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Donbrothers Heroes Of The Peach Guild CH 2
🕑 Added 2025-06-22 14:43:22 +0000 UTCA few weeks pass. The world around Taro is both familiar and alien. Skyscrapers pierce the sky, neon signs flash, and the streets pulse with life. Yet, there's a subtle undercurrent of tension, a sense of unease that prickles at the edge of his senses. Still, he finds work. He now works for another delivery company.
He's still delivering packages. Even with his amazing talents, he chooses to do this kind of work. He truly believes that delivering packages brings people happiness. It is honest work, where he can brighten someone's day.
During a lunch break, Taro glances at his chat group. He flicks his wrist, a holographic screen only he can see materializes before him. The chat group is empty except for him.
[The Peach Hero Guild!]
Members:
Don Momotaro
Points: 230
He sighs, a faint cloud of disappointment passing over his face. Helia told him that heroes from other worlds would join him, but so far, nothing. He taps at the screen, opening his profile. Daily sign-in bonus is still active, and he has been earning points for intervening in minor incidents. Stopping purse snatchers, helping old ladies cross the street, rescuing cats from trees — each act of kindness earns him a few points.
"Astra," Taro calls out mentally, addressing the AI of the chat group.
[Astra]: Yes, Taro-san?
"Any news on new members?" he asks.
[Astra]: Not yet, Taro-san. As I have explained before, you need to acquire invite tickets. You can obtain them by completing special missions, or through random events.
Taro nods, remembering Astra's explanation. The AI, who possessed a calm, reassuring demeanor reminiscent of Helia, had laid out the rules. To expand the chat group, he needs invite tickets and to redeem them, points are needed. And one invite ticket cost 1000 points!
Taro ends the lunch break. Another time, he thinks, dismissing the holographic screen. For now, he needs to focus on his work. He places the delivery car in drive and begins heading to the concert location.
The radio plays a Zwei Wing song, "Gyakkō no Flügel." Taro doesn't normally listen to pop music, but even he has to admit, the song is pretty good. It’s got an infectious energy and a hopeful message. He can see why they have such a large following.
He pulls up to the venue, a large arena buzzing with excitement. Fans clad in Zwei Wing merchandise mill around, their faces alight with anticipation. The air crackles with energy. Taro parks the car, grabs the package, and heads towards the backstage entrance.
"I have a delivery for Zwei Wing," Taro announces to the security guard.
The guard, a burly man with a bored expression, barely glances at him. "Just leave it on the side. Someone will pick it up."
Taro shakes his head. "I must deliver it in person. It is company policy."
"Look, pal," the guard says, his voice hardening. "I don't care about your company policy. No one gets backstage without authorization. Now, drop the package and leave."
Taro stands firm. "I cannot. It is my duty to ensure it reaches the intended recipient."
The guard sighs, stepping directly in front of Taro. "You're making this difficult."
Taro pauses. "It is the truth that I must do this. I am sorry."
Before the guard can react, Taro sidesteps him with surprising agility. The guard reaches out, but Taro is already past him, pushing through the door into the backstage area. "Hey! Stop!" the guard yells, but Taro ignores him, his focus solely on completing his delivery.
Backstage is a hive of activity, roadies scurrying around, adjusting equipment, and technicians barking orders into headsets. The air buzzes with controlled chaos, a stark contrast to the calm determination on Taro's face.
In a quieter corner, two figures stand cloaked in white, their identities concealed from prying eyes. One, a tall, elegant figure with midnight-blue hair peeking out from beneath the hood, shifts nervously. This is Tsubasa Kazanari. Her indigo eyes dart around, scanning the surroundings with an intensity that betrays her anxiety. The other, shorter with long, fluffy red hair, exudes a carefree aura. Kanade Amou. Her dark red eyes twinkle with amusement as she watches her partner.
"Tsubasa, relax," Kanade says, her voice light and teasing. "You're going to break a sweat before we even hit the stage. It is going to be okay!"
Tsubasa scowls, her voice tight. "This performance is crucial, Kanade. Everything must be perfect."
Kanade sighs dramatically. "There she goes again." She reaches out and flicks Tsubasa's forehead. "Ow," Tsubasa says. "Stop being so serious! We got this. We always do."
