AN: Well now, this week has been nothing short of fantastic! So why stop at just one chapter posted, no? And with that said we are pleased to announce the newest chapter of Power Grid! Took us some time, but we did promise to update it semi regularly.

AtW: That promise ends now, unfortunately. Give us a bit of time to adjust to the new school semester, see how much energy we have left, and hopefully we'll be able to keep up the writing.

CW: As always, we would like to thank our readers and followers for lending their support to this idea. Remember to share your opinion and hit us up if you have any questions. We are always willing to hear you out.

AtW: If nothing else, I truly hope this brings a smile to your faces and you get a chuckle or two out of our creations. And feel free to add your own snippets in the comment section too!

CW: Now then, onto the reading!

Power Grid - Chapter 3

Taylor liked to think she wasn't as much of a pushover as Sophia and Emma claimed. She just didn't think the two of them were worth getting into trouble for, not when it might land her in juvie because she broke another girl's nose with a baseball bat. It just wasn't worth the hassle.

"Oh my god Taylor! Are you ok? What's that on your wrist?"

Annette Hebert's eyes went wide, dropping her purse and rushing over to her daughter.

"It's a morpher, I found it in the junkyard and-"

"Are you ok?" The older Hebert was turning this strange mix of deathly pale, sickly green, and angry red. "What did you do? Did this thing attack you? Why were you trespassing?"

"I think it just took a little blood and I had, had a rough day at school so I-"

Eyes going wide, the older woman halted her deluge of questions. Reaching out, she took her daughter's arm in a firm grip and began inspecting the device causing all this consternation.

"It took your blood? That's bad Taylor. Did anything happen? Any headaches, vertigo, nausea, fever, chills? I need to call an ambulance, we've got to get you to the hospital!"

Frantic, Taylor jerked her wrist back and tried not to wince at how easy it was to get out of her mother's grip.

"No! Please! Whatever you do, don't call anyone! I feel fine, but, well, when I was at the junkyard… I kind of… transformed into an evil Ranger thing and got into a fight with Tommy Oliver, Hana Doe, and Colin Wallis." The teen winced. "I think I may have blasted them."

But, and here's the twist of it, there were times when you gotta hold 'em and when you got to fold 'em.

"Sit." Her mother commanded, pointing emphatically to the couch.

Unfortunately, this time was the later.

The teenager sullenly did as asked. Praying that the homicidal device on her wrist wouldn't mistake her mother's fretting as some sort of attack. The last thing she wanted was to stand in front of her mom dressed in armor and spandex.

"Now." The older Hebert took a deep breath. "Let's go from the top. How did you go from leaving school early to getting a morpher stuck on your wrist?"

Taylor winced. That was a vast simplification of how her day went.

"After I left school I decided to go visit the scrapyard. Do some running, mess around with the abandoned stuff there. And well… turns out that there was an abandoned megazord head left behind…."

She quickly glossed over the details of how she had spent the last few months trying to get inside the marvel of modern mechanics and later on spent the best part of her free time exploring the abandoned machine. Which brought her to how today something in it activated after catching the signal coming from a package.

Looking back, she might as well have been describing the events of a novel or movie.

From how she had decided to earn brownie points by turning in the package. To how it had apparently a mind of its own and latched onto her arm the moment she got the morpher out. And then the moment Tommy Oliver of all people came barreling towards her with his awesome martial art moves.

She colored in embarrassment. Getting clobbered by a trio of former Rangers had been the highlight of her year and she couldn't help but fangirl a bit about it.

Of course, things quickly spiralled out of control when the morpher started taking her requests literally as it tried to commit three counts of murder with a parahuman ability. Which bought her enough time to crash outside the scrapyard and run all the way back home after the little death machine ran out of power.

"Ok." Annette closed her eyes for a moment, the attractive woman's chest rising and falling as she took several deep breaths. "Ok. First things first. I'm going to contact a lawyer. And then we're going to the hospital once I know you aren't going to be just arrested on the spot. This device is clearly dangerous and we need to get it removed."

THIS UNIT CAN NOT BE REMOVED

IT HAS BONDED TO AUTHORIZED USER, 'USER_NAME'

IT CAN NOT BE TAKEN OFF WITHOUT 'USER_NAME' EXPIRING

Taylor blanched. And, when she noticed her mother hadn't even reacted, tried to find her voice. It took a few tries, understandably, before she managed to stumble across her words.

"The morpher just spoke to me again."

