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Deep beneath the bustling streets of New York City, in a forgotten subway tunnel, the remaining Grongi gathered. The air crackled with barely suppressed rage. Graffiti-covered walls served as a grim backdrop to their frustration. The flickering fluorescent lights cast long, distorted shadows, amplifying their monstrous features.
"That blasted red dragon!" Gadra roared, his voice echoing through the tunnel. He slammed a fist against the concrete wall, leaving a visible dent. "It interfered! Kuuga was as good as dead!"
Ladya, ever composed, adjusted her collar. "The Dispider's failure is equally infuriating." She paused, her gaze hard. "That beast was specifically designed to eliminate threats within the Mirror World. How did Kuuga manage to prevail?"
Balva remained silent, her crimson eyes narrowed in thought. The defeat at the parking garage still stung, the image of the red dragon, Dragreder, burning in her mind. She should have ended Kuuga there. Now, not only was the Rider still alive, he had somehow formed an alliance with the very creature that had saved him.
"And now," Gadra continued, "Kuuga controls the red dragon! This is worse than before."
"The Executive will not be pleased," Ladya said softly, and the tunnel fell silent. The name hung in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on them all. They had failed. And failure, in the eyes of Dai-Shocker, was not an option.
Suddenly, a ripple of darkness spread across the tunnel, the air grew cold. The Grongi stiffened, recognizing the telltale sign of his arrival. From the shadows, the Dai-Shocker Executive emerged, his crisp military uniform impeccable even in the grime of their hideout. His stern gaze swept over the assembled Grongi.
"Report," he commanded, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.
Balva stepped forward, her voice carefully controlled. "We engaged Kuuga as planned. However, Dispider was eliminated within the Mirror World."
The Executive's eyes narrowed, but he did not interrupt.
"Furthermore," Balva continued, swallowing hard, "A red dragon, interfered during our engagement with Kuuga. It defeated Gadra and Ladya, forcing us to retreat. The dragon is now under Kuuga's control."
A long silence followed, broken only by the dripping of water from the tunnel ceiling. The Executive's face remained impassive, an expression that was far more terrifying than any outright display of anger.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "Dispider… eliminated? And Kuuga… controls this red dragon?" The executive paused as if processing the information, "You have been given everything you could ask for in order to bring a Rider, and now this is the report you deliver?"
Balva averted her gaze, unable to meet his cold stare. "We underestimated Kuuga's power," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.
The Executive's fist clenched, his knuckles turning white. "Underestimated?" he repeated, his voice rising. "Incompetence! That is what I see before me! Without Dai-Shocker's power, you were nothing but animals! The Ultimate Darkness must be achieved. The Grongi's game is an integral part of the master plan!" The executive paused, and turned to Balva. "You assured me the Grongi were more than capable of doing this task."
Balva stayed silent, unable to say a thing.
"You are failures," he said, his voice filled with rage.
The air in the tunnel grew colder, the Executive's rage palpable. His words hung heavy, each syllable a condemnation. He turned to Balva, his hand raised as if to strike. "You are failures," he repeated, "and for your failure, you should be terminated—"
Suddenly, a new voice cut through the tension, smooth and deceptively calm. "Now, now, is that really necessary?"
The Executive froze, his hand dropping to his side. He turned slowly, his eyes widening in a mixture of surprise and… respect. Standing at the edge of the tunnel's light, was another figure. This one clad in orange and silver armor, the crab-like visor glinting ominously in the dim light.
It was Kamen Rider Scissors.
The Executive bowed his head, his posture shifting from one of fury to subservience. "Scissors-sama," he said, his voice losing all its earlier edge. "What brings you to this… unsavory location?"
Scissors chuckled, the sound echoing through the tunnel. "Word travels fast, even across dimensions. I heard there was a… disturbance. A Kamen Rider, you say?" He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the Grongi, their monstrous forms now cowering before him. "And it seems you've managed to botch things up quite spectacularly."
"We are handling the situation, Scissors-sama," the Executive said quickly, his voice laced with a desperate attempt to regain control. "We were merely… discussing appropriate disciplinary action."
Scissors raised a clawed hand, silencing the Executive. "I've also heard whispers of this 'red dragon'. A peculiar creature. Known as Dragreder, a Mirror Monster."
He turned his attention to the Executive, his expression unreadable behind the metallic visor. "Do you understand what this means? The Rider possesses the powers of Kuuga and Ryuki. This is a rare occurrence. A dangerous combination."
The Executive hesitated, his mind racing. He knew of the Mirror World, of course. Dai-Shocker had experimented with its power before. But the idea of a single Rider wielding the power of both Kuuga and Ryuki was… unprecedented.
"My task," Scissors continued, his voice regaining its sharp edge, "is simple. Eliminate this Kamen Rider. Or, if he proves… amenable… invite him to join Dai-Shocker."
The Executive nodded, his mind reeling. He had thought his mission was of utmost importance, but this… this was something far bigger. Something that had attracted the attention of a being far higher in the Dai-Shocker hierarchy.
"I understand, Scissors-sama," he said, bowing deeply. "The Grongi and I are at your command. We will do whatever is necessary to assist you in your mission."
