Strong Style Forever » Tokuverse

Machismo · 5/13/2026 1:29 am

Episode 11: Secrets Within

Avalon City was still recovering from the endless succession of monster attacks, dimensional incursions, and giant robot battles that had become alarmingly routine over the last several weeks, but somehow the city kept moving. Workers repaired damaged streets. Shops reopened. Students still attended Avalon Academy. People adapted frighteningly fast when the alternative was giving in to fear.

Trace Mercer stood near the central table studying a digital map that clearly confused him.

Trace Mercer: This magic map changes scale every time I touch it.

Miles Rowan: That’s because you’re zooming in with your fingers.

Trace Mercer: Magic I can manipulate with my fingers. Incredible.

Miles Rowan: ...It's not...magic?

Ashlyn stood nearby pretending not to smile while organizing several old documents they had recovered from Trace's tomb ruins. Lena sat cross-legged atop one of the consoles with the Zauberer book resting open in her lap while Ray leaned against the wall drinking coffee and silently appreciating that, for approximately five consecutive minutes, everything was peaceful.

That peace ended the moment Trace looked up from the map.

Trace Mercer: There is another site west of Avalon City. Beneath the old ridge.

Ray Matthews: Another site?

Trace Mercer: I remember it now. During the war. We weren't exactly a fully united army. Different factions worked together for the greater good, but rarely were we ever in the same place between battles. They seem to only organize when I could get them to.

Lena Solis: So you were the glue?

Trace Mercer: The glue?

Lena Solis: Yeah, you held them all together!

Trace Mercer: Oh! I don't know about that, honestly. I tried to, but it wasn't always easy. I was here though. I remember it, and more chambers exist within this mountain. The symbols match those connected to the Grail.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Another ruin?

Trace Mercer: Yes. May contain more clues.

Lena Solis: Or traps.

Miles Rowan: Or cursed skeletons.

Ray Matthews: Or a giant murder cow.

Miles Rowan: What?

Ray Matthews: I was giving an example of how crazy some of what comes out of your mouth is. That caught you attention, right?

Miles Rowan: You're a hoot, Ray!

Trace ignored most of that.

Trace Mercer: Ray. You are coming with me.

Ray Matthews: Why me specifically?

Trace Mercer: We need a team ready in case of attack, and I know that you can read ancient scripts faster than the others.

Miles Rowan: Translation: you’re too good at your job.

Ray Matthews: Betrayed by literacy yet again.

Ashlyn glanced toward Trace with narrowed eyes.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Sure you don't want me to go as backup?

Trace Mercer: A smaller group will move more quickly.

Ashlyn Westbrook: That is knight talk for “I’m going to walk directly into danger.”

Trace actually considered that.

Trace Mercer: ...Possibly.

Ray sighed heavily.

Ray Matthews: If we disappear into a death pit, I want everyone here to remember that I objected repeatedly and with passion.

The western ridge stood far beyond the populated districts of Avalon City where the forests thickened and the remnants of ancient Avalon began surfacing beneath the modern world. Moss-covered arches rose from the earth like broken teeth while stone roads disappeared beneath roots and centuries of neglect. Trace walked ahead with calm confidence while Ray followed carrying scanning equipment and muttering complaints every few minutes to maintain emotional balance.

Ray Matthews: You know, normal friends go to arcades together.

Trace Mercer: Arcades? Oh yes, the home of the bean champion. We have done that.

Ray Matthews: Yes, and now we are balancing it out with possible death caves.

Trace Matthews: I thought you had a hunger for knowledge, my comrade.

Ray Matthews: It's a lot easier to have that hunger when the artifacts are brought to me.

Trace stopped beside a collapsed stone platform and crouched near several nearly invisible carvings cut into the rock.

Trace Mercer: Here.

Ray Matthews: Ah yes. Ancient ruin markings. I definitely know what those mean and am not improvising professionalism.

He knelt beside Trace and brushed dirt away carefully. Beneath the grime emerged the familiar symbol again.

The Grail.

A chalice surrounded by spiraling lines and five blades.

Ray’s stomach tightened immediately.

Trace Mercer: You recognize it?

Ray feigned ignorance.

Ray Matthews: I mean...it looks like a cup.

Trace stood slowly.

Trace Mercer: This has to be the Grail. I don't much about it, unless it's what they also referred to as a Source Relic. They existed before the Kishiranger powers. Before Vantrex’s war. That means whatever they truly were, it frightened multiple kingdoms across different eras.

Ray avoided eye contact.

That much was true.

Der Gralsbund records described the Grail as much as they could. It was thought to be a relic capable of amazing power depending on the will of the one who controlled it. Entire civilizations had sought it throughout history. Entire civilizations had vanished trying.

And now Trace was standing within arm’s reach of the truth while trusting Ray not to hide anything important.

Ray hated that feeling more every day.

Ray Matthews: So...we go in quietly, investigate cautiously, avoid ancient murder mechanisms, and leave before sundown.

Trace Mercer: Agreed.

The two of them nodded, and confidently took a step into the ruin. The ground collapsed beneath them immediately afterward.

Ray Matthews: Oh, I hate this!

The floor gave way in a roar of stone and dust. Trace lunged toward Ray instinctively while both men plunged into darkness together. Ancient supports shattered around them as they crashed through one hidden chamber after another before slamming violently onto a slanted stone corridor far below the surface.

They slid downward uncontrollably through pitch blackness until the corridor finally leveled out hard enough to send both of them tumbling across cold stone.

Dust filled the air.

Silence followed.

Ray groaned first.

Ray Matthews: Did we die?

Trace Mercer: Death can't be this painful.

Ray Matthews: You have a point.

Trace rose carefully and activated his Oathlink.

Nothing happened.

Only weak red sparks flickered briefly before fading out entirely.

Ray immediately checked his own.

Same result.

Ray Matthews: ...That is extremely concerning. Are they broken? They break? I didn't expect them to break.

Trace Mercer: No. They're not broken. This is Zauberer interference.

Ray Matthews: Zauberer?

Trace Matthews: A magic using clan. They had amazing powers. They could do things that technology is still catching up to. It feels like this is the doing of the Zauberer.

Ray Matthews: It feels like?

Trace Mercer: Yes. The chamber has been sealed against external resonance.

Trace touched the wall beside him.

Ancient runes glowed faintly beneath his fingertips before disappearing again.

Trace Mercer: Someone designed this place specifically to suppress relic energy.

Ray Matthews: Which means somebody expected people like us to come down here.

Trace Mercer: To discourage our going any further.

A distant groan echoed through the darkness ahead.

Neither man liked the sound.

Ray activated the emergency light on his scanner while Trace drew his sword manually. Without transformation energy, the weapon looked strangely mortal in his hands, more knight than Ranger.

Ray Matthews: ...We can't transform, can we? I suddenly miss giant robots very much.

They moved carefully through the underground ruin.

The architecture changed gradually the deeper they traveled. What began as rough medieval stonework slowly transformed into massive cathedral-like halls supported by carved pillars covered in strange overlapping symbols. Some resembled Zauberer sigils. Others resembled the ancient crests of Avalon nobility. Several carried the Grail symbol itself.

The air felt cold and heavy.

At one point they entered a chamber filled with broken statues.

Ray’s light swept across cracked faces frozen in expressions of fear and awe.

Ray Matthews: ...You ever get the feeling you don't belong somewhere?

Trace Mercer: Constantly.

Ray Matthews: Oh right. That makes sense.

Trace stopped suddenly.

Trace Mercer: Listen.

Ray froze.

Water.

Very faint.

Somewhere deeper underground.

Trace Mercer: There is an exit route below us.

Ray Matthews: Excellent.

They continued downward until finally reaching the central chamber.

The room dwarfed everything they had seen before.

A circular vault stretched upward into darkness with towering murals covering every wall. Gold inlays still gleamed despite the age of the chamber while dozens of faded banners hung in tatters from above. At the center stood a massive pedestal shaped like a chalice surrounded by five kneeling stone figures.

Trace stared upward slowly.

Trace Mercer: Amazing. This is what we've been looking for.

Ray Matthews: It sure is.

The murals told the story plainly.

Magnus scholars reaching toward the Grail.

Zauberer channeling energy around it.

The Worzol Dimension tearing through reality to seize it.

And finally...the Church.

Armored priests and hidden agents sealing the Grail away while warriors guarded enormous vault doors beneath a crest Ray knew all too well.

Der Gralsbund.

Ray hesitated, but figured that Trace would know most of what it said already, so he couldn't lie. He read the ancient inscription slowly.

Ray Matthews: “To preserve the balance of the world, the Grail Covenant shall recover and contain all relics whose power threatens mankind.”

Ray remained silent.

Trace looked toward another mural.

Trace Mercer: “Neither king, nor sorcerer, nor demon shall hold dominion over Sanctum space.”

Ray exhaled quietly.

Ray Matthews: Sanctum space. "The Zauberer shaped it through magic. Magnus sought to harness it scientifically. The Worzol Dimension corrupts it through force."

Trace turned toward Ray.

Trace Mercer: "And Der Gralsbund exists to prevent all three from succeeding."

Ray forced himself to shrug.

Ray Matthews: Assuming any of this is accurate.

Trace Mercer: You do not sound surprised.

Ray Matthews: It's uh...very surprising. Hard to wrap my head around.

Trace watched him carefully now.

That somehow made it worse.

Trace Mercer: Ray...who trained you?

Ray Matthews: What?

Trace Mercer: You've been holding back. This whole time. Who trained you?

Ray opened his mouth—

The roar interrupted him.

A thunderous impact shook the chamber.

Then another.

Then another.

Garrikus emerged from the darkness beyond the pillars like a living siege engine, his massive armored frame scraping stone as he entered the vault. Beside him walked a monstrous Minotaur-like Worzol creature nearly as large as he was, covered in bronze armor plates fused directly into thick black fur. Massive curved horns protruded from its skull while molten orange cracks pulsed beneath its skin.

The creature carried a gigantic executioner axe across one shoulder.

Its eyes glowed red immediately upon seeing them.

Garrikus: There you are.

Ray Matthews: Giant murder cow?! No. I brought this on myself. Just please don't tell Miles.

The Minotaur slammed the axe into the floor hard enough to crack the stone.

Trace Mercer: Stay alert.

Ray Matthews: Very alert. So very alert!

Garrikus looked amused.

Garrikus: No armor. No relics. No giant machines. Only frightened little men beneath the earth.

Trace raised his sword calmly.

Trace Mercer: Then come test us.

The Minotaur charged instantly.

Its speed was horrifying for something that large.

Trace intercepted the first swing directly, steel shrieking violently as the axe crashed against his blade. The impact drove him backward across the floor while Ray grabbed a fallen spear from one of the statues and rammed it into the creature’s side.

The spear shattered instantly.

Ray Matthews: So unhelpful!

The Minotaur backhanded Ray across the chamber hard enough to send him crashing through a cracked pillar.

Trace immediately attacked the creature’s exposed leg joints while Garrikus watched silently from the shadows.

The battle became desperate immediately.

Without their powers, every mistake mattered.

And the monster never stopped advancing.

The underground ruin shook again as the Minotaur dragged its axe across the stone floor, sparks screaming behind the blade while Trace Mercer repositioned himself between the monster and Ray Matthews. The chamber around them had once been magnificent, perhaps even holy, but now it looked like the remains of a forgotten war. Broken knight statues leaned at crooked angles beneath vaulted ceilings, banners rotted into ribbons hung from cracked arches, and ancient murals depicting the Grail watched silently from the walls as though history itself had paused to witness another battle.

Ray pushed himself upright beside the shattered pillar and wiped blood from the corner of his mouth.

Ray Matthews: You know, in hindsight, maybe the two of us exploring this dangerous cave was bad for team bonding.

Trace Mercer: Your observations continue to be timely.

The Minotaur roared and charged again.

The monster’s sheer size should have made it slow, but its movements were horrifyingly fast, driven by brutal muscle beneath thick bronze armor fused directly into its flesh. Its axe came downward with enough force to split the floor apart. Trace rolled beneath the strike at the last possible second and slashed upward across the creature’s side, sparks bursting where steel met enchanted armor.

The blow barely slowed it.

Ray grabbed a fallen stone fragment and hurled it toward the creature’s face. The Minotaur turned instinctively toward the distraction, and Trace immediately seized the opening, driving his shoulder into the monster’s chest hard enough to shove it backward several feet.

Garrikus watched the entire exchange without moving.

Garrikus: The ancient knight still struggles well.

Ray Matthews: I'm not doing so badly either.

The Minotaur swung again.

Trace caught the axe handle with both hands before the blade could split Ray in half. The impact drove Trace down to one knee instantly, muscles straining visibly as the monster forced the weapon downward inch by inch.

Ray’s eyes widened.

Ray Matthews: Trace!

Trace snarled through clenched teeth.

Trace Mercer: Move!

Ray moved. Forward.

He snatched a broken ceremonial blade from the floor and rammed it directly into a glowing crack beneath the Minotaur’s arm. The creature roared in pain and recoiled hard enough for Trace to wrench the axe aside before delivering a brutal kick into its chest.

The Minotaur staggered backward.

Trace grabbed Ray’s sleeve.

Trace Mercer: Run.

They bolted through the side corridor moments before the monster smashed through the chamber after them.

The ruin became a nightmare maze of collapsing hallways and buried sanctuaries. Ancient doors lined the corridors, many covered in Zauberer runes that pulsed faintly whenever Ray’s scanner light crossed them. Water dripped steadily somewhere below them while the Minotaur’s thunderous footsteps echoed behind them with relentless certainty.

Ray nearly slipped turning a corner.

Ray Matthews: Does this place have a single hallway that doesn’t lead directly to death?!

Trace Mercer: Not so far.

The Minotaur burst through the wall beside them.

Stone exploded inward.

Trace grabbed Ray by the jacket and threw him clear before the axe shattered the corridor where they had been standing. Dust and debris filled the air instantly.

The creature charged blindly through the smoke.

Trace intercepted it again.

This time he used the corridor itself.

He sidestepped the Minotaur’s momentum and redirected the monster into one of the cracked support pillars. The ancient stone shattered under the impact, and part of the ceiling collapsed onto the creature in a roar of debris.

Ray stared.

Ray Matthews: Remind me never to play chess with you.

Trace grabbed him again.

Trace Mercer: Keep moving.

They continued deeper.

Eventually the tunnels widened into a chamber unlike any they had seen so far.

A massive circular library stretched before them, though “library” barely described it. Thousands of ancient stone tablets lined towering shelves carved directly into the walls while suspended bridges crossed enormous empty spaces overhead. At the center of the chamber stood a massive rotating mechanism made of gold and black iron shaped around the image of the Grail itself.

Ray slowed despite the danger.

Ray Matthews: ...Oh no.

Trace Mercer: What?

Ray Matthews: All our answers, and no time to snoop around.

Trace looked toward him sharply.

Ray immediately regretted how quickly the words had come out.

Trace stepped toward one of the stone tablets and brushed dust away carefully. Ancient text revealed itself beneath his fingertips.

Trace Mercer: “The Grail binds the thresholds between worlds.”

Trace moved to another tablet.

Trace Mercer: “The Grail stabilizes Sanctum space, from which magic, relic resonance, and dimensional convergence emerge.”

Ray Matthews: That sounds way too dangerous for anyone to have.

Ray felt cold suddenly.

That aligned far too closely with Der Gralsbund doctrine.

Another tablet caught Trace’s attention.

Trace Mercer: “Should the Grail fall beneath singular control, balance shall perish.”

Ray swallowed.

Ray Matthews: Magnus wanted it.

Trace Mercer: Yes.

Ray Matthews: The Zauberer wanted it.

Trace Mercer: Yes.

Ray Matthews: And Vantrex wants it now.

Trace turned toward the largest mural in the room.

It depicted armored priests beneath the crest of Der Gralsbund carrying relics into hidden vaults while kings and armies knelt outside barred gates.

Trace Mercer: The Church feared all sides equally.

Ray Matthews: Understandably.

Trace’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Trace Mercer: You think so? Magnus was trying to protect people. The Grail would have been an instrument for good.

Ray Matthews: You hope so.

Trace Mercer: Sounds like you align with the church's side of things.

Ray’s heart skipped.

Before he could answer, the library exploded.

The Minotaur crashed through the upper walkway like a missile, destroying ancient shelves and sending hundreds of stone tablets raining downward. Trace shoved Ray aside as debris thundered into the floor around them.

The creature landed heavily and roared.

Garrikus entered behind it.

Garrikus: Enough running.

Trace stepped forward.

Trace Mercer: Ray. We need more answers. Read quickly.

Ray Matthews: Before we're gored to death?

Trace Mercer: Correct.

The Minotaur attacked again.

This time Trace met it head-on.

The fight became savage immediately.

Without Ranger armor, Trace fought purely as the knight he once was, using precision, footwork, and brutal efficiency against overwhelming force. He redirected swings instead of blocking them directly, used pillars to disrupt the creature’s momentum, and targeted the same weakened joints repeatedly.

Ray moved through the chamber frantically scanning the tablets while dodging debris.

One inscription finally made his blood run cold.

Ray Matthews: "Whoever controls the Grail controls the balance between worlds."

Trace Mercer: That's why they want it!

The Minotaur roared and slammed Trace through one of the ancient shelves.

Stone exploded everywhere.

Ray immediately grabbed another broken spear and stabbed the creature behind the knee. The Minotaur kicked him away hard enough to send him sprawling across the floor.

Garrikus stepped closer now.

Garrikus: Lord Vantrex shall claim the Grail. Your struggle delays only the inevitable.

Trace rose slowly from the rubble.

Blood ran down one side of his face now.

Trace Mercer: If Vantrex wanted inevitability, he should have chosen a weaker world.

The Minotaur charged again.

Trace suddenly grabbed one of the ancient chains hanging from the upper mechanisms and leapt upward. The creature smashed through the space beneath him while Trace swung across the chamber and landed above Ray. They locked eyes. Ray immediately understood.

Ray Matthews: You have a plan?!

Trace Mercer: A dangerous one.

Ray Matthews: Of course you do!

Trace shouted down toward Ray.

Trace Mercer: The lower tunnels lead toward water! We force them downward!

Ray stared at the collapsing library around them.

The Minotaur climbed upward toward Trace while Garrikus advanced toward Ray.

Ray’s pulse spiked instantly.

The massive general raised one armored hand toward him.

Garrikus: Your fear smells familiar, like a scared little priest.

Ray froze.

Trace’s eyes snapped toward him immediately.

Trace Mercer: Priest?

Ray’s stomach dropped.

Garrikus smiled beneath his armored faceplate.

Garrikus: Just remembering all those "holy men" who stood in my way long ago. They failed, like you will fail.

The floor beneath them collapsed before the moment could continue.

The entire library tilted downward in a deafening avalanche of stone, chains, and shattered shelves. Trace seized Ray by the arm while both men slid violently down the collapsing chamber toward the lower tunnels.

The Minotaur crashed after them.

Garrikus remained standing impossibly steady amid the destruction while watching them disappear into the depths.

Garrikus: Run while you can.

The lower tunnels flooded gradually with icy water.

Trace and Ray stumbled through waist-deep currents while the roar of the underground waterfall grew louder ahead. Behind them the Minotaur continued pursuing relentlessly despite the collapsing ruin.

Ray panted heavily. Garrikus made mention of the Priests. Did he know?

The tunnel opened suddenly onto a massive underground waterfall spilling through a crack in the mountainside.

Daylight.

Escape.

Unfortunately the only path forward involved jumping.

Ray looked over the edge.

Then looked at Trace.

Ray Matthews: I need you to understand that I hate this.

The Minotaur burst from the tunnel behind them.

Trace grabbed Ray’s arm immediately.

Trace Mercer: Trust me.

Ray Matthews: ...Trust you?

Trace Mercer: My comrade. My friend. I put my trust in you, when I gave you the Oath Buckler. Trust me now.

Ray Matthews: Trust you. Right. Right. Let's do this.

And they jumped.

The waterfall swallowed them instantly.

Back at the KED Building, Lena Solis sat with old texts while Ashlyn paced nearby impatiently.

Miles leaned over the couch upside down while eating chips.

Miles Rowan: You're doing a lot of reading.

Lena Solis: I’m trying to understand what Magnus knows at the Zauberer. That's what Malvora is, and she's very dangerous.

Miles Rowan: You don't have to tell me. I already know that. She's very attractive too.

Lena ignored him and focused on the book again.

The runic circles on the page shimmered faintly beneath her fingertips.

She closed her eyes.

The world tilted.

Water.

Darkness.

Trace and Ray running through collapsing tunnels while a horned monster hunted them.

Lena gasped and jerked upright.

Lena Solis: They’re in trouble.

Ashlyn immediately stopped pacing.

Ashlyn Westbrook: What?

Lena Solis: You didn't see that just now?

Miles Rowan: Gonna have to be specific.

Lena Solis: I saw Trace and Ray. They're in danger!

Ashlyn Westbrook: Did you Oathlink show you?

Lena Solis: Uh...yes! Probably! That's got to be it!

Miles Rowan: ...Then we need to help them!

The trio quickly made their way to the location given to them. As they drove, Lena continued to see visions, but it wasn't from the Oathlink, and she knew it. She saw them rushing through the labyrinth, as it collapsed around them, sealing away all the ancient history therein. She heard them speak. She could see them and feel them because they were surrounded by Zauberer magic, and she was quickly learning that she could tune in.

Trace and Ray slammed into the freezing river below the waterfall moments before Ashlyn, Lena, and Miles reached the riverbank.

Ashlyn immediately ran forward.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace! Ray!

Trace surfaced first while dragging Ray upward beside him.

The Minotaur exploded through the waterfall seconds later.

Its roar shook the forest.

The instant it crossed the boundary of the ruin, every Oathlink reignited simultaneously.

Energy surged.

Relief flooded Trace’s face.

Trace Mercer: Transform!

The Oathbucklers glowed and resonated with the Oathlinks.

Trace Mercer: Oath forged.

Ray Matthews: Knowledge guarded.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Courage sworn.

Miles Rowan: Wild heart awakened.

Lena Solis: Truth shone.

All Five: Kishiranger, arise!

The five Rangers transformed together in brilliant flashes of color beneath the waterfall mist.

The Minotaur charged directly toward them.

Kishi Red intercepted it immediately while Kishi Black darted around its flank, blades carving glowing cuts across the creature’s armor. Kishi Blue absorbed a devastating axe strike with Vanguard while Kishi Green launched himself off nearby rocks to strike downward with Gungnir.

Kishi Yellow swung Aymr directly into the monster’s ribs hard enough to send it crashing sideways through several trees.

Lena Solis: This thing is mad!

Miles Rowan: Did you guys have fun playing without us?

The Minotaur roared and unleashed a shockwave from its axe that hurled several Rangers backward.

Kishi Blue planted himself between the others and absorbed the brunt of the attack.

Ray Matthews: Regroup!

Ashlyn Westbrook: That thing is going to overwhelm us!

Trace Mercer: Then we overwhelm it first!

Trace and Ashlyn attacked with Oathrender and Gravebrand simultaneously, and forced the Minotaur back, before Ray tagged in and forced it further back with Vanguard. He pushed it back into the water and it finally faltered beneath the pressure, giving the team just enough time.

Trace Mercer: Kishiranger! Unite your vows!

All five Rangers sprinted forward together as energy surged towards Oathrender.

The monster roared and charged directly toward them.

All Five: FINAL VOW!

Golden energy erupted around the team.

The finishing attack struck the monster directly.

The explosion shook the forest.

But as quickly as he was defeated, dark Worzol lightning erupted upward.

The Minotaur began growing.

Miles groaned loudly.

Miles Rowan: Of course it's a giant now

The Stahlritter descended moments later into the forest clearing.

Trees shattered beneath massive feet while the Minotaur swung its colossal axe through entire sections of forest. Krieger met the blows directly while Hector shielded the others from shockwaves powerful enough to flatten the terrain.

Drakken engaged aggressively alongside Krieger while Kestrel used speed to harass the giant’s blind spots. Spiegel attacked from range before charging in with devastating axe strikes.

The battle gradually drove deeper into the forest far from the city.

Kishi Red: Voll Stahlritter formation!

The five machines combined.

The completed giant knight stood towering above the trees.

The Minotaur charged recklessly one final time.

Voll Stahlritter met it head-on.

Their clash split the forest apart.

Trace Mercer: This ancient forest doesn't deserve to be trampled like this.

The Minotaur roared defiantly and charged anyway.

Miles Rowan: That thing seriously doesn’t know when to quit.

Ray Matthews: Neither do we.

The giant executioner swung its axe downward with enough force to split the mountain behind Voll Stahlritter.The combined knight caught the strike barehanded.The impact froze the battlefield.Then Voll Stahlritter shoved the axe aside and drove its armored fist directly into the Minotaur’s chest.The monster staggered backward.Voll Stahlritter pressed the advantage instantly.A sword slash severed one horn.A shield bash shattered the monster’s shoulder.A spinning kick launched the Minotaur through an entire mountain ridge. The site of the ancient repository Trace and Ray had just escaped from. It was most certainly buried forever now. The creature crashed through stone and rose again roaring.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Still?!

Miles Rowan: This guy is a menace! By the way, it's a murder bull, Ray!

Ray Matthews: I was hoping you wouldn't remember that.

The Minotaur gathered seismic energy into its axe one final time.The weapon glowed like a volcanic eruption.Trace’s eyes narrowed.

Trace Mercer: Everyone. Full output.

Energy surged through Voll Stahlritter.The chest crest ignited brilliantly.Golden lines spread across the armor while all five Oathlink symbols appeared behind the giant knight in massive radiant circles.

All Five: GRAND CROSS!

Voll Stahlritter drew its colossal sword backward.Then swung.The attack became a massive cross-shaped wave of energy that tore across the forest and consumed the Minotaur completely. Mountains split apart beneath the blast while the night sky itself seemed to flash gold.The giant monster froze silently.A glowing cross-shaped scar appeared across its body.Then the Minotaur exploded into thousands of fading embers that drifted harmlessly across the ruined forest.Silence settled slowly afterward.Inside Voll Stahlritter’s cockpit, everyone breathed heavily.

Ray looked down quietly.

Trace noticed immediately.

But said nothing.

Late that night, Ray sat alone inside his room at the KED Building.

Rain tapped softly against the window while the photograph rested in his hands.

Young Ray Matthews stood beside Father Lughbow beneath a church garden archway. The older priest had one hand on his shoulder while both of them laughed at something outside the frame.

Ray stared at the picture for a long time.

Then finally spoke softly into the empty room.

Ray Matthews: I don’t know who I’m supposed to protect anymore.

Outside his room, the KED Building remained alive with voices, footsteps, and the warmth of people who trusted one another.

And for the first time since childhood...

Ray Matthews was beginning to wonder if Der Gralsbund had taught him to fear the wrong things all along.