"Again? Taylor, you didn't mention that it was talking to you."

"It didn't really seem important at the time. Think of it like a really tinny pre teen speaking in all caps and with some kind of weird reverb that makes it sound like two dozen other people saying the same thing at the same time."

"That… I… uh…."

Understandably, the otherwise normal middle school teacher was caught a bit flatfooted. In the end she just nodded, grimaced, and took her daughter's hands into her own.

"So we won't be taking it off then. Hardly good news but better finding it out now than while we're trying to get it removed. Now, how did it speak to you? Was it like when you control insects or speak to the neighbor's cats?"

Slowly, the young parahuman shook her head.

"No. I don't… think so." Possessed by a random spark of whimsy, she tilted her head. "Um, morpher, bracelet, thingy? How do you talk to me?"

THIS UNIT UTILIZES DIRECT NERVE STIMULATION

ALL INFORMATION IS TRANSMITTED INTO YOUR BRAIN

INTERCEPTION IS IMPOSSIBLE WHEN USING NEURON TO NEURON TRANSFER

ALL DATA IS ENCRYPTED AGAINST ALL FORMS OF LEVEL FOUR OR LOWER ASSAULT

'Super science thingy, got it.' She nodded.

"I guess that when I control bugs or try talking to Mr. Fuzzles, I send a signal they can understand. But this thing here just speaks into my head by messing around with the nerves leading up to my brain."

It was how she understood it, at least.

"So, super science thing. Got it." Her mother nodded in acceptance.

It really spoke about how prevalent the presence of futuristic super science was in this day and age that two people could recognize it and treat it as the unusual yet quaint facet of their lifestyles. Anyone one else would have lost their minds over the feat of development necessary to achieve this.

But for people who experienced alien invasions and the occasional giant monster fight, this was a drop on the barrel.

A rogue Morpher hijacking a teenager's body didn't rate that high in the scale.

Not when Boston was currently under siege by a swarm of artificial creatures and Europe was having its greatest crisis ever since Behemoth first popped out of the earth like the world's ugliest groundhog.

This was… pretty tame by comparison.

Even so… Taylor felt guilty.

Things weren't supposed to turn out like that. All she wanted was to get to hold a morpher at least once and to play hero, hand it over to the authorities and get a pat on the back for doing the right thing. She wanted to feel one step closer to being an actual hero, the kind she had always looked up to.

Instead she had fought three Rangers, gotten possessed by a rogue Morpher, and then escaped arrest like some sort of recurring villain.

Circumstances aside, that wasn't the kind of person her parents had raised.

She looked down, eyes stinging in frustration.

"I'm sorry, mom." She said, finally. "I just… got carried away."

Carried away thinking she could be the hero of the day. Instead getting hijacked and jerked around the scrapyard like a puppet. She put other people in danger and nearly got herself killed by a homicidal trinket. The simple fact of the matter was that she had been selfish in the worst possible ways. And now it was going to all explode in her face.

"Shh, shh." Annette's arms wrapped around Taylor's boney shoulders. "It's ok baby. I'm here, let it out. Shh."

Fat tears rolled down her cheeks as the teenager hiccuped and coughed as she found herself suddenly bawling. It was rather ugly crying, with bloodshot eyes and a bit of snot. But, it was also rather healthy. A release of fear and tension and stress.

In the end, the mother held her daughter for as long as it took. And the scared girl held her mother until her stomach stopped hurting and her chest stopped hitching.

The only thing that passed between them were soothing sounds, utterly nonsense, but comforting nonetheless.

"Ok Momma." Taylor sniffled. "I'm ok. Let's… do what you said. Go to the hospital, get this taken off, hand it over to the MRS."

WARNING

'What now?!' The teenager glared down at the device.

ANY AND ALL ATTEMPTS TO REMOVE THIS UNIT WILL TRIGGER ITS FAILSAFE

A SMALL SCALE DETONATION WILL OCCUR IN ORDER TO PREVENT CAPTURE

ESTIMATE CHARGE RANGE: 0.7 METERS

And immediately went ghost pale.

Failsafe?

Detonation?

As in a bomb?!

"This thing is a bomb?!" She screeched, eyes wide as the Morpher beeped ominously.

"Bomb?!" Her mother echoed the sentiment.

That being of complete horror.

