Chapter 12: The Fall and Rise of a King

Emperor Adonis' funeral was a grand affair, the entirety of the Ganma Kingdom mourning their beloved leader's passage. His body was wrapped in the country standard—a red flag with the Great Eye in green—and buried in the royal gravesite, as his forefathers had been. Throughout all of this, Alain was in a constant state of numbness. Not only had he just lost his father, but his general, and trusted leader. Adding insult to injury were the recent reports that Dark Ghost had since been downed in battle.

Once the funeral procession was over, Alain retreated to the castle, preferring to be kept out of sight of public eye. The invasion was officially on hold—the Emperor's death had hit the troops' morale hard. His thoughts and emotions swirling inside, he sat in his office, perusing over strategies and maps, trying to distract himself from his current situation.

A knock came from the door. "Come in," he said, turning to see his sister enter.

"Alain, how are you holding up?" the princess of the Ganma asked.

"Just fine," he said automatically.

"Liar," Alia gently accused. "You never go over maps."

He sighed, defeated. "It's just—father's really gone? Like a mortal?"

"He is," she said softly. "Not even we live forever, Alain. You know this."

"Yeah," he muttered. "But—but even still."

She sat down next to him, placing her hand on his. " . . . Tell me, Alain. What do you really think about the war?"

"It's good for the crown and homeland," he said automatically. Upon her look, he withered. " . . . I don't know. We could use the room, and I certainly won't mind a blessing from the Great Eye, but it just feels like we're fighting to fight. First the conquest of the Outer Lands, and now this?"

"I understand," she nodded. "It's odd. But we may not have to fight anymore. We should be grateful for this."

"I guess," he hesitated. "But I still have unfinished business with them."

"Finish it or not, I don't care," she waved her hand. Alain could see the bags under her eyes. "Just don't get yourself killed, all right?"

"Don't worry," he smiled the tiniest bit. "I don't intend to die. I'm immortal, remember?"

Alia gave him a peck on the forehead before dismissing herself. It would be another few hours before the tumult in his mind allowed him to rest, however.

The next day, Alain found his sister, along with his combat instructor, Gyro, in the war room. They were quietly discussing something when he entered.

"Morning," he greeted curtly. "What were you two discussing?"

"Who will be crowned next in line, actually," Gyro said. He was an older man, having served many years in the Ganma's military, but his age didn't stop him any. "Alia is the most logical choice, as she is both the oldest and the most experienced in combat out of the three of you."

Alain nodded. "If I had my choice, I wouldn't care for being king anyways. Politics is not my forte."

"We know," Alia said dryly. "But really, it's all for the Great Eye to choose."

Suddenly, a messenger burst into the room. "My lady! My lord!" he cried, kneeling. "The Great Eye is active!"

"What? Already?" Alia stood. "Alain, come."

"Right."

The royalty quickly hurried to the Great Hall, where the throne was seated. Above, the symbol of the Great Eye shone in a myriad of colors. Adel was already present.

"You're late," he said, and Alain swore he heard smugness in his voice.

"Adel, why is it starting now?" Alia demanded. "Did you do something?"

"Of course not, dear sister," he held up his hands. "It just started and I sent a messenger to fetch you all."

Something was definitely off—Alain knew his brother would never play fair like this. It was tradition that each candidate for the throne had to be present when the selection occurred—and Adel would take the opportunity to be the only one present, if he had the chance. Such thoughts would have to wait, for the Great Eye shone a beam of light down into the room. It passed over each of the royal siblings in turn, before blinking out. Nothing happened for a moment.

Then Adel's Eyecon began to glow.

They stared, transfixed, as it hovered in the air for a split second before the glow died down. It had turned a golden color, its iris a pale blue.

"What?!" Alain seethed. "Adel, what is the meaning of this?" Alia said nothing, just frowned.

Adel smiled. It wasn't a warm one. "Well, that settles that," he proclaimed.

"Adel, answer me!" Alain strode up to him and spun him around. "What did you do?!"

Adel gingerly pried Alain's hand off of his shoulder. "Come, brother, the Eye has chosen," he said in a tone that Alain could have sworn was mocking. "Base jealousy does not suit you."

Alain glared as Alia regarded him coldly.

Adel smirked as he took his seat upon the throne. "My first order as king," he decreed, "will be to redouble our war effort against the mortals."

"You're sure?" Gyro asked.

