Across the enormous, infinite honeycomb that is the multiverse, many things hide from our eyes... Uncomprenhensible entities that have purposefully hidden away from us, perhaps in their wisdom... Or their arrogance.

Sometimes, they're benevolent beings. Kind, and wide, who guide human kind in their infinite compassion, towards a better world. Others, though... Are vile, rotten to the core.

These entities guide mortals towards their jaws, like a shark in the middle of a void. Always the same bait. Unfullfilled desires, promises of money and success, power and beauty... It's all a game, in the end.

This one, though... Is different. It doesn't care about us. It doesn't care enough to even trick us. All it wants... Is feeding.

In an alternate dimension, it's been a few years since the Battle of Tokyo, that left thousands wounded, and hundreds of dead. The JSDF had barely managed to push back against a supernatural creature, that had risen from the sea, covered in red dust, walking like a zombie.

They called him many names. Shiva, the God of Destruction. A Singular Point. The Archetype... Godzilla.

Very little is known about him, and those creatures, called "Kaiju" by the media, that had arrived days prior, as if proclaiming, announcing his arrival, like some kind of prophets to their wicked Messiah...

But he's far from beaten. And "he"... No... That "It" has found another way to invade worlds. And yours is next...

It's a peaceful day in your dimension. Birds are chirping. The trees of the forest whistle with the wind. The Moon looms over your place, and as you rest, you start soon falling into slumber...

Thag night, though... Things start changing.

Suddenly, you wake up, in the middle of absolute nothingness. In front of you, lays a forest. But it's not the one you know. No, this place is... Different. Dark. Suffocating. Unnatural.

It feels wrong, and something tells you this shouldn't be happening.

And then... The Red Dust appears. It spreads quickly, like a plague, and then... You hear "its" voice. Damning. Condescending. It's not really a physical voice... More like an inner monologue in your head. One full of mockery, hatred and... Hunger.

... Mortal...