Chapter 1: Savior From Beyond

June 16th, 2009, 10:30 AM – the Legarda LRT Station was jam-packed with people of every imaginable background: workers ready for another day, teachers and students on their way to class… There was hardly any room to breathe. See, they were all rushing, especially the students – no one wanted to be late on the first day of class, right?

Of particular note was a young, uniformed, petite-framed girl with sweeping black hair, bumping into people as she ran frantically; she was less than 5 minutes away from being late! She didn't normally care about being on time, but the first day of the school year was… special. It helped make a good impression on her professors, not to mention allowed her to make a bit of advance scouting on which classes she'd need to exert extra effort in.

"Ah!" she gave a small scream as she bumped into someone, falling on her bum. She got up, dusting the rear of her skirt as she looked at who it was: a 30ish, bejeweled woman in a purple dress. "Sorry, ma'am," stammered the girl. "I was in a bit of a hurry, that's all –"

The woman seemed not to hear. "Young lady," she said in a foreboding tone as she beckoned her to come closer. "Might this old lady give you a small piece of advice?"

The girl was bewildered; why would this woman, a complete stranger, be interested in her? It wasn't that she was particularly alarmed. The elderly woman didn't look too threatening, and she herself had no idea what the old lady could do to her. "Err… ok?" she asked, blankly. "What is it, ma'am?"

"Take care of yourself this year, child," the old crone warned, "This next school year will be like nothing you've experienced. The faces of your sweetest dreams shall appear to you very soon... Unfortunately, so will those of your nightmares."

"Hey, what?" asked the young woman, blinking rapidly. Most of those words just went way over her head. "I don't understand."

"Steel yourself, young one," the old lady's voice had dropped to barely a whisper now, yet with a commanding note that took the girl quite aback. "When you march forth to meet it, the future knows no bounds."

She blinked again, only to find that the crone had somehow disappeared. With a shrug, she continued to school, now running faster than ever. That little run in cost her valuable time; now she really WAS late. Adding insult to injury was the fact that it wasn't even that early in the morning, giving her no excuse whatsoever. Until now, she had always arrived early on the first day of school; for her to be late for the first time ever was unacceptable! Besides, she didn't want to draw attention to herself by coming in while a professor was in the middle of his first-day orientation. Of all things to hold her up, it had to be some old hag spouting off cryptic warnings...

Dammit, it's all her fault!

At the same time, though, she couldn't help but wonder what the woman meant by what she said. It might just have been random advice, but then why would the old crone, a complete stranger to her, bother her with it? Something was gonna happen... But how would she have known that? The advice sounded a lot like the ramblings of an old lady, but the girl decided to watch herself, just in case.

Before long, she was running up the stairs to their classroom on the 2nd floor. 12A, 12B… Here we are.

Silently, she opened the door, and slipped inside. The professor, who had been writing down his grading system on the board, turned to look at her, as did her classmates. "Rianne… delos Reyes, sir," she panted, clutching the teacher's table for support. "S-Sorry I'm late…"

To her relief, the old man smiled. "You're lucky it's the first day," he said, marking her name on the class register. "Have a seat," he added, observing how her breath came in short, labored gasps. Rianne happily complied.

Later that night, after classes were over, she and her circle of friends sat in one of the fastfood chains just outside school. It was group tradition: on the first day of the school year, since their high school days, they would eat lunch in this particular place. And of course, after their meal would come the mandatory exchange of information – in short, gossip. It was, as they say, a girl thing.

"So, tell us, Rianne," began one of her friends, a slim, pigtailed girl named Jenna. "How come you were late today? It's a first, right, girls?" she looked around at the rest of them, who nodded their assent.

Rianne obliged. She told them about the strange woman and her pronouncement of the things that lay ahead, 'like nothing they've ever experienced', expecting them to fall over laughing at the absurdity of it. Instead, though, they looked at each other with their mouths hanging open. "What?" she asked. "What's gotten into you guys?"

"Well… come to think of it," recalled Emily, the bespectacled girl next to her, "'He' died this month a year ago, and since you both were close..." she continued, uneasy; the two other girls shot her a warning look. "I – Forget about it, Rianne, sorry…"

She didn't answer; she knew who 'he' was. Up until last year, there had been a boy in their group, a friend of hers who had recently confessed his attraction to her. At that time, though, Rianne hadn't yet been ready for a relationship, so she said nothing. Unfortunately, the boy took her silence as outright rejection and, after two weeks of heavy drinking, ended up getting run over as he crossed the street. The thought caused tears to well up in her eyes.

