Kiss of the Vampire
"The Void"
Mission 3 : The Great Sage of light
"When mortals failed to see the truth, the one who once defied the heavens descended once more."-unknown
The storm finally settled—just for a second. The field was nothing but molten earth and floating debris. The sky itself looked torn, streaked with black smoke and dying light. Rolien's boots scraped against the cracked ground as he forced himself up, coughing through the smoke.
Not far from him, Kieth—still in Decade's armor—was dragging himself out of a crater, armor dented and glowing faintly from the heat. "That guy," he muttered, panting, "he tanked all of that?"
Rolien's eyes narrowed. He could still feel the tremor under his feet, like the heartbeat of something waking up. Then—he saw him.
Deyviel.
The miasma around him wasn't just clinging anymore—it was merging with him. His skin pulsed faintly, like molten cracks spreading through flesh, and the black veins along his neck glowed a sickly crimson. His once-white hair flickered between shades of silver and black, swaying as invisible pressure rippled from him.
Rolien felt his heart sink.
"His body… it's changing."
Kieth turned sharply. "Changing? You mean—"
Before he could finish, Deyviel raised his head. His eyes—one red, one burning blue—met theirs, and the air warped.
The next instant, Rolien moved. He dashed forward, spirit energy bursting around him as his Hollowveil Forge lit up with azure light. He slammed a glowing fist straight at Deyviel's jaw—only for it to stop mid-swing.
Something invisible caught it.
Deyviel's hand, wreathed in that same ghostly blue, was mirroring Rolien's movement perfectly. A counter-echo.
Rolien's eyes widened. He copied my spirit energy signature?!
With a twist of his wrist, Deyviel deflected the attack and backhanded Rolien across the face, sending him flying. Then, before Kieth could react, Deyviel extended his arm—blue energy flaring into a familiar circular device on his wrist.
Kieth froze. "You gotta be kidding me…"
A distorted Rider belt formed out of thin air—shadowy, corrupted, but unmistakably modeled after Kieth's. Deyviel's mouth curved into a grin that wasn't his own.
"Let's see how your little toy handles its reflection."
A mechanical voice echoed:
"Henshin."
And in a flash of corrupted crimson, armor snapped into place over Deyviel's body—twisted, cracked, but eerily similar to Kieth's Kabuto form. His dragonic aura fused with it, making the metallic plates breathe like living muscle.
Kieth cursed and shifted into Blade King Form again, brandishing the Royal Sword. "Oh hell no! You're not stealing my gig, man!"
They clashed. Sparks scattered like meteor showers—Kabuto vs corrupted Kabuto. Deyviel matched every Rider kick, every slash, every burst of light. When Kieth summoned a light barrier, Deyviel's mirrored instantly and overpowered it, crushing him under the feedback.
Rolien lunged back in, flipping his prosthetic into Gerbarra's punchline mode. He fired a rocket punch—but Deyviel caught it midair and twisted it back toward him, detonating it right in Rolien's face.
Rolien tumbled through the dirt, smoke rising off his armor. "He's—he's learning mid-battle. Every move we make…"
Kieth skidded beside him, blood running from his lip. "He's adapting. Like a damn virus."
Rolien's eyes flared. "No. Like evolution. The miasma… it's rewriting his body, using his Mark of the Abyss to simulate whatever he fights."
Deyviel's distorted voice broke through the haze—two tones overlapping, one human, one monstrous.
"You both… can't win."
The ground cracked as he launched forward, faster than before, wings of dark flame unfurling behind him. Kieth braced, shifting again—
"Kamen Rider W! Cyclone Joker!"
—and a green-black cyclone roared between them. Rolien's Forge pulsed in rhythm, spirit fire gathering into his arms as he met Deyviel head-on.
The clash was apocalyptic. Each strike created shockwaves that flattened the landscape, each deflection sending shock-light rippling through the sky.
Deyviel wasn't just fighting now—he was playing with them. Countering, predicting, matching. Every time Kieth switched forms, Deyviel mirrored the power, mixing it with his dragonic strength. Every time Rolien enhanced his body with spirit, Deyviel's aura adapted and nullified the pressure.
Rolien gritted his teeth as Deyviel grabbed both their heads and slammed them together, sparks flying. "He's reading us—like he's fought us a thousand times before!"
"Maybe he has," Kieth spat, pushing him off. "If he's my future, maybe he already knows every move I'll make!"
Rolien's fists flared, the earth beneath him cracking. "Then we'll just have to show him something we haven't done yet."
Both turned toward Deyviel, whose monstrous grin stretched wider, wings beating with the rhythm of battle.
