Borneo — 2010
The rainforest had changed.
Where the wreckage once lay, the jungle now pulsed with unnatural life. Vines glowed faintly at night, feeding off buried veins of Hollow Earth radiation. Gigantism spread through the ecosystem: crocodiles longer than buses, dragonflies the size of hawks, and trees whose roots coiled like serpents.
Locals called it "Tanah Ular" — The Serpent's Land.
No one who entered came back.
Monarch satellites registered strange seismic patterns beneath the region, as if something enormous was moving slowly underground, tracing the shape of rivers and root systems. The readings showed near-human patterns — methodical, deliberate patrols.
The Apex Serpent
Beneath the canopy, in a cathedral of tangled roots and glowing orchids, the Hollow Serpent reigned.
Its scales were black-green and metallic, faintly bioluminescent along the ridges of its spine. Its eyes—once primal and bestial—now shimmered with eerie, calculating focus.
In the early years, it had fed only to survive. The corpses of the crashed researchers provided the first feast, their human DNA infusing its evolving brain. The mutation rewrote its neural structure, granting cognition and awareness that no Titan should possess.
Now it understood hunger, territory, survival… and power.
Through the years, it hunted silently through its domain: crocodiles, pythons, giant monitor lizards, even mutated primates drawn by the orchid's radiation. Each new meal offered a potential adaptation. But the serpent had learned restraint — to choose which DNA to integrate.
The humans' knowledge remained locked in its mind: memories of tools, machines, even Monarch's insignia burned into its memory like ancient runes. It knew the world beyond the jungle existed. And it wanted more.
The Blood Orchids
The orchids had spread miles across the valley floor, blooming in impossible abundance. The serpent guarded them fiercely — they were its lifeblood, the source of its power and the key to further evolution.
Every few weeks, it slithered through the glowing fields, devouring clusters of orchids whole. The radiation within them fused with its body, enhancing strength, expanding its senses, and granting brief glimpses into Hollow Earth frequencies.
Sometimes, when it fed too deeply, its scales would shimmer with a pale blue fire — the same hue that once radiated from the ancient egg. The energy resonated down into the planet, whispering faint echoes that only Titans could hear.
A low, rumbling sound — too deep for human ears — rolled through the earth.
Somewhere far below, in the Hollow Earth itself, something answered.
Monarch Surveillance Report — 2010
File: TITANUS SERPENTIS — Borneo
Observation Summary:
• Unconfirmed Titan activity within Borneo basin.
• Local megafauna mutations consistent with Hollow Earth radiation.
• Energy pulses detected — same frequency as 1973 Skull Island anomaly.
• No human survivors or confirmed sightings.
Agent Note:
"Whatever's in that jungle, it's not just feeding. It's thinking. We're seeing pattern movement — perimeter routes, feeding schedules… territory defense. That's not instinct. That's intent."
Closing Scene
Night over Borneo. Rain whispers through the trees. Deep in the valley, beneath a sea of glowing orchids, the Hollow Serpent rests coiled around a fallen helicopter fuselage — a relic of its birth.
Its eyes open.
Lightning flickers across its scales, illuminating scars of a thousand hunts. In the distance, thunder rumbles — a faint echo of the same storm that created it.
It lifts its head, tasting the air.
Salt. Iron. Ocean wind.
Far beyond the jungle, across the sea, something massive stirs. The call of another Alpha.
The serpent turns toward the horizon.
Four years later, the world would know the name Godzilla.
But in the heart of Borneo, a different god was already awake.