"Sorry, Rianne!" repeated Emily, alarmed. "Forgive me… I forgot how close you two were," she muttered. Truth was, all four of them were shook up by his death; the three of them, Jenna, Emily and Kathy, had been his confidants.

A few minutes passed and the girls were walking along a deserted street, on the way to Emily's place; she was lucky enough to live near school. They chatted about pretty much everything as they walked: from what each of them had been doing over the summer to their respective love lives (which, understandably, Rianne took no part in). Finally, talk turned to the class schedule given to them.

"In a word, fucked up," observed Kathy bitterly, who until that moment had been silent. "No, wait, that's two!" she added a moment later, realizing her mistake, which they all laughed at. She looked up at that point and tugged Rianne's arm. "Look."

It was a group of drunkards, sitting at a table just before the bridge they were to cross on the way to Emily's house. Upon sight of the girls, they roared and hooted raucously, waving empty beer bottles in the air; fear was written in the lines of their bodies, especially Emily. Of all the times and places, she thought, horrified.

"Well, lookie here, fellas," one of the drunks yelled to his mates. "Whaddya say we invite these ladies for a drink or so?" They chuckled evilly as they stood up and approached the girls, who backed away in horror. "You girls won't mind a drink… right?"

At that moment, though, a cloaked figure could be seen approaching, head bowed and hands in pockets. He walked past the girls and faced the drunkards, who started shouting in anger. "Who the hell are you!" their leader demanded of the stranger. "Can't you see we're busy here!"

The figure shed his cloak; underneath, he was clad in a dark gray hoody and faded jeans, with a mysterious silver belt around his waist. His hair was shoulder-length, shaggy but clearly well-taken care of, while most of his face was hidden behind a blank, black mask. All they could see of it was his left eye, dark and smoky, glaring at them with deepest loathing. "My teacher once told me," he said, addressing the drunks,

"A muse gives one's life meaning, while her smiles inspire his. Thus she must be defended at all costs."

What…? Thought Rianne as she heard that line. Someone else she knew had once said a variation of it before, referring to her as the 'muse'. But – it couldn't be -

At that moment, though, a red, beetle-like creature the size of a computer mouse flew to him and slid itself across his belt. "Henshin!"

"HENSHIN."

Rianne's eyes widened as the young man faded from view, replaced by a figure clad in bulky silver armor. He then clutched the beetle's horn and pulled it gently forward; his armor jutted out in certain places. "Best keep your distance, ladies," warned the enigma without looking at them; even the drunks backed away, clearly not knowing how to react to this new arrival. "Cast Off."

"CAST OFF – CHANGE BEETLE!"

There was a sound like a cannon blast as pieces of his armor flew off, revealing a sleeker red armor underneath. His face was hidden behind blue eyes and a large horn, akin to a beetle's, could clearly be seen on his head. He slapped a pad on the right side of his belt, then disappeared from view; next moment, the drunkards all seemed to simultaneously drop dead. He then reappeared right in front of the girls.

"T-Thanks," murmured Rianne, whose awe at their rescuer was clearly written in her face. "Who… are you?"

The man in the armor turned to look at Rianne, who stepped backward out of intimidation; she wondered whether she had inadvertently offended the man, as she couldn't read his expression underneath his mask. It was only natural that she was shocked at this unexpected development – being saved by someone they hardly knew – but still… She was worried. It wasn't right to offend someone who just saved them from being raped, right?

After a few seconds, though, he answered her question. "I'm… someone from beyond. I can't sleep in a coffin with this vermin running around." He jerked his head at the bodies of the drunkards he had just killed.

"But," Rianne ventured once more, "What should we call you?"

The man hesitated for a few moments before giving her his answer - which, to their disappointment, was hardly one at all. "…"

He turned back to where the drunkards had been. They were nowhere to be found, having been replaced by green, insectlike humanoids. They then walked toward him, obviously eager for revenge. He held the dagger in his right hand in a tight grip, waiting for the monsters to make a move.

When they just stood there, he charged, brandishing his blade.

tbc