The story begins in Angel Grove where five teenagers were recruited to fight the evil space sorceress, Rita Repulsa.
Under the guidance of a legendary interdimensional being known as Zordon, Billy Cranston, Jason Lee Scott, Kimberly Hart, Trini Kwan and Zack Taylor harnessed the power of the dinosaur to become Power Rangers, forcing Rita Repulsa to create her own Power Ranger…
Chapter 1.
The Chamber of Secrets
The Chamber of Secrets was suffocating. Its cold, damp air clung to Harry's skin, heavy with the stench of decay and the faint metallic tang of blood. The flickering torchlight threw distorted shadows onto the walls, and the faint hiss of the basilisk echoed, sharp and malevolent, like steel scraping against stone.
Harry's heart pounded in his chest, so loud he was sure the serpent could hear it. His hands trembled as he clutched the hilt of Godric Gryffindor's sword, the ancient weapon far too large and unwieldy for his small, shaking hands. His fingers felt slick with sweat, the weight of the blade dragging down his arm. He didn't know how to hold it properly, let alone use it.
The basilisk emerged from the shadows with a roar, its massive, scaled body undulating as it moved. The sound of its movement was a sinister, grating whisper, like the death rattle of a thousand snakes. Its emerald eyes, deadly and hypnotic, burned with a hunger that made Harry's blood run cold.
Harry kept his gaze averted, the instinct to look up—to see the thing that wanted him dead—warring with his terror. His knees felt weak, and his chest tightened as the serpent reared back, its towering form blotting out the chamber's dim light.
He had no plan. No training. He was just a twelve-year-old boy with a sword too heavy for him to wield properly, standing alone against a monster born of nightmares.
The basilisk struck.
Harry threw himself to the ground, the sound of its jaws snapping shut reverberating through the chamber. He rolled, the sword scraping against the stone floor, his palms burning as he scrambled to his feet.
It came at him again, faster this time. He swung the sword wildly, the blade biting into the air and meeting nothing. His arms felt like lead, his muscles screaming in protest.
The serpent lunged.
Harry tried to dodge, but the basilisk's massive tail whipped out, striking him square in the chest. The force of the blow sent him flying backward, the impact stealing the breath from his lungs. He hit the ground hard, pain exploding in his ribs.
The sword skittered out of his grasp, clattering to the floor just out of reach.
"No, no, no." Harry gasped, his vision swimming as he scrambled toward it, his fingers brushing the hilt just as the basilisk loomed over him.
Its hiss was deafening now, a bone-chilling sound that seemed to pierce straight through him. The creature's head darted forward, and Harry grabbed the sword with both hands, lifting it with all the strength he could muster.
The blade met the serpent's flesh, slicing into its thick, armored hide. The basilisk let out a screech of pain, rearing back. Harry scrambled to his feet, the sword shaking in his hands as the serpent twisted and lashed out again, its fangs bared.
He swung the sword wildly, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. The weight of the blade threatened to pull him off balance with every strike. His breath came in ragged gasps, his vision blurred with sweat and tears.
"Stay back!" he shouted, his voice cracking with panic.
The basilisk lunged again, and this time, Harry wasn't fast enough. Its fang sank into his arm, a white-hot pain that shot through his entire body. He screamed, the sound raw and guttural, as the venom burned through his veins like liquid fire.
He stumbled backward, the sword falling from his grasp as his legs buckled beneath him. The world tilted, his vision dimming at the edges.
He was going to die.
But then, through the haze of pain and fear, a soft, melodic sound reached him.
The phoenix soared down from above, its golden feathers glowing like a beacon in the darkness. It landed beside Harry, its eyes filled with a calm, ancient wisdom. As its tears fell onto his wound, the burning pain began to subside, replaced by a soothing warmth.
Harry's strength returned, but the fear still gripped him. He was barely holding on, every movement sluggish and desperate. He reached for the sword once more, his fingers curling around the hilt as he forced himself to stand.
The basilisk charged.
With a primal scream, Harry thrust the sword upward as the serpent's massive head descended. The blade pierced the roof of its mouth, driving deep into its skull.
The creature let out a final, earsplitting wail, its body thrashing violently before collapsing to the ground in a lifeless heap.
Harry stood there, swaying on his feet, his chest heaving. Blood dripped from his arm, mixing with the thick, dark ichor pooling around the basilisk's corpse. His entire body trembled, his legs barely supporting him.
