Chapter 13: A Wrinkle in Time
The first thing Reimu noticed was the wind. The biting gusts bit into her with a hot, dry heat that was completely unpleasant. She twitched, and suddenly she was able to feel sand covering most of her body and scratching her face. She groaned and shifted, her attempts to rise shaking the fine rock off of her. She blinked blearily, before noticing that her body was in an incredible amount of pain. She winced, and quit trying to dig herself out. For a moment she just lay there, breathing heavily. Deciding that she should probably start moving, she lifted her head to take a look around.
"The Ganma's World?" she muttered, her vision filled with naught but endless red sand. Off in the distance she could see red cliffs loom above the desert. The sky was a nasty shade of orange, and a dull sun cut through the oddly-colored atmosphere. It certainly looked like the World of the Ganma, all right. It just didn't feel right, though.
Whatever it was, she needed to get moving. After some amount of struggle, she finally managed to free her aching body from the grip of the dunes. She stretched, grimacing as pain lanced through her frame. Though she knew she couldn't die, she gave herself a one-over. Looks like the fire didn't leave any marks, oddly enough.
She shook the sand out of her skirt before rising slightly into the air. She floated around a bit, looking about. "Hey, Takeru! Makoto! Where you at!?" she shouted, cupping her hands over her mouth. No response save the wind came back to her. She shrugged and tried again.
A half hour later founder her perched atop the dune she woke up in, head in her hands. They couldn't die—well, Takeru couldn't, at least—but it would be a problem finding them, she grumbled to herself. She lazily glanced over to her left, and nearly shot up in surprise.
Makoto's dark blue sweats were instantly recognizable, even all the way down at the base of the large hill of sand. She touched down and hurriedly began to dig him out. "Hey, Makoto, wake up!" she gently shook him after clearing him of enough sand.
The elder Fukami struggled awake. "Reimu?" he said hoarsely. "Izzat you?"
"Duh," she said with relief. "You're okay."
"Duh," he snorted. He moaned as he tried to sit up. "Ow, my everything hurts."
"Well, you did receive the worst of that . . . thing's attack," Reimu said as she helped him up. "I don't assume you know what it is, do you?"
"Not a clue," he said. He glanced around the horizon, looking for the last member of their crew. "Where's Takeru?"
"No clue. He should be around, however."
Yet another short period of time later, and Takeru was rescued from the grasp of the sand, similar complaints of . . . relatively mild discomfort falling from his lips.
"So, where are we?" he asked after he finished complaining about his burns.
"It looks like the Ganma's World," Reimu replied, frowning. "But it doesn't feel like it."
"Adel said something to me before I was thrown in." Makoto's words caught his partners' attention. "He said something about the future. But this looks nothing like Earth!"
Reimu shrugged. "I know plenty of people who have the power to turn cities to dust. Heck, it's my job to keep 'em in line. So it's not impossible."
"I don't like it," Makoto declared.
"Neither do I," Reimu sighed. "You're sure we're in the future?"
"Until we see proof, we won't know for sure," Takeru said. "It's a waste to think about things like this."
The other two nodded and looked about, searching for any kind of cover. Reimu floated up to the top of the hill, Takeru close behind.
"See anything?" panted Makoto when he finally reached the top.
"Nothing yet. I don't think we'll be able to make those cliffs anytime soon," Reimu said, hands over her eyes as she scanned the desert.
"Hey, what's that?" Takeru pointed down the slope to the other side. He slid down the hill, kneeling down to get a closer look.
"What is it?" Reimu asked as she touched down. She then paused. Takeru was holding a person, clad in a black military uniform, with an odd device strapped around his wrist.
"Alain," she muttered. She knelt by the ghost hunter. "Takeru, you sure about this?"
He let out a breath. "I don't like him. He hurt you guys and he doesn't care about human life. But he's still as much a victim in these circumstances as we are. We can't just leave him to die."
"He killed you too, you know."
He shrugged. "For some reason, I don't care much about that part. Must because I hang out with such a weird ghost all the time."
Despite herself, Reimu smiled. "Brat."