To Be Continued...

Last edited by Machismo (5/13/2026 3:18 am)

Machismo · 5/15/2026 1:02 am

Episode 12: A Knight in the Sun

The sun shimmered over the coast of Avalon Bay in brilliant streaks of gold and blue while waves rolled rhythmically onto the white sand beaches. Seagulls drifted overhead and the boardwalk buzzed with the noise of tourists, beach vendors, arcade machines, and the scent of grilled seafood drifting through the salty air. For most people, it was a perfect summer day. For Trace Mercer, it was complete madness.

The former knight stood frozen near the parking lot beside the Knight Express Delivery van while staring at the shoreline with the same expression he normally reserved for Worzol abominations emerging from dimensional rifts.

Trace Mercer: This... is considered a tactical retreat location?

Ray Matthews adjusted his glasses while unloading a cooler from the van.

Ray Matthews: It’s a beach trip, Trace.

Trace Mercer: Why are there so many nearly naked civilians? Is it some sort of communal bath?

Miles Rowan burst out laughing so hard he nearly dropped the volleyball under his arm.

Miles Rowan: Buddy, you are about to experience modern culture all at once.

At the changing booths, Ashlyn exited the women's section very hesitantly, wearing a thin, and very revealing bikini, at the insistence of a smiling and approving Lena Solis.

Ashlyn Westbrook: I don't know about this. It's a bit much.

Lena Solis: It's not a bit much, it's a bit little, and that's the point.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Is it? I thought we came here to relax!

Lena Solis: First hot day of the year in Avalon City, you bet we were going to come here, but not just to relax. Don't you want to get a tan too?

Ashlyn Westbrook: I don't tan. I never have.

Lena Solis: That's just because you're always deep diving into caves and tombs. You want to look your best for you know who, don't you?

Ashlyn Westbrook: What? I wasn't thinking that.

Lena Solis: And yet you're blushing. Fine, I'll go out there and make the boys drool by myself. It's been a loooooong time since the knight has probably seen a woma-

Ashlyn Westbrook: Wait up! I'm...I'm coming with you.

Trace’s eyes slowly swept across the crowded beach. Children sprinted through the surf. Teenagers tossed frisbees through the air. Music blasted from nearby speakers. Groups played volleyball in the sand while people lounged beneath umbrellas with frozen drinks.

Then his gaze stopped.

Ashlyn Westbrook stepped out from behind the van wearing very little, the dark colors contrasting sharply against her pale skin and long black hair flowing in the sea breeze. Lena Solis followed beside her in a bright yellow bikini with sunglasses resting on her head.

Trace immediately turned completely red as he fell to the sand.

His entire face locked up so hard that Ray physically watched his brain fail to process the situation.

Trace Mercer: W-Why are you so-so-so...wow?

Ashlyn blinked once before crossing her arms.

Ashlyn Westbrook: It's my swim suit. Do you like it?

Lena grinned wickedly.

Lena Solis: Oh this is gonna be fun.

Miles poked out from behind a large rock.

Miles Rowan: Thank you, Avalon Bay!

Ray immediately smacked him in the chest.

Ray Matthews: Stop acting like you’ve never seen a swimsuit before.

Miles Rowan: I have seen swimsuits before. I just haven’t seen them on teammates trying to save the world.

Trace was still staring at Ashlyn with the expression of a knight who had accidentally wandered into forbidden territory.

Trace Mercer: Your apparel is-

Ashlyn slowly walked closer to him, enjoying every second of his suffering.

Ashlyn Westbrook: It’s called swimwear.

Trace Mercer: It's very...lacking?

Ashlyn Westbrook: This is what people wear to swim...more or less.

Trace Mercer: Less? It can be less?

Ashlyn Westbrook: I mean, what did you expect us to wear? Capes?

Trace Mercer: The cape inspires morale.

Lena snorted.

Lena Solis: You know what, that honestly tracks.

Ashlyn leaned slightly closer to Trace while lowering her voice.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Don't you like what you see?

Trace immediately looked away.

Trace Mercer: It's very appealing to the eye.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You sure?

Trace Mercer: Entirely.

Ashlyn stepped around him slowly.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Then why can’t you look at me?

Miles collapsed into the sand laughing.

Ray Matthews: Ashlyn, you are absolutely torturing him.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Yes.

Trace Mercer: I am not tortured.

Lena raised an eyebrow.

Lena Solis: Your ears are red.

Trace immediately covered them.

Miles was now fully incapable of functioning.

Miles Rowan: Bro is fighting for his life harder here than against Worzol monsters!

Ray sighed heavily while dragging chairs toward the beach.

Ray Matthews: We are supposed to be relaxing today. No monsters. No ruins. No secret organizations. No ancient relics. Just one normal day.

An hour later, the group had settled near the shoreline beneath a large umbrella. Ray read quietly while Lena worked on applying sunscreen. Miles attempted to flirt with two girls playing volleyball nearby and was failing spectacularly.

Trace remained seated stiffly in a beach chair while wearing board shorts and a shirt, feeling comfortable, but exposed. Rey seemed to notice.

Ray Matthews: Trace...have you ever actually relaxed before?

Trace considered the question seriously.

Trace Mercer: Not in fifteen hundred years? But then again, wasn't that whole sleep...relaxing?

Ashlyn stared at him.

Ashlyn Westbrook: That’s not relaxing. That a coma. A long coma.

Trace Mercer: Oh.

Miles returned at that exact moment looking devastated.

Miles Rowan: I got rejected twice in under four minutes.

Lena Solis: Skill issue.

Miles collapsed backward into the sand dramatically.

Miles Rowan: Why do women hate me?

Ashlyn looked directly at him.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You ran up to them and scared them!

Miles Rowan: ...I was over eager? Is that it?

Ray Matthews: When aren't you over eager?

Trace slowly looked toward the ocean again where dozens of people swam through the waves.

Trace Mercer: So everyone came here willingly...to immerse themselves in seawater? This is fun for the modern culture.

Lena stared at him.

Lena Solis: Is this a culture shock or something?

Trace Mercer: Everything is a culture shock. Everything.

Ashlyn laughed despite herself, and the sound caught Trace completely off guard. For a second, he forgot about the beach entirely. The sunlight reflected in her dark eyes while the wind moved strands of hair across her face.

She caught him staring.

Ashlyn Westbrook: What?

Trace immediately looked away.

Trace Mercer: Nothing.

Ashlyn smiled faintly.

Ray noticed.

Ray Matthews: Oh no.

Miles Rowan: What?

Ray Matthews: They’re doing the thing again.

Miles followed Ray’s gaze between Trace and Ashlyn and immediately gasped.

Miles Rowan: Ohhhhhh.

Trace Mercer: What?

Ashlyn smirked into her drink.

Later that afternoon, the group wandered toward the boardwalk arcade where Trace became instantly obsessed with a fishing game that involved repeatedly slamming a mechanical harpoon button.

Trace Mercer: This machine is intriguing.

Lena Solis: It’s for children.

Trace Mercer: The children of this time have such wonders!

Ashlyn watched him with amused disbelief while he aggressively accumulated tickets from increasingly shaken arcade machines.

Meanwhile, far beyond the crowded beaches, black smoke rose silently from the cliffs overlooking Avalon Bay.

Vire the Swift stood atop a jagged rock formation while several Dreadlings emerged from shadow portals behind him. Beside Vire stood a towering Worzol Monster clad in barnacle-like armor covered in jagged coral spikes. Water constantly poured from openings in its body while glowing blue eyes stared toward the shoreline.

Vire grinned wickedly.

Vire the Swift: Look at them. Avalon’s protectors wasting time splashing around. Playing games...without me? That's just rude.

The monster growled deeply.

Vire the Swift: Lord Vantrex wants us to turn up the heat. He wants us to defeat them, and the General that pulls it off will sit at his right hand when he claims this dimension. That seat has my name on it!

The creature slammed its claws together.

Vire laughed.

Vire the Swift: Let's have some fun.

The attack began as the ocean exploded upward.

A massive wave crashed onto the shoreline as screaming civilians scattered in every direction. Beach umbrellas snapped apart while food stands overturned violently across the boardwalk.

The drowned knight monster emerged from the surf surrounded by dozens of Dreadlings pouring from swirling water portals.

Trace was already moving before the first scream finished echoing.

Trace Mercer: Evacuate the civilians!

Ashlyn immediately sprinted beside him while Ray began directing people toward higher ground.

Miles Rowan: Vacation ruined! Vacation ruined!

Lena kicked a Dreadling directly through a surf shop window.

Lena Solis: Focus, Miles!

The Dreadlings charged across the beach swinging rusted blades while civilians fled through the chaos.

Trace intercepted the first wave head-on.

Even without transforming, he moved like a force of nature.

He grabbed a beach volleyball pole and swung it like a spear directly into a Dreadling’s chest before spinning into another with a brutal kick.

Ashlyn slid beneath a slash and smashed a folding chair over another monster’s head.

The drowned knight monster roared while sending spiraling torrents of water across the beach. Sand exploded upward as kiosks shattered beneath the pressure.

The creature’s voice echoed like distorted whale-song.

Worzol Monster: The sea claims all.

Vire casually strolled across the top of the water behind it.

Vire the Swift: You guys seriously picked the worst possible day to relax.

Trace grabbed up Oathrender and pointed toward him.

Trace Mercer: Vire.

Vire bowed mockingly.

Vire the Swift: Nice shorts, ancient warrior.

Trace looked genuinely offended.

Trace Mercer: They are nice! M'lady Ashlyn picked them out for me!

Ashlyn actually laughed during combat.

Vire snapped his fingers.

Every Dreadling charged simultaneously.

Trace raised his Oathlink.

Trace Mercer: Kishirangers!

All five raised their Oathbucklers together.

Trace Mercer: Oath forged.

Ray Matthews: Knowledge guarded.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Courage sworn.

Miles Rowan: Wild heart awakened.

Lena Solis: Truth shone.

All Five: Kishiranger, arise!

Brilliant colored energy exploded across the shoreline.

Red flames spiraled around Trace.

Blue light surged around Ray.

Green wind erupted around Miles.

Golden light flashed around Lena.

Dark energy flowed around Ashlyn.

The transformed Kishirangers landed across the ruined beach.

Kishi Red pointed Oathrender forward.

Trace Mercer: Advance!

The battle exploded instantly.

Kishi Green vaulted over crashing waves while slamming Gungnir into advancing Dreadlings. Kishi Yellow spun through groups of enemies with acrobatic kicks while Kishi Blue held up Vanguard to keep the Dreadlings from following the civilians.

Kishi Black moved like a phantom through the battlefield, Gravebrand cutting through enemies in dark arcs of energy.

Meanwhile Kishi Red clashed directly against the Worzol monster.

Their swords collided with explosive force.

Water erupted around them.

The monster swung massive claws downward while Red blocked with Oathrender before driving a kick into its chest hard enough to crack the armor plating.

Vire observed from nearby while lounging atop a wrecked lifeguard tower.

Vire the Swift: Honestly? This is great beach entertainment.

Kishi Green immediately threw Gungnir directly at him.

Vire vanished in a blur.

Miles groaned.

Miles Rowan: I don't like that guy!

Ray Matthews: Remind you of anyone?

Miles Rowan: Huh?

The Worzol monster raised both arms skyward.

The ocean answered.

Gigantic spirals of water erupted upward before crashing down toward the city.

Kishi Blue held up Vanguard.

Ray Matthews: HOLD THE LINE!

The shield shook violently.

Kishi Red looked toward the others.

Trace Mercer: Final Vow formation!

The team assembled instantly.

They gave their energy to Kishi Red as he held up Oathrender.

All Five: FINAL VOW!

A gigantic beam of combined energy erupted across the beach and slammed directly through the drowned Worzol monster.

The creature screamed while exploding in a massive burst of seawater and dark energy.

The team exhaled briefly.

Then Vire sighed dramatically.

Vire the Swift: Aaaand now the fun part.

Dark energy surged skyward.

The remains of the monster expanded rapidly as the ocean itself seemed to rise around it.

Within seconds, the giant drowned Worzol monster towered above Avalon Bay while water cascaded endlessly from its armor.

Miles stared upward.

Mile Rowan: I knew this was coming and I’m still upset.

Kishi Red raised Oathrender skyward.

Trace Mercer: Summon the Stahlritter!

The Stahlritter were launched from the KED Building and flew across the city. They descended one by one into the crashing surf.

Krieger landed first in an explosion of red fire.

Hector emerged through blue energy.

Krestrel crashed into the sea beside them.

Drakken descended from darkness itself.

Speigel arrived in a burst of golden light.

The giant drowned Worzol monster roared before charging directly into the ocean depths.

Ashlyn Westbrook It’s drawing us offshore!

Trace Mercer: Then we follow.

The Stahlritter surged into the water.

Massive waves exploded across Avalon Bay while the giant monster moved beneath the ocean surface like a living hurricane. The Stahlritter struggled to maintain footing while entire walls of water slammed against them.

Then the drowned Worzol monster emerged directly beneath Krieger.

The impact launched the red Stahlritter backward across the water.

Trace Mercer: Ngh!

The monster swung a colossal anchor-like weapon through the surf while Kestrel narrowly avoided being crushed.

Miles Rowan: Where did he find that?!

Drakken intercepted the next strike with Gravebrand.

Dark sparks exploded across the sea.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Focus!

The battle carried deeper into Avalon Bay while massive waves battered nearby cliffs.

Hector deployed Vangaurd while Spiegel slammed its giant axe into the monster’s shoulder.

Still, the drowned Worzol monster refused to fall.

Vire watched the entire thing from atop a lighthouse while eating shaved ice.

Vire the Swift: Delicious. Hahaha!

The monster suddenly unleashed a gigantic whirlpool beneath the Stahlritter.

Water spiraled violently around them while alarms blared through every cockpit.

Ray Matthews: It’s pulling us under!

Lena Solis: This thing’s stronger in the water!

Kishi Red steadied himself.

Trace Mercer: It's pushing us around in here! Let's add some weight. Combine formation.

Miles Rowan: Finally!

The Stahlritter separated before rapidly shifting formation above the ocean.

Krieger formed the core.

Hector and Kestrel became the arms.

Speigel and Drakken locked into place.

Brilliant energy erupted skyward.

Voll Stahlritter emerged towering above the ocean itself.

Even Vire stopped eating for a second.

Vire the Swift: Okay that’s still incredibly cool.

The drowned Worzol monster roared before charging again.

Voll Stahlritter met it head-on.

The impact created a tidal wave that crashed across Avalon Bay.

The giant monster swung its anchor weapon repeatedly while Voll Stahlritter blocked with the blue shield arm before countering with massive sword strikes.

Entire columns of seawater exploded into the sky around them.

Ashlyn Westbrook: It has the advantage in the water!

Ray Matthews: Then we remove it from the water!

Voll Stahlritter grabbed the monster directly by the throat before boosting upward with massive energy thrusters.

The giant mecha carried the roaring drowned Worzol monster high above the bay. Voll Stahlritter threw the creature into the rocks and prepared its final attack. Kishi Red raised the giant sword.

All Five: GRAND CROSS!

Golden energy erupted outward forming a massive cross-shaped blast.

The attack came down like divine judgment.

The drowned knight screamed as the Grand Cross attack cleaved directly through its body in an explosion visible across the coastline.

The ocean itself split apart beneath the impact.

Then silence returned.

The sea calmed.

Voll Stahlritter stood waist-deep in the water beneath the setting sun while burning fragments of dark energy dissolved into the waves.

Vire the Swift: Which one of us Generals is going to get our hands dirty first I wonder.

Inside the cockpit, everyone finally relaxed.

Miles groaned loudly.

Miles Rowar: I can’t believe we had to save the beach. We can never truly relax, can we?

Kishi Yellow laughed softly.

Lena Solis: Yeah. It doesn't seem like it.

Trace looked toward Ashlyn quietly.

Trace Mercer: I understand the need to relax, especially after days like this. This beach concept is not entirely without merit.

Ashlyn smirked.

As the sunset, the team continued their beach vacation. They set up a volleyball net and taught Trace how to play. He teamed with the two ladies, while Ray and Miles worked as a team...somehow. The competition really picked up as Ray and Trace battled back and forth. Lena thought about teasing Trace more.

Lena Solis: I know you're on my team, but I think that's just so you don't have to look back see us in our-

It was at that moment, Lena's top snapped and fell off. She grabbed at it in a panic.

Miles was dumbfounded, and didn't notice as the ball was spiked directly into his face.

Miles Rowan: GAH!

Everyone burst out laughing while the sun disappeared slowly beyond the horizon of Avalon Bay.

To Be Continued...

Last edited by Machismo (5/15/2026 2:52 am)

Machismo · 5/16/2026 2:13 am

Episode 13: The Grail

The storm over Avalon City intensified with every passing hour until it no longer felt like ordinary weather. Clouds churned overhead in unnatural spirals while lightning crawled through the sky in jagged red streaks instead of white. Wind battered the upper levels of skyscrapers hard enough to shake windows throughout the downtown district, and even from beneath the streets inside the hidden command center below Knight Express Delivery, the Kishirangers could hear the distant growl of thunder echoing through the earth itself. The atmosphere carried pressure unlike anything they had felt before, a suffocating heaviness that settled over every room and every conversation. It was the feeling of history approaching a breaking point.

The command center lights dimmed slightly as Lena Solis adjusted another cluster of holographic projections over the central table. Ancient runes rotated slowly through the air while translated Zauberer text scrolled down the surrounding monitors in glowing streams of gold and blue. Beside the projections floated two enlarged weapon schematics.

Oathrender.

Gravebrand.

The swords hovered opposite one another like mirrored reflections, one blazing crimson and gold while the other pulsed with blackened violet energy.

Lena rubbed tiredly at one eye before looking toward the others.

Lena Solis: I checked the translations again. Then I checked them against the notes from the cathedral ruins that Ray grabbed, and then I checked those against the Zauberer texts the Magnus Foundation afforded us./b]

Miles Rowan slowly looked up from the couch.

Miles Rowan: That sentence somehow became more concerning every time you added another noun.

Lena Solis: Beep beep, Miles.

Miles Rowan: Eh?

Lena Solis: Focus.

Miles Rowan: I am focused. I’m focused on how every week our lives become more like the setup to an apocalypse cult documentary.

Ray Matthews leaned against the far console with folded arms while watching the projections carefully.

Ray Matthews: Lena. Just tell us directly.

She exhaled slowly.

Lena Solis: The Grail’s containment system isn’t just magical. It’s dimensional. The seal responds specifically to resonance between Oathrender and Gravebrand. The two swords form a paired lock-and-key system.

Ashlyn Westbrook folded her arms tightly across her chest.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Meaning if the swords cross inside the chamber...

Lena Solis: The dimensional seal weakens enough for the Grail to be accessed.

Silence settled heavily over the room.

Even Miles stopped joking.

Trace Mercer stood near the center platform with Oathrender resting against his shoulder while the crimson glow from the blade reflected faintly across his face. The old knight had remained unusually quiet throughout the entire briefing, though Ashlyn had noticed him staring at the projection of Gravebrand more than once.

The black sword.

Mordred’s sword.

The weapon that destroyed his era.

Her weapon.

Ray finally broke the silence.

Ray Matthews: So Vantrex was fighting a war to merge dimensions, and the Grail would make that a certainty.

Trace Mercer: Yes.

The single word carried immense weight.

Trace stepped slowly toward the holographic display.

Trace Mercer: The chamber your speaking about, was probably the throne room, a ceremony was held there before the fall of Avalon. My master and the surviving knights must've sealed it away using Oathrender and Gravebrand together.

Ashlyn looked toward him.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Which means the original Kishi Black helped create the seal before he betrayed everyone.

Trace’s expression darkened instantly.

Trace Mercer: Yes.

The room became quiet again.

Miles finally sat upright.

Miles Rowan: Okay. Hold on. Something about that still doesn’t make sense to me. If Mordred already helped seal the Grail away, why betray Avalon afterward?

Trace lowered his eyes briefly.

Trace Mercer: Because the darkness within Gravebrand did not corrupt him all at once.

Lena looked toward Trace carefully.

Lena Solis: You think the sword changed him gradually.

Trace Mercer: I know it did.

The answer came immediately.

Confidently.

Painfully.

Trace looked toward Gravebrand’s projection with visible disgust.

Trace Mercer: Mordred was once one of the noblest men I had ever known. Loyal. Brave. Devoted to protecting Avalon and my master. There was a time I trusted him with my life.

Ashlyn watched Trace carefully now.

The way his hand tightened around Oathrender.

The way his shoulders stiffened.

The knight rarely allowed himself to speak emotionally about the past, which meant every word he said now carried tremendous weight.

Trace Mercer: But Gravebrand has to be conquered or it conquers you. It fed upon doubt. Fear. Resentment. It whispered constantly. Mordred began questioning the crown. Questioning the war. Questioning whether humanity deserved salvation at all.

Miles swallowed quietly.

Miles Rowan: And eventually he snapped.

Trace nodded once.

Trace Mercer: By the time we understood what was happening, it was already too late.

Ashlyn stepped slightly closer to him without thinking.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace...

He continued before she could finish.

Trace Mercer: He murdered my master with Gravebrand. Then he attempted to claim the Grail and open the dimensional threshold fully so Vantrex’s forces could flood Avalon.

Ray’s expression tightened.

Ray Matthews: And you stopped him.

Trace’s eyes lowered.

Trace Mercer: I found my way to Oathrender first, and then fought off Vantrex. Then Mordred later tried to make a move against me....and I killed him.

The room fell completely silent.

No jokes.

No interruptions.

Only the hum of holographic machinery and distant thunder overhead.

Ashlyn looked stricken.

She understood now why Trace feared her doubts, and tried to encourage her that she wasn't cursed. She needed to be confident. She needed to be in control. She now knew why every time Gravebrand appeared, some part of him seemed to recoil instinctively. Why he constantly restrained himself in battle even when it endangered him.

Because he had already lived through watching one knight fall to darkness.

And maybe part of him believed he might someday do the same regarding Oathrender.

Miles finally cleared his throat awkwardly.

Miles Rowan: Well. On the positive side, Ashlyn...you seem significantly less murdery than the last guy.

Lena smacked his shoulder.

Lena Solis: Miles.

Miles Rowan: I’m trying to emotionally support them in my own way.

To everyone’s surprise, Trace actually gave the faintest hint of a smile.

Trace Mercer: Your methods remain confusing. Yet appreciated.

Miles pointed proudly at himself.

Miles Rowan: Team morale specialist.

Ray finally pushed himself away from the wall.

Ray Matthews: Regardless of what happened in the past, Vantrex knows how to open the seal now.

Lena enlarged another projection showing the underground chamber beneath Avalon Cathedral.

Ancient symbols spiraled across the display.

Lena Solis: These schematics given to us by Dorian Vale and Magnus show where the throne room would be today. A part of me thinks we'd be better off just keeping the Grail where it is, but maybe if we do get it, we can place it somewhere Vantrex can never reach, even IF he got the swords. This might be really dangerous though.

Miles Rowan: “Might” is not my favorite tactical word.

Ashlyn Westbrook: We don’t really have another option.

Trace looked toward all of them.

Trace Mercer: Then tonight we claim the Grail.

Ray Matthews looked down at a picture in his hand. The picture of him as a young boy with Father Lughbow. He had tried to separate from him and Der Gralsbund as he grew up, but he wasn't a disloyal person. That made all of this more difficult, especially when the warnings about the Grail were actually coming true, and he had no one to discuss his fears with.

One hour later, the team stood outside the castle ruins beneath the raging storm.

Rain hammered the mountainside while wind tore through the shattered remains of the ancient structure. Massive stone towers loomed against the lightning-filled sky like the bones of some long dead civilization, and every flash of thunder illuminated broken stained glass windows and collapsed archways in harsh bursts of white.

Ashlyn stared upward at the cathedral.

Ashlyn Westbrook: This place has certainly seen better days.

Miles Rowan: Yeah, about fifteen hundred years ago. I'm sure this heavy wind won't bring the whole place down on us though.

Lena Solis: Encouraging.

Miles adjusted his soaked jacket miserably.

Ray moved toward the entrance while checking his scanner.

Ray Matthews: We're getting serious activity that's already spiking underground. The closer we get, the more it's reacting off the two swords.

Trace stepped forward immediately.

Trace Mercer: Vantrex could be close. We need to hurry.

The team entered through the shattered sanctuary doors and descended deeper beneath the old castle.

The atmosphere changed immediately underground.

The storm sounds faded into distant echoes while ancient stone corridors stretched endlessly beneath flickering torchlight. Water dripped steadily from the ceiling while old knight statues lined the walls like silent guardians forgotten by history.

Ashlyn remained close beside Trace throughout the descent.

Not intentionally.

At least that was what she kept telling herself.

The truth was simpler.

Whenever she stood beside him, things felt steadier somehow.

Safer.

Even here.

Especially here.

The others eventually moved ahead while investigating old Zauberer markings near the lower chamber entrance, leaving Trace and Ashlyn momentarily alone beneath a massive broken archway overlooking the depths below.

For several seconds neither spoke.

Rainwater dripped faintly through cracks in the ceiling overhead while distant thunder rumbled somewhere beyond the stone.

Ashlyn finally looked toward him quietly.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You’ve been retreating into your own head again.

Trace glanced sideways.

Trace Mercer: Have I?

Ashlyn Westbrook: Yes. Which means something’s bothering you.

Trace looked away briefly.

Ashlyn stepped closer.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace.

The way she said his name affected him more than he wanted to admit.

He exhaled slowly.

Trace Mercer: This place reminds me too much of Avalon before the fall. This was my life. I swore an oath of loyalty to my King and my Kingdom...in this very place. It was a great place, full of brave heroes. However...it was other things too.

Ashlyn listened quietly.

Trace Mercer: Great halls. Ancient relics. Knights believing themselves capable of controlling powers beyond human understanding. Every disaster begins with men convincing themselves they are wise enough to wield something they were never meant to touch.

Ashlyn crossed her arms.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You’re talking about the Grail.

Trace Mercer: Yes.

Trace looked toward the darkness ahead.

Trace Mercer: I fear what it does to people. Even before Mordred fell, I'd seen power corrupt, and this might be the ultimate power.

Ashlyn softened slightly.

Ashlyn Westbrook: But we’re not them.

Trace looked toward her.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You’re not like Mordred either.

The words hit him harder than she realized.

Trace lowered his eyes briefly.

Trace Mercer: Sometimes I wonder.

Ashlyn stepped directly in front of him now.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Don’t.

Trace blinked.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You’re not him. You never were. You held your oath. This power corrupted him, but yours never corrupted you, and you have kept me on the right track as well. The black knight has no intention of betraying you. Not this time.

The certainty in her voice stunned him.

Ashlyn’s expression softened further.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace...every time things go bad, your first instinct is protecting everyone else. Mordred betrayed people. You sacrifice yourself for them. Those are not the same thing.

