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It was serious this time.
Everyone in the war room could feel it—tension hung like a storm cloud about to burst.
The brass, intelligence analysts, and black-ops officers of America—the world's biggest arms superpower—had reached a rare consensus.
The threat of mutated dinosaurs was no longer something they could contain.
It had to be confronted, and with overwhelming force.
The President had signed Directive Polaris. It wasn't a drill, not another containment protocol.
It was war.
The mutated dinosaurs—hyper-engineered relics of the ancient world, altered further by exposure to strange energies—had begun asserting dominance far beyond the jungles of Isla Nublar.
A coalition of beasts had emerged, no longer mere animals, but a coordinated force under one enigmatic leader.
Miraluz.
Whispers of his name passed like ghost stories.
An artificial apex predator evolved past any natural order.
Intelligent, commanding, and utterly ruthless.
He was leading the dinosaurs
But the United States had its monsters. And its secrets.
"San Francisco. Chicago. Skull Island. How many more times will we let this happen?" barked General Morrison, slamming a steel pointer on the conference table.
The room flinched.
"We've been reactionary too long. The ape riot of 2011, the Death Swarm incident in '12, and now this dinosaurs… It's global now. They're not waiting anymore, and neither can we."
He tapped a map filled with red markers—sightings, attacks, missing military units.
The threat was spreading like wildfire.
Around the table, high-ranking officials murmured in agreement.
Only one voice broke through the grim chorus.
"But if we authorize a nuclear strike… are we prepared for the consequences?"
It was Admiral Richards of the Pacific Fleet.
His tone was cautious, nearly fearful.
The room fell silent.
Everyone knew what he meant. Nuclear weapons were the ultimate deterrent, but they came with a risk no one dared speak aloud—a risk not just of radiation or international fallout, but of awakening Him.
Something divine. Something monstrous.
"Him," Richards added grimly.
Godzilla.
The name hung in the room like a thunderclap.
Years ago, during World War II, the detonation of atomic bombs on Japan had unknowingly stirred two ancient titans from their slumber: Godzilla and the Death Swarm.
The raw energy of nuclear fire had served as both a feast and a beacon.
Drawn by radiation, both monsters clashed in an earth-shaking battle over the remnants of the bombed cities.
For years after, Godzilla and the Death Swarm waged a brutal, almost ritualistic hunt across continents—one predator chasing another.
Cities were leveled in their wake. Humanity was caught in the crossfire.
To stop them, a desperate plan was enacted.
In 1954, the military staged a hydrogen bomb test—Castle Bravo—at Bikini Atoll.
It was no test. It was bait.
The gamble paid off—partially.
The Death Swarm was obliterated in the blast.
But Godzilla?
He vanished.
Later, Monarch—then operating as a secretive multinational coalition—discovered that Godzilla had survived.
The hydrogen bomb, instead of killing him, had merely replenished him.
After feeding on the fallout, he had retreated into the ocean's depths to slumber once more.
Since then, Godzilla has become a myth.
A phantom of classified files, blurry sonar images, and deep-sea myths whispered by sailors.
Monarch searched endlessly, never confirming his death or whereabouts.
Most assumed he was gone for good.
But if another nuclear weapon were detonated—if a global-scale war against the Jurassic beasts began—there was a real possibility that Godzilla would awaken again.
And no one could predict which side he'd be on.
"What if he doesn't see us as allies?" Admiral Richards pressed.
"What if this time, he sees us as the problem?"
The room was still.
Godzilla was not just another kaiju.
He was force of nature.
A force of balance. And if he deemed humanity the greatest threat to that balance, then no weapon—nuclear or otherwise—could stop him.
"I understand your fear," came a calm, resolute voice.
Everyone turned.
Dr. Ichiro Serizawa stepped forward.
As a leading scientist from Monarch, and the son of one of its founders, he had devoted his life to understanding Godzilla—not just as a creature, but as an essential part of the planet's ecosystem.
"I believe Godzilla will awaken only if he must," Serizawa said.
"And if he does, it will not be out of hatred, but necessity. He is not a monster. He is a guardian. The Earth's immune system." (T/N: Why is this guy thinking humans are earths friends)
Morrison scoffed. "You want to gamble our future on a mythological lizard's morality?"
"I want to remind you that when we tried to kill him last time, we failed," Serizawa shot back.
"But when we left him alone, he left us in peace."
"Until now!" a general snapped.
"These mutated dinosaurs—this Miraluz—they're not random. They're organized. They're strategic. That's new. And if Godzilla doesn't step up, then we have to."
"And if he does?" Serizawa asked softly.
No one answered.
The truth is that nobody knew what side Godzilla would choose.
The ancient titan had continuously operated on his terms, answering only to the rhythms.
If he perceived the war between humans and dinosaurs as part of a larger ecological balance, he could help.
But if he saw humanity's nuclear retaliation as a threat to the planet…
It could be the end of civilization.
Despite Dr. Serizawa's impassioned words, his plea for coexistence was brushed aside.
The room had already made up its mind.
In the eyes of the global powers, especially America, the days of believing in peaceful cohabitation with monsters were long gone.
No one had forgotten the scorched remains of San Francisco or the skeletal ruins of downtown Chicago.
The "ape riot" and the Death Swarm attack had shattered the illusion of control. Humanity had tried understanding, tried containing.
But the monsters had only grown stronger and more organized—and now, with Miraluz uniting them, they were more dangerous than ever.
"Let's table the Godzilla issue for now," said Secretary Langston, the Minister of Defense.
His tone left no room for debate.
"Your Monarch organization will continue monitoring him. If he awakens, we'll reassess. But right now, our concern is Miraluz—and the mutant dinosaurs of Isla Nublar."
He rose, eyes sweeping over the gathered generals and commanders.
"This is no longer just another crisis," he declared.
"This is not a rogue Titan incident or a biohazard event. This is war—a war between humans and monsters."
His voice thundered through the chamber, each word like a drumbeat before battle.
"Only through total annihilation of Miraluz and his monster army can we ensure the safety of our citizens, our borders, and the future of mankind."
A moment of silence followed, heavy and foreboding.
Then—