by stormbreath
GREENLAND — 1998
"The greatest weapon you can offer is your own heart."
"Fire."
Mikasa Kaori and Perseus Rosales reach down and flip open the plastic protectors surrounding two bright red buttons, then slam the buttons down in sync with one another. Signals race through the circuitry of their steel colossus, down from the switchboards in the head, right to the controls of the heart. This is their final weapon, their last resort: the world's final hope.
Portals open around the miniature star that lies in a sub-dimensional space, buried and powering the titan. Energy, heat and light surges out. It explodes outwards, through the vent at the center. Had it worked correctly, the discharge of energy would have been enough to save the world and to rescue the Serpent from the hungry jaws of the crocosquid.
This does not happen. The vents jam. There is an error in the mechanisms, a flaw from production. The weapon is a last-resort: it has not been field-tested. Gears grind in place against each other — click, click, click — and the metal gates stay closed. The blast, with no release, rattles around the body, and vaporizes the controls. The housing unit collapses, and the mech is gone.
The Serpent only has a brief moment to see this. It knows what has happened — the gifts of prescience and knowledge make this clear. All too clear, really. It feels its death before it happens. The fires come first, burning it to death. Then, the crocosquid will lean down and devour it, consuming it to the bone. The Serpent embodies the yet-to-be corpse and feels the teeth sink into the cooked flesh. She will have won. The battle will have been lost.
The visions don't end. She will turn to the other foe, and rip it apart. Eating the Serpent will make her wiser, smarter. She will know what to do, as she reaches in and pulls out the burning stellar heart. She doesn't know how to properly handle it at the moment. But the Serpent does, and in eating it she will gain all its knowledge. She will swallow the little sun in one gulp.
Everything moves quicker. For years she will race around the world, devouring and burning all that stand before her, the new goddess of the sun and knowledge. And when this world is exhausted, she will turn her vision elsewhere and reach out through the branches of the World-Tree, rampaging forever.
The Serpent's death wail might just be the most beautiful sound the world has ever heard, and equally tragic.
WYOMING — 2023
"Alright, Leslie! Remember the plan: 100 cs at 15 minutes, harass the enemy as much as you can and when you know they are going to be low in a few minutes, call for a gank from your jungler and deward ahead of time."
"Yep! I've got it all down to —"
The roar that interupts Leslie is deafening. It shakes the foundations of Site-78 almost like an earthquake, if not for the fact that it came from up, high in the site. From the sky. Glasses shatters, and computers rattle and crash off the tables they had been resting on. Great, thunderous booms follow, like massive objects have crashed out of the sky and into the site. There is a sweltering heat in the site.
Researcher Gregory Chudley — formerly a star 'pataphysist before an unexpected career change into the significantly less interesting Department of Mundane Artifacts and Uneventful Data Evaluation — slowly rises to the ground. The site isn't level anymore, and he has to brace himself against the wall to make it to the exit. His hands are cupped, and inside is his potential partner of a few weeks: a cyborg mosquito named Leslie.
It is an unusual romance, and one that they aren't entirely sure what it is yet. They've only had a few dates so far, and half of those have consisted of playing League of Legends together. The match they had just been playing was meant to be one of those dates, before it had been rudely interrupted by what seems like a volcanic eruption.
"Are you okay, Leslie?"
Leslie's voice comes back, tinny and small.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Do you know what that is? Is everything okay? I'm scared."
Gregory groans, and gropes for his phone. There is an emergency bulletin plastered across the screen: ANOMALOUS ENTITY MANIFESTED IN SKY ABOVE SITE-78. LARGE PARTS OF INSTALLATION DAMAGED. VEIL AT RISK. This isn't good. They're not safe here; Leslie and him are going to need to get somewhere safer and quick.
"No idea. But we need to move. Come on, there's safe bunkers elsewhere."
The eruption has knocked the ground off level, and Gregory has to arduously and slowly climb out into the higher hallway. Leslie doesn't have a problem getting to the exit, and scouts out the entrance for anything dangerous on her way up. It's empty — there's nothing around. She calls back to Gregory that everything is safe, and he curses at the fact he is not in great physical condition.
Another text alert comes in. Somehow, Gregory knows that this one will be agonizing to read. He looks down and sees another alert banner: CROCOSQUID FROM TIMELINE WHERE SHE ATE SERPENT HAS APPEARED IN SKY. HAS SOLAR POWERS, POSSIBLY DIVINE. Wonderful. There's another below it, one that was sent direct to him. GET YOUR ASS TO THE PATA PHYSICS LAB MJ. Groan.
"Alright, Leslie. Change of plans. We need to get to the 'pataphysics lab. Seems like they only want me for one thing at the moment."
"Is that safe? Are we supposed to help? I thought you said quit that?"
Gregory has already begun storming off through the unlit tunnels, by now too angry to care about the fact they are at an angle and filled with debris. Leslie buzzes past him (she isn't the type to care about what angle the floor is at) without a concern.
"I can't imagine it's worse than here. Anyway, I did. I hated being the one who had to hold the world up. I wanted something simpler, something that didn't make me at the center. That's what I thought I was getting away from. But they always pull me back."
