The mist curled like fingers around the flickering lamps of Umbra Vale’s decaying avenues. Neon buzzed. Sirens murmured in the distance. The kind of city that never slept—but where nightmares still hunted.

A man lay twitching in the alley. Wrinkled coat, unshaven face, haunted eyes clamped shut. His body convulsed with every sharp intake of breath. People walked past. No one stopped.

But he did.

Kamen Rider Dream knelt beside the man.

Kamen Rider Dream: This one’s deep under. Third one this week. Damn you, Nightmelions!

He pressed a hand to the man’s forehead. A pulse of violet light flashed. Then—he seemingly disappeared. The homeless man began to toss and turn even more. He movements became more and more irratic, and then finally-

SCREECH

From the man’s body emerged a twisted, slithering beast—like a living inkblot, humanoid only in mockery. Its mask-like face was cracked porcelain, leaking a tar-like substance from its eyes. Long arms dragged behind it as it crawled from the nightmare realm into the world of the waking. Dream was right behind him, as the man bolted awake, and screamed as he ran away. 

Kamen Rider Dream: Dream Eater. You just don’t learn, do you?

The Dream Eater hissed in a fractured child’s voice.

Dream Eater: He dreamed of fire… of hunger… we only gave him what he wanted!

Kamen Rider Dream: You intended to turn his nightmares into a gateway to control. You're all the same, but why? The Somnarch never told me. Maybe I could beat it out of you.

Dream stood, cracking his knuckles beneath his gloves. A swirling sigil of light and shadow formed around his waist—the Dream Driver activating.

Kamen Rider Dream: No? Then let’s turn your bedtime story into a nightmare.

The Dream Eater charged—legs bending backward, moving like a broken marionette.

Dream side-stepped and drove a hard elbow into its midsection, followed by a spinning kick that sent it tumbling across the rain-slick pavement.

But it twisted—literally—and latched onto a nearby parked car, crawling across the surface like a spider. It launched toward him in a spinning dive.

Dream summoned the Dream Blade, a weapon shimmering like it was carved from diamond itself.

CLANG!

The sword clashed with the Dream Eater’s claws, sparks showering the alley. They grappled, twisting in a dance of shrieking metal and inhuman growls.

Kamen Rider Dream: You know, for something that feeds on imagination… you’re painfully predictable.

With a smooth pivot, he plunged the Dream Sword through the creature’s center.

The Dream Eater shrieked and backed away. Dream swirled the sword above his head, and summoned a familar ball of light. 

Kamen Rider Dream: NIGHTMARE SMASHER!!!

With a quick swing, he brought the ball down onto the Dream Eater, and left an explosive crater in its wake. 

Kamen Rider Dream: Your nightmare is over!

Nacht powered down and breathed in the night air. He closed his eyes, and saw a familiar scene. A fleeting moment of fire and pain. Someone was crying. A child. Had he saved the child? Had he failed? He suddenly snapped back to his senses as he felt a presence behind him. 

Nyxara: Why do you persist? 

Nacht: I guess I took a nap and you found me again? How do you keep doing that? 

Nyxara: We're connected. Surely you remember that much. 

Nacht: I remember that the Somnarch told me to fight you. That's what I've been going on. 

Nyxara: Why would you fight the Nightmelions...when you ARE...a Nightmelion. 

Nacht: Me? A Nightmelion?! What? 

Nyxara: Think about it. You control nightmares, just like we do. 

Nacht: I give dreams to people, not nightmares! 

Nyxara: You were soft. You were exposed to one too many dreams, and betrayed your purpose. Meanwhile we were exposed to the Death Realm, and we saw the purpose, the true reality of it all. We merely wish to open the eyes of humanity, by closing them forever, in eternal sleep. To that end we needed the energy to awaken the Dusk .

Nacht: I don't understand! Why? What's the point!? Leave the people alone! The whole point was to guard people in their sleep, not to use them, abuse them, and lock them in eternal slumber. Surely you-

Nacht grabbed Nyxara by the hands, which triggered something in them both. Suddenly, Nacht saw it, a glimmer of his past. He saw burning. He heard a woman calling out in grief. He found himself in the Dream Realm. He saw Nyxara. He saw himself kissing Nyxara. She apparently saw the same thing, as she backed away in shock. 

Nyxara: What? What was that? What did you do? 

Nacht: I'm just as confused as you are!

Suddenly, Nyxara's brother Devorian appeared from the shadows. 

Devorian: Are you attempting to steal my sister away from me again, Nacht? 

