The tide of darkness surged forward, relentless.
It was as if the black waves intended to devour every last glimr of color from this world.
The dull, sunless sky only deepened the feeling of impending doom. It seed as though this planet was monts from falling into eternal silence.
And then—a spark flared in the distance.
"Tak!"
With a cry, a figure cloaked in green and purple light soared into the air, silver-lined cloak trailing behind like a cot's tail.
"[Joker! Maximum Drive]!"
And then—sothing shocking happened.
That glowing figure split in two, one ahead and one behind, both diving into the surging black wave!
BOOM!
The parted forms landed and rejoined on the scorched ground, the energy radiating from their twin legs carving a vacuum through the darkness.
Dust erupted, smoke churned skyward, and the Voidwalkers were hurled backward by the impact.
They landed hard, twitching in place. Cracks now spiderwebbed across their bodies—but instead of leaking the usual dense negative particles, sothing else glimred within—
A strange green-violet light pulsed from the fractures.
They writhed for a mont longer before succumbing to the invasive force bleeding from the wounds.
RrrAARRGH!
With one last wail, the shimring Voidwalkers collapsed, their bodies unable to hold form any longer.
Flares erupted where they fell, the bursts of fire casting light across the scorched, blackened ground.
"Looks like even after all that 'enhancent,' they still haven't patched this little flaw."
Back during a past battle—when Sora had randomly drawn the Joker mory—he'd discovered this sa effect:
The Voidwalkers of the Antimatter Legion, once struck by his attacks, would destabilize and explode like living bombs.
Even now, after Zulo's personal upgrades, that weakness hadn't been removed.
That was good news.
And as Sora tore into the waves of enemies, a massive form descended nearby—plowing headlong into the densest part of the Voidwalker ranks.
The Doomsday Beast.
Its body bore countless fractures, but none of them dimd the planetary-slayer's power.
It roared, activating the antimatter engine embedded within its core. Golden energy gathered into its imnse right hand.
And then it brought its fist down.
BOOM!
Cracks split across the battlefield like lightning.
Voidwalkers were pulverized beneath the blow, their bodies crushed to dust. The golden claw pulsed with power, unleashing a surge of orange-yellow shockwaves.
Imaginary particles swirled through the blast, tearing apart any Voidwalker that touched them—no body left behind.
The Doomsday Beast had been a terrifying weapon of war, forged by the Antimatter Legion.
With its armor-like hide and its control over antimatter energy, it was nearly invincible.
But now, its target was no longer alien planets—it had turned against its own kind, tearing through the legion on behalf of this world.
Once an on of apocalypse, it now shone like a beacon of hope.
Battered, broken… but radiant in the tide of black.
...
And behind the frontline, the survivors had not been idle either.
They couldn't carve through the legion like Sora or the Doomsday Beast. Their part was more limited—but just as vital.
"Stick to the plan—exactly how we rehearsed it. Don't panic."
"Left flank, reinforce the wall. That area's under the most pressure. The other two sides are covered by Sora and the big guy."
"Once the pressure's off, begin the slow shift—just like we discussed."
Ouja's voice rang steady and clear. She directed the battlefield with calm precision, eyes sweeping over every movent.
With Sora and the Doomsday Beast absorbing most of the enemy's attention, the survivors could carry out the mobile tactics they'd planned in advance:
If the enemy advances, we retreat. If they halt, we harass. If they tire, we strike. If they flee, we pursue.
The ancient guerrilla creed. Once tested—now revived.
Going head-to-head with this many Voidwalkers would be suicide. Even three tis their numbers wouldn't be enough to hold the line.
So the strategy was simple: preserve every able body, maximize enemy losses.
And for that, guerrilla warfare was perfect.
The results spoke for themselves.
The Voidwalkers, with their limited intelligence, struggled to understand the maneuver.
Why do they keep shooting and running?
Whenever they gave chase, the fighters were already gone—darting like rats through a field, impossible to pin down.
Even with endless reinforcents, the Voidwalker casualties kept piling up.
"…Interesting strategy," Zulo murmured.
