Sorry everyone! I forgot to set the scheduled post timer, so… I ended up sleeping straight through until noon before realizing I hadn't uploaded the new chapter 😅 Please forgive me!
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The Arctic – Finis Chaldea: Rayshift Chamber
The remnants of a violent explosion still lingered in the air. Ash and smoke drifted through the dim chamber as blue mana particles intertwined, swirling into a radiant vortex of light.
From within that glow, the familiar silhouettes of Ritsuka and her companions gradually took form.
As the Rayshift sequence completed, the pull of gravity and the biting cold of Chaldea returned all at once.
They opened their eyes—only to find themselves surrounded by ruins.
Walls had collapsed, metal beams were twisted, and the charred remains of once-sterile halls still smoldered faintly.
Silence followed.
Only the eerie whistle of wind passing through warped steel could be heard.
Ritsuka exhaled deeply, her shoulders sagging. Mash leaned on her shield, setting it gently against the cracked floor, her violet eyes reflecting both relief and exhaustion.
Amidst the stillness, Kagami was the first to move.
He stretched, the sharp crack of joints echoing through the quiet room. The light-blue gleam from his armor shimmered faintly against the fading mana haze. With his hands on his hips, he let out a long sigh, the tone lazy yet oddly calm—like a worker clocking out after a long, brutal shift.
"Well… that's that, I guess. Ah, right, Bossu. Hope there's still a way to bring her back."
His voice trailed off at the end, the usual playfulness softening into something almost contemplative.
Ritsuka didn't respond right away. Under the flickering red of the emergency lights, she stood frozen—her hands gripping the Holy Grail, her eyes distant, still struggling to piece together what had just happened.
Mash noticed, tilting her head slightly, voice gentle as a breeze.
"Senpai, are you… alright?"
Ritsuka blinked, snapping out of her daze, and managed a small smile.
"Ah! I'm fine, Mash. Thanks… Speaking of which—"
She turned toward Kagami, brows knitting, her tone curious yet cautious.
"Kagami, that person in the black-and-gray armor… you knew him, didn't you?"
The air grew heavier.
Kagami's expression darkened. He lowered his head slightly, the reflected light from his armor masking his face in shadow. Only the faint sound of his breath broke the silence before he finally replied:
"No… I don't know him. But I do know that armor."
Mash tilted her head, confused. Ritsuka frowned deeper "You know… the armor?"
Kagami let out a short, weary laugh "Aiz… yeah. I recognize it from someone I once called a senpai — Kamen Rider Decade. But his armor… wasn't black and gray like that bastard's, Tsukasa-senpai's was magenta."
Ritsuka fell silent for a moment, her gaze thoughtful, as if she wanted to press further. But Kagami waved a hand dismissively, his usual lazy drawl cutting through the tension.
"Alright, alright! That's enough for today — shift's over, yeah? Time to rest, sleep, chill, whatever. Done and done."
As he spoke, Kagami unclipped the Lost Driver from his waist and pulled the Eternal Memory free from its slot.
The Rider's signature blue light slowly faded, revealing his untransformed form — a young man with messy, pale blond hair.
He stretched with a yawn, one hand in his pocket while the other casually tossed the Memory containing Olga Marie's soul data.
The silver-blue glint from the device shimmered faintly in the cold air of the ruined chamber.
He yawned again, long and unbothered, wearing the face of a man who had finally clocked out after a brutal double shift.
"Ahh~ finally done! Shift's over for real this time. Gonna crash on my bed and sleep like the dead, yeah."
Shrugging, he grinned lazily and strolled toward the bent steel door, blue mana dust still glowing faintly at his feet.
But just as his hand reached for the handle — a firm grip landed on his shoulder.
Kagami stopped mid-step. He turned, ready to snap, only to be met by a familiar strawberry-blond head and the calm, gentle face behind a pair of round glasses.
"Kagami, where exactly do you think you're going?"
Romani Archaman smiled softly, voice calm as ever — though there was a trace of seriousness in his eyes.
Kagami frowned, smirking a little.
