Another day, another chapter.
I have a question, Should MC harem girls gain Rider form? Like Cassandra getting a variant of Kamen rider Kivara.
That aside, People want Seiko to be mc Grandma but I'm unsure because of Momo Ayase.
I was leaning more on Natsu Inage but we will see how things go.
Anyway, Enjoy. Toodaloo bitch.
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[ Introduction Arc ]
Location: Gotham City
Time: 9:30 AM, Sunday
Date: March 18, 20xx
Raven followed Tendo down a short corridor that led into the garage.
The moment the lights flicked on, she paused.
The space was immaculately organized—tools of all kinds lined the walls. Wrenches, drills, spare parts, and specialized equipment were arranged by size and function, not a single item out of place. It felt less like a normal garage and more like a personal workshop.
Her eyes then drifted to the vehicles parked inside.
One was a red family car, clean and well-maintained, clearly capable of seating at least four people.
The other, however, immediately caught her attention.
A motorcycle.
Its sleek frame bore the same color scheme she had seen the night before—deep red accented with black and silver. The design was sharp and aerodynamic, almost predatory, as if it had been built for speed rather than comfort.
Raven stared at it for a moment longer than she realized.
'…It matches his armor.'
"You like it?" Tendo asked, noticing her gaze.
"It's… impressive," Raven said honestly.
"It has an enthusiastic vibe."
Tendo shrugged as he reached for his keys.
She glanced back at the neatly arranged tools.
"Are you into vehicles?"
"One of my hobbies," he replied casually.
Raven nodded slowly.
Tendo walked past the motorcycle and toward the car, tapping the roof of the red vehicle lightly.
"I usually use the bike," he said. "But for today, we'll take the car."
Raven glanced back at the motorcycle one last time. "That thing looks like it could outrun half of Gotham."
"It can," Tendo replied without hesitation. The Motorcycle was a Kabuto Extender that connected with his Rider Belt. He received it when he bought a motorcycle and when he had his belt on suddenly transformed into the Kabuto extender.
He questioned if this is done by whatever brought him to this world with fragmented memories of his past. Tendo never tried to dwell into it too deeply because there weren't any reasons too. Who he was in the past already died and consider the memories as from another person.
Though, some part of his other life influences his action and personality.
He glanced at Raven and if he had to be honest he normally won't save people that often as he is someone whose goal is to become the strongest and live up to his name.
Regardless, his other self had attraction towards Raven among other women in this world.
Tendo knew that with his charisma and social skills it was rather easy for him to flirt and take a woman's hearts like he did during his high school days.
"I'll take you for a ride sometime. When we have the time."
Raven smiled softly at that. She appreciated the thought but unfortunately.
'That won't happen,' she thought. 'I won't be here long enough.'
She kept the thought to herself. Raven is grateful for his persistence in helping her but staying was not an option that she could afford even if he was able to protect himself does not mean people like Cassandra could.
Unaware what kind of person Cassandra was.
The garage door rolled open, letting in the muted gray light of Gotham's morning. Tendo moved ahead of her and opened the front passenger door, gesturing for her to get in.
"After you."
Raven slid into the seat, surprised by how comfortable it was. The interior was clean, warm, and faintly smelled of coffee and engine oil—oddly reassuring.
Tendo closed the door, walked around the car, and settled into the driver's seat with practiced ease.
"Buckle up," he said as he started the engine.
Raven did so, the seatbelt clicking into place just as the car eased forward.
The garage faded behind them, replaced by the familiar, grim skyline of Gotham as they drove away.
Eventually, Tendo parked the car and shut off the engine.
"We'll buy your clothes first," he said as he stepped out. "Then we'll handle the groceries."
Raven followed him, nodding. "Alright."
She hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "I… I'll repay you someday. I promise."
Tendo paused, glancing back at her with a calm, almost amused expression.
"You're overthinking it," he said simply.
"Debts have a way of settling themselves."
Raven studied his face, trying to sense hidden intent—but found none. Only certainty.
"…You're strange," she murmured.