MODEL E-0 HAS BEEN PROGRAMMED TO RESIST ANY AND ALL FORMS OF TAMPERING AND UNAUTHORIZED ACQUISITION. IF ANY ATTEMPTS ARE MADE TO REMOVE THIS UNIT OR HINDER ITS MISSION, THE E-0 WILL CONSIDER ITS MISSION FAILED AND SELF-DESTRUCT.

Taylor felt nauseated, head spinning as she struggled to keep from just fainting. All this time, she was lugging around a bomb strapped to her wrist. And what more, did that mean that had she been captured by the MRS agents back at the scrapyard the morpher would have terminated itself and her?

AFFIRMATIVE. HOST SAFETY AND INTEGRITY IS SECONDARY.

ALL FORMS OF ACCESS REQUIRE PREVIOUS AUTHORIZATION.

FAILURE TO DO SO WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE TERMINATION OF HOST AND UNIT.

THIS UNIT WILL ENSURE SUCCESSFUL COMPLETION OF ALL OBJECTIVES.

"What, Taylor, did the device say?"

"That it'll explode if anyone tries to tamper with it without permission!"

"At all?"

"It was very clear on that, yes."

Before the two of them could devolve into mindless fretting, as was expected of people in this kind of situation, a loud ringing sent the two of them off their feet. Scared by the sudden blaring notice which turned out to be her mother's cellphone.

Taylor slumped back into the couch, hand over her frantically beating heart. Breathing heavily as she tried to regain control.

"Holy shit mom…."

If her mother cared for the brusque language, she didn't show it. Eye immediately gluing themselves to the screen of her phone. Scanning a message.

"Turn on the news sweety."

Blinking in mild confusion, the young woman did just that, scrambling around for a remote that had slipped behind the cushions.

"-scene of utter devastation. Eye witness accounts have described mass panic, death on a scale not seen since Behemoth emerged and levelled half of Baghdad. A confirmation from the Minister of the Interior that Mesogog has been sighted along with the Three Blasphemies. Marseille is just gone. Everyone inside a radius of about two miles from the blast zone was killed outright and the rest of the city has been turned into these horrific monstrosities."

"Thanks Thomas, stay safe out there."

On the screen was a live feed of a crowd of monstrous, dinosaur-like things roughly the size of a human tearing into walls of French military personnel. Gunfire was clear, the soldiers firing wildly into the surging crowd, as an american gunship strafed the mass from above.

"Grim news has come in from southern France, where the coastal city of Marseille has just been attacked. Tens of thousands are dead, perhaps more, and the world is already scrambling a large scale response. Four Ranger squads are already enroute while the United States air assets in France have been activated and are providing support to French police and military formations on the ground. Thankfully, the creates unleashed seem to be slow to leave their area of creation and the military response was instantaneous. If not for that, then only God knows how badly today could have gone."

The news cycle rolled on and on, covering all the horrors unleashed in less than an hour by a single madman. Things slowly growing ever more grim as the true extent of the horror was uncovered. But, if nothing else, it put Taylor's situation in stark perspective.

That was when the screen flickered.

Or rather, twisted and warped as something appeared to interfere with the signal. Scenes of the ongoing battle growing dimmer and unfocused as the faint outline of something grew to take its place. It was a face, bulbous and ridged with pale green skin and red scales appearing nearly like veins on its brow.

A crown.

The thing seemed to finally notice it was being watched, regarding the camera with curious intent.

It smiled.

A maw of malformed fangs forming a twisted caricature of a glasgow grin.

That was when the footage cut off. The screen finally growing dark.

Emergency lights were still on as troopers in full armor manned every hallway.

Tommy nodded as they waved him through, the badge on his chest was tagged to his biosignature after all, and he stepped into the Ranger muster station.

Located in downtown Brockton Bay - and not on the massive oil rig off the coast - this area was a barracks slash personal area for the trainee squad. Seven teenagers, after all, tended to need a lot of space. Amy Johannes, Theo Anders, Carlos Menendez, Rory Christner, Chris Black, Sophia Hess, and Browbeat were the current Provisional Ranger Auxiliary Training Squad of the Protectorate ENE.

Otherwise known as P.R.A.T.S.

Not the most… flattering acronym. But Tommy always got a small laugh out of it.

His thoughts on their mental health aside, in particular Browbeat's, as the boy no longer used his actual name but insisted on using a codename, they were a competent group. With Johannes being the strongest of the group in terms of compatibility and Christner and Menendez both natural leaders.

'I wonder if they'll end up being the Red and Blue Rangers of a squad, or if they'll both end up Reds.'