"Ah? Shift's over, obviously. I'm heading back to my dorm to crash for a bit, what else?"
"Kagami," Romani kept his smile, but his tone shifted — firmer now.
"Not yet. You, Ritsuka, and Mash need to come with me to the medical bay for a checkup."
Kagami groaned. "What now? And what about this thing?"
He lifted the Memory containing Olga Marie, irritation creeping into his voice.
Romani merely shrugged, lightly waving the thick stack of documents in his hand.
"That too — we'll handle it. But before that, standard protocol. To ensure the Masters' physical and mental stability after a Rayshift, we need a full post-mission evaluation.
So, please — you, Ritsuka, and Mashu, report to the medical bay."
Ritsuka, standing beside them with the Holy Grail still glowing faintly in her hands, scratched her head.
"So… what about the Grail?"
Before anyone could answer, a calm yet confident female voice came from the doorway.
"Leave that to me~."
The white light from the corridor spilled in, revealing a tall, slender woman stepping forward.
She had long chestnut-brown hair, cut in a modern style that flowed freely down her back.
Her bright blue eyes reflected the Rayshift room's glow — intelligent, warm, and brimming with quiet confidence.
She wore a sleek, modernized sailor uniform in shades of red and brown.
On her left hand was a large metal gauntlet, and in that hand she held a massive mechanical staff — several faintly glowing magical rings orbiting near its head.
Romani's face brightened the moment he saw her; he smiled in relief and gestured toward the newcomer.
"This is Chaldea's technical advisor — Leonardo Da Vinci."
Kagami froze. His mouth twitched as his gaze swept from her head to her feet — then lingered, very obviously, on her curving silhouette.
A second later, he exploded.
"WHAT THE—?! You're Da Vinci?! The Da Vinci?! The Italian polymath genius and painter?! You're telling me Da Vinci's a woman?!"
His shout echoed through the entire chamber.
Ritsuka quickly raised a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh, while Mash fumbled with her glasses, her face twitching as she struggled not to giggle.
Da Vinci, meanwhile, simply smiled — a confident, teasing smile — and gave Kagami a knowing glance that seemed to say: "Naturally. I'm far more perfect than the original ever was."
Da Vinci twirled her staff lightly in one hand, its head radiating a faint blue glow that danced across her face.
Her smile was graceful — calm and confident — her voice soft as spring breeze, yet edged with the keen sharpness of a mind that had witnessed the rise and fall of eras.
"Well~ you can save your surprise for later. As for the Holy Grail, leave it to me."
She raised her gloved hand slightly, and wisps of azure light swirled lazily around the tip of her staff as she continued:
"Right now, Chaldea's suffering from a severe energy shortage. We can repurpose the Grail as a temporary power core for the central systems."
A confident smile curved her lips — the kind only a person utterly certain of her own genius could wear.
Ritsuka hesitated for a heartbeat, then quickly bowed her head and held the Grail forward with both hands, as though offering a sacred relic.
"Ah… then, I entrust it to you, Miss Da Vinci."
The Grail shimmered as it touched Da Vinci's hands, its golden light spilling across her chestnut hair — making her seem, for a fleeting moment, like a goddess of wisdom descending to earth.
At that moment, Romani finally spoke, his calm tone carrying that familiar, professional gentleness. He tapped the thick folder in his hands against his palm and said:
"Well then, everyone — please follow me."
He turned on his heel, the hem of his white lab coat swaying slightly in the breeze from the overhead vents.
Hearing that, Ritsuka and Mash exchanged a quick glance before nodding to each other. Ritsuka gave Mash's hand a reassuring squeeze, then both followed after Romani down the dim corridor.
As for Kagami — he lingered behind, one hand scratching his head, shoulders slumping as he let out a long, tired sigh.
"Man… what a pain. I swear, even after clocking out I still get dragged into checkups."
Grumbling under his breath, he shoved both hands into his jacket pockets, idly kicking aside a few lingering motes of blue light on the floor.
Finally, he trudged after the others — his shadow stretching long across the cold, cracked tiles, flickering faintly under the dying blue lights of the Rayshift room.
