Disclaimer: Down own either G's. "Together"
By Corvus no Genmu the Prince of Slumberland
Shiro Miyasaka: We scientists produced this monster... And ever since, we tried to destroy him.
Yuki Ichinose: But then, why... Why does he keep protecting us?
-Godzilla Millennium
It was black, that day when they met, the skies above covered in black soot and ash with several lakes of blood covering the land. It was several months after the hole of darkened space tried to take him from his territory but he had fought, he had won.
But still he was wounded.
He had been tired then, having just fought and defeated a foe who sapped him of his strength, of his fire, and was forced to find sustenance in the lands of glass and metal where he was once more attacked by the small creatures that now covered this world. His father, he recalled, hated them with a passion that bordered on madness and yet, at times, he found himself allying with them, if only to prevent harm to befall him, his son. The son was neutral to the man-bugs, if they didn't harm him, he wouldn't harm them. It was as simple as that. Though he did find annoyance in encountering the same particular insect now and again, he had not struck against them save for the one after his victory over the Invader.
The insect challenged his right to rule and he, rightfully asserted his place and squashed the insect for what it was.
He started to hate them then, if only a little.
And now, now they had dared to force take him away from his lands! To where the Queen's kind covered the world and others like him were nothing but food for their near unsatiable appetites.
Others like him… Though her's was another language altogether, he understood through her movements, her strikes powered by arrogance and pride, that she was nothing if not familiar with others like himself. He found himself wondering then, just what others there were. Oh yes, he knew of the Peaceful One, their encounters strenuous at best and vicious at worst, but aside from her…
He had memories, of his nestmate, the Soaring One, and of his father, King of All, but only those three, two dead and one dying were all he had as allies, packmates. His exhaustion seemed greater then. He had spent much of his fire to break the black orb's hold upon him and had been forced to retreat to the bloodflows of the planet to escape another attempt. The world had given him strength enough to emerge like a hatchling into the coldness of the oceans but it was many moons after the encounter.
And still he was wounded.
But then… so was the Guardian.
He had been swimming towards an island he frequented, a lush paradise filled with life and the fires that he so desperately needed to consume, when he encountered he whom would be known as Guardian. He was surprised by the appearance of the Guardian, having seen others similar to his shape but vastly smaller in size. He didn't let surprise rule and took a stance of dominance that was mirrored by his shelled adversary. Even the exhaustion was mirrored and had it not been for the stinging taste atop his tongue, he would have overlooked the bleeding wounds that the Guardian suffered from.
The Guardian's torso, though covered in a thick layer of shell, had a gaping hole the went from front to back, where muscle and bone could easily be seen amongst the neon-colored blood. His left claw was clenched tightly, ready to rip and tear while the right was nowhere to be seen, for everything below the elbow was gone and burned. They many straight-laced cuts and gashes along scale and shell alike and one eye was firmly closed against a long slash down its height.
But still, he floated before him, his posture nearly screaming dominance, a will to keep going no matter the cost. Wounded as the Guardian was he wouldn't last long but then, was he not so drained of his strength and fire? If they were to battle now, tooth and claw, would they Fall or would one emrge as Champion?
It didn't matter, they were who they were, Guardian and King, both respectable titles to be sure but neither could exist with the other present for both fell together atop the systematic pyramid of the status quo. Both began to swim slowly in a loose circle around the other, roars of defiance and challenge echoing in the darkness of the deep ocean. Then, without warning, the Guardian's legs disappeared in a burst of energized smoke and he was launched forward straight towards him. They grappled against the each other tightly, periodically rising and dropping from the surface of the ocean when, suddenly, the King found himself fighting against…
Nothing.
The Guardian was dead.
He swam back in surprise, his grip on the Guardian's throat lax before his eyes narrowed in anger. If there was but one thing, one singular thing that he would have inherited from his father it would most surely have been his pride. Though his was willing to make some sacrifices for victory, there was one thing he would not stand for and that would be a battle won through a handicap on both fighters' parts. He glared towards the path yet to come and to his fallen opponent.
He would have a fair victory even if the cost was a honorless death.
Taking an unnecessary breath, he gathered the energies of his flame to his throat before letting it flow gently through the water and down the Guardian's throat. Blackness crowded the edges of his sight but he heard the distinct sound of a heart beginning to beat even as his own slowly began to wane.
Oblivion was as abrupt as it was gentle in its embrace.
Birds of feathured skin, they who once roamed the earth as scale-covered giants cried and shrieked irritation into his ears. Snorting and blowing away large clouds of sand, orange eyes of a primordial age yet containing a more sentience slowly cracked open before widening sharply. His body so used to the motions of drawing in the necessary energies had drawn in slow trickles of what he needed to survive but with the power of the conscious mind, he drank in the energies surrounding him like a man deprived of water for day's on end. His spines flashed and flickered with renewed strength as he rose to his feet and roared to the morning sun before memory brought to his recollection of his last battle.
