Cataclysm

 

By Zack Mendorra

 

Edenoi

 

The agonized telepathic screams ripped through him, wrenching him from sleep with an almost physical force. Prince Dex lurched up in bed as sharp psychosomatic pains raced across his body; as he swiftly rolled to his feet, he realized that the pained shrieks were both inside and outside his mind, echoing in the halls.

 

Something terrible is happening, Dex realized as he raced out of his chambers. As a child, he had seen firsthand the atrocities committed by his mad uncle Dregon. His parents had died before his very eyes, his people had been enslaved and tortured. At the time, he had been helpless. But then he grew into a man, and was entrusted with the power of the Masked Rider. He became a symbol of hope, a hero, and had single-handedly beaten back the Count’s mercenaries, standing alone against Dregon’s forces both here and on Earth. He had never been helpless again.

 

Until now.

 

Zarius lay dead in the hall, her back viciously torn open. One hand was outstretched to his door; she had reached for him in her last moment of life. Dex stared at the corpse numbly, eyes wide in horror; but there was no time to register the fact that the woman he’d loved in secret for so long was gone. The screams had come to an abrupt stop, and the halls of Lexian’s palace were now deathly silent.

 

Grandfather! the young Edenite called, receiving no response from the aged king. Dex’s heart was pounding in his chest as he raced across the upper floor towards the staircase that led to Lexian’s bedchambers. Farian was sprawled at the foot of the stairs, jade blood pooled around his twisted corpse. The Masked Rider forced himself to look away as a shudder racked his body; were they all dead? Who could have done this?

 

He took the stairs three at a time, silently summoning the power of the Masked Rider. He was ready to confront whoever was responsible for this massacre. As the champion of Edenoi reached the top of the stairs, he was presented with a sight that nearly sent him flying backwards: Donais – his oldest, most trusted friend – had been pinned to Lexian’s door by a sword thrust through his stomach. The warrior’s feet dangled inches above the floor, and his head was bowed. This was not a death fitting a man of Donais’ stature. This was butchery, sadistic and cruel.

 

There was no point in calling out to Lexian again. If Donais had fallen, what hope could there be for the frail old man? Nonetheless Dex slipped past the body into the king’s chamber. Lexian had ever been a modest ruler, refusing the opulence that came with such a position. The Earthlings would have called his furnishings Spartan, as they only included the barest necessities. A bed no larger than any Resistance warrior, a wooden desk and high-backed chair on the other side of the room… and just behind that desk, Dex saw the edge of a white robe, Lexian’s garment.

 

“G-grandfather?” Dex stammered, trying to keep the quaver out of his voice. The practical side of him reasoned that Lexian was surely dead, but the Masked Rider could not, WOULD NOT, accept that. Surely he had fainted, and escaped the killer’s notice.

 

The old man’s head had been severed at the neck and lay a few feet away. His long white hair obscured his face, which was probably a blessing. Dex reached a trembling hand to the motionless body, but before he could touch it something slammed into him from behind, propelling him into the wall. In a moment of delirium, Dex believed this was all a joke and Donais had pushed him, to startle him.

 

But the deep, raspy breaths did not belong to Donais. Dex whirled around to face the murderer and felt a pang of revulsion. Over the years he had faced many of Dregon’s monstrosities, but none so foul in appearance as this beast. It was clad in thick silver armor, marred by splotches of green blood and ash. Only its mutilated face was unshielded, though all Dex could discern were empty eye sockets and gleaming sharp teeth.

 

And it was smiling.

 

The fear in him quickly gave way to anger, and the Masked Rider charged forward, fists flying. But the demon was surprisingly agile, blocking and dodging effortlessly. Then it slammed a plated fist into Dex’s chest, sending him hurtling to the floor. He felt the blow even through his armor.

 

What is this thing?

It didn’t matter. A cold fury enveloped the Edenite’s body, focusing his mind and body in a calm chill. Such a heavily-armored monster would only be vulnerable on its back; all he had to do was knock it down. With that in mind, Dex stepped forward, allowing the creature to swing at him. He ducked under the blow and kicked out at his enemy’s extended arm; it stumbled forward, and the Masked Rider followed up by dropping to the floor and sweeping a leg out.

 

But the beast seemed to recognize that Dex had seen its weakness, and leapt up to avoid the blow. As it landed, it grabbed Dex by the throat and hauled him up before bashing his head into the stone again and again. The world swam around the Edenite, but he had the presence of mind to sharply drive an elbow into his foe’s face, allowing him to put some distance between them.

 

Time to end this, Dex thought to himself. Silently summoning his Electrosaber, Dex ran straight towards the demon and leapt upwards, planting a foot in its midsection. Using the leverage, the Masked Rider hurled himself higher and came down with a hard stab, neatly jamming the energy saber in the center of the monster’s chest.

 

It staggered backwards, gazing down at the hilt jutting from its breastplate with what Dex imagined was shock. The Masked Rider waited for the assassin to fall. Instead, its smile widened as it wrapped its fingers around the handle. As the Edenite watched in disbelief, the creature drew the energy sword out of its body and discarded it. From deep within its massive form, a guttural laugh sounded.

 

Then it was upon him. The blows fell like hammers; every time Dex blocked he felt the impact shake his entire body. But this monster had killed his grandfather and his friends. He would not submit to it. It came for him again, and Dex let loose with a series of rapid punches to its midsection. They were moving backwards out of the chamber; as the Prince passed Donais’ body, he felt the rage rise up in him again. Bracing his legs, the Masked Rider rammed his entire body into the demon, sending it toppling down the staircase, landing in an unceremonious heap near Farian’s corpse.

 

“RIDER KICK!” Dex howled, aiming a dropkick at the recovering demon. His feet blazed with green energy as they struck home, and the creature howled in agony as it was thrown through a near wall. Debris rained down upon the prone demon, burying it in a mound of rock and steel.

 

With an exhausted gasp, Dex dropped to his knees, trying to catch his breath. The king had been avenged.

 

Oh Gods, Grandfather, you’re really gone…

 

He hadn’t allowed himself to process that fact. But now the battle was over, and Dex finally realized it mattered little that the assassin was dead. It was too late. Their world had only just thrown off the yoke of Dregon’s tyranny; now they would face a future bereft of their king’s great wisdom.

 

Dex was so absorbed in his thoughts as he turned away that he never noticed the mound of rubble slowly pulsing and swelling… as if something was burrowing its way out from beneath.

 

*   *   *

 

Hercuron

 

The Phantom Ranger fell lifeless to the ground, sparks flying from his damaged armor. The natives – a primitive race in their stone age – wailed in dismay as the bronze abomination struck their champion down. And yet no one, not even the tribe’s great warriors, dared to intervene. The beast was gwa’huuri, walking dead: a cold mist surrounded its skeletal form, and its face was bone, with evil light in its hollow eyes. The creature knelt over the fallen Ranger’s body and held a hand over its chest; immediately a bright light seemed to flow out of the black armor and into the creature’s palms. The Hercura tore at their clothes and bowed their heads in despair; but when the bravest tribesman dared to raise his eyes from the ground, only the body of their dead hero remained.

 

*   *   *

 

Sol System: 862,000,000 miles from Earth

 

She’d never seen anything so beautiful.

 

Saturn loomed before her, big and bright and breathtaking. She’d gone to the ends of the universe, into other dimensions, but always the alien landscapes were ugly and deserted. To think that such exotic beauty had existed in her own solar system…

 

A hand flashed out of the darkness and slapped her sharply across the cheek. Nails caught on her skin, drawing blood; Kimberly Hart’s head snapped to one side and the vision of Saturn vanished, replaced – for better or worse – by reality. In which she hung from the ceiling by her wrists, toes barely scraping the floor. She found herself preferring the hallucination.

 

The chamber she’d been taken to was spacious and well-lit, though she couldn’t discern any source of illumination. The wall nearest to her had been carved into shelves stacked with books and scrolls, candles and paraphernalia she guessed were magical in nature. Opposite her was a vast armory: knives, staves, axes, swords and throwing stars, and weapons she had never seen before.

 

A single altar stood between these two worlds, ebony marble spiraling up from the floor to form a three-fingered claw greedily clutching a large round orb of glass or crystal. It was filled nearly to the brim by a black liquid that moved and writhed as one of her captors stroked it. From the way she was randomly announcing reports from all over the galaxy, Kimberly guessed the young-looking girl was some kind of oracle. Her appearance bore a slight resemblance to Katherine, Kimberly’s successor as Pink Ranger: tall, pale, elegant features and flaxen blond hair woven into a single braid that fell over her left shoulder. She was wearing a black gown embroidered with silver runes that covered most of her body; a gleaming sash hugged her waist and metal gauntlets covered her forearms. A hood framed in silver was drawn over her head, but it didn’t mask her face: long neck, full dark lips, a perfectly-shaped nose and eyebrows… but that was where the normality of her appearance ceased. Her forehead was branded with a crimson eye, and a piece of cloth had been wound around her eyes. Based on the fact that she rarely moved from the altar unless the demons escorted her, Kimberly guessed the Seer was blind.

 

Then there was her interrogator, the woman who had struck her moments before. Her appearance was a diametric opposite to the Seer: chocolate skin, a mane of wild black curls and, unlike her companion, she was almost naked, clad in animal pelts that just barely concealed her breasts and crotch. Her legs were bare except for a few strips of cloth tied around each shapely thigh; Kimberly noticed a network of black lines snaking up from her legs to her chest and upper arms. A dozen bracelets dangled on the woman’s wrists, and her ruby eyes burned with malice. In a word, she could be described as primal. Almost savage.

 

 “I trust I have your attention?” the Sorceress asked in a soft, unidentifiable accent. “A typical prisoner would have been tortured to within an inch of their life by now. Your friend is proof enough of that.”

 

Billy. She had only had a few seconds to examine him before the demons came in and hauled her off, but he’d looked to be in very bad shape. And this woman was taking pride in that.

 

“He’s been most helpful in certain regards, which is why I don’t plan to expend too much energy questioning you.” Again she smiled and snapped her fingers; a wooden chair nearby slid towards her, moved by an invisible force. The woman slid into her seat and placed her hands on her knee, locking her ruby gaze on the battered former Ranger.

 

“I am Xanthe, Sorceress of the Triad.” she began. “Welcome to Kul Tirath, Kimberly Hart, first Terran to serve as Pink Ranger under Zordon of Eltar.” The lips twitched into a cruel smirk. “Or should I say, the late Zordon of Eltar.”

 

A wave of cold horror washed over Kimberly. Zordon? Zordon’s dead? No. She was lying. She had to be. No one could get to Zordon; the most Rita and Zedd had ever managed was cutting him off from the Rangers. If they’d had the power to do more, they would have.

 

Her reaction seemed to please Xanthe. “Slain by his own Red Ranger, I understand. So tragic. But I digress. There are certain things I wish to know about your tenure as a Ranger, and your battle against Rita Repulsa.”
 

Zordon. Kimberly pursed her lips. The Sorceress noticed this and slowly rose. “You will gain nothing by resisting.” she warned, as though speaking to a child. “Our Balar are scouring the Earth for the rest of your friends. Those who are expendable are already dead. Those who may be of use to us will be brought here. I doubt they all have your capacity to endure pain... in fact, they will suffer from the beginning, and I will make it last an eternity until I have my answers. Spare them and yourself that agony, and speak.”

 

Dead? Expendable? Who? How?! Her mind whirled in shock and horror. The Sorceress couldn’t possibly be telling the truth; she was just their second prisoner, and the only reason they’d snatched Billy was because he’d been on another planet. But the Rangers – Kat, Tommy, Adam, Tanya and Rocky (or Justin if he’d kept the Blue Ranger powers, though she didn’t think that was likely; he’d only been twelve during that whole Muiranthias thing) – would figure out what was going on. They would’ve gotten the others to safety in seconds.

 

Still she said nothing, but whatever agitation the Sorceress had shown a moment before was gone now, replaced by smug certainty. “Your friend was quite accurate in assessing your strengths. Fortunately, he was equally as thorough in describing your weaknesses. Not that he had any choice in the matter.” She nodded to someone behind Kimberly, and another woman entered her field of vision from behind. This was obviously the warrior: everything about her gave the impression that she was always ready for combat, from the leather boots to the armor, from the shoulder plates to her close-cropped brown hair.

