"Ready the stuff," Jerome said, guiding his fellows to carry the merchandise to the truck. With these babies, they'd made an easy cool ten mil. With the recent advancements in weapons technology, they were getting quite popular.
"Hold on." He frowned, finding something amiss. A growl escaped his lips, smacking his nearest lackey. "Van, I count only thirteen crates. The client ordered sixteen! You better not be trying any funny business."
"I don't know, sir," Van replied. "Philipp was supposed to bring the final three. He hadn't arrived already?"
"Obviously not! Go find him, you moron!"
"I'm afraid he's unable to make it." An unfamiliar face strolled into the parking lot. His dark skin stood out from the light body armor he was wearing. On his sleeve was a patch emblazoned with three interlaced triangles. "But maybe I can entertain you instead."
"Valhalla?!" Jerome tensed, recognizing the symbol of the law enforcement stooge.
"You are all under arrest for illegal arms smuggling. Put your hands in the air. Otherwise, this might get nasty." The Valhalla fool said.
"Kill this idiot." Jerome gestured to Van, who had a machine gun hung around his shoulder. Without hesitation, his men reached for their weapons.
As his men fired, the Valhalla agent pulled out some strange device, thrusting into the mechanical belt around his waist. "Henshin."
Everything slowed down as the barrage of bullets shot toward their intended victim. Jerome winced as the Valhalla tuff's body burst into golden light. As time resumed, a streak of light flashed across the sky.
"Huh?" Jerome blinked. What had just happened? A clinking caught his attention, and he gasped as bullets dropped from a golden floating sword. Impossible! Somehow, the blade caught every bullet in midair. Ten men had fired on him!
"It's Johan Engel! Kamen Rider Laevateinn!" One of his men said, trembling. While Jerome hadn't recognized the face, he'd seen the armor countless times on the news.
"We're so screwed!" Another said.
"So what?" Jerome could only laugh, unimpressed by the sudden appearance of this hero. After searching through a crate, he found his target. With a click, it hugged around his waist. It was almost insectoid-like, like some twisted nightmare dreamed up by H. R. Giger. The fear it inspired was one of its best features.
"A Kamen Rider? Big whoop!" While the client would disapprove of him using the merchandise, they'd rather not lose their purchase altogether. "Ancient history. That belt is an antique due for the scrap heap, boy. Terrorize!"
The belt was based on Angra Armlets bought on the black market, but a hundred times more advanced and powerful. This sucker didn't stand a chance. He grinned through jaws of countless teeth as he rose on eight newly formed legs.
"Spiders again, really?" Johan said, somewhat exasperated.
With his opponent distracted, Jerome's claws slashed at his victim's exposed throat. Then it was over.
"What?" Jerome collapsed to the ground, liquid pain burning across his body. His belt clattered to the pavement before sparking into flames. Above him stood Laevateinn, a sword in his hand. Flying above was a second sword, which hovered menacingly next to him.
Impossible. How had he lost? Jerome shrieked as a sword pointed at his jugular.
"I'd advise the rest of you to come quietly," Johan said, his tone not changing from casual conversation. In unison, the rest of Jerome's men nodded.
"Fool! We have others with even better belts. Then come soon enough, then you'll be sorry." Jerome just needed to keep this idiot talking until reinforcements arrived.
"Don't worry, all taken care of." A firm voice said. Another armored person jumped into the parking lot. They wielded a glowing short-handled hammer that sparked in one hand, their armor looking like some Viking hero.
"Who?"
"Call me, Kamen Rider Mjölnir. Laevateinn's partner." The woman said, brandishing her hammer. "You better capitulate, or there'll be trouble."
"Okay," Jerome said, deflating. There wasn't any point in resisting.
///
"Excellent work, Johan," Abbey said, giving him the thumbs up. Her belt clattered over her shoulder as they walked into their home office. "No one died. Director Holloway will be most pleased."
"You too," Johan replied. "It's a drop in the bucket, but at least we've stopped these weapons from getting into the hands of another drug cartel. That's the last anyone needs."
"Fine work indeed!" Dino said, wrapping his arms around both of them. It was somewhat awkward with how Abbey towered over them both. "Shame I couldn't join you. But the Director says no with this injured leg."