Makoto appeared from the top of another dune. "Guys, come quick." His expression hardened when he saw Alain, but he shook his head. "I found Princess Alia."
They dragged Alain up the slope and laid him next to the excavated Alia. They looked . . . peaceful, almost, despite having been sent to their deaths through the same wormhole they did. "So, what now?" Reimu asked.
"We wait for them to wake up," Makoto said. He leaned over, studying their prone forms. "Then we make them answer for their crimes."
Alain snapped up, causing Makoto to jerk back and fall into a fighting stance. To his side his sister did the same. For a few tense seconds, four pairs of eyes all glared at each other, hands raised in defense. Then after a moment Reimu sighed and hung her head. "Okay, quit it. It's not the time for that crap."
Alia slowly put her hands down, as did Makoto. Alain only put his down after Alia put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "What's going on?" she asked—demanded, rather.
"Adel tossed us through this weird hole, and now there's Ganma Desert everywhere," Makoto said curtly. "We were looking for cover before we ran into you sorry lot."
Alain made to speak but Alia held out her hand. "It seems we share a common goal for now," she started. "I propose a truce. Neither one of us makes a move on the other, at least until we put my brother back in his proper place."
"I don't see why we should have to work with that traitor," Alain spat, glaring daggers at Makoto.
"Why should I listen to a murderer?" Makoto growled back.
"You betrayed your home!"
"You killed my friends!"
"Uh, guys?" Takeru spoke up nervously. He had fallen back to the edge of the dune, and was now looking at something on the horizon. "Something's coming."
The four went to join him. Sure enough, a red cloud of dust was billowing up with great volume—and heading their way with incredibly speed.
"We should get going," Reimu declared, and four heads nodded. They took off running in the opposite direction, the two ghosts flying above the sands while other three had no problem navigating the dunes they were raised in. Yet even as they ran they could feel the ground tremble beneath them.
"It's getting closer!" Makoto yelled. "We should transform!"
"I tried!" Reimu yelled back. "It's not working!"
Makoto and Alain summoned their Drivers and activated the sequence. However, nothing happened. They dashed away, but it was too late. With an explosion of sand, a massive jaw emerged, snapping at the air. Teeth a foot long cut through the air like knives, and what followed look like the mix of some kind of shark and a lizard. It crashed back down, splashing sand as it burrowed back into the dunes.
"What was that?!" Takeru yelped.
"I don't know!" Makoto yelled. "Alain!"
"Don't look at me!" the Ganma Prince snapped. "I'm just in the dark as you are!"
The ground rumbled, and the beast leaped out of a dune, mouth open, as it dove towards Makoto and Alain.
Takeru and Alia cried out, and Reimu shot forward. But she wasn't fast enough.
The beast's jaws snapped closed, and it hit the sand, slicing into it as a whale into water.
"Alain!" "Makoto!" Alia and Takeru rushed over to where their friends had just been standing. Reimu looked on in shock. Already two of their number had fallen?
"W-what was that?!" Makoto's shocked voice came from the side. They turned, and the two were still reeling from the near miss, shock upon their faces. A cloaked figure stood above them.
"Who are you?" Alain asked. The figure pulled down the hood, revealing light brown hair and the face of a young man.
"You okay?" he asked. They nodded and he let out a breath of relief. "Good. Wait here."
He stepped out into the clearing, even as the ground shook. From his cloak he drew a long blade which glowed with an ethereal light. As the beast burst out of the ground, he dashed forward, his sword flashing in the crimson light. A splatter of blood on the sands, and the beast cried out in pain, diving back into the sands in surprise.
"It'll come back soon. Let's make our move," he said, stowing his sword away. The group followed him with some slight trepidation, and they ran across the red sands. Reimu didn't know for how long they ran—it seemed like hours, and the sun was still high in the sky—but eventually they came across the ruins of a building, its structure faded away to the wind and sands. Its rusted exterior offered some protection against the elements, at least.
After the five had caught their breath, the stranger stood up in front of them. "Y'all are probable wondering where you are," he started, "and how I found you so quickly."
"Something like that," Alia nodded.
