Happy Power Rangers Day!

This was inspired a while back by a comic I read, and was originally supposed to be a two or three chapter thing of my rambling. Then I went into a haze and 10 chapters later I'm still not finished.

So I hope you like it!


Chapter 1 - Sentai-6

The aura of the Dark Energem was enough to put anyone on edge.

Even a Morphin' Master.

Dark and heavy, the energy that the Dark Energem emitted was enough to make a person feel as if they had suddenly been submerged into ice cold water, with no way to break free.

The only ones who seemed to be immune to the sensation, were those without a trace of Goodness inside of them. Only those who submitted entirely to evil found themselves unaffected by the power, and were even able to hold it and wield its power without consequence.

That was exactly why Lady Celebrian, Morphin' Master and the Creator of the Energems, decided that it needed to be hidden.

"It will need protection," another of the Morphin' Masters had voiced when they had agreed to her plan. "Those of Sentai-6 are a strong people, but even they have their limits," he'd pointed out.

"Then…" Lady Celebrian held out her hand. In a pulse of power, another Energem appeared, floating over her open palm. The white light it gave off was bright, and washed over the group with a gentle warmth that seemed to pull them from the coldness of the Dark Energem. Everyone found themselves able to take a deep breath, having been sitting in a cold sweat even after the Dark Energem had been locked within a thick case. "Perhaps we should leave them a way to protect both themselves, and the Dark Energem," she considered, looking at the White Energem with a soft smile. "Already bonded with a dinosaur from Earth, that brave warrior's spirit has empowered the Energem, like the others that yet remain there," she said as she studied it.

"You would leave the rest of the Energems there? On Earth?" the one in black asked.

"I feel they are yet needed. Maybe not yet, but sometime in the future, their power will be needed, and I would not deprive them of the goodness the Energems may yet bring," Celebrian replied.

"Will one be enough to defend the Dark Energem? There are many out there who would seek to use such a monstrous weapon to grow even more powerful," the one in green mused, tapping the side of her helmet.

"One is all I would dare leave with it," Lady Celebrian answered, and with a flick of her hand, the White Energem vanished. "Any more, and those selfsame villains might seek to raid the planet for all of that power," she pointed out to the group. There was a quiet rumble of agreement through the rest of the Morphin' Masters around.

"Then it is decided," the one in red spoke up, his voice ever commanding. "The Dark Energem will be hidden in the protection of Sentai-6, with the White Energem remaining with it, as we would hope its' light enough to protect them all," he slammed the butt of his staff against the hard ground, and the metal thunk echoed.


"Have care," one of the other initiates, Elora, hissed to Heckyl and Bastion as she rushed by them. She clutched a cloth and small bucket in her hands, with a streak of dirt across her face. "Eidolon's on the warpath again. I hear she's petitioning Master Gaius again," she warned, already hurrying on to continue with her chores by the time they'd turned to her.

"So much for a quiet morning," Heckyl complained to the young man beside him, who looked just as disgruntled by the warning.

"Best make ourselves scarce. I hear the last initiate slow enough to get out of her path ended up in the medical bay," Bastion muttered, already tossing his broom over his shoulder. Heckyl nodded. He'd only seen the woman who worked in the lower levels of the archives once or twice, but he'd heard plenty about her.

The two hurried off in separate directions to find a quiet, secluded spot to avoid Eidolon and her ambitions. Heckyl made his way down the winding stairs, past shelves and shelves of books to find somewhere quiet that wasn't already taken by other initiates with the same idea, or those who might have sought out a quiet shadow for other reasons entirely - something he'd been unfortunate enough to stumble on more than once while cleaning.

He stopped in his tracks, when he found a tall woman standing with her back to him. Cursing under his breath, Heckyl took a step back to try and slip away, only for the woman to turn and look at him.

