Seraphel, Archangel of Punishment flourished his dark wings, born in his galactic armor, and whirled around in place to strike Doctor Faust across the face, shattering his sunglasses. Faust’s eyes, a demonic red in color, were exposed.
“You balesome fiend, Faust. How dare you sell your soul to the Betrayer.”
“Yaldabaoth had foolish expectations. My master never intended to have a sin invented for him. ‘Hubris’ is what it is, though. Right?
The Archangel smashed his captor’s face. “You curr. You will call the Lord, God!”
Doctor Faust merely laughed. There was nothing the angels could do to stop him. He could sense that all six keys had been used. Lord Satan was practically here already.
The chained doctor intended to anger the angel more, perhaps even to the point of murder, “The more you push, the more they will push back. Know when to quit, fool. They’re got the power and a force that you have never seen before–the ability to morph and even up the score. No one will ever take them down. The power lies on their side.”
Seraphel cried, “Six! So many devils unleashed upon the world of man.”
Doctor Faust was loving this.
The Archangel lamented, “Belphegor, Beelzebub, Leviathan, Asmodeus, and Mammon. Lucifer?”
Faust laughed, “the first I set free.”
“Your plans will be foiled. The humans’ military and your Fuingers will destroy each other. It is only a matter of time. None will stay your execution.”
Faust said, “good.” He was honest. He wanted to die here.
“Let them call Satan from the Depths. I would deal with his ilk myself. God has so empowered me.”
“Has he, now? We’ll see.” Faust’s comments were followed by peals of his fiendish laughter.
Private Bulkmeier ambled along the fence, Skull, the patrol dog, at his side, enjoying the early morning calm. The Martian sun cast long shadows across the military base, and the air was crisp with the promise of a new day; it was like the morning’s unexpected storm had never happened. That was Climatrol for you. As he patrolled the perimeter, a peculiar sight caught his attention: four teenagers, seemingly unfazed by the military presence, stood on the other side of the fence. Their eyes betrayed a hint of mischief, and the unmistakable aroma of cannabis wafted through the air.
One of them, a stroud looking girl with brown hair all up in a ponytail, went over to the fence and started calling the dog over.
Skull blinked at her and looked up to Private Bulkmeier for guidance. “Please step away from the fence. I am authorized to shoot trespassers if they try to cross the fence.”
A quirky little white girl with bouncy wavy blonde hair with pink ends came up to the fence too, and with a smiling face, smothered in freckles, said, “Ooooh, we just want to pet the puppy.”
A mixed-race girl, with curly hair tinged in red, wearing a red backpack, had a whole box of twinkies in her hands. She asked Bulkmeier if he had enough breakfast. She wanted to support the troops. They all agreed with that. They were like, “yeah, support the fucking troops!” The boy among them, a tall lean and lanky one with a raincoat on, cheered as well. Bulkmeier had been wondering about that one.
Bulkmeier could tell they were all high, but boy did their weed smell good. Really good. He took the proffered twinkie through the bars, saw that its clear plastic wrappings seemed undamaged; ripped it open and gobbled it down. Twinkies were good.
“What are you guys all doing out here at nine am? You guys out camping all night or something?” There were substantial woodlands to the north of the base, to be fair. He was super sure these kids just wanted to get high with a real soldier. Probably to brag to their other friends. Kids, these days.
The bubbly blonde confirmed his suspicions. “Yup. Campers. In the woods.”
Bulkmeier said, “You guys smell a little woodsy, if you know what I mean?”
The brunette girl asked him what he’d meant. But the mixed race girl took a little red pipe out of her pocket and stuck it through the fencing.
Bulkmeier said, “fuck yeah. What a great morning. I had to go on foot patrol of the whole perimeter cause I slept through the tornado attack this morning. But now it's weed and twinkies.”
He asked for a light, and the fidgety blonde gave him a Hello Kitty lighter. “Cute,” he said.
He took a hit and said, “Fuck, that’s great. You kids from around here?”
Skull looked up at him with a worried expression, but the girl with the backpack produced a fat long stick of beef jerky for the burly doggo, and that was that.
