The hum of the neural port thrummed deep in Pink's skull, sending a shiver through her body as the sync took hold. She pressed closer to Blue's unresponsive form, her breath catching as their connection began. His chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, his body still, but through the link, he felt alive—every faint twitch of his muscles, every subtle pulse of his nerves resonated through her. The warmth of him seeped into her skin, amplified by the sync until it felt like they were already merging.
Prism's voice cut through the haze of sensation, sharp and teasing. "Ten seconds, Pink," she said, her tone low and deliberate. "That's all the time you've got to sync fully. Better make every second count."
Pink gasped softly, her hands trembling as they pressed against Blue's chest. Her breath quickened as the connection deepened, her body heating under the surge of sensations. Every beat of his heart, every faint movement echoed through her, magnified by the neural link. It wasn't just his body she felt—it was him. The essence of him, steady and grounding, wrapped around her like a lifeline.
"Nine," Prism counted, her voice rich with amusement. "You're already falling apart, aren't you? I can feel it, Pink. You're so close, and you don't even realize it yet."
Pink moaned softly, her thighs tightening around his hips as the heat in her belly coiled tighter. "It's—" Her voice broke, trembling as her body arched instinctively. "It's so much."
"Eight," Prism purred, her voice both coaxing and commanding. "You're not going to stop, are you? You've never felt anything like this before. Why would you stop now?"
Pink let out a shaky breath, her fingers curling against his chest as she pressed her forehead to his. Her body responded instinctively, every nerve alight with sensation. The sync blurred the lines between them, her movements mirrored faintly in his unconscious responses. It wasn't just physical—it was complete. She felt his trust radiating through the link, quiet and unshakable. It wasn't consent, but it was enough to push her forward.
"Seven," Prism said smoothly, her tone growing softer. "That's all the time you've got left. Do you really want to hold back now?"
Pink's breath hitched, her hips pressing against his as the sensations built. The neural link amplified everything, binding them together in a way she had never experienced. She could feel her body tightening, the heat building low in her belly as her nerves sparked with every pulse of connection.
"Six," Prism said, her voice dripping with encouragement. "You're almost there, Pink. Just let go. Let yourself feel it—all of it."
Pink shuddered, her breath coming faster as the intensity grew. The trust she felt through the link wrapped around her like a safety net, feeding the fire inside her. "Prism," she murmured, her voice trembling, "I've never felt this with anyone. Not like this. It's… perfect."
"That's because it is perfect," Prism replied, her tone rich with satisfaction. "Five seconds, Pink. That's all you've got. Don't waste it. Don't hold back."
Pink moaned again, her body trembling as the sensations surged higher. Her hands flexed against Blue's chest, her thighs tightening around him as the connection drove her closer to the edge. Every past connection, every fleeting touch from another lover felt hollow compared to this. This wasn't just about her body—it was about him, about the way their minds and souls intertwined through the sync.
"Four," Prism whispered, her voice soft and insistent. "Feel it, Pink. His nerves, his pulse, his trust—it's all for you. Don't stop now. You're so close."
Pink arched against him, her body heating as her movements grew more deliberate. The countdown echoed in her mind, and with each passing second, the tension in her core tightened. The sync pulled her deeper, amplifying every shared sensation until she couldn't tell where her body ended and his began.
"Three," Prism said, her voice almost a purr. "He's yours, Pink. Completely. Just let yourself take what you need."
Pink gasped, her breath coming in sharp bursts as the fire in her belly blazed higher. She was shaking now, her body trembling with the sheer intensity of it all. "Prism," she moaned, her voice breaking, "I can't—"
"Yes, you can," Prism interrupted, her tone firm. "Two seconds, Pink. Just let go. Take everything. Let him feel you."
Pink's body tensed, the sensations reaching a crescendo as she finally surrendered. Her climax surged through her like a tidal wave, raw and consuming, leaving her gasping as she clung to Blue. The neural link magnified every ripple of pleasure, binding them together in a way that left her breathless. It wasn't just physical—it was everything. It was him.
"One," Prism said softly, her voice tinged with satisfaction. "And there you are. Fully synced. Fully his. Didn't that feel incredible?"
Pink slumped forward, her forehead resting against Blue's chest as she tried to catch her breath. Her skin was damp, her body trembling as the aftershocks rippled through her. The hum of the link softened, fading into the background, but the trust she had felt through it lingered like a quiet echo.
For a moment, she let herself bask in the warmth of the connection, even as a faint flicker of guilt began to surface. "Prism," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Was this… was this okay?"
Prism's reply came without hesitation, her tone soothing yet mischievous. "More than okay, Pink. This is exactly where you're meant to be."
