Chapter 34: The Destruction
Lucien didn’t get the time to properly react—neither did any of the monsters. Immediately, the trees began rolling forward under the crushing force of the two titans; their demise was already sealed.
They rolled, and the world came apart.
The ancient Palebranch trees—some as wide as houses, their pale bark gleaming like bone in the filtered light—began to topple in a cascading wave of destruction. The first massive trunk slammed into the forest floor with a thunderous crack that split the air, sending tremors through the earth that Lucien felt in his bones. Then another crashed down, and another, each impact creating a deafening symphony of splintering wood and groaning timber.
The canopy above disintegrated in a rain of pale branches and silvery leaves. What had been a cathedral of towering trees became a chaotic maze of falling giants, their crown-heavy tops crashing down like the collapse of a great city. The very air seemed to compress and expand with each impact, creating gusts of wind that carried the acrid scent of crushed bark and the strange, metallic taste of disturbed magic.
Lucien had no time to watch. He lunged into speed motion but happened to catch a glimpse behind him as the Elite Wights—creatures that had seemed so menacing moments before—were reduced to nothing more than kindling.
One was caught beneath a falling trunk thicker than Lucien was tall, its wooden body crushed with a wet, splintering sound that was somehow worse than any scream. Another tried to flee, its elongated limbs scrambling for purchase, but was swept away by the rolling mass of the two behemoths as they carved their path of absolute devastation.
The ground itself seemed to liquefy under the tremendous weight. Roots that had anchored themselves deep into the earth for centuries were torn free, creating sinkholes and sudden rises in the terrain. The forest floor, once carpeted with a thick layer of pale leaves and moss, was being churned into a muddy, debris-filled wasteland.
Through it all, the two titans continued their apocalyptic dance. Godzilla’s roar mixed with the elder monster’s glass-shattering shriek, but both sounds were nearly drowned out by the ongoing collapse of an entire ecosystem. The devastation spread outward like ripples in a pond, each fallen tree triggering the fall of others in an ever-widening circle of destruction.
Even though Lucien was running as fast as he could, surpassing many Wights, the land was crumbling faster than his legs could keep up. Without realizing it, he entered a slope. Before he could catch himself, he rolled like a wheel and crashed into a pocket of relative safety—a small clearing that had been spared by sheer chance as the destruction flowed around it like water around a stone.
From here, he could see the true scope of what was happening: an ancient forest, possibly centuries old, being reduced to splinters and sawdust in mere moments.
And through the settling dust and debris, he caught glimpses of the elder monster—wounded, struggling, but still alive as Godzilla pressed its advantage through the wreckage they had created together.