The sky above Vairton shimmered in hues of violet and gold, its twin moons casting their glow across the jagged towers of the capital city, Vel'kra. Engines hummed in the distance, soldiers marched in formation, and the forges rang with the sound of steel shaping destiny. This was a world of warriors, a planet that raised its people for conquest and glory.
Yet among them was one who dreamed of something different.
Qirnaz, daughter of the mighty General Veylak, stood on her balcony overlooking the city. Her body glowed faintly under the twin moons, a being both strange and beautiful. Her skin was a pale, radiant white, smooth as polished stone. From her chest, waist, arms, and legs, natural clothing of vivid pink curved seamlessly, like silk grown from her own flesh. Her face, unlike the humans she had studied, was a sleek pink helm with a black visor where golden eyes glimmered from within.
This was her true self—no armor, no disguise. Where her people were known to forge weapons and helmets, she was born whole, her body already suited for battle and travel.
Qirnaz leaned against the balcony rail, her eyes fixed on the speck of blue and green far beyond the stars. "Earth," she whispered.
For months she had studied it through Vairton's archives: oceans that breathed like living things, forests that swayed with unseen music, skies that changed their colors with each passing day. Most of all, she had seen the warriors who defended it—the Kamen Riders. They were unlike the soldiers of Vairton. They did not fight for conquest but for protection, standing alone against forces far greater than themselves.
To Qirnaz, it was irresistible.
The door to her chamber slid open with a hiss. A heavy voice, stern as thunder, filled the room.
"Qirnaz."
She turned, her golden eyes glowing beneath her visor-like face. General Veylak, her father, stood framed in the doorway. His towering body was encased in black-and-gold plating, scarred from centuries of war. His presence alone could silence entire halls of soldiers, yet his gaze softened slightly as it fell upon his daughter.
"You called for me, Father?" she asked, her voice soft but steady.
"No," Veylak rumbled, stepping forward. "But I felt your spirit calling. You are restless, child. Speak your desire."
Qirnaz hesitated only a moment. She had rehearsed this conversation many times in her mind, yet her father's presence always made her pulse quicken. She placed her hands together, the smooth white of her fingers glinting in the moonlight.
"I want to go to Earth."
The chamber fell silent. Only the hum of the city outside broke the stillness.
"Earth?" Veylak's brow darkened. "The world of Riders? The same Earth that has been scarred by wars not long past?"
"Yes." Qirnaz straightened her posture, determination shining through her voice. "I've seen its skies and its oceans, its music, its chaos, its beauty. I want to set foot there myself. I want to breathe its air, walk among its people, and see what gives birth to such warriors as the Riders."
Her father's jaw clenched. "You speak of beauty, but Earth is a dangerous place. It has drawn invaders from beyond the stars. Its history is one of conflict, treachery, and blood. Do you think yourself safe there?"
Qirnaz tilted her head slightly. Her golden eyes glowed brighter. "I am not asking for safety. I am asking for freedom. You have taught me that a true heir must know more than the art of war. If I am to inherit your legacy, Father, then I must know more than weapons and victories. I must understand life itself."
Veylak's gaze bore into her, searching, testing. In her words he saw his own fire—unyielding, fearless, unwilling to bend. For a long while he said nothing.
Finally, his lips curved into a rare, low chuckle. "Defiant, even before your general. You are truly my daughter."
He turned to the balcony, staring out at the twin moons. "Very well. If you wish to set foot upon Earth, then so be it. But you will not go alone."
Qirnaz's visor-bright eyes widened slightly. "You mean—"
"You will take a bodyguard," Veylak said firmly, his voice like iron striking stone. "If you must wander into danger, then someone must stand at your side. You may choose one protector—only one. No more, no less."
Relief and excitement surged through Qirnaz. He had not forbidden her. The path to Earth was open. She placed one hand over her chest, where her white skin glowed faintly beneath the moons.
"Thank you, Father. I will not bring shame to your name."
Veylak stepped closer, resting a heavy, clawed hand on her shoulder. His touch was warm, grounding her as his voice carried the weight of his command.
"Remember this, Qirnaz: you are not merely a traveler. You are Vairton's daughter. You carry our honor with you. Should you falter, your failure will echo across the stars."
Her eyes glowed fiercely. "I will not falter."
The general's hand lingered for a moment longer, then he withdrew and turned away, his cape sweeping like a shadow. "Then go, Daughter of Veylak. See this Earth with your own eyes. But do not forget who you are."
Qirnaz bowed deeply. "I will not forget."
When he left, she returned to the balcony. The night stretched wide and endless, but the stars felt closer now, brighter, as though they had been waiting for her choice. Her gaze sought out the distant speck of blue among the stars.
Earth.
Her journey was no longer a dream. It was destiny.
And Qirnaz was ready to embrace it.