Nacht: What? 

Devorian: You were running for so long. Tell me, why did you decide to stay here? Why in Umbra Vale? 

Nacht: I don't-

Devorian: Because of her? Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. You would betray my poor sister's heart. No wonder I had to remove you from her mind, but it seems I didn't finish the job. This time, I'll get it right. This time, I'll be done with you once and for all, and the collected nightmare energies we have gathered will awaken the beast long dormant. The beast that controls life and death, dreams and nightmares, and even time itself! The Nightmare Child! The Somnia Dusk will awaken! Hahahaha! 

Nyxara: What? I-

Nacht: Not if I can help it!

Belt: Nacht into Dream! 

Nacht: HENSHIN!

Dream pulled out his Dream Blade and rushed Devorian, who was about to attack as well, until they were both stopped by a bright light, but not a warm or inviting light. A light that filled Dream with dread as he gazed upon it, and from behind that light, a figure stood.






Weeks later, in the ruins of the Westbrook Institute, a very confused Cole Beckett was staring down the barrel of the Ashen Revolver of Asher, head of the Magnus Foundation. 

Cole Beckett: You're confusing me. I'm not easily confused. At least I don't think I am. Maybe I am. The point is, I'm confused. 

Asher: You're not the only Kamen Rider. 

Cole Beckett: No, I knew that much. I saw it on the news. What happened in Hanta City. That's when I decided to become a Kamen Rider myself. Gauge became Kamen Rider Gauge. 

Asher: I surmise that the creator of your suit must've known about the lens runes. It pulls in something different though. Something much different. 

Cole Beckett: Temporal pressure. 

Asher: Interesting. 

Cole Beckett: Do you know about it? 

Asher: Not one bit. Forgive me, I'm a bit..."antiquated". 

Cole Beckett: So I can tell. Could you point the gun somewhere else please?

Asher: Huh? Oh! Forgive me once again. Poor manners, but time is limited. 

Cole Beckett: Yeah, you said you needed my help. Might I ask why? 

Asher: Your abilites, they revolve around time, and I believe they would be useful in the investigation. 

Cole Beckett: Investigation? 

Asher: The Magnus Foundation is a group created to combat evil, and while that was originally just the Wraith, it has grown to include any threat to humanity. I came into contact with another Kamen Rider named Dream, when we dealt with a combined threat from the Nightmelions and...an old enemy. We learned about this plot, and I intended to keep tabs on Dream to see if we could offer assistance. A few weeks ago, he went missing. We're afraid it's connected to the problem we're suffering right now. No dreams...only nightmares...nightmares about "The Dusk". 

Cole Beckett: I'm not sure how you want me to help, but this sounds like something that's going to get worse if I don't help. So I don't really have a choice in the matter. You lead the way. Hope you got room for my ride. Since I found its new feature, I'm not going anywhere without it. 

Asher: Actually, I was hoping you could uh...give us a lift? I'm getting better but I still don't drive very well. 

Cole Beckett: Oh yeah?

Aria Westbrook entered the "Back in Time" watch repair shop, having gotten little sleep. The strange nightmares had only gotten worse in recent days. 

Aria Westbrook: Cole? Are you here? Don't worry I'm not here to have my clock fixed again. In fact, I'd like to break it. I feel like I'm not getting any sleep. Cole? I wanted to talk to you about something I found. I was in the wreckage of the Westbrook Institute recently, don't ask why. I found this half burned data drive. I was wondering if we could clean it up and salvage anything from-

She heard the roaring sound of a motorcyle behind her. She jumped and spun around to see Cole leaving with a mysterious figure riding with him. 

Aria Westbrook: When did he even get that thing? Cole! Come back!

Aria ran outside, but she didn't make it in time. Ty Mercado came strutting down the road with a burrito and smoothie. 

Ty Mercado: He's leaving. 

Aria Westbrook: I can see that. Where is he going? 

Ty Mercado: Said he had some business to attend to out of town. The guy on the bike was paying big bucks for Cole to restore a classic timepiece or something. 

Aria Westbrook: Couldn't even tell us sooner? 

Ty Mercado: Apparently it just came up. 

Aria Westbrook: He's always keeping me at arms length. 

Ty Mercado: No seriously, it just came up. I just found out myself. 

Aria Westbrook: But that's unusual right? 

Ty Mercado: Um...he does tend to fill me in. Sure. 

Aria Westbrook: My point exactly. 

Ty Mercado: Ah.

