Sitting cross-legged on the dusty floor, he began assembling them. Carefully, deliberately, he arranged the miniature figures in a circle. Each Rider faced inward, arms extended, as if hugging the ones next to them. At the center, he paused, his fingers hovering over the nanite orb in his palm.
The circle of Riders he arranged sat quietly on the counter: Fourze, W, Exaid, OOO, Ghost, Wizard, Gaim, Drive, Build… and in the center, the tiny figure he crafted of himself, still warm from the nanites hardening.
With a precise pulse of his Vythra, he formed a tiny replica of himself in Erevos Frame — gleaming cobalt and silver, visor catching the dim light like a tiny heartbeat. A miniature version of the Erevos Frame, small enough to sit in a child's palm — glimmered into existence.
He placed it gently in the center of the worn‑out Rider circle.
Agnes' voice chimed in, teasing as always but laced with curiosity. "Mmm~ Karl~ why would you waste nanites on this little… display? Seems… frivolous, don't you think?"
Karl smiled — small, sad, honest.
"It's not for me."
He positioned the figures carefully, making sure each Rider faced the tiny Erevos at the center.
Karl's gaze lingered on the miniature circle. He smiled faintly, a soft, distant light in his eyes. "It's not waste, Agnes. It's… for him."
Her tone faltered, almost gentle now. "Him…?"
"The boy I used to be," Karl said quietly, voice steady but tender. "He dreamed of being a hero. He collected these… loved these… wanted to save the world. I can't give him the whole world… but I can give him this."
"It's for the boy who never got to grow up with his parents.
The boy who watched heroes from a hospital bed.
The boy who only ever dreamed of being strong."
Agnes' voice softened to a breath.
"…You're giving him his dream."
Karl stood slowly, dusting off his coat.
"No. I'm giving him closure."
Agnes was silent for a moment, the usual teasing absent. "…I see. A gift for your younger self, huh? Poetic."
Agnes watched him, her hologram flickering with a soft pale-blue shimmer.
"You expended more than 3% of your nanite reserve to make that," she said, her tone gently scolding. "That's… wasteful, Karl."
Karl didn't look away from the figures.
"It's not wasteful," he said quietly. "I promised him."
He tapped the miniature of himself — the one placed in the middle of all the Riders hugging each other.
"The kid who never got to run. The kid who prayed every day just to make it to tomorrow. I told him he'd get to be a hero one day."
A soft breath left his chest. "Just… checking off a dream he never thought he'd get."
Karl adjusted the tiny Erevos figure, making sure it fit snugly in the circle. "Yeah. Maybe it's small… maybe it doesn't matter in the grand scheme. But for him… it means everything."
The circle glimmered faintly in the ruins, a halo of memories and dreams, a silent promise bridging two centuries. Karl exhaled, letting the weight of time ease just a little.
"Now," he murmured, looking at the tiny Riders, "we rest for a bit… then, Tokyo."
Agnes' teasing returned, lighter now. "Mmm~ that's my driver~ finally showing some tenderness between all that raw power of yours."
Karl smirked under his visor, a single spark of warmth cutting through the desolation around them.
He took one last look at the circle — the heroes hugging each other, and his miniature self standing in the middle — before turning toward the broken exit.
Agnes whispered, warm and teasing again now that his heart had steadied:
"Mmm~ you big sentimental machine~ I didn't know you could still melt like that~"
Karl exhaled.
"That's because I don't do it often."
Agnes giggled. "Then I'll treasure it~"
And with that, he walked out of the small ruined shop — leaving behind the only shrine little Karl ever needed.
Agnes didn't speak again. She didn't need to.
Karl finally pushed himself to his feet, dusting off the ash clinging to his sleeves. The sentimentality faded; the mission returned. His HUD flickered alive across his vision with a soft bluish glare.
> OBJECTIVE: CONTINUE EAST.
ENERGY LEVELS: SUSTAINABLE.
NEXT SAFE CITY HUB: PHILADELPHIA.
Karl blinked. "…Philadelphia?"
Agnes nodded. "Yes. The Vythra currents there are stable. And—"
Her tone shifted, a rare, almost human softness creeping in.
"—you'll find more supplies. And less… memories."
Karl snorted. "You don't say."
He turned once more toward the ruined shop — toward the little boy he used to be — and gave a small, solemn nod as if sealing a final goodbye.
Then he stepped out onto the cracked pavement, pulling his hood low as the wind scattered loose papers and ash around his boots.
"C'mon, Agnes."
His voice had hardened again, sharpened by purpose.
"Let's head to Philly."
The hologram floated beside him as he started walking, the city skyline collapsing behind them, the horizon ahead glowing faint blue through the fog.
"Route recalculated," Agnes said.
"Welcome back, Karl."
He didn't answer.
He just walked — leaving behind the Riders, the memories, and the boy who once wished his bones didn't crack when he stood.