"So I've been told," Tendo replied as he started walking.
Raven exhaled softly and followed, the weight in her chest feeling just a little lighter as they headed inside.
Raven quickly realized something was wrong the moment they stepped into the clothing store.
Rows upon rows of neatly arranged outfits surrounded her—casual wear, formal attire, dresses, jackets, things meant for normal people living normal lives. Bright lights, soft music, and the quiet murmur of other shoppers made the place feel unreal.
She stopped walking.
"…There are too many choices," Raven muttered.
Tendo glanced back at her. "Yet only a few match you."
She shot him a look. "It's overwhelming."
Raven picked up a simple black sweater, then set it back down. Then she reached for a pair of jeans, only to hesitate again. Her hands hovered, unsure.
'I've never had to choose things like this…
It was always running and hiding while barely surviving.'
Tendo watched her for a moment before speaking.
"My grandmother once said," he began casually, already earning a suspicious look from Raven.
"'Indecision is just fear wearing polite clothes.'"
"…You say that a lot," Raven commented dryly.
"Because it's usually correct," he replied without missing a beat.
He reached out and plucked a dark-purple hoodie from the rack, then a fitted jacket and a pair of jeans.
"These," he said, handing them to her.
"They suit you."
Raven blinked. "You didn't even hesitate."
"I have excellent judgment."
"That's not what I meant."
He leaned slightly closer, voice calm but confident. "You prefer darker colors and something comfortable. And you don't like drawing attention but still want something that brings out your personality."
Raven froze.
'Am I that easy to read?"
"…You're annoyingly perceptive," she said, cheeks warming.
"Obviously. It's quite easy with all the goth vibe you radiate off."
Tendo bluntly said and Raven wanted to deny it but he was right. She never thought too hard on what to wear and how she looks. She only picks what she prefers and most of the time it would be a dark aesthetic.
She took the clothes and headed to the fitting room, emerging a few minutes later. The outfit fit perfectly—comfortable, modest, yet flattering in a way she wasn't used to seeing.
Tendo looked her over once, nodded. "As expected."
Raven crossed her arms. "You could at least pretend to be impressed."
"That would be dishonest," he said.
"You look good. Obviously."
Her blush deepened. "You're… really blunt and…that arrogant tone kinda pissed me off."
"And you noticed. I've mentioned that I am a man who walks the path of heaven and will rule everything, " he replied with a faint smirk.
"As if that ever happened. You have a lot of competition and one of them is my father." Raven said considering her father wants to conquer Earth and many more realities.
"I doubt you'll be able to defeat him." She stated believing that it would be impossible to defeat and completely destroy trigon as he is an evil incarnate and will simply resurrect himself in some form.
"Then that day will be an occasion," Tendo said.
He stopped walking, set the shopping bags down for a moment, and raised his hand—index finger pointing toward the sky in a confident, almost theatrical pose.
Raven turned to him, puzzled. "An occasion for what?"
Tendo's red eyes gleamed as he spoke, his voice calm yet overflowing with absolute certainty.
"My grandmother once said," he began,
"'When a man stands at the summit, even demons must look up.'"
He lowered his hand and looked directly at Raven.
"If your father, Trigon, stands in your way," Tendo continued evenly,
"Then I will defeat him. Gods, demons, kings—it makes no difference. All obstacles fall before the one who walks the path of Heaven."
Raven froze.
There was no bravado in his tone. No anger. No doubt.
Only fact.
"…You're unbelievably arrogant," she said quietly.
"Of course," Tendo replied. "But arrogance without strength is foolishness."
He turned and resumed walking, leaving her to stare at his back.
"And I," he added over his shoulder, "have more than enough strength."
Raven's heart pounded—not with fear this time, but with something dangerously close to hope.
They continued shopping, the tension slowly easing into something lighter.
A quiet montage followed.
Tendo casually tossing clothes over the fitting room door while Raven protested.
Raven refusing dresses, only for Tendo to comment.
"A shame. I did think it looked good on you." Her rolling her eyes while secretly appreciating that he respected her boundaries.