"I'm part of a group who rescues people from the badlands," he said. "You can call me Ayumu. We picked up the signal of a temporal disturbance and I went to check it out. Then I came across you guys bein' attacked by a Gundari."
Alia frowned. "Gundari? But they look nothing of the sort."
Ayumu raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "That's the way they look 'round these parts. Dunno where you folks are from, but I guess it don't matter much." He nodded. "Anyways, welcome to Earth. Any other questions will have to wait 'till we get to base."
Reimu shared a glance with the others. So it wasn't the Ganma's World after all. "Pardon my asking, but what year is it?" Alia spoke up once again.
"Right, you folks fell through a time-hole," he nodded. "Uh, in the Year of the Great Eye, it's 1056 N.A."
"What about A.D.?" Takeru asked.
Ayumu glanced upwards, thinking. "I'd reckon 2046," he said.
"That answers that," Reimu muttered. "We're in the future."
Ayumu led them to the upper structure of the fallen building, where he raised his sword and spoke into a hand-radio. After a few moments, a light surrounded the party, and when the glare faded they found themselves in an artificially-lit room the size of a gymnasium. All around them crates were stacked, and people bustled about, keeping busy. They were lead through twisting hallways to a medical bay, where a mature-looking doctor with unkempt hair and a bit of stubble was waiting.
"Dr. Hojo," he greeted. "Five from the time-hole."
"Thank you," Hojo thanked him. He turned to the time-travellers. "I'm Emu Hojo, a doctor here. I'm going to perform a few scans to make sure you haven't contracted anything."
He brought out an odd stethoscope-like device, with a strange machine replacing the chestpiece. He ran the contraption over them several times before turning it off and nodding. He had them all step into a strange box-like machine for another scan, and the last look-over was taken in an MRI-like device.
"You're good to go," the doctor told them. "Head down the hall there and make a left into those brass double doors. Ayumu, I want a word with you really quick."
Alia leading them, they quickly found their way in a moderately large conference room. There were a few people all seated around the table, all dressed in worn attire. They quickly took their place in some empty seats. The doors opened a few minutes later to reveal Dr. Hojo and Ayumu, along with three other men in white labcoats. They took their places, and a grizzled old man rose.
"So, you're the time travelers," he said simply. "We'll get to the point. I am Cormano. I am the leader of this ragtag group of misfits." Reimu swore she heard a few small chuckles, but when she looked about everyone's faces were emotionless.
"For better or for worse, you're stuck after the end of the world, I'm sorry to say." Reimu had suspected as much, but to hear it outright was still shocking. Out of the corner of her eye she saw similar reactions among her companions—shock and confusion. "The vast majority of the world lies in the iron grip of the Great Emperor, as he calls himself. Free will is prohibited, and humans are merely resources to get what he wants." He sat down, and a girl in a pastel dress with pink hair rose.
"I'm Poppy," she said. "Now, you've all been scanned for any illness or physical defect in your body—we can't have that spreading here. We also screened you for mind control from the Great Emperor. You passed, which is why you are here. Now that you know your situation, any questions?"
Reimu stood. "So this is really Earth, huh? What exactly happened?"
Poppy nodded and began the tale of the end of the world.
Thirty-two years ago, a disease broke out among the populace. It was an odd thing, possessing qualities of a computer virus, yet still managing to harm organic life. One side-effect of the disease was the manifestation of video game characters in real life, called Bugsters. A team of doctors attempted to curb the threat, but as soon as things started to look up . . .
A massive being, straight out of a kaiju movie, appeared in Japan one day, right off the coast. The few who remember seeing it—the few who are left sane, that is—remember a demented mockery of a man, with vile tendrils for hands and a single, massive white eye in place of a head. It laid waste to Japan, and soon went onto wreak a trail of destruction across the earth. The Earth fought back valiantly, its armed forces and metahumans putting up a surprisingly good fight. In the end, however, the eldritch titan known as the Great Emperor won the day, and 70% of the world's heroes died. Over the next twenty years, 65% of the general human population perished, and 45% of the remaining population would fall under the Great Emperor's control. The surviving populace live in domed cities, scattered across the world, protected from the corruption of the abomination and the harsh elements by etherial domes created from the heroic sacrifices of those who fought the beast.
