A\N: Well, I've given up on getting my NaNo count, so I'm gonna update instead. Also, the title of the chapter is an Adema song. For extra fun, listen to this chapter while listening to that song. *shudders* Jeeze, the things my bunnies make me do...

Location: Unkown
Date: September 9, 2003

"The Green Dino Gem moved on the seventh. Haley Ziktor. She's with Tommy now."

"All the pieces are in play, then."

"Exactly."

"Are we waiting?"

"You tell me."

"We could wait. But we won't get anything. Mesegog will only get stronger, and so will we. Actually, the only risk I see is that we do wait. Then we'd end up risking Mesegog getting too strong."

"Not bad."

"We're not waiting?"

"No. Not anymore."

*PR*PR*PR*

Location: h'Ford household, Reefside
Date: September 10, 2003

Kira didn't usually dream.

She was the daughter of Fire and Earth; as passionate as she was, she was stable, too, a flaming sun for the team to revolve around. When the events that had granted her a Dino Gem started giving her nightmares, she took the most practical route and rewired her brain to prevent dreaming altogether. She didn't particularly miss it.

But it must have been a dream, because she woke up and saw Trent sitting in her windowsill.

Trent was dead.

He'd been the adoptive son of Anton Mercer. They'd met him when Anton had kidnapped them; he'd gone to their high schools and been drawn to all of them. He'd never made the connection between his friendship and the kidnappings. Anton had made sure he was gone before the kidnappings happened.

But then Anton had needed the White Primary.

Kira didn't know what had happened. She didn't like thinking about those months, the time where that...that thing had experimented on them, had let sadistic scientists inject them with things and make them run until they collapsed and fight monsters and Tyranodrones. If she had to remember it, she forced her mind to the few moments with her Gem-brothers, or the times when Trent had held her, when she felt fluttering in her stomach and pure, sweet desire.

Trent had come back more and more heavily injured. Bloodstained, sometimes. He'd brag that it wasn't all his blood, trying to reassure them. She'd held him and crooned the few healing song-spells she knew.

And then one day he just hadn't come back.

So it couldn't be Trent sitting on her windowsill, it had to be a dream. Kira sat up sleepily, but dream-Trent walked over, shushing her and rubbing her back.

Kira reached for his arm, pulling him down next to her. She missed him. It burned like fire, how much she missed him. Dream or not, she could barely help herself, and she couldn't keep her eyes from welling up with tears.

Trent paused, then slid into bed next to her, his arms circling her.

Kira cried. This wound was one of the worst that could be opened. It woke her up a little, but Trent held her until the tears stopped and she just lay in his arms, numb.

She fell asleep a little, but she wanted to do one thing. She tilted her head up and pressed a sleepy kiss to his lips.

"We should've kissed." She whispered, explaining. "Before..." She yawned.

Trent kissed her gently, chastely. "Shh. Go to sleep."

Kira closed her eyes and drifted away.

The next morning, she woke up to an empty bed and made a note to herself to kill whatever part of her brain had dreamed up something like that before going to get some damn coffee.

*PR*PR*PR*

Location: Mesegog's Island
Date: September 10, 2003

It was a fine, sunny day on the island, and so the Tyrannodrones were preparing for winter. By this time, they'd set up a society of their own, with whole 'families' of them living in caves.

Into the cave housing the leader strode a boy.

The Tyrannodrones recognized him. Trent Ferdanez, Anton Mercer's son. What was he doing here? They chattered furiously among themselves, some wanting to kill him and eat him, others cautioning patience.

The leader, one of the oldest, stood.

Trent didn't speak their language well, but he spoke it. He was polite, but intense, and asked them only one thing: Did they want the island to themselves?

Yes, the leader replied cautiously.

Trent was an ambassador, he said, for a woman he called 'mother'. A powerful warrior, powerful enough to destroy Mesegog, and if she did, she would give them the island forever, provided they did not attack her.

A generous offer, the elders said. So what's the catch?

No catch, Trent said with a smile. Just a simple exchange. If they would help him during the attack on Mesegog, they could have their island. It was as easy as that.