Adel looked down upon him. "Yes, I am sure. We are to begin immediately. Alain, continue your campaign in Japan. Alia, you will go to Europe. Somebody is snooping around in places they shouldn't be."

Alain and Alia bowed, taking their leave.

"Alain, wait," Adel called out. As his brother turned around, he spoke. "Word has it that weapons have been stolen from the vault—weapons your troops were guarding." His eyes narrowed. "Take care of it. And don't fail."

Alain grit his teeth. "Yes, my lord."

"Good. Dismissed."

Alain found his sister in the hallway, making preparations for their immediate mobilization. "Sister. This feels . . . wrong."

She nodded. "I have my suspicions about what part Adel himself played in this bizarre matter, but for now we can do nothing. Let us depart."

Alain nodded, already walking away. His troops were waiting for their commander, after all.

"How is he?" Makoto asked. He had been coming over a lot lately—to check up on Takeru, sure, but also due to the fact that paranormal activity had been increasing again.

"Still asleep," Akari said without looking up from her laptop. "He hasn't woken up since you brought him back."

The elder Fukami sighed. "If only there were a doctor we could go to for ghost comas." He pulled up a chair, sitting at the table.

Many changes had happened as of late. The basement had converted to a "command center" of sorts, several monitors hooked up to some of Akari's computers. Sage, in an odd gesture of charitability, had supplied them with miniature sensors that they placed throughout the city in an effort to quit relying on word-of-mouth cases—they could go directly to the source. Onari was hesitant to take this step, as it meant that they'd get fewer and fewer cases, but they figured the drastic times called for drastic measured.

Reimu plopped herself down in a chair. "Ugh, it's such a pain," she grumbled.

"Luminaries coming along well?" Akari asked.

"Ugh," she groaned. "They're so stubborn. Nobody wants to tell me anything." She glared at the Beethoven Eyecon. "Hurry up and connect with me already!"

"I'm sure that's going to make them work," Makoto said dryly.

Onari burst into the room. "Paranormal activity! And it's a big one!"

Makoto nodded to Reimu. "Let's go!"

"Right!"

The source of the ghostly disturbance was at the abandoned quarry—a place that, for some reason, Reimu found herself coming back to time and time again. Yurusen had said something about it being easy to connect to the Ganma's World from there or something, but Reimu hadn't quite been paying attention. Indeed, Reimu and Makoto soon found themselves staring down an entire battalion of Ganma.

Quickly donning Boost's red flames, she lashed out with her Ghostflame Katana in one hand and her Ghostflame Shotgun in the other. Makoto charged in with Houdini's chains, the Ghostflame Scythe connected at the end of one of the spectral links.

An impact nearly knocked them over. Turning, the Riders found themselves face-to-face with Necrom, who had descended onto the battlefield once more.

"Alain," Makoto growled. "You've gone too far!" Reimu aimed her shotgun.

Necrom said nothing, opting to simply throw green spheres of spectral fire at Makoto and Reimu. They dodged out of the way, and begun their assault. Reimu stayed out of the way, firing with her shotgun, while Makoto got up close and personal. At first, the results were the same as last time—they didn't seem to be able to land a hit upon Necrom at all.

Then Reimu shot him in the face with her shotgun.

Fully expecting the burning bullets to go right through him, she stared in stunned shock as he staggered back, clutching his face in pain.

"Makoto!" she called out.

"Right!" he roared out a battle cry as he charged Necrom, rage filling his veins. He swung his Ganflame Rifle, smashing the barrel of the gun across Necrom's head. He continued his assault, beating the white Rider over the head with his weapon, each blow punctuated by angry cries.

With a cry, Makoto raised his rifle over his head and swung downwards. Necrom lashed out a hand, stopping the weapon's progress. "Too slow," he sneered. Necrom planted his foot in Makoto's stomach, sending the Rider stumbling back, the rifle torn from his grip. Necrom whirled in around and fired a few rounds at Reimu before she could fire off her own shot.

Reimu rolled, switching to Himiko as she did. Himiko wasn't her favorite—Reimu got the feeling that the princess didn't quite like her—but her ability was useful now. She stuck out her open palm, and a pink mist spread outwards, absorbing the oncoming shots. Twisting her hand, she sent the mist swirling around Makoto and herself, wrapping themselves in an ethereal blanket.