They sat down together, on opposite sides of the fence, in the most forested remote corner of the base’s perimeter. The German Shepherd was on his back, pressed up as far into the chainlinks as he could, while Andreaus and Misty scratched him through the diamond-shaped holes as best they could.
They had all introduced themselves after a few minutes. Gemma tossed the whole box of twinkies over the fence, and Bulkmeier had caught it and torn in.
Bulkmeier was sitting cross-legged on his side of the fence, facing the teens he was hanging with. He picked dandelions and wrapped their own stems around in a knot that would pop the head off the tiny flower when tightened. He said, “mama had a baby and its head popped off,” melodically.
Gemma thought that was funny. Nobody else did.
“So you kids are just out fucking around?”
“Actually, we’re kind of looking for our friend. He’s lost or something,” said Andreaus.
“Oh, yeah? What’s he look like, I can radio it in.”
“He’s long dark hair, and brown skin, and he looks like he’s from Asia on Earth.”
“So you’re all friends, huh?”
Gemma said, “Kind of. It’s more like we’re a superhero team. We are down one team member, though. We are trying to figure out where he is today.”
Bulkmeier said, “Cool. What are your superpowers?”
Gemma said, “I can grow a pair of bharal goat horns that I can detach from my head and throw like a boomerang. Also, I can pick up shit and throw it like it’s a volleyball, no matter what it is. Rocks, skulls, whatever.”
“Cool, cool. What’s your power?” Bulkmeier looked at Andreaus.
Andreaus had to think a moment before answering, “I guess I just grow a unicorn horn that I can stab people with. I haven’t really tested them out very much. Maybe I should? Seems like a good idea. Oh yeah, I turned it into a spear yesterday.”
Misty interrupted, “I don’t know what my powers are at all. It’s not fair. I only got to transform once.”
Busby said, “I’ve only used my power once, too. I can make swords out of anything. I guess that’s it.”
Bulkmeier looked at him very sincerely and said, “That’s a very cool power, brother. You can make swords? That’s awesome.”
“I know,” he grinned.
Private Bulkmeier felt bad that Misty didn’t yet know what her powers were. But then he thought of something.
“What powers does your missing friend have?”
Busby said, “He can create tornadoes.”
“What?” Bulkmeier was trying to figure out how these kids were fucking with him, but couldn’t fathom it.
Gemma said, “Yeah, his fool ass attacked the base this morning, and we’re trying to figure out how to rescue him.”
“You kids smoke too much,” he laughed.
Misty said, “I’m gonna figure out what my powers are now, okay?”
Everybody else protested this, but it was too late. She took a Pink Key, about the size of a pen, out of her purse and poked it into her navel with a giggle.
Andreaus said, “Please don’t, Misty.”
Too late.
Misty fucking transformed. Her Ranger suit was sleek and thin, somewhat more lightly armored than others. She almost looked avian, as her helmet was peaked and had a bird beak-like facade. There was a pop mid-transformation, and a cape of the most delicate looking feathers blossomed from her shoulders to cascade down her back.
Busby thought she looked amazing.
Bulkmeier looked down at the pipe in his hands, wondering if he’d just been dosed with acid. That had to be it. These kids were a mess. He stood up, and called Skull, but the dog only kind of responded.
Gemma had her key in hand, “We thought about attacking the base head on, but we didn’t want to lose like our buddy did. We’re not fucking stupid. So we were walking trying to figure out another way in. Do you know any?”
Was Bulkmeier being threatened right now? Or was this a hallucination?
The Pink Ranger giggled and ran over to a really big rock on the ground. She grabbed it and it rose in her hands, though not truly did she lift it. She was laughing like mad. The rock began spinning around in her hands, slowly, as if it was captured by a tiny gravitational field.
Andreaus said, “So you like, mitigate mass or something? Cool. I wonder what the biggest thing you could lift would be?”
Misty, holding a rock that was at least one-thousands pounds heavy, walked over to Bulkmeier and said, “So have you seen our buddy?”
Bulkmeier’s hand almost went for his sidearm, but he thought differently. He should now draw down on kids because he was stoned. That would look very bad on his record. Also, what if that rock she was holding was real?
