Disclaimer: As stated in the prologue, I own nothing. Kamen Rider, and any characters, ideas, etc. are owned by Ishinomori Productions and Toei. The Kamen Rider SPIRITS manga belongs to Toei and Kenichi Muraeda.

"... I don't want to see people cry anymore! I want everyone to smile! So, have a good look... at my... HENSHIN!"

神話

Myth

To Kaoru Ichijo, New York City largely resembled Tokyo, on the surface. A large city, plenty of skyscrapers, crowds everywhere, and of course, crime. As a detective, Ichijo saw the signs of gangs and robberies everywhere, like he would see in Japan, as if they were a common occurrence.

Ichijo knew that was not why he was in New York. He arrived a couple days ago, at the request of the Tokyo superintendent, to work with the local police on a number of "mysterious murders." Said murders had little information to go on, but the tiny details burrowed in Ichijo's mind as he pondered on the perpetrators. It was all the more convenient when there was a murder, today no less.

"Mr. Ichijo, we're here," said the driver, a typical New York cop whose name avoided Ichijo.

"Thank you," Ichijo said in his heavily accented English. He then left the car and wrapped himself in his long coat.

The crime scene was not hard to miss, especially when it was in the middle of New York City's Time Square. A section had been cleared away by blaring sirens and flashing cars that surrounded the area. Men in thick blue coats and emergency uniforms went about to inspect whatever had been there and to keep civilians outside the yellow tape. From there came a shout.

"Mr. Ichijo!" called Jackson, Ichijo's liaison with the NYPD, waving from behind the yellow tape.

Waving back, Ichijo approached the officer and was let through the yellow tape. As Ichijo came under it, Jackson said, "Glad you could make it. Things haven't been looking too good."

"What happened here?" Ichijo said whilst rubbing his hands to keep warm and glancing over the other cops.

"Another death, sixth this week. Cocoa?" answered the young African American, who held out his steaming cup. Ichijou rejected the kind offer, and Jackson took a sip. "Anyway, we've been looking into this for the past month. We haven't come up with any leads so far."

Something gnawed at the back of Ichijo's mind. He pushed it aside and said, "Maybe this investigation can shed some right on this?"

"Right?" Jackson blinked before realizing it. "Oh, you mean light! Yeah, that's what the chief is hoping!"

"Um, yes," Ichijo frowned at the "L's" of the English alphabet.

Just then, a rough voice shouted, "Jackson, has that detective shown up yet!?'

"He's here, chief! I'll bring him over!" Jackson called back, then whispered to Ichijo, "You should be careful. The chief isn't in the best of moods."

Ichijo nodded, and they both headed to the source of the bellow. Passing the ambulance truck, the cop cars, and their attendants, Ichijo found a Caucasian man in a cop uniform, and aged with experience, standing next to the victim's body. The biggest hint was the blood staining the sheet that covered it.

Coming up to the man, Jackson began the introductions. "Chief, this is the detective from Japan, Kaoru Ichijo."

The chief shook Ichijo's hand, and the winter air made the burly man's breath become visible as he spoke. "Chief Thomas Brown. Thank you for coming at such short notice."

Ichijo tried not to wince under the strong grip and flexed his hand behind his back once it was freed. "Nice to meet you, Chief Brown. May I see the body?"

Brown gestured a "go ahead," and Ichijo knelt down and gently lifted the cover off the body. Under it was a face, female and Caucasian, left in a state of horror with the mouth hung open. The skin hung close to the bone, so much that she looked more like a mummy than a real person. On the side of her neck was an incision, still pouring small amounts of blood onto the road.

"Who…" Ichijo asked, but Jackson quickly explained.

"Margaret Danvers, a reporter from the New York Times. Witnesses say she was running out into the street, bleeding everywhere. Before anyone could do anything, she fell over and died."

Brown huffed in irritation. "It happened two hours ago, around 3:00 PM. Every witness we've questioned says they found her like this immediately after she died. And in broad daylight!"

