[Kamen Rider Die]

KAMEN RIDER SABER EPISODE 23 - “AND SO IT RAMPAGES, THE HAND OF DESTRUCTION”



I love berserk forms.

Berserk forms are wrong, which is such an interesting way to deconstruct and challenge our assumptions about a character, a show. It’s your steadfast, empathetic hero becoming a bottomless well of animalistic rage, or nihilistic destruction. The suits are severe instead of playful. The tone is Everything Has Gotten Worse. There’s no glory in this new power-up, just fear.

It’s especially nice to have a berserk form debut at this point in the story, because it sort of accidentally proves the Sword of Logos’s alleged point? Touma had been on a hot streak, convincing wary Swordsmen to join his cause, and generally having all of his claims regarding Megid schemes to be accurate. The momentum had swung in his direction, and it seemed inevitable that we’d be left with only an anxious Rintaro and a deranged Ren to stand in the way of Touma’s ultimate victory over the forces of evil.

Until.

Until, basically, the Sword of Logos was right: Touma collects power too easily, and he doesn’t understand the consequences. He races ahead of Daishinji, he follows unknown dudes, he gets into a quarry fight with Storious that might’ve ended up killing him. Touma’s… he acts rashly, emotionally. He’s a guy that will never stop charging into a fight if he thinks it’ll help someone. But that same recklessness that all the heroes swooned over last episode becomes a critical flaw this time. He’s unlocked a power he can’t control, and it’s made him maybe a bigger threat than the Book Club or the SoL traitor combined.

Which, dark, but: PRIMITIVE DRAGON. I love it? I love it. Everything about it is awesome. I love how the normal jingles and voice-overs are dropped, so it’s just Touma’s animalistic grunting, echoed out and magnified. I love how he grips the sword wrong on his Henshin, trading precision and artistry for power and unpredictability. I love how his body language is feral, barely restrained. I love how the flames of the new helmet’s jaw become fangs. I love the giant claw, how it has Touma’s power and heroism and very identity in its terrifying grip. I love how the chest plate mimics that, to broadcast that this is the Primitive Dragon’s story now, not Touma’s. I love the way Saber’s fighting posture changes into a squat, with leaps and claw strikes and the sword swung as a random object. I love how the music isn’t sweeping, fairytale orchestral performances, but aggressive and electronic, a separation from the show’s aesthetic.

I just… I love Primitive Dragon. I love it so much.

The rest of the episode was fun and solid, even if the middle third leaned real heavy on Pay Attention You Will Be Asked About This Later stuff. (Master Logos! The unnamed assistant! Why Storious was let into the vault!) It’s intriguing, but I’m not the viewer who’s going to try and connect a variety of dots. That’s not where my passion is with these shows.

It’s with Primitive Dragon.

—

UNCORRECTED PROOFS



They’d managed to elude the Sword of Logos guards, Touma was pretty sure. He and Daishinji had infiltrated the base effectively, but then a general alarm had almost gotten them caught. Luckily, he and Daishinji had managed to duck down a side corridor – of which this base seemed to have a few hundred – and catch their breath before completing their mission.

They might only have a few minutes, and after that… well, Touma wasn’t sure what could go wrong. He might be imprisoned by the Sword of Logos. He might be killed. This might be all he had left, this time with Daishinji. He had to say something.

“Daishinji,” he said, as quietly as possible, “there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

The stoic swordsman turned from his observation of the hallway to face Touma. Daishinji whispered, “Now?” He seemed surprised, and a little concerned. Daishinji wasn’t one for casual conversation, and this was the least casual setting for a conversation that Touma could imagine. Still, this was important.

“Yeah.” Touma leaned closer to Daishinji, to try and keep their conversation from getting them found by the roaming guards.

Daishinji’s eyes darted from side to side, but eventually they came to rest on Touma’s face. “Okay, but quickly.”

“Mei showed me that story you wrote about Yuri.”

Daishinji’s eyes grew wide. “WHAT?!” Touma immediately clapped his hand over Daishinji’s mouth, and shushed him to be quiet. After a moment, Touma removed his hand, and Daishinji continued in a rushed whisper, “Wh– why? Why would she do th–”

Touma stopped him with a raised hand, and shook his head once. “I know, I know. I’d feel the exact same way. I never want someone to see my early drafts. It’s just about getting things down on paper, and yet people act like it should be random drops of perfection, just waiting to be rearranged. They don’t get it. But she’s a good editor, and I think she just wanted me to give you a hand with it.”

Daishinji’s mouth hung open. He clearly felt vulnerable, exposed. Touma needed to reassure him.

“I thought it was solid, for an early draft. There’s some really erotic imagery, and some incredibly detailed passages. There’re a few tics you’ve got that need to be addressed – you use the word ‘taut’ a lot, and I feel like there are a few synonyms like ‘rigid’ that could freshen things up – but I think there’s some real passion on the page, which is the most important thing. Definitely a lot for us to work with as we polish it up.”

Daishinji’s eyes were twitching, probably out of gratitude. “‘Us’? ‘We’?”

Touma smiled warmly. “Of course, buddy. Once we get out of here, you and I are going to pound that raw material into shape, and shine it to brilliance. Get it? Like a sword!”

“Yes,” Daishinji agreed with a curious lack of enthusiasm, “when we get out of here. Which I definitely want to do now. I want to live to do that. So badly.”