Disclaimer: Emara: Emirates' Hero belongs to Fatma Almheiri and Eating Stars Studios. Kamen Rider belongs to Toei and Ishinomori. Any original characters (while may reference the aforementioned properties) are from the author.

AN: This is just a little fanfic idea about Eating Stars Studios' independent animated superhero series, Emara: Emirates' Hero, from the United Arab Emirates (UAE). The series aired back in May of this year (or Ramadan, going by the Islamic lunar calendar) on YouTube, where it still is available.

Emara is a fun series that focuses on the eponymous hero as she fights crime in her country, following has the typical superhero plot and formula, taken moreso from the Japanese heroes and anime. Given the references (or ripoffs-whatever suits you), I thought I write a little something. And what I have so far might be a small preview of the story I have in mind. With that said, enjoy!

The city of Dubai looked as lively at night as it did during the day. The call for prayer already came half an hour ago, and many who weren't working were heading to bed. For criminals and those who fought them, it was not time to sleep just yet. The latter was true for the hero of Dubai and the Emirates, Emara.

Said hero swung flew through the city on her grappling hook, her red and black cape billowing behind her. The thousands of lights blazing Dubai's streets made her stand out with her green uniform, white gloves, dark headscarf, and red beanie cap. Of course, no one bothered to look up to the girl swinging high above. Even if they did, Emara had no time for that, especially with the news she heard from the radios and television sets below.

"Breaking news: Daughter of foreign millionaire kidnapped in broad daylight-"

"Lost little girl in Dubai-"

"-taken while she with her grandfather-"

"-said to be missing after her parents filed a report-"

"-unable to immediately verify mysterious masked men behind the disappearance-"

"-kidnappers were recently spotted near the-"

Emara tugged her arm, disengaging her grappling hook. The hook itself retracted into her forearm arm, and the plates of the hulking cylinder shifted and reformatted back into her normal five-finger limb, as she fell atop the roof of a low-level building. The minute she landed, she went to the edge and stared through her orange, near-transparent goggles at the police cars waiting by the shop across.

Drat. She was too late.

Emara ducked her head to not be spotted. She, on the other hand, had a clear view of the police, and their big and buff head, waiting for some news. "She couldn't have gotten far," Emara heard Uncle-no, Chief-Jashim say into his radio. "Extend your search to the eastern sector. I want every man searching for her!"

Emara could only watch with curiosity. The missing girl wasn't here? The shop was the last place the she had been spotted, according to the news. Maybe there was some clue left behind.

After a quick glance, Emara took some steps back and ran, hopping from her rooftop to the shop's. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice her landing or entering through the roof's door latch. The inside seemed to be empty, though Emara quickly learned why.

"Ugh!"

Her nose cringed from the smell of damp wood so she quickly covered it. Searching around, Emara did her best not to inhale the terrible smell. She could tell from the cracks in the wall, floor, and even in the glass cases that the old shop had been abandoned long ago.

Unlike the fresh footprints on the floor.

Kneeling closer to the prints, and gagging from the horrid stench, Emara studied them. There were only three pairs-two were large and dark like soot, clearly different from the tiny feet dragging behind. Curious, Emara followed them while keeping her head down to not be seen by anyone.

The prints led across the shop, through the broken down doorways, and out to the alley. The minute she stepped out the back door, Emara noticed something other than the clearer air. She picked it from the ground and felt the soft fabric in her hand. The simple blue headscarf was a lot like her own, save for the dirtied marks and tears, and it no doubt belonged to the missing girl. Emara wondered about the scarf and hoped the girl it was meant for was in better condition.

As she held the headscarf, she noticed a pair of yellow eyes on her.

Emara whirled, her free hand shifting again into an advanced cannon. "I know you're there!" she called out to the eyes.

The eyes silently moved towards Emara, but they froze when she lit the the alley with the faint blue flow of her arm-cannon. "Step out nice and easy," she warned. "You don't want me to use this on you."

Slowly, the eyes listened. With those eyes came thick-booted legs and raised gloves, both made in blue. The dim light gleamed off the black-striped chest armor, thick shoulder guards, and dark undersuit. They, and the large white belt buckle, bulged under the bulky torso of the one wearing them. And those eyes, slanted and narrow like a cat's, shone from the faceless helmet they were imbedded into.

Emara eyed the "guy" standing a head taller than her. "Uh… okay?" she said, not sure how to take this stranger. "Just who are you?"

The blue man, hands still raised, said nothing. "Well, aren't you going to say anything?" Emara pressed for information.

Again, there was silence. In it, something clicked in Emara's head. She had never seen anyone like him before. It would be hard to miss a man in blue armor without gaining some attention, and Emara never heard of anyone like him… At least, not in Dubai.

At last, Emara asked a little gently, "You… aren't from around here, are you?"

She guessed correctly as the blue man shook his large head.

"Can you understand me?" To Emara's relief, the mystery man nodded. "Can you tell me what you're after?"

The blue man reached behind his back and held up a photograph. Emara saw a number of people, one of which she recognized. "That's…" she said and disengaged her arm-cannon.

Taking the photo in her hand, Emara looked at it. Standing happily beside a smiling old man was a little girl, a little too dark to be Arab and dressed in a dark gown and headscarf. Emara returned her goggled gaze at the blue man, who had lowered his arms.

"That's the missing girl. Are you looking for her too?" To Emara's relief, the blue man nodded. "Do you know where she is?"

She was presented with a slip of paper. Emara took it too and read what was written on it. It said: "Come alone, if you want her back."

A foreboding sense of dread dropped to Emara's stomach. Almost as a tap, tap brought her back to the stranger. His finger tapped on his massive chest before he pointed it at her.

"You need my help?" Emara asked, and there was another nod.

Not wanting to refuse the plea, Emara stared down again. Clutching the headscarf and photo in one hand, she flipped the note in her other. Her eyes widened at the scribbles, an address, on the back, and she exclaimed, "I know this place!"

The ground almost shook, and Emara was surprised to see the blue man simply a step forward. While he didn't say anything, Emara answered his unspoken question.

"I know this place. I can show you where it is…" she said then hesitated, "... only how are we going to get there?"

To that, the blue man reached for his buckle and flicked one of the many switches on it. The purr of an engine echoed, and a pair of headlights shone at the end of the back alley. Peeking over the blue man, Emara blinked at his old, azure-coated car.

"Oh."

Seconds later, the car drove into the streets of Dubai, leaving behind a trail of tire tracks.

AN: And that's what I have so far. The reason I wanted to write this story surrounding Emara is that the twist which has attracted the attention of many (myself included) to Emara: Emirates' Hero is that it came from and takes place in Middle East, adding nice of cultural aspects and giving a nice fresh break from the typical gloom that we in the West will see on in our media. Given certain aspects of Emara herself (what with her being Arab), I thought I'd add a little something, a superhero who has some similar cultural roots, is from another country, and is (of course) related to tokusatsu.

Turn to Indonesia (a country known for its love of tokusatsu) and this idea was born.

At the moment, this is just a rough draft, so it may look different if (or when) I ever publish this story (which will probably be a one-shot). Still, I would like to know what you all think about this idea. What are your thoughts and impressions of it?

As for the webseries itself, I would recommend it, since I'm a sucker for independent works. Even if the cultural aspects (i.e. the story taking place in the Middle East) don't interest you, it's still an interesting series with pretty decent animation and nice action when called for. Plus, there are only about five episodes so far, each being ten minutes at most. Also, it is also available in English, formal Arabic (the "universal" Arabic used in media and books), and informal Arabic (Arabic that uses dialects and is used in typical conversations), so you do get to choose sub or dub.

Raika out.