The boy was twelve years old when he fell victim to despair.

"No, stop it!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. The secret, emerald cove had been defiled by unruly brutes who sought nothing more in this world than destruction. They stomped and declared meaningless victory over robbing two innocent souls of their happiness, of their hope. "Please, stop!" The boy cried, but to no avail. He found not the strength to stand and watched idly as they continued. What was thought to be their slice of the world shared by only them was now a graveyard stained with piles of dirt scratched at the bottom of worn boots.

Born from a warrior, the daughter of the Fortunate Man played the hero in the boy's stead. "I won't allow you to take our home!" She cried, waving her hand as an Emperor who commands the ocean to cease their waves would. "I order you to stop, in the name of Celestice!" With hearts half the size of a man, and muscles twice the size, these savages no older than either of them continued their tirade. She fought valiantly, but to no avail. Failing in her quest, the young girl fell victim to the dark strength of these bullies and collapsed beneath the crushed daisies.

A great rage stirred in his heart, and with fleeting courage, the boy got to his feet and gave it his best shot - but even he could not match them. Oh, what was he to think? He always came last place. Neither his arms nor heart were tools to stop them, and as his options diminished so did his hope. With nothing left to use, the boy fell into despair.

That day under the white sun, the boy and the rest of the island discovered something that would forever change the course of his destiny. Under stirring violet clouds, a great storm gathered in his vicinity and black winds began to swirl around the sea of trees.

The beginning of his end came to fruition as he succumbed to a primal surge of power that called to his name. An alternative to death lay in front of him if he could not find it in himself to answer that call. A mighty dormant beast that had been born in the abyss of his soul found its reason to awaken from a deep slumber, and as stars shimmered beneath his bright, terrifying eyes, the monster tasted its first whiff of fresh air.

The creature was so terrifying that it scared the barbarians all the way back to their holes, far away from the final paradise that the children had created.

"What have you done?!" The Fortunate man shouted, ferociously shaking his daughter upon arrival. A tremendous amount of raw power emanated from the being before them. "Say, have you no care for your own life?!"

The boy's father refused to listen. "Have you gone mad?!" Carefully, he approached what he held doubts to what was his son, and when kindness only dealt a nasty burn across his chest that he would be reminded of every day, knights surrounded him and in their retaliation, were able to subdue them. Beyond that point, nothing was the same.

Flowers never bloomed in that grove again. Only the wilting embers of what once was remained.

The Sabbath, the day the boy named Haruto Soma died. Even now, nearly a year later, his soul remained on that lone white beach. Every time he closed his eyes he could see it. Beyond the dark void, a shimmering gold ring of dejection shined on him. The headless screams of men and women, boys and girls – old and… and he didn't want to think of it, but he did. Arms clawed at his shoulders, tearing his skin apart as his heart eroded from the inside. It had only been a few moments, but a millennium had passed in his heart. Ages of fighting against something – no, someone he would rather run from. Oh, if only it were that easy. It's never that easy.

Every single day since then has been a battle, in his dreams he clung to jagged walls and climbed with scrapes across his blue bruised arms. Hundreds of the lost stuck to one another as shapeless amalgamations of forsaken flesh, sinking their teeth into his legs, coating this hole in a viscous blanket of crimson blood. Between the aching cuts and the freezing black blotches that wrapped themselves around his twisting fingers, he yearned for release; a chance to end his suffering and join the crowd.

Yet, he still climbed. Again, and again he reached the surface and found himself under the warm white sun, catching his breath as grains of sand kissed his wounds. No matter how much it hurt, he wouldn't submit. As one of the survivors of the Sabbath, Haruto owed it to the victims to fight against their Phantoms, allowing them to finally rest after a tragedy that never seems to sleep. It was by his will that he survived, and it was his choice to take up the mantle of Kamen Rider, sacrificing any dream he had left of a normal life so that he could right this unnatural wrong of the world. That is what maintained his hope: that it was his choice, and will always be.