Before Tsubasa can retort, a booming voice cuts through the air. "Girls."
Both idols turn to see a towering figure approaching, his presence radiating authority and warmth. Genjuro Kazanari, Tsubasa's uncle and the commander of SONG. He wears a familiar red shirt with rolled-up sleeves, revealing his muscular arms.
"Commander," Tsubasa says, snapping to attention.
"Bossman Genjuro," Kanade says with a grin.
Genjuro smiles, unfazed by Kanade's casual address. "I just came to remind you both of the importance of today's performance."
"We know, we know," Kanade says, cutting him off. "Humanity's future hangs in the balance, yada yada yada. We got it covered, boss."
Genjuro's smile widens. "If that's the case... I trust you both. Humanity's future hangs on what happens during this concert."
Just then, Taro bursts onto the scene, sprinting towards them. Two security guards are hot on his heels, shouting. "Stop him!"
Tsubasa, Kanade, and Genjuro exchange confused glances. Before anyone can react, Taro is already in front of them, holding out the package.
"Zwei Wing-san!" Taro exclaims, slightly breathless. "I have a delivery for you!"
He thrusts the package forward, nearly colliding with Tsubasa. The guards stumble to a halt a few feet away, panting and glaring.
Taro ignores them, his gaze fixed on the idols. "Please, sign here." He produces a digital pad and stylus, his expression earnest.
Tsubasa and Kanade exchange bewildered looks. A delivery man just barged into their backstage area, evading security, to deliver them a package. And now he wants them to sign for it? Still, curious, Tsubasa takes the stylus and scribbles her signature on the pad, followed by Kanade.
"There," Tsubasa says, handing back the pad. "Satisfied?"
Taro beams. "Excellent!" He nods, retrieving the pad. "Now, you are linked."
Tsubasa raises an eyebrow. "Linked?"
"Yes," Taro says, his tone serious. "No matter how small the link is, it exists now. You, me, all of us... When we all come together, a miracle happens." He smiles, a touch of Don Momotaro's boisterous energy bleeding through.
Tsubasa stares at him, a flicker of amusement in her indigo eyes. Kanade giggles, finding the whole situation utterly ridiculous and charming.
"Well, aren't you a peculiar delivery man," Kanade says, her voice laced with mirth. "A miracle, huh? We'll see about that."
Genjuro studies Taro intently, his expression unreadable. He notes the young man's unwavering gaze, the subtle strength in his posture. There's something unusual about this delivery man, something that sets him apart. He decides to keep an eye on him.
"Come on, Tsubasa," Kanade says, nudging her partner. "Let's see what our mysterious friend delivered."
She takes the package and begins to unwrap it, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Inside, nestled among layers of protective wrapping, is a letter. Kanade gently unfolds it, her eyes scanning the page. Tsubasa leans in, peering over her shoulder.
"It's addressed to us," Kanade murmurs, her voice softening.
The letter is written in a childish scrawl, filled with hearts and smiley faces. It's a simple message, but the sincerity shines through. A young girl, a fan, wrote to express her admiration for Zwei Wing. She talks about how their music gives her courage, how their songs help her through tough times, and how she believes in them.
As Tsubasa reads the letter, she feels a knot in her stomach loosen. The weight of responsibility, the pressure to be perfect, seems to lessen. The girl's words are a reminder of why she sings in the first place—to bring hope to others.
" 'Thank you for being our heroes'," Kanade reads aloud, her voice thick with emotion. " 'We're always cheering you on!' "
Tsubasa’s eyes soften, a rare smile gracing her lips. "Those words... they are more precious than any treasure." She glances at Kanade, a newfound resolve in her eyes. The anxiety is gone, replaced by determination.
"Thank you," Tsubasa says, turning to Taro.
Kanade smiles, echoing her partner's gratitude. "Yeah, thanks for delivering this to us. It really means a lot."
Taro smiles back, his eyes twinkling. "I deliver more than just packages. I deliver happiness."
The guards, finally regaining their composure, step forward and grab Taro by the arms. "Alright, pal, show's over. You're coming with us."
