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"It's about time you all got here," said the young girl on the path, tapping her watch with a finger, straight dark hair, her eyebrows slightly unkempt, a small white button badge with a question mark appended to the right strap of her pinafore.

Zackery Orion and Josh McClain exchanged glances, Heuschrecke remaining hesitantly behind them, his greatcoat moving in the wind, his bandages changed and his wounds healing.

"You're late, you know," the girl said, no older surely than 13 or 14 at best, and yet the aura that emanated from her presence was impossible, a presence like no other living thing.

Orion's lips twisted in a sneer.

"And who the hell are you, kid?" he demanded.

With a look of distaste, Joan Smith lifted her wrist and tapped her watch again, an image of the solar system flickering into view in front of them, ten planets rotating in three dimensions.

"A traveller, just like you, Zackery," she remarked.

"How do you know my name?" he demanded.

Her gaze was steely and cold.

"I know your name because you've made my life incredibly difficult. I know all of your names," she turned and glared at each of them in turn, "but you are one of the ones I wasn't expecting here."

Orion shook his head with impatience.

"Kid, you better explain what the hell you're talking about or I'm going to get mad."

A dark expression crossed the child's face, and, for a moment, it seemed as if she was someone else, another child, an endless array of children, boys and girls, all with the same terrible expression.

"No, Zackery, you're not the one who will be getting mad," she said with a growl.

Orion rolled his eyes and reached down for his belt.

"That does it, I'm putting a stop to this."

"Zack, wait!" Josh cried out, reaching out for his new ally. "She's just a kid!"

Too late, Zackery Orion turned the card between his fingers and dropped his arm to his side, flashing it before the belt at his waist, triggering the fateful summoning of his own armour—and then something dreadful happened, a terrible aura rising up from the nothingness from whence his armour should have emerged, wrapping about his body, eating away at him as he struggled against it.

For a moment, Joan Smith's hair appeared ash white.

"I warned you, boy," she growled. "You try my patience. I have had enough of your meddling."

The darkness constrained and consumed him, cards spilling out from his belt and falling to the ground as the shadows ate him alive, carrying back to wherever it was that he had come from.

A long moment passed, and save for the discarded cards of his deck, there was nothing left of the Destroyer of worlds, nothing but the recollection of who he had once been.

"There," Joan smiled with satisfaction, turning her attention to Josh and Heuschrecke. "Now we can settle things and give this story the ending it deserves."

x

"So," Genki said, carrying the little girl in his arms, "what does this Zackery Orion dude look like, then?"

Jennifer McClain looked troubled.

"He's pretending to be my brother," she said.

A frown crossed Genki's face.

"He's pretending to be a kid?"

Jennifer shook her head.

"No, he's pretending to be a grown-up version of Josh." Tears formed in her eyes and her words faltered. "I-If he had lived, I mean."

"Bastard," Merlin growled, tightening his fists.

"Why would he do such a thing?" Genki asked, genuine hurt apparent on his face.

"He calls himself the Destroyer," Jennifer said, "he says he's going to end this world."

"We won't allow that," Merlin assured her, "trust me, whatever has happened here, we won't allow anyone, especially not this Orion or even Nimue to hurt the people who rest here."

But that was the problem, Genki thought quietly to himself; they hadn't seen any other people.

"This place," he murmured.

"The Isle of Apples," Merlin murmured, "a resting place for the great, called Valhalla by some."

"That kid, Joan Smith, is she the guardian of this place?"

Merlin nodded.

"Nimue rules this realm, yes."

A frown crossed Genki's face as they walked through the wasteland, the fog all but smothering them.

"But she said she didn't know where this place was, said that the planets were all out of whack or whatever and that something was wrong here."

Merlin scowled with displeasure.

"It's a game," he growled. "I am not sure what her reasons are, yet, to me at least, it is clear that this place is the same place where I was imprisoned originally. This isn't freedom I have been granted, it's simply a bigger gaol. Surely you must realise that now, having encountered that crocodile kajin and its hideous minions?"

Doubt remained on Genki's face.

"But why would she lie to us? What has she got to gain from it?" he asked.

"Who knows what goes on in her mind," Merlin said with exasperation. "Yet it seems clear to me that she has somehow manipulated the situation here, that she has brought this Zackery Orion here to taunt us. Whatever happens, we cannot let her have her way."

