Chapter Text
For as long as she could remember, Beroba lived for misery and despair. Life in her time was so…dull. Her entire life planned out from her creation to her eventual death. The Desire Grand Prix was her escape from that reality. But she wasn’t like Ziin or the other supporters, who gladly threw their lot in with heroes who strove for personal glory, or love, or whatever lofty ideals they decided was worth risking their lives for. No, Beroba instead threw her weight behind the Jyamato - the monsters who, like her, lived only to cause misery and despair. Nothing brought Beroba more joy than seeing the fear of a rider about to lose, the pain of each strike as their wills slowly broke down. But the ultimate and rarest joy came from seeing the despair of a rider as they slowly died, their lives slipping away to give birth to more of her beloved Jyamato. But despite appearances (and what others might say), she wasn’t delusional. She knew that Jyamato victories were far and few between.
But things have changed. Archimedel, the steward of her dear Jyamato , had informed her of an intruder in their garden. “Kamen Rider Buffa.” She read his profile aloud. She remembered him, he was supposed to have died in battle with the Jyamato fortress. She scowled as she reminisced on it. He was different from the others who fell in battle. In his supposed final moments, he didn’t beg for mercy, no prayers were made, no tears shed. He wasted his final breaths inspiring his rival to take up his sword. Now not only was she robbed of his despair, but she was robbed of his death too. This interloper was in her eden, destroying her darlings. Her opinion quickly changed however, when Archimedel revealed the state in which he found the interloper.
“He had this on his belt.” He said, handing her one of the Jyamato buckles, the gardener’s latest masterpiece. A weapon to let her precious monsters fight on equal footing with the riders she hated so much. It was a twisted imitation of the powers given to the competitors of the DGP. A true raise buckle was purely a tool, it was inanimate, a set of armour to be donned in battle. A Jyamato buckle was a living organism, it was invasive, it wormed its way inside, physically changing the user. “Seems he used it to kill my children.” The gardener smiled bitterly, preparing to plant Buffa’s cracked ID core. “Madness like his, it should sprout a beautiful mutant.”
Today would be one of the few times she pulled rank over Archimedel, using her power as a sponsor to request Buffa’s ID core for herself. Seeing Buffa with her own eyes was different from watching him on a screen. When he fought in the games he was relentless, tearing through the hordes with reckless abandon and ferocity. His bloodlust combined with his favoured buckle, Zombie, gave her the impression of a demon, clawing a path towards his goals. She had thought this behaviour to be simple determination, a base desire to see his dreams realised. But now that she’d spoken to him, she saw how wrong he was. He pretended to be indifferent, acting as if his current situation was but a minor nuisance. But Beroba had learned a great many things in her long drawn out existence, one of them being how to gauge someone’s emotions. And this man was filled to bursting with anger. She could see it so clearly now, looking into his eyes. His heart burned with a hatred so pure and destructive it threatened to break out into a wildfire, consuming everything in its path.
She rubbed her thumb along the spreading infection on his hand, the transformation started quickly it seemed. “Hey, your dream is to crush every rider right?” She asked, grinning down at the man before her. She saw his true worth now. Fate had delivered her a perfect monster, one who dreamed only of hurting others. “Why don’t you fight for me?” She offered, extending the Jyamato buckle towards him. She finally understood how the other supporters felt, finally she’d met someone that matched her ideals, someone that could be
her
champion. She’ll never forget the cold smile he gave as he reached out and accepted the buckle.