"Did it... actually work?"
Beckir stared in disbelief, a fragnt gripped in his hand, as an enormous structure erged from the lush green forest.
Amid the vibrant canopy, a massive, clashing presence now lood—a construction wholly alien to its surroundings.
Its architecture was a dull, rusted orange, like sothing spat out from the end of the universe—apocalyptic, toxic, final.
And it was infamous across the galaxy:
The War Foundry.
The birthplace of the Antimatter Legion.
Those capable of summoning it were no ordinary grunts—they were figures of terrifying renown within the Legion.
"Looks like we're about to hit it big!"
Harland's initial shock faded into joy as the realization sank in.
They'd stumbled on cosmic fragnts in the depths of space—and those fragnts could really conjure a War Foundry.
The Foundry was practically the embodint of the Destruction Aeon's blessing.
Which ant: any fragnt that could summon one must be a piece of an Emanator of Destruction—a vessel for Nanook's power.
They, two loyal followers of the Annihilation Faction, had long yearned to receive Destruction's gaze. For that goal, they'd committed countless atrocities.
They each had bounties north of ten million credits from the Interastral Peace Corporation.
But none of that had earned them even a passing glance from an Aeon.
Still, they hadn't given up—and now they'd found it. A fragnt of an Emanator.
All they had to do was use it to destroy this planet, and they'd finally be deed worthy to serve under the Envoy directly!
Sure, it wasn't Destruction's personal recognition—but being part of an Emanator's inner circle was more than enough to secure status in the Annihilation ranks.
Just imagining that bright, blood-soaked future filled them with exhilaration.
"Hurry, hurry! Start the War Foundry! This is our chance to earn Lord Ravagers favor!!"
They scrambled to ignite the Foundry.
And as it roared to life, the forest around them withered.
Green gave way to yellow.
The ground shook with a deep, guttural rumble—like sothing ancient and buried was being drained, awakened.
And then—sothing strange caught their attention.
"Huh? What's that in the sky… a book?"
Harland pointed up. Beckir followed his gaze.
Far in the distance, sothing glimred as it hurtled toward them.
Beckir blinked, rubbed his eyes. It was a book. Silver light shone from its spine.
"Am I hallucinating…?"
Even in a universe where Aeons existed, books didn't just fly through the sky.
But this wasn't an illusion.
The book screeched toward them, slicing the air with razor force.
And then—
It opened.
Flas erupted.
[Kaenken Rekka] — Blazing Fire Sword.
Silver and crimson flas exploded downward, crashing into the ground.
Fwoooosh!!
The fire coalesced into a humanoid figure, its silhouette blazing against the green earth.
Its head crowned by a jagged crest, it stood stark against the forested backdrop.
The two Annihilation cultists felt a surge of dread.
Flas lit across their bodies, and they transford into Fla Demons, towering beings wreathed in infernal fire.
In an instant, three burning figures now stood among the dying trees.
"Who the hell are you supposed to be?!" Beckir demanded, stepping forward.
Was he another Annihilation operative?
Or sothing else?
But the burning figure didn't answer.
Instead, it raised its blade and cleaved away the flas around it.
Red and white armor glead in the fading light, trails of radiance lining its body. A dragon's head jutted from its left shoulder, exuding regal might.
Its helt bore twin sword-strikes across the face, with a razor-sharp point of light glinting at the forehead.
"I'm just a passing Kan Rider. Rember that."
Hoshigaki Sora looked calmly at the two Fla Demons.
"Hah? What kind of answer is that?"
Beckir scoffed, realizing now this man wasn't one of them.
Which ant only one thing: kill him here and now.
FWOOM!!
Flas surged even hotter around Beckir's body. Moisture evaporated instantly, surrounding him in clouds of scalding steam.
And then—he lunged forward, a line of fire streaking toward the swordsman.
But just as he struck—
Sora moved.
No omniscient sword. No full-power book.
Just instinct honed through the Haouken—through the mories of every swordsman it had ever bonded with.
Master level swordsmanship.
The fla-line shot forward.
Sora didn't budge. He looked almost stunned, motionless.
Beckir smirked. No one ever stayed composed after facing a Fla Demon.
No one.
Until—
Zzt!
In the instant before contact, Sora shifted.
Just a subtle movent—and the fla-line ran headfirst into his blade.
The faster it had rushed, the harder it stopped.
Clunk.
A headless body hit the ground. The flas clinging to it hadn't even flickered out.