It wasn't uncommon for trainees to be assigned to different teams once their probationary period was over. In fact, Tommy himself had been part of a larger team during his probation and later went on to lead his own squad.

It was a sign of growth. A passing of the torch, so to speak.

Though there was something to be said about trainees with high potential being poached by other branches of the MRS.

Especially those with unique abilities and high base compatibility.

Those hadn't been factors back when he started. Mutants weren't that common before Hansik's rampage through the country. And morpher compatibility wasn't as necessary as base skill and combat experience.

It felt nostalgic to walk the hallways of a training facility again, after so long. Tommy hadn't expected to return one day, not with how hectic things had been back on his youth. And with how things were turning out now? Well, he wasn't sure how long he had before taking the next plane to Europe.

"Tommy! Over here!" Hana came around the corner, wearing a tactical vest and sporting a rather beefy revolver in a thigh holster. "Come on. I'm supposed to take you to the secure records room. But are you sure this is the time to be doing this? The French army just mobilized and the British, Germans, Austrians, Italians, Spanish, Greek, Czech, Polish, and Hungarian armed forces are all providing support as well."

"NATO mobilized?"

"Nah." She shook her head. "The UNGDI is mobilizing. American and Russian forces are on standby, but they're mostly maintaining a perimeter. The Euro-Center forces are handling the quarantine and evacuation."

He whistled. This really was a big deal.

"Damn. The British carrier group Holdfast was off the coast of Sardinia, right? Are they going to be able to handle eight hundred thousand odd survivors if they go by sea?"

Shrugging, the dusky skinned woman simply kept moving.

"No idea. But they're providing air support for the Ranger teams on the ground. Really though, should you be looking for our mystery bad guy right now?"

"My gut says they aren't connected, but Mezogog attacking right after they showed up? And with those three freaks? I think it's best I do something useful. And if this is the start of something big, I'd rather have this problem squared away before it escalates."

While he was still affiliated with the MRS, Tommy had effectively retired as a Ranger and so couldn't get involved with large scale threats. Rather, he was expected to act as an instructor first and investigator second as a special exception to the rule.

Even so, he couldn't help but feel like there was something he was missing.

The rogue he and his fellow instructors had faced hadn't shown any sign of proper combat training and their psychic abilities were well above the norm even for someone enhanced with a morpher.

He still held onto his theory of the person being someone caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or at the very least someone who intended to retrieve the morpher without knowledge of what it might do.

Hana handed him a sizable stack of papers, including with names and photos.

"We managed to acquire the files on all registered psychics we had on the system. If they are registered, we can track down the ones closest to the area and then interrogate them one by one."

"Or we could completely miss them. We don't know whether the morpher enhanced psychic ability or granted it outright. Let's not restrict ourselves to a single detail this early."

Many crimes and incidents tended to be a matter of circumstance.

Someone who was present at the wrong place, making the wrong decision.

It was hard to imagine someone would have planned to retrieve an illegal morpher around the same time a team of MRS veterans would be present to investigate a megazord signal. If the incident had been planned, the culprit wouldn't have waited until the authorities arrived. They would have left as soon as possible.

Slowly, a picture started forming inside the veteran's mind.

First, the culprit intended to find the morpher, as evidenced by the destroyed casing.

Second, the culprit did not intend to fight against them. They dodged and ran and did everything to escape after that initial, wild blast.

Third, the culprit did not have previous skill in fighting. Or if so, did not know enough of the morpher to fight unhampered by its effects, leading to clumsy usage of the technology. Which means that using the morpher was never their intent.

He would lay out these conclusions to both his colleagues at a later point.

After he managed to gather more evidence.

"I suppose I am going out on a bit of a limb here, but do you have an office or conference room I can spread out in back here?"

"Yeah. It's a study room for the Prats. Just back here."

The well armed woman led him back to a quiet, private room, large enough for a dozen to sit comfortably, and turned her radio to low before grabbing a well worn armchair.

As the veterean sat down, he took a moment to appreciate the low hum of the air conditioner - the only noise in an otherwise silent room. His seat in question was a straight backed thing, without cushions or padding, and angled to face the entrance with its back to wall. Old habits, after all, died hard. And as he spread out the dozen odd profiles, he found himself confronted by a rather annoying detail.

"They have absolutely nothing in common."

Young, old. Male, female. Of half a dozen races. It was a practical rainbow of supernatural abilities because even their powers ran a wide gamut of combinations and specializations.

