Since the beginning of recorded history, mankind has always strived to better itself. It has always strived for progress, but most of all, it has strived for Power. It is this thirst for power that caused men to give rise to the first evils of Earth. That which followed became known as the first conflicts between good and evil. It soon became a Symbiotic balance, this continuing struggle between the two. However, many great philosophers have suggested that it should in fact NOT be regarded as a "struggle", as the use of the word "struggle" suggests "a battle with an outcome positive to one side". These great minds have suggested that this could not be further from the truth, as the balance of good and evil is as natural an occurrence as wind in the valleys. No matter which school of thought one may subscribe to; there is no denying the fact that this balance is still continuing to this day. There is, however, one man who believes that the cosmic balance IS a struggle. He is a man with the improbable name of Rocky- Rocky De Santos, to be exact. However, his name is not something that weighs heavy on his mind anymore, as he has far greater fears deep within his soul. This man - Rocky - was chosen to be a guardian of Earth when he was still a child, gifted with great power and even greater responsibility. He was chosen to be part of a team- a team of heroes who's tales of battle where well known throughout the ages. He was a Power Ranger.
Rocky's eyes were heavy. He was tired. he was always tired, but recently, his fatigue was getting the better of him. Matters where not helped by the fact that he had drank nearly six bottles of cheap Spanish beer. He didn't even like the taste of it, bitter and foaming. Yet he felt it was what he was SUPPOSED to do. He knew that when people were down or unhappy, they were supposed to isolate themselves, and only in this isolation could they drink themselves into a stupor. He had seen it on TV a hundred times- it was even present in the neighbourhood in which he grew up. He didn't like it, deep down he knew that. He didn't like knowing he was self destructing, and that his own frustration of this fact was preventing him from doing anything about it. It was a vicious circle, that was one thing he knew. It was the only thing he knew anymore. So much had happened to him in the last eighteen months. He cast his eyes out over the water as it lapped against the shore, moonlight reflecting in the distance. Sitting on the roof of his uncles old log cabin, he tried to clear his mind. Such a thing was not easy, especially as he was not exactly sober. His thoughts drifted, hazed and washed. He couldn't focus his train of thought well, until he remembered her face. His thought became clearer, intense. He was regaining control.. he remembered something.. that face... her face.. that was it. The face, staring up at him, arm outstretched. Everything came flooding back.
"She shouldn't have been there.." he thought, searching for reason, for justification. "No... she was too close... I didn't have time.. I told here to get away.." He couldn't remember much of what happened after that, and what he could remember was muddled.
It was a fight he could have never hoped to win. Something strong, a demon.. a monster. He had been foolish to take it on, especially as he was so unprepared. It was beating him, he was losing power... losing consciousness. Suddenly, a rip... something had been ripped from his body. He began to surge with electrical static, the Morphin Grid no longer capable of protecting his body. He demorphed, he was thrown to the ground, in the dirt.
"That was it... that's how it started..", he mumbled, as he closed his eyes as he remembered what happened next.
It was the only thing he remembered perfectly, clearer than anything he could remember before or since. Laying in the dirt, he twisted he head around to see what the creature was doing, what it was going to do to him. It was metres away.. turned from him, approaching her. She was on the ground too, crawling backwards as the monster advanced.
"No... don't..", he thought wearily. He could see what had been ripped from his body in the battle- it wasn't a limb or skin or hair... it had been his morpher. The morpher now lay between the monster and the terrified figure of a young woman.
It was clearly damaged, cracked in places and now buzzing with electricity. She saw it- she recognised and she knew what to do with it. She wasn't a brave girl, but she knew this was her only chance. She grabbed the buzzing morpher which lay at her feet and pushed past the horned arms of her attacker. She began franticly crawling towards Rocky as he lay in the dirt, but in her panic, she found herself unable to move quickly at all. The creature spun around instinctively and grabbed her by her hair, and she screamed in pain. It laughed at her, tugging on her hair harder. It saw the morpher in hand, and simply grabbed it from her clenched fist. She tried to resist, but it was of no use. She turned her head to face Rocky, terror in her eyes. She knew it was going to kill her. This was it. She was going to die. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she met Rocky's gaze. Rocky summoned up all the strength he had left to get to his feet and began to stumble towards her, to no avail. He tripped over himself, and once again fell face first into the dirt. She screamed his name, and outstretched her hand to reach him as the morpher exploded, vaporising the monster and his captive. Rocky was blasted into the air and blown backwards by the force of the blast. Flames danced around him, he was burned and blackened by the explosion. He slowly looked up, only to be met by a large flaming crater where the monster had been. They were both dead.