That's different now. What last shred he had was dwindling by the minute as he writhed in pain. There were no walls now. There was no floor. There was no one left. What use was it? To wander in this hole, where no step was ever truly his own – and going nowhere that he wanted? His beginning and his end was not his own to choose. If it was true, and that all of his triumphs, every loss, every victory was some fool's game he was the star player for – then what good were his efforts if not his own?! What was he possibly living on for if this wasn't a life of his own?! Did those people deserve to die?! Did he deserve to die?! Why didn't he… why didn't he…

"Die?" A low, haunting voice crept from behind between his ears. "Are you waiting for my permission to roll over and die, Haruto Soma?" It was the one person he never wanted to see: Dragon, his phantom. "Tell me, are you so pathetic you can't possibly make the last choice for your life?"

"What…" Haruto winced, his heart felt like it was going to tear itself out of his chest. "What difference… would… that make?"

"I suppose there is no difference." Dragon cackled like a hyena. "I must admit, you were a formidable opponent. For a while, I had given up. No matter how hard I try, you pressed on against my wishes. I was nothing without you. Although, looking back on it, you were nothing without me."

"S-shut up…" Haruto spoke through his teeth, biting down on his tongue.

"All it took was one fable for you to finally submit." Dragon swirled around him in taunting spirals, beckoning for his spirit to collapse in on itself. "Regardless, whether the story ends here or not, it's a beautiful tragedy. How can you be so heartless as to leave your friends to die?"

"Don't talk like you understand my heart!" Haruto shouted at the top of his lungs, his rich voice echoing against every corner of this endless hellscape.

"Oh, ho ho… How could I not?" Dragon muttered. "Have you forgotten, Haruto Soma? You cannot hide from me, for we're one in the same."

"... If I believed that, would it change anything?" Haruto asked.

"Not in this state. Tell me, what does it matter if this tale is a true story?" Dragon replied. Much to Haruto's surprise, he didn't expect such a thought provoking question out of a monster. "If you die here, what chance is it I will follow some meaningless legend? I seek the truest being in myself, and that does not include bowing down to some bloodbath that means to exude my fun."

"B-but… It says.."

"Forget what it says!" The foul beast shouted. "It's not suited to my style. Since when have I given the impression that my form resembles a groveling dog who needs to be tied to the leash of fate? When you die here, I will continue my business far away from this island."

Haruto laughed. "D-didn't… take you to be… such a coward."

"Do I have a chain around my neck, cauterizing my every move of insolence? It isn't my fight." Dragon stood before him. "But it is yours, isn't it?"

"What do you mean by that…?" He asked, barely able to catch his breath.

"Was someone whispering in your ear to slay that first phantom? Did a hand wrap around your wrist and raise a blade that would inspire hope among countless? Tell me, Haruto Soma, was someone every step of the way pulling on your strings to act in each waking moment of your life?!"

"I don't know!" Haruto screamed.

"If you aren't sure, then can you say for certain?" Dragon asked. "All the joy, all the rage and fear and sorrow, do you feel it?"

"Yes…" He whispered, quivering. "All of it."

"Then it belongs to you. These emotions move you, guide your actions. These choices are yours and yours alone, regardless of some fairy tale."

"And if they're not?" In a quiet, whimpering voice that cried out in a never-ending stream of tears for release.

"What does it matter? Better to play as someone else's hero than to be their monster." Disappearing into a pile of dust, Dragon's ashes swirled in circles around the void, twinkling as bright stars to light up the dark. The pain ceased. A million weights were lifted off of Haruto's heart, and he was able to breathe once more.

"You sure are a strange person, Dragon." A ring was in his hands. It was blue, and sparkling like bundles of diamonds. Yes, he remembered now. The power of infinity in his palms. A power born from deep inside his heart, a power of his phantom, a power of himself. A gift, bestowed upon him by his own choice to be kind. It was his choice, yes. It may not have been his choice to become a wizard, but on that beach that day as Koyomi drifted away from him, it was his choice above all else to keep going – right until he could see neither light nor darkness again.

If it was true, and this was all someone's twisted plot, it didn't change the fact that his call to action – whether or not he moved of his own accord, was not a mistake. Fate or not, if Haruto chose not to act then people died. The Dragon & the Kirin was not going to change the fact that this island was in grave danger, and he wasn't going to falter here. Not when they needed him the most, and certainly not when he needed her the most.