 

She was dragging something towards them: Kimberly saw the outline of feet. Then her heart dropped to her stomach as the warrior woman pulled her prey into the light. It was Jason Lee Scott. Once her leader, the Red Ranger. And her best friend still. He was semi-conscious and bruised, but not in as bad a condition as Billy. Like her, he wasn’t exactly dressed for the occasion; his torn gi jacket and training pants were an indication that he too had been ambushed.

 

“Thank you, Vorpax.” the Sorceress nodded. The Warrior – Vorpax – just grunted as she grabbed Jason by the arms and yanked him up. Chains descended from the ceiling and ensnared Jason’s wrists, pulling him upright. Then Xanthe turned to Kimberly, giving her an expectant look.

 

But the ex-Pink Ranger knew that, had their positions been reversed, Jason would never betray Zordon’s secrets. No matter the cost.

 

After waiting a few seconds, the Sorceress let out a tired sigh and nodded to the short-haired woman. Vorpax’s eyes seemed to glint with delight as she pulled his jacket open and drew a three-pronged sai from her belt. For a moment she twirled the hilt around her fingers, savoring the moment; then she slashed the blade across Jason’s chest. The former Red Ranger grimaced, unable to muster the presence of mind to scream as blood dripped from the wound. The Warrior laughed, and thrust the blade into his right shoulder, neatly piercing it. This time he did scream.

 

“Stop!” Kimberly shrieked, straining against her manacles. Xanthe was upon her in an instant, grabbing her by the jaw.

 

“You understand now?” she hissed. “I know everything about you, Terran. Your compassion is your weakness. You can withstand pain, but you can’t bear to watch your friends suffer.”

 

“Kim…” Jason murmured weakly. “Don’t…”

 

She had lost. And she knew it. Head downcast, Kimberly muttered: “What do you want to know?”

 

The Sorceress smiled triumphantly and motioned for Vorpax to step away from the former Red Ranger. “There were five of you in the beginning, yes?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And then another came. A rogue, in the service of Rita Repulsa.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“His name?”

 

His name. A name she hadn’t spoken for so long. “Tommy Oliver.” she whispered, and remembered him as she’d last seen him: leader of the Turbo Rangers. Older, wiser and stronger, and he’d crossed the seas and fought a legion of Piranhatrons to save her. And part of her desperately wanted to call out his name now, so he would come riding to the rescue again. But she was tired of playing the damsel in distress. Her knight in red armor wasn’t going to save her; she’d have to save herself. And that meant surviving this, and making sure Jason survived too. For now, she’d have to play along.

 

“Where is he now?” Xanthe asked.

”I don’t know.” she replied dully. “I haven’t seen him in years.” That much was true; she hadn’t really stayed in contact with anyone from Angel Grove since returning to Florida. The only thing she was sure of was that he was still alive; someone would have contacted her if it were otherwise.

 

“You all drew your power from coins? Engraved with the symbol of a token animal?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“The Green Ranger as well?” When Kimberly nodded, Xanthe leaned in as though her next question was of the utmost importance. “What was the symbol of the Green Coin?”

 

Kimberly thought back; she could still remember hunching over the palm-sized piece of metal, trying to will it to give Tommy more power. “A dragon’s claw.”

 

Those words had a profound effect on the Triad. The Sorceress’ face lit up with genuine glee. The Seer clapped her hands and bounced up and down. And Vorpax lunged forward and grabbed Kimberly by the throat, squeezing as she hauled the former Pink Ranger higher.

 

“Where is it?!” the Warrior screamed, her eyes burning with a fanatic fire. “Where?!”

 

Kimberly gasped for breath, but the Warrior’s grip was like iron. Ironically, her tormentor was the one to save her, as Xanthe pulled Vorpax away and interjected herself between the two.

 

“I apologize for my companion’s zeal.” the Sorceress said, still glaring at the taller woman. Then she turned back to Kimberly, and to the gymnast’s surprise, there was now a dreamy, almost pleasant look on the Sorceress’ face. “Tell me about this Ranger. He had… unusual abilities?”

The former Pink Ranger looked across the room at Jason. The gash on his chest was still bleeding. “I’m not telling you anything more until you let him go.”

To her surprise, the Sorceress nodded in compliance. She whispered a single word and waved her hand dismissively, and Jason vanished in a burst of sparks.

 

“To the holding cell with his other friend.” she explained. “Now, the Green Ranger’s powers.”

 

The memories came to her all too easily. “He had a chestplate that deflected energy bolts. He could control his Zord through his dagger…”

 

The Seer began to sway from side to side, humming a song loud enough for Kimberly to hear. Her blood grew cold as she recognized it: it was the same song Tommy had always used to summon the DragonZord. But how could she know that?

 

Xanthe was nodding and rubbing her hands. “Yes, yes, of course… tell me more. Surely this Ranger’s strength grew with time. Could he fly? Summon fire and lightning? Perhaps he held some thrall over the weak-minded?”

 

The thought of Tommy doing any of those things was enough to make her laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding. He could barely stand at the end.”

She might as well have splashed a bucket of ice water in the Sorceress’ face. “End? What do you mean? What became of him?”

 

“Rita used some kind of magic candle to drain the Coin’s power.”

 

Xanthe’s lips thinned into a hard line. “I thought I made my position on deception obvious by now, Terran.”

“I’m telling you the truth.” Kimberly retorted. “The Coin was totally useless. We tried to restore it, but…” Her voice caught in her throat. She was treading dangerous ground here; she couldn’t give away all of the Rangers’ secrets, just enough to keep her and her friends alive.

 

The Sorceress considered Kimberly’s words carefully. “Where is the Coin now?” she asked.

 

 “I don’t know.”

 

Growling in an unknown language, the dark-skinned woman stepped away. Two enormous shapes rose out of the shadows, grabbing the chains above her head and yanking them out of the wall.

 

“Take her away.” Xanthe instructed. The rush of blood to Kimberly’s head kept her dizzy as one of the creatures slung her across its shoulder and carried her out of the chamber.

 

*   *   *

 

The Warrior snorted. “She’s lying. No simple witch could have unlocked the Dragon Coin’s power, let alone unmake it.”

 

The Sorceress didn’t seem convinced of that. The prisoner they’d taken on Aquitar had made the same claims... “Eressea?” she called.

 

Hearing her name, the Seer turned her head in Xanthe’s direction. “There is some confusion among the Balar sent to Earth.” she said in a slightly detached voice. “Not all of Zordon’s chosen are accounted for.”

 

That news hardly interested the Sorceress at this point. “Yes, but what of the Coin? Was the girl telling the truth?”

 

Eressea shrugged. “It is too soon. I see nothing concerning our prize.” Suddenly she stiffened. “There is another. One we were not informed of.”

 

“Another Ranger?” Vorpax asked. Eressea nodded and waved her hand over the Obsidian Eye; the liquid within formed an image of a young face, a boy.

 

The Warrior drew her favored weapons – the Katar claws forged for her by the Master – and slid them onto her hands. “I’ll retrieve him.” she volunteered.

 

The Sorceress shook her head. “No. We can’t afford to be separated yet, not when the risk of retaliation is still so high. Eressea, divert one of the Balar. Have that boy brought to us immediately. He may be the key to this little mystery.”

 

*   *   *

 

Angel Grove, California

 

It was like they had never been apart.

 

Sure, there’d been an awkward silence when the four Earth-born Space Rangers were reunited after a year of living apart. They’d stood there in the Megaship hall, facing each other and marveling at how much they’d all changed, at least on the outside; T.J. had grown a goatee and sported at least twice as much muscle mass as he had in his prime, Carlos’ hair was shorter and spiked, Cassie was wearing a custom-made pink leather jacket and diamond earrings, and Ashley… well, everyone could tell that she’d been through a lot.

 

T.J. was the first to break the ice, shooting Cassie a wide smile. “So, Cass… I heard your album topped the charts last week. Congrats.”

 

She grinned back. “Thanks. I mostly owe it to that second single… I think that was the one that convinced everyone I was serious.” T.J. blushed a bit; the track in question had been titled Blue Man, and it was pretty obvious who she’d written it about. There had been a song in that album for each of them:  a little Latin number dedicated to Carlos, a high-energy pop song for Ashley and a somber ballad about loyalty and starting a new life that was obviously meant for Andros. But Blue Man had been different. Cassie had put her heart and soul into that song, a testament to her companion and best friend. And it had silenced any critics who claimed she was using her fame to cover up for lack of talent.

 

“I think we need a little atmosphere.” the pink-clad girl grinned. “Hey, DECA! Play one of my songs!” she called.

 

The computer replied immediately. “Working… it is good to hear you again, Cassie.”

 

A drumbeat sounded out and Cassie let out a whoop as she leapt onto the table, using a fork as a makeshift microphone.

 

I’m changing over into another

 Face to confuse you

 I’m gonna trick you, tease and taunt you

You might understand real soon…”

The other Rangers started laughing, recalling Divatox’s use of the “Song of Confusion” to disorient the Rangers. But Cassie had taken the tune and turned it around, made it something worth listening to.

 

Confusion, confusion, confusion…”

 

Leaning down, Cassie grabbed Ashley’s arm. The surprised girl let out a yelp as she was hauled onto the table. “Come on, Ash!” the Asian girl crowed. “Shake it!”

 

The Yellow Ranger hesitated for only a moment. But the ice in her eyes was thawing, just being here with her friends, and she started dancing to the beat, singing along with her teammate.

 

My world is full of chaos and clutter

 Your own thoughts will deceive you

My mind is crazy, messed-up and hazy

You never know what I’ll do…”

 

The girls started hopping up and down as Carlos and T.J. laughed, clapping their hands and whistling. As the song faded to a close, Ashley smiled for the first time, like a ray of sunlight penetrating the gloom. The fear of their bond having eroded over time was forgotten.

 

“I’m gonna go see what’s taking everyone.” Ashley announced as she headed for the door. It slid open before she reached the threshold; and the Yellow Ranger froze in her tracks.

 

Andros, their once and future leader, was standing in the doorway, deep purple bruises marring the left side of his face and neck. He seemed as surprised to see Ashley as she was to see him; but his gaze immediately hardened into a glare as Ashley herself went deathly pale, shadows once again darkening her face.

 

The Kerovan was first to move away, brushing past her with a visible effort to face his former comrades. “Fun’s over.” he announced, his voice thick with repressed pain. The music was silenced as he reached under the table (wincing with pain as he did so) and pulled out a metal container. “This isn’t a reunion, it’s a call to arms.” And with that he set the container down in front of the four Earthlings and opened it.

 

Their morphers lay inside. Pink, Black, Blue and Yellow, untouched since the Countdown. As if enthralled, each of the Rangers picked up their old morphing tools, running their fingers over the devices as fond (and not-so-fond) memories played out before their eyes. This was the point of no return, the very last moment they could refuse and return to their own lives.

 

One by one, they strapped their morphers onto their right wrists.

 

“Power Rangers.” Carlos breathed.

 

“We’re back.” T.J. added with a smile.

 

Andros had not forgotten the grim situation; but with the five of them standing there together again, at that moment, he felt they could take on anything and win.

 

*   *   *

 

Karone was waiting for them in the hangar bay when they came in. The Kerovan girl was crouched over the corpse of the demon that had followed Zedd and his companions to Earth; the former tyrant was there as well, standing behind Karone and grimly staring at the carcass. The four Rangers immediately tensed as they took in the mammoth proportions of the body.

 

“Madre de Dios…” Carlos whispered. “What is that?”

 

Karone shrugged as she ran a handheld scanner over the beast’s massive chest. “Nothing I’ve seen before, and I thought I knew every demonic species in the galaxy. The base DNA pattern seems familiar, but it’s undergone heavy mutation… I can’t make heads or tails of it.”

 

Zedd folded his arms. “I can. It’s Eltarian. Or rather, it was Eltarian.”

 

Shocked silence followed as everyone turned to stare at him in unmasked surprise. “That’s… that’s not possible.” Karone gasped. “The skeletal structure is completely different. And last I checked, Eltarians didn’t bleed fire.”

 

The Khanduri shrugged indifferently. “It is what it is. But once this thing was as human as you or I.”

