A/N: Just an idea I really wanted to write, even though I know I have too many already. None of the original characters will be featured, as this takes place several years after the events of Mystic Force, though as I haven't seen the show in a few years, there will probably be some discrepancies, though I'll try and explain everything as best I can. Enjoy!
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A large clearing, not far from Briarwood, would become the last known location of the Mystic Force Rangers. A woman in a white suit, Snow Staff in hand, stands at the center of the clearing, thick white lines spreading out from her kneeling position as she chants rapidly, the end of her staff buried in the ground, the epicenter of the magic circle being formed around her. Meanwhile, all around her, carnage reigns. A surprisingly even battle, considering the vast numbers of monsters encroashing upon the clearing, nonetheless held at bay by a warrior in crimson armor, his saber flashing as it cuts down one, two, three at a time from the sheer force of his swing, a dozen across the clearing falling to a cry of "Wolf Attack" every so often.
However, no one, regardless of how powerful, can stand against such an army alone, and as the monsters withdraw slightly, pulling back before another wave attempts to overwhelm him, the fatigue makes itself obvious in the slowly drooping angle of the sword, the faint trembling of the shield, and the gasping breaths as he struggles to remain on his feet, buying time for his two living comrades to complete their missions.
"Zane, it's nearly done! Just hold them off a little longer!" the white ranger says, panting slightly between words as her own exhaustion sets in. 'Now where's Derrick? he shouldn't have taken this long...what if he...no, he will make it! ...I hope...' Such a spell had never been attempted before, only planned in theory, and she was beginning to see why. The sheer amount of energy alone was staggering; if Derrick hadn't charged the bulk of his energy into her Snow Staff beforehand, she might not have managed it at all. But even worse, the length of the spell ensured that what little energy she was able to regenerate was quickly spent.
Zane, the warrior in crimson armor, stood guard before her, carefully observing the swarm surrounding the two on all sides. He tensed briefly as he felt a light pressure against his elbow, before realizing it was merely his companion, reaching out for comfort - comfort for both of them. She was always the most magically powerful of the trio, where Zane was the strongest, and Derrick was the fastest, resulting in each of their respective self-assigned missions. To create the portal, to defend the portal...and to retrieve the stolen Mystic Morphers, taken from the slaughtered, inexperienced youths who had been chosen in a moment of desperation by the three caretakers, though now only the caretakers themselves world had fallen to darkness, and to the best of their knowledge, they were the only free humans left alive. The morlocks had risen, the Master ruled the earth, and his generals were spreading their domination to the few isolated corners of the earth they had yet to control entirely.
They both tensed, her with worry, him with adrenaline and fury, as the seemingly endless swarm started to press just a bit closer, though a commotion to their right caught the attention of the rangers and morlocks alike, as a streak of gold and blue carved a path through the monsters, panting, if anything, even harder than his companions, who felt their second wind as they realized the identity of the man. In a desperate run, he met them, turning to present his back to his fellow rangers, brandishing his weapon at their foes, whispering to his allies, "I have them, all five. Is the spell ready?"
"Almost," she replies, pumping the last of the energy needed to fuel the spell into her staff, and then to the circle. At opnce, the lines seemed to grow deeper and brighter, carving themselves into the ground even as their light reached up, blinding the rangers and morlocks. However, the rangers moment of victory could only take a tragic turn, seconds before they would have been whisked away to safety.
With a horrendous bellow, one of the Master's most feared new generals swept through the tide of lesser creatures, shoving and killing those who were too slow to get out of his way. With another roar, his raised a blade high over his head, ignoring the light of the raw magic scorching his body beyond repair, and he brought it down with more force than any human could dream of wielding. Derrick was frozen with shock at the fact that he even made it through the racing waves of energy, too tired from donating so much energy to this very effort, as well as his fight and mad dash to retreive the Morphers. He could only stare in horror at the bloody stump that used to be his closest friend's right arm. He barely registered the scream of agony, fury, and sorrow from the man as his eyes met the widened, dying eyes of the woman who had become so close to them both over the years, her suit gone as the life left her body, the monster's sword having cleaved through her shoulder, and straight to her heart. It was little consolation that within seconds, the killer disappeared as pure energy washed over him, an unintended passenger in the preset conditions of the spell, and everything went white.
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Naruto was happy. At least, as happy as he could be under the circumstances, having just learned an amazing new jutsu, and been made a genin after all. In the darkness, he thought about all that had happened, and how tomorrow he was supposed to meet his new sensei. So distracted by these thoughts, he almost didn't notice the shambling figure walking towards him, and didn't hear the frantic mumbling until he was close enough to see the blood soaked arm across his stomach, the appearance in the dim light making Naruto's stomach turn slightly.
"Uh, hey mister, are you alright?" No response. Eyes narrowing slightly, Naruto decided to do what he did best - rush headlong into the situation. He ran up to the man and grabbed his arm, opening his mouth to ask again, though he stopped when he realized the stranger had been clutching a stump. He panicked, and half pushed, half dropped the man onto the ground, trying to listen to the seemingly incoherant ramblings. He reached up and pushed the damp bangs of dark hair, most likely soaked with the cold sweat that seemed to cover the man's body, and stared at the equally dark eyes, and realized he was probably in shock, or something similar.
"Don't worry mister, I'll get help!" Naruto said as he created a clone, which immediately ran off to find the Hokage. As he turned back to look at the strange man again, Naruto felt a grip like iron close around his forearm, wincing for a moment at the tightness of the fist, and stared with wide eyes as the man now showed a desperate focus, a face contorted with pain and concentration, dark eyes staring into blue, and Naruto felt an odd sensation on his arm. He looke down, and felt even more surprised as a mix of red and purple energy seemed to be flowing from the man into Naruto, the aura around the stranger quickly growing thinner, and as the aura finally disappeared entirely, so did every sign of life in the bloodied man. His grip finally relaxed, eyes now completely vacant, and jaw slackening in the way only a corpse can manage, and Naruto suddenly felt pain. Blistering, agonizing pain, his world turning to white as he collapsed, falling to his side, losing consciousness just as he heard his name being called, the Sandaime running towards him, ANBU in tow.