The gnawing returned and continued further into the front of Ichijo's mind. Not wanting to make any assumptions yet, he pointed to the cut on the victim's neck and asked, "And this? What do you think?"

"Well, it looks like whoever did it must be extremely good," Jackson commented as he himself had a look. "Pretty close to the jugular. It'd be impossible to not notice that."

Ichijo filed that away as he put the cover back on the victim and stood. "You said she was a reporter. Did she have anything on her? A camera?"

"She did have her phone," Brown said. "There were a couple of pictures, but they're blurred. I doubt they would do you any good."

"Can I see it?"

Ichijo took a mental note of Brown's small frown before the older man called for another cop. Given the phone, Brown handed it over to Ichijo and said, "Here it is. Just be careful."

Ichijo nodded before he held the phone in his gloved hands. It was a flip phone, bloodstain-free, bright pink, and already opened, so Ichijo took the time to look through. The screen was cracked, which hindered the image slightly. Still, it wasn't hard to make out the figure in the picture. It had a humanoid body, with a strange shape, claw-like appendages, and if Ichijo was right, a small object in its right hand.

In spite of how little Ichijo had seen, the figure looked freakish. Seeing the image took him back to nine years ago, when he was a younger man of twenty six, working for the Tokyo police. Back then, he had been caught into cases with unusual murders and hunting for...

The gnawing sensation turned into full realization. "It can't be," Ichijo said in Japanese.

The two Americans, not understanding a word, glanced at the foreign cop. "Have a clue, Mr. Ichijo?" Brown said.

Ichijo said nothing at first. After staring at the picture for a long moment, he handed the phone back. "See what you can find," Ichijo said, "As soon as you study this, send me a copy of your findings. And I need a copy of the autopsy report."

To that, Brown inquired, "What do you want with the findings?"

"A 'hunch,' as you say," Ichijo explained as he pointed a finger at the phone. "Whatever's on there may be the key to the murderers and where they are."

"'They?'" Brown repeated in derision, and Ichijo slightly regretted his choice of words.

"Chief," Jackson spoke on Ichijo's behalf, "it can't hurt to give it a shot."

The slight objection flickered on the chief's face before he gave in. "Fine, I'll have it ready."

"Thank you," Ichijo gave a small bow of his head and took his leave.

As he left in slow strides, Ichijo could hear Jackson say, "Don't worry, chief. You won't regret it."

"I'd better not. I don't want to worry about some monsters my kids dress up as," Brown's voice came overhead. "The paperwork is going to..."

The rest were drowned by the cop cars' sirens. Despite the chief's outrageous statement, Ichijo wished the man's thoughts were true. It had been nine years since then, and Ichijo really hoped he was wrong about his suspicions. For now, he had to make a few calls.

When nightfall came around, Ichijo had returned to his hotel, his mind wrapped on the case. No matter how hard he tried, he could not shake the familiar feeling. Even the comforts of Ichijo's hotel room, which were few in the confined space-a bed by the wall where he hung his jacket, an old TV set across from it, and a small bathroom. Ichijo had already called for room service, and now the hotel phone was replaced with his cell phone as he held it up to his ear.

'Come on, pick up,' Ichijo thought while pacing the red carpet.

At long last, there was an answer. "Moshi, moshi?" came a woman's voice from the other end.

"Sakurako-san? It's Ichijo," he said, glad to be hearing a familiar voice and to be speaking in his native tongue.

"Ah, Ichijo-san! It's so glad to hear from you! I heard you're in New York."

"Yes, I am," Ichijo smiled. "I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but I need your help."

"It's no trouble! Now, what can I do for you?"

He momentarily hesitated as he walked up to the window. "I need files on the Gurongi," he finally said.

The cheeriness on the other end dropped. "... Ichijo-san, what do you need them for?" Sakurako asked.

"I'm working on this case," Ichijo told her, staring at the street five stories down. "It might be nothing, but…"

He trailed off, but the silence explained the rest. There was a small huff, and Sakurako said, "Right, I'll email everything I have to you… You do have email, right?"

