"I… I remember…" Ren whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of it all. "I was… I was killed… they were all killed…"
"Yes, indeed, my little Ren," the cat purred, its voice dripping with a mix of mockery and familiarity. But this time, there was a hint of something more—an undertone of authority that sent a shiver down Ren's spine.
Ren's eyes snapped to the cat, confusion still clouding his mind. "Wait, who are you?!" he demanded, his voice breaking as he fell to his knees, clutching at his head as the memories came crashing back, stinging his thoughts with their painful clarity.
The cat's tail wagged slowly from side to side, its tone as playful as its movements. "You mean you don't remember? It is I, the number before one, the same as nothing."
"What are you talking about?" Ren's voice was strained, desperate as he begged, "Can you please just tell me what is going on?"
The cat sighed theatrically, a look of exaggerated disappointment crossing its otherworldly features. "You're no fun. But fine, let me drop the charade."
With those words, the cat's form began to ripple, distorting as if seen through a heatwave. The black fur seemed to shimmer, melting away like ink in water, revealing something—or rather, someone—entirely different. The small, feline body stretched, morphed, and expanded until what stood before Ren was not a cat, but a tall, imposing figure cloaked in a flowing black coat. His hair was white as snow, cascading down his back, and his eyes—those same galaxy-filled eyes—glowed with a deep, unnatural light.
"It is I, Zero," the figure said, his voice now a deep, resonant echo that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. "The number before one, the same as nothing. I took this form to move unnoticed among the humans and Voiders. A cat is, after all, an excellent observer."
Ren stared at Zero, his mind spinning as he tried to reconcile the playful cat with this otherworldly being now standing before him. "You're Zero?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "You were the cat this whole time?"
"Yes," Zero replied, his lips curling into a smirk. "It was amusing, and practical. I had to ensure the Voiders didn't sniff out my presence. But now that you're back, we can dispense with the charades. You've been chosen for a purpose, Ren, and it's time you learned what that means."
Ren slowly got to his feet, still shaky but growing more resolute with each passing moment. The rain had slackened, but it continued to fall in a soft drizzle, washing away the mud and grime. "So what now?" Ren asked, his voice hardened by the anger and confusion boiling within him. "What am I supposed to do with these 'powers' you keep talking about?"
Zero's eyes gleamed with a knowing light as he reached into his coat and pulled out a small object. He held it up between his fingers, and Ren saw that it was a ring—simple, yet elegant, made of a dark, gleaming metal. The face of the ring bore a skull and crossbones, its empty eye sockets staring back at Ren with an eerie stillness.
"This, Ren, is the key to your new abilities," Zero said, holding the ring out to him. "Wear it, and you will be able to sense the presence of Voiders, even when they are hidden within their human hosts. You will gain strength and speed beyond anything you've known, but most importantly, when you face a powerful enemy, you can invoke the ring's power."
Ren took the ring, its weight cool and solid in his palm. "And how exactly do I do that?"
"When the time comes," Zero explained, "all you need to do is call upon the ring and recite the incantation: 'Death comes for us all.' When you do, you will transform into something far greater than yourself—into the Grim Rider, a warrior who is both the hunter and the hunted, clad in the armor of the dead."
Ren stared at the ring, his mind racing. Everything about this felt surreal, like a dream he couldn't wake up from. But the memories of his death, the sight of his friends being slaughtered, and the overwhelming need for vengeance anchored him to the reality of it all. He slipped the ring onto his finger, feeling a surge of energy as the metal seemed to meld with his skin, becoming a part of him.
"Try it out," Zero urged, stepping back with a sly smile. "Let's see if you're ready for this."
Ren hesitated for only a moment before nodding, the words already forming in his mind. He took a deep breath, feeling the power of the ring pulsing against his skin, and then spoke the incantation:
"Death comes for us all."
The moment the words left his lips, the ring began to glow with an eerie, otherworldly light. The air around Ren crackled with energy, the temperature dropping as a cold wind whipped through the cemetery. The light from the ring intensified, enveloping Ren in a blinding white glow that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of reality.
Ren could feel the transformation begin, his body changing in ways he couldn't comprehend. His muscles tightened, expanded, as raw power coursed through his veins. His senses sharpened, the world around him coming into hyper-focus as every sound, every movement, became clear and distinct. The leather jacket he had worn in life shifted, merging with the new armor that formed around his body—a suit of black, skeletal armor that hugged his form like a second skin, the bones etched with intricate patterns that seemed to pulse with life.
The helmet formed last, snapping into place around Ren's head with a hiss of compressed air. The visor was shaped like a skull, its eye sockets glowing with a toxic green light, giving Ren the appearance of a living specter. His hands flexed inside armored gauntlets, and as he looked down at himself, he felt an overwhelming surge of power—a power that was both exhilarating and terrifying.
Zero watched with a satisfied smile, nodding approvingly as the transformation completed. "Perfect," he murmured, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. "You are now the Grim Rider, Ren. The Voiders will tremble before you, as well they should."