The shackles of fate felt loose around his wrists. He was able to stand again, and above his head stood the entrance back to reality. From the back of his shoulder blades, enormous dragon wings sprouted out of his body! No more climbing, and no more doubt. Too much was on the line to fall now. If he was destined to die up there, or if some old folk tale was stringing him along an ancient goose chase, that wasn't clear. Whoever Haruto Soma was, only one thing was certain.

"I am the last hope."

THE EMPEROR'S PALACE

The new Emperor grew tired of waiting around. Wait, wait and wait – all Genichiro had ever done his whole life was wait. The preparations for the celebration would be finished before sunrise, but the knowledge of that did nothing to stop the stirring within his own heart. It kept bothering him, the thought of the morning. For years, he had hoped to see the light again, but given the chance it did nothing to give him comfort. "Have I not wallowed as deeply as one could reach beneath the surface?" He muttered to himself, circling his chalice around.

"All you have to do is wait a little longer." Fiore said, placing her hand onto his. It was cold, but with a little care she could warm it up. "Today is your day, Genichiro: the island is yours."

Without warning, Genichiro tossed the chalice across the room. It splattered into a supporting pillar, shattering into many pieces. "My apologies." He sighed, getting to his feet. "Do excuse my manners."

"Over that?" Fiore laughed. "That is nothing. Nothing here in this palace is worth more than your freedom!"

"An Emperor is nothing without his fortune."

"You of all people should know that fortune is not the power of the Emperor." Fiore said, twirling her brindled hair. She had to admit, it was quite boring sitting back and awaiting the revisions for the ceremony, but the stirring was bringing more pain to him than she could imagine. For someone who had regained their right to walk on these lands, he wasn't spending the opportunity as greatly as she expected. "An Emperor needs to know his island. After all, how can he expect to seize power over a region he is unfamiliar with?"

"Are you expecting me to take a stroll under a siege?"

"It's been ten years, Gen." Fiore snidely stuck her tongue out. "A lot can change. Remind yourself of how deeply this island has missed you."

Magic was not her forte, but her words were a miracle in action. As she passed the blinking of eager eyes, Genichiro was gone.

SPIRAL PRISON

Soft, auburn eyes shined their light over the creases of the dark void that held tightly to those who abandoned all hope and will come to accept the passing of many moons as though the paradigm of nature has altered to present the ones who were once graced by the sun a new piece of life that exists as remnants of restless peace. Performing their hollow repertoire day by day, the former citizens of Celestice who built this kingdom on the backings of blood and chaos have resigned all thought of freedom to keep them company after mere hours of imprisonment.

"I will return hope to this island." He whispered, staring at his clenched fist. "Fate or fiction, it doesn't matter. I'll play the hero."

"He's alive ~ !" Out of the blue, Shunpei dived straight into him, tackling him to the floor for a gigantic hug. Tears streamed down his face as he clung tightly onto the magician, sniffling into his shoulder. "Haruto… I can't believe it…" He was unable to form coherent sentences, speaking through broken fixtures of sentences. For as obnoxious as he could be at times, Shunpei had never come across as more sincere than he did now. Instead of rejecting him, he embraced his companion in a tender hug.

"Y-you really had us… going there." Rinko, who was holding her arms over her eyes, said in a shaky voice. She fell to her knees and rested her head on his shoulder. "Don't you dare try to leave anytime soon!" The detective sang the blues into his side. "Please."

"Not a chance." Haruto replied, pulling them close together. Never was he going to submit to his doubt and deny his purpose again. The magician had their reason for living, and it was his, but it wasn't just his own anymore. Despite how chilly the subterranean cell was, his friends were quite warm. He half expected Koyomi to join them, but then he remembered. Glancing around, he saw that she was resting in the arms of the General of all people.

Letting go of his support, Haruto got to his feet and wandered over towards the cell door. The bars were sturdy metal that he wasn't going to break. At least, not without his magic. There was a point in his life where he figured that magic was all he could do, but there was value in not just his kindness, but his will – and that resolve told him to keep going. Find a way out. Every puzzle has a solution, even the oldest ones. "We have to reach the surface."

