Chapter 2: The Titan Awakens
The Imperium of Man.
To describe it in full would take volumes. But to put it simply—by the 30th Millennium, under the leadership of the Emperor of Mankind, humanity expanded across the stars. Twenty Primarchs were created as the Emperor's genetic sons—demigod generals, each tasked with leading a legion of genetically enhanced warriors known as the Space Marines. One of the Primarchs had a twin, but the total remained twenty. These legions became the backbone of the Great Crusade.
The process of creating a Space Marine was brutal, involving gene-seed implantation, surgical enhancements, and rigorous indoctrination. What emerged were transhuman warriors—faster, stronger, and more durable than any normal human.
Time passed. Empires fell. Civil wars were fought. But even after ten thousand years of turmoil, some legions still endure.
One of these was the Ultramarines, the XIII Legion. Under the banner of their Primarch Roboute Guilliman, they became paragons of discipline, honor, and tactical perfection. And now, an expeditionary force from the Ultramarines was on this world—this nameless planet that would soon be known as Planet Godzilla.
Towering over two meters tall, each Space Marine bore two hearts, three lungs, fused ribs, and reinforced bones. Clad in power armor, wielding chainswords and bolters, they descended to the surface to confront a new xenos threat.
They had no idea what awaited them.
"By the Emperor..."
The words escaped a Space Marine as his helmet lenses focused on a colossal silhouette emerging through the haze.
The figure was massive—easily dwarfing even a Warlord Titan in sheer bulk. The ground trembled beneath its steps, and its eyes burned with primordial intelligence.
"Is that... a new Tyranid bioform? That size... it must be one of their war beasts."
His voice carried resolve, but his finger hesitated over the trigger. The sight was unlike anything he'd ever seen.
Still, loyalty overrode fear. The Astartes raised his grenade launcher, locked onto the creature's chest, and fired.
"For the Emperor!"
The explosive round streaked through the air and burst against Godzilla's shoulder, creating only a faint flash. Godzilla blinked and slowly turned his head toward the impact point. Then, his gaze dropped down to the Space Marine below.
Blue armor. No daemonic corruption. Loyalist. Ultramarines.
Godzilla's eyes narrowed slightly. He recognized the colors, even if he'd never seen one up close before.
"Smurfs," he muttered. That was the nickname Warhammer fans often used for the Ultramarines, owing to their bright blue armor.
[He's hostile, by the way.]
Godzilla didn't respond. Instead, he lazily pivoted and swung his tail. The motion was smooth, casual—almost bored.
But the impact was anything but.
The tail slammed into the Marine with devastating force. Though his armor weighed nearly two tons, he was flung like a ragdoll, bouncing and rolling across the dirt in a blur of blue ceramite and blood.
"Cough... cough!"
The Space Marine hit the ground hard but lived, thanks to the life-support systems woven into his armor. Internal stims and clotting agents surged into his bloodstream. He groaned, clutching his side as he forced himself to stand.
And then he heard it.
The chittering. The hissing. The tremble of a thousand claws scraping against rock.
He turned and saw them—dozens of Tyranid organisms closing in. Gaunts with scything talons, their eyes blank and soulless.
"Damnable xenos..." the Marine growled.
Revving his chainsword, he braced himself. Even injured, he would die on his feet.
"For the Emperor!"
He charged the swarm.
Chainsword buzzing, he cleaved through the first wave of Hormagaunts. Limbs flew. Black ichor sprayed across his armor.
But his strength was fading. He could barely stand.
A larger shadow loomed above him—towering, armored, and cruel. A Tyranid Warrior. Command-class. Chitinous blades gleaming.
It struck.
The claws pierced through the Marine's torso. Despite the agony, he roared and swung one last time. His chainsword bit into the Warrior's limbs, severing both with a final, desperate scream.
"Return me to the Golden Throne... For the Emperor!"
Both fell.
To the Imperium, a noble sacrifice.
To the swarm, the loss of one expendable organism.
No one mourned. Death was routine.
Another Warrior emerged from the horde, stepping over the corpses without hesitation. Its insectile eyes locked onto the distant colossus.
Godzilla.
The creature was too large, too alien. Not something its unit could handle. It turned and emitted a pulse—bio-telepathy rippling upward through the hive structure. The message passed from Warrior to Tyrant, from Tyrant to Broodlord, and finally to the Norn-Queen orbiting in the heart of the Hive Fleet.
A judgment was made.
A command was issued.
The bio-ships in orbit shifted.
One mothership, a living, writhing nightmare of bone and sinew, released its payload—an oversized drop-spore, filled with biomass and designed for a single occupant.
A new enemy was coming.
Godzilla's eyes turned upward.
Far above, a blazing light streaked through the atmosphere. Flames licked the hull of the descending pod, and the air crackled as it plummeted.
The hive had answered.
[The Tyranids have deployed a Titan-class bioform.]
"Now it gets interesting," Godzilla murmured.
Across the plains, the smaller Tyranid creatures swarmed toward him. Hormagaunts. Termagants. Warriors. They covered the ground like an ocean of teeth and chitin.
On a distant rise stood a Hive Tyrant and its bodyguard. Towering over its kin, the Tyrant observed the battlefield carefully. Though dwarfed by Godzilla, it was far from stupid. The swarm had fought larger creatures before. They had strategies for this.
First the grunts would swarm and distract. Then, the Titan would strike.
Godzilla stood tall, muscles tensing. The ground around him cracked beneath his feet.
"So... where is it?" he muttered. "Where's your big boy?"
As if in answer, the drop-spore slammed into the surface, shaking the land like an earthquake. A geyser of dirt and bone fragments erupted into the sky.
Then, silence.
A moment later, a deep roar split the air.
The pod split open. Chitin cracked. Mandibles flexed.
Out stepped the Tyranid Titan.
It was a monster.
Fifty meters tall, its body was a grotesque fusion of organic armor and brute muscle. Dozens of limbs twitched in anticipation. Acid drooled from its fanged maw. Its claws were the size of tanks.
It screamed.
The sound reverberated across the battlefield. The swarm answered with a unified roar of their own.
Godzilla's eyes narrowed.
"So, the Great Devourer does have a heavy hitter. Alright. Let's see what you've got."
He stepped forward. His massive tail swayed behind him. Muscles rippled beneath thick hide. His own roar bellowed out, louder, deeper, and older than anything the swarm had ever heard.
It echoed for miles.
A challenge.
[Would you like to activate the Godzilla Full-Form Experience Card? One hour of full access to your most powerful forms.]
Godzilla growled low.
"Not yet. Let's see if this bug is really worth using it on. Besides... there's still a fleet up there. I might need that card later."
And with that, Godzilla marched to war.