Necrom fired twice more, then threw the weapon at Reimu. She dodged, the rifle sailing over her head as Makoto desummoned it. She swapped to the Ganflame Bow as Makoto brought out the Scythe, ghostly flames dancing along its edge.

The three clashed, neither side advancing nor retreating. Though Necrom was now able to be damaged at a constant rate, he was still plenty tough, as his emotionlessly precise combat style prevented them from getting any cheap shots in. Reimu tended to stay back, firing away with the Ganflame Shotgun as she strafed him, and slashing with the Longsword if the white Rider got too close. Makoto swung the Scythe like a berserker of old, wide, flaming arcs carving burning swaths through the air. Their opposition pushed back as well: Necrom's bag of tricks may have lost their edge, but certainly none of their usefulness. His liquid state proved to great effect against Reimu's ranged attacks, and Makoto's slashes would often find their way barred by his defenses. This stalemate went on for several minutes, the surrounding terrain becoming scorched by spectral fire.

The two Riders found themselves crouched behind a massive hill of gravel, shots whizzing over their heads. Necrom had fallen back after a particularly nasty blow and had ordered his Ganma Assaults and Commandos to pin them down.

"What now?" Makoto muttered as he readied his Rifle. His rage had worn off, and he was panting heavily.

Reimu cocked her Ganflame Shotgun. "I don't suppose you have anything capable of shielding us?"

He shook his head. "The only barrier creation we have is Himikio's mist. That'll do no good here—the amount of shots'll completely blow it away. Benkei is tanky, but lacks shielding."

Reimu tched. "Well, I can't die. So I'll draw their fire while you hit them with a Nobunaga Drive."

"Too risky," Makoto shook his head. "We can't risk it. You may be unkillable, but I'm not. Once you've been shot down I'm easy pickings."

"Then maybe let me help," a weak voice suggested.

The two Riders spun, and before them stood Takeru, looking like he had just been dragged through the dirt—but awake.

"Takeru!" Reimu exclaimed. "You shouldn't be here!"

"Get some rest," Makoto told him. "What are you doing?"

He coughed, smiling weakly. "I'm fine. I'm a ghost like you, Reimu—I can't die."

"Even so," she began.

"I'm not leaving. I heard you say you need help," he nodded. His Driver had already burned into life with a burst of black flame. "Henshin!"

Reimu scratched her head in irritation as Dark Ghost's black-and-white armor formed around Takeru. "Argh, fine! It's not my fault if you get worse!"

Takeru brought out a blue Eyecon with a gold center. "What's that?" Makoto asked, surprised.

"It's not one of the fifteen," Reimu observed.

Takeru slammed it into his Driver and cranked the lever. "Eyes open!" the Driver cheerfully announced. "Napoleon!" A blue Parka Ghost with a red cape cloaked itself over Takeru's shoulders. "Begin the revolution! It is destiny!"

"Napoleon, the Emperor of France!" Takeru declared. "Victor of decisive victories in the French Revolution!"

"Uh, okay?" Reimu tilted her head.

"And, as a leader-type," Takeru pumped the lever in his Driver, "He can protect!"

"Napoleon! Omega Drive!"

Takeru leapt up to the top of the gravel hill and raised his hands. Around him arose a barrier, which absorbed the bullets that whizzed by overhead.

"Go!" Takeru cried, and Makoto and Reimu were up there in the barrier with him, unleashing their fury upon the army. Makoto's Nobunaga rained rifle shot upon the ghosts, and Reimu laughed with a trace of madness as she spun around, firing away with Billy the Kid's shotgun-and-revolver combo.

Takeru slowly advanced, keeping the barrier up as Makoto and Reimu advanced. Necrom fired back with his own Gangun Catcher, but the shots simply dissipated. Soon enough the horde had fallen, leaving only the four Riders.

"So, Dark Ghost," Necrom growled with something akin to pain in his voice, "you have betrayed me as well?"

"Necrom," Takeru responded with fire in his voice. "You killed me and used me. You're going to pay for that!" The barrier dropped, and he charged forward, Gangun Axe brought to bear.

The axe, predictably, phased right through him, but Takeru wasn't done. He spun past him with the momentum, leaving him open to a barrage from Makoto and Reimu. As Necrom reeled from the shock, Takeru slashed the axe across the white Rider's back. The color began to drain from Necrom's suit.

"We're getting there!" Reimu's eyes widened. "He's almost down!"

