The skyline over Hanta City glimmered with silver fog and glass towers, but one building cut through it all like the spine of a god — The Geist Corporation Headquarters. Its name glowed in vertical green light, mirrored in every window of the surrounding district. From above, it resembled a circuit—one that pulsed with life.

Inside, the Executive Boardroom, columns of steel coiled upward into halos of glass.

Victor Faust, Geist’s Vice Director of Operations, adjusted his cufflinks—silver, embossed with the Geist sigil—and leaned forward in his chair.

Victor Faust: Profits are up twelve percent this quarter. Humanitarian investments are yielding more long-term returns than we anticipated. The public’s appetite for “corporate conscience” has been very good for business, especially after the incidents prior.

He tapped a tablet, and the holographic display flickered above the table—numbers and graphs like constellations.

Victor Faust: Geist’s Reconstruction Initiative has fully restored four of the outer-ring districts. The damage caused by Legion has been been repaired, and our sponsorship of the EBW company has repaired our public perception.

At the head of the table sat Maggie Faust, matriarch of the family, poised with the grace of a queen. Her silver hair caught the cold light, her tailored white suit crisp and immaculate.

Maggie Faust: You mean we saved people and made money, Victor. That sounds like the original mission statement Richard had.

Victor smiled.

Victor Faust: Blake made morality scalable.

A few of the executives chuckled. Most didn’t. Geist’s humanitarian branch was the company’s crown jewel—the shield against its shadowed past. But everyone at that table knew what powered those lights in the city below.

Maggie turned a page on her digital notepad with deliberate patience.

Maggie Faust: I don’t see Blake here.

Victor sighed, tapping his stylus against the table.

Victor Faust: Of course you don’t. Our beloved CEO...my brother...is somewhere indulging his...extracurricular activities.

He leaned back, gesturing to the glowing logo behind them—the Geist spiral, symbol of life looping back into itself.

Victor Faust: I didn't know how to feel when he admitted to the world that he was the Kamen Rider. I think he did it to throw the attention off his friend who wanted no part of the spotlight, but he's been having fun with it. A public fight at an EBW event, and then a recent trip to Arcadia City. People seem to like it. Hell, after all he's done, I say he can do whatever he wants. If anyone in this room has an issue with the CEO's actions, you can take it up with me.

Maggie’s eyes flicked up at that, calm and sharp.

Maggie Faust: I'm proud of how much you want to look after your older brother.

Victor Faust: You raised us that way. He saved my life.

She allowed herself the faintest smile, then steered the meeting back to motion.

Maggie Faust: Continue.

The Magnus Foundation’s library had been built to outlast earthquakes and empires. Its vaulted ceiling swallowed echoes; its marble columns wore thin crowns of dust that never settled. Shelves ran like dark rivers into shadow, and the lamps were the kind that begged you not to fall asleep beneath them.

Blake Faust sat alone at a long oak table, a fortress of books around him. Titles in three languages were stacked like barricades: Transliminal Cartography, Psychopompic Myths of the First Cities, The Underworld of the Death Realm. He turned a page with the careful hand of a man who had broken too many things.

Footsteps approached—unhurried, certain. Asher came into the pool of lamplight with a mug of something that steamed.

Asher: This is either very light bedtime reading...or you’re looking for trouble.

Blake didn’t glance up. He underlined a line with a pencil.

Blake Faust: If trouble had footnotes, Magnus would’ve filed them here.

Asher set the mug down anyway. The man always did the kind thing first and asked permission later.

Asher: They told me you showed up randomly. Of course you're welcome here anytime, but what are you chasing?

Blake closed the book he’d been carving answers out of. The gilt title caught the lamplight: The Trial of the Night Queen.

Blake Faust: Curiosity.

Asher: That’s what cracked the world the first time. The Faust Family had a curiosity about the Death Realm.

Blake held the look for a moment, then gave the smallest nod—conceding the point without surrendering the argument.

Blake Faust: It’s not the same. This isn’t about power. It’s about my father.

Asher’s face softened. He sat across from Blake, careful not to disturb the architecture of books.

Asher: Your father is dead, Blake.

Blake slid a second volume across the table. The engraving on its frontispiece showed a staircase spiraling into black water and a crowned shape at the bottom—woman, wraith, judge.

Blake Faust: I know that. He died trying to fight the evil that had infected him. I wanted to bring him peace, but I keep having these nightmares. I wish I could ask Nacht about them. Listen, this book captures what I've been dreaming about. The Death Realm...not JUST the Death Realm. I have nightmares about that place all the time, but an underworld beneath it. If the Death Realm has an underworld—the Underworld—and if souls can be bound... where does someone go after being used as a pawn by the Wraith?

Asher tapped the page with a single finger, right over the crown.

Asher: Into myth. The Night Queen Eris is a story the old Riders told to frighten the reckless—an allegory for guilt and justice. A place beneath the grave where your sins are weighed by a woman who forgot how to forgive.

Blake Faust: This says Magnus believed in it, and you believed in Magnus.

That hung between them, heavy as a bell.

Asher: Magnus believed in a lot of things. It’s how he kept walking. It doesn’t mean the map matches the territory.