Scissors laughed again, a cold, dismissive sound. "I appreciate the offer," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But I do not require your assistance. I have my own methods. My own… monsters, if you will." He glanced at the Grongi. "You are, after all, currently on thin ice, are you not?"
He turned, his blue and silver armor gleaming as he prepared to leave. "Remember," he said, his voice carrying a clear warning, "Do not interfere. I do not tolerate meddling."
With a final, chilling chuckle, Scissors disappeared into the shadows, leaving the Executive and the Grongi alone in the dimly lit tunnel. The Executive straightened, his face a mask of carefully controlled composure.
Balva turned towards him. "What now?"
"Now," the Executive responded, "We follow Scissors-sama's orders. We will stay out of his way and hope he deals with this… problem, for us."
The other Grongi simply nodded, none of them daring to speak.
As Scissors walked away, he laughed under his breath. "This is going to be interesting…"
…
Ace paces the halls of Midtown High, steeling himself. He needs to fix things with Nico and Berto. Gwen was right: honesty, even partial honesty, is the best approach. He can't reveal everything about Kamen Rider, Mirror Monsters, or Dai-Shocker, but he can offer them a glimpse into the chaos that has consumed his life.
First, a peace offering. He knows Nico has a soft spot for terrible movies — the kind that are so bad, they loop back around to being amazing. A perfect choice comes to mind.
He pulls out three tickets from his pocket. Flaming Skull 2: The Retribution. He can practically hear Nico's sarcastic commentary already.
Taking a deep breath, Ace heads towards their usual hangout spot near the lockers. He spots them: Nico, radiating disapproval, and Berto, looking like he wants to be anywhere else. This is it.
Ace positions himself so they can't avoid him. He intercepts them.
"Nico, Berto," Ace says, trying for a casual tone that feels anything but.
Nico's eyes narrow. "What do you want, Ace?" Her voice is cold.
Berto fidgets. "Hey, Ace…"
Ace holds up the tickets. "I got these. Thought you guys might be interested."
Nico raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Tickets? For what?"
Ace knows Nico will like this movie. It is a so bad it is good movie. It's Flaming Skull 2: The Retribution .
Nico hesitates. Her expression softens slightly. She glances at Berto, then back at Ace. The allure of schlocky cinema is a strong one.
Ace presses his advantage. "Look, I know I've been… distant. I just want to talk. Hang out. Like we used to."
Seeing the sincerity in Ace's eyes, Nico's resistance crumbles just a little bit. She knows that Ace has not been telling them everything, but she relents. "Fine," she says, sighing. "But you're buying the popcorn."
Ace's face breaks into a relieved smile. "Deal!" He hands Nico the tickets. "Don't be late. The movie starts at 7:00."
Nico takes the tickets. "Don't worry, Ace. We won't be late. Make sure it is you who is not late."
Ace laughs, a genuine sound that eases the tension. With that, Ace turns and heads in the opposite direction.
Ace walked away from Nico and Berto. He smiled. Maybe they can be friends again.
Bruce drove a beat-up sedan through the streets of Harlem. The car rattled and groaned with every pothole he hit. Betty sat beside him, her expression a mixture of hope and concern. The streets were grimy, the buildings worn.
Bruce glanced at her. "Almost there, Betty."
She offered a small smile. "You sure about this, Bruce? About your friend? You never even met this guy."
"He's my best shot. He knows more about gamma radiation than anyone else I know. He is Mr. Blue after all." Bruce gripped the steering wheel tighter. "I have to try."
Betty reached over and placed a hand on his arm. "I know you do."
Bruce navigated through the labyrinthine streets, finally pulling up to a nondescript building. The windows were dark, the entrance hidden behind a graffiti-covered wall.
"This is it," Bruce said, cutting the engine.
Betty surveyed the building with a wary eye. "Doesn't exactly scream 'state-of-the-art laboratory.'"
"Sterns isn't exactly one for appearances," Bruce replied, his tone laced with a hint of nervousness. He knew Sterns was brilliant, but also eccentric and unpredictable. "Let's just get this over with."
Bruce got out of the car, Betty following close behind. They walked towards the hidden entrance, Bruce punching in a code on a keypad concealed beneath a loose brick. The door clicked open.
"Here we go," Bruce muttered, leading Betty inside.
They didn't know that they were being watched.
A black SUV idled a block away, its tinted windows hiding its occupants. Inside, General Ross stared intently at the building through a pair of binoculars.
"They're here," Ross growled, his voice tight with anticipation. "Finally."
Beside him, Emil Blonsky leaned forward, his eyes burning with a dangerous intensity. "Let me go in there, General. Let me finish this."
Ross glanced at Blonsky, assessing his eagerness. "Patience, soldier. We wait for Banner to make his move. Then, we bring him in. Along with whatever freak show he's cooked up this time."
Blonsky clenched his fists, his knuckles white. The Hulk. The green monster that had humiliated him, made him feel weak. He wanted another shot. He needed another shot.
"Sir, I have a bad feeling about this," a young lieutenant said from the front seat. "This whole thing feels off."
Ross scoffed. "Your feelings are irrelevant, Lieutenant. Our objective is Banner. And we're about to achieve it."
Back in the building, Bruce and Betty descended into the basement.
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