He had won. But it didn't feel like a victory.
The chamber was silent now, but the echoes of the fight lingered in Harry's mind. The fear, the pain, the overwhelming certainty that he was going to die — it was all too much.
He sank to his knees, the sword slipping from his grasp. His breaths came in shallow gasps, his vision blurring with tears.
High above, on a distant and desolate moon, Rita Repulsa sat in her palace, gazing down into the swirling depths of her dark crystal viewing globe. The mist inside rippled and shifted, revealing the scene below — a boy standing over the lifeless body of the basilisk, his form bathed in the fading light. Her dark eyes gleamed with cruel delight as she took in the image of Harry Potter, the boy who lived, standing victorious in a chamber filled with the echoes of his battle.
"Impressive." she purred softly, her voice dripping with malice, as her fingers idly traced the rim of her goblet. A cruel, twisted smile spread across her lips, and for a moment, a low chuckle escaped her throat. "Yes... very impressive."
With each passing second, the seeds of her plan began to sprout. Rita could see it clearly now — the perfect champion, the perfect weapon. Harry's raw power, his fierce defiance, his unyielding spirit — everything about him screamed potential. The Power Rangers, that meddlesome group, had become an obstacle to her rule. But with the right partner, she could crush them once and for all.
Her fingers twitched as she leaned closer to the globe, her dark eyes gleaming. "He will be mine." she whispered, her voice filled with venom. "He will be my Green Ranger."
The crystal swirled, and the image of Harry wavered and flickered. Rita's mind, dark and calculating, churned with possibilities. She would be patient, she would wait — until the moment was right. But Harry Potter would not remain free for long. He would serve her. He would be the tool to finally bring her enemies to their knees.
Standing from her throne, Rita raised her hand high, summoning the dark magic that swirled around her, weaving together the dark threads of her plot. The room around her seemed to warp with energy as she spoke a word of command, and the crystal's vision darkened. The plan was already set into motion.
Back in the Chamber of Secrets, Harry remained unaware of the danger that was about to engulf him. He was still catching his breath, his heart still racing from the battle. The basilisk lay still at his feet, but there was no rest for the weary.
King's Cross Station
Harry stumbled through the barrier, dragging his trolly laden with his trunk and Hedwig's case behind him. Uncle Vernon was waiting near the exit, his face as red and blotchy as ever, mustache twitching with impatience.
"Hurry up, boy." he snapped, not even bothering to glance back as he turned on his heel.
Harry sighed, gripping the trolley tighter as he followed his uncle through the bustling station. The chatter of families, the screech of trains, and the distant clatter of footsteps all blended together in a dizzying symphony of normality.
The events of the last few weeks had left a mark on him deeper than anyone could see. He felt raw, like an exposed nerve, every sound too loud, every movement too sharp. His thoughts were a swirling chaos, the memories he wanted to forget playing on an endless loop in his mind.
The darkness, cold and suffocating, pressed against him even now as if it seeped into his very soul. He could still see the grotesque carvings on the chamber walls, the giant serpent statues standing silent and watchful, and the glistening pools of water that reflected the monster waiting within.
He'd been so sure he was going to die. The basilisk's fangs flashing in the dim light, the stench of its breath filling the air, its scales scraping against the stone floor, every detail was burned into his memory.
He'd fought it, somehow. The Sword of Gryffindor had been heavy in his hands, unwieldy, and he'd barely known how to hold it, let alone use it. He swung blindly, adrenaline and terror driving every movement. But no matter how many times he replayed it in his head, he couldn't forget the sickening sound of the basilisk's fang piercing his arm, the venom coursing through his veins, leaving him weak and trembling.
The phoenix had saved him, with his tears that healed wounds and his song that strengthened courage. But even after he had walked out of that chamber alive, it hadn't felt like a victory.
Harry's breath hitched as the memories clawed at him. He tightened his grip on the trolley, forcing himself to keep moving through the crowd.
He hadn't been himself after it was over. He couldn't eat. He didn't sleep.
A child's laugh rang out nearby, and Harry flinched at the sound, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. He glanced around, disoriented. The station seemed brighter, louder, too alive for how hollow he felt inside.
The faces of travelers blurred as Harry blinked rapidly, struggling to steady himself. He hadn't told anyone how badly the Chamber had shaken him. Ron had been there, of course, but he hadn't seen the monster the way he had. He hadn't been alone with it, staring into its deadly green eyes, knowing death was just seconds away.