Takeru scanned his axe, charging it with Omega Drive power. "Napoleon! Omega Crash!" With a cry, he swung his axe downwards thrice, slashing him with blue, then white, and then finally red flame. Necrom cried out as his transformation, for the first time since the Necrom Eyecon's activation, the Necrom suit shattered, and Alain collapsed to the ground, his uniform shredded.

The three Riders surrounded him, weapons leveled. Reimu caught a glimpse of the Ganma Prince's face—bags were under his eyes, his face was pale, and he looked even more gaunt than usual. Reimu felt a slight pang of pity for him.

"Alain," Makoto said, his gun lowering slightly. "What's your plan?"

Alain snarled. "What's it too you, human? Finish me off already."

Reimu raised her gun, but Makoto held out a hand. "What's going on, Alain? Why'd you stop? And why come back now?"

"Don't ask me," came the surprising reply. "The king wills it."

Makoto paused. "Lord Adonis? But he—"

"He's dead," Alain snapped. "Adel sits on the throne. You'd better watch out, human—he never liked you."

Makoto was stunned. "Adonis is dead?" he whispered. "I—"

"Watch out!" Reimu tackled Makoto.

Behind them, a Ganma Hole had sprung to life. Alain grabbed his fallen Gangun Catcher, blocked an attack from Takeru, and dove inside. It blinked out of existence before Makoto even stood up.

Reimu cancelled her transformation, fuming. "We almost had him!"

Takeru sighed, and then winced. "Ow. Does transforming usually hurt this much?"

"You must've pulled something. That's why I told you to take it easy."

Makoto just stared at the ground. "Hey, you okay?" Reimu asked.

" . . . Yeah," he said. "It's just . . . ."

Reimu was silent for a second. "Well, let's get Takeru back and patched up first. He's going to be hurting far more than he knows."

Reimu was spot-on the money, for by the time they got back, Takeru was a mess of aching limbs and queasy insides.

"Ugh," he moaned as he laid down with a cold towel upon his head. "Owwwww."

"Told you," Akari sniffed unsympathetically. "But you ignored me and went."

"Sorry," he winced. "Ow."

"So, you wanna tell us what's going on?" Reimu asked Makoto as he sat down at the table.

Makoto sighed. "Saw right through me, huh?"

"You were being super obvious, dude."

"Got me there." He leaned forward. "The Emperor Adonis was a kind man. He gave my sister and I a home—a light in the dark times we were in. Sure, the invasion against humanity was a tad weird, but you haven't seen the state the people were in. They need whatever resources they can get."

"Things didn't look that bad when we were there," Reimu frowned.

"That was the Capital—of course things looked fine. You haven't seen the other cities or the Outer Lands." Makoto sighed. "And then there's Adel."

"Yeah, you mentioned him," Reimu recalled. "Who is he?"

"Alain's brother. Though he doesn't seem like it, Alain was once a nice guy—though he doesn't understand exactly how mortals work," Makoto replied. "But Adel was pure ambition. He's even tried to kill me a few times. If he's on the throne, I fear the road ahead might be far harder than we thought."

"So he's bad news," Reimu repeated.

"Oh yeah," Makoto nodded. Takeru made his agreement known by groaning in pain.

An uncomfortable silence fell. The minutes passed as the assembled cast mused the situation internally. Eventually, Reimu scratched her head and sighed. "I'm heading off for the day," she announced. "I'm tired. See you all tomorrow." With that, the shrine maiden left. It didn't take long for the rest to slowly trickle out, heading off to get their own rest.

That rest would be cut short, as next morning a massive explosion echoed throughout the mountains. Reimu shot up, panicked as she stumbled through the shrine walls, rubbing sleep from her tired eyes. "Whazzgoinon?" she mumbled blearily to a frightened Takeru, who was wincing both from the sudden movement and sleeping in the dining room all night.

"Bad news!" Akari, the earliest riser, was already scrolling through her phone at a breakneck pace. "A massive explosion in the middle of Shibuya occurred not two minutes ago. Some are saying it's a terrorist attack, but after what Alain said yesterday . . . ." she held out her phone.

Reimu glared at the screen. "You're right. Ganma," she confirmed with a shake of her head. "Where's Makoto?"

"Here," the elder Fukami replied, his dark blue sweats and white t-shirt a testament to how fast he arrived. "Ganma?"