"Just how do you plan on doing that?" The Emperor asked, wondering if the madness had finally seeped in. "We have no magic, boy."

"This prison wasn't constructed with magic." Haruto replied with a smile. "Besides, one man broke out. The chances of another aren't impossible."

"Oh, I might have a few tricks up my sleeve." Rinko interjected. "I like to believe I know a thing or two about prisons." She said casually, shrugging her shoulders as though this knowledge was no big deal.

"Maybe if we all put our heads together we can come up with something." Shunpei suggested, and the three of them were now sitting in a circle.

"Now, it's planning time." Haruto said, holding out his hand with the shimmering flame ring. The Emperor watched in a deep, cynical mysticism. Just how far was this plague of the mind willing to extend, and would he too succumb to it before long? All the while, the loyal General Shima gazed at them with sparks in his eyes that had not been ignited for years. Even on the edge of death and despair, none of them gave up no matter how hopeless it appeared. All for an island that had them locked up. Was this the power of the dragon? Was it not strength, but the innate belief of a better world that gave power to such a creature?

"Well, the Chief told me back when he was a correctional officer that he used to watch over prisons. He saw scuffles here and there, but the only time serious trouble happened was when the situation was totally out of control." Rinko started, thinking back to all the lectures she used to get during lunchtime – most of them unprompted, and very rarely focused on, but in these trying times was greatly appreciated. "All you need is one good start to a riot, and the rest of the system topples."

"Oh, I think I've seen that in movies!" Shunpei interrupted, agreeing with the idea. He's always wanted to be a part of a huge crowd fighting for a great cause. "I can't believe it works."

"I-I've never seen it for myself!" Rinko said, not wanting a plan in theory to be accepted as a guaranteed battle towards freedom.

"It's the best we have." Haruto sighed. "Without magic, our options are pretty limited."

"OK, how do we get it started?" Shunpei asked.

"Um, usually it all starts with yelling." She scratched the back of her head. The detective sprung up and walked over to the bars of the cell, latching onto them and started to scream incoherently.

"Are you sure this is how to do it?!" Haruto shouted back, his fingers stuck in his ears.

"Come on, put your heart into it!" Rinko continued to scream, much to her cellmates' annoyance. Then, Shunpei joined in and started slapping his ring around the string of bars.

"Hey, hey!" A disembodied voice called to them. That sounded familiar. There was a cell a few feet above them. Francesca Tilheim! "What's all that noise down there?"

"You're still alive?" Haruto smirked, his cheery voice carrying high into the prison.

"Hah, I could say the same about you!" Francesca replied. "We're all up here. You trying to start a riot?"

"Might be the only way out!" He called out back to her. "Mind lending a hand?" Without another word, the rest of the magicians screamed. It started a loud wave of earth shattering sound that spun clockwise throughout the prison. One after another, more and more prisoners joined in. Try as they might, even with all their efforts the undead guards refused to budge. It took only a minute to reach the peak of performance, and thirty seconds to underperform. It died as soon as it lived.

"You fools." General Shima spoke up. "A riot is meaningless without action."

"It's not like we can do much here." Shunpei muttered. Haruto gripped tightly to these bars.

"Shima-san," Haruto said, addressing him with a level head he previously hadn't before. "I can't do this alone." The cold steel ingrained its draining spirit in the etches of his skin. "I want to believe you care about this island. If you truly do, then please: help me restore its hope."

"Are you willing to do whatever it takes?" Gorou asked, holding the lifeless woman in his arms. "Are you willing to do whatever it takes to protect what you love?"

"What are you asking of me?" He replied, gazing at Koyomi. If it meant that she could live a normal life one day, then if he had to give his own he would. Give his money, his dreams, even his flesh and blood if she could live the rest of her life without ever having to worry for her safety again. Was that a life that he could one day have, standing next to Koyomi?

"Genichiro – my son, he has no intention of stopping his conquest." Gorou spoke in a cold, sharp voice. It was the timbre of an old man picking up an ancient blade and slicing through weathered vines he had never been able to make meaning in. He was weary and tired, but the hilt wrapped around his hands, and he continued slicing - even if it was the last thing he had to do. "It's impossible to release Celestice from the curse of our sins without a confrontation."

