Exiled for ever, let me mourn
There was a story that Saturn had once ruled the skies. In this place—beyond the end of the universe, beyond the haunting, disembodied voices that the people of Earth had long since become—Josh McClain could believe it, the vastness of the great planet illuminating what was left of the cosmos after the fall of everything.
Standing upon the surface of Rhea, the young man looked out upon the sky, the stars so very different from those he had known in childhood. Dressed in a simple black shirt and blue jeans, his black baseball boots worn with age, the clothes he wore seem oddly out of place, quaint reminders of the time he had lived in, the life that had been his before the collapse of everything.
He tried to steal himself against such thoughts. It wasn't that there had been any great disaster that had ended life in the cosmos, it was just… well, it was the way of things, the natural decline into decay. Once there had been life, now, as the universe was drawn closer to closer together, as the cosmos around him shrank, now there was nothingness.
"A penny for your thoughts, young man?"
The voice caught him off guard and he turned with more than a little surprise upon his face. Standing before him amidst the silence of Rhea stood a figure in dark armour, two weapons holstered at his side, a bright orange gun, the Virtua Stunner, on the right side, and the handle of a Virtua Stick on the left, his shoulders were decorated with gentle grey depictions the planet Saturn.
McClain smiled gently, still slightly ill-at-ease in the presence of his mentor.
"I was just thinking—" he stopped himself, trying to find the right words, "I was just thinking if there was another way."
From behind the other man's mask, his expression was impossible to read.
"Not now," he said sadly, "not now things have progressed this far. Had not the Destroyer become involved, then perhaps things would not have necessitated your involvement, but now time is askew and we cannot turn a blind eye to this."
McClain nodded, the frustration clear on his face. If things had been different, if they weren't so constrained—quickly he pushed the thought to the back of his mind; if things had been different, then he wouldn't be here where he was now, he wouldn't have been torn away as a child from his younger sister, Jennifer, and cast into the far future.
If things had been different, he never would have been apprenticed to Saturn himself.
He nodded sadly, already having known the answer before he had even voiced his doubts.
"When should I leave?"
Beneath the dark armour, his mentor seemed to shrug.
"When is irrelevant. Leave when you feel you are ready, Joshua; now, tomorrow, one year from now, a decade from now—it matters not, you will still arrive at the same point in the past regardless of when you depart this place."
"I guess so," he murmured, not fully convinced.
Saturn was silent, unreadable, waiting in silence, the colossal sight of the burning planet named after him in the distant sky over his head.
Sadly, he brought his right arm up, the smooth silver of the device bound to his wrist glittering with lights upon its display. He swallowed hard, and then, at last, said the words, more than a little sadness in his voice.
"It's morphin' time!"
The light above Saturn's head seemed suddenly to burn that much brighter.
"Cronus Power!"
x
Not good, Zackery Orion thought to himself, the heroes he had summoned dissipating like dust as Heuschrecke tore through all three of them. He needed to end this soon, he thought, otherwise this creature would end up eating him too, and, as much as he did not savour the thought of being consumed alive, he also felt a terrifying sense of anxiety when he imagined the old soldier in full possession of the powers he held.
Swiftly, yet lacking in confidence, Orion lifted his arm, flicked the card between his fingers and dropped his arm to his side, flashing the card before the belt at his waist, triggering the fateful summoning of his own armour.
Sensing the change in the atmosphere, Heuschrecke turned to regard him with contempt, blood and gore dripping from the open mouth of the mask he wore.
From within an adjacent realm, a dimension in which Orion's armour waited patiently to be summoned into existence by the man who had inherited it—the man destined to connect all, to destroy all—that magenta and black emerged shape, Dai-von Shockä's most prized weapon gone awry, wrapping itself about the boy in a flash of brilliant white light.
With a further flash, seven cards of light materialised and drove forward, lodging themselves into his helmet and bleeding a hue of red into the shoulders and gauntlets of the suit.
Before the armour had fully crystallised about him, he reached down once more, snapping a second card free from the belt and unlocking the device once more.
Orion moved his hands over the surface of the belt, palms splayed, the atmosphere about him charged with static energy.
'Count Ryusei!' the belt announced with pride and the armour around him shifted, transforming in a blur of colour into a second suit of red, overlaid with a silver breastplate and helm, the mask divided by a grid that obscured its swollen eyes.
Without pause, he launched himself forward and disappeared.
There was a blur of movement in the broken mirror inside the old warehouse and then Orion burst forward behind Heuschrecke, lashing out with his fists in two consecutive blows that sent the other's head reeling. And yet, swifter than any human, the beast was upon him in retaliation, his hands clawing at Orion's throat, attempting to choke the life out of him, the Ryusei armour fading, giving way once more to the original red and black design of his initial suit.