"Yep." She nodded at Makoto, who returned the motion. "Let's go."

"I'm going to!" Takeru said even as he struggled to stand.

"No you're not," Akari snapped. "You're still injured."

"I'm fine," he insisted. "I can still fight!"

"No, you're staying here!"

Reimu ran her hands through her hair. "Ugh, fine! Just c'mon!" She grabbed Takeru's wrist, making him wince as she pulled him out the door to where Makoto was waiting on his bike.

"Reimu!" Akari chased after them. "He's not fully recovered!"

"I know!" she said, frustrated, as Makoto started the engine. Takeru sat right behind his friend, slipping on a bike helmet. "But I just have a feeling!"

The engine roared to life, and the Riders disappeared with Reimu flying right behind. Akari stomped her foot in frustration. Onari chose at that moment to make his appearance. "Akari," the monk began. "It's definitely not safe here. The fight is practically on our front door now."

Akari glared at him for a few seconds, still not over Takeru's sudden departure, before deflating. "Yeah, you're right. You still have that friend from Akina?"

"Indeed," Onari nodded, already on his phone. "Hello, Takumi? Fujiwara Takumi? This is Onari. Yeah, I have a favor to call in."

The three Riders had already donned their ghostly armor as they sped towards Shibuya with record speed. All around them screaming citizens were fleeing in terror. Flames licked the asphalt around them, and cars had clogged up the road, deserted by their panicked drivers. This proved to be little issue for the Riders, as Reimu and Takeru had natural flight capabilities, and Makoto simply donned Houdini's hood once again.

Takeru winced at the destruction around him, his expression hidden behind his mask. "I hope everyone made it out okay . . . ." he muttered.

Reimu doubted it, but she kept such thoughts to herself. "Ganma," she called out, summoning her weapons alongside her companions. "Let's go!"

The ghostly foottroops noticed their company as well. To the Riders' surprised, they knelt down in neat, orderly, rows, bringing pitch-black weapons to bare.

"Fire!" a voice shouted. Instantly the air was filled with bullets of ghostly flame, forcing Reimu to swerve out of the way, ducking and weaving through the firestorm as she sped along. Despite herself, she gave a small smile. This was what she was used to—flying through a storm of pain to shoot your adversary in the face. Close-quarter combat hadn't been an issue until recently.

Takeru and Makoto, on the other hand, weren't so lucky. Dark Ghost's user had yelped when the barrage initially fell upon him and dove behind a car for cover, advancing forward slowly. Specter, on the other hand, wasn't so agile. He took the shots to the face, braving through the pain, before crashing down on a car, Houdini's jetpack having been compromised. He immediately switched to Nobunaga and responded with his own barrage of rifle fire.

With Makoto and Reimu drawing the bulk of their foe's attention, Takeru could focus on whomever was giving them orders. Finally, he spotted it—a Ganma Superior clad in a short, ragged robe of red. A crimson mask was upon its face, sporting a haunting grin with wickedly sharp teeth. The Ganma held aloft a large, black bat, sharp spikes studded along its length.

"Oni?" Takeru frowned before shaking his head. He pumped his Driver once, feeling white ghost-fire rush into his axe. He cocked it back, aimed, and flung the weapon with all his strength.

"Omega Crash!"

The blade cut through the air in an arc, guided by the Omega Drive's fire. It honed in on the Oni Ganma Superior before slamming into it, embedding its head in the ghost's midsection before erupting in a burst of flame. The Ganma cried out, falling off of its perch into the footsoldiers below. That caused enough of a distraction for Makoto and Reimu to shoot down the distracted grunts with burst of Ganflame.

Barely pausing to catch their breath, the trio sped on, Makoto borrowing Newton's gravitational manipulation to float alongside the others.

"That Ganma," Takeru muttered. "It wasn't like the other Ganma we've faced. I think it was an oni."

That caught Reimu's attention. "Wait, what?" she demanded, swerving closer to him. "What's that about an oni Ganma?"

Takeru nodded. "It had the mask of an oni and it had one of those kanabo," he said. He held out the mask for Reimu, who took it. "This was by the Eyecon after the explosion."

Reimu frowned. "This . . . this is an artifact from the Underground," she realized. "But what's it doing all the way out here?"

"Something wrong?"

Reimu nodded. "This is from home," she replied. "A relic belonging to an Oni general from long ago. Yuugi claimed to be his descendant or something like that."

