Chapter 14: Heir to Tradition

Trini's sensei had once told her there was a subtle joy and knowledge to be found in the repetition of nature—to treat each reoccurrence as an important part of a cycle, one to be treasured and revered.

Somehow, Trini thought bitterly. I don't think Sensei wasn't imagining the reoccurrence of getting pummeled by gigantic monsters.

"Hang on!" she shouted again, trying to prevent her Zord crushing another building as lasers sprayed from the ten battle ships zooming over the Zord's head.

"I'm sorry, when did I sign up for Star Wars?" Kira muttered, punching a few buttons and sighing in relief as the Zord corrected itself.

"How the hell can Lorvenia support this many monsters?" Trini burst out angrily. "They just keep coming—one after another. This is the tenth attack, this week! Not to mention the fact that they're attacking three others cities as we speak!"

Kira groaned as the gigantic, tentacled monster speared his barbed tentacles at their weary Zord. "Make that four!" she muttered. "Readings just came in from Sydney. They're under attack as well."

"You've got to be kidding me!" Trini groaned. "That's London, Chicago, Sydney, and Rome all a once? Who the hell has the power to sustain all those creatures at once?"

"To make matters worst," Kira muttered as she grabbed the controls. "This Octopus Freak took out our communicator. We have no way of knowing how the others are!"

Trini had a sinking feeling that their minds were in the same Zord—the last time she had checked, Zach and Trent were barreling their way through an army of Wrathians attacking London. She prayed they were okay.

A jarring lurch shook her out of her reverie, and she swore loudly. While the Coalition's blasts had seemingly subdued the monster, he was now regenerating at an alarmingly fast rate.

"Shit!" Kira groaned. "How much longer do you think we're going to last?"

"Long enough." Trini assured her, jaw clenched. "And at least we have Tommy back. That's a whole other Zord, ready to go to battle."

"Even with the Coalition's help—" Kira started, slamming her fist down on the button to launch the rockets. "These monsters aren't quitting. This Lorvenia character…she's going to be tough to defeat."

"Don't think about that now." Trini told her gently, shaking her head to clear out the image of Kimberly's face. "Focus on surviving. That's all we can do—one battle at a time."

Shaking slightly, Kira refocused her attentions on the control pad in front of her, praying for a positive outcome.

Muscles flexing and tensing in rapid succession, Tommy moved through the army of Wrathians without much consequence. Morphing had improved his strength tenfold, and with the help from about ten of the Alliance's best battle cruisers, the battle was slowly tipping in their favor.

"It's nice to have you back!" Dorian yelled from somewhere to Tommy's left. "But I could use a little more assistance—AH!"

Tommy gave a small, half-laugh as he launched a Wrathian into a building, and quickly floored another one with a swift kick, catching Dorian as he flew through the air. Setting him on the ground, he gave him a small pat on the helmet.

"Keep trying. You're getting better."

"I appreciate it."

A flash out of the corner of his eyes made his head turn suddenly, his heart immediately captivated by the small, feminine frame that was sauntering away from a quiet, hidden corner in the middle of battle.

"Kim?" he muttered to himself, narrowly dodging a near fatal blow given by a heavily armed Wrathian, and jogging in that direction.

"Tommy?" Dorian called questioningly, doing his best to hold a coherent conversation while avoiding a thick, barbed chain one of the Wrathians was now swinging.

"Hey!" Jason called out, equally as concerned. "Tommy? Where are you going?"

He did not hear their voices, his mind racing. Slamming a Wrathian to the ground, he sprang around the corner from which the evanescent form had disappeared. She couldn't be too far ahead of him. She just couldn't.

Demorphing, he set out on foot, motivated with the promise of seeing her. He approached quickly, but cautiously, relief flooding through his heart as the woman appeared in front of him.

Her walk is different. He realized. It's more rigid, more tense. There's no bounce in her step. Still, there could be no mistaking it. It was her. It must be. The light brown hair, shining golden under the sun was just as he envisioned it in his mind.

"Kim!" his heart threatening to pound out of his chest as he gained on her, and suddenly drawing up to a halt. At the sound of his voice, the figure had stopped, shoulders drawn back. He waited, a few yards away, to gauge her reaction.

"Your voice," she said, and Tommy was relieved to hear the light, tinkling notes of Kimberly's tone. True, it was more formal, a little deeper, but it was her. She was in front of him again. "She hears it and she wails and weeps."