"Of course," Ichijo said, a little annoyed that others thought him so behind technology. "Also, can you call Enkida-san? I might need her help with something."

"Will do."

A knock on the apartment door interrupted the call and drew Ichijo away from the phone. "Mr. Ichijo! Mr. Ichijo!" he heard Jackson from the other side.

"I have to go. Tell everyone I said hello!" Ichijo said, then he hung up.

A few strides across the floor, Ichijo opened the door to Jackson and said in English, "Good evening, Mr. Jackson, do you-"

"I brought the files like you wanted," Jackson said, showing the folders in his hands.

"Thank you, but you could have sent them to my computer," Ichijo told Jackson, who have a small sheepish smile.

"Sorry. I was told you weren't that tech savvy so I thought it'd be easier to bring the hard copies."

As perturbed as he wanted to be, Ichijo took the folders and gave a grateful nod. After inviting Jackson inside, Ichijo took a seat on his bed and began looking through the paper.

Standing, Jackson said, "I included everything I could find. I put in the case files I could get my hands on and I included the forensic reports from the previous murders, too."

"Yes, that should do it," and Ichijo went back to reading the reports.

Jackson, however, was not done. "Soooo… you said you had a hunch, right? What do you think it is?"

"Don't worry," Ichijo said immediately. "There might be a pattern of some kind, but it might be just nothing."

"Come on, Mr. Ichijo, you can trust me with this!"

Ichijo almost had to hold back a smile. As hard as Jackson pressed for answers, Ichijo was impressed by the young cop's enthusiasm. It almost reminded him of...

"You think it's them, right? The Unidentified Lifeforms?"

Ichijo stopped and looked up at Jackson. "The what?" he asked, hoping he had heard that wrong.

"The Unidentified Lifeforms. A friend of mine showed me some of the reports. I couldn't read them, since they were in Japanese, but he gave me the gist. He told me they were monsters behind a string of strange murders nine years ago in Japan… Well, you were part of the case then, so you already know."

Ichijo did not comment on that last sentence. "And you think they're connected to this? What makes you think so?"

"Well, one of them have been showing up lately. People have been posting pictures on the internet. Some guy in strange armor. I think he may be one."

To prove his point, Jackson took out his cellphone and handed it to Ichijo. Staring at the screen, Ichijo saw a figure whose distinct features were too blurred to make any sense of them. However, Ichijo recognized a familiar outline with a red body and three sharp horns coming from the head.

"Recently, he's been showing up all over the world," Jackson spoke while Ichijo stared at the phone. "Some people say he's red, others say he's green. Heck, I've heard rumors saying he's black! And I mean in actual black armor!"

Ichijo he toned out the rest of what Jackson was saying. Black? He had only seen that color once. It was a little over nine years ago when… when…

… blood was spilt all over the snow... in the center were two bodies lying apart from each other…

Ichijo mentally shook the image of his head. No, he should not think of that right now. That was over, and he should not have to think of such things anymore.

"Mr. Ichijo?"

"Hmm?" Ichijo looked up to Jackson. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was talking about the warrior," Jackson answered, clearly reining in his exasperation.

Ichijo handed Jackson back his phone. "And you think he's behind the murders?"

"No, I don't think so." Ichijo blinked in surprise and let Jackson explain. "From what I've read, it looks like he's been helping people. I only just brought him up because he first appeared with those monsters. If he's around, there might be others too."

"I see…" Ichijo murmured in interest.

Left in silence, Jackson cleared his throat. "I probably should head back, or else the chief will send me on parking duty again. Give the station a call if you find anything," and he made turn to leave for the door.

"Jackson," Ichijo called out, making the young man stop and turn around. "You might be right, but you shouldn't trust what you read. They are just rumors."

"But there's some truth in them… Take care, Mr. Ichijo," Jackson said before taking his leave.

Alone at last, Ichijo closed and locked the door. As the final bolt clicked, he almost smiled. 'He's a lot like him,' Ichijo thought, then he went back to studying the files on his bed.

