Curse of the Power Rangers (V)

Isaac gave a low groan, his entire face scrunching up as every sensation started to return. All of them shouted discomfort. The throbbing sensation stemmed from the back of his head and washed over the rest like ripples. He didn't even need to open his eyes to be nearly blinded by whatever light source was beating down on him.

He tried pulling his hands up rub his face, though found only one hand made contact; all he got from the other was a pullback, with a faint metallic rattling. It was only then did he realize he wasn't lying down, rather propped up against a wall. He gave a go at opening his eyes, but only managed a few seconds before the light grew too much.

"W…Wh…." He tried to speak, but his throat had grown dry and made it difficult to get words out.

"Good, you're awake."

He flinched back at the sudden voice, inadvertently slamming the back of his head against the wall he was propped again. Recoiling from the blow, Isaac again tried to hold his head in his hands, but found the one hand to have a much more limited range than the other.

"The fuc…?" Isaac grunted, tugging to try and increase the slack.

"Try not to give yourself a concussion; wouldn't put me in the best light if my report doesn't match up."

Isaac looked forward, where he thought the voice was coming from, and immediately froze.

Beyond the blinding light that acted as the floor and ceiling of whatever narrow room he was in, stood the Silver Ranger.

He immediately rushed forward…but only managed to get a few feet before he was yanked back by whatever had him anchored in place. Landing forcefully on his back, the wind was knocked from Isaac, leaving him gasping.

"I'm not sure what you were expecting to happen," E mocked, taking a few steps forward as Isaac recovered and got to one knee.

It was now he finally looked back, and saw what was holding him back.

"What is this?" he uttered, lifting the small metal box wrapped around his entire forearm; everything from the elbow down was covered in some kind of steel, with an equally thick chain rooted to the floor. He gave a few testing tugs, quickly finding out where he was standing now was as far as the chain would let him.

"Even when restrained and contained, Power Rangers are best kept under secure lock and key," the Silver Ranger claimed, walking up to the very edge of the unlit area he stood on; the ends of his toes barely inches from the lit panels. Though he quickly followed up the vague statement.

"Power dampeners line both the ceiling and floor of your cells, and the confines of that box around your Morpher. Some decommissioned tech from Silver Hills' Guardians. Would've been a shame to let the research go to waste."

"Sounds like the Government to steal shit and pass it as your…." Isaac slowly trailed off, looking back to the Silver Ranger after previously focusing entirely on the box locked over his hand.

"You said cells."

Even with the helmet on, E fought to suppress the twitch that threatened to spread into a full-blown smirk. From the outside, the Silver Ranger gave off no vibe; instead a cold, expressionless look as he brought his forearm up and drew a finger across the small screen embedded within the armour.

"What do you know? You've actually got some brains rattling in that head of yours."

The walls flanking Isaac suddenly started to disintegrate, startling him enough to get back to his feet and look around in bewilderment.

Falling from the roof down, the walls soon fell away entirely, revealing-

"Guys!"

"Isaac!" "You're alive!"

On either side of Isaac, the rest of the Wolf Pack were in similar bindings that he found himself in. Their confines formed five cubes, the main source of light in the empty room. And even from a quick glance, Isaac could tell he wasn't in the worst state of the five of them.

"Tyler!" He lingered on the slumped form of the Blue Warrior, his shoulder wrapped in blood-soaked bandages.

He turned back to the Silver Ranger, a deadly glare. "What did you do?"

"What was necessary to bring him into custody."

The Silver Ranger's vision swept over the rest of the Rangers, their reflections passing over his visor.

"None of you seem to truly understand the scale of the damage you've done in your limited stint as Power Rangers."

"We pissed off a few people, we get that," Kyle interjected, giving a futile tug at the chain and box wrapped around his wrist; there wasn't a visible seam for his to even begin to try and pry it open. "I don't see how that warrants us being locked up like damn animals."

"I think you're glossing over a rather significant elephant in the room."

The Silver Ranger walked over to stand in front of Kyle's enforced glass cell, making the demorphed Black Ranger hesitate only momentarily before resuming his attempts to free his opposite hand.

A spark leapt across the containment, forcing Kyle's other hand to recoil.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, hand shaking as the electrical impulse rocked one side of his body; he couldn't unclench his fist for the few seconds that followed.

