In the dimly lit confines of his office at the police station, Captain George Stacy sat at his desk, his weathered hands spread across photographs that defied explanation. His eyes were fixed on the blurry images before him, evidence of something that challenged his understanding of reality.
The photos, though not perfectly clear, captured two impossible figures: a humanoid rat-like creature and an armored warrior resembling an insect. These weren't costume-wearing criminals—the brutal serial killings linked to the rat creature proved that much.
Earlier that day, after receiving reports of the murderous creature, George had mobilized his entire precinct. But when they arrived at the scene, they encountered not just one monster, but two locked in fierce combat.
"What are we dealing with here?" George muttered, his fingers tracing the outline of the mysterious figures in the photographs. His years of experience as a police captain hadn't prepared him for this—creatures that seemed to step right out of science fiction, bringing very real danger to his city.
The blurry photographs on his desk might not be perfect, but they were undeniable proof. Something extraordinary and potentially dangerous was loose in New York, and as Captain of the NYPD, it was his responsibility to protect the citizens from whatever these beings were.
Someone knocks on the door, and a police officer stepped inside, his uniform wrinkled and his expression grim.
"Captain," the officer said, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
George looked up from his desk. "How are our men?" he asked, though the officer's demeanor had already given him a sense of the answer.
"Not good, sir. We've lost several good officers, and most of the survivors are in critical condition," the officer reported, his eyes inadvertently drawn to the photographs spread across the captain's desk.
"God..." George muttered, the weight of responsibility pressing heavily on his shoulders.
The officer's gaze lingered on the strange images—one showing what appeared to be an armored warrior, the other a grotesque rat-like creature. "What's our approach regarding these... beings, Captain?"
George's weathered face hardened with determination. "We'll neutralize them. I'm putting in a request for higher-caliber weapons. These aren't ordinary perpetrators we're dealing with."
"Understood, Captain."
"One more thing," George added, his voice softening slightly. "Notify the families of our fallen officers, but keep the details classified. We can't let word of these monsters reach the public—it would only cause widespread panic."
"Yes, sir." The officer straightened, offered a crisp salute, and left the office.
Alone once more, George's attention returned to the photographs on his desk. His fingers traced the edges of the images—Kuuga and the Rat Grongi—as he made a silent vow to bring an end to this threat, whatever the cost.
…
Moonlight filtered through the windows of Café Pole Pole as Ace stepped inside. The familiar bell chimed softly, announcing his arrival to the nearly empty establishment.
"Welcome back," Pops called out from behind the counter, his expression a mix of relief and concern. "It's already so late."
"Ah, sorry, Pops," Ace replied, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "The streets around here are still unfamiliar to me. I got a bit lost."
Pops's eyes softened with understanding. "The more you explore, the better you'll know your way around," he said, then his tone grew serious. "But be careful at night. There are gang wars in the streets, and those serial killings haven't stopped. Stay safe, alright?"
"Yes, I'll keep that in mind," Ace assured him. "I'll finish locking up the shop and then head back to my room."
"Alright, see you tomorrow." With a gentle wave, Pops leaves the cafe, leaving Ace alone with his thoughts.
After securing the café, Ace retreated to his room. He collapsed onto his bed, exhaustion seeping into his bones. "That was tiring..."
His mind wandered to the earlier confrontation with the Rat Grongi. The creature had slipped through his fingers, and now the police were aware of his existence. The image of George Stacy—a figure he'd only known through comics and movies until today—flashed in his mind. Ace knew the police would be hunting him now, and a wave of gratitude washed over him as he remembered how the armor had protected him from their bullets. Without it, he would have been riddled with holes.
Fighting the Grongi was proving more challenging than he'd anticipated. His fingers unconsciously traced the outline of the Arcle on his waist. If only he could access the Mighty Form, he could end these battles more swiftly.
"Why can't I transform into that form..." he murmured into the darkness, his voice tinged with frustration and determination.
Ace lay in bed, his mind drifting to Kamen Rider Kuuga. The image of the mighty red warrior filled his thoughts—a hero who stood against darkness and fought for hope.
Yusuke Godai was an ordinary young man until destiny called upon him. When he first discovered the Arcle, a mystical belt of ancient origins, his life changed forever. As he placed the belt around his waist, determination burned in his eyes—a fierce resolve to stand against the terrifying Grongi who threatened humanity.
The power of Mighty Form awakened within him not through chance, but through his unwavering desire to protect others. While many would have run from such responsibility, Godai embraced it, channeling his natural compassion into the strength needed to fight. His mission wasn't born from a desire for power or glory, but from a simple, pure wish: to preserve the smiles of people around him.
"I'll protect everyone's smiles," he would often say, his voice carrying both gentleness and iron resolve.
Despite having no special abilities of his own before finding the Arcle, Godai's heart proved to be his greatest weapon. He transformed from an average person into humanity's guardian, taking up the mantle of Kuuga with unwavering dedication.
"Maybe I'm still... hesitating?" Ace whispered into the darkness. "That can't be right. Being a Kamen Rider has always been my dream. Why would I hesitate now?"
The memories came unbidden—Dark Kiva's imposing figure and the haunting image of the little girl he couldn't save. The weight of these thoughts pressed heavily on his heart.
Ace remained silent for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the ceiling above.
"I should get some sleep," he murmured softly, trying to push the troubling thoughts aside.
He closed his eyes, knowing tomorrow would bring another day of work. As sleep began to overtake him, the memories of both heroes and failures continued to dance at the edges of his consciousness.
***
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Advance chapters are in my P@|r3on - Najicablitz