Pink strutted down the street, her hips swaying with a confidence that mirrored the heat surging through her veins. The streetlights flickered, casting a neon glow that reflected off her hot pink nails, each one gleaming like a flashing warning. Her plaid skirt, short and rebellious, swirled with every step, brushing her legs in time with the beat of her heavy, rhythmic footfalls. Her knee-high combat boots thudded on the sidewalk, each step an assertion of her presence, each pace syncing with the wild thoughts ricocheting in her head, like bullets tearing through her mind.
Her body was alive, electric, as the plan unfolded in her head. Prism's voice was there too, a playful hum that teased and pushed her on. "So," Prism's tone was mischievous, "we've got a tiny little problem. Any morphing event is gonna trigger alarms. Protocol, baby. And you know Granny's got her eyes everywhere."
"Granny?" Pink snorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Granny, that pain-in-the-ass from Sangara? The one they brought in after Blue went and got too reckless?" She rolled her eyes, the name dripping with mockery. "She's supposed to be watching everything through the helmets now, making sure no one's doing anything 'bad,' like she can control it all. She doesn't even know what she's walking into." Pink's voice soured slightly as she thought of the Overseer, the woman who was supposed to clamp down on everything they did.
"Right," Prism agreed, her voice cutting through the growing tension in Pink's mind. "Granny is the new 'eye in the sky'—doesn't know the first thing about true chaos. They think she'll keep tabs on everyone, but all she's done is make things worse. It's like they expect her to just sit behind those screens and play god. What they don't realize is, they'll never stop the shit we're about to pull."
Pink's grin returned, sharper now. "She's a fucking joke," she muttered, voice darkening. "But, hey, let's see how long she lasts with all of this. She thinks she's in control—let's give her a reason to focus on something else for once. Maybe she'll get more than she bargained for."
"What's the plan, babe?" Pink's voice dropped, a playful challenge in her tone as she asked Prism. Her steps quickened, matching the pulsing rhythm of the conversation as anticipation built in her chest. The night air was cool against her skin, but the excitement bubbling in her stomach made it feel like the world around her was heating up.
"The simulator," Prism responded smoothly, her voice thick with satisfaction. "You know Rangers are authorized to morph at the Command Center for simulation training, right? No alarms, all legit. So here's the play—run a couple of warm-up sims, morph there, no problems. Then, I make things interesting."
Pink's lips curved into a wicked grin, the edges of her excitement sharpening with each word. Her fingers lightly tapped the morpher on her wrist, the smooth metal cool against her skin as her mind raced with possibilities. "Interesting, huh?" She tilted her head, eyes narrowing with intrigue. "And by interesting, you mean...?"
"Holo decoys," Prism chirped, her voice laced with mischief. "I'll set up a few copies of you—just like the real thing. Granny'll be too busy chasing fake Pink on her monitors to notice you slipping out. And while she's busy watching them, I'll hack into her feed so I can see it all in real-time. As long as the simulation's running and the readings are forwarded, we're rolling lucky 7's."
Pink's eyes sparked with satisfaction as Prism's plan sank in. The idea of manipulating the system, tricking Granny and her cameras—it sent a thrill through her like nothing else. She could already picture it: the holo decoys doing their job, while she slipped past unnoticed. "I love it. Lucky 7's, huh? You're really going all in on this."
Pink let out a low whistle, her lips curling into a wicked grin. "You're a genius, Prism. I knew I kept you around for a reason." Her fingers drummed the morpher again, the rhythmic tapping vibrating through her hand, her mind already picturing the chaos they were about to create.
"Oh, darling, flattery will get you everywhere," Prism purred, clearly enjoying the praise, but always quick to bring the focus back to the mission. "But let's not get distracted. Once the decoys are in place, I'll teleport you to the Ranger Operations pad in Cincarion. Now, I can't teleport you straight into Blue's cell—teleportation limits and all that jazz—but the pad will get you close enough. From there, you'll have to hoof it through the sub-basements. Security won't be an issue, though. You've got the stealth of a shadow, Pink."
Pink smirked, feeling the rush of adrenaline surge through her. The plan was coming together beautifully, and she could already taste the sweet satisfaction of it. "Not as good as Yellow," she teased, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. "But sure, I'll make it work. They won't even know I'm there. And besides..." Her eyes sparked, her confidence swelling. "I'm due for a little action."
"Please," Prism snickered, her voice dripping with amusement. "Yellow's got that whole Aquitaran school-of-fish thing going on, all calm and controlled. You, on the other hand? You've got the chaos of a cat chasing a laser pointer. No one will even see it coming."
Pink's grin stretched wider, her pulse quickening as she imagined the scene unfolding. "I'll take that. It's a damn good description. Let's see how long it takes them to catch up with me." Her fingers tapped rhythmically on her morpher, the anticipation building with every passing second.
"Of course, they'll have guards," Prism chimed in, her voice low but satisfied. "But c'mon, Pink, you've handled worse. Rangers in interrogation? They'll post a few extras, but no brass. Too many people out celebrating, drinking, and—hell—some of those guards will probably be late or calling in sick. You've got the perfect window. It's like the universe is giving us a little gift." Prism purred, her voice teasing and light, knowing how much Pink thrived in these kinds of situations. "It's gonna be easy pickings. This is more of a game than a mission."