Cole and Asher had a lengthy trip ahead of them, as they drove by Metro City and Fourside to get to their destination of Umbra Vale, the last known location of Kamen Rider Dream. A city of abstract design, it was a far cry from the pipework and steam that covered Arcadia City. 

Asher: You don’t talk much.

Cole Beckett: Neither do you.

Asher: I'm just used to a different type of company. Two of them actually. One has a big mouth, but he backs it up. 

Cole Beckett: You'll find my level of snark appropriate to the situation.

They approached a traffic light—flickering between red and green in slow, inconsistent pulses. As they rolled to a stop, Cole tapped his fingers on the handle bars and glanced absently to the sidewalk.

Then he saw her.

A woman knelt in front of a soot-stained chain-link fence, the lot beyond it empty except for blackened stone and concrete rubble. Charred remnants of what once stood there—a building long gone.

She placed a simple wreath of lilies and dandelions on the ground, her hands trembling.

She wasn’t crying loudly. No sobs. Just silent grief. Her shoulders gently quaked as she stared into the ruins, as if hoping the ashes might speak back.

Cole blinked, suddenly aware of how quiet it was.

The light turned green—but he didn’t move.

Asher: Something wrong?

Cole Beckett: Just a familiar sight is all. 

Asher: Grief and trauma, seen to be in the building blocks of the Kamen Riders. Have you lost anyone important?

Cole didn’t answer right away.

Cole Beckett: Everyone is important to someone. We're like gears in a clock. We all work together, and when you take one out, you have chaos and disorder. You'd figure it would be enough to destroy the clock, and yet we keep on ticking. 

Asher: Humanity. Our bodies might be weak, but our spirit and time on this Earth...it's unbreakable.

Cole Beckett: I guess so. 

The woman placed a small photo beside the wreath—a snapshot, hard to make out through the glass of the frame. Then she stood, wiped her eyes, and slowly walked away down the sidewalk, her figure framed in the soft glow of the dying sun.

Asher: Places like this... they hold echoes.

Cole shifted the Clockwork Runner back into drive, glancing once more at the photo now left alone in the dust.

Cole Beckett: I hate ghosts.

The bike pulled forward as the light changed again, its flickering rhythm now a steady green.

Cole Beckett stood at the edge of a crater, hands in his coat pockets. Steam from a nearby drainage pipe hissed into the evening air, and moths flitted through the purple dusk. The air smelled of rust and something faintly… scorched.

Behind him, Asher walked slowly, his eyes scanning the twisted frame.

Asher: This is where he disappeared.

Cole said nothing. He just looked ahead, jaw tight.

Asher: No one knows what happened. No reports. No witnesses. Just… vanished. Like a dream you forget by morning.

Cole Beckett: Fitting, I guess.

Asher turned to him.

Asher: You can rewind time.

Cole Beckett: Excuse me?

Asher: You have the Driver. The suit. The Temporal Pressure. You can wind the moment back, can't you? 

Cole Beckett: Is that why you needed my help? That's why? N-No.

Asher: Cole—

Cole Beckett: I said no.

The silence snapped between them like a broken watch spring. Cole’s voice echoed slightly, swallowed by the trees.

Cole Beckett: I did do it. Once. You don’t know what that does to the world. What it does to me.

Asher narrowed his eyes.

Asher: Then tell me.

Cole stepped forward, rubbing his temples. The very suggestion of turning time back had pulled something up—something buried.

He saw it in his mind’s eye again. The Westbrook Institute, trembling. Glass floating upward instead of falling. People screaming, un-screaming, running backward. And the terrible stillness that followed. A silence that bent the world.

He clenched his fists.

Cole Beckett:I did it once. One time.

He looked at Asher, pain and fury in equal measure behind his eyes.

Cole Beckett: Time broke that day. That horrible day. And I helped it break.

Asher remained still, like a statue against the dying light.

Asher: I understand, but something dreadful is on the horizon. It might already be here. If you don’t look back now, Dream might be lost forever. We might not have the tools to deal with this threat.

The wind stirred.

Cole Beckett: I can’t change anything. I won’t. If he's dead-

Asher: I’m not asking you to change. Just see.

Cole looked away, breathing through clenched teeth.

Cole Beckett: Fine. But understand something.

He stepped toward the center of the ruins, reaching into his coat and retrieving the Chrono Engine Driver. As he attached it to his waist, the ticking of his pocket watch echoed louder than before.

Cole Beckett: If I misstep, even for a second, we don’t just lose Dream.

He slowly turned the dial on his Driver.

Cole Beckett: We lose everything.