His hands began to tremble, and he shoved them into his pockets, hoping Uncle Vernon wouldn't notice.
Ahead, his uncle barked at someone to move out of his way, his voice cutting through the noise of the station. Harry's legs felt like lead as he followed, his mind still trapped in the chamber.
He was so consumed by his thoughts, by the weight of everything he had been through, that he almost didn't notice it at first.
The air around him grew colder, sharper.
Harry frowned, glancing up. The noise of the station, the murmurs, the footsteps, the distant roar of a train, all began to fade, replaced by an eerie, unnatural stillness.
The lights overhead flickered once, twice, and then plunged the platform into darkness. Harry's breath hitched as a sharp chill ran down his spine.
He turned to look for Uncle Vernon, but his uncle's broad back had disappeared into the shadows. The station, which had been alive with movement moments ago, now felt deserted.
A creeping dread settled over Harry, coiling tightly in his chest. He reached instinctively for his wand, his fingers brushing the edge of his pocket.
And then he heard it.
A laugh.
It echoed through the silence, sharp and high-pitched, crawling under his skin. Harry froze, his heart slamming against his ribs. The sound was mocking, cruel, and it sent a shiver down his spine.
"Harry…"
The voice was soft, sibilant, and it came from everywhere at once.
"Harry… I have chosen you."
He spun around, his wand now clutched tightly in his hand. But there was nothing. Just darkness stretching endlessly in every direction.
Harry spun, his heart pounding in his chest as his head whipped around, searching for the source of the voice. His body felt stiff, his legs unsteady, his vision spinning. There was nothing. No one. Just the suffocating blackness pressing against him like some terrible weight.
"No!" Harry shouted, his voice barely breaking the silence. His hands trembled violently at his sides, and the words escaped him in a strangled cry. His throat tightened, raw with panic.
He reached for his wand, fingers scrambling, the familiar warmth of it just out of his reach. The cold air pressed down on him, sapping his strength, draining him of any will to move. His wand slipped through his shaking hands, clattering to the ground with a hollow, echoing sound that was swallowed instantly by the silence.
It was too late. He could feel it now. The darkness wasn't just a void, it was alive, waiting for something. And that something was him.
The world around him began to shift and warp. A swirl of kaleidoscopic colors erupted from the edges of his vision, bending, twisting, stretching as if the fabric of reality itself were unraveling. The air itself seemed to tremble, vibrating with an unseen force. The sounds of King's Cross, the murmurs, the distant clatter of trains, the hustle of Muggles, all faded away, replaced by the rising, overwhelming hum of magic.
And then, as if the very world had folded in on itself, Harry was gone.
The silence pressed in, and everything disappeared.
The Moon Palace
The moment Harry's vision cleared, he was no longer standing in King's Cross. Instead, he found himself in a cavernous, dark chamber, surrounded by walls of jagged black stone. The air was heavy, thick with the scent of cold earth and the pulsing hum of dark magic. Every inch of the room seemed alive, vibrating with a force he couldn't comprehend, its energy both intoxicating and terrifying.
Harry's pulse quickened as he took in the sight of a throne made of twisted, obsidian metal, where a woman sat, regal and imposing. Her eyes — sharp, calculating, and filled with something deeper, fixed on him with unnerving calm.
She was… beautiful, in a way that was almost too perfect, yet there was something about her presence that radiated power and control.
Harry's breath caught. He didn't know where he was, or how he'd arrived, but one thing was certain, this was no ordinary witch. And the unsettling pull he felt towards her... he couldn't ignore it.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, before the woman finally spoke.
"Welcome, Harry," she said, her voice rich and smooth like velvet, but carrying an undercurrent of something far darker. There was no mockery in her tone, just a deep, predatory knowledge.
Harry's instincts screamed at him to fight, to flee, but his feet were rooted to the floor. His wand, where was it? His throat tightened. "Who are you?" he demanded, trying to force the words through the thickness of fear clawing at his chest
The woman smiled slowly, the curve of her lips almost maternal, as if she were about to tell him a great secret. "I am Rita Repulsa." she said, her name like a whispered curse. "And you, Harry, are far more than you realize."
He glanced around desperately, but the cold stone walls offered no answers. Rita's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, like a sharp blade, focused and unyielding.