"Come on then," he growled, voice dripping with both rage and excitement. "Show me what fate forgot to teach you."
And the three blurred forward again—steel, spirit, and fury colliding, tearing the battlefield apart all over again.
The air trembled as the three unleashed their final attacks. Rolien's Gerbarra Mode roared to life—his entire body cloaked in a storm of spirit energy shaped like a beast's maw, the Final Beast Roar building in his hands. Kieth's armor flared open, the Decade Driver humming with furious energy as dozens of Rider Cards manifested around him, feeding his Ultimate Decade Strike—a kaleidoscope of colors converging into one devastating burst.
Deyviel, now barely recognizable, howled as his aura warped into a dragonic storm. His wings of black flame tore through the air, his eyes glowing crimson as he raised Yamato. "You two really think I'll fall that easily?!" His voice boomed with a resonance that wasn't entirely his own. He slashed downward—a crescent slash of pure destructive light, a wave like Ichigo's Getsuga Tenshō, that ripped apart the sky itself.
Their powers collided—spirit, divine tech, and dragonic might—meeting at the heart of the field. The ground shattered into molten light, and the air screamed. Just before impact—
BOOM!
Something crashed down between them with a sound like thunder. A pillar of golden wind burst outward, scattering all three back. Rolien's beast form faltered, Kieth's armor sparked violently, and even Deyviel's dragon aura cracked from the sudden force.
As the dust cleared, a tall man stood there—robes flowing, staff glowing faintly with ancient sigils. His calm eyes held both warmth and terrifying authority.
Rolien's expression softened immediately. "Y-you…" he muttered, lowering his stance. "The one from my dreams…"
Kieth's eyes widened too, voice low but certain. "Twice now… you always show up before a damn turning point."
The man smiled faintly. "It seems fate enjoys bringing troublesome children together."
But Deyviel only frowned, tightening his grip on Yamato. "Who the hell are you supposed to be?"
The man turned his gaze toward him—patient, almost sorrowful. "I am called many things. But to your friends here… I am the Great Sage."
Deyviel's scowl deepened, his instincts screaming danger. Rolien and Kieth, however, exchanged tense glances. They knew this man wasn't just powerful—he was the one who guided them here, through dreams and fragments of fate.
Rolien's system pinged suddenly in his vision:
[SYSTEM NOTICE: "Great Sage" detected. Supreme Being classification: UNKNOWN. Caution advised.]
The Great Sage looked up at the still-swirling sky where their clashing powers had torn reality open. "So this is what you've become," he murmured quietly. "Angelic Users of spirit and void… and the one who carries destruction's curse."
He raised his staff, and the air froze. "Enough blood between brothers. The real war hasn't even begun."
The Great Sage lowered his staff, and the raging energy storm around them calmed as if the world itself obeyed his will. The crimson sky faded into gray, and the ground, once fractured by divine and spirit energy, slowly stitched itself back together.
Deyviel still struggled, his breath sharp, aura flickering violently. The dragonic energy around him writhed like it wanted to consume him whole. He staggered forward, trying to swing Yamato again, but his body trembled—miasma leaked from his veins, twisting his flesh into shadow.
The Sage raised a single finger. "Enough, child."
In an instant, golden chains of pure light emerged from the air and wrapped around Deyviel's body. The miasma screamed—yes, screamed—like it had a will of its own. Deyviel gasped as his vision turned white.
"Get… out of me—!!" he growled, falling to his knees.
The Great Sage's staff glowed brighter, his voice echoing through the minds of everyone present. "You are not a servant of rot. Nor a pawn of chaos. Be free from the curse of the Outer Gods!"
A golden sigil expanded beneath them, swallowing the darkness in waves. The ground cracked open with a sound like exorcised thunder as the black tendrils tore out from Deyviel's chest, writhing and dissolving into ash. The miasma screamed one last time before evaporating into motes of light.
Rolien felt it first—the sudden purity of the air, the stillness that followed.
Kieth watched in silence, his armor slowly retracting, eyes flickering back to human.
When it was done, Deyviel fell forward, breathing heavily. His dragon aura was gone. Only faint steam rose from his shoulders.
The Sage knelt beside him, gently placing a hand on his back. "There. The curse is gone… for now."
Deyviel coughed, spitting blood. "For now…?"
The Sage nodded, eyes distant. "You were chosen to carry a fragment of Destruction's power. Severing it permanently would mean killing you. I've only weakened its grip—your will must hold it back."
He stood again, looking at all three of them. His voice softened but carried the weight of centuries.
"I brought you together for one reason—to stop the Outer Gods. You are not enemies. You are the counterbalance this dying multiverse has left."
