The blue-haired guy brought his bike to a stop at the gate of the makeshift settlement, nodding at the few rogues gathered nearby.
Few acknowledged him with grins. Sitting near a rusted barrel fire, a small group of them raised their fists in greeting.
"Hey, Blue," called out one of them, a young woman with a scar running down her cheek. "Do you have any good stories from the last raid?"
He smirked, removed the helmet, and tucked it under his arm. "Stories don't get the job done. You know that, Raine."
"Yeah, but they keep the night interesting," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Anyway, Coco's been locked up in the back. Maybe he found some good stuff."
The Guy with blue hair chuckled and waved, going through the haphazard tents and piles of scrap metal that littered the area.
He walked past others who gave a nod, and a few kids playing in the dirt even paused to watch him. They had always been in awe of him.
He paused briefly when a tall man in a patched vest waved him down.
"Blue, are you coming by later for the usual?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief.
"Maybe," Blue replied with a smile barely touching his eyes. "I have a few things to look into first."
The tall man grinned. "Don't take too long. We'll be ready."
With one last glance at the scattered settlement, Blue headed toward the center of the warehouse, where the real action was happening.
Inside, the sounds of machines and the occasional clink of tools echoed. He pushed open the heavy door, greeted by the familiar noises and scents of the underground world.
The buzzing of machines and the pungent scent of chemicals permeated the air within the warehouse.
Blue made his way past rows of tables cluttered with metal scraps, blue-colored stones, wires, and glowing screens. In the back corner, Coco stood hunched over a workbench, the soft light of a welding torch flickering over his hands as he worked with delicate nanoparticles, adjusting a containment unit.
Coco glanced upward, his eyes narrowing slightly as a slow grin spread across his face.
"Oh, Blue. You always appear when I'm engaged in something important."
Blue set the helmet on a nearby table and walked over, his eyes scanning the table full of vials, intricate devices, and different-coloured stones.
"I heard you were getting your hands on something interesting. Nano-particles, huh?" He raised an eyebrow, tapping one of the vials. "Stealing from the Rangers again?"
Coco chuckled, the sound low and amused. "Well, it's hard to resist when the Rangers aren't looking. But these are more than just petty theft. They're key to our future, Blue."
He gestured toward the particles that shimmered softly within their containment units. "You know as well as I do, these are the building blocks of our victory."
Blue crossed his arms, leaning against the table. "I know. The nanoparticles are what keep our suits operational, right? If they lose too many of them in a fight, they lose functionality."
"Exactly." Coco nodded, leaning over to adjust a setting on a nearby machine. "Our suits are designed to be self-sustaining, but Rangers rely on a steady supply of nanoparticles, unlike us. We have no source except stealing from them."
"You see, once our suits get damaged—like during a battle or an assault—they lose their functionality. Without a recharge, our suits become vulnerable. And without those suits, everyone loses their edge. So we'd better be prepared in advance," he added,
He paused for a moment, his eyes flickering toward the vials. "That's why we need to reinforce our technology. These nanoparticles don't just repair the suits—they enhance them, making them more adaptable... They will keep them functioning as long as we have enough reserves."
Blue gave a subtle, approving nod. "So we're ensuring that the next time we face them, we achieve equality... like we always dreamed of."
"Right," Coco said, "We are making the playing field even for everyone... just imagine the meta-bots fully charged and ready to go—against Edward or any of the other Rangers."
"Yeah, that sounds awesome!"
"But for that, I need more. More nanoparticles, more resources," Coco urged.
"I'll get you what you need," Blue said with a smirk. "You know I don't back down from a challenge. But don't get too eager; first, I must know your plans."
Coco smiled. "Don't worry. I'll bring you along when I start moving. For now, you handle getting us the goods."
"Alright, see you later." Blue turned to leave, but Coco's voice halted him.
"Wait a second." Coco wiped his hands on a rag. "How are your little playmates doing? Alex and Tyson, right? Edwards' pups... I heard you gave them quite a beating?"
Blue paused, a smirk tugging at his lips as he faced Coco. "We had fun; at least I did. I feel good when I'm with kids my age." His voice was playful, yet his words held an underlying darkness. "I like to pop their bubbles."
Coco's grin faded slightly, a flicker of curiosity appearing in his eyes. "You're an odd one, Blue. You always refuse to go to extremes, and I hope they do too."
"Chill, we're not enemies, right?" asked Blue.
"Nope, we just want peace," Coco hesitated. "Now go... I'm working here."
"Yeah, yeah," Blue replied before turning and heading toward the exit.
Coco leaned back, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the workbench as he watched Blue's retreating figure. "There is a blurred line between friends and enemies; it's better to learn that quickly... Blue."
---
At the Rangers Association headquarters, the atmosphere buzzed with the usual flurry of activity.
Tyson sat in front of a large screen displaying his statistics, his fingers lightly tapping the table's edge as he stared at the numbers.
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Power Points: 15
The screen flickered momentarily before stabilizing. Tyson's mind briefly wandered as he looked at the data—fifteen Power Points.
He had reached it after weeks of intense training, but even with his progress, he felt like it wasn't enough.
Tyson couldn't help but feel a hint of satisfaction at the sight of those numbers. He had worked tirelessly, pushing himself harder than ever before.
On the other hand, Alex had already reached 22 power points, where he had only gained two points. However, Tyson's growth felt natural compared to his own, and he wasn't discouraged.
Each point was hard-earned, and he knew he'd bridge the gap with time and persistence.
Tyson cracked his neck and leaned back in his chair thoughtfully.