"I'll be ready." Haruto assured. "Last time, I underestimated him. It's going to be different when I see him again."

"Are you prepared to kill him?"

The room fell silent. Not another word out of anyone. Even the Emperor was surprised. It was for Haruto to carefully decide what he had to say next. This wasn't a task that was to be taken so trivially. What was he trying to achieve with this? One last string of taunting words to make him fold beneath all the pressure that was already weighing him down? No, that wasn't it. Not at all.

For the first time since he met Gorou Shima, he was pleading with the utmost sincerity to someone he ought to trust when there was no one else. The only person that could give him the answer he needed was the young magician before him, who appeared as though he had just seen a ghost in the making. But how was he supposed to answer? Taking a life was no simple matter. Sure, he had fought many phantoms, but they were different – remnants of who someone once was: lingering ashes of a whole. To slay someone in cold blood, could Haruto do it?

"I will put a stop to your son and return peace to Celestice. I promise."

Good enough. Getting to his feet, he handed Koyomi off to Haruto and stood adjacent to the cell bars. The metal was at least a few centimeters thick, far stronger than any steel he had faced before. This wasn't his first cage, and it was not going to be his last. "If you want to cause a riot…" He gripped the bars tightly, standing with his feet apart planted deep into the ground. "You have to do more than make some noise!"

Something inside of him snapped. With all his might, General Shima tore through the center, pulling with opposing force at the edge of the cell. Not yet, he wasn't out of the woodworks yet. Another tug would have to do, he needed more than a simple clearing. No, he was going to do far more than that – blast a hole straight through this clearing! Barrels of steam cleared through his ears as he tried again, and again, and again! "Hrrng… Break you…" He cursed incoherently underneath his breath. Was that all he had?! Had he gone so soft that a simple gate was going to keep him locked up like a sick dog?!

"Amazing…" Haruto muttered.

"Gorou, please stop this at once!" The Emperor commanded, but to no avail. He had no power here. "Please, I beg of you. You're going to injure yourself, we'll find another way!"

"I have… served you… for… longer than I have not…" He said through gritted teeth. His muscles felt as though they were about to pop at any moment. "It is… not… a service I regret… You have… given me life…" The bars continued to squeeze, leaving their shape as the General's testament to ensuring the promise of something he should have done years ago was finally fulfilled. "More… than the man… I owe my… life to… You are more… than my savior. You are… my… friend!" Almost there, just a little more force.

"Gorou," The Emperor was speechless. Why was he doing this for these people? "I cannot begin to underst–"

"SILENCE!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. Not one person in this prison was absent in the presence of his declaration to the man who used to rule all. "YOU… ARE… MY… FR-FR… FRI.. FRIEND!"

The impossible had become a reality! There was nothing left standing to keep them bound to this decrepit pit of horror. "Trust in me, as I have in you, my lord." Gorou Shima has reawakened. "These four have become our hope, and I will be yours until the day I die."

ELSEWHERE IN CESTALIA

This avenue was familiar. Strange, he hadn't remembered the roads being this coarse. Irregular paving tore at the skin beneath his feet. Once, when he was younger, he had scraped his knee while running home. He was unable to recall the fall, but the aftermath was ingrained in Genichiro's mind. It hurt like hell - to this day, probably the worst physical pain he had ever experienced. After being tended to, he was scolded by his Father for being so reckless. Weeks afterwards, he refused to run across the road. He saw his experience not as one to learn from, but one to fear. Even if it took him half an hour to creep across the road up to his house, Genichiro would sneak to the best of his ability in order to avoid the reminder of his failure.

"You're late again." His father would say, setting his blade next to his bed while he undid his worn boots. "Why?"

"I didn't want to run." The image of his father's disappointment, even now, was still so clear. All he could remember was disappointment. His father let out a hefty sigh before redoing the ties around his feet and took his son by the hand, guiding him outside.

"Where did you fall?" The General asked.

"I don't know." Genichiro whispered, leaning into his father's leg.