Not to mention the wide range of backgrounds.

Like a young teacher who could draw the focus of his students, or the repeat offender who could paralyze people within range. Or the toddler who could communicate with his parents despite not being able to talk normally.

They were, obviously, exempting the latter from suspicion.

It soon became apparent that the broadness of their assailant's ability wasn't something most psychics had. Meaning it was possible that the morpher was an enhancer after all.

"Animal communication, physical manipulation, perhaps even some empathic ability?" He thumbed through the files.

"It's too much for a single parahuman. Even the most powerful are hyper specialized." Hana mentioned offhandedly.

She was right, of course.

"And even those who are, are under tight watch. Something is bound to come up." A new voice added.

Tommy looked up from his own file at the opened door. A small smile tugging at his lips at his cybernetically enhanced coworker.

"You're welcome to join us Colin. The paperwork won't handle itself."

The man simply nodded. Taking his own seat as he swiftly looked over the documents.

"We can't narrow down the list unless we can guess at what ability is the main one. We will have more to work with once we begin interviews. Alibis will be checked and testimonies will be taken. The early steps of this investigation are to establish those who are exempt from suspicion by default." Colin spoke, eyes zeroing on a file of interest.

This one that of a telepath from Massachusetts.

Wheelchair bound, of course. So he was filed under 'exempt'.

'For now.' You couldn't be sure with morphers, after all.

Tommy felt like pointing out that the other two weren't exactly supposed to be helping in the early stages of the investigation. They were, after all, instructors and emergency reserves. He was the only one given leeway when it came to acting outside the role of instructor for the newest team of recruits.

He wouldn't, however.

Because all of them had the same thing in mind. The same impulse to march towards the Director's office, or failing that, the nearest airport. After seeing what they had on live TV and then being ordered to stand down and figuratively hold the fort, it was only a matter of time before one of them decided to throw caution to the wind.

It was best they find something to distract themselves with,

The crisis of international proportion going on would be handled by younger and equally capable Rangers.

'Until the time comes for us to be called. We need to do all we can to help.' Be it training the newest group of P.R.A.T.S. or by devoting their time to investigating a mysterious rogue morpher.

It was all they could do.

"What about this girl?" Pushing one file forward in particular, Hana tapped the young woman's photo. "She's a telepath with minor telekinetic abilities, documented entomopath, and with a high score on her compatibility tests. And hasn't even been to a boxing gym once according to her interview."

This one was a definite maybe. And, in fact, with a Brockton Bay native.

"Hmm. Above seventy five percent compatibility and a unique ability? Why wasn't she scouted."

Colin fielded this question.

"To be blunt, she was out of shape. A bit overweight, awkward and too tall, and she simply didn't have the degree of aggression Rangers need. Not that she was a coward, of course. Simply that she was passive. Almost too passive. I think her profile was flagged for a later review, though. Something about a second look? I can't access the information remotely for some reason."

Tommy sighed and rubbed his chin.

'Gonna need to shave soon. Looking a bit dirty.'

"Ok. We've got three good candidates. The guy who can paralyze people, the kid in the wheelchair with the high telepath ratings, and the girl who was up for review. How do you guys wanna split these up?"

"If you don't mind, I'll take the young man in the wheelchair. After all, I think I can find some common ground there." Tapping his metallic limbs, the cyborg gave his compatriots a wry grin.

"In that case, I'll take the punk. The girl's profile mentions she idolizes you in particular. So, if she's our guy and if she does try to run, things might not go as nasty if it's you. And besides, I never get to do fieldwork anymore."

Laughing, the former White Ranger shook his head.

"Clear it with your boss first. But, yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Anything in particular I should know?"

Discussing the particulars of the Bay, the trio spent the next thirty minutes waiting for news on the utter disaster going on halfway around the world. They were trying to remind themselves that they weren't the young kids they used to be. That their time had come and gone. But Tommy's foot never stopped moving, Hana's trigger finger never stopped itching, and Colin's long since lost limbs ached.

They were soldiers, they would follow orders. But that didn't mean they were happy about it.

There was, in all Men, a need. For victory, for conquest, for the virgin soil of new lands to be turned up and given over to their crops. To raise a homestead, to create for their get a world better than the one they inherited. In so, so many ways could it be perverted or twisted or simply… tainted.

"So Mezogog succeeded?"

"Aye. Four Rangers lie dead, a dozen more seriously injured."