"Oh?" she spoke softly, rooting him in place. It wasn't Eidolon - he didn't even know this woman - but he didn't want to risk upsetting those who ran the lower sections of the Archives when he was so close to finishing his training to join them. "Cleaning, or hiding?" the woman asked with a friendly smile as she turned to him fully. She didn't look much older than him, and her curly red hair was hastily tied from her face, with wisps falling out.

"...both?" Heckyl managed to answer while keeping nerves out of his voice. She chuckled.

"I scarcely blame you. That Eidolon one is frightful," the woman gave a shudder, and Heckyl tilted his head. Something about how she spoke was strange. Even her accent was odd - she definitely wasn't from the capital. Maybe one of the smaller villages? "Well, I have work to do. Take as much time as you need," he jumped when she was already passing him with barely a sound despite the stone floors. She patted his shoulder. "And try not to touch anything," she chuckled.

"Why would I-" Heckyl stopped as he turned, finding that she was already gone. He looked around the dimly lit archives, filled with books and trinkets and all manners of artifacts, but found no sign of the woman. Clearly she knew the shadows better than he did.

Shaking his head, Heckyl approached the spot where she'd been standing, taking a look around. As he moved, a shiver ran down his spine, accompanied by a strange warmth. Frowning, he peered in closer at the two boxes at the end of the aisle, up against the wall, before stopping. "Energy fields," he murmured to himself, feeling the hum of a barrier between him and the large box on a pedestal. The box itself was locked, and there were bars as well.

Whatever was inside the box, it was far too dangerous to even consider allowing people to get near it. Heckyl winced. He was further in the archives than he'd intended on going, if he was seeing relics this strongly protected.

As he winced, however, something else caught his eye. A smaller box, sitting open with a white gemstone inside that emitted a small amount of light. That light was warm and inviting, and comforted him more than he had ever experienced.

The bang of his broom hitting the floor snapped Heckyl from the almost-trance he'd fallen into, and cursed again. He grabbed the broom, and hurried off, not willing to be caught by someone far more strict than the strange woman he'd seen before. However, even as he vanished into the shadows, Heckyl found himself looking back at the strange gemstone, wondering just what it was.


The more time passed, the more Heckyl found himself tempted to slip back down into the dark halls of the Lower Archive, to see the strange White gemstone that had offered such comfort.

Once or twice, he dared to do just that, keeping to the shadows and fleeing the moment he heard anyone. At least Eidolon was gone - killed in an explosion, they had been told - and so they weren't quite as wary as they probably should have been.

Heckyl glared down at the White gemstone, as if offended by its presence. The opposite was of course true, but that didn't mean that he didn't resent it for making him sneak down into a place that initiates like him were only allowed in to clean.

"This is the last time," he warned the gemstone, as if it could understand him. "Soon, I'll be one of them, and I won't have time for your bizarre lure," Heckyl kept his voice low, so it didn't bounce off the hard stone walls and floors. "I don't know what you are, and it can stay that way," he told it coldly.

The gemstone didn't react.

Heckyl sighed, shaking his head as he questioned - not for the first time - why he was even there. He had chores to do, and there wasn't a chance in hell that the others would cover his duties when he slipped off to do whatever it was he did.

They weren't friends; they were all after the same thing. Not that he particularly cared for friends anyway. He knew what he wanted, and friends weren't that.

'Just how many lies will you tell yourself?' Gaius' words chose to echo in his mind at that point, and Heckyl cursed under his breath. He glared at the gemstone once more for good measure, before turning to walk away, telling himself - not for the first time - that this was the last time.

The sound of pounding footsteps echoed through the stone chamber, and despite himself, Heckyl froze.

"We need to get out of here!" one man shouted, his voice made louder by the acoustics of the room.

"Coward!" a woman shouted. "You know our purpose as Archivists. We protect these relics from falling into the wrong hands!" there was fear in her voice, and it made Heckyl frown. Just what was happening that had people breaking the unspoken rule of keeping quiet?

"Gaius is dead, you fool!" the words made Heckyl go cold. "He's dead, Elder Kririah is dead, even the High Priests are dead!" the first man shouted, his voice rising with every word. "And if we don't escape, then we're-" a sound slap cut his words off.

