Episode 21: I Chose You

The rooftop was quiet. It was not the peaceful kind of quiet. 

The skyline spread out behind the railing in a glittering carpet of lights. Somewhere far below, traffic moved in slow, steady lines. The wind passed through without urgency.

Cole Beckett stood near the edge, both hands resting on the railing, knuckles paler than he wanted them to be. He stared out over the city like the view might help him give an answer. 

He already knew what she wanted before she spoke. He always did, because there was no version of this night where she did not come to him after what she had seen.

Aria Westbrook: ...You were going to tell me, right?

Her voice did not crack, but her hands were shaking. 

Cole Beckett did not turn right away. He let the silence stretch, not because he thought it would help, but because he needed one more breath.

Cole Beckett: Yeah...eventually.

Aria came closer. Even in the dim rooftop light, he could see she had been running calculations in her own head since the second she stepped through the door. That was her defense mechanism, if she could quantify something, she could stand in it without falling over.

Her arms folded, more to brace herself than to shut him out.

Aria Westbrook: Then tell me now.

Cole Beckett exhaled slowly and finally turned to face her.

He did not reach for humor. He did not offer a grin as a shield. He did not soften the edges with a joke, because he knew exactly what this moment was. If he dodged now, he lost her. 

Cole Beckett: When the Thirteen Hands made their move...when everything started to break...I found the Chrono Engine.

Aria’s expression tightened. 

Aria Westbrook: You found it?

Cole Beckett: I stole it from them. They had used it in the experiment. They were about to succeed.

He swallowed, and it was obvious the memory still sat in his throat like smoke.

Cole Beckett: You were there. You were right there in the middle of it, and I...was too late to save you.

The wind nudged Aria’s hair across her cheek. She did not lift a hand to fix it. She barely blinked.

Cole Beckett: So I didn’t think. I just used it.

Aria Westbrook: ...And you turned back time.

Cole Beckett nodded once.

Cole Beckett: Just enough. Just a few minutes. Not to fix everything. Not to stop it all. Just...enough for you.

Her breath caught, and for the first time her composure wavered.

Cole Beckett: I pulled you out of it before it happened.

A long silence fell between them. Somewhere, a siren started. 

Aria Westbrook: ...You changed time.

Cole Beckett: Yeah.

Aria’s gaze dropped, overwhelmed with feelings. 

Aria Westbrook: For me.

Cole Beckett: For you.

No justification. No speech about destiny. No heroic monologue. Just the truth, laid out like a metal instrument on a sterile table.

Aria took a cautious step forward.

Aria Westbrook: And since then? The lab...the equipment...all of this.

Cole Beckett: I may have...nudged a few things as Omega Gauge...to give you the things you were deprived of.

Aria let out a breath that almost turned into laughter, the sound catching between disbelief and something dangerously close to relief.

Aria Westbrook: You rewrote parts of reality so I could keep working.

Cole Beckett: When you say it like that, it sounds way worse.

Aria Westbrook: Cole. It's crazy.

Cole Beckett: That’s fair.

Aria stared at him. He watched her fight the impulse to catalogue the impossible into neat variables. This was not a theorem. This was a person.

Aria Westbrook: That’s...the most insane, impossible, completely irresponsible thing I’ve ever heard.

Cole Beckett’s shoulders tensed reflexively, like he was bracing for a slap, physical or emotional.

Aria’s voice softened, and the softness carried weight.

Aria Westbrook: ...And it’s the kindest thing anyone could ever do for me.

She stepped forward and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Cole Beckett froze for half a second, not because he did not want it, but because he had not allowed himself to imagine he would get it. Then his arms wrapped around her as if he had been holding his breath for weeks and could finally exhale.

The city behind them blurred. Wind, concrete, neon, and the aging clockwork. None of it mattered compared to the fact that Aria’s hands were gripping him.

Cole Beckett: Aria—

Aria Westbrook: Don’t. I can't imagine how hard this has been for you. You've done so much. You fought my Grandfather's closest friends who betrayed him. You're fighting all these monsters that continue to show up, to protect Arcadia City...to protect me.

Her voice muffled against him.

Aria Westbrook: Don’t explain it. Don’t make it smaller. Don’t turn it into one of your “I’m fine” moments.

Cole Beckett: I wasn’t going to say I’m fine.

Aria Westbrook: You were absolutely going to say you’re fine.

Cole Beckett: Okay, I was maybe going to say I’m “mostly” fine.

Aria’s breath hitched, half laugh, half sob. She pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes bright and furious at the universe.

Aria Westbrook: Cole, you have kept so much to yourself, but please tell me, if you changed time-

The humor thinned, the weight returning like gravity.

Aria Westbrook: Is that why everything’s falling apart?

Cole’s jaw tightened. He did not look away, but his eyes flicked toward the skyline.

Cole Beckett: The future is making things fall apart. 

Aria Westbrook: That’s not an answer.

Cole Beckett: It’s the honest part of one. What I'm doing is complicated. So complex, it's hard to keep it all in place myself. There are two timelines right now. Ours...and another one. A bad one.

Aria Westbrook: Define “bad.”

Cole Beckett: Bad.

Aria’s brow furrowed, brain already trying to map the implications.

Cole Beckett: A man named Maestro wants that one to win. He wants to take the power of Omega Gauge and use it to direct us towards his dark future. That's who keeps sending "Chronovores" to cause chaos. He wants Arcadia City in ruins, and he wants the power of Omega Gauge...with or without my compliance. That's his plan.

Aria Westbrook: And you? What's your plan?

Cole Beckett: I’m not letting that happen. That's my plan.

No hesitation. No doubt.

Aria held his gaze for a long moment, then shook her head with something that looked suspiciously like affection and terror together.

Aria Westbrook: You’re insane.

Cole Beckett: I’ve been told that.

Aria took one more step forward.

And then she kissed him.

It was relief and fear and gratitude and that deeper thing she refused to name because naming it made it vulnerable to being taken away. She pulled him closer, and for one brief, impossible moment, the chaos of the city felt far below them.

Cole’s hands rested at her waist like he was afraid he might break the moment with too much pressure. When he kissed back, it was like he had finally stopped fighting the fact that he needed her to choose him too.

When they parted, Aria rested her forehead lightly against his.

Aria Westbrook: ...Okay.

Cole Beckett let out a breath he did not realize he had been holding.

Cole Beckett: Okay?

Aria Westbrook: Okay.

Aria smiled at him, but then her face shifted again, reality catching up, the way it always did.

Aria Westbrook: Cole...

Cole Beckett: Yeah?

Aria Westbrook: Jude. Jude Kallen. The street busker. He's Tempo, isn't he? If he’s from that other timeline...the one you’re trying to stop.

She looked at him, and Cole saw it, the scientist in her had run the scenario to its end, and the human in her hated the result.

Aria Westbrook: What happens to him if you succeed?

Cole Beckett did not answer right away.

Because he did not have one.

