Siren. Wing Knight. Dragon Knight.

It is evening, two days later. Xaviax is meditating in his recovery pod, contemplating his foes and their strengths and weaknesses, when Strike finally returns from the task he was set.

"I assume young Danny has ceased to exist," he queries, without the slightest hint of a question in that question. There is no defying him; not in this. The only thing he is willing to entertain is absolute obedience.

"No. ...but I beat some sense into him!"

You

Xaviax doesn't speak—he is beyond speech. He just starts forward, gathering void energy around his outstretched hand.

"No, wait—General, we need him," Strike says hurriedly. "Without him it's just me against Siren, Dragon, and Wing Knight." His mind is obviously whirring. "—Let's grab Taylor's dad again! I'll force him to fight for us this time."

It isn't a terrible plan, all things considered. If Xaviax weren't nearly blind with fury at this direct disobedience from his most valuable soldier, he might even commend Strike for using a tenth of his brain matter coming up with it. Unfortunately for him though, Frank Taylor And What To Do With Him is already an existing iron in the General's fire.

"No. I have a more direct approach in mind."

The time for games and subterfuge is over. The time for watching is done. Where Kit is concerned, it is finally time for him to step in front of the curtain, be seen, and perform. As for that traitorous runt...

"...but Danny is your decision. And it's on your head."

He will not think of Spear anymore. Whatever becomes of him is fate.

He leaves Strike with that parting shot, that final warning, and finishes his meditation. His lieutenant is long gone by the time he emerges, dangerous and modestly-dressed, and strides through mirror after mirror until he finds the hospital Frank Taylor is currently recuperating in. As of yet, his son—Xaviax's true target—is nowhere to be seen.

Hours of meditation have calmed him: he sits for a long while at Frank's bedside, after confusing the attending nurse into leaving. ("Oh, I'm his brother, you see? Tore into town when I heard he wasn't missing any longer. Surely you can allow me a few moments...?") He strokes Frank's thinning hair and talks to him sotto voice about all that's happened since they were cruelly separated days ago. He even remembers to block off all the mirrors, so that when the Dragon does arrive it won't be with an entourage—although, based on the whispers he's gotten from his defeated minions, his enemies are not quite so united as he feared. Kit is testing out more of a solo run these days. Butting heads quite a lot with the lovely Kamen Rider Siren.

It's delicious gossip. Finally, some good news.

"Soon," he croons to Frank. "Things have begun to turn in my favor again. Soon our son will be home where he belongs."

He hears the squelch of run-down shoes outside Frank's door almost before he's finished talking. The boy is too trusting of institutions, else he wouldn't opt to arrive on his feet with no armor. But he doesn't turn—no, not yet. By unmasking himself to Kit, Xaviax is about to change the game—upend the board. It doesn't hurt to savor the moment.

"Who're you? ...Are you the doctor?"

And... turn.

Earth's Dragon Knight looks the same as he always does: scruffy, underfed, stubborn. Like he's constantly brooding, and only the subject changes from moment to moment. Charming, in a ridiculous sort of way. Like a dog that's had too many pats. Just like Adam, except even more annoying. It's a miracle Xaviax has any shred of fondness for him.

"I've been many things," he tells the boy, watching his expression closely. He wants to see the moment Kit gets it; he wants to record it, remember it forever. "Brad Barrett knew me as 'Charlie Feathers'. Mr. Ramirez thought I was 'Agent Simons'; the kid you knew as Kamen Rider Camo called me 'Captain Maddock'—"

"Xaviax," Kit gasps, wearing the most satisfying stunned expression he has ever witnessed on any living being.

"Head of the class!"

"What do you want from me?"

"The same thing I've always wanted, Kit: your health." He lets his hand twitch over Frank: silly, sleeping Frank.

"Wh-what are you doing?! Stop—!"

But he isn't fast enough—isn't decided on what to do exactly, with his father in firing range. So Xaviax is able to complete his motion: smooth his hand down over Frank's clammy forehead, and send a teeny-tiny pulse of Karshan restorative magic through the man. It's barely a poke; just enough to rouse him for a few minutes. It's enough.

"Dad?" the boy croaks.

"Give him a minute," Xaviax chides; the silly boy might otherwise do dear daddy permanent damage. "He's been gone a long time."

Kit's fingers twitch; his hands clench and unclench. Rather than keep staring at his stirring father, or move towards him, he turns—inexplicably—back to Xaviax. His eyes are bright with understanding that wasn't there before. Understanding and anger.