---
Somewhere in an unstable realm.
The very fabric of space here seemed like a wound forgotten by time — the sky above was pitch black, as though ink itself had frozen in place.
Light did not come from any sun, but from countless fragments of drifting starlight, glowing with a cold, metallic white that faintly illuminated the swirling gray mist of the void.
Suspended in that emptiness stood a white castle — silent and solemn, as if hung adrift between existence and nothingness.
Each of its marble stones gave off a dim, pale glow, forming a mirage that shimmered faintly, like the afterglow of a dead star.
Inside its grand hall sat a lone figure with long white hair, resting upon a throne carved of gold and bone.
Pale blue light traced the strands of his silken hair as he leaned his cheek upon one hand, the other resting lazily across his knee — eyes half-closed, as though listening to the dying heartbeat of a fading world.
The silence lasted only a few seconds. Then—
Shhhhk!
A gray distortion tore through the center of the hall, rippling like a broken television signal. Shockwaves rolled outward, cracking the marble floor beneath.
From within the flickering haze stepped out a man clad in black–gray armor, each step he took leaving behind a poisonous trail of faint blue light.
He dragged Lev by the collar and flung him down hard onto the stone floor. The crash echoed thunderously through the hall.
Then the armored man looked up — the eyes behind his helmet burned with a fierce, electric blue as his voice rolled out, low and rough, laced with mockery and disdain.
"Hmph… still as smug and self-satisfied as ever, aren't you… Goetia?"
On the throne, the white-haired man slowly opened his eyes. Twin golden irises ignited in the dark — like the last surviving stars in a dying cosmos.
"I've told you many times…" he replied, calm but heavy enough to etch each word into the air itself. "Call me Solomon. And you… the one who came from beyond this world."
The air trembled.
Space itself quivered between them, as if the void struggled to withstand the pressure of their mere presence.
The armored figure in black-gray laughed — a hoarse, twisted sound, equal parts amusement and madness.
"Beyond this world? Hahaha… yes, I was once of this world. Only… from a different timeline."
He stepped forward. Light from his armor glinted across the obscured face within the helm, revealing eyes blazing like embers.
"In any case… this false world, this staged world that's been rewritten a thousand times — it contains many versions of me… just as it contains many versions of you."
His voice dropped, heavy as cracking stone, reverberating through the great hall. Space contracted around them; threads of silver mist trembled like over-stretched strings. On the throne, the white-haired man remained composed, head tilted, golden gaze cool and indifferent as he watched.
"Dark Decade… tell me, did my plan to burn away human order truly fail?" Solomon asked. His words hissed like wind across metal. Each syllable probed, attempting to peel back the veil on truth.
"Yes… you failed… as did the seven Lostbelt kings… as did those Order Calls. In my timeline, they were all judged before the collapse." The black-gray armored man answered, his voice surgical and slow. Certainty chilled his tone, like a narrator reciting fates already carved in iron.
"So you have a way to change it?"
"Yeah… I have a way. Let that Lev wreck continue his scheme… I will deploy more 'personnel' to sabotage the historical timelines of this world." The words fell like sparks of a falling inferno. Around them, shards of fractured light scattered, coalescing into a grotesque halo.
From within his armor, he drew a crimson coin.
It flipped through the air — the red gleam cast a sinister shimmer across the vaulted ceiling of the white citadel. The coin spun lazily, then dropped into the metal palm of his gauntlet. The clink as it struck rang sharp and clear — like a bell tolling the seal of a dark covenant.
He murmured, closing his fist around it — voice neither prayer nor curse, but something in between, heavy with intent:
"Mash… Doctor Romani… Director Goredolf Musik… Holmes… Da Vinci…
Wait for me. Wait for the day I remake this world. We'll meet again and perhaps… those 'Greed' will make excellent stepping stones for my plan, won't they~?"
His words drifted into the void — names carried upon the current of collapsing time, echoing like a vow between dimensions.
Then silence returned to the white hall, heavy and absolute — broken only by the faint, distant rhythm of countless realities… counting down.