The wind moved between them, and somewhere in the city the earlier siren finally died down.

Cole Beckett: I don’t know...or I do and I'm afraid of the answer.

Aria’s eyes closed briefly. 

Aria Westbrook: I hate that.

Cole Beckett: Me too.

Aria Westbrook: Promise me you’ll tell me when you figure it out. Promise me, you'll let me help you...however I can. 

Cole Beckett: I will.

Aria Westbrook: Cole.

Cole Beckett: I swear.

Aria Westbrook: We're in this together. Cole, I always wanted this between us...before...and even more now. You're a hero. You're my hero.

They embraced again, as Cole sunk into the embrace, an embrace that wouldn't have existed had he not intervened. An embrace he would do anything to protect. 

The local amusement park Arcadia Land glittered beneath the night like an island of color. Neon poured across pavement. Music bounced between rides and food stalls. Laughter rose in bursts and fell again, carried away by the warm air that smelled like sugar and engine grease.

Jude Kallen leaned against a railing near a quiet corner where the noise softened just enough to feel intimate. He held his guitar close as he plucked away at its strings. People passing by tossed money into his case, the only thing that was keeping him alive in this time period. Compared to where he had come from, it was a fortune. 

Ellie Tran stood a step away, arms crossed as she watch him play. 

Jude Kallen: You ever notice the city sounds different at night?

Ellie Tran lifted an eyebrow at him. 

Ellie Tran: That your opening line?

Jude grinned, unbothered.

Jude Kallen: Is it working? 

Ellie Tran: Define “working.”

Jude Kallen: You rolled your eyes, but you did smile. 

Ellie Tran: You're intriguing...I'll give you that. I still don't know everything about you, but I know a story is definitely following you. So I'm looking into a story...while enjoying you playing the guitar.

Jude Kallen: Multitasking. Respect.

He strummed a soft chord that wasgentle, exploratory, letting it hang in the air. 

Ellie Tran: You're doing the “I’m trying to distract you from the fact that I’m weirdly charming” thing.

Jude Kallen: I’m not distracting you from that. I’m leaning into it.

Ellie’s mouth twitched. She fought it. She lost.

Ellie Tran: You’re lucky you saved my life.

Jude Kallen: I plan on continuing to capitalize on that.

Ellie Tran: Of course you do.

Jude shifted the guitar slightly and began to play. The melody started simple, almost casual, and then built into something warmer and something personal. He did not play like he was performing for a crowd.

He played like he was talking to one person.

Ellie tried to keep her guard up. She tried to keep the sarcasm loaded.

But the way the melody curled around the noise of the amusement park made it harder than she wanted it to be.

Ellie Tran: Yeah, that’s actually not terrible.

Jude’s grin softened.

Jude Kallen: High praise.

Ellie Tran: Don’t get used to it.

Jude Kallen: Oh I'm not. I'm valuing it now while I have it. I don't know how much time I have. Time is very fleeting, Ellie. You have to grab hold of every moment, because it won't come again.

Jude and Ellie walked deeper into Arcadia Land, side by side, letting the park’s glow do some of the talking for them. They passed a spinning ride where the lights traced perfect circles against the night, and a game booth where stuffed prizes stared down like judgmental spectators.

Ellie Tran: You picked a pretty good spot.

Jude Kallen: I have my moments.

Ellie Tran: Don’t let that go to your head.

Jude Kallen: I can’t promise that. My head is structurally weak to compliments.

Ellie Tran: I didn’t compliment you.

Jude Kallen: You absolutely did. It was just disguised as a neutral statement.

Ellie huffed a laugh despite herself, then caught it like she might have dropped something valuable.

Ellie Tran: So what, you just always carry a guitar around?

Jude Kallen: Not always.

Ellie Tran: Uh-huh.

Jude Kallen: Sometimes I also carry emotional baggage. It doesn’t fit in the case, though.

Ellie Tran: Shocking.

Jude Kallen: This guitar...is the only thing I brought with me that was personal. 

Ellie Tran: From where?

Jude Kallen: Home.

Ellie Tran: And where IS home? 

Jude Kallen: ...A long ways away. 

Ellie Tran: Right.

They rounded a corner.

And stopped.

Tick and Tock stood in front of a massive decorative clock centerpiece, exactly the kind of attraction the park built for photos and nostalgia. The clock tower rose above them in polished metal and ornate trim, its face wide and luminous, its hands sweeping with stately confidence.

Tick and Tock did not look like they belonged in a place built for joy. They stood completely still, heads tilted just slightly, eyes fixed on the clock.



Ellie blinked.

Ellie Tran: Those two again. I keep seeing them around. Are they okay?

Jude Kallen: Yeah, I've noticed that they just sort of do that.

Tick’s gaze did not move.

Tick: It’s off.

Tock tilted her head further, as if listening for something beneath the tick-tick-tick.

Tock: I concur. Very slightly, but very definitely. 

Tick: Yes. 

Tock: Yes.

Tick: And I can feel it in the air.

Tock: Yes.

Jude’s grin faded at the edges.

Jude Kallen: Well that's ominous. That sounds like something you say right before—

The park lights suddenly flickered.

The music from a nearby speaker warped, dragged like a tape caught in a broken player. La

Ellie’s posture snapped from casual to alert.

Ellie Tran: I knew it. Follow you...find a story.

Jude’s hand tightened around the guitar neck.

And then the Maestro’s voice cut cleanly through the distortion. It was smooth, amused, and far too close.

Maestro: I have a story for you, Ms. Tran. It's called, "I know your future, and it's not pretty."

The sound came from everywhere at once, like the park’s speakers had become his mouth.

The air thickened.

A rip opened near the base of the clock centerpiece—not a tear in space like a clean portal, but a jagged, sickening wrongness in the frame of reality. The edges shimmered like heat haze, except cold, except sharp.

Something stepped out.

A Chronovore emerged into the park, its form twisting as it moved with bone-gray armor plates layered like a skeletal exoskeleton, red, sinewy ridges glowing beneath as if the creature had a heart made of raw clockwork. Horn-like protrusions curved from its head, and its forearms ended in wicked, clawed shapes that looked designed to tear through more than flesh in seconds.

Its footsteps hit the pavement with a heavy, suit-actor-friendly stomp, each impact punctuated by a brief, discordant tick in the sound mix, like the universe insisting on counting the wrong beat.

People screamed and ran. Strollers turned sharply. A cotton candy vendor bolted, leaving pink fluff drifting into the air like confetti at a funeral.

Ellie stepped in front of Jude without thinking.

Ellie Tran: Tell me you have a plan.

Jude Kallen: I have...the concept of a plan.

Ellie Tran: That’s not—

Jude Kallen: It’s evolving. You don't have to stand in front of me though.

Ellie Tran: Huh? Oh. I hadn't even noticed. Reflex?

Jude Kallen: Heh.

The Chronovore raised one clawed arm and slashed.

The air itself shuddered. A row of lights along a nearby ride blinked out, before each light exploded.