"And whose fault is that again?" With the unusual frequency with which Dino got injured, Johan supposed it was karma for the Boss's and Randel's deaths. Samuel found it most amusing. While they still beefed, his friend had mostly dropped the grudge. After Dino had helped saved the world, the rage of their lost Jotnar friends seemed pointless.
As usual, their headquarters bustled with activity. Friends gave him a wave as he passed. "Hey, Jim. Sure, I'd love to join you for drinks tonight."
"Well done." Director Holloway said from behind his desk. The former general gave Johan a hearty handshake. After some pleasantries, Johan and Abbey gave their debriefing.
Behind his folded fingers, Director Holloway smiled. "I'm sure Danut Carol will be disappointed he's not getting his little toys. But I'm sure he'll try again soon enough. Meanwhile, we'll keep him under surveillance."
While Johan wanted to smash in the drug lord's face, that wasn't Valhalla's job. They worked with Interpol to combat dangerous weapons and fight against Reine's remaining zombie beasts. While most dropped dead after ID-01 smashed the Hel's Ragnadriver, some still survived and caused trouble. Even after five years, sightings weren't uncommon. The woman in question was currently serving five consecutive life sentences, only barely dodging the death penalty. A fitting end in his mind. After an hour of paperwork, Johan left for his first errand.
///
"So, how was your date with Aliyah?" Samuel asked. Around them, plates clattered as servers rushed to answer the lunch rush.
In response, Johan only gave a noncommittal grunt as he sipped his coffee.
"That bad? Johan, that's the fifth failure in a row. A decent-looking guy like yourself shouldn't flail out that badly," Samuel said, shaking his head.
Johan could only roll his eyes, wondering why his love life mattered so much to his friend. "Beats me. I can't seem to find a girl that fits me."
"You get along well with Abbey. Why not try her?"
"Samuel, I'm not dating someone I work with. That's a terrible idea."
Then his friend turned unexpectedly serious. "Still hung over Ilma? If I recall, you two were close."
This gave Johan pause, not replying with his usual sarcasm. "I suppose. It's funny. We were barely acquainted, yet I think about her daily."
"Can't blame you after what happened." Instead of teasing Johan as expected, his friend gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "She won't want you to grieve for her forever, Johan. She'd want you to be happy."
"Yeah." Johan's words caught in his throat.
After that mood breaker, they spoke about happier topics. Johan inquired how Rebecca was doing, having not seen her in many months.
"The usual. Still working on that start-up company. Becca's finally found that investor. They hope to produce pretty soon," Samuel said.
Their fellow Jotnar had started a tech company for nanomedicine, a promising field bristling with potential. With people still weary of nanomachines after the Ragnarök Crisis, however, Rebecca had difficulty finding investors.
"Didn't Abbey say something about her friend Pihu joining as a lead scientist?" Johan said after a moment's consideration.
"Yep. Spoke with her the other day. She's working to ensure the product is safe. Don't want more zombies running around. And she's investigating nanomachines possible applications for space travel, like helping people survive better in zero-G. She still hasn't given that up."
"Good for her," Johan said, pleased the former Valkyrie had found a job she believed in.
"Give Alfre my greetings," Johan said, clasping his friend's arm as they departed the dinner.
"Sure thing." Samuel gave a bone-weary sigh. "With our second coming, she'll need it." When did his friend get so responsible?
"Later." Johan strapped on his helmet, boarding Yareli's old motorcycle. While he'd initially declined, Davidson had insisted he'd take it. With expert skill, Johan sped toward his next designation.
//
"How is he?" Johan asked as the bodyguard guided him into the manor.
"As usual." Despite James's usual stoicism, Johan detected the sadness behind his voice.
When they entered the study, they found the owner of this palatial manor. Simensen didn't even raise his head as they entered. Instead, he continued to slump in his wheelchair, unresponsive.
"Hey, Simensen," Johan said, tone somber. Since his defeat by ID-01's hand, the former president of Ophion Industries had remained this way. Despite the efforts of the best doctors, they'd been unable to revive him from this stupor. Considering the damage he'd caused under Surtur's mind control, it might be a mercy.
While Johan never enjoyed these meetings, he felt he owed it to his former employer. Despite his faults, Simensen didn't deserve this.
"I don't know what you'd make of today's world. But we're surviving." While difficult, companies had learned to survive without the stock market. Experts were working on a financial system that the Ragnarök Equation couldn't predict. The results looked hopeful. With the global economy still in shambles, they needed it.