"You're stronger than you realize, Harry," she continued, her gaze unwavering, heavy with meaning. "Stronger than they've ever allowed you to be."
Harry's chest tightened at her words. A knot formed in his stomach, something deep and primal stirring inside him.
Rita's smile deepened, a knowing glimmer in her eyes as she tilted her head, watching him like a hawk sizing up its prey. "I've seen it, Harry. The way you fight. The way you endure. The basilisk. The Chamber of Secrets." Her voice softened slightly, as if remembering the battles he'd faced. "You faced death and emerged victorious, not because someone told you to, but because you chose to. Because you have the strength they'll never admit."
Her words stung, deep, like an open wound that hadn't quite healed. Harry's thoughts flashed back to that night in the Chamber. He'd faced it all alone. The suffocating darkness. The smell of damp stone and blood.
The venomous green eyes of the basilisk bore down on him, unrelenting and cold. His hands trembling as he gripped the Sword of Gryffindor. He could still hear the hiss of the serpent, the sickening scrape of its scales against the chamber floor.
He'd swung the sword blindly, sheer terror driving his every movement. The weight of the blade had nearly pulled him down with each strike, his arms weak and clumsy. The basilisk's fangs were inches from his face, its venom dripping, hissing as it met the stone.
Then there was the searing pain. A fang had pierced his arm, white-hot agony spreading through his body like wildfire. He remembered the phoenix's tears, the sensation of his life slipping away, and then being yanked back at the very edge.
He had survived. But the scars were deeper than the bite on his arm.
"And what did they do after?" Her voice softened, almost a whisper, but it struck Harry like a slap. "Did they celebrate you? No. They sent you back to those awful relatives. To that prison."
The words struck like a slap, cutting through Harry's defenses. The truth of them burned, gnawing at him. He could hear Uncle Vernon's bellowing, Aunt Petunia's cold indifference, the mocking laughter of Dudley. He could feel the isolation, the years of being ignored, of being nothing more than an inconvenience. It was a prison, no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise.
"You are a child." Rita continued, her voice laced with sympathy. "A child who deserves love, guidance, respect. And what do they give you? A cupboard. Indifference. Scraps." She leaned forward, her gaze locking onto his. "And Dumbledore? He lets it happen. He abandons you there, to that prison he calls a home, knowing full well what they are."
Harry's heart thudded painfully in his chest. She can't be right… But her words burrowed deep, finding cracks in his armor he didn't know were there. Dumbledore had always said it was for Harry's own good — but had he ever really cared for him? Or had he simply been using him?
"Don't you see it yet?" she pressed, her voice turning to a sharp, cutting whisper. "Dumbledore does not care for you. He's used you. He's always used you. A weapon in his little war. That's all you are to him." Her tone turned soft again, almost soothing, as she took a step closer, her eyes never leaving his. "But I see you, Harry. I see the real you. The strength they buried, the fire they tried to snuff out. You are more than the boy who lived. And I will give you the power to be free."
Harry recoiled, shaking his head. "You don't know what you're talking about." he muttered, trying to hold onto his resolve, to fight the doubts creeping into his mind.
Rita's smile deepened, though her eyes never left his. "Don't I?" she whispered. "Look around you, Harry. What has this world ever given you? A life of neglect, of sacrifice, of being told what to do, where to go, who to fight for." She took another step closer, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial tone. "But I see you. I see the anger, the frustration you've buried for so long. And I see the potential."
Her words hit like a lightning strike, igniting a flame within him. Frustration. Anger. How often had he felt it, deep inside, that rage at being used by everyone around him, at being nothing more than a tool?
"With me, Harry…" She reached out and touched his arm, her cold fingers sending a jolt through his body. "With me, you can finally take control. No more shackles. No more playing their game. You will no longer be a pawn in their game. You will be free. You will be powerful."
The words echoed through him, vibrating with an energy he had never known.
"The world doesn't need multiple leaders, Harry." Rita murmured, her tone now softer, almost reverent. "It needs one. And you, Harry… you are the one." She raised her hand slowly, as if offering him something that would change everything. "I choose you. You are my Green Ranger."
She held out her hand, palm open, and in it, the Dragon Coin gleamed, faintly glowing with emerald light.
Harry stared at it, his hand trembling as he slowly reached out.
"What do you say?" Rita whispered, her voice dripping with dark promise. "Take it, Harry. Take what is rightfully yours."
