For the next month, Professor Sota was absorbed in his research. The flying creature he encountered was proof that he probably didn’t need a live sample or other monster components to create wings.
Unfortunately, Professor Sota had already poured everything into Asoka, and Asoka’s body had started to reject any further outside modification. The only way Asoka could continue to grow was by consuming the nutrients and DNA of other monsters he devoured then evolve slowly.
"I have to admit, they’re truly brilliant at creating monsters. Brilliant enough to give me a headache," said Professor Sota with a sigh.
But the challenge didn’t discourage him. On the contrary, it fueled his determination. If he could figure out a way to evolve Asoka without relying on outside sources, he could potentially turn Asoka into the ultimate monster, eliminating the need to send him out and risk him being killed.
While Professor Sota was engrossed in his research, Asoka, who was supposed to be in a deep sleep, found himself strangely awake.
To be precise, he was conscious only within his mind, unable to move or sense anything around him.
"Why am I here? What happened?" Asoka wondered, bewildered.
He couldn’t hear, feel, smell, see, or taste anything. All he knew was that he was floating in complete darkness.
"Why..."
As Asoka’s mind drifted into the silent void, fleeting words and emotions began to surface. They came as sensations—subtle tugs at his heart, vague feelings stirring in the corners of his mind.
These emotions, however, weren’t strong enough to trigger memories or any sense of familiarity. Instead, they left him unsettled, as if they belonged entirely to someone else.
The strange feelings and images continued to flood his mind for several more minutes, until a drowsiness began to take over. Trying to ignore the alien memories pressing in on him, Asoka gradually sank into a deeper sleep.
Just before his consciousness fully submerged, he heard a voice calling out from within him.
"Help me, John!"
*****
A single monster lay on an elevated platform in a hidden pocket dimension, somewhere deep in the Siberian Plateau. Surrounding it were humans dressed in tribal attire, bowing their heads in reverence as if worshiping a god.
This creature was a striking fusion of a wolf and a snake. The wolf's form dominated most of its body, but its front legs was clad in dark green scales and its face was half-reptilian. Its tail was split into seven twisting serpents, each one scanning the surroundings with unwavering vigilance.
The wolf-snake’s eyes were wide open, fixed on the distance where several other monsters were ascending their own platforms. There were four other beasts in total, each with a line of human worshippers trailing behind them like a loyal procession.
The first was a blue, female humanoid. Her entire body, from her long, tied hair to her toes, was a shade of deep blue, except for her eyes, which gleamed a vibrant ruby red.
The second creature floated in midair, shaped like a cross. Its body seemed composed of layers of translucent skin, billowing softly, emanating an eerie aura of mystery and dread.
The third monster resembled a male merfolk. Holding a trident in his right hand, he had a face reminiscent of a whale and dolphin combined together, gazing at the other creatures with a fierce, penetrating glare.
The final creature was an enormous cassowary-like bird. Majestic with flaming wings and a tail crackling with lightning, it stood proud despite being the smallest of the group.
The wolf-snake observed the other monsters and nodded approvingly. These were his allies, his partners in the mission to conquer the Earth and rule over the hidden spaces scattered within it.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Then, a human standing below the wolf-snake's platform rose to his feet. He took a step forward, positioning himself in front of the wolf snake, and began to speak.
"On behalf of our god, the Majestic Rumit, we welcome the presence of the other gods and their followers in our domain," he announced in a loud, commanding voice. His words were met with nods of acknowledgment from the other monsters and their worshipers.
“The Majestic Rumit wishes to discuss his plans to reclaim the world from humanity. He invites fresh ideas from the other gods, so he won’t be the only one contributing."
The followers of the other beasts remained silent. This was a conversation among gods; they were simply followers, there to revere and obey.
Suddenly, one of the followers of the cross-shaped creature fell into a trance and began to speak in a voice that was not their own.
"I, Fiapor, propose we flood the human world with an army of monsters, overwhelming them with sheer numbers until they submit."
With that, the follower collapsed, lying motionless on the platform, half-dead and ignored, while the others looked on with a mix of envy and awe.
Moments later, a follower of the cassowary monster, Merak, also entered a trance, speaking in a voice that was both commanding and distant.
“Merak suggests a more strategic approach: seek out the two monsters who defend humanity, and recruit allies from other hidden spaces.”
After she finished, Merak’s follower also fell to the platform, drained and motionless. Merak cast a brief, sorrowful glance at her before turning his attention back to the gathering.
Rumit then looked at the two remaining monsters, waiting for their contributions. But after several minutes of silence, neither seemed inclined to speak. In fact, they appeared bored and weary, as if the meeting itself was a drain on their strength.
With no further suggestions, Rumit’s follower began to speak once more.
"The Majestic Rumit has decided to incorporate both Fiapor and Merak’s ideas. He will send waves of monsters to attack human cities, while dispatching a select few to hunt down humanity's defenders."