"Sorry."
"Yeah, that's the thing. You can't be. That's the thing about all this: if I don't do this right now, the world ends. You can't be the one to refuse the call to adventure, but I just wish it wasn't my number."
"That's — yeah. Really scummy. The Foundation isn't exactly the uh, type that really…"
Leslie stops. Gregory has just opened up a bulkhead door, and instead of looking out into the next hallway, the pair are looking directly into the sky, like they are lying on their backs on a clear summer day. A cloud floats by, directly in front of them, oriented like they are the ground. They look both ways, and see a while away the edges of the effect. It is like a fragment of a stained glass painting, at the edges. Gregory pulls out his phone, and looks for the more detailed incident reports.
"Reports that the 'sky has been shattered' by the emergence of the crocosquid. Large chunks of 'unknown material resembling sky' have impacted Site-78. Crocosquid has not yet fully emerged from 'hole in sky' created by emergence. Great. Just great."
"What does that mean, Gregory?"
"It means we're taking the long way around."
An hour later, they crawl into the empty 'pataphysics lab. Well, more accurately, Leslie slips in through an air vent, interfaces with the electronic controls, tries to open the door, only manages to get the door open about a foot before it jams, and Gregory crawls into the 'pataphysics lab. He curses again as he makes it inside, and takes a moment to catch his breath.
The 'pataphysics laboratory resembles a library more than it does a scientific laboratory. There's a silent reading room that happens to resemble a fume hood, designed to clean out any narrative detritus caused by testing, and several ritual lecterns that were designed by committee for scientific accuracy. The walls are lined with books.
Leslie lands on Gregory's shoulder, and turns her entire body to face him. The effect is subtle, and Gregory doesn't even notice that she's facing him, just that she's on his shoulder. He climbs to one of the ladders on the bookshelves, and begins to skim through the titles on the book spines.
"So what's the plan?"
"Summon up a giant monster and save the world. What else can we do."
"That's something you can do?"
Gregory pulls a copy of Moby Dick off the shelves and mutters something about blasphemy, before throwing it down behind him, where it crashes into one of the piles of books and knocks it to the ground. He winces in pain at the mistake, but it doesn't really matter at the moment. He pulls an encylopedia of dragon myths off the shelf, and keeps it on the ladder.
"No, normally I wouldn't be able to do anything like this. But in circumstances where a giant monster is already present, the narrative will take more pushing in that direction. The first giant monster is hard, near impossible. The second is so easy you barely have to try."
"So what's the plan? We summon up Godzilla and let him get to work?"
"Nah. For some reason we don’t quite understand, our universe is narratively incompatible with stories that aren't a part of the public domain. We've never been able to incarnate a character from a work that isn't."
"So whatever monster we want to use has to be public domain?"
"Yeah, and that really limits our options. I think all we really have access to is mythology, but I'm worried those are too generic. The narrative won't be strong enough. A generic dragon might be our best bet, but to fight the sun?"
"What about Kong?"
"Huh?"
"Merle told me about it. Apparently the rights to the original novel expired and Kong is a public domain character. Only the version from the novel but that should be enough."
Gregory kicks the ladder and spins around the library. In a stroke of incredible luck, the Foundation has a copy of Delos Lovelace's novelization of King Kong. Presumably, it is here for this exact purpose — saving the world. Gregory rips it off the shelf and is comforted to see a sticker plastered on the front: "PUBLIC DOMAIN - CCBYSA30 COMPLIANT".
"Oh my god. That's right. And he's got the experience necessary to punch through the ‘pataphysical defenses — he fights giant monsters all the time, even in the original novel. Kong fights dinosaurs on Skull Mountain Island… Plus he has cultural cachet — if we have any hope at all…"
"Are we actually doing this?"
Gregory steps down and begins to prepare the 'pataphysical summoning equipment, unfolding the book on one of the lecterns in the lab. Leslie interfaces with the controls: lights dim, gas-powered ritual torches flick on, and ambient music begins to play.
"We are, yeah. I think this might be the only hope we have."
He flips through the copy of King Kong, finding the moment when Kong himself first enters the narrative in the flesh. This is the moment to incarnate him into the Real, to bring him from the page and into the world. He slowly begins to recite:
"Behind her she was aware of a closer, deeper shout, and of a Shadow. She turned her head. Then, while her eyes widened, the Shadow split the black cloak of the precipice and became solidly real. Blinking up at the packed wall, its vast mouth roared defiance, its black, furred hands drummed a black, furred breast in challenge…"
Kong, titular character of the 1932 novel King Kong, emerges from the wreckage of Site-78 brandishing a lengthy fragment of rebar and concrete. The Foundation helicopters surrounding the wreckage begin to circle him, not the goddess in the sky above. Leslie and Gregory failed to tell anyone of their plan, and absolutely no one is expecting the addition of the greatest ape to an already dramatic situation.
Almost miraculously, the Foundation doesn't immediately open fire on Kong. Perhaps it is just shock, being completely unprepared for the change in situation. Perhaps it is the hope, the seeming logic that one giant monster will immediately fight the other. That's how it works in the movies, isn't it?