"I'm not dressing up for you, you know?" Raven said.
"Doesn't matter. At least the other attire was great." Tendo said without missing a beat and Raven smiled hearing his compliment.
At the counter, Raven glanced at the bags in his hands.
"…You really didn't have to do all this."
Tendo shrugged. "I did."
She looked at him, then away. "You know, for someone so full of himself… you're not a bad person."
He tilted his head. "High praise."
"…Don't let it go to your head."
"I already accounted for that," he said smoothly.
Raven sighed—but this time, she was smiling.
Meanwhile, far from Earth—beyond space, beyond time—there existed a hellish realm where reality itself screamed.
The sky burned in shades of crimson and black, torn open by endless storms of fire and shadow. Rivers of molten rock carved through shattered plains littered with the remains of conquered worlds. The air was thick with agony—countless voices wailing in eternal torment, their suffering woven into the very fabric of the dimension.
At the center of it all stood Trigon.
He towered over the landscape like a living apocalypse, a colossal demonic figure whose presence alone warped the ground beneath him. His skin was a deep, infernal red, etched with faint, glowing runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. From his skull rose massive, antler-like horns, jagged and twisted, curving upward as if they were meant to pierce the heavens themselves.
Four eyes burned upon his face—two where they should be, and two more set above them—each one glowing with a hellish red light. His long white hair cascaded down his back like a mockery of purity, stark against his monstrous form.
Great clawed hands, each finger tipped with obsidian talons, clenched and relaxed as raw power bled from him in waves. With every breath he took, the realm trembled, and the screams of the damned grew louder—as if the universe itself feared his attention.
This was no mere demon.
This was a conqueror of dimensions.
The Father of Rachel Roth.
Trigon.
And somewhere, far away, he felt her.
"Hmph! You actually found someone capable of helping you, Daughter."
Trigon's voice reverberated across the hellish realm, a deep, guttural growl laced with disappointment and contempt. The very ground cracked beneath his feet as his gaze turned toward the distant plane of Earth, his four glowing eyes narrowing.
"I sent my servants to capture you," he continued, claws flexing as shadows coiled around his massive form. "To drag you back where you belong. And yet… they failed."
His expression twisted—not in rage, but in irritation. To him, the loss of demons was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
Despite his immeasurable power, Trigon could not simply step into Earth's realm. His existence was too vast, too alien, too overwhelmingly destructive. The planet was shielded by ancient magical barriers—wards woven long ago by powerful sorcerers, mystics, and guardians who understood the catastrophe his arrival would bring.
Those protections barred him.
For now.
Still, no defense was perfect.
Tiny cracks existed within the barriers—flaws invisible to mortals, but clear as day to a being like Trigon. Through those fractures, he extended his will, slipping demons and lesser avatars through like poison seeping through stone.
Each one capable of wreaking havoc.
Trigon's lips curled into a cruel smile.
"It simply means I need to create demons capable of fighting this… human."
Trigon's four eyes gleamed with anticipation as he observed from his hellish throne. He could feel the human's movements, the unnatural speed, the precision, the way he bent the flow of space and time around himself with every strike.
A cruel grin spread across his face. He raised his clawed hands, and the wails of countless trapped souls rippled through the air like a twisted symphony.
"Perfect," he whispered. "Their essence and suffering….will create what is necessary."
The air thickened with black energy as Trigon began siphoning the souls from the worlds he had conquered, shaping them into horrific forms. Each one twisted, fused, and molded into monstrous demons—some with multiple limbs, some with jagged, metallic-like exoskeletons, others with grotesque, shifting faces and gaping maws.
He watched the process with delight, imagining the chaos they would bring to Earth.
"They will be stronger and will allow me to gauge on the capabilities of this mortal huaman," he said with a voice low ,
"They may fall before him… or at least, I will ensure they push this human to his limits."
The hellish landscape quaked as the newly formed demons rose, shrieking, their bodies dripping with infernal energy. Trigon's laughter echoed through the void, a sound that promised devastation and inevitable confrontation.