"We stand our ground. We protect the relics, as we swore we would," another man spoke firmly. "Gather the rest and send the Initiates away. They have sworn no such oath, and I would see them lead our people into the future," he ordered. There was no fear in his voice. Only calm determination. 'Too calm,' Heckyl thought, hating how resigned this person seemed.

A hand touched Heckyl's shoulder, and it took every bit of his willpower not to scream. His hands sparked with the blue energy that came from within, and he spun around. As he came face to face with another Archivist he'd seen around before, Heckyl went red. To let his powers spark in such a way was unseemly. And to do so in front of the man known as Ishtar, one of the higher ranking members who was often with Gaius, was even worse.

"Take this," the man didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he just didn't care. Instead, he shoved a box into his hands, and Heckyl's eyes widened. It was the large box that had been protected behind the barriers. "No barrier will protect this from Lord Arcanon," the man said instead.

"Lord Arcanon?" Heckyl repeated, not knowing the name. Ishtar didn't answer, and instead pressed the smaller box into Heckyl's hand. "What are you - why are you giving me these?" he demanded, not understanding. His panic had lessened as the soothing presence of the gemstone seemed to quell his fear.

"You must protect them, Heckyl," Ishtar insisted. "Take the stairs over there," he pointed across the hall, past the towering shelves. "They will take you outside. There are ships to the North that will bear you passage off this world. Please. Protect the Dark Energem, do not let it fall into the hands of true evil," he pleaded. With that, he turned and ran off, leaving Heckyl with far more questions, and no answers.

But he had his orders. Heckyl shoved the smaller box into his pocket, for once trying to accept the strangely comforting energy that the white crystal offered, and made for the backstairs, hugging the larger box to his chest.

The winding stairs looked like they went up forever, but as he looked up to try and gauge the distance, Heckyl heard an explosion somewhere within the Archives. So powerful, it sent a tremor throughout the place, and he struggled to remain on his feet as he heard things falling from their shelves. The books fell with heavy, dull thuds, while other things shattered or bounced along the floors. He didn't dare look back.

Instead, desperately trying to ignore the yelling and screams that seemed to come from all around him, Heckyl tried to follow Ishtar's orders. His boots pounded loudly, echoing through the stairwell as he took the stairs two at a time, using his long legs to his advantage to try and get up and out before whoever - or whatever - actually reached him.

Pushing the doors open, Heckyl stopped to catch his breath, but his body chilled as he heard just how quiet things were around him. The city was usually bustling. Even here there was always chatter and the movement of crowds going by. Yet there was an eerie silence that made him shiver despite the warmth of the day.

Clutching the box close, Heckyl forced himself to keep moving, even as he heard a shriek that cut through the silence. Part of him wanted to go back; to actually help those fighting off whatever was coming for the artifacts so carefully stored and guarded. In all his time studying, he'd never heard of anyone coming for the relics to steal them, let alone killing the Master of the Archives and the Elders. He wanted to help; he knew how to fight, both with and without his powers.

But he remembered the desperation in Ishtar's voice. He remembered the words spoken by the Archivists. It was their job to protect. And he had something he'd been entrusted with.

So Heckyl kept going, even as he became aware of something tracking him. He didn't stop, even as night fell and hunger and exhaustion began to set in. He had to make it to the docks that he'd visited once as a child. Another bustling place with ships coming to and from the world.

As he saw those buildings come into sight over the horizon, Heckyl let himself breathe a sigh of relief. He was almost there.

That relief soured almost instantly, however, as he saw the thick black smoke rising like pillars around the buildings. The sight forced him to stop, his weary legs shaking as the adrenaline that had pushed him through started to fade at the sudden stop.

A low laugh somewhere behind Heckyl, however, made his heart leap into his throat.