T.J. shot Karone and Zedd a worried glance. “What could change a person into something like this?” he asked.

 

No answer came from Zedd; but the Blue Ranger had a feeling he just might find out soon enough.

 

*   *   *

 

Rita leaned over the screen, her furrowed brow a sign of troubled thoughts. “Is this it?”

 

Alpha Six nodded. “Dimitria sent Zordon status reports on all his Rangers, past and present, on a weekly basis. The last one was transmitted 72 hours before…” The robot paused and glanced over at Divatria, who lowered her eyes slightly. “After that we didn’t have the resources to keep track of them all.”
 

The disowned daughter of Vile sighed. “It’s been two years. Anything could have happened in that time. But at least it gives us a starting point.” She noticed one of the names had a red bar across it: William Cranston. “What’s this?” she pointed to the crimson mark.

 

“Communications to and from Aquitar have been disrupted since the invasion began.” Alpha explained. “Even if we could verify his location, we couldn’t contact him.”
 

That wasn’t good news; Rita remembered how great an asset Billy’s intelligence had been to the Rangers, how often he had vexed her and foiled her plans. But Zedd had insisted that their priority at the moment was to round up any Rangers still accessible. And Rita had to believe that Billy had a better chance of escaping capture or death on Aquitar, where he was just another offworlder.

 

“DECA, give a map of Earth.” Rita commanded. “And highlight the last known locations of all former Rangers.” The computer obeyed, displaying a square map of Earth on the main viewscreen. White dots lit up all over the map, mostly concentrated in the North American continent.

 

“Now show me every hostile teleportation to the planet surface since this morning.”

 

A series of red dots followed, and Rita felt a pang of despair. The demons had struck with near-pinpoint accuracy, and most (if not all) of the Rangers had been tagged. Of course, her own words came back to reassure her: time had passed, and the demons couldn’t know any more about their prey than she did. It was entirely possible that they had all moved on since Dimitria’s last report.

 

But that still left her and the Space Rangers at square one.

 

“Looks like we’ll have to do a full sweep.” she decided. “But it’ll take hours for the Rangers to fly across the country and get everyone here. It’d be so much easier if we could just teleport them.”

“But Kerovans don’t use that kind of technology.” Divatria pointed out, breaking her silence. “And the only place on Earth that might have the right hardware was destroyed.”


Alpha froze for a moment, then made the mechanical equivalent of clearing his throat. “Well… that’s not exactly true.”

*   *   *

 

It was clearly the last place any of the former Turbo Rangers wanted to be, at the site of their greatest failure, the defeat that still haunted them after all this time. Rita heard Carlos whisper a muttered prayer as he sidestepped a chunk of masonry. This had been their home, their sanctuary, entrusted to them by their predecessors. And they had allowed a ravenous horde of Piranhatrons to breach the walls and bring the Command Center to utter ruin.

 

Rita had only seen such devastation once before, when her late brother Rito and the Titan Goldar had planted an implosion device within the fortress’ deepest chambers. Then, Zordon had still been alive and his magic had woven the demolished building back together in minutes. But no such power had saved this place a second time.

 

Alpha showed no emotion as he led the group towards the mountain peak. Black scorch marks still scarred the rock surface, a silent testament to the great battle that had been fought here. Rita wondered what the robot was feeling, if indeed it was programmed to feel. Surely, it could not be easy for him to return to this place, now that Zordon and Dimitria and his predecessor Alpha Five were all gone. But if there was any discomfort, it originated solely from those who had given every ounce of their strength to defend this place, and learned it wasn’t enough.

 

As they neared the ruins, Alpha suddenly paused at the mouth of a dark shaft leading down into the mountain. “This way.” he announced with as little ceremony as possible as he took a step and plummeted into the hole. Rita peered over the edge and found that the floor was only a few feet down; with a deep breath she jumped in after him, followed by Andros, Zhane and Carlos. The others were back at the Megaship, searching for more information on the former Rangers.

 

The tunnel they’d landed in was pitch-black, but Alpha’s breastplate flared with yellow light and dispersed the darkness. They were in a long metal corridor, and a dim grey light shone in the distance. As they walked towards it, Alpha explained: “Zordon had this underground base prepared in case the main building was ever compromised. When Goldar and Rito destroyed the Command Center, all operations were transferred to this station, which was called the Power Chamber. The Zeo Rangers used it for most of their tenure until the upper Center was running again.” There was an uncharacteristic hint of bitterness in Alpha’s voice. “We shouldn’t have bothered… it didn’t last more than two years.”
 

They reached the end of the hallway and stepped into a cavernous chamber, full of inactive machinery. The illumination was coming from a static-filled viewscreen on the far wall. Most of the consoles had exploded from the inside, but the fires had died out long ago. The air was stale and acrid; it was all the Rangers could do to keep from coughing uncontrollably. All in all, this place was in total shambles.

 

Alpha looked from one end of the room to another and shook his head sadly. “I didn’t expect the damage to be so extensive down here… the Zeo Crystal was the main power source, but it was shattered in the explosion. I guess none of the backup generators made it either.”

 

The Red Ranger’s eyes narrowed in deep thought. “We could get some of the computer systems back online by leeching power from the Mega-Accelerator.”

 

The robot concurred. “Power ain’t the problem. Even if you get the hardware running, you’ll need new software if you want it to do more than just sit around and look pretty. I’m thinkin’ remote access, we leave the machine here and have DECA run it from the Megaship.”

 

Andros activated his communicator. “Zhane?”

The Silver Ranger’s voice came in after a moment. “What’s up?”

 

“Have DECA start working on a systems interface. We’re going to bypass the central computer here and transfer full control to the Megaship.

 

“Understood.” After a pause, Zhane added: “DECA says it’ll take a while, she’s downloading the specs off an Eltarian database. ETA is two hours.”

Rita bit her lip. “That might not be good enough. Is there any way to speed it up?”

 

Andros glared at her, and said: “Forget that, Zhane. She’s got her two hours, make sure it counts.” After shutting off the communicator, he turned back to Rita. “I’m tired of all this mystery.” he said. “I want to know what’s going on.”

 

She shrugged. “I don’t have the details, Zedd does. And he won’t share them until the former Rangers are accounted for. The sooner we get them, the sooner we find out what’s happening out there.”

*   *   *

 

Sol System: 450,000,000 miles from Earth

 

Billy had finally drifted off, and Kimberly moved away from him to where Jason lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling in frustration. He’d looked for any possible escape route, and found none. She wasn’t sure whether or not to disturb him, but the silence was too much; finally she dropped down next to him and put a hand on his chest.

 

“Jason?” Her voice sounded so frail, so weak. She hated herself for it. But he looked into her eyes and she could feel his strength flowing into her, just like old times. She had always drawn courage from him, and knew he wouldn’t fail her now.

 

There were so many things she wanted to say; they hadn’t seen each other since Muiranthias. But one burning question arose above all others, a dark thought that couldn’t be ignored.

 

“Zordon’s dead.” she whispered. “At least, that’s what they said, I don’t know if it’s true. But… they said a Red Ranger did it. You don’t think…”

His hand closed over hers, and he shook his head. “No. Tommy isn’t a Ranger anymore, Kim. He retired.”

 

Her eyes widened; she honestly wasn’t expecting that response. “What? When?”

 

“A couple of years ago. The whole team was replaced.”

 

At first she was angry that no one told her. But then, she hadn’t wanted to know. She’d put that life behind her, forgetting the last thing Zordon ever said to her: When you return to us, it will be as a wiser and stronger Pink Ranger. Not “if”, “when”. He’d been so sure she would come back. But living a normal life again reminded her of how much she’d missed just being Kimberly Hart and not the Pink Ranger. She never had to drop everything at a moment’s notice, disappearing and coming back with excuses that got weaker every time. She had believed that Kat was competent and worthy to replace her. Then she met Ben at the Pan-Globals, and her feelings for Tommy changed, and there was just no reason to go back. She’d made it a point to ignore any news about the Rangers.


And now she was being dragged back against her will, a prisoner for reasons she still didn’t understand.

 

“The current team was exposed during that invasion last year. Tommy wasn’t with them.” Jason continued. “I tried to get in touch with him, but I couldn’t track him down.”

“Those women… they kept asking me about the Green Ranger. The Coin, all that stuff he could do...” she whispered. “But the weird thing is, it’s like they already knew the answers.”

Jason shrugged, though his eyes betrayed a glint of rage. “Have you seen what they did to Billy? They probably tortured him until he told them everything. They only needed you to confirm it.”

She shook her head, feeling a tear slide down her cheek. She couldn’t see too well in the near-total darkness, but she was very much aware that her shy friend had been badly abused. “Why are they doing this?” she asked. “What do they want?”

“That will become apparent soon enough, Terran.” Vorpax’s harsh voice interrupted. The two former Rangers backed away as light spilled forth from the Warrior’s torch; she touched the bars with her free hand and they bent apart, creating a gap large enough for two large shadow demons to enter. They were each carrying a prisoner, and in the flickering light their identities were unmistakable: Rocky DeSantos and Tanya Park. Both were unconscious, and the demons dropped them onto the floor with little concern.

 

“The hunt goes well. We’ll soon have all we need.” She nodded towards Jason; the creatures moved with blinding speed and grabbed his arms, forcing him to his feet. As they dragged him away, desperation surged through Kimberly and she leapt up, charging at the armored woman. But the metal bars suddenly slid back into place, and the gymnast slammed into them with an audible thud, knocking the wind out of her. As she fell onto her back, she heard Vorpax’s laughter echo throughout the chamber.

 

Then the torch went out, leaving them in darkness again.

 

*   *   *

 

Jason carefully weighed the possibility of a successful escape as the muscled beasts pushed him down the hall. But this strange fortress was completely unknown to him; even if he escaped his escorts, he could run right back into the jail cells without knowing it. For the moment, he didn’t have much choice but to play along.

 

He didn’t know anything more than Kimberly did; these things had come out of the shadows of his own house, his own room. He hadn’t been able to put up much of a fight in close quarters, and a second later he was in this cold and sterile place, barely conscious enough to understand what was happening around him.

 

As they paused near a stone door, Jason steeled himself for the worst. He’d seen what these monstrous witches had done to Billy, but no torture could cause him to betray Zordon and his friends. He was ready for anything.

 

Or so he thought. The door slid open, and the former Ranger’s eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. Velvet draped the walls, covering the ugly and misshapen rock this entire compound seemed to have been built from. A dozen candles were lit and strewn around the room, creating a mesmerizing blend of shadow and light. There was a large bed on the other side of the room, standing on polished ebon legs and veiled in silk curtains. But his attention was drawn to the large circular bath nearer to the door, filled with gently rippling water.

 

And standing near the edge of that bath, wearing a black robe that hugged her body and outlined every curve, was the Sorceress. Xanthe.

 

“You’ve come at last.” she whispered, smiling with rich, ruby lips. Gone was the crazed hell-bent witch who had brutally tortured his friends. Her black curls had been piled up atop her head, and though her eyes were still blood-red, they did not shine with unholy light anymore.

 

The Sorceress nodded to Jason’s escorts. “Leave us.” she commanded. They bowed their heads to her – strange, to see such physically imposing monsters showing obeisance to so small and unthreatening a woman – but Jason blinked and rejected that thought. If the demons served her, that made her even more dangerous than they were.

 

“You must forgive my sisters’ treatment of your friends.” she said, stepping closer to the rim of the pool. “We have come very far, and suffered much in the process. But I have no power over them; in a sense, I am as much a prisoner as you.” She smiled softly, and Jason felt the room tilt a bit. Deep down, he was surprised to feel some sympathy for this woman.

 

Her hands dropped to her belt, undoing the thin strip of cloth. The robe fell away from her, and Jason couldn’t look away no matter how much he wanted to. The Sorceress seemed at that moment to be more beautiful than any woman he’d ever known; her dark skin glistened, her curvaceous form was sleek and supple, and she didn’t bother to hide anything from him. It was, Jason realized, a natural beauty, devoid of the cosmetic alterations he’d always found unattractive in Earth women. Her only ornament was a golden necklace resting at the base of her throat.

 

Xanthe took a step forward, slowly submerging herself in the water; she moved with such grace that Jason’s eyes followed her until she stopped, the water resting just above her breasts.

 

“Would you like to join me?” she asked.

