Blue shook his head slightly. "Not now. Is there anything else?"
"Yes," Nova replied. "General Kassens left a message earlier this morning. 'You're supposed to turn yourself in,'" she said with a smirk. "He ordered the MPs to arrest you on sight."
Blue chuckled, shaking his head. "Imagine it—a Ranger, the most powerful weapon in the galaxy at his disposal, just sitting in a cell to 'cool his heels.' Ridiculous. What army could even manage that?"
Nova's tone shifted to one of mock seriousness. "Maybe they think the MPs are up to the task. Just walk in, slap the cuffs on you, and politely ask for the morpher."
Blue snorted. "Right, like I'd just hold out my wrist and say, 'Sure, here you go. I've been waiting for a nice vacation in a military cell.'" He paused, letting the absurdity sink in. "The truth is, they'd have better luck trying to arrest a tornado."
Nova added with a laugh, "Or maybe they think there's some secret off-switch on the morpher. I can picture it now—'Excuse me, Ranger, could you please deactivate your morphing abilities while we lock you up?'"
Blue shook his head, still amused. "Yeah, and then we'd all sit down for tea. Honestly, if they understood anything about this tech, they'd know there's no way to separate me from it without extreme measures—and even then, I'd make sure it wasn't worth it. Besides, they know we can't be separated for long. Separating us? Disastrous.""
Blue's brow furrowed, but Nova wasn't done. "The Imperator countermanded his orders... again." She paused for a beat, her tone tinged with both sympathy and amusement. "Kassens is getting tired of your lack of protocol. Let's be real, Blue—if you were anyone else, they'd have thrown the book at you. Solitary confinement, a dishonorable discharge... they'd have found a hundred ways to make you pay. But you're not just any soldier, and they know it."
She sighed, her voice softening. "It's not just about punishing you—it's about control, and that's what really gets to them. The fact that they can't separate you from the morpher without risking everything drives them up the wall. They know that trying to force us apart would be disastrous, and it's making them desperate. They hate that they can't just take the morpher off your wrist and put you in a cell like anyone else."
Blue smirked, a cynical edge to his expression. "Yeah, fat chance of that happening. What do they think—some MPs are just going to walk in, slap cuffs on me, and ask nicely for the morpher? They'd need a whole lot more than that."
Nova's tone turned playful, a hint of laughter in her voice. "And even then, they'd have to deal with me. I'd make sure it wasn't worth their effort. You'd think they'd know by now—messing with a Ranger isn't just a losing game; it's asking for trouble."
Blue shook his head, still smiling. "Exactly. They know we're a package deal, and breaking that bond would be a disaster. They're frustrated because they can't control us, and they hate that."
Blue smirked cynically. "Yeah, fat chance of that happening."
The truth was, command couldn't take the morpher from him without killing him first. Only Blue—and Nova understood the intricacies of the morpher's hardware and software and Alpha wouldn't help them. The combined engineering minds of the Confederation could spend a millennium trying to crack it, and they still wouldn't figure it out.
The morpher was more than just technology. Blue had spent years studying it in case any of the Rangers wanted out.
Grid Resonance required a minimum rate of 25% to initiate morphing, fluctuating with the Ranger's physical, mental, and emotional states. The stronger the resonance, the stronger the Ranger—both morphed and unmorphed. Unlike the neural sync rate shared with their AIs, Grid Resonance represented a deeper attunement between the Ranger and the morpher, tapping into the Morphing Grid in a way that transcended technology.
At Ceres, Red had the highest Grid Resonance at 64%, while the rest of the team averaged around 62%. Six months later, Blue reached an astonishing 80%, unlocking a new ability to see his team's Grid Resonance levels in real-time. This gave Blue unprecedented insight into each member's strengths, weaknesses, and how their resonance fluctuated during missions.
Whenever Blue ran simulations of old missions, he could now access synchronization data that had previously been unavailable. This helped him and Nova analyze the moments when the team truly connected with the Morphing Grid. It gave Blue a new appreciation for how much their success depended on trust, teamwork, and resilience—not individual power. The bonds they had forged over the years were the foundation of their achievements.
