Back in 1956, world leaders were left stunned by the revelation of colossal creatures of various shapes and sizes scattered across the globe. These creatures had been residing in hidden pocket dimensions, shielded by mystical forces that kept them invisible to the majority of humanity.
Only a select few individuals possessed the ability to perceive these creatures clearly. Recognizing the significance of their discovery, these individuals brought the matter to the attention of the global governments. This marked the first official acknowledgment of these mysterious monsters.
Rather than disclosing this discovery to the public and revealing the existence of the magic concealing these beasts, governments worldwide decided to keep the information classified. They initiated covert studies of the creatures, not out of curiosity but in hopes of weaponizing them for their own purposes.
By the early 2000s, their efforts bore fruit. Some nations succeeded in controlling a handful of the monsters, training them to follow commands like obedient pets. This achievement was subtly paraded as a show of dominance, with governments leveraging their newfound power to intimidate rival nations.
In 2010, however, disaster struck. Out of nowhere, unidentified monsters began launching devastating attacks on cities around the globe, leaving chaos and destruction in their wake.
Accusations flew as governments blamed one another, each claiming that rival nations had unleashed their controlled monsters to instigate war. In retaliation, these nations deployed their own monsters to combat both the rogue creatures and their perceived enemies. What started as a defensive strategy quickly escalated into a catastrophic World War IV. Nations sought not only to prove their dominance by showcasing control over their monsters but also to eliminate potential future threats by wiping out rival powers.
Amid this chaos, a brilliant yet controversial scientist named Professor Sato emerged. Renowned for his eccentric ideas, he proposed an audacious plan: to not merely control existing monsters but to engineer an entirely new breed—one designed from scratch.
His vision was to create self-grown monsters devoid of independent thought. These artificial creatures would function much like nuclear weapons—immensely powerful but standardized, ensuring no single country could gain an overwhelming advantage. Their design would also make them easily identifiable, preventing confusion during conflicts.
Sato's proposal was eventually accepted as part of a peace agreement among the surviving nations. It also included the dismantling of all previously controlled monsters. By the end of 2015, World War IV came to a formal close.
Over the next decade, Professor Sato dedicated himself to realizing his vision. Yet, despite tireless efforts, all he managed to produce were clones of existing monsters. Frustration and desperation pushed him closer to the brink of madness. In 2025, Sato unveiled his most radical idea yet: using a human as the foundation to create a monster—one that embodied his ideals.
When he presented this idea to his peers, it was met with horror. His colleagues deemed the concept grotesque and unethical, labeling his creation a potential abomination. The world government outright rejected the notion, declaring human experimentation a violation of every moral code.
But Sato was already too far gone.
Defying their orders, he fled the World Government Laboratory Center and vanished into the remote mountains, where he constructed a hidden lab. With the aid of a small group of loyal scientists, he began conducting human experiments in secret. Using mercenaries and criminals to source his "materials," Sato plunged further into moral darkness—his actions casting a shadow even more terrifying than the monsters that had once haunted the world.
Sato's operation eventually came to light. A government spy infiltrated his facility, uncovering the truth and leading to a raid that destroyed his lab. His research was obliterated, and Sato himself was sentenced to death for his heinous crimes.
But Sato had planned for this.
Before his capture, he had perfected the process of altering a living being's biological structure. He applied this knowledge to himself, transforming his body into a near-immortal state. His modifications rendered him immune to poison and electricity, capable of surviving on mere drops of blood, and able to function with a heart that beat only faintly.
Sato's capture marked the end of his known atrocities, but whispers of his dark legacy lingered. The world remained haunted by the idea that someone, somewhere, might pick up where he left off.
As expected, Professor Sato was sentenced to death by electrocution. The execution was carried out swiftly—his head subjected to a massive surge of electricity that left his body charred beyond recognition. His remains were hastily buried in an unmarked grave deep in the mountains, ensuring his legacy would be forgotten.
But Sato had anticipated this outcome.
Hours later, his body stirred within the grave. Having modified his own physiology to resist electrocution, Sato awoke, weak but very much alive. Driven by sheer willpower, he clawed his way out of the dirt, emerging under the cover of night. Exhausted yet determined, he fled the mountains, trekking thousands of miles across land and sea until he reached a deserted island in the middle of the ocean.