Pink didn't respond, her mind still swirling with the aftermath of the experience. For now, she let herself hold onto that truth, even as the weight of what she had done lingered at the edges of her thoughts.
As the sensations ebbed, the sterile hum of the medical wing and the soft beeping of monitors faded into nothingness. The weight of her body pressed against Blue's, the heat of his skin, and the tension in his unconscious form slipped away as the sync took hold. The neural link thrummed in her mind, pulling her deeper, until the physical world disappeared entirely.
When her vision cleared, she found herself standing in a shadowy expanse. The air was heavy and damp, tinged with the faint metallic tang of rust. Beneath her boots, the uneven ground glistened with moisture, and each tentative step sent faint echoes rippling through the space. Above her, a fractured grid of metal bars stretched across the ceiling, casting jagged shadows onto the crumbling brick walls. Pale light filtered through the gaps, weak and sporadic, but enough to illuminate the oppressive room.
The faint sound of dripping water punctuated the stillness, broken only by echoes from far off: distant screams, gunfire, and the dull rumble of explosions. The chaos was faint, muffled, but it sent a chill down her spine, its haunting presence hovering on the edge of her awareness.
Pink glanced down at herself, and her breath caught. She wasn't bare anymore. Instead, she wore her usual style of clothing—a black tube top that hugged her torso snugly, a plaid miniskirt that swayed as she moved, and knee-high boots that were scuffed from years of use. A studded belt sat low on her hips, its silver detailing catching the dim light. Her bracelet of lucky sevens dangled lightly from her wrist, its faint jingling grounding her in the moment. Around her neck, her favorite choker rested snugly, its heart-shaped charm gleaming faintly.
She touched her arm, brushing over the fabric of her top, and frowned. The change was jarring, but not unpleasant—it felt natural. Familiar. Hers. "I'm... clothed?" she murmured, her voice trembling slightly.
"You're how you see yourself," Blue's voice broke through the quiet, calm and even. She spun toward it, her boots splashing faintly against the damp ground. He sat slouched against the far wall, his posture relaxed, though his presence felt heavier here, weighted by the space around him. "In the link," he continued, "your mind doesn't show reality. It shows how you want to be seen. How you see yourself."
Pink stared at him for a moment, her fingers absently toying with the charm of her choker as she processed his words. "So… this is me?" she asked softly, her gaze dropping back to her clothes.
Blue nodded, his eyes reflecting the dim light like silver shards. "This is you," he said simply. "Not the 'you' in the real world, but the one in your mind."
Her brow furrowed as she smoothed her hands over the fabric of her skirt, grounding herself in its texture. "I didn't think about it," she murmured. "It just happened."
"That's how it works," Blue replied, his voice steady but tinged with something deeper. "Your mind handles it for you. You don't think about it, you just... are."
Pink let out a soft, humorless laugh, her fingers brushing against the belt around her waist. "Guess that means I'm as much of a mess as I look," she said, her voice dipping into an attempt at humor that couldn't quite mask her unease.
Blue's lips twitched into a faint smile. "It's not about being a mess," he said. "It's about being honest."
Her chest tightened at his words, but she didn't respond. Instead, she turned her attention to their surroundings—the jagged shadows, the damp air, the oppressive weight of the space. "What is this place?" she asked after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper.
Blue leaned his head back against the wall, his gaze drifting to the bars above. "A corner of my mind," he said. "It's not much to look at, is it?"
Pink stepped closer, the sound of her boots splashing faintly as she moved. "It's where you are," she said firmly. "That's all that matters."
Blue tilted his head slightly, his eyes meeting hers. "You always were stubborn," he said, his voice softening. "That hasn't changed."
Pink dropped to her knees in front of him, the damp ground seeping through the fabric of her skirt as she knelt. "Neither has my ability to find you," she said, her voice steady. "The Vault didn't stop me, and neither will this. Wherever you feel isolated, I'll find you. If this is where you are, then I'm here too. Always."
Blue studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Slowly, he nodded. "I never doubted that," he said quietly. "Not for a second."
Pink smiled faintly, her hands brushing against his arm. The faint contact sent a ripple of sensation through the link, grounding her in the shared awareness between them. The oppressive space around them—the crumbling walls, the fractured bars, the echoes of distant chaos—remained unchanged. But in that moment, Pink felt something shift. It wasn't tangible, but it was there: a quiet promise, unspoken but understood. Whatever it took, she wouldn't leave him behind.
Blue shifted slightly, his gaze steady as it settled on Pink, though his focus seemed to drift beyond her. His head tilted, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I can feel her," he said, his voice calm but curious.
Pink frowned, momentarily confused before the faint hum of Prism's presence buzzed louder in her mind, threading through the link. "She's loud, isn't she?" Pink muttered, already bracing herself.