"Well, he went down easy enough," Makoto said. "We should be thankful that we didn't have to fight an actual oni."

Reimu rolled her eyes. "Just shoot some beans at them from a rifle and you're good," she dismissed.

"That would kill anyone," Takeru deadpanned.

"But that makes two," she said, ignoring him. "Two Ganma based on youkai from home. This . . . isn't good. I have a really bad feeling that this is going to end up horribly."

Whatever other thoughts Reimu had on the matter were interrupted by their arrival in the middle of the Shibuya Square. All around them the evidence of destruction was clear. Buildings were cracked, the streets ruined, and fire run rampant. Shapes that Reimu hoped weren't bodies and puddles she hoped weren't blood were scattered about the wreckage.

The Riders landed. "You," Reimu spat.

Necrom stood in the center, a host of Ganma behind him. "Ghost," he said bitterly. "Specter. Dark Ghost."

"Alain, what's wrong with you?!" Makoto roared. "Those are people that you've killed! Do you realize what you've done?"

Necrom looked like he was about to speak, but was cut off from a different voice. "Of course he does, Makoto. A he did was squash a few insects."

From a massive Ganma Hole descended a veritable army of Ganma. The black soldiers all fled to the sides of the squares, their sheer numbers spreading out through the streets. The army parted ways, and Specter knelt stiffly as a black stone chair touched down into the center of the street. Beside it stood a female Ganma, as straight at-attention as could possibly be.

Seated upon the throne was a Ganma in a white military uniform, gold lining his pristine robes. His regal adornment was marred by his slouched posture—his chin rested upon his hand as he reclined in the chair—and a mess of dark hair atop a cruel smirk.

"Adel," Makoto growled, and Reimu's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, come now, Makoto," Adel said airily. "Do behave yourself. It's not my fault they were weak enough to die."

Makoto raised his rifle, but the sound of several thousand Ganma all readying their own weapons gave him pause. Snarling, he lowered the gun.

Adel laughed. "Oh, this is wonderful. Alain comes running home, crying about how these mortals keep on besting him. Yet I don't even have to lift a finger." He smiled down at Necrom. "You see, Alain? This is how it's done. Absolute power, absolute will. Crush all those who oppose you."

Necrom said nothing. Adel sighed dramatically, rising from his chair, hands outstretched. "Now. I am a man of few words, so I'll give you my thanks, mortals. You have saved me the effort of slaughtering this entire city to find you." He paused. "That will still occur, of course, but now we might take doing such things at our leisure." He clasped his hands together before him. "I do hope you understand."

"What I understand," Reimu said, glaring, "Is that I'm going to kick your sorry excuse for a posterior twelve ways from here to the moon and back."

The Ganma Emperor tch'd. "I see," he shrugged. "Well, I might as well show you a few new toys before you die."

The Ganma Hole rippled. A myriad color of lights shone through, and from the eye descended a strange rectangular object, adorned with strange markings and an oddly-familiar symbol. It gleamed crimson in the morning light, glowing softly despite it being day.

From the moment it exited the hole Reimu had felt an oppressive presence from the monolith. Just looking at it made her head hurt and her ears buzz faintly. She shook her head to clear it of those weird sensations.

"Meet the Gammaizer, mortals," Adel declared haughtily. "Which one of you will be bold enough to face it first?"

Reimu was unsure of what to do. They had to fight a pillar? Well, she'd fought things just as strange, but still.

Adel sighed. "Oh well. Bring Makoto forth."

A soldier smacked Makoto in the back, causing him to stumble forward. He glared at the Ganma before turning around and glaring again at Adel, who simply smirked. "Go on, Makoto. Show me how well you die."

Specter let out a snarl, and he swung the Ganflame Rifle around and fired at the Monolith. The burning bullet flew and landed smack in the middle of the pillar, splashing it in a wave of ghostly fire. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the red rectangle swirled about with flames, and it disappeared into an orb of fire. The company present all shielded their eyes from the flare—all save Adel, who widened his and leaned forward to stare into the inferno, transfixed. As the fire spun, it began to gradually take shape. First a sphere—then two columns, then two more spheres. The light finally died down, and as it did, a vaguely humanoid figure was standing in the place of the monolith. It looked human, yes—but it looked more like fire than any living person. Its chest and shoulders were great balls of burning flame, its arms and legs like twisted mockeries of a flaming facsimile of the human limb. Its head was likewise a sphere of fire—yet in the center, a crimson orb stared out, encrowned by crimson tongues that leapt at the air. In the middle of the spheres was a black symbol—a circle of fire, cleaved down the middle.

