"What were you doing!?" Zordon had begun scolding the remaining five Rangers upon their arrival at the command center, "Why weren't you with the White Ranger?"
"Because we wanted to see if this guy was there watching us." Aisha answered.
"I know who you were looking for, I heard you over your communicators." Zordon replied, "But couldn't that wait until the danger was over?"
"Zordon, didn't you tell us we should keep our identity secret?" Billy asked in return.
"He's right." Adam agreed, "If this guy somehow found out how to deal with Putties and how we're called..."
"That's no excuse!" Zordon interrupted, "Maybe one of you should've searched while the rest of you fight. Not the other way around."
"Cut us some slack, will you?" Rocky told him, "It's not like Tommy's dead now, is he?"
Zordon appeared to pause at that remark: "How do you know that for sure?"
"Rocky is right." Billy agreed, "It looked more like he was captured in that urn. So all we have to do is take that from him."
"Oof...!" Kim sounded relieved, "I almost thought I had to be worried."
"Zordon." Alpha suddenly decided to join in on the conversation, "Why don't you just tell them what's going on?"
"Why, you know what happened?" Aisha asked.
"The creature you saw is called Octophantom." Zordon replied, "You all already know what he can do with the urn."
"Yeah." Rocky replied, "But as Billy said..."
"Do not underestimate him." Zordon interrupted, "If you try to take it away from him, he may well capture you too. If he does that, there'll be no one left to protect the world."
This sudden revelation came as a shock to the group.
"I... I hadn't thought of that." Adam replied.
"So what do we do now?" Kim asked.
"Wait." Zordon replied, "Until Octophantom shows himself again."
Meanwhile, Terrence entered Quentin's office. Upon entering, the woman approached Terrence.
"Hi, how are you doing?" she asked, stretching out her hand so to shake his.
Terrence saw her hand sticking out, but turned to one of the chairs near her desk: "I don't think you wanted me to come here for small-talk."
As he sat down, Quentin was a little startled at that behaviour, but not unprepared, "No, but there's no harm in it. Is there?"
"Why won't you just do both of us a favor and just say what you have to say." Terrence suggested.
Quentin seemed pleased that he appeared to be willing to listen at least. She returned to her desk and started talking: "How are things?"
"You already asked me that." Terrence reminded her.
"And I wouldn't ask if I didn't have a reason to." Quentin replied.
Terrence sighed: "In that case, what specifically do you need to know?"
Quentin smiled: "Your parents called me, and they've expressed concern."
"Concern?" Terrence couldn't understand, "There's nothing wrong with my grades, so..."
"That's not what they're concerned about." Quentin interrupted, "They just see you spending a lot of time in your room, the library, or wherever else you go, but always by yourself."
"So? They don't wanna join me, do they?" Terrence sounded worried.
"No, that's not it." she answered, "They remember you having friends, but you don't hang out with them anymore."
Terrence sighed again, more deeply this time: "Oh. Right. Them."
"Them? You know who they're talking about?" Quentin asked.
"I used to be friends with this bunch of people, yes. Six of them, if you want me to be specific." Terrence replied.
"What were they like?" was her next question.
"Why? You wanna try and let them be friends again? You're wasting your time." Terrence stated.
"If I don't talk to you about this, your parents will." Quentin answered, "Would you rather talk to them about this?"
"Why would I want to talk to YOU about it instead?" Terrence countered.
"I'm just curious." Quentin replied, "By the sound of it, you don't want to be friends with people who used to be close friends of yours."
"That depends on how you define the word 'friend'." Terrence answered.
"How's that?" Quentin sounded curious.
"Let me just put it this way." Terrence began, "Imagine you were friends with people. Friends all throughout your childhood. You laughed together, you played together. Even if you don't like what they like, don't have what they have, none of it mattered, as we could still share things. And that's where things went wrong."
"How do you mean?" Quentin sounded more concerned this time.
"Let's just say that being a child had to go away and be replaced by being materialistic." Terrence explained, "You have a certain gadget, you're good. You have knowledge, you're not. You haven't got emotions, you're good. You wear glasses, you're not. It all became a case of what you do and don't have that mattered more to them than actual friendship."
"So you just stopped being their friend after they became... materialistic?" Quentin asked.
"Not immediately." Terrence continued, "They all started to change their interests, their habits,... they changed pretty much everything. I didn't want to change, so for as far as they were concerned, I can't be their friend anymore. If that's really how they feel, then I don't think we ever were friends."
"That's a bit harsh." Quentin remarked.
"Is it?" Terrence questioned, "My parents have a tendency of calling me Terry. I hate that name, and my 'friends' know it. Yet for some reason, one of them thinks it's so 'cool' to call me by the name I hate. You think I'm being harsh, try them."
"But is that really a reason to be without friends?" Quentin finally asked, "Don't you even have a date to the prom?"
"Seeing as everybody around here is just as materialistic, why would I want to be their friend?" Terrence argued, "And about the prom, I got finals coming up. Do I really want to concern myself with that stupid prom?"
"Well maybe this'll help." Quentin started to take out three file folders, which she showed Terrence, "Here are three new students, who'll be transferring here from Stone Canyon High. Seeing as nobody else would want to talk to them, given the rivalry between that and this school, maybe you'd be interested."
Terrence opened every folder, one by one. The first belonged to a Jason Scott, the second to a Zack Taylor, and the third to a Trini Quan. But rather than reading either one of the files, Terrence just looked at their pictures, their names, then closed them again.
"One Caucasian, one Afro-American and one Asian." Terrence spoke, "I assume they ran out of small, medium and tall people."
"They'd just be new and won't have any friends here." Quentin reminded him.
"Well they'd at least be each others' friend. Don't think they'd need me." Terrence gave her back the files and made to leave.
"You're not interested?" Quentin couldn't understand.
"Interested in having you OR my parents force me into making friends?" Terrence questioned, "Give me one good reason?"
"If we don't do it, you'll never make friends in your life." Quentin argued.
"And if you do, it wouldn't be real friendship either." Terrence told her, "You of all people should know that."
This was were Quentin decided to give up. She buried her head in her hands, shortly before reminding Terrence: "Don't forget your hall-pass."