 

The stirring in his blood was undeniable. His throat was dry as he shook his head. “Sorry… I’m not dressed for the occasion.”

 

She laughed, like a small silver bell. “Eranha ji.” she said, snapping her fingers. Suddenly the room felt much warmer to Jason, and he realized his clothes had disappeared. He could see Xanthe’s lips widen into a hungry smile, and felt his face flush.

 

“Please… come to me.” she pleaded, reaching out for him. He felt himself reacting to her call, stepping into the bath and sinking down into the warm water. The Sorceress smiled and edged closer to him; he could feel her sweet breath across his face as her legs slid around his hips, drawing their bodies closer.

 

“I know of you.” she whispered. “I know of your strength. Together we can free your friends.”

Jason nodded in agreement, helpless and speechless as she ran her hands up and down his chest. She leaned in, bringing her lips to his ear.

 

“I know I can trust you.” she breathed, writhing against him. “You are a man of honor.”

 

Honor. He knew the word, knew what it meant. He remembered the time one of Rita’s henchmen had challenged Trini to single combat, to prove her honor. The Yellow Ranger’s misplaced trust had led her to a trap; as the mantis-creature had explained, it was a monster. It had no honor.

 

And this woman, this Sorceress, had tortured Billy to within an inch of his life. She had laughed as the Warrior sliced into his chest, had watched Kimberly’s blood drip onto the cold floor. Despite her claims of powerlessness, the demons looked to her for instruction. She was beautiful beyond words, and he physically responded to that beauty, but she was evil. No glamour could hide her malicious intent; she was playing him, and now he could see through her manipulations effortlessly.

 

But that works both ways, doesn’t it? he wondered. Maybe I can play her, and figure out what the hell is going on here.

 

“I’ve never met anyone like you.” he whispered. “Where do you from?” He had limited experience with alien physiology, but if she came from a race he was familiar with that could give him some insight.

Her eyes glimmered enigmatically. “A dead world.”

 

“I’m sorry.” he replied automatically.

 

Again that sly smile; but this time Jason resisted the physical urge to pull her closer, ignored the feel of her hands moving down his body. “Don’t be.” she said, and her pride was unmistakable. “I helped destroy it.”

 

So she had no qualms about murder, genocide, destruction on a planetary scale. On one hand, that wasn’t any different from the other tyrants he’d faced, except she’d actually succeeded. Strange that she took pride at such an act, and yet admitted that she had had help. Hardly the egotism he’d seen in Rita, Zedd and Mondo.

 

“Enough about me.” Xanthe announced, abruptly breaking contact with Jason and swimming to the other side of the pool. Part of Jason cried out for the lack of her warmth, but his will had broken every spell ever cast on him; this one would be no different.

 

“What of yourself?” she demanded, the playful tone in her voice gone. “As a leader of Power Rangers, I expect you have many tales of heroism and adventure.”

 

Jason shrugged, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. “I held my own and stayed alive, that’s all there is to say.”

 

She nodded coyly. “Come now, there’s no need to be modest. You’ve fought gods, survived against insurmountable odds.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Gods? Hardly. Just your average intergalactic monster-maker… nothing special.”

 

The Sorceress’ eyes narrowed. “You must know how impossible your very presence here is. And yet you speak as though you don’t know what I mean.” Her face suddenly seemed to bend, her complacent and subservient façade replaced by a cruel and furious countenance. “Ji’dok nahl!” she shouted, and Jason sputtered as his clothes rematerialized on his body, instantly becoming soaked. Arms grabbed at his neck and arms, hauling him out of the bath; so she hadn’t sent her demon guards away after all. The last vestiges of physical attraction vanished as Jason realized this woman was a master of deceit, but infinitely more of a threat than anyone he’d ever faced before. Having failed to get what she wanted by physically torturing Billy, she had resorted to a tactic no other enemy of Earth had ever tried: subtlety.

 

The demons restrained him as she rose from the water, gathering her robe around her. “You think you’re so clever.” she spat. “But I’ll break you sooner or later.”

 

Jason didn’t bother to struggle against the iron grip; he just gave the Sorceress his best confident grin. “You’re out of your league, lady. Earthlings don’t break. You space freaks have been attacking my planet for years, but we survived. They didn’t.”

 

She cocked her head at that, brow furrowing slightly. Then she did the last thing Jason expected: she laughed.

 

“Look around you, Jason Scott.” she said, indicating the demons and the chamber with a grand sweep of her hand. “Do we bear any resemblance to the pitiful conquerors you’ve vanquished in times past? I am no meager queen seeking to add another world to her bloated empire. I am Xanthe of the Triad. I come not to rule your world, but to kill it. And you will remember those words when all you love burns around you.”

 

*   *   *

 

Angel Grove, California

 

The Simudeck had been converted to a makeshift war room; spacious, with various sensor feeds being displayed on the screens and a holographic map in the center of the chamber. Zedd stood there, flanked by Rita and Divatria and facing the five Space Rangers.

 

“This is where we stand.” the Khanduri announced. “DECA is still working on reactivating the Command Center systems. Unfortunately, since this morning there have been two more teleportations right here in Angel Grove, corresponding to the last known locations of Jason Scott and Rocky DeSantos.” None of the Rangers recognized those names, but the gravity of the situation was unmistakable.

 

“It’s possible they escaped, or weren’t there to begin with.” Rita added. “We’re still checking that possibility. In the meantime, we need to find either the former Rangers themselves, or confirmation that they’ve been killed or captured.”

 

Karone took center stage as the map of Earth appeared again. “We’ll move in a widening spiral pattern, starting with Stone Canyon. Zedd and I will track down Justin Stewart. T.J., you head to Los Angeles and bring in Tommy Oliver. Carlos, New York City; you’re looking for Adam and Tanya Park.” She paused and checked her datapad again. “Kat Hillard’s last recorded location was London, England, but based on the teleport in Sydney she may have been there when these creatures attacked. Cassie, find out what you can. Zhane, Kimberly hart in Miami. Andros, Zack Taylor in Boston. And Ashley, you need to find Trini Kwan in Geneva.” Turning to address the team, she said: “Take the Gliders, get in and out as fast as you can. Their most recent addresses have already been programmed into your morphers; if they’ve moved on, try to pick up their trail. Rita, Divatria and Alpha will be available here at the Megaship for consultation.”

 

With silent agreement, the group quickly dispersed.

 

*   *   *

 

Sol System: Asteroid Belt

 

Rocky slowly sat up, rubbing his head and groaning. “Oh man…”

 

“Hey.” Kimberly whispered, catching his attention.

 

He smiled weakly at her. “Kimberly Hart. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

 

“Adam?” Tanya called, looking around her with eyes full of fear. “Adam?”

 

Kimberly reached out and took the girl’s hand. They didn’t know each other that well, but they still shared a bond as Rangers that made Tanya as good a friend to Kimberly as Trini or Aisha. “Calm down, Tanya. Adam isn’t here. They didn’t bring him in.” She paused, considering the implications of that. Either Adam had escaped their demon captors… or they’d killed him. Xanthe had already hinted that some of her friends, her former teammates, were dead. But she couldn’t think about that now, couldn’t think about who may or may not have survived this.

 

“Oh my God …” Rocky muttered. “Billy?” He had made his way to the far side of the cell, where the bruised countenance of Billy Cranston was barely visible in the shadows. “What the hell did they do to you?” No reply was forthcoming; he was still fast asleep, and maybe that was for the better.

“What’s going on?” Tanya asked. “What are we doing here? Where are we?”

Kimberly shrugged. “That would be ‘I don’t know’ to all three. What’s the last thing you remember?”

 

The former Yellow Ranger narrowed her eyes in concentration. “I was… at home, getting ready for my shift at the radio station. Adam went downstairs to throw the garbage. I went to the closet to get my jacket…” Her eyes widened. “Something hit me from behind.”

 

“Same here.” Rocky explained, casting a troubled glance at Billy every now and then. “This shadow jumped off the wall and grabbed me, right after I finished teaching the early morning class.”

 

Kimberly nodded gravely, and bit her lip as she remembered Jason, who still hadn’t returned. “All I know is the three women in charge of this thing want something that has to do with the Rangers.”

Rocky shook his head slightly. “But why bother with us? I don’t know any more about the new team than the rest of the world. Kim, you and Tanya never even served together.”

 

The former Pink Ranger shrugged. “I hadn’t even heard from any of them since Muiranthias. I didn’t even know the team had been replaced until Jason told me.”

 

The Hispanic teen sat back and let out a sigh. “It’ll be okay. Zordon’ll come through for us in the end. He always does.” Tanya smiled and nodded, but Kimberly lowered her gaze to the floor.

 

“Kim?” Rocky asked, his smile fading a bit. “What’s wrong?”

 

*   *   *

 

Stone Canyon, California

 

“By the Gods…” Karone whispered as Zedd’s car pulled to a stop in front of the Stewart residence. There, in the broad light of day, a tall grey demon towered over a young boy in his early teens. Karone recognized his face from Alpha’s files: Justin Stewart, one-time Blue Ranger. They were embroiled in heavy combat, the demon’s talons crackling with energy as it lunged at him. Justin’s smaller size allowed him to evade the blows, but the thin beast was equally agile.

 

“Hey!” Karone screamed, trying to distract the creature as Zedd pulled a laser rifle from the backseat. But though Justin’s head whirled around to look at her, the demon paid her no heed and took full advantage of Justin’s momentary slip. It grabbed the boy by the shoulders, and he screamed as a jolt of electricity coursed through him. As Zedd opened fire, both Justin and his assailant vanished in a burst of lightning.

 

The Kerovan girl skidded to a halt and cursed softly. They were too late.

 

The house was empty; Zordon’s files indicated that Justin’s father Dean worked for a law firm downtown and wouldn’t return for several hours. Karone thought to leave some kind of message, but Zedd was adamant that they return to Angel Grove at once. As they turned the car around, Karone wondered if maybe that was for the best; would her parents’ pain have lessened any had she left them a goodbye note?

 

She’d never know.

 

*   *   *

 

Geneva, Switzerland

 

Ashley paused at the great cathedral doors, rechecking the data DECA had given her. Trini Kwan’s last known apartment had been leased out a year ago, and the new resident didn’t even know her. That left one other lead: the last entry in Trini’s file indicated that she was volunteering at one of the local churches.

 

“Can I help you?” A voice behind the Yellow Ranger startled her, and she whirled around to find an elderly nun standing behind her, hands in her robes with a soft smile on her face.

 

Ashley cleared her throat. “Yeah… I’m looking for Trini Kwan. Does she still come here?”
 

The smile faded softly. “Trini?”

“Yes. Where can I find her?”

The nun gave a soft sigh and indicated an area at the rear of the building. “Out back. Second grave to the right.”

 

The finality of that statement sent a chill down Ashley’s spine. “But… how?” she asked.

 

“Car accident, two years ago.” the nun replied, shaking her head sadly. “It was a tragedy… the Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.”

 

Ashley was still numb as she followed the nun to the small graveyard, where a tombstone with Trini’s name and the dates within which she’d lived her life stood among a dozen others. No one here knew who she really was. She’d died and been buried here, miles away from Angel Grove and the people who had loved her.

 

The nun left her, and she stood alone before the cold headstone. Ashley sighed sadly and placed a hand on the marker; she’d never known Trini, but hope had flashed in Zedd’s eyes when he’d spoken her name.

 

Now that hope was gone, and their chances dropped that much more.

 

*   *   *

 

Angel Grove, California

 

Rita’s spirits sank as first Zedd and Karone, and then the Rangers all returned empty-handed. And her mood darkened with every report they handed in: the Park residence was a mess, with no sign of either Tanya or Adam. Zack’s apartment had been destroyed in an explosion the day before. Trini had died in a car crash. None of Tommy’s family or friends had heard from him in months. Katherine’s parents were dead, but the ex-Pink Ranger’s body was nowhere to be found. Kimberly, Jason, Rocky, all vanished without a trace. And now Justin was gone as well.

 

Ashley was the first to snap, whirling on Zedd with unmasked fury. “Enough is enough, Zedd.” she announced, folding her arms resolutely. “You tell us to drop everything, to put our lives on hold again because some big evil is supposedly on its way. Good people are dead. I want to know why.”