Trace stared at her silently.

The torchlight reflected in her eyes while strands of damp black hair framed her face.

And suddenly—

The memory of the masquerade returned again.

The dance.

The music.

The almost kiss.

Ashlyn looked away briefly before laughing nervously under her breath.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You know...ever since the dance, things have felt weird between us.

Trace’s heartbeat quickened instantly.

Trace Mercer: Weird?

Ashlyn Westbrook: You know what I mean.

He absolutely did.

Which somehow made responding harder.

Ashlyn stepped slightly closer.

Ashlyn Westbrook: We keep almost saying things.

Trace swallowed quietly.

The knight who could face monsters without hesitation suddenly looked entirely uncertain.

Trace Mercer: In my era...emotional attachments often became vulnerabilities enemies exploited.

Ashlyn smiled faintly.

Ashlyn Westbrook: I'm not a damsel. I'm sure your era had plenty of them, but I'm not one. I'm a Kishiranger.

To her surprise, Trace actually smiled slightly back.

Small.

Soft.

Real.

Trace Mercer: My master once told me that devotion was both a knight’s greatest strength and greatest weakness.

Ashlyn Westbrook: And what do you think?

Trace hesitated.

Then finally answered honestly.

Trace Mercer: I think this century stopped feeling lonely once you became part of it.

Ashlyn’s breath caught instantly.

Trace looked directly into her eyes now.

Trace Mercer: When I first awakened in this era, I believed everything familiar to me had vanished forever. Yet somehow...every moment beside you has made this world feel survivable.

Ashlyn’s face turned red immediately.

She laughed softly out of sheer nervousness.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace...that was dangerously smooth.

Trace blinked once.

Trace Mercer: I do not know what “smooth” means in this context.

Ashlyn stepped even closer.

Close enough to feel his breath.

Ashlyn Westbrook: I think maybe I’m tired of almost saying things too.

Trace stared at her silently.

Then slowly—

Very slowly—

Raised one hand toward her face.

The chamber exploded.

Dark energy tore through the lower chamber entrance violently enough to shake the entire structure. Stone shattered outward while black flames erupted across the walls.

Miles yelled somewhere nearby.

Miles Rowan: Evil has such awful timing!

Ashlyn immediately spun toward the chamber entrance looking furious.

Trace’s hand froze mid-motion.

And from the darkness beyond...

Vantrex himself emerged.

Vantrex did not hurry as he entered the lower chamber. He walked through the shattered remains of the archway as if the cathedral belonged to him already, his own dark sword hanging loosely from one hand while black flames crawled along the blade’s edge. Rainwater poured through the broken ceiling far above and struck the stone around him in thin streams, turning instantly to steam wherever the dark energy touched it. The air around him twisted with heat and cold at once, making the shadows bend unnaturally toward his armored frame.

Trace stepped in front of Ashlyn before she could stop him.

Ashlyn noticed immediately.

She also noticed the way Vantrex’s gaze moved from Oathrender to Gravebrand and then toward the deeper chamber beyond them, where the Grail’s containment seal began to pulse in distant gold and red light.

Behind Vantrex, the three Generals appeared one by one.

Garrakis emerged first, huge and silent, stone-and-bone armor scraping against the edges of the broken corridor as he forced his way through. His presence changed the weight of the room, making the ancient floor groan beneath his steps. Vire the Swift appeared next, crouched casually atop the remains of a shattered pillar with one elbow resting on his knee, violet-streaked hair falling near his sharp grin while his daggers spun in lazy circles around his fingers. Malvora arrived last, stepping from a ring of purple Zauberer fire, her long black hair flowing around her shoulders while her staff traced a slow circle in the air. The runic symbol at its head glowed, and Lena visibly stiffened at the sight of it.

Vire the Swift: Aww. Look at this. We interrupted the big emotional moment. That’s tragic.

Miles Rowan: I’m going to throw you into a bell tower one day.

Vire the Swift: Promise?

Ashlyn Westbrook: Miles, get in line.

Trace did not look back at them. His focus remained completely locked on Vantrex.

Trace Mercer: You were waiting for us to open the way?

Vantrex slowly lifted his sword until it pointed toward Oathrender and Gravebrand.

Vantrex: I knew if I kept poking and prodding the boy knight would eventually play fetch like the dog he is.

Trace Mercer: The Grail will not serve you.

Vantrex: The Grail serves no one. It yields to those strong enough to command it. It will yield to me.

Malvora smiled faintly as she drifted closer to Lena’s side of the battlefield, though she remained far enough away that the team could not strike without exposing their formation.

Malvora: The Church sealed what it feared, the Zauberer shaped what they understood, Magnus studied what he could never truly possess, and Avalon died trying to pretend oaths were stronger than ambition. How poetic that the last gate should open because the Burning Oath and the Shadow Blade have finally returned to the same room.

Lena’s grip tightened around her Oathlink.

Lena Solis: You talk a lot for someone who keeps losing.

Malvora’s eyes slid toward her.

Malvora: I have lost battles. I have not lost history.

Ray stood slightly behind the others, expression unreadable, but his heart had begun pounding. The containment relic beneath his jacket was awake now. He could feel it without touching it. The tiny silver object pulsed against his ribs in time with the Grail’s containment seal, responding to the ancient chamber the way a key might respond to a lock. He had known this moment was coming since Father Lughbow had first confirmed the Grail’s existence, but knowing did not make the choice easier. It made it worse.

Trace raised Oathrender with both hands.

Trace Mercer: Kishiranger. Prepare yourselves.

Ray Matthews: Vantrex wants that Grail. If Oathrender and Gravebrand collide too close to the seal, we may not be able to stop the opening once it begins.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Then we keep him away from the altar.

Vantrex laughed once, low and humorless.

Vantrex: The chamber has recognized the blades. The Grail has already begun listening.

The floor beneath them flashed gold.

Every carved line in the lower cathedral ignited at once, and the distant containment chamber roared like an enormous engine coming awake after centuries of silence. Wind rushed through the corridor, pulling dust, rain, and loose fragments of stone toward the glowing chamber beyond.

Trace moved first.

He crossed the broken floor in a burst of red light, Oathrender swinging toward Vantrex’s sword arm before it could rise fully. Vantrex blocked with casual brutality, and the two blades met. Ashlyn was up next, but Vantrex forced up Oathrender, so both swords would collide.

A shockwave of red, black, and gold energy tore through the corridor, throwing Miles and Lena backward several steps while Ray barely managed to brace against a cracked pillar. Ashlyn shielded her face as symbols along the walls flared brighter and the seal chamber beyond them erupted with blinding light.

Lena Solis: The resonance spiked!

Ray Matthews: Because the swords crossed!

Miles Rowan: Great! Fantastic! It's happening!

Trace and Vantrex clashed again.

This time the shockwave blasted the entire team into the Grail chamber.

They landed hard across the ancient floor as the the seal broke before them. The space beyond the corridor opened into an enormous circular sanctuary buried beneath the mountain, far larger than the ruins above suggested. Its walls rose into darkness, lined with colossal statues of armored knights, robed Zauberer, and hooded church figures standing in uneasy symmetry. At the center floated the Grail above a stone altar shaped like a blooming crown. Rings of red and black energy circled it while golden light poured upward through the center like a pillar reaching toward unseen heavens.

The Grail itself was smaller than Miles expected.

It was an ornate chalice of silver and gold, covered in tiny inscriptions too ancient to read at a distance. A luminous crystal rested inside the cup, flickering with colors that did not seem to belong to normal light. Around the altar, dimensional tears flashed in and out of existence, each one revealing brief glimpses of impossible places: the Worzol Dimension’s black castles, cathedral vaults under Avalon, a sunlit kingdom that no longer existed, and something else beyond all of them that looked like a vast space of unimaginable sights.

Vantrex stepped into the chamber after them.

Vantrex: At last.

Trace rose immediately, putting himself between Vantrex and the altar.

Trace Mercer: You will go no farther.

Vire appeared beside Miles in a blur and tapped one dagger against the green hero’s shoulder.

Vire the Swift: I disagree.

Miles yelped and threw himself aside just before Vire’s second dagger slashed through the space where his neck had been.

Miles Rowan: Personal space! Personal space!

Garrakis charged Ray and Lena, and the stone floor shattered beneath his first step. Ray raised his Oathbuckler instinctively while Lena pulled Aymr into her grip. Ashlyn moved toward Malvora, who smiled like she had been waiting for exactly that decision.

Malvora: Still trying to prove the darkness belongs to you?

Ashlyn Westbrook: It doesn’t belong to you.

Trace drew in a breath and raised his Oathbuckler.

Trace Mercer: Oath forged.

Ray Matthews: Knowledge guarded.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Courage sworn.

Miles Rowan: Wild heart awakened.

Lena Solis: Truth shone.

All Five: Kishiranger, arise!

Red, black, blue, green, and yellow light exploded through the chamber. Armor formed around them in clean brilliant lines, gold trim flashing as their capes snapped behind them in the unnatural wind. The five Kishirangers landed in formation between the Generals and the Grail.

Miles Rowan: We've got this.

Trace Mercer: Don't underestimate any of them! They're more powerful than any foe you've fought so far.

Miles Rowan: How bad is this situation?

Trace Mercer: ...Bad.

Miles Rowan: Oh great.

Then the Generals moved.

Garrakis hit first. He slammed into Kishi Blue like a collapsing mountain, driving him backward before Ray could fully set his shield. The blue barrier flared across his arm, but Garrakis punched through the outer layer with raw force and sent Ray skidding across the floor into a statue’s base. Kishi Yellow leapt over Ray with Aymr raised, bringing the axe down toward Garrakis’s shoulder, but the huge general caught the weapon with one hand and pulled her forward.

Lena Solis: Oh, come on!

Garrakis drove his head into her chest armor and hurled her sideways into Ray before either could recover.

Across the chamber, Vire toyed with Kishi Green. Miles moved fast, faster than he had before, but Vire existed at an entirely different level. Every time Miles lunged, Vire was already gone. Every time Gungnir sparked toward an opening, Vire’s dagger tapped the haft aside with insulting ease.

Miles Rowan: Stop being faster than my self-esteem can handle!

Vire the Swift: You’re improving. That makes this much more entertaining. I'm almost having to try.

Vire vanished and reappeared behind him, kicking Kishi Green into the air before slicing a dark-energy blade across his back. Miles crashed into the floor, rolled, and barely raised his spear in time to block the next strike.

At the far side, Kishi Black fought Malvora within a storm of purple sigils. Ashlyn’s movements were precise and controlled, every strike aimed to break spell patterns that flashed in front of her. Gravebrand, burned with black energy edged in crimson, but Malvora blocked every attack.

Malvora: You have learned to cut through power, but you're not ready for true darkness, little shadow. Not yet.

A ring of magic snapped around Ashlyn’s arm, pulling her off balance. She severed it with Gravebrand, but three more formed around her legs and shoulders. Malvora raised her staff, and the same circular sigil Lena had seen in the Zauberer book formed beneath Ashlyn’s feet.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Not this time.

Ashlyn plunged Gravebrand into the sigil and shattered it, but Malvora was already behind her. A blast of purple force struck Kishi Black between the shoulders and sent her crashing across the floor.

Kishi Red and Vantrex dueled closest to the Grail. Oathrender and the Worzol sword collided again and again, and each impact made the containment rings rotate faster. Trace fought with all the discipline of the Burning Oath, his swordwork sharp and clean, but Vantrex was relentless. He did not fight like a duelist. He fought like a conqueror breaking a gate. Every strike was designed to drive Trace backward toward the altar.

Trace Mercer: You believe you're going to strike me down and take the Grail?

Vantrex: Yes.

Vantrex’s answer was calm.

That made it more terrifying.

He slammed his sword into Oathrender with both hands, and the shockwave tore a dimensional wound open above the altar. For a moment, the Worzol Dimension loomed overhead, black towers beneath a red sky, and Ashlyn saw countless distant shapes moving through that world toward the tear.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace!

Trace heard her, turned for half a heartbeat, and Vantrex punished the distraction. The Worzol blade carved across Kishi Red’s chest armor and sent him crashing into the altar steps.

The Grail flared.

The chamber shook hard enough to crack every statue along the outer wall.

Ray struggled upright and saw the containment rings destabilizing. His scanner was gone, shattered somewhere across the chamber, but he did not need it now. The relic under his armor pulsed with urgency. Der Gralsbund had trained him for this exact kind of crisis, this very moment. He never believed it would happen, let alone as a member of a team like this, but it was happening. The impossible was possibly, and every instinct drilled into him as a child screamed that the mission had reached critical priority.

But Trace was on the ground.

Lena was trying to stand while Garrakis advanced on her.

Miles was bleeding energy from a crack in his shoulder armor.

Ashlyn was trapped between Malvora’s spells.

These were not assets.

Not variables.

They were his team.

Ray forced himself up and charged Garrakis again.

Ray Matthews: Lena, left side!

Lena Solis: Already moving!

Ray slammed his shield into Garrakis’s knee while Lena swung Aymr into the general’s side. The combined strike finally forced Garrakis to shift his stance. It did not hurt him much, but it broke his advance long enough for Ray to throw a barrier over Miles as Vire’s dagger came down.

Miles rolled backward under the blue shield and gasped.

Miles Rowan: Thanks! Hate that we needed that!

Ray Matthews: Regroup now!

The five Kishirangers fought their way toward the center, battered but determined. Ashlyn broke away from Malvora by slicing through a cascade of spells and rolling beneath Vire’s sudden attack. Trace rose from the altar steps and rejoined them with Oathrender blazing. For one brief moment, they were together again, five colors standing against the darkness.

Trace lifted his sword.

Kishi Red: Final Vow formation!

Their Oathlinks ignited.

Red at the center.

Black and blue stabilizing.

Green and yellow driving the outer flow.

The pattern formed around them, brighter than it had ever been, and the fivefold crest flashed beneath their feet. The Generals advanced, but the light pushed them back for a moment. Even Vantrex paused.

Miles grinned through the pain.

Miles Rowan: Yes! Finally! Let's blast them with the power of friendship!

Lena’s voice strained.

Lena Solis: Please don't call it that!

The Final Vow began gathering power.

Then the Grail pulsed.

A golden shockwave erupted from the altar, passing through the team’s formation and turning every Oathlink flare unstable. The fivefold crest flickered. Trace’s red energy surged violently, twisting with black threads for one terrible second.

Ray saw it.

So did Malvora.

So did Vantrex.

Vantrex’s voice lowered.

Vantrex: Steady, my Generals.

Trace staggered.

Ashlyn grabbed his arm.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace?

He shook his head once, trying to force the surge back down.

Trace Mercer: I am fine.

Vantrex: Do not lie to your team, little boy. Did you think you could carry a curse...without becoming a curse yourself? I have waited to see its effect on you, and now we'll know.

The curse inside him had reacted to the Grail.

The Final Vow collapsed before it could fire.

Vire laughed delightedly.

Vire the Swift: Oh, that was beautiful. You almost had a heroic moment.

He struck immediately, cutting through Miles’s guard and sending Kishi Green tumbling across the floor. Garrakis smashed through Ray’s shield and grabbed Kishi Blue by the throat, slamming him into the ground once, twice, then hurling him into the base of a statue with enough force to break stone. Malvora lifted Lena in bands of purple magic, binding her arms and legs while the Zauberer sigil beneath her feet glowed with hostile precision.

Lena Solis: Let me go!

Malvora: You still do not understand what you are.

Ashlyn charged Malvora, but Vantrex intercepted her without even looking, catching Gravebrand against his armored gauntlet and striking her down with a backhanded blow of dark energy. She hit the floor hard, her helmet cracking along one edge.

Trace saw it.

Ashlyn tried to rise.

Malvora tightened the spell around Lena.

Garrakis raised one fist over Ray.

Vire placed a dagger at Miles’s throat.

Everything slowed.

Trace’s breathing became loud inside his helmet.

The Grail pulsed again.

This time the pulse reached deep into him.

Red-black lines appeared across Kishi Red’s armor.

Ashlyn saw them immediately.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace!

He did not answer. His hands shook around Oathrender.

Vantrex watched with satisfaction.

Vantrex: What will you become?

Trace looked around the chamber.

Ray barely conscious beneath broken stone.

Miles pinned and bleeding.

Lena trapped in Malvora’s magic.

Ashlyn forcing herself to rise despite pain.

His team.

His friends.

The people who had given him a place in this impossible century.

The curse awakened fully.

Red-black fire erupted from Kishi Red’s armor and blasted every enemy backward. The pressure shattered Malvora’s bindings around Lena, knocked Vire away from Miles, and forced Garrakis to brace with both arms. Oathrender changed in Trace’s grip, its crimson flame becoming jagged and dark, the blade longer and crueler, as if the weapon itself had been dragged through a nightmare.

The chamber went silent except for the roar of the Grail and the crackle of curse-fire.

Kishi Red stood slowly.

His armor had changed.

Jagged black markings spread across the red plates like cracks in burning glass. The gold trim sharpened into thorn-like edges. His visor glowed with violent crimson light, and a dark mantle of energy billowed from his shoulders like a torn cape.

Trace Mercer: Get away from them.

His voice came out distorted.

Ashlyn froze.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace...

Vire, because he had apparently never learned caution as a survival skill, grinned and charged.

Vire the Swift: Finally! Let’s see what the cursed knight can—

Trace vanished.

Vire did not even finish the sentence.

He appeared in front of him and drove a fist into his chest with enough force to launch him across the chamber and through three stone pillars. Before Vire hit the ground, Trace was already there, slamming him downward into the floor so hard the impact cratered the ancient stone.

Garrakis roared and charged next.

Trace turned toward him slowly.

The huge general swung both fists down.

Trace caught one.

The floor beneath them exploded from the pressure, but Trace did not move. He twisted Garrakis’s arm aside, drove Oathrender through the general’s chest armor, and kicked him backward into one of the colossal statues. The statue cracked from base to crown and collapsed behind him in a thunderous avalanche.

Malvora’s face changed from amusement to alarm.

She raised both hands, forming seven layered Zauberer circles in the air.

Malvora: Curse-binding array!

The spell fired.

Trace cut through all seven circles in one swing.

The backlash threw Malvora backward, her boots skidding across the chamber floor as her staff sparked violently.

Vantrex laughed.

It was not joyful.

It was triumphant.

Vantrex: Is this the true power of the Burning Oath?

Trace turned toward him.

The two charged.

Their clash shook the entire cathedral.

Oathrender and the Worzol blade collided in an explosion of red, black, and gold energy that tore several dimensional cracks wide open around the altar. Through those cracks, the Worzol Dimension surged closer. Black towers. Red skies. Endless armies waiting.

Ray struggled to move beneath the fallen debris.

His vision blurred.

But he saw everything.

The Grail responding to Trace.

The dimensional cracks widening.

Ray had something on him, a containment relic that burned like dry ice.

This was the scenario Der Gralsbund had warned about.

Ray’s breathing turned uneven.

He looked toward Trace and saw not a target, not a threat, but his friend losing himself while trying to protect them.

He looked toward the Grail and saw the end of Avalon City if he hesitated.

Lena crawled toward him, still dazed.

Kishi Yellow: Ray...what is that? What are you doing?

Ray did not answer at first.

He reached beneath his damaged armor and pulled out the silver containment relic.

Lena stared at it.

Lena Solis: Ray?

His hand trembled around the relic.

Kishi Blue: I’m sorry.

That was all he could say.

Ray Matthews had imagined this moment so many times in childhood that he hated himself for recognizing it now. Der Gralsbund had trained him with theoretical scenarios drawn on chalkboards beneath cathedral basements, with relic diagrams spread across old wooden tables, with Father Lughbow’s calm voice explaining how hesitation could destroy nations when ancient power awakened beyond containment. The Grail had always been spoken of like a nightmare older than kingdoms, and Ray had been taught that if the relic appeared, no friendship, allegiance, fear, or affection could be allowed to stand between him and containment. Back then, those lessons had sounded noble because they were abstract. Back then, the people who might stand in his way were silhouettes in training manuals. Now they had names, voices, terrible jokes, infuriating habits, and the kind of trust that made betrayal feel like swallowing broken glass.

Lena stared at the silver relic in Ray’s hand as the chamber shook around them. Her own armor flickered from the damage she had taken, but the yellow light inside her visor remained sharp with disbelief. She had known Ray was hiding something. All of them had felt it in different ways over the last several missions, but knowing a friend had secrets was not the same as seeing him draw a mysterious relic in the middle of a battle while Trace lost himself to a curse and the Grail tore the world open above them.

Lena Solis: Ray, answer me! What is that?

Ray pushed himself upright with visible effort. Pieces of shattered stone slid from his shoulders and clattered across the floor while his blue armor sparked at the joints. Across the chamber, Trace and Vantrex collided again, and the impact sent a red-black shockwave screaming over the altar. The Grail responded immediately. Its golden light flared, then warped, the color twisting at the edges as dimensional tears widened overhead. Through them came the sound of the Worzol Dimension, a distant movement of armies waiting behind a thinning wall.

Ray looked at the Grail, then at Trace.

Ray Matthews: It is a containment relic. Der Gralsbund made it for exactly this kind of breach.

Lena’s voice dropped.

Lena Solis: Der Gralsbund? You've know what they are the entire time?!

Ray flinched.

Ray Matthews: Yes.

Lena Solis: And you did not tell us?

Before Lena could say more, Garrakis pulled himself free from the collapsed statue with a grinding roar that shook dust from the ceiling. The wound Trace had carved through his chest armor still burned with red-black flame, but it had not stopped him. It had only made him angrier. The huge general turned toward Ray and Lena, recognizing the relic’s light immediately, and his voice came out like stone breaking under pressure.

Garrakis: Gralsbund.

Ray’s head snapped toward him.

Garrakis stepped forward, dragging broken stone behind him, and raised one massive fist.

Garrakis: Little Priestss hiding behind holy words. Your order sealed what it could not command, stole what it feared, and called cowardice balance.

Ray raised his cracked shield arm, but he was too injured to hold off another charge. Lena forced herself between him and Garrakis with Aymr in both hands, though even she swayed from the effort. Miles tried to rise across the chamber, but Vire recovered faster and kicked him down again with a laugh that sounded strained now, because Trace had wounded him badly enough that even the Swift General could not fully hide it. Ashlyn staggered upright with Gravebrand in hand, one side of her helmet cracked, her attention locked on Trace as he battered Vantrex backward with terrifying force.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace! Listen to me!

Trace did not turn.

He drove Oathrender into Vantrex’s guard with a savage downward strike that cracked the floor beneath both of them. Vantrex blocked, but barely. The dark lord’s armor smoked where the cursed flame touched it, and for the first time since his return, he looked less like an inevitable conqueror and more like something that could bleed.

Vantrex: Yes. That is the power buried in you. That is the curse the Burning Oath was always meant to become.

Trace answered with another brutal strike.

Trace Mercer: ENOUGH!

The word came out distorted, stripped of warmth, discipline, and anything Ashlyn recognized as the man who had caressed her cheek beneath the broken archway. She took one step toward him, but Malvora appeared in front of her, staff lowered, smile gone. The witch’s black hair moved around her face in the violent dimensional wind, and for once she was not teasing.

Malvora: Do not interrupt.

Ashlyn’s grip tightened around Gravebrand.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Move.

Malvora: You think love is enough to stop this? This could kill us all.

Ashly Westbrook: I said move.

Ashlyn attacked with a speed that forced Malvora to respond rather than lecture. Gravebrand carved through two spell circles before they finished forming, and Ashlyn drove forward with all the fear and fury she had held back since Trace transformed. Malvora blocked with her staff, purple sparks bursting against the black blade, and the two women clashed across the edge of the altar while the Grail’s light strobed around them. Ashlyn fought harder than before, not because she believed she could overpower Malvora, but because every second the witch delayed her was another second Trace drifted farther away from himself.

At the same time, Ray made his decision.

He lifted the containment relic.

Silver light exploded from it in thin, precise lines, forming a circle beneath his feet. Ancient church script ignited across the floor and climbed upward like chains made of prayer. The Grail reacted immediately, pulsing so brightly that every combatant in the chamber turned toward it.

Vantrex saw the relic.

His rage eclipsed even his satisfaction.

Vantrex: NO!

He abandoned Trace and lunged toward Ray, but that proved to be a mistake. The berserker Trace slammed into him from the side with impossible speed, driving Oathrender through Vantrex’s shoulder armor and smashing him into the altar steps. The collision fractured more of the dimensional seal, but it also bought Ray one precious opening.

Silver chains erupted from the relic and shot toward the Grail.

They wrapped around the chalice in spiraling bands of holy light, locking around its stem, rim, and the crystal blazing inside it. The Grail resisted. Golden energy surged outward in waves that hammered Ray’s body, making his armor spark and crack, but he held the relic with both hands and forced the containment field tighter.

Ray Matthews: By covenant sealed, by relic bound, by oath concealed from crown and abyss...contain.

The words sounded like a prayer and a command at once.

Lena stared at him in horror. She could see something no one else could, except for Malvora no doubt. Part of Trace's unreal power, was an invisible tether between them. She suddenly got a bad feeling.

Lena Solis: Ray, stop! If you lock onto it while Trace is still connected—

Ray Matthews: I know!

His voice cracked.

The honesty in it froze her.

Ray knew exactly what he was doing.

The containment chains reached from the Grail. One silver strand snapped toward Oathrender. Another, brighter and harsher than the first, lashed around Trace’s berserker form.

Trace roared.

Ashlyn shoved Malvora back with a two-handed slash and turned just in time to see the silver chain wrap around Trace’s chest. Her heart seemed to stop.

Ashlyn Westbrook: RAY, DON’T!

Ray looked toward her, and in that instant Ashlyn could see everything he had been hiding. The training. The guilt. The orders. The impossible belief that he could betray them now and somehow save them later. It did not make her forgive him. It did not soften the rage in her chest. But it told her this was not cruelty.

That almost made it worse.

Trace struggled against the chain, curse-fire surging across his armor. The silver light burned through the red-black aura, forcing the berserker markings to flicker violently. He turned toward Ray, and for half a second, through the distorted glow of his visor, Ray saw the real Trace beneath the curse.

Confused.

Hurt.

Trying to understand.

Ray’s expression broke.

Ray Matthews: I’m sorry, Trace.

He activated the relic’s second seal.

Holy containment energy detonated across the chamber.

Trace screamed as the curse-fire shattered outward, his berserker armor cracking apart in jagged fragments of red and black light. Oathrender flew from his hand and embedded itself in the floor near Ashlyn. The blast knocked Vantrex backward, forced Malvora to shield herself, and sent Vire tumbling across the chamber with a furious curse.

Trace collapsed.

His armor dissolved mid-fall, leaving him unconscious in Ray’s arms.

For one impossible moment, the battle stopped.