"Loud?" Prism's voice rang out indignantly as her holographic form materialized beside them. "Excuse me, loud is what people say when they don't appreciate a vibrant personality."
Blue's lips quirked into a faint smile, his expression thoughtful as he studied her. "You're... different," he said finally. "Not like Nova."
Prism grinned, placing her hands on her hips as she turned toward him. "Damn right, I'm not like Nova. She's all numbers and logic and 'tactical efficiency.' I'm fun. You ever tried having fun, Blue?"
Pink groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Prism, don't start."
"What?" Prism asked, spreading her hands innocently. "I'm just saying, you're both way too serious. Honestly, this link could use a little chaos, and guess what? That's what I bring to the table."
Blue raised an eyebrow, though the faint amusement in his eyes didn't fade. "Nova wouldn't agree."
Prism rolled her eyes dramatically, tossing an imaginary strand of hair over her shoulder. "Of course she wouldn't. She's Nova. Her idea of excitement is recalibrating a tactical profile. Me? I like to live a little."
Pink felt her face flush, a wave of embarrassment mingling with irritation as Prism's energy overwhelmed the link. "You're not helping," she muttered, though her voice lacked any real heat.
Prism ignored her, turning her full attention to Blue. "Look, Blue, I get it. Nova's great. She's smart, efficient, all that tactical mumbo jumbo. But let's be honest, she's not exactly fun at parties, is she?"
Blue let out a low chuckle, the sound surprising in its warmth. "She keeps me alive."
"So do I," Prism said brightly, grinning. "And I look better doing it."
Pink felt the faint ripple of Blue's thoughts through the link, steady and calm but tinged with curiosity. He wasn't dismissive of Prism, but she could sense his quiet adjustment to her energy—a stark contrast to the precision and logic he was used to with Nova. "You're... louder than Nova," he admitted after a moment. "And less structured."
"That's because I'm not a walking algorithm," Prism shot back, smirking. "I've got flair."
Pink groaned again, glancing at Blue. "She's always like this," she said, exasperation leaking into her tone. "I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize," Blue replied simply, his voice steady. "It's been a long time since I've felt another Ranger in my mind."
The quiet sincerity of his words settled over them, and even Prism seemed to pause, her holographic form flickering faintly. Pink could feel the shift in his emotions—relief, calm, and a subtle sense of healing. It wasn't just that he tolerated their presence in his mind; he welcomed it.
Prism broke the silence, her voice softer but still playful. "So, what you're saying is... you missed us?"
Blue tilted his head, his lips twitching into a faint smile. "Something like that."
"Aw, see? You do like me," Prism teased, though there was a warmth in her tone now. "I'm officially your new favorite AI."
"Don't push it," Blue replied, though the quiet amusement in his voice betrayed him.
Pink watched them, her chest tightening as she felt the weight of his thoughts ripple through the link. For him, Prism's presence was chaotic but strangely soothing, like a wildfire burning away old shadows. And while the energy was overwhelming for her, she couldn't deny the comfort that bled through the connection—the quiet relief of knowing Blue didn't mind, that he wasn't pushing them away.
"You're adjusting to her faster than I expected," Pink said finally, her voice softer now.
Blue glanced at her, his expression calm. "She's not Nova," he said simply, "but that's not a bad thing."
"Damn right it's not," Prism chimed in, grinning. "Honestly, Blue, you need someone like me in your life. Nova's great for tactics, but I'm great for morale. Big difference."
Pink rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "You're ridiculous."
"And you love me for it," Prism said with a wink, turning back to Blue. "Face it, you're both stuck with me now. But hey, it's not all bad. I make this link interesting."
Blue let out another low chuckle, the sound soft and almost foreign after so many years of silence. "I'll give you that."
Prism beamed like she'd just won a competition, clasping her hands together. "See? Progress. Next thing you know, he'll be naming a tactical maneuver after me. Prism Protocol. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
Pink groaned, shaking her head as she muttered, "I've created a monster."
The three of them fell into a quiet rhythm after that, the oppressive space of Blue's mind softening under the shared connection. For Blue, the presence of Pink and Prism wasn't just tolerable—it was therapeutic, a balm against years of solitude. And while Pink's emotions remained tangled and uncertain, she couldn't deny the subtle shift in him—the way his quiet calm wrapped around them like a shield, steady and unshakable.
The stillness of the link stretched between them, punctuated only by the faint hum of its energy and the distant echoes of the space around them. Pink shifted, her boots scraping softly against the damp floor as she met Blue's gaze.
"Go ahead," he said, his voice quiet but steady. "You should try it."
Pink frowned, uncertain. "Try what?"
Blue tilted his head slightly, the faintest flicker of amusement crossing his expression. "The link," he clarified. "You're already halfway in. Might as well take it for a test drive."
