AN: I love Kamen Rider Decade to death and all, but I always notice the little plot holes that occur. I ruminate over them and in the end, I come up with a rip off of the original that is tweaked to my own personal tastes. It's not very creative, but it's really more of a personal indulgence than a serious writing project.
Disclaimer: I dream of writing my own Kamen Rider series, and I can dream all I want, isn't that wonderful?
Spoilers: Um, I'm taking liberties. Let's just say that every single heisei era Kamen Rider series is vulnerable to spoil-age.
Warnings: ...and this is turning out to be somewhat gross. I don't expect this to be a constant, the gross factor in this prologue just sort of...happened. Tell me if the rating isn't appropriate.
Synthetic
All places have people of ambition who have little qualms with doing whatever it takes to get what they want, so it only follows the natural order of all things that every world should have its own guardian. The Rider is a fascinating phenomenon that has an explanation that varies from world to world, but still manages to remain consistent in all the ways that don't scientifically matter.
The appearances and the nature of each one vary, ranging from mystical armor, genetic mutation, and technological gadgets of various origins, but the underlying characteristics remain similar. Each centers on a belt, each is a defender of mankind for their respective world. Each is like a vaccine against Dai-Shocker. They evolve, spread their influence, and seem to possess all of the qualities necessary to keep each and every one of Dai-Shocker's movements at bay.
None of the other members of Dai-Shocker have ever succeeded in exterminating the Rider that resides in their world. This only serves to exacerbate their abhorrence of the odd pseudo-race of masked guardians.
He doesn't stoop to such base levels; hatred is a petty emotion that he has never felt, only observed, and he's always taken note of the decrease in intellect and logical reasoning skills whenever one succumbs to the oddly destructive emotional affliction.
He doesn't have a name anymore; he's long since forgotten it in favor of filling his brain with research materials and the data he's collected from his specimens. The other individuals that lead Dai-Shocker gravitate to him and respect him. They call him the Doctor; he has never told them otherwise. The moniker suits him well enough.
Unlike the others, the Doctor's world doesn't have a Rider in it anymore, or rather; his world's Rider is in the Doctor's underground laboratory.
The Doctor recalls the Rider that had fought against him in his world, and he also remembers carefully dissecting the man beneath the armor and the mask.
Organs, skin, fingernails, hair, an eye, teeth, muscle, bone, everything has been painstakingly sampled, and preserved for further examination. The Doctor left the main body intact, for the most part. Skin and muscle have been peeled back carefully to expose the rib cage that has been opened up for access to the chest cavity.
He has been careful not to damage the central nervous system, and the peripheral nervous system is mainly intact. Above all, he took great pains to leave the right half of his specimen's face untouched. He deconstructed the left side, removing a section of the skull, taking tissue samples of the gray and white matter within, but he left the right side of the face alone.
The specimen lies within the Doctor's observation tank, suspended in preservative fluids, veins pumped with chemicals of similar, yet more delicate composition for the exact same purposes. All of the biological faculties of the specimen still function, it still breathes, its heart still beats, blood still flows. It meets all of the specifications that classify it as still being alive.
The Doctor has found himself talking to it on more than one occasion, finding it a pity that the specimen can no longer respond. Brain activity remains at a constant level of inactivity.
His specimen had put up a valiant fight while it had still been able. The Doctor likes to remember the times they shared together, so even when he no longer needs to take samples or research the internal workings of the young man that had used to stand and fight against him, in spite of the futility of it all, the Doctor kept him within his main observation tank, perhaps so that he could gaze upon the face, and reminisce.
In his own way, the Doctor has always considered this Rider, this young man, to be one of the most beautiful existences within the universe.
No assistants are allowed in the Doctor's main work room, which really is for the best. He has delicate equipment in here, and the last subordinate that was assigned to organize his older files saw the Doctor's favorite specimen and retched all over his documents detailing the measurements of internal core activity in the eleventh, potential, Rider planet.
As was expected, the pathetic creature became the recipient of the Doctor's next project. Waste no want not, the quivering man had actually turned out to be an interesting test subject, but it ultimately failed to produce anything useful. The whimpering man's bones hadn't been able to take the pressure of the more concentrated infusions of nano machines, and had shattered.
The Doctor set aside a note, reminding himself to inform those in charge of new recruits that their standards were slipping. Dai-Shocker didn't need such fragile weaklings under its command.
The other members of Dai-Shocker don't make it a habit to frequent the Doctor's department of assorted sciences. This suits him fine, he prefers the solitude, and he supposes his fellow conquerors of worlds have realized this. It's kind of them to be so considerate.
The Doctor looks up at his favorite specimen and smiles. He's conducted all of the tests, taken all of the samples, explored every facet of the specimen's anatomy. He can finally set his project into motion and begin work.
This young man always has been his inspiration. It's only natural that the Doctor's true masterpiece shall reflect it.