A shiver of cold blasted through his veins, and his breath caught in his throat as she turned around. She was all there—the light brown hair, shining golden under the sun, the delicate mouth, her button nose.

But her eyes.

The warm, amber brown was gone. In its place was a solid, shining black.

"This Kimberly you speak of?" her voice spoke again, and Tommy felt the hope drain from his body. This wasn't her. He should have known better. "She strives to conceal your identity from me, to protect you. But it is futile. She has betrayed you to me—you are the Green Ranger."

"In the flesh," he sputtered, confused at the anger that rose up within him. This is Kimberly! He thought. I can't fight her!

Her impassive eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes," she said, shutting her eyes momentarily. "Oh, how she weeps. Her fear is great. The chaos, the pain. It is beautiful. You pitiful humans. Your emotions make you so weak, and yet, you refuse to see it."

"That's why you're trying to destroy us?" he hissed, his temper flaring. "Because you can't understand—"

"Can't understand?" her eyes snapped open, and Tommy suddenly felt afraid. There was a power within her he knew he could not fight. "Let me tell you something, little boy. By the time I'm done with your world, I will be the most revered character in all of history!" she paused, slowly rotating thoughts within her mind. "Not," she added. "That you'll be around to witness it."

"We'll see about that!" Tommy snarled. "But in the mean time, I'd like you to pass a message to my girlfriend. Tell her I won't stop fighting until I personally cast you back into whatever sick dimension you—"

She jerked her hand up, and Tommy flew backwards, noting how her black eyes glittered dangerously. "You are done talking!" she hissed. "You are no longer of any interest to me."

Tommy hit the wall with a groan, and sliding down, he grasp for his morpher.

"Try it!" she laughed. "Try your weak, divided powers against me. You serve the wrong master, child. He failed to stop me once before, he will fail again. I will be victorious, and I shall have my way. You will be dead within forty eight hours."

He pulled himself up, breathing heavily, face strained with pain.

"Although," she added thoughtfully. "Why prolong the inevitable?"

And raising her hand, Tommy prepared to die. Lowering his eyes, he was surprised to hear a sharp yell of pain.

"Kim?" he said again, rushing towards her figure, now doubled over in pain.

"No!" she was muttering to herself, brown eyes warm. "No, I won't let you, I won't let you! I won't!"

"Kim!" he kneeled beside her and helped steady her shaking form. "You fought her!"

"Tommy!" she gasped, her voice strained. "The prophecy! You must defeat—"

Tommy's heart gave a disheartened lurch as the shaking stop and the eyes once again became blackened. He, once again, felt his body be propelled forward by an invisible force.

"She is strong!" she sputtered, rising to her feet unsteadily. "No matter. I will break her in time. You are spared, Green One. But be warned: The next time we shall meet will be quite different."

She disappeared that instant, leaving Tommy alone in the alley, only slightly aware of the distant, victorious roars coming from his teammates.

It's clear, he thought with sudden regret. I now know what I have to do.

Shaking slightly, he made his way back towards the streets.

He made it back towards the intersection that had, minutes earlier, been preoccupied with battle. He was surprised to see a large space ship set down in the middle of it.

"Tommy!" Dorian called, waiting outside the entrance. "Billy wants you! He and Jason are already on the ship!"

Jogging forward, he boarded the ship, met by Jason and Billy's worried faces.

"Where did you go?" Jason snapped, punching him on the shoulder. "We were worried!"

"I ran into Lorvenia," he said shortly, avoiding their eyes. "And no, I don't want to talk about it."

"Is he here?" Cestria's blue form appeared in the doorway. "Oh! He is? Can we get started?"

"What's she so excited about?" Tommy muttered to Jason, who was looking at him with a shocked expression.

"You saw Kimberly?"

"Lorvenia," he corrected darkly.

Jason grimaced. "That bad?"

"Worse."

"Gentleman!" Cestria's voice was in front of them. "This way! There's someone I'd like for you to meet!"

She pulled the door open, revealing a woman with features very similar to a cat's. "This," Cestria proclaimed proudly. "Is Kat Manx. And I think you'll be very excited to hear what she has to say."

"Good afternoon, gentleman," she said, stepping forward to shake their hands. "I have been conversing with the leaders of the Alliance and the Coalition, and they are very excited with the progress of the war thus far."