For a moment, Harry stood frozen, the weight of her words crashing into him. His mind raced, his heart pulsed in his ears. But the thought of finally taking control, was too alluring to ignore. This was his chance, his one chance to stop being used, to stop being controlled.
He closed his eyes for just a second. And when he opened them again, his fingers were brushing the coin.
A surge of energy coursed through him, burning him from the inside out. The room seemed to tremble as green light spiraled around him, transforming his body, his very being. His clothes vanished in a flash of light, replaced by a suit of gleaming emerald and gold armor, the Dragon Coin burning bright against his chest.
He stood tall, feeling the surge of magic crackle through him, the power exhilarating, overwhelming, yet perfectly balanced. The voice that came from his lips was no longer just his own, but something far deeper, ancient, and commanding.
His voice, now deep and commanding, reverberated through the chamber. "How can I serve you, my Queen?"
Rita's eyes gleamed with triumph. "Together, Harry. We will change everything."
The shadows seemed to bow to him, the very air bending around his new power.
The Dark Dimension
The Dark Dimension was a place of shadows and echoes, a suffocating void where light dared not pierce the oppressive gloom. The air itself felt thick, as though it was infused with a malevolent energy that gnawed at your very soul. The land, if it could even be called that, was jagged and barren, a cruel wasteland designed to break even the most resilient.
The Green Ranger had long since stopped being weak. He was forged in this darkness now.
He stood at the center of the empty expanse, the Dragon Dagger loosely held in his grip. Its green energy pulsed, faint but steady, as though it were alive, responding to his presence. The dagger's glow barely touched the thick shadows that surrounded him, but to the Green Ranger, it was enough. He was ready.
Goldar and Scorpina circled like wolves, their eyes sharp and calculating. They could sense the power radiating from him, but they underestimated it. Harry was done waiting. He was done being cautious.
He was done being the confused boy he used to be.
Goldar roared and surged forward, his massive sword raised high. He moved with all the fury of a cornered beast, determined to crush the Green Ranger beneath his strength.
The Green Ranger didn't flinch. Didn't move to dodge.
Instead, he stepped forward, meeting Goldar's charge with calm, terrifying precision. His face was cold, detached. His eyes, hard as stone, locked on Goldar's massive form as he raised the Dragon Dagger.
Without warning, the Green Ranger swung the dagger. The green energy flared like lightning, and with a sickening crack, a wave of raw power erupted from the dagger, crashing into Goldar's chest.
Goldar's roar of pain filled the air, but the Green Ranger wasn't listening. Goldar was sent flying backward, his golden armor cracking and buckling under the force. He slammed into the jagged earth with a thunderous crash, rolling several feet before finally coming to a stop.
The Green Ranger didn't even look back.
As Goldar struggled to rise, Scorpina wasted no time. Her blade gleamed as she dashed toward the Green Ranger, her movements swift and deadly. But the Green Ranger didn't retreat. He surged forward with a cold, almost cruel speed, meeting her with a swing of the Dragon Dagger that split the air like thunder.
The dagger crashed into her blade with an earsplitting clash of steel and energy. The force sent a tremor through the very ground beneath their feet, and Scorpina was pushed back, her weapon rattling in her grip as she staggered.
Before she could recover, the Green Ranger was already on her, his eyes flashing with an icy, predatory malice.
Without hesitation, he swung the dagger again. This time, he aimed for the ground, unleashing a surge of green energy that cracked the earth open beneath her feet. The force of the blast sent Scorpina tumbling backward, her body crashing into the jagged stone walls that seemed to rise from nowhere.
Her breath left her in a painful wheeze, and she struggled to push herself back up, eyes flashing with fury and disbelief.
Goldar had risen again, fury evident in the hard lines of his face. His pride, more than his body, had been wounded. He charged again, his sword slashing through the air with a ferocity that could split mountains.
The Green Ranger's response was immediate and merciless. He didn't retreat. He didn't even sidestep.
He met the charge head-on, raising the Dragon Dagger high as an explosion of green energy erupted from its blade. The collision was cataclysmic, lightning-like arcs of raw power crackled and tore through the air, sending shockwaves that shattered the ground beneath their feet.