On a chilly morning, Ichijo stifled a yawn while he entered the police station with case files under one arm. From the stares he received from several onlookers on the street, he knew he was a tired mess. After spending half of the night away looking at files, that was to be expected.

Blinking away at his fatigue, Ichijo was surprised to find several police officers and attendants running back and forth on the stale floor. Phones were ringing several times a minute while chatter buzzed around the air like bees. It was a complete opposite of the barely operated station he saw in his first visit.

"Mr. Ichijo!" That was Jackson, coming through a crowd of his fellow cops and up to Ichijo with urgency. "Glad you came in! We got a situation on our hands!"

"What's going on?" Ichijo inquired, his first words upon entering the station.

Jackson frowned. "You should see for yourself," he said, his voice strangely quiet.

Ichijo did not ask anymore questions and followed Jackson. It was a short distance before he saw a pair of stretchers being carried away, and his eyes froze on the blood-stained sheets covering the corpse. "When did this happen?" Ichijo asked.

Still walking, Jackson explained, "A park ranger found the body an hour ago. The chief's calling everyone we can get our hands on."

The walk to Chief Brown's office was shorter than Ichijo remembered the last time. All the staff of the NYPD blurred away, and the sound of Brown's voice was heard several rooms away. The man, Ichijo found when coming closer to the office, was on his phone, and the words were clear.

"... understand, mayor. I'll what I can do about it," Brown said through visible teeth. With that, he slammed the phone down and yelled, "Paul, get every cop you can!"

The scrawny secretary with Brown said something unintelligible, but the chief, on who clearly heard it, snapped, "I don't care what it takes! I need that killer found now!"

With that, the secretary left, passing the confused Ichijo who entered the chief's office. "Close the door, Jackson," Brown ordered roughly. After Jackson did, the chief groaned and sat in his chair. "No doubt, both of you've seen the body… Well, you know how serious this situation is now."

Ichijo and surprisingly Jackson were silent while Brown continued, "At the moment, I'm sending in pairs of cops to search the entire district. We're going to need to everyone around, so I want you both to be careful."

Brown stepped from behind his desk and held out a file to gave Jackson. "Jackson, you and Ichijo will head with the main group to Central Park. That's where yesterday's victims were. Try to keep out of sight, so you don't scare anyone."

"On it," Jackson acknowledged and reached for the file.

Brown briefly held the file back. "I meant what I said about being careful. I don't want to lose any good people out there, including you," the chief stressed.

"I understand, chief. I'll be careful," Jackson assured, a bit exasperated before he was given the file.

After the younger cop left the office, Brown turned to Ichijo. "You think you'll be alright working with him?"

Ichijo nodded. "Jackson is fine… but I am worried we do not have evidence for this search."

"I agree with you, but I don't have a choice. At best, we might find a clue." Brown, playing with his cap, sighed, then inquired, "By the way, did you read the reports?" Ichijo pulled out the folders Jackson gave him last night. "Well, your thoughts?"

"I can't say for certain. I would have to wait before I receive the results from my division in Tokyo."

"When can we expect them?"

"Tomorrow, maybe two days, at most. For now, watch out for anyone suspicious persons with tattoos." That Ichijo could say with the utmost assurance, as he pulled out a photo from his personal folder, a little gift from his friend Sakurako. "This is something my associates took from a previous case. The murder may have markings similar to here."

Taking the photo, the chief quickly looked at it. "Better than nothing… I'll tell the others."

With that settled, Ichijo made his way for the door...

"Wait."

He stopped and turned to Brown, who hesitantly said, "Keep an eye on Jackson. Ever since he told me about his… ideas, he's seems to be getting personal about this case."

"Of course," replied Ichijo, who wondered why the chief was keeping his voice so low. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but what ideas?"

"I think you know," Brown explained vaguely. "He's been going on about monsters and whatnot for a while now. Can't say I blame him for thinking that…"

Ichijo prevented himself from spilling the whole truth right then and there. Instead, he calmly waited for Brown pinch the bridge of his nose and continue. "Look, word of monsters have been going 'round, more than usual. Even the higher ups are getting antsy about this. If any of what I've heard is true, I don't know what to expect. I need your help in this."