Tightening the grasp of his giant hands, his breath shallow and his eyes wild, the old soldier slowly began to crush Orion's windpipe, the metal yielding beneath the pressure he exerted.
"You'll regret that," he growled.
"I wouldn't count on it," the younger man answered with attempted disinterest, his voice strained.
Bursts of light exploded from the man's back, Orion holding out his gun at waist height, the barrel shoved against the monster's creased belly.
From his mouth, a fountain of gore erupted, the remnants of Aquila vomited forth and spattering in chunks against Orion's magenta armour.
Slowly but surely, Herr Heuschrecke's grasp began to lessen.
x
"Have you come to free me?" the boy demanded, and it seemed to Genki as if the cat somehow sensed its master's rage, for at the raising of his voice, it swiftly picked itself up from where it sat and disappeared off into an adjoining room, its tail swishing with displeasure.
"You know, I remember all this when it was just forests," the young girl said, her voice suddenly filled with a sudden enthusiasm.
"A forest you buried me beneath," Merlin Seno hastily replied, his tone full of displeasure.
Joan Smith shrugged.
"It was necessary," she answered.
"Necessary for whom?" Merlin retorted. "In whose best interests was it to imprison me in this tower?"
Joan smiled quietly.
"It's not a tower anymore," she remarked, "the number 43 bus runs just outside, you know."
Feeling as if he was being left behind, Tamashii Genki decided it was about high time someone explained to him what was going on.
"Hey," he interjected, "impartial observer here. Someone want to try explaining to me what the hell is happening?"
Joan waved at him dismissively.
"Merlin, this is a boy I met in a gravel pit; boy I met in a gravel pit, this is Merlin Seno, better known as Magus by some. A private detective of sorts and an amateur magician."
Genki felt his face flush red.
"Hey, kid, I have a name, you know."
Indifferent to Genki's protests, Merlin rounded on the young girl with contempt.
"I am far from amateur—"
"If you could both be quiet for a moment," Joan Smith said, her sudden gravitas silencing both men, "then I will explain to you both why I have brought you together."
She looked from one to the other, both Seno and Tamashii intimidated by the sudden shift in the child's tone.
"There is a boy I need you to find for me. He is in grave danger," she said, a slight tremble entering her voice. "In this world he must be no more than 10-years-old."
She looked from one to the other.
"His name is Joshua McClain."
x
Sparks flew, the knuckles of Senkai's gauntlet shattering as his fist met Kazama's own, pushing back with impossible force as the two armoured figures clashed, flames of spirit energy burning bright, marking them out like pyres upon the horizon.
Still bowed upon the grass, Kurogane Weiss looked down at his bloodied hands and fallen shotgun. In all his time in service of the Authoress, in all his time as caretaker of the realm, he had not lost, not like that; it was his duty to ensure the narrative ran clear, his duty to enforce those decisions made by his mistress—he could not allow such dead ends as these two to continue their derailing of the plot!
'I didn't expect this of you, Weiss,' a voice whispered in his ear, a presence at his shoulder.
His eyes widened, a tremble running through his body. He knew she wasn't there, he knew that it was impossible for her to be there, and yet still the touch of her mind inspired dread in him.
'I thought you were made of sterner stuff,' she chided him, her voice full of mock disappointment.
"Y-Your majesty," he stammered, "Your majesty, I won't fail you, I—"
'Perhaps I should chuse a new servant,' she continued to whisper in his ear, 'this Senkai child looks promising. Perhaps he would do a better job serving me.'
There was a pause, and Kurogane could sense rather than feel her smile.
'Or perhaps I should feed you to Heuschrecke, maybe?' She stopped, and again, rather than seeing it, he sensed her frown. 'Although he too seems to have failed me as of late. I'll need to fix that later.'
"Your majesty, I beg your forgiveness for causing you to doubt me," he said, throwing himself prostrate to the ground, face down upon the grass. "I promise I will not fail you further."
He listened for further reply, but none was forthcoming. From behind him, Kazama once more withdrew his lethal drumsticks, their tips bursting into flame as he cast a wave of flame out with a twist of his wrists.
x
"Hey, kid, you with us?" Genki asked, waving his hand in front of her face.
Joan blinked.
"Sorry," she said with a smile, "I was elsewhere."
She turned, looking from Genki to Merlin.
"This boy," she then continued, as if there had been no break in the conversation, "is key to this whole mystery, the misalignment of the planets, the disorientation that all who exist here suffer from."
Merlin raised a single eyebrow, his expression one of coldness.
"And how do you figure that?" he demanded.
"Because I can remember him," Joan insisted with an exasperated sigh. "There are three people I can recall from before I arrived here: Joshua McClain, Kurogane Weiss, and your good self, Merlin."