Ashlyn stared.

Miles stared.

Lena stared.

The Grail was dragged into the orb like containment relic and suddenly Ray opened a portal behind him, not like Malvora’s purple Zauberer gates or Vantrex’s jagged Worzol tears, but a clean silver doorway lined with church script and old Gralsbund seals. He took off his Oathbuckler and Oathlink and tossed them to the ground, before he picked up the relic and the unconscious Trace.

Ashlyn moved first.

She tore Oathrender from the floor and charged toward Ray with Gravebrand in her other hand, rage and panic driving her past pain.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Give him back!

Ray stepped backward, holding Trace tighter.

Ray Matthews: I can't do that.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You don’t get to say that while running away with him!

Miles forced himself upright, one hand pressed against his injured shoulder.

Miles Rowan: Ray, whatever this is, stop. Just stop and talk to us.

Lena’s voice shook.

Lena Solis: You were supposed to trust us.

Ray looked at her, and that accusation hurt more than Ashlyn’s fury.

Vantrex rose behind them, injured but still terrifying, and his voice thundered across the chamber.

Vantrex: Gralsbund insect. You cannot hide the Grail from me.

Ray turned slightly toward him, eyes hardening.

Ray Matthews: Watch me.

The portal brightened.

Ashlyn lunged again, but Malvora, laughing softly now despite the damage around them, snapped her fingers and threw up a barrier of purple magic between Ashlyn and Ray. Ashlyn struck it with both swords, Oathrender and Gravebrand flaring together, but the barrier held just long enough.

Ray looked through it at her.

His face was pale.

His eyes were wet.

Ray Matthews: Do not follow me.

Ashlyn Westbrook: RAY!

He stepped backward into the portal with Trace and the Grail.

The silver doorway snapped shut.

The barrier shattered an instant later beneath Ashlyn’s next strike, but there was nothing behind it except empty air.

Trace was gone.

Ray was gone.

The Grail was gone.

For several seconds, no one moved.

Ashlyn stood in the middle of the ruined chamber gripping both ancient swords, breathing hard, shaking with a fury so deep it had nowhere to go. Her armor had dissolved from the damage and exhaustion, leaving her standing in torn civilian clothes with rainwater, dust, and blood on her face. Oathrender’s red light flickered weakly in one hand. Gravebrand’s dark edge hummed in the other. The two blades had opened the path to the Grail, and now they had failed to keep Trace from being taken.

Vantrex’s anger rolled through the chamber like heat from a furnace.

Vantrex: This is not over.

Ashlyn turned toward him so sharply that even Vire stopped smiling.

Ashlyn Westbrook: No. It isn’t.

For a moment, the two stared at each other across the shattered altar, but Vantrex did not attack. The Grail was gone, the containment chamber was collapsing, and the dimensional seal had begun repairing itself in unstable pulses. Garrakis placed one massive hand against the floor as the chamber trembled, then looked toward his lord.

Garrakis: The chamber fails.

Malvora’s expression was unreadable, though her eyes lingered on the place where Ray had vanished.

Malvora: Der Gralsbund has become bold.

Vire rolled his injured shoulder and spat to the side.

Vire the Swift: I hate church people.

Vantrex: Those blades look heavy to you.

Ashlyn lifted Gravebrand toward him.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Come take them.

The chamber cracked open beneath them before either could move. Pressure surged violently upward, forcing everyone to brace. Malvora opened a purple gate, and Garrakis dragged Vire toward it when he looked ready to say something stupid. Vantrex backed into the darkness last, his eyes never leaving Ashlyn.

Vantrex: The Grail calls to all who are hollow enough to need it. Your friend has delivered it into a prison. Prisons can be broken.

Then the Worzol Generals vanished.

The cathedral continued collapsing.

Lena grabbed up Ray's Oathlink and Oathbuckler, and stumbled toward Ashlyn while Miles limped after her, and the three remaining Kishirangers barely made it out through the upper passage as the ancient containment chamber sealed itself beneath them in a thunderous implosion. Stone collapsed behind them. Dust erupted through the tunnels. The mountain shook so violently that the broken cathedral towers above finally gave way, crashing into the storm as the team escaped into the rain.

They emerged onto the mountainside battered, soaked, and stunned.

Miles sat down hard against a broken stone wall, clutching his injured shoulder while staring blankly at the storm. Lena stood a few feet away with her arms wrapped around herself, eyes fixed on nothing. Ashlyn remained standing, still holding both swords, rain streaming down her face. She looked less like a survivor than someone whose heart had been ripped out.

Miles finally spoke, his voice smaller than usual.

Miles Rowan: Ray was working for them the whole time.

Lena flinched.

Lena Solis: Don’t say it like that.

Miles Rowan: How else do I say it?

Lena turned toward him, grief and anger colliding in her expression.

Lena Solis: I don’t know! I don’t know, Miles. I just know he came back for us too many times for me to believe none of it was real.

Miles looked away.

He wanted to argue.

He could not.

Ashlyn finally lowered Oathrender slightly.

Ashlyn Westbrook: It was real.

Her voice was rough.

Lena and Miles looked at her.

Ashlyn stared into the storm.

Ashlyn Westbrook: That’s what makes it hurt.

The words settled between them with brutal simplicity.

Miles closed his eyes.

Lena wiped rain from her face, though not all of it was rain.

Ashlyn looked down at Oathrender. The sword felt heavier than it ever had. Trace had trusted Ray. All of them had. And Ray had taken him, carrying him into the hands of a secret order that had spent generations deciding what powers were too dangerous to exist freely. She could still hear Ray’s voice.

If Der Gralsbund sees him like this, they may decide he cannot be saved at all.

Ashlyn’s hands tightened around both hilts.

Ashlyn Westbrook: We need to find Der Gralsbund before they decide anything.

Lena looked up.

Lena Solis: We don’t even know where they went.

Ashlyn turned toward her.

Ashlyn Westbrook: We're going to make the Magnus Foundation tell us. They've been keeping secrets! Drip feeding us knowledge! We don't have time for that right now!

Miles slowly stood, wincing as he moved his shoulder.

Miles Rowan: Okay. Good. Plan phase. I like plan phase. Plan phase beats emotional devastation phase. I-I-I can barely breathe. I need to sit back down. I-

A voice answered from above them.

Unknown Voice: After what you just went through, I'm surprised you can stand at all.

All three spun toward the ruined cathedral wall.

A figure stood atop the broken stone beneath the storm, arms folded with casual confidence that felt wildly inappropriate given the disaster around him. He wore orange-and-black armor with ash-gray accents, sleek and sharp compared to the knightly forms of the Kishirangers. A long scarf snapped behind him in the rain, and a belt glowed at his waist with a faint ember-like light.

Miles blinked.

Miles Rowan: Oh great. Another fight?

The armored figure hopped down from the wall and landed lightly on the wet ground. He looked from Miles to Lena to Ashlyn, then toward the empty space where the cathedral had collapsed.

Unknown Rider: You guys look like you picked a fight and lost.

Ashlyn lifted Gravebrand instantly.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Who are you?

The figure raised both hands slightly, not in surrender exactly, but close enough to avoid getting stabbed immediately.

Unknown Rider: Easy. The name is Asher, but right now...it's Ash. Kamen Rider Ash.

To Be Continued...

Last edited by Machismo (5/16/2026 2:14 am)

Machismo · 5/17/2026 2:01 am

Episode 14: The Road We Take

Morning light filtered softly through gauzy curtains as the city beyond Avalon shimmered in pale gold. Dust drifted lazily through the warm air while the quiet ticking of an old clock echoed somewhere nearby. Trace Mercer stood motionless in the center of a room he recognized immediately despite knowing he had never truly been there before. The walls were decorated with bookshelves, scattered engineering notes, sword diagrams, and framed photographs from school festivals and late-night team outings. A black jacket hung over the back of a chair beside an unplugged curling iron while an old vinyl record spun slowly on a nearby player, filling the room with soft instrumental music.

Ashlyn Westbrook stood near the window with her back partially turned toward him. She wore a thin nightgown that moved gently in the breeze from the cracked window, the morning sun illuminating the outline of her figure through the fabric. Her dark hair spilled loosely over her shoulders, still messy from sleep, and for a moment Trace forgot entirely that anything beyond that room existed. The war, the Grail, the curse, the blood, all of it faded beneath the strange warmth of seeing her there in such fragile normalcy.

She turned slowly, meeting his eyes with a soft smile.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You finally made it.

Trace frowned faintly, confused by how calm he felt.

Trace Mercer: Where are we?

Ashlyn stepped closer. The sunlight caught in her crimson eyes while her fingers lightly brushed against the fabric of his shirt near his chest.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Somewhere peaceful. Somewhere you were supposed to have.

Her voice carried a teasing warmth to it at first, almost playful, and Trace felt his heartbeat stumble as she leaned slightly closer.

Ashlyn Westbrook: I have something very important to tell you.

Trace opened his mouth to respond, but her expression changed instantly. The teasing vanished. The softness cracked apart beneath sudden grief.

Her hands grabbed his arms desperately.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Please come back to me.

The room shattered.

The sound of chains violently rattling exploded through darkness.

Trace Mercer screamed.

The dungeon walls shook beneath the force of his roar as red-black energy burst from his body in violent surges. Thick chains wrapped around his arms, chest, neck, and legs, each engraved with glowing Gralsbund runes that pulsed brighter every time the berserker energy tried to break free. His hair stood wildly upward from the pressure radiating off him while his eyes had become completely white, devoid of any humanity.

His fingernails scraped furrows into the stone floor as he strained against the restraints hard enough to crack the walls.

Ancient runic stakes hammered into the floor surrounding him emitted waves of blue-white containment energy that pressed inward like invisible weights. Every few seconds another pulse discharged from the restraints, forcing Trace violently back against the stone pillar behind him.

Two armored Gralsbund operatives stood beyond the bars of the chamber, visibly tense.

Operative: Ehrvolt levels are surging again.

Another violent explosion of energy erupted from Trace’s body. One of the chains snapped halfway before the runes reignited and forcibly repaired themselves.

Second Operative: Administer more runic holds immediately.

A shadowed figure stood silently near the bars observing everything.

Only the faint outline of glasses and a long blue coat were visible in the darkness.

Trace snarled like a wounded animal as his white eyes locked onto the figure.

Trace Mercer: RAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!

The entire chamber shook again.

The shadowed figure remained still.

One of the operatives swallowed nervously.

Operative: If the restraints fail—

Shadowed Figure: They won’t.

The voice was calm. Controlled. Yet beneath it lingered unmistakable guilt.

The figure continued staring at Trace through the bars as another containment rune ignited across the floor.

Far away from the dungeon, deep beneath Avalon City, silence filled the KED Building command center.

Miles Rowan leaned forward against the holographic table with visible frustration while Lena Solis sat nearby staring blankly at the tactical displays. Ashlyn sat looking down at her hands. Gravebrand rested beside her against the wall while Oathrender sat nearby.

Nobody had touched it.

Nobody wanted to.

The elevator doors slid open.

Dorian Vale entered alongside Asher.

The room immediately fell silent.

Asher no longer wore his Rider suit. He carried himself with a quiet authority beneath a long black and white coat trimmed with silver. The strange belt device at his waist emitted faint pulses of pale light while his silver hair shifted slightly as he stepped into the center of the room.

Dorian folded his hands behind his back.

Dorian Vale: Everyone. Allow me to formally introduce Asher. Acting head of the Magnus Foundation.

Miles blinked.

Miles Rowan: Wow. Acting head? You must be important.

Lena Solis: The Magnus Foundation is centuries old.

Asher: Correct.

He looked toward them calmly.

Asher: And I am acting head, because so am I.

That sentence hung in the room like a physical object.

Ashlyn slowly lifted her eyes toward him.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You’re from the past too.

Asher nodded once.

Asher: Much like Trace Mercer, I survived the Great War through artificial slumber. Though unlike him, my sleep was voluntary.

Miles rubbed his forehead.

Miles Rowan: Every week somebody new crawls out of a crypt and tells us civilization is doomed.

Normally somebody would have laughed.

Nobody did.

Asher’s expression softened slightly as he looked toward the three remaining Kishiranger and sat with them.

Asher: First, I owe all of you an apology. I kept my identity hidden because we believed it was possible Der Gralsbund had infiltrated us. Dorian met with a Professor Halden and suspected as much. If Der Gralsbund discovered I was still alive and active, events may have accelerated before we were ready.

Ashlyn Westbrook: They took him.

The anger in her voice immediately silenced the room.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Ray....he dragged him away like some kind of monster.

Asher lowered his eyes briefly.

Asher: I know.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Then why are you standing here talking instead of helping us get him back?!

Energy briefly flickered around Gravebrand beside her.

Dorian tensed slightly.

Asher remained calm.

Asher: Because charging blindly into danger would ensure Sir Mercer dies.

That answer hit hard enough to stop her.

Asher stepped closer to the holographic display.

Asher: The Church itself is not your enemy. Understand that clearly. For generations the Magnus Foundation worked alongside the Church to contain dangerous relics and protect humanity from collapse. At the end of the day, we believe in the same things.

He tapped the table. Ancient symbols appeared above it.

Asher: But...within the Church exists a sect known as Der Gralsbund. Their purpose began nobly enough. Secure dangerous artifacts. Prevent another catastrophe like the Great War.

The hologram shifted to images of relics sealed beneath vaults.

Asher: Over time that purpose evolved into obsession. They began sealing away anything they deemed too dangerous for mankind. Weapons. Magic. Ancient technology.

Lena’s expression darkened slightly at that.

Lena Solis: Like the Zauberer?

Asher: Yes.

Another image appeared showing the Rune Lenses.

Asher: That includes the Rune Lenses employed by the Magnus Foundation.

Miles frowned.

Miles Rowan: So they think your stuff is dangerous too.

Asher: They think power itself is dangerous.

Ashlyn looked toward Oathrender.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Then what was Trace to them?

Asher went quiet for several seconds.

When he finally answered, his voice carried unmistakable respect.

Asher: To them...and to all of us...Sir Mercer is a hero.

The room fell silent again.

Asher: Years ago my master, Magnus, and I fought beside Sir Mercer during the Great War. Trace saved our lives countless times. Entire battalions survived because of him.

A hologram appeared showing burning battlefields beneath black skies.

Asher: But eventually the Worzol curse became too powerful. So Trace took the burden into himself.

Ashlyn’s fists clenched tighter.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Why didn’t one of you do it instead?

Her voice cracked.

Ashlyn Westbrook: He lost everything. His home. His family. His entire world. He woke up centuries later completely alone and you’re telling me everybody just let him sacrifice himself?!

Asher’s expression tightened with visible guilt.

Asher: We didn’t let him.

He looked directly at her.

Asher: He forced the matter.

Nobody spoke.

Asher: Trace Mercer was many things. Noble. Reckless. Incredibly stubborn.

For the first time, a faint smile crossed Asher’s face.

Asher: Once he made his decision, nobody alive could stop him. I wanted to. He wouldn't let me. Said I was needed to deal with the Wraith. He took it upon himself before anyone could argue any further.

Ashlyn looked away before anyone could see her eyes watering.

Miles finally broke the silence awkwardly.

Miles Rowan: Wait a second. You mentioned Wraiths.

Asher nodded.

Asher: The personal threat faced by the Magnus Foundation.

Miles Rowan: Are those related to the Hanta City incident?

Asher glanced toward him.

Asher: Very much so.

Miles immediately pointed.

Miles Rowan: I knew it!

Lena Solis: Wait...Hanta City?

Miles looked around excitedly despite the situation.

Miles Rowan: Dude, everybody knows about Hanta City. That giant ghost monster? The Kamen Riders? The Geist Tower explosion?

Asher sighed slightly.

Asher: Yes. That was me. Alongside Kamen Rider Soul.

Dorian adjusted his glasses.

Dorian Vale: Speaking of Soul, sir. We have him on the line.

Asher: Oh good. We could definitely use the help.

He pressed a button on the table.

A large monitor flickered on.

Blake Faust immediately appeared sprawled casually across an expensive office chair with his feet kicked up on a desk worth more than most cars.

Blake Faust: Wow. You all look terrible.

The three Kishiranger froze.

Miles Rowan: THAT’S BLAKE FAUST?!

Lena Solis: The CEO of Geist Corporation?!

Ashlyn Westbrook: Kamen Rider Faust?!

Blake grinned.

Blake Faust: In the absurdly handsome flesh.

Asher rubbed his forehead.

Asher: Blake.

Blake Faust: Sorry, sorry. Serious mode.

He immediately sat upright before pointing toward Asher.

Blake Faust: So this Trace guy is another fossil like you?

Ashlyn slammed both hands onto the table.

Ashlyn Westbrook: He was abducted!

Blake physically recoiled backward.

Blake Faust: WHOA. Okay. Yeah. That’s bad. Sorry. Read the room, Blake.

He muttered the last part to himself.

Then his expression finally became serious.

Blake Faust: Listen. I’ll help however I can.

The monitors behind him shifted to blueprints.

Blake Faust: A while back Geist was made aware of material shipments and schematics for machines resembling your Stahlritter units. Originally I assumed they were countermeasures for Metro City. Ultrawoman Talius has been drawing increasingly dangerous enemies lately.

Another schematic appeared.

Blake Faust: But the shipments were financed through a shadow company tied directly to some friends of yours, Asher. Der Gralsbund.

Asher narrowed his eyes.

Asher: Locations?

Blake Faust: Metro City underground transit sector. Heavy security. A seeming private military presence. I noticed it during my last visit to the city.

Dorian’s expression darkened.

Dorian Vale: They’re building something.

Blake Faust: Yeah. Looks that way. Possibly building a lot of somethings. It's been speeding up since those ancient runes started popping up all over Avalon City.

Asher leaned over the tactical table studying the schematics Blake had forwarded. Rotating three-dimensional models hovered above the surface while dozens of highlighted annotations scrolled beside them.

Blake Faust: I’m telling you, these things aren’t standard military hardware. It's not Geist tech either.

The projection zoomed inward.

Mechanical frames resembling skeletal Stahlritter units rotated slowly in the air. Unlike the heroic knight-like designs employed by the Kishiranger, these machines looked more utilitarian.

Ashlyn frowned.

Ashlyn Westbrook: I don't get the feeling they want to help us.

Asher: Der Gralsbund isn’t simply trying to build Stahlritter equivalents. They’re engineering containment weapons specifically designed to suppress Ehrvolt surges.

Lena looked toward the screen uneasily.

Lena Solis: Ehrvolt? I've seen that word in some of the old books. What is that?

Asher: It's a power we draw from within or from outside sources. It's a metric used to gauge strength basically. We've been tracking yours for example. Trace was the strongest at at a 5.0. Ashlyn, you were actually second closest with a 4.2. That's remarkable considering you've only been a Kishiranger for a short time.

Miles Rowan: Wow. Good job, Ashlyn! What's mine?

Asher: We can get into the personal statistics later. However, when Trace went berserk like you said, his Ehrvolt surged to 10.0. That's how I was able to find you. That relic they used, is an ancient version of the technology I'm seeing here. Meant to contain incredible power. To put it simply, it was like Anti-Trace weapon, to contain his immense power.

That realization visibly disturbed everyone.

Miles leaned back slowly.

Miles Rowan: So they already planned for the possibility he’d lose control someday.

Asher nodded grimly.

Asher: Der Gralsbund prepares for worst-case scenarios centuries in advance. I was there that day. They questioned what might happen if Trace woke up one day. They wanted to contain him then and there. I guess even though we won that argument, they kept close.

Ashlyn’s jaw tightened.

Ashlyn Westbrook: None of this gives them the right to chain him up like an animal.

Blake sighed from the monitor.

Blake Faust: Look, for what it’s worth? I agree with you.

He leaned forward slightly.

Blake Faust: But if Trace really is carrying that level of cursed Ehrvolt inside him, then Gralsbund’s probably terrified right now.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Good.

The room fell silent at the coldness in her voice.

Asher studied her carefully before speaking again.

Asher: Anger alone won’t save him.

Ashlyn looked away immediately.

Dorian stepped forward beside the table.

Dorian Vale: Metro City remains our strongest lead. If Der Gralsbund is constructing units there, they likely have a regional operations hub nearby.

Miles rubbed the back of his neck distractedly.

Miles Rowan: Maybe Ray knows something.

That immediately drew everyone’s attention.

Lena blinked.

Lena Solis: You think he'd show his face after what he's done?

Miles hesitated.

Miles Rowan: I don’t know what to think anymore.

Ashlyn stared quietly at the table.

Ashlyn Westbrook: He took Trace.

The pain in her voice hit harder than anger would have.

Miles exhaled heavily.

Miles Rowan: Yeah. But he also saved us more times than I can count.

Nobody had an answer for that.

Several hours later the rain finally began falling across Avalon City.

Miles stood outside Avalon Academy staring toward the massive campus rising beyond the gates. Students moved through the grounds laughing and talking while faculty members hurried between buildings carrying stacks of papers beneath the drizzle.

Everything looked painfully normal.

Miles shoved his hands into his pockets and walked toward the administration building.

The secretary behind the desk barely looked up from her computer.

Secretary: Can I help you?

Miles Rowan: Yeah, uh...I’m looking for Ray Matthews. Has he been spotted on campus by chance? He's not answering his phone. I'm a little worried about him.

Secretary: Student?

Miles Rowan: Yep. Just like me.

The woman typed briefly.

Then frowned.

Secretary: I’m sorry. There’s no student enrolled here by that name.

Miles blinked.

Miles Rowan: What?

Secretary: No Ray Matthews currently attends Avalon Academy.

His stomach dropped slightly.

Miles Rowan: Are you sure? Blue jacket. Glasses. Constantly looks disappointed?

The secretary shook her head politely.

Secretary: I'm not seeing his name in the records.

Miles stared blankly at the desk for several seconds.

The woman finally looked up more carefully at him.

Secretary: Who exactly is Ray Matthews to you?

Miles answered automatically before even thinking about it.

Miles Rowan: He’s my best friend.

The words hurt more than he expected them to.

The secretary’s expression softened slightly.

Secretary: I’m sorry. I really can’t help you.

Miles nodded weakly before turning away.

The rain had intensified by the time he exited the academy gates.

Students hurried past him carrying umbrellas while thunder rolled faintly in the distance. Miles barely noticed any of it as he walked down the stone path outside the campus.

Ray Matthews doesn’t exist.

The sentence repeated itself endlessly in his head.

Not enrolled.

No records.

Nothing.

Like the entire identity had been fabricated.

Miles shoved both hands into his hoodie pockets as frustration and sadness twisted together in his chest.

Then someone slammed into his shoulder.

Miles Rowan: Whoa—

A hooded figure stood directly beside him beneath the rain.

Dark clothing concealed most of the man’s features, though a silver chain glinted faintly beneath the hood. His posture was relaxed, almost casual, despite the eerie stillness surrounding him.

Miles immediately stiffened.

Hooded Man: Careful, Miles Rowan.

Miles’ eyes narrowed.

Miles Rowan: Do I know you?

The hooded man ignored the question.

Hooded Man: The Guild is growing impatient.

Every muscle in Miles’ body tensed instantly.

Miles Rowan: I told you people I’m out.

Hooded Man: Are you?

Rainwater dripped steadily from the edge of the hood.

Hooded Man: We still have clients willing to pay extraordinary amounts for someone with your talents.

Miles looked around sharply to make sure nobody nearby was listening.

Miles Rowan: Keep your voice down.

The hooded man chuckled softly.

Hooded Man: You vanished for months. Then suddenly ancient monsters start leveling portions of Avalon City and your name begins surfacing again.

Miles clenched his fists.

Miles Rowan: I said I’m done.

Hooded Man: Nobody truly leaves the Guild.

The man stepped slightly closer.

Hooded Man: Especially not one of our best infiltrators.

Miles’ expression hardened immediately.

Miles Rowan: I’m not stealing for you anymore.

Hooded Man: Such harsh wording.

The hooded figure tilted his head slightly.

Hooded Man: Retrieval specialist sounds much more professional.

Miles tried to walk past him.

The hooded man spoke again without turning.

Hooded Man: You should also know...certain people have become interested in your current associates.

Miles froze.

Slowly, he turned back around.

Miles Rowan: What does that mean?

The hood obscured the man’s smile.

Hooded Man: It means your friends are valuable now.

Rain hammered harder against the pavement.

Hooded Man: There are many buyers willing to pay fortunes for information.

Miles stepped forward angrily.

Miles Rowan: Stay away from them.

The hooded man only laughed quietly.

Hooded Man: Then perhaps you should return before someone less sentimental takes the assignment.

Before Miles could respond, the man disappeared into the crowd beneath the rain.

Gone almost instantly.

Miles stood motionless outside Avalon Academy while thunder echoed overhead.

His breathing had become uneven.

The Guild.

He had spent years trying to bury that part of his life.

But now Ray was gone.

Trace had been taken.

And suddenly the past was clawing its way back toward him from every direction at once.

For the first time since becoming a Kishiranger, he looked genuinely afraid.

Night swallowed Metro City beneath sheets of cold rain and neon light.

Towering skyscrapers stretched endlessly into the clouds while elevated transit rails thundered overhead like steel serpents crossing the skyline. Massive holographic advertisements flickered across wet streets below, reflecting across puddles and harbor waters in fractured colors of blue, red, and gold. The city never truly slept. Even at this hour thousands of lights still burned within the endless urban labyrinth.

Far beneath the skyline, hidden near the industrial harbor district, three figures crouched silently atop a warehouse roof overlooking a heavily fortified facility.

Ashlyn Westbrook adjusted the black hood over her head while staring toward the compound through a pair of binoculars.

The structure itself looked less like a factory and more like a military cathedral. Black steel walls rose several stories high. Searchlights swept constantly across the harbor while armored guards patrolled elevated walkways carrying rune-augmented rifles.

Massive cargo cranes loomed overhead near the docks where large containers marked with Der Gralsbund insignias were being unloaded into underground freight elevators.

Lena lowered her own binoculars slowly.

Lena Solis: That’s so suspicious. Does no one notice sort of thing in Metro City?

Miles crouched beside an air vent nervously watching the guards below.

Miles Rowan: I heard weird rumors they were dealing with giant aliens. Maybe in that environment you can be a little suspicious and get away with it.

Ashlyn never looked away from the facility.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace might be in there somewhere.

Her voice carried absolute certainty.

Miles exchanged a glance with Lena.

Miles Rowan: Yeah. Maybe Ray is in there too.

The three of them had barely slept since learning about Metro City and Der Gralsbund’s containment project. Once Blake Faust provided shipping routes and Asher identified the facility, Ashlyn refused to wait any longer.

So now they were here.

Three exhausted members of a formerly five person team preparing to infiltrate Der Gralsbund's factory.

Miles Rowan: Security rotation. Look. They are getting ready to swap out, and the cameras are facing away. This is our chance.