He hadn't expected the survivors to use actual tactics to counter his endless army.
He had dismissed them as weaklings, too cowardly to die with dignity.
And yet—they had achieved far more than he'd anticipated.
At the heart of it was this fluid, evasive, frustrating strategy.
"But how long can they sustain it?"
Zulo narrowed his gaze.
As a general, he imdiately spotted the flaw.
The Legion's stamina was infinite. Human stamina was not.
Tactics could only tip the balance when the two sides were evenly matched.
In a one-sided slaughter, they rely postponed the inevitable.
These survivors weren't worth his focus.
Only one threat remained.
Zulo's sharp eyes flicked between Sora and the rest of the defenders.
The bullet—the one that had summoned those phantom warriors and nearly killed him before—where was it?
It didn't matter.
His target priority hadn't changed.
The one person he needed to eliminate first—was still Sora.
Because only soone who had experienced that power firsthand could understand the danger it posed.
"The power of another world… it's too dangerous."
Zulo's eyes went cold.
"And so—you must be eliminated."
With that thought, he issued a silent command.
All across the battlefield, the Antimatter Legion began to shift.
The tide of Voidwalkers closed in on one target: Sora.
"You've made your gravest mistake… walking straight into the lion's den."
Zulo gave the order.
Kan Rider's Doomsday had co.
---
"[Luna]!"
"[Trigger]!"
A flash of gold and blue replaced the green-violet form that had been tearing through the Voidwalker ranks.
Sora had sensed it—the numbers were becoming overwhelming.
He switched to LunaTrigger, the best form for crowd control.
He weaved through the mob, raising his firearm and pulling the trigger.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Each bullet fired with supernatural precision—like a gun-fu expert's perfect shot—piercing Voidwalkers and tearing them apart mid-lunge.
Fire blood across the battlefield, a testant to how many he was downing.
And yet—the encirclent never broke.
If things kept up like this, he'd never reach Zulo's position.
I need to punch through—fast.
He loaded the Trigger mory into the gun. The weapon shimred with pale silver light, the barrel surging with power.
"[Trigger! Maximum Drive]!"
Energy peaked.
Sora pulled the trigger.
"[Trigger Stag Burst]!"
A colossal energy sphere erupted from the gun's mouth—a cot of light blazing through the gloom.
It streaked straight toward the densest part of the Voidwalker ranks.
The blast hit hard—lting through enemy armor, turning Voidwalkers into ash.
When the smoke cleared, bodies were strewn everywhere—limbs, shards, scorched remains.
Sora didn't stop to count.
He was already moving—racing down the path he had carved.
But even that missile—the one that had torn through so much—never made it to Zulo.
He raised one hand.
And swatted it aside.
BOOM!
The blast landed behind him, detonating with massive force.
Dust clouds erupted, swallowing the battlefield and blinding everything in sight.
Now's my chance.
Sora dove into the haze, closing the distance.
In the shifting smoke, silver and red glead.
Sora shifted forms mid-run—his body blazing gold and red as he charged in Heattal mode.
The tal mory clicked into his staff.
He wasn't holding back.
"[tal! Maximum Drive]!"
His long staff ignited in searing fla, becoming a molten warhamr in his grip.
He brought it down—
—but Zulo didn't move.
He just watched.
BOOM!
With one hand, he caught the blow.
The impact's shockwave sent dust spiraling outward, kicking up debris.
Zulo used the mont to counter.
But Sora had already let go, dodging instinctively.
BOOM!
A sonic boom split the air where he'd just been standing.
Had he stayed there—
He'd be a pancake.
"…So eager to die," Zulo remarked.
He wasn't angry at the miss. Not at all.
He tossed aside his own staff and stared down Sora.
"Dying to my minions would've been rcy."
"But now? In my hands, you'll know only tornt."
"We'll see who wins this one."
Thunk thunk thunk—
A flash of silver streaked across the battlefield and landed in Sora's hand.
The little dinosaur was back.
"Guess it's ti for our Round Two."
"[Fang]!"
"[tal]!"
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