Working with King Dax wasn't quite what Black had expected. Whenever it was just him, Bastion, and Dax, the formalities of royalty faded away. "Just call me Dax," he'd say casually, his tone relaxed, much more human than Black expected from a king who resembled an insect. From a distance, Dax looked fully human, but up close, there were subtleties in the texture of his skin—tiny details that betrayed his Mirinoian heritage. His eyes, in particular, had an insect-like quality when stared into for too long, but it wasn't something you'd notice unless you knew to look for it. And of course, there was the gem—a shimmering silver stone embedded in his forehead, marking him as royalty, though he often concealed it with ease when he didn't want the attention.
Dax had shared parts of his history during their quiet moments, giving Black a deeper glimpse into who he really was. As a young prince, Dax had fought a brutal war against his uncle, Dregon, who had sought to usurp the throne of Mirinoi. Dax's fight hadn't just been for his people, but for the future of his planet. He had come to Earth eventually, following Dregon's forces, though he hadn't worked directly with the Rangers at the time. His mission had been to stop Dregon from attacking Earth while ensuring his own people's survival.
It wasn't until after he arrived on Earth that he found his adoptive family, the Stewarts—Hal, Barbara, Molly, and Albee. "They didn't care that I was from another planet," Dax had told Black once, a faint smile on his face. "To them, I was just a kid, part of the family." That sentiment, that grounding in normalcy, had given Dax a duality that Black couldn't help but respect. Dax was royalty, yes, but he was also just Dax, a man with a family and responsibilities that stretched across worlds.
Despite his ties to Earth and his adoptive family, Dax's true legacy lay in the powers given to him by his grandfather, King Lexian, the former ruler of Mirinoi. Lexian had crafted the Masked Rider powers and gifted Dax the Ecto-Accelerator Belt, which allowed him to transform into the Masked Rider. With it came an array of abilities, from the Rider Kick and Warrior Punch, which charged his limbs with energy for concussive hits, to his powerful weapons like the Electro Saber and, in his enhanced forms, the Blue Saber and Ecto Ray.
But even with all this background, the situation at Ceres had proven complicated. The two Mirinoi ships—Doomsting and Duskmourn—weren't cooperating, or at least, that's what Dax had said. Black, who was more used to the technical workings of the Power Rangers' ships, couldn't quite understand what Dax meant when he said they weren't "communicating properly."
For two days, Black, Bastion, and Dax had worked tirelessly to extract the critical data from the ships. The Mirinoi vessels were alive in ways that still threw Black for a loop. The ships had a will of their own—sentient in ways that made interfacing with them a lot harder than traditional machines. Bastion, as always, handled the technical aspects with ease, but even his AI brilliance couldn't fully bridge the gap between the Rangers' tech and the living ships of Mirinoi.
It wasn't until Black reached his limit that things shifted. After another failed attempt to retrieve data, Black did what he always did when things went wrong—he punched the console. It was a move born out of frustration, but, to his surprise, it worked. The screen flickered to life, and streams of data began pouring in. "Guess it just needed a little persuasion," Black muttered, grinning at the irony. Percussive maintenance, as Blue would have called it. Tech support, as Black saw it.
The data was transmitted back to Alpha at the Command Center, but something still didn't sit right with Black. After spending days with Dax and seeing the way the King handled problems, Black felt a growing desire to prove something—to challenge the warrior side of Dax he had heard so much about. And that's when the idea struck him.
Before he could think it through, Black turned to Dax. "Dax, I challenge you to a duel."
Dax, to his credit, barely reacted. He raised an eyebrow, looked Black up and down, and then shrugged. "Sure," he said, as if it were the most casual thing in the world.
Black hadn't quite expected that reaction. But what he really didn't expect was where the duel would take place.
The next thing he knew, Black found himself standing in the Mirinoi equivalent of a Circus Maximus, a massive coliseum filled with a buzzing crowd, their excitement palpable. The arena itself was unlike anything he had seen before—an organic, living structure, much like the ships, pulsing with energy from the ground up. The stands were packed with Mirinoi citizens, all eager to see their king face off in combat.
This was no sparring match—this was a spectacle.
Black glanced across the arena to where Dax was preparing. The King was calm, his demeanor unchanged, but now there was a certain edge to him. Dax wasn't just a king—he was a warrior, a lone fighter. His experience came not from fighting alongside a team, but from years of battling alone. And now, in this massive arena, it was clear that Dax wasn't just going to treat this as a casual fight. He was the Masked Rider, a legend among his people.
"How do I fight someone who's used to handling everything on his own?" Black muttered, feeling the familiar presence of Bastion in his mind.
Bastion's response was quick, as always. "Dax fights alone. That's his strength. But don't forget—you've trained with a team. You know how to adapt, how to use the environment. He's one man. You're more than that."
Black shook his head, glancing at Dax, who was already strapping on his Ecto-Accelerator Belt. "Yeah, but he's got more solo experience than anyone I've ever faced."
"You've faced worse odds," Bastion replied. "Remember, you're a Ranger. You've trained to handle things with strategy and adaptability. Dax might underestimate that."