Jason bowed. "Thank you. We appreciate that."

"We have full confidence you will succeed in your mission, and that the Heir will defeat Lorvenia. That is why we have begun making future plans."

"Future plans?" Tommy said, raising his eyebrows.

"You see," she began. "I am a part of a secret coalition, and much like yourselves, are a part of an ancient tradition. You see, once upon a time, on Sirius, there was something that was known as Space Patrol Delta. It was the force Lythmore worked for, and it trained the Sirians and other alien races to defend the galaxy. When Lorvenia's father, Emperor Grumm, invaded, that's when the wars of the mythology you are both well acquainted with began. SPD was ultimately defeated, but has survived in the form of other branches, all kept secret by necessity. There is one such branch on earth, one that I am a part of." She paused, clearing her throat.

"I propose that, should we successively win this war, that we attempt to reinstate SPD, by using it as both a scientific headquarters to develop new technology and a sort of police academy, to train future generations to fight the monsters that will ultimately come. So far, the results of our studies have proven that we can give human children the superpowers that are required to be a power Ranger. I'm confident that this could easily become a public organization—not only would that put you in retirement, but you would ensure the world's future survival."

"Wow." Jason said. "That sounds amazing."

"But exactly how do you plan on accomplishing all this?" Tommy said, somewhat suspicious. "And how much involvement from us will you need?"

"My old friend Anubus Cruger would happily be reassigned to earth, and would be a wonderful protector and teacher. We would, naturally, wish for you to be an active part—maybe a part time instructor?"

"You're getting ahead of yourself," Tommy reminded her gently. "The War isn't won yet."

"No, but by the time the Heir ascends—"

"We're not sure exactly what the Heir is going to do at this point," Jason said apologetically, shooting a curious look at Tommy.

Kat's face crumpled into a frown. "But he has to!" Kat said, somewhat surprised. "The entire world rests in his hands!"

"Yes," Jason said. "But it's complicated—"

"No." Tommy said, eyes straight ahead. "No, it's not complicated. She's right. We can't let this world be destroyed."

Jason stared at him, mildly shocked. "Are you saying that you're going to perform the ritual?"

Tommy looked at him, eyes conflicted in self loathing. "Yes," he said, in a voice much stronger than he felt. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

"I believe you have assessed this situation correctly," Billy told him, sadly. "To perform the ritual, you must journey out to Lythmore's temple. It is believed to be—"

"In the Carribean ocean," Jason finished. "I'll take you. Kimberly…she found it on accident." He lowered his eyes, sadness rushing over him.

So this is it. Tommy thought, to himself. I have accepted my destiny.

"You will need to prepare to travel as soon as possible. Our sensors demonstrate Lorvenia's power is rising. She will be at her prime within thirty five hours, and be able to conjure enough energy to dissipate all humanity."

"That doesn't sound good," Jason muttered.

"Essentially," Billy said, taking off his glasses to clean them nervously. "It would be the equivalent of dropping twenty nuclear bombs, all over the world. The people would suffer, their bodies deformed, and then, simply collapse. There will be chaos—nothing but pure chaos."

"That's not going to happen," Tommy spoke again, his voice stronger. "Jason, are you sure you can find it again?"

He nodded dully. "Yes." He said, his eyes distant.

"Then we leave right now." Tommy said, turning away from the ship. His mind was set. There was no way out.

"I have heard enough of your excuses!" she snapped, her black eyes glittering dangerously. Ghidor fell to his knees before her, pleading for his life.

"My Leige, you mussst try to underssstand. There are dangerousss timesss—"

"Will you deny me my glory?" she snarled, fingers tapping ceaselessly on her dark pants. She had sensed Lythmore's presence in her dreams—he was preparing himself to ascend to his vessel. Time was quickly running out.

"No, my liege!" Ghidor cried desperately, scaly face flaring in fear. "I am sssssimply advising. Our lassst three attempts have been thwarted by the Rangerssss—"

She conjured a sword out of midair, hurtling it across the room, smiling as it barely passed Ghidor's head. He cowered. "Enough of your excuses!" she snapped. "My power is quickly approaching the necessary level. We will continue with the attacks, regardless of the outcome."

"But my Liege! Lythmore—"

He was silenced, and his hands immediately flew to his throat. He turned his attentions back towards his mistress, eyes bulging.