It was there, surrounded by endless water and isolation, that Sato began to plan his resurgence. His mind, as sharp as ever, burned with renewed fervor for his twisted vision.
Using his ingenuity, Sato began rebuilding his laboratory from scratch. He engineered "accidents" near shipping lanes to attract passing vessels and scavenged the wreckage for materials. Over time, the scraps he collected became the foundation for a state-of-the-art lab hidden deep within the island. Despite the hardships, his determination never wavered.
During one of these staged accidents, Sato stumbled upon an unexpected opportunity. A lone survivor—a man with a powerful build and a brooding demeanor—washed ashore. Through observation, Sato learned that the man struggled with deep-seated anger issues and had been en route to therapy when fate intervened.
Seeing potential in the man, Sato captured him and began a horrific process of breaking him down. He subjected the man to unimaginable torture, both physical and psychological, pushing him to the brink of madness. Sato's goal was clear: to shatter the man's spirit completely, reducing him to a shell that could be molded into the ultimate monster.
The transformation process was grueling and time-consuming, but Sato was nothing if not patient. For him, success mattered far more than the time it took to achieve it. With each passing day, his experiments edged closer to fruition, and Sato reveled in the chaos he was creating.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, Sato's former colleagues were making their own strides. Having sifted through what remained of his research, they finally pieced together the puzzle he had left behind. To their astonishment—and dismay—they realized that Sato's controversial conclusions were correct.
If humanity wanted to create monsters that could be controlled with absolute precision, a human sacrifice was necessary as the foundation. The moral implications were horrifying, but desperation drove them forward.
Under the leadership of scientists Laurel and Clarisa, the team presented their findings to the world government. They argued that the risks of continuing with uncontrolled monsters far outweighed the ethical dilemmas of their method. Reluctantly, and under immense pressure, the government approved their research, opening the door to a new era of monstrous creation.
The race to control the future of monsters was now underway. Unknown to the world government, however, Sato was not only alive but far ahead in his sinister endeavors.
*****
Back to Professor Sato.
With his lab finally completed and his human experimentation well underway, Sato began to feel an unusual attachment to his research subject. This newfound connection stemmed not from empathy, but from his isolation. Years of seclusion and the absence of human interaction left him projecting his suppressed emotions onto the very being he was creating.
He named his subject Asoka, a choice that carried dark undertones. The name was a tribute—not to love or admiration—but to his late, abusive father. Sato hoped that his monstrous creation would embody the same ferocity and terror that his father had inflicted on him. In a twisted way, Asoka was both a tribute and a means of exorcising Sato's inner demons.
At first, Asoka resisted fiercely. Despite his transformed body, the remnants of his human mind remained intact, fueling his hatred for what had been done to him. He rebelled against every change, every new augmentation, driven by rage and despair.
But as time passed, something shifted. The relentless experimentation, combined with psychological conditioning, broke Asoka's will. Slowly, he began to accept his fate. Though more obedient, he retained an uncontrollable rage that would erupt whenever he was unleashed during tests, resulting in catastrophic destruction.
Recognizing this flaw, Sato devised a solution. He created a mental dampener—a device that suppressed Asoka's consciousness. The dampener ensured that Asoka would only awaken for brief periods, long enough to engage in battle but not to reach the full extent of his berserk state. This allowed Sato to control the chaos while still unleashing Asoka's terrifying power on his enemies.
One day, Sato turned his attention to a critical question: How should Asoka reach the battlefield? Swimming across the ocean seemed feasible, but the journey would be time-consuming. By the time Asoka arrived, the opportunity to strike might have already passed.
That's when Sato began researching teleportation technology. He had long been familiar with the basic theories, but practical application had always seemed out of reach. Yet, in his relentless pursuit of efficiency, Sato stumbled upon an idea: teleportation might be viable for a being like Asoka.
The key lay in Asoka's nature. As a hybrid creature with only a sliver of humanity left in his soul, Asoka's essence wouldn't be significantly altered by the deconstruction and reconstruction process of teleportation. This made him the perfect test subject for Sato's experiments.
Without hesitation, Sato dove into his research. He worked tirelessly, constructing a crude teleportation device and immediately using Asoka as his guinea pig. Each test was grueling. Asoka was sent through the teleportation process again and again, his body subjected to unimaginable pain and random, often horrifying side effects.