They begin to escort him out, despite Taro's lack of resistance. He offers a polite nod to Zwei Wing and Genjuro as he's led away.
Tsubasa watches him go, her brow furrowed in thought. "Deliver happiness... huh."
She turns to Kanade, her voice firm. "Let's make this concert a success, Kanade. For that girl, and for everyone else who believes in us."
Kanade grins, her eyes blazing with passion. "You got it, Tsubasa! Let's give them a show they'll never forget!"
Genjuro, witnessing the two idols fired up and ready to go, can't help but smile. Those two, he thinks, a wave of pride washing over him.
…
Hibiki Tachibana sits in the stadium seat, a splash of bright color against the darkening backdrop. Her short, light brown hair bounces slightly as she shifts in anticipation. She’s dressed in a pink shirt and matching skirt, a peach shrug draped over her shoulders to ward off the evening chill.
She is an ordinary girl. An ordinary girl sitting among thousands of screaming fans. Miku had given her the tickets, a gift for Hibiki's birthday, an event they both had been looking forward to. However, Miku couldn't make it; her aunt had been in a car accident, nothing serious, but Miku had to be there. So, Hibiki found herself alone, clutching Miku's ticket in her hand, a mixture of excitement and disappointment churning within her.
This is her first time seeing Zwei Wing perform live. She knows all their songs by heart, has watched their music videos countless times, but experiencing them in person... that's something else entirely. The lights dim, a hush falls over the crowd, and a single spotlight illuminates the stage. Hibiki feels a thrill course through her veins.
[INCREASING TEMPO]
Then, they appear.
Tsubasa and Kanade descend from above, ethereal figures in white dresses. Kanade's dress has vibrant red accents, while Tsubasa's shimmers with cool blue. Each has one half of a massive wing attached to their back, completing the image of angels descending from the heavens.
[WHOOSH]
They land gracefully on the stage, and the stadium erupts.
[CHEERING]
The sound is deafening, a wave of pure adoration washing over Hibiki. She claps her hands together, a wide smile stretching across her face. This is it. This is really happening.
The music swells, the opening chords of "Gyakkou no Flugel" filling the air. Tsubasa and Kanade begin to sing, their voices intertwining in perfect harmony.
Hibiki closes her eyes for a moment, letting the music wash over her. It's even more powerful live, more moving than she ever imagined. She opens her eyes and watches Tsubasa and Kanade move across the stage, their energy infectious.
The crowd is on its feet, singing along, waving glow sticks in the air. Hibiki joins in, her voice blending with the thousands of others. She might be alone, but she doesn't feel lonely. She's part of something bigger, something special. The music, the lights, the energy of the crowd, it all comes together to create a moment of pure magic.
The idols continue to dance, each step perfectly synchronized, each note sung with unwavering passion. Their voices soar through the air, amplified by the speakers but still retaining their raw, emotional edge. The crowd is completely enthralled, a sea of faces turned towards the stage, lost in the spectacle.
The stadium roof begins to peel back, section by section, revealing the vibrant colors of the sunset sky. Orange, pink, and purple hues blend together, creating a breathtaking backdrop for the performance. The retractable structure continues its transformation, the individual panels folding away until the opening takes on the unmistakable shape of a massive wing, arching over the stadium like a protective guardian.
Deep beneath the stadium, in a sterile, brightly lit laboratory, a team of scientists monitor banks of screens, each displaying complex data streams and technical readouts. The focus of their attention is the Nehushtan Armor, a complete relic of immense power. A testament to humanity's ambition and ingenuity, the armor boasts the ability to regenerate from near-total destruction. Its regenerative properties, if properly harnessed, could revolutionize medicine and warfare. But this very power is its greatest danger.
Overseeing the operation is Ryōko Sakurai, her brown hair styled in a gravity-defying beehive, held in place by a butterfly clip. Red-framed glasses with yellow lenses perch on her nose, giving her an eccentric yet intelligent look. She wears a white lab coat over a pink dress, a bizarre combination of fashion and functionality, but she carries it with an air of confidence. Beside her stands Genjuro Kazanari, his towering frame and muscular build a stark contrast to the sterile environment. His rolled-up red shirt and pink tie, a surprisingly formal touch, do little to diminish his imposing presence.