"I can try," Ichijo affirmed.

"That's all I need," Brown sighed-not in relief, but not in irritation either. "You should go before Jackson leaves you behind."

Again, Ichijo made his way for the exit. As he did, he could not help but feel the weight of fatigue and lack of sleep close his eyes, obscuring his reality from the shadow of his dreams...

A low growl echoed from a rather thin man walking down Central Park's dimly lit path. The man looked human enough, with average fair skin, but everything else was bizarre, from his spiked black hair to his pale skin to his dark jacket and even dark-painted nails. He looked even more bizarre, even intimidating, in the night.

A couple dared to look the man, who gave them a deathly stare. As they sped away, the man snorted in a language lost to time. "Linto. Always the same."

He looked in the crowd, or what few there were at such a late hour. People passed by him, giving him strange looks or whispering behind his back. He did not pay much attention to them. They would be dead soon enough, but tonight, the man debated which one would be his first target.

Then, he found it, or rather, them. A young man and woman walking side by side across the water bridge, blissfully unaware of their watcher. They seemed pretty normal to everyone else. He, on the other hand, could make of the faintest smell of blood leaking from the tiny flea bites that no one else would have taken notice.

He grinned. Those two had been marked by his "little helpers." Soon, they would be his victims for tonight, without even knowing a thing. It would be quite the spectacle.

So, he slowly approached the man and woman from behind. As he did, he flexed his fingers and grasped the curved dagger that suddenly appeared in his hand…

They were staring at him, those six black and inhuman eyes. Each of the six bulged from the arachnid-like head with murderous intent as they, and the human-like body they rested on, came closer to Ichijo.

Part of Ichijo wanted to run. He could not. He was in a helicopter, flying several feet above ground. So Ichijo aimed his gun at the interloper and fired.

The shots echoed, but Ichijo's disbelief grew when the brown monster smugly brushed a hand on its undamaged torso. The sight of its long white claws snapped Ichijo out of shock in time to dodge a swipe for his head.

Before the monster could attack again, someone else came aboard. He held the monster back with his white gauntlets, and a pair of orange eyes popped from behind. Then, the two fell away.

The helicopter tilted, and Ichijo fell forward into the door. He saw the warrior and the monster dangle from the helicopter, their weight dragging it downward. Just as quick, he backed up when the latter climbing to the side and glaring at the warrior dragging himself up.

To Ichijo, white and brown blurred as they grappled with one another, the former forcing the latter down with punches and kicks. The brown spider, true to its motif, clung to the helicopter's bottom, and the white warrior continued to keep his assailant away.

Eventually, the fighting stopped, and the monster was out of sight. Was it over? Ichijo leaned forward to see if that was true-

-and an inhuman hand grabbed him from behind! Ichijo was dragged out of the helicopter, and he stared at the open air and the monster waiting for him. He screamed and struggled his way out in vain, and in the monster's grasp, his head dared to bend in unnatural ways.

The white gauntlet hit the monster to force it back. Ichijo felt relieved to be pulled back into the helicopter. He barely caught a glimpse, and the next thing he knew, it was his savior being dragged out. The monster held him by the throat, but the warrior broke free, and with a mighty kick, sent the monster off the helicopter, finally gone from his and Ichijo's sights.

Ichijo, still in shock, had a good look at the white warrior now facing him. "You… saved me?" he asked, staring at those round, orange eyes and small horns embedded into the black helmet.

Against the glare of the setting sun, the warrior rose his hand and…

"Mr. Ichijo?"

"Huh?" Ichijo uttered as he opened his eyes from his dream. Greeted by piercing light, he immediately wished he had not.

Ichijo gave himself a minute before he raised his head from the leaning car seat and looked around. Jackson sat to his left at the wheel of his cop car, and outside of the wind shield were trees placed behind a bright street lamp. Even from inside the heated vehicle, the cold air of the night found their way in. No doubt, they had made it to their destination, but a different question came to Ichijo's mind when he came to. "What is that?" he asked when his nostrils tingled from a spicy scent.