"Enjoying my work, boy?" he whirled around, finding himself having to look up at the tall green creature that had finally caught up to him. He was massive, wearing red robes and silver spiked armour that made him look even more imposing. He towered over Heckyl, even at a distance. "You're a fast one, I must admit. The rest weren't nearly as fast as you," he considered, more to himself than the exhausted young man facing him.

"Who are you?" Heckyl took a step back, his hand going to his pocket.

"You can call me Lord Arcanon," the monster introduced himself loftily. "For however long you live. Hand over the box, boy. You've impressed me, eluding me this far, but that won't stop me killing you to get what I want. It certainly hasn't so far," he chuckled. Heckyl threw out his hand in an instant, letting the blue energy from within spill out and arc like lightning towards Arcanon.

For a moment, it seemed like the surprise attack worked. When it made contact with the warlord, it burned, creating smoke around him. Then the cold laugh echoed out from the smoke, and with a flick of his arm, Lord Arcanon cut through the power with a wave of dark energy. It slammed into Heckyl, who choked as it lifted him off his feet and threw him a small distance away.

"You people, so determined to die for a trinket you refuse to use. That you fear to use," Lord Arcanon sighed, shaking his head as Heckyl coughed, barely having managed to hold onto the case under his arm.

"I won't…let you have it! You'll never get your evil hands on this!" Heckyl vowed when he was able to catch his breath, and pushed himself to his feet. Holding the case tightly, he turned and pushed himself to run off. Lord Arcanon sighed.

"It's always the noble ones," he complained under his breath.

Finding it somewhere inside to push himself despite his exhaustion and the pain of the blow that Arcanon had dealt him, Heckyl kept running even as he reached the ruins that had clearly already been a target for Lord Arcanon.

Another blast of energy hit the ground this time, and Heckyl couldn't stop himself from crying out as he was thrown once more. He landed in a heap amidst the wreckage of what had once been a building; the case skittering across the uneven ground.

"No…he mustn't…get it," Heckyl groaned, rolling onto his back as he heard the slow, steady steps of Lord Arcanon approaching him.

"You've entertained me, that much I will admit," the warlord taunted him as Heckyl glared up at him. "It's been a long time since I've been able to enjoy the thrill of the hunt. But that hunt ends now," he spoke as he continued to walk over to the case caught amongst the rubble that Heckyl had been thrown into.

"No!" as Arcanon grew closer, Heckyl threw his hand out once more, pouring as much of his power as he could into the attack, trying desperately to force the powerful man backwards.

"Give it up, boy. You're strong, I'll give you that, but you could never hope to match my power," Arcanon pushed through the attack even as it burned at his green skin.

"I won't let you take it!" Heckyl refused, even as his power began to wane. He was just too tired; too hungry, to give a good fight. "No…" he groaned as Arcanon laughed once more.

That laughter ended abruptly, however, as both noticed the white light spilling from Heckyl's coat pocket. "What?" he breathed, staring down at it as he felt that comforting light starting to grow stronger.

"Oh? Carrying another trinket on you?" Arcanon asked, amusement in his voice. Not answering him, Heckyl pulled the case from his pocket. It opened of its own volition, and both flinched as white light overwhelmed the poor light of the early morning. "I see! So the rumours were true. There is a 13th Energem," Lord Arcanon's words didn't mean anything to Heckyl, who felt himself compelled to touch the white gemstone.

The moment his fingertips touched it, that light seemed to flood inside his body, making him go rigid as an image of a strange lizard-like creature came into his mind seemingly at random. The light then faded, and Heckyl realised that he felt rejuvenated. Able to stand, he jumped down from the rubble he'd been lying in, and stood between Arcanon and the Dark Energem.

"I won't let you take it," Heckyl vowed, holding the White Energem in his hand. As he spoke, that light covered his body, and when it faded, he found himself wearing an entirely different outfit. White in colour with gold trim and a motif that seemed very similar to the lizard creature he had seen in his mind, Heckyl found that it made him even more powerful.