Blake reached for another book, already open to a ribbon-marked page. The passage was a litany:

“Beneath the city’s veins, where the cold water runs upward, lies the realm of the Lost. The Queen with the black-blood rules there; she punishes the devourers, the oathbreakers, the ones who make engines of souls.”

Blake read it quietly.

Blake Faust: “Engines of souls.”

Asher: You're worried that your father's soul didn't find rest, but that it's trapped in this underworld? 

Blake Faust: I do. I think I was almost ensared by it too. I was fading in the Death Realm until I met Johnathan. He pulled me back from the brink.

Blake took a breath he didn’t enjoy and let it go like a man setting down a heavier weight than the book in his hands.

Blake Faust: If there’s even a chance...if he’s trapped there because of the Wraith—because I couldn’t save him the first time—I can’t sit here and file the myth under fiction.

Asher folded his hands. The lines at the corners of his eyes were maps of other bad nights.

Asher: Then let me say this out loud so we don’t pretend later: your father loved you, and he made bad deals with monsters. He accepted his fate to protect you. If there’s a door beneath the floor, it’s not a door that opens cleanly. People don’t come back the same. Some don’t come back at all.

Blake finally smiled—crooked and tired, a man admitting the cliff is tall.

Blake Faust: I’m good at living with “not the same.”

Asher: And if the Night Queen is real?

Blake Faust: Then I deal with that when I get there.

Blake’s phone buzzed once across the wood—then once more, urgent. He glanced at the screen: Lizbeth Angel.

Blake Faust: Liz—

Lizbeth’s voice arrived as static and grief.

Lizbeth: Blake—please—Café Noir—he just—he just fell—there was someone in a hood—I can’t wake him I can’t—

The library’s silence broke with the scrape of a chair. Blake stood already moving; Asher had the sense not to stop him.

Asher: Go. I'll put the books back.

Blake was gone before the sentence ended.

Café Noir was closed up for the night. The patio’s awning sagged under a fine rain; glass glowed with streetlight halos. On the bricks, Johnathan Angel lay on his side, breathing but unoccupied behind the eyes.

Lizbeth, shaking, knelt beside him, one hand pressed to his cheek. A knocked-over cup bled a crescent of espresso into the cracks, a black shoe-print smudged through it.

Lizbeth Angel: Wake up, Johnathan! What happened?! Answer me! Please!

Blake rushed up beside her and crouched, fingers practiced and gentle. Pupils responsive. Pulse steady. Skin damp with rain, not shock. He knew the look too well—had worn it on a slab once upon a time.

Blake Faust: I know this look. I've been like this before.

Lizbeth swayed. 

Lizbeth Angel: When you were-

Blake didn’t answer.

He scanned the shadows—the alley mouth, and the parked cars. 

A soft voice like wind through a stairwell came from behind him.

???: Your friend is not here.

Blake stood up quickly. The voice belonged to someone small. A boy—or a boy-shape—sat on the café’s railing with his feet not touching the ground. He wore an old-fashioned coat two sizes too big.

Blake Faust: Is that right? What do you know? 

???: I know where he is. I know what happened. I saw it. 

Blake Faust: You have a name?

The boy grinned.

???: Lucen.

Lizbeth stood, instinctively putting herself between Lucen and Johnathan.

Lizbeth Angel: Who are you?

Lucen tipped two fingers off an imaginary hat.

Lucen: A messenger. A map. A guide. 

Blake stepped closer until the lamplight haloed them both. Drops of rain stitched between their outlines.

Blake Faust: Say it straight.

Lucen’s smile thinned to something like pity, which meant he enjoyed this part.

Lucen: The Underworld of the Death Realm is real, Mr. Faust. It has many doors. She knows what you've done. She's extended an invitation through your nightmares. Now, she's made it far more personal.

Lizbeth’s breath hitched.

Lizbeth Angel: Is he dying?

Lucen shook his head, then seesawed his hand.

Lucen: No. Yes. Later. He’s still alive...for now, because someone important wants to use him.

Blake Faust: Who?

Lucen: The Night Queen. Eris.

Asher’s sentence from the library echoed, slow and unhelpful: It’s a myth. The rain made a tiny drumroll on the railing.

Blake Faust: What does she want with Johnathan?

Lucen tilted his head.

Lucen: She doesn't want Johnathan. She wants you. 

Lizbeth closed her eyes a moment, steadied herself on the present, and opened them on Blake.

Lizbeth Angel: Bring him back.

Blake didn’t promise. He looked at Johnathan, then at the boy, then at the water washing the espresso into the cracks like a small map of a larger river.

Blake Faust: And you? Why tell me?

Lucen’s smile turned foxlike.

Lucen: Because I work for her.

Blake’s hands curled and uncurled, unarmed and still dangerous.

Blake Faust: Then why help me?

Lucen: Because she wants you there. The Queen remembers debts. She loves the taste of a sin confessed out loud. She says you owe her a very interesting story.

Blake’s jaw set.

Blake Faust: She wants to torture me.

Lucen: Oh, certainly, but more than that. You're a nightmare to those in the Death Realm. The creatures tell stories of you, like you tell bedtime stories to scare children. The man the Death Realm fears. She’s curious. Very curious.

