11-10-2021, 02:39 AM
Location: in between Leviathans sepulcher and Highvalley Hollow <3
A wild Ghidorah appears!
A wild Ghidorah appears!
His life goes by in a flash. As if he’s watching himself in third person. There he is — a god. The events of his entire being speed past and all of a sudden he’s being met with an image. Fire, lava, himself, and a beast. The monster rears on hind legs, spreads golden scaled wings wide — it displays its power. With three devilish heads sprouting from its shoulders, a hellish roar booms past serrated, crocodilian teeth.
That beast is a true god. That monster is him.
Ghidorah — king of all beasts. Lord of all monsters. A god amongst men. That is him.
Then, as if he’s been sucked away into a black hole — swallowed up by the universe — his entire being lights up into excruciating pain. A flash of white before his eyes, more fire, more lightening, thunder rattles his brain. He cannot feel his grand body of scales, wings, and teeth. He cannot feel the spark of powerful electricity that runs viral through him! Where?! Where are his wings? His whip like tail? He cannot feel any of it.
Just like that, in a bolt of lightning. He’s shot to the ground. Thick, eerie clouds foreboding the rapture itself fills the sky as a bolt of golden lightning cracks against the valley below, instantly setting the brush and shrubbery aflame. Ghidorah is deposited in its absence. He’s screaming from unfathomable pain, a horse sound fit for only those who believe they’re dying and in that moment he realizes he has.
His weakened state is left hardly standing, fur since and scales replaced with soft, weak, fur. His armor — it’s gone! He was a GOD! This he knows has changed, especially as his muscles ache like they’ve never done before and his body feels unfamiliar and lit up in that white hot uncomfortable feeling known as pain. His body is not his own and when he picks his head from its hanging position in between his legs to look at himself he finds the source of his discomfort. He’s been stricken by electricity. The most ironic of injuries for him — his godliness stolen from him. His skin is seared, burned, in jagged edges from his shoulder, across fragile ribs, and over a strong back.
He has become mortal. Has he ever actually been a god? Or was that a facade? His mind plays tricks on him so that he does not even know now.
He stumbles forward when fire licks his ankles. Pain. A seemingly new sensation. He clears his throat tilts his head up after he moves away, uncaring if he is consumed by the flames flickering beside him and drenched in the rain that falls down to put it out.
He screams. This one in rage and anguish, mourning for his old self.
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