In a space where everything was wrapped in a silver, shimmering wall of space-time, a young man could be seen walking forward. He looked no older than twenty, with short red hair, sharp red eyes, a red jacket with a high collar, a white T-shirt beneath, and black pants. Burn marks scarred parts of his clothes, evidence of the battle he had just endured.
???: "Damn demon… trying to rewrite space-time and remake humanity…"
He had just walked out of a fight—a fight that ended in his favor. His previous journey had carried him across timelines, facing spirits of legends long past… some in strange, gender-bent forms. Even his Musashi Eyecon from Kamen Rider Ghost was still in shock after seeing a female version of Musashi herself. He couldn't fathom how that golden, arrogant bastard could ever become the wise King of Uruk. He had clashed with guardians serving humanity's will to survive, fought beasts born from the will of the planet, and finally confronted a demon while teaming up with a group dedicated to protecting the timeline.
Their reaction to his weapons—the DenLiner, Super Sentai mechs, and especially the King Caucasus Kabuto—was unforgettable. The young master of that place had practically fanboyed over everything he summoned.
Shaking his head, the young man pressed forward. Around him stretched the Aurora Curtain, the silver veil of eternity. With Kamen Rider Decade's power to transcend space and time, he continued his journey as a traveler of worlds.
As he walked through the dimensional wall, the Aurora Curtain revealed a vision before his eyes—a colossal tree, its branches stretching endlessly across the void. Each branch was a timeline, and upon each leaf shimmered an entire world of its own.
???: "So this is the next world I'll go to, huh? …Let's see what awaits me then."
The young man muttered to himself before stepping forward, his figure fading into the silver, shimmering walls of space-time, vanishing toward his next destination.
____________________
Under the night sky, a quiet city rested. Skyscrapers stretched into the heavens as their lights slowly dimmed—its people asleep after a long day's work. Yet none of them knew that their world was about to change forever… for better, or for worse.
In a dark alleyway, a wall of white light with a metallic hue shimmered into existence. From within, a young man stepped out. It was the same traveler—but his appearance was different. His outfit had shifted into a short-sleeved shirt patterned in brown and white, the upper half black, the lower half pale white, paired with slim brown pants.
He glanced down and noticed he was carrying a briefcase in one hand and a suitcase in the other. Searching for a reflection in a nearby window, he blinked in surprise—he looked younger.
That was the nature of Kamen Rider Decade's power. Each time he entered a new world, reality itself bent to cast him into a role—his clothes, his body, even his identity reshaping as if he were a character written into that world's story. The world provided him the tools he needed to blend in, whether he asked for them or not.
Curiosity pushed him further. He opened the suitcase and found an ID card with a new name: Kouga Hayata. According to the documents, he was sixteen years old, a student at Chiba Academy. There was even cash neatly prepared for him.
"Well, that's convenient…" he muttered.
Inside the suitcase was also a note listing his place of residence. With no better plan, Kouga decided to head there.
And so, under the glow of neon signs and the quiet hush of a slumbering city, Kouga Hayata walked through the streets. Every world had its own kind of beauty—and he couldn't help but marvel at it.
After a few minutes of walking, Kouga finally arrived at the place he was supposed to call home.
And all he could feel was disappointment.
It was a typical two-story Japanese house, built from a mix of wood, concrete, and metal, with a tiled sloping roof and even a small garden out front. At first glance, it should have been comforting… but the reality was far from it. The house showed clear signs of neglect: faded paint, cracked walls, roof tiles missing here and there, and a garden completely overrun with weeds.
Kouga opened his briefcase and, sure enough, found a house key along with ownership papers proving the house belonged to him. With a sigh, he unlocked the door.
A cloud of dust immediately greeted him. The interior was no better than the outside—maybe worse. The living room was buried in dust, the old furniture nearly falling apart: a wooden low table with chipped legs, faded cushions that looked like they hadn't been touched in years. The kitchen was depressing—an outdated stove that no longer worked, cabinets on the verge of collapse, and grime collecting in every corner.
And the bathroom… Kouga didn't even want to think about it.
He forced himself upstairs to the second floor, hoping for at least one decent room. But the condition there was hardly any better. The only usable space was a washitsu-style room with a desk, a window, and a built-in closet where a futon had been stored. It was at least functional, but far from welcoming.
Kouga exhaled sharply and dropped his suitcase to the floor."Guess… this is home now."
Kouga let out a deep sigh and stepped back outside. The sky was still dark; the sun had yet to rise, and the neighborhood around him was silent, shutters closed as the people slept peacefully. For a moment, he simply stared at the horizon—then smirked to himself.
"...Guess I'll abuse my powers a little."