This group is known as the Riders of Freedom, a resistance group located in the Domed City of Tachibana. Cormano leads these freedom fighters as they slowly build up their strength, hoping one day to storm the Emperor's City, A'gmhnxykh-C'q'mULa.
Not all hope was lost, however. Nonhuman races from all across the world have joined together with humanity under a united banner to survive after the end. Youkai, humans, Roidmudes and more—all living together in the same city, holding hands as they face the future.
Poppy finished her tale, smiling. "And that's why we're here. To rebuild humanity humanity—and non-humanity—after the end."
After a moment of silence, Alia spoke up. "What happened to the Ganma kingdom?"
"Huh?" Poppy tilted her head.
"The Ganma Kingdom. Certainly you must have encountered some Ganma around, have you not?" she asked.
Poppy nodded. "There are Ganma around, to be sure. However, the kingdom of which you speak perished when the end of the world came about . . . or so they say. Apparently most of them were wiped out twenty years ago."
Alia, for her credit, simply nodded. "I see," she said quietly.
With that over, the five were excused, and they made their way out.
"Sister . . . ." Alain began.
"I know, Alain," Alia sighed.
"But where was the Great Eye throughout all of this?" he pressed. "We had its blessing! Didn't we?"
"I don't know, Alain," came the reply.
"Hold up, you two," Emu's voice came from behind them. Emu and Ayumu strode up to them, the latter having switched from desert cloak to combat pants and an orange jacket. "You three go on ahead. We just want to ask them a few questions."
Reimu, Makoto and Takeru nodded and left, not particularly caring what happened to their former enemies. Alia and Alain were left with the two resistance members.
"For what do you require our presence?" Alia inquired, her posture formal. Alain adopted a similar one as well.
"I'll cut right to the chase," Ayumu said. "You two are Ganma royalty, aren't you."
Alia blinked her surprise as Alain frowned. "Yes, indeed. Why?"
"The scan earlier told us that you were Ganma. That, and you have the very likeness of the late Prince and Princess of the Ganma Kingdom." Ayumu's eyes narrowed. "Just a word of warning. You might find that despite everyone coming together, people aren't so accepting of Ganma around here. After all, they're the cause of all this."
"What do you mean?" Alain asked.
Alia was silent for a moment. "Adel," she concluded.
Emu nodded. "It was something Adel did that summoned the Great Emperor to the world. Eventually, he was killed, and the monster he created was unleashed upon the world."
The two siblings were silent. "He deserves it," Alain muttered.
"Alain!" Alia said sharply.
"He killed our father!" Alain couldn't take it anymore. "He's the one who did all of this!"
Alia closed her eyes. "So, it was him."
"You knew?"
"Suspected. I didn't bring it up because . . . well, he was the king and all." The eldest Ganma sibling sighed. "I apologize, Dr. Hojo, Ayumu. It's all just so much at once."
Ayumu nodded. "I understand. I must apologize as well. I didn't mean to place so much on you at once—I thought just to warn you that the rest of the base might be a bit on-edge."
Alia made to respond, but then a klaxon blared through the base. "Emergency," a voice shouted over a communications system. "First barrier breach. Swarm of Ocumalds incoming." The voice then rattled off a series of coordinates.
"Hold that thought," Ayumu said. "Can you fight?"
"Yes," Alain replied.
"No," Alia amended, holding up her transformation brace. "It's not working."
"We have standard weaponry," Ayumu said, turning to Emu. "Send them to go with Hanaya and Kujo," he said. "I'll be out in my normal spot."
Emu nodded. "Come, this way."
The pair followed the doctor, who led them past squads of hurried men to a hangar. Inside the hangar were two other doctors—one had a skunk-stripe in his hair and military boots to match his camo pants, while the other wore his white labcoat on the outside as if it were a fashion statement. Skunk-stripe seemed to be around Emu's age, if not older, while the other was around their own.
Skunk-stripe also sported a rather impressive full beard.