Lizbeth looked between them, fury flushing through fear.

Lizbeth Angel: If he goes with you, can he bring Johnathan back?

Lucen swung his legs, heel-taps counting to an answer.

Lucen: Who can say?! Haha!

Blake crouched by Johnathan again, smoothing rain from a forehead that didn’t know weather anymore.

Blake Faust: Where’s the door?

Lucen’s grin returned like a coin palmed back into existence.

Lucen: Beneath the Magnus Foundation. The Death Realm. You’ve got the key right there.

He tapped the air an inch above Blake’s driver.

Blake stood. He turned to Lizbeth.

Blake Faust: I’ll go. I’ll bring him home.

He didn’t finish. She did.

Lizbeth Angel: You will.

A siren moaned a few blocks away, thin in the rain. The café’s sign buzzed and went dark, then buzzed again, as if thinking better of it.

Asher arrived at a run—coat open, breath white. He took in the tableau: Johnathan on the bricks, Lizbeth steadying herself with fury, Blake standing with rain in his hair and a boy who didn’t belong perched on human furniture.

Asher: I’m not going to like what happens next, am I?

Blake’s mouth twitched, apology with teeth.

Blake Faust: She's not going to.

Lucen slid off the railing and stood in front of Blake.

Lucen: Say the word.

Blake looked once more at Johnathan—partner, friend, the man who always kept him honest. He looked at Lizbeth—spine like tempered glass. He looked past Asher to the mountains, where the Magnus Foundation building lied. 

Blake Faust: Take me to her.

Blake didn’t flinch. He was very good at living with “not the same.”

The Magnus Foundation’s lower levels weren’t on any blueprints. They predated the modern building—leftovers from the era when science and ritual hadn’t yet learned to be embarrassed by one another. Even the lights seemed uncertain whether they belonged here. Their glow clung to the stone walls in uneven streaks, casting long, nervous shadows.

The echo of footsteps was the only thing alive down here.

Blake Faust moved carefully through the narrow hall, his gloved hand brushing the cold surface of the wall. Behind him, Asher followed, torch in hand, its light slicing through decades of dust and forgotten air.

Asher: I’m still not convinced this place won’t collapse on us.

Blake Faust: We've gone this far.

They turned a corner. The corridor widened into a vast underground chamber lined with an ancient vault, marked with the Magnus Seal.

At its center stood a door. It wasn’t made of steel or stone, but of something else—metal that looked like it had been pulled from the bones of the earth itself.

Lucen stood before it, impossibly calm for someone who didn’t belong to the living world. He was tracing shapes in the air with his finger, the same way a child draws in fog. Each motion left behind faint symbols that shimmered briefly before fading.

Lucen: There it is. The door that leads nowhere here—and everywhere down there.

He turned with that disarming grin that never quite reached his eyes.

Lucen: Beautiful, isn’t it?

Blake Faust: Beautiful’s not the word I’d use, kid.

Lucen’s smile widened just enough to be unsettling.

Asher stepped closer to the vault door, shining his light over the carved runes circling its edge. 

Asher: So this is what he built. The Magnus Gate. He was right. I should always trust Magnus. Always.

Blake Faust: Looks like he was trying to seal off the Underworld, not reach it.

Asher ran his hand over one of the sigils, feeling the faint hum beneath the surface.

Asher: Then you’re about to do exactly what he warned against.

Blake Faust: I know.

He looked down at his Driver. The once-bright surface was dim, the lens at its core flickering faintly.

Blake Faust: The Soul Driver was designed for balance—two sides of the same coin. Without Johnathan...it’s just me. And that means no equilibrium. If I force a transformation in the Death Realm, it might not last. I just tried it recently. It worked...for a little while. I've adjust since then, but...

Lucen turned slightly, hands clasped behind his back like an overly patient teacher.

Lucen: Oh, you’ll hold together. She wants you there. You're not forcing your way into the Death Realm. You're an invited guest! Hahaha!

Asher frowned, then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, circular lens housed in bronze and etched with faded markings that glowed faintly in the dark.

Asher: I think...you might need this.

He handed it to Blake. The moment his fingers touched it, the faint etching pulsed—like a heartbeat.

Blake turned it over, recognition dawning.

Blake Faust: This is Magnus’ isn't it?

Asher: We found it in his private archives. He called it an “anchor” lens—meant for use in hostile dimensional conditions.

He gave a small, wry smirk.

Asher: Which is polite science-talk for “hell.”

Blake nodded, slipping the lens into his pocket.

Lucen clapped his hands once, mock applause echoing in the hollow space.

Lucen: Beautiful. So sentimental. Are we ready to knock on death’s door now, or do you need a few more last words?

Asher shot him a glare. Blake just exhaled through his nose, adjusting his coat.

Blake Faust: You really enjoy this, don’t you?

Lucen: Doing my job is one of my few joys! What can I say! Hahaha!

He stepped toward the vault door, placing one hand on its surface. The metal rippled like disturbed water. Symbols began to flare to life, each rune burning green, then fading into ghostly blue as they moved in a slow spiral toward the center.

Lucen: All right, then. Stand still, hold your breath, and don’t look too hard at what’s on the other side of the threshold.

Asher stepped closer to Blake, lowering his voice.