Beckir's eyes were still wide with disbelief—How did he move? He was frozen!
But those questions would find no answers in the Void.
Silence fell.
Harland stood frozen.
Beckir—infamous Beckir—was dead. Just like that.
He wasn't weak. IPC had him pegged at ten million credits. This shouldn't be possible.
He'd run into the guy's sword. Headfirst.
That wasn't just stupid—it was… sothing else entirely.
Still stunned, Harland shook his head, clearing his thoughts.
He turned to the swordsman.
"Are you this planet's protector?"
The response ca not from the man's lips—but as a whisper, right next to his ear.
The blade was already at his throat.
"I'm just here to write a new story. For a new beginning… please die."
The blade slashed.
Another burning head hit the ground.
Two of the galaxy's most wanted criminals—each worth over ten million credits—had been taken down in two strikes.
To Sora, it hadn't even been a warm-up.
He flicked the blood from his blade and turned his gaze to the looming War Foundry.
This was where the planet's end had begun.
But now, he would use it—to make sure the planet could live.
He picked up the fragnt the two had dropped, and hurled it into the Foundry.
The reaction was instant.
The ground split. The sky darkened.
A writhing mass of crimson tendrils burst from the cracks, engulfing the entire Foundry.
But from below—another light erged.
A silver-white glow spilled from the fissures, entangling with the red.
They fought, clashed, tore at one another.
Zulo's will began devouring the Foundry, growing stronger.
The silver light faltered.
It would lose.
Unless—
Sora pulled a book from his Driver.
[Tales of the Galaxy Rangers.]
Even in this tiline, their faces remained unseen—but their presence resonated in the light.
The silver glow pulsed.
"Co on. We're partners, aren't we? Let's finish this together."
The light responded.
It surged toward the Wonder Ride Book in Sora's hand.
From within its pages… a truth was revealed.
[...So it was you. My friend. My partner...]
Another book materialized in Sora's other hand.
Its cover shimred silver.
He blinked, surprised.
It looked like a Doomsday Beast… but not quite.
A recolor, maybe. But transford.
Where its form had once scread catastrophe, now it glead with celestial light.
Its lines were gentler. Wings extended, elegant.
It was no longer monstrous.
Sora chuckled softly.
"You even figured out the style."
[Miracle Beast of Starlight]
A divine beast ford from countless wills, all seeking to fight alongside their partner.
As the book settled into his hand, another appeared beside him—
[Primitive Dragon!]
A white, skeletal dragon erged, murmuring gently to him.
"Touma said… help your friends. So I ca."
The Brave Dragon, once fierce, quietly slid back into the Driver and vanished.
"Nope. I'm out. Not brave enough for this."
Sora noticed—but didn't say anything.
He took the Primitive Dragon in one hand, and slotted in the new Wonder Book with the other.
"[Miracle Beast of Starlight]!"
The skeletal dragon understood.
"[Is this… your friend]?"
"You're my friend too," Sora said. "We're all partners. All of us."
The dragon paused, then gently sank into the book.
"Let's do this together, partners."
Sora smiled.
From within the Foundry, Zulo's form was taking shape.
"One defeat, or a thousand—it doesn't matter. I've been reborn. And through , Nanook's brilliance will once again spread across the stars!"
"The story of Destruction shall rise again!"
Zulo hurled two fireballs at Sora.
"Is that so?"
Sora slotted in the Primitive Dragon.
"[Primitive Dragon! Get]!"
A massive book unfurled behind him.
Claws of bone and shimring starlight clashed with the fireballs—
BOOM!!!
Explosions tore through the battlefield.
Sora stood in the inferno, sword in hand, facing the one who called himself Destruction.
"Then let tell you—your pathetic little story breaks the mont it ets mine."
"[Hen...shin]!"
"[Rekka Unleashed]!"
"[Baki. Boki. Born]!"
"[ra. ra. Burn]!"
"[Shake hands]!"
"[Miracle Beast]!"
"[Ancient and Divine]!"
"[Partner and Ally]!"
"[Unbreakable Bonds!!]"
Zulo sneered.
"That feeble sword? You think that can stop ?"
"I've returned. I have a future."
Sora raised his blade, fire gleaming along its edge.
"Then I'll make sure your future ends in darkness."
He looked up, eyes locked on his foe.
The air shifted—power surged.
Behind him, an ancient dragon roared.
"Today, you die where you stand."
And your death… will spark a new future.
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