Tyson walked for hours, burdened by heavy thoughts.
He wasn't sure where he was going or why he had left the Rangers' headquarters. He had just walked out.
Throughout his life, he had often pondered his parents' identities and the reasons for their abandonment. He felt resentment towards them and usually thought that if they ever crossed paths, he would demand answers. However, that opportunity has now slipped away.
He plodded, the chilly night air biting at his skin. He was trying to escape the ghosts that tormented him. The streets felt quieter than expected, with people walking by, unaware of the turmoil within him.
He sighed, looking at his feet as he heard a vehicle crash in the distance. It felt too sudden and loud, almost deliberate. His eyes snapped to the horizon, following the people's gaze down the street.
Tyson hurried toward the source of the noise. When he reached the edge of the main road, he saw an overturned transport truck.
Its cargo was scattered across the street. The truck's engine still sputtered as thick smoke curled into the air. Tyson's gaze locked onto the wreckage—and that's when he spotted Blue, crouching over the scattered materials and quickly scooping up what he could. The rogue was after the valuable nanoparticles.
The sight of Blue—someone who appeared indifferent to the consequences of his actions—triggered him. But it wasn't just Blue. It was everything, everything that had been taken from him.
How could he find answers if he were struggling against someone like him? How would he stand firm against the odds in the future? He needs to overcome this target, no matter the consequences.
"Hands off, you filthy animal!" shouted Tyson.
"Oho… look who's here! Tyson, how are you, my friend?" Blue smiled.
The tension crackled as Tyson and Blue squared off, sporting their activated armors.
Tyson's meta-bot shimmered to life, its sleek white and black design merging with his body. The suit reacted to his thoughts, its metallic surface morphing in response to his movements—the sword in Tyson's hand materializing.
Blue's armor took effect a bit late. The blue-black nano-tech shimmered around his body, enhancing his natural strength and durability.
The nanobots shaped a blaster in Blue's hand, the weapon glowing with a lethal, electric hum as he aimed it at Tyson.
The blaster could fire concentrated blasts of plasma that could pierce through almost any material.
Without hesitation, Tyson lunged forward. He swung his sword horizontally, aiming for Blue's midsection. Blue dodged, stepping back and narrowly avoiding the strike.
Blue retaliated by unleashing a burst of energy from his blaster, and the plasma blast sped toward Tyson.
Tyson reacted instinctively, his Nano-bots forming a shield around his defending hand. The blast struck the shield with a resounding thud. Tyson grunted, momentarily thrown off balance by the impact, but recovered quickly.
Tyson instantly closed the distance as he spun, delivering a brutal overhead strike with his sword.
Blue lifted his arm feebly to deflect it, but the sword's blow against his armor forced him to stumble back, barely holding his ground.
Tyson followed up with a series of rapid, fluid strikes, each more forceful than the last, not allowing his opponent to catch a breath. Despite his strength and firepower, Blue struggled to match Tyson's speed.
Blue unleashed a swift, powerful blast, but Tyson sidestepped just in time, narrowly escaping the attack as it hit the truck behind him.
The vehicle skidded violently, metal screeching as the force of the blast sent it careening off the road, with a shower of sparks flying from the mangled metal.
Blue's free hand grabbed a nearby metal pole during the fight, swinging it up to block Tyson's next strike. Sparks flew as the sword collided with the pole, cutting through it sharply in a single motion. Then, he used the momentum to spin around, bringing the blade down in a mighty arc.
The blade caught Blue's armor at a weak point, where less Nano- partials protected the area of his body. And sparks flew as it sliced through the few Nanoparticles.
Blue grunted in pain, his eyes wide with shock. His reserves had already dropped to 33 percent, as he never bothered to maintain 100 percent like the Rangers.
"What the f—" Blue exclaimed, staggering back and clutching his abdomen. Blood began to drip from the deep gash, but before he could respond, the nanotech in his suit surged toward the wound.
Tiny particles crawled across his skin, instantly sealing the injury and stopping the bleeding.
Blue stumbled backward, coming to terms with the fact that he couldn't keep pace with Tyson's relentless assault. He lifted his blaster again, targeting Tyson's chest, but his hands trembled now.
He paused, uncertain if he could withstand another intense assault from Tyson.
Blue said, panting for breath. "What do you think about calling it a day?"
This is the first time he has felt the need to recharge his meta-bot, unlike Tyson, who must have 100 percent of stored nano-partials in his meta-bot.
Tyson's eyes blazed with rage. "I'll end this when I have your head," he growled, throwing himself at Blue again.
As Blue expertly dodged, he skillfully locked his hand around the sword's hilt. "Got you!"
Tyson kicked him, huffing him from the enemy's hold. His eyes were now fixed on nearby vehicles—some abandoned on the roadside, others half-crushed from the earlier chaos.
He didn't consider the danger or the damage. In one swift, forceful move, he reached out, seized the sharp metal frame of the car, and—without a moment's pause—threw it toward Blue.
Blue had little time to react as his blaster fired in retaliation, but the car was already airborne. It crashed to the ground near Blue, forcing him to dive to the side to avoid the impact. The ground trembled beneath them as debris flew in every direction.
Tyson didn't give Blue a moment to recover. He charged forward, his sword swinging with frantic fury. However, Blue, anticipating the attack and the ensuing moment, swiftly fired his blaster, hitting Tyson mid-charge and sending him backward.
