Third Person POV
The four Rangers—red, blue, yellow, and black—were battered, bruised, and unmorphed. Their suits had flickered away, leaving only exhaustion and pain behind. They stood amidst the debris of their confrontation, the pavement scorched and cracked. Dr. Tommy Oliver, the Black Ranger, stood protectively before his students, his body shielding them in a silent vow that he would not let them fall again.
Across from them, the White Ranger stood—cold and imposing. His White Drago Sword was raised, pointed directly at them. The mechanical voice that came from his helmet echoed with cruel warning.
"You've been warned, Power Rangers," he said, his tone dark and resolute. "Stay out of my way or be destroyed."
He turned his back on them, preparing to take flight. But before he could launch into the air, a sudden blast of energy struck his back with a sharp crackle. The White Ranger staggered mid-motion.
"Who's there?!" he barked, whirling around.
A violet figure landed not far from the group, touching down with deliberate grace. Silver-lavender armor gleamed under the sunlight, adorned with violet crystal runes and fossilized etchings. The figure's visor shimmered with temporal sigils that pulsed faintly like a clock's heartbeat. A gauntlet rested on her left wrist, its surface glowing with gentle, ancient light. The air around her seemed to bend subtly—warping, stretching, then resetting—as if time itself acknowledged her presence.
"Oh great," Conner muttered, eyes narrowing. "Another unknown Ranger."
The White Ranger scoffed. "Another one? Doesn't matter. I'll be the last one standing."
The violet-clad Ranger tilted her head gently. "Oh… I came here as quickly as I could," she said softly, her voice mechanical yet courteous. "But it appears… I have arrived too late. My sincerest apologies."
Tommy furrowed his brows. "What do you mean by that?"
The Violet Ranger turned slightly toward him. "I meant that I had intended to assist you all in your battle. Alas… I was not swift enough."
She turned toward the White Ranger. Her posture remained calm. "If you would, sir, I must insist that you accompany me."
The tone was so soft, so polite, that for a moment the demand didn't register as a threat. It was surreal.
The White Ranger barked a laugh. "You think you can take me?"
Without another word, the Violet Ranger leaped backward. A shimmering bow manifested in her hands, drawn tight in a blink. She fired.
"Echo Flare—Volley Strike."
Three arrows launched in rapid succession. They struck the White Ranger's chest, left knee, and right shoulder. He grunted, stumbling.
Before he could recover, the arrows pulsed—temporal energy detonating in delayed bursts. The air cracked, and the White Ranger was blasted backward, hitting the ground with a loud thud.
"What the—?!" Conner, Kira, and Ethan shouted in unison. Their minds raced back to a familiar scene—Goldenrod. The same technique.
"It was her," Kira whispered, her eyes wide.
The White Ranger groaned and clutched his chest. He stood and narrowed his gaze. With a flourish of his sword, he cried out, "Laser Arrows!"
A barrage of white-hot energy arrows shot toward the violet Ranger. She did not flinch.
The blasts struck. Smoke rose, concealing her from sight.
"Pathetic," the White Ranger sneered. "All that bravado and nothing to show for it."
But as the smoke cleared… she remained. Not a scratch on her. Her posture unshaken.
She gave a small shrug. "That would be my Temporal Endurance, sir. It has its uses."
Before he could react, she fired again. This time a larger, single arrow. It streaked through the air, glowing brilliantly.
It hit him center-mass. The White Ranger cried out and crashed to the ground.
The other Rangers took a step forward—but an arrow landed in front of them, halting their approach.
"What are you doing?!" Ethan shouted, fists clenched.
The Violet Ranger didn't even turn around. "It is dangerous, sir. Kindly allow me to handle it."
Ethan blinked. Her words… made sense. He stepped back without realizing it.
She approached the White Ranger, slowly, steps deliberate. But as she drew near, he sprang up with a shout, throwing a punch.
She sidestepped, narrowly avoiding it.
"How about a hand-to-hand battle?" the White Ranger challenged.
"If that is your preference, I shall comply," she responded with a slight bow.
The two clashed in a flurry of motion.
The White Ranger threw a punch. She blocked.
He spun with a kick. She ducked.
She retaliated with a swift jab to his abdomen. He twisted away, countering with a sweeping kick that connected and sent her stumbling back.
She collided with the wall of a nearby structure, a soft grunt escaping her lips.
"Our battle's not over yet, Violet Ranger," he growled.
She rose to her feet. "Indeed. I shall not allow you to escape, sir."
She sprinted forward, timing her steps with perfect precision. Their fists collided. They spun, flipped, exchanged strikes—he was stronger, she was faster, and the tempo of the fight escalated with each second.
She weaved around his sword swipes with uncanny grace, her form ghosting between attacks. He countered with brute force, catching her off guard with a sharp elbow that sent her backpedaling.
She jumped onto a wall, rebounded mid-air, and struck with a spinning kick. He caught her leg, threw her down—but she twisted, using the momentum to flip back to her feet.
The two stared at each other, breathing hard beneath their helmets.
"You are formidable," she said respectfully.
"So are you," he admitted through gritted teeth.
Then he vanished.
Not walked.
Flew.
He launched into the air with explosive speed, soaring away before she could reach him.
The Violet Ranger narrowed her gaze, then stomped the ground and launched herself up. In a blink, she had followed him, leaping rooftop to rooftop.
Below, the four remaining Rangers stared after them, their expressions stunned.
"Who… were they?" Ethan asked aloud.
None of them had the answer. But all of them knew—nothing was going to be the same now.