He pressed the activation switch.

Cole Beckett: Calibrate. Lock. Ignite. RIDE THE PRESSURE! HENSHIN!

Steam erupted from Cole as the suit formed around him. Kamen Rider Gauge now stood in the crater. He placed his hand on the damage as the steam seemed to re-enter his suit, and then the air around him seemed to become steam as he gathered more and more temporal pressure. Asher could feel it for a brief moment before he became still. 

The ruins shimmered.

Color drained from the world.

And time began to rewind.

The world wound backward.

Smoke retreated into burned-out walls. The sky darkened to twilight again. Footsteps that had once vanished began to echo once more. Shadows of the past slithered back into their rightful places, and Cole Beckett, now fully suited as Kamen Rider Gauge, stood invisible in a world not his own—a ghost in rewind.

At first, nothing.

Then… motion.

He saw him—Kamen Rider Dream, standing in the cracked concrete lot, posture tense but unsure. The visor glinted under a dim lamplight. Opposite him, standing tall with arms crossed, was Devorian—clad in black robes with eyes like dying stars.

The tension was thick, their standoff palpable. They were about to fight it out, but a sudden burst of light caught them off guard. 

A light descended.

Not warm. Not divine.

Dreadful.

The very air rippled, the sky peeled apart in a narrow, vertical slit—like the world’s pupil being forced open.

And from that impossible wound stepped a figure made of light, its features indistinct, its shape flickering like an unstable projection. Its presence wasn't just bright—it was invasive. 

Dream’s breath caught. He took one step forward—helmet tilted.

Kamen Rider Dream: You?! What did they do to you?!

Devorian: Oh, this is rich! Of all the faces to wear—of course you’d choose that one. The nightmare child was with us all along! Ahahaha!

Off to the side, barely noticed before, stood Nyxara… her expression had changed.

For a flicker of a second, the corruption fell away from her features. Her crimson eyes went soft. Her mouth trembled.

Nyxara: Dream? Nacht. What have I done? Devorian! What did you make me do to my beloved!

She took one hesitant step forward.

Nyxara: That face? How dare you! N-No… please don’t take him...

Her voice cracked—real, not like the cruel mask she usually wore.

She lunged.

The figure didn’t even look at her. With the mere gesture of its arm, it swatted her away like an insect. A blast of force hurled her across the lot and through the open bay of an abandoned warehouse. Her scream was cut off by the crash of steel and concrete.

Gauge flinched, stepping forward instinctively—but he had to stop. He couldn't interfere. 

Dream turned toward her—but the figure now loomed over him, and the ground beneath their feet fractured with light.

Kamen Rider Gauge: What is this? Not one of the Thirteen Hands. What are you…?

He tried to focus. To peer through the glare. But something was wrong. His visor began to spark.

Suddenly, the figure turned its head.

Right toward him.

Kamen Rider Gauge: You can’t see me. You shouldn’t be able to—

The figure lifted one hand, and the world began to come apart.

Light shot toward Gauge like a blade—and time collapsed around him.

He screamed as he was flung backward—through seconds, through minutes—through reality itself.

Back in the present…

Cole hit the ground hard, gasping for breath. His watch was sparking, the Driver nearly fried. Asher rushed to his side.

Asher: What did you see?

Cole Beckett: Not what. Who. I saw her for a brief moment. A woman. 

Asher: And?

Cole Beckett: She saw me. She saw me, and she flung me back here. 

Asher: We're dealing with something very troubling. Did you see what happened to Dream?

Cole Beckett: No. But-

Cole looked over at the warehouse. 

Cole Beckett: I might have seen someone that can help.

Cole ran to the warehouse, with Asher not far behind. 

Cole Beckett: By the way, how did you know where to find this place? 

Asher: Camera system. I have friends in high places. 

Cole Beckett: I might need to meet these friends. 

Asher: I think you're right. 

The warehouse stood like a tomb, walls stained with rust and rot, shadows stitched together by moonlight piercing through broken skylights. The air was thick with mildew and scorched ozone. Old banners for concerts and charity events still hung in tatters—mocking reminders of a time long past.

Cole Beckett stepped forward, hand still clutching his chest, the memory of the figure's gaze lingering like a burn behind his eyes.

Asher followed closely behind, his boots crunching across broken glass and loose debris.

Asher: Is this where she landed?

Cole Beckett: Yeah. She tried to stop it… that thing. Tried to reach Dream.