Tyson collided violently with the side of an apartment building, producing an unsettling thud.
Blue was panting heavily; he could feel exhaustion overtaking him. He wasn't sure anymore. Who was he fighting tonight? The same Tyson he'd faced before—or was this some twisted version, a demon that cared nothing for the world around him and was fixated solely on destroying his opponent?
Tyson rose slowly from the ground; his movements were initially sluggish, but Blue could see the fire in his eyes.
Tyson wasn't only battling Blue; he was also confronting his imagined foe that had taken the lives of both his and Nancy's parents.
He believed he had to eliminate him to rid himself of those inner demons.
Blues's breath came in quicker, filled with concern. "Something seems off, my friend. Let me go first, alright?" he whispered.
With that, he fired a dazzling shot into the ground near Tyson, the explosion creating a cloud of smoke and debris that concealed his sight.
In the chaos, Blue escaped, disappearing into the shadows.
Tyson fought through the growing smoke, continuing his pursuit of the target. His thoughts raced as he searched for his foe, but Blue was nowhere to be found. Instead, he encountered only the frightened civilians trapped in the chaos.
His frustration reached a boiling point. "Come back here!" he yelled into the smoke, but his voice echoed back in haunting silence. There was no reply.
Tyson stood among the wreckage, his breaths heavy and erratic, his chest heaving with every inhale. His eyes darted, unfocused, as if searching for something to cling to—a reason, a purpose.
He felt nothing but rage, a hollow anger that consumed him from within. The weight of his parents' deaths, the years of loss...
He wasn't sure whether he was still fighting Blue or if the battle had long since turned inward. He was no longer focused on the rogue or the fight. Instead, he only contemplated the destruction and the sensation of losing control.
The words lingered in the air, obscured by the smoke and debris. Silence enveloped him, suffocating and heavy with the weight of his regret.
His mind was sharp yet chaotic—he felt himself spiraling away. The furious, vengeful side of him—the one that wanted to obliterate everything around him—was gaining control.
He was no longer just a Ranger; he had become a weapon, and that weapon was aimed at everything.
Suddenly, her gentle voice pierced through the chaos of his mind.
"Tyson," she said, her voice wavering,
Nancy.
Tyson blinked, gradually returning to awareness. His vision cleared just enough for him to notice the tremor in her hand and the concern in her eyes.
"Please," she whispered, her voice easing the tension in the air, "stop."
Tyson's breath caught. The world around him seemed to freeze as he processed her words. For a moment, he couldn't speak or move.
His body felt burdensome, as if the consequences of his actions had finally reached him.
At last, Tyson let out a sharp breath, his armor gradually retracting as the fire in his chest faded, replaced by a sense of weariness.
Nancy moved closer, her arms encircling him in a gesture of comfort, and Tyson, unable to keep it together any longer, fell into her embrace.
His body trembled, the dam he had constructed around his emotions breaking apart. The anger, the fear, the grief—it all surged out of him in waves.
As Tyson finally gave in to her embrace, Nancy sensed a weight lift from her chest. He's still present, and he remains Tyson.
She held him close, her voice gentle as she whispered, "I will be here for you, no matter how tough it gets."
The sound of sirens grew louder in the distance as local officers arrived, their voices piercing the tense moment.
They were there to manage the scene and secure the area, yet they kept their distance, watching cautiously as Nancy held Tyson in the center of the chaos. They understood that they must not interfere.
"I'm not trying to pry, but something bigger is happening here. You can talk to me, you know. I want to understand," she whispered. He remained silent.
While the officers quickly secured the area, Nancy remained by Tyson's side, her presence serving as a calm and steady anchor amid his chaotic thoughts.
She observed Edward, Tyson's adoptive father, take command of the scene, issue orders to the officers, and ensure the situation was managed appropriately.
Edward fixed his gaze on Tyson's face, sensing the boy's inner conflict.
"I know you're hurting," he said, his voice filled with understanding. "But anger is our biggest hurdle. We must stop avoiding the pain and learn to fight from a place of strength."
Still disoriented from the battle, Tyson said, "I'm sorry..."
"It happens," Edward replied reassuringly. "We'll talk about it later. Can you take him home?"
Nancy nodded without hesitation. She crouched down next to Tyson and offered him her hand. "Let's go, Tyson."
The crowd's soft murmur drifted in the air as Tyson and Nancy walked away.
The harsh whispers and the judging stares—he could sense them all. But it wasn't the crowd that worried him. The fear of losing control and becoming someone he no longer recognized made him miserable.
Nancy sensed the tension radiating from him. "You didn't lose yourself, Tyson. You just... lost your focus for a moment."
Tyson remained silent, unable to find the right words. She tightened her grip on his arm, gently drawing him closer as they navigated the chaos.
"You're not by yourself in this. You have me."
His eyes glanced toward hers, but he remained silent. He wasn't sure if he could speak.
Meanwhile, Edward stood beside the wreckage, his gaze fixed on Tyson's retreating figure. A knowing expression crossed his face, mixed with concern and quiet pride.
He knew Tyson's heart was torn between the warrior he needed to become and the boy still haunted by his past. Edward's brief words had served as a reminder—a nudge in the right direction, even if it wasn't clear yet. He was sure that one day, his son would realize this too.