The [Heavy Acceleration Field]—that was the gift Heart had given to Hoshigaki Sora.
He had promised Heart to lead that race out of their confusion and deception, to show them a path to live on in this galaxy.
Not to let them meet the world with malice—
For malice only invites greater malice.
And not to scatter kindness too freely—
For kindness would be twisted and exploited.
For that vow, Heart had entrusted all of his power to Sora.
The engine in his chest had long since been pushed to the limit,
burning even now, endlessly supplying Sora with strength.
In full ignition, it could even halt physical phenomena themselves—the field of [Heavy Acceleration].
That was Heart's aid.
The gift of one friend to another.
And now, that very power—
Was being wielded by Titanironia, the incomplete Aeon of Propagation.
She did not understand how the field was born.
But understanding was unnecessary.
An Aeon need only will it.
From the extradimensional space within their being, the power would manifest.
And so the [Super-Heavy Acceleration Field] spread again across this world.
The field enveloped the planet in an instant, and its reach dwarfed the one Sora had unleashed.
Sora's field could, at most, wrap around the planet and stretch slightly into orbit.
Titanironia's?
That was merely the beginning.
From this planet, her field spread outward in a breath.
Asteroids halted mid-flight.
Cosmic rays froze into shining lines visible to the naked eye.
Planets stopped their spin.
Even stars within the reach of the field ceased their motions.
Titanironia's [Super-Heavy Acceleration] now spanned nearly half a light-year.
Slowing only after reaching that scale.
And the planet itself hung in stillness, all its winds, its dust, the fragments of shattered buildings, all locked into the moment.
In this world of halted time, only consciousness remained—and only the platinum figure blazed with movement.
Titanironia steadied herself from imbalance.
To be struck askew by a mortal was no humiliation for her.
Instead, she found herself admiring him.
Only power like his could withstand her ancient foes.
The stronger he grew, the more welcome his companionship would be.
And yet—
Why was he still moving?
Yes.
Sora hung in midair, frozen like the scenery around him.
His cape billowed, locked mid-flutter.
His crimson eyes burned, unshaken.
He was not panicked.
If he had wanted to feign being frozen, it would have been pointless.
This power was mimicry—her version of Heart's field.
How could he possibly be caught by it?
Like the King of Time himself—
Could he be stopped by time-stasis?
Impossible.
And so Titanironia did not believe he was truly stopped.
She had raised the field not to kill, but to recover from her imbalance.
She had not imagined it could slay him outright.
Yet there he hung, motionless.
[Is this… an "ambush draw" tactic?]
The thought flickered in her mind.
She had lived long among the Glamoth, as their Iron Cavalry Queen.
She knew their strategies and terms.
"Luring the enemy in" was basic knowledge.
She could hardly forget it.
So perhaps that was what he intended.
Breaking such a tactic was simple.
Her blade swept through the air.
The very dust of flesh scattered there began to swell and multiply.
Bloated tumors bulged into being, writhing with nauseating flesh.
From them, in time, emerged new clones.
At first, frozen like all else.
But under her power, one by one, they stirred, regaining motion even in this stopped world.
And far off—Shunji saw it.
Her heart clenched.
"Damn it!"
She cursed inwardly.
She had not expected Titanironia to respond this way.
Sora's strike had erased every clone before.
They had been reduced to nothing.
Only the extreme protection of their universe-grade armor had let the Fyrefly Squad survive even near the blast.
But now—Titanironia spawned more, right under their eyes.
And they—were frozen.
Their fingers, their limbs, their entire bodies—locked in place.
Only thought remained.
Move. Move!
Shunji screamed in her heart.
Not just for herself.
For him too.
Sora, still frozen midair, hand resting on his belt.
The clones crept closer, slowly but surely.
Her despair deepened.
They had promised, back then, to handle the clones.
Now, the clones were upon him...
And all they could do was watch.
The copies reached him.
Their hands touched him.
Relief flickered in her heart:
He did not change.
He was not assimilated.
But then fear surged anew.
For the clones began to carry him—lifting him down from the sky, step by step, to Titanironia.
Their hands pressed over his black armor, covering him completely.
They bore him carefully, as if afraid to jostle him.
And soon, they set him before her.
Titanironia faltered.
She could hardly believe it.
The one who had rejected her so many times—now lay before her, helpless.