Yet as traitorous. The Tyrannodrones did not say it aloud, but they were perversely grateful to Mesegog, not so much for creating them as for giving them the occasional human to eat, and making sure there was some game for them on the island. They were carnivores, after all. And they enjoyed human flesh out of pure spite, since they were well aware that, should they leave the island, they would be hunted and killed with extreme prejudice.

But a home of their own was tempting.

They talked for a while, angry or cautious or afraid, and the entire time Trent stood there, waiting, and the leader noticed the boy and thought. There were no child Tyrannodrones, but if there were, the leader might have thought Trent was nothing more than an arrogant child.

But there was something else there. The scent of a woman lingered on him, the Yellow Ranger's scent, and there was a tear track on his cheek. And his stance, while seemingly innocuous, was perfect for fighting on the rocky cave floor. He had weapons on him, faint outlines against his shirt.

The leader made a decision.

*PR*PR*PR*

Location: Reefside High
Date: September 10, 2003

Tommy paused.

He was teaching. His kids were off on their next classes, or in Ethan's case trying to hack Anon, which Tommy would usually try to stop, but Anon was apparently amused by the Blue Ranger's attempts, so whatever.

But someone had morphed.

...White. Tommy identified the Ranger. White Ranger. He'd thought that Gem was lost. Hope surged in him-the White Secondary, whoever he or she was, they'd found the Gem, it wasn't-

And then agony hit.

"...Dr. O?"

Tommy winced, but he saw his class staring at him in concern. "Um, I'm sorry...I just got a migraine..." He lied. The pain was intense, worse than any headache he'd ever had. Some part of him could feel the White Ranger screaming in agony.

A glimmer, too, of an image, of a laboratory and Mesegog's face smiling in pure sadistic joy...

"Tell you what," Tommy croaked, "I'll let you guys out early today. Go have some fun."

The class looked at each other and grinned, heading for the door. It wasn't until the last of them left that Tommy sank into his chair, shutting his eyes and losing the battle to stand upright.

There was a glimmer of Elsa kneeling, her face like ice as she looked at her master and husband, and at the White Ranger, and a crazed thought from the White Ranger that she had somehow betrayed him...or maybe not so crazed...

Tommy bit back his screams. Someone would hear. He just curled up, trying not to whimper in pain.

The White Ranger screamed and snapped.

The pain stopped.

Tommy gave himself a minute, trying not to gasp or cry. Then he looked up.

One in the afternoon. There was daylight left. Lots of it.

The White Ranger would attack soon.

*PR*PR*PR*

Location: Mesegog's Island, unknown waters
Date: September 10, 2003

12:35.

Trent glanced up and smiled. Mesegog was a cold-blooded creature, and slept during the day. He wouldn't be asleep yet, probably, but tired, exhausted.

The last piece of the puzzle.

Trent stood and signaled.

The leader of the Tyrannodrones turned to his people and rapped out orders. There was a pause, and then a wave of black Tyrannodrones surged out, invading the compound.

Trent couldn't hear it, but he could imagine the blood. The pain and death, quick, sudden. Tyrannodrones were lethal killers when they wanted to be, and right now they wanted to be. No one wanted this to go wrong.

The leader turned and nodded to Trent.

Trent raised his wrist. "White Ranger, Drago Power."

And then he morphed.

Morphing. It wasn't like anything he'd ever felt, a world of ice and snow and a scream of a proud Dragosaur. It was energy and life flowing into him. And when the morph cleared away and he was left standing, he walked forward like a conqueror into the base.

The place had always seemed otherworldly. Haunted. The White Ranger ignored that, moving with the calm surety of a warrior knowing the rightness of his cause. He was flying on wings of his mother's glory, ready to kill the only enemy standing in her way. He would be by her side until the end; would bring her all of Earth if she asked.

Together they would rule the world.

The Tyrannodrones guarding the throne room's door chittered a salute to their leader, who chittered back. Trent glanced at the leader. Thank you, he said, mangling the words but still understandable.

Do not call on us again, the leader warned. We name you now, white one. You are death. Come to us, and you will meet your namesake.

The Tyrannodrones left.

Trent shook his head, snickering. Death. Seriously? Well, okay, that was kinda cool, but still.