"Dr. Kujo, Dr. Hanaya," Emu introduced them, "meet Alain and Alia. They'll be with your squad."
The one with the skunk-stripe snorted. "Great, fresh meat."
"Relax, man," the other said. "It should be fine."
The old man snorted. "Whatever." He tossed the Ganma Royalty a pair of blackened rifles. "Ammo's on that wall. If you want to live, don't get hit."
"Jeez, that's great advice," the other snorted. "Ignore him, he's just a grumpy old man."
"Shut it, Kiriya Kujo."
"Whatever, Doctor Taiga," Kiriya smirked behind his sunglasses. "Anyhoo, if you're out here, you know how to fight. Don't die, and you get to eat tonight."
Alain scoffed. "I won't die so easily."
"Great," Taiga nodded. He nodded, and a light akin to the teleportation glow from earlier shone in the room. "Let's go!"
In the ruins of a city street, Makoto followed behind an elderly clean-shaven Japanese man in a lab coat and suit—Dr. Hiiro Kagami. Thankfully, he and the other two Riders were able to summon their Ganflame weapons, so they could still fight even without the suit. He briefly wondered if they were still summoning from wherever they lay last. Maybe where their bodies in this time rested.
Dismissing such thoughts, he slung the Ganflame Rifle across his back and gripped the Ganflame Scythe. "Orders?"
Hiiro regarded him cooly. "You are to support me from afar. You don't have the defense necessary to survive a hit from these things." He held a strange green object up to his waist, and a belt shot out, wrapping around him. He brought out a strange rectangle from his labcoat pocket and held it out. He pressed it, eliciting a garishly cheerful "Taddle Quest!" from the device that reminded Makoto of his belt's own choruses.
"Henshin," he stated matter-of factly, sliding the device into the belt. He pulled open a lever on the belt, opening it up.
"Click and load!" the belt sang, even as a . . . character select screen from a video game? swirled around him. Hiiro thrust his hand out to the left, selecting a character, and a rectangle of data phased through him. Armor formed around him and the belt continued to chant.
A knight of old now stood before Makoto, buckler on his arm and flaming sword in his hand.
"Come!" he said, charging forward. Makoto let out a yell as he charged alongside the rest of the fighters gathered, adrenaline surging through his veins. With a loud noise, they fell upon the horde.
Reimu brought her shotgun to bear, blasting away a creature. These things were like zombies—they seemed to be made out of shadow, and they crawled upon all fours. These perversions of the human figure kept coming from every angle, seemingly endlessly.
"Do keep up," an annoyingly amused voice said. Reimu rolled her eyes at her company: a man in red-and-blue armor wielding an odd drill-shaped gun. "I've got the formula for our victory, and I'd hate to adjust it based on your death."
"Gee, thanks," she muttered.
Sento Kiryu grinned behind his mask. "Incoming!"
Another one of those zombies had crashed into the clearing where they fought. It was larger than the most, and stood upon two feet. Upon its face it wore a white mask engraved with an odd symbol—something Reimu couldn't make out from there. It tilted its head back in a voiceless howl, and leapt at the young woman.
She rolled out of the way, blasting away with her shotgun. Her barrage stunned it, causing it to stumble—yet it continued as if she had never shot it in the first place. She backed up, blasting it with wave after wave of fire—yet still it came.
"What's up with this thing!?" she shouted, leaping out of the way of a leaping attack.
"Ah, that!" Sento nodded. "It's like the zombie-things, but tougher."
"I can see that," Reimu took her frustrations out on the creature by throwing a sword at it, "but what is it?"
"A vengeful spirit! A temporal anomaly! The manifestation of mankind's sins!" Sento cheerfully kicked a monster in the face. "But I, in my genius, have figured it out! The members of an ancient civilization, warped beyond comprehension by an evil power! Tragically doomed to serve for an eternity, trapped within their own minds! The only thing scarier is my own intellect!"
Reimu rolled her eyes, retrieving her fallen sword before punching the thing in the mask. "Stay down!"
"You know what the really sad thing is?" Sento began.
"No," Reimu replied, not caring.