Jude’s eyes tracked the civilians first. That was the thing about him, even when he joked, he watched the exits.

Jude Kallen: Stay back.

Ellie Tran: Not a chance.

Jude Kallen: Ellie—

Ellie Tran: I didn’t survive everything I survived just to stand behind a railing while you get turned into a cautionary tale...that would probably win me an award...but not one that I want right now!

Jude gave her a look, the kind that said I hate that you’re brave because it makes my job harder.

Ellie did not move.

Jude exhaled, resigned.

Jude Kallen: Fine. Stay close.

The Chronovore lunged, its movement heavy but sudden. It swept its claw low in an arc that was close to catching fleeing civilians.

Jude shoved Ellie behind him and threw himself forward, rolling across the pavement. The guitar case clacked against the ground as he slid, then popped up in a rough stance with knees bent, shoulders squared, breath visible in the tension.

Ellie Tran: That was actually kind of cool.

Jude Kallen: Please save your reviews for after I’m not dead.

He reached for his driver, but hesitated. 

For just a second, everything narrowed to that small motion, hand hovering, the weight of choice pressing down like gravity. He had something else in his hand. Something glowing red. Jude thought back to a moment with Cole Beckett. 

Cole Beckett stood in a dim space, face lit by the glow of something red. He held out the Red Core like it was heavier than it looked.

Cole Beckett: Jude, I know I can use my cores again, but I still shouldn't have all three near the Chrono Engine. If things get bad...use this.

Back in the present, Jude’s fingers trembled around the Core.

The Chronovore advanced, each step punctuated by a wrong tick, and the clock tower behind it loomed like an accusation.

Ellie’s voice came softer, not teasing now, but steady.

Ellie Tran: Jude.

He looked at her.

Jude Kallen: We're riding the pressure of time straight into uncharted territory. Let’s see what happens!

He locked the Red Core in.

Jude Kallen: FEEL THE TEMPO! FEEL THE BLAZING TEMPO! HENSHIN!




Flames erupted.

They surged outward in a burst of red-orange energy mixed with the blue musical sound pulses. A whirlwind of fire and sound. 

Crimson lines threaded across his limbs like molten strings, and Blazing Tempo stood where Jude had been.

The suit looked heavier than his normal silhouette, but more aggressive, more direct. Red energy pulsed along the armor seams. Flame motifs crawled across his chest like living embers. In his hands, the blazing guitar weapon manifested with a flare. Metal and flame married into an instrument that looked like it could play a song or cut through a monster with the same motion.




Ellie’s breath caught.

Ellie Tran: ...Okay. That was—yeah. That was a lot. I love it!

Blazing Tempo shifted his stance, feet planting wide for stability, grounded, ready. He lifted the guitar, and when his gloved fingers brushed the strings, the sound was not just music. It was ignition.

A chord rang out low, hot, and sharp, sending a ripple of heat rolled across the pavement in front of him, a visible wave that made the air dance.

The Chronovore recoiled half a step, claws flexing.

Blazing Tempo moved.

Maestro: The hands that mold our future bequeathed you an instrument of apocalypse? 

Kamen Rider Blazing Tempo: I'm pretty handy with instruments. See for yourself!

He closed the distance with a sprint, his weapon held close to reduce strain. He swung the guitar in a wide, powerful arc. The guitar’s edge trailed flame like a ribbon.

The Chronovore raised its arm to block. Sparks sprayed where flame met bone-gray armor. The impact sounded like metal on stone.

Blazing Tempo did not overcommit. He pulled back, pivoted, and struck again with two quick, rhythmic slashes like downstrokes in a song. Each hit produced a burst of embers and a brief, warped echo of the guitar chord.

Ellie backed away from the immediate arc of combat, but she did not run. Her eyes tracked the edges, the civilians, exits, the clock.

Ellie Tran: Jude Kallen, you are full of surprises.

Blazing Tempo’s helmet turned slightly toward her—just enough to suggest he heard her—then snapped back to the Chronovore.

The Chronovore lunged with a clawed swipe, but Blazing Tempo ducked, the movement tight and efficient, then kicked upward with an armored boot connecting with the monster’s midsection.

The Chronovore staggered, scraping its claws on the pavement.

Blazing Tempo seized the moment.

He strummed the guitar once, very hard.

The chord exploded into a short-range burst of flame that slammed into the Chronovore’s chest, forcing it back three steps. Lights along the nearby rides flickered.

And then the clock behind them ticked.

Tick and Tock still stood frozen, eyes still locked on the clock face.

Tick: It’s different. 

Tock: It's changing.

The Chronovore staggered backward under the pressure of the flames. Its claws scraped against the pavement, leaving jagged lines that sparked.

Blazing Tempo did not give it time to recover.

He stepped forward, planting his foot with force, shoulders squared, guitar raised low at his side as the flames along its edge intensified, shifting from wild bursts into something tighter, sharper, more controlled.

Blazing Tempo rolled his shoulder once, the armor plates clicking into place as the flames concentrated along his leg and weapon, coiling like they were waiting for a cue only he could hear.

The Chronovore lunged again, its body skipping forward unnaturally, claws raised high to tear through him, and that was when Blazing Tempo moved. He stepped into the attack. The timing was perfect.

He ducked under the swipe, pivoted on his lead foot, and spun with a full, committed rotation. His leg ignited. Not just flame, but a focused, blazing arc that traced the motion like a comet. 

Kamen Rider Blazing Tempo: Blazing Round!

His heel slammed into the back of the Chronovore’s head with a thunderous crack, the impact bursting outward in a ring of fire that distorted the air and sent sparks cascading across the pavement.

The monster landed on the pavement hard, and Blazing Tempo followed through, ramming the guitar into the monster and sending it back down to the ground. 



He planted his foot. Pulled the blazing guitar up over his shoulder, and brought it down like an axe. 

Kamen Rider Blazing Tempo: Blazing Divide!

The guitar carved downward in a clean, brutal line, flames compressing into a razor edge as it cut straight through the Chronovore’s body from shoulder to core.

There was a flash, and a delayed sound, before impact!

The Chronovore split along the strike line, glowing from within as cracks of red energy burst through its frame.

Blazing Tempo turned his body away from the blast as the Chronovore detonated.

Debris scattering outward in a controlled arc as the shockwave rippled across the amusement park, rattling nearby rides and flickering every light in Arcadia Land at once.

The explosion faded, and smoke curled upward.

Blazing Tempo stood still for a moment, the flames around him slowly settling, the energy dissipating in faint embers that drifted off into the night.

Maestro: ...A bold performance.

Blazing Tempo didn’t turn.

Kamen Rider Blazing Tempo: Yeah? I thought it might top the charts.

Maestro’s tone carried amusement.

Maestro: You are playing a dangerous game, Jude Kallen.

Blazing Tempo’s grip tightened slightly on the guitar.

