IV. Grande-Kaijin

Tsukasa reached for the Ride Booker, tearing it open and slamming the card down into his belt.

‘Attack Ride,’ the machine called out in a mocking voice, ‘Illusion!’

About him, light flashed once again, coalescing into identical forms of his own armour, each one controlled by the central intelligence at the belt’s core – the intelligence that the other Rider had hinted would one day drive the suit on without him into a confrontation with the original Kamen Rider of the world he now occupied.

Gathering on the upper streets, the air thick with their howling calls, the monstrous army of Shocker mutants tightened their ranks, the contact seemingly breaking down genetic barriers between them, reducing flesh to liquid that flowed like a tidal wave above them.

Behind the emerald eyes of his masque, Kadoya Tsukasa watched as the churning waters of genetic mutation broke over the streets, pouring themselves into the air and reforming in the shape of one final, hideous monster, its massive, clawed feet crashing into the road either side of Shinigami Hakase.

“Increasing your numbers won’t help, boy!” Shinigami wheezed, his eyes bulging with hatred.

“Grande-kaijin,” Hitomoji snarled, tightening his fists, “you’ve gone too far this time, Shocker!”

Behind him, Ðecade shrugged free of the countenance of his Skull Rider armour, placing a hand on Tsukasa’s shoulder.

“He’s right,” the other man remarked, drawing three cards from his own leather and vinyl Ride Booker, “strength of numbers won’t defeat Shocker, only strength of will.”

Tsukasa quickly shrugged free of the grasp.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” he answered smugly, his voice level, “but I won’t sit back and leave that monster unchallenged.”

“Then work with us, Kaodya Tsukasa,” Ðecade implored.

Beneath the masque, Tsukasa sneered with disinterest.

“I don’t even know who you are,” he began but was silenced as the other Rider began to talk, his voice earnest.

“Kadoya Taki,” he said firmly, “I’m with the FBI.”

Tsukasa blinked.

“F-B-I?” he enunciated.

Ðecade nodded.

“I was assigned to investigate Shocker’s kidnapping of high level United Nations officials. Whilst in New York, I met with Gomoto who entrusted me with this,” he tapped the clockwork belt about his waist with one finger, eliciting a chime as his gloved finger pushed against the glass yet failed to stir the inner machinery from its regular workings.

“I don’t know what it is or how Gomoto came across it, but I know that it changes the world around us, moves us somehow through different aspects of reality.”

“Cosmological Ðecades,” Tsukasa said, echoing his earlier thoughts.

Again, Ðecade nodded.

“So you see, our mission is not that different.”

Kadoya shrugged.

“Except that I’m supposed to destroy the nine worlds I move through.”

“Don’t believe that,” Hitomoji snapped, looking over his shoulder, “Kamen Riders are the defenders of justice. Fate wouldn’t entrust a Rider belt to a man with ill intentions.”

For the briefest of moments, Tsukasa thought of the worlds he had moved through, of the arbitrary violence and destruction of the Riders of Ryuki’s World and the contracted salarymen of Blade’s World.

He wanted to believe that all Kamen Riders were heroes; that all Riders, no matter how disparate, fought for a better world against the tyranny of monsters. Yet how could he equate that with the things he had seen amongst the nine worlds, and how could he believe such a thing when knowing that his own belt was determined to rise against him?

“Believe in yourself,” Ðecade urged, “believe in your own capacity to avert tragedy.”

Slowly, Tsukasa nodded and around him, the simulacra of his suit seemed to come alive.

“You’re right,” he said slowly, “I guess I can trust you after all.”

Ðecade nodded again, sliding a card into his clockwork belt and strolling casually past Tsukasa and towards Hitomoji.

“In which case, I’ll leave you to deal with Shinigami Hakase, whilst we,” he lifted his head to look once more at the howling Shocker monster, “whilst we deal with grande-kaijin Dokusasori Otoko!”

‘Final Form Ride,’ the belt called out, ‘Niigo!’

“Hitomoji Hayato,” he said quietly, “lend me your power.”