"Yes, you do." Had his tired voice been a product of the responsibility he bore from his status, or the shame that his son who was not on the path to follow was exhibiting? Was feigning ignorance more cowardly than admitting defeat to something that had not a heart, yet had conquered his own? "Show me, Genichiro."

"Over there." He pointed with a shaky finger. Together, they approached the corner. His legs grew shaky with each step. What only lasted a minute felt like an hour, and to this day he wonders, how many fears had he let consume him in the past? Was he still a man of fear, or had chaos overgrown in the depths of his heart?

"You were bleeding that day, weren't you?" His father asked, kneeling down.

"It hurt a lot." Genichiro nodded.

"Of course it did." The General laughed. "Your blood is seeping into these stones. You have left your mark on the world."

"But it hurt."

"Many things in this world hurt."

"So being in pain is good?"

"Nothing in this world that comes without pain is worth it." The General gazed at his son, hoping that he would understand sooner than later. "Some of our greatest achievements come from our greatest pain. Don't fear pain, embrace it."

Leaving his mark on the world… The same world that he was locked away from.

How foolish of him to have any hope that he could still find the dried stains of his past on these misshapen stones. Perhaps it was never there to begin with. The house was still standing. He figured that it would bring him some sort of relief or understanding, but it doesn't. No, not in the slightest. What surprised him is that his room, in all its glory, was practically untouched. Though he rationalized this memorial was nothing more than negligence by his father who clearly spent no time in the house, otherwise it wouldn't be such a mess. If he ever went home, that is. It was practically abandoned. There was no sign of life - not even a stirring rat. This place was cursed.

Rustle, rustle.

Genichiro got to his feet, his palm opened like a cannon down the hall and ready to fire at the ready. Hesitantly, a group of children emerged. Two of them were carrying wooden swords. It seems like amongst the chaos, all of them were playing.

"S-stop right there, f-foul beast." One of the children said, holding their blade up to his chest. It could be slapped out of their hand with as little effort as it took to open your eyes. "I-in the name of… Doro!"

"Is that your name?" Genichiro asked, smirking. "Children shouldn't be playing here. Where are your parents?"

"I said stop there!" The child said with greater confidence. He had to give him some respect. Even when his body acted as though it were victim to a wild tremor, he held that blade steady.

"You can't go home, can you?" Genichiro knelt down. Why was he doing this?

"We're hungry…" Another child, a young girl who was relegated to holding a shield said. "Where's my mom?"

"This is no place for you to hide." Genichiro sighed, staring out the window. It was still there. "Leave this house and follow that path until you see a field of flowers. It is a clearing, and there are berries for you to eat." The children didn't move. "Go, now!" He ordered, and this time they listened – splitting between their feet and tripping over balls of dust that weren't there. It was nice to know that his home was now defiled to nothing more than a mere safehouse for lone children and squatters. This was all a waste of time. The new emperor left this old shack behind, and headed out back onto the streets.

This whole neighborhood was a ghost town. Funny, it once was such a lively place. Everyone on the island would wander through and take their leisure by the seaside. Now, it would be a miracle if there was ever traffic that wasn't necessary. Diamonds don't shine forever. "Tell me," Genichiro started, raising his head to the stars whilst he collapsed onto the street, allowing himself to fall flat on his back against the stones. It was more comfortable than the last ten years. "Are you delighted to see me?"

No response. There was never a response.

Rustle, rustle. Footsteps again. Was it those brats?

"I told you… We should have gone west." No, not at all.

"And what, head towards the colosseum? I heard that's where the rest are being rounded off to." Another voice.

"We're dead men walking." The first, feminine voice continued. Though they tried to keep silent, anyone from a hundred feet away with a half decent pair of ears could hear them. "We shouldn't risk our lives like this… How will we travel the seas?"

"I'd rather drown or be swallowed than bow to that demon."

"Is that true?" Genichiro said, appearing from behind. There was a crowd of four. Two children, two parents. They screamed at the top of their lungs. Petrified by his presence, neither of them dared to move - for if they did, their lives may be cut short. "Your vessel is beautiful." Genichiro said, complimenting their dinghy. "I suppose it has no name. A name gives her luck, and for such a voyage… and with this, you will require a lot of luck if you wish to leave this island." He stepped forward, prompting them to be backed into a cluster of thick trees. "After all, that is your plan, isn't it?"