Maestro: A game where victory does not mean survival...but erasure. Do you understand what I'm saying to you? Do you perceive what it is you are doing? You unmake our time...do you know what happens?

The lights flickered again.

Maestro: Continue down this path...and you will find that neither timeline has a place for you. You will cease to exist. WE will cease to exist.

Silence hung in the aftermath of that statement.

Blazing Tempo finally turned his head slightly, just enough to acknowledge the voice without giving it full attention.

Kamen Rider Blazing Tempo: ...Yeah. I came back prepared for that.

Ellie’s eyes widened.

Ellie Tran: ...What?

Maestro’s voice softened, almost approving.

Maestro: Then you understand the stakes. I've been trying to keep my involvement in the changes to a minimum. But it appears I'm going to have to tune up the band, and begin the true orchestra soon enough. I will rip that core from you, as I will get the rest from Beckett. I will ensure my survival, because I came back prepared for THAT!

The lights steadied, the distortion faded, and just like that, he was gone.

The park noise slowly returned.

Blazing Tempo stood there for a second longer.

Then the flames began to recede. The armor flickered and disengaged. Jude Kallen stumbled slightly as the transformation dropped, catching himself with one hand on his guitar. Ellie was already moving toward him.

Ellie Tran: Jude, what did he mean?

Jude didn’t answer immediately.

He looked at the ground, then at the clock, then finally at her.

Jude Kallen: He's just making big threats. Don't worry about it. You're going to be alright. 

Ellie Tran: ...But what about you?

Behind them, Tick and Tock had not moved. They somehow avoided all the damage and action of the previous fight. 

They were still staring at the clock.



Tick tilted her head slightly.

Tick: It’s ever so slightly off.

Tock nodded.

Tock: Oh my cog, it's difficult to deal with.

Ellie turned toward them, exasperated.

Ellie Tran: Can we maybe get someone to fix it?!

Tick finally looked at her.

Tick and Tock: WE CAN DO IT!

The two of them ran up the clock tower, eager to fix the giant clock. Jude just laughed, while Ellie looked on, uncertain of the future.

To Be Continued...

Last edited by Machismo (4/15/2026 4:00 am)

Episode 23: The Here and Now

Night had deepened into a hard indigo over the city by the time Ty Mercado reached the last block.

The storefronts were closing one by one. Lamps glowed in the windows above the square, and the cobblestones still held a little warmth from the day, but Ty could feel none of it. He could feel only the pounding in his ribs, the wet drag of blood down his side beneath his shirt, and the raw scrape in his lungs every time he forced himself to keep moving. His green TY’S apron was blackened with soot and ash. One strap had torn loose and slapped against his leg when he ran. His cap sat crooked on his head, brim bent, dark hair plastered damply to his forehead.

He did not remember dropping his phone. He only heard it strike the pavement behind him, a brittle little clatter that vanished beneath the pounding of his steps.

Back in Time stood at the corner with its hanging sign swaying gently on old chains, as if the building had not felt the horror unspooling through the rest of the city. Clocks glimmered in the front window. Pendulums swung. Brass hands crawled over enamel faces. For one absurd second Ty was angry at all of them for continuing to move.

Then the door filled his vision and he hit it shoulder first.

The bell over the frame rang once, sharp and bright, and Ty stumbled inside.

Cole looked up from the rear workbench at the same instant Aria rose from a stool near the counter. The warm light of the shop threw long reflections across glass cases and polished wood, but Ty never saw the whole room. He saw Cole’s face change. He saw Aria’s hands come up. He saw the floor tilt.

Cole caught him before he went all the way down.

Cole Beckett: Ty!

Ty grabbed a fistful of Cole’s sleeve and forced the words out through teeth that would not stop chattering.

Ty Mercado: He's...here.

Cole lowered him onto the narrow bench beneath the wall of clocks. 

Cole Beckett: Slow down. Breathe first.

Ty Mercado: No hermano, there isn’t time. Maestro is here. He's not alone. So many of them.

Aria crossed the room at once and dropped to one knee beside the bench. She peeled the apron aside, saw the blood at his side, and her expression tightened, but she did not waste a second on panic.

Cole Beckett: What did you see, Ty?

Ty dragged in air. The smell of machine oil, old wood, and hot tea from somewhere deeper in the shop grounded him just enough to speak in full. 

Ty Mercado: Four of them. One came through the service doors behind my stand. Reptilian. Long neck, metal grown into its shoulder. It moved like it wanted to tear the whole building open just to get at me. Clockwork Runner saved me.

He swallowed. His voice broke on the next words and he hated that it did.

Ty Mercado: It saved me, Cole.

Cole did not interrupt.

Ty Mercado: There were more. A boar thing with a horn like a spear. Something amphibian with pipes in its spine, steam hissing out of a valve. And another one, insect-like, long legs, exposed wiring, dragging metal toward it. Maestro had all of them. He was moving them into the city. He's not playing around anymore. He's going scorched earth!

Aria pressed folded cloth against Ty’s side. Pain flashed white through him. He sucked in a breath and gripped the edge of the bench.

Ty Mercado: I tried to call. I do not know why it never connected.

Cole Beckett: I didn't get a call. You called Jude too?

Ty Mercado: I called everybody, hermano.

Cole drew a slow breath and looked toward the front window, toward the darkness outside beyond the reflections of clock faces. The pause lasted only a second, but it was enough for Aria to read the truth in it.

Aria Westbrook: They were blocked. It stands to reason that a man using soundwaves to weave through time, could also interfere with the signal of cell phones.

Cole Beckett: Really? It stands to reason?

Aria Westbrook: I can't think of a better explanation.

Cole did not deny it.

Aria bound Ty’s side with fresh bandages from the shop’s cabinet. 

Aria Westbrook: He was already closing the net before he moved in. He was there for Ty...to take him off the board? To take Clockwork Runner off...the-

Ty reached for Cole again. 

Ty Mercado: Clockwork Runner is gone.

That landed like a weight in Cole's chest. 

Cole Beckett: You saw?

Ty Mercado: It got me out. It fought them. I heard it again later, but only once, and after that.

Cole Beckett: I didn't send it out. How did it- It came to save you? It was...it was...

For a moment the entire shop seemed to narrow around the sound of ticking.

Aria tied the bandage off and sat back on her heels. Her eyes lifted to Cole. The clocks on the walls behind him marked a dozen different times, but in that moment all of them felt like the same one.

Aria Westbrook: This is it, isn't it? This is the final battle.

There was no fear in the line. There was sorrow, and certainty, and love enough to make the certainty painful.

Cole did not answer immediately. He was looking at Ty, but not only at Ty. He was seeing the city outside. The wreckage. The path that had brought every one of them here.

Aria rose to her feet.

Aria Westbrook: Cole Beckett...hero of time...my hero...Kamen Rider Gauge. Go do what you have to do to protect everyone.

She took a breath, and when she spoke again the strength in her voice softened enough to reveal the plea beneath it.

Aria Westbrook: But if there is any way at all to end this without erasing Jude, I need you to try.