Ren took a moment to adjust to the new sensations—the weight of the armor, the heightened awareness, the sheer force of the power within him. It was intoxicating, but also sobering, a reminder of the responsibility he now bore.
"This… this is incredible," Ren said, his voice slightly distorted by the helmet's built-in modulator. "I feel… unstoppable."
"And you must be," Zero said, his tone serious as he approached Ren. "The Voiders are not to be underestimated. They are cunning, powerful, and they thrive on the suffering of others. But with this power, you can stop them. You can avenge your friends, protect the innocent, and fulfill the purpose for which you were chosen."
Ren clenched his fists, the metal gauntlets creaking with the pressure. The memories of his death, the faces of his friends, the image of Delylah's lifeless body—they all came rushing back, fueling the fire inside him. "I'll do it," he said, his voice filled with determination. "I'll hunt them down, every last one of them."
Zero nodded, his smile returning. "Good. Then your path is clear, Grim Rider. The hunt begins now."
As the words hung in the air, Ren could feel the power of the transformation surging within him, ready to be unleashed. The cemetery around him, once a place of death and despair, now seemed to pulse with life—a life that Ren had reclaimed, a life that he would use to bring death to those who deserved it.
Ren looked down at his armored hands, the power coursing through his veins begging to be tested. He needed to know just how strong he had become, how much this transformation had truly altered him. His eyes darted around the cemetery until they locked onto a large, sturdy oak tree standing a short distance away, its thick trunk weathered by decades of storms and age.
Without thinking, Ren took a step forward, then another, until he stood directly in front of the tree. He could feel the energy humming within him, pulsing with every beat of his heart. Balling his hand into a fist, Ren pulled back and unleashed a punch with all his newfound strength.
The impact was immediate, the force of his punch sending a shockwave through the air. The thick oak trunk cracked with a deafening sound, splintering from the point of contact and breaking clean in half. The top half of the tree groaned as it fell, crashing to the ground with a thunderous boom that echoed throughout the cemetery, leaves and branches scattering in all directions.
Ren stood there, staring at his fist in disbelief, his chest heaving as he tried to process what he had just done. "Holy shit," he muttered, shocked at the sheer power he now possessed.
But before he could fully grasp the extent of his strength, an uneasy feeling washed over him—an unnatural sensation that prickled at the edges of his consciousness. It wasn't physical pain, but rather an insidious, creeping dread that seemed to seep into his very bones. It was faint, but unmistakable, like a distant, foul odor carried on the wind.
Ren looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sensation, his eyes scanning the darkened cemetery for any sign of movement. "What is this awful feeling?" he asked, his voice tinged with both curiosity and concern.
Perched on a nearby tombstone, Zero watched Ren with an amused expression, his arms crossed over his chest. "That, my dear Ren, might be the whole 'sensing of Voiders nearby' thing I was telling you about," Zero replied nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Ren's eyes narrowed as he continued to scan the area, the sense of dread growing stronger with each passing moment. It was as if something dark and malevolent was lurking just out of sight, watching him, waiting. He could almost smell it—a sickly, rotting scent that made his stomach churn. But no matter where he looked, he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.
"Well, I guess you can't just go running into battle now, can you?" Zero continued, his tone light and playful despite the situation. "That wouldn't be cool, would it?"
Before Ren could respond, Zero brought two fingers to his lips and let out a sharp, piercing whistle that cut through the night air. The sound echoed across the cemetery, and for a moment, everything was still. Then, in the distance, Ren heard it—a low, beastly growl, the unmistakable sound of an engine roaring to life. The ground beneath him seemed to vibrate as the sound grew louder, closer, until it filled the air with a primal, mechanical fury.
Ren turned toward the source of the noise, his eyes widening as he saw a sleek, black motorcycle tearing through the darkness toward him. The bike was like nothing he had ever seen before—its design both brutal and beautiful, a perfect fusion of death and power. The front of the motorcycle bore a menacing skull, its hollow eyes glowing with a fierce, otherworldly light. Gold details and rims gleamed under the moonlight, and from the exhaust pipes, thick black smoke billowed out like the breath of some ancient, slumbering beast.
The motorcycle skidded to a stop in front of Ren, its engine growling like a caged animal ready to be unleashed. Ren could feel the heat radiating from the bike, the raw power thrumming beneath its surface.
Zero smirked, hopping down from the tombstone and strolling over to the bike with a casual grace. "This," he said, patting the seat of the motorcycle, "is your ride, kid."
Ren approached the bike cautiously, his hand hovering over the engine. He could feel the machine's energy resonating with his own, as if the bike were an extension of his newly acquired powers. The engine purred under his touch, almost as if it recognized him, as if it were alive.
"This is the Last Ride," Zero said, his voice taking on a more serious tone as he watched Ren. "It's more than just a motorcycle—it's a weapon, a tool, and a partner in your fight against the Voiders. It's bound to you, just like the ring. Treat it well, and it will serve you better than any weapon or ally ever could."
