Another non-SW idea for this thread. This is for Kamen Rider, a franchise belonging to Toei and Shotaro Ishinomori which follows a similar idea to Power Rangers/Super Sentai, in that there is a guy who transforms into a hero to fight monsters. Much like Power Rangers/Super Sentai, there is a new show every year that has a new group of characters and a new motif for the Kamen Rider of that year (ranging from ancient artifacts, to cyborg bugs, to cell phones, to playing cards, etc.).
With Kamen Rider’s 50th anniversary coming up in 2021 (and my tenth on Fanfiction.net under the penname ‘Kamen Rider Raika’), I’m planning to write this little fanfiction. So far, there is just the prologue which you will see below, but I hope you like it.
April 3, 2071
“ALERT! ALERT! INTRUDERS IN THE FACILITY! INTRUDERS IN THE-!”
The words were cut off by a man slamming into the shouting console on the wall. Sparks flew up from the now-broken console, and the man slumped into an unconscious form on the sterilized floor. Cautiously walking by the man and his pale white clothes, a figure in green armor his red eyes at his comrade and asked, “Don’t you think that was a bit much?”
The other man in golden armor snorted, his boots stepping over the minion without care. A low tone left his grilled mouth plate, showing greater experience that his green compatriot lacked. “He was in the way,” he explained.
“I don’t think Aqua would like it,” said the green figure.
“He won’t complain. Not when he sees we’ve made a way in for him and the other Riders,” retorted the golden man, waving a gauntlet-covered hand to the long trail of unconscious men and women behind. Turning back around, he returned his red lens down the long hall. “Come on. The sooner we stop Foundation X, the better.”
The green figure sighed in defeat and followed his older compatriot, right by the giant X plastered on the wall. There had been some groans, but they were of no concern. Those henchmen wouldn’t wake up anytime soon, and when they did, they would be in cuffs. Still, the green man wondered aloud over the echoing steps of armored boots, “It would be easier if we knew where this so-called great weapon is.”
“Read the reports, kid. Mordred went through a lot to get the schematics we need.”
That elicited a hesitant response. “Um, I’m not sure how accurate those are. I mean can she still be trusted-”
The green man stopped when a high-pitched beep echoed in both their helmets. The golden man almost smiled when his antennae shifted slightly. “Speak of the devil,” he said smugly to his younger friend, then he held a finger to his helmet’s side. “Nova, here. You have something, Mordred?”
A woman’s voice quivered through the comlink in Nova’s helm. “I-I’m inside. I’ve found the asset. Sending coordinates, now.”
Removing his hand and holding it out, Nova summoned a bright blue, holographic screen. The image showcased a map of the facility, completed with a big red dot that said: “ASSET HERE.” Satisfied, Nova retracted the holomap into his arm. “Looks like she can be trusted,” he spoke with the same smugness to his comrade.
The green faceplate hid the other’s eyebrows mimicking the W-shaped horn on his head. “Okay, okay, you got me there,” he conceded.
With that, green and golden boots ran through the facility. The two pairs of red bug-like eyes went from one doorway to the next, searching for any sign of their target. After several minutes of searching, it was nowhere to be seen. There wasn’t anything or anyone. There was only the constantly clean and quiet halls of the secret base belonging to the organization called Foundation X.
The green one voiced his observation. “Where are the guards? Shouldn’t there be more here?”
Though silent at first, Nova tensed once he passed yet another empty corner. This time, there was a dead-end, with the same giant X plastered on a pair of blackened double doors. “Tell the others to come quickly. We’ll need back up,” Nova ordered.
“On it. We wait until-hey, wait!” his companion said, calling out to Nova rushing at the double doors.
Though the doors were a foot-thick and bolted by several locks, two powered punches tore them off their hinges. Nova stood at his newly-made entrance, his eyes glaring at the unusually darkened chamber in front and not towards his comrade running beside him. “… come on, I know you…” the other man began and stopped when he looked at the room with Nova.
If either had to say anything, they were cut short by a slow clap, clap, and clap from deep inside the room. “Welcome, Kamen Riders, to my humble abode,” announced a voice belonging to neither men in armor. It came from a very unarmored man, whose white suit and smirking pale face made him stand out in the shadows. “Speechless? Now, that is something I never expected. Let alone from you, Cyclone.”