"I realized you didn't intend for this to happen. You can at least rest knowing I'm making things better. Under my watch, there'll never be another Reine or Surtur again."
Was it Johan's imagination, or had Simensen just twitched? When he'd gotten no further reaction, Johan only sighed.
"I'll see you around, James," Johan said, eager to depart this depressing place.
"Thanks for visiting him, Johan," James replied with honest feeling. "Few do besides his mother."
After a brief exchange, Johan left for his final, more happy errand.
///
"Johan, greetings," Halvorsen said, bowing his head. Unlike his stepfather, the last few years hadn't been kind to the scientist. The light dusting of gray in his hair had turned into full silver. He was thinner, more haggard. While still a powerful presence, Halvorsen had noticeably diminished. "She's right this way."
"Still trying your hand at painting, ID-01?" Johan asked as they entered her room. Eerily, it mimicked Yareli's old one, canvases scattered everywhere. Framed near the window was Yareli's first painting, bringing a sudden tightness in his chest.
"It's stimulating. I can see why Ilma enjoyed it." The robot said, turning away from a half-finished drawing on a local Bifrost landscape. It showed a shimmering sea with a red-tinted sunset.
"It's too realistic," Johan said after studying it. "You should try mimicking Ilma's style. Make it more spontaneous."
"Isn't that what I'm doing?" ID-01 said, blinking.
"Not exactly." The robot still had much to learn. "How was your cruise with Davidson?"
"Enjoyable. We traveled along the Pacific Islands." Much to Johan's surprise, the pair had become fast friends. The old man hadn't allowed the robot's similarities to Yareli to bother him, embracing her sister with open arms.
"I'd love to join you sometime." If he ever got enough free time. The endless paperwork and trouble kept him so busy.
"Davidson is flying to Monte Carlo next."
"When you're done traveling, the Director told me to extend an invitation for a position in Valhalla. We could use your skills." The robot had gain quite a bit of fame, sadly getting most of the credit of Yareli's actions. Everyone assumed she was the original Fenrir, a rebel agent within Ymir. While Johan wanted to contradict them, he couldn't find the heart to do it. Yareli would rather remain anonymous, he felt.
"I'm tired of fighting." ID-01 gave a firm shake of her head. "I want to experience more of the world."
"So human." It was easy to forget that ID-01 was an AI. She'd grown so much.
"After this, want to go riding? I'm curious how much they've rebuilt Bifrost since I've left."
"I'd like that," Johan said, unable to hide his smile. A smile that ID-01 returned with enthusiasm.
---
Author's Note:
Thank you for reading this story. I wrote it a couple of years ago—one of my first novels, actually—and it sat untouched on my computer for years. I always wanted to do something with it, but never got around to it. On a whim, I finally decided to release it. Sorry if it's a bit rough. Even with some rewrites, it's not the best. It turns out cleaning up a story is a lot harder than it seems!
Still, I'm proud of it. This story helped me grow as a writer, and writing Toku is something I really enjoy. I especially liked writing Johan's arc, watching him grow from a loser, inept simp into a true hero. One of my favorite themes in Norse mythology is that you should never give up—fight even when it's hopeless. Courage is its own reward. That theme is deeply ingrained in this story. I think it's important to remember: it's not over until it's over. That's why I've always liked Toku—hope always prevails.
That said, I'm still annoyed with myself for letting Yareli fall victim to the "female Rider curse"! How did I let that happen? I wanted her to fall and come back to life, hopefully with her human body restored, but it never quite panned out. I thought of fusing her with ID-01, but I felt that would diminish both characters and ruin ID-01's development. On top of that, I ended up power-creeping Yareli right out of the story! Everyone else became way stronger than her—even Dino! Why didn't I give her a cool power-up or something? Sigh. I promise I'll never kill off or power-creep my main character again!
Strangely enough, Dino turned out to be my favorite character. He just amuses me. From the start, I always intended him to become a big player—I like it when seemingly minor characters grow into something important. But a Kamen Rider? Never.
I have another Toku-inspired story bouncing around in my head, ready to be written, but I've got other obligations at the moment. Sigh. I give myself way too many writing projects. I'll get to it eventually, I hope. Until then, see you later. If you liked this story, check out my other ones—they're a lot better than this one. Later!
Thanks to everyone and your support,
Jonathanvik