 

Zedd stared at her for a moment, then nodded. As he sat at the nearest table, he brought out a thick leather-bound volume with a golden Z on the cover.

 

“Very well.” he said. “It’s only fair you know what’s coming. Though I warn you… it won’t make you feel any better.”

 

*   *   *

 

Sol System: 270,000,000 miles from Earth

 

“Get OFF me!” a high-pitched voice screamed in the darkness. Kimberly was crouched over a battered Jason, tending to his wounds, when two of the shadow demons arrived, carrying a young boy between them. She instantly recognized him: Justin Stewart, the last Blue Ranger she’d seen. Kimberly let out a breath of relief as she noticed that he hadn’t been tortured yet; he was just a kid.

 

And yet it took his captors much more effort to contain him than the others had required; these monsters were obviously unaccustomed to fighting children. But the light in the hall shone in Justin’s face, and Kimberly realized that time had passed for him as well. He’d only been twelve when Zordon had recruited; but he was at least fifteen now. The growth spurts had probably started kicking in around last year; he was a hell of a lot taller than she remembered.

 

But even so, he was still human. And while the demons had trouble holding onto him, they threw him into the cell easily enough, the bars momentarily bending enough to let him in and then shifting back into place a moment later. She guessed they, like the chains that had held her up, were somehow alive, if not sentient.

 

Justin let out a curse she didn’t expect him to know, let alone say. As soon as he noticed her, though, his eyes filled with understanding. This was Ranger business.

 

She quickly filled him in on what was going on: Zordon’s alleged death, the capture of the former Rangers, the strange interrogations… and even as she explained it, she wasn’t surprised by Justin’s mystified expression. What possible connection could he have to all this? The Triad were collecting former Rangers for a reason, and yet they were just as content to kill some of them. But Justin had next to nothing in common with Jason or Billy in terms of their Ranger service. This whole thing just made no sense.

 

“Did they hurt you?” she asked, noting his wince as he sat down on the cold floor. She reached for him, but the boy yanked his arm away and shook his head.

 

“It’s okay, I can handle it.” he replied gruffly. After a moment, he smiled. “You know, I’m thinking this is a good thing.”

 

Kimberly’s eyes widened. “Good? We don’t know where we are or why we’re here, we’ve got no way out and God only knows what those witches are going to do to us…

What part of that is good?”

 

The grin widened as Justin pulled a small metal rod from his pocket. “The part where they didn’t find my Turbo Key.”

 

The gymnast stared at the device for a moment with an incredulous look in her eyes. “Turbo Key… you have powers?”

 

Justin nodded, obviously pleased with himself. “I didn’t have time to morph when I got grabbed… but I’m thinking the rematch will turn out a little differently.”

 

For the first time, Kimberly felt a genuine smile perk up her lips. Against all odds, they suddenly had a real chance.

 

*   *   *

 

Angel Grove, California

 

They were all there: Zedd with his book, Andros sitting at the other end of the table, and in between were the Rangers: Ashley, Carlos, T.J., Cassie and Zhane. Rita and Divatria were there, as was Karone. The only member of their group that was absent was Alpha; Zedd had ordered him to keep working on the interface. The sooner they had the teleportation system online, the better chance they’d have of retrieving their missing predecessors.

 

Zedd held a large leather-bound book in his hands, studying the emblazoned Z carefully. When he spoke, the gravity in his voice seemed to pull away any attempt at humor or levity. This was beyond crucial, and they all knew it.

 

“The enemy we now face is more powerful and more dangerous than any you have known before, directly or by reputation. It has no will to dominate others, no worldly desire save the causing of destruction and disorder. It has but one goal: to overthrow all creation. And its name is…” Zedd’s throat closed for a moment, unwilling to speak the foul word. But he finally forced it out of his lips:

 

“Ma’erok.”

 

Whether it was their imagination or not, the Megaship seemed to grow darker and colder at the mere mention of the name. The Rangers exchanged glances, but it was clear that beyond being exotic in an alien way, the name didn’t ring any bells.

 

Zedd laid the book on the table. “This is Zordon’s journal, written in the aftermath of the Wars of Anarchy. He had hoped it would provide aid in such a time… let us pray that it does.”

 

The latch was undone in moments, and Zedd pulled the tome open. With a deep breath, he began to read.

 

If this book has been opened, it can only mean two things. The first is that the prophecy of Anol Turinas has been fulfilled; I am dead, and evil has been vanquished from this galaxy. Unfortunately, it also means a greater threat has been unleashed. I only pray these words come to you now in time.

 

The beast has many names, but none more accurate than Prime Enemy; for the Spirit of the Abyss is foe to all who live, in light or in darkness. It is a being of malice and hatred, existing only to consume and corrupt and destroy. Its powers are beyond measure, drawn from the forces of entropy that exist within all things.

 

“Many have sought to determine the origin of the Archfiend, perhaps seeking a weakness that had yet to be revealed. But I alone have seen its true face, and I know it for what it is… may the Power protect us all.

 

"Before the dawn of time, this universe was a formless Void, populated by demons the likes of which we only see in our darkest nightmares. Chief among these horrors were the Entropics, raw forces of chaos with neither shape nor consciousness. These beings expelled their energies on each other, as was their way, and during one terrible battle the first star was ignited. Thus the chain of creation began, bringing life and order to the wasteland. The Entropics could not exist in this new reality and were forced to withdraw; now they exist only in the dark places between dimensions.

 

"Yet, as their power waned, one of the Entropics escaped its fate. Sacrificing most of its essence, it incarnated itself into a physical form, becoming flesh and blood in the manner of the mortals who had inherited its home. For uncounted eons the creature lay in a slumber; then it awoke to the pain of a new existence, and vowed to undo all that had been since the time of its reign. It swore to swallow all life in a maelstrom of unbridled destruction, and the Void would encompass all once again.

 

"In this era, two groups dominated known space. The Illuminati was a commonwealth of planets devoted to peace and prosperity. They shared their technologies and cultures with each other, and were governed from Eltar by a council of seven, the Morphing Masters. Their chief opposition lay with the Obscura, a conglomerate of villains who sought only power and conquest. The source of their evil was the volcanic world of Mandalor. This was a time before Power Rangers, and conflicts were settled by armed combat. Fortunately, space travel was still in its infancy then, and the Illuminati and Obscura were separated by great distances.

 

"Then the Abomination came to Mandalor, and everything changed. The Obscura fell under its thrall, ensnared by promises of eternal life and limitless power. They worshipped it as a god, and those of strong will who resisted were cast out, renounced as heretics. What began as a small cult of greedy individuals quickly engulfed the entire world as the Obscura descended into madness and fanaticism. And they named their god Ma'erok, "Harbinger" in the old tongue, and the Enemy took that name unto itself forever."

 

"At first Ma'erok controlled the Obscura through his own power. But in time the subversion became a plague, an incurable disease transmitted by air or blood. Those who became infected immediately abandoned their identity and their life to serve the Nemesis. When control of Mandalor was consolidated, Ma'erok sent his followers - known as the Cult of the Black Hand - out into the universe, to spread the foul word of their master.

 

"The Illuminati did what they could to contain this menace. They saw through Ma'erok's lies and knew he offered only death both to those who served him and those who fought against him. And yet no quarantine was sufficient, and the plague spread to every populated planet in the galaxy. Great temples were built in Ma'erok's name: Thandruin, Sanctuary of Blood, on Mandalor; Gorgathas, Isle of Horrors, on Aquitar; and Udurkath, Halls of Anguish, on Triforia. And in these temples the enthralled committed unspeakable acts, reveling in the sacrifice of their first-born heirs and the genocide of their own people. They built great portals into the Void and consecrated them with the blood of innocents, releasing those lesser demons who had served the Entropics before the Beginning. And Ma'erok's court was numbered a thousand such creatures, and they brought such devastation that had never been known before in this universe.

 

"Yet the Lord of Entropy lusted for further defilement and perversion. Thus he came to each temple and formed great pits in the lowermost levels, infusing them with the raw powers of Chaos. Those worthy of the 'honor' leapt willingly to their demise, and were spawned as hideous beasts. The Triforians were twisted into agile beasts of lightning; Aquitians were deformed into monstrous lurkers of the oceans; and the people of Mandalor, vile and corrupt to begin with, were given bodies of pure darkness, able to meld with shadows and become unseen. These became known as the Balar, the Fallen Ones, for they were beyond salvation. In this was Ma'erok's cruelest achievement, and also his greatest, for the way of Chaos is not to create life, but to distort that which already exists. And the Balar swelled the ranks of his armies, until at last there was open warfare on the Illuminati worlds.

 

"But Ma'erok was sapped of his strength even as his malice grew; for he had overestimated his power, thinking it to be equal to that which he had possessed as an Entropic. Every evil he had sent forth began in him, and by his might alone were they maintained. But that might had been placed into many servants and many acts of destruction, and it was dispersed. It seemed he would consume himself before long. Then the Destroyer came to Drazi, and everything changed.

 

"Drazi was a haven of nature and light, sustained and protected by a being known as the guardian Eraag, who embodied the very life force of the world. Ma'erok's spies revealed the location of this paradise, and he could not abide its existence. The Balar were sent to subdue Eraag, but they were overthrown. Demons from the Void were dispatched next, but they too met their end on Drazi’s soil.”

 

Zedd paused in his reading, his voice becoming heavier. It was clear that his next words were of utmost importance, and they all leaned in to pay closer attention.

 

"Herein lies Ma'erok's only weakness, the key to his defeat. He cannot wield magic, as it is sourced in life and nature and thus is anathema to him. His demons suffer the same vulnerability, and therefore Eraag slew them easily. But if such a power exists that can truly destroy Ma’erok, I know not of it; and after six years of futile assault, at last the Darkener came forth himself, for the first and only time during the wars. And it is said that he did not come willingly, for his power was diminished and he saw that his captains had begun to question him. A cloud of poison vapors surrounded the Nemesis as he set foot upon the world, but Eraag called forth powerful winds that blew away his foul mists. And Ma'erok struck with lightning and fire, yet the guardian persisted, and called upon the earth itself to rise against the invader. Vines arose from the ground to entangle the Abomination, though they withered at his touch; beasts of hoof and wing stormed forth and attacked him, even as he tore their flesh asunder with his unholy gaze.

 

"Then the guardian bound Ma'erok in chains of light, but in this was his fatal mistake. For as the Void draws light into itself, so too did Ma'erok drain the energies of his shackles. And his ravenous hunger spread, and Eraag was devoured; and Drazi was slain and made into a dead world, its waters thick with brine and acid. The Lord of Chaos had taken the very life of the world, and his powers were restored, and a new hunger was instilled in him. Other worlds soon shared Drazi’s fate, and the Nemesis was secure in his might until the battle of Tar'Khala and the fall of Udurkath.

 

"Now among his many titles was added Worldslayer, and the untainted Illuminati at last perceived the gravity of this threat. Taking up arms, they formed a great defense against the Prime Enemy; the Obscura fugitives came forth and joined the union, and they were known as the Universal Protectorate. Such an alliance of good and evil shall never come again. But Ma’erok’s ranks grew as well, and he took into his service three women to act as his lieutenants, and they were his Triad: the Seer, the Warrior, and the Sorceress. Of them I shall speak later.

 

"There were many great battles, many deeds of heroism and villainy throughout the course of the war. For a hundred years the Black Hand fought the Protectorate, with no end in sight. Yet it seemed that Ma’erok would be the victor through attrition, for he did not tire; and it was ordained that only a direct assault against him would bear any chance of success. But the leaders of the Protectorate feared single combat with such a potent foe.

 

"Seeking counsel, I called upon the Spirits of the Ninjetti, and they revealed to me a glorious vision of five warriors in colored raiment: Power Rangers, champions of peace and order. The high priest of the Ninjetti, Ninjor, was even then completing the forging of five magical Coins, from which these paladins would draw great strength. But Ma'erok's Seer learned of this plan, and foresaw that her lord would be defeated by such Rangers. Thus Ma'erok set into motion a terrible plot, one with far-reaching consequences.