Asher: Magnus used to say, “Every key has a cost.” You don’t know what this one will demand.

Blake Faust: I’ll figure it out when it comes due.

Asher hesitated for a long moment, then chuckled softly, shaking his head.

Asher: You sound just like Magnus. 

Blake Faust: Really? That’s what scares me. Tell Ashley that I won’t be making it home for dinner?

Asher: I will.

Blake wasted no more time. He quickly struck a pose. 

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

Blake Faust: Henshin!

Kamen Rider Faust touched the door, and flipped the lens in his driver, sending him and Lucen into the Death Realm. The twisted realm looked as it always did to Blake, but the door was now wide open. With a deep breath, he and Lucen stepped through. 

On the other side, there was no light. Only a swirling abyss of deep green and shadow, with shapes moving slow as thoughts inside a dream.

Lucen held out his hand.

Lucen: After you, Mr. Faust.

Blake looked back once. Asher stood there, having turned into Kamen Rider Ash to see him through. 

Kamen Rider Ash: Don’t get lost down there.

Kamen Rider Faust: Here's hoping!

He stepped forward. The moment his boot crossed the threshold, the light from the vault bent inward, pulling him into a spiral that folded everything—sound, air, gravity—into silence.

The last thing Ash saw was the faint green flicker of Faust’s armor, just before the vault door sealed itself shut with a whisper like breath being stolen.

The fall wasn’t like falling. It was slower—like sinking.

Faust didn’t scream. He’d already done enough of that. Instead, he breathed—and every breath came out as light. Emerald mist trailed from his mask, vanishing into the black expanse around him.

When his boots finally struck solid ground, it was on a stoney surface. An underworld, of rock, lit up by the glowing green liquid below. Gaseous pillars rose from the swirling pools. 

Lucen landed beside him without effort, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeves.

Lucen: Welcome to the Underworld of the Death Realm. Don’t mind the noise—it’s just an eternity of pain and suffering.

Faust looked around.

The sky—if it could be called that—was an upside-down version of the waters below, glowing faintly with the light of trapped souls drifting like fish under black ice. Everything was lit in hues of green, teal, and the faintest trace of crimson—colors.

Kamen Rider Faust: Glad I never stumbled into this place when I was partially dead. 

Lucen: She was really hoping that you would.

He took a few steps forward, boots echoing like bells on hollow ground.

Lucen: The Queen’s domain begins further in. But the dead remember the ones who trespass.

He grinned.

The mist began to stir. Shapes formed in it—shadows that twisted themselves into imitation flesh. Familiar outlines began to emerge: one with the elongated claws, another with a melted grin, and behind them, the broken, hulking silhouette of Wraith Cerberus.

Their eyes opened, hollow and white, focused entirely on Blake.

Faust's jaw tightened.

Kamen Rider Faust: That can't be real. 

Lucen: Oh, they’re real. Where did you really think the Wraith go when they're destroyed? They come here.

The Faust Driver pulsed weakly, as though the air itself resisted its function. He reached down, hand hovering over the activation ring. 

Kamen Rider Faust: It's failing. Not now. It can't happen now. Guess I have no choice, but to use that lens. I'm really doing this. Victory at any cost. Here we go.

Faust quickly slotted the lens into the Faust Driver. It was somehow able to react to the ancient power within.

Belt: FAUST DRIVER REAPER MODE.




The air shuddered.

The ground beneath him cracked like glass as the green light burst outward, wrapping him in emerald fire.

Kamen Rider Faust: Reaper huh? Alright....Reaper Form.

His armor assembled in a flash of light and metallic resonance—the green-black plating igniting with runes that pulsed across his arms like veins. A blackened cape wrapped around him. His scythe formed from light and shadow both, solidifying in his hand with a satisfying metallic snap. The Rune Lens glowed on his belt like a living heart.



Lucen gave a theatrical whistle.

Lucen: Stylish! How appropriate! The Faust family brought death incarnate to the world of the living. It stands to reason you'd become a reaper! Haha!

The first Wraith lunged.

Faust spun to meet it, the scythe slicing through the mist—only to meet resistance. The creature screamed, reforming from smoke as the wound sealed itself instantly.

Blake shifted his stance, eyes narrowing.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Damn. Not going to work the same down here.

Lucen clapped lightly.

Lucen: Someone’s been reading the manual.

The ground quaked. Wraith Cereberus brought down a massive arm, shattering a nearby bridge. Shards of vertebrae flew in every direction, glowing faintly like burning bones. Faust Reaper leapt, twisting midair, the scythe spinning once before splitting into two shorter blades.

He landed hard, sliding backward as the claws of a Wraith raked sparks off his armor. He parried, countered, and then drove a kick into its chest—sending the Wraith spiraling into the mist.

But the moment it vanished, another appeared behind him.

Wraith Echo: We never stop dying here.

Blake snarled.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Then I’ll keep killing you.

He lunged forward, the scythe snapping back into full length, arcs of green lightning trailing behind every swing. Each strike connected with a burst of energy—souls screaming free for a second before reforming again.

Lucen watched, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.

Faust stopped, breath fogging the inside of his helmet. He closed his eyes for half a heartbeat—and then he understood.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: The Rune Lens.