Lena blinked.

Lena Solis: Very observant. Especially for you. How do you know how to bypass security all of a sudden?

Miles froze briefly.

Miles Rowan: ...Internet tutorials.

Ashlyn immediately started moving before Lena could question him further.

The three slipped silently across the rooftop before dropping onto a lower maintenance platform overlooking the harbor. Rainwater splashed beneath their boots while the distant sound of foghorns echoed across the docks.

Miles quickly disabled a side security panel.

The reinforced door slid open with a hiss.

Inside, cold fluorescent lighting illuminated enormous underground corridors lined with armored transport rails and mechanical loading systems. Massive cables ran along the ceiling feeding power deeper into the facility.

Ashlyn’s eyes narrowed immediately.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Looks like the stuff they use to launch our Stahlritters.

She pointed toward enormous containment bays built into the walls.

Some were empty.

Others contained partially assembled machines resembling the schematics Blake Faust had shown them earlier.

Unlike the noble knightly silhouettes of the true Stahlritter, these units looked brutally industrial.

Lena looked visibly disturbed.

Lena Solis: They really are building units. Do they intend to help us? Hinder us? Contain us?

Miles stared toward one unfinished mech.

Miles Rowan: Helping us? Even I don't feel that optimistic right now.

Ashlyn Westbrook: They are being made to contain the Worzol threat...and us.

A sudden voice echoed through the corridor.

Professor Halden: Correct.

The three spun instantly.

Professor Halden stood atop a nearby observation platform wearing a long gray academic coat beneath heavy armored plating. His expression remained calm despite the obvious infiltration alarm beginning to flash red around the facility.

Dozens of armored soldiers immediately flooded into the corridor behind him.

Unlike ordinary security forces, these soldiers wore reinforced black armor etched with glowing Gralsbund runes. Blue energy shields extended across their forearms while electrified restraint weapons unfolded from their backs.

Professor Halden adjusted his glasses coldly.

Professor Halden: I expected Sir Mercer’s companions eventually. Though I admit I expected slightly more subtlety.

Ashlyn stepped forward instantly.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Professor Halden? You really do work with them?

Professor Halden: Work WITH them? No. I AM them. Der Gralsbund first, teacher second. I did try to warn you away once upon a time. When you refused to take no for an answer, I had to send Ray Matthews.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Where is Trace?!

Professor Halden’s expression did not change.

Professor Halden: Somewhere safe from himself.

That answer nearly triggered her transformation immediately.

Miles grabbed her arm first.

Miles Rowan: Ashlyn.

Professor Halden folded his hands behind his back.

Professor Halden: Capture them.

The armored soldiers charged.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Courage sworn.

Miles Rowan: Wild heart awakened.

Lena Solis: Truth shone.

All Three: Kishiranger, arise!

Black, green, and yellow light erupted through the corridor.

The remaining three Kishiranger emerged in explosive flashes of energy just as the soldiers opened fire.

Kishi Black immediately intercepted the first volley with Gravebrand, dark sparks exploding outward as she deflected energy rounds into the ceiling.

Kishi Green launched himself forward with shocking speed, vaulting over two soldiers before kicking one directly into another hard enough to shatter their formation.

Kishi Yellow spun low beneath an electrified restraint cable before smashing her elbow into a soldier’s chest plate.

The corridor exploded into chaos.

Unlike the Dreadlings or Worzol monsters they normally fought, these opponents were human.

Ashlyn realized it instantly.

And adjusted immediately.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Nonlethal only!

One armored soldier swung a restraint staff toward her head.

She sidestepped smoothly before striking his chest with the flat of Gravebrand’s blade hard enough to knock him unconscious without piercing the armor.

Miles ducked beneath another soldier’s tackle before sweeping both legs out from under him.

Miles Rowan: Okay, this officially sucks more than monsters! We can't let loose!

A second wave poured into the corridor.

Lena raised both hands.

Lena Solis: Aymr!

Golden energy erupted from her axe, as she used it to disarm Der Gralsbund soliders.

Professor Halden calmly observed everything from above.

Professor Halden: Fascinating. Well done, my students.

Ashlyn looked upward furiously.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Where is he?!

Halden adjusted his glasses again.

Professor Halden: We are preserving him. Containing him. That is what we do.

That sentence nearly made her lose control.

She launched upward toward the observation platform with terrifying speed, but reinforced blast shutters slammed down between them before she could reach him.

Alarms screamed throughout the facility.

Miles looked around urgently.

Miles Rowan: The jig is up! We need to move NOW!

Lena nodded immediately.

Lena Solis: I see an exit! East side!

The three Kishiranger burst through the collapsing security line before sprinting deeper into the harbor complex while armored Gralsbund soldiers pursued them through the rain-soaked corridors.

Outside, thunder exploded overhead as the trio emerged onto the massive industrial docks.

Their Stahlritter waited hidden between cargo containers near the waterfront exactly where they had parked them earlier.

Kishi Black immediately pointed upward.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Drakken!

Dark energy erupted across the harbor.

The massive black Stahlritter descended through the storm clouds like a falling knight while Kestrel and Spiegel followed.

The three Rangers leapt upward simultaneously.

Cockpits sealed around them.

Rain exploded across armored steel as their mechs powered to life.

But before they could escape, massive hangar doors along the facility suddenly opened.

An enormous Gralsbund mechs emerged into the storm.

Unlike the unfinished containment units inside, this machine was fully operational.

Professor Halden’s voice echoed across external speakers.

Professor Halden: Engage containment protocol.

The Gralsbund unit charged.

The harbor exploded into battle.

The suppression cannon fired first.

A massive blue energy blast slammed into Kestrel forcing it skidding backward through stacked shipping containers.

Miles shouted inside the cockpit.

Miles Rowan: OKAY THIS THING HITS WAY TOO HARD!

Kestrel recovered and launched skyward immediately, green thrusters igniting across its wings before diving toward the mech with spear strikes.

The enemy machine intercepted both attacks before slamming Kestrel directly into a cargo crane.

Metal twisted violently.

Ashlyn gritted her teeth.

Ashlyn Westbrook: They made these things specifically to stop us!

Drakken charged forward through the rain.

Gravebrand’s oversized mech-equivalent blade ignited with black-red energy as Ashlyn clashed directly against the chain-blade mech in a shower of sparks.

The enemy machine matched her strength.

Meanwhile Lena maneuvered Spiegel along the flooded docks firing repeated bursts of golden energy at the suppression unit’s joints.

Lena Solis: I think we're made of sterner stuff. Metaphorically and literally.

Miles immediately reacted.

Miles Rowan: Then let’s break it!

Kestrel launched upward again before diving at maximum speed.

The green Stahlritter slammed feet-first into the suppression mech’s shoulder pylons, tearing one free in an explosion of sparks.

The enemy machine staggered.

Spiegel immediately followed.

The yellow Stahlritter charged through the rain with axe raised before smashing directly into the mech’s torso hard enough to drive it backward into the harbor.

Water erupted skyward.

Every strike from Drakken sent shockwaves through the dockyard.

The enemy mech wrapped electrified chains around Drakken’s arm before attempting to lock the unit in place.

Ashlyn’s eyes narrowed.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Wrong move.

Drakken’s chest core ignited.

Black-red energy exploded outward violently enough to overload the restraint systems entirely.

Then Ashlyn drove Gravebrand directly through the enemy mech’s chest reactor.

The machine froze.

Then collapsed backward into the harbor in a catastrophic explosion. The pilot was able to eject just in time.

The three Stahlritter stood motionless among burning wreckage and shattered docks.

Inside Drakken’s cockpit, Ashlyn stared silently at the destroyed enemy unit.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace isn't here.

Nobody answered immediately.

Miles finally spoke quietly.

Miles Rowan: But Professor Halden was.

Lena looked toward the city skyline.

Lena Solis: Which means Avalon Academy is connected somehow.

Ashlyn slowly lowered her head.

Then one thought surfaced simultaneously in all their minds.

Father Lughbow.

Thunder rolled across Metro City as the remaining three Kishiranger stared silently into the storm.

To Be Continued...

Last edited by Machismo (5/17/2026 2:17 am)

Machismo · 5/18/2026 3:51 pm

Episode 15: The New True Blue

The Monday morning bell at Avalon Academy sounded almost insultingly normal.

Students flooded the hallways carrying books and Cafe Noir coffee while conversations about exams, sports festivals, and celebrity gossip echoed through the massive campus. Sunlight poured through stained-glass windows high above polished marble floors while faculty members attempted to herd late students toward classrooms.

To anyone else, Avalon Academy looked peaceful.

To the remaining Kishiranger, it felt like enemy territory.

Miles Rowan sat slumped at his desk near the back of class while pretending to read a history textbook. His eyes instead drifted toward the chapel visible through the classroom windows across the courtyard below.

Father Lughbow stood outside speaking calmly with several students.

The priest smiled warmly.

Completely harmless...seemingly.

Teacher: Mr. Rowan?

Miles blinked.

Miles Rowan: Huh?

Several students laughed.

Teacher: Since you seem deeply fascinated by the window, perhaps you’d also like to explain the economic policies of post-war reconstruction?

Miles stared blankly.

Miles Rowan: I wouldn't like that at all.

More laughter erupted across the room.

Meanwhile several floors above, Lena Solis sat in literature class while pretending to take notes.

Instead, she was reading more from the Zauberer book left by her mother. Apparently, Der Gralsbund were considered controversial even by the church, and many arguments erupted when they wanted to frame the Zauberer as heretical, even though their powers came from Sanctum space, and not from the demonic void.

Every few minutes she casually glanced toward the academy grounds where armored security personnel quietly moved between buildings disguised as ordinary campus guards. She hadn't noticed them once before today. Now, she was seeing them everywhere.

Der Gralsbund presence.

Definitely.

Her pencil stopped moving when she noticed Ashlyn sitting silently near the windows.

Ashlyn had barely spoken all day.

The black-haired girl stared toward the distant chapel tower while sunlight illuminated the side of her face. Her expression looked calm at first glance.

But Lena knew better.

Ashlyn wasn’t sleeping.

None of them really were.

Not after Trace disappeared.

Not after seeing him dragged away in chains by the friend they trusted.

The memory still haunted all of them.

Especially her.

That night the KED Building command center remained unusually quiet.

The monitors glowed softly across the darkened room while Avalon City traffic cameras scrolled endlessly across nearby displays. Avalon City had been more quiet since the Worzol Dimension took as big of a loss as the Kishiranger did when Ray and Der Gralsbund made their move.

Miles sat upside down across one of the couches eating instant noodles.

Lena scrolled through surveillance photos.

Ashlyn sat alone near the far window.

Rain drifted softly against the glass outside.

She held Gravebrand across her lap.

Oathrender rested nearby.

The two swords hummed faintly together whenever placed close enough, their energies resonating in strange harmony.

Ashlyn stared at her reflection in the window.

Then closed her eyes.

The dance returned immediately.

Trace’s hand against hers.

The warmth of his palm.

The awkward stiffness in the way he tried so hard to understand modern customs while still carrying the sincerity of another age.

The almost-kiss.

The moment he leaned closer before everything fell apart.

Ashlyn slowly curled her fingers around the fabric of her sleeve.

She imagined him beside her now.

Sitting on the rooftop.

Watching the rain.

She imagined laying her head against his shoulder.

Imagined hearing his voice again.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Come back already. Reach out...somehow. Let me find you.

Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

She hated how empty the room felt without him.

Behind her, neither Lena nor Miles interrupted.

Because they missed him too.

The next afternoon, an unfamiliar black luxury vehicle rolled slowly to a stop outside the KED Building.

Dorian Vale noticed it immediately through the security cameras.

The rear passenger door opened.

A tall man stepped out wearing an immaculate navy suit trimmed with silver accents. His dark blue hair moved slightly in the breeze while polished dress shoes clicked softly against the pavement.

Roland Vander.

Head of Vander Industries.

One of the wealthiest and most influential men in Avalon City.

And a name Dorian recognized immediately.

The KED Building front door opened moments later.

Roland stepped inside calmly, hands folded behind his back as he surveyed the modest delivery office with visible amusement.

Roland Vander: Fascinating.

Dorian emerged from the hidden elevator entrance nearby.

Dorian Vale: I wondered how long it would take you to find us.

Roland smiled slightly.

Roland Vander: You understand how seriously my family takes its obligations.

The two men studied each other carefully.

Then Roland’s expression became more serious.

Roland Vander: I know who you are. I know what the Kishiranger are. And I know what is happening beneath Avalon City.

Dorian remained calm.

Dorian Vale: Then you also know that speaking such things aloud is dangerous.

Roland Vander: Danger is a longstanding tradition in my bloodline.

He slowly removed one glove.

A silver crest marked the back of his hand.

A lion beneath a crown.

Roland Vander: The Vander family fought during the Great War alongside Sir Mercer...and alongside the one who warned the king about the impending darkness in the first place. The one who rallied together Magnus, The Zauberer, and the Church. Jeanne Ark herself.

That name immediately changed the atmosphere.

Dorian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Dorian Vale: You know about Jeanne Ark?

Roland nodded.

Roland Vander: My ancestors swore an oath to protect her bloodline for all generations.

He looked directly toward the hidden elevator descending into the command center below.

Roland Vander: Which means I know exactly who her ancestor is. I have supported your operations quietly. Vander Industries has been repairing the damage from the multiple battles to keep eyes off of you the best we can. This was all I could do until I located this base, but now I'm here to do more.

Dorian studied him carefully.

Dorian Vale: Why reveal yourself now?

Roland’s expression darkened slightly.

Roland Vander: Because Sir Mercer has fallen, am I right?

Silence.

Roland Vander: And because my family’s oath requires action.

Alarms suddenly screamed throughout the command center below.

Miles nearly fell back in his chair.

Miles Rowan: OH COME ON.

Lena spun toward the monitors.

Lena Solis: Massive Ehrvolt spike at Avalon Academy!

Ashlyn was already standing.

The main screen flashed red as camera feeds filled with chaos.

Students ran screaming across campus while explosions erupted near the chapel courtyard.

Garrakis had arrived.

The massive armored general stood amidst shattered stone and burning trees while dozens of Dreadlings flooded the academy grounds around him.

Beside Garrakis lumbered a new Worzol monster.

The creature resembled a gigantic armored executioner. Every movement produced black smoke from the gaps in its armor. They were flanked by a cadre of Dreadlings

Students fled in terror.

Father Lughbow stood near the chapel entrance watching silently. He calmly remained at the chapel while everyone else fled.

Miles Rowan: That guy! He's not panicking at all! I think everything we assumed is correct!

Ashlyn Westbrook: We still have a duty to protect him and everyone else on the campus! Let's do this!

Ashlyn Westbrook: Courage sworn.

Miles Rowan: Wild heart awakened.

Lena Solis: Truth shone.

All Five: Kishiranger, arise!

Black, green, and yellow light exploded across the command center.

Moments later the three Kishiranger where exiting the garage in their motorcycles and heading towards the Academy. Roland Vander watched on, before turning back to Dorian Vale.

Roland Vander: It looks like we don't have a lot of time. I'm going to do this regardless, so why don't you help me? You can wait for the Magnus Foundation's approval or you can let me do what I can.

Dorian Vale: ...You're right.

The three Kishiranger hit the scene and immediately began to battle the Dreadlings with sword, axe, and spear. Their Ehrvolt readings had apparently been climbing, and that was obvious to them as they made short work of the creatures when they used to be more difficult.

Kishi Black rushed through and crossed blades with the Worzol monster while Kishi Green and Yellow intercepted another wave of charging Dreadlings. They were stronger now, but a problem began to arise. The numbers. They kept coming. The numbers began to get overwhelming.

Dozens upon dozens of monsters flooded the grounds.

Garrakis himself entered the fight moments later.

One swing of his gigantic stone axe sent Kishi Green crashing through a fountain.

Miles Rowan: WHY IS HE ALWAYS THIS STRONG?!

Kishi Yellow unleashed repeated swings with Aymr while Ashlyn fought ferociously against the Worzol monster.

But exhaustion was already catching them.

From atop a nearby rooftop, Roland Vander looked down upon the fight. He saw the trio fighting bravely, but slowly beginning to lose. He opened up his jacket to reveal an Oath Buckler, and held the Oathlink aloft.

Roland Vander: KNOWLEDGE GUARDED! KISHIRANGER, ARISE!

Blue energy erupted across the battlefield.

Every Dreadling suddenly froze.

A streak of sapphire light tore through the courtyard like a meteor before slamming directly into the monster line.

The armored blue warrior landed between the Kishiranger and Garrakis.

Blue cape flowing.

Lion crest blazing across his armor.

The Blue Kishiranger.

Even Garrakis paused slightly.

Garrakis: We believed the Blue Knight to be a traitor!

The Blue Kishiranger rose slowly before brandishing Vanguard.

Blue Kishiranger: You will not harm them.

Ashlyn blinked behind her helmet.

Kishi Black: Wait...who are—

Before she could finish, Blue suddenly hurled Oathrender toward her.

Ashlyn caught it instinctively.

Then froze.

Because she now held both Oathrender and Gravebrand simultaneously.

Blue pointed toward the Worzol monster.

Blue Kishiranger: Lady Ashlyn!

Something inside both swords awakened.

Black-red energy exploded from Gravebrand while crimson-gold fire erupted from Oathrender.

Ashlyn crossed both blades.

The energies merged violently.

Ashlyn Westbrook: FINAL VOW...TWIN JUDGMENT!

A massive X-shaped blast of black and crimson fire erupted across the courtyard.

The Worzol monster screamed as both energies tore directly through its core.

The explosion obliterated the surrounding Dreadlings instantly.

When the smoke cleared, the Worzol monster was destroyed. No giant. No second wave. It was just gone.

But Garrakis still stood.

Completely unharmed.

One massive armored hand had intercepted the remaining blast.

The giant general slowly lowered his arm.

Garrakis: Better.

Then he turned away.

Garrakis: Lord Vantrex will enjoy crushing you himself. Our war is just beginning.

Shadow portals opened behind the surviving Dreadlings.

Within moments Garrakis and the monsters vanished.

Silence fell across Avalon Academy.

Smoke drifted through the ruined courtyard.

Then the Blue Kishiranger slowly powered down.

Blue armor dissolved into streams of light revealing Roland Vander beneath.

He walked directly toward Ashlyn as she powered down as well.

Roland stopped before her.

Then slowly took her hand.

And bowed.

Miles’ jaw dropped instantly.

Lena blinked twice.

Ashlyn looked completely stunned.

Roland Vander: Lady Ashlyn Westbrook.

He raised his head slowly.

Roland Vander: It was destiny that brought us together.

Ashlyn stared at him speechlessly.

Roland’s expression softened respectfully.

Roland Vander: My family has awaited the return of Jeanne Ark’s bloodline for generations.

The courtyard went completely silent.

Roland Vander: Because you...are her descendant.

To Be Continued...

Last edited by Machismo (5/18/2026 3:53 pm)

Machismo · 5/20/2026 12:30 am

He faced darkness. Not the comforting darkness of night, but the suffocating kind that felt ancient, damp, and buried beneath centuries of stone. Water dripped somewhere in the distance in slow, uneven rhythms. Metal groaned softly against stone. Strange symbols pulsed along the walls in dim violet intervals, the runes flickering like a heartbeat.

Ray Matthews stood in silence before a massive reinforced chamber door.

The corridor around him was lined with Gralsbund knights in black armor. None of them spoke to him. None of them even looked directly at him. The atmosphere carried the same oppressive reverence one would expect near a sacred relic.

Or a monster.

Ray’s expression never changed.

His glasses reflected the faint purple glow leaking through the seams of the chamber ahead as he stared through the narrow slit in the reinforced viewing gate.

Chains.

Jagged crimson light.

Something pulling violently against restraints hard enough to shake the walls.

A distorted growl echoed from within the chamber.

Not entirely human.

Ray’s face remained stone cold.

Footsteps approached from behind.

Father Lughbow emerged first, hands folded calmly behind his back while the hem of his dark priest robes dragged across the damp floor. Beside him walked Professor Halden, wearing his lab coat over visible pieces of Gralsbund armor now embedded across his chest and shoulders like ceremonial plating.

The two men stopped beside Ray.

For several seconds, none of them spoke.

Then another violent impact shook the chamber.

Purple Gralsbund runes surged brighter across the walls.

Professor Halden adjusted his glasses with fascination.

Professor Halden: The Ehrvolt output is still climbing.

Father Lughbow: But we can contain it.

Another roar thundered from inside.

Ray’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Father Lughbow looked toward him.

Father Lughbow: You understand now why they can't be trusted with power? They enabled this. They let it happen.

Ray said nothing.

Professor Halden smiled faintly.

Professor Halden: Emotion. Attachment. Weakness. Sir Mercer could never fully abandon the heart of a knight, and that order refused to see him as anything but that. They saw him as a hero that could be trusted to roam freely, knowing full well he spent fifteen hundred years harboring a curse.

Father Lughbow: But you are different, Raymond. You accepted truth.

Professor Halden reached into a reinforced black case carried by one of the armored knights nearby. The case unfolded with mechanical precision, revealing a silver device resting inside.

It resembled an Oath Buckler, with the insignia of Der Gralsbund.

Beside it rested a silver Oathlink.

Ray stared at them.

Father Lughbow: Der Gralsbund has watched you for a long time.

Professor Halden: Your potential was extraordinary even before awakening your Ehrvolt.

Father Lughbow: And now...you are prepared to ascend.

The armored priest lifted the silver buckle from the case carefully.

Father Lughbow: The Third Dominion of Der Gralsbund.

Professor Halden smiled.

Professor Halden: Along with all the privileges such a title carries.

Ray finally spoke.

Ray Matthews: And if I refuse?

Father Lughbow looked genuinely amused.

Father Lughbow: You already made your choice the moment you came to us.

Another impact exploded against the chamber door behind them hard enough to bend steel inward.

Ray did not turn around.

The buckle was placed into his hands.

Silver lightning crackled softly around the silver metal.

Father Lughbow: Rise, Silver Templar.

Episode 16: The Silver Templar

The KED Building command center was unusually quiet.

The emptiness lingered over everything.

Ashlyn sat at the central table staring blankly at one of the tactical monitors while Lena spun slowly in a chair nearby, half pretending not to worry. Miles leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, exhaustion obvious on his face.

Dorian Vale stood near the lion crest at the back of the room as the elevator doors opened.

Heavy footsteps echoed into the chamber.

Roland Vander entered dressed in his immaculate navy suit, silver-lined gloves folded neatly behind his back. The blue Oathlink rested visibly at his side now.

Miles blinked.

Miles Rowan: Wow. He actually came back. Didn't expect Roland Vander of all people to come to our aid!

Lena Solis: Rich people usually don’t volunteer for monster attacks, unless they have the last name Faust, and a lot of people consider him to be crazy.

Roland gave a polite nod.

Roland Vander: My apologies. I had several corporate assets to relocate after Avalon Academy was nearly destroyed.

Lena pointed at him.

Lena Solis: That's above our pay grade.

Ashlyn barely looked at him.

Roland walked toward Dorian.

Roland Vander: Mister Vale.

Dorian nodded.

Dorian Vale: I assume your decision remains unchanged.

Roland’s expression sharpened immediately.

Roland Vander: It does.

He turned toward the others.

Roland Vander: I formally requested permission to become the newest member of Kishiranger.

Silence.

Miles looked surprised.

Lena looked intrigued.

Ashlyn looked irritated.

Ashlyn Westbrook: This isn’t some club you buy your way into.

Roland remained calm.

Roland Vander: M'lady, I am all too aware.

Ashlyn stood up.

Ashlyn Westbrook: We’re supposed to trust each other.

The words caught in her throat.

Ray’s face flashed through her mind.

Ashlyn looked away bitterly.

Ashlyn Westbrook: ...Or at least we thought we did.

The room fell quiet.

Roland’s expression softened slightly.

Roland Vander: I understand your hesitation. I know what has happened, more or less. You're a fractured team.

Ashlyn Westbrook: That's right. We are fractured. Trace is gone, and it's Ray's fault! Right now we can barely keep ourselves together.

She walked past him toward the elevator.

Ashlyn Westbrook: But if monsters keep attacking Avalon City, then yeah. We probably need the help.

The elevator closed behind her.

Silence lingered awkwardly for a moment.

Lena Solis: You don't seen to be a bad guy. We've seen what you do on television. You've been cleaning up our messes. We thank you for that.

Roland Vander: I've been attempting to make the city more accessible for you as well.

Lena Solis: We do appreciate it. I mean, once upon a time we were begging your company for grant money for one of our digs, and now you're here, wanting to join us? It's a lot to take in. However, with Trace gone, Ashlyn has kept us going. She's calling the shots as far as I'm concerned. If you're in, it's because she says so.

Miles Rowan stepped uncomfortably close to Roland Vander.

Roland Vander: Umm...excuse me? Can I-

Miles Rowan: So you're THE Roland Vander? Feeling the pressure right now? Yeah, that's the kind of pressure we're always under. You want to be one of us? You have to be able to stand the pressure. Also, I apologize, it just occurred to me that I forgot to put on deodorant.

Roland Vander: I-I understand your hesitancy.

Dorian motioned toward Roland.

Dorian Vale: She’ll come around eventually.

Roland stared thoughtfully toward the elevator.

Roland Vander: Perhaps.

Night covered Avalon City in silver moonlight.

Ashlyn stood alone on the rooftop of the KED Building staring out across the skyline. Wind tugged softly at her black hair while city lights reflected in her eyes.

She closed them.

And immediately remembered the dance.

Trace’s hand against hers.

The awkward sincerity on his face when he tried to pretend he wasn’t nervous.

Ashlyn hugged herself tightly.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Idiot...

Her voice cracked slightly.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You were supposed to come back to us. Come back...to me.

The rooftop door opened behind her.

Roland stepped outside quietly.

Ashlyn sighed without turning around.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Do rich people not understand personal space?

Roland actually chuckled softly.

Roland Vander: I’m afraid the Vander family has a long history of being overly persistent.

Ashlyn finally looked at him.

Moonlight reflected across his blue hair.

Roland approached slowly.

Roland Vander: You...are more beautiful than I imagined.

Ashlyn blinked.

Ashlyn Westbrook: ...What?

Roland folded his hands behind his back.

Roland Vander: Jeanne Ark.

Ashlyn stared blankly.

Roland Vander: The Patron of Avalon. The woman who warned the kingdom about the Worzol Dimension during the Great War.

Ashlyn frowned.

Ashlyn Westbrook: What does that have to do with me?

Roland looked directly into her eyes.

Roland Vander: You are her descendant.

Ashlyn froze.

The wind suddenly felt colder.

Roland continued calmly.

Roland Vander: Some believed Jeanne was chosen by providence itself. Others feared her. Der Gralsbund distrusted her. Even the Zauberer questioned her intentions.