"P-please, don't kill us…" The mother begged, scouring for something to offer for their disobedience. "A-at least don't kill me. This wasn't my…"

"Save your tears." Genichiro sighed, pocketing his hands. The jewels glimmered underneath the sea of stars. "It spares the skin of shame."

"You will not kill us?" The father asked. "O-oh, how can I…"

"On second thought." Genichiro interrupted. "May I take a look at that vessel? Its beauty is mesmerizing, but I must… No, I have to take a second look."

Without wasting another moment, they handed him the boat. He took one look at it and smirked before tossing it high into the air and shattering it with a ball of electrical energy! It shattered into pieces, piles of chipped debris collapsing all around them. Their children, no older than he was when he once left, cried. "Hush, now." Genichiro said in a soft voice, inches away from the group who had no choice but to submit to his will. "Consider it a favour. The ocean is vicious – nothing out there is your friend."

His hand began to glow. "It puzzles me, why would you want to leave so soon?" A tiny, but deadly ball of white light formed in his palm. "If you leave, you will miss the celebration."

"C-c-c… celebration?" The woman asked.

"Yes, a grand decree by the new Emperor. There is much to do, and far more to see." The ball of light carried itself into the air and expanded by several feet, becoming a great beacon that anyone from hundreds of feet away could see. Getting to his feet, Genichiro turned his back and began to leave. "Stick around, won't you?" He smiled, looking over his shoulder. From the shadows, pairs of disembodied golden eyes revealed themselves. "This is a show for the ages. One you cannot miss."

Tormented voices scraped against the backs of ears as their petrification commenced, turning the four of them into stone figures. He now sought greater purpose in this trek. It was a reminder of who Genichiro Shima was, and who he had to be, the Emperor of Celestice. If it meant playing the monster, then so be it.

What is done, shall be done.

AUTHOR'S NOTES (5/10/2023)

Hello again! It's been a while, hasn't it? Well, my apologies for the wait. A lot has happened in the month. My semester ended and I returned home for the summer, and I'm glad to be back. I also currently have a job, which is exciting! Planning to use some of what I earn on upgrading my figure collection. Currently, I only own the Water Style for Wizard, but I would love to get the Flame style. Oh, and a Medusa figure. She isn't really in this story, but Medusa and Mayu are some of my favourite characters and I hope down the line in other stories I can utilize them more.

On other notes, have you heard about the new Faiz movie? I'm pretty excited. I still need to complete Faiz, but man I'm so happy it's getting something for their anniversary! Although Wizard didn't get much for it's 10th anniversary, I hope we get some sort of event for the 15th anniversary. Though, I imagine it's difficult to get previous actors aside from the core 5. After all, the chief phantoms like Phoenix, Medusa and Gremlin are pretty unavailable from my research, but it would be cool to see one of them return.

Anyways, we're nearing the climax of this story. Only a few chapters left, and that's that. I really do want to thank you all for tuning in, even if you're just a ghost viewer who flies under my radar. This is my first long fic that I'm completing, and I feel it has helped improve my writing skills. In part its thanks to you all!

I also hope you're enjoying Genichiro so far. I'm very, very excited for the final clash between he and Haruto. I hope you all are feeling the excitement as we ramp up the plot. With where it's going now, it's a little hard to imagine a few chapters back we were dancing in ballrooms and spilling gravy, haha.

Speaking of stories, I've been in the mood to read Kamen Rider fics. I actually don't read a lot of fanfiction nowadays, but I want to get back into it. Nonetheless, there aren't many stories for Wizard, so I'm happy to help write more. The fandom on these sites is still a little small, but it's growing with everyday, I can feel it! I'm excited to read a few Ex-Aid fics, and I hope to see a few Shin Kamen Rider stories down the line with the english release of the film.

So, that's all. Til next time, enjoy the next chapter!

Remember, I'm open to criticism and comments so feel free to leave them! I don't bite, but I do transform.