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Description

Entity LAMBTON (AKA REPTILICUS)
First Sighting: Iceland, 1965
Size: Parental specimen estimated to be 275 meters in length
Weight: Parental specimen estimated to be 50,000 tonnes

History: In the brief lull between the fall of Matango Island and the arrival of Gorath was a period of relative peace on Earth. There had been no major kaiju incursions since the Rodan attack in 1957 and since then Monarch had made monumental discoveries in the research of kaiju biology thanks to their discovery of the Cosmos Kingdom (and having access to the few remaining pieces of the Matango Blight organism). Meanwhile their Soviet counterparts in the Anti-Megalosaurus Force lagged significantly behind. Despite enjoying increased governmental support thanks to their role in containing the Rodan siblings, they were no closer to understanding the kaiju menace than when they had first been founded. In an effort to try and obtain some new lead that could guide them to their own Mothra, the AMF began collecting and poring through hundreds of thousands of texts from within the USSR’s sphere of influence (and some outside that), nearly all of them dead-ends. But amidst all these countless tales lay one in particular that bore some piece of truth.

The legend of the Lambton Worm isn’t a particularly well-known one among those who study folklore; an obscure tale from the annals of British history that speaks of an eel-like being capable of seemingly unlimited regeneration stopped by a brave warrior coated in a suit of armor itself covered in massive spikes. The cryptozoologists at both the AMF and Monarch were aware of the story, but neither necessarily deigned to give it any second thought. That was, until a similar legend was unearthed in Iceland that spoke of a massive serpent incapable of being harmed in any meaningful way by conventional weapons terrorizing the people of the island for years on end. Its venom turned the sea they relied on into a dead zone, countless ships of brave warriors were crushed in its coils, and from every piece lost in battle, a new and equally ravenous being would be born. But as the situation seemed well and truly hopeless for the people of Iceland, a champion would arise from the depths of the sea. A colossal beast, coated in a carapace of spikes, immune to the acidic venom the serpent spewed. For three days the two brawled, eventually spilling into the depths of the island where neither would ever be seen again.

This story was still considered nothing more than myth, embellishment by Norse storytellers from thousands of years ago and nothing more. That was, until an unfortunate bout of volcanism on the tiny island broke open a glacier within the frigid interior. From the ensuing fissure spilled forth an acidic green sludge that turned the earth itself black with death and liquified any life that came in contact with it. Dozens of farmers fled the interior, fearing for their lives, all of them speaking of “the immortal serpent of the sea risen once more”. The Icelandic government, acting quickly, quarantined the dead lands and bought the silence of most of the families whose lives had been affected. In secrecy, they reached out to the USSR for aid, hoping to use their vast resources to stymie the flow of information. The AMF, still desperate for any kind of lead, figured this opportunity was as good as any and mounted an expedition piggybacking off of a Soviet battalion deployed to aid in the containment efforts. Initial efforts were slow, as there was no hazardous waste gear capable of withstanding the extreme acidity of the vermillion tide for any prolonged period of time. After nearly a week of fighting back the unending river of corrosive liquid, Soviet soldiers had finally managed to divert the flow enough for the AMF to enter the hollow and investigate what laid within.

Inside was discovered the frozen, semi-living corpse of the regenerating serpent spoken of in Icelandic myth, its body coated in a thick layer of ice and riddled with countless holes, its maw still pouring forth acid in a vain attempt to defend itself from a long gone attacker. At last, the AMF had found a living kaiju practically gift-wrapped for their purposes. But there was still the issue of how best to study it. To truly grasp the kaiju and their secrets, it was determined that the being (dubbed “Reptilicus”) must be thoroughly dissected and studied in the confines of the USSR. Plans were made to haul the carcass back in pieces for easier transportation, a plan that was to be accomplished by blasting the frozen serpent with tons of dynamite. Bundles of TNT were placed along the length of the frozen reptilian colossus, especially clustered near the head, and detonated in a thunderous explosion that blew the corpsicle into easily transportable chunks.

The next several weeks consisted of extensive reclamation efforts to try and collect every errant piece of the destroyed organism to haul back to civilization. Placed in crates and brought aboard the Dutch ship Malevolent, the boat was soon laden with hundreds of crates filled with pieces of the dead monster. At last, all seemed to be going well for the AMF. Until the boat made landfall. After nearly a month in transit, the derelict hulk of the Malevolent came barreling into port, smashing through dozens of smaller boats unable to get out of the way in time before finally colliding with the shore where it came to rest. An emergency response crew was assembled, hoping to figure out if there were any members of the crew still alive that could answer what had happened. But aboard, all that could be found were discarded pieces of clothing, smears of long-dried blood, and a rotting hand bereft of a body. But even as the rescue team explored the vessel they could hear the telltale signs of life below deck: something distinctly inhuman.

