"What the?" Ralph squinted as he studied his computer screen, staring in amazement. This equation was a masterpiece.
"Predict the stock market?" It must be some prank. The variables involved would be insane. His mouse wheel squeaked as he rolled down the equation's numerous pages. Despite earning a master's in computer science, Ralph had difficulty understanding the document's intricacies.
"I wonder if Ranjit would make better sense of this." His partner would mock him for falling for such an obvious prank, but Ralph couldn't help but wonder.
A call distracted him, and he pushed aside the mysterious equation for a later date. With their current project behind schedule, he couldn't afford any distractions. The client had demanded several key changes, yet somehow expected delivery by the same due date.
"Typical. They assume we programmers conjure code from thin air like a wizard."
"Damn, I need more coffee." Ralph rubbed at his strained eyes. It was past two, and already he was developing a headache. The stress of delivering by the deadline had resulted in many sleepless nights, and it was taking its toll. He'd been unconsciously staring at the same screen for almost ten minutes. Why did he want this job again? The salary sure as hell didn't deliver. The company janitor probably got better pay than him!
"Better." He sipped his coffee, enjoying its bitter taste. While Ralph waited for the coffee to perk him up, he took a much-needed ten-minute break. After conversing with his cubicle neighbor, Tanya, he browsed the internet. Without realizing it, he'd opened the news.
"ONRA is up?" He cursed himself for not buying the stock as Ranjit had suggested. It had risen 17.62 percent. While a promising investment three months ago, it hadn't seemed worth the risk. He'd lost a great deal of money. Potential money, anyway.
He browsed his favorite Scabbit board, and a post caught his eye. People were entering a heated discussion about the mysterious equation, some arguing passionately about the potential of prediction algorithms. Someone posted the old adage that, with enough data, a computer could map every future possibility.
Wouldn't that be something? Not that Ralph believed such a ridiculous fantasy. Still, it was an intriguing thought experiment. Curious, he entered all of ONRA's relevant information into the mysterious equation. He blinked as he considered the results.
The equation said ONRA's prospects weren't encouraging—falling almost 40 US dollars. In the upcoming months, the stock would become almost worthless. How was that possible? Analysts argued its prospects were favorable, claiming it would rise to untold heights.
Ralph tried another company—DRAY. After bad deals and mismanagement, the company's stock had dropped to figurative pennies. Unlike ONRA, the equation promised a bright future. If Ralph invested now, he'd gain tens of thousands of dollars. He leaned back in his chair, considering.
"What the heck." While it seemed like superstitious foolishness, Ralph accepted the equation's advice. It would be an interesting experiment. After some consideration, he invested three hundred dollars into DRAY. If the endeavor failed, he wouldn't lose much sleep over it.
"Still, it should prove interesting conversation fodder." Ranjit would eat this story up.
///
"Wilson's returned from the dead?" Johan asked, incredulous.
"As an insane AI, but yes," Simensen replied.
"Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?" And he wanted to enact Ragnarök? How had his life come to this? Shitty stepfather or not, he should have stayed in Duisburg.
"Ymir must have tried to duplicate what happened to me with Wilson. In a sense, I'm basically an AI, too." Yareli thumbed her Uhyre key. "Something must have gone terribly wrong."
"No, Ilma. Unlike that thing, you're a real person," Johan said, scowling at the comparison.
"Regardless, its abilities were remarkable, even without a Rangadriver. I fear he might be unstoppable." Much to Johan's surprise, the Ophion Industries president sounded shaken—a far cry from his usual unflappable self.
"Ymir designed Surtur with the most advanced learning algorithms possible," Yareli said, considering the story. "I'll talk with Gramps. Maybe he can devise some plans to counter it."
"Or we could just ambush him." While his prediction powers were frightful, Surtur couldn't handle them all.
"If it was that easy, young man, I would have already destroyed it." Genuine anger crept into Simensen's voice.
"Easy. Don't fight." Yareli lifted a hand to placate any flaring tempers. "An ambush is an excellent idea, but we need to maximize our chances of victory. That includes gaining more allies."
Johan rolled his eyes. "You're not suggesting we recruit the Valkyries. They hate your guts! You nearly fought in a hospital with one of them!"
"Nevertheless, I'm friends with one of them. She can convince them. Surtur is a threat to everyone." Yareli paused, her body language turning pensive. "Though, ID-01 is still a wild card."
Simensen clasped his hands together. "Indeed, gather what allies you can. It used to be a computer system, correct? My sources will learn what they can about Surtur's origins."