Makoto staggered back. The heat was immense. He brought his weapon to bear, and managed to fire off a few more rounds before the weapon grew too hot and he dropped it onto the already-sizzling ground. He clutched his hand in pain as the Gammaizer took one step forward, the very ground beneath it melting in its wake. Around him he could see Ganma soldiers, rapt at attention, not caring that a number among them had spontaneously combusted from the monster's arrival.

"What is this?" he got out through gritted teeth.

"The Gammaizer of Fire, of course!" laughed Adel. As if a switch were flipped, Adel's mirthful chortles ceased, and his eyes hardened. "Finish him."

The Gammaizer stretched out one hand, and Makoto's cries were unheard as a pillar of flame engulfed him. Roaring, Reimu and Takeru leapt at the thing, but were similarly cast aflame.

Adel's lips grew thin in a malicious smile as he watched the three Riders burn in front of him. Their screams—Makoto's in particular—were music to his ears. After a minute of watching the Gammaizer immolate its victims, he snapped. Immediately the Gammaizer stopped. It once more dissolved into flame and congealed back into the red pillar.

The bodies of the Riders lay askew upon the ground, still smoking. Their paras had been burnt off, leaving only scorched armor and defeated spirits. "I am impressed," Adel said. "You manage to survive the fire of the Great Eye. Unfortunately, that just means you get to experience a much worse death."

From the Ganma Hole descended another monolith, this time grey in color. Then another, but yellow. More and more monoliths descended, until they encircled the Emperor, fifteen in number. Reimu, through the hazy pain of burning, cried out as the oppressive presence grew exponentially stronger, crushing on her mind as a hand caught in a vice.

"Let's see . . . ." Adel muttered, glancing about him at the monoliths. He frowned, straining his ear as if listening to something. "Ah, perfect."

A teal light shone forth from one monolith. Behind them a swirling vortex spun into existence, energy lancing out from its center.

"This is the Gammaizer of Time," Adel stated. "It will send you to a time of my choosing. A time where you will be stuck to the howling rage of the world as you are slowly killed by the terror of the ages."

Adel slowly stepped over to Makoto before down so that his head was right above the Rider's helmet.

"Enjoy the future," Adel whispered.

Then the Emperor kicked the fallen Rider into the vortex, his body skidding across the ground before being swallowed up into the temporal tempest. Reimu and Takeru shortly followed, cast into the portal by Ganma soldiers.

Necrom had since risen, watching this whole ordeal with an oddly blank face. "Adel," he said. "What now?"

"Now?" Adel thought for a moment. Then he snapped. Necrom's eyes widened behind his mask as his arms were grabbed and forced behind him. He struggled, but the Ganma Superiors just held him there.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Necrom heard his sister's voice—and from the corner of his vision he could see her being handled with the same grace. "Adel, answer me!"

Adel laughed. "Oh, don't be fools. I can't have a commander who constantly fails and a sister who spies on me by my side, can I?"

"Unhand me at once!" Alia's demands went unanswered as she was unceremoniously shoved through the time-hole. Necrom couldn't believe what was going on. As he was dragged towards the vortex, he couldn't help but shout, "Adel! Why!? Why are you doing this!?"

Adel bent down, face-to-face with the struggling Necrom. "Oh, my dear brother," he cooed. "You're such a fool. Family doesn't matter. All that matters is who wins in the end."

"Even father?!" Necrom roared. "Father loved you! Why!?"

Adel sighed. "Alain, you really are stupid. Haven't you figured it out by now?" His eyes narrowed.

"I killed our father."

Alain could only stare in shock as he was shoved through the gate of time, Adel's last words ringing in his ears as he tumbled head-over-heels through the infinite void, until, at last, he was swallowed up by the waves of time.

Author's Note: Hello all. I apologize for my extended leave of absence. School started up again, and I kinda hit a writer's block. I'm not quite sure if I'm over it yet, but the ideas are flowing so that's at least some good news. In other words, I've gone back and fixed some things in the earlier chapters that I wasn't satisfied with. Thank you all for reading, and be sure to drop a review if you have any questions or suggestions.