"Misstresss!" He breathed his throat collapsing slowly. "Spare me!"

"I warned you about using that name!" she hissed, clenching her fists tightly and watching as he slowly fell to the floor, hands around his long, thick throat. "I told you never to mention his name in my presence. And yet you continue to defy me. Clearly, a lesson has not been learned!"

Ghidor's eyes were widened with fear. "I am not worthy," he choked out, bowing up and down quickly.

Sighing, she unclenched her fists, and watched as Ghidor gasped the air gratefully.

"This will be the last time I spare you," she hissed. "And only because you will be necessary to carry out the Final Plan."

"You are truly exalted, my liege! I worship you, I fall to my kneessss before you!"

"Enough!" she shouted. "Your groveling is of no use to me." She paused, clutching her stomach.

His powers. She thought bitterly. They're growing by the second.

"We're running out of time. Prepare my armies for the final battle. I want to wreck as much havoc as possible. The Rangers will be forced to defend the city, then they won't be getting in my way."

Ghidor bowed enthusiastically. "Yessss, my Leige. Where shall I ssssend the troopsss?"

She paused, her head flying to her head, trying to override the wail of despair that her vessel had sent rising up within her.

"Angel Grove." She said at last.

"And which Covenant shall I send?"

She paused, delighting as the vessel screamed with despair.

"Every single one."

"You'll have to morph." Jason told him gently, stopping the boat's motor and casting a look into the depths and remembering, with regret, the last time he had been in those waters with Kimberly. "And hang on to the stones. Lythmore will supposedly guide you after that."

"You told me that already," Tommy's voice was soft, his eyes distant.

Jason paused. "I'm sorry it had to be like this, man."

Tommy nodded, focused on the island in the distance. "This is what Kim wants. I know that. That look in her eyes, when she finally gained control of the monster. She wants us to win. She knows this is the only way." His eyes dropped to his hands, which were clenched together by his sides. "I only hope I'm strong enough to do it."

"Lythmore will be there." Jason said, patting him on the back. "All you have to do is perform the ritual."

"Yeah." Tommy said, softly. "Yeah, I guess that's true."

"Look," Jason said, dropping his eyes. "When all this Is said and done, I want you to know that I'll be here. We all wil. You won't go through this alone."

"I know, man." Tommy said. "But you can't make this better. I have to do it, I get it. But I go in there alone. I fight her alone. I kill her alone. I don't think about it because I can't, but I saw her. Kim is still in there and I won't forget that. I won't let her be trapped in her mind, letting some vengeful power rape her thoughts and memories."

Jason stared at his hands with uncharacteristic focus. "I wish we could just go back," he said at last.

"To where?" Tommy said, his voice tired. "To high school? Or childhood? Or hell, while we're at it, let's go back a million years and stop Lorvenia from being born. It doesn't matter. You can't, but even if you could—"

"We'd do it all the same." Jason finished, raising his eyes.

Tommy studied his hands, silently reflecting on the memories of each scar. "Yeah," he finally said. "We're men with destinies. All this time we've fought it, but now it's about time I've stopped. There's a plan, and we no longer have a choice."

Jason nodded, staring out into the distance. "Good luck," he finally said.

Nodding, Tommy stared into the clear, turquoise waters, preparing himself for his task.

"Thanks, man. I'll need it."

And clutching his morpher tightly, he dove into the water, barely noticing the refreshingly cool sea water.

I can't risk being distracted. He told himself, clutching his morpher. "It's morphing time!" he called out, water lapping against his face.

This is right. He reassured himself as the change began to take place. This is what Kimberly needs. You can't let Lorvenia hold her hostage.

Then why do I hate myself? A cold voice within him rang out. Why does a part of me not care about the world?

Just morph. He told himself. Morph, and perform the ritual. Lythmore will take it from there.

The transformation complete, he suddenly felt himself amidst a swelling whirl pool.

"Relax!" He heard Jason's voice call. "This is part of the ritual. Just make sure you hang on to the stones!"

He clutched the bag in his now gloved hand, a sense of dread washing over him.

Slowly, surely, the water gently pushed him below the surface, swirling in gentle waves. Before he knew it, he was under water.

A calm washed over him, and he realized he was in the temple.

Be at peace, my child

I am at peace, Master, he recited without meaning to.

Have you brought the jewels I have entrusted my being within?