Jackson held out one of the steaming cups in his hands. "Just bought a little something on our way here. You kinda passed out as soon as we left the station, so I thought I'd get you some."

"Thank you." Ichijo raised his seat and accepted the gift, whatever it was.

"It's Chinese lo mein," Jackson answered the unspoken question with a smile."It ain't something you might be used to, but it's decent enough, if I say so myself."

While Jackson devoured his food, Ichijo eyed his fork-a fork, not chopstick-before he too dug in his own cup. As the colorless noodles slid into his mouth, he spotted a picture on the dashboard. Ichijo noted Jackson's familiar face in the photo, but the one next to him was hard to see in the dark. "Who's…?"

The picture was in Jackson's jacket instantly after Ichijo spoke his first word. "... It's nothing important," he said, his smile twitching for a brief second. Ichijo decided not to ask and resumed his meal while Jackson finished his and went on, "Well, there hasn't been any news yet. I'd give you a tour of the park, but…"

The radio buzzed all of a sudden. "-come in, come in!"

Jackson grabbed his receiver and seemingly shed off his aloofness. "This is Jackson. You found a clue?"

"Another couple corpses. We're looking into it and-wait, what are you doing?!"

"Hey! What's going on?" Jackson shouted into his receiver, but he went unheard.

"N-no stay back!" the man on the other end said to someone else who was not Jackson.

Then, there was a scream.

Before Ichigo's blood could freeze, he left the car to chase after Jackson, already running down Central Park with a gun in hand.

"Jackson, wait!" Ichijo called after Jackson, running past the trees and civilians going in the other direction.

Jackson, up ahead, did not hear Ichijo and rushed down the now-abandoned path. "This way!" he shouted over his shoulder before rushing towards the gathering of trees nearby.

Against his common sense, Ichijo followed Jackson towards a bridge. He stopped by the top of the hill by the bridge, and he saw Jackson at the bottom of a water ditch, kneeling by the three-not one-corpses bleeding out on the grass. A few steps closer, Ichijo quickly tore his eyes from the same horrible gashes across the victims' necks, and his hand went on his gun.

"Jackson…" Ichijo said to his associate, eying the surrounding area. The shell-shocked Jackson did not seem to hear. "Jackson!"

This time, Jackson stood up and spoke, his voice brimming with anger. "Who did this?"

Ichijo glanced to Jackson, who was looking down at a fellow cop among the corpses. In spite of the scene, Ichijo could not say anything. There was no time to mourn or to give answers, not when he felt the same nagging sensation from yesterday.

That sensation came true when Ichijo spotted something under the water bridge. It was a strange shape that almost resembled a human, and its brown color almost in the shadows. Feeling its yellow eyes on him and Jackson, Ichijo said, "We have to run! Now!"

Jackson, noticing the shape, thought otherwise. "No… there's no way I'm letting him escape!" Aiming his gun, he shouted firmly, "You there! Put your hands in the air, or I'll shoot!"

Glowing slits for eyes peered at Jackson. Then, the figure took a step forward, almost taunting the cop. "I'm warning you! Move another step, or I'll shoot!" Jackson warned the figure, who figure took another step, then another, then another.

Ichijo shouted, "Jackson, don't-!"

Ichijo's warning came too late. The figure, rugged and bare-chested, stopped for Jackson's shots to flash across it. Four bullets fell at the figure's clawed feet, the tips of each one flat like pancakes. The slit-like eyes glowed a dangerous yellow from the smoke, and out came a sound. "Goza dabe ga?"

Again, Ichijo shouted, "Jackson, run-!"

And again, Ichijo was too late. Jackson had no time to react to the brown blur coming at him. A clawed hand as rugged and brown as the rest of the monstrosity, grabbed at Jackson's firing arm. With a yank, it pulled Jackson close and swung a free arm at the man, forcing him away from his gun and into the side of the water ditch.

"Jackson!"