Yet Sato remained indifferent to Asoka's suffering. For Sato, the only thing that mattered was progress. Every successful test, every data point brought him closer to perfecting the device. Asoka's agony was merely collateral damage in Sato's grand vision—a small price to pay for the ultimate weapon of war.
*****
Ten years passed, and Asoka had grown stronger and more resilient under Professor Sato's relentless experiments. During this time, Sato developed a groundbreaking idea to enhance Asoka's capabilities—not just to grow stronger but to evolve and adapt at will, all under his direct control.
Sato designed this new ability to allow Asoka to devour various creatures, absorbing their nutrients and characteristics. Once the data was analyzed, Sato could guide Asoka's evolution, carefully steering him toward becoming the ultimate monster—a living weapon with limitless potential.
While Sato worked tirelessly on his secret island, Laurel and Clarisa were also progressing with their own project. Unlike Sato's organic approach, their plan was to create a fully engineered battle monster—a puppet designed to follow their commands with unwavering obedience.
As they advanced in their research, Laurel and Clarisa made a critical discovery: most monsters weren't inherently hostile toward humans. These creatures typically remained in their secluded pocket dimensions or hidden nests, existing peacefully as if humanity didn't even matter to them.
When monsters did emerge into human territories, they were often disoriented, frightened, and unintentional threats. In many cases, a simple act of guidance or redirection was enough to avoid conflict and restore peace.
This revelation cast doubt on the necessity of the monster-breeding project. The effort seemed like an extravagant waste of resources, time, and manpower. Laurel and Clarisa had to fight tooth and nail, leveraging every favor and connection, just to keep their work from being shut down.
But everything changed at the end of 2019, when the true purpose of their project became horrifyingly clear. A group of malevolent monsters emerged—creatures with a clear intent to harm humanity. Instead of peacefully existing in their domains, these monsters launched coordinated attacks, spreading destruction across the globe.
Their first assault targeted Northern Asia, with Russia and neighboring nations bearing the brunt. Emerging from the harsh Siberian Plateau, the monsters built sprawling nests and claimed the land for themselves. Over a decade, they systematically drove humans out, turning vast stretches of Russian territory into an uninhabitable monster domain.
The rise of this monster nation revived the urgency of Laurel and Clarisa's project. Their research suddenly became humanity's best hope of combating the escalating threat.
As they prepared to unleash their creation, a new disaster struck. A monstrous beast attacked the coastline of Eastern America, triggering a massive tsunami that obliterated nearby cities and killed millions.
Just as Laurel and Clarisa prepared to deploy their battle monster, something unexpected happened. Asoka appeared seemingly out of nowhere, engaged the invading monster in a ferocious battle, and swiftly killed it. Before anyone could respond, he vanished as suddenly as he had arrived.
*****
Back to the present.
In their heavily fortified control center, Laurel and Clarisa oversaw the final preparations for their monster's launch. The pilot was seated in the cockpit, systems were running smoothly, and their creation stood ready for activation.
"Are you ready, Clarisa?" Laurel asked, his voice betraying a hint of anxiety.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Clarisa replied, her tone mirroring his unease.
Just as they were about to issue the launch command, a staff member burst into the room, visibly alarmed.
"Sir! Urgent news!" the staffer shouted. "There's been an attack reported at Mount Fuji in Japan! The mountain has split in two, and a gigantic monster has emerged!"
Laurel frowned, his hands hovering over the controls. "How big is this monster?" he demanded.
"It's estimated to be fifty meters tall—the largest ever recorded!"
Clarisa and Laurel exchanged worried glances. Their monster was formidable, but at only twenty meters tall, it seemed almost puny compared to this new threat.
"What do we do now?" Clarisa asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Before Laurel could respond, another staff member rushed in with even more shocking news.
"Sir! The lizard monster—the one from before—it's appeared again and is challenging the one at Mount Fuji!"
Laurel's eyes widened. "Deploy our monster now!" he barked.
"But what should we call it?" a junior technician hesitated, glancing nervously at the towering creature.
Laurel's expression hardened. "Its name is Sota—after the man who defied the world and, somehow, might still be alive. Now GO!"
With urgency rippling through the room, Laurel turned back to his computer, issuing commands as the monstrous battle on Mount Fuji began to unfold.