He slammed his palm against the lens in his belt. The runes on his armor flared, and spectral energy surged outward in a pulse that rippled through the battlefield. The echoes froze—like film paused mid-frame. Then they screamed, as if feeling true pain once again. Faust Reaper sliced through them with his scythe, and this time, they didn't come back. 

Lucen tilted his head, faintly smiling.

Lucen: Remarkable. You figured of Magnus's intentions with the Rune Lens. To be able to truly finish a a Wraith, once and for all.

Faust lowered his weapon, breathing heavy, armor cracked and flickering.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: No. I just stopped letting the dead decide what I owe. They wanted to haunt me for the sins of the past. I'm over it. We made our choices, all we can do now is clean up the mess.

Lucen’s grin widened again, sharper this time.

Lucen: Oh, she’s going to love you.

The mist ahead parted, revealing a staircase that wound downward into a vast cathedral of bones and glass.
At the top, a faint sound began to rise—a voice singing, layered with hundreds of others, each one slightly out of sync, creating a harmony that felt wrong and divine all at once.

Faust looked down the stairs, tightening his grip on the scythe.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: The Night Queen.

Lucen: And she’s been waiting a long time to meet her favorite story.

The mist cleared slowly, curling away like the breath of something ancient. The sound of faint chimes floated through the air.

Faust stood in silence. His armor hissed, leaking light through a crack in the shoulder plate, the Rune Lens pulsing like a heartbeat.

Lucen walked ahead, humming. 

Faust followed, cautious. The ground here was glass-smooth, reflecting the glowing sea above them. Every footstep rippled light outward like ink in water.

Lucen: You handled yourself well. The Underworld fears you properly. That's make introductions easier. 

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Introductions to who?

Lucen: The Queen, obviously. Who else rules the dead down here?

Lucen smiled, but there was something in it Blake hadn’t noticed before—fatigue. Age. A flicker of regret.

They came to a bridge of bone that arced over a pit filled with green fire. In the center of it, suspended in chains of light, was a human silhouette—motionless, glowing faintly. Faust froze.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: ...Johnathan.

Lucen stopped mid-stride.

Lucen: Oh. You noticed him already. I was hoping for a little more drama.

Blake sprinted forward, the scythe dissolving from his hand as he reached for the chains. The closer he got, the more the air resisted him. It wasn’t heat or pressure—it was time, pushing back like a current.

Johnathan Angel hung in the air, eyes open but unfocused, his entire body encased in a cocoon of crystalline light. His lips moved faintly, forming words Blake couldn’t hear.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: He’s alive.

Lucen: He'll wish he wasn't.

Faust rounded on him.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: You brought him here, didn't you? You were the one who—

Lucen: Sent him? Yes. Guiding the lost is my specialty.

Blake’s voice hardened.

Blake Faust: You lied to me.

Lucen: I simply expedited the wishes of my Queen.

Lucen walked closer to the chained figure, eyes glittering with strange amusement.

Lucen: Johnathan Angel was the perfect offering. Half-in, half-out. She was intrigued by him popping in and out of the Realm. The Queen saw an opportunity—someone who would bring you here.

Faust stepped between him and the suspended body.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: My friend. The one who pulled me back from the brink. You used him.

Lucen: I followed orders.

For the first time, Lucen’s grin faded.

Lucen: Don’t make me the villain for being honest about what I am.

Faust’s armor flared brighter, the Rune Lens glowing in sync with his heartbeat.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Then what are you?

Lucen’s answer came like a sigh, quiet and older than the echo of their voices.

Lucen: Like you, I'm a reaper. I'm sorry, Blake. I did what had to be done. If you don't that one, you're REALLY not going to like this.

Faust hesitated.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Wait...who-

Lucen: Richard Faust.

The name landed like thunder.

The light around them dimmed, the entire Underworld shuddering.

Lucen spread his arms, his expression almost tender.

Lucen: Your father didn’t die cleanly, Blake. When he fought Legion, his body was destroyed, but his will was too stubborn to move on. The Death Realm claimed him, brought him here.

He gestured toward himself with both hands.

Lucen: I've looked into his mind. All the pain and suffering. Not from here, but the pain he feels for letting you down. I've felt it. I feel the need in his heart to protect you.

Lucen pointed toward the distant end of the bridge, where a colossal door stood carved from the bones of titans.
Shadows moved behind it, slow and massive.

Lucen: He belongs to her now. He uses him. He’s the Warden of the Gate. The Queen’s champion.

Faust staggered back a step, disbelief and horror mixing behind his visor.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: You’re lying.

Lucen: Am I? Why else would the Night Queen let you through the first layers alive? You’re the key to her favorite prisoner.

Lucen’s tone softened, almost pleading.

Lucen: He never stopped loving you, you know. Even now, the part of him that’s still human is fighting. But every second he’s chained here, he becomes more like me—less a man, more a function.

The Rune Lens pulsed once.

Faust turned toward the chained form of Johnathan again.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Then I’ll free them both.

Lucen’s laugh was short and bitter.

He pointed toward the distant door again, where faint green fire began to leak through the cracks.

Lucen: But if you’re set on it...I won’t stop you.