"So this is the power of a good Energem," Arcanon pondered aloud as he surveyed the change in the young man who was opposing him. "It's entertaining, I admit. But you will need the power of all twelve Energems of Light to even come close to defeating me!" he vowed, throwing out his hand.

Heckyl dodged the blow this time, managing to grab the case he was tasked to defend as he moved around Arcanon's attacks. He held out his hand, intending to use his powers, but instead, a blaster appeared in his hand.

"Whatever works, I suppose," Heckyl rolled with it, slotting the Energem he still held into the blaster. It hummed as it charged up with power, and he fired that power out, hitting Arcanon with more precision than he would have expected of himself.

The power exploded as it slammed into Arcanon, enshrouding the man in thick black smoke, and Heckyl allowed himself to take a breath. In that moment, another pulse seemed to ripple through the area, and it slammed into Heckyl. It didn't throw him as far this time, as his suit protected him, but it still knocked him off his feet.

"I'm growing bored now, boy," Arcanon emerged from the smoke unscathed, and Heckyl bit his lip. Even this strange new power, making him feel stronger than he could ever have imagined, wasn't enough to do more than singe the warlord's robes. He pushed himself back up, refusing to give up, and he saw the power charging in Arcanon's hands. "Now it ends. The Dark Energem will be mine," Arcanon vowed, and fired out the attack.

As he did, Heckyl fired another shot from the blaster still in his hand. The two attacks collided, seeming at a stalemate, before creating a massive explosion, and as it swallowed Heckyl up, everything went dark.


Heckyl didn't know how he survived the destruction of Sentai-6, but he had a suspicion that it was something to do with the White Energem, as Lord Arcanon had called it. He'd been terribly injured, of course, and the people who had found him floating in space amidst the wreckage of his planet, still in that strange suit, hadn't been sure if he was going to live.

Heckyl himself wasn't sure if he was going to live. He'd failed. Completely outmatched and overpowered by Lord Arcanon, he'd lost the Dark Energem. The one thing asked of him before his planet, his home, was destroyed. He had lost everything.

Everything except the dammed White Energem.

Angry, he'd thrown the gemstone across the room that the people who'd rescued him had so kindly let him stay in. However, it only stayed there for a matter of minutes, before he'd eased himself out of the bed and limped over to retrieve it. After all, he'd been tasked with protecting it as well, and while it seemed to have been the one to protect him, he wouldn't give up.

Besides, it was the only thing left of home, bar the clothes he had been wearing. He couldn't give it up just yet.

"Twelve Energems of Light". That's what Lord Arcanon had said. Heckyl replayed their fight in his head over and over and over again, unable to forget it. Meaning there were 11 more like his own, and if he could find them, he might be able to utilise enough power to defeat Arcanon and reclaim the Dark Energem. His home might be gone, but at least he could fulfil his task and not let his people have died in vain.

Determination renewed Heckyl's will, and slowly but surely he recovered from his injuries, pulling back from the brink he'd been left on by Arcanon. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was a start.

It turned out that Lord Arcanon was well known. Those who had rescued him - a small group of Rescuers from a far-off planet known as Mercuria - even knew of him.

An ancient Warlord who stopped at nothing when the opportunity to gain more power presented itself, Lord Arcanon left nothing but destroyed planets in his wake. Heckyl was practically one-of-a-kind, having gone up against the man and lived to tell the tale. Those who did survive, only did so long enough to say who did it, before they succumbed to their injuries.

And now he had the Dark Energem, making him infinitely more terrifying and powerful than before. The team of Rescuers had never heard of the Energems, and instead directed him to try the small intergalactic law enforcement called Space Patrol Delta. They weren't a large group yet, but they were growing at a rapid rate, and might know more about such a strange relic.

Clutching the White Energem that now hung from his neck - one of the people who'd rescued him had given him some string to wear it as a pendant - Heckyl was ready to protect the White Energem, and find the rest of them to put a stop to Lord Arcanon's reign of terror.

He had to.


I hope you liked it!

Let me know what you think!