Cole turned to face her fully. It was the face of a man who understood exactly how impossible that request might be.

Cole Beckett: I will try. Aria, I promise you I will try. He came back because of the Thirteen Hands. He came back for me, because he thought I was the threat that would make his time a nightmare. I owe it to him to try. I'm....I'm going to try.

Aria gave the smallest nod. Cole took out his phone and called Jude. The line connected almost at once.

Jude Kallen: Cole? When I gave you the number to this old phone I wasn't expecting you'd actually call. These things are so different from the-

Cole Beckett: Jude listen. Ty is here. He's all messed up. He tried to warn us earlier, but the calls were blocked. Maestro is moving now. He has four Chronovores with him, and Clockwork Runner is...it's down.

The silence on Jude’s end was short and heavy.

Jude Kallen: ...Then it's time...where?

Cole Beckett: The square.

Jude Kallen: I am on my way.

Cole ended the call, looked once more at Ty, and rested a hand on his shoulder.

Cole Beckett: You did great, buddy. Thank you.

Ty almost laughed at that, but he was too tired and too hollowed out by what he had seen. 

Ty Mercado: Make it count, hermano. Hit 'em once for me. Make it count.

Cole gave him one sharp nod.

Aria moved in before he could say anything else. 

Aria Westbrook: He will. You are staying put.

Ty opened his mouth to argue, but another wave of pain folded him inward. Aria caught him by the jaw and forced him to meet her eyes.

Aria Westbrook: You got here. That matters. Let me do the rest of my job.

The bell above the door rang again as Cole stepped into the night.

By the time the door swung shut behind him, he was already reaching for the driver at his waist.

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

Across the city, Jude vaulted a low wall and landed in a spray of gravel behind an abandoned bus stop. Wind whipped the loose edge of his jacket behind him. The street beyond the stop was empty, as if the rest of the city had instinctively withdrawn from what was coming.

Cole’s voice still seemed to hang in his ear.

Clockwork Runner is down.

Jude closed his eyes for one second, then opened them and moved.

Jude Kallen: Feel...the Tempo. HENSHIN!

Blue light ran over him in a musical pulse, then hardened into armor. The suit sealed around his body with the clean, precision. He launched forward and became a streak of motion between rows of darkened windows.

At nearly the same moment, Cole began his transformation. Gold and black locked around him in overlapping plates. The suit built itself piece by piece, until he stood in the street as a solid weight of armor and intent. The city’s amber lights flashed across his visor as he broke into a run.

He saw the wreckage before he saw Maestro.

It lay broken at the edge of the square beside the remains of a market stall, half in shadow and half in the spill of a lamppost. A torn section of black-and-gold plating had been driven deep into the cobblestones. Part of one wheel housing had split completely open. A red optical lens, cracked through the middle, reflected the lamp like a bloodshot eye. The body was so badly ruined it no longer looked like a machine built to move. It looked like something that had spent everything it had resisting annihilation and lost the argument one part at a time.

Gauge stopped so hard his boots scored the stone.

He crossed the last few steps more slowly.

There was a sound beneath the ticking in his own armor. 

Pocket Watch: Careful, Cole. If you run headlong into this, you'll end up falling to a similar fate.

Something in Gauge’s posture eased and tightened at the same time. He looked over the broken body of Clockwork Runner. He put one armored hand on what remained of the chassis, and when he spoke, his voice had dropped into a register that belonged to grief more than battle.

Kamen Rider Gauge: You stayed. You saved my friend. Thank you.

The pocket watch’s ticking softened.

Pocket Watch: Don't die yourself. That's how you thank it. When I built it, it was made to learn and adapt. I didn't know...it would grow that much.

A blur of blue crossed the far side of the street and resolved into Tempo as he came to a stop beside the wreckage. He took in the machine, the broken plating, the angle of Gauge’s body, and the shape of his own expression changed.

Kamen Rider Tempo: So it is true.

Gauge rose.

Tempo looked from the remains of Clockwork Runner to the square ahead, where shadow moved between the fountain and the old statue at the center plaza. His shoulders squared, but there was something grim and private in his stillness now.

Gauge heard it beneath the armor and decided not to spare either of them the truth.

Kamen Rider Gauge: Jude, if we stop him...the future that sent you here may collapse with him.

Tempo did not flinch.

Kamen Rider Tempo: I know.

Kamen Rider Gauge: And that could erase you.

Kamen Rider Tempo: That was always possible.

Kamen Rider Gauge: Then why are you still standing here?

Kamen Rider Tempo: Because that is what I came back to do. I wanted to save my future, no matter the cost. Geiger...when he learned how to manipulate sound waves like the time stream...he warned me about all of it. It didn't matter then, it matters less now. Because even in the here and now there is someone I refuse to abandon. Someone I want to save.

Kamen Rider Gauge: Ellie. 

Kamen Rider Tempo: Ellie.

Gauge turned toward him fully. 

Kamen Rider Gauge: Then hold on to that. Love is the strongest reason a man ever gets. A man willing to erase himself to save the woman he loves can change the world. When it comes down to the end, do not hold on to fear. Hold on to her.

Kamen Rider Tempo: I will.

Then the square opened before them.

Maestro stood at its center beside the cracked fountain with one hand resting lightly on the stone rim, like a conductor waiting for the hall to stop whispering before he raised the baton. His coat hung in long dark lines around him. His face was pale in the lamplight. His eyes carried the cold blue glow Ty had described, and against the old masonry and brass street lamps that glow looked wrong enough to poison the air around it.

He was not alone.

To his left, the reptilian Chronovore uncouled itself from the broken arch of a storefront and lifted its too-long neck into the light. Bolted iron plates armored its ribcage in ugly vertical bands. Its jaw opened on uneven, crowded teeth. The section of chainmail fused into one shoulder shifted with a wet metallic rasp as muscle slid beneath it.

Near the fountain steps, the boar-like Chronovore stamped one foreleg and lowered its head. The metal point at the end of its horn caught the streetlamp in a clean, murderous line. Rusted chainmail draped over its shoulders, but the links had sunk into flesh and scar as if the creature had kept growing after being forced into armor.

Steam hissed from the alley mouth to Maestro’s right, and the amphibian Chronovore hauled itself into view on broad, slick limbs. Copper piping ran along its spine and vanished into a pressure valve mounted high between the shoulders. With every breath it gave a short, angry burst of vapor that rolled low across the stones.

Above them, clinging almost flat to the wall of a nearby building, the insectoid Chronovore scraped one claw down brick hard enough to throw sparks. Polymer plating overlapped its thorax and upper limbs. Wires hung in exposed black bundles along the abdomen and into the joints. As it shifted, a metal trash can at the far edge of the square shivered, tipped, and began to skitter toward it across the cobbles with a hideous rattling scrape.

Maestro smiled.

Maestro: At last we come to our final symphony!

Gauge stepped forward. Tempo moved with him, slightly off to the side.