Unthinkable.
Unimaginable.
Her dream—so close, so tangible.
Only one step remained.
To drive her blade through him, to transform him into her companion.
Then the radiant, perfect future would begin.
The cold, the emptiness of the cosmos, banished forever.
The first stroke of her creation.
So she raised her gleaming blade.
Her target: his abdomen.
[With me, strive onward—let me grant you the body that will co-create a beautiful age.]
She raised her arm, her long blade already poised to strike.
No!!
Shunji's scream tore through her heart, silent in the frozen world.
The Fyrefly warriors' faces twisted in disbelief.
And from afar, that dark red flame that had been sprinting toward them—its pupils shrank to a pinprick.
Hotaru stared at the god's blade raised high, aimed to pass judgment upon the black-armored general—and her mind went white.
Sora, lose? Impossible.
Hadn't he promised to take them all away from here?
Hadn't he sworn they'd see the so-called "Guardian Deity" together after this?
So how—how could this be happening now?
This has to be an illusion.
But Titanironia's blade arced down toward his abdomen, and Hotaru could no longer lie to herself.
No dream. No vision. This was real.
"Sora!"
Her cry rang from the distance, her flame roaring brighter, burning itself away.
"You promised! You swore you wouldn't break your word!"
"Move! Get up and move!!"
From the heart of her dark red blaze, a streak of platinum radiance burst forth.
Her speed shattered all limits, streaking as a platinum comet.
Titanironia felt it—her gaze turned.
[My right hand…]
The divine limb she had lost, now hurtling toward her in another form.
Whummm—
But then—another sound.
Discordant.
The rumble of an engine.
Her eyes snapped back—
The sword that had frozen mid-strike was locked, unable to descend another inch.
'[SET!]'
'[DUAL ON! GREAT. BOOST.]'
"I never said I'd stopped."
The blade in Sora's hands was tiny compared to hers and yet it shoved Titanironia's divine edge back, inch by inch.
His upper body was no longer the monstrous armor of before, but clad in crimson, pulsing like a heart.
The gauntlets on his arms were gone replaced by ornaments like exhaust vents.
No—not ornaments.
From those vents roared azure fire, jets blasting outward with unstoppable force.
And with that thrust, Sora forced back the Aeon's blade.
'[READY, FIGHT!]'
Kamen Rider Tycoon – Bujin Sword: Booster.
Another derived form of Bujin Sword—but unlike "Monster," this one inherited all prior data while summoning the Bujin Sword's armament itself.
Three powers stacked together, amplifying one another.
The fire blasting from his arms swelled thicker, brighter.
Step by step—he advanced.
Not just to push her back.
But to defeat her outright.
He flipped his blade, meeting her sword edge to edge.
Platinum brilliance crashed against emerald steel.
At first, a stalemate.
But then, little by little, he pressed forward.
The emerald light of [Bujin Sword's Buckle] burned so fierce it outshone even Titanironia's radiance.
And in that glow, voices echoed in his mind—
"Sora, you're the best!"
"I knew it. You'd never fall here."
"I'm glad I trusted you to the very last moment."
Their belief surged through him, feeding his light until it deepened into a shade that seemed endless.
Sora lifted his head.
And saw Titanironia—an Aeon of Propagation, incomplete yet divine—staring back in shock.
Because—
Cr-cr-cr-crack!!
Her platinum blade began to splinter, emerald fissures crawling across its length.
The body of an Aeon—fracturing under his strike.
Unthinkable.
Sora straightened, voice cold:
"Your sword is nothing but form without substance."
And he twisted the Booster at his waist.
Whumm—whummm—
'[BUJIN SWORD BOOST VICTORY!]'
Shing!
A slash of emerald shot skyward, tearing through to the stars.
So brilliant, it was visible from the void of space itself.
Everything along its path split in two.
The divine blade of Titanironia's arm shattered into fragments.
The cut did not stop.
It swept through the root of her arm.
For a heartbeat, nothing changed.
Then—platinum blood spilled.
A severed arm hit the ground, dissolving into golden motes.
The earth was silent.
And then it roared.
Rumble—rumble—rumble—
The planetary crust tilted, mechanical structures buried deep groaning in protest.
From orbit, one could see it—
A scar across one-fifth of the planet, carved by that single sword stroke.