 

"The Aquitians fared much better than their allies during the war. The greater portion of the Destroyer’s legions could not fight underwater, and the Aquitians’ formidable mental powers allowed them to resist the plague of subversion. But they became overconfident, and failed to realize that their greatest general, Alurus, had aligned himself with the Black Hand. Under Ma’erok’s orders, Alurus prayed to Ninjor for aid, claiming that Aquitar was on the brink of destruction and would fall if he did not intervene. In truth, no such aid was needed; the Aquitian forces had already commenced a heavy siege upon Gorgathas. But Ninjor had been isolated from news of the war, and believed the deception. No sooner was he come to Aquitar than the Balar captured him, and took him into their stronghold. There he was tortured and mutilated, and the Worldslayer stole from him the secrets of the Coins. Ninjor later escaped the Isle, the only living being to do so, but it no longer mattered; for Ma'erok could now forge his own Power Coins, and use them to create Chaos Rangers, to be his vassals and heralds. In the depths of the Isle of Horrors the Green Coin was made, superior to the other five, bearing the mark of the Dragon."

 

Rita clapped a hand on her mouth, letting out a muffled gasp of surprise. Zedd nodded sadly and continued to read.

 

"Because no champion had proven worthy enough to bear it, Ma’erok set it in an onyx mask and wore it always. In time it became attuned to his powers, and extended them further. But Ninjor's wits had not abandoned him in spite of his agony. He had mixed lies with truth, and led Ma'erok to believe that the Coins could only be made from a single metal, Ryx, to be found only in the province of Tar'Khala on Triforia. The Triforian defenders had built secret tunnels beneath the fields, so that the main bulk of their army lay hidden beneath the earth, and Ma'erok knew nothing of their true numbers. He saw Tar'Khala as an easy conquest.”

 

Zedd’s eyes lifted from the book and he steepled his fingers, his gaze far in the past. “At this point the Council of Seven consisted of myself, Zordon and five others. Ninjor came to us and told us what had happened. Zordon moved to ambush Ma’erok in Tar’Khala, and supplement the Triforians with the entire Protectorate army. It would be the last stand for the fate of the universe. The plan was accepted, but I… lacked the faith of my brethren. I sought another source of power, one that could contest the Black Lord. And I found it on this world's moon: the Zeo Crystal."

 

Andros had heard legends of this crystal, but to the Earth-born Rangers this was all new. They were vaguely aware that their former Command Center had been powered by that Zeo Crystal, but were completely ignorant of the true powers that had lain in that white prism.

 

Zedd continued, regret etched into his face. "As the Masters prepared their trap, I left in secret and came to the Caves of Deception. I thought I was acting in the best interest of all living things... but my motives were selfish. I wanted the glory, to be forever remembered and honored as he who slew Chaos Incarnate. The Caves showed me images of myself as a great king, and I gave in to the temptation. I touched the force field with thoughts of greed and selfishness in my heart, and I paid the price, became the monster you knew me as. I joined the other Masters on Triforia without the Zeo Crystal, and when they saw what I had become, they renounced me. But I had nowhere to go, for at that moment Ma'erok arrived."

 

He turned back to the book, ignoring the sympathetic glances from Karone and Rita. "The Destroyer wasted no time; within hours of his arrival the Balar marched on Tar'Khala. In his arrogance, Ma’erok paid little heed to the Triforians, believing that by taking the Ryx he would also crush the final bastion of their resistance. But the Protectorate sprang its trap, and the Balar were utterly destroyed. When Ma’erok learned of the defeat he emptied Udurkath and loosed his forces on his enemies. But being dismayed by their earlier defeat they were vanquished, and the Masters tore down the Halls of Anguish and cast the Balar back into their pits.

 

"The Prime Enemy fled Triforia, but was pursued mercilessly: Gorgathas was cleansed, and even Thandruin, oldest and greatest of Ma'erok's dwellings, fell into rubble. In his final desperation, the Worldslayer came to Eltar, and there, from the earth itself, he raised his mightiest stronghold: Kul Tirath, the Citadel of the Black Hand. Stone and mortar were transformed into black adamant and onyx, impervious to assault. Around the main fortress five towers were raised, and their peaks belched forth poisons and foul smoke which covered the region in shadow. Spawning pits were opened into the very core of the world, and all Eltarians in the service of Ma’erok became Balar, and their new forms were terrible and anointed in fire.

 

“There the whole power of the Throne of Ma’erok was summoned, and it was so great and beyond count that the valley could not contain it. They gathered at the gates of Kul Tirath and awaited the final battle. But the Protectorate was not without hope, for Ninjor came, and granted his five Coins to the Masters, to all but myself and the...” Zedd’s voice caught for a moment, but he pressed on. “The traitor Zedd. Thus the Power Rangers were born, and they came forth and slew Ma’erok’s demons by the hundreds. So the last war began.

 

"As the battle raged, the three most powerful members of the Protectorate - myself, Zedd of Khandur and Dark Specter of Mandalor - slipped through the gates of Kul Tirath to challenge the Lord of Chaos himself. The contest was fierce, for even united as we were we could but hold him off. But the Gods were with me, for Ma’erok wore the Green Coin upon his brow, and in the heat of battle I smote his face with my staff, and the Coin was torn from him. Disoriented, the Worldslayer stumbled, and our final spell was cast: together we pulled the very essence of the abomination from its physical shell, and cast it into the astral winds.

 

"So Ma’erok fell, and his reign was ended, his power broken. The Balar fell into disarray and fled into the deep places of the earth, and the Triad was sealed within Kul Tirath. Then the citadel itself was torn from the soil of the world and cast out into space. And those servants who came from Beyond were sent back to whence they came, and those places through which they had entered were destroyed.

 

"With the threat gone, the Protectorate dissolved, and each returned to the old ways. The last act of that union was to erase all evidence of the Destroyer’s presence, to ensure that future generations would not forever dread his return. The Illuminati founded the Federation of Light, while the Obscura remnant rebuilt Mandalor as the capital of the new United Alliance of Evil. Time passed, and the tales of the Black Nightmare faded from history to legend, from legend to myth, and finally, from myth to obscurity.

 

"The Coins were returned to Ninjor, but he insisted I find five champions to wield them, to continue the line of Rangers, to preserve those defenders of hope and justice. He was troubled when he learned of the Green Coin, for it had not been recovered in the aftermath of the battle. Ninjor prophesized that it would bring much grief before its end; therefore he withdrew to his temple, and focused all his power to bring forth the seventh Coin, White of everlasting Light, the sum of all the others. And to ensure that the forces of evil would not seize it, the blacksmith kept it with him and breathed no word of its creation, not even to his sacred Animal Spirits. And his faith in me was so great that he bestowed upon me that White Coin after many years, on the promise that I would never call upon it unless there was no alternative. I have kept my word: no White Ranger has arisen through the power that was entrusted to me. The concept of Power Rangers was eventually adopted by other Federation worlds, and they made their own devices and champions; but none could claim the power of those first five."

 

“Wait a minute.” T.J. objected. “What about this Green Coin? What happened to it?”

 

Zedd looked ready to answer, but Rita stepped in. “I can answer that.” she explained. “At first, the Green Coin was presumed lost, sealed away with the Triad in Kul Tirath. But Zedd had stolen the Coin in the confusion, and became consumed by it. And when he gave the Coin to me, I was also corrupted. Neither of us knew this at the time, but the Coin was still tainted by Ma’erok’s power. When Zordon learned that I had it, he chased me here, leading to the battle that left us both imprisoned. The Green Coin eventually found its way to Earth upon my release, and then it was lost in the past. As far as I know, it never resurfaced."

 

Zedd let out a deep breath. "I always feared that using the Green Coin would somehow awaken Ma'erok. I kept a close watch for any signs of his return for thousands of years...  but in my heart I never thought this day would come. And now it has. The Balar are awake; Ma’erok has returned.”

 

To their surprise, Rita shook her head. "I'm not so sure. I sensed Ma'erok's defeat all those years ago, but not his return to this plane. And I should have, we all should have. All we know right now is that the Balar have risen to attack Eltar and the other Federation worlds. We need to know more. And we need to be prepared.” Her eyes flashed, as cold as steel. "Any power that could have contested Ma'erok in the past is gone. The Masters are dead, as is Dark Specter. The Zeo Crystal was destroyed, and evil magic doesn’t exist in this galaxy anymore. The Federation is helpless: planetary bombardment is out of the question since the Balar are already embedded in major cities, and we can't expect too much from the Quantrons. The best they can do is slow the Balar down.”

Andros nodded. “So what are we up against here?”

Zedd turned back to the book. “The peace we earned in blood is no more, if you are reading this book. Of Ma'erok I have already told all that is known; hear now of those who served him, and may yet serve him now."

 

As he turned the page, the Rangers drew closer and found that an illustration dominated the left page. It was a drawing of three humanoid women: a scantily-clad black woman with wild ebon hair; a pale, black-robed girl with a blindfold tied over her eyes; and a tall woman in form-fitting armor, grasping a pair of swords in her hands.

 

"Highest among the Destroyer's lieutenants were these women, the Triad, spared physical deformation by the will of their lord. Fanatically loyal to Ma'erok, they will stop at nothing to carry out his will.

 

"Vorpax was once Master Warrior of Phaedos. Her title was taken from her when her pupil Dulcea bested her in single combat. Rather than humbly accept defeat, as all before her have, Vorpax grew bitter and resentful, and she came into the service of Ma'erok, promising him the Great Power in exchange for her revenge. But Dulcea defeated her again, and the Light of Phaedos escaped corruption. Despite her failure, Ma'erok kept her as his champion. Vorpax is an expert in all manner of weaponry, but she is best recognized when wielding the Katar claws; they are made from a mutated form of diamond that can cut through even a Ranger's armor.

 

"Beware the Sorceress Xanthe, leader of the Triad and Ma'erok's greatest shield against magic. A former shamaness of the Phad'rathi people, her lust for power drove her to the dark arts and she began consorting with demons. It is to this end that she serves Ma'erok. Devious and cunning, and far more treacherous than her appearance belies, Xanthe is not to be trusted. Her magic is powered by infernal sorceries that allow her to summon lesser demons through rituals, though she cannot reach into the Void without the aid of her master. Despite her long abandonment of the ways of the shaman, the Sorceress can still manipulate the elements to some extent, and exert her charms over men to make them more malleable to her needs.

 

"Of the Seer's origin none are certain, though some claim she is a lost child of the Deldaani prophets. Because she has the power to see possible futures, she is the Archfiend's most trusted advisor. It is said that Eressea was driven mad by her gift, and blinded herself to cease her visions; yet her torment continued unabated until Ma'erok came to her. He fashioned a device called the Obsidian Eye, which focuses the Seer's power and calms her agonized soul. She, unlike the others, serves Ma'erok out of gratitude, which binds her to him all the more. Fortunately for us, the Seer's shattered mind prevents her from maintaining a vision for more than a few moments; but even those glimpses cost the Protectorate thousands of lives, for her gaze pierces time and space, stone and flesh. Warding spells may deflect her sight for short times; though I believe there may be a technological means to block her entirely, it was not devised in time to be of any use to us.

 

The next page held an image of two giant demons wearing identical sets of armor: one was silver, the other bronze. Though their physiology seemed nearly identical, their faces were completely different. The bigger demon’s face was a mass of disfigured, exposed flesh, while the smaller one had neither skin nor flesh, just white bone and gleaming red eyes.

 

"Any who would face Ma'erok in single combat must first vanquish the Doom Guard. Bound to Ma'erok as they are, they never stray far from his side. As far as I can tell, these foul beasts were once proud warriors of the Titan people. The one in silver armor is the Flesh Knight, a berserker with an insatiable bloodlust. The smaller bronze-armored demon is the Wraith Knight, an undead wraith who feeds on the souls of its victims. Fortunately, it is corporeal and can be subdued.

 

“It was my wish that the future generations of innocents live in freedom, unafraid of shadows and possible danger. But the fear remains in me even now, for I do not believe Ma’erok was brought down forever. And in my heart of hearts I know I will not live to face him again, should he return in the distant future; therefore I leave this legacy to you, children of light, and I pray it may aid you in some small way. May the Power protect you all, and lead you to victory.”

 

Zedd took a deep breath as he closed the book, though there were at least a hundred more pages that followed. “I won’t lie to you, Rangers.” he said, making eye contact with each one of them. “If Ma’erok has been resurrected, the odds of your survival are slim.” A small smile flitted across his face. “But then, you Earthlings have a way of beating any odds. Our first priority is to find out exactly what we’re dealing with. We need to find Kul Tirath: whatever power controls the Balar is sourced there.”

