Chapter 41: The God and the Blade
An oppressive silence reigned as Godzilla advanced. He didn't need to roar or glare to assert dominance—his presence alone was suffocating.
In the grim darkness of the far future, this monstrous titan somehow looked right at home among the gothic architecture of the hive city—ashen towers, decaying spires, and steel cathedrals bent under centuries of ashfall.
The Ultramarines stood frozen. Even through ceramite and faith, they felt it—that smothering pressure that gripped the lungs and clenched the spine. The beast wasn't here for them, and yet the air itself seemed to tremble in his wake.
Godzilla lumbered past the top level of the hive tower, not sparing the Astartes so much as a glance. His destination lay beyond, elsewhere.
A smaller group of lizardmen followed in his shadow. Towering and blood-slicked, they advanced toward the Ultramarine line. The leader stood over three meters tall, his scaled body coated in the gore of Chaos. The Astartes had to tilt their helms up slightly to meet his gaze—rare indeed for warriors who were themselves giants.
Unarmored, a Space Marine stood a little over two meters tall. In full Mk. X power armor, closer to two and a half. Yet this reptilian behemoth still dwarfed them.
"He's bigger than Chapter Master Calgar in his armor," one Ultramarine muttered.
"Want to try him?" another asked, tightening his grip on his chainsword, thumb hovering near the ignition rune.
"Stand down. Now's not the time."
Ultramarines didn't shy away from battle, but they understood tactics. And tact.
The lizardmen spoke, a low series of growls and hisses that made no sense to the Ultramarines.
"Can anyone understand what he's saying?"
"No clue."
Just then, a new voice interrupted.
"He says you're in his way, little man."
The Astartes turned. A tall woman approached from the rear ranks of the lizardmen, flanked by two even larger reptilian guards. She wore a long, ceremonial cloak, and her psychic aura flickered faintly like heat-haze.
"My name is Isis," she said with a polite nod. "Servant of my god, and his chosen emissary."
"You speak Low Gothic?" Carrion, the sergeant, asked warily.
"Low Gothic isn't hard to learn," Isis replied smoothly. "Scan a few of your crude brains, and the syntax becomes obvious enough."
She was no human psyker—that much was clear—but the Ultramarines didn't lower their weapons.
One of them leveled his bolter before Carrion knocked it gently aside.
"Stand down. For now."
Isis smiled. "You don't need to be so hostile. If we hadn't arrived, your glorious crusade would be so much corpses by now—another lost world swallowed by Chaos. You could at least pretend to be grateful."
"Forgive us," Carrion said tightly. "It's been some time since any of us have had cause to relax."
"Can we pass now?" she asked.
Carrion hesitated. "I'd ask if you could take a detour."
The surrounding lizardmen shifted, growling and gripping weapons.
Isis burst into laughter. "Listen to you! A hairless monkey asking us to take a detour. You're in our way, and if you don't move, we'll walk straight through you."
That did it. Both sides bristled. Bolters and plasma guns lifted, claws and bone-forged axes raised. One wrong twitch and this hive spire would turn into a slaughterhouse.
"I'll say it only once more," Isis said coldly. "Move aside, human."
To her credit, she was being uncharacteristically polite. Godzilla had a strange fondness for humanity, and so Isis restrained herself—barely. But even her patience had limits.
Then Carrion made his decision.
"Stand down!" he barked.
The Ultramarines hesitated—but obeyed. Their fury remained, but so did their discipline.
"Wise choice," Isis said, not bothering to hide her smirk.
She strode through the line without another word, her warriors following. True to their word, the lizardmen didn't attack. And though the Ultramarines trailed them, the gap between the two forces never closed.
Truth be told, even this small band of reptilian warriors could likely tear through the Ultramarine force if it came to blows. The disparity in power was painfully obvious.
"You don't need to follow us," Isis said over her shoulder. "We're not here for humans. Our quarry lies at the heart of Chaos's rituals."
"Are you their leader?" Carrion asked.
"I told you," she said without turning. "I'm the voice of our god."
"God…" Carrion whispered, still shaken by the memory of Godzilla's passing. His massive frame. That soul-crushing aura.
Isis nodded. "Just as Chaos has its Dark Gods, and you have your Emperor… we have our own."
"The false gods of Chaos are nothing before the Emperor!" an Ultramarine snapped.
In that, the Imperium and Chaos shared a trait—they each believed all other divinities were false.
Isis simply smiled. "I won't debate theology. We follow our god, you follow yours. The strength of gods is proven in victory, not words."
She didn't need to boast. Godzilla's presence was proof enough.
They reached the far edge of the city. The ground trembled. Thick black smoke coiled up from the skyline, rising from the shattered ruins of a Chaos temple.
Godzilla stood in the rubble, having just flattened the fifth sacrificial site with a single stomp. The terrain, once shaped into an altar of skulls and blood, now sprayed bone and ichor in all directions.
A direct insult to Khorne.
But the Blood God could do nothing. The Warp on this world had grown too stable—its tides suppressed by something deep and primal. Khorne's champions raged, but their demonic legions could not break through.
Somewhere in the Immaterium, Slaanesh and Tzeentch laughed.
This round, Khorne had lost. It was time to change players.
Soon, Slaanesh would rise to the board.
But it was already too late. Godzilla moved with cold efficiency, annihilating the remaining three ritual sites before the day was done.
[Mission Complete. Current Accumulated Points: 400.]
[Optional Reward: Choose one — War Dragon Godzilla / New Age Godzilla]
'Phew,' Godzilla exhaled deeply, standing amidst the broken remnants of the hive spire. Fires raged, rubble smoldered.
He didn't move.
To the lizardmen, this was nothing strange. Their god had lived for epochs beyond counting. If he wished to stand motionless for hours—or even sleep in the middle of a battlefield—so be it.
Godzilla stared down at the glowing text of the mission reward.
'Can't I have both?' he asked.
[Please refrain from unreasonable demands. Thank you.]
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