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A Rider Kick in Marvel Rewrite Vol 2 Ch 62
🕑 Added 2025-07-23 15:20:52 +0000 UTCIn a deserted alleyway, Ace finally wrestles control back, slumping against a wall as the red armor fades. He sighs, rubbing his temples. Those Pro Heroes are persistent, Momotaros gripes inside Ace’s head.
It’s the usual, Ace replies, fatigue tugging at his limbs. I need to figure out what the Crow Imagin is up to before things get worse. He glances at his surroundings, noting the graffiti-covered walls and overflowing trash cans. Musutafu. Always something cooking here, huh?
And that kid, Ace thinks, I gotta make sure he doesn't become a liability. Or worse. The image of Asahi, charging into the fray with a broken pipe, flashes in his mind. The raw courage is admirable, Ace thinks, but raw courage only gets you so far against Inves and Imagin.
Ace starts to head out of the narrow passage, intent on locating the Crow Imagin and putting a stop to whatever twisted scheme it has cooked up. But something catches his eye.
At the corner of the alleyway, nestled between a dumpster and a crumbling brick wall, grows a patch of vegetation. Weird. He stops, squinting. The plants don’t look like normal weeds. The leaves are too broad, too glossy, with strange, thorned vines snaking around the base. And that sickly green glow…
What's wrong? Momotaros asks. You see somethin' shiny?
"These plants," Ace mutters. "They're not normal."
He takes a step closer, kneeling for a better look. The vines twist in unnatural patterns, almost as if they're alive. They look wrong. Ace follows the trail of this vegetation. At first, just a few scattered leaves, then a thicker scattering, a carpet of green. The trail leads him deeper into the rundown district, away from the main streets and further into the urban decay. The plants grow denser with every step. They cling to the sides of buildings, climb over abandoned vehicles, turning the grimy streets into a bizarre, overgrown maze.
The path leads him to an old factory, its windows boarded up, its walls scarred with years of neglect. The metal gate hangs open like a rusted jaw. The air hangs heavy with the smell of damp earth and decay. Vines creep around the factory's entrance. Ace steps inside. The place is dark, the air thick with dust and the scent of something vaguely sweet, yet rotten.
He makes his way cautiously through the factory's skeletal interior. Twisted metal and shattered glass cover the floor. The vegetation becomes even more intense, practically consuming the space. The deeper he goes, the stronger the feeling intensifies. A feeling that something is wrong. He turns a corner.
And there it is.
A Crack.
It shimmers in the air like heat rising off asphalt, but this is no mirage. This spatial rift pulses with neon-green light, its edges fractured like shattered glass. A swirling vortex of leaves and debris dances within the opening, hinting at a world beyond. Vines, thick as pythons, writhe around the Crack's perimeter, pulsing with the same sickly green energy. It is a doorway to the Helheim forest.
Ace stares. A Crack? Here? This is bad.
You think? Momotaros spits. That looks like trouble with a capital T!
No joke, Urataros drawls. That's not exactly a portal to a tropical beach.
We must destroy it, Kintaros booms.
What do you mean by that, Ryutaros asks, what is the goal?
A Crack left unchecked means Inves, a Helheim invasion. This world has enough problems without those freaks added to the mix. He knows what this means. Dai-Shocker is involved. The Crow Imagin probably opened the door. The real question: Why? What are they planning?
Better find out, he thinks.
Ace steels his resolve. No time for hesitation. He steps toward the Crack. Alright, guys, buckle up. We're going for a walk in the woods.
He walks directly into the Crack.
The world explodes into a kaleidoscope of sickly greens and browns. The putrid stench of rotting vegetation fills Ace’s lungs. The air hangs heavy, humid, and oppressive. Towering trees with gnarled branches blot out the sun, casting the forest floor in eternal twilight. The ground is a morass of decaying leaves and tangled vines, making each step a struggle. Bioluminescent fungi illuminate the landscape with an eerie glow. Twisted shapes dominate the landscape. A new reality, and Ace doesn't like it.
"Welcome to Helheim," Urataros whispers.
Smells awful, Ryutaros whines. Can we go home now?
The change in scenery only makes Ace more concerned.
He needs to know what's going on. He takes a deep breath.
Ace moves forward.
He proceeds, sticking close to the Crack to not lose his way back. The forest floor is uneven, treacherous. He focuses on each step, avoiding the grasping vines and slick patches of decaying matter.
He spots movement through the dense foliage. Ace freezes, dropping into a crouch behind a massive, gnarled tree trunk. He peers through the leaves, his senses on high alert.
A group of Inves.
They mill about in a small clearing, their forms a bizarre mix of animalistic and humanoid features. One, with the head of a stag, paws at the earth with its hooves. Another, resembling a grotesque beetle, clicks its mandibles. They're in their natural habitat here. Ace is fortunate; they didn't seem to sense him, too busy with whatever Inves do when they aren’t rampaging through cities.
His eyes scan the clearing, searching for any sign of the Crow Imagin. But there's nothing but Inves. Maybe it is observing them, he thinks.
High in the branches overhead, luminous objects dangled like grotesque Christmas ornaments. Helheim fruit. Each pulsed with a soft, alluring light. He knew these fruits served as the food of the creatures.
The scent wafts toward him, a sickly sweet aroma that almost masks the underlying decay. His stomach growls. That smells amazing! Ryutaros exclaims. Can we try one?
"Don't even think about it," Ace hisses, clenching his fists.
Yeah, Momotaros chimes in, unless you want to end up lookin' like one of those ugly mugs down there!
Ace shudders. It may have seemed tempting, but if a human eats a Helheim fruit, they mutate. He knows from the Kamen Rider Gaim series.
"I wish I had a Sengoku Driver…"
Helheim fruits have the potential to transform into Lockseeds if harvested, but that requires the use of a Sengoku Driver. The problem is that he lacks one.
As if in response, a surge of energy courses through Ace, settling around his waist. A metallic silver-gray band materializes, fitting snugly. At its center, a cutting blade shaped like a katana hilt guard gleams. This slicing trigger is connected to the device via mechanical pistons and gears.
A circular socket, the Lockseed Mount, appears, waiting. Bright LED colors light up, matching no fruit, because there isn't one. What the—? Ace’s thoughts spin. Where did this come from?
"Whoa, check that out!" Ryutaros shouts.
"What the hell? A Sengoku Driver?" Momotaros barks.
"This is unexpected," Kintaros rumbles.
"Did you wish for that, too, Ace?" Urataros asks, a hint of playful mockery in his voice.
Ace ignores them. How is this possible? He reaches out, carefully plucking a glowing fruit from a low-hanging branch. As his fingers brush against its crystalline surface, the fruit's dim light intensifies, bathing the clearing in a warm orange glow. The sphere twists and shifts, the outer rind hardening into segmented plates. When the light fades, Ace holds an Orange Lockseed (LS-07).
His eyes widen. The Lockseed emblem shines brightly, and he could feel power thrumming within it.
"Okay," Ace says, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is getting seriously weird."