"The purposeful displacement of the entire population of Pax Valley and the immediate surrounding areas; nearly 95,000 people being displaced because of your actions. Though I'd bet that the nearly 20,000 confirmed American deaths by your hands is going to have a much more significant impact on you sentences."

"…20…000?!" Natalie exclaimed, her attempts to get free immediately grinding to a halt when this fact was dropped on them. She pressed herself against the wall of her cell, eyes wide in alarm. That couldn't be right; he had to be exaggerating to hit them harder…right?

"That we know of. I'd still have teams digging through the rubble you so kindly leave behind after your block-destroying Megazord fights, but you think it's a good idea to run out or straight up kill my men the second they step foot into the area. That adds at least another 50 of my men on your rap sheet."

He stepped back from Kyle's cell, and turned to look at all of the incarcerated teenagers. His arms folded neatly behind his back, not at all hindered by the bulkier parts of the Ranger suit.

"The UN wanted you brought to them, but I had a feeling they'd be far less lenient than we're being."

"You call this fucking lenient?!" Isaac asked, giving another forceful tug. But even with the enhanced strength, it didn't budge.

"Japan was asking for the death sentence after all the crap you pulled over there, on top of all your rap sheet in this country. And the Canadian government was after some more severe than the American government had in mind. Personally, I think you're in the best of a bad situation."

"Somehow, I doubt anyone would consider where we are right now a 'best case scenario'!" Tanya shouted, giving the side wall of her cell a forceful shoulder barge. But the glass-looking material proved tougher than she anticipated. "When people find out-!"

"If they find out!" he briskly strolled over to the Yellow Gamma's cell, coming to a sudden stop when he was standing at the head. His emotionless visor peering in to the completely exposed cell. "I think the general population would be angered more with being deceived."

"But that is what I'm here to do; to prevent the public from finding out."

He stepped back from the cell, turning to have his back to the five cells. He walked away, further than before, yet his voice still sounded like he was standing right there in front of them.

"The Power Rangers have wild for far too long, and it's about time they are put into place. You will be held accountable for your actions, and you will all be made examples of, for any future groups that think they can act outside the law. But don't worry; your gifts won't be put to waste. We'll find…uses for them. But for now, know this; the power protects you…no longer."

He almost stepped out of sight, into the shadows that hugged the walls just out of reach of the lights produced by each of the cells.

"They're not gifts."

Isaac's words echoed across the empty room, gaining both the attempt of the rest of his team, and the Silver Ranger. The latter of which was stopped in his steps, partially turning to side-look back to the imprisoned Rangers. His eyes narrowed beneath the blankness of his visor.

"What are they then?"

Isaac had paced around to the back wall of his transparent cell, leaning back and slowly sliding down again to slump against the wall once again. Only this time, he chose this position.

"Ever since we got these things," he gave a shake of his shackled arm, purposely rattling the chain against the cell floor like a metal serpent. "Our lives have gone to shit; like, proper…proper shit. They've done nothing but take from us; friends, respect, reputation…" Isaac paused momentarily, swallowing a small lump in his throat. "…Family…"

He looked back up to the distant Silver Ranger; even as far away as he was, Isaac could tell he had at least part of his attention.

"These Morphers aren't a gift…They're nothing but a curse."

E looked across the other Rangers after Isaac's statement, seeing their reaction following their leaders' words. All of them, baring the semi-conscious Tyler, lowered their gaze or looking away entirely. Like they all wanted to say what Isaac just blurted out, but none of them had spoken up before now.

And E almost...wanted to agree with what the Red Ranger was saying. He knew of past teams, long before this one that refused to admit as such.

But that would mean agreeing with them.

Instead, he gave a muffled scoff.

"A curse...damn Rangers…" he uttered under his breath, giving a dismissive wave as he took those last few steps that took him beyond the reach of the lights.

The door bolted shut and locked down after E passed through, two pairs of armed D-13 soldiers stepping out to guard the door. He passed another squad of patrolling soldiers, turning a corner and marching down the corridor and through the doors that seemingly opened automatically as they drew near. Though this illusion was quickly broken, as Clint and another individual soldier walked through after the patrol had passed; while the soldier continued on, Clint spotted the Silver suit-clad E and approached.

