The anomaly in the Kamen Rider Universe

As Aaron arrived at the battlefield, he quickly surveyed the scene. To his surprise, things were going better than expected. The team was holding their own, and they weren't just surviving—they were fighting back with impressive force.

Sakura was in the thick of it, her movements fluid and precise as she took down one Gifterian after another. Daiji was a force to be reckoned with, his power allowing him to mow down waves of enemies with ease. Every swing of his weapon seemed to send countless foes crashing to the ground, their numbers dwindling rapidly under his assault.

Ikki was fighting fiercely as well, taking on a considerable group of Gifterian by himself. His determination was clear in every strike, every move he made. Despite the overwhelming odds, he seemed to be holding his own, the battlefield littered with the remains of those who had dared to challenge him.

Hana, Tamaki, and Hikaru were working in tandem, their coordination seamless as they took on the enemies with medium difficulty. They moved as a unit, covering each other's weaknesses and exploiting any openings they found. It was clear they had been training hard, and it was paying off.

Aaron watched for a moment, genuinely impressed by their progress. He had expected to find them struggling, overwhelmed by the sheer number of enemies, but they were handling it. Sure, there were still challenges—fighting this many Gifterian was never going to be easy—but they were far from being in over their heads.

He cracked a small, satisfied grin. "Not bad. Not bad at all," he muttered to himself. For a moment, he considered just hanging back and letting them continue. They were doing fine, after all. But then, his eyes caught sight of something that made his smirk widen—a particularly large group of flying Gifterian heading straight for the team.

Aaron leaned back, watching the team in action with a sense of mild satisfaction. They were doing well, better than he might have given them credit for. The Weekend Special Division was shooting down the flying Gifterian with precision, keeping the skies clear and the ground team focused. They were holding their own, fighting back, and not letting the overwhelming numbers break their resolve. It was a good sign—they were learning, adapting, becoming more capable.

With the immediate threat to the base under control, Aaron felt his mind start to drift. The fight was progressing without needing his intervention, so he allowed himself to consider other matters. His thoughts wandered to a particular alien girl, one with dark skin, striking blue eyes, and white hair.

He could barely remember her name, but the fragments of her story came back to him—something about her kingdom falling apart, some kind of disease wreaking havoc on her people. It was a tale he'd heard before, one of many, and yet it lingered in his mind, a faint echo of past encounters.

As he watched the battlefield unfold, Aaron wondered if this planet would share the same fate. Would he be hated even after solving all their problems, just as she had been? Or would things be different this time? Would they actually praise him for once, recognize his efforts instead of turning against him?

He sighed, the weight of those thoughts settling in. In the end, did it even matter? He wasn't in this for the praise or the gratitude. The job needed to be done, and he was the one to do it. Whether they thanked him or cursed his name afterward was their problem, not his.

Still, it was a curious thought—what if, just this once, they actually understood? What if they saw beyond the chaos and destruction to the intention behind it? He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, right," he muttered to himself. "Like that's ever going to happen."

As Aaron sat down, his attention half on the battlefield and half on his wandering thoughts, he noticed something unsettling. The Gifterian had stopped fighting. Every single one of them turned their attention towards him, their twisted faces and hungry eyes locked onto his position. Aaron raised a hand in a casual wave, trying to downplay the situation.

"Just ignore me real quick, I'm just passing by," he said with a lazy smile, as if he wasn't the most dangerous person on the field.

Time skip 30 minutes.

They, of course, did not ignore him. Instead, they came at him like a relentless tide, forcing Aaron to engage whether he liked it or not. By the time the dust settled, the battlefield was littered with the aftermath of his "intervention."

On the bright side, he had managed to turn about 100 people back to normal—100 lives saved from the brink of monstrosity, returned to their human selves. That was something, right?

On the downside, about a thousand of them didn't make it. Their bodies lay scattered across the field, victims of the chaos and Aaron's less-than-perfect track record with this particular cure.

"So, a 1/10 chance," Aaron muttered to himself, surveying the scene with a mix of frustration and resignation. "Not very good odds, but better than zero, right?"

pov change.

As Aaron lounged back at the Fenix base, trying to unwind after the chaotic battle, his peace was interrupted by a video message from Vail. The screen flickered to life, revealing Vail's twisted grin as he made his demand: Genta was to face him alone, or 50 innocent people would pay the price.

Aaron couldn't help but mentally scoff. Vail's acting like a toxic ex who just won't let go, he thought, rolling his eyes. He glanced at Genta, who was clearly struggling to keep his composure. The tension in Genta's face, the clenched jaw, and the furrowed brow all screamed of barely contained fury.

Sakura, after taking a deep breath and seemingly setting aside her pride, turned to Aaron. "What is your great plan this time around?" she asked, her tone laced with a mix of frustration and desperation.

Aaron met her gaze with a deadpan expression, clearly unamused. "It's all on him. If he lives or dies, it's all on him. There's no planning around it. Did you think I could get an out-of-shape man—no offense," Aaron added, glancing at Genta.

"None taken," Genta replied, though his voice was tight, still simmering with the anger Vail's message had stirred in him.

"And turn him into a demon-killing machine in a week?" Aaron continued. "You seem to forget the human body needs more time than that to gain strength."

"Did you take me for a hyperbolic time chamber or something"