Faust looked at him sharply.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Why?

Lucen: Because it’s time you met your father’s ghost properly. Go on then, Blake Faust. Go wake the King beneath the Queen.

He leapt across the bridge, landing before the titanic bone door. Each step echoed with defiance.

Behind him, Lucen’s voice drifted faintly through the dying mist.

Lucen: Don’t hate him for what he became. Down here, even love can turn into a weapon.

He placed his hand against the door. The runes burned under his touch, and the door opened. In front of him, a figure emerged from the shadows...and it carred with it a familiar voice. 

Richard Faust: Blake...what have you done?

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Dad?! I knew it!

Faust’s voice dropped to a whisper, the words tight in his throat.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Dad, I'm so sorry. Dad, I-

Faust was taken aback at the form that approached him. Legion...the demonic horde made into one, approached from the shadows, yet it was smaller, almost humanoid, and it carried with it Richard Faust's voice. 

The chains rattled as the Legion-entity stirred, reacting to Blake’s tone. The sound was like bone grinding against bone.

Richard’s voice deepened, shifting to something inhuman.

Richard Faust: Don’t talk to me about salvation, boy. You inherited my sins.

He extended a hand, and a fragment of the Legion’s essence formed around it. Many hands reached out and grabbed his, forming a halberd like weapon.

Richard Faust: You call yourself a savior? Then prove it.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: I didn’t come here to fight you, Dad! 

Richard Faust: You don’t have a choice.

The halberd came down with the force of a collapsing pillar.

Faust dove to the side, the impact sending shards of obsidian spinning through the air. He rolled to his feet and spun his Scythe, deflecting a follow-up strike. Sparks and soul fire sprayed outward like fireworks.

The clash of their weapons rang like a bell through the chamber.

Richard swung again — wide, powerful, brutal. Each hit carried the weight of regret. Faust countered with precision, redirecting the force rather than blocking it, using the scythe’s haft to pivot his father’s strikes away. Every move echoed training sessions from his youth — but heavier, slower, poisoned by despair.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: You don’t have to do this!

Richard Faust: You think the dead get to choose? I made my mistakes. I'm paying for my sins!

Richard lunged forward, the halberd’s blade catching the edge of Blake’s armor, tearing across the plating. The energy burst from the wound like blood made of light. Blake retaliated, swinging upward in a crescent slash that caught Richard across the chest.

For a second, the Legion energy recoiled — revealing his father’s face underneath the mass. Sweat. Wrinkles. Eyes full of sadness.

Richard Faust: Blake. Help me. Kill me. 

Blake Faust: Dad! I- GAH!

Richard roared, the Legion half of him surging back, armor sealing again with a scream of the dead. 

Every strike tore holes — showing flashes of other places: Geist’s labs, the streets of Hanta City, the moment Richard had first donned the prototype Soul Driver. His possession. Each image flickered and vanished as their weapons collided.

Blake found himself panting, armor sparking. Richard advanced, each step shaking the bridge beneath them.

Richard Faust: You wear that Driver you built like you earned it. But it was built from my failures. My blood. You’re standing on the tainted ground I laid down, son.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Then maybe it’s time I put you to rest.

The Rune Lens on his belt pulsed violently. Blake reached down, slamming his palm against it.

Belt: REAPER OVER-DRIVE.

The green glow deepened to near-black as he leapt up into the air. 

Richard stepped back, almost in awe.

Richard Faust: This isn't Soul. This is new. You made this. You ARE your own man. 

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Dad. I love you.

The next exchange was blinding.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: FAUSTIAN JUSTICE!!!

Faust surged forward he drove his knee into Richard’s chest and thrust him back toward the throne.

Richard hit the steps hard, sparks cascading across the floor. The Legion shadow screamed, retreating momentarily into the cracks of the gate.

Richard looked up, the grotesque visage of Legion receeded, revealing Richard — tired, proud, and full of sorrow. For a moment, the room around them disappeared, as did Blake's armor. In that moment it was just father and son.

Richard Faust: You’re stronger than I ever was.

Blake Faust: I am the man I am because of you. Faults and all, but I'm trying my best to make you proud.

Richard smiled faintly — the first true smile in decades.

He reached out, placing a trembling hand on his son’s shoulder.

Richard Faust: I should’ve been there...when you crossed the veil the first time.

Blake Faust: You are now.

The Gate behind them began to quake. The runes brightened, and from the darkness, a voice rolled out like thunder dipped in silk.

Night Queen Eris: Enough sentiment. My Warden has served his time. His debt is paid — but yours, little Reaper, has only just begun.

Richard’s expression fell. He turned toward the voice.

Richard Faust: Don’t do this. He’s not—

The Queen’s laughter rippled through the chamber, cold and endless.

Eris: He’s exactly what I’ve been waiting for.

The ground cracked. Chains shot from the walls, wrapping around Richard and dragging him back toward the Gate. Blake lunged to grab him, but the Legion shadow reappeared, blocking his path.

Richard’s final words echoed as he was pulled into the light.

Richard Faust: Forgive me, son. She’s using you the same way she used me—

And then he was gone.

Faust fell to his knees as the Gate sealed shut once more, the sound like the closing of a coffin. His breathing echoed inside his helmet, raw and uneven.