Around them, the fog seemed to clear, revealing more of the wasteland, its vast vista of emptiness, gravel pits and abandoned industrial areas. If there were heroes here, Genki thought, what sort of punishment must it be to inter them in a place like this?

Slowly, ahead of them, the fog continued to draw back, revealing a field of green grass and three distinct forms.

x

Panting, Mashuto Senkai dropped to his knees, trying to catch a breath, feeling the autumnal breeze of the dead world upon his face for the first time since his arrival. Turning his attention from the armoured form of Kazama/Rocket, resplendent somehow in their battered and dirty armour, to the new figure shrouded in immaculate white, he tried to understand what had happened.

The question must had been evident on his face as the masked rider offered a hand to him, pulling him up to his feet.

"Your keys were poisoned," he advised, "no doubt by the Authoress herself. I have purified them. I suggest you have your belt run a scan of what remains and see to it that you are not consumed by evil forces once more."

Senkai looked at him with a frown.

"Wait, you're the guy who was trying to kill us, right?"

"My name is Kurogane, yes," the other nodded seriously.

"Aren't you going to get in trouble with your mistress for helping us?" he asked.

There was silence as Kurogane Weiss looked away.

"I have defected," he said quietly.

"Good," Kazama/Rocket said, "that means we can work together to get out of here."

Kurogane regarded both men, his expression unreadable behind his white mask.

"You two may leave whenever you want. You were not…" His words trailed off. "You were not invited here by the Authoress; this place has no claim over you."

Senkai eyed him dubiously.

"And what about you?" he asked.

"I was drawn to this place by the Authoress's remit, by the terms of her pact with Death. I remember this now."

"Wait, what?" Senkai demanded.

Kurogane nodded, shedding his new armour, revealing his troubled expression.

"With Death, yes," he answered. "The Authoress is a terrible sorceress, one capable of bargaining and bartering with Death itself. In the oldest days, before the first gods and heroes had fallen, when Saturn still served as the sun, the Authoress challenged Death to a game and won, gaining dominion over this place, called the Isle of Apples by some, Avalon by others."

"What game did they play?" Kazama/Rocket asked, likewise disengaging their armour.

Kurogane Weiss looked troubled.

"Space Invaders," he said quietly.

"What?!" Senkai all but screeched.

Kurogane nodded.

"Before time had settled into a linear pattern, Death and the Authoress played Space Invaders to decide the fate of this realm. The Authoress won, achieving a higher score, and Death was thus bound to give her control over this place as long as she remained her also and paid Death their due."

Senkai shook his head.

"That's absurd, man," he said with incredulity. "That's absolutely absurd."

"It is the way of things," Kurogane answered. "Yet now she is troubled for Death has cheated her, opening doorways in her realm for the living, manipulating old Saturn to send forth his champion."

There was silence amongst the group for a moment.

"So how do we defeat a being that plays games with Death?" Kazama/Rocket asked.

Kurogane shook his head.

"You can't," he answered simply. "You need to leave this place. This isn't your fight."

Mashuto Senkai grinned, his entire face lighting up at this.

"I've never turned my back on a fair fight," he smiled.

"Idiot," Kurogane growled, "this isn't a fair fight. The Authoress controls this realm; she can just as easily imagine you out of existence as she can poison your armour and turn it against you or send her Royal Guard to hunt you down. All you are doing by remaining here is putting yourself in danger."

"Wait, who are this Royal Guard and why haven't we seen them yet?" Senkai asked.

"You will," Kurogane growled. "They are her servants. They were… they were my friends."

"All the more reason why we can't leave you here to fight her yourself," Kazama/Rocket protested.

"You can contribute nothing," Kurogane advised, slinging his shotgun over his shoulder and turning away, "she has already made a mistake by allowing me to regain my recollection, my true armour. Your work here is done. You can do nothing more."

He looked into the fog back to where his motorbike was parked, and, in the distance, he saw two figures emerging, one of them carrying a child in his arms.

Instinctively, both Kurogane and Kazama/Rocket reached for their belts.

x

"Take the cards," she smiled, watching as he gazed down at the only thing that remained of Zackery Orion. "See what happens."

