Snap.
The figure curled under the blankets dissolved like a soap bubble. The bedside lamp clicked on, and Bella was leaning against the wall, mid-yawn.
"Sweetheart, you're bored, aren't you? How old are you exactly? Still pulling tricks like a little kid—"
She could barely keep her eyes open.
She was talking to empty air, and the empty air said nothing back.
Bella pointed at her own nose. "Scent. You know what that means? We know each other too well. I can pick you out."
"...Is that an ability too?" Natasha's voice materialized somewhere in the room, clearly irritated. A moment later, she tapped her left shoulder. The optical camouflage rippled outward like disturbed water, and Natasha emerged wearing a white tactical suit.
"Impressive." Bella studied it. "Better than that optical scientist's prototype by a long shot. Someone put serious upgrades into this."
If Bella hadn't known Natasha's scent so well—if her enhanced sixth sense hadn't flagged that faint wrongness—she genuinely might not have caught her.
Honestly? Bella liked the suit. Marvel's female heroes tended to look good, but their combat outfits were another story—coverage was often minimal. Tactical functionality felt secondary at best.
This one was different. Head to toe, not an inch exposed, fingertips included.
She circled Natasha twice for a full inspection.
"You're being insufferable," Natasha said flatly. She reached into the suit and tossed a USB drive at Bella. "Here. What you asked for." Then she peeled the tactical suit off without ceremony.
They'd been casual around each other enough times that neither bothered with formality. Natasha walked to the bathroom, and Bella settled at the laptop.
Thirty minutes later, Natasha returned wrapped in a towel. Bella was already deep into the files.
Monarch.
Without Natasha's investigation, Bella would never have known the scale of the organization behind the researcher who'd tried to recruit her.
Monarch had no profit-driven ventures. No commercial products, no merchandise—not so much as a Godzilla figurine, though God knows they had the brand recognition for it. The organization answered to multi-national oversight committees and submitted regular written reports to the defense councils of multiple major powers. Restrictions were significant—but so was their reach. They operated anywhere in the world. And they were very, very well-funded.
Since the Truman administration, Monarch had been receiving U.S. military backing. Japan, Canada, Australia, the United Kingdom—a long list of developed nations had joined the funding pool since then.
Alec Trevelyan had burned through his personal savings funding Ben Gates' Arctic archaeological excavation and then had to take on black-market work for Bella just to cover the costs—and that was for a historically-documented shipwreck recovery, relatively straightforward as these things went.
Monarch was conducting systematic searches across the world's major oceans, Antarctica, and the Arctic for signs of deep-sea megafauna. And once they found something? No one outside the inner circle seemed to know. For now, the mission was simply: find.
Desolate islands, tropical rainforests, polar extremities, uncharted wilderness—all of it, methodically combed. No ordinary organization or private backer could sustain that kind of operation. It needed a coalition of nations just to keep the lights on.
It's Godzilla.
Bella stared at the photo on the drive.
A dorsal fin rose from the ocean's surface like a mountain ridge. Beneath it, an enormous shadow stretched deep into the dark water.
"The Tokyo research institute has strict classification levels," Natasha said, toweling her hair dry. "I couldn't access most of it. Just enough surface material."
"That's fine. I don't need more." Bella only needed the name. As for what Monarch was actually researching—she probably already knew more than most of their regular staff.
Natasha mirrored her posture and settled cross-legged on the bed. Shoulder to shoulder, they looked at the screen together.
"Do you think... are they still here? On Earth right now?"
"Yes." Bella answered without hesitation—and felt a quiet unease settle in her chest.
Godzilla was good, in his way—a protector. That much seemed reliable. But a creature that size fighting in a city? The actual casualty numbers would dwarf anything the films showed.
She thought of Godzilla: King of the Monsters. The female lead's son had died in one of those battles—quiet, unremarkable, entirely without meaning. That senseless loss was what had broken the mother and sent her down a dark path.
Against a conflict at that scale, human beings were simply fragile.
For a moment, her thinking aligned with the American military's: find them and eliminate every single one.
Then the impulse passed. Unrealistic. Godzilla alone was beyond her reach. Her ice storms would barely register against a creature that fed on nuclear fuel. The Ancient One could knock the Hulk's soul loose from his body—could she do the same to something over a hundred meters tall?
Transformers couldn't even compete at that scale. Optimus Prime stood around nine meters. Godzilla cleared a hundred. The gap was obscene.
Turn the monsters against each other. That was the only angle she could work. Maybe the golden apple—see if she could establish mental control over one of them. If not, she'd figure something else out.
"You're worried." Natasha pressed her lips against the shell of Bella's ear.
"Aren't you?" Bella pointed at the screen. Rare uncertainty threaded through her voice. "Something this size goes to war in a populated city—the numbers will be catastrophic. That could be you. That could be me. Charlie, Samantha. Even our sister who hasn't even been born yet."
Natasha was quiet for a moment. When she spoke again, she was unusually serious. "But... Monarch hasn't found anything confirmed. Do you think they already have?"
Bella nodded. "I think they have most of the picture. Otherwise no government would be pouring resources into this."
Natasha hadn't yet developed the full strategic perspective Bella carried, but thinking it through now, she could see the shape of it.
"If the military can't handle it, we run," she said. "Worst case, we all emigrate to Russia."
Bella considered it. "Not quite. I'll find a way to get inside Monarch and keep watch. If something's about to go wrong, there should be warning signs. At least we can get ahead of it."
"Works for me."
"Bei—" Yinglong shuffled into the room with the TV remote dangling from one claw, swaying as she walked. "Can you buy a couple more DVDs tomorrow? I've almost watched everything I—"
She noticed the room wasn't empty.
Yinglong immediately coiled into herself and tried to impersonate a snake.
Natasha's eyes went wide. She looked at Bella. She looked at Yinglong.
Unbelievable. Bella buried her face in her hands. Now she understood exactly how Madame Gao had managed to trick Yinglong all those years ago. The dragon's threat awareness was essentially nonexistent.