Closing the door behind him, he leaned against it, lost in thought.
'What should I use…? Gotchard's matter manipulation? Magic-based Sentai or Riders, like MagiRed or Wizard? Or maybe I should just bend reality with Gaim or Geats…'
He considered his options carefully, weighing which ability would suit the situation. After a few minutes, curiosity got the better of him. Kouga decided to try the power of gods—the strength of Kamen Rider Geats Mark IX.
He closed his eyes. Energy surged around him, and the ornate white-and-gold armor of Geats began to manifest across his body. But the transformation never completed. His body trembled violently, sparks of energy crackling across his frame. It felt as though electricity was tearing him apart from the inside.
Kouga collapsed to one knee, gritting his teeth. Then it hit him—this body wasn't his usual one. He was sixteen now, and no matter how skilled he was, this younger frame could only endure so much power.
"...Tch. Guess I'll have to test my limits later."
Pushing himself back to his feet, he brushed the dust from his jacket. Instead of brute force, he switched to something safer: MagiRed's magic. Raising his hand, he began casting spells. Slowly but surely, the dust lifted from the floors, the broken furniture mended, and the ruined interior of the house was restored to a livable state.
By the time he was done, the place felt less like a wreck and more like a home.
After arranging the house, Kouga sat in the living room and checked what he had brought with him. Inside the suitcase and briefcase were a few sets of clothes, a smartphone with a note stuck to it listing the password, and confirmation that he did in fact have a bank account.
He checked the fridge next. Empty."...Figures," he muttered.
'Guess it's time to go buy some food. Even if I don't need it anymore, it's still nice to taste something real.'
Having decided, Kouga headed upstairs to change. He slipped into a red track jacket over a black T-shirt with slim brown pants, then stored his suitcase and briefcase in the closet. Using the map app on the phone, he located the nearest supermarket and stepped out into the morning streets.
By then, the sun had risen. Workers hurried to their jobs, couples strolled hand in hand, the city alive with energy. Kouga kept his eyes on the phone's map, following the route—so focused, in fact, that he didn't notice someone rushing toward him until they collided.
The impact wasn't much to him, but the other person stumbled backwards. Reacting quickly, Kouga grabbed their outstretched hand to steady them. Unfortunately, he pulled too hard, and both of them toppled sideways—her falling onto his chest.
On the ground, Kouga realized from the soft pressure that the person was a girl. She pushed herself up onto her knees, giving him his first clear look at her. She was slightly shorter than him, with white hair tied into two thick braids, a white blouse with a black collar and yellow stripes on the cuffs, a brown skirt with darker stripes, and sharp blue eyes that met his red ones.
Kouga swallowed hard before asking, "Are you okay?"
The girl snatched her bag from the ground, glaring."Watch where you're going!" she snapped, then rushed past him without another word.
Kouga brushed himself off, unfazed by her tone. What unsettled him wasn't what she said—but what he had seen when their hands touched. Even without transforming, he carried the innate senses of Rider and Sentai. This time, his Kamen Rider Ghost power triggered.
In that brief moment, he saw her past: a girl searching for her father who had vanished years ago, traveling from place to place for any trace of him. He felt a pang of sympathy. But that wasn't all—he also caught a glimpse of her fighting strange monsters, creatures with glowing pink lines across their bodies.
And then, the name: Kiana Kaslana.
'What's going on in this world…?' Kouga thought, frowning. Still, without enough information, he decided not to act yet.
After buying groceries, he discovered his bank account only held enough to stock food for about a month."...Great," he thought sarcastically, lugging the bags back.
On his way home, a brightly lit casino caught his eye. Laughter, shouts, and tears spilled out as gamblers streamed in and out. Kouga smirked."Perfect."
He dropped the groceries at home, stuffed the fridge, and returned to the casino with a plan in mind.
--- A Few Hours Later ---
Kouga strolled back under the night sky, dragging a suitcase stuffed with cash. Thanks to the supernatural luck of Shishi Red from Kyuranger, he had won big. Of course, the casino had banned him for good, but that hardly mattered.
Standing before his run-down house, he thought about redecorating it later, then stepped inside—only to freeze.
Something was wrong.
His enhanced senses immediately picked it up. Someone else was here. The fridge was lighter than before, its shelves crowded with empty cup noodle containers. The kitchen window had been left wide open. And the scent lingering in the air—it was strangely familiar.
Moving silently, Kouga crept upstairs. His bedroom door was ajar. The scent was stronger now, leading him straight to the closet.
He braced himself, slid the door open, and readied his fist—only to find himself staring at the same white-haired girl from that morning.
Kiana Kaslana.