Kamen Rider Nova clenched his fists and did everything he could to not acknowledge the taunt. His companion, the ever-talkative Kamen Rider Cyclone, pointed a green finger at the man in white and proclaimed, “It’s over! Your organization’s done for, Shimamura!”
Shimamura’s smirk widened into a big smile. “It’s not done yet. After all, not everyone is here for the finale, only just us four…”
“Four?” echoed Cyclone.
Nova found the answer falling from above with a glinting blade. “Move!” he shouted, shoving Cyclone and himself aside.
The long white blade of a sword struck the floor and showered the two Riders in its sparks. Both Cyclone and Nova were appalled to find a familiar, feminine figure in white heaving the sword up with red-lined gauntlets gripping the golden handle. Shaking slightly, as if against her own will, she faced the Riders, her white armor spiked on the shoulders and boots.
Of the two, Cyclone uttered in surprise, “Mordred?”
The new Rider’s round helmet silently peered at him and Cyclone, the grilled visor covering the left half of her face. With silence leaving her fanged mouthguard, Shimamura took it upon himself to speak in his mocking tone. “Ah, yes. Such a shame. You can never know whom to trust,” Shimamura chuckled then looked to the Rider in front of him. “Keep them busy.”
Shakingly, Mordred lunged, and the uncovered right half of her face blurred with the green eye and red circuitry. Her sword, straight-edged and gleaming, swung at her ‘old friends.’ Of them, Nova stepped forward, and his gauntlet sparked when it caught the attack.
“Hrgh!” Nova grunted, pushing against the shorter Rider’s strength. “Cyclone, move!”
Cyclone nodded, but Mordred had already kicked Nova back. Then, she swung her sword in the other Rider’s way. “Woah!” Cyclone exclaimed then looked at her. “Mordred, what’s gotten into you?!”
The Rider in question rose her sword. “I-I can’t stop it,” she whimpered through her helmet. Her body shook like it was fighting for control. “Please… help…”
Despite her best efforts, Mordred lunged again. Nova, after dodging another wild swing with Cyclone, spared a red-eyed glance at Shimamura. The pale-faced and pale-clothed man raised his hand to a console rising from the floor, typing away at the controls. Within moments, the console announced, “Countdown in ten seconds…”
Nova immediately drew his fists over the red gem in his belt buckle. “Ten,” the console announced, and Nova began to make his call.
“Kingstone-!”
“No!” Cyclone grabbed Nova’s right arm, yanking it to the side. “Yoshi, you can’t do that here!”
“Let go, kid! It’s the only way!” Nova yelled back at Cyclone and over the cry of “Nine.”
The two squabbling Riders split apart in time to avoid a stab of Mordred’s sword. “We don’t have time!” Nova shouted, ignoring the console announcement of “Eight.” “It’s now or never!”
Mordred’s sword put Nova’s plan to a halt as he caught it with both hands. “D-do something!” Mordred cried over the “Seven” from the console.
Cyclone darted his gaze to Shimamura, who awaited the countdown’s completion with a smile. “Well, Rider?” he asked while his console announced “Six.” “What will it be?”
His hands curled into fists, Cyclone went past his fellow Riders-Nova kicking Mordred back. He went straight for Shimamura, hearing only his steps echo with the cry of “Five.”
Cyclone’s boots pounded on the clean floor. Shimamura was only ten feet away, still smiling. Rushing as fast as Cyclone could, that smile closed it at eight feet.
“Four.”
At six feet, Cyclone leaped off the floor. He went into the air, barely avoiding a strike from Mordred. The green Rider went at the man controlling her, now within three feet and closing.
“Three.”
Mere inches apart, Cyclone reached out a hand, ready to grab Shimamura’s shirt and turn his smile upside-down. He was so close.
“Two.”
Yet, his hand touched nothing. It was only an after-image that vanished quickly. “Oof!” left Cyclone as he crashed onto the floor where Shimamura once stood.
“One.”
Lying there, Cyclone eyed the now-glowing console with his fellow Riders. “Oh no,” he whispered.
Then, the console flashed-
“RIDER BLACKOUT, INITIATING.”
-and everything went dark.