Goldar's sword trembled in his hands as he struggled to maintain control, but the Green Ranger was relentless. He twisted the dagger, and with a brutal, calculated movement, he slammed his boot into Goldar's chest, sending the golden warrior flying back several feet. Goldar hit the ground with a guttural roar, a trail of sparks flying from his armor.
The Green Ranger wasn't finished.
Turning swiftly, he faced Scorpina, who was already on her feet again. She was enraged, eyes wide with frustration. But the Green Ranger didn't give her time to make the first move.
He raised the Dragon Dagger once more.
This time, there was no melody, no grace. Just destruction.
He swept the blade through the air with a ferocity that split the very atmosphere. A wave of green energy, a tidal wave of raw, unbridled power, ripped through the ground and smashed into Scorpina like a force of nature. She was sent flying, her body skidding across the jagged stone until she collided with the walls once more.
The impact sounded like thunder, the crash echoing through the empty void.
The ground beneath the Green Ranger's feet trembled, vibrating with the energy he unleashed. He was so much more than he had been just weeks ago. So much more. The weight of his power, the truth of what he had become, was undeniable now.
"You're too slow." he murmured, his voice devoid of emotion as Scorpina struggled to rise.
Goldar roared in anger, pushing himself back to his feet with a grunt of effort. His golden armor was scorched, battered, but his eyes were filled with nothing but rage.
"Watch yourself, boy!" he shouted, his voice filled with venom.
The Green Ranger raised the Dragon Dagger again. This time, a chilling melody filled the air, a sound like a death knell.
The ground shook violently beneath their feet, and from the darkness that stretched to infinity, green tendrils of energy shot out like grasping fingers. They wrapped around Goldar's legs, yanking him to the ground with brutal force. Scorpina, seeing the tendrils, spun on her heels to attack them, but her efforts were futile. Her blade sliced through the tendrils, but more and more appeared, wrapping around her arms and legs with suffocating force.
The tendrils tightened, and Goldar and Scorpina both struggled, unable to break free from the crushing grip of the Green Ranger's power.
The Green Ranger watched them for a long moment, his eyes never leaving them. He didn't say a word.
Then, he lowered the Dragon Dagger, and the tendrils faded, retreating into the shadows like slithering serpents.
Goldar and Scorpina stood, battered and bloodied, but they didn't move. The silent tension between them was thick with grudging respect, and fear.
"You've proven your point." Scorpina muttered through gritted teeth, wiping blood from her lip. "But don't get cocky, kid. The Power Rangers won't be so easy to break."
The Green Ranger didn't react. He didn't even blink. His gaze, cold as ice, shifted to her.
"They'll fall." he said, his voice as flat and emotionless as a stone. "Just like you did."
Goldar and Scorpina exchanged a brief, uneasy glance, but before they could respond, Rita's voice cut through the tension, a soothing, malicious whisper from the shadows.
"My Green Ranger is ready." she purred, her words dripping with satisfaction.
The Green Ranger didn't acknowledge her. Instead, he turned his back on them, the Dragon Dagger pulsing faintly in his grip. His footsteps echoed in the vast emptiness of the Dark Dimension as he walked away, each step resonating with the promise of destruction to come.
The air around him seemed to tremble, as though even the darkness itself was bowing to his power.
And as the Green Ranger disappeared into the shadows, Rita's laugh rang out, a sound of pure triumph, both chilling and beautiful in its certainty.
The Moon Palace
The Moon Palace stood as a monument to ancient power, a sprawling, jagged structure suspended high above the surface of a darkened moon, illuminated by the faint, cold light of distant stars. The vast, domed halls hummed with dark magic, a constant, vibrant pulse that resonated through the cold stone walls. Strange creatures from across the galaxy lingered in the shadows, their eyes watching, silent and still, as if all aware of the vast power that coursed through this place.
The Green Ranger stood in one of the grand chambers, his fingers tracing the smooth edge of the Dragon Dagger, its green glow faint in the dim light. He had spent weeks here, under Rita's watchful eye. She had become more than just a mentor, she was a protector, a guide, someone who had helped him realize the vast potential he'd never known existed within him.
Her presence was overwhelming, her sharp features softened by the dim glow of the palace lights. Her green skin shimmered with a faint iridescence, and her eyes, those eyes, always gleamed with a strange combination of admiration and something darker. When she looked at him, Harry felt as though she could see straight through him, her gaze cutting to the very heart of who he was becoming.