"The power levels steady?"

"So far. Power dampeners as looking good so far, but only time's going to tell if they'll hold for a prolonged period."

"We just need them to hold until we get our funding secured again," E stated, gesturing for Clint to walk with him as he approached the same door he had just walked through earlier. "After Mallory's approval, we can move onto the next stage."

"I doubt Fairweather'll comply when she finds out what we want…" Clint muttered, stepping ahead and holding open the door for E.

"She's not unreplaceable," E countered bluntly, walking through the door and ahead. "But if worse comes to worse, we've got her husband as leverage. But I doubt she'…."

The door closed behind him, cutting off wherever his sentence was going.

The hall was empty…for a few seconds, before a side door a few rooms down from the double doors crept open.

Fairweather's glare could have burned right through the door; she was furious. Granted, her temper with E and his organization was already strained at best. But now? With teenagers imprisoned like zoo animals? And the threats to Joel he was alluding to so casually? That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Though she would have wanted to march right through the doors after E and his lackey, she instead turned around and walked down the opposite way; she had learnt the layout of the facility enough to find a longer route back to the labs, while taking her completely out of the way of everywhere she had often crossed paths with E.

But while one hand was firmly locked in by her side, the other was stuffed into her trouser pocket, before moving out to dig into the depths of her lab coat pocket.

She already read through the text message several times prior, so she didn't even need to make sure everything was how she wanted it to say.

One tap.

In that one moment-that one choice-Fairweather immediately felt the potential danger of her being here grew exponentially.

\/\/\/

Savage paced uneasily back and forth a few more times, a low growl of impatience accompanying each turn. Along with this, he spared a look across to MUTT; the silence was beginning to get to him. How he was working in this kind of environment was beyond him.

Finally, a deeper growl of frustration tore out of his throat as he threw his hands into the air. "I can't take it anymore!"

"Savage-"

"Don't 'Savage' me!" he barked, jabbing a clawed finger in MUTT's general direction as he moved around the room towards his chambers. "You haven't got the comms back up yet, and we don't have a damn idea what's going on out there! I'm getting my armour, and I'm going to get them!"

"Savage, wait-"

"No! I am DONE waiting!" Savage countered harshly, coming to a complete stop to emphasis his disapproval from MUTT's suggestion. "I have waited over 10,000 years for even a glimmer of hope to avenge my Pack, and I will not have these warmongers take that hope-!"

"They are beyond my reach, Savage!"

Savage had expected to shout again, louder than the previous, that he wasn't going to listen to whatever attempt MUTT was going to use to persuade him to stay just a little while longer. And, frankly, he would have preferred that, ten-fold, to the weak croak that escaped his hanging jaw.

"W…What?"

MUTT pulled his hands away from the keyboards he was working at, slowly stepping around the console to speak directly to Savage. He came a stop when all the separated them was a few feet.

"I was able to get their transponders to respond a short while ago, but only for a moment. I did not mention it because I did not want to foster any false hope of bringing them to safety. Wherever they are, the humans that have captured them are able to consistently suppress and almost severe the Howlers from the Morphing Grid."

"W…We have get them out…just give me the locat-"

"NO."

MUTT cut him off before Savage had a chance to full form an argument, daring to take a step closer, further cutting the gap that separated them; with neither willing to back down, the two were almost nose-to-nose.

"As we stand, there are two likely outcomes if I were to go along with that request. Outcome #1, the best case scenario-only some of you are killed. Scenario #2, which I call the worst case scenario; everyone is killed and the only one to get any sort of upper hand out of this would be Horror and his demon forces."

Savage looked back at MUTT as the robot gave him his options, his fists still tightly wound up and ready to send them flying. Eventually, however, the tensed up muscles finally gave up, and he let out a long, low sigh. He backed down from MUTT, walking away a short distance with a hand combing over the top of his head, ears folding flat.

"Then what do you suggest?" Savage eventually asked, turning back around as his hand fell back to his side. "We just…just sit here and wait for the humans to have no more use of the Warriors?"