"Wait, if you didn't know you were coming here, how did you know your friend here would be here?" Genki asked, a look of confusion on his face.
Joan smiled goofily.
"Because the place in which I imprisoned Merlin is a crossroads, and all crossroads are bound to lead back to this place in at least one direction. It was in the rules of the compact when first I sealed him away."
"And the moment you let me free of this place, I promise to burn it down with phoenix flame," Merlin swore vehemently.
Genki looked apprehensively in his direction.
"Okayy," he said, drawing the word out. "So, what exactly is the beef between you two?"
"This evil spirit is a sorceress," Merlin remarked, glaring at Joan, "a witch who beguiles by taking on an unassuming form and swindles her allies out of their secrets."
Joan smiled patiently.
"Merlin is sour as he feels I have cheated him. I, however, bear him no ill-will."
"You're shameless," Merlin spat, "why don't you show your new friend your true face?"
The smile did not fade from the girl's lips.
"It's too early in the story for that," she answered, her words containing the hint of a threat.
There was silence between them, and Genki whistled softly, gently swaying his arms back and forth in a gesture that made him look uncommonly like a penguin.
"So," he said, "next question: who's this Kurogane Weiss guy?"
"A powerful foe," Joan said softly, "and the servant of an evil sorceress. He was once my most talented pupil… before he fell to darkness."
Merlin's gaze did not falter.
"And if we find this Joshua kid of yours, you'll set me free?"
Joan nodded.
"I will."
There was a long moment in which no one said nothing, and then finally Genki piped up:
"Hey, do I get anything out of this deal?"
"No," Joan and Merlin both said simultaneously, neither turning to look at him.
"Oh," he murmured, "cool, just as long as we've got that cleared up."
Another long moment of silence passed.
"Where do we start looking for this kid?" Merlin finally asked with a sigh.
x
The flesh blistered and burnt, the remnants of Heuschrecke shrivelling up and fading away in mere moments, a time-lapse video, the kind he had seen in science class in some school long ago. Zackery Orion had lost track of his normal life, the life he had had before accepting the responsibility of his powers, his armour.
That moment still felt like a dream to him, and, if he was honest, he had yet to fully come to trust in his ability as the Destroyer of Evil, because, after all, who in their right mind would want to trust a 19-year-old with the power to end reality?
It was a joke, he had told himself in those early days, it had to be a joke. And yet the longer things went on, the more and more he became convinced that the armour's original owner was never coming back and that it was just him, alone, forever.
But he was 19-years-old, for Christ's sake, how was he going to shoulder this for the rest of his life? Did this mean that he'd never get to live a normal life, that he'd always be moving between realities? Did this mean that he would never have a normal relationship, that he could never leave a normal life?
He ran a hand through his wild black hair and realised that his hand was trembling. In the shards of broken mirror, he caught sight of himself, his warm, tan complexion, his eyes wide, frightened by the recent confrontation, and, for the briefest moment, he did not recognise himself.
A sudden flare of blistering light shook him from his maudlin thoughts, a sound like the hammering of thunder in the heavens. He flinched, drawing his transformation card from his pocket once more as he became aware of a new presence on the horizon, the fog parting as a figure in a silver uniform rose from a crouch in the space he had landed, a white cape falling from his shoulders, the ground ruined at his feet.
Orion arched an eyebrow, taking in the sight of the other, the gold visor, the weighty staff he carried with him.
"Oh," he smirked, "and who are you supposed to be?"
Josh McClain straightened up, his cape moving in the gentle breeze.
"The man who is going to stop you from destroying this world," he said simply.
All of his doubt forgotten, Zackery Orion slid the card across the surface of the belt once more and smiled.
"I'd like to see you try," he remarked with spite.
x
At the last moment, Mashuto Senkai leant back, the fire cutting a path over his head, the heat oppressive against his silver and orange armour.
This was not how it should be, the young boy thought. When he had received the attaché case with the Illusion Fox and Mystic Dragon keys, he had—sudden understanding hit him even as he had righted himself. When he had received the attaché case from the gynoid, Atsumi, when he had been informed of his appointment as inheritor of the Fusion armour by Demonseed Innovators, he had been told something important.
—"The Fusion driver allows for a variety of combinations," she remarked, her hand gliding through the air to reveal a circular disk with the words 'Tutorial Mode Start' upon it. "Please familiarise yourself with the myriad combinations."
Senkai turned to look at her in disbelief, unable to understand how she could expect him to memorise such things, but she simply stood there, unblinking, her hands folded in her lap. He had heard that all those of her model were named after Honshu peninsulas, Chita, Miura, Izu, and so forth, and yet Atsumi seemed oddly cold even for a gynoid.
"I can't remember all this stuff," he protested.
