Chapter 10: Perfect Utopia

The first thing Reimu noticed was the wind. There had been a biting gust blowing through the Monolith's portal, bringing with it a strange red dust that had sullied the basement's concrete floor. She wasn't expecting, however, the temperature to drop as a bitterly cold gale assaulted her senses. Closing her eyes, she shielded her face as she stepped onto what felt like a hard stone floor.

"Reimu, take a look," she heard Makoto say. She peeked through her hands, lowering them after she was certain sand wouldn't get into her eyes.

Red. That's the first word that came to mind as Reimu gazed out at the Ganma's world. What she could see of the sky was red, and it cast a red light all around. They were standing in a rocky amphitheater, worn away from the winds and sands. Behind them was a wall, featuring the glyphs and eye-shaped portal they had just come through. Up the sloping curves of the half-domed theater, rocky outcroppings provided them with some relief from the howling gales that whistled through the area. Reimu started to float up the steps to get a good luck, but sank back down almost immediately.

"Heavy," she said, panting a bit. "This place is weird."

"Very few things can fly in the world of the Ganma," Makoto replied, already hiking up the steps. "Eyecons and Gundari, as well as a few other indigenous beasts."

Reimu grumbled as she followed Makoto up the weathered stairs. When she got to the top, her eye drank deep of the scenery around her.

Before them was a vast tundra of sand. All around them the red sand rose and fell in crimson dunes, the wind howling over the land. A crimson sun blazed in the sky, covered partially by dark clouds. Off in the distance she could see cliffs rising above the desert, black islands among a sea of sand. To the right of the cliffs, so far away that she could barely see it, was a series of black pillars.

"That's the Ganma's capital," Makoto said. "Just beyond those cliffs. If we can hurry we can probably make it by nightfall."

Reimu spared a glance at her bottle at her hip. "We're going to need more water."

Makoto held up a large flask. "I believe I have enough. In any case, why do you need to drink when you're dead?"

"Sage was saying something about life energy keeping me from disappearing," Reimu remembered. "Life energy that I got from food and water. Either that or it's keeping me battle-ready. Well, I guess I'll last 'till wherever we get."

The trek through the sands was an arduous task. Like Makoto said, the sun was beginning to set as they reached a top of the hill, the black pillars having grown to the sky of skyscrapers. All around the city were buildings of varying size—a large, relatively modern city of black amidst the red-brown sands. Makoto pointed. "There's an inn in those quarters. We'll stop there for the night."

"So Ganma need to eat and sleep too, huh?" Reimu mused. "Must be a similar case to mine."

He nodded. "The Ganma are an odd species. They need to eat and drink and rest, but they're spirits at the same time. I wonder how that works."

The sun had ceased its vermillion light as they arrived within the city limits, the moon casting an eerie blue glow upon the nighttime landscape. After an entire day of walking, the tired Riders finally arrived at the inn. Reimu munched tiredly on some kind of biscuit as Makoto spoke at length with the innkeeper—it tasted strange, but not entirely unpleasant.

"What's in this?" she asked the elder Fukami as he returned.

"A biscuit made of some type of wheat that only grows here," Makoto said. "It's odd, but you'll get used to ghost food quickly."

"Huh," she said. "Got a room?"

"Yeah. Two beds, one night. Pretty cheap."

"Great. Let's get some rest then."

They left the common area and headed up to their rooms for a night of fitful rest, dreams plagued by red sand and white-armored figures. They woke to a dull orange light—Makoto informed her later that solar sandstorms were a frequent occurrence, blanketing the land in crimson. Normally the land was a dull orange. They had a quick breakfast consisting of the same biscuits as last night, in addition to a slice of green-colored meat that Makoto seemed to wolf down with relish. Reimu managed to choke hers down with little complaint. "I'm not going to ask what that was."

"It's an acquired taste," he chuckled.

They left the inn right after breakfast, checking out. Makoto, having lived here for ten years, knew his way around the city like the back of his hand. Reimu noted that he was greeted by Ganma, occasionally, as they grew closer to the castle. They passed by modern-esque buildings made of stone, the tall columns that made up the palace looming over them. Eventually, they came across a large road leading through the city. They followed the main road down for a mile or two until they came across an enormous gate. The doors stretched several stories high, solid stone doors inscribed with the symbol of the Great Eye. The massive wall stretched outwards to either side, continuing on as far as Reimu could see. At the front of the gate were by two soldiers in blue armor, mono-eyed helmets scanning the horizon for any intrusion—Ganma Superiors.

"Stay close and follow my lead," Makoto whispered to her. He straightened out confidently, holding his head high as he strode straight towards the guards. They crossed their weapons—polearms with dangerously spiked tips—as he approached. "Halt," one called out. "Who goes there?"

"Fukami Makoto, Strike Commander of the Invasion and friend of the Royal Family," he barked out, holding up his Eyecon. Reimu followed close behind, wondering what would happen next. "I must needs access the Palace—official orders from the Magistrate."