Pink couldn't help the wicked smile that spread across her face. Her pulse quickened as she imagined slipping past sleepy, distracted security, her boots barely making a sound on the ground. "You're telling me," she grinned, "this'll be a breeze. No one will know I'm there. And once I've got Blue?" She let the sentence hang in the air, relishing the power of it.
Pink's grin faltered for just a moment, the excitement tempered by a flicker of caution. "Hold up, hold up." She paused, tapping her morpher thoughtfully as she glanced around the street, her mind shifting gears. "If I have to shoot my way out of this... let's make sure we're using non-lethal rounds in the rifle. I don't want to leave a trail of bodies. Not unless it's absolutely necessary." Her lips curled into a sly grin again. "Besides, I'm all for a little chaos, but there's no need to make it a bloodbath unless I've got no choice."
Pink's fingers drummed rhythmically on her morpher, her thoughts racing as she considered her options. "Alright, Prism, we need to talk ammo. Let's go through the list."
Pink's fingers drummed thoughtfully on the morpher as she went through her options, Prism's voice teasing her all the while.
"Ballistics first, huh?" Prism suggested, knowing Pink's response. "Good ol' reliable. One shot, one kill."
"Pfft, too clean," Pink waved it off with a smirk. "I'm not here to leave a neat little body and a note. I want them scrambling, not comfortably slumped. Ballistics are boring. We're not playing by the book today."
"Incendiary rounds, then? A little fire to light things up?" Prism pushed, but Pink was already shaking her head.
"Incendiary?" Pink laughed, the sound dark. "What am I—trying to start a forest fire? No thanks. The last thing I need is to roast the whole damn place. That's not chaos; that's just too much cleanup. Plus, you can't leave a good burn without someone wanting answers. We're not starting a bonfire, darling."
"Sonic?" Prism suggested next, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. "You could rattle their brains, make them dizzy, mess with their senses."
Pink scrunched her nose. "Sonic? No thanks. That's like sending them straight to a headache hangover. I'm not about to scramble their brains with a burst of sound. We're not doing permanent brain damage here, just some confusion and fear. Sonic's too harsh. I like my chaos a little more... subtle."
"Plasma?" Prism asked, already knowing what Pink was going to say.
"Plasma?" Pink smirked. "That's for the wannabe heroes. The big flashy guns and the sci-fi movie look. I'm not here for that. I like a little mess. You know, something that leaves them wondering where the hell it came from. Plasma rounds? Please. We're not putting on a show."
"Smart rounds, then? Follow 'em wherever they go?" Prism teased, pushing Pink further.
Pink shook her head with a laugh. "Smart rounds? I don't need a damn bullet that thinks for me. I'm the one in charge here. I want the chaos, not some lazy projectile doing the thinking." She tapped the morpher again. "No thank you. I'm good at making the decisions around here."
"Hollow points, maybe?" Prism suggested, already hearing the dismissal coming. "Leave a real mark."
Pink snickered. "Hollow points? What, do you want me to leave a mess for the janitors? I'm not trying to blast them to pieces. I'm here for the thrill, not to make a statement. I want them questioning who did this, not calling in the body bag team."
"What about acid rounds?" Prism asked with a raised brow, a little curious. "You could melt their faces off with those."
Pink winced. "Acid? Oh, hell no. What, you want me to turn them into walking puddles? I'm not a monster. It's not even the right kind of chaos. It's just... messy. Too much. There's a better way to make them sweat, trust me."
"Poison rounds then, babe? We're talking slow, agonizing burns... nice and quiet." Prism's voice took on a darker edge.
Pink immediately shook her head, eyes narrowing. "Poison rounds? What am I, trying to play the quiet assassin? Nah. Poison's for people who want a neat little death, but we're not doing neat here, sweetheart. We're doing raw chaos." She smiled wickedly. "Let's save poison for when we're feeling classy. This is about tearing down the walls, not quietly watching them fall apart."
"Alright, alright... so what's left?" Prism asked, her voice almost breathless with anticipation.
Pink's lips curled into a wide, predatory grin, the excitement buzzing through her veins. "Cymatic rounds," she said with a dark, almost sensual drawl. "The vibrations mess with their vision, make 'em see things that aren't even there. It's the perfect blend of confusion and fear. It won't kill 'em, but it'll make 'em wish it did. We'll leave them disoriented, thinking the walls are closing in on them, and they'll never know who did it." Her laughter was low and amused, the sound cold yet thrilling. "It'll be perfect."
"Please, Pink," Prism practically begged, her voice dripping with playful desperation. "Just bring enough toys to keep them entertained. Maybe toss in a plasma grenade or two... you know, just to give things a little extra heat."
Pink's laugh was dark and knowing, her grin widening as she felt the surge of adrenaline. "Oh, don't worry, babe. I'll bring enough to keep them on edge. I'm not showing up empty-handed." She tapped the morpher once again, feeling the power of it pulse in her hand. "I'll give them a show they'll never forget."
The plan was coming together perfectly—every piece falling into place. The simulator, the holo decoys, the stealth teleportation… it was all fitting together like a lethal jigsaw puzzle, and Pink could practically hear the pieces clicking into place. Her heartbeat synced with her excitement, each step she took feeling heavier with purpose. The guards wouldn't know what hit them. Blue? He'd be blindsided, just like everyone else. And that? That was the fun part.
Her mind buzzed with twisted thoughts, each one darker and more thrilling than the last. She could already see it—how it would feel, watching Blue's eyes widen when she busted him out, feeling the chaos unfold around her as the guards scrambled to catch up. This? This was the kind of play she lived for.