Z finally stabilized. It took a while, and I didn't blame her. We were in similar situations. I kind of understood what she was feeling.
"The computer can store things, right? Could it have recorded the camera footage?"
Z thought for a few seconds, then turned toward the central computer. While navigating something like digital folders, she replied,
"I copied the camera footage and deleted the originals from the store servers... so it should be here somewhere."
She continued searching, sliding her fingers across the panel, opening files, checking directories. There were a lot of recordings, especially of alien encounters, combat, and training. It was an impressive database — maybe even worth exploring later.
"Here it is. Let's watch."
And then, the video started. What I saw... was simply humiliating.
There I was, dragging myself across the mall floor, leaving a thick trail of blood behind me. Every inch was pure torture. My groans of pain echoed like the laments of a body on the verge of collapse — human weakness in its purest form. It didn't look heroic. It just looked painfully human.
When I reached the back of the mall, things got even worse. My face was swollen, bloody, like I had been beaten up by fate itself. My body trembled, my breathing was irregular, fragile, and death felt like a shadow slowly closing in.
Then I passed out in the recording. That was the moment — the moment everything could have been revealed. Who saved me. How. Why.
But of course, it wasn't going to be that simple.
A bright golden flash suddenly flooded the screen, obscuring everything. Then a message appeared: "Source disconnected. Transmission error." Someone — or something — had destroyed the camera at the critical moment.
"I'd be surprised if it was that easy..." I sighed. "Thanks, Z. At least you tried."
I looked at her and noticed her holographic features were unstable, fragmenting into lines of code. She was more stressed than I was. Then, suddenly, her body lit up in a burst of gold, like an idea had just struck her.
"Maybe... maybe there's some news coverage. An aerial view... something like that."
It wasn't the brightest plan in the world. But any lead was better than nothing.
Z started combing through news reports, amateur videos, press helicopter footage, interviews. Most of it was irrelevant or repetitive. Until she paused on a local news channel. They were interviewing a woman — and I recognized her instantly. She was the same person I had saved that day.
I instinctively reached out, signaling for Z to stop there.
The footage was from the same day as the incident. The woman was still covered in dust, with light scratches on her arms. Paramedics surrounded her, trying to calm her down as she shook, visibly rattled.
There was something in her eyes... fear, sure, but also awe. Like she had seen something she couldn't even explain.
Honestly? I was kind of excited to hear her talk about the rescue. Being mentioned on TV, even indirectly, would have been amazing. I saw her struggle to speak, taking deep breaths, clearly shaken... but eventually, she spoke:
"I saw a humanoid being... looked like a giant ant. He was standing in front of me, but I think there was more than one, because another one came and blocked his sword. He yelled at me to run... they were monsters."
Me? A monster? I SAVED YOU, YOU UNGRATEFUL—
"Then I heard some noises while I was running. I think it was one of the Rangers... I didn't get a good look."
Of course. Of course it had to be a Ranger. Naturally. So that's it? I got reduced to some random monster and my actions mistaken for those of a typical Ranger. Wonderful.
The rest of the report didn't matter. Empty thanks to the Rangers, comments about how efficient they were, how no one was seriously hurt. Honestly? Exhausting. The truth just slipping away while the applause went to the wrong side.
The day dragged on as we kept searching for something, anything. But there was nothing. No footage, no clues. Not even my blood was there. It had vanished. Cleaned. As if I had never bled. As if I had never even been there. It was... bizarre, to say the least. I didn't even know it was possible for a city to have this much mystery.
Z, still going through files, suddenly said:
"Hey, idiot... do you think that's it?"
The event with the extra Ranger? Hopefully. If that's what it is... he must be among us.
"I hope so, Z. I really hope so."
Silence fell between us. One of those heavy silences, where no one knows what to say. Of course, she was the first to break it.
"By the way... why are you still standing here, idiot? Go rest. You're going to spend a long time without training... whether you like it or not."
Her arm morphed, transforming into a sharp, threatening blade. I got the message. It was hard not to.
"I'm going, I'm going."
I backed away slowly, dragging my feet toward the dormitory. Sleeping for an entire week had left me with way too much pent-up energy. I spent the rest of the day — and the whole night — studying. Not that I could do much else. Every time I set foot outside my room, Z's voice would blare through the base speakers, scolding me and ordering me back to bed.
Was this really a dormitory... or a disguised prison?
A few days passed... well, actually, three weeks. Three full weeks. And yes, my body was truly broken. Every part of me screamed, as if my bones had their own memories of the pain.