Nancy's words had undoubtedly made an impact on him. What began as a simple crush had developed into something more profound. He admired the way she spoke and how her presence affected him. It was evident now—she had secured a spot in his heart.
"White Ranger!" Tyson exclaimed, his fingers racing over the display screen, desperately searching. The advanced AI delivered instant results, but he remained unsatisfied. He continued scrolling, diving deeper into the internet, until his eyes settled on a familiar face—her father, the former White Ranger, standing in full uniform.
"There he is, General Victor Winters."
Tyson's eyes remained fixed on the screen, captivated by the footage of the White Ranger in action. The video depicted him taking down a group of rogues single-handedly, each strike deliberate and precise. Despite the overwhelming victory, what captured Tyson's attention was the White Ranger's restraint. Instead of arresting them and fulfilling his duty, he chose to show them mercy and extended an olive branch, ultimately recruiting them into his battalion.
Tyson couldn't help but admire the quiet strength and wisdom behind that decision.
The scene caused Tyson to pause. That act of mercy and leadership made him reflect on his journey and the kind of person he wanted to become.
The screen flickered, and a new set of details emerged. Tyson's heart skipped a beat as he read the message.
The Ice World: Humanity's Nightmare.
The photo depicted a desolate, frozen landscape—an environment so hostile that no human had ever returned alive after entering. It was a place feared by every Ranger and the stuff of legends: one where many had attempted and failed, their lives claimed by the unforgiving environment and its deadly inhabitants.
The infamous reputation of Ice World stems from the authority wielded by two Powerful Bosses, each showing more ruthlessness than the other. This unique and brutal dynamic suggests that anyone dared to enter faced intense and ongoing confrontations with these dominant forces.
No ranger had ever succeeded in conquering the Ice World, which effectively stalled humanity's advancement, preventing them from progressing to the next stage.
Tyson's thoughts raced. This place—this deadly, impossible world—was where the White Ranger had met his end. The mere thought sent a chill down Tyson's spine. He had heard stories, but witnessing the harsh truth on the screen was entirely different.
"It's not just a place—it's a graveyard for those who dared to defy its rule."
Tyson jumped slightly, startled by Edward's voice behind him. He quickly turned in his chair, his eyes locking with Edward's.
The older ranger's tone was calm, nearly detached, yet there was an unmistakable edge.
"It's quite a fascinating place, isn't it?" Edward chuckled. He stepped forward, resting his hands on the back of Tyson's chair. "I was around forty-five power points when we witnessed the horrors of that place. I watched from the screen as those beasts slaughtered my friends."
Tyson's eyes widened, and his mind raced. "You... you were there?" His voice shook.
Edward's gaze darkened as old memories emerged. He folded his arms as if the weight of those moments bore down on him.
"I was in the battle room, waiting to be drafted into that hellhole," he started, his voice heavy. "We couldn't enter unless the rangers inside picked us. They could use the points they earned during the battle to call for reinforcements... but they never did."
"Why?" Tyson asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"They knew what awaited us." Edward's Recalled his memories.
"They chose death, Tyson. They decided to face those beasts, the endless slaughter— they knew calling us would have meant a death sentence. We were nothing more than... playthings to them."
Tyson swallowed hard, a wave of unease tightening his chest. "Are they really that powerful?"
Edward nodded solemnly. "That particular dungeon? Yeah. Rangers with over eighty power points get ripped apart in those fields. The moment you step in, you're done for. Even your team in the battle room can't save you. They have no choice but to leave you behind. It's a one-way ticket, Tyson. Only the unfortunate make it inside."
Tyson hesitated, the weight of Edward's words pressing down on him. "Who... who would ever choose to go in there?"
"Only those with hearts larger than the others... like your parents."
The words struck Tyson hard. He gazed at Edward, shocked, as the silence grew heavier between them.
"I had parents?" he questioned more sarcastically. "If I had parents, then why was I in the orphanage? Why did they leave me behind? Why did they throw me away?"
Edward released a deep breath, his expression marked by regret. "They didn't leave you behind, Tyson. They were rangers. They wanted you to experience a normal life, away from all this. They understood what was coming and made the toughest decision of their lives to shield you. But fate intervened. The meta-bot selected you, and I… I had to involve you in this battle."
Tyson released a sardonic laugh, his voice shaking with feeling.
"Right. I should be thankful, shouldn't I? For being selected? For growing up without them because they were too occupied saving others to consider me?"
Edward flinched but stood firm. "They did think about you. They were there, Tyson. They came to your birthday parties every year. They watched from a distance, until—"
"Until what?" Tyson interrupted, his voice growing louder. "Until they disappeared? And you—what about you, Master? You took me in only out of guilt, didn't you?"
Edward's expression hardened. "No, Tyson. I welcomed you in because I wanted to. The instant I saw the meta-bot select you, I realized it was the right moment. However..." He softened his tone. "I've never excelled at being a father. I understand that now."
Tyson gazed at him, his feelings a tempest—anger, sorrow, confusion—each vying for control. "No, you haven't," he whispered.
Tyson fixed his gaze on Edward, his heavy emotions swirling like a tornado. He tightened his fists, his jaw clenched as if restraining the words.
"I can't handle this now," Tyson whispered, his voice faint yet taut. He spun around suddenly, making his way to the door.
"Tyson—" Edward said, taking a step forward, but the younger man halted him with a fierce glance back.
"Don't," Tyson said, his tone icy and detached. "You've said enough to me."
Edward observed Tyson walking away. Just then, the door behind him clicked shut, leaving Edward alone.
The silence was too loud for him. He ran a hand down his face as if the weight of their shared history had doubled. He sank into a nearby chair, the guilt and regret etched deeply into his facial features.