Terra Monstrum

Prologue

August 24th, 2019. That was the last straw.

The French and Japanese had been stuck in a desperate sea battle with Godzilla for close to a day. They'd assembled an international strike force to intercept his path to the mainland and, as a secondary objective, also declared intent to detain him. Back in Los Angeles, I was watching from my wonky little flat screen, seeing the grainy footage of pulses and explosions in the distance. All of the major news channels had been broadcasting it since dawn, interspersing the footage with hyperbolic reports about how well the task force was doing and how this would definitely be the time they finally got Godzilla. We all knew better, of course, but I don't think any of us could have predicted where things were about to go.

The live footage stopped coming in around six o' clock. Godzilla had reportedly dove underwater and fled, but nobody was saying why or where he was going. We didn't find out until almost an hour later.

Monster Island was in ruins. Godzilla had circled around the French-Japanese task force and gone in the opposite direction they'd wanted, crashing through the chemical and electrical barriers that'd successfully repelled him before and making landfall on Chichijima. The multi-billion dollar research and containment facility that'd given the world peace of mind for over twenty years was now a burning pile of rubble, and all of Earth's kaiju were free.

The United Nations met as soon as they could. They had been arguing about the cost of Monster Island's upkeep for years, but now the issue had been resolved in the worst way possible, and every country involved was reeling from the loss. Worse still, the kaiju would all have to be reined in again, an affair that would be neither easy nor cheap. After several days of non-stop negotiations and bitter in-fighting, the UN finally agreed that enough was enough and solemnly announced that unprecedented measures were about to be taken.

We all knew what that meant back in the US. After sixty five years of getting razed to the ground, Japan had finally caved on their policy and done the unthinkable: the UN was going to nuke Godzilla.

Any doubts we might've had were dispelled when they officially announced the new program on New Year's Day. Operation Destroy All Monsters.

The world was all abuzz about it for about half a year. There were protests, petitions, public debates, and TV specials. I remember arguing about it with my coworkers almost every day. Everyone seemed to have a different opinion on whether or not it would work, or if it was wise. The talks only grew more intense when word got out that the operation would be openly discussed and commenced at the next summit.

September 25th, 2020 rolled around, and true to their word, the UN dropped the bomb. Just not the one we were expecting.

I remember where I was when it happened. I was walking down the street to head home after work and saw everyone gathered around the corner store's TV display. I pushed my way in just in time to see it step out of the shadows. The eyes lit up and it detached itself from a dozen or so cables that were bigger around than my whole garage. 120 meters tall, the announcer said. 160,000 metric tons. They called it the Mark V.

I don't know how they got it done so fast. It must have already been in construction long before they gave D.A.M. the go ahead. All I know is it was supposed to be very comforting and impressive, but the only reaction it got out of me was laughter. It was imposing enough, sure, but another Mechagodzilla? Really? How many times did that plan have to fail before we stopped using it? All I could think of was how much debt the UN countries were already in, and how much worse-off we'd be if this thing blew up in their face.

The following week didn't do much to sway my opinion. The UN paraded the Mark V all around for photo shoots and test drives, and made a big publicity stunt out of it. All flash and no substance, I felt. A placebo. A farce.