Ren nodded, understanding the gravity of Zero's words. He swung his leg over the bike, settling into the seat as the powerful machine rumbled beneath him. The moment he gripped the handlebars, he felt a surge of adrenaline course through his veins, the bike's power merging with his own.
With a deep breath, Ren reached down and revved the engine. The Last Ride roared in response, its growl filling the night air with a sound that was both terrifying and exhilarating. Ren could feel the vibrations through his entire body, the thrill of speed and power ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice.
"This is incredible," Ren said, his voice barely audible over the noise of the engine.
Zero grinned, clearly pleased with Ren's reaction. "It's all yours, Ren. Now, let's see what you can do. There's a world out there that needs saving—or should I say, avenging."
Ren revved the engine once more, the exhaust pipes belching black smoke as the bike practically begged to be set loose. The uneasy feeling in his gut, the faint sense of a Voider lurking nearby, faded into the background as the sheer power of the Last Ride consumed him.
Without another word, Ren twisted the throttle, and the bike shot forward with a burst of speed that took his breath away. The cemetery blurred around him as he tore through the night, the wind whipping past him, the engine's growl like a primal roar in his ears.
Zero watched as Ren revved the engine one final time, the powerful roar of the Last Ride echoing through the dark cemetery. The faint glow from the cemetery's distant lamps cast long shadows, adding an eerie ambiance to the scene. Zero's eyes, still glowing with that cosmic light, narrowed in satisfaction.
"Go on, Ren," Zero said, his voice carrying a tone of both command and reassurance. "Go find those Voiders and send them back to the void they crawled out of. And when you're done, come back. We have much to discuss."
Ren nodded, his face set in determination. With a final look at Zero, he turned the handlebars and twisted the throttle, sending the Last Ride tearing down the path out of the cemetery. The bike responded instantly, its engine howling like a beast unleashed, a black streak ripping through the night.
As Ren sped away, the world around him seemed to blur, the trees and gravestones turning into mere shadows on the periphery of his vision. The Last Ride wasn't just fast—it was something beyond that, moving through space in a way that defied the natural order. It was as if the bike traveled within its own dimension, a space between worlds, where time and distance folded in on themselves. The streets and buildings of the city were familiar, but the edges of reality seemed to warp as he passed by, like an old memory distorted by time.
He sped through the city at an impossible speed, the wind screaming in his ears, yet the world around him remained almost silent, as if the bike existed in a bubble that cut off all sound and light from the outside world. He could see the city's skyline in the distance, buildings that had once towered over him as a child now blurred into streaks of light. The old streets, the parks where he had once slept as a runaway orphan—they all flashed by in a heartbeat. He recognized them, each place etched into his memory from the days before he had met his bandmates, before he had found a semblance of family.
The bike roared beneath him, eating up the distance as Ren honed in on the source of that nagging feeling in his gut. The sense of dread grew stronger, more defined, as if the Voiders themselves were calling to him, daring him to come and face them. The streets became narrower, more familiar, until the Last Ride brought him to a place that made his heart skip a beat.
The Devil's Lullaby.
The neon sign that once flickered in welcoming hues was dark now, the windows boarded up, the life and laughter that had once filled the place long gone. Ren's jaw tightened as he coasted down the alleyway behind the bar, the bike's engine rumbling softly now, more like a growl of anticipation than the roar it had been before.
The memories of the nights spent here, the music, the camaraderie, all surged back to him, threatening to overwhelm him, but he pushed them down, focusing instead on the task at hand.
Ren parked the bike in the shadows of the alley, the Last Ride coming to a smooth halt. The moment he dismounted, the transformation began to reverse. The black armor of the Grim Rider peeled away, dissolving into the air like smoke, leaving Ren in his familiar, human form once more. He felt the power recede, but it still hummed beneath his skin, ready to be called upon whenever he needed it.
He walked toward the side door where he and his bandmates had always had access, the door that led straight to the back room, where they used to hang out before and after gigs. But when he reached it, he stopped short.
The door was chained shut, a heavy lock securing the thick metal links in place. Rust had begun to creep across the chains, and Ren's heart sank at the sight.
"Guess it's the front door, then," Ren muttered to himself, giving the Last Ride a reassuring pat before making his way back around to the front of the bar.
The scene outside the bar was both familiar and strange. A crowd had gathered, people milling about with cigarettes in hand, laughing and chatting as they leaned against the building's weathered facade. The smell of smoke and alcohol hung thick in the air, mingling with the distant sounds of the city. It was a scene that Ren had been part of so many times before, but now, it felt different—distant, like something from another life.
Keeping his head down, Ren pushed his way through the crowd, weaving between groups of people who barely noticed him. His mind was focused on the task at hand, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia as he walked past familiar faces, people who had once been regulars at Fred's, faces that now seemed to belong to another world.