Kamen Rider Gauge: You came into my city...my time...and hurt people...people I care about.

Maestro lifted one hand and let it fall in a small dismissive motion. 

Maestro: History is made of disposable civilians.

Kamen Rider Gauge: Not to me. NEVER to me! 

Kamen Rider Tempo: Axis Nova built a dark future on mountain of bodies. That's not going to happen again!

His eyes moved to the wreckage behind them.

Maestro; The machine was loyal. I will give it that.

Gauge’s fists closed.

Tempo spoke before the anger in Gauge could answer for him. 

Kamen Rider Tempo: You needed four monsters and an ambush to break one protector.

Maestro: Then perhaps you two will provide better entertainment. Shall we begin?




He lifted his hand.

The square exploded.

The boar Chronovore hit first.

It came off the fountain steps like a train released from a dead stop, chainmail grinding over its shoulders and lance horn leveled for Gauge’s center mass. Gauge planted himself and met the charge head-on. The impact cracked the stones beneath his boots and drove him backward in a shower of fragments. He caught the horn between both gauntlets, held for less than a second, and then the full weight of the creature bulldozed him clear across the plaza and through the frame of a toppled market stand.

The reptilian Chronovore came in over the boar’s shoulder, neck lashing out in an S-curve so fast the iron rib plates flashed like saw teeth. Its jaws snapped for Gauge’s head. He twisted just enough for the bite to shear a piece of lamppost instead, sparks jumping as metal screamed between its teeth.

At the same moment, the insectoid dropped from the wall onto Tempo.

A trash can, an iron sign bracket, and two loose lengths of railing came skidding after it as if dragged on invisible hooks. Tempo burst sideways into a blur, and the debris smashed where he had been a heartbeat earlier. The insectoid pivoted, limbs moving with a stuttering, predatory precision, and slashed at him with a claw long enough to open his torso from shoulder to hip. Tempo slipped inside the reach of the strike, drove a punch into the joint beneath the polymer plate, and almost succeeded in turning the thing’s momentum against it.

Then the amphibian Chronovore exhaled.

Steam blasted across the paving stones in a white wall. The ground instantly slickened. Tempo’s footing shifted half an inch, which was enough for the insectoid to catch his shoulder with the back edge of its claw and hurl him into the base of the square’s central statue.

Gauge recovered just in time to take the reptilian’s next bite on his forearm. The monster’s teeth dug against armor. Its neck coiled around the lamppost behind him and pulled, using the street itself as leverage. The boar wheeled and came in again, tusks tearing furrows through broken wood. Gauge dropped low, let the boar skim over him by inches, and drove his shoulder into its flank so hard the beast slammed broadside into the fountain.

Maestro did not rush. He only watched. When he moved, it was only to cut one hand through the air. He closed his eyes and "conducted" the battle taking place around him. 

Blue force cracked outward in a narrow arc and smashed into Gauge’s chest just as the reptilian struck again. The hit threw Gauge off line, and the reptilian’s teeth closed over his shoulder plate. It shook him hard enough to blur his vision and flung him into the fountain wall.

Tempo kicked off the statue base, flashed past the insectoid, and tried to create room. The creature answered by dragging more metal into motion. A shutter tore loose from a nearby storefront. Nails screamed out of a bench. A bicycle frame skittered across the street and slammed toward his legs. Tempo turned three of the impacts with sheer speed, but the fourth clipped his ankle and cost him the rhythm he needed to stay unreachable.

The amphibian hit him like a battering ram.

Its shoulder drove into his ribs and sent him sliding through steam-slick stone. Before he stopped moving, the thing was on him again, copper piping trembling along its spine as the pressure valve spat another hot white burst into his face. Tempo crossed his arms and took the blast. The heat hammered his visor and filled the square with a shriek of vapor.

Gauge came out of the fountain in a spray of water and stone. He saw the boar lowering its head for another run. He saw the reptilian circle. He saw Tempo pinned between steam and metal, and he made the only call he could.

Kamen Rider Gauge: Split them up!

Tempo heard him through the noise and answered by moving.

He feinted left, then burst straight through the thinning steam to draw the insectoid after him. The creature took the bait. Metal ripped loose from every side of the square as it pursued him, turning the street behind Tempo into a storm of cans, brackets, loose pipe, and bent signage.

Gauge turned back toward the two remaining brutes in front of him.

The boar charged. The reptilian cut across behind it.

Gauge ran at the boar instead of away from it. At the last second he planted one foot on the broken lip of the fountain, vaulted up and over the lance horn, and came down hard between its shoulders. The chainmail embedded there bit against his boots. The beast bucked like an earthquake. The reptilian lunged upward for his exposed side. Gauge used the movement he already had, threw his full weight into a twist, and forced the boar to clip the reptilian broadside with one tusk.

Across the square, Tempo raced the insectoid through the shell of a ruined café terrace. The creature’s claw gouged lines through tables and chairs while its metal drag effect ripped every fork, frame, and broken hinge into the wake behind him. Tempo ran up a wall, sprang from a hanging sign, and drove both heels into the insectoid’s upper back. Polymer plating cracked. Exposed wires spat blue-white sparks.

The insectoid shrieked and answered by wrenching the iron drainpipe loose from the building itself.

The pipe whipped around and caught Tempo across the torso, sending him crashing through the terrace rail just as the amphibian burst through a cloud of its own steam and landed in the rubble in front of him. Pressure hissed. Wet jaws opened. Tempo rolled clear of the bite by a fraction and came up on one knee, breathing hard now.

The battle had gone from frantic to ugly.

Gauge felt it too.

The boar’s horn grazed his side and cut a bright line of pain through the armor. The reptilian’s chainmail shoulder clipped his helmet as it twisted past, and the weight of it nearly tore him off balance. The monsters were not smart in any human sense, but Maestro had them attacking with the coordination of instruments under a single hand. The moment one committed, another filled the gap. The moment one missed, another punished the recovery.

Gauge drove his elbow into the boar’s neck joint, pivoted, and slammed a backfist into the reptilian’s jaw. The hits landed. Neither creature cared enough. The boar rammed him into a section of collapsed kiosk so hard ancient bolts burst from the wood. The reptilian came over the top and wrapped its long neck around his torso, squeezing.

Not enough air. Not enough leverage. Not enough time.

Then, through the crushing pressure and the scream of stressed armor, he thought of Ty dragging himself through the door of the shop with blood on his apron, and of Aria asking him not for certainty, but for effort.

He drove both hands to his belt.

The gauges there spun.

Valves snapped open along his armor with a violent hiss.

Steam exploded from his shoulders, gauntlets, and calves in a ring that blasted the reptilian off him and staggered the boar half a step. The entire silhouette of his suit thickened as piston housings slid into place and locking seams brightened across the chest and legs. Gauge’s stance dropped lower, heavier, more rooted. Each exhale from the armor was now a mechanical snarl. Valve Form. 