They moved deeper into the warehouse. The air was unnaturally cold, like stepping into a forgotten dream. In the far corner, where a collapsed speaker rig and torn backdrop formed a tangled shrine of ruined music, they saw her.

Nyxara, crumpled in a heap.

Her fingers twitched slightly.

Her face was revealed. A beautiful young woman. She looked familiar. 

Asher: She's breathing. She’s still alive.

Cole Beckett: Barely.

They approached slowly, cautious. Asher knelt down to check her pulse, while Cole kept one hand hovering near his Driver.

That’s when it began.

A sound like static and whispers, crawling through the walls.

Nyxara’s body jerked suddenly—unnaturally.

Her mouth opened wide in a silent scream.

And then it erupted.

From her forehead, as if tearing through the fabric of her mind, a shape slithered out, blooming like smoke and nightmares. It stretched upward, gaining size, mass, and terrible form.

A twisted version of Nyxara—eyes glowing violet, fanged maw where her mouth once was, and serpentine limbs adorned with cracked porcelain masks. Her armored bodysuit distorted into baroque patterns of black and deep crimson. Her voice, if it could be called that, sounded like a symphony played backwards.

Dream Eater Nyxara: D̵̗̳̪̮͇̖̾̽̑͆̈́̕͠ͅR̵̢̡̤̖͉̪̞̻̐͗̿͂̐̐̾͊Ē̶̺̮̻̘̯̽͌̚̕͝ͅĄ̵̖̟͖̥̄̆͒͌̒̐̚ͅM̵̛͖͓̤̯̞͙̺̼̒̓͐̽̏̀̓M̶̛̱̲̹̮͙̰̩̙̫͗̅͂́M̶̤̰̬͉͚̟̹͛̄̕M̵̡̹̺̩̲̩̀̐̄̋̎̀̕͝M̶͕̹̘͊̍̏̎͛̓̕͜͝͠M̷̢̛̛̖̯̳̙̐̎̈́̅̾͋͘M̸̜̾̈́̎̅̆M̸̜̱̹̓́͒̍͒̀͝M̶̖͈̳͙̞̜̽̇͑̄͘M̵̲̘̼̼̠̞̯̍͒̈́͝Ṁ̴̢̛̛̠͕̹̕͝͝

Asher: That’s not her anymore.

Cole Beckett: That’s a nightmare.

Both stepped back and took their stances.

Cole Beckett: Calibrate. Lock. Ignite. RIDE THE PRESSURE! HENSHIN!

Cole once again transformed, the plates, gears, and metal forming around him, as he became Kamen Rider Gauge. He was ready to fight but first-

Belt: CHEATING LIFE, STEALING DEATH.

Kamen Rider Gauge: Huh?

Asher: Henshin.

Flames swirl as armor wraps around Asher’s form.

Belt: KAMEN RIDER ASH!

Kamen Rider Gauge: Outstanding!



The Dream Eater lunged, its clawed limbs slashing the air with thunderclap ferocity. Gauge rolled underneath, his boot jets flaring briefly as he slid behind her and launched a rapid combo of steam enhanced strikes.

Ash moved with deadly efficiency—every shot from his Ashen Revolver striking where psychic tendrils tried to extend.

Kamen Rider Gauge: She's faster than she looks!

Kamen Rider Ash: Stand fast, Kamen Rider, we must defeat this foe! 

The Dream Eater split into three mirror images, flanking them, shrieking in fractured stereo.

Kamen Rider Ash: Don’t let them surround us!

Kamen Rider Gauge: I’ve got her core!

He hit the center clone with a Pressure Palm, causing it to reel backward in a burst of steam. Parts of her body cracked, revealing flickers of Nyxara’s unconscious face beneath the layers.

Kamen Rider Ash: She's still in there!

The creature shrieked again, now in Nyxara’s voice, distorted and broken.

Dream Eater Nyxara: NACHT! HELP ME!

He nodded to Ash.

Kamen Rider Gauge: Let’s end this clean.

Kamen Rider Ash: Together.

The two leapt—steam and fire in tandem—as they called out in perfect harmony.

Kamen Rider Gauge: STEAM SPIRAL KICK!

Kamen Rider Ash: ASHEN COMET DROPKICK! 

The combined blow tore through the Dream Eater’s form. With a deafening shatter like glass and static, the monster exploded in a burst of glowing fragments.

The warehouse fell silent again.

At the center of the scorched floor, Nyxara lay unconscious, breathing weakly—but no longer tainted.

Kamen Rider Ash: I believe that was Dream Eater, and I believe it was controlling this poor woman. 

