The pilot of the P-3C anti-submarine patrol aircraft was shocked by the scene before him. The massive splash on the sea surface allowed them to glimpse only fragments of what was happening—but anything capable of tearing apart a 3,300-ton Canglong-class submarine as if it were a toy could only be Godzilla.
"Turn on the Tactical Common Data Link (TCDL). Send the footage to the fleet behind us."
"We're not informing the Americans?"
"Baka! You think they're not monitoring our data link? Did you forget the TCDL was bought from the Americans by our esteemed Self-Defense Force?"
Lieutenant Tamura, sitting in the pilot's seat, vented his frustration at his subordinate. He pressed the navigation correction button and set a new course.
"Are the anti-sub torpedoes ready to fire?"
"Ready anytime—but we might hit the Ryūryū instead."
Sitting behind him, Sato was the sonar and weapons operator.
"Baka! You think anyone on that submarine is still alive?"
The advanced electro-optical system on the P-3C clearly displayed the condition of the Ryūryū. Its pressure hull—built to withstand the depths of hundreds of meters—had been severely deformed. The streamlined submarine had been twisted into a pretzel.
"Hai!"
"Activate radar altitude hold—prepare to fire!"
To deal with Godzilla, they had replaced all their torpedoes—from the lighter MK-46s to the far more powerful MK-50s. The MK-50 was faster, dove deeper, and had been originally designed to hunt down the Soviet Union's extremely fast double-hulled Alfa-class nuclear attack submarines. Equipped with a hollow-charge warhead, its armor-piercing ability far exceeded that of the MK-46 and MK-54.
But no one dared guarantee the MK-50 could pierce Godzilla's armored scales.
"Select high-speed passive guidance. Set the seeker activation after the minimum 300 yards, depth at 65 feet. Horizontal search pattern: right-hand circular."
Lieutenant Tamura, despite his stalled career, had abundant anti-sub experience. With Godzilla attacking the submarine in place, it was practically a stationary target—almost impossible to miss.
Soon, the first MK-50 dropped with its drag chute, then shed it. Its 160-horsepower closed-cycle turbine engine roared to life, driving the torpedo downward to its assigned depth. Leveling off, it began its right-hand search pattern.
The sound of Godzilla tearing apart the submarine was unmistakable in the water—the sharp screech of twisting metal was nearly deafening even through sonar.
A white trail sliced through the sea as the torpedo charged toward its target.
Launching torpedoes too close together would cause interference, so Tamura counted fifteen seconds before releasing the second. He fired every torpedo the aircraft carried as fast as possible.
"Boom!"
The first torpedo hit. A flash of blue light tore through the deep, and an enormous column of seawater surged upward.
Seconds later, the second torpedo struck.
A chain of thunderous explosions erupted over the water, sending waves towering like mountains.
"Did we kill Godzilla?" Sato asked excitedly.
"Not sure," Tamura replied, forcing a cold joke. "But Kato is definitely dead."
Only after a long while did the chaotic waves settle. The Ryūryū had been reduced to scattered debris floating in oil-slicked waters.
There was no sign of Godzilla. It seemed to have vanished completely into the sea.
"Drop an SSQ-62 DICASS active sonar buoy."
Tamura made the call—he intended to find Godzilla beneath the waves.
Soon, an active sonar buoy splashed down. The moment it touched water, it began emitting sharp "pang! pang!" pulses as it mapped the area.
But moments after the buoy was deployed, Sato's face twisted in terror.
"Climb! Climb now! It—it's right below us! It's coming up!"
Tamura felt as if his organs were being yanked out. He yanked the control column back, desperately trying to pull the aircraft up.
"Boom!"
The tranquil surface below exploded. Godzilla's massive body shot upward. It had just dived hundreds of meters deep, then accelerated from the seafloor like a torpedo.
Its enormous body burst out of the water and glided into the air.
With jaws wide open, it snapped up the fleeing P-3C in one bite. A few crunches—then it swallowed.
Dozens of nautical miles away, inside the command room of the destroyer DDG-17 Atago, several senior officers silently watched the video feed streaming through the data link. They had witnessed the entire sequence—from the patrol plane detecting Godzilla to its consumption. Even Tamura's sarcastic remarks were recorded clearly.
A heavy, suffocating silence filled the command cabin.
"Change course immediately… We cannot engage a monster like that."
The captain's order made everyone exhale in relief.
But moments later, the command phone rang. The captain answered—and after only a few seconds, his face turned ashen, as if he had just received news of his parents' death.
After hanging up with a forced smile, he cursed.
"Baka! It's that American dog, Nick Fury! He wants us to track the Godzilla that just appeared!"
The cabin erupted into chaos. Every officer roared with anger—this order was no different from sending them to their deaths.
Soon after, the phone rang again. When the captain picked up this time, he seemed to age ten years instantly.
"It was the Minister of Defense. He ordered us to obey the Americans—for now."
Silence fell once more.
And then, the Atago began accelerating toward the crash site of the patrol aircraft.
Meanwhile, the massive Titan—whose refit Tony Stark had rushed to complete—was already airborne, suspended by four engines, racing toward the target sea zone.
The Titan's enormous bulk whipped up a hurricane as it passed. Its steel cables shredded the air, producing a piercing shriek.
Nick Fury, instead of directing operations from the carrier, had chosen to sit in a Quinjet flying just above the Titan. Outside the window, the raging ocean mirrored his turbulent mood. Standing inside the cabin, he watched destroyers surge forward, cutting through the waves and leaving white trails behind them.
On the electronic map, icons representing patrol aircraft and bombers sped toward the target area like schools of fish converging on prey. Together with the destroyers, they formed a massive encirclement—trapping the newly appeared Godzilla at its center.
For the battle ahead, he had wagered everything—even using intelligence he'd once intercepted to pressure the Japanese into serving as expendable cannon fodder.
He couldn't afford to lose.And he would not lose.
-----------------------
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(End of Chapter)