He let the smile drain away and looked at the door. He had a job to do.

He walked in.

Mesegog turned his head. "Sssso. My ssson hasss...returned." He turned, flexing a claw. "Death...hassssbeen kind."

"Oh, I wasn't dead." Trent said pleasantly, taking out his blaster. "But you are."

And then pain erupted in his chest.

The blade had literally come from behind. Trent whirled, gasping, and saw the face of his mother, tears in her eyes as she stepped back, her face slowly becoming an icy mask.

For a minute he didn't understand.

Then he fell to his knees and it sank in, that his mother, the woman who had saved him when an experiment went wrong and sang to him when he was sick and let him buy pizza and trained him and the only teammate he had had just stabbed him and looked like ice or stone, and he couldn't tell if she cared or not. Trent yanked the dagger out. It hadn't hit an organ, and the Power was already healing it, but the pain was there.

And then there was new pain as Mesegog destroyed his mind.

*PR*PR*PR*

Location: Central Reefside
Date: September 10, 2003

White.

The thought-and the pain-reverberated through the Gems. Tommy watched, understanding, and even pained himself, Trent had been a nice kid, but apart, separate.

He hadn't been there. They had.

Tommy killed another Tyrannodrone, cursing Mesegog softly. Goddamnit, when would the freak stop hurting his kids? Corrupting the White Secondary like this was just pointless emotional torture for them after losing one of their own. Kira seemed especially crushed, venting her pain by going into a state near that of a Viking beserker, trying to lose herself in rage. And the White Ranger, whoever he was...Tommy wanted to find Mesegog himself and wring the thing's neck for this.

Someone slipped.

Tommy felt the battle change, but he couldn't get to his kids without letting the Tyrannodrones swarm them, so while the White Ranger sent hit after hit all he could do was keep going, cursing like a sailor.

Kira demorphed.

Tommy drew the Brachio Staff, using it as a stalv and slamming it into the ground. A wall of fire roared to life, giving him a few precious seconds to defend his daughter, and he turned, racing over to what wasn't, please God wasn't a corpse.

It wasn't.

Tommy stopped. The boys had, too. The White Ranger held Kira by the wrist, his fist raised, but he seemed frozen. Tommy heard the unfamiliar mind along the Dino Gems' mindlink bond, heard a strange mix of confusion and longing and just...pain.

The White Ranger let go of Kira's wrist, lowering his fist, still staring.

There was a blur, and the White Ranger was on the ground, Conner pounding him like, well, an infuriated teenager, screaming something incomprehensible. The White Ranger, stunned, just lay there.

His morph shattered.

Conner froze and Trent threw him off, taking a swing without realizing his morph was gone. Conner blocked and struck back, throwing Trent into a building.

"Trent!" Kira screamed, running to him.

Ethan and Conner broke into runs, too, screaming Trent's name, Conner babbling apologies, no one paying any attention to the Dragozord loose or the Tyrannodrones, and Tommy was...stunned. Trent. Trent was alive. Alive and the White Ranger.

The other Rangers pretty much piled on top of him, crying for pain and joy.

And then Trent morphed and threw them all like rag dolls.

Tommy moved. He'd seen enough evil Rangers to know what was going to happen. Sure enough, Trent was halfway to Conner before Tommy grabbed Trent's arm, twisting it up behind him and kicking his legs out in the same move.

Trent headbutted Tommy as he went down, actually managing to free himself while Tommy was distracted by the helmet bashing into his, and after a complicated moment Tommy and Trent were fighting, Tommy trying desperately not to hurt the boy while finding a way to restrain him somehow.

"Trent!" He shouted. Trent's helmet wouldn't pick up on a comm channel. "Trent, listen to me! Whatever's going on, this isn't you. I want to help you, understand? Let me-"

Trent shot him in the face. Which didn't hurt, but knocked his head back and gave the boy an advantage, enough for him to slash down with the dagger he held and-

There was a scream across the Power as Trent drank energy from Tommy's morpher.

Tommy passed out.

When he woke up a few seconds later, the Dragozord was gone, as were the Tyrannodrones. Kira was laying on the ground crying, not even trying to move. The boys were shouting and punching things.

Trent was gone.