"You're learning fast." Rita's voice rang out, her tone low and almost soothing, though it carried the unmistakable edge of approval. She stood before him now, her flowing robes barely rustling as she moved, like a shadow moving through a shadowed world. "I'm impressed, my Green Ranger."
The Green Ranger turned, a slight smile playing on his lips. "I'm trying." he replied, though his voice still held a hint of uncertainty. His training here had been brutal, testing every limit he thought he had, but with each passing day, he felt himself becoming something new — something powerful. The transition wasn't easy, and it left him questioning everything he thought he knew. But there was no turning back now.
Rita's smile deepened, a flash of something dangerous flickering behind her eyes. "You don't need to try anymore." she said, stepping closer to him. Her voice dropped to a quieter, almost seductive tone. "You're already beyond them, my Green Ranger. Beyond all of them. You're stronger than they'll ever understand."
The Green Ranger's mind briefly flashed back to his life on Earth. He remembered the Dursleys, the neglect, the endless years of being made to feel small, insignificant. He had fought for everything there, always told he wasn't good enough, that he was a freak. And now, standing in the Moon Palace, under Rita's tutelage, it was different. He was no longer a victim. He wasn't the frightened boy he used to be. He was becoming something more.
"What do you want me to do, my Queen?" the Green Ranger asked, his voice quiet but laced with a strange mixture of curiosity and newfound loyalty.
Rita's gaze softened for a moment, and there was something in the way she looked at him that seemed almost maternal, or perhaps something darker, more possessive. "I want you to see, my Green Ranger. I want you to understand just how small Earth really is. There's a whole universe out there, a vast, beautiful, chaotic place, filled with power."
She flicked her wrist, and suddenly, the walls of the chamber shimmered, fading away to reveal holographic images of distant worlds, planets made of ice and fire, cities floating on gaseous clouds, deserts where sentient plants roamed free. The images were breathtaking, each one more mind-blowing than the last. Harry stared, captivated, as the galaxies spun around them.
"This is just a glimpse, my Green Ranger." Rita said, her voice smooth, almost hypnotic. "This universe, full of life, full of civilizations you can't even begin to comprehend. Worlds upon worlds, waiting for someone with the strength to rule them."
A flicker of excitement sparked in the Green Ranger's chest. The enormity of what Rita was showing him overwhelmed his senses. The sheer scale of the universe… He had never considered it before, had never imagined how vast the world could be outside his own narrow existence.
"You were never meant to live a life of limitation." Rita continued, her voice laced with quiet venom. "Not in that cupboard, not with those miserable people." Her lips curled in distaste at the mention of his past. "I can see what they refused to, the power inside of you, the fire that's been buried for so long. I'm the one who gave you the chance to realize it."
The Green Ranger's thoughts flickered again, this time to Dumbledore, the distant headmaster who had always kept his distance. Had Dumbledore really been protecting him all this time? Or had he simply been a pawn in the old wizard's game? The more Rita spoke, the more the Green Ranger began to wonder.
Rita stepped closer, her hand lightly resting on his shoulder, and for a moment, the Green Ranger felt an odd comfort in her touch, even though he knew better than to trust it fully. "You see, my Green Ranger, the universe doesn't work on the principles of love and kindness. No. It works on power. Those who possess it, those who wield it, are the ones who shape the future. And you, Harry, you will be the one to shape the future."
She paused for a moment, her gaze hardening as though lost in some long-held thought, her voice almost a whisper. "The Power Rangers, they are weak. Shackled by their naive sense of justice. They will fall, and you will rise. You were always meant for this."
The fire in the Green Ranger's chest grew. Power. The idea of power, true power. It was intoxicating. To be something more than just The boy who lived, something more than just a weapon in someone else's war. He could be more. He could rule.
"Why me?" the Green Ranger asked quietly, his voice filled with a strange unease. It was as if, for the first time, he wasn't sure if he liked where this was heading.
Rita smiled, but the smile was a sharp thing, full of secrets and unspoken promises. "Because, Harry, I see what they never could. I see your strength. Your fire. And I'm the one who's been protecting you from their lies."
Her voice grew even softer, almost mournful. "I've given you the power they never would. You see, my Green Ranger… I've had my own share of struggles. My father, Master Vile…" She paused, a flicker of bitterness flashing across her face. "He always expected so much from me. A planet. A throne. He gave me a beautiful dragon for my birthday once, a lovely thing, really. But what I wanted, what I needed, was a planet of my own. When he gave me that dragon, I used it to burn down the family castle as a message. As revenge for his inability to see my potential." She laughed, but it was a cold, humorless sound.