Across the square, Tempo saw the flare and heard his own answer in it as he reached for the red core given to him by Cole.

He pushed off the broken terrace floor and let the heat in his body surge forward instead of holding it back. Blue light flashed through the seams of his armor, then turned white hot at the edges, and a second layer of energy rippled over him like fire. Blazing Tempo stood in the steam with heat rays trembling around him, flames racing in controlled lines down his forearms and shins.

Maestro’s smile faded for the first time.

The fight changed.

The amphibian lunged for Blazing Tempo and met a red and blue impact from his burning guitar. Blazing Tempo flashed past one side of its face, then the other, then directly over its spine, each strike landing in the same heartbeat. Heat bit into the copper piping. The pressure valve screamed. Steam vented wild and uneven.

The insectoid attacked from behind, dragging a broken iron chair and a bent rail into a killing arc. Blazing Tempo let the chair pass under one arm, caught the rail with both hands while it was still moving, and used the creature’s own pull to sling the metal back into its wiring. Sparks erupted. Polymer plating blackened.

Valve Gauge took the boar head-on again, but this time when the lance horn struck his crossed arms, he did not give ground. Valve Form vented in a roar. Stone broke under his boots, but he held. The boar shoved harder. Gauge roared back, twisted, and redirected the charge into the fountain’s central core. The horn punched halfway into the stone base and stuck there for a critical second.

That was all he needed.

Valve Gauge hammered both fists down on the beast’s neck. Rusted chainmail tore free in a spray of links and dark blood. The boar ripped itself loose with a shriek of stone and metal and wheeled wildly, but the line of its attack had been broken.

The reptilian came in low, neck snaking under Valve Gauge’s guard to strike at the seam beneath his arm. He caught the chainmail fused into its shoulder as it passed and felt flesh move sickeningly beneath metal. The creature tried to yank back. Valve Gauge did not let go. He pivoted, planted, and used the chainmail as a handle, dragging the entire upper body sideways into the iron rail of the fountain. Bolted rib plates slammed against stone. A gap opened between two of them.

Valve Gauge drove his right fist into that gap.

The blow went so deep the iron bent inward with a grinding pop. The reptilian thrashed, neck lashing through the air, and Valve Gauge released it only to seize the next motion, step inside it, and ram his shoulder up into the underside of its jaw. Bone cracked. Teeth sprayed across the stones. The creature crashed through the remains of the market stall and did not rise.

Blazing Tempo crossed the square in a streak of heat just as the amphibian’s pressure valve reached a scream. He hit it first with a knife-edge strike to the copper piping, then with a heel kick directly across the valve housing. Metal split. Steam burst upward in a towering white column. The creature convulsed, limbs digging furrows into the slick stones, and Valve Gauge came through the vapor a second later to slam both palms into its chest and drive it backward into the alley wall. Ruptured pressure and shattered masonry met in one deafening impact.



When the steam thinned, the amphibian lay still.

The insectoid skittered up the side of a building, half its exposed wiring now burning. It ripped an entire hanging streetlamp free from its mounting and whipped it across the square at Blazing Tempo’s head. Blazing Tempo ducked under the lamp, ran along the wall of a butcher shop, crossed a window frame at full speed, and came down on the insectoid from above with a descending "axe" that drove fire straight through the cracked opening in its polymer shell.

Its limbs spasmed.

Metal all over the square dropped lifelessly to the ground.

Only the boar remained.

It stood amid shattered stone and torn chainmail, flanks heaving, mouth frothing red. One eye was nearly swollen shut. The other burned with pure animal hatred.

Then it charged again.

Valve Gauge met it in the centerline. Blazing Tempo ran parallel, fire spooling behind him in bright ribbons. Maestro cut the air with one hand, trying to stagger them with another blue shock, but this time Blazing Tempo crossed in front of Gauge and burned straight through the line of force, taking the hit on speed and heat instead of letting it split them apart.

The boar came on.

At the last moment, Blazing Tempo veered inward, planted one foot on the creature’s lowered horn, and used the rising slope of it like a ramp. Valve Gauge caught the horn an instant later, every valve in his suit venting with explosive force as he held the charge in place by sheer leverage.

Blazing Tempo ran up the boar’s skull.

His final step landed between its eyes.

The kick snapped its head backward.

Valve Gauge used the opening, twisted the horn with both arms, and tore the monster sideways off its own feet. The boar crashed onto its flank with enough violence to shake dust loose from every window around the square. Blazing Tempo came down beside it in a burst of fire, and the two Riders landed one strike together, gold and blue, into the exposed side of its neck.

The boar shuddered once and fell still.

All four Chronovores exploded at once. 

The square finally went quiet enough to hear the crackle of small fires and the soft settling of broken stone.

Gauge’s Valve Form vented one long exhausted sigh. The added mass of the armor began to retract. Locks disengaged. The suit thinned back toward normal as the form powered down under accumulated damage and strain. Blazing Tempo powered back down to Tempo as well. 

Maestro stood alone at the center of the wreckage. He looked around at the damage. Then he looked back at them with something worse than rage.

Kamen Rider Gauge: It's over. Final curtain you might say.

Maestro spread his hands and turned slightly, as if inviting applause for a final movement only he could hear.

Maestro: Heh. So it has come to this? Very well...very well. If you want something done right. Do it yourself!

His body convulsed.



The transformation began at the spine. It arched so sharply it seemed for a moment that his back had broken. Then the bones shifted under the skin, lengthening, knotting, and driving outward into a new geometry. His coat tore along both shoulders. Flesh and dark plating split together. 

Monster Maestro screamed, and the sound was half roar, half tearing metal.

He moved faster than either of them expected.

The enlarged arm caught Tempo first and hurled him across the square. He smashed through the outer wall of an old bakery in a burst of brick dust and vanished into darkness.

Gauge hit Monster Maestro at the same instant with a driving punch to the chest cavity, but the creature absorbed it, twisted, and smashed the hammer-arm into Gauge’s side hard enough to lift him off the ground. The follow-up strike came before he landed. Then another. Monster Maestro fought not like a conductor now, but like a thing bred to pulp resistance with overwhelming force.

Gauge blocked two hits and failed to block the third. The blow landed across his helmet and drove him to one knee. His armor flickered. Monster Maestro seized the chance, grabbed Gauge by the helmet, and wrenched upward.

The faceplate tore free.



Cold air hit Cole’s sweat-damp and bloody skin.

Monster Maestro lifted him one-handed until Cole’s boots left the ground.

Tempo tried to rise in the ruined bakery, but stone and beams collapsed around him, pinning one arm for a critical second.

Cole stared straight into those burning blue eyes and spoke through blood and pain.

Cole Beckett: If you kill me here, I take the Chrono Engine with me. The timelines stay apart. They never merge. You never get Omega Gauge's power.

Monster Maestro laughed. It was a terrible sound.

Monster Maestro: You still do not understand what you are. You think you could just remove the suit, and lose its power? Your eyes...they still glow. Glowing with the timestream that flows within you.