Z, being the excellent jailer she is, blocked my fingerprint access to the training room. I couldn't sneak in even at night. Damn it. She had figured out my ridiculous habit of trying to train secretly during the night. Anticipated it... and shut it down at the root.
And where was she? Locked up in the workshop. She spent the whole day inside. I only caught glimpses of her two or three times a day, and even then, only for a few seconds. She barely said anything. Just took my wristband before locking herself away completely. An upgrade? Maybe. But part of me felt it was the opposite — like she was limiting my access, adjusting everything to keep me grounded. To keep me from feeling too confident.
Meanwhile, my friends... well, they believed I got caught in the crossfire. That the aliens who attacked me were the same ones that showed up later, when they arrived. To them, I just helped evacuate the mall and got hurt in the process. Not exactly a lie... but nowhere near the whole truth. It's half a story. A truth cut in half.
And the way they defeated the enemies? It made my blood boil just thinking about it. They were practically joking around. Making wisecracks, fighting like it was just another day at the gym. No real effort. No pressure. None of the urgency of someone who knows a single mistake could mean death. They didn't feel the chill down their spines, the weight in their chests, the blood dripping from their brows. They didn't feel any of it.
I did. And that made me realize something uncomfortable. Something I'd been trying to bury, but that slipped through — like a leak in a fragile dam: envy.
Yeah. I was jealous.
That feeling consumed me quietly. And the more I saw my friends laughing it off, playing with their own luck, the more disconnected I felt from them. I talked about commitment, about responsibility, about understanding the stakes... and they laughed. Ignored me. Treated me like I was a teenager arguing with his parents about staying out late.
The truth is, these past three weeks, I did everything I could to stay busy. Reading, studying, reviewing strategies, training in my head. Because if I let my mind rest, even for a second... it would all come rushing back. It would bring back the image of them laughing while I bled. It would bring back the anger, the resentment.
And most of all... it would bring that cursed feeling back. That damn envy I hated so much but couldn't shake.
Unfortunately, you can't train your mind to block that out. I tried. As dumb as it sounds... trying doesn't hurt, right?
"Are you gonna keep brooding in your melancholy or actually do something useful?"
I don't get a second of peace, do I? But... that voice didn't come from the speakers. It came from the workshop.
I turned reflexively — and there she was: Z, covered in soot from head to toe. Now that I thought about it... how does a hologram get dirty? Must be aesthetic. A little flair to seem more "real."
"Tired of being locked up? I thought you had short-circuited again."
I turned fully toward her, stepping closer. It was rare to see Z outside the workshop lately.
"Ha ha, very funny. Turned into a comedian during your coma?"
She was still the same. Sarcastic, direct, and strangely comforting in her own way. This was probably our longest conversation in weeks. When I stood face to face with her, I noticed something I'd almost forgotten: that faint green glow running across her body. A soft, serene shimmer. It had been a while since I'd seen it up close.
"Here it is. Just don't overdo it this time. There won't be another miracle like that."
Z extended her hands. I expected to see the old wristband... but no. Instead, she handed me two metallic bracelets. They were thinner, sleeker, with a clean finish — like a final prototype, polished and complete. The "X" that had once been engraved was now part of the very metal itself — thick, silver.
"Thank y—"
I didn't even get to finish the sentence. The bracelets reacted on their own, leaping from her hands and locking tightly around my wrists. I immediately felt tiny needles piercing my skin. It hurt — not unbearably, but enough to make my body tense up. Then, a liquid rushed into my veins. Cold. Heavy.
It was strange. It should have hurt a lot more. But the pain passed almost as quickly as it came. And before I could react, a voice echoed inside my mind:
[Connection established with the nervous system. Voice recognition disabled. Mental recognition activated.]
[Hello, user "???"! Welcome to the base's database. You are now connected to everything, just like user "ZAFIRA."]
I looked around, confused. Small interfaces began to materialize around me, as if I had stepped into an augmented reality game. My vision slowly adjusted, forming a simple "hub": basic information about my health, options for the bracelet transformations... It was strange, but somehow, it felt natural.
One option, however, stood out: there was a locked icon highlighted on the display. I knew exactly what it was. "Combat Mode." The name said it all. There was probably some requirement to unlock it. And, of course, finding out what it would demand... that was another story.
"What is this?" I asked, still absorbing the flood of information, turning my eyes back to Z.
"Isn't it obvious? Upgrades. Now, think about using your sword."
Her tone was dry, like it was the simplest thing in the world. I obeyed without thinking much. I imagined the sword appearing in my hand... and before I could even open my mouth to say some cliché command, it was already there. Instant. Way faster, more solid, and more natural than before.
