
That was their external biological classification.
But genetically, they were something else entirely.
The Godzilla virus had fundamentally altered their genetic makeup—not merely the structure of their DNA, but their mitochondria had undergone complete transformation. These organelles no longer produced ATP molecules as cellular currency. Instead, the Godzilla virus had reprogrammed them to synthesize a new, more efficiently preserved high-energy molecule, dramatically increasing energy utilization in infected organisms.
Moreover, these infected creatures had developed the ability to synthesize a nitrogen-containing macromolecule with highly vigorous reactivity and energy density surpassing conventional sugars. This allowed Godzilla-infected life forms to function at levels far beyond existing organisms.
From an energy transfer perspective, the ecosystem created by Godzilla achieved an astonishing transmission rate of seventy to eighty percent. A carnivore consuming ten kilograms of meat could, after excretion, gain seven additional kilograms of body mass—an efficiency utterly impossible in Earth's natural ecosystem.
The difference lay not just in digestive capacity but in fundamental biochemistry. While evolution in the natural world had merely optimized existing chemical structures—essentially surface-level adaptations—Godzilla had achieved something revolutionary. This new evolution optimized chemical structures while transforming the very chemistry constituting life itself.
This was Godzilla's ecosystem. A complete departure from the world that came before.
These new creatures—which humans might have named "Godzilla Hermit Crabs"—continued constructing their colony on the beach. Seventy or eighty of them worked in perfect synchronization, displaying social behaviors impossible for their counterparts in Earth's original ecosystem.
These creatures had evolved from a single stag beetle, transformed by the Godzilla virus. Sharing a common origin, they maintained an extraordinary bond with one another.
On this second day after their metamorphosis, they began building their permanent home.
Dig, dig, dig.
The creatures excavated the sand with methodical precision, completely unaware of the looming threat. Although their large eyes could simultaneously monitor the sky and ground for predators, they had no defense against the approaching fog.
As the white mist encroached from the sea, the first to experience its effects were the hermit crabs working near the shore.
"Chirp, chirp, chirp..."
One crab, carrying soil from the burrow entrance, suddenly experienced blurred vision. Then came a wave of heat surrounding its eyes.
"Wow, wow, wow, wow."
It waved its front claws frantically, unable to comprehend what was happening. The burning sensation spread rapidly—not just its eyes but its entire body began to feel as if scorched by invisible flames. The joints between shell plates, the depths of its throat, the spaces between eyes and carapace—everything burned.
Acting on genetic instinct, the hermit crab rushed toward the water, believing it could dilute the burning sensation. This desperate act only led it toward a more concentrated form of death.
Covering its eyes with its claws, the creature scurried toward the ocean on eight short legs. With each step closer to the water, its body temperature rose higher, accompanied by an intensifying sizzling sound.
"Wow... wow... ah... ah..."
One by one, its legs broke off. It attempted to warn its companions, but only corrosive bubbles and melting cellular matter emerged from its mouth. Within twenty seconds, all movement ceased.
Its entire body—now reduced to a liquefying mass—dissolved slowly in the white fog. Even its supposedly impenetrable shell burned away in the chemical mist.
Inside the burrow, the remaining crabs noticed that soil was no longer being removed from the entrance by their companions.
Several hermit crabs called out but received no response from those outside.
What had happened?
Three or four creatures ceased their digging and crawled toward the entrance, only to encounter the same fate.
The burning sensation began in their eyes. The hermit crabs nearest the entrance emitted sounds of agony, alerting those deeper in the burrow who were still digging.
They crawled upward anxiously, instinctively moving to aid their suffering companions.
And at that moment...
The white fog entered.
───「 Human POV 」───
The deadly mist surged inland, silently devouring everything in its path—living or dead. Nothing could impede its progress as it rolled forth from the sea toward the heart of the continent.
Indifferent to all forms of life, the fog engulfed everything it touched, bestowing death with perfect equality. Even the most basic cellular structures incinerated upon contact.
Against this implacable destroyer of life, a massive figure appeared on the horizon.
Godzilla.
───「 GODZILLA POV 」───
I sensed it before I saw it—the wrongness in the air. A corruption spreading from the sea.
My newly created ecosystem was screaming in agony. Thousands of connections in my network—gone. Silenced. The tiny creatures I had helped evolve were dying by the second.
This was the humans' answer to my presence. Not bombs or bullets, but something far worse—a weapon designed to attack life at its most fundamental level.
I could feel the burn of it even at this distance. The molecules that comprised this fog were engineered specifically to destroy oxygen bonds. To unmake life itself.
My body tensed as I assessed the threat. This was not something I could simply withstand or regenerate through. This required immediate action.
The humans believed they had trapped me. They thought their chemical barrier would contain me in Australia until their other enemy arrived.
They had miscalculated. Severely.
I moved toward the advancing fog, my cells already adapting, analyzing, preparing. If I couldn't stop this death cloud, my entire plan would fail before it truly began.
The fog continued its relentless approach, and I braced myself for the confrontation.
This would be my first true test since awakening.