Gotham City ~ January 1, 16:16 EST ~
The stale air of Gotham's undercity clung to the walls, damp and foul. Superboy moved cautiously through the shallow water of the sewer line, every step echoing with heavy splashes. Above him, invisible to the naked eye, Megan floated silently, scanning the darkness with her mind.
'Nothing yet… but something's off. Stay sharp, Conner.'
Superboy grunted, his senses keyed to every ripple. 'Yeah. Place reeks worse than Croc.'
They followed the trail toward a wide cistern where stagnant water pooled into a black pond. The moment Superboy stepped closer—
SPLASH!
A massive clay hand erupted from the pond, fingers like giant tendrils of mud, coiling around his torso. Before he could resist, he was yanked under.
Superboy struggled, his body straining against the crushing pressure of wet earth. Then, from the water, a huge mass surged upward—shapeless, shifting, dripping sludge. Eyes and a grotesque grin formed from the muck.
Clayface.
He pulled Superboy tight against his chest, his body trying to engulf him whole.
"What are you going to do, Superboy? Can you breathe inside me?" Clayface's voice oozed smug amusement. "Let's test it."
Superboy's muffled roar was swallowed by mud.
"Let him go!" Megan's voice rang out as she dropped her invisibility and unleashed a psychic wave. Clayface reeled back, the hold loosening just enough for her to yank Superboy free.
But the villain only chuckled, reforming his bulk. His hands stretched and twisted into jagged spikes.
"We can play this all day, missy. You can't do a thing against me."
With a roar, he swung. The clay spikes slammed into Superboy, sending him crashing into a stone wall. Megan raised a psychic barrier, deflecting another blow, but the impact cracked her shield and forced her back.
Then—
THWIP!
Three batarangs cut through the air, embedding themselves into Clayface's torso. They beeped once—
BOOM!
The explosions blasted chunks of clay across the cistern. The villain howled, struggling to pull himself back together. From the shadows of a cracked pillar, a hooded figure emerged.
Robin, Tim Drake.
"You're too slow," he muttered, his young but steady voice carrying confidence far beyond his years.
Superboy seized the moment. He hurled a pill-like capsule into Clayface's half-formed body. Megan instantly erected a telekinetic shield, trapping Clayface in place like a bubble.
The villain sneered, trying to push outward—until his body began to swell grotesquely, expanding unnaturally.
Clayface stumbled, his voice warping. "What—what did you do—"
The capsule burst inside him, releasing a rapid-hardening chemical. His body convulsed as the liquid spread, forcing his clay mass to solidify. Megan's shield locked him in as the reaction finished.
With a final screech, Clayface collapsed into a hardened, brittle statue.
Superboy smirked, wiping grime from his face. "Guess you're not so tough after all."
From a nearby pipe, a green-scaled crocodile dropped into the water, landing with a heavy splash. He stretched, cracking his neck as he shifted into his human form. Beast boy scowled.
"It's over already?!" he barked. "Didn't even get a punch in!"
Superboy chuckled. "Cry about it."
Overhead, two streaks of color zipped down. Blue Beetle landed with his scarab armor gleaming under the dim sewer lights, while Bumblebee shrank back to normal size after buzzing around Clayface's statue.
Blue Beetle's faceplate peeled open as Jaime groaned. "Dude, that smell—seriously. I'm gonna puke."
Bumblebee covered her nose. "I think I am hurling."
Ignoring them, Megan tapped her temple, speaking through the mental link. "Target secured. Preparing transport."
Mount Justice ~ January 1, 18:40 EST ~
The zeta-tube glowed as the team returned to Mount Justice. Nightwing was already there, sparring shirtless against Lagoon Boy in the training area. The fight was fast, clean—Nightwing flipping over a strike, landing behind him with a sweep that sent Lagoon Boy sprawling.
"Recognized: Team Beta, return from mission."
Nightwing turned as the group entered. His blue domino mask glinted under the light. "Report."
Robin stepped forward. The new boy wonder stood tall despite his youth, cape brushing the floor as he spoke.
"Clayface neutralized. Secured with inhibitor formula."
Nightwing raised an eyebrow. "Clean and fast. Good work." He looked at each of them—Superboy still streaked with clay, Megan faintly drained, Jaime and Bumblebee bickering quietly. Then his gaze lingered on Tim.
"Not bad, new kid. Not bad at all."