Rocky woke with a start. He eyes flashed open and his body jerked. He had been asleep, yet he could not remember going to bed- not that he had even made it to bed. As usual, he had slept on the recliner in the main room of the cabin. He sat up wearily. The sun was beginning to shine through the windows and illuminated the dozen bottles of beer on the table. Some lay on the floor, with their labels removed. He looked around, and surveyed the room. The darkness of the shadows and the smell of the room filled him with self loathing. He hated what he was becoming. He was so powerless. He had been powerless to save Elaine, and he was powerless to save himself. He hadn't always been this way. Once, Rocky went to school with three friends in a Californian town called Stone Canyon. Circumstances took place in which the three of them were transferred to the neighbouring town of Angel Grove, and it was there that his life changed forever. He discovered the identities of the Power Rangers- they were teenagers, just like him. He even went to school with them. And it even when the time came to choose replacements for the Red, Yellow and Black Rangers, he became one of them. It was euphoric for him. The power, the weapons, the zords... he was a real life superhero. They went on many adventures, travelling to different planets and dimensions, and even travelling through time. When their powers were lost, they went on quests to find shards of the Zeo Crystal- an object of infinite power. He became an even stronger Ranger.. almost invincible. The feeling was addictive, every morph was a rush for him. He would do it forever- he would sacrifice his human life for this, to chase evil throughout the galaxy. However, such things don't always go the way we want them to. He was injured.. badly. For a while, there was talk that he may never even walk again. Thankfully, things turned out okay for him. The build-up of morph residue in his system meant that he, like the other Rangers, had a higher tolerance for injury. However, as he was unable to fulfil his duties as a Power Ranger, his position on the team was replaced. This hurt him more than any spinal injury could. Being a Ranger was the one thing he was ever any good at, and now his future was uncertain. Time passed, the new Blue Ranger was accepted into the team. Rocky couldn't return to the fold.. he couldn't face them, especially as they could find a replacement for him so easily... and that replacement was a child. He had lied his way out of it. He was hurting. He left Angel Grove soon afterwards. But it wasn't the last he would see of that weird city.
Two years later, things started to change. He was sleeping as well as he ever could, when he was suddenly awoken by the fierce ringing of his telephone. He swung his arm over to his bedside table, clumsily knocking over his lamp and other assorted things. He fondled the phone and brought it to his ear.
"Hello.." he groggily mumbled. "Who.. isit?"
"Rocky... it's me, It's Adam.." came the reply, the voice was tinted with sorrow, with hesitation. "Rocky, something's happened. We need you to come back to Angel Grove"
"Whachasayin..." Rocky slurred his speech, half asleep. He rubbed his eyes and straighten up slightly. "Wha... Ange Gro? Adam? Whatsit?"
"Rocky.. I hate to tell you like this over the phone, but I thought you ought to know" Adam replied with confidence. He hadn't slept at all and was fully aware of what was going on around him, unlike Rocky. He continued, "Something's happened to Zordon... he's dead."
"What..." Rocky was stunned. He wasn't sure if what he was hearing was real or if he was still dreaming. "Zordon's dead?.."
"Look, Rocky, I cant stay on long. Everyone's making their way back here. Can you get here as soon as you can?" Adam questioned. "Just make your way back here... please. If you get here, just give one of us a call... please come back"
And with that, he hung up. Rocky held the phone to his ear, but was left with the nothing more than the dial tone. He lay back down in his bed and started to run over everything Adam had said. Could it be true? Could Zordon be dead? Can Zordon even die?
That was the last time Rocky had a full nights sleep.
Rocky's eyes were heavy. He was tired. he was always tired, but recently, his fatigue was getting the better of him. Matters where not helped by the fact that he had drank nearly six bottles of cheap Spanish beer. He didn't even like the taste of it, bitter and foaming. Yet he felt it was what he was SUPPOSED to do. He knew that when people were down or unhappy, they were supposed to isolate themselves, and only in this isolation could they drink themselves into a stupor. He had seen it on TV a hundred times- it was even present in the neighbourhood in which he grew up. He didn't like it, deep down he knew that. He didn't like knowing he was self destructing, and that his own frustration of this fact was preventing him from doing anything about it. It was a vicious circle, that was one thing he knew. It was the only thing he knew anymore. So much had happened to him in the last eighteen months. He cast his eyes out over the water as it lapped against the shore, moonlight reflecting in the distance. Sitting on the roof of his uncles old log cabin, he tried to clear his mind. Such a thing was not easy, especially as he was not exactly sober. His thoughts drifted, hazed and washed. He couldn't focus his train of thought well, until he remembered her face. His thought became clearer, intense. He was regaining control.. he remembered something.. that face... her face.. that was it. The face, staring up at him, arm outstretched. Everything came flooding back.
"She shouldn't have been there.." he thought, searching for reason, for justification. "No... she was too close... I didn't have time.. I told here to get away.." He couldn't remember much of what happened after that, and what he could remember was muddled.
It was a fight he could have never hoped to win. Something strong, a demon.. a monster. He had been foolish to take it on, especially as he was so unprepared. It was beating him, he was losing power... losing consciousness. Suddenly, a rip... something had been ripped from his body. He began to surge with electrical static, the Morphin Grid no longer capable of protecting his body. He demorphed, he was thrown to the ground, in the dirt.
"That was it... that's how it started..", he mumbled, as he closed his eyes as he remembered what happened next.
