FANFICTION IDEA: A Jackal's Plans (A Sailor Moon/Kamen Rider x-over)

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Disclaimer: Don't own Sailor Moon or Kamen Rider. They belong to their respective owners.

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A hint of irritation irked itself up as he rested his jaw on the metal knuckles of his fist. His large green eyes were greeted with darkness. It was nothing new to him. He floated in these confines, in this prison, left wondering of the universe outside of this place.

Any thoughts he had were confronted by the same old darkness that had plagued him for... for... how long had he been trapped? Centuries? Millennia? He had lost count. Time had no meaning inside this accursed prison, so he did not bother. No time, no light could enter this place.

And so he would do as he had done many times before: think, plan, and wait. He would gather his strength from time to time, consuming the distraught from the past centuries - from all the wars, plagues, famines, and deaths. Still, it not enough. The cults he made, they minds he affected could not penetrate this prison with their primitive rituals, let alone break him free.

If he was a normal human, he would have sighed, but he did not, and just turned instead. A thin veil cracked open and flooded the tiniest streams of light into the dark void. Even in this place, he managed to have a window to the world beyond, even if that window was a small pane that opened and closed every now and then.

Nonetheless, it was enough and he stared through it. He saw many things; people living their lives blissfully unaware of the cosmos beyond their insignificant planet, so-called treaties and bargains between leaders that suited their own interests, and the disgusting acts of "heroism" of the people. Seeing such things became so mundane that he barely gave any of them more than a glance, and he would have.

But then, he saw it. It was such a clear picture it could have been framed and hung on a wall. Lying under a street light was a body lying still on the ground. It looked so frail and possibly decayed.

Even more interesting was the young boy next to it, eyes widened and cheeks wet with tears. Glass-like shards, devoid of any color that had once been there, rested in the boy's fleshy hands. They reeked of an aura of purity from a heart crystal.

The pieces quickly fell into place. The boy and his father... how interesting.

This caught his attention as he peered at the boy and felt the obvious waves of sorrow and the planted seed of hatred inside. Of course, there were others who have lost people. Millions, in war-torn countries and elsewhere. Their suffering fed him, but this one... oh, this one would have an interesting future.

'Yes, he will do nicely...' the thought, so deep and drawn out, crawled in the dark void of his prison.

So, he began to make plans. He would plant the seeds. Eventually, that boy would become the catalyst for his return. Of course, it would take years before his plans could come to fruition, but that mattered little.

After all, he had plenty of time to spare.

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Six months later...

The loud roar of a motorbike echoed down the streets of Tokyo's Juuban District. Sunlight gleamed off the sleek golden paint job, as well as the dark helmet of the one riding the bike. The rider atop the bike twisted the black handles, revving up the engines to go faster. The wheels spun on the road, passing by driving cars as the bike went around a few of them.

"Hey, watch it!" one driver shouted as the golden bike cut him off.

"Sorry!" the bike's rider shouted over his shoulder before he continued on his path.

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