Cole’s expression changed.

Monster Maestro smiled, or did the broken approximation of one.

Monster Maestro: You tore away the throne. You did not erase the hunger. When I consume your DNA, I will not need your permission, your machine, or your mercy. I will take what is left of your connection into myself. And then I will become a god of time!

From the edge of the square, the pocket watch’s lid snapped open with a sharp metallic click.

Pocket Watch: That is impossible. Cole surrendered Omega Gauge. The cores were separated. The pathways were severed. He should not still be connected to the stream.

Cole heard it.

Even hanging in Monster Maestro’s fist, even half-choked and bleeding, he answered.

Kamen Rider Gauge: I am connected. I can...I can feel it. I would be connected to the timestream...because...I created this time stream.

The air changed. The clocks in the square, in the shop windows, in the wrecked bakery, in the watch pocket lying beside the broken machine, all answered at once with a single unified strike.

Three lights tore into being.

One rose from the damaged heart of Cole’s own driver, where dormant circuitry suddenly blazed to life. One arced up from the wreckage-scattered street, drawn out of the lingering record of battles already fought. The last descended in a straight white-gold line.

The three cores circled Cole once.

Monster Maestro recoiled on instinct.

That was enough.

Cole tore free, hit the ground on one knee, and caught the first core in his palm. Then the second. Then the third. The Chrono Engine at his waist opened with a mechanical roar that sounded less like awakening than recognition.

Pocket Watch: Cole! Don't do it!

Cole slotted the cores in one by one.

Kamen Rider Gauge: I understand this time! I am in control! I won't get lost! I know what's important to me. I know where I am. I'm in the here...and now.




The transformation detonated outward from the driver.

This Omega Gauge did not arrive as an untouchable abstraction outside space and consequence. It came into the cracked square, under broken lamps and drifting embers, as armor. Real armor. Heavy, radiant, and immediate. Gold light bled through black mechanical seams. White-hot rings traveled once across the chest and locked into layered plates. The visor flared, then narrowed into a harder, clearer gaze. Energy ran through the suit not like a cosmos opening, but like power committing itself to flesh, metal, and decision.



Omega Gauge stood in the present.

Monster Maestro staggered back a step.

Tempo tore himself free of the wrecked bakery wall and emerged through dust and shattered brick, armor cracked, one shoulder smoking, but still upright. He saw the familiar and frightening form, understood instantly what it meant, and let out one breath that was almost a laugh.

Kamen Rider Tempo: Heh. Why not?

Kamen Rider Omega Gauge: I'm here. I'm not everywhere at once. I'm here...and I'm challenging you to come back me, Maestro. Now!

Monster Maestro roared and charged.

The first exchange was violent enough to erase the last illusions of fatigue. Omega Gauge met the rush with a forearm block that split the impact into sparks and shock waves. Tempo flashed around the flank and drove a blazing kick into the cavity in Maestro’s chest. Blue light burst outward. Monster Maestro twisted, missed Tempo with the blade-arm by inches, and took a piston-hard punch from Omega Gauge across the jaw that sent fragments of brass-colored teeth spinning into the air.

He was still monstrously strong. He still nearly caught Tempo on the next turn. He still drove Omega Gauge backward twice, carving trenches in the cobblestones with sheer force. But the shape of the battle had changed. Maestro was no longer dictating terms. He was fighting two men who had already accepted the cost.

Tempo swept low and cut Monster Maestro’s balance. Omega Gauge caught the opening and hammered both fists into the chest cavity, further cracking the false clock-face within. Blue light spilled out in ragged pulses. Monster Maestro lashed out blindly and caught Tempo across the leg, sending him tumbling. Omega Gauge stepped in again and again, each strike shorter, heavier, more deliberate, until the monster gave ground for the first time.

Then Maestro found one last surge of fury and threw them both apart.

Omega Gauge skidded backward. Tempo rolled, came up on one knee, and looked across the ruined square.

The understanding between them needed no further words, but one still came.

Kamen Rider Omega Gauge: Jude.

Tempo rose.

They ran.

Omega Gauge’s leap cracked the stones beneath his feet. Tempo’s ignited the air behind him. One gold-white arc and one blue-orange arc crossed the dark square from opposite angles, converging on the center where Monster Maestro lifted both ruined arms in one final act of resistance.



Omega Gauge and Tempo: DOUBLE RIDER KICK!

Their Double Rider Kick landed together.

For one suspended instant the image held: Omega Gauge and Blazing Tempo driving forward in perfect alignment, Monster Maestro pinned between will and sacrifice, blue light in his eyes widening into shock.

Then the impact went through him.

The false clock in his chest shattered first. The rest of the body followed, splitting under the force that had finally found the exact center of him. Blue fire burst outward, then imploded. Metal fragments, black flesh, and light spiraled up into the night in a single towering column before collapsing into ash and dead sparks that rained over the square.

The silence afterward felt impossible.

No roar. No engine scream. No monster breathing.

Only the soft fall of debris and the distant ticking of clocks.

Omega Gauge landed, then straightened slowly.

Tempo hit the ground a second later and dropped to one hand before pushing himself back up. His armor flickered once, then stabilized.

For a moment neither of them moved.

Omega Gauge turned and held out his hand towards Tempo. 

Jude was still there.

Not fading. Not breaking apart into light. Not becoming transparent at the edges. Still breathing. Still solid. Still looking back at him across the broken square.

Kamen Rider Omega Gauge: You are still here.

Jude gave a breathless, stunned little laugh that did not sound like victory so much as disbelief.

Kamen Rider Tempo: ...Heh...apparently.

The pocket watch opened with a tiny click.

Pocket Watch: ...I don't....I don't know what this means.

Omega Gauge and Tempo powered down. Cole's suit was just a suit now. Cole had resisted the urge it once held to make him one with time, and turned it into a power he could now control. Cole looked from Jude to the dark sky above the square, where the last ash of Maestro had already vanished into the wind.

Cole Beckett: Neither do I. Maybe it means the future isn't certain...it isn't known...and isn't that the way it's supposed to be?

Cole's shop, Back in Time was quiet again.

Ty slept fitfully on the bench beneath the clocks, bandaged and pale. Aria had dimmed the lamps, though not all the way. Warm light still moved across the glass fronts of display cases and the polished rims of open-faced watches laid out for repair. Every clock in the shop was running.

Tick and Tock stood in the center of the room with their backs to the door, staring up at the wall of faces and pendulums as if they had been listening to the city through them.

For once, neither of them sounded playful.

Tick spoke first.

Tick: It is time for the final act.

Tock answered without turning.

Tock: Yes.

A long case clock in the corner gave a low, solemn strike.

Tick tilted her head slightly.

Tick: One of them will be coming.

Tock’s reply was quiet enough that it almost disappeared under the ticking.

Tock: To deal with the schism once and for all.

End of Part 2...

Last edited by Machismo (4/17/2026 2:27 am)