#gigan did an oopsie

[cant-blink]

Half-Life, Ch. 5

Summary: The consequences of Gigan’s actions makes itself clear.

-

He can’t move.

He can’t see.

He can’t hear.

But he was aware.

He was aware of the terrible pain that plagued his body, so intense that he couldn’t even scream. He was aware of every second the half-life used him for, every second his flesh was gouged and violated. He was aware, that every time he attempted to move even the slightest bit, it brought painful seizures through his entire body, especially of his legs and tails. His feet would kick the air uselessly, his tails have already run dry of their poison gasses but still kept contracting nonetheless.

He was aware, that for the very first time, he was at the complete mercy of everything around him.

His fifth brain has been severely damaged, shredded by the half-life’s tail and made worse through the mating. The same brain that allowed him to control his massive body was now destroyed, and it left that body feeling alien to the dragon.

Never before has he sustained such a terrible injury. It’s not often he received any injury at all, as his hardened scales usually proved enough to protect him from damage. Even in those few fights that proved more serious, it never got this bad. The extent of his injuries were usually torn wing membranes, maybe even a broken neck. Wounds that were always relatively easy to mend. Until that half-life showed up and now...

He felt so weak, and it was hard to stay conscious, much less stay focused on what he needed to do. He still had stored energy left in his stomach; he just needed to tighten the right muscles to free it into his system. But in the process of doing this, he sent another agonizing spasm through his whole body. He couldn’t even cry out, enduring this as it at least released his emergency reserves.

Some of that energy escaped his body, forming a faint barrier around him, red flame-like wisps coming from it. Keeping him safe from the outside world. He honestly didn’t want that energy to be wasted on a barrier, but he had no say in how his reserves were used. His body spent it on a pre-determined list of priorities that his old creators deemed fit.

The first of those priorities was to stopping the flow of blood from escaping his wounds. Blood being drawn is not something he was used to, but here he was losing too much too quickly. His body was in a state of panic, urgent in trying to get itself back together. But his energy stores were limited in how much he can carry; he didn’t even know if he would have enough to fully stop his bleeding, much less repair his damaged brain.

But he had to repair it; he can’t move without it and he needed to get out of here. Fly beyond the cloud of space dust and its atmosphere, to unfiltered cosmic rays. If he can’t, he won’t be able to complete the healing process. And... and...

It struck him.

He could very well die from this.

Bleeding. Humiliated. Disgraced. Defiled. Pathetic. At the claws of a half-life. Surrounded by lesser lifeforms. He’s never imagined what his death would be like, as it seemed like an impossibility. But this? This was not how he wanted his Death to be. He will NOT give this half-life the satisfaction of knowing he did this to him!

Without thinking, he attempted to get up, but his muscles tightened painfully before his legs kicked once more. More horrific pain swamped his nerves from his injuries. Why was his body not paying his damaged brain any attention?! He deemed that more important than his blood!

In his panicked mind-set, he failed to realize that he needed that blood to transfer the healing energy throughout his body. He was already losing too much, and the more he bled, the slower the process. But the thought never occurs to him as he kept struggling against his own body.

It was the burden of agony and exhaustion that finally stopped his attempts to move, his body once more settling into twitches. That violent fit has just undone what healing has occurred, dislodging clots and causing blood to flow freely once more.

He can feel it, trickling down his scales.

He can’t...

He just can’t...

He laid there for another moment, twitching. Enduring. Trying to calm. It’s all he can do; just try to stay alive long enough to see this through to the end. Hopefully soon, he’ll be able to take matters into his own teeth...

Blood still escaped his wounds by the time his reserves ran dry. No, no, this can’t happen to him. He already is going through enough pain as is, was he really going to have to resort to... to...

He didn’t have any real choice in the matter and he didn’t even have time to brace himself mentally before an acute piercing pain came into his chest. It was as if the half-life had stabbed right through him, and he instinctively tried to struggle, only to provoke another seizure that only worsened his situation. He felt no sign of the half-life, no resistance of his blade in his flesh. 