He smiled faintly.

Roland Vander: But the King trusted her. As did his knights.

Ashlyn listened silently.

Roland Vander: Sir Mercer himself fought beside her despite never having met her beforehand. He pledged his sword to her cause because he believed utterly in her heart.

Ashlyn looked down slightly.

Roland’s voice softened.

Roland Vander: My ancestor swore loyalty to Jeanne Ark and her bloodline.

He bowed his head respectfully.

Roland Vander: And I intend to uphold that oath.

Ashlyn looked genuinely overwhelmed now.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You’re saying your family has been waiting centuries for...me?

Roland smiled.

Roland Vander: In a sense.

He hesitated.

Roland Vander: I grew up hearing stories about Jeanne Ark. Her courage. Her beauty. Her strength.

His eyes softened.

Roland Vander: Somewhere along the way...I think I fell in love with the idea of her.

Ashlyn’s eyes widened slightly.

Roland looked at her carefully.

Roland Vander: And now I wish to protect the woman who carries her legacy. To think you'd been here in the city with me all this time.

Ashlyn immediately looked uncomfortable.

Because another face still occupied her heart completely.

Trace Mercer.

Far away, thunder rolled across the night sky.

Something chained in darkness roared again.

The next day, students returned to class because Vander ensured the school re-opening was top priority. Traffic crawled along rebuilt roads because people still needed somewhere to go. Yet anyone paying attention could see the small cracks in normal life, from the armored vans parked near public buildings to the extra security outside Avalon Academy, to the constant news feeds about Vander Industries accelerating reconstruction across every damaged district.

Inside the KED Building command center, Roland Vander stood at one of the side consoles while Dorian Vale reviewed the blue Oathlink readings beside him. The device rested on the table, glowing steadily, as if it had always been waiting for Roland’s hand rather than Ray’s. That thought bothered Miles more than he wanted to admit. He sat nearby with one leg bouncing restlessly beneath the table, eyes flicking from the Oathlink to Roland and then to the empty pedestal where Ray’s blue relic had once been housed.

Lena stood near the monitors with her arms crossed, watching Roland with a look both suspicious and impressed. Ashlyn kept her distance, leaning against the far wall with Oathrender and Gravebrand beside her. She had said almost nothing since the rooftop conversation.

Dorian tapped several symbols across the console, and the blue Oathlink pulsed in response.

Dorian Vale: The synchronization is stable. Roland’s Ehrvolt compatibility with the blue relic is not identical to Ray’s, but it is unusually strong. When Trace awoke his Ehrvolt was a 5.0, but Roland Vander is at a 5.2.

Miles Rowan: Great. Fantastic. What does that mean again?

Lena Solis: It means he's stronger than Trace was when he awoke.

Miles Rowan: And what did you say I was? 4.2? Lena too? Great.

Roland looked toward Miles calmly.

Roland Vander: I really do understand your discomfort.

Miles Rowan: No offense, man, but I don’t think you do. The last Blue was my best friend, then he stole the Grail, kidnapped Trace, and apparently he's disappeared from the face of the Earth! So when a new rich guy strolls in, takes the blue relics and destiny apparently wants him here, my trust muscles are a little cramped.

Roland absorbed the words without offense. If anything, the bluntness seemed to earn a small nod of respect from him.

Roland Vander: Then I will not ask you to trust me today. I will only ask for the opportunity to prove myself to you.

Lena glanced toward Miles.

Lena Solis: That’s a pretty good answer. Annoyingly noble, but good.

Miles Rowan: He practiced that in a mirror. I can feel it.

Ashlyn finally spoke from the wall.

Ashlyn Westbrook: We don’t have time to decide whether he’s sincere by committee. If he can fight, he fights. If he gets in the way, I move him.

Roland smiled faintly.

Roland Vander: Fair.

The main monitor suddenly flickered as an alert appeared from one of Vander Industries’ private intelligence channels. Roland’s expression changed before anyone else noticed the details. His hand moved quickly across the console, opening the message into a projection of a satellite map outside Arcadia City. The region sat far beyond Avalon. It was the Clockwork City.

Dorian leaned forward.

Dorian Vale: What is this?

Roland’s eyes narrowed.

Roland Vander: Forgive me. I have been monitoring the activity of the conglomerate known as Axis Nova.

Miles looked up.

Miles Rowan: Axis Nova? That's a Geist competitor is it not?

Lena grimaced.

Lena Solis: They’re worse than that. Shadow corporation, private experiments, missing assets, weapons trafficking, influence laundering, the works. They came from out of nowhere, and suddenly entrenched themselves into every aspect of life. They used to have a much stronger foothold in Arcadia City before something wrecked their operation.

Ashlyn turned toward the map now.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Something?

Dorian adjusted his glasses.

Dorian Vale: Arcadia has had several incidents as of late. Axis Nova lost access to a major source of influence after one such event. However, they are not of the Worzol Dimension.

Miles Rowan: Maybe they're shopping for new friends.

Roland nodded.

Roland Vander: My contacts indicate that Axis Nova has arranged a meeting on the outskirts of Arcadia City tonight. The word "Worzol" did come up. That's when I knew it was time to make my introduction to you. This group IS looking for a new friend from a very dark place.

Ashlyn’s expression sharpened.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Vantrex?

Dorian Vale: The Worzol Dimension's army took a hit when Der Gralsbund obtained the grail. Maybe they are looking for an alliance. They had allies during the Great War as well.

The map zoomed toward an abandoned industrial district surrounded by dead rail lines and broken concrete. Grainy images appeared showing dark vehicles entering a fenced compound.

Roland set his jaw.

Roland Vander: If Axis Nova and the Worzol Dimension work together, this war spreads far beyond Avalon.

Ashlyn pushed herself away from the wall.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Then we stop the meeting.

Dorian raised one hand.

Dorian Vale: We need caution. During your last encounter, it became clear to me that Worzol had suffered a blow in their inability to grow their Worzol beast. If that has changed you'll be at a disadvantage. We don't know if we can operate Kreiger.

At the mention of Krieger, the room changed. The red Stahlritter’s dormant status had become a constant wound.[/b]

Ashlyn looked toward the empty red pedestal.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Then we go without Krieger...for now. If it comes to it, we'll see if it'll respond. We're all linked together with the Oathlink. If it can feel us, connect with us, then maybe it'll work.

Miles stood more slowly.

Miles Rowan: That's a bad idea, but it's all we've got, right? Let's do this.

Lena Solis: Suddenly so confident.

Miles Rowan: Ashlyn needs us to be.

Lena Solis: Confident and correct.

Roland picked up the blue Oathlink from the table. The device pulsed in his hand, casting blue light across his face.

Roland Vander: You're not alone anymore.

Ashlyn exhaled through her nose.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Fine. But we follow my lead.

Roland gave a formal nod.

Roland Vander: Of course. I came to serve the descendant of Jeanne Ark. That is what I will do.

Miles leaned toward Lena again.

Miles Rowan: This guy almost talks like Trace.

Ray Matthews stood in a circular armory chamber surrounded by silver banners and old stone walls.

He affixed the Silver Templar device across his waist, similar in function to an Oath Buckler but colder in design, its metal polished like moonlit steel. The silver Oathlink was mounted onto his belt, glowing with restrained violet-white light.

Professor Halden moved around him with a scanner, making quiet notes on a transparent tablet.

Professor Halden: Remarkable. Your Ehrvolt flow has increased dramatically since the Dominion induction.

Ray flexed one gloved hand.

The armor had not yet formed around him, but he could feel it beneath the device, waiting. It was not like the Kishiranger transformation. That had felt warm, familiar, like joining a chorus. This felt disciplined. Precise. A blade being drawn from a sheath.

Father Lughbow stood near the chamber entrance.

Father Lughbow: You will be sent alone.

Ray looked toward him.

Ray Matthews: Alone?

Father Lughbow: Axis Nova is attempting to negotiate with the Worzol Dimension. The matter requires speed and discretion. You will disrupt the alliance, secure any relevant material, and eliminate the Worzol threat if necessary.

Ray’s eyes sharpened slightly.

Ray Matthews: Of course.

Professor Halden glanced up.

Professor Halden: Worzol entities are dangerous. They do not belong here.

Ray Matthews: I know what Worzol monsters are.

Father Lughbow stepped closer.

Father Lughbow: Then you also know that the Kishiranger are likely to interfere if they detect the same activity.

Ray went still.

Lughbow watched him carefully.

Father Lughbow: If they do, you are not to reveal yourself.

Ray’s expression remained flat.

Ray Matthews: And if they get in the way?

There was a pause.

Professor Halden stopped scanning.

Father Lughbow’s face remained gentle, almost paternal, which made the answer worse before he even said it.

Father Lughbow: You are the Third Dominion now. You must decide which loyalties serve the greater good. If you can obtain their Oath Bucklers or Oathlinks, you should do so.

Ray looked away.

For one brief moment, his mind flashed to Miles outside the academy, laughing too loudly about some terrible joke. Lena calling him out when he tried to hide stress behind logic. Ashlyn glaring at him across the chamber after he took Trace. Trace, unconscious in his arms, heavier than any curse could ever be.

Ray closed his hand into a fist.

Ray Matthews: Understood.

Father Lughbow smiled.

Father Lughbow: Good. Silver Templar, proceed.

Night settled over the outskirts of Arcadia City like a dirty blanket. The industrial dead zone sprawled beneath overpasses and abandoned utility towers, its factories gutted, its warehouses tagged with old warning signs and corporate logos long since painted over. Sodium lights buzzed above cracked asphalt while distant traffic murmured beyond the fences. The area looked forgotten by the Clockwork city, which made it exactly the kind of place where dangerous people made worse deals.

A black Axis Nova convoy sat in the center of an abandoned shipping yard. Sleek armored cars idled with their headlights off. Men and women in tailored black uniforms stood in tight formation near a portable negotiation table, their faces lit by tablets and the cold glow of experimental energy canisters.

Then the air tore open.

A Worzol portal spread across the far end of the yard, ragged and green-black, spilling cold mist across the ground. Vire the Swift stepped through first, smiling as though this were all beneath him. He wore his usual dark armor, blades resting lazily at his sides, violet highlights catching in his hair. Behind him emerged a Worzol monster shaped like a sleek armored jackal crossed with a siege engine, its body covered in black plates and jagged silver spines. Its head had three narrow glowing eyes, and bladed wheels rotated along its shoulders as though it had been designed to hunt moving prey.

Several Dreadlings crawled from the portal behind them.

The Axis Nova representative, a woman with a silver cybernetic eye and a white corporate coat, did not flinch.

Axis Nova Representative: Vire the Swift.

Vire looked around the yard with exaggerated boredom.

Vire the Swift: This is where your corporation conducts secret alliances? I’ve seen trash heaps with more dignity.

Axis Nova Representative: We are prepared to offer technology, funding, and battlefield intelligence in exchange for controlled access to Worzol dimensional passage systems.

Vire laughed.

Vire the Swift: Humans really do have ambition. You lost your access to the future, and now you're willing to give it all up for our kind of access. You can have it all too, but we really just need one thing from you. Any and all information you have regarding the Der Gralsbund and the Gra-

Before the representative could answer, silver light cut through the yard.

A vertical slash of energy split the negotiation table cleanly in half.

Everyone turned.

A figure in silver armor stood atop a stack of abandoned containers, cloak moving lightly behind him despite the still air. His armor resembled a templar knight rebuilt through modern technology, smooth silver plates lined with black and violet runes. The helmet concealed his face behind a narrow white visor.

The Silver Templar raised one hand.

Silver Templar: This negotiation is over.

Vire’s grin widened immediately.

Vire the Swift: Oh? Now this is interesting.

Axis Nova soldiers raised weapons.

The Silver Templar moved before they could fire.

He dropped from the containers in a flash of silver light, landing between two soldiers and striking both with nonlethal precision before spinning away from a barrage of energy rounds. His movements were sharper than Ray had ever moved as Kishi Blue, no wasted motion, no hesitation, no protective shield-first restraint. He disarmed three soldiers in seconds, knocked another unconscious with a chop, then turned toward Vire and the Worzol monster.

Vire tilted his head.

Vire the Swift: You smell familiar.

The Silver Templar said nothing.

Vire vanished.

The Silver Templar blocked as he came back into focus.

Vire the Swift: Finally! Someone who will make me actually try.

The Silver Templar pulled out an ornate silver sword.

Vire the Swift: Very pretty, but how sharp is it?

Their blades clashed in the center of the yard, sparks bursting across wet asphalt. Vire’s expression shifted from amusement to mild surprise as the silver fighter matched his first exchange. The Templar pivoted, driving Vire back with three clean strikes before firing a short-range burst of white-violet energy from his sword.

Vire flipped away laughing.

Vire the Swift: Well, well. Somebody stopped holding back his Ehrvolt.

The Silver Templar’s visor narrowed faintly.

Silver Templar: Leave. Now.

Vire the Swift: Not impressed yet.

The Worzol monster charged.

The Silver Templar crossed his arms as the beast slammed into him, forcing him backward across the yard. His boots carved trenches in the pavement before he redirected the momentum and hurled the monster sideways into a stack of rusted containers. The creature rolled, unfolded its bladed wheels, and shot forward again with horrifying speed.

Ray barely avoided the attack.

Inside the armor, his breathing remained controlled, but the impact had rattled him more than expected. The Silver Templar was powerful, but he was alone.

Then green light exploded across the yard.

Kishi Green slammed into the monster from the side with Gungnir, knocking it off its path before springing backward into a crouch.

Miles Rowan: Hey! Ugly! I don't know who the silver guy is, but your fight is with me!

Yellow light flashed behind two Axis Nova soldiers as Kishi Yellow knocked them down with controlled strikes.

Lena Solis: Looks like we made it just in time!

Black energy tore through the remaining Dreadlings as Kishi Black landed in the center of the yard with Oathrender in one hand and Gravebrand in the other. Her cape snapped behind her as both swords hummed.

Blue light descended last.

Roland Vander, transformed as the new Kishi Blue, landed beside her with Vanguard flaring across his arm.

Roland Vander: Axis Nova forces, stand down. This alliance ends here.

Miles glanced toward him.

Miles Rowan: Still weird hearing someone else do the blue guy voice.

The Silver Templar froze.

For one terrible second, Ray looked at his former team.

They did not know him.

Roland stood where Ray used to stand.

The new Blue.

Ray forced himself not to react.

Vire noticed anyway.

His grin turned poisonous.

Vire the Swift: Oh, this is delicious.

Kishi Black turned slightly toward the Silver Templar.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Who are you?

Ray kept his voice distorted.

Silver Templar: Someone stopping the same enemy.

Miles Rowan: Vague mysterious guy. Great. We were short on those.

Kishi Yellow looked between him and Vire.

Lena Solis: If he’s fighting Vire, he’s useful for now.

Kishi Black did not like it, but she nodded once.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Fine. Don’t get in our way.

Ray’s grip tightened around his silver blade.

Silver Templar: I could say the same.

The words came out colder than he intended.

Miles tilted his helmet slightly.

Something about the tone struck him.

But before he could think further, Vire clapped his hands once.

Vire the Swift: Wonderful. This is almost too crowded.

The Worzol monster rose behind him, its shoulder wheels screaming as they accelerated.

Vire the Swift: Razorgait, tear them apart.

The monster launched itself forward.

The battle erupted across the shipping yard.

Kishi Green and Yellow took the flanks, forcing Dreadlings away from the Axis Nova soldiers who were trying to retreat with their cases. Kishi Blue moved with practiced precision, raising Vanguard to block the attacks of the Worzol monster. Kishi Black charged Razorgait directly, her dual swords clashing against its spinning shoulder blades in a violent shower of sparks.

The Silver Templar fought Vire.

Their duel moved faster than the others except for Miles could follow, silver and violet sparks flashing between containers, over vehicles, and across the roof of an overturned truck. Ray pushed harder than he ever had as Kishi Blue. He let the Gralsbund armor draw more Ehrvolt through him, let it strengthen each strike, let it sharpen each reaction. For once, he did not hold back the pressure inside him.

Vire still smiled.

Vire the Swift: Better. Definitely better.

He vanished and reappeared behind Ray.

Ray spun and blocked, but Vire’s second dagger scraped across his side, sending silver sparks flying from his armor.

Vire the Swift: Still not enough.

Ray answered by driving his elbow backward into Vire’s chest and blasting him through an Axis Nova transport van with a burst of silver light.

For half a second, Ray almost felt satisfaction.

Then Kishi Green’s voice cut across the battlefield.

Miles Rowan: Hey, silver guy! Little help with the murder dog?!

Ray turned.

Razorgait had broken through Ashlyn’s guard and was racing toward Lena, bladed wheels carving sparks across the ground. Kishi Yellow tried to dodge, but an Axis Nova restraint net tangled around her leg from a panicked soldier’s misfire. The monster lunged.

Ray moved before thinking.

He appeared between Lena and the monster, silver gauntlets raised. Razorgait slammed into him with enough force to crack the pavement, but he held. Violet-white energy erupted from the shield and threw the monster backward.

Kishi Yellow stared.

Lena Solis: Thanks.

Ray said nothing.

If he answered, she might hear him.

Kishi Black arrived an instant later, slicing through the net around Lena’s leg before turning sharply on the Silver Templar.

Ashlyn Westbrook: I know my history. You look like a Templar Knight. Are you with the church?

Ray’s silence stretched a moment too long.

Kishi Blue stepped between them slightly, not aggressively, but cautiously.

Roland Vander: Questions later. Monster first.

Ashlyn’s eyes remained on the Silver Templar for another heartbeat.

Then Razorgait roared, and the fight resumed.

The four Kishiranger and the Silver Templar drove the enemy back together without truly fighting together. Roland coordinated defense. Miles disrupted movement. Lena waited until no one was looking and used her Sanctum energy to blind and stagger the Dreadlings. Ashlyn pressed Razorgait from the front with both swords, refusing to give ground. Ray attacked from the shadows of the formation, striking only when openings appeared, vanishing before anyone could ask him anything.

For one moment, despite everything, they almost resembled a complete team again.

That made Ray feel sick.

Vire climbed from the wrecked van, wiping rain from his face with one gloved hand.

Vire the Swift: All right. You actually got my blood pumping.

He snapped his fingers.

Dreadlings surged forward.

The Axis Nova representative attempted to flee toward a waiting vehicle, but Roland intercepted her path and disabled the car with a controlled blue strike.

Roland Vander: You are under protection until authorities arrive.

Axis Nova Representative: Protection?

Roland Vander: From them. Your life would have been forfeit the moment you gave them what they wanted. Consider yourself fortunate.

Miles flipped over a Dreadling and kicked another into a container.

Miles Rowan: That was such a blue line. He's absolutely a blue.

Lena smashed two Dreadlings away with Aymr.

Lena Solis: Beep beep, Miles! Keep fighting!

Ashlyn crossed Oathrender and Gravebrand again. Their energies screamed together, black-purple and red-gold whipping around her armor in spirals. Razorgait lowered itself, ready to charge.

Ashlyn thought of Trace.

She thought of him taken away by Ray.

She thought of his voice telling her that this century felt survivable because of her.

Her grip tightened.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Final Vow...Twin Judgment!

The crossed blades unleashed a massive X-shaped blast across the shipping yard. The attack tore through Razorgait’s armored body and consumed the remaining Dreadlings in a storm of black and crimson light. Containers split apart. Asphalt cracked. The Worzol monster screamed as its body detonated in a violent eruption of sparks and smoke.

For a moment, the battlefield went still.

Miles lowered his spear.

Miles Rowan: That attack is scary!

Lena exhaled hard.

Lena Solis: I like it.

Roland looked at Ashlyn with awe he tried to hide and failed.

Roland Vander: Lady Ashlyn...remarkable.

Ashlyn did not answer.

She was staring at the smoking crater.

The Silver Templar stood nearby, silent, unreadable beneath his helmet.

Vire slowly clapped from atop a container.

Vire the Swift: Beautiful. Really. You people know how to make failure dramatic.

Kishi Black lifted both swords toward him.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You’re next.

Vire shrugged.

Vire the Swift: I’d love to stay, but we did suffer a rather annoying blow when we failed to retrieve the Grail. That said, we’re strong enough again for this.

He snapped his fingers again.

The remains of Razorgait ignited with green-black energy.

The crater exploded upward as the Worzol monster reformed, growing larger and larger until its massive shadow swallowed the entire shipping yard. Its bladed wheels became enormous rotating disks along its shoulders. Its armor thickened into jagged siege plating. Three glowing eyes burned above the skyline.

Miles slowly looked upward.

Miles Rowan: Well, it looks like we found out if they can grow the darn things again.

Vire opened a Worzol portal behind himself.

Vire the Swift: Have fun.

He disappeared.

The giant Razorgait roared toward Arcadia City.

Ashlyn immediately raised her Oathlink.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Drakken!

Roland, Miles, and Lena followed.

Roland Vander: Hector!

Miles Rowan: Kestrel!

Lena Solis: Spiegel!

Across the night sky, four Stahlritter descended toward the outskirts of Arcadia City.

Drakken landed first, black armor gleaming beneath city lights as Ashlyn’s cockpit sealed around her. Hector arrived beside it, blue shield systems activating immediately around Roland. Kestrel swept down through the air with green wing-like armor panels flaring. Spiegel landed with golden force, scattering debris beneath its feet.

The Silver Templar watched from the ground as the four giant machines engaged the Worzol monster.

Ray did not summon anything.

He could not.

The blue Stahlritter was no longer his.

Hector belonged to Roland now.

And Ray hated how much that hurt.

Above him, the giant battle began. Razorgait charged with horrifying speed, its bladed wheels carving trenches through the industrial outskirts. Hector intercepted first, planting its shield against the monster’s charge. The impact drove the blue Stahlritter backward through a warehouse wall. Roland grunted inside the cockpit but kept the shield locked.

Roland Vander: Holding!

Kestrel launched from above, spear extended, striking Razorgait’s shoulder joint hard enough to spark but not break. The monster twisted and caught Kestrel with one spinning blade, hurling the green Stahlritter across several storage tanks.

Miles Rowan: Giant version got way worse!

Spiegel fired golden energy from both arms, blasting Razorgait’s legs and slowing its advance. Drakken came in from the side with Gravebrand’s giant form, slashing deep across the monster’s armor. The cut should have staggered it.

Instead, Razorgait turned and rammed Drakken directly through a line of empty freight cars.

Ashlyn cried out as her cockpit shook violently.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Miles isn't kidding! Be careful!

Lena’s hands moved across her controls.

Lena Solis: Feel like we're feeling the missing Stahlritter right about now.

Miles groaned.

Miles Rowan: It's bouncing around so much it's hard to keep up with. So the monster is a murder pinball. Good. Healthy design choice.

Roland’s voice remained disciplined.

Roland Vander: We need to immobilize it.

Hector projected blue restraint fields while Kestrel looped behind Razorgait and fired green cable lances into the creature’s shoulder wheels. Spiegel drove golden stakes into the pavement around its legs. Drakken surged forward with both swords ready.

For a moment, the plan worked.

Razorgait struggled against the combined restraints.

Ashlyn crossed the giant Oathrender and Gravebrand again inside Drakken’s hands.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Twin Judgment!

The energy began forming.

Then Razorgait snapped one bladed wheel free and tore through Kestrel’s cables, whipping the green Stahlritter into Hector. Both mechs crashed sideways. Spiegel’s stakes shattered next. The monster lunged toward Drakken before Ashlyn could complete the attack and slammed both shoulder blades into her guard.

Drakken flew backward.

The giant swords skidded across the ground in sparks.

Inside the cockpit, Ashlyn slammed against her harness.

Warning lights screamed.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Drakken, stay with me!

At the KED Building, Dorian Vale watched the battle feeds with growing alarm. Asher stood beside him, arms folded tightly as readings spiked across multiple screens. The red pedestal behind them remained dark, but one monitor began flashing with unstable Krieger resonance.

Dorian turned sharply.

Dorian Vale: Krieger is responding.

Asher’s eyes narrowed.

Asher: It's awake...for better or for worse. We don't have time to figure that out.

The red readings surged violently.

Dorian opened the communication channel.

Dorian Vale: Kishiranger, we are going to attempt to send Krieger to the field.

Ashlyn’s battered voice came through the speakers.

Kishi Black: Krieger? Is it awake?

Dorian hesitated.

Dorian Vale: It appears to be.

Asher looked toward the red pedestal as black cracks of energy began crawling across it.

Asher: Dorian, wait.

But the summoning sequence had already started.

In the battlefield outside Arcadia City, the sky above the fight tore open with crimson fire.

Krieger fell from the clouds like a burning meteor.

For one heartbeat, Ashlyn felt hope so sharp it hurt.

Then Krieger landed.

The red Stahlritter rose slowly from the crater.

Its armor was wrong.

Red-black fire crawled across its plates. Its once-noble gold trim had warped into jagged, thorn-like edges. Its visor glowed white-red with fury. The massive sword in its hand had lengthened into a crueler form, mirroring the nightmare version of Oathrender that Trace had wielded in his berserker state.

Inside Drakken, Ashlyn went cold.

Kishi Black: No...

Krieger turned toward Razorgait.

Then attacked.

It did not fight like a Stahlritter.

It fought like rage given a body.

Krieger slammed into Razorgait with enough force to knock the giant monster off its feet. Before Razorgait could recover, Krieger drove its corrupted blade through one shoulder wheel and ripped it free in a shower of sparks and black blood. The Worzol monster roared and struck back, but Krieger caught the attack, twisted the limb until armor split, and tore through the creature’s side with savage precision.

Miles watched from Kestrel’s cockpit in horror.

Miles Rowan: Krieger is fighting on its own?!

Lena’s face had gone pale.

Lena Solis: It’s acting like Trace did.

Roland stared, grim.

Roland Vander: The bond between knight and Stahlritter remains active.

Ashlyn whispered to herself.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace...

Krieger tore Razorgait apart.

The giant monster tried to flee toward the city, but Krieger chased it down, smashed it into the ground, and drove the corrupted blade through its core. Red-black fire erupted from inside the monster’s body, consuming it from within until Razorgait exploded across the outskirts in a massive blast of dark flame.

The Worzol monster was destroyed.

But Krieger did not stop.

It turned toward the other Stahlritter.

Hector raised its shield immediately.

Roland Vander: Defensive formation!

Krieger charged.

The berserk mech slammed directly into Hector hard enough to send the blue Stahlritter crashing through three buildings. Kestrel tried to intercept and got struck aside with one brutal backhand.

Spiegel unleashed volleys from Aymr.

Krieger walked through them.

Rain vaporized around its body from sheer heat.

Miles Rowan: What the hell happened to him?!

Lena Solis: That’s not Krieger anymore!

Inside Drakken, Ashlyn stared in horror.

Because despite everything—

She could feel him.

The connection remained.