"Their own god turned on them! The Great Emperor, who promised them life immortal, changed them into mindless slaves!" Sento sighed, shooting a monster with his drill-gun. "How lamentable."
Reimu rolled her eyes again before plunging her sword through the thing's chest. It twitched, and then went still. Making sure the thing was dead, she squatted down, peering at its mask. It was oddly familiar—the lines created a swirling circle, leaving a hollow space in the center.
Almost like an eye.
Reimu's eyes widened, the info Sento had just told her clicking together. It all started to make sense.
"It really is a tragedy," the physicist nodded somberly as the blackened shapes fled, "the plight of the Ganma."
Takeru glanced worriedly at his companions. Reimu had delivered them all grave news, and, from the looks of it, Alain and Alia had pieced things together themselves as well. The Ganma Royalty were in the corner of the mess hall they were in, dealing with the fact that their entire world had just crashed down around them.
"Your friend's takin' this pretty hard, huh?" Sento Kiryu asked. The elderly physicist was, despite his age, as full of pep as his younger comrades.
"Kiryu, shut up," an equally-elderly man in a sweatshirt told him.
"Ryuga, you're no fun."
"I don't care, shut up."
"Give it a rest, you two," Emu Hojo sighed. He approached, flanked by the man in the suit from the meeting room. "Sento, Kiriya needs you in the west wing. Ryuga, Cormano in the north."
As the two men left, the doctor turned to Takeru. "I apologize for his behavior. He's got a tendency to be like that."
"Apologize to me," Reimu complained. "I had to put up with him."
Emu put a hand on her shoulder before facing the group. "So you all have a connection to the Ganma, huh?"
"Yeah," Takeru admitted. "Back where . . . when we came from, we fought them to prevent them from taking over the world. Even with all of the horrible stuff they did, I wouldn't want this to happen to them."
"Speak for yourself," Makoto huffed. "They deserved it."
Emu looked sharply at the elder Fukami, who simply stared stubbornly back. He sighed. "Just don't let any of the Ganma refugees hear that. They're having a hard enough time as it is." He shook his head. "But enough of that. From what you told us earlier, you fight folks use the Ghost Drivers, correct?"
Takeru nodded, thinking back to what they were asked before they deployed. "How did you know?"
"I . . . fought with some people who used them a long time ago. They were part of the founding members of the resistance." Emu's eyes closed in a painful remembrance. "But that was a long time ago. Dan has . . . offered to repair your Drivers so that you may use them again."
The suited man scoffed. "So you say."
"Thank you," Takeru bowed with the other Riders. "But why did they stop working in the first place?"
"Temporal anomaly," Dan said. "Or something close. The force that threw you back through time reversed the spiritual polarity of the device, interfering with the phantasmal subroutine of the transformation sequence."
"Huh?"
"It messed up your Driver," Dan repeated. The Riders "Aaah"d in understanding. "A difficult thing to repair, to be sure. BUT! It is a simple task for one such as me, the GAME MASTER!"
Dan broke off into a peal of villainous laughter. Takeru glanced at Emu. "Is he . . . ?"
"Always like this? Unfortunately." The eldely doctor sighed. "Ignore him, he's got a tendency to rant."
Takeru nodded. It was certainly convenient that they'd be able to fight again straightaway, but he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. He bowed, and was about to head back to the space he was given for his stay here. Reimu, however, had other plans.
"When you said the Ghost Drivers had a previous user," the ghost began, "what do you mean? Who were the previous users?"
Emu once more closed his eyes. "My comrades-in-arms from a previous age. One was Ayumu's father, the other was the mother of Rei—another Resistance member. There were a few more, but they all died nearly thirty years ago."
Takeru felt a chill run through him. "What were their names?"
"Takeru Tenkuji, Reimu Hakurei, and Makoto Fukami," Emu began. He let out a breath. "The Ghost Riders." Emu squinted. "Speaking of which, I never did catch yours. In all the haste we forgot to get your names."
Takeru gulped. "Takeru Tenkuji."
"Reimu Hakurei," Reimu grit out.
"Makoto Fukami," Makoto whispered.
Emu paled. "Oh. Oh dear."