He looked around him then, confusion bringing a frown to his fanged snout. He hadn't died, though he had expected otherwise and though he might have drifted here, to the very island he had been heading towards, he doubted that very much. Really, he had a better chance finding a way to produce fire through his eyes than drift here to his favorite roost. There was another possibility but that was too unlikely to really be considered.
A bellow from the forests drew his attention towards an unbelievable truth.
The Guardian slowly walked towards him, head still held head in dominance but clawed hands down and fangs sheltered in his maw. To the King's surprise, he found that his opponent wounds from both their battle and whatever fight he had, had before were healed thought scars remained to mark their history. Even the Guardian's right arm had been healed up to the very claw with nothing more or less than a scar that encircled the elbow.
Still, the scars that covered his body were far different than the scars that could not be seen. The King's power of healing left no scars to be seen but somehow, instinct or something else entirely, he knew that the Guardian saw the unseen wounds that still bled as he saw the same in the Guardian.
In the King, he, the Guardian, saw wounds of separation, of despair in the knowledge that though together, the two were merely a small part of a strange and dangerous race, he was alone for their were no others of hid kind, distinct or ancient. His father had passed on to the Primordial and had given to him his Inner Flame, his lands, and a legacy that threatened to overwhelm him at times but he fought on and continued to dominate any who would challenge this legacy. He saw a creature born of man's arrogance and ignorance, a creature born of nature's fury with a power like that of an ocean's waves during a thunderous storm.
In the Guardian, he, the King, saw wounds of loneliness, of division between himself and those in which he was created to protect. In this age where enemy and friend are divided by a blurred line, he has been forced to kill the aged ones if only to protect the hatchlings, the young and the innocent. He was weak once, having to lean his strength against another, smaller though no less weaker source of strength, but now he could stand against any who threatened the Lifestreams, even if it meant destroying himself in the process. He saw a creature born of man's forgotten ways, a creature born for a single purpose but has already grown beyond whatever limits were set once before.
Together though, they saw something of mutuality. Both had seen more than their fair share of battle and heartbreak, and were all too aware of the poignant truth that they were alone though they were not the first of their kind nor would they in fact, be the last. They saw determination and a sense of valor that would not allow either of them to bend to any will but their own.
So what then, would they do now?
Though he had been absent these seasons past, these lands belonged to him, the King of All, but lands mattered nothing to the Guardian of All so long as whatever Intruder be it Invader or Usurper did not threaten the Lifestreams and those born from it. They had fought though both were weak with fatigue and wounds that had not yet healed and though the Guardian had fallen to exhaustion, the King had fallen as well though to some strange variation of honor.
They were physically healed now.
They were filled with renewed strength now.
So, what does it come down to?
Honor?
Instinct?
They stepped forward, matching their steps in strange synchronization, until they stood a tail's length apart and allowed their eyes to meet. Neon green stood against burning orange. Claws tensed and tails swung smoothly against the ground, brushing trees like overgrown weeds. The winds seemed to have paused in their endless travels as though they knew of the importance of what was to come. The waves drew back as though fearful of the onslaught of battle, taking with them what few sand buried denizens that had not yet fleed for safety.
A tail of serpentine length rose up and slammed the ground hard, causing a mountain's sroots to rattle beanth the ground. A tail of smaller length reciprocated the movement, earning its own tremble from the shaken grounds. Teeth bared themselves and jaws capable of shattering the hardest of metalized stones snapped at the air in strange, ancient ways of Time Before.
The air around the two grew hot as energy equal to that of the sun burned its way up to their throats and launched itself upwards towards the sky, one a ball of sun's fire the other a beam of sun's light and, together, they ripped through the sky.
Snorting a puff of black smoke, the King turned and walked away as the Guardian did the same. They walked until the claws of their feet met the gentle caress of the ocean's waves. They turned slowly, to look back at the one who was their enemy and yet not all the same. They had challenged and that challenge was a disgrace to their honor but it was enough to cool tempers enough for the two of them to realize just what it was that they had found in the other.
An equal.
Together, they roared a symphony that announced to all a new bond, a friendship made of wounds and scars, had been formed and that the world should be prepared for though the two would go their separate ways and fight their separate fights, there will come a time when the fight is too strong, too impossible to overcome alone and so, together, they will stand.
Separate, they are King and Guardian.
Separate, they are Godzilla and Gamera.
Together, they are Honor and Nobility.
Together, they are Strength and Loyalty.
And they will fight.
Together.