Josh McClain hesitated, consumed with doubt. It wasn't that he had especially liked Orion, but in the short time he had known him, he had learnt to respect him—and now he was gone, swallowed up by whatever void this child had summoned, cost out to who knew where.

"You can't do this," Heuschrecke growled, tensing himself, his arms crossed at his waist, "I won't let you do this!"

Joan Smith turned sharply to regard him.

"Hmm, one never quite likes to be confronted by one's failures."

She snapped her fingers, and, without willing it, the armour burst from the man's belt, swallowing him as surely as the darkness had consumed Orion.

From within the writhing mass of flesh, Josh could hear the other man screaming, crying out in horror as his own armour devoured him, turning inwards and eating him alive. He glanced down at the scattered cards at his feet.

Joan smiled.

"Do it," she said, "take the cards and transform, assume your place at my side."

"L-Let him go," Josh stammered. "You let him go first, then I'll do what you say."

The young girl arched an eyebrow.

"Why?" she asked. "He won't thank me for it."

Josh's face turned pale, bile rising in his throat.

"What do you think is happening in there?" she asked. "And what do you think will happen if I command it to stop? How will you save your comrade when he's been half eaten?"

Heuschrecke's screams continued to fill the air, echoing through the emptiness of the realm, until, after a while, they were joined by another sound, the sound of bones breaking, of flesh dissolving, and, slowly, the shape of the man began to collapse inwards, folding into itself until it abruptly lost shape and sank into the dirt with a sickening thud, decaying with such terrible speed that soon there was nothing left to remind Josh that it had ever once been a man.

In the space of moments, Josh McClain had lost two comrades.

"Pick up the cards," Joan commanded and then yawned, "I'm growing tired of telling you what to do, Josh, really I am."

Hesitantly, he crouched down, gathering Orion's cards up from the darkness that had been left by his sudden removal from the realm. With trembling hands, he turned over the first card in the scattered collection and looked down upon the depiction of a familiar armour, two weapons holstered at his side, a bright orange gun on the right side and the handle of a Virtua Stick on the left, his shoulders decorated with gentle grey depictions the planet Saturn.

Seemingly, as if sensing his presence, the card transformed into a boxy cartridge, the width of which might easily fit into the slot that ran along the side of the transformation bracer worn upon his wrist.

Joan Smith grinned darkly.

"You know what to do, Josh. I suspect you've always known," she purred.

And he had, even when he had been there on Rhea, in the future, he had known there was a reason the other man, the man who had raised from a boy, had never removed his armour.

"Do it," she whispered.

He swallowed hard, and then, with trembling hands, he slid the remainder of the cards into his back pocket and gingerly brought the cartridge up to his bracer, pushing back the opening and gently inserting it within.

There was a flash of light and Joshua McClain was changed forever.

x

Through the fog, they saw three figures standing stoic on the grass—a man in immaculate white armour, swollen eyes protruding from the helm like some ancient, unknowable creature from the depths of some sickly ocean, a boy in his mid-20s, dressed in loose trowsers and black dress shoes, his eyes a curious shade of orange, and, at last, a third man in a tired leather jacket and worn boots, helm decorated with the Union flag, chains hanging loose from the jacket.

"Looks like they laid on a welcoming party," Merlin said with displeasure, pushing back the folds of his jacket to reveal the belt buckle once more.

"Any of these guys look familiar to you, Jennifer?" Genki asked with apprehension.

She nodded and sniffled.

"T-They're the servants of the man pretending to be my brother, his Royal Guard, he calls them," she said meekly, her voice small and full of doubt.

Genki felt his heart breaking in his chest.

Who would do this, he thought; who would do this to a little kid?

Merlin Seno slipped a ring upon his finger and passed his hand before the buckle. He said nothing but Genki could feel the fury radiating from him, the righteous anger that consumed him.

With a snap of his fingers and a shimmer of light, he extended his arm, that now familiar sigil blistering into existence at the contact between belt and ring.

'Golem,' the aged buckle called out, and, for a moment, Merlin Seno stood superimposed upon that arcane symbol before the shape of it consumed him, drowning him in its mystical glow.

When he emerged, he was hidden completely, dirt brown accents in the lens of the mask and upon the breastplate, a hood that connected to a billowing cloak covering most of the helm.