Somewhere inside all that rage and agony—

Trace Mercer still existed, and his influence was reaching through Krieger.

Krieger turned toward Drakken.

The berserk mech raised Oathrender.

Ashlyn swallowed hard.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace! It’s me!

For one horrible second—

Nothing happened.

Then Krieger froze.

The mech trembled violently.

White light flickered inside its visor.

Krieger staggered backward.

The monstrous Stahlritter looked at Drakken silently while rain poured across both machines.

Then its systems finally shut down.

The giant mech collapsed to one knee.

Dormant.

Still.

The battlefield fell silent except for the rain.

Inside every cockpit, nobody spoke for several seconds.

Finally—

Miles Rowan: It stopped!

Ashlyn lowered her head.

Tears mixed with sweat across her face.

Ashlyn Westbrook: He's alive...he could feel me. He's...he's alive.

Roland watched her quietly from Hector’s cockpit.

The relief in her voice.

The affection.

The devotion.

All of it was unmistakable.

And despite himself—

Jealousy twisted inside his chest.

Hours later, the four Stahlritter slowly carried the dormant Krieger back toward Avalon City through the rain.

The storm had finally begun to weaken.

Ashlyn looked across the skyline through Drakken’s cockpit glass.

And for the first time since Trace disappeared—

She allowed herself to smile.

Because somewhere...Trace Mercer was still fighting to come home.

To Be Continued...

Last edited by Machismo (5/20/2026 10:29 pm)

Machismo · 5/21/2026 11:31 pm

Episode 17: Black Ehrvolt Rising

Ashlyn Westbrook struck the reinforced target dummy with a hard right cross that sent a ripple through the metal frame and made the Ehrvolt gauges on the nearby wall jump in response. She was dressed in dark training clothes, her face flushed with effort, and sweat ran along her temples as she pulled back, reset her stance, and struck again before the automated system had fully finished recalibrating. The dummy rocked backward on its hydraulic base, servos whining as it absorbed the impact and swung a padded counterarm toward her ribs. Ashlyn slipped the blow, drove her elbow into the dummy’s center mass, and followed with a spinning kick that landed with enough force to make one of the observation monitors buzz. Black Ehrvolt flickered around her leg for a second, not fully formed into armor or weaponry, but visible enough that the system registered it as a combat surge.

Dorian Vale sat at the monitoring station with one hand buried in his hair and the other hovering near the emergency shutdown switch. Miles Rowan was perched on a bench nearby with the expression of a man who knew he should say something supportive but was also very afraid that Ashlyn might decide the next training dummy was anyone currently holding a snack.

Ashlyn did not notice him at first. She drove forward again, ducking under another mechanical strike and landing two fast punches into the dummy’s abdomen before stepping close and slamming her forearm across its neck plate. Her breathing was heavy, but her movements were sharp and controlled, the result of weeks of fighting monsters, generals, corrupted knights, and nightmares that had no courtesy for anyone’s learning curve. She was tired, but she did not let herself slow down. The training system chirped a warning as her Ehrvolt spiked again, and the black light around her hands sparked.

Dorian Vale: Ashlyn, I am saying this with deep respect for your commitment and a profound fear of being ignored, but the training room is beginning to make noises that expensive equipment should not make.

Ashlyn hit the dummy again.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Reset it.

Dorian looked at the monitor, then at the dummy, then at her.

Ashlyn wiped sweat from her chin with the back of her wrist and stared at the dummy while it straightened itself again. She was clearly listening, but she did not turn toward them. Her eyes remained fixed on the target as if she could see someone else standing in its place. Ray knew that look. Everyone in the room knew that look. It had been appearing more often since Trace Mercer vanished, and none of them had found the right words to loosen its hold on her.

Roland Vander stood near the entrance to the training chamber holding a tablet full of reconstruction reports he had completely stopped reading three minutes ago.

Because Ashlyn looked incredible.

She was drenched in sweat, breathing hard, moving with furious focus while black Ehrvolt pulsed around her body in violent flashes, and Roland Vander, polished heir to the Vander family legacy, public figure, knight, and usually composed aristocrat, had become catastrophically distracted by a woman punching machinery with emotionally devastating commitment.

Ashlyn slammed the dummy again.

Roland forgot to blink.

Miles slowly lowered his bag of chips.

Miles Rowan: Oh no.

Roland straightened instantly.

Roland Vander: I was observing the training exercise.

Miles Rowan: Buddy, you were observing her like a Victorian poet seeing ankles for the first time.

Roland cleared his throat with tremendous dignity.

Roland Vander: Your imagination is...vivid.

Ashlyn finally turned around.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Roland?

Roland’s face betrayed him for exactly one second before his composure returned.

Roland Vander: I came to see how training was progressing.

Ashlyn grabbed a towel from the nearby bench and wiped sweat from her face.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Slowly.

She looked back toward the damaged dummy.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Too slowly.

Roland’s expression softened immediately. He knew that tone.

The tone of someone trying to outwork grief because sitting still with it felt unbearable.

Ashlyn tossed the towel aside and stepped back toward the center of the training floor.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Reset it again.

Miles looked toward the dummy.

Miles Rowan: I'm so sorry this is happening to you.

Ashlyn attacked instantly.

Her strikes came faster now, each blow carrying more Ehrvolt than the last. The air around her fists distorted faintly with pressure every time she hit the machine. She ducked beneath another counterattack, drove both palms into the dummy’s chest, and unleashed a burst of dark energy that sent the entire unit skidding backward across the chamber floor.

Warning sirens chirped.

Roland Vander: Ashlyn.

She ignored him.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Again!

The dummy reset.

Ashlyn charged.

Roland crossed the room and caught her wrist before she could strike again.

Black Ehrvolt crackled sharply around her arm.

Ashlyn looked up immediately.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Let go.

Roland Vander: Your Ehrvolt is surging too aggressively.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Good.

Roland Vander: No. Not good.

Ashlyn pulled her arm free.

Ashlyn Westbrook: I need to be ready the next time we see the Worzol Generals or that Silver Templar. I will get answers as to where Trace is!

Roland watched her carefully.

Ashlyn Westbrook: He knows. I know he does. And next time I see him, I’m going to make him answer me.

The room quieted.

Miles slowly sat up straighter.

Roland lowered his voice.

Roland Vander: You are trying to force your Ehrvolt higher through anger.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Maybe anger works.

Roland Vander: Only until it starts working on you instead.

Ashlyn looked away for a moment, jaw tightening.

Ashlyn Westbrook: I can’t just do nothing.

Roland’s expression softened.

Roland Vander: I know.

And he really did.

Because Roland Vander knew exactly what it felt like to carry the expectation that if you were simply stronger, smarter, faster, or better prepared, then maybe people would stop disappearing from your life.

Far across Avalon City, Lena Solis stood beneath the stone arches of Avalon Academy’s oldest courtyard staring directly at the chapel.

The building sat at the edge of campus like a memory the academy had built around instead of replacing. Tall gray stone walls rose beneath stained glass windows that reflected the cloudy morning sky. Ivy crept across sections of the masonry despite constant maintenance requests to remove it, and the old bell tower cast a long shadow over the surrounding walkways.

Students passed nearby without paying it much attention.

Lena could not stop staring at it.

Because now she could feel it.

There was pressure beneath the chapel. Old pressure. Ancient pressure. Her Zauberer senses had been growing stronger every day, and now the energy beneath the academy pressed against her awareness like a heartbeat under stone.

Lena Solis: There’s no way it’s this obvious.

Maribel Thorn: Most secrets survive because people decide obvious answers sound ridiculous.

Lena turned instantly.

Maribel Thorn stood a few feet away holding several library books against her ample chest, smiling pleasantly like the harmless academy librarian everyone assumed she was.

Lena felt the lie immediately.

Lena Solis: Malvora.

Maribel smiled wider.

Maribel Thorn: Impressive. Much better. Your powers are awakening now that you know. Sometimes the awareness is all it takes.

Lena crossed her arms.

Lena Solis: I wish I wasn't aware.

Maribel Thorn: That can't be true. Doesn't this feel right? This is who you are meant to be.

The words unsettled Lena more than any threat could have.

Because part of her understood exactly what Malvora meant.

The world felt different now.

Lena hated how natural it was becoming.

Lena Solis: A Zauberer.

Maribel Thorn: Yes.

She sounded pleased.

Lena narrowed her eyes.

Lena Solis: Why are you helping me? Why didn't you try and kill us during the Grail fight?

Maribel’s expression shifted slightly.

Lena Solis: And why did you stop Ashlyn from rushing in? You could’ve let everything fall apart right there.

Maribel looked toward the chapel doors.

For the first time since Lena had known her, the witch’s smile faded into something genuinely sad.

Maribel Thorn: Because a fellow Zauberer had already suffered enough that day.

Lena blinked.

Lena Solis: Fellow Zauberer?

Maribel’s eyes gleamed faintly violet.

Maribel Thorn: We're tied together, more strongly than you know.

Lena stepped closer.

Lena Solis: What are you to me?

Maribel smiled again, softer this time.

Maribel Thorn: A difficult question.

Lena Solis: Then give me a difficult answer.

The wind shifted through the courtyard.

Maribel looked at Lena with an expression that suddenly carried far too much familiarity.

Maribel Thorn: Blood remembers.

Lena’s heartbeat quickened immediately.

Lena Solis: Blood?

Maribel laughed quietly.

Maribel Thorn: Ohhh, there it is. Curiosity. Very good.

Lena Solis: I want to know.

Maribel only smiled.

Maribel Thorn: Careful, little Zauberer. Pull too hard on old threads and eventually something ancient pulls back.

Lena stared at her.

Because there was affection hidden inside the witch’s voice.

That terrified her more than anything else.

Lena Solis: Why help me at all?

Maribel glanced toward the chapel.

Lena looked toward the chapel again.

Lena Solis: There’s something beneath it.

Maribel Thorn: Yes.

Lena Solis: What?

Maribel stepped backward slowly.

Maribel Thorn: What you're looking for. What I'm looking for.

Lena took a step forward.

Lena Solis: Wait—

But Maribel Thorn was already gone.

Only the faint scent of violet smoke remained beneath the chapel arches.

Downtown Avalon City moved in careful organized patterns around Roland Vander’s limousine as it traveled through the financial district beneath armed escort vehicles. Reconstruction crews worked behind barricades near damaged intersections while drones hovered overhead mapping structural repairs across the skyline.

Inside the limo, Roland sat across from several city officials while holographic maps projected defensive infrastructure plans across the central table.

Councilwoman Hale: The mayor’s office agrees Avalon needs stronger emergency systems, but your proposal essentially turns half the city into a military evacuation grid.

Roland Vander: No. It turns the city into somewhere people can survive the next attack.

He adjusted the holographic projection.

Golden lines spread beneath the city model.

Roland Vander: Reinforced subway corridors. Shock barriers beneath high population zones. Emergency shelters integrated into public structures. Avalon cannot keep pretending these attacks are isolated incidents.

One of the officials sighed heavily.

Councilman Everett: People are already afraid.

Roland’s expression hardened slightly.

Roland Vander: Then give them protection instead of comforting lies.

He looked out the window briefly.

And immediately thought about Ashlyn again.

Sweating.

Determined.

Angry.

Beautiful.

Roland straightened abruptly.

The councilman frowned.

Councilman Everett: Mr. Vander?

Roland Vander: Apologies. Continue.

Before anyone could speak further, the front security vehicle exploded sideways.

The entire limousine rocked violently.

The driver shouted.

Something enormous landed in the middle of the avenue ahead of them with enough force to crater the pavement.

Then Garrikus hit the limo.

The impact flipped the entire vehicle sideways through the intersection in a storm of screaming metal and shattered glass. The limousine rolled twice before slamming upside down against a traffic divider. Airbags deployed instantly while sparks burst from damaged electronics inside the cabin.

Outside, civilians screamed. The driver and the council members escaped.

Roland shoved himself free of the wreckage just as a massive armored hand grabbed the overturned limo and lifted it into the air.

Garrikus stood in the middle of downtown Avalon holding the destroyed limousine like scrap metal.

Garrikus: Vander blood.

He hurled the limo aside.

It smashed through a bus stop in an explosion of debris.

Roland wiped blood from his brow and stood fully.

Roland Vander: You continue to make terrible first impressions.

Garrikus dragged his mace across the street.

Sparks screamed behind it.

Garrikus: Your family disgusts me.

Roland narrowed his eyes.

Roland Vander: That seems excessive.

Garrikus: Once, your ancestor stood near true greatness. A warrior. But your line became softer with every generation. Wealth. Politics. Prestige. Pale imitations wearing the skin of a better man.

Roland Vander: I have had a difficult morning already.

He raised his Buckler.

Roland Vander: Knowledge Guarded. Kishiranger, arise!

Blue armor erupted around him in brilliant light.

Garrikus laughed darkly.

Garrikus: There you are.

The two collided instantly.

The shockwave shattered nearby windows.

Back at the KED Building, alarms erupted across the monitors.

Miles nearly fell off the couch.

Miles Rowan: Oh COME ON!

Ashlyn immediately grabbed her Buckler.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Garrikus?

Miles looked at the screen.

Miles Rowan: And Roland’s limo got absolutely destroyed.

Lena entered the room just in time to see Garrikus hammering Roland through the side of a delivery truck.

Lena Solis: Our new member is in trouble! We'd be terrible teammates to leave him hanging!

Ashlyn was already moving.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Let’s go.

By the time the team reached downtown Avalon, the financial district had become a warzone. Roland fought aggressively across the ruined avenue, blue Ehrvolt flashing against Garrikus’s crushing mace strikes while civilians fled between overturned vehicles and shattered storefronts.

The moment Ashlyn arrived, she saw him.

The Silver Templar.

Standing atop a distant rooftop.

Watching.

Ashlyn’s heart tightened immediately.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You.

The Silver Templar remained silent.

Garrikus roared and swung his mace downward toward Roland.

The Kishirangers transformed instantly.

All Three: Kishiranger arise!

Miles launched himself forward first, Gungnir spinning through the air in a green arc that struck Garrikus across the shoulder. Lena followed immediately behind him, Aymr crashing against the general’s side while Roland attacked from the front with rapid silver strikes.

Ashlyn hit hardest of all.

Black Ehrvolt exploded around her fists as she slammed into Garrikus with enough force to crack the street beneath them.

Garrikus: There is the wound.

Ashlyn attacked again.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Shut up!

She hammered Garrikus backward with increasingly violent strikes while the others coordinated around her. Lena noticed the change immediately. Ashlyn’s Ehrvolt was climbing too fast again, darker and sharper every time she hit him.

Roland noticed too.

Roland Vander: Ashlyn, pull back!

Ashlyn Westbrook: No!

Her eyes kept drifting toward the Silver Templar.

Toward the rooftop.

Toward the silent silver figure who knew something about Trace Mercer and refused to speak.

The team regrouped together as Garrikus shoved them backward with a massive shockwave that tore apart the street around them.

Lena Solis: Combined strike! Let's give our energy to Ashlyn for the big finish!

Ashlyn raised her weapons immediately.

Black Ehrvolt surged violently around her armor.

Roland stepped beside her.

Blue energy joined the black.

Miles and Lena fed their power into the attack from either side.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Final Vow!

All Four: Twin Judgment!

The combined blast erupted forward in a massive cross-shaped storm of energy.

It swallowed Garrikus completely.

The avenue exploded with light.

Windows shattered for blocks.

Cars lifted from the ground.

The team held the attack as long as possible until finally the blast faded into drifting smoke.

Silence followed.

Then heavy footsteps emerged from the smoke.

Garrikus walked out.

Still standing.

Armor cracked.

Nothing more.

The team froze.

Miles Rowan: ...That...sucks.

Garrikus rolled one shoulder slowly.

Garrikus: You do not understand how weak you truly are.

His voice thundered across the avenue.

Garrikus: The first Kishirangers fought true monsters in burning kingdoms while standing atop mountains of dead. You wield wounded hearts and call it power.

Garrikus pointed directly at Ashlyn.

Garrikus: You especially. Your pain is louder than your oath.

Ashlyn took a step forward.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Fight me again and find out.

Garrikus laughed darkly.

Then vanished into a portal.

The moment he disappeared, Ashlyn turned toward the rooftop.

Toward the Silver Templar.

And ran.

Ashlyn Westbrook: WAIT!

She launched herself upward across the rooftops while the Silver Templar retreated silently through the rain beginning to fall over Avalon City.

Ashlyn landed hard across from him.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Where is Trace?!

No response.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You know something!

Still silence.

Ashlyn fired.

The Silver Templar blocked the shot instantly with his blade.

Ashlyn attacked again.

And again.

Each blast stronger than the last.

Black Ehrvolt began twisting unnaturally around her armor.

The Silver Templar stepped backward cautiously.

Ashlyn screamed.

Ashlyn Westbrook: ANSWER ME!

Her armor distorted visibly.

Roland landed behind her immediately.

Roland Vander: Ashlyn stop!

She barely heard him.

The Silver Templar vanished into the rain.

Ashlyn tried to follow.

Roland caught her arm.

Ashlyn spun violently and nearly struck him.

Black Ehrvolt exploded around her.

Roland’s eyes widened.

Then he tore the Buckler from her waist.

The transformation shattered instantly.

Ashlyn collapsed to her knees in the rain.

Roland knelt beside her breathing hard.

Roland Vander: The Black Knight armor is not cursed.

Ashlyn looked up weakly.

Roland Vander: But Ehrvolt reflects the heart of the bearer. If your Ehrvolt fills with hatred and malice, the armor WILL answer that too.

Rain poured across the rooftop.

Ashlyn trembled.

Then finally broke.

Ashlyn Westbrook: I miss him.

Roland stayed silent.

Ashlyn lowered her head as tears mixed with rainwater.

Roland closed his eyes briefly.

Later that night, the KED Building sat quiet beneath the storm.

The team gathered inside the common room, exhausted and bruised from the battle.

Ashlyn finally looked around at all of them.

Ashlyn Westbrook: We can’t keep doing this halfway.

The room quieted immediately.

Ashlyn Westbrook: We need to fully trust each other. No more secrets. No more hiding things because we think we’re protecting the team.

Miles looked down immediately.

Thinking about the guild.

Thinking about everything he still hadn’t told them.

Then Lena suddenly stood.

Lena Solis: Fine.

Everyone looked toward her.

Lena Solis: Why not? What have I got to lose...besides everything. I'm a Zauberer.

Miles nearly dropped his drink.

Miles Rowan: EXCUSE ME?

To Be Continued...

Last edited by Machismo (5/21/2026 11:32 pm)

Machismo · Yesterday 2:37 am

Episode 18: Belly of the Beast

Rain battered the windows of the KED Building while thunder rolled over Avalon City in long, distant waves that seemed to shake the skyline itself. The storm had settled over the city hours ago and showed no signs of breaking, draping every tower, street, and alleyway in silver rainwater and reflected neon. Storms had been plaguing Avalon City more and more since he was abducted, and Ashlyn had definitely noticed. Inside the KED headquarters, however, the atmosphere was heavier than the weather. The revelation Lena Solis had dropped into the center of the room still lingered there like a pressure no one quite knew how to release.

A Zauberer.

The others had barely moved since she admitted it. Ashlyn sat at the central table with her arms folded tightly across her chest while her Oath Buckler rested near her untouched cup of coffee. Roland leaned against the far wall in silence, his blue jacket draped over one shoulder after returning from patrol duty, while Miles sat backward in a chair with both arms folded across the backrest, staring at Lena with the expression of someone trying to decide whether the situation was terrifying or somehow perfectly logical by Avalon standards.

Lena herself stood near the main monitor wall with her arms crossed tightly, trying very hard not to look nervous and failing in subtle ways only people who knew her well would notice. Her shoulders were stiffer than usual. Her eyes kept shifting toward Ashlyn before immediately shifting away again.

Finally, Miles broke the silence.

Miles Rowan: Okay, so Lena...is a wizard.

Lena groaned softly and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Lena Solis: I did not “become” a wizard, Miles.

Miles Rowan: You said Zauberer. That's a fancy word for wizard...or WITCH!

Lena Solis: It’s a bloodline attunement to Sanctum energy and dimensional pathways tied to ancient disciplines from Avalon’s early era.

Miles blinked.

Miles Rowan: What?

Roland’s expression remained thoughtful.

Roland Vander: Malvora confirmed it for you?

Lena nodded slowly.

Lena Solis: She hinted at it first. I thought she was messing with me. I wanted to believe she was messing with me. Then I found one of the old books hidden from me by my mother. It reacted to me.

Miles suddenly pointed toward her.

Miles Rowan: THAT’S the book you’ve been reading every night.

Lena looked annoyed.

Lena Solis: You noticed the book?

Miles Rowan: Lena, it had giant glowing symbols on the cover.

Lena Solis: That's a lot of books we've been reading lately.

Miles Rowan: I have...attention...to details.

Ashlyn had remained quiet through most of the exchange, but now she finally looked up.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Why didn’t you tell me?

The room quieted immediately.

Lena’s expression softened.

Lena Solis: Ashlyn...

Ashlyn Westbrook: We’ve known each other for years. You knew how bad things have been lately. Trace is gone. Ray betrayed us. Everything keeps falling apart around us and somehow you were carrying this alone the entire time.

Lena lowered her gaze.

Lena Solis: That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.

Ashlyn frowned.

Ashlyn Westbrook: What?

Lena Solis: Because you were already drowning.

The words landed heavily.

Lena stepped away from the monitor wall slowly.

Lena Solis: You were trying to hold the team together after Trace disappeared. You were blaming yourself for things that weren’t your fault. You were trying not to completely break after Ray broke our trust. Every day you looked more exhausted than the day before, and I couldn’t stand the idea of adding another impossible thing on top of all of it.

Ashlyn looked down at the table.

Lena Solis: I kept telling myself I’d wait until things calmed down, but things in Avalon never calm down anymore.

Thunder rolled outside.

Lena folded her arms tighter.

Lena Solis: I know how this sounds. I know secrets are exactly what destroyed trust with Ray, and if you want me to leave the team, I’ll understand. But I couldn’t hide it anymore.

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Then Ashlyn stood.

She crossed the room slowly while Lena braced herself for the worst.

Instead, Ashlyn pulled her into a hug.

Lena froze immediately.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Lena... you idiot.

Lena blinked.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You’ve always been my friend. You’ve always been someone I trust. Nothing about that changes because of this.

Miles pointed upward.

Miles Rowan: Some things definitely change, but not our trust in you.

Ashlyn Westbrook: I trust you, Lena. I always will.

Lena’s eyes widened slightly.

The tension she had been carrying all night finally eased just enough for her shoulders to lower.

Lena Solis: Thank you.

Ashlyn stepped back.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Besides...maybe we can use this.

Lena blinked.

Lena Solis: Use it?

Ashlyn Westbrook: You said you can feel Sanctum energy now. If there’s something hidden beneath Avalon Academy, then maybe your abilities can help us find answers.

Lena’s expression shifted immediately.

Lena Solis: Actually...that’s something I wanted to talk to all of you about.

Roland straightened slightly.

Roland Vander: Go on.

Lena moved toward the main holographic table and activated a projection of Avalon Academy.

Lena Solis: Ever since my senses awakened, I’ve been able to feel energy movement beneath the city. Not just Ehrvolt. Something older. Sanctum currents. Spirit veins.

Golden lines spread beneath the holographic map.

Lena Solis: The strongest concentration I’ve found is under the academy chapel.

Ashlyn immediately looked up.

Ashlyn Westbrook: The chapel.

Lena Solis: There’s something down there. Something huge. Not metaphorically huge. I mean the amount of ehrvolt under that building is insane.

Roland crossed his arms.

Roland Vander: Then we investigate immediately.

Ashlyn nodded.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Agreed.

The storm had worsened by the time the four of them arrived at Avalon Academy.

Rain hammered against the stone walkways while wind swept through the courtyard hard enough to send fallen leaves skidding across the ground. The chapel stood at the edge of campus beneath the flashing storm clouds, ancient and unmoving despite the weather raging around it. Light glowed faintly behind its stained-glass windows, warm against the cold silver rain.

The four Kishirangers walked through the courtyard together in civilian clothes, though every one of them carried their Oath Bucklers hidden beneath jackets or belts. Ashlyn moved slightly ahead of the others while Lena kept glancing toward the chapel floor as though she could physically see through the stone.

Miles Rowan: This place somehow got creepier in the rain.

Lena Solis: Because you can feel it now too, can’t you?

Miles paused. Then frowned.

Miles Rowan: ...Okay I hate that you’re right.

The moment they entered the chapel, the atmosphere changed.

The storm noise became muted beneath the ancient stone ceiling. Candles flickered along the walls beside old Avalon carvings that most students probably assumed were decorative. The air smelled faintly of incense and wet stone.

Father Lughbow stood near the altar waiting for them.

As though he had known they were coming.

The old priest smiled warmly.

Father Lughbow: Ah. Our young protectors.

Ashlyn’s eyes narrowed immediately.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You knew we’d come?

Father Lughbow: Children burdened by purpose inevitably arrive at my door.

Roland stepped forward politely.

Roland Vander: Father Lughbow. We hoped to discuss several concerns regarding the academy chapel and its connection to Der Gralsbund.

The priest smiled pleasantly.

Father Lughbow: Such serious accusations for such a stormy evening.

Miles looked around.

Miles Rowan: Okay everyone’s pretending to be polite but I’m just going to say the atmosphere in here is absolutely terrible.

Lughbow laughed softly.

Father Lughbow: Honesty. A refreshing trait.

Ashlyn crossed her arms.

Ashlyn Westbrook: We know Der Gralsbund has been operating in Avalon for years. We know you’ve been hiding things beneath this academy.

Lughbow’s smile thinned slightly.

Father Lughbow: And yet knowledge without understanding remains dangerous.

Lena stepped forward.

Lena Solis: There’s a lot of energy beneath this building.

For the first time, Father Lughbow’s eyes sharpened.

Father Lughbow: Ah.

His gaze lingered on Lena.

Father Lughbow: A Witch.

Lena stiffened.

Lena Solis: You knew?

Father Lughbow: Of course. You think we weren't trained to perceive your kind? I would expect the others, but Zauberer Witches don't tend to visit us...willingly.

Miles groaned.

Miles Rowan: You don't need to be talking to her like that!

Lughbow ignored him.

Father Lughbow: The Zauberer bloodlines have always been carefully curated, and we've done our best to keep an eye on them. We know more about you than you do.

Ashlyn stepped closer.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Can we stop messing around?

The priest sighed softly.

Father Lughbow: Very well.

His warmth disappeared.

Completely.

The shift was subtle but immediate.

Suddenly, Father Lughbow no longer looked like a kindly priest.

He looked like a man carrying centuries of dangerous authority.

Father Lughbow: You children are interfering with powers you cannot possibly understand.

The room fell silent.

Father Lughbow: Der Gralsbund exists to contain threats beyond human civilization’s ability to survive.