*   *   *

 

Sol System: 200,000,000 miles from Earth

 

Heavy footsteps were echoing from down the hall. Kimberly and Justin locked eyes, and the youngest Ranger gave the slightest nod. He was ready. She looked over to the far corner, where Jason was speaking in hushed urgency to Billy; she could see a defiant fire start to build in the genius’ unscarred eye. He had already managed to slip his wrists through the oversized manacles. Finally, she turned to Rocky and Tanya. Clearly, the former Yellow Ranger was the only one among them that had doubts about trying to escape. It was still possible that Adam was in this place somewhere. But she knew this was the only chance they’d get.

 

One of the larger shadow demons approached the cell door and the bars bent obediently, allowing it to grab Justin’s arm. He made no move to resist as he was pulled to his feet. But as the creature led him outside, Kimberly leapt to her feet and screamed: “NOW!”

Immediately, Justin charged at the nearest wall, using the demon’s leverage to run up the craggy surface and catapult himself backwards. The beast tried to recapture him, but Justin backflipped through the corridor, jamming his Turbo Key into his wrist morpher as he did so.

 

 “SHIFT INTO TURBO!” he commanded. A blaze of blue energy lit up the halls, causing the demon to recoil with a growl. As Kimberly watched, Justin vanished, replaced by the Blue Turbo Ranger. Without a moment’s hesitation he drew his massive Hand Blasters and fired. Twin bolts of sapphire energy impaled the demon, causing it to wail in agony as it stumbled backwards, still on its feet.

 

She couldn’t believe how fast the Turbo Ranger moved. As he took a step forward, he turned one of the Blasters onto the cell bars while still firing on the demon with the other. The steel bars evaporated, and Kimberly let out a cheer as she and her friends took off, Billy being supported by Rocky and Jason.

 

“Let’s get out of here!” the ex-Pink Ranger called, and Justin nodded, taking point as the group ran for their lives.

 

*   *   *

 

Angel Grove, California

 

The Rangers had been silently processing Zordon’s warnings when the alarm startled them. For a moment, fear flashed across each of their faces, believing that it was already too late.

 

Andros recovered first. “DECA, what’s going on?”

 

The computer replied, as ever, in a calm tone; but nonetheless they knew this was news of great importance. “A power surge has been registered near Mars. The energy signature is consistent with a Ranger morph. Classification: Turbo.”

 

Cassie’s jaw dropped. “Justin!” she realized. “He’s the only one who still has Turbo powers… which means he’s still alive!”

 

“It means more than that.” T.J. replied gravely. “Whoever took him is already in this solar system.”

 

Zhane was already at the science station. “DECA, give me a visual trace on that power surge.”

 

The AI obeyed, and the viewscreen displayed an area of empty space, with Mars on the edge of the periphery.

 

Andros’ eyes narrowed. “There’s nothing out there.”

 

Zedd shook his head. “Oh yes there is. Look.” He stepped closer to the viewscreen and pointed at a round patch of black nothingness. “DECA, shouldn’t we be seeing stars in this area?”

 

“Affirmative.” DECA replied. “I cannot explain my inability to scan that area.”

 

The Khanduri smiled. “I can. Fire three flare torpedoes into that radius.”

 

The computer did not reply; it required the Red Ranger’s authorization to access weapons systems. “Do it, DECA.” Andros allowed.

 

A slight rumble passed through the hull as the starboard torpedo launcher angled upwards and released three consecutive streaks of light. As the Rangers watched, the torpedoes veered out of Earth’s gravity well and arced towards the mysterious dead zone.

 

Suddenly, with no visible sign of impact, the flares detonated. But to their surprise, the blaze of light tore away the shadows, revealing something that hadn’t been there a moment ago. The Rangers gaped in astonishment; it was indeed Kul Tirath, if the hand-shaped structure was any indication. Just as Zordon had written, five black towers formed a semi-circle around a massive black fortress. It was perfectly balanced upon a mass of rock that moved in a straight line… right towards Earth.

 

“DECA, magnify and enhance.” Zedd commanded.

 

The distant fortress suddenly engulfed the entire screen; Carlos let out a whispered prayer. DECA had minimized the image so they could view the entire construct; but now they saw it as it truly was, a colossal citadel that probably dwarfed Angel Grove like a dragon dwarfed a lizard. The black walls rose high above the main iron gates (which seemed to be the only way in or out of the fortress), and a single balcony jutted out near the roof.

 

“Well, I’d say that settles it.” the former tyrant announced, his tone belying the joviality of his words. “We know they’re coming, and they know we’re here. We’ll find the former Rangers there.” He turned to Andros then and placed a hand on his shoulder. “All depends on you, Andros. You and the Rangers must infiltrate Kul Tirath and rescue the others.”

 

“Or, in the alternative, how about we don’t?” Ashley interjected, shaking her head. “Look, I know that thing is bad news. But I’m not going in there blind. Who knows what we’ll find there?”

 

“The majority of the Balar are still attacking the other Federation worlds.” Andros countered. “The Triad’s defenses should be minimal.”

Should be, not is.” the Yellow Ranger shot back. “Just one of these things managed to beat the hell out of you, Andros. And you want us to walk right into their lair and knock on the door?”

 

The Red Ranger was clearly bristling at that implied insult. “The Balar caught me by surprise last time. It won’t happen again.”

 

Ashley snorted. “Right.”

 

“This argument is pointless.” Cassie interjected, coming between the combating Rangers. “Whatever else is true, we have to remember that innocent lives are at stake. We’re Power Rangers. This is what we do.”

 

Andros and Ashley glared at each other a moment longer. Then Zhane cleared his throat. “Cassie’s right. Time’s not on our side… we have to be together on this.”

T.J. nodded. “Let’s move.”

 

*   *   *

 

Sol System: 156,000,000 miles from Earth

 

“All clear!” Justin hissed, sprinting across the darkened corridors. Both his hands were wrapped around a single Hand Blaster; Kimberly had the other and was bringing up the rear. Justin’s spare Auto Blaster was given to Tanya, who stayed close to Rocky, Billy and Jason, the latter of whom held a Turbo Blade in his free hand. Kimberly had always taken the vast armory available to the Rangers for granted; she’d give anything to feel her old Power Bow in her hands again.

 

“Stay close together. Watch the shadows, these things can blend in very easily.” Jason whispered. Amazing how quickly he was able to take charge; the old leadership instincts had not diminished in the least. That, and he was the most experienced leader they had. Kimberly found herself relieved that Tommy wasn’t here; the last thing they needed was a power struggle.

 

“We should head for the roof.” Justin said. “There has to be some kind of opening, anything that’ll tell us where we are.”

 

Kimberly nodded. “I noticed stairs when they were dragging me in here. I think… down the left hall.”

 

They moved cautiously, but with a haste that was borne of the danger posed to them. Apart from Justin, they were all powerless. None of them had those amazing recuperative abilities or enhanced endurance. They couldn’t bend steel or outrun a bullet anymore. They were just ordinary human beings fighting for their lives.

 

They had never been so dangerous.

 

Justin peered ahead into the darkness, blaster aimed at the shadows. As he disappeared around the corner, Kimberly quickly followed to catch up with him.

 

A wall of shadow seemed to descend from the ceiling, separating them. Before she could realize that a Shadowbeast had dropped from above them, it backhanded her with such force that her head almost snapped clean off her shoulders. As it was, the former Pink Ranger was dazed as she stumbled against the wall as the sounds of battle raged around her.

 

She didn’t even feel the wall give way until it was too late.

 

“KIMBERLY!” Jason screamed as the gymnast fell through the revolving wall. A flash of blue energy lit up the corridor behind him, and Jason whirled to see the demon crumple to the floor, part of its head blasted away courtesy of the Blue Ranger.

 

“I’m going after her.” Jason announced gravely. “This could be our only chance to escape, and the clock’s ticking. I don’t expect any of you to sacrifice yourselves.”

 

They all exchanged glances of fierce determination; not one of them hesitated.

 

*   *   *

 

She wasn’t sure how far or how long she’d fallen, but she hit the ground a lot softer than she expected, and on her feet no less. Her grip on the Hand Blaster relaxed somewhat as she observed her surroundings: pitch-black, but there was a distant light coming up ahead. She moved as quietly as she could, fully aware that the ground on which she stood was much less firm than the unyielding stone she’d walked upon before. At the same time, it was terribly cold; the cell had been a far cry from a sauna, but here she could actually see her breath come out in small puffs of mist that quickly vanished into nothing.

 

The glow up ahead was growing larger. For all she knew she was walking right back into the interrogation chamber; but she was armed now, and she didn’t have to worry about the others. Let that witch try to touch her again.

 

And yet the closer she drew to the mouth of the lit chamber, the more positive she became that no one was here. There was a stillness in the air she couldn’t account for. Finally she reached the mouth of a large circular room and stepped into the light.

 

She could barely stop herself from screaming in mortal terror.

 

The chamber was constructed entirely of skin and petrified flesh. Bodies were partially embedded in the walls, their distended faces contorted in agony. The smell of blood, the blood of a dozen species, was overpowering, and the former Pink Ranger felt the contents of her stomach churn uneasily.

 

More corpses hung from nooses extended from the ceiling. Kimberly carefully navigated between them, and one thought kept repeating itself in her head: Zedd and Rita had never been this cruel, and she herself had never seen true evil. Then Kimberly halted in her tracks and a hand shot to her mouth.

 

The lifeless body of Ninjor lay discarded in a corner of the room, on a small heap of bodies. His helmet and armor were cracked and pools of blood collected on his massive chest. Tears of regret filled the ex-Pink Ranger’s eyes as she recognized Lerigot’s face poking out of the mass of dead flesh. And there were more, so many more, human and robot alike… Drawing nearly, Kimberly gingerly parted the black and gold vest of a dark-haired humanoid and noted that the mortal wound on his chest was still fresh; it couldn’t have happened more than a day or two ago.

 

Turning away from the bodies, Kimberly noted that a veritable river of blood was moving away from the mound, joining other streams from other piles of bodies. The streams were moving towards the center of the room, and again she felt dwarfed and in awe at the massive monument before her, and the butchery it had cost. She was standing before a platform at the top of three steps, all formed from bones and skulls. Atop the platform stood a massive throne made of polished black onyx. The back of the chair reached upwards and then split off into a series of curved spikes, each of which had a cracked and broken skeleton impaled upon it.

 

There was someone sitting on the throne. Thoughts of escape flashed through Kimberly’s mind before she realized that she was standing in plain sight and the person had not reacted. Another body?

 

No, she realized. Something more. Because unlike the violated bodies of the fallen heroes, this man was intact. He was bigger than any human she had known, but most of his frame was hidden by black plate armor. In fact, that was the only color to be seen upon him: the metal plates covered his legs as well, and his feet were encased in boots of a similar alloy. An imposing black mask covered his face, shaped into a nearly flat piece of metal crowned with serrated spikes. There was a small circular depression in the mask’s forehead. The only part of the outfit that wasn’t metal was the long black cape that descended from his neck down to his feet.

 

Kimberly drew closer, her fear forgotten in the face of curiosity. The motionless body sat upright, a hand resting upon the edge of each armrest. He had been positioned to seem alert from afar. But as she peered into the imposing eye slits, she could see two tiny strips of white flesh: eyelids. He was asleep, or dead.

 

Who was he? Why was he here, sitting on a throne when those women upstairs were running the show? If they had overthrown him, he might want to help her retaliate. Kimberly reached out with trembling fingers to pull away the mask; as her nails grazed the metal, she heard footsteps coming from behind her. Kimberly slung the bow over her shoulder and grabbed the blaster before spinning around and ducking behind the throne. She hoped it would provide sufficient cover.

 

The voice of the Sorceress echoed from just outside the chamber. “… things are unraveling too quickly. Eressea claims the Rangers of Earth are on their way here. And the prisoners are eluding us.” Xanthe’s curvaceous silhouette stretched across the far wall as she drew nearer to the throne. “No matter. They cannot escape.” Then Kimberly saw something amazing. This woman – this powerful witch who had terrorized her and her friends – dropped to one knee and pressed the man’s hand to her lips. “Forgive my trespass. All that I do is in service to you.”

