Deep within the Earth's crust, something stirred. It opened one eye, staring around at the walls that kept it prisoner. The last time it had seen surface was before the dinosaurs had perished. Now, darkness and dreams kept it company as the bonds kept it sealed.

It should have slept longer than this. The bloodbath that would have broken one Master free and weakened the bonds of those stronger was still prophesied to be a few years off. Why was it awake now? It had purposely tried to sleep until then to keep from going mad... -der. What could have possibly awoke it?

That was an annoying feeling. It felt as if something was pulling upon the power it used to wield. However, it was a mere prickling, five pinpricks as if it was the ants crawling and biting at its legs. But what could possibly know how to tap into that power, even in such small quantities? And in return, it felt a tiny prickling of the power it now could tap into being used, as if against the other.

Perhaps this was the reason it woke. If this happened often, then the annoyance alone would wake any being. It stretched its wings, the deep black of the feathers brushing against the stone. How troublesome. And now it wouldn't be able to return to sleep, not until this prickling stopped.

What had induced the sensation? Had, perhaps, the witch been released from her own prison? There was no prophecy claiming when she would be sealed or released, and was up to the whims of fate. Or perhaps the mortals above the grave had finally tapped into the true side of their nature, slinging spells about. It could feel them moving above it, more of them stomping on the Earth than it thought possible.

... could it possibly influence the mortals above within that grove? That would make its release much easier if the humans were bound for damnation or even dead. Moral mortals were some of the worst enemies to go up against, but if they had fallen prey to the darker side of what made them, well then. A horrible smile crossed the inhumanly beautiful face. The creatures of the one that cast it aside would be easy to influence, even with the five that could use the opposite power.

It wasn't as if it had anything else to do.

SALIGIA

Episode One: Lead Me Not

By Amaranthe, Original Concept by Saban

It had been a really productive day. The newest charity to reach Angel Grove, one designed to fight breast cancer, had been picked up by the five most well known activists in the town. Many of the residents couldn't understand it, but one smile from Kimberly or a manly pat from Jason had them signing up to help out. At the same time, though, it wasn't as if the residents minded. It was for a good cause, after all.

In the single day, more than half the residents of Angel Grove signed up for the walk against breast cancer, and a quarter more than that had donated to the cause. The amount of money they had just sent off boosted their spirits, making the bags under their eyes and exhaustion pulling at them disappear.

"So, I was thinking," Kimberly started, playing idly with her straw, "that this walk totally falls between events for all of us. I have a meet the next week and- hey, when's that tournament again?"

"It's the week before, right, man?" Zack lightly slapped Jason's back, carefully aiming above the bruise he knew was there. Even while morphed, being tossed into a brick wall's corner hurt. They were just lucky that morphing armored them enough that the toss didn't break his back.

The Red Ranger just nodded. "I might have something to do with my family that day, though," he added. "They haven't really made any solid plans yet."

"Well, why don't they come to the walk too? I mean, it's a perfect family event."

Zack looked like he had been hit over the head with Kimberly's idea and realized it was made of solid gold. "Yeah! They could come, walk with us... it'd be great."

"Maybe. I'll let my dad know, see what he thinks."

The Pink and Black Rangers smiled at that, the smiles turning rueful as two bumbling punks entered the Angel Grove Youth Center. The exaggerated swagger of an already over-the-top performance told everyone in the center that Bulk and Skull had found another thing to exploit and would eventually fail at. "What do you think it is this time?" Jason asked, the amusement already peeking into his voice as the two boys sauntered over to the bar.

"My bet's a new way to make money. Kim?"

"You totally know it's a new way to pick up girls."

"You never know, they could be trying both."

The three of them laughed, imagining what sort of plan those two came up with that would purposely include both. "What's so funny?" came the calm voice of Trini, followed by the lithe figure sitting down at the table with her own smoothie. Her eyes tracked their gaze to the swaggering figures. "Ah. That explains the flower truck outside."

"Flowers?" Zack lifted an incredulous eyebrow. "I have to admit, never heard that one before."

"Neither have I. I can't imagine it taking off, much less for Bulk and Skull."

"I don't know," Kimberly piped up, removing her lips from her straw. "I could see it. Flowers are really romantic, and with the right kind of guys, it might be really popular."

"I think you hit it," Trini responded, amused. "The right kind of guys. I don't think that's Bulk and-" There was suddenly a loud crash from outside the center. Not even a single thought went through the teen's heads as they dashed out, their worry that it might be Rita's minions and someone would be hurt overriding higher functions.

What met them was a whirlwind of color and petals, a crashed car into the flower truck. The choked noise behind the four could only been the punk duo themselves, seeing their beloved scheme destroyed before it even had a chance to attempt to fail. "Is that what happened?" asked a male voice, slightly still deep within his own brain. Billy came walking up, a little confused to the flower power about. "It almost sounded like a wall had collapsed."

"Nah, just Bulk and Skull's usual schemes," Kimberly told him. "So, you two making it to the walk?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, right, Billy?" Trini smiled at the boy, though half aiming at the group. He smiled back at them, and nodded. Of course they'd be there.

---

To many, the ruined flowers and crashed cars would be a waste. A waste of good transportation and of beauty. But to some, it was inspiration. The shape of the car and truck, to facilitate transportation. A cacophony of colors, beautiful to some but nauseatingly thrown together to throw one's sight off. There was even a slight scent, of gasoline to put a mind on edge.

Perhaps, Finster mused as he molded the clay, parts of it could be explosive. With all the time in the world, he would be able to make it even stronger, faster. Better.

"Finster! Is my monster ready yet?"

Time he knew he couldn't have. They couldn't let the Power Rangers have time to rest and grow strong again. They had to constantly keep them off their guard, slipping in powerful monsters in the hopes that somewhere, one would finally defeat them for good.

When put that way, it seemed like a losing prospect from the beginning.

"In a little bit, my Queen!" He started sculpting a part that would detach from the main body, regrowing filled with explosives. His hand moved with purpose, adding details with a speed he never thought possible. It felt like something was guiding him, just out of thought, but no. He must have just gotten into the groove he thought he lost several thousand years ago. One where the workshop faded away, where Rita's planning faded to a buzz, where all that mattered was the clay in front of him and the intent poured into life.

---

As the monster took on shape, as its life was infused with will, the small prickling appeared again. Ah, so that would explain that feeling. It was too bad that these monsters were so... limited. An attack was all they were good for. If only... yes, if only there was a way to directly influence the mortals so they would take themselves out. It was one thing to watch them bleed under a well aimed strike, but it was amazing to see them die at each others hands, and believe with each death they were doing what was right as their soul darkened bit by bit. Have them lash out in hatred under the name of love.

Yes. That would be perfect to see.

The mortals of this area seemed to be rather... moral, though. Perhaps it was the influence of the bonds holding it prisoner, making the area as if the bound resident had never fallen.

Perhaps.