"His little pets are dead though. Any he didn't take with him will be butchered by the sheer weight of fire power there. And I doubt he'll care enough to rescue any of his test subjects."

The questioner looked to his left and then to his right. A man and a woman, both dressed in simple pressed suits, both speaking politely and in even tones. But so unalike each other that it was almost amusing.

On his left, the man sat, half machine as huge parts of his flesh had been melted and warped and twisted by the foul sorceries and even more unclean mutagens he'd indulged in.

On his right the woman was inhuman, almost elfin. Her hair was wild and twisted, while her painted face seemed a touch comedic when compared to her pantsuit, no one would be stupid enough to say that.

"Still, the Rangers in Europe are weakened. And with so many monsters running rampant, I'm sure it will distract our opposition for a time. Is All Father's… successor ready?"

Snorting, the cyborg shook his head.

"All Father was a monster. But at least he had a sense of control. His brat is just that - a spoiled brat. Steel Victory, she calls herself, and the dark valkyr worship her. But yes. She is ready to attack. I doubt, however, that there will be anything worth killing in such an insignificant city. Can you at least convince her to target Boston?"

Narrowing his eyes, the questioner glared at the man until the mutilated machine man lowered his head.

"She will attack where and when she desires. And, if she does not fail utterly, will bring us a prize beyond imagining. Though… perhaps… we should prepare."

A tense silence fell over the room.

They all knew what was at stake, the value of the prize which had so suddenly resurfaced after over a decade. They had written it off as a lost cause, taken by the forces of the MRS or lost in the battle against the mighty Leviathan. The latter would have offered them at least some measure of malicious satisfaction.

But now… providence smiled upon them.

A signal, weak as it was, had been sent to one of their research facilities. A beacon connected to one of their older transport models. The sort they used back during the infancy of their organization.

The lost trump card which would allow them to overturn their stalemate in this war against the Rangers. Lost in a dump in a nowhere city amongst the trash. Activated by whatever poor soul had seen fit to stick their nose into their business. Perhaps they ought to thank this unknown variable for bringing back to light this valuable piece.

"Regardless… caution should dictate our next move. Steel Victory will provide the perfect smokescreen, while our friend overseas will keep the MRS occupied with his army of mutant soldiers."

Mesogog would do his part. Rampage and draw as much attention as was needed.

The man turned hybrid had his own designs. As did their own group.

"You plan to send agents of our own." The woman deduced, garnering a small smirk from the figure.

She was fast on the uptake. One did not climb as high as she did without learning to read the signs. Though he'd admit that her ruthlessness more than made up for whatever skills she may lack.

A dangerous rival, yet much more useful as an ally.

"None of our own." He finally answered. "We cannot afford to have our efforts linked back together. Instead, I would have Ransik send a group of his followers to make contact with our new… acquaintance."

The mutant in question gave a curt nod.

"I will send word to one of my extraction teams. They will secure the asset."

A mocking giggle escaped the woman to his side.

"You have something to say?" Ransik growled.

"Oh, nothing of the sort my dear. Only that I look forward to… picking up the slack."

A second was all it took for the warped abomination that had once been human to draw his sword, its chrome blade flashing in the dark as it aimed for the woman's neck.

Before stilling. Frozen in place. The woman's hand following suit

"While I appreciate your… enthusiasm. There will be a time and place for differences to be settled, my friends. And this is not it."

The words, hissed with malevolent glee, echoed through the room. A heavy intent behind them which would have driven lesser men to their knees in fear. His two conspirators, however, were cut from stronger cloth.

Thus they were only paralyzed.

"I expect a modicum of civility amongst us. Anything less will spell a weakness in our unified front against our shared enemy."

He turned away from them.

"Weaknesses are to be addressed or eliminated. Am I making myself clear?"

His hold over the two slackened at last. Allowing them to immediately separate, their focus drawn to him.

"Crystal clear."

"It would be our shame to displease you."

The mastermind nodded in acknowledgement. "Excellent."

"Now, Bansheera, since you wish for a task… and since you wish to prove your superiority, Ransik, I shall allow you a competition. Whichever of you recovers the Elite Zero gets to keep it. Whether by force or with a silver tongue, see it done. I imagine whomever it is that has recovered our most wondrous of weapons will be rather hard pressessed to resist both of you."

Finished with his subordinates, this man turned away. Their dismissal clear, both inclined their heads and left. There was no need for more threats, more flattery, more of anything.

"I do suppose it's coming together now. But… I wonder… will it be enough?"