 

Oh great, the former Ranger thought to herself. Not only was this not a potential ally, this was someone who inspired reverence in Xanthe.

 

And yet he did not respond. She held her breath as Xanthe drew closer; metal slid out of a leather sheath, and for a moment Kimberly was sure she’d been found. But the shadows on the wall were clear enough: Xanthe drew the knife against the palm of the man’s hand, and placed it in a wooden bowl she had placed by her knees. In the absolute silence, Kimberly could hear a slight dripping sound. A moment later the Sorceress was gone.

 

Time to make an exit, Kimberly thought to herself. She couldn’t risk taking the same path she and the Sorceress had used to enter, but there was another tunnel a few feet away, almost hidden from view by two mounds of corpses. She wouldn’t, couldn’t think about that now, about all the innocents who lay dead here. She had a responsibility to them, to make it back to Angel Grove, warn whoever the new Rangers were.

 

The back tunnel was smaller and darker, the walls almost at arm’s length. At some point she realized she was moving upwards: deep footholds had been dug into the rock, and she climbed upwards, bracing the wall with her left hand and right elbow, gripping the Hand Blaster tightly. In near-total darkness, it was the perfect spot for an ambush, and she listened carefully for a telltale breath or anything that might indicate a camouflaged demon was waiting for her. But still she sensed nothing around her as the mouth of the tunnel grew closer.

 

With a burst of strength, Kimberly leapt through the dimly-lit opening and immediately collided with a body as firm as steel. She toppled backwards, bringing her blaster to bear, but paused as she realized it was Justin.

 

“I found her!” Justin screamed, swinging an arm under her legs and sweeping her up. Despite herself, Kimberly let out a surprised gasp as the Turbo Ranger suddenly accelerated at an impossible speed, dashing through the corridors in a blur.

 

They halted a few seconds later, where the rest of them were waiting. Jason let out a deep sigh of relief and pulled her into a fierce hug. Then he noticed her pale countenance and looked in her eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked.

 

Kimberly shook her head. “We have to get to Angel Grove, warn the Rangers. These guys make Rita and Zedd look like Eagle Scouts.”

 

Jason nodded and indicated a massive corridor up ahead. “This place is like a maze, but I think we’ve found the way out. There’s a big stone door at the other end; if we can get it open, we might make it out.”

 

As one, the group sprinted across the corridor. Indeed, a large square slab of stone blocked their way, but it was skewed somewhat, giving it the appearance of another revolving door. Jason, Justin and Kimberly braced the side that had sunken in somewhat and pushed, straining against the rock. Indeed, it began to give way.

 

Then a spark burst next to Kimberly’s face, and she let out a cry of alarm as she realized a sharp throwing star had embedded itself a few inches from her face. They whirled around to find a woman – the Warrior – standing there with a confident smirk.

 

“Well, how convenient.” she snarled, taking a few steps closer. Her claws gleamed in the darkness, and her eyes blazed with a fierce desire to shed blood. “All the little wretches together.”

 

Jason parroted Vorpax’s moves, stepping away from the group. “Keep pushing.” he ordered, risking the briefest glance at Kimberly. “Get them home.”

 

Without another word, Jason dashed forward, leaping up into a spinning kick that caught the Warrior off-guard. Her head snapped back and she spun around, but instantly regained her bearing, brandishing her claws as a growl rose up in her throat. Jason took a defensive stance, calming his racing heart. He didn’t have to beat her, all he needed was to distract her long enough for the others to get away.

 

Vorpax moved like lightning, lunging in and jabbing her fists at him, hoping to impale him on her talons. Jason dodged right and left, batting the blows away as they came. A wide sweep grazed his cheek, and Jason let out a choked gasp as a few drops of blood spattered against the wall. His blood.

 

“I have waited long enough to fight in single combat.” the Warrior smirked, circling her prey warily. Out of the corner of his eye, Jason could see the stone slab move even more. Rocky, Tanya and a semi-conscious Billy were adding their weight… a bit more and they’d be able to slip through the gap. All Jason had to do was keep Vorpax busy.

It was time to go on the offensive.

 

Whirling around, Jason aimed a vicious backhand at her face. She blocked the blow effortlessly, but left her midsection wide open, and Jason took full advantage, driving a quick two-punch combo into her unarmored stomach. Any concerns he had about hitting a woman vanished as his knuckles seemed to connect with solid steel, even though that part of her body was only covered by cloth.

 

Rather than back away, as Jason had expected her to, Vorpax dashed forward, raising her leg up sharply and kicking him in the chin. As his head snapped back, she spun a roundhouse kick into his stomach. Again the claws lashed out, but this time they connected, raking bloody gashes on his upper arms. Jason slammed against the wall, but immediately tilted his head to the right to avoid being speared. The Warrior’s talons dug into the rock nearly to the base of the claw weapon, and the former Red Ranger took the advantage for all it was worth, pummeling his opponent’s face and stomach with rapid punches and landing a drop-kick to her chest that sent her sprawling backwards, losing her grip on the claw.

 

The sound of grinding stone caught his attention, and he realized to his elation that the door had slipped open enough for Tanya to slip through. She was pulling Billy through the gap, with Rocky right behind her.

 

The Warrior noticed, and let out a growl of frustration as she discarded her other claw. Ignoring Jason, she dashed towards the escaping Rangers. But Jason reacted quicker, tackling Vorpax mid-stride and dragging her down to the floor.

 

“Jason!” Kimberly screamed as she started to run towards him.

 

“NO!” he screamed, waving her away as he tried to pin Vorpax down. “GET THEM OUT OF HERE! GO!”

 

For a moment, Kimberly was torn between following a frantic Justin or going to save her former leader. But the decision was made moot a moment later when Vorpax swung her legs up, reversing their position. Moving with impossible grace, she rolled to her feet still clutching Jason’s shirt. With a powerful swing, the Warrior hurled Jason against the rock front while simultaneously drawing a small blade about the size of a ring finger from its sheath at her waist.

 

In one fluid move, Vorpax pinned Jason to the wall with a forearm across his throat, and stabbed the knife into the side of his neck.

 

Kimberly’s mouth dropped open in a soundless scream, her Blaster clattering to the ground as a stream of crimson blood gushed down Jason’s shoulder, a few drops dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. His eyes were wide, lips parted as he weakly grabbed at the Warrior. But she merely sneered and withdrew the blade, folding her arms as he crumbled to the floor still clutching at his violated neck.

 

“J... Jason...” the ex-Pink Ranger stammered, her eyes still wide in disbelief. Why wasn’t he getting up? Had Vorpax knocked him out somehow? It didn’t matter, she had to save him…

 

An arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back. “Kim, come on!” Justin yelled. “He’s dead! We have to get out of here!”

 

“He’s not dead!” Kimberly screamed, even as his superior strength dragged her helplessly towards the exit, away from her motionless friend. “You don’t understand! We can’t leave him here! Stop!”

 

But her protests were drowned out as they passed through the doorway, and Justin fired a blast into the ceiling that caused a tumble of rocks to block the door.

 

They ran again, as swiftly as possible, none of them daring to think of anything but escape. They could hear demonic howling echoing behind them, but there were no more surprises once they passed the revolving door: a cavernous hall led straight to a massive iron gate, unlocked and swung open. Beyond it they saw a plain of dark brown rock, stretching out towards the horizon. The sky was black and starry above them.

 

Kimberly’s mind was on automatic; she pushed all thoughts of her leader’s death (he’s dead, oh God, he’s really dead, she killed him) out of her mind as they raced past the gates and out into the open. At least now they’d have a better chance of escaping…

 

She didn’t even realize anything was wrong until her feet no longer touched the ground. Then the cold hit her in one solid blow, more chilling than anything she’d ever known. Her breath caught in her throat and she gasped for air, before realizing there was none to be found. And as she floated upwards, away from the ground, the most horrific realization of all came to her.

 

They were in space. In a vacuum, spinning slowly and silently. She caught sight of her friends frantically grasping for handholds, but there were none to be found, no surface they could cling to.

 

It was so cold… her lungs burned from lack of air. Once again she opened her mouth and tried to take a deep breath; nothing came.

 

So this was it. This was how she was going to die. Somehow she always knew it would be like this, even when she left Angel Grove.

 

As her eyes drifted shut, Kimberly was sure she saw five shining lights soaring towards them: blue, red, pink, yellow and a bright black. She faintly reached a hand out to them, but it was too late:  in moments they faded away and disappeared, along with the rest of the world.

 

I’m sorry, gang, she thought mournfully as she spotted Earth, so very far away. Good luck…

 

*   *   *

 

“What’s taking so long?” the Sorceress scowled, pacing back and forth. “The Balar have truly become lax, if they cannot capture a group of pathetic Earth children.”

 

“They are free.” Eressea replied, both hands pressed against the sides of the Obsidian Eye, which was churning and bubbling. “Beyond our grasp, now and forever.”

 

Xanthe’s ruby-red eyes narrowed; she had no patience for the Seer’s cryptic prophecies. “Say what you mean.” she growled, but it was fruitless: the young blond girl was already absorbed in a new vision, swaying slightly from side to side.

 

A rustle caught Xanthe’s attention, and she whirled to find the former Red Ranger – Jason something or other – standing before her, eyes glaring right through her. The Sorceress quickly prepared a spell to strike him down, but it was not necessary; a moment later he toppled to the floor, limp and lifeless. And behind him, smirking in satisfaction, was the third member of the Triad.

 

“He put up a good fight. His people should provide much sport, if they are all as he is.”

 

Xanthe wrinkled her nose at the bloody corpse. It would have been better had the boy been taken alive, but it didn’t really matter. She had grown weary of interrogating the stubborn cattle, and she had learned enough to give them a direction. Granted, it would take longer without the prisoners’ aid, and she was well aware that Zedd and the Rangers of Earth had discovered their presence. But the boy had been chosen by Zordon, and Vorpax had dispatched him easily enough. How much harm could they possibly cause without the aid of that foolish old Eltarian?

 

“It’s time.” the Sorceress announced as she gazed out the balcony into space. A white moon was slowly growing larger in the distance; they would place it between themselves and the Earth, to block any direct assault upon the citadel. Beyond the moon they saw Earth, a blue-and-green world teeming with life. But it would not be so for much longer.

 

“Is this necessary?” Vorpax asked. “Eressea has already started scrying.”

 

“We cannot tarry” was the Sorceress’ reply. There was no need to explain further; without new spawning pits, they could not replenish the ranks of the Balar. Their advantage was in surprise, not in numbers. Turning away, Xanthe reached for the bowl she’d placed on one of the shelves. When Vorpax saw it, she immediately dropped to one knee, though Eressea remained standing: she had never been required to kneel before Him. Carefully, Xanthe gripped the bowl in one hand and drew her ceremonial dagger in the other as she came to stand beside one of the burning braziers. As she murmured an incantation, the Sorceress dipped the blade into the bowl, coating it with a black fluid: the blood of the Void, of the Black Spirit made flesh.

 

Seiza jai n’hast gai…” Xanthe whispered, holding the stained blade out over the fire. “Seiza jai n’hast engai…

 

The blood pooled at the tip of the blade and fell into the fire in two fat drops. The flames changed color, becoming ebon-black in color. With a gratified smile, Xanthe reached into her pelt top and removed two small crystals.

 

“Vanu’esh, kasar da-reem… vadra’esh…” she murmured as she cast them into the flame. A burst of energy leapt up from the brazier, and when it faded the fire had returned to its natural color; but hovering above them were two grotesque creatures, vaguely orb-shaped masses of flesh, covered with baleful yellow eyes.

 

“Seekers.” Xanthe grinned maliciously. “Find the Dragon Coin. Scour the world if you must, but its location shall be known to us.”

 

The demonic Seekers gave no indication that they heard Xanthe, for they seemed to have no ears. Nonetheless, they quickly spun around and zipped off towards the blue globe in the distance, moving with unnatural speed and agility.

 

The Sorceress permitted herself a quick, victorious laugh as she remembered the words she’d spoken to Jason earlier. Yes, Earth would be the start of a new Inferno, and the flames of Chaos would spread across the universe, extinguishing all life.

 

The End