Kamen Rider Gauge: We need to get her help. Do we take her to the hospital?

Kamen Rider Ash: No, I know a place. 

Kamen Rider Gauge: ... 

The blades of the helicopter chopped the air with authority, whipping dust and bits of paper across the rooftop of the Geist Corporation’s Umbra Vale branch. The building itself was half-wrapped in scaffolding and flashing hazard tape—clear signs of recent damage, still under repair from the last time Blake Faust had stopped by.

The helicopter door swung open, and Blake Faust stepped out with an infectious grin, his trench coat whipping behind him, the Faust Driver gleaming proudly at his waist like a badge of power he had no intention of hiding.

Blake Faust: Ah, smell that? Charred ambition. My kinda place.

He gave a finger-gun to a stunned technician and ruffled the hair of a nearby security guard, who could only blink at the sight of the world-famous CEO strolling across the roof.

Blake Faust: Tell the engineers if they want this place patched up before next quarter, they better stop hiring ghosts. Geist Corporation only takes the living these days!

He laughed—charming, magnetic. The workers, even if overwhelmed, couldn’t help but smile back.

As he entered the building and the lobby doors slid open, his boots echoed confidently, cutting through the murmurs of confused staff. His assistant, a nervous man in a blue vest, jogged up to him with a tablet in hand.

Assistant: M-Mr. Faust! We weren’t expecting you until—

Blake Faust: The new line of Cafe Noir brand coffee was released? I'll need a new Java Coffington suit by the way. I loaned out the other one to that wrestling company. A wrestling mascot is good for business. I'm sure Lizbeth is thrilled. Now, where's Asher? 

Assistant: Hmm? Oh, the strange man with the clearance card? He's in Sector C. He and another man brought in a woman. 

Blake Faust: Another man? Johnathan? 

Assitant: No sir. It was someone else. 

Blake Faust: I see. Anything he needs—anything—he gets it. I don't care if he asks for a laser or a battleship or a sandwich. Just make it happen.

He waved the assistant off and walked away, casually adjusting the Faust Driver with one hand as if it were a fashion accessory, while his other hand checked his reflection in the glass wall.

Blake Faust: Let’s see what kind of mess you’ve stepped into this time, old man.

The atmosphere in Sector C was hushed—clinical, sterile, and lined with glass partitions and softly humming monitors. The dim lighting glinted off the pale blue glow of diagnostic screens. Machines pulsed rhythmically beside the bed where Nyxara lay unconscious, electrodes mapping brain waves, her breathing steady but shallow. 

Cole Beckett stood by the wall, arms crossed, his eyes bouncing between Nyxara and the strange readouts projecting from the scanner beside her bed. The internal composition scans were a mess—entangled like broken sheet music rewritten by a mad conductor.

Cole Beckett: I can't make heads or tails of anything of that, but I get the feeling it's strange.

Across the room, Asher stood in front of the display screen, quietly analyzing the data with a focused expression. He looked worn—noticeably more than he had a day ago. His jawline seemed heavier, eyes slightly sunken. The grey streak in his hair had deepened.

Cole’s brow furrowed. He took a few slow steps forward, squinting.

Cole Beckett: Hey, not to sound rude, but… you look older. Like… way older. That wasn’t there yesterday.

Asher: That’s because it wasn’t there yesterday.

He finally turned, rubbing his neck with a wince as if his muscles ached.

Asher: Transforming into Ash burns time—my time. It siphons away my lifeforce. Not all at once, but every battle takes a bit more.

Cole took a slow breath, the weight of it hitting harder than he expected.

Cole Beckett: You’ve been doing this… knowing what it costs?

Asher: We all have our debts to pay. I've been doing this for a very long time. I know the risks.

Before Cole could say anything more, the automatic doors to Sector C whooshed open, accompanied by the distinct tap-tap-tap of designer shoes on marble.

Blake Faust strode into the room.

Blake Faust: Hello, old man. You've looked better. How are you holding up, gentlemen?

Asher visibly winced.

Asher: Blake…

Blake Faust: No speeches, not yet. Your pod is ready, and we'll get you back to your old self in no time.

Cole blinked, shifting on his heels as he took in Blake’s presence. The man exuded authority and charm in equal measure.

Cole Beckett: You’re… Blake Faust. Geist CEO?

Blake Faust: In the flesh. And you must be Cole Beckett—the clock fixer who "lets off steam" in his spare hours.

Cole Beckett: You could say that.

Blake Faust: You've made quite the impact.