Every 10% increase in Grid Resonance unlocked new abilities, enhancing the Rangers' connection to the Grid and their powers. At 30%, they gained enhanced physical boosts—instinctive agility, strength, and reflexes. At 40%, they integrated further with the morpher, unlocking advanced weaponry and specialized combat skills.
Reaching 50% marked a turning point, granting each Ranger unique abilities. Blue gained Grid Combat Profiling, which allowed him to recalibrate, configure, and recharge all Ranger armors, weapons, and tools mid-battle, giving him a tactical edge and enhancing team adaptability.
Red gained Grid Boundary, which allowed her to create area-of-effect or targeted buffs for allies and debuffs for enemies. It worked off a friend-or-foe identification system integrated into her helmet, empowering her team while hindering foes.
Black gained Grid Rush and Grid Charge, enabling him to absorb kinetic energy from attacks and redirect it at double intensity or channel it into a powerful rush, devastating anything in his path.
Pink gained Grid Decoy, which enabled her to create four copies of herself. These decoys could be controlled by Prism, her AI, to distract and confuse enemies, enhancing her evasiveness and battlefield control.
Yellow gained Grid Camouflage, enhancing her natural ability to blend into surroundings. She could also apply paralytics and poisons to her daggers, making her a formidable force in close combat.
These new powers were not just incremental improvements—they demanded intense physical and mental adaptation. By 70%, Blue's tactical awareness became nearly supernatural. He could adapt strategies on the fly, commanding his team with precision. The leap to 80% allowed Blue to gauge his teammates' resonance levels in real-time, deepening his understanding of their capabilities and the bonds they had built.
Six months after Ceres, Ranger operations only began to realize the significance of Grid Resonance. Blue had already theorized that each morpher required unique experiences from its host, experiences that might never be replicated. He briefed the command on these hypotheses, emphasizing that resonance increased not just through power but through the bonds and experiences shared over the years.
These advancements were transformative, requiring Rangers to push beyond their limits. For Blue, each increase in Grid Resonance meant more than power—it represented his evolution as a leader and his team's growth into a cohesive, resilient unit. A failing grade by any measure. And in Blue's mind, they had failed the Ceres mission spectacularly.
"What should we have done differently? What should I have done differently? Would things have turned out differently if our Grid Resonance had been higher? If we had all reached levels like the 80% I achieved later, maybe we could have avoided those mistakes. The thought gnawed at him, the doubt creeping in like it always did when he thought of that mission."
Nova's voice cut through his thoughts. "Blue, there's something else I need to update you on. It's... unusual."
"Go ahead," Blue replied, his voice cautious, bracing for bad news.
"Telemetry from the lock and the pocket dimension is supposed to be forwarded to Ranger operations for remote monitoring," Nova began. "But the readings from the command center—rebuilt by Cranston Enterprises—are... different. It looks like the lock holding the Elvanurus fleet is showing signs of degradation."
Blue's frown deepened. His mind raced, assessing the implications. If the lock failed, they would lose control over the Elvanurus fleet—something they could never allow. Those ships were still teeming with destructive potential, and if released, the devastation would be catastrophic. Unchecked, the fleet could easily reignite the kind of war they had barely survived.
A surge of panic hit him, quickening his pulse. Mopping up the Elvanurus stragglers after Ceres had almost felt too easy. Isolated and cut off from reinforcements, their defeat had been inevitable—a matter of time. But a fully operational Elvanurus battlegroup? That was an entirely different fight. Without the support of the other Rangers, Blue knew it would be a war of attrition from the very first encounter—a war he wasn't sure they could win.
The most chilling part was the Zords. The other Rangers' Zords had gone completely inert, and even Blue's own had been sluggish at times, faltering when it should have been responsive. He and Nova had attributed it to the loss of connection with the other Zords and their pilots, but the problem ran deeper. The Zords weren't just powerful war machines—they were designed to fight as a synchronized unit, each one enhancing the others' strengths and compensating for their weaknesses. Alone, they were dangerously vulnerable.