"Rebecca's mother was involved with its creation." Yareli snapped her fingers. "I'll squeeze whatever I can from Detective Anderson about his interrogation with her."
"And a plan is taking form," Simensen said, giving a genial smile. "Keep in contact. Let's reconvene at my mansion at twenty-one hundred hours and pool our information. With Surtur still quiet, let's take advantage of this calm."
Strange. Shouldn't Surtur be running around destroying everything? Something about causing a real-life Ragnarök? Instead of relief that Surtur wasn't causing another rampage, his worry only deepened. Surtur was planning something. He knew it in his bones.
"The experiment is almost ready," an Ophion Industries scientist said, running up toward them. The disheveled man eyed the ruins of his lab with deep remorse, scowling in frustration.
"Experiment?" Yareli asked.
"Nothing you need to worry about," Simensen said. "My limitations with my Rangadriver have become painfully apparent. Since I have little time to train, I have other means to get stronger."
"Such as?" Johan said, raising an eyebrow.
Mischief glinted in Simensen's eye. "Something I plan to keep a surprise. Now, off with you. I'll keep you informed of Surtur's activities."
"Sure, if they don't end up in my spam filter," Johan said, taking some delight in annoying his former employer. They left the ruined lab to reunite with the others.
"Do we really need that slimeball's help?" Johan stretched a foot over a ruined stop sign, carefully navigating around the other debris.
"Can't say I'm thrilled, either. War makes odd bedfellows, I suppose."
Emergency personnel were still hard at work in the ruined district, trying to locate any survivors. While the fire teams had extinguished most of the fires, the acrid smell of smoke still stung Johan's sinuses. "We keep stumbling into one crisis after another. Meeting you is the only bright spot in this whole mess."
"I'd never thought my best friend would be a scumbag like you." Yareli struck a playful punch on his shoulder, attempting some levity. "Father taught me better than to associate with people like Jotnar."
"Hey, at least I'm honest that I'm trash," Johan said, taking mock offense. Then he sighed. "Seriously though, when will these battles stop?" Sure, Johan was a total badass with his boar powers, but this constant fighting wore him to the bone.
"After this Surtur mess, I doubt Ymir will survive the lawsuits and controversies. Mission accomplished in my book."
"After that?" Johan asked, curious.
"Hang with you, obviously. Not for jobs or anything, but I'd love to hang out. I'm definitely not rejoining my father's Valkyries."
"I suppose that ship has sailed." Some amusement returned to Johan, if briefly. Not that it surprised him. Yareli was a very independent person. "You're certain you won't help the Jotnar? With your skills, no job would give us much trouble."
"Positive. Besides, I have my art to consider. It's still my dream to go pro."
"Good luck." Johan wanted to comment on the unlikeliness of that possibility but decided to spare Yareli's feelings. Who knew? It might happen. After navigating a maze of debris, they returned to the hospital.
"You will not believe this!" Rebecca said, running out to meet them. "Ymir turned President Wilson into a monster!"
"I believe we can," Yareli said. "Gather everyone together. We have much to discuss."
///
"Will my proposal work, Doctor McGuire?" Simensen asked.
After conversing with Fenrir, they'd moved to a more accommodating environment. Thankfully, some lower-level administrative offices had escaped unharmed—perfect for a small conference. As usual, his bodyguard, James, watched the proceedings without comment.
"Sir, making it work isn't the issue," McGuire said, playing with his glasses. Despite his best efforts, the scientist couldn't hide his nervousness.
"It can't be helped. Besides, I'm ready." Surtur's attack had damaged several prototype weapons and armor, including a new sword for Fenrir. "It's time to unchain Jörmungandr."
"Perhaps. But 100 percent of Jörmungandr's power shouldn't be required. We installed those power limiters for a reason."
"I realize that, Doctor, but I can handle it." Before Fenrir, nobody had used a Ragnadriver safely. But Ophion Industries employed the world's most talented scientists, and they'd found a solution to the device's issues. Simensen thirsted to access the Ragnadriver's untapped potential. He'd prove he was the world's strongest Kamen Rider.
"Okay, we'll allow access to forty percent power. The twenty percent increase should be enough. It shouldn't apply too much pressure on your body."
"I want the ability to release the limiters at will." Simensen's tone brooked no argument. "In battle, it might mean life or death."
While McGuire wanted to argue against such a proposal, he remembered who signed his paycheck.
"I see your wisdom. But you will train with the enhanced suit before entering actual combat."
"Naturally. I do nothing half-baked. When we fight Surtur again, I'll be ready."