Blake extended his hand. Cole hesitated, then shook his hand. Blake’s grip was firm—maybe too firm—but friendly.

Blake looked toward Nyxara’s bed, his tone softening slightly.

Blake Faust: So I hear this one is lucky to be alive. I've been there before. I know her. We've met before. She was quite the pain. 

Cole Beckett: It wasn’t her fault.

Blake Faust: Rarely is. Must've been a nightmare. Speaking of which, anyone else having a lot of those lately? 

Cole Beckett: Seems everyone is. 

Blake Faust: Oh. Thought so. 

The moment hovered in silence for a beat. Machines beeped. Then, as Blake straightened his jacket and turned to go:

Blake Faust: Meet me outside, new guy. I want to have a talk in less constricted space. 

Cole hesitated again. He looked to Nyxara before leaving down the hallway. A voice that had been oddly suspicious in its absense finally spoke up. 

Pocket Watch: This was not something I expected to witness. 

Cole Beckett: There you are! You haven't said anything about this! 

Pocket Watch: Because I don't know what's going on. I had nothing to add. 

Cole Beckett: Oh. I guess that makes sense then. 

Pocket Watch: The man in front of you is Blake Faust, head of the Geist Corporation. I know that much. They were funding the research that led to your suit, but I surmise it was during his absense, when they were engaged in shadier behavior. 

Cole Beckett: See, you do know some things. 

Pocket Watch: I'm monitoring the situation. 

Cole Beckett: Uh-huh.

Cole stepped out onto the rooftop helipad to find Blake Faust looking out at the sky. 

Blake Faust: These nightmares are starting to get on my nerves. Then I find out Nacht is missing, but we've got you. Tell me, what do you bring to table?

Cole Beckett: In what regard? 

Blake Faust: I need to find out for myself. Hope you don't mind. 

Belt: In the name of Faust, I fight for Justice! 

Blake Faust: Henshin.




Blake Faust was suddenly engulfed in green light, as he stepped forward as a Kamen Rider of his own creation. Kamen Rider Faust. 

Kamen Rider Faust: Your move, Mr. Beckett. 

Cole Beckett: You can just call me Cole. Calibrate. Lock. Ignite. RIDE THE PRESSURE! HENSHIN! 

Kamen Rider Faust: Oh that's a cool transforma-

They clashed—first blow a thunderous elbow lock, sending ripples through the puddles. Sparks flew from Faust’s gauntlet as it scraped across Gauge’s shoulder plate.

Gauge ducked and delivered a piston-powered uppercut—steam bursting from his elbow vents, launching Faust into a backward handspring. Faust twisted mid-air and landed on the edge of the rooftop.

Kamen Rider Faust: Not bad. Let’s see how long that steam lasts.

He pressed his driver, accessing power into his fist.

Kamen Rider Faust: FAUSTIAN FIST!

Faust came at Gauge with a powerful and raging fist, that he was barely able to block. Faust pushed him all the way across the roof, but Gauge was able to plant his feet just before going over the edge. 

Kamen Rider Faust: Impressive. Let’s dial it up.

He threw a series of haymakers, nothing fancy, just enough to throw Gauge off guard. Faust hit the aperture of his belt again, and landed a sickening knee to the chest of Gauge. 

Gauge stumbled backward—steam venting violently from his sides.

Kamen Rider Gauge: Alright, fine. Time for your pressure check.

He activated his finisher.

Kamen Rider Gauge: STEAM SPIRAL KICK!

The gears in his legs spun furiously, red-orange jets firing from his ankles as he spun into a drilling kick.

Kamen Rider Faust: I was hoping you’d say that.

He activated his own.

Kamen Rider Faust: FAUSTIAN JUSTICE!

Both Riders flew toward each other—a blur of bronze and neon green, sparks bursting like fireworks as they collided midair. The impact shattered part of the rooftop, sending both flying backward through separate HVAC units.

Steam hissed. Rain sizzled on metal.

Kamen Rider Gauge: So we done posturing yet?

Kamen Rider Faust: Posturing? I like this guy. That wasn't posturing. Call it a stress test. I want to know what I'm working with.

He turned and walked to the rooftop door, powering down in the process. 

Blake Faust: Next time, it'll be for fun, and I won't hold back. 

Kamen Rider Gauge: Next time, make sure you bring back up. 

Blake Faust: Oh, so you've met Johnathan? Maybe I was HIS back up. Hard to say. 

Kamen Rider Gauge: Who?

Blake Faust: If I keep breaking this building, Mom is going to be pissed.