It was the only thing he remembered perfectly, clearer than anything he could remember before or since. Laying in the dirt, he twisted he head around to see what the creature was doing, what it was going to do to him. It was metres away.. turned from him, approaching her. She was on the ground too, crawling backwards as the monster advanced.
"No... don't..", he thought wearily. He could see what had been ripped from his body in the battle- it wasn't a limb or skin or hair... it had been his morpher. The morpher now lay between the monster and the terrified figure of a young woman.
It was clearly damaged, cracked in places and now buzzing with electricity. She saw it- she recognised and she knew what to do with it. She wasn't a brave girl, but she knew this was her only chance. She grabbed the buzzing morpher which lay at her feet and pushed past the horned arms of her attacker. She began franticly crawling towards Rocky as he lay in the dirt, but in her panic, she found herself unable to move quickly at all. The creature spun around instinctively and grabbed her by her hair, and she screamed in pain. It laughed at her, tugging on her hair harder. It saw the morpher in hand, and simply grabbed it from her clenched fist. She tried to resist, but it was of no use. She turned her head to face Rocky, terror in her eyes. She knew it was going to kill her. This was it. She was going to die. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she met Rocky's gaze. Rocky summoned up all the strength he had left to get to his feet and began to stumble towards her, to no avail. He tripped over himself, and once again fell face first into the dirt. She screamed his name, and outstretched her hand to reach him as the morpher exploded, vaporising the monster and his captive. Rocky was blasted into the air and blown backwards by the force of the blast. Flames danced around him, he was burned and blackened by the explosion. He slowly looked up, only to be met by a large flaming crater where the monster had been. They were both dead.
Rocky woke with a start. He eyes flashed open and his body jerked. He had been asleep, yet he could not remember going to bed- not that he had even made it to bed. As usual, he had slept on the recliner in the main room of the cabin. He sat up wearily. The sun was beginning to shine through the windows and illuminated the dozen bottles of beer on the table. Some lay on the floor, with their labels removed. He looked around, and surveyed the room. The darkness of the shadows and the smell of the room filled him with self loathing. He hated what he was becoming. He was so powerless. He had been powerless to save Elaine, and he was powerless to save himself. He hadn't always been this way. Once, Rocky went to school with three friends in a Californian town called Stone Canyon. Circumstances took place in which the three of them were transferred to the neighbouring town of Angel Grove, and it was there that his life changed forever. He discovered the identities of the Power Rangers- they were teenagers, just like him. He even went to school with them. And it even when the time came to choose replacements for the Red, Yellow and Black Rangers, he became one of them. It was euphoric for him. The power, the weapons, the zords... he was a real life superhero. They went on many adventures, travelling to different planets and dimensions, and even travelling through time. When their powers were lost, they went on quests to find shards of the Zeo Crystal- an object of infinite power. He became an even stronger Ranger.. almost invincible. The feeling was addictive, every morph was a rush for him. He would do it forever- he would sacrifice his human life for this, to chase evil throughout the galaxy. However, such things don't always go the way we want them to. He was injured.. badly. For a while, there was talk that he may never even walk again. Thankfully, things turned out okay for him. The build-up of morph residue in his system meant that he, like the other Rangers, had a higher tolerance for injury. However, as he was unable to fulfil his duties as a Power Ranger, his position on the team was replaced. This hurt him more than any spinal injury could. Being a Ranger was the one thing he was ever any good at, and now his future was uncertain. Time passed, the new Blue Ranger was accepted into the team. Rocky couldn't return to the fold.. he couldn't face them, especially as they could find a replacement for him so easily... and that replacement was a child. He had lied his way out of it. He was hurting. He left Angel Grove soon afterwards. But it wasn't the last he would see of that weird city.
Two years later, things started to change. He was sleeping as well as he ever could, when he was suddenly awoken by the fierce ringing of his telephone. He swung his arm over to his bedside table, clumsily knocking over his lamp and other assorted things. He fondled the phone and brought it to his ear.
"Hello.." he groggily mumbled. "Who.. isit?"
"Rocky... it's me, It's Adam.." came the reply, the voice was tinted with sorrow, with hesitation. "Rocky, something's happened. We need you to come back to Angel Grove"
"Whachasayin..." Rocky slurred his speech, half asleep. He rubbed his eyes and straighten up slightly. "Wha... Ange Gro? Adam? Whatsit?"
"Rocky.. I hate to tell you like this over the phone, but I thought you ought to know" Adam replied with confidence. He hadn't slept at all and was fully aware of what was going on around him, unlike Rocky. He continued, "Something's happened to Zordon... he's dead."
"What..." Rocky was stunned. He wasn't sure if what he was hearing was real or if he was still dreaming. "Zordon's dead?.."
"Look, Rocky, I cant stay on long. Everyone's making their way back here. Can you get here as soon as you can?" Adam questioned. "Just make your way back here... please. If you get here, just give one of us a call... please come back"
And with that, he hung up. Rocky held the phone to his ear, but was left with the nothing more than the dial tone. He lay back down in his bed and started to run over everything Adam had said. Could it be true? Could Zordon be dead? Can Zordon even die?
That was the last time Rocky had a full nights sleep.