"Phonic gain levels are optimal," one of the scientists reports, his voice barely audible above the hum of the equipment.
Ryōko smiles, a glint of triumph in her eyes. The concert's success isn't just measured in ticket sales and fan adoration. It's the perfect catalyst for their experiment. Phonic gain, the resonant energy generated by the singing voices of Tsubasa and Kanade, is surging through the stadium. It's being channeled through a complex network of resonators and directed towards the Nehushtan Armor.
This energy is the key. It is the core energy that fuels all Symphogear systems. As Zwei Wing performs, the relic absorbs the resonant vibrations, activating the armor and unleashing its full potential. The higher the emotional intensity, the stronger the surge. The stadium is filling with the power that will activate Nehushtan.
Suddenly, warning lights flash on the control panels, and alarms blare. [WHOOP] [WHOOP] [WHOOP]
"Energy levels are spiking!" another scientist shouts, his voice laced with panic. "We're reaching critical mass!"
Ryōko's smile falters. She glances at Genjuro, her eyes widening with alarm. "What's happening?"
"The system is overloading!" the first scientist yells. "The phonic gain is too much! It's going to EXPLODE!"
[BOOOOOOM]
The Nehushtan Armor ruptures. The force is incredible. The lab shudders, consoles sparking and exploding. Ryōko is thrown back against a wall, her glasses flying off her face. Genjuro , ever the protector, throws himself in front of the other scientists, shielding them from the brunt of the blast. Debris rains down, and the lights flicker, casting the room in an erratic strobe.
Above, the stadium reels from the aftershock. A visible shockwave rips through the center, tearing apart the stage and sending equipment flying. The giant wing structure buckles and groans. Screams echo through the air. The music abruptly stops, replaced by the cacophony of terror.
Tsubasa and Kanade stumble, their faces etched with confusion and alarm.
"What was that?" Kanade asks, her voice barely audible above the din.
Tsubasa scans the crowd, her eyes narrowed, trying to assess the situation. "I don't know, but something's very wrong."
Then, from the shadows, they emerge.
The Noise materialize out of thin air, amorphous blobs of darkness with glowing cores. They multiply instantly, their numbers swelling like a tide. The swarm targets the crowd, diving into the sea of people.
[SCREAMS]
Panic consumes the stadium. People scramble for the exits, tripping over each other in their haste. The Noise make contact, and with a touch, their victims turn to dust. The figures dissolve, leaving behind only piles of carbon.
Chaos reigns.
Kanade, however, stands firm. "Let's fly, Tsubasa! The only ones who can wield the sword and spear are us!"
"But the Commander hasn't given us orders—Kanade!" Tsubasa protests, her voice strained with a mix of concern and frustration.
But Kanade already ran off and began to sing. "Croitzal ronzell Gungnir zizzl~"
The Relic, Gungnir, around Kanade's neck shines.
[TRANSFORMATION SEQUENCE]
White and black armor plates materialize, encasing Kanade in a protective shell. Orange energy crackles around her, highlighting the sharp angles and aggressive design of her gear. Horn-like protrusions emerge from her headpiece, framing her face with a fierce determination. The transformation ends, and Kanade stands ready, Gungnir manifested in her hand. The spear glows with the same orange light that surrounds her armor.
Kanade engage the Noise, her spear a blur of motion. Each strike obliterates the creatures, but their numbers seem endless. People continue to die around her.
"Damn it, Kanade," she mutters.
Tsubasa closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and steels herself. The Kazanari family legacy weighs heavily on her shoulders. She is a blade, forged to protect. It is her duty.
"Imyuteus Ame-no-Habakiri tron!" she chants.
[TRANSFORMATION SEQUENCE]
A cool blue light erupts around Tsubasa. Silver and white armor manifests, sleek and sharp, highlighting her graceful yet deadly form. Blade-like extensions emerge from the sides of her head, resembling elegant wings. The katana, Ame-no-Habakiri, appears in her grasp, its edge shimmering.
Together, the idols become warriors.