"Ah, sir Makoto." Their answer surprised Reimu. She knew he was a friend of the royal family, but this much authority? That was surprising. "Yes, of course. Lord Edith gave orders to let you and the trainee in." The guards uncrossed their spears and the one on the right spoke a phrase into his wrist. The massive stone slabs let out a low rumble, grating upon the ground as they slowly creaked opened. Makoto nodded, striding forward through the massive doors, Reimu following close behind.

They entered into a massive courtyard, acres and acres of land surrounded by the large wall. Their target lay in the center of the acres of gardens—a massive grey tower, reaching high into the sky. As their shoes crunched against the orange gravel of the dirt path leading to the palace entrance, Reimu turned to Makoto. "What was that all about?"

"Hm?" Makoto scanned the area, looking out for anyone suspicious in the large hedges that made up the castle gardens.

"We got in so . . . easily."

"Something Sage told me—he said that he had info that a high-ranking Ganma named Edith had orders for a few soldiers to obtain some valuable weapons for him, for whatever reason. We were to capitalize on that opportunity and slip in uncontested."

The shrine maiden nodded and fell in silently. They passed another set of guards, finally arriving at the large monolith that constituted as the palace proper. The large black building was easily at least several blocks wide and half as deep. At the very top of the building was the Ganma's eye crest, the symbol of Ganma royalty and all Ganmakind.

Reimu stared up at the massive building. "So how do we enter?"

Makoto held up his Eyecon. From the seamless black wall a light shone out, washing over the Specter Eyecon. After several seconds, the light died. With a low rumble, a section of the wall sank into the ground, revealing a person-sized rectangular opening. The hole shone with an ominous red light.

Makoto entered without hesitation, only pausing for Reimu to catch up. The pair cautiously made their way down the corridor, the stone slab sliding in place behind them. After several tense minutes of silent sneaking, the hall opened up into a large room.

It was sparse in design. The room was the size of a baseball diamond, with black walls surrounding the perimeter. In the middle of the room was a pedestal, fifteen foot radius, a variety of weapons resting upon it.

"These them?" Reimu muttered. Makoto nodded. "All right, let's go."

Together, Reimu and Makoto bundled up the weapons and made to leave. Makoto nodded. "I'll go first." As he exited the building, Reimu noticed a strange Eyecon out of the corner of her eye. It was a dull gray—and larger than any other of the strange artifacts she had ever seen. She touched it, curiously.

"Reimu?" Makoto peeked in. "It's clear."

She nodded, leaving the odd Eyecon and following Makoto. The two Riders once again snuck back through the black corridor, and out of the black monolith into the courtyard. They scarce made it five steps until they sensed a very familiar presence behind them.

Reimu slowly turned. Looming behind him, Ghost Driver burning to life upon his military-uniformed waist, was Dark Ghost.

She cursed. "Makoto! We got trouble!"

They summoned their Drivers and quickly transformed, backing away from the oncoming spirit. The weapons still tied about them, they decided the best course of action would be to run.

Reimu shot up into the air, taking Makoto by the hand. "Makoto! Shoot him, or something!"

Makoto nodded and switched to Newton. Launching a gravitational wave, he was able to slow Dark Ghost's advance. Reimu took the opportunity to shoot away, soaring through the dusty air with slight effort, leaving the motionless figure of Dark Ghost staring at them from below.

It wasn't long before they arrived back at the Ganma Hole where they had entered form. Nodding, the two Riders detransformed and returned to the world of the living, entering into a basement full of red sand and anxious faces.

"How did it go?" Akari asked. "You got everything?"

"Yeah," Makoto nodded, adjusting his burden. "We were able to get out all right. However, thanks to Take—Dark Ghost, we were spotted as we were leaving."

"That's not good," Akari muttered. "For now, let's just focus on what we can do—or, rather, what those weapons can. We'll start on that tomorrow."

True to her word, by the next morning Akari had set up her station in the temple courtyard. Computers whirring away, she probed each of the weapons that the Riders had brought back.

"Perfect timing," she said, as Reimu yawned in the temple entryway and Makoto arrived via the shrine steps. "You can start."

Reimu nodded. "Where's Sage?"

"Here~" the old man poofed into view. "Good job, you two. These weapons are imperative for your fight against the Ganma."

"Imperative, huh?" she muttered. Curious, she grabbed hold of a crimson sword. Its blade was red like fire, and in the center of its hilt was etched the Ganma's Eye. A quick scan revealed that all the weapons there had the same design as this. "So do these have names or something?"

"That's the Ganflame Longsword," Sage explained. "Before you ask, each of the other weapons has a similar naming scheme—the Ganflame Magnum, Ganflame Longbow, et cetera."

Reimu swung the Ganflame Longsword around a bit. It felt very similar to the Gangun Saber had—but better. "I like it," she grinned.