Tim gave the faintest of smirks.
Japan,Tokyo ~ January 1, 20:15 EST ~
The neon glow of Tokyo's skyline flickered against the night sky—but the streets below were chaos. Screams echoed as civilians fled in every direction, their shadows distorted by firelight and collapsing steel.
From the alleys, monsters poured out—Orphnochs with bone-white armor, Fangires with stained-glass wings, Worms flickering through time shifts. Together, they tore through cars and buildings, an unholy alliance of creatures that shouldn't exist side by side.
Explosions rippled through the Shinjuku district as the first military convoy roared onto the scene. Two black armored vehicles screeched to a halt, spotlights blazing across the battlefield.
"Deploy! Deploy!"
Soldiers in tactical exosuits jumped out, each carrying sleek, belt-like devices at their waists—Smart Buckles. With a synchronized motion, they slapped the buckles on. A mechanical voice echoed:
"SMART BUCKLE — ONLINE."
Energy coursed over their bodies, plating them in compact armor. The soldiers surged forward, engaging the monsters head-on. Bullets sparked off Orphnoch hides, energy blades clashed with Fangire talons, and grenades scattered Worms mid-shift.
But then—
A boy rushed into the fray.
Eighteen, dark-haired, with fire in his eyes. He pulled a sleek, golden-black device from his pocket—the Kaixa Phone.
He flicked it open like a cell phone.
-STANDING BY!
He snapped it into the belt buckle at his waist and yelled out.
"Henshin."
-COMPLETE!
A surge of golden light engulfed him, circuitry tracing across his frame as the Kaixa armor assembled over his body—sleeker, sharper than its original iteration, built for raw power.
Kamen Rider Kaixa.
The boy—Hiro Okamura—tightened his grip on the bladed gun-sword, Kaixa Blaygun. He didn't hesitate.
"Out of my way!"
He charged straight into the horde, reckless and furious. His blade cleaved through an Orphnoch's chest, scattering it into dust. He spun, blasting a Fangire mid-flight, shards of glass raining down. Soldiers tried to cover him, but Hiro was already leaping headlong at a cluster of Worms, firing wildly.
"Damn it, kid, slow down!" one of the captains barked, but Hiro didn't listen.
The Worms shifted, blinking behind him. A spike of chitin slashed across his back, sparks flying from his armor. Hiro staggered but growled, swinging blindly. He clipped one, but another's mandibles snapped around his shoulder.
"Get off me!" Hiro roared, activating the Blaygun's charge. Energy built—
-EXCEED CHARGE!
The blade pulsed with golden light, and Hiro thrust it upward, disintegrating the Worm in a burst of flames. He stumbled out of the smoke, panting inside the helmet.
Around him, the monsters regrouped. The boy's stance faltered.
From high above, in a skyscraper office untouched by the chaos, a lone man watched the screen. Hands folded, his gaze calm.
Ryotaro.
Not the same reckless boy who once fought beside heroes years ago. Now older, sharper, carrying a different kind of weight.
He watched Kaixa cut and stumble, fight and nearly fall. Every reckless swing told him the same story.
When the battle finally pushed the monsters back and the soldiers secured the perimeter, Hiro limped toward the base of the skyscraper, Kaixa armor dissolving into fading sparks. He dropped the phone into his pocket, sweat running down his temple.
Inside the president's room of the Smart Brain main office, Hiro entered and froze. Ryotaro stood there, silhouetted against the city lights, arms crossed.
"You fought like a child," Ryotaro said flatly.
Hiro's eyes narrowed. "I saved people, didn't I?"
"You almost got yourself killed. And worse—you almost got your team killed trying to cover you."
Hiro clenched his fists. "What do you know?! You just stood here watching!"
Ryotaro stepped forward, eyes like steel. "I know weakness when I saw one and I've seen enough. You swing too wide. You rush in without thought. You don't listen. That armor doesn't make you invincible, Hiro. It just makes you a target."
Hiro's glare faltered. "Then… what do I do?"
Ryotaro placed a hand on his shoulder, firm but not unkind.
"Learn to fight smart. Learn to fight as if every move could be your last. Because one day, it will be. And if you're not ready…" His voice lowered. "…the people you swore to protect will be the ones to die first."
The weight of the words sank in. Hiro looked down, silent, Kaixa Phone heavy in his pocket.
*********
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