"You can," she replied simply, "your mind now has the processing speed of an advanced AI, you will be able to react accordingly."
She stopped, as if a thought had suddenly occurred to her. Does that happen to robots, he asked himself.
"Unless this is a simulation," she stated flatly.
"What?" he frowned.
She gestured at the white space around him.
"This is a simulation," she stated. "Yet if this simulation is occurring within another simulation and this scenario is the imagining of a further advanced AI then you are at a disadvantage."
"What?!" he asked again.
"And if you have not aided in the development of said further hypothetical AI, you may find yourself punished."
"WHAT?!" he said a third time.
She blinked.
"Roko's basilisk, archived 23rd July, 2010, 12:30PM. Please consider this."—
A jolt brought him back from his reflection, Kazama's elbow smacking him in the face. If he was operating with the speed of a computer, then why wasn't he a match for Kazama? If this place was connected to the world he knew then why could he not read Kazama's attacks?
He had to try something new, he couldn't stay on the defensive like this. That little girl, that Joan Smith, had told him that if he was able to defeat the Crass Reaper, Kurogane, then he would not only learn the secret of this dead place but he would have earnt his way off it.
There had been other keys in the attaché case, all he needed to do was disengage and swap out Illusion Fox and Mystic Dragon for two of the others and then he would be able to get the drop on Kazama. But the satellite—
—"Whilst using the Fusion driver, you will have the advantage of both armour transferred from the Demonseed satellite as well as the data stored within the keys. Should you find yourself out of range—"
"Yeah, but really, how likely is it that I'm going to be out of range of the satellite? It's a satellite, right? It can reach anywhere in the world. I'm not going to need to remember this."
"Should you find yourself out of range of the satellite," Atsumi continued, her eyes unblinking, "then you will be able to operate in offline mode, using the data in the keys alone. Please consider this when going forward."—
Idiot, he cursed himself, teeth grinding beneath the mask. Why had he not remembered this? Why had it taken him this long to recall Atsumi's words? He'd have to apologise to her later, he thought, once he got Kazama out of his way and finally got some answers out of this Kurogane dude.
He thought again of that little girl and her advice. There was no way a kid would lie to him, surely? It didn't matter, soon enough he was going to find out! He had the other keys, now all he needed to do was—
Too late, he heard Kazama's friend, Punk Rocket, as he shouted out in alarm.
Senkai blinked, and then he saw him, Kurogane Weiss, standing suddenly directly behind Kazama. There was a long moment in which he held the Crass Reaper's gaze, and then, abruptly, the shotgun roared once more and Kazama's waist opened up in an explosive flower, shards of bone and innards splashing over Senkai's armour as his foe was bisected by the tremendous blast.
In the distance, he could hear Punk Rocket shouting again, but all he could focus on now was the ominous figure of Kurogane Weiss as he reloaded his shotgun.
x
It was warm, the scent of summer still lingering, the memory of someone he once was. In shrill voices, he heard the cicadas crying, calling out to one another in loneliness, and he lifted his head, staring at his reflection in the broken mirror.
How long had it been, a year, maybe more? Time moved strangely here, he reflected, this dead world at the end of everything. He remembered the howl of the guns, the ceaseless bombardments, night after night, and he remembered the chill of the dead forests as he made his way from the trenches across France in search of von Shockä and his minions, but beyond that, his mind was a blank,
Surely there had to be others in this place, surely he could not be alone, surely—there was a sudden sound like the hammering of thunder in the heavens, and he trembled, flinching, the sound so deafening that it was louder than any howitzer he had ever known.
Snatching up his greatcoat, he turned away from the broken mirror and faced the entrance of the desolate warehouse seeing two men he had never before met highlighted in the light that poured through the doorway. A sudden thrill ran through him, almost as if some forgotten memory was once more on the edge of his recollection, and yet, as soon as he became aware of it, it was once more gone. What he did know, however, that these two men were his enemies, as dangerous as any monster he had faced in the fields and trenches—Spinne-Mann, Fledermaus-Mann, Skorpion-Mann.
With resignation, he nodded sadly, lowering his arms, crossing them at his waist.
"Henshin," he said quietly.
Beneath the rags of his clothes, pale flesh began to bubble and erupt in sores.
A/N: Genki Tamashii created by Rider09 ~ u/1938693
Punk Rocket and Ryunosuke "Ryan" Kazama created by Kamen Rider Chrome ~ u/676659
Zackery Masayoshi Orion created by Lewamus Prime 2019 ~ u/6878339
Merlin Seno created by Timelordkid ~ u/4006703
Mashuto Senkai created by Kamen Rider Yokai ~ u/4133255
Josh McClain created by dannyrockon122 ~ u/5185539
Count Ryusei created by Rai