She spent the next few hours practicing the weapons with Makoto. The new weapons had a special property of emitting a spectral flame, similar to how the Sunglasslasher had. Sage also informed them that they could actually combine the Eyecons with the weapons—and indeed, Reimu had managed to enhance the Longsword with Musashi's and Goemon's power. She simply held the two Eyecons aloft, which then transfigured into two glyphs that absorbed into her weapon.

"Wow, this is handy," she nodded, extinguishing the blade's flame and returning the Eyecons to normal.

"And just in time, too," Akari muttered. The people present gathered around her as she stared at her laptop, open to a news article. "There's something going on downtown. Check it out, will you?"

Makoto and Reimu nodded and sped off. Quickly arriving to the scene of the crime—yet another abandoned quarry—they came face-to-face with Dark Ghost, surrounded by a small contingency of Ganma.

"Perfect," Reimu smiled grimly. "Time to test these out."

"Henshin!"

Once again the orange and blue Riders took stage, charging at the horde with their new weapons drawn. Reimu immediately summoned the Ganflame Katana in tandem with the Longsword, easily cutting through the spirits with her crimson blades. Makoto had taken to knocking them around with the Ganflame Scythe, wide arcs driving the spirits back.

All of a sudden, Dark Ghost was upon them, Gangun Axe brought to bear against Reimu's two blades. She grunted and pushed him back, retaliating with a flurry of cuts. Her efforts were to no avial, however, as her quarry quickly leapt backwards. He flipped his weapon around, revealing a gun barrel, before firing off several shots of his own. Reimu desummoned her blades and called forth the Ganflame Rifle. She returned fire, causing him to dive for cover behind a mound of gravel.

"Makoto!" she called out as he cleaned up the last of the troopers. "We have him! I think the weapons are working!"

"They'd better," he muttered. "All right, shall we hit him with our new Omega Drives?"

"Yeah," she said. Scanning her weapon, she took careful aim at his hiding place.

"Flame Shooting「Ghost Shotgun」!"

"Omega Fang!"

The shots blew apart the small hill that Dark Ghost was hiding behind, and he flew backwards from the force. Silent as ever, he rolled to a stop before getting up and scanning the Gangun Axe across his belt.

Reimu clenched her teeth. "Here it comes . . . !"

But even as Dark Ghost launched a wave of black energy at the Riders, Reimu thought she heard a familiar cry. The cry of a person who had not spoken in over a month.

The Riders rolled with the impact, their armor vanishing around them. Reimu struggled to rise as Dark Ghost, his motivations ever a mystery, vanished into a Ganma Hole.

"Makoto, did you hear that?" Reimu panted.

"Yeah," the Fukami brother responded. He looked at her, his expression grave.

"That was Takeru. Whatever happened back there was enough to cause a lick of his personality to come through."

Reimu stared up into the sky, frowning. Just what was up with Takeru? What exactly were these weapons Sage had them get? What was going to happen into the future? And why did she feel that things were about to get a lot worse?

In the dark halls of the recently-raided Ganma Palace, a curious scene took place. His Imperal Majesty, Adonis, struggled for breath, rasping upon his royal bed. A thousand thoughts ran through his head, all which were broken as he heard footsteps echo throughout his private chambers.

"Such a sad sight," murmured a frighteningly familiar voice. "It pains me to see you like this, Father."

"Adel," the elderly Ganma hissed. "So it was you."

"Figured it out?" the prince barked out a laugh. "So, you figured out that not only were you being poisoned, but that it was me who did it. Impressive."

"Why, Adel? Why?"

"Because, dear father, you've been keeping secrets from me." Adel sneered at the pale face of his sire. "Secrets to power . . . unimaginable."

"You . . .!" Eyes wide, Adonis struggled to rise, only to be racked by a coughing fit. "The Ganmeizers aren't a toy!"

"Of course not, father. They're a tool." A manic glint had entered the prince's eyes. "Tools to use to bend the world as I see fit—to bring all under the Great Eye. Isn't that what you always wanted?"

This can't be happening, Adonis' breaths were labored as he was firmly shoved back down. Not when I just uncovered the Great Eye's secret.

"Well, father, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have places to go, powers to obtain," Adel said airily, "powers that require me to be king. So, goodbye, dear father."

Adonis could only stare in numb shock as his Eyecon—the very container of his soul—was immolated in blue flame. He couldn't even scream as the life was torn from him by his very own flesh and blood. After what felt like an eternity, his breath escaped his list, and he breathed his last.

The room was silent for several tense moments. Then the shocked quiet was broken by Adel's peals of laughter, echoing throughout the private chamber. "Oh, Adel, compose yourself," he chided himself. "You have a reputation to uphold, do you not?"

His face suddenly went blank, the grin dissolving into unnatural stoicism. Then his features etched into that of a distraught son, devastated at just learning of his father's passing.

"Help! Father—father's dead!" He wailed, blowing open the doors and streaking down the hall. "The king is dead! The king is dead!"

And long live the king.