Rolien clenched his fist, guilt flickering in his chest. "Then… we've been wasting time."
Kieth crossed his arms, scowling at the ground. "Guess the gods got what they wanted. We did their job for them."
The Sage's gaze drifted to the horizon, his expression solemn. "That's why I had to intervene. You three are my final hope. I can no longer stand against them directly…"
Rolien frowned. "What do you mean?"
The Sage raised his right hand. It shimmered faintly—and then, to their horror, it began turning translucent. His fingers flickered like fading light.
"The balance of existence rejects me," he said calmly, even as his body wavered. "I've intervened too much, crossed too many timelines. My essence is unraveling."
Kieth stepped forward. "Wait—there's gotta be something we can do!"
The Sage smiled faintly, the kind of smile that knew the end was already written. "There is. Win. End the cycle. Destroy the Outer Gods before this world fades."
His form flickered again, half his torso now see-through, the winds swirling around him like dust in sunlight.
Rolien's voice shook. "If you disappear… who'll guide us?"
"You already have what you need," the Sage replied, pressing a glowing sigil into Rolien's chest. "My knowledge, my blessings, and your bond. Remember—alone, you fall. Together, you become the sword that pierces the abyss."
He turned to Deyviel one last time. "And you… prove that destiny can be rewritten."
Deyviel met his gaze, silent, the first hint of emotion breaking through his cold eyes.
The Sage's form became pure light now, his voice echoing faintly as it faded.
"Go, my children. The Outer Gods are watching… but so am I."
And with that, the Great Sage vanished—leaving behind a still world, three exhausted warriors, and the heavy truth that they were the last hope against the gods themselves.
The silence after the Sage's disappearance lingered heavy and sacred. Only the faint hum of the dissipating golden light remained, bathing the three in its fading warmth.
Deyviel stood quietly, gripping Yamato's hilt. His hand trembled—not from weakness, but from shame. His dragon aura was gone now, leaving only the faint glow of exhaustion in his eyes. He let out a ragged breath, eyes lowered. "Sorry… I was—"
Rolien cut him off with a light grin, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, brother. We understand. Let's just call it… venting out some steam." He winked, trying to lighten the mood.
A dry laugh escaped Kieth as he dusted off his jacket. "Heh. Yeah, nothing like trying to kill each other to blow off tension." He stepped closer, flipping something between his fingers—a glowing med-kit cube marked with golden runes. "Alright. Now that that's out of our way…" He smirked. "Let's save the damn world."
He tossed the med-kit toward them. The moment Rolien and Deyviel caught it, the cube pulsed with divine light. It burst into warmth that wrapped around their bodies like a healing tide. Deep cuts sealed shut. Bruises faded. Even the fatigue weighing down their souls evaporated in seconds.
"Whoa! Awesome, dude!" Rolien said, stretching his arms. His body felt brand new, humming with vitality.
Kieth grinned beneath his mask. "High-class restoration kit from the goddess's armory. Don't ask how I got it."
Deyviel chuckled lowly, sliding Yamato back into its sheath with a satisfying click. "Heh. Show off." His crimson eyes hardened with renewed focus. "Anyway… let's go fuck those sons of bitches."
Their energies flared once again—spirit, divine, and draconic—merging into a storm that made the earth tremble beneath them. But before they could charge, a familiar voice echoed from behind.
"Wait up!"
They turned—and their eyes widened.
Ben, Maya, Josh, Ethan, Mizuno, Emily, Kliev, and Cymac stood there, battle-worn but alive, their weapons gleaming under the storm-lit sky.
Ben stepped forward, his crimson aura igniting like wildfire. "You didn't think we'd let you three hog all the glory, did you?"
Maya smiled faintly, gripping Kael's katana. "Besides… you'll need all the help you can get."
Josh spun his sword once, resting it over his shoulder. "About time we bring the fight to the gods."
Rolien looked at Kieth, then at Deyviel. None of them spoke—only exchanged a single nod that said everything.
Kieth smirked. "Let's end this."
All of them crouched slightly, power gathering beneath their feet. The air cracked with energy so dense it made the clouds churn like a hurricane.
"Ready…" Rolien said.
"Set…" Kieth followed, his armor flashing through multiple Rider forms in a blur.
"Go!" Deyviel roared, dragonic wings of aura flaring open behind him.
In the next instant, they all exploded forward—eight lights streaking through the battlefield like shooting stars, tearing across the shattered world toward the distant shadows where the Outer Gods waited.
And far ahead, deep within the abyssal horizon, Xexaria and Thokk stood watching from their throne of rot and chaos—smiling.
The ground shook.
The sky split open.
And the war for creation had finally begun.
—TO BE CONTINUED—