The Green Ranger stood there, absorbing her words, and for a moment, he saw a glimpse of something deeper in her eyes, the same anger, the same sense of being underestimated, of being abandoned by those who were supposed to support her. It made sense. Master Vile, her tyrannical father. He had never understood her. And Rito, her half-brother, a useless, bumbling fool, was never taken seriously either. Rita had always had to fight for her place. And now, she was teaching him to fight for his.
"And when I rule… When we rule." he said, his voice quiet but firm, "Will I make them all see how wrong they were?"
"Yes, my Green Ranger." Rita's lips curled into a dark smile, the same smile she had worn when she burned the family castle. "You will rule. You will make them all see how wrong they were. Just as I did. You will make them beg for mercy."
She stepped forward and cupped his face, her touch cool, grounding.
The Green Ranger, emboldened by the intoxicating sense of power he had felt growing within him, decided to ask the question that had been gnawing at the edges of his mind. "My Queen." he began, his voice quiet but resolute, "You've taught me so much, but are you afraid? Is there anyone or anything out there that scares you?"
For a heartbeat, the room seemed to grow colder, the air heavier. Rita's expression didn't falter immediately, but the Green Ranger, with the instincts of someone who had spent years surviving on the fringes of trust, caught the faintest flicker in her eyes, a shadow of vulnerability that vanished as quickly as it appeared.
Rita held his gaze, her expression unreadable for a long moment. Then, with a quiet sigh, she turned away from him, her gaze settling on the swirling holograms of distant worlds. "There is one." she said at last, her voice low, almost a whisper.
The Green Ranger tilted his head, surprised by her admission. "Who?"
Rita's jaw tightened, and for the first time, she seemed smaller, her usual commanding presence dulled. "Lord Zedd."
The name hung in the air, heavy and sharp. The flickering images around them seemed to dim, as if even the mention of his name drew the light from the room. The Green Ranger felt a chill run down his spine. He had never heard her speak of Lord Zedd before, but there was weight in her tone that made the name feel like an invocation.
"Lord Zedd." the Green Ranger repeated, testing the name on his tongue. "Who is he?"
Rita let out a hollow laugh, though it was devoid of humor. "Lord Zedd is a warlord of immense power, feared across galaxies." she said, the words laced with bitterness. "He has burned entire worlds to cinders, leaving nothing but ashes in his wake."
The Green Ranger frowned. "If he's so powerful, why isn't he here?"
Rita's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, her eyes seemed distant, lost in a memory. "Lord Zedd doesn't see Earth the way I do." she said finally. "To him, it's insignificant, a mere stepping stone in his quest to dominate the entire solar system. While he turned his attention to grander conquests, he left me to claim this planet in his name."
Her gaze hardened, and the faint vulnerability the Green Ranger had glimpsed earlier vanished, replaced by a defiant fire. "He underestimated Earth. Its people, its champions, its potential. But I didn't. I saw what he couldn't, what he wouldn't. And now…" She gestured to the glowing Dragon Dagger at the Green Ranger's side. "Now, I have you."
The Green Ranger felt a flicker of unease. "If Lord Zedd's as powerful as you say." he asked carefully, "What happens when he comes back? When he sees what you've built here? Will he… Will he try to take it from you?"
Rita's expression darkened, and for a moment, the Green Ranger thought he saw a flicker of fear in her eyes again. "Lord Zedd doesn't take kindly to failure." she admitted. "But he also doesn't tolerate success he didn't orchestrate himself. If he returns and finds that I've succeeded where he thought I'd fail… There will be consequences."
The admission hung between them like a storm cloud. For the first time, the Green Ranger saw the cracks in her carefully constructed armor. Despite her immense power and cunning, there was someone out there who could make her feel small, insignificant, afraid.
Rita's gaze locked onto his, her voice sharp and commanding once more. "But I will not cower before him. Not anymore. You see, my Green Ranger, Lord Zedd believes he holds all the power, but he's blind to what's right in front of him. Together, you and I will build something stronger than he ever could. And when the day comes that he returns, we will show him what true power looks like."
The Green Ranger nodded slowly. There was no turning back now. Not for him, not for her. They were bound together by a common goal, a shared vision.