Pink hesitated, her fingers brushing against the edge of her choker as she searched his face. Through the link, she could feel his calm resolve, the openness in his thoughts that left no room for hesitation. He wasn't hiding anything—or rather, he didn't feel the need to. But beneath that calm was something more, a faint undercurrent of vulnerability she hadn't expected.
"I mean it," Blue said, his voice softer now. "Explore. Look through my memories. It's easier than me trying to explain everything. Just... stay away from Countdown." His eyes didn't waver, but the shift in his emotions was unmistakable. "Anything before or during. You don't want to go there."
Pink swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing against her chest. Through the link, she could feel the raw edge of those memories, the tightly wound pain he'd spent years compartmentalizing. "I'll stay away," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Prism, lingering nearby, seemed ready to interject, her grin half-formed as she opened her mouth to speak. But before she could, Blue turned his head toward her, his expression unreadable.
"Prism," he said evenly, "quiet down."
Prism blinked, surprised, but quickly shrugged. "Sure thing, boss," she said lightly, flicking her holographic hair over her shoulder. "I'll give you two some alone time. Just holler if you need comic relief."
Her form shimmered, fading from view, leaving Pink and Blue alone in the quiet expanse of his mind. Pink let out a slow breath, the tension in her chest loosening slightly as the link's hum grew more prominent in her awareness.
"You don't have to rush," Blue said, his voice steady, almost grounding. "Just... let it guide you. The link knows what you need to see."
Pink closed her eyes, the faint buzz of the connection growing stronger as she let herself sink into it. At first, it was like stepping into a rushing current—chaotic and overwhelming, fragments of Blue's thoughts and emotions swirling around her. But as she focused, the pieces began to settle, aligning themselves like puzzle pieces falling into place.
The first memory hit her like a wave.
She was back at the festival, the night she was chosen by the Pink Morpher. The sights and sounds were overwhelming—the chatter of the crowd, the smell of fried sweets wafting through the air, the glow of lanterns hanging from poles. But it wasn't her perspective. This wasn't how she remembered it.
This was Blue's.
She felt his sharp gaze sweeping over the festival grounds, his instinct to analyze and protect already fully formed even at that age. And then there was her. Pink saw herself through his eyes—laughing, carefree, her hand brushing against his as she pointed at a stall selling sugary pastries. She looked vibrant, alive, as if she belonged to the light that surrounded her.
When the Morpher chose her, the burst of pink light illuminating her face, Blue's awe had been instant and undeniable. "It's her," the thought echoed faintly in her mind, raw and unfiltered. "Of course it's her."
Pink gasped softly as the memory dissolved, replaced by another. The link tugged her deeper, pulling her into a different scene.
This time, it was CoralVault. The air was thick with humidity and salt, the faint hum of the megacity's systems vibrating through her. She could feel Blue's steady calm as he moved through the city, his thoughts quietly cataloging its sights and sounds. He didn't care much for CoralVault itself—it was just another place to him, neutral and functional. But there was something else, something that tethered him to it.
Pink felt the quiet ripple of his thoughts, tinged with familiarity and fondness. "She hates it here," he thought, his voice soft but steady. "But it's hers. She makes it matter."
Her chest tightened at the thought, the raw simplicity of it settling over her like a weight. CoralVault wasn't home for her. It wasn't a place she loved. But through Blue's eyes, it was clear why it still mattered—because she mattered.
The memory shifted again, fragments blurring together as the link carried her further. Sangara. The arcade. The dance. Each moment was vivid, sharp in its detail, but it wasn't the sights or sounds that struck her. It was the emotions—the quiet admiration, the steady presence of Blue's thoughts as he watched her navigate their shared world.
At the dance, she was in turquoise. Not pink, not the vibrant colors she usually wore, but a soft, shimmering turquoise that caught the light with every step. Through his eyes, she felt the sharp hitch of his breath, the quiet thought that slipped unbidden into his mind. "She's beautiful."
Pink's breath trembled as the memory dissolved, her mind pulling back into the present. The damp expanse of the link returned, the hum of its energy settling around her like a gentle current. She opened her eyes, her gaze meeting Blue's as she tried to steady herself.
"You didn't hide anything," she said softly, her voice trembling. "You didn't even try."
Blue shook his head, his expression calm. "I didn't need to," he said simply. "You were always there, Pink. Even when you didn't know it."
Her chest tightened at his words, and for a moment, she couldn't speak. The weight of the memories, the raw vulnerability of the link, was almost too much. But as the quiet stretched between them, she found herself leaning into it, letting his calmness anchor her.
"I don't know what to say," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
"You don't have to say anything," Blue replied, his voice steady. "You've always understood, even without the link."