No, what he was experiencing was his own body sacrificing his Gravity Beam sacs, deteriorating the organs and reducing them into the same energy he would become when cocooning into his asteroid. Except this time, it was piece by piece, with his pain receptors fully intact. There was no pleasant numbing to ease the process.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had to go through something like this. At least back then, he was certain he would’ve been able to watch the process and see the results to make himself feel better. Here, he couldn’t observe the progress being made, nor estimate how much longer he’d have to endure this torture. Was this even worth it?

Wave after wave of added torment pierced through his chest, and each one made his focus waver that much more. His heart was racing so fast, from fear and from working hard to transport this new source of energy with what little blood was left. But even that was starting to weaken. It was harder to think, before thought disappeared completely. The pain was becoming dull, including the constant throb of the active chip. Wait, no... The sensation of the chip, the thing that plagued his dreams and life, was gone now.

An irrational sense of happiness flowed through him; the pain was gone, the chip was gone. Have he succeeded in healing? Was this happiness his reward? Was it time to rest from the ordeal? He didn’t know. All he knew now was a sense of bliss as his crests gave him the biggest dose of euphoria that he’s ever felt. 

Before that too faded into nothingness.

-

"Scoli, I need another glass. Right fuckin' now."

"Hello to you too." The centipede grumbled before glancing up. His mandibles opened in clear disgust. "You couldn't have cleaned up better?"

"Not in the mood, Legs," Gigan hissed, taking the glass just as the other kaiju finished pouring his drink. He takes a swig, savoring the taste and letting it work its magic. "Y'know, I put so much work into that guy and this is how I'm rewarded?"

“A bad lay, huh?” Scolopendra muttered in feigned interest.

“You have no idea,” He took another gulp. “Y’know, I had my suspicions that it would be his first time and yeah it was, and wanna know why?”

“Not really.”

“He had NOTHING between those legs. His damn Masters didn’t even give him junk, how fucked up do they have to be to not think of that?!” He continued to vent between drinks. “As fucked as MY Masters were, at least they left the rest of me intact. Even the bastards who did THIS-” He gestured at his own body. “-left well enough alone. But damn, that dragon can’t do shit. No wonder all he does is kill things, he literally has nothing else better to do with his time. Can’t eat, can’t drink, can’t fuck.” He shook his head. "I'd almost feel bad for him if he wasn't such an asshole. But I'd probably be an asshole too if I couldn't enjoy anything. How he managed to live like that for so long, I have no idea."

"Maybe it doesn't occur to you that if he doesn't have those abilities, then he probably never cared. Can't miss what you never had."

"Well, I've been trying to change that. Show him that yeah, killing is fun, but there's more to life than THAT." 

Another gulp and a moment of silence, as Gigan finished his drink and pushed the empty glass towards Scolopendra for a refill.

“Credit though, it was fun at first. Those throats of his, damn.”

“I don’t need to know the details.”

Gigan continued anyway. “He shoots lightning out of his mouth, and I tell you, that kind of energy made him feel real nice.”

“Gigan!”

“But it would be nice to fuck him properly. Maybe I can find a race that has the knowledge to do some surgery on him. Get a proper hole on him so I don’t have to keep making one myself. Heh.” A smirk came to his face. “Imagine that, get him custom-made just for me. Maybe throw in a stomach too.” He chuckled a bit but that died when he saw the look the centipede gave him. It wasn’t one he was expecting, scolding and with great disapproval. He maintained eye contact as he took a sip of his refilled drink. “What?”

“... What the fuck, Gigan?” Scolopendra started.

“What?” he responded with a defensive hiss.

“I asked not to hear about it, but... But what the fuck do you mean ‘keep making one myself’? What did you do?” Well, at last, the damn bug had interest in what he was saying, even if it was with obvious disgust.

“I told you. I made a hole. Between those legs.” The stinger of his tail clicked with emphasis and the look the centipede gave him was growing even more judgmental. It was enough to make him laugh. “Oh, stop acting like you care. If he were any other bitch, I would’ve done much worse. And had a free meal after.”

Scolopendra shook his head. “Would’ve actually preferred if you ate him like the rest of your ‘bitches’. Always made me feel better pretending it’s a legit hunting method of yours.”