Ichijo's cry rang loudly seeing Jackson fall in the water, but he could not help the other cop. Not when it stood in the way, in full view for him see; the monster, muscular and bare with only a white loincloth and a peculiar black belt with a bronze, pointed buckle. This was no ordinary creature. This was a monster whose kind Ichijo had seen before, nine years ago.

Then, it would have been called: an "Unknown Lifeform."

This Unknown Lifeform gazed at the gun it now held, studying it with interest. Its round, almost bug-like, head moved side-to-side, and behind an unmoving pair of pointed fangs, a gravelly voice spoke with tiny clicks. "Gabada bo Linto ba gabaza bo bugi bi gōzō-zei bade iragu."

Ichijo's fear and realization soared to new heights. The language too was familiar for him, even if he didn't understand a word. He managed to get the basic gist, though: "Humans… weapons are weak."

With that bit of knowledge, Ichijo could only watch the Unknown Lifeform. He suppressed his swelling fear and held up his gun. Regular bullets were useless, and he may have had plenty of those. Fingering on his trigger, Ichijo fired one of his normal bullets at Jackson's gun, knocking it out of the Unknown Lifeform's hand. That drew its attention towards Ichijo, just like he had planned.

And like Ichijo had planned, the Unknown Lifeform itself went away from Jackson to him. It charged on those lean legs, and Ichijo kept his aim steady. The act more out of habit more than common sense, and it was a decent front, for all the good it did.

Like Jackson, Ichijo was met with a clawed arm knocking into his chest. His feet flew off the ground, and he found himself colliding into the other slanted side of the ditch with a loud thud. He laid there, trying to grip a gun he no longer had and rolling from his side onto his back. He barely registered the Unknown Lifeform until he found its eyes staring down at him.

"Gawaseba," the monster clicked in its strange language, its voice filled with mild disappointment. One of its hands rose, unveiling a sharp, crooked dagger in its grasp. "Rinto wa zogabodizo o dobo jō bi zaozhirazhida ga?"

Ichijo's eyes widened at the dagger over him. The terror had been suppressing the entire time, rose to his face. He tried to push it back down, refusing to give the Unidentified LIfeform the sickening pleasure. Whatever his inside thoughts were, Ichijo watched the dagger come down from the outside-

Then, something grasped the monster's arm, halting its strike in place.

The dagger stopped a few inches away from Ichijo's face. Lying on the ground, he swallowed a gasp that almost escaped his throat. He let his gaze trail down to the red gauntlets holding the dagger back the wrists cuffed in gold.

Attached to it was the black arm of a different figure. He was not as monstrous as the Unidentified Lifeform. In fact, he even looked heroic with his red chest and round shoulder armor, as well as the black helmet framed by three golden horns, two long and curved over the red eyes separated by the shorter horn placed in the middle. Holding the monster back, ichijo's rescuer let out a sound from behind the silver mouthplate.

"Oriyaa!" he shouted with a powerful kick of his dark, armored foot.

The ankle armor flashed gold in front of Ichijo's eyes. This time, the Unidentified LIfeform had been taken off its feet and splashed into the waters under the bridge. The foot went back with its other, an identical copy. Ichijo, gathering his full sense, noted his savior, and the belt that solidified his presence; ancient and silver with four colored buttons, a red gem in the center of the oval-shaped buckle, and a familiar symbol on the side pads.

"It can't be…" Ichijo unknowingly said aloud, staring up at the warrior's red eyes.

The warrior did not bother to acknowledge it. He charged forward, kicking up dirt and water on his way to the monstrous murderer. Getting on its quivering legs, the Unidentified Lifeform could only stare and exclaim, "Bagaba! Kuuga!?"

If it had been a question, then the warrior responded with a punch to the face. He did not give his enemy time to fight back, cranking back his right arm and throwing one fist after the other. The Unidentified Lifeform took a step and did so again from the warrior's next punch, and the next punch, and next, and the next. It held up its own nimble arms as shields against the powerful strikes, and its painful groans echoed with panting grunts.

Watching from across the small ditch, Ichijo's eyes darted over to the groaning Jackson. "Hey!" he cried and got to his feet, rushing to the other cop lying prone in the tiny stream.