"What we do, is we plan and coordinate," MUTT countered, systematically stepping back to return to the computers he was working at before. "This is a very delicate situation that could very, very easily take a fatal turn. It will take time, yes; this is something I cannot control. But we cannot focus entirely on the 'when'; rather, we have the 'how' on our side."

"I believe it is time to call in that favour Savage."

Savage paused for a moment, ears slowly perking up again when it clicked what MUTT was talking about.

"Naku…"

MUTT gave a single nod of confirmation.

"I'll see if I can find him or Merrick; I doubt one would be far from the other."

"For the sake of the Warriors, I hope so," Savage muttered, walking off towards his chambers, half-glancing back as his companion begun new work. "But if what you said earlier is true, about the humans working in alliance with the Demons, then they are in far, far more danger than I first feared."

MUTT looked up to Savage, catching him just before he vanished out of sight.

"We will get them back, Savage. I understand I have been pushing towards you embracing you emotions instead of supressing them, but now is not to act on them. Logic and reason; that is what will help us get them back."

Savage looked back one last time, taking in a slow breath.

"I hope you're right."

\/\/\/

"Master."

Fear stepped through the shadows, in the comfort of his Demonic form instead of the human disguise he wore when he last spoke with Horror. He brushed his shoulder pad-one of those disgusting humans dared to pad him on the shoulder when he returned from speaking to his Master-as he dropped to one knee before the raised throne.

"Fear…you return."

Horror looked down at his kneeling Hand, dismissing a viewing portal with a flick of his wrists. He leaned forward, skeletal fingers interlocking together. "I trust you bring good news?"

"I do, my Master," Fear hastily replied, slowly rising to his feet and folded his hands neatly behind his back. "The humans have captured the Warriors; they never stood a chance."

"Really? And how can we be sure they will remain in confinement by the humans?"Horror questioned, the glowing red under his hood burning on the finest details of Fear's expression.

But Fear's face remained even, as did his voice. "It leaves a bad taste in my mouth to say such, but I may have…underestimated the capability of these particular humans. They have the technology more than capable of creating their own Warrior, and appear to be able to contain the Warriors of Zeta. For how long, I cannot be certain. But for the foreseeable future, I can say so with a small degree of certainty."

Horror didn't respond immediately, nor in the few seconds following. The growing silence quickly started to make Fear double-check what he just said.

"Strange…"Horror slowly rose from his throne, almost gliding to the same level as Fear in his decent. His Hand quickly stepped back to give Horror space, as his shadows pooled around him. His arms fell behind his back, as he stood tall over his subordinate. He could see the subtle way Fear tried to hide his squirming beneath his gaze.

"If I did not know any better, I would say you were admiring these wretched humans."

Immediately, Fear shook his head in denial.

"Of course not, sir. The human scum will be nothing but indistinguishable footnotes beneath your glorious future, Master," he responded promptly, taking an additional step back from the potential wrath of Horror. "A future that I would happily wish to see as your Hand."

Horror remained in place for what seemed like the longest of times; more than long enough for Fear to tighten his jaw and hands to clench and unclench as he anxiously awaited for his Master to say or do…something.

"Seems like brown-nosing is far more universal than I initially thought."

The new voice gained the attention of both Fear and Horror; though while the latter retained his usual air of confidence, Fear turned sharply to the source and drew his sword. Without hesitation, he zeroed in on the outline masked by the shadows, and slowly advanced.

"Who dares step foot into the realm of Master Horror?" he demanded, only stopping when the very tip of his sword was nearly penetrating the shadows where the figure stood.

The shadow looked down at the swords' tip, barely an inch from touching him, before a noise came from the inky blackness. A chuckle.

Fear blinked, unsure how exactly to react at the unthreatened noise. He was so caught off guard, he didn't realize his sword was moving without him controlling it until the figure spoke again.

A pair of fingers pressed against the smooth face of the sword, and slowly pushed diagonally downwards.

"Now now, there's no need to showboat."

Fear's face tightened, and he looked ready to deliver a strike had Horror's voice not stopped him in his tracks.

"Stand down Fear. The Admiral is an ally."

"Admiral?" Fear echoed, eyes still firmly on the partially shadowed figure. The only difference between now and a few seconds ago was a title to label it with; it didn't come any closer to Fear willingly lowering his defences.