Lucen’s voice echoed from behind, quiet but trembling.

Lucen: Now do you see, Blake? You’re not here to save anyone. You’re here because she wanted you to be. She wants you to become her new Warden.

Blake rose slowly, scythe still burning green in his hand.

Blake Faust: Then she’s going to regret it. I'm coming for you, Eris!

The Gate split open like a wound. Light poured through in ribbons of red and black, folding the chamber into itself. The air turned sharp, metallic, and sweet — the taste of blood mixed with perfume. All the greens were replaced with crimson.

From within the fissure, Night Queen Eris emerged.

She was both impossibly beautiful and horrifying: tall and statuesque, her skin carved from moonlight, her crown a living lattice of bone and glass. Her gown trailed behind her like a bleeding aurora, souls trapped inside its folds. When she spoke, her voice carried in chords — hundreds of whispers forming one thought.



Eris: So this is the child who would steal from death.

Faust stood his ground, the emerald glow of his armor dim against her radiance. The scythe trembled in his grip as if it, too, recognized her.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Let them go!

Eris smiled, every motion deliberate, predatory.

Eris: You think you can make demands? You’ve inherited your father’s arrogance, but none of his gratitude.

Blake’s voice was cold steel.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: I’m not my father.

Eris: Oh, I know. He served. You defy.

She raised her hand, and the floor beneath Faust exploded outward as hundreds of spectral chains erupted, writhing like serpents. He swung the scythe in a wide arc, cleaving through several, but more lashed around his limbs, binding him mid-air.

Eris: Long have I waited you have to hear. I wanted to see what the Death Realm was afraid of. The boogeyman that lives. You're nothing more than a spoiled rich kid! You have caused us so much strife. You owe us your suffering.

She clenched her fist. The chains tightened. Faust’s armor cracked, the Rune Lens flickering violently.

He roared, forcing the scythe against the pull, the lens flaring to life with a sound like thunder drawn backward.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: I don’t owe you anything!

The energy burst outward, shattering the bindings. He dropped to one knee, smoke pouring from his armor, his body shaking from exhaustion. Eris’s eyes narrowed — amused, but curious.

Eris: You truly think your mortal shell can hold against eternity?

Blake looked up, the cracked visor reflecting her.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: I don’t need eternity. I just need one moment.

The Rune Lens ignited. Light ripped through the seams of his armor — first gold, then white, then deep green so bright it eclipsed everything. Soul-fire bled from his back, condensing into vast spectral wings that unfurled with a shriek of wind.




Lucen, watching from the edge of the broken bridge, whispered in disbelief.

Lucen: He’s ascending. The armor’s...evolving — the Reaper form. How cool!

Eris staggered back a step, for the first time truly unsettled.

Eris: That power—! It’s not yours!

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: It is now.

He rose into the air, wings trailing fire, eyes blazing emerald. The two halves of his scythe formed into a single massive weapon, the blade glowing brighter with each beat of his wings.

Eris screamed, her voice shaking the foundations of the realm. Souls poured from her gown, forming tendrils of energy that lashed at him like whips of liquid night. Faust darted between them, carving each into smoke.

He swung downward; she met the blow with a conjured barrier of mirrored glass. The impact shattered the mirror and hurled them both skyward, through the roof of the cathedral into the open expanse of the Soul Sea above.

The world around them twisted — up became down, gravity turned inward. They fought in the air, two green and silver streaks slicing through an ocean of ghosts.

Eris’s crown flared, turning into a halo of flame. She thrust a spear of pure darkness through the mist — it pierced Faust’s wing, sending him spinning.

Eris: What can you possibly hope to bring to a fight against death itself!?

Blake’s breath rattled in his helmet. He gripped the scythe, energy spiraling around his leg like a cyclone.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: I’ll deliver justice. FAUSTIAN JUSTICE!

The wings burst fully open, releasing a storm of spectral feathers. Each feather became a streak of light as he dove—faster, hotter, unstoppable. He struck Eris mid-air with a kick that erupted into a pillar of emerald fire, the impact cracking the sky itself.

The explosion rolled outward, scattering the souls trapped in her gown like fireflies.

Eris screamed—an ear-splitting, reality-tearing sound. She fell backward, her form fracturing into shards of light and shadow. Faust landed beside her, his armor sparking.

He stepped forward, dragging the scythe behind him.

Eris: This can not be happening. 

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: It's happening, and you know the funny thing? You asked for it.

He lifted the weapon over his head, the green fire reflecting in the dead queen’s eyes.

One swing.
A flash of emerald.
The world went silent.

Her head fell, dissolving before it touched the ground.

For a heartbeat, there was only stillness. Then the realm screamed.

The sea above began to collapse, folding in on itself. The towers of bone and glass imploded like shattered lungs. Faust stumbled, shielding his face from the blinding light as everything began to come apart.

He turned—Johnathan Angel and Richard Faust lay unconscious near the ruined throne, the chains that once bound them now melted into dust.

He sprinted to them, dragging their bodies up as cracks split the floor.

Lucen stumbled toward them.

Lucen: You did it...you actually did it.

Blake looked back at him.

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Don’t just stand there—move!

