Chapter 1: The Funeral of a Hero, and the Birth of an Unworthy One

Rain fell without mercy.

Dark clouds hung low above the cemetery as dozens of black umbrellas gathered around a single, freshly-dug grave. The air was cold, heavy, and unbearably quiet—broken only by the sound of water striking the earth.

Crimson flowers lay upon the coffin.

Arakawa Minato’s coffin.

Saiga Noburu stood far away beneath a tree, drenched, his gray hair plastered to his forehead. He didn’t join the crowd of mourners. He couldn’t. He didn’t feel worthy.

His fists trembled as he pressed them against a stone wall.

“If only… If only I hadn’t taken that road… then Minato wouldn’t—!”

His voice cracked, swallowed by the storm.
Tears blended with rain, dripping down his cheeks, indistinguishable.

Minato… I’m so sorry…

He struck the wall again.
And again.

Still, the storm drowned everything.

From the burial site, Yumesaki Chisa—pink hair soaked, amber eyes full of grief—noticed him. Her lips parted.

“Noburu…?”

She took one step forward, but a hand stopped her.

“Chisa-chan, after this you must give the memorial speech.”

Chisa hesitated, torn between duty… and the sight of a broken man hidden under a tree.

Noburu had already turned away.

When the rain softened, the Sentai gathered beneath a monument carved with the names of past warriors. Wearing black ceremonial uniforms, they stood as one—though their hearts were shattered.

Chisa stepped onto the stage. She gripped the sides of the podium, knuckles white, breath unsteady.

Thousands watched.

She closed her eyes.

And spoke.

“I know… today is not a day for beautiful words.”

Her voice echoed through the hushed crowd.

“Today we lost someone who always stood at the very front.”

“Someone who shouted ‘forward’… even when his own legs were trembling.”

Some people cried quietly.

Noburu did not hear her voice from the cemetery anymore.
He heard it from a small television in his dim apartment—lying sideways on his bed, jacket still on, eyes hollow.

On-screen, bold letters flashed:

RED SENTAI — FALLEN IN YESTERDAY’S BATTLE

His hand clutched the bedsheet.

No tears.

Just pressure in his chest.

Enough to crush him.

Chisa continued.

“Red was not just our leader.”
“He was the reason many of us could return home with a smile.”

Her voice cracked.

“I want to cry.”
“I want to ask why it had to be him.”
“If you feel empty… that’s normal.”
“If you feel afraid… that’s human.”

The audience held their breath.

“But please… don’t give up.”

Meanwhile, Noburu slowly lifted his eyes toward the TV.

Chisa inhaled shakily.

“Someday… someone new—someone stronger than fear itself—will rise.”

Noburu’s heart twitched.

Not because he believed it.

But because, for the first time…
it almost sounded like those words were meant for him.

“And until that day comes…”

She placed her hand on her chest.

“We will keep standing.”

Thunderous applause followed.

From the crowd, Kurobane Shuu stepped forward.
His blond hair was slicked back, his expression stormy.

At first, people thought he was rising to honor the moment.

He wasn’t.

He grabbed his microphone.

“That was touching, Chisa-chan.”
“But do you really think someone like Red will appear again?”

Whispers rippled through the audience.

Chisa froze.

Some civilians muttered:

“He’s right… Red was one of a kind.”
“We can’t rely on speeches… We need protection!”

Shuu held up his Astral Core.

“If this is what it means to be a Sentai without Red…”

He crushed the core into the ground.

Gasps erupted.

“Then I, Kurobane Shuu… resign from the Sentai!”

Chaos exploded.

People shouted, panicked, horrified.

Aisaka Tsubame stepped forward next, face cold and lifeless.

“I will resign as well.”

The moment was catastrophic.
The Sentai—humanity’s shield—was falling apart.

In his small room, Noburu shut off the TV.

He walked onto the balcony, staring at the endless gray sky.

“Minato… Could I really replace you?”

Silence answered him.

To everyone’s surprise, the city looked peaceful. People smiled again. Children played. Life marched on.

For the first time since Minato’s death…
Noburu looked almost normal.

Working at the supermarket, he scanned items at the cashier.

Two kids nearby whispered:

“Do you think a new Sentai will appear?”
“I hope so… I want to feel safe again.”

Noburu exhaled softly.

Kids… don’t hope for something like that…

If only hunger and bills could be defeated by henshin.

Suddenly—

WEEEOOO—! WEEEOOO—!

The city’s monster alarm blared.

The TV in the store switched to emergency mode.

A giant, slimy creature with writhing tendrils—Mutated Seaweed—rampaged through the streets, lifting cars with its roots.

Police shot at it.

The bullets bounced off.

“That tickles! Try again, humans!”
The monster cackled.

People screamed. Cried. Ran.

All cameras turned toward the chaos.

Everyone hoped the Sentai would arrive—

But the Sentai were gone.

In the supermarket, Noburu watched while mopping the floor.

Emotionless.

Unmoving.

Until he saw him—

A small boy running toward the monster, fists clenched, trembling.

“Sentai aren’t dead! Red said to always move forward!”

The Mutated Seaweed laughed.

“Forward? Then come closer, little snack—”

It raised its tendrils to strike.

Noburu didn’t realize he was moving.

His bucket spilled behind him.

His mop clattered.

He sprinted outside—

Jumped onto his bicycle—

And pedaled harder than he ever had.

Not again… Not another one…

The monster swung its tendril downward—

And—

CRAAASH!!

Noburu’s bicycle smashed into its face.

The monster staggered backward.

The boy gasped.

“Mister! Who are you!?”

Noburu smirked.

“Just a guy who happened to pass by.”

The monster snarled.

“YOU! How dare you!?”

Noburu rolled his shoulders.

“Wow, loud and ugly. Lucky me.”

He dodged a tendril swipe with a backflip.

Not bad… my training paid off…

He reached into his pocket.

Pulled out a familiar device—

Arakawa Minato’s Astral Device.

The boy’s eyes widened.

“No way… M-Mister, are you—?”

Noburu winked.

“I go… you go… here we go.”

He pressed the activation switch.

A burst of unstable astral particles exploded outward.

“Sentai Change!”

Smoke billowed.

Light twisted.

A shadow emerged—

A suit of black armor stepped forward.

Not glossy.
Not radiant.
Not divine.

Just… heavy.
Tense.
Unstable.

A quiet, unaccepted power.

Black armor etched with dull, flickering gold lines.
A visor of dark amber.
Emblem present… but lifeless.

A form not meant to exist.

A hero not meant to rise.

Yet here he stood.

Saiga Noburu—

Sentai Unworthy Form.

He pointed at the monster.

“Alright. Let’s start counting your sins.”