"Now you don't have to say anything to activate your weapons," she said with a faint smile. "Just think about them."
For someone expecting a downgrade, this was simply unbelievable. I felt lighter, more efficient — almost... perfect.
"Thank you, Z. Really. This will help a lot. But about that lock—"
"We're not talking about that... yet," she cut me off, turning her face away, clearly ending the conversation with no room for argument.
"But why? How do I activate it?" I insisted, walking after her.
Z briefly turned back, giving me a sarcastic smile over her shoulder — the kind of smile that said more than a thousand words:
"You'll find out."
Before disappearing into the workshop again, Z threw me one last warning:
"By the way, the training room is open for you. Have fun."
She said it in such a casual way, like I would sprint there immediately. And, well... I did. I'm a simple guy, what can I say?
When I arrived, a wave of nostalgia hit me. The training room looked frozen in time, exactly like the last time I had been there. My body still wasn't 100%, but I needed to test it... just a little. Just to feel it again.
Without thinking too much, I loaded up the same alien from that fateful night. It had become almost a ritual for me — using that creature as a benchmark for my progress. Honestly, it was like bullying him at this point.
The alien materialized in front of me once again. Its presence, which had once triggered fear and tension, now felt... irrelevant. Without hesitation, it lunged at me with everything it had. It was fast, I'll admit — but not fast enough.
The sword sprang into my hand like a natural extension of my body, shining with a vibrant intensity.
"Bloodline" I murmured instinctively.
In a clean motion, the blade sliced through the enemy. I felt the core ripped out with surgical precision. A single, perfect strike.
[New record achieved: 6.30 seconds → 3.00 seconds.]
I observed the result with a slight smile.
You see that, Aloinem? I'm getting better and better.
In the middle of my small victory high, I heard the shrill alarm blaring through the base. My body reacted before my mind: I sprinted toward the center.
When I arrived, I saw the computer interface flashing nonstop. I reached out, and the wall in front of me slid open, revealing the command screen. My vision expanded as the panel grew larger before my eyes.
The Rangers were in trouble. The screen showed them down, facing a powerful enemy.
Z appeared at my side, running. Her expression said exactly what I feared.
"Is it... that?" she asked. "Please tell me it's not."
I smirked. No, it wasn't "that." It was something even better.
"No. Don't you see? One of them is still standing... Wait, is that Ph?"
I frowned. I knew this event — it was supposed to happen with the Red Ranger. It was meant to be the Battlizer event. But now... it seemed destiny had other plans.
Damn. If that's how it is, then so be it.
I pressed the communicator.
"Ph, can you hear me? Do exactly as I say."
A slight noise came before his voice replied:
"Good to hear your voice, man... WHAT THE HELL DO I DO?"
I quickly checked the GPS. Ph was near the beach. Perfect.
"Run to the beach. He'll follow you. Don't worry about the others, just focus on this. And when you get there, jump into the water."
"My brother in Christ... you've gotta be kidding me" he said. That was a good sign. He was still the classic Ph — swearing under pressure and anxiety.
"Do what I said. It's going to work."
The line went silent for a moment.
"Goddamn it" he gasped. "...Okay! Better than standing here waiting to get wrecked!"
Through the screen, I watched Ph sprint, dodging attacks and swinging his sword. He had two minutes. That was all he needed.
"What kind of absurd plan are you cooking up now, idiot?" Z asked, narrowing her eyes at me.
"Can't you see it on the display? Don't you notice the Zords have something extra?"
She frowned, skeptical, but quickly checked it out. Her expression when she saw it was priceless.
"What the hell? Why does Ph have two Zords?"
I looked at her, excitement flashing in my eyes.
"Z, it's called a Battlizer. In other words, an upgrade."
I turned my attention back to the screen and activated Ph's extra Zord. I watched the machine rise from the ocean, slicing through the waves at incredible speed. It was the missing piece.
Ph reached the beach just like I had instructed and, without hesitation, leapt toward the water.
At the exact moment his body almost touched the surface, the Zord burst from the sea toward him. A bright blue light engulfed everything, even blinding Ph's own visor.
When the light faded, Ph hovered above the water — transformed.
His sword had morphed into an elegant rapier, connected to his arm by a robotic fish-shaped head. His body was now covered in sleek metallic plates, reinforced, imposing. A true warrior.
The enemy stared at him, confused, and growled,
"What did you do, Ranger?"
Ph laughed, raising the rapier with absolute confidence.
"Leveled the playing field, asshole."