I have.

Put them forth on my alter.

In a swoosh, the water around him vanished, pushing up five feet above his head, a traslucent cathedral ceiling. Looking around, he realized he was in the temple.

It was quite an impressive sight—massive stone tablets, each full of writing in a language Tommy could not recognize. The temple had been constructed out of six slabs of stone—five smaller ones, and one larger one. Each slab had a portrait etched on it: Trini, Zach, Jason, Billy.

Kimberly.

And his. His stood in the middle, contained within the largest slab. And around it, were six, hollowed circles.

Stepping forward tentatively, the boots of his suit clicking over the slicked, wet rock, he opened the small bag, removing the stones one by one and replacing them within the hollowed circles. Upon finishing, he stepped back, falling to his knees without thinking.

Prepare your mind, my Son. I ascend to you now.

And closing his eyes, Tommy fell unconscious as six flashes of light bounced across the cave, encircling him, and finally, conjoining together and thrusting, as one, into his heart.

He was alive.

Millions of years spent in disembodied, frantic energy currents, floating in impatient guilt melted away and solidified in front of his eyes.

His eyes. He could see again! True, this body was foreign to him, but he had expected that. The Great Power had revealed so much to him, for which he would be eternally grateful. He would fight again, in this brazen vessel. He would face her again, and pray that his hope was not misplaced.

He looked around him, at the temple he had ordered to be built in his name, staring at the faces he himself had etched into the walls. He had dreamed of their faces for years before he had truly understood who they were—children who would happily inherit a tradition of power they would spend years trying to fathom; wonderful beings who would bring salvation to the world.

His eyes caught on the face of the girl, an dhte Vessel's heart lurched.

Save her the voice within him pleaded.

"Ah, yes." He utilized his human voice now, tingling with pleasure as the worlds reverberated off the walls, tickling his tounge with amusement. "Kimberly Hart. Lorvenia's Chosen One."

I love her. Please save her.

A sadness grew within Lythmore's new form. It was the saddest truth of all, the saddest recognition one could encounter, realizing they must destroy the one being you love most. "I will spare her if I am able." He spoke gently. "But beware: Lorvenia is strong, her power building for centuries now. I can feel her rising up within me, through the connection we share within our souls…or what's left of hers. The battle must come soon—no matter what the outcome, we must fight her." And stretching his arms out to the glittering surface above him, he flexed his knees, and hurtled towards the surface.

Memories, snippets of conversation tore through Hayley's mind, causing her to turn with restlessness.

We're so close, so very close. I can feel it.

According to Billy's report, Tommy would have completed the ritual by now, wouldn't he? How close was he to the final battle?

We're missing something. Something huge. Something about the language, the nuance of language—

And then, and epiphany.

The words tore through her mind in a rapid blur:

"That's the beauty of language. Every little nuance, every little punctuation or capitalization can mean something if you need it to. It's controllable, interpretable. There's a million different possibilities that each contains, and if you find one that works—well, it's quite thrilling."

"Well, you see, the meaning changes over time. What something means today is not necessarily what the author intended it to me two hundred years ago. Sometimes, you have to put it into context."

"Essentially, each number in their system essentially means something."

"Maybe fate had a whole other message, and he just couldn't understand it. Maybe he wasn't strong enough to heed its call."

. "Obviously, the Islanders did not possess this form of communication. Instead, they devised a method to help convey the message."

Hayley's eyes snapped open.

That's it. She realized, adrenalin coursing through her veins. We were missing something.

Jason scanned the surface nervously, waiting for any sign of Tommy's arrival.

Or, is it Lythmore's? he thought, his brow furrowed in confusion. His life was getting more and more complicated—he was pretty damn sure he didn't appreciate it.

He jumped up, almost losing his footing as the boat rocked from side to side, as Tommy surfaced with a splash.

"Did it work?" he asked hastily, reaching out for a hand to pull him back in the boat.

"Ah, yes," Tommy's voice said, his head lowered as he climbed in the boat. "The Red One. I recognize your voice." Jason gasped as Tommy lifted his head, revealing eyes that were completely white.

"Lythmore," he gasped, falling to his knees involuntarily.

"Arise," he said simply. "We must get to Angel Grove. The final battle has arrived."

Lifting his face, Jason felt his heart lurch.

This is it. He thought, as he prepared to morph.