Episode 11, Chapter 4 – Zordon

Stuck for eternity inside the chrono-tank, the seventh essence of Zordon, the last Guardian of the Planet Earth, watched his humans carry out his mission as best as they knew how. They had grown so much in the past few hours. He knew he would never be able to tell them just how proud he was of their progress. Five young humans against the might of the Dark Dimension. The old Rangers whom Zordon had personally chosen would never have stood a chance. These were the right ones for the job. Zordon's wisdom had not failed him, after all.

He surveyed Cedar Grove. Four of the Rangers battled the Void Weed south of the river. The Yellow Ranger stood alone before Baboo inside the train, with Squatt not far behind them both. Professor Cranston raced towards the Youth Center, and Alpha 5, having just given a gun to a young man named Justin Stewart, teleported to join him. A third of downtown was completely destroyed, though most of the suburbs remained intact. Those civilians who had not yet been enslaved or killed by Rita's forces clung to the shadows as they made their escape.

And those chosen few who had received freeze guns had, between them, already destroyed over two-dozen of Rita's minions.

Bill's idea about the guns may very well save the city. Have I made the right decisions tonight? Zordon reflected. He had tried to appear confident and wise before his Rangers, but here, utterly alone in his Antarctic Command Center, he fooled no one. He was scared. His friends, those who had first journeyed to Earth with him, had died so long ago that he couldn't even remember their names. Splitting himself into seven had been a desperate act. Recruiting humans to join with his essences had been even more so. He was shunned by his kind, he knew. The moment he had split himself, his race had branded him an exile. They would never send another Guardian to help him.

If only they had known the truth. It was either split, or watch his world burn. And now he might watch it burn anyway, all because of his own silly mistakes.

Wisdom, he thought bitterly, is little use without knowledge. There is always some piece of the puzzle which I lack, and if the Rangers fail tonight, then we shall see all of my work undone by my own careless choices. What good is Wisdom on its own?

Zordon no longer recalled how long he had been on Earth. Some millions of years, at least. At that time, his kind had been at the peak of their civilization. They had long since mastered the challenges which fate had thrown them: space travel, world hunger, illness, even mortality itself. They pushed further and further away from their home world, seeking new civilizations with which to converse and share their knowledge.

That was when they first discovered Dark Matter.

Zordon himself had led a team to the primitive planet. Its reptilian inhabitants spoke of an old legend in which their hero had trapped a dragon deep underground, where it could no longer terrorize the good people on the surface. Zordon and his team had foolishly used their technology to locate a strange energy reading deep within the planet. There, they had found a black crystal, which they had taken aboard their ship for study.

Oh, if Zordon could only travel back to that day, when he had set such evil free from its terrestrial prison!

One by one Zordon saw his team change. Conversations became arguments. Arguments became fights. Fights became murders. By the time Zordon had discovered the source, it was too late: Dark Matter had escaped into the galaxy. His people knew that their own foolish prodding had been the cause for such evil. Their exploration teams morphed into protectors, assigned to one planet for so long as that planet resisted evil. Zordon chose the very planet where it had all begun, along with six of his closest companions. But upon their return, they found that Dark Matter had already made the planet its haven, the reptilian inhabitants all but wiped out and the rest of the biological population not far behind.

Theirs was a struggle that spanned millennia. The old civilization was lost, but another slowly rose to power under the gentle guidance of Zordon and his companions. One by one Zordon's companions were lost to the battle against Dark Matter, and now, on this lonely planet galaxies away from his home, Zordon's war would soon reach its climax.

Earth was my greatest mistake, but tonight it may be my redemption.

Tom Oliver's consciousness returned to his body within the city. Zordon knew the time had come. The Ranger held the White Ranger's coin in his hand and began to use it to locate the Command Center.

Zordon set to work.

What knowledge he had was stored in the Command Center's databanks. He used it now to unlock the last of the technologies at the Rangers' disposal. This may mean that the Black Ranger could access it as well, but Zordon believed that it was the right decision. His Rangers would absolutely lose without this last bit of technology from his homeworld.

May the citizens of Cedar Grove forgive me, he thought. His mind wandered to Officers Bulkmeier and Skullovich at the head of the large group of souls the Rangers had saved from the slave train earlier that evening. Several spoke in whispers, mostly the older ones who, Zordon knew, had lived in this town all their lives. "Guardian angels," they called the Rangers. "They saved us; they'll save Angel Grove."

Zordon felt a small wellspring of joy rise within his essence. He looked inside those who spoke and saw in them infinite possibilities. He could only marvel at how far these creatures had come. Here he was, a being of profound advancement, yet he had but seven aspects to himself. These humans had the capacity for anything. No two were alike, not even those born of the same womb. A million aspects within one soul.