With a twist of his hand, he moved the ring over the buckle again.

'Excite!' it announced with enthusiasm.

Ahead of them, he saw the gathered strangers tense, those in armour stepping forward ahead of the man who had yet to transform.

The wind gathered stirring the blades of grass between them, and then, with effortlessly grace, Merlin Seno threw his left arm out towards them, palm facing them, the silver ring on his finger glistening with illumination.

"Way of Blessing number 45!" he called out. "Promethean Chains!"

With enthusiasm, the buckle at his waist conceded, calling out a single word:

'Bind!'

From godspace, arcane chains burst forth, lashing out primarily at the foremost of the figures—yet effortlessly, the white armoured other deflected them, sending them snaking back and striking the earth. At their back, the third of the strangers pulled two cartridges from his belt, a look of hesitation playing across his face.

Undeterred by the failure of his first attack, Merlin advanced still, pushing his advantage against the two armoured figures, pawns, he had been assured, of the Destroyer. With an explosion of magical energy, he slammed his fists forward, smashing both of them into the chest of the figure in white armour and sending him staggering back.

With equal speed, he turned upon the other rider, trading punches, parrying blows, grunting with displeasure as the other brought his head back and slammed it forward in a brutal head butt that rattled his teeth in his jaw.

Again, he slid his hand over the buckle of his belt.

'Phoenix,' the machine cried out, and the accents of his armour turned from brown to red.

The white armoured man advanced and Merlin lashed out, his fist leaving a scorch mark of black across the other's chest and eliciting a cry of pain.

"Wait!" the only one of their number still untransformed cried out. "Wait, man, we don't have to fight!"

"I don't care who you are or what you have to say," Merlin growled, "if you've signed a pact with Nimue, then you're the enemy!"

He pulled his fist back, and, with surprising speed, with surprising strength, the young man seized hold of his arm and held him in check.

"We're not your enemies," he shouted, "there's no point in fighting amongst ourselves, trust me, dude, I learnt that the hard way."

From behind his mask, Merlin Seno regarded the other with a sense of dispassion. What had he been like at age 25, he asked himself, had he been this brash, this bold? Angrily, he shook free of the boy's grasp but did not resume his attack.

"Explain," he snarled.

"My name's Senkai, Mashuto Senkai. We were all tricked. Some of us were summoned here, some of us came here by accident. There's an evil presence here, something pretending to be a little girl, she's setting us up against each other. You have to believe me."

"Nimue," Merlin said coldly.

The white armoured figure nodded his ascent.

"That is one of her names. Yet I have always known her as the Authoress."

The autumnal wind stirred about them.

"Looks like things are going to get serious," Tamashii Genki said, advancing slowly.

Gently, he made to set the child in his arms down and stumbled forward, almost falling on his face when he realised there was nothing there.

In confusion, he looked up, his eyes wide and full of panic. The fog parted. With folded arms and a cruel glare, Joan Smith, her hair now ash white, looked upon the gathered group, a man in black armour at her side.

"How nice it is to see everyone getting to know each other," she beamed. "Of course, I haven't come here empty handed either."

She turned to present the figure at her side, waving her hands in silent fanfare.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, may I introduce you to Joshua McClain, better known as Armoured Hero Saturn."

She laughed, a thin, high, reedy sound that cut through the emptiness of that dead world.

"Joshua," she said, the smile fading from her lips, "be a dear and exterminate these insects."

As if in a dream, Josh McClain reached down and drew the Virtua Stunner from its holster, lifting it slowly up, and then, just as slowly, turned it on the Authoress.

"I don't think so," he said, his voice full of resolve.

The wind grew angry then, gathering up the leaves of the trees and casting them about in fury.

"I was worried something like this might happen," the Authoress said with his displeasure, her lips twitching in distaste. "I suppose I will have to resolve this myself then."

From her pinafore, she drew forth a single makeup brush, its handle made of shimmering silver, almost as if it were fashioned from mercury.

With passion, with compunction, she lifted the brush to her face, and her small, thin lips uttered those ancient devastating words:

'Magi Magie Moonlight Makeup!'

Light flashed, petals fell from the blossom, and with the chime of bells, the Authoress transformed.


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