He hooked one arm under Johnathan, the other gripping Richard’s shoulder. The wings spread wide, light pouring from every feather.

Lucen tried to follow, but the floor gave way beneath him. He started to fall, reaching out.

Lucen: Blake!

Without hesitation, Blake dove, catching him by the wrist. The recoil almost tore his arm free, but he held tight.

Lucen: Why? Why would you save me?

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: That's what Kamen Riders do! I’m not leaving anyone behind!

The sky collapsed completely.

Faust’s wings flared one final time, wrapping around the three men as the realm imploded.

Kamen Rider Ash stood at the door, still waiting for his friend to return. Suddenly, he felt a rumble, a shudder in the Death Realm. The gates of the underworld poured open, and the tortured souls and Wraith made their escape. Finally, Faust Reaper made his exit, holding the unconcious Johnathan, Richard, and Lucen. 

Kamen Rider Ash: You're back! You actually did it? 

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Did you bet against me or something? 

Kamen Rider Ash: ...Not THAT much. 

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Ha! Sorry to disappoint! 

Kamen Rider Ash: No, I'm happy to see you. I see you're not alone. 

Lucen: Uh...

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: I couldn't leave the little imp, even if he caused the problem. He gave him an opportunity, to save my Dad. 

Lucen: Yeah. I meant to the do that! It was the plan the whole time! 

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Uh-huh.

Richard suddenly opened his eyes and stood up. 

Richard Faust: Blake!? You did it! You saved me. 

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: I did my best, because that's how you raised me. 

Richard Faust: I'm so proud of you. I wish...I wish we had more time, son. I wish I could make it all right. I can feel it already. I'm fading away. Going...someplace better I hope. 

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: You're a good man, the best. You're not the monster they made you into. I'm proud that you're my Dad. I love you. 

Richard Faust: I love you, son. Please tell Maggie and Victor how much I love them too. I'll see you again...but please...take your time. I won't be in any hurry. 

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: ...No promises. You know me. Hehe. Goodbye...Dad.

Richard Faust's soul disappeared in a warm and comforting flash of light that constrasted the twisted form of the Death Realm. 

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: ...Mission accomplished. 

Kamen Rider Ash: Don't let me disparage your efforts ever again. Underestimating you is a deadly prospect. 

Kamen Rider Faust Reaper: Haha! Now, I just have to return this sleeping detective and coffee mogul to his body. 

Lucen: Um...what about me?

Kamen Rider Ash: I've never met a spirit that can phase between realities. Hmmm.

Lucen: Huh?

Back at Cafe Noir, Lizbeth was typing of Geistbook warning the citizens to stay away from mischevious boys in oversized coats, when Johnathan suddenly sprang up off the couch, scaring her in the process.

Johnathan Angel: Whoa! 

Lizbeth Angel: Johnathan! You're alright! 

Johnathan Angel: Alright? Yeah! I was just sleeping! I had the wildest dream though. How long have I been asleep? 

Lizbeth Angel: Heh...quite a while...sleepyhead.

Lizbeth looked behind her. In the realm of the living, it was just empty space, but she knew he was standing there. 

Lizbeth Angel: Thank you, Blake. Best ghost tenant I ever had. 

Back at the Magnus Foundation, the many acolytes and students gathered in the main hall as Asher began to speak. 

Asher: I want to introduce you all to my new assistant. A peculiar individual, who is going to help us understand our enemy much much better. His name is Lucen. 

Lucen: Uh...hey! Guess I got a new job! Let's all get along. Alright? Haha!

Back at Geist HQ, another meeting was taking place, as Victor was about to unveil the project, Blake suddenly entered the room. 

Blake Faust: Sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything? 

Victor Faust: Blake? Uh...no...we were just getting started.

Blake happily sat down next to his mother. 

Blake Faust: Hello mother! 

Maggie Faust: You seem quite happy, Mr. CEO. 

Blake Faust: Why wouldn't I be? Spoke to Dad. He wanted me to pass along a message. 

Maggie Faust: You did what? 

Victor Faust: Huh?! 

Blake Faust: Hehehe.




After a long couple of days, Blake finally made his way to bed. He rolled onto the bed and smiled as he shut his eyes. It wasn't long before he heard a sound and opened his eyes to find his wife, Ashley Faust, standing over him, holding a gun. 

Ashley Faust: You have some explaining to do.

Blake Faust: Haha! Uh...hehe..I guess I do, don't I? I might've been up to something. 

Ashley Faust: I'll say, and now you're going to get what you deserve.

She fired the water gun directly into his face. 

Blake Faust: Whoa! 

Ashley Faust: Hehe.

Blake Faust: Well I'm awake now! 

Ashley Faust: Seriously, you knew I'd be concerned the moment ASHER of all people texted. 

Blake Faust: He texted!? The man is adapting!

Lizbeth Angel: Um....excuse me?

Blake and Ashley: Hmm?

Lizbeth was seen poking her head up into the room, which was revealed to be the attic above Cafe Noir. 

Lizbeth Angel: Just curious why you still choose to crash here sometimes, when you're worth...well...what you're worth. 

Blake Faust: Hehe...just...feels like home.

Last edited by Machismo (10/16/2025 1:02 am)