Kanade leaps into the fray, spinning like a top, her spear carving through the darkness. Noise explode into nothingness with each strike, but two replace every one she destroys.
"Tsubasa, behind you!" Kanade yells, deflecting a Noise with a burst of energy.
Tsubasa pivots, her katana flashing. She cuts down three Noise in rapid succession, her movements precise and economical. But the monsters keep coming, a relentless swarm that threatens to overwhelm them.
The noise multiply at a rapid rate. Each is amorphous and possesses no real weakness.
Despite the onslaught, their teamwork is impeccable. They move as one, anticipating each other's attacks, defending each other's blind spots. Their synchronization is a beautiful dance of death, a symphony of destruction.
Hibiki, from her seat, can barely believe what she’s seeing. Two Wing, her idols, are fighting monsters! They’re not just singers; they’re heroes! She watches in wide-eyed awe as they move with incredible speed and power, their determination etched on their faces.
This is amazing... She thinks. The sight is mesmerizing, a dance of light and darkness. Fear mixes with a strange sense of wonder. She wants to help, to do something, but she's frozen in place. Her body is static, her mind racing.
But, as many Noise as the pair destroy, there are still so many of them. The stadium is filled with the dark monsters, and the amount continues to increase. Tsubasa is starting to sweat.
“We can’t keep this up forever!” Tsubasa says, panting. “There’s too many of them!”
Kanade grits her teeth. “We have to! We can’t let them hurt anyone else!”
The platform beneath Hibiki gives way.
[CRUMBLE]
She falls, her body crashing hard against the wreckage below. A sharp pain shoots up her leg. She cries out. It's twisted at an unnatural angle.
"Hibiki!" Kanade's voice slices through the noise, laced with concern.
The Noise, sensing weakness, turn their attention to Hibiki. Several swarm towards her, their glowing cores pulsing with malice.
"Run!" Kanade shouts, intercepting the monsters. She swings Gungnir, obliterating the Noise, clearing a path. "Get to safety!"
Hibiki, adrenaline coursing through her veins, pushes herself to her feet. Pain flares with every step. She drags her injured leg, stumbling away from the swarm, following Kanade's instructions.
The bigger Noise focus on Kanade, abandoning their pursuit of Hibiki. They coalesce, forming larger, more menacing shapes. Green acid projectiles streak through the air, aimed at the warrior.
[FWOOSH]
Kanade spins her spear, deflecting the onslaught. The acid splatters against her armor, melting away pieces of the white and black plating.
[SIZZLE]
One of the broken fragments flies, a deadly shard of metal. It hurtles through the air, striking Hibiki squarely in the chest.
[THUD]
Hibiki cries out, collapsing to the ground.
Kanade sees this and her eyes widen in horror.
She rushes towards the fallen girl, ignoring the Noise swarming around her. She kneels beside Hibiki, cradling her head in her arms.
"Hey! Don't die!" Kanade's voice trembles. "Open your eyes!"
Hibiki is dazed, her vision blurred. Sounds are muffled. She can barely register Kanade's face above her, but she can hear the idol's voice.
"...Don't..." Hibiki mumbles, blood trickling from her lips.
"Don't give up living!" Kanade pleads. "Don't give up."
Hibiki is too weak to respond. Her eyes flutter, and then close.
Kanade sees the young girl nearly gone. She has to make a decision—Hibiki isn’t going to make it. A last resort echoes in her mind, the Zesshō, the Swan Song. With it, she can annihilate every Noise in the vicinity, buying Hibiki precious time. But the cost… the cost is her very life.
Is there even a choice?
Her resolve hardens.
She begins to sing, the opening notes of the Zesshō a haunting melody that cuts through the chaos. It rises. Phonic energy gathers around her, an incandescent aura, brilliant and terrible.
Tsubasa recognizes the somber notes and understands. Kanade will sacrifice herself.
"Kanade, NO!" Tsubasa cries out, her voice laced with anguish. She sprints towards her partner, desperate to stop her. "Don't do it! There has to be another way!"
But Kanade doesn't hear her. Or, if she does, she chooses to ignore it. Her eyes are fixed on Hibiki, a silent promise etched on her face. The Zesshō builds in intensity, the air crackling with power.