///
"After everything, Simensen wants an alliance?" Abbey said.
"I can't say I'm thrilled either," Pihu said, sipping a fruity cocktail. The outdoor bar was packed with people, many eager to drink away Bifrost's recent troubles. "Though, our usefulness is somewhat limited. Our last battle damaged most of our suits past the point of reasonable repair. Only one remains intact."
"Yeah, sorry about that," Yareli said, wincing. She stood on the sidelines, watching her friends enjoy themselves. It was torture, but Yareli couldn't alter the fact she didn't possess a stomach.
"We might have some options, but they'll need time," Pihu said, keeping her cards close to her chest. Even the usually friendly Abbey was close-lipped.
"Despite the situation, they still see us as enemies," Yareli thought. She should have guessed gaining their trust wouldn't be easy. "It's quiet for the moment. Work as quickly as you can."
"Why isn't Surtur attacking, though?" Rebecca said, agitation clear on her face. "Simensen said he's gone to ground. They're having difficulty tracking him."
"Do you think he's waiting for something?" Samuel asked, expression thoughtful. He moseyed closer to Pihu, trying to chat her up.
"Is this a private party?" a newcomer said. Everybody tensed as a young girl dressed in a fashionable gothic Lolita dress walked toward their table. The upcoming night seemed to blend into her dress, her pale features almost ghostly.
"Reine!" Abbey stood up, spilling her brandy over herself, but the Valkyrie barely noticed. Patrons gasped as they recognized the former Ymir idol.
"Reine," Johan's expression switched between being awestruck and terrified. In Reine's hand was her Rangadriver, which she played with idly.
The entire table momentarily lost its voice, a mixture of fear and anger. Tension hung thick in the air until Abbey finally spoke.
"Did you kill the president?" Abbey asked, a challenge in her voice. As usual, the straightforward Valkyrie cut to the core.
"I did," Reine replied, showing no hint of shame.
"No." Johan's breath caught, the poor guy's world crashing upon him. His lip quivered, eyes wide as saucers.
"We took you in! We trusted you!" Abbey said, getting in her former teammate's face. Despite the physical difference between the two, Reine showed no hint of fear.
"Reine, why?" Pihu's voice shook.
"I won't make any excuses for my actions." Reine paced around the taller woman before facing Yareli. "I am what I am."
"And what now?" Yareli said, gripping the table tight from her tension. "You going to attack me right here? In public, again?"
Not good. While Yareli had recovered from her previous fight, Fenrir was still weaponless. Even with Johan assisting her, Yareli still faced a considerable disadvantage—if Johan recovered from his shock, of course. He appeared like a deer caught in headlights, frozen on the spot.
"And why not?" Reine said, wearing a coy smile. "Unlike you, wolf girl, I can't track by scent. Trying to chase you down has been a royal pain."
"No." Abbey didn't wait for further provocation, throwing a punch toward her former teammate's face. Despite appearing off guard, Reine proved nimbler than expected. She slipped away from the attack, wearing an amused smirk.
The bartender signaled for the bouncers just out of sight, shouting for peace. Patrons whispered to themselves, speculating on the cause of this altercation. Camera phones pointed toward them, eager to catch what would happen next.
"I will kill you, Fenrir," Reine said as a fact, not a statement. Then she broke into uproarious laughter. "Whatever it takes, even if it means burning the world to cinders!"
This girl's insane!
By the time Reine had completed her speech, night had fully descended onto Bifrost. As Yareli prepared her own Rangadriver, a flicker of movement caught her attention. Had she just seen a pale figure slip from an alleyway? Her hackles raised, sensing something was wrong. More movement caught her attention—Yareli peered into the gloom. Something was gathering toward them, trying to surround them.
People—hundreds of them—gathered around the promenade. These creatures, whatever they were, had glowing red eyes that shone like sinister lanterns. Their torn and ragged clothes hid pale skin, the color of polished ivory. Their eyes gleamed with menace, hungry for violence and death. People screamed in terror as the monsters gathered in the hundreds, surrounding their little open bar.
"Boss!" Samuel said, his breath catching as a colossal figure came into view. While Yareli had only seen this face once, she hadn't forgotten his crumpled form under Dino's feet. Another familiar face caught Yareli's attention—Johan gasping in shock. It was Randel, Johan's late best friend.
"I've been busy expanding my powers. Quite the reunion, right?" Reine said. "Have you forgotten? I am Kamen Rider Hel, queen of the dead. You won't escape, Fenrir. Now, my servants—make the streets run with their blood!"