They should have no right to hope. Their futures rest on the shoulders of five battered and broken youngsters, a professor who spends his days as an outcast within his own field of study, a homicidal robot… and me. Yet hope they do. What fools, and yet… what beauty, to face such disaster and still trust in a savior.

The shadows around the edges of the Command Center began to darken. The Black Ranger was on his way.

Zordon took one last look at his beloved Rangers. So long as they fought, part of him would always protect this planet. Humans had the potential for true greatness, he knew. There was no other species in the universe quite like them.

Laughter filled the chamber, bringing Zordon back into the present moment. The Black Ranger strode from a dark alcove looking for all the world like the battle was already won. As he stepped into the light, an immense shadow trailed behind him: Rita Repulsa.

"Greetings, Tom Oliver," said Zordon.

The Ranger leaned back and laughed. His shadow didn't move at all. "Oh don't bother with pretenses, you old puddle," said the Ranger. His voice was two: Tom Oliver's… and Rita's. The latter was much, much louder. "You know who you're talking to."

"I do, Rita."

"And you know why my puppet is here."

"I know why you send others to do your work for you, yes." Zordon felt the white Power Coin within Tom's hand. Tom had used it to get here, but it had also opened up an avenue that Zordon violently prayed he could use. "Tom," said Zordon, "Rita Repulsa is not dead. She has tricked you into evil. Do not believe her."

The shadow moved. In response, the Black Ranger slammed a fist down into a console. Sparks flew from the machine. Zordon felt a stab of pain as part of himself was severed from the Command Center. "The human is mine!" That voice was all Rita. "Don't think you can pull any of your silly tricks. My hold on him is strong."

Zordon could see that it was. Her shadow wrapped tightly around his body in all places but his left palm, where the white coin rested.

"Your hold on him is nowhere near as strong as the Dark Matter's hold on you, Rita."

"Your kind has ruled the Earth for too long," said the Black Ranger in his two voices. Tom's mouth, Rita's words. No – the Dark Matter's words. Rita was its puppet, just as Tom was hers. And Rita had no idea. Zordon pitied her, even as she forced her puppet to destroy him. "You aim to subjugate us and bend us to your own will." Tom flipped his pistol from his waist and casually fired a shot. It left a dark scorch mark in the wall. "You think you can manipulate us from your cozy little fortress."

Cozy was hardly the word for the Antarctic. Zordon and Alpha had moved the Command Center around regularly, as a safety precaution. In all honesty, the main reason Zordon had moved it here was because he was fond of the penguins who nested nearby.

"You weak, pathetic thing," the Ranger spat. "You infest the humans with yourself and your lies. You control them. You force them to give up their lives for you."

"No, Rita," said Zordon. "That is what you have done. My Rangers join willingly, while you enslave your own race."

"I am no more human than you are, Zordon. Not anymore."

"I… am sorry for what I did to you. Had I known that the Black power would attract the Dark Matter as it did, I would never have given it to you. It opened your soul to the Dark Matter, and it consumed you. Please forgive me, Rita."

I have waited ten-thousand years to say that.

The sudden change took both the Ranger and his shadow aback. The shadow collected itself before the Ranger did. "Even now you lie," said Rita's voice. The shadow twisted; the Ranger fired a volley around the room. One black bolt crashed into Zordon's tank. Zordon cried out in pain. The room flickered, warped. He saw a brief glimpse of the past, when his original Rangers had stood before him to collect their coins. How could he not have foreseen their downfall?

"It is time to end your misery," said the two voices.

"End me," groaned Zordon, "and you… sever your ties to… your own power."

The Black Ranger laughed. "You and I both know that my Power no longer comes from you. Ending your wretched existence will only strengthen me. I don't even need the energy from that train." The Ranger laughed again. "But of course, I'll gladly welcome whatever I can get!"

"My Rangers will… stop you."

"Your Rangers will die by my hand." That voice was mostly Tom's. "They will suffer for what they have done."

Zordon searched the essences within the Black Ranger. He had long watched Tom Oliver; in his youth, he would have made an ideal White Ranger, just as Bill would have made a perfect Green Ranger. Funny how fate works itself into loops and unexpected turns. But where once Zordon had seen within Tom the essences of Honor, Duty, Passion, Courage, and yes, Ambition, now he saw only Wrath, Vengeance, Lust, Ambition, Jealousy. Rita kept these at the forefront of the man's being. She was denying those other parts of him that made him who he was. This was how the Dark Matter changed people. This was how Rita had warped the old Rangers into her monstrous lackeys.

And this was why Zordon had given April the ability to see into the souls of others.

"Do what you must," said Zordon. His program finished downloading in the background. It was time.

The Black Ranger laughed and pulled a black dagger from the shadows. "Gladly," he said.

In his final act, Zordon snatched Bill Cranston out of Cedar – no, Angel – Grove and prayed to the gods of his ancient race that his Wisdom had led him true.