Just as Kanade is about to unleash the full force of her relic, a different sound pierces the stadium: a boisterous, upbeat melody that seems ripped from a completely different world.
[JAPANESE FESTIVAL MUSIC]
It rings, echoing through the shattered stadium, overriding the somber notes of the Zesshō. The Noise, momentarily stunned, freeze in place. Hibiki's mind, clouded with pain and fading consciousness, flickers.
Kanade and Tsubasa both halt their actions, confused.
The source of the music becomes clear.
From the stadium entrance, a spectacle unfolds. Beautiful women dressed in white yukatas with golden designs perform a dance. They throw petals into the air.
Half-naked men, clad only in fundoshi, carry a giant, ornate red palanquin, its gilded surfaces gleaming under the setting sun.
And atop the palanquin, astride a sleek, red and blue motorcycle, sits Don Momotaro.
"AHAHAHAHA! Hey, hey, hey!" Don Momotaro bellows, his voice booming across the arena. "It's a festival! It's a festival, everyone!"
He flourishes a fan emblazoned with a peach symbol, a playful grin on his face.
Tsubasa and Kanade stare, utterly dumbfounded. Even the Noise, mindless killing machines that they are, pause their assault, their glowing cores dimming slightly in apparent confusion.
Don Momotaro, oblivious to the stunned silence, continues his pronouncements, each phrase delivered with theatrical flair:
"A chance meeting may be because of a link from a previous life."
"Even the pebble you stumble upon links to something."
"Dancing together links(en) us together."
"This world is a paradise (rakuen!)!"
"I'll blow all your worries away!"
He pauses, then unleashes a hearty laugh. "Now laugh! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Don Momotaro fans himself vigorously, the peach symbol glinting in the fading light. The bizarre scene unfolds, a jarring juxtaposition of otherworldly horror and pure, unadulterated festivity. The world is a stage, and all the people merely players.
The arrival of Don Momotaro and his festival is so surreal that it cuts through the tension like a hot knife through butter. The Noise stand still, the music is so loud, they don't even know what to do. Kanade's Zesshō has been interrupted.
Tsubasa and Kanade exchange puzzled glances. Who is this man? What is he doing here, with his garish display and nonsensical pronouncements? Doesn't he grasp the gravity of the situation, the danger they face?
"Is he an ally?" Kanade wonders aloud, lowering her spear slightly.
Tsubasa shakes her head. "I've never seen him before. And that vehicle...is unlike anything I know."
Don Momotaro’s smile fades. The fan, a blur of red and gold, flies from his grip, spinning end over end before lodging itself into the ground with a soft thud.
He revs the engine of the Superbike Enya Rideon, the sound echoing through the wreckage.
[VRRRRROOOOOOM]
With a sudden burst of speed, he launches the motorcycle off the palanquin, soaring through the air. The bike lands with a jolt, scattering debris and sending sparks flying. Don Momotaro doesn't slow down. He weaves expertly through the stationary Noise, the Rideon's tires crushing them under its wheels.
"Out of the way!" He yells, the wind whipping through his hair. "The festival is about to get started!"
His actions, reckless as they are, are effective. He creates a small zone of space around Kanade, Tsubasa, and the injured Hibiki. He jumps off the Rideon, landing gracefully on his feet. The bike skids to a halt behind him.
He brandishes his Zanglassword. The blade catches the light, a sleek and dangerous weapon. He's no longer the jovial performer from a moment ago, his expression focused, intent.
He dashes towards the Noise, his movements a blur of speed and precision. The Zanglassword flashes, slicing through the creatures with ease. They shatter like glass, dissolving into puffs of dark smoke.
From Don Momotaro's point of view, these things are weak. They lack the cunning and adaptability of the Anoni from his world.
[SWISH]
"Hah!" He laughs, twirling the Zanglassword. "Is that all you've got? This is barely a warm-up!"
The Noise counterattack. They lunge at him, their glowing cores burning with malice. He sidesteps them with ease, his reflexes honed from countless battles. The Zanglassword flashes again, and more Noise fall.
