[POV: SYRANTHUS]

It was dark when I woke up, a darkness so profound that it felt as if the shadows themselves had weight, pressing against my ancient bones. I felt empty—hollow. An aching void gnawed at me, a feeling of loss that ran deeper than memory. As if nothing had been the same since I went to sleep, hundreds of thousands of years ago, when the world was still wild and free, untouched by the hands of those who dared to call themselves rulers of the earth.

My eyes opened slowly, heavy and stiff, the sockets dry and gritty as they adjusted to the dim light. At first, all I could see was dust swirling in the air, illuminated by beams of sunlight filtering through cracks in the stone above me. My vision sharpened, and I beheld my own form, scattered before me in broken fragments. I was skeletal, a bony husk of what I once was, my massive ribs exposed like the remains of a long-forgotten carcass.

A growl rumbled deep within my chest—a sound that shook the earth and made the stone walls tremble. It felt foreign, as if it were echoing from another world. I flexed my talons, the jagged claws scraping against the stone floor with a sharp, grating noise. Dust and debris crumbled around me, and the bones began to shift.

I breathed.

Power surged through me, a current of ancient energy that reignited my very being. My scales began to return, billowing over me like smoke, rippling across my skeletal frame, bringing life back to my withered form. The sensation was exhilarating—a tingling, prickling feeling as my flesh regenerated, reconnecting muscle and sinew. My wings, long and majestic, tightened and stretched, their leathery membranes flexing as I arched my back.

I felt my strength returning, the weight of my own body settling comfortably as if reuniting with an old friend. My horns curved proudly from my skull, sharp and gleaming, catching the light as I turned my head. My tail lashed behind me, cracking the ground like a whip, sending shards of stone skittering across the temple floor.

A sound caught my attention—a scream, high-pitched and shrill. It grated on my senses, piercing through the fog of my awakening. My eyes narrowed, blazing with a furious crimson light as I looked down. My wings lay sprawled atop a gaping hole in the temple floor, the place I had chosen as my resting bed, the very cradle of my ancient slumber.

Humans.

I saw them now, scurrying like insects, their tiny forms pale and fragile, faces twisted in fear. Their scent filled my nostrils—sweat, dirt, and the sour stench of terror. I could hear their rapid heartbeats, their breath coming in gasps as they stumbled over each other in their desperation to flee.

Human, I hissed, the word slithering through my thoughts, dripping with contempt. Stupid humans. They were always meddling, always digging, always trying to control what they could not possibly understand.

My lip curled back, revealing rows of jagged teeth, still sharpening as my form continued to regenerate. These creatures were weak—pitiful things that thought themselves powerful simply because they walked on two legs. I watched them scuttle away, their fear palpable, feeding the fire that simmered within my chest.

They're trying to lock me up.

The thought coiled around my mind, cold and venomous. I saw the remnants of the containment field, the faint hum of energy that still clung to the air, the stone carvings etched with ancient runes meant to suppress my power. Anger flared hot and fierce, my tail lashing again, this time smashing into a pillar that crumbled like dry sand.

Fools. Did they not understand? I was Titanus Syrantus, Queen of the Skies, Mistress of Storms. I had ruled this world long before their ancestors crawled from the muck, and I would rule again.

I took another breath, deeper this time, feeling the heat gather within me, the ancient energy sparking along my spine. My wings flexed, shaking off the last of the dust as they unfurled, stretching wide and mighty, blotting out the light. The temple trembled beneath my weight, the very foundations groaning in protest.

They woke me from my slumber.

They dared to disturb my rest.

I would remind them why I was feared. Why my name was spoken in whispers, even among titans.

I would make them remember.

SCENEBREAK

I had just emerged from the cage that those cursed humans had confined me in. The remnants of their pathetic containment field crackled weakly behind me, shattered pieces of stone and metal strewn about like broken toys. My wings stretched out, catching the icy wind as it howled through the craggy peaks that surrounded me. Snow billowed around my feet, swirling in frenzied spirals, but I paid it no mind. I was free once more, and the world felt both familiar and foreign—changed in ways I could not yet comprehend.

But then, a shift.

The ground beneath me trembled, a deep, rhythmic vibration that resonated through the earth itself. I stilled, talons digging into the frozen ground as my senses sharpened. The air grew heavy, charged with an ancient power that made my scales prickle. Then I caught it—a scent carried on the wind, faint but unmistakable. A scent that stirred memories from long before my slumber, back when the world was ruled by titans.

My head whipped around, eyes narrowing as I peered toward the churning ocean that stretched endlessly before me. Waves crashed against the jagged cliffs, their fury growing as the water began to roil. The sea seemed to boil, frothing and seething, as if some great beast was stirring beneath its surface. My wings folded tightly against my body, muscles coiling in anticipation.

And then I saw them—dorsal plates, jagged and menacing, slicing through the water like the fins of a demon shark. They glowed faintly, an eerie blue luminescence that pulsed with raw power. The sea parted, and the great titan rose from its depths, water cascading off his massive form as he loomed before me. His scales were the color of midnight, shimmering with an ancient, primal energy. His eyes, glowing a fierce shade of azure, locked onto mine with a look that could pierce stone.

Godzilla.

The King of the Monsters.

He stood there, chest heaving, his colossal frame dwarfing even my own. The ocean roared around him, the very air vibrating with his presence. The earth beneath my feet cracked, fractures spiderwebbing across the ice as he took a heavy step forward. I matched his stare, my chest swelling with defiance as a low growl escaped my throat, reverberating through the mountains.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The world seemed to hold its breath, the wind dying to a whisper. His gaze was cold and unyielding, a predator's stare, ancient and knowing. And then his lip curled back, revealing teeth like spears, and his voice rumbled, a deep, commanding growl that shook the heavens.

"Bow."

The word hung in the air, heavy and sharp, echoing off the cliffs. I blinked, my eyes widening in surprise. Bow? He had never commanded me to bow before. Never in all the ages that we had clashed, fought, and circled each other like rival storms. Something had changed within him, something that made him bolder—more resolute.

My surprise quickly turned to fury, flames igniting in my chest as I bared my serrated teeth. Smoke curled from my nostrils, a warning of the fire that lay within. My wings unfurled, catching the light as the silver membranes rippled with power.

"A dragon does not bow," I hissed, my voice a low snarl that cut through the icy wind.

Godzilla's eyes narrowed, his glowing gaze hardening as his tail lashed behind him, sending a tidal wave crashing against the shore. He snorted, a puff of steam escaping his nostrils, and his voice was colder than the ice that surrounded us.

"Then you will die."

There was no warning. No hesitation. With a roar that shattered the air, Godzilla lunged forward, his massive body surging out of the water with a force that sent shockwaves rippling across the ocean. His footsteps were like thunderclaps, cracking the ice beneath us as he charged. The ground quaked, splintering under his weight, fissures racing outward as snow avalanched from the cliffs above.

I braced myself, muscles coiling like springs as his shadow fell over me. My wings flared wide, catching the howling wind, and my eyes blazed with defiance. I would not bow. Not to him, not to anyone. I was Titanus Syrantus, the Queen of the Skies, Mistress of Storms. And I would not fall without a fight.

With a roar of my own, I launched myself toward him, talons outstretched, fire blazing in my throat. The ancient mountains bore witness as titans clashed once more, the echoes of our battle shaking the world.