“Eh, this job is making you soft, you’ll get over it,” the cyborg continued dismissively. “Anyway, the whole thing would’ve been fun, but apparently, the dragon couldn’t handle it. Damn thing passed out on me.”

“Passed out? Or died from fuckin’ being impaled?”

“Noooo,” Gigan drawled, taking another gulp. “He was still bleeding when I left.”

“Oh, okay, so he’s dying. Good to know, considering he’s the reason I’ve been giving you drinks in the first place. But now that he’s bleeding out...” 

Gigan gave him an unamused look, which Scolopendra met with his own. The moment of silence was thick before the cyborg gave one last gulp to finish his drink before slamming it back on the bar with force. “Fiiiine. I’ll go check on him.”

“You do that,” the centipede grumbled, just wanting any excuse for the cyborg to leave his establishment. “We’re also closing soon, so don’t bother coming back.” He watched the blue kaiju raise a blade in acknowledgement as he left before the centipede pulled out the communicator from beneath the bar. He pressed in a few buttons before speaking in a soft whisper.

“Hey, boss. Gigan, y’know, that idiot cyborg we banned? Yeah, he just left... Mhm... No, I told him to leave but he brought GHIDORAH in here... Yeah, THAT Ghidorah, how many Ghidorahs do you know? Now that monster knows our location, what now?” He nodded a couple of times before- “The Strawberry cloud?” He lets out an audible sigh. “I’ll get things packed up here.”

..............

“Huh? ..... Nothing’s wrong, I was just hoping we’d move to the Pineapple cloud instead... Wait, we can?”

For the first time since Gigan showed up, the centipede smiled.

-

What the actual hell was this?

Gigan glared at the sphere in front of him, and beyond, Ghidorah lying on the ground. He almost walked right into it and would’ve if it wasn’t for the red firey tendrils that pulsed through it alerting him to its presence. He lifted a claw and gave the sphere an experimental tap.

A spark courses up his blade and into the flesh of his arm and he flinched away. It actually wasn’t bad, although probably enough to kill off small species, like their old Masters. But it does nothing to discourage him, as his visor locks on the motionless form of the dragon. The fact that the dragon thought this would be enough to protect him; maybe from those tiny aliens, but definitely not from him. It was enough to push his irritation out of his mind to be replaced with smug amusement.

He’ll show him how useless this was.

Lifting his claw high, he struck the sphere with strength, sparks erupting from the impact. His other claw followed, slashing into the same spot to weaken it. He continues, increasing the amount of force with each blow until he can make out a crack.

A smirk grew on his beak, and his visor began to glow before a blast of his laser shoots at the weakened spot. On impact, the beam scattered into smaller extensions of itself, increasing the area of damage. It proved enough and the shield shattered. The red wisps of energy flung outwards, dissipating into the pink haze around them.

With a chuckle, his eye settled back onto the dragon lying in a puddle of his own blood. At least it looked as though all that twitching from earlier has stopped. Coming closer, he took notice that Ghidorah looked... thinner somehow. Yeah, he was definitely thinner, he can even make out the shape of the bones in his tails. Something was wrong, very wrong.

“Ghidorah, you awake?” Probably not, given the lack of a reaction to his precious forcefield being destroyed. Those six eyes were still open, still glassy and unfocused. Even those crests have lost their glow. He gave one of those faces a light kick with his foot. Nothing.

The damn thing doesn’t even breathe, so he couldn’t use that as a means to check for life. Does Ghidorah have a heart? A pulse to check? If he bleeds, he probably has some equivalent to such, right? He pulled up the files in his memory bank of what his Masters knew about the wyvern, but beyond the origin of his existence and the mind-control chip, they had nothing else. No anatomy, nothing.

It took a moment before Gigan abandoned his efforts to dig deeper, and he decided to test for life the only way he knew how. He kneeled down beside the dragon and with a blade, he sliced a cut through a patch of scales that was still free of blood-stains.

He scanned the wound for a few seconds before realizing, the dragon wasn’t bleeding.

....

Shit.