Within the cargo hold, a great stench permeated. The smell of rot and death, of liquified flesh and splintered bone, and at the center of this miasma rested the coiled forms of several colossal serpents, their snouts still covered in the lingering viscera of the former crew. It was only through quick thinking and stunningly good fortune that the rescue team managed to escape the monsters unmolested. The AMF were quickly summoned to contain the ravenous reptilian menace before they could escape the Malevolent and lay waste to the mainland. They were at a loss as to how these entities could have wound up on the ship in the first place since they had been transported as chunks of meat. The answer to the riddle would have to come later; stopping the Reptisaurs (as the smaller spawn had been dubbed) in their tracks had to take precedence. Carefully, the ship was hauled back out to sea where it was hoped the Reptisaurs could be destroyed without endangering the populace. The official cover story was that the ship was infested with sickness carrying rats, hence the need to destroy it on open water.

Torpedoed by a Soviet submarine, the Malevolent and its contents were quickly sunk to the bottom of the sea and it was hoped the Reptilicus had perished along with it. Over the next several years, however, periodic sightings of “sea serpents” would be reported by fishermen out on open water as well as partially liquified sea life dredged from the bottom of the ocean floor. To this day, the verdict is out on whether or not the Reptisaurs may one day pose a significant threat to the civilian populace of the world, but for now they seem content to remain beneath the waves.

Description: Initially believed to be a primitive species of stem-ophidian, the Reptisaurs are in truth the largest lissamphibians on the planet, with their most massive representative being nearly 300 meters in length (although it should be noted this specimen is considered abnormal among the superspecies; most seem to max out at 20 meters in length, at most). Later found to be relatives of the Ekitaigama of the Transantarctic Ecosystem, the Reptisaurs can be considered the “perfect” form of their sludge-like relatives. Unlike the liquid toads and their continuously degrading cellular structure, Reptisaurs instead possess a nigh-on unparalleled regenerative capability perhaps only matched by the final form of Hedorah; much like the apocalyptic amalgam, Reptisaurs are capable of regenerating into a complete organism from as little organic material as a discarded tooth. It is for this very reason that many kaiju researchers have begun to question whether or not the Reptisaurs can accurately be considered a proper superspecies as opposed to a singular clonal superorganism. Tissue cultures harvested from terminated specimens seem to confirm the genetic homogeneity of the species, hypothesized to be due to all specimens technically originating from a singular source. It is as of yet unknown whether or not they were at one point more genetically diverse before being reduced down to the singular specimen found in Iceland, as Reptisaurs do not seem to breed conventionally and they are nearly totally absent from the mega-fossil record.

This is perhaps a somewhat curious revelation, given how widespread the superspecies is across the planet’s oceans but begins to make more sense when one considers that the only calcified aspects of a Reptisaurs’ skeletal structure are their teeth and claws. Much like hagfish or chondrichthyes, Reptisaurs otherwise possess a cartilaginous skeleton that not only allows for faster regeneration of lost limbs but also incredibly sinuous movements compared to most other kaiju, a highly valuable ability given their general low-standing in the kaiju ecosystem. In spite of the threat they pose to creatures smaller than themselves, Reptisaurs are in fact prey to many other much more massive entities throughout their potentially millennia long lifespans. Their sinuous, fluid movements enable them to more easily escape gnashing jaws and wedge themselves into hard to reach crevasses while their muscular anatomy also gives them tremendous constricting power to deal with prey or grapple with opponents when necessary. Smaller specimens may in addition surge out of the water and glide over the surface on leathery patagia derived from an extra pair of ribs. More massive specimens are incapable of this particular tactic, instead using their former patagia as display structures to make themselves look larger than they really are. The Reptisaurs’ most vicious defense is, of course, their vermillion acid. Derived from the same basic chemical components found in the Ekitaigama’s self-defensive secretions, the acid of the Reptisaurs is not only vastly more caustic, but also projectile. Concentrated in glands within the mouth, and with a density thicker than water, the serpentine scourge can eject streams of acid at attackers (or prey), usually aimed at the eyes or gills. Totally fatal to most conventional forms of life, the acid is usually little more than a mild irritant for most proper kaiju.

