A/N: This story takes place after Old Friends, New Threats and co-currently with The Long Road to an Old Friend, and The Rescue.
The Tyranno Slayer stabbed his blade directly through the Tyrannodrones chest. The robotic creature sparked a few seconds as its electric life leaked away and it became a hollow hunk of metal.
The warrior paid its demise no outward attention instead, he cut down another one of its kind with swift precision.
Littered around him were countless others, all dead. He had been mindlessly fighting for the last few hours.
It was one of the only sports keeping him sane.
When he wasn't in the heat of battle the feelings would return. The lingering guilt would settle in his chest and fester, grief and horror too.
It felt as if his very existence was slowly being torn apart.
It was the Other. The one that had formerly been a clone of Trent Mercer. It was growing restless.
"Impressive," Drakkon said as he stepped into the room. "But maybe you could destroy something that isn't going to do my hard labor."
The Tyranno Slayer growled in response. Surprisingly the action had come from the will of Conner.
"Why don't you step up?" The warrior asked.
"Me?" Drakkon asked with a grin. "I don't have the energy to waste on that."
Tyranno Slayer tightened his grip on his blade. A part of him hated Drakkon.
And he didn't know which.
Trent knew that if he spent another night in his empty house he was going to lose his mind. It had been a little over a week since Hayley had left with the Zeo Rangers to find Kat, and in that time life had slowed to a horrible crawl.
Trent stood at the door, frozen with fear. He didn't even know what he was doing.
He looked down both ends of the narrow hallway and knocked.
At first, there was silence.
So he knocked again.
"What do you want?!" A voice called out. "It's two in the damn morning!"
"It's me," Trent said loudly enough to penetrate the wood door.
There a few seconds of nothing.
"Come on in," The voice called back.
Trent stepped into the hotel room to find Eric Myers in basketball shorts and a plain shirt. It looked surreal compared to his normal attire, but it would be far weirder for him to be lounge around in his uniform.
"So what do you need champ?" Eric asked from the plush hotel couch.
"It's been quiet," Trent said out loud, "I can't stand it."
Eric nodded, "Sometimes it's the worst. When you're fighting you don't have to think. When everything dies down you actually have to deal with things."
"Well, how do you do it?" Trent asked.
Eric held up his can of beer, "I find a way."
The two sat in a festering silence, but if Trent was being honest it was still a whole lot better then when he was alone.
"Just breathe," Eric said with his eyes closed.
"Huh?"
"You're a Power Ranger, and eventually something is gonna try to rip your head off. So you just gotta breathe when you can." Eric reached into his mini fridge, pulled out another beer and held it out.
"I-I'm not old to drink."
"Well I'm not going to tell anyone," Eric said with a shrug, "it'll be a secret between us Sixes."
"Sixes?"
"Yeah. Sixth Rangers like us gotta stick together."
"My team doesn't even have six Rangers," Trent said.
Eric shrugged, "Different color scheme, fancy armor, plus you tried to kill your teammates on several occasions. As far as I'm concerned that makes you as much of a sixth Ranger as anyone else."
Trent reluctantly took the beer from Eric and popped it open with a faint hiss. He looked down at it, he'd never had an alcoholic drink before.
"I was fourteen when I had my first beer," Eric said in a nostalgic voice. "It was one of the few times my dad wasn't beating the shit out of me."
Trent looked down at the fizzing liquid, he couldn't help but wonder if Anton would disprove. Not that it would even matter anymore.
The beer was more bitter than Trent had assumed it would be. In fact, it didn't taste very good at all.
"You get used to it," Eric said and sat down his empty can, "Or you just keep drinking until you don't care."
Trent forced down another gulp, "Do you think we can actually stop Drakkon? It just seems so impossible."
"Always seems like that," Eric said, "But in the end, we find a way."
"What if we can't?" Trent asked in a somber tone, "What if this is the time we lose?"
"We won't know until it's too late," Eric replied, "So we might as well fight like hell."
Somehow, despite his gnawing anxiety, and the near-crippling pressure, that answer was enough.
The night air was hot and humid, the sound of machinery bounced around the quarry. Tyrannodrones and Oozemen alike were buzzing with activity, moving large rocks and working other contraptions. From the mindless determination of the grunt workers a strange fortress as beginning to form.
Finster watched the progress with a reserved joy. Despite the joy of watching his creation form, there was no time to relish in it. Under the excitement rested anxiety.
"You must work faster!" Finster exclaimed, "Drakkon wants us finished before the end of the week."
He rubbed his hands together, watching as a group of Tyrannodrones knocked over a slate of metal and scrambled to push it back up.
"Oh dear…" Finster mumbled to himself, "If this doesn't work out I'm as good as dead."
Ivan Ooze sent an arc of purple lightning out from his finger and caused a nearby computer monitor to explode.
The last week had been nothing but generating Oozemen, and not even for anything fun, just for free labor!
Needless to say, things were getting boring.
It was then that the ancient sorcerer noticed the Tyranno Slayer sneaking around the base. The young boy was in his human form and to be up to something.
"Hey, you!" Ivan Ooze called out, "What are you doing?"
The boy shrugged, "Going on a walk."
"Great!" Ivan Ooze exclaimed, "I'll come with! I've been meaning to do some grocery shopping."
"I specifically remember Drakkon telling you to lay low until further notice," The boy replied.
Ivan Ooze growled under his breath. Despite being an all-powerful creature of destruction he still needed Drakkon, and couldn't risk getting on his bad side. "Well, what about you?"
"I'm not going out to cause trouble," Conner said with a dubious grin, "I'm just going to visit an old friend."