There is a moment of silence as Kong and the crocosquid stare at each other, sizing the other up. The crocosquid floats in the air, nestled in the broken sky, fragmented like pottery. Behind her, through the holes, lies the void of the night. She shines, brilliant and golden, in the middle. Kong, in comparison, is nothing. But he's had worse fights. At once, the silence breaks and the two roar at each other. They charge.
The crocosquid propels herself through the air at Kong, only to be caught in the face with the sledge of concrete that he is carrying. The blow sends her crashing into the rubble, her face broken and indented. Kong starts to circle her warily, but it isn't any time at all before she is standing again, ready to fight, wounds already healed. She lunges again. Kong tries to swing with the club again, but it has already melted from the first blow.
The blow staggers her and keeps her away for a few seconds, and he uses that time to leap back and up one of the largest piles of rubble. She's larger than him — although not by much — and he needs to be smart about this. She screeches at him and starts charging up the rubble. She's faster than you'd expect for something that doesn't have legs.
Kong is still holding the segment of rebar from earlier. He throws it like a javelin and strikes true, getting her dead on in her right-most eye. She screams louder and takes a moment to yank the rebar out of her skull. Flesh knits itself back together, and she blinks the regenerated eye a few times to make sure it works.
The solar crocosquid tries to turn back to Kong, but he has already begun throwing large chunks of concrete at her. None of the blows are enough to stop her or wound her, but they're enough to stagger, to hold her at bay for a few moments. She hisses, and begins to glow brighter and hotter. Kong can barely see her anymore, and he starts missing. The ground below the crocosquid begins to melt.
The glow begins to fade. Kong looks back, hopeful that he has a chance, before realizing that this is not a break. The glow isn't vanishing — it's being condensed, pulled in tighter. The crocosquid glows even brighter from her eyes, from her mouth, from the gills. Kong is out of cover. The crocosquid has a line of sight. The greatest weapon you can offer is that of your own heart.
A thick sunbeam cuts through the battlefield, slicing the rubble in half. Kong is quick, but not enough — the sunbeam singes and burns him. Fortunately, it is not enough to kill him, but he is badly wounded, and unlike his foe, he can't just walk off his injuries. The crocosquid catches her breath, and then another sunbeam. This time, Kong has narrowly gotten cover, and avoids the attack.
Kong isn't winning this fight. If Kong wants to have any chance at all, he needs a better weapon. Crocosquids have only ever been killed by a single incredible blow, struck with purpose and narrative impact. He needs something with mythical importance — a weapon to shake the very heavens. But there isn't anything around here that can do that.
But maybe Heaven itself will be enough.
In the seconds between gouts of flame, Kong grabs one of the broken fragments of the sky, and holds in a single palm. It is a small weapon (in comparison to Kong and his opponent), but it has the power Kong needs. He twirls around, spinning in a circle, and releases his grip on the weapon.
With a sickening crack, the weapon passes clean through the crocosquid's head and splits it in half, not even slightly slowed down by impact. Her skulls flops over to each side, with a massive rush of crimson blood streaming down her torso. The shard of heaven passes through the head and floats back up into the air, where it collides with a portion of the broken sky and seals itself back into place.
At once, the fire and light is cut out of the crocosquid, and it crashes down to the ground, smashing more of Site-78. Blood bubbles out of the split head. For long, agonizing seconds, Kong and the rest of the gathered Foundation personnel watch in horror to see if the crocosquid will regenerate from the wound. This is, after all, her most famous and best regarded trick. She can come back from almost anything, almost immediately.
But this is one of the few things she can't. The head doesn't start reforming. It just lies there, dead. Kong howls at the sky and slams his fists upon his chest. The Foundation — what is left of it at least — begins to cheer and shout from their vantage points around the rubble.
"Well!" Said Leslie. "That was a sight. I never thought the Foundation'd get her."
"The Foundation didn't get her," Chudley replied slowly.
"What?"
"It was a Beautiful Monkey. As always. A Beautiful Monkey killed the Beast."
Leslie's puzzled frown grew deeper.
SHE IS HER OWN LOCATION — 2023
The crocosquid, radiant and resplendent in her solar glory, looks out from the center of the solar system she has situated herself in. The miniature star she ate twenty-five years was not the first she ate, nor will it be the last. But she is not hungry at the moment, and she is waiting at the location of her last meal.
She looks out through space and time, surveying all. There is a pang of sadness in her heart: one of her daughters has fallen. She has so many, but she loves all of them the same. They have all gone off from her, scouring the galaxies and looking for their own worlds and universes to rule, but the mother keeps an eye on them all.
The radiant crocosquid unfurls herself. Her rear tentacles — now thousands of kilometers long — uncoil from having been wrapped around her in a blanket. She stretches out, her arms shorter than the tentacles but with incredible scale. She is so large now she doesn't know what to do with herself anymore.
This will not do. She cannot allow one of her children to die from an ape.
This is my submission to RomCon, featuring Leslie the mosquito from OthellotheCat, Gregory Chudley from SYTYCFanon and my own crocosquid! Be sure to check out Othello's entry here!