[CLANG]
"AHAHAHAHA!" His laughter echoes through the stadium, a sound that seems to mock the very darkness that surrounds them. "Come on, show me what you've got! Don't be shy!"
The Noise, undeterred by the fallen, continue their advance, closing in on all sides. Momotaro, however, remains unfazed, a confident smirk playing on his lips.
"Surrounding me? Then, how about this!" he exclaims, his voice ringing with playful defiance.
With a swift motion, Momotaro produces an Avataro Gear, its image emblazoned with the likeness of a red sentai with a dinosaur theme. He inserts it into the side of the Donblaster, the weapon clicking satisfyingly as it locks into place. Then, with a flourish, he scans the Zanglassword on top of the Donblaster, initiating a sequence of sounds and lights.
[Party Time! Ryusoulger!]
[Iza Mairu!]
[Ava-avataro Zan! Ava-avataro Zan!] (loop)
Energy crackles around the Zanglassword, transforming it into a weapon of immense power. The blade glows, pulsating with prehistoric power.
"Kishiryuu Peach! Ryusou Slash!" Momotaro declares, raising the Zanglassword high above his head. Energy coalesces around the blade, taking the form of a massive dinosaur head, its teeth bared in a fearsome roar. With a mighty swing, he unleashes the attack, the dinosaur head hurtling towards the Noise.
[Ken Bon!]
The energy head engulfs the monsters, consuming them in a burst of light. The Noise disappear, their forms dissolving into nothingness, leaving behind only empty space. The stadium, once filled with the oppressive darkness of their presence, is now clear, the immediate threat eliminated.
Don Momotaro surveys the scene, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. The danger has been eliminated. It is the way of the festival.
"Big Victory! AHAHAHAHAHA!" he shouts, his laughter echoing. The moment has passed. The festival has gone on.
Seeing him dispatch the Noise with such ease leaves Kanade and Tsubasa in utter disbelief. All this time, they thought they were the only ones capable of fighting these creatures. Now, this man in red arrives, effortlessly eradicating the Noise as if they were mere playthings.
"Who…who is that?" Tsubasa stammers, staring at Don Momotaro with a mixture of awe and bewilderment.
Kanade, always the first to act, approaches Don Momotaro, her Gungnir held loosely at her side.
"Hey, you! Who are you?" she asks, her voice laced with curiosity. "How can you fight the Noise?"
Don Momotaro turns towards her, his grin widening. "Me? Then let me tell you, companion!"
Kanade blinks, tilting her head slightly. "Companion?"
Don Momotaro strikes a pose. He slams his left foot in front of him and crouches slightly. His left hand rests on his thigh, while his right arm stretches away.
“Listen up! Born from a peach," he declares in an echoing voice, leaving the duo with a confused look. "Don Momotaro!"
The two idols, the saviors of this place who had been fighting these things all this time, were at a loss for words. Was this man in red the hero, or something else?
Now that everything is safe, he bows dramatically, his red armor gleaming. "Well, then, everyone, the pleasure has been all mine. But alas, the festival must move on! Farewell, companions! We shall meet again."
Kanade's brow furrows. "Meet again? What do you mean by—"
Before she finishes her query, Momotaro vanishes in a quick burst of light, leaving nothing behind but the echo of his laughter.
[FLASH]
Tsubasa stares at the spot where the strange warrior stood, her katana still at the ready. "What… was that?" she murmurs, glancing over to Kanade for answers.
Kanade shakes her head, equally bewildered. "I don't know. But he said we'd meet again..."
Their attention is drawn to a soft groan. Both turn towards the source: Hibiki, lying injured amidst the rubble.
"Don Momotaro…" she mumbles, her eyes fluttering shut.
Darkness takes her.
The two idols rush to Hibiki's side. The questions surrounding the festival-loving warrior vanish from their minds, replaced by a more urgent concern. They must get her help. Her injuries are severe, and time is of the essence.
"We need to get her to a hospital," Tsubasa says, her voice filled with worry.
Kanade nods in agreement. Together, they carefully lift the unconscious girl, their thoughts filled with questions about the mysterious warrior, and the destiny to come. The echoes of his laughter and the flash of his disappearing act remained fresh in their minds.