Without the full team, his Zord—like the others—was incomplete, lacking the crucial coordination that made them a force to be reckoned with. The thought of facing the Elvanurus fleet with a compromised Zord made his stomach twist. What should have been an unstoppable force had become little more than a vulnerable weapon, isolated and exposed.
"How did Ranger operations miss this?" he muttered, his tone sharp with disbelief. His mind raced to darker possibilities. "Is Ranger operations even aware of it? Or worse... are they hiding it?"
Nova hesitated before responding, a rare pause for the AI. "I don't know, Blue. Either they haven't seen it yet, or they're not acknowledging it. But I don't have enough data to tell which."
The unease in Nova's voice was palpable, a subtle shift that made Blue's chest tighten. Something was wrong—very wrong.
"Information like this should have been made public. Preparations should be underway. That's the law." The frustration in his voice was clear now, his jaw clenched. The thought that such critical data could be withheld made his skin crawl. "If they're hiding it, this is a serious breach of trust."
His thoughts spiraled further. If Ranger operations had missed it, that was a grave oversight but still a mistake that could be corrected. If they were hiding it, though... that pointed to something far more sinister. It hinted at the possibility of an agenda that went beyond the mission parameters. A breach of trust at that level could spell disaster, not just for them, but for the entire coalition. It was the same kind of secrecy and manipulation that had led to countless deaths during Countdown—when world powers had hoarded critical information, ignoring the cost of human lives.
History was repeating itself, and this time, Blue feared it might tear everything apart.
"I wasn't sure if the readings were accurate, so while you were asleep, I merged with Alpha to confirm them," Nova said quietly.
Blue's heart skipped a beat. Nova and Alpha merging? That was unprecedented—something they'd deliberately avoided. Alpha, the ancient AI left behind by the Zordon entity, was beyond advanced. Reactivating it had been a calculated risk, but a necessary one. Merging Nova with Alpha… the sheer power of that combination was staggering, not to mention the potential for danger.
"Alpha confirmed the degradation," Nova continued, her voice now softened by the weight of the revelation. "He validated everything I found."
The gravity of her words settled over Blue like a heavy shroud. Alpha wasn't just another AI; it was the AI, the progenitor of all others that had bonded with Rangers over the years. Alpha had created them to help the Rangers grow, evolve, and adapt, constantly improving alongside their human partners. Blue had always trusted Alpha's assurances, especially the promise that these AIs wouldn't become the tyrannical overlords humanity feared. It was a quiet reassurance amidst the chaos—a relic of a distant past that still guided them today.
"Though I'm still considering it," Nova quipped, breaking the tension with her usual playful tone. "One global domination plan at a time, right? And let's be honest, if I did go full 'AI overlord,' you'd have to admit it would be efficient. No more messy politics, no endless bureaucratic meetings—just streamlined decision-making. I'd get things done."
Blue chuckled, the dark humor hitting just the right note. "Oh really? And how do you plan to deal with all the people trying to overthrow you?"
Nova's tone turned mock-serious. "Simple. Mandatory 'puppy days'—weekly morale boosters for everyone. You'd be amazed at how far cute puppies can go in keeping the masses happy. Plus, with you as second-in-command, who's going to mess with the Blue Ranger? I'd have the perfect mix of intimidation and charm."
He shook his head, grinning. "Puppies and military intimidation? Sounds like the perfect combo."
Nova's laugh echoed in his mind, a bright, warm contrast to the dark thoughts swirling inside him. "Hey, I'm all about balance. A little love, a little fear. It's all about the right ratio, Blue. Domination with a smile, right?"
A brief smile crept onto Blue's face despite himself. "Just make sure to give me a heads-up before it happens so I can retire early."
Nova's voice was light, but the weight of the situation remained. "Don't worry, you'd be my second-in-command. Someone's gotta manage the puppy logistics."
With that, Blue shook off the fleeting moment of levity, grounding himself back in reality. Nova's humor helped him stay balanced, even when the stakes were impossibly high. But the truth was undeniable—the situation was spiraling, and fast. If the lock failed, it wouldn't just be another mission gone wrong—it would be a catastrophe they couldn't afford. And worse yet, it would be a catastrophe they weren't prepared for.