He looked directly at Ashlyn.

Father Lughbow: The Kishirangers are not prepared for that. They have failed in the past.

Ashlyn’s voice hardened.

Ashlyn Westbrook: And if we fail now, it's because you kidnapped Trace Mercer! You stabbed him in the back and dragged him away in chains like an animal!

Lughbow’s expression remained calm.

Father Lughbow: The Blazing Oath was unstable.

Ashlyn stepped forward immediately.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Don’t call him that.

Father Lughbow: His Ehrvolt became unstable by the curse inside him. Der Gralsbund contained the situation before catastrophe spread further. You were letting a ticking time bomb walk free!

Ashlyn’s hands clenched.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Where is he?

Lughbow smiled faintly.

Father Lughbow: You know where he is.

Ashlyn nearly moved across the room right then.

Roland grabbed her arm gently before she could.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Tell me.

Father Lughbow: And if I did? Would you truly have the resolve to retrieve him?

The chapel lights flickered.

Father Lughbow: Do you understand what he has become?

Ashlyn glared at him.

Ashlyn Westbrook: I don’t care.

Father Lughbow: You should.

His voice lowered.

Father Lughbow: Because if the Kishirangers continue interfering with Der Gralsbund operations, you may find yourselves locked away beside him.

The threat hung heavily in the chapel.

Miles stepped forward slightly.

Miles Rowan: Okay wow, that got menacing and threatening real fast.

Lughbow’s expression never changed.

Father Lughbow: Evil is a matter of perspective. Containment is necessity.

Ashlyn’s Ehrvolt pulsed faintly beneath her jacket.

Roland noticed immediately.

Roland Vander: Ashlyn.

She looked away sharply.

Ashlyn Westbrook: We’re leaving.

Father Lughbow smiled once more.

Father Lughbow: I'm sure I'll see you again soon.

Ashlyn turned back toward him one final time.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You will.

Then the four of them left the chapel.

Rain hammered against the academy courtyard while thunder shook the sky overhead.

The moment they were outside, Miles threw both hands upward.

Miles Rowan: Cool! Great! So the creepy priest absolutely has Trace imprisoned somewhere under the city.

Roland remained thoughtful.

Roland Vander: He wanted us frightened.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Too bad.

Her eyes burned with determination.

Ashlyn Westbrook: We’re getting him back.

Lena stopped walking suddenly.

The others turned toward her.

Lena Solis: I think I know how.

They stared.

Lena hesitated only briefly before continuing.

Lena Solis: Sanctum energy doesn’t move randomly. It travels through spirit veins beneath Avalon. Ancient pathways. Think of them like... dimensional circulation systems.

Miles blinked.

Miles Rowan: That sounds...cool.

Lena Solis: I think I can connect one point to another through those pathways.

Ashlyn frowned.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Connect them how?

Lena took a breath.

Lena Solis: By traveling through Sanctum space itself.

Silence.

Then Miles slowly grinned.

Miles Rowan: That sounds AWESOME.

Roland looked considerably more cautious.

Roland Vander: It also sounds extremely dangerous.

Lena Solis: Probably. But if Der Gralsbund has hidden facilities beneath Avalon, the spirit veins might bypass conventional entrances.

Ashlyn stepped closer immediately.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You can get us inside.

Lena Solis: I think so.

Ashlyn grabbed her shoulders.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Then we do it.

Meanwhile, back inside the chapel, Father Lughbow stood silently near the altar.

Father Lughbow: You may stop hiding now.

A silver figure stepped from behind one of the stone pillars.

The Silver Templar.

Ray Matthews remained silent beneath the armor.

Lughbow looked toward him calmly.

Father Lughbow: They will come.

The Silver Templar said nothing.

Father Lughbow: The question is not whether they will attempt to retrieve the Blazing Oath.

Lughbow’s gaze sharpened.

Father Lughbow: The question is what you intend to do when they arrive.

The Silver Templar’s fists tightened slightly.

But still he did not answer.

Far beyond Avalon City, inside the endless darkness of the Worzol Dimension, Vantrex stood upon the black throne overlooking the abyssal fortress.

Purple lightning tore across the skies overhead while rivers of crimson energy flowed beneath towering iron bridges and jagged stone spires. The air itself screamed faintly.

Garrikus knelt before the throne.

Malvora stood nearby beneath swirling violet robes.

Vire leaned lazily against one of the black pillars spinning a dagger between his fingers.

Vantrex slowly rose.

Dark energy rolled outward from him in waves.

Vantrex: At last.

His voice echoed across the fortress.

Vantrex: My strength has fully returned.

The fortress trembled.

Vantrex spread one armored hand.

Vantrex: The Grail...I want the grail.

Malvora smiled faintly.

Malvora: Der Gralsbund continues hiding it beneath Avalon.

Vantrex: Then we take it.

His red eyes burned brighter.

Vantrex: Gather the armies.

Garrikus rose immediately.

Garrikus: It will be done.

Vantrex: All three generals will lead the assault personally.

Vire grinned immediately.

Vire: Finally! Time to stop screwing around!

Dark portals erupted throughout the fortress as hordes of Dreadlings began gathering beneath the command towers.

Vantrex looked toward the dimensional horizon.

Vantrex: Tonight, Der Gralsbund remembers fear.

Several hours later, beneath an abandoned overpass near the outskirts of Avalon City, the Kishirangers prepared for infiltration.

Lena had drawn complex symbols across the ground in glowing gold chalk while the others stood nearby fully transformed.

Blue, black, green, and yellow armor gleamed beneath the storm-lit night.

Roland held the Shield Vanguard at the ready.

Miles rested Gungnir across one shoulder.

Lena gripped Aymr while golden energy flowed through the symbols around them.

Ashlyn stood closest to the center of the formation.

Every second without Trace felt unbearable now that they finally knew he was alive.

Lena concentrated carefully.

Lena Solis: Once we enter Sanctum space, stay close to me. If you lose connection to the pathway, you could become trapped.

Miles raised one hand.

Miles Rowan: Extremely important follow-up question.

Lena Solis: What?

Miles Rowan: Do we ALL have to put ourselves in danger?

Roland sighed.

Roland Vander: Miles.

Before Lena could answer, another voice echoed nearby.

Asher: Not just you.

The team turned immediately.

Asher stepped from the shadows.

The ancient’s scarf shifted and burned in the storm wind.

Ashlyn stared.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Asher?

He looked toward her quietly.

Asher: If you intend to save my old friend, then I will accompany you.

Ashlyn’s expression softened immediately.

Ashlyn Westbrook: You know where they’re keeping him?

Asher nodded once.

Asher: I know enough.

Miles looked between them.

Miles Rowan: If you're willing to help us now, how come you haven't been backing us up this whole time?

Asher: My power comes at a cost. One I would rather discuss later.

His gaze darkened slightly.

Asher: For now, focus on surviving what waits below Avalon.

Lena finished the final Sanctum symbol.

Golden energy erupted around the formation.

The ground beneath them dissolved into light.

And suddenly the world vanished.

The Kishirangers moved through endless darkness threaded with glowing rivers of gold energy that stretched infinitely in every direction. Ancient symbols drifted through the void while distant whispers echoed from somewhere impossibly far away.

Ahead of them, a massive golden fracture appeared.

Lena pointed toward it.

Lena Solis: There.

The group stepped through.

And emerged inside darkness.

Ancient stone stretched endlessly around them.

Massive dungeon corridors extended beneath Avalon Academy deeper than any structure should physically exist. The ceilings towered overhead supported by enormous carved pillars while old Sanctum symbols glowed faintly across cracked stone walls.

Water dripped somewhere far away.

The air smelled ancient.

Miles stared upward.

Miles Rowan: ...Okay what the hell?

Ashlyn slowly looked around.

Ashlyn Westbrook: This is under the academy?

Asher: Avalon was built atop many things.

Suddenly a growl echoed through the darkness.

Everyone froze.

Something moved between the pillars.

Then it charged.

A monstrous creature burst from the shadows.

Its body looked vaguely humanoid beneath layers of twisted bone armor while black tendrils hung from its spine and glowing green eyes burned deep within a skull-like face.

The monster screamed.

The Kishirangers transformed instantly.

All Four: Kishiranger arise!

The dungeon exploded into combat.

The creature slammed into Roland first, claws screeching across the Shield Vanguard as sparks burst outward. Kishi Blue held his ground while Kishi Black launched herself forward from the side, black Ehrvolt trailing behind Oathrender and Gravebrand.

Kishi Black struck the creature across the chest.

The monster shrieked and retaliated immediately.

Kishi Green intercepted it mid-lunge.

Gungnir spun through the darkness in a green arc before driving into the monster’s shoulder hard enough to pin it briefly against one of the pillars.

Kishi Yellow leapt upward.

Aymr crashed downward in a burst of gold Ehrvolt that shattered the stone beneath the creature’s feet.

The monster roared.

Asher transformed.

Crimson Rider energy erupted through the dungeon.

Kamen Rider Ash appeared beside the creature in a blur of motion before driving a brutal kick into its skull. Ash pulled out the Ashen Revolver and fired several shots into the beast as it staggered backward.

Kishi Black stepped up. Black Ehrvolt erupted from her weapons in a crescent slash that tore through the creature completely.

The monster dissolved into black ash.

Silence returned slowly.

Kishi Green stared at the remains.

Miles Rowan: Was that from the Worzol Dimension?

Ash shook his head.

Asher: No.

The Rider looked deeper into the dungeon.

Asher: There are more evils in this land than you understand.

Kishi Yellow frowned.

Lena Solis: Then what WAS it?

Asher: A remnant of the Great War.

His voice lowered.

Asher: Something ancient left buried beneath Avalon.

The group moved deeper through the dungeon.

The corridors stretched endlessly beneath the academy with entire ruined chambers branching outward into darkness. Some areas looked almost cathedral-like while others resembled forgotten prisons.

Ashlyn’s frustration slowly grew.

Ashlyn Westbrook: This doesn’t feel like a Der Gralsbund base.

Asher nodded.

Asher: Because it isn’t.

The group stopped.

Asher: This place predates them.

Miles groaned loudly.

Miles Rowan: We infiltrated the wrong horrifying underground nightmare?

Lena suddenly stopped moving.

Her eyes widened.

Lena Solis: Wait.

Golden Sanctum energy pulsed faintly around her hands.

Lena Solis: No.

She pointed deeper ahead.

Lena Solis: The energy’s getting stronger.

The others immediately focused.

Far ahead, faint white lights glowed beyond the final ancient corridor.

The dungeon abruptly ended.

And a massive high-tech facility began.

The contrast was staggering.

Ancient stone gave way to polished steel corridors, glowing monitors, reinforced blast doors, and armed Der Gralsbund soldiers moving through the complex.

Ashlyn stared.

Ashlyn Westbrook: We found it.

Asher nodded.

Asher: The dungeon was the back path.

Roland’s eyes narrowed.

Roland Vander: Which means we currently possess the element of surprise.

The infiltration began carefully.

The Kishirangers moved silently through maintenance corridors trying to avoid patrol routes. Twice they barely avoided detection when Der Gralsbund squads passed nearby.

Ashlyn’s heart pounded harder with every corridor.

Because she could feel him now.

Trace.

His Ehrvolt pulsed somewhere ahead like a raging wildfire beneath the facility.

Eventually they reached a massive containment chamber.

And stopped.

Trace Mercer knelt inside.

Chains of glowing metal bound him to the center platform while black and crimson Ehrvolt surged violently around his body. Dark flames were crackling across his skin while his breathing came rough and uneven.

Ashlyn’s eyes widened immediately.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace.

The others stared.

His Ehrvolt felt enormous now, wild and violent.

Lena stepped closer slowly.

Lena Solis: His power is so much stronger.

Her expression darkened.

Lena Solis: But there’s something else mixed inside it.

Asher lowered his head.

Asher: The curse.

Trace suddenly looked upward.

His eyes were pure white.

The chains strained instantly.

Ashlyn moved toward him anyway.

Roland Vander: Ashlyn wait—

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace.

His breathing became harsher.

Violent memories surged behind his eyes.

The curse fought inside him constantly.

Ashlyn reached him slowly.

Ashlyn Westbrook: It’s me.

Trace growled. The chains snapped.

At that exact moment alarms erupted throughout the facility.

Facility Alarm: Unauthorized intrusion detected.

Der Gralsbund soldiers flooded the corridor.

The others transformed instantly.

Kishi Blue raised the Shield Vanguard.

Kishi Green spun Gungnir forward.

Kishi Yellow charged with Aymr.

Asher transformed beside them.

Roland Vander: We need to buy them some time!

Lena Solis: Work your magic, girl.

Miles Rowan: We'll hold them off!

Asher: Please, bring my friend back to me.

The containment chamber alarms screamed through the facility in violent red pulses while reinforced blast shutters began slamming down across nearby corridors. Harsh emergency lights painted the entire room in flashing crimson as Der Gralsbund soldiers flooded into position with military precision, rifles raised toward the intruders. The chamber itself was massive, built less like a prison cell and more like a ritual containment site merged with modern technology.

Ashlyn barely noticed any of it anymore.

Because Trace was alive.

Even if the curse inside him made him almost unrecognizable.

Crimson-black Ehrvolt surged violently around his restrained body in unstable waves while the chains binding him groaned under the pressure. His breathing sounded uneven and feral, more like an animal fighting a trap than a person sitting in captivity.

The moment Roland’s armor formed, he slammed the Shield Vanguard forward just as the first volley of suppression rounds exploded toward them. The blasts crashed against the massive shield in a shower of sparks while Miles launched himself over Roland’s shoulder with Gungnir already spinning in his hands.

Miles Rowan: This is a prison break, dudes!

He crashed directly into the nearest firing line.

Green Ehrvolt spiraled around Gungnir as Miles swept the spear low, smashing through the soldiers’ formation and knocking three Gralsbund operatives off their feet in a single spinning strike. Before they could recover, he reversed the weapon and drove the butt of the spear into another soldier’s chest hard enough to send him crashing backward into a control panel.

Lena sprinted past him.

Aymr erupted with golden light.

Lena Solis: Get away from her!

She swung the massive axe into the floor, unleashing a shockwave of energy that tore across the chamber and flipped an entire line of advancing soldiers backward. The blast shattered containment glass along the walls while emergency systems screamed louder overhead.

Meanwhile, Ashlyn never looked away from Trace.

Not once.

Even while the battle exploded around her.

Trace growled low in his throat as the curse continued raging through him. His muscles strained violently against the glowing chains while distorted flashes of ancient battlefields flickered behind his crimson eyes. Every few seconds another pulse of corrupted Ehrvolt exploded outward from his body hard enough to shake the room.

Ashlyn moved closer anyway.

Roland Vander: Ashlyn!

Roland blocked another barrage of suppression rounds with Vanguard before slamming the shield forward into two rushing soldiers.

Ashlyn ignored all of it.

Trace stood before her trembling violently while crimson Ehrvolt surged around him.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Trace.

He looked at her.

But the curse still filled his eyes.

Ashlyn slowly touched his cheek.

And suddenly everything changed.

The world vanished.

Ashlyn found herself standing beneath soft golden lights.

Music drifted through the air.

The academy dance.

Trace stood across from her exactly as he had that night.

The violence inside him surrounded the edges of the memory like shadows trying to consume it. War memories crashed against the dance floor. Blood stained the walls. Ancient battlefields screamed in the distance.

Ashlyn walked toward him anyway.

Ashlyn Westbrook: No.

The curse surged.

Ashlyn grabbed his hands.

Ashlyn Westbrook: This is what matters, Trace. The past is in the past. Look ahead to your future.

The war memories cracked.

Ashlyn pulled him closer.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Not the blood.

The rage weakened.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Not the curse.

The darkness shattered further.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Look at your future...look at...me.

Then they embraced.

And the curse finally broke.

Back in reality, Trace’s crimson eyes cleared instantly.

His breathing steadied.

He stared at Ashlyn in complete confusion.

Trace Mercer: ...Ashlyn?

She nearly cried immediately.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Welcome back.

Trace looked around wildly.

Der Gralsbund soldiers battled the others across the chamber while explosions rocked the facility.

Then his eyes landed on Kamen Rider Ash.

Trace froze.

Trace Mercer: Asher?

Asher blocked an incoming blast before looking back toward him.

Asher: We can explain later!

The facility suddenly shook violently.

A distant explosion thundered through the lower levels.

Then another.

Lena looked upward immediately.

Lena Solis: That’s not us.

Emergency sirens changed tones.

Facility Alarm: Worzol breach detected.

Everyone froze.

Dreadlings flooded into the facility.

Garrikus smashed through the collapsing corridor behind them while Vire burst across the ceiling and Malvora stepped calmly through a swirling violet portal.

Total chaos erupted.

Der Gralsbund soldiers opened fire on the invaders.

Dreadlings tore through security formations.

The Kishirangers immediately found themselves trapped in the center of a three-way war.

Trace Mercer: What's going on?

Ashlyn Westbrook: We're in a Der Gralsbund facility! They've been holding you here for weeks!

Trace Mercer: Weeks?!

Ashlyn Westbrook: Ray....he-

Trace Mercer: I remember. It didn't feel like me, but I remember seeing it, like one of those moving pictures in the magic box.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Televi- that's not the time to be correcting you. Hehe. I'm just glad you're alright.

Trace Mercer: I'm not so sure of that. We appear to be trapped between a rock and a hard place.

Ashlyn Westbrook: The Worzol Dimension is attacking from the front, and we came in through the back.

Trace Mercer: You led them here?

Ashlyn Westbrook: ...I tried.

Trace Mercer: They followed you into the belly of the beast. The Oathlinks have never been stronger. I can feel it again. You've done such a good job. I think it's time I just back into the fray.

Ashlyn Westbrook: What? Trace, you-

Trace Mercer: I'm alright now. Trust me.

Ashlyn handed Oathrender back to Trace.

Ashlyn Westbrook: ...Always.

Trace smiled at Ashlyn and stood up, holding Oathrender and his Oathbuckler aloft.

Trace Mercer: Oath forged! Kishiranger, arise!

Trace transformed.

Blazing red Ehrvolt exploded across the chamber.

The full Kishiranger team stood together again for the first time since his disappearance.

Ashlyn looked toward him briefly.

Even through the armor she could feel him smiling.

Then Garrikus charged.

The battle consumed the entire facility.

Roland slammed the Shield Vanguard into a wave of Dreadlings while Miles carved through the chaos with Gungnir spinning in deadly green arcs.

Lena unleashed blasts through Aymr while Asher fought like a living storm beside them.

Trace and Ashlyn fought back-to-back against Garrikus himself.

Garrikus: The Blazing Oath returns.

Trace Mercer: Unfortunately for you.

The facility continued collapsing around them.

Then silver energy exploded through the battlefield.

The Silver Templar arrived.

He attacked everyone.

Der Gralsbund.

Dreadlings.

Kishirangers.

Silver Ehrvolt carved through the warzone while Ray moved through the battlefield like an executioner trying to contain absolute chaos.

The team struggled desperately against three generals, endless Dreadlings, Der Gralsbund soldiers, and the Silver Templar simultaneously.

Roland Vander: We cannot hold this position!

Asher: Fall back!

Ashlyn looked toward the Silver Templar.

Toward Ray.

And suddenly realized something.

She lowered her weapon slightly.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Ray? Is that you?

The Silver Templar froze.

Only for a second.

But it was enough.

Ashlyn slashed him with Gravebrand.

The impact staggered him backward.

Miles Rowan: OH THAT WAS SMART!

Ashlyn Westbrook: MOVE!

The team escaped through one of the collapsing corridors while the three-way battle consumed the facility behind them.

Eventually they burst through a massive hidden exit concealed behind a roaring waterfall far beyond the city outskirts.

The group stumbled onto wet stone outside while explosions echoed faintly behind the mountain wall.

Malvora appeared briefly inside the cavern entrance.

She could have stopped them.

Ashlyn knew it immediately.

But instead the witch simply smiled.

Almost affectionate smile.

As the Kishirangers escaped through the hidden waterfall passage with Trace barely stabilized between them, the Der Gralsbund facility descended fully into catastrophe behind them. Red emergency lights strobed through the underground corridors while fires spread across damaged containment sectors and Dreadlings flooded entire wings of the complex in screaming waves. Sanctum barriers flickered under the strain of dimensional instability while automated defense systems fired indiscriminately through smoke-filled hallways.

But Der Gralsbund had survived catastrophes before.

And unlike the Kishirangers, they had been preparing for this kind of war for centuries.

Deep within the central command sector, Father Lughbow stood before a massive circular interface while armored Gralsbund officers rushed between tactical stations around him. Explosions shook the chamber every few seconds, but the old priest remained perfectly calm while battlefield projections rotated through the air before him.

Entire sections of the underground base glowed red.

Worzol breach signatures spread across multiple sectors simultaneously.

And yet Lughbow’s expression never changed.

Der Gralsbund Officer: Eastern containment line has collapsed! Dreadling forces are advancing toward the reliquary chambers!

Second Officer: Garrikus breached the lower defense corridor! We’re losing sectors seven through nine!

Lughbow folded his hands calmly behind his back.

Father Lughbow: Deploy the second seal divisions.

The officers froze briefly.

Der Gralsbund Officer: Father...those are relic-class units.

Father Lughbow: Yes.

His voice remained steady.

Father Lughbow: Which is why we will use them now.

The officer swallowed hard.

Der Gralsbund Officer: Understood.

Across the facility, massive reinforced blast doors slammed shut throughout the lower sectors while ancient symbols ignited beneath the floors and walls. Entire corridors transformed as hidden sealing mechanisms awakened after decades of dormancy.

Garrikus smashed through another security line with his mace only for glowing chains of energy to erupt upward around him from the floor itself.

The massive general roared immediately.

Garrikus: COWARDS!

Dozens of armored Gralsbund knights emerged from hidden side corridors carrying enormous tower shields etched with ancient Avalon runes. Unlike ordinary soldiers, these knights wore silver-white armor reinforced with glowing plating.

The Seal Divisions.

Elite containment warriors.

They advanced without fear.

Garrikus charged directly into them.

His mace obliterated the first shield wall in a thunderous explosion, sending several knights flying backward, but the formation held long enough for anchors to deploy from the ceiling. Massive golden chains wrapped around Garrikus’s arms and torso while sealing runes burned across the floor beneath him.

The general snarled violently and tore free through sheer strength, but even that momentary delay allowed Gralsbund artillery teams to fire concentrated suppression lances into his armor.

Explosions erupted across the corridor.

Elsewhere in the facility, Vire darted through collapsing maintenance sectors while dozens of Dreadlings followed behind him in chaotic waves. The cocky general laughed while carving through Gralsbund defenders with impossible speed, but the deeper he pushed into the facility, the more maze like it became and The Swift had to laugh at himself at getting lost.

Vire: Ohhhh. That’s annoying.

The hallway collapsed inward.

A dimensional seal detonated directly beneath him.

The explosion swallowed dozens of Dreadlings instantly while Vire barely escaped upward through the ceiling in a blur of dark energy.

Meanwhile, Malvora stood within one of the reliquary chambers surrounded by floating symbols and shattered containment glass. Violet energy drifted around her calmly while Der Gralsbund operatives formed defensive circles nearby.

Unlike the others, Malvora wasn’t fighting seriously.

She was searching.

Her eyes moved slowly across the chamber.

Then narrowed.

Malvora: Curious.

A Gralsbund commander raised his weapon toward her.

Gralsbund Commander: Halt immediately!

Malvora smiled faintly.

Malvora: You no longer have it either, do you?

The commander hesitated.

Only for a second.

But that second was enough for Malvora to understand.

Her expression shifted immediately.

Back in the central command chamber, another officer rushed toward Father Lughbow.

Officer: The Worzol forces are retreating!

Everyone in the room froze.

Officer: Garrikus and Vire are pulling their armies back through dimensional breaches!

Lughbow frowned for the first time all night.

Father Lughbow: Retreating?

Officer: Yes, Father! They’re abandoning the lower sectors!

That made no sense.

The Worzol forces had been winning through sheer violence and numbers. Entire sections of the facility lay in ruins. The outer containment wings had collapsed completely.

Why retreat now?

Another figure entered the command chamber silently.

The Silver Templar.

Rainwater dripped from the edges of his silver armor while sparks still flickered faintly across his blade from the battle.

Lughbow turned toward him immediately.

Father Lughbow: The Blazing Oath escaped.

Ray Matthews: Unfortunately, yes. They also know who I am it seems.

The Silver Templar’s fists tightened slightly.

Another officer suddenly looked up from the tactical displays in alarm.

Officer: Father...the reliquary chamber seals have been breached.

Lughbow’s expression darkened instantly.

Father Lughbow: Status of the Grail?

The officer’s face paled.

Officer: ...Missing.

Silence filled the chamber.

Even the surrounding officers stopped moving.

The Silver Templar slowly looked upward.

Father Lughbow: Explain.

Officer: The chamber is empty. There are no signs of forced extraction beyond the battle damage. The Grail simply...vanished.

Lughbow moved immediately toward the holographic displays.

Officer: Father...the Grail energy signature never crossed into the Worzol Dimension.

Lughbow froze.

Father Lughbow: What?

Officer: We traced every retreat breach. None of them carried the Grail.

The old priest stared at the data silently.

Silver Templar: Then who took it?

Far away from the burning facility, hidden beneath the roaring waterfall exit beyond Avalon City, the Kishirangers finally slowed to catch their breath.

Rain hammered the rocks around them while Trace leaned weakly against the cavern wall still recovering from the curse and the battle. Ashlyn stayed beside him constantly as though terrified he might vanish again if she looked away.

Roland stared back toward the distant city lights.

Roland Vander: The battle’s stopping.

Lena frowned immediately.

Her Zauberer senses stretched outward instinctively through the storm.

Then her expression changed.

Lena Solis: ...No.

Miles looked toward her.

Miles Rowan: What do you mean no?

Lena slowly looked back toward the waterfall.

Lena Solis: The Grail isn’t there anymore.

Thunder crashed overhead.

Trace slowly looked up.

Trace Mercer: What?

Lena’s face paled.

Lena Solis: I can’t feel it anymore. The energy vanished completely.

Ashlyn Westbrook: Did Vantrex take it?

Asher shook his head slowly.

Asher: If he had, you would feel it. The Grail’s power would distort the dimensional balance immediately.

Roland Vander: Then somebody else took it during the battle.

The realization settled over the group heavily.

Because there had been too many moving pieces.

Too much chaos.

Too many factions colliding at once.

Der Gralsbund.

The Worzol Generals.

The Silver Templar.

The Kishirangers.

And somewhere during all of it...

The single most dangerous relic in Avalon had disappeared completely.

To Be Continued...

Last edited by Machismo (Yesterday 3:44 am)

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» Tokuverse - Mythic Sentai Kishiranger

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