At that, the two silent monsters took immediate action. The blue humanoid clapped her hands, conjuring a bubble of blue ice that encased her and her followers. The bubble burst, and they vanished.
The merfolk followed suit, striking his trident on the platform three times, summoning a whirlpool that swirled around him and his followers before they too disappeared.
Merak and Fiapor then left in a similar fashion, using their own powers of fire and wind to vanish from the dimension, leaving only Rumit and his devoted followers on the platform.
Rumit’s followers bowed deeply, then slowly crawled back down the platform, leaving him alone to bask in the quiet.
Though he appeared to be resting, Rumit was actually coordinating his forces with his mind, arranging the precise locations and numbers of monsters for each wave of attack. After half an hour of meticulous planning, he finally relaxed, a satisfied smile forming on his face.
"Soon," he thought, "there will be no more humans, and monsters will once again roam the Earth as they please."
******
Beijing, China
In Beijing, the leaders of the United Government gathered for a high-stakes meeting, their attention fixed on the monster attacks that now threatened global stability and Russia's recent, shocking takeover. These unprecedented times called for swift, strategic decisions as the leaders confronted threats that were unimaginable just years before.
Since Russia’s takeover, survivors who had escaped the initial attack fled south, seeking refuge in neighboring countries. Russian citizens found it relatively easy to gain safety and support as many were viewed as helpless victims of a terrible fate. Aid poured in as nearby countries offered shelter and provisions, recognizing the urgency of their plight. However, Russian government officials were met with a different reception altogether. Their own citizens, disillusioned and angry at their inability to protect the country, turned on them, igniting widespread resentment.
Publicly, the Russian people’s dissatisfaction was palpable, as the government’s failure to protect the nation fueled outrage. As Russian leadership faltered in the eyes of their people, they were forced into hiding, some even pursued by their own countrymen in bitter retribution. While the global leaders acknowledged privately that the Russian government had faced an overwhelming and unforeseen threat, they deflected public criticism onto Russia's apparent lack of readiness. The creatures that had ravaged Russia were unlike any seen before—unbelievably cunning, lethal, and far beyond human capability. They arrived in vast, unending waves with strength and resilience that defied logic.
In the face of this new era of danger, the world’s leaders convened under the United Government banner, intent on discussing how to respond and reclaim humanity's hold on the globe.
“How is the monster breeding project progressing?” inquired the Ukrainian leader. “Can we depend on these newly controlled creatures?”
“The scientists report that the project has been a success thus far,” explained the Chinese leader. “We deployed one creature to Mount Fuji. Although it couldn’t prevent significant destruction to the mountain itself, it did successfully eliminate the monster that emerged.”
The room was still as the other leaders digested this news.
“If the test creature succeeded, why not create more?” another leader pressed. “We could form an army of these monsters to reclaim Russia.”
“That’s precisely the issue,” the British leader responded, sliding a thick stack of documents across the table. “We’re not yet able to mass-produce them on that scale. Each of you has a representative involved in the project; you can verify these findings.”
The leaders picked up the reports, the air thick with silence as pages turned. At last, one leader spoke up.
“It seems our creature has potential but needs time to mature and grow strong enough to handle multiple enemies. The best way to accelerate that growth is through battling other monsters. So why not send it straight to Russia? Let it confront and feed on these threats until it becomes our ultimate weapon.”
“Not so fast,” another leader interrupted. “While combat can expedite its growth, we still need to pace the pilot’s rest cycles. Pushing too hard could cost us the creature and set back all our efforts.”
At this moment, the Greek leader rose, walking to the front with a contemplative expression. After a deep breath, he addressed the assembly with a new suggestion.
“Speaking of efforts and resources, I have a proposal that could offer us lasting benefits,” he began.
Scanning the room, he gauged their reactions, sensing an opening to share his vision.
“My idea is called Project Alexander, inspired by a character from a popular video game. Picture this: we construct a fortified castle that serves as both a stronghold for our government and a bastion of defense. Not only would it be a symbol of resilience, but it would offer genuine, powerful protection.”
The leaders were momentarily stunned, their expressions ranging from curious to skeptical. A few looked insulted, as if the notion of a “castle” was outdated or impractical. But before any objections could be voiced, he distributed a detailed document.
“Look at this,” he urged them, inviting a closer examination. “In Greece, we have a young engineer—a genius, arguably on par with Laurel, the scientist spearheading our monster project. He has designed plans for what I call a ‘weaponized castle’—a structure capable of defending a city with lethal firepower, sufficient to repel even the deadliest monster attacks.”
The design on the page depicted something akin to a colossal robot, constructed from castle towers and fortified walls, bristling with cannons, rockets, and all manner of weaponry. The concept was as ambitious as it was surreal.
“In honor of our heritage, each castle would be named after a unique gemstone from our respective nations,” he concluded. “In Greece, ours will be known as Alexander, Castle of the Guardian—a symbol of our strength and solidarity.”