"Wait—it was you. The entire time, my dad giving me advice, it was you! He—you told me to find the Deck, you told me to merge with the Dragon—you told me to fight all the Riders! You tricked me!"

Semantics, the General thinks, while shushing the boy with one wagging finger. "I think someone's waiting to talk to you."

"How do I know this isn't another trick?" Kit snaps—and something about the uncalled-for hurt in his voice wipes away all the smug amusement Xaviax has been cradling this whole time, so that his only proper response is to snap back: "Because it doesn't need to be" before putting some distance between them.

Frank croaks something from the bed and Kit's attention shifts immediately back to him. They murmur to each other in voices too low for a human outside the room to hear, which of course means Xaviax hears every word. This is good, because Dragon Knight almost immediately tries to bend the unspoken rules of their little game: he asks his father one of those age-old 'greater-good versus individual good' questions. The same kind Xaviax had answered borrowing Frank's lifeless tongue not so long ago, so, rude. Hadn't his answer been sufficient?

"...would you give up the one person you love in order to save a thousand strangers?"

Oh, no no no. He couldn't have that.

"I've always said that blood is thicker than motor oil, Kit," Frank starts, sounding (it must be stressed) exactly like Xaviax. He had mastered this man's mannerisms; it is frankly insulting that Kit looks so shocked to be told the same thing he was told before. "But... in this case, I..."

Oh, no, Xaviax thinks, waving his hand and pulling back that sliver of strength, watching Frank become just another frozen potato with no small sense of pride in his handiwork. No, I think that's quite enough out of you, Mr. Taylor.

"Sorry, Kit! Time's up."

The boy bristles. "Bring him back, you have to bring him back—"

"I will," he assures him—but leaves the sentence dangling.

Kit wastes everyone's time reiterating what he'd already realized before Frank stirred—that Xaviax has had a far greater hand in his past year's fortunes, and misfortunes, than he had suspected at first. He's awfully insistent on hashing everything out right here and now. Perhaps that's why Xaviax likes him despite everything—he's soul-crushingly slow, ridiculously gullible, and his temper runs too hot, but once he's committed himself to a cause, there is no better soldier for that cause. It's why he's able to easily refute Kit when he comes to the mistaken conclusion that he's just like every other idiot Earthling in Xaviax's eyes.

"I thought I was different."

"Oh, you were. Oh, Kit, you were the only Rider I couldn't reach. You had no vices... certainly didn't have any ambition... and I knew you wouldn't listen to me. But I thought you probably really loved your dad."

"...You manipulated so many people," Kit whispers, looking disgusted. "You twisted everything my father said."

Xaviax has been waiting a week for this moment, though, and he is out of patience. A small eternity has passed since he started this game, and now he wants it wrapped up—and in the rearview.

"Listen, bottom line, Kit: I'm the only guy that can bring your dad back, just the way he used to be. But the only person who can make that happen... is you."

"You want me to Vent Wing Knight."

"Yeah..." He shrugs off the command; no big deal, just wait until he's distracted by his bird and stab him in the back, what's the harm? "I mean, what's with the, the whole loyalty thing? Now that Siren's in the picture, he doesn't really want you around; you already know that—" Kit's shaking his head, but it's clear he isn't as unbothered as he pretends to be by the new trio dynamic. "And believe me, Kit, when the end comes, he's going to want you to sacrifice yourself for his world—just like Chris did. And who's going to take care of dear old Dad when that happens?"

He wiggles Frank's blanketed knee meaningfully. Kit's posture stiffens, but he doesn't speak—perhaps, he can't bring himself to.

Perhaps he needs a little more time to think.

Xaviax makes his voice deliberately soft. "I'll show myself out."

His stride out of the hospital is brisk and triumphant. At last, all his ploys are in place. The dead weight on his team is being pruned; Wing Knight's leadership is faltering; and Dragon Knight has been handed his very generous offer letter, with terms he'd be a fool not to accept. And once he does accept...

Wing Knight falls, and the Earth is mine.

His last thoughts as he opens a mirror gateway through a car window and steps through are even whimsical. Thank goodness I'm not actually human. I would have gained several new gray hairs every single day this nonsense went on.


That's all, folks! Any quotes you recognize were lifted directly from the episodes to increase immersion. Thanks for reading, comments welcome!