Titanomachy, Chapter One

Prologue


Central Siberia, 1977.


A nearby twig snapped, and Yuri Kliment froze.

The dark shape looked human, thickly clothed perhaps, but it moved through the conifer trees like an automaton. Or a zombie, Yuri thought darkly. The figure plodded onward through ankle-deep snow, deeper into the cold, dark forest. Yuri cautiously followed.

Not once did Yuri take his eyes off the strange figure. It seemed to ignore him; in his brown leather coat and ushanka he must’ve looked just like it. More figures like him and it materialized out of the trees, all of them heading deeper into the forest as if drawn by some unseen signal. Like it or not, Yuri knew they were here for the same reason he was.

A recently fired auto mechanic, the gaunt-looking native of Saint Petersburg had been walking for hours now, almost nonstop. His white Moskvitch-408 was a powerful little thing, his tinkering had made sure of that, but she’d given up the mechanical ghost a day ago and many miles back. By now his baby must’ve been encased in a film of inch-thick ice and snow. Should’ve grabbed another coat, he thought, feeling at the silvery stubble that had sprouted up in the days he’d gone without shaving. But he felt grateful for the extra fuzz; it was cold out here, bitterly cold, and yet…onward he marched.

When he first heard it two weeks ago, he thought he’d imagined it. He thought it was the vodka, that bitter and clear elixir in which he’d sought to drown his sorrows and, eventually, himself. But now, seeing these others here, he knew there really was something here, something that had drawn him – no, compelled him – to find this desolate place. That something resonated from deep inside him; it was ancient, it was primal, and it chilled his very blood.

Look here, Yuri, it whispered in both of his ears, this is for you. Join us, Yuri. Join us. The words whistled down through the trees as if riding on the frigid Siberian wind.

Here, Yuri. Join us. Join us.

The repetition made it seem almost mechanical, but there was no doubt that whoever or whatever was talking was a living, breathing thing. It was neither fear nor reason that controlled Yuri now. Curiosity had set its hooks deep in his heart and soul…and there would be no turning back.

Through the treeline ahead Yuri could see even more figures trudging along, every last one of them thick with winter clothing. Something up ahead had kept the forest at bay, Yuri noticed, but it was enshrouded in mist…or was it steam? He wasn’t sure. He moved closer, closer now. He could nearly see it.

And as the fog parted on his approach, Yuri Kliment gasped.

There must have been more than a thousand people here, all of them scattered around the banks of a strange bubbling lake. He could see faces from every age and nationality, all of them staring blankly at the black, steaming waters. There was no snow here; the lake’s unnatural energies gave off enough heat to scour the land of snow for fifty feet in every direction. Yuri paid it no mind as his own steps crunched upon tinder-dry wood and heat-loving patches of moss. The gaunt Russian’s skin tingled and itched as radioactive particles rose through the steam to caress him, but this too he ignored.

Join us, Yuri. Join us, the lake whispered in his ears, drawing him ever closer.

“Yes, yes, I’ll be there soon. I will be there soon…”, Yuri mumbled as, without thinking, he slowly stepped forward; others nearby walked in tune with him, hearing their own names being called by the unseen sirens of the lake. None of them saw the snow-caked conifers across the lake cracking and splintering, nor felt the shaking of the earth beneath their feet. They were as good as dead to the world, their minds ensnared by the invisible temptation that drew them into the bubbling lake. First one, then another, then others more entered the warm and rippling waters, tearing their thick winter clothing from their bodies. Naked, they submerged until not even bubbles of air escaped them; it was as if they’d simply walked into the lake and drowned. The rumbling across the lake steadily grew louder.

Standing knee-deep in the lake, Yuri Kliment took in one last strange sight. Emerging from the ancient conifers across the lake was a horned monstrosity, a kaiju that mankind at large had not laid eyes upon since the last ice age. Legs like skyscrapers swept out from the treeline and carried an immense black body above, stopping the monster so it loomed over the lake and the humans that entered it as if on command. It stood so tall that its bulk nearly blocked out the moon glowing brightly above.

The monster raised a huge arm to its beaked jaws, then bit down hard. A thick curtain of red bubbled, then dripped down into the lake nearly two hundred feet below, dousing some of the humans. Most didn’t react, but a few stopped to raise their hands reverently, as if to take and grasp this gift, as if receiving a blessing from a source most divine. Some smiled widely and drank it in, dousing and smearing their bodies in the crimson tide, marking themselves and each other in strange swirling patterns. A deep red slick spread out across the lake before sinking in; already the kaiju’s blood was beginning to react with the lake’s strange chemistry. Even through the pain the monster chuckled deeply and dryly, the sound like the rustling of a million autumn leaves.

Then it turned its piercing gaze towards Yuri. The gaunt Russian looked up into the monster’s eyes; he could’ve sworn it was looking right at him. He suddenly felt very, very small.

Yuri had nothing left. No family, no real friends, no job, no money, nothing at all to live for. He was lost to this world, this wretched world that turned its back and all its endless misfortunes against him, but the beast that stood before him, silent and god-like…it knew. It had always known. It had planned this. It wanted this for him, it must have. Why else would it call him here? Look at them all; why else would it call on any of these lost and pitiable souls? The monster had a plan that needed them all, and to accept his offer – to accept their reward – all they must do was answer his call. Yuri grinned and giggled like a drunk, realizing that for once in his miserable worthless life, he had chosen wisely.

No words were spoken, but Yuri’s mission was clear.

Sinking deep into the bubbling atom bog, Yuri Kliment surrendered.