Their final line of defense, when all else fails and death is knocking on their door, is most obviously their regenerative capabilities. Reptisaurs frequently shed their scales in combat, each and every one functioning as a sort of “serpent seed” that will fully regenerate into a smaller version of the parent organism within a matter of days. It is believed that this is to ensure that even if the parent is in fact consumed, they may technically still live on through their clonal offspring. Some more radical kaiju biologists have even suggested that all Reptisaurs possess a sort of ‘genetic memory’ or ‘hive mind’ that enables them to share thoughts and ideas. The AMF vehemently denies any such claim, and most research has been inconclusive as to whether or not they actually do possess ‘genetic memory’, although they do seem to display a sort of cooperation. Smaller specimens will often willingly submit to being consumed by larger ones, for reasons that aren’t wholly understood. Similarly sized specimens, however, will often cooperate with one another to procure food and defend each other. Whether or not this demonstrates a collective conscience is a matter of debate.

This isn’t the only mystery surrounding the Reptisaur species, however. The most curious aspect of the species as a whole was the discovery of their absolute largest representative, the barely living leviathan buried beneath the frost of Iceland known as Reptilicus (though some among the AMF insist on calling the creature “Scarysaurus”). It isn’t known how or why the creature grew so large compared to its diminutive brethren, though many wild theories abound. The prevailing idea is that Reptilicus is an “alpha” member of the species, an exceptionally ancient and powerful Reptisaur that through wit, strength, and sheer good luck managed to metamorphose into a proper kaiju over the course of millions of years. It is believed that every Reptisaur has the potential to become a new Reptilicus under exceptional circumstances but few ever do thanks to predation. This creature must have surely been a force to be reckoned with in its heyday, although by the time it was discovered it was barely clinging to life. The question still stands as to what could have possibly managed to cripple such a colossal creature, why it didn’t simply finish it off there and then, and more importantly, where such a being may have disappeared to….

———

[NOT] NEXT: Like Nothing You've Ever Seen Before!

———

As stated in the title this is a non-canonical fan entry (yes, I realize the recursive nature of a fanfic having its own fanfic) which was written by and I decided to illustrate it because he's a friend and it was definitely worthwhile to show to others (gives me a chance to redesign an out-of-context kaiju too). Note that this will (probably) be a one-time thing so don't expect this again anytime soon!

We will continue with our regularly scheduled program right after this.

Description

Entity LAMBTON (AKA REPTILICUS)
First Sighting: Iceland, 1965
Size: Parental specimen estimated to be 275 meters in length
Weight: Parental specimen estimated to be 50,000 tonnes

History: In the brief lull between the fall of Matango Island and the arrival of Gorath was a period of relative peace on Earth. There had been no major kaiju incursions since the Rodan attack in 1957 and since then Monarch had made monumental discoveries in the research of kaiju biology thanks to their discovery of the Cosmos Kingdom (and having access to the few remaining pieces of the Matango Blight organism). Meanwhile their Soviet counterparts in the Anti-Megalosaurus Force lagged significantly behind. Despite enjoying increased governmental support thanks to their role in containing the Rodan siblings, they were no closer to understanding the kaiju menace than when they had first been founded. In an effort to try and obtain some new lead that could guide them to their own Mothra, the AMF began collecting and poring through hundreds of thousands of texts from within the USSR’s sphere of influence (and some outside that), nearly all of them dead-ends. But amidst all these countless tales lay one in particular that bore some piece of truth.

The legend of the Lambton Worm isn’t a particularly well-known one among those who study folklore; an obscure tale from the annals of British history that speaks of an eel-like being capable of seemingly unlimited regeneration stopped by a brave warrior coated in a suit of armor itself covered in massive spikes. The cryptozoologists at both the AMF and Monarch were aware of the story, but neither necessarily deigned to give it any second thought. That was, until a similar legend was unearthed in Iceland that spoke of a massive serpent incapable of being harmed in any meaningful way by conventional weapons terrorizing the people of the island for years on end. Its venom turned the sea they relied on into a dead zone, countless ships of brave warriors were crushed in its coils, and from every piece lost in battle, a new and equally ravenous being would be born. But as the situation seemed well and truly hopeless for the people of Iceland, a champion would arise from the depths of the sea. A colossal beast, coated in a carapace of spikes, immune to the acidic venom the serpent spewed. For three days the two brawled, eventually spilling into the depths of the island where neither would ever be seen again.