"Admiral Richter Letumors."

Richter stepped forward from the shadows, letting what little light was available to shine down on him; shooting a forced smirk in Fear's direction. "I have temporarily pledged my services to your Master; a service that is expected to benefit both our groups."

With another look to his Master, Fear almost let his expression betray his dumbfounded thoughts as Horror gave him a slow confirming nod. Clearly reluctant, the Hand of Horror slowly returned his sword to its place and folded his arms over his chest.

"What do you mean by, benefits?"

Another smile tugged at Richter's lips; only, unlike the last one, this one had a fraction of sincerity to it.

"Funny you should ask that, I was just returning to inform Horror over here that I was in the final stages of extracting the power sources to your Power Ranger adversaries; or are you one to call them…Warriors? Eh," Richter waved a hand dismissively, "I'm not going to split hairs on that."

"Point being," he continued, "I'm helping your Master, and in the process, educating myself."

"How much longer will you need?" Horror stepped forward, Fear backing up to give his Master a wider space. Though the Hand shot a glare towards this Admiral, who remained in place as he faced down Horror.

"A few more days, maybe a week at the most; this is very delicate. I've witnessed the destruction brought on by one of these crystals; while these are just…remnants, there are five remnants. One false move, and this entire system is wiped from the star maps."

"Then we are you even doing this, knowing the very real threat this presents?" Fear questioned, eyes narrowed in suspicion, though they hide a much more alarmed series of thoughts.

"Because of the expansion of knowledge, my friend."

"I'm not your friend."

"Well, you didn't seem like the friendly type anyway."

Richter's dry remark didn't go unnoticed by Fear, who gave a threatening glare and reached for his sword again.

But Horror's skeletal hand came down to keep Fear from drawing his sword again, not-so-cautiously shoving his Hand aside.

"Take what time is needed, but do not keep me waiting."

With those final words of warning, Horror slowly turned and proceeding to walk away, the shadows wrapping around him in a cold embrace, as he vanished into the darkness of his chamber.

Richter turned to do the same, but a sudden grip on his arm kept him from leaving. He turned to find Fear with a death grip around his bicep.

The Hand and the Admiral glared at one another in tense silence for what seemed like hours, before Fear leaned in close. Through grit teeth, he whispered,

"Watch yourself."

He tore his hand away from Richter's arm shortly afterwards, taking a step back but never took his eyes off of the Admiral.

The part-cybernetic brought his other hand up to hold his now-tender arm, his organic and red-eye watching this new Hand with a suspicious glare; had Horror replaced Batibat so soon, or was this among the many things Horror had so conveniently happen to neglect?

"Somehow, I think you'll be doing a far better job of that than I," Richter responded stiffly, partially turning to step back into the very walkway he had stepped through. Giving Fear one last once over, Richter turned away entirely.

And, much like Horror, the shadows seemed to consume him, leaving not a trace.

\/\/\/

The hills were quiet. The trees were still; even the wind seemed to grow calm over the now-silent city of Pax Valley. The buildings that were somehow still standing, even after all the destruction the entire city had faced, seemed to have hanging on only barely; their walls were littered with bullet holes, smashed windows. All of them echoes of fights all since won, or lost.

Atop one of these few standing buildings, one figure could see all of what was before him.

"Perhaps…I have been too hands off."

The figure had its hands stuffed into his unnaturally white trousers, the equally blinding white jacket waving faintly in what little wind gently battered him. His hood was down, revealing the short-cut hair, pale white widow's peak, as pale blue eyes swept across the city landscape.

His hands came out of his pockets, slowly drawing the hood up over his head. Another look over the quiet city, before he turned on the spot and slowly walked away.

"The balance of the Grid be damned."

Zeta's eyes hardened, as if glowing a brighter baby blue, as he was engulfed in a sudden white glow.

And just like that…he vanished.

To Be Continued...

And just like that, we've (finally) reached the halfway point in this story!

This should also be a good time to mention that I'm going to be taking a bit of time off before the next part, and second half, is uploaded. But this story isn't going to be abandoned; I believe the second half is going to be much better than the first.

The Wolf Pack will return with the next episode, 'The Gathering', in the not too distant future.

-Nf991