The door closed with a hiss, leaving Gauge alone, steam slowly rising around him in the neon rain.

Soft electronic beeps accompanied the pulse of machinery. In the private room, Nyxara lay unconscious, her vitals steady but fluctuating in strange ways. Her strange biochemistry continued to baffle Geist's medical scanners.

Slouched in a nearby chair, Cole Beckett dozed off, arms crossed and mouth slightly open. The wear of multiple transformations, a rooftop duel, and emotional exhaustion had finally caught up to him.

But this time, the dreams weren’t violent or cryptic.

Cole stood barefoot in a white expanse, the space around him glittering with glimmers of starlight and shifting auroras. It was peaceful. Serene. And then—a figure appeared.

Tall. Cloaked in luminous mist, with gentle eyes and a crown shaped like a crescent moon.

The Somnarch.

Somnarch: You’ve suffered much, Cole Beckett. But you’ve done well. You’ve tilted the axis.

Cole Beckett: Who... what are you?

Somnarch: I am the Somnarch. Steward of the Dream Realm. Guardian of balance.

He floated down onto what felt like glass beneath their feet.

Somnarch: You’ve seen the Nightmelions. They are both curse and cure. Dreams cannot exist without nightmares. They keep the balance between waking hope and sleeping dread.

Cole Beckett:Then why is everything out of balance?

Somnarch:Because one of them refused their role. 

Cole Beckett: Dream? 

Somnarch: No. Nacht yearned to give joy alone, to erase nightmares. He was a Nightmelion who want to reject his role, but he still performed it. He was trustworthy. I trusted him to bear the title of Kamen Rider Dream. It was another who rose to break the balance. Another who rose to shatter it. Devorian. A Nightmelion who loathes mankind’s hearts. With Somnus Dusk, the Nightmare Child—the first Nightmelion—he seeks to plunge all into an eternal dream from which none shall wake. You must find Dream. You must stop them. 

Cole Beckett: What is a Nightmelion even made from? Are they human?

Somnarch: ...They were. They-

Before the Somnarch could finish his answer—

A chime. A light. Reality rippled.

Cole jolted awake, gasping.

Nyxara's eyes were open.

Nyxara: Where... where am I?

Cole blinked, unsure what to say. He just sort of akwardly grinned. 

Moments later, a much more youthful Asher ran into the room, followed by Blake Faust, who was on the phone, getting chewed out. 

Blake Faust: Yes Lizbeth, I understand your new flavor is about to launch, but this is an all hands on deck sort of thing. Yeah, Ashley isn't exactly thrilled about it either, but it comes with the job. I really appreciate it. Thank yo- She hung up on me. Great. I hand to her the best mascot ever conceived and that's how she thanks me. 

Asher: She's awake, Blake. 

Blake Faust: Very good. Glad to you you're alright Miss....Miss?

Cole Beckett: Her name is Nyxara. 

Nyxara: How could you possibly know that? 

Asher: You stand before men who have experienced much. Our minds are open. Please do us the honor of enlightening us further. 

Blake Faust: I like the way he said that. 

Nyxara: How did I even get here? 

Cole Beckett: We found you in a warehouse. A Dream Eater burst out of you. 

Nyxara: A Dream Eater. So he did it. He actually did it. He used a Dream Eater to control me. Devorian, what low won't you stoop to? 

Cole Beckett: This Devorian guy did this to you? 

Nyxara: My own brother. I told him. I said I wasn't interested in his schemes. Resurrecting the Nightmare Child? Unleashing Somnus Dusk? I wanted no part of it. I only wanted my beloved back. He didn't like that answer. 

Cole Beckett: Your beloved? 

Nyxara: Nacht. Devorian staged an uprising, and Nacht stood against him, fought for the Somnarch. Devorian needed the Dream Driver to complete his goals. 

Asher: Where would they have taken Nacht?

Nyxara: I don't know. They can't just take the Driver. It has to be given willingly.

Cole Beckett: Nyxara, can you please tell us something? What IS a Nightmelion?

Nyxara: ...Humans aren't even supposed to know we exist, but I suppose it doesn't matter anymore. If I've lost my beloved...lost my brother....what do I have left? Nightmelions are what is created when a human dies in a nightmare.

Cole Beckett: Dies in a nightmare? 

Blake Faust: That's inspiring. So I just needed to be napping when the Death Gate exploded. Wait, that means Nacht-

Nyxara: Died in a fire.

Last edited by Machismo (7/19/2025 7:51 am)