The interior of the Armada flagship was silent except for the low hum of damaged systems. Flickering lights cast long, uneven shadows across the repair chamber where Kamen Rider Fifteen stood once more—his armor restored, yet the memory of defeat still etched deep into his mind.
He turned slowly toward the towering figure behind him.
Lord Zedd.
The warlord's staff rested against the floor as if the battle on the moon had been nothing more than an inconvenience. His presence alone distorted the air, warping it with dark authority.
Fifteen broke the silence.
"Answer me," he said coldly. "You are not of this universe. Not of this Armada. How did you come to stand on this ship?"
Zedd's laughter was low and metallic.
"So you finally ask the right question."
He stepped forward, crimson energy pulsing faintly along his armor.
"I come from a different timeline—one where the Rangers failed, where resistance was crushed, and where the Armada's victory was inevitable. That future fractured… and I stepped through the裂."
Fifteen narrowed his eyes.
"You came to help the Armada."
"And you," Zedd added smoothly. "Your ambitions align with mine. You seek dominion. I seek conquest. Cooperation was… logical."
Fifteen said nothing, but his fists clenched.
Zedd continued, almost amused.
"The moon battle changed everything. Yuriko's evolution proves it. Heroes are no longer bound by their limits."
His helmet turned slightly.
"Which is why you must survive."
Fifteen looked away, the words survive cutting deeper than any blade.
Far beyond the Armada's reach, in the dead universe of collapsing stone and frozen skies, Shadow Moon remained seated within the abandoned building.
He had not moved since Lord Zedd's intervention.
Not out of exhaustion.
Out of certainty.
Shadow Moon stared at the broken horizon, green eyes glowing faintly.
"Lies," he said quietly.
He knew the truth.
Kamen Rider Fifteen had never stood before Ohma Zi-O.
Not once.
There had been no meeting. No audience. No divine recognition.
Only a voice.
A voice that whispered promises of destiny, power, and kingship.
Shadow Moon's fingers tightened against the stone beneath him.
"You were never chosen," he murmured.
He knew the source of that voice.
Ryoma Sengoku.
The architect of gods and monsters. The man who twisted evolution into control. The villain who believed power itself could be engineered, manipulated, and weaponized.
Ryoma did not give orders.
He planted ideas.
Shadow Moon had seen it before—ambition shaped into obedience, belief turned into chains.
"You obey a ghost wearing another man's crown," Shadow Moon said coldly.
And Ohma Zi-O?
A symbol. A legend. A name powerful enough to bend wills without ever appearing.
Shadow Moon rose slowly to his feet.
He did not remain in this ruined universe by choice.
He was waiting.
Waiting for someone whose presence would shake the void itself.
Someone whose arrival would confirm everything.
But not yet.
Not now.
The universe was still moving toward that moment.
Back on Earth, within Gosei's Chamber, the atmosphere was tense.
Holographic projections of the moon battle hovered in the air—collapsed terrain, fading energy signatures, the final retreat of Kamen Rider Fifteen.
Yuriko stood near the center, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
Troy broke the silence first.
"So… we won," he said. "But it doesn't feel like it."
Gia nodded. "Too many things don't add up. Fifteen retreated. The Armada pulled back. That never happens unless they're planning something worse."
Emma folded her arms, her new power still faintly resonating beneath her armor.
"And Ohma Zi-O keeps appearing," she added. "Helping us—but never speaking.
Never staying."
Noah glanced at Yuriko.
"You fought Fifteen directly. What did you feel?"
Yuriko hesitated.
"Conviction," she said slowly. "But not truth."
Everyone turned toward her.
"He believes he's chosen," Yuriko continued. "But it felt… borrowed. Like his power wasn't truly his."
Gosei's projection flickered.
"Your instincts align with my analysis," Gosei said. "The energy surrounding Kamen Rider Fifteen is inconsistent. It does not originate from Ohma Zi-O directly."
Jake frowned. "So someone's playing all of us."
"Someone always is," Orion said quietly.
Troy clenched his jaw. "Then the moon battle wasn't the end. It was the beginning."
Yuriko looked down at the Rider keychains at her belt. They were silent now—but not dormant.
"Whatever's coming," she said, "it's bigger than the Armada."
The chamber fell silent.
Somewhere beyond their awareness, pieces were already moving.
And the war—far from finished—was only just revealing its true mastermind.