Masked Rider: Hitting the gas

To say that everything hurts would be a monumental overstatement.  The dust was so thick around him, breathing was almost impossible, never mind seeing clearly.  He grits his teeth against the pain as his left arm screamed in pain at the effort of moving beneath the rubble that had collapsed on him.  It would have been like moving through the air on a good day, but that was a lifetime ago.

The rubble strewn about him was the remains of a cave network that was supposed to mark the final battle between himself and his opponent.  The opponent whose breathing he was trying to suss out among the occasional pebble falling.  Yet, the silence had turned into a constant background noise that he found impossible to shut out.  He had read somewhere that silence could be deafening at times, but he had always put that aside as artistic liberty.  Yet now, here he was unable to hear pebbles hitting the rubble a scant millimeter from him.

His brain was also screaming at him to be silent, he knew there was no way the falling rocks had even staggered his opponent.  He had no time to lose if he was to stop Gorgom before they added his homeworld to their growing list of conquests.  Yet, here he was, unmoving under a few large stones, that were no effort at all to move with the enhanced strength his transformed state gave him.  But then in a flash, his determination evaporated like so much mist on a sunny day.  The sin he had just committed was unforgivable to any civilized world, from Aqitar to Triforia killing a family member was unforgivable.

He felt the shaft of the blade’s handle in his palm and then closed his fingers around the jeweled surface of the Seiton Saber.  Even this was painful, but the slow methodical movements trying to free himself from the prison of the rubble.  Blood began to move once more as aching muscles began flexing back to life, and nerves began flaring back waking.  He rose onto his buttocks, which also indicated their unhappiness at being forced back into movement instead of being coaxed.  He raised the handle to his sight, his eyes narrowing at the prize so many had sought for so long.  He wanted to hurl it at the wall, but some small voice in the back of his mind warned against it.

He got back to his feet slowly, casting his eyes about for anything that held even the basic shape of his brother’s body, but the dust and debris was still far too thick.  Moments ticked by into infinity as the air began to clear, and finally, his eyes locked onto something.  He limped over to the almost formless shape, also buried under rubble.  Only his arm was visible, but he reached down and took his brother’s hand, squeezing it tight.  Finding it limp for a single moment before his fingers tightened in his palm a nanosecond later.  In a reflexive surprise, he pulled his hand back, half in surprise, half in disgust.

“Can’t bear to touch me Kotaro?  Where are all those kind words begging me to return to our family and homeworld?” he managed to cough out with a trickle of blood from his mouth.  “Those died when you promised the Creation King mine and father’s blood, Dregon…”

Dregon narrowed his darkening eyes, “You never had the vision to wield his power, Kotaro…  You had to be willing to throw everything away for it, but you held to petty morality and let the wrong loyalty sway your drive.”

“And you were willing to give Gorgom our homeworld, and the billions of people on it.  You cast off everything that made you human, Dregon…  I would sooner die that commit genocide.”

Dregon coughed again, getting the blood on Kotaro’s clothing, “Again…  No vision.  No will no killer instinct.  The creation king even gave you a powerful new form that you forsook to use my power…” he coughed before more blood poured from his mouth.

“It was never your power…  It belongs to our people.  That’s why it never chose you…  Instead, it set us against each other.  Something I’ll never forgive it for.”

Dregon tried laughing, but instead coughed again, “You are so… so…”

“Please, Dregon…  I know there’s no chance for forgiveness now…  But for Father’s sake.  At least renounce your misdeeds…”

“… weak…” Dregon finished, his hand growing limp once more.

A single tear flowed down Kotaro’s cheek, into his palm.  He closed his fist around it while a small spark of light erupted from his palm.  In its place was a single tear-shaped stone, immaculate in how clear it was.,  He dropped it next to Dregon’s body.  Kotaro stood, reaching for the green stone on Dregon’s belt, but as always, no matter how he pulled it refused to  move for him.  Kotaro spat on the ground a few feet away from Dregon’s body to not hit the stone he just dropped.

Kotaro stood slowly, tightening his grip around the Seyton Saber.  Narrowing his eyes.  “You’ve brought my family nothing but pain,” he said under his breath.  “But, I need your power just once to save our world.  Then, we part forever…” he said.  He balled his fists, tensing his muscles, and spoke the phrase his ancestors had spoken so many times before, “Let’s ride!”  In a burst of red light that exploded from his waist, he was encased in black armor, his hard eyes replaced with two large red lenses.  In Prince Kotaro’s place, stood the form of the armored hero the Masked Rider.


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