This story was still considered nothing more than myth, embellishment by Norse storytellers from thousands of years ago and nothing more. That was, until an unfortunate bout of volcanism on the tiny island broke open a glacier within the frigid interior. From the ensuing fissure spilled forth an acidic green sludge that turned the earth itself black with death and liquified any life that came in contact with it. Dozens of farmers fled the interior, fearing for their lives, all of them speaking of “the immortal serpent of the sea risen once more”. The Icelandic government, acting quickly, quarantined the dead lands and bought the silence of most of the families whose lives had been affected. In secrecy, they reached out to the USSR for aid, hoping to use their vast resources to stymie the flow of information. The AMF, still desperate for any kind of lead, figured this opportunity was as good as any and mounted an expedition piggybacking off of a Soviet battalion deployed to aid in the containment efforts. Initial efforts were slow, as there was no hazardous waste gear capable of withstanding the extreme acidity of the vermillion tide for any prolonged period of time. After nearly a week of fighting back the unending river of corrosive liquid, Soviet soldiers had finally managed to divert the flow enough for the AMF to enter the hollow and investigate what laid within.

Inside was discovered the frozen, semi-living corpse of the regenerating serpent spoken of in Icelandic myth, its body coated in a thick layer of ice and riddled with countless holes, its maw still pouring forth acid in a vain attempt to defend itself from a long gone attacker. At last, the AMF had found a living kaiju practically gift-wrapped for their purposes. But there was still the issue of how best to study it. To truly grasp the kaiju and their secrets, it was determined that the being (dubbed “Reptilicus”) must be thoroughly dissected and studied in the confines of the USSR. Plans were made to haul the carcass back in pieces for easier transportation, a plan that was to be accomplished by blasting the frozen serpent with tons of dynamite. Bundles of TNT were placed along the length of the frozen reptilian colossus, especially clustered near the head, and detonated in a thunderous explosion that blew the corpsicle into easily transportable chunks.

The next several weeks consisted of extensive reclamation efforts to try and collect every errant piece of the destroyed organism to haul back to civilization. Placed in crates and brought aboard the Dutch ship Malevolent, the boat was soon laden with hundreds of crates filled with pieces of the dead monster. At last, all seemed to be going well for the AMF. Until the boat made landfall. After nearly a month in transit, the derelict hulk of the Malevolent came barreling into port, smashing through dozens of smaller boats unable to get out of the way in time before finally colliding with the shore where it came to rest. An emergency response crew was assembled, hoping to figure out if there were any members of the crew still alive that could answer what had happened. But aboard, all that could be found were discarded pieces of clothing, smears of long-dried blood, and a rotting hand bereft of a body. But even as the rescue team explored the vessel they could hear the telltale signs of life below deck: something distinctly inhuman.

Within the cargo hold, a great stench permeated. The smell of rot and death, of liquified flesh and splintered bone, and at the center of this miasma rested the coiled forms of several colossal serpents, their snouts still covered in the lingering viscera of the former crew. It was only through quick thinking and stunningly good fortune that the rescue team managed to escape the monsters unmolested. The AMF were quickly summoned to contain the ravenous reptilian menace before they could escape the Malevolent and lay waste to the mainland. They were at a loss as to how these entities could have wound up on the ship in the first place since they had been transported as chunks of meat. The answer to the riddle would have to come later; stopping the Reptisaurs (as the smaller spawn had been dubbed) in their tracks had to take precedence. Carefully, the ship was hauled back out to sea where it was hoped the Reptisaurs could be destroyed without endangering the populace. The official cover story was that the ship was infested with sickness carrying rats, hence the need to destroy it on open water.

Torpedoed by a Soviet submarine, the Malevolent and its contents were quickly sunk to the bottom of the sea and it was hoped the Reptilicus had perished along with it. Over the next several years, however, periodic sightings of “sea serpents” would be reported by fishermen out on open water as well as partially liquified sea life dredged from the bottom of the ocean floor. To this day, the verdict is out on whether or not the Reptisaurs may one day pose a significant threat to the civilian populace of the world, but for now they seem content to remain beneath the waves.

Description: Initially believed to be a primitive species of stem-ophidian, the Reptisaurs are in truth the largest lissamphibians on the planet, with their most massive representative being nearly 300 meters in length (although it should be noted this specimen is considered abnormal among the superspecies; most seem to max out at 20 meters in length, at most). Later found to be relatives of the Ekitaigama of the Transantarctic Ecosystem, the Reptisaurs can be considered the “perfect” form of their sludge-like relatives. Unlike the liquid toads and their continuously degrading cellular structure, Reptisaurs instead possess a nigh-on unparalleled regenerative capability perhaps only matched by the final form of Hedorah; much like the apocalyptic amalgam, Reptisaurs are capable of regenerating into a complete organism from as little organic material as a discarded tooth. It is for this very reason that many kaiju researchers have begun to question whether or not the Reptisaurs can accurately be considered a proper superspecies as opposed to a singular clonal superorganism. Tissue cultures harvested from terminated specimens seem to confirm the genetic homogeneity of the species, hypothesized to be due to all specimens technically originating from a singular source. It is as of yet unknown whether or not they were at one point more genetically diverse before being reduced down to the singular specimen found in Iceland, as Reptisaurs do not seem to breed conventionally and they are nearly totally absent from the mega-fossil record.

