Honkai: Star Rail — Kamen Rider!

Zulo was in shock.

No—that didn't even begin to cover it. His mind reeled in disbelief.

A white crescent blade had arced through the air toward him. That part wasn't strange on its own.

But once you considered the battlefield conditions, this should have been impossible.

Zulo was the awakened consciousness of this planet—his power not yet fully restored, but still potent. Within this territory, he could manipulate all things: earth, gravity, repulsion, water…

To counter Sora's throwing blade, he had deliberately converted the space around himself into a repulsion vacuum.

There was no air. No dust. No oxygen.

A pure zone of nullification. An airtight sphere of total rejection.

Even the ever-present haze of debris had been expelled, forming a faint gray shell outside the vacuum.

And yet—that blade still pierced through.

Unimpeded. Undeterred.

As if it followed a different set of physical laws entirely.

As if another kind of force surrounded that flying crescent.

"Impossible! Impossible!"

Zulo's voice cracked. His confidence—no, his understanding of reality—was under siege.

His repulsion should have nullified everything. How could this be happening?

And yet, disbelief or not, his pride as a former Lord Ravager refused to let him stand motionless before a direct hit.

For the first time since his appearance, Zulo moved.

With a single step to the side, he dodged the blade.

CLANG.

The crescent struck the earth behind him, embedding in the dirt for a second before dissolving into ash.

Zulo stared silently at the fading fragment.

There was no question. That blade had carried the laws of another world. A planetary force foreign to this one—strong enough to ignore his repulsion.

But how?

He turned his gaze back to Sora's moving figure, still flickering through the ruins.

He could see clearly—it was just a human. A human in bizarre armor. Not an Aeon-blessed Emanator. Not a divine messenger.

Just a man.

How does he wield planetary power?!

Zulo had no answer. But one thing was clear:

He was intrigued.

"Fascinating."

Driven by wild instinct. Reflexes pushed to the limit. Able to detect and evade attacks that should've been untraceable. And now, even capable of delivering counterstrikes that bypassed planetary defenses.

He had lived for millennia across the galaxy—but never encountered anything quite like this.

Still…

"Such a shame."

Zulo's tone darkened.

Instinct enhanced reflex, yes—but it also crippled higher reasoning. That made the attack pattern overly predictable.

If instinct and intellect could coexist—then even Zulo, in his current state, might've had to retreat for now.

But as things stood? He merely needed to be cautious.

Until—

A new ripple of power flowed through the air.

Zulo's senses twitched. He turned slightly and saw it—those radiant, emerald-green eyes glowing in the distance.

"Harmony…?"

He recognized the resonance immediately.

The Path of Harmony.

But—meaningless. It offered no direct advantage here. No threat.

He weighed the outcome quickly. Harmony wouldn't affect him. It could only touch Sora. But even that was a risk. If it disrupted Sora's rhythm for even a second—that would be all the opening Zulo needed to finish it.

Good intentions often backfired in war.

Zulo had capitalized on such moments countless times, destroying entire battalions when their own support tripped them up.

Let's see if this one is any different.

He shifted his attention back to Sora, waiting for his chance to strike.

The Fang Memory—a Gaia Memory of raw feral instinct.

Despite the baby dinosaur's polite and relatively reasonable behavior outside… once the transformation activated, the berserk nature it represented surged forth like a flood.

Ever since Earth's birth, the drive to rage and survive had been etched into all life.

Prehistoric predators battling for dominance…

Early humans warring for territory and desire…

Rage had never left the evolutionary path.

And now, Sora was drowning in that primal storm.

His consciousness slipped beneath a sea of violence. His ears filled with roars and ancient echoes.

Beasts—phantoms—appeared in the void: saber-toothed tigers with glistening fangs, winged pterosaurs poised to strike, early humans brandishing stone spears.

Their instincts, their battle wisdom—how to use claws, teeth, limbs—poured directly into his brain.

Agony.

The knowledge burned like fire. His skull felt like it would split open. He couldn't wake.

But then—something reached him. A gentle, steady force from outside.

It soothed the chaos. Slowed the flood. Let him breathe.

Little by little, he opened his eyes.

Inside his consciousness space, he rose.

Flames burned everywhere—like an army of huskies had torn the planetary library apart.

"…So this is what it's come to, huh?"

He stood slowly, feeling the fatigue in every fiber.

But he couldn't rest. He had to find the source—the thing wreaking havoc inside his mind.

He followed the low growl echoing between flames.

And eventually, he saw it.

"ROOOAAR!!"

A thunderous roar split the air as a silver-white Eastern dragon coiled through the skies, breathing flame.

Its eyes glowed blood-red. Pure, unfiltered instinct incarnate.

This was no external monster.

This was Sora's own savage nature, awakened by the Fang Memory.

But left unchecked, it could destroy everything—including him.

And yet—he could understand it.

"KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL!!"

Anger? Kill.

Fear? Kill.

Joy? Kill.

Survival? Definitely kill.

Only a fragile thread of reason still anchored Sora's consciousness.

If that broke—he would cease to be Sora.

He'd become a beast of destruction.

"…Life isn't only about violence."

He walked forward, step by heavy step.

He wouldn't be ruled by this power—he would master it.

Just like early humans had tamed beasts and used their strength to build civilization.

The dragon faltered, retreating slightly.

"Why hold back?" it growled, wings unfurling. "That guy outside—he's nothing! Let's kill him, end this world, and be free!"

"Then we can kill and kill and kill—never suppress ourselves again!"

The dragon twirled in the sky, as if it already saw its future written in fire and blood.

But Sora simply watched it.

Watched his own savage nature. And whispered:

"What then? Will you kill the people who've been good to you too?"

"Uh…"

"Robin. Anna. Ouja. What about them?"

"Uh… we let them live? We can kill someone else!"

"And the kids? They made me flower crowns. Not pretty ones, sure, but they're waiting for me to come back."

The dragon curled tighter and tighter until it was nearly a ball, head tucked away.

Its crimson eyes faded, revealing something softer beneath.

"You know killing doesn't solve everything," Sora said quietly.

The dragon was him. A part of his body and soul, awakened by a Gaia Memory's call. They shared the same memories. The same heart.

This wasn't an external monster. It was Sora's own violence, laid bare.

Which meant… he knew how to tame it.

"You done yet? Give me back my body."

"…Tch. Lame."

The dragon clicked its tongue—then hurled itself into his chest.

As it merged with him, the fire around them faded.

The consciousness space returned to pure white.

Soft light shimmered across the blank expanse, marking the source of the power that had helped bring him back.

"…Thanks."

Now then—

My turn.

Outside, Sora's body, mid-dash, paused.

Zulo saw his chance.

He struck.

BOOM!

Crushing force cratered the ground where Sora had just been.

Judging from the size—at least ten times gravity.

But Sora had already leapt into the air.

From above, he began rapidly activating the Fang Memory, launching crescent blades with every motion.

All aimed straight at Zulo.

"…This is—"

Zulo froze.

This shouldn't be possible.

He looked up—

Sora's body was gone.

"Where are you looking?"

A voice behind him.

Sora caught the flying blades midair.

"[Triple Crane Wings]!"