Jackson's groaning rose when Ichijo rolled him on his side. He was hurt, his right arm contorted at a weird angle, but still alive. "Don't worry. I'll call the hospital!" Ichijo assured Jackson and whipped out his phone.

A woman on the other side of Ichijo's phone caught his attention. "Hello, this is nine-one-one. State your emergency."

"This is Detective Ichijo Kaoru. Injured cop in Central Park," was all Ichijo said before he hung up, not carrying for the slight 'r' in his word as his eyes went back to the fight.

In the shadow of the bridge, the warrior whaled the Unidentified Lifeform with punch after punch. Each hit was fueled by hatred that left the warrior in loud shouts. The monster's defense withered away under the constant barrage, and the best it could do was dodge. The warrior gave chase, and the two combatants continued their little dance in the water. Every thrown fist was a sign of strength on the warrior's part, and weakness on the monster's as it ran away.

To Ichijo, he saw the anger put into each strike, and he heard it echo in his savior's voice. That rage was unnerving, and Ichijo thought he saw someone else fighting the Unidentified Lifeform. For a second, it was not a warrior in red… but one in black.

"Orah!" the warrior shouted, kicking his enemy away.

As the Unidentified Lifeform landed on the other side of the bridge, the warrior stood there, still red with rage. With a silent breath, he drew his right arm in front and left arm over his buckle. Then, he swung them to his sides, bringing them back with his right leg. For a few seconds, his masked gaze was ever-focused on the Unidentified Lifeform slowly rising on shaking legs.

Once those seconds passed, the warrior sprinted forward. Dirty water splashed under his left foot and sizzled under the right. The warrior rushed in one step, then two steps, then three and four. At the fifth and final one, the warrior leaped and somersaulted into the air.

"ORIYAA!" the warrior cried and fell on the Unidentified Lifeform with his right foot out, burning with power.

The minute he met the ground, that power exploded into a burst of flames.

Ichijo fell over Jackson to shield the other man from the oncoming heat. Any remnant of the explosion weakly passed over the two cops, leaving them to only hear a quiet wind. Ichijo removed himself from Jackson and watched the red warrior standing in a circle of dying flames. The Unidentified Lifeform, the monster, was nowhere to be seen. It would have meant that it was destroyed, but the warrior did not relax.

That worried Ichijo, seeing his savior search all over for any sign of the Unidentified Lifeform. Ichijo found it lurching on the bridge overhead. It rushed off, limping away from the scene while it could.

The warrior, also watching, took a step forward, ready to pursue. Even with Jackson barely conscious and hurt in front of him, the Japanese cop eyed him. Opening his mouth, Ichijo called out the warrior's real name.

"GODAI!"

The warrior stopped in his place and noticed Ichijo. However, when the warrior turned, Ichijo froze. The red, round eyes glowed from the flames, hauntingly staring back at him. Even if they covered the real eyes underneath, Ichijo felt an intense coldness radiate off those bug-like lenses. The warrior then turned away, red orbs blurring as he ran off as fast as he could.

All Ichijo could do was watch the figure of Kuuga retreat into the night. The blare of ambulance trucks and cop cars were deaf to Ichijo's ears. All he heard was the name coming out of his own mouth again.

"Godai..."

AN: And that's chapter 1 of the story. It's taken me a REAL LONG time to even get to this, and who knows how long it will take for me to publish chapter 2 (and I apologize for both). Nonetheless, I do hope you all have liked this story. Please review to let me know what your thoughts are on this.

Also, I want to give a huge shout out to Kamen Rider Lynx. I managed to get in touch with her about this, and her initial feedback and encouragement helped me to finish this chapter. Lynx herself has made some of her fanfiction, sequels to Kamen Rider Dragon Knight (you know, the good American Kamen Rider show?), so I suggest any fans of KRDK to read them if you want.

Like I said, it will take some time for me to get to the next chapter (and hopefully, I'll get a co-author to help speed things along). Until then, that's it for now. Take care.

Raika out.