This is perhaps a somewhat curious revelation, given how widespread the superspecies is across the planet’s oceans but begins to make more sense when one considers that the only calcified aspects of a Reptisaurs’ skeletal structure are their teeth and claws. Much like hagfish or chondrichthyes, Reptisaurs otherwise possess a cartilaginous skeleton that not only allows for faster regeneration of lost limbs but also incredibly sinuous movements compared to most other kaiju, a highly valuable ability given their general low-standing in the kaiju ecosystem. In spite of the threat they pose to creatures smaller than themselves, Reptisaurs are in fact prey to many other much more massive entities throughout their potentially millennia long lifespans. Their sinuous, fluid movements enable them to more easily escape gnashing jaws and wedge themselves into hard to reach crevasses while their muscular anatomy also gives them tremendous constricting power to deal with prey or grapple with opponents when necessary. Smaller specimens may in addition surge out of the water and glide over the surface on leathery patagia derived from an extra pair of ribs. More massive specimens are incapable of this particular tactic, instead using their former patagia as display structures to make themselves look larger than they really are. The Reptisaurs’ most vicious defense is, of course, their vermillion acid. Derived from the same basic chemical components found in the Ekitaigama’s self-defensive secretions, the acid of the Reptisaurs is not only vastly more caustic, but also projectile. Concentrated in glands within the mouth, and with a density thicker than water, the serpentine scourge can eject streams of acid at attackers (or prey), usually aimed at the eyes or gills. Totally fatal to most conventional forms of life, the acid is usually little more than a mild irritant for most proper kaiju.

Their final line of defense, when all else fails and death is knocking on their door, is most obviously their regenerative capabilities. Reptisaurs frequently shed their scales in combat, each and every one functioning as a sort of “serpent seed” that will fully regenerate into a smaller version of the parent organism within a matter of days. It is believed that this is to ensure that even if the parent is in fact consumed, they may technically still live on through their clonal offspring. Some more radical kaiju biologists have even suggested that all Reptisaurs possess a sort of ‘genetic memory’ or ‘hive mind’ that enables them to share thoughts and ideas. The AMF vehemently denies any such claim, and most research has been inconclusive as to whether or not they actually do possess ‘genetic memory’, although they do seem to display a sort of cooperation. Smaller specimens will often willingly submit to being consumed by larger ones, for reasons that aren’t wholly understood. Similarly sized specimens, however, will often cooperate with one another to procure food and defend each other. Whether or not this demonstrates a collective conscience is a matter of debate.

This isn’t the only mystery surrounding the Reptisaur species, however. The most curious aspect of the species as a whole was the discovery of their absolute largest representative, the barely living leviathan buried beneath the frost of Iceland known as Reptilicus (though some among the AMF insist on calling the creature “Scarysaurus”). It isn’t known how or why the creature grew so large compared to its diminutive brethren, though many wild theories abound. The prevailing idea is that Reptilicus is an “alpha” member of the species, an exceptionally ancient and powerful Reptisaur that through wit, strength, and sheer good luck managed to metamorphose into a proper kaiju over the course of millions of years. It is believed that every Reptisaur has the potential to become a new Reptilicus under exceptional circumstances but few ever do thanks to predation. This creature must have surely been a force to be reckoned with in its heyday, although by the time it was discovered it was barely clinging to life. The question still stands as to what could have possibly managed to cripple such a colossal creature, why it didn’t simply finish it off there and then, and more importantly, where such a being may have disappeared to….

———

[NOT] NEXT: Like Nothing You've Ever Seen Before!

———

As stated in the title this is a non-canonical fan entry (yes, I realize the recursive nature of a fanfic having its own fanfic) which was written by and I decided to illustrate it because he's a friend and it was definitely worthwhile to show to others (gives me a chance to redesign an out-of-context kaiju too). Note that this will (probably) be a one-time thing so don't expect this again anytime soon!

We will continue with our regularly scheduled program right after this.