Busby, still sensing the vestige of a threat, took his Yellow Key out, stabbed himself, and became the Yellow Ranger. The Yellow Ranger suit was massive. Bigger even than the Green Ranger suit had been, Gemma noticed.
It had a massive spike protruding from each of its shoulder pauldrons. As they were all at a corner of the fencing, Busby was able to grab the very post at the intersection itself, and draw it from the ground. No sooner had it departed its moorings than it had become a giant sword, at least eight feet in length.
Gemma and Andreaus looked at each other like, “fuck it,” and both used their keys. Bulkmeier nearly shit himself.
The Red Ranger asked the military private if he’d seen their friend. He nodded but then shook his head, “if he was the tornado, he was taken underground. I’m not allowed down there. Please don’t kill me.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Andreaus said, “We were never going to kill you. How many more dogs are on the base?”
“What?”
Gemma sighed, “We’re going to attack the base now. We saw you walking your dog and thought that we don’t want to hurt any dogs. How many dogs?”
“Twelve!” The rotund private answered.
“Can you get the puppies somewhere safe? What is about to happen is gonna make this morning look like a drizzle.” Said Misty, playing around with her levitating boulder.
“What should I do?” Bulkmeier was now terrified.
“You have ten minutes until we attack. You can either warn everyone, or save the dogs.”
Bulkmeier thanked them and made a beeline for the animal kennels. What cool terrorists.
Gemma watched him run and commented, “I’ll kill every mutherfucker in my way today, but I am not hurting any dogs. I have to sleep at night.”
Bulkmeier made up an excuse at wanting to give the dogs a good wash, and hurriedly loaded them up into the back of a truck. He heard explosions ring out somewhere on the base. The superhero teens were attacking! He ran through the gate in a truck full of german shepherds, as the alarm sounded out that they were under attack. He didn’t know where to go, so he just drove. That was the last day he was in the army.
The Blood Red Ranger, Gemma, moved with calculated precision, her combat instincts heightened by the surge of power coursing through her veins. The exo-frame armored soldiers, clad in imposing mechanical suits, formed a defensive line, unaware of the impending onslaught. Gemma unleashed a flurry of brutal strikes, her movements a blur of crimson as she dismantled the soldiers with ruthless efficiency. Machine Gun fire struck her and bounced off, almost like a stream of water. Yellow flashes hurling through the air, striking her armored body, and diverting away. The ricochets wounded other soldiers with unintentional friendly fire. Their guns were meaningless.
Each punch and kick landed with devastating force, sending the metallic clang of armor reverberating through the air. Gemma's martial prowess, amplified by the supernatural strength granted by her ranger suit, made her a formidable force. She exploited weaknesses in the exo-frames, targeting joints and vulnerable points with surgical precision. She found out quickly that by severing the central spinal structure of the exoskeletal armor, that she could disable a soldier very quickly.
The soldiers, initially confident in their advanced technology, soon found themselves overwhelmed by the sheer ferocity of Gemma's assault. One by one, they fell, their exo-frames damaged and broken under the relentless barrage. Gemma moved seamlessly between opponents, a relentless force of nature that left destruction in her wake. Gemma didn’t like to rely on her tricky projectile powers unless the enemy could hit her back somehow hard enough to matter. For these ones, she used her hands and feet. And that felt good.
A soldier ran near her, shouted the sole word, “die!” She said, “you first,” and grabbed the barrel of his gun. Despite the rapid rounds issuing from it, she dismissed it and swung the soldier, still gripping his firearm, throwing him off into the distance.
She cried out, “Anybody else want a Purple Heart?”
As the last of the armored soldiers crumpled to the ground, Gemma stood amidst the wreckage, her suit adorned with the remnants of the battle–minor impact dents on her armor. The once-imposing exo-frames now lay scattered like discarded toys. Gemma's eyes, obscured by the red visor of her helmet, betrayed no emotion.
The Blue Ranger, Andreaus, faced an approaching threat with unwavering determination. Soldiers in a vehicle, armed with a tripod-mounted machine gun, advanced towards her position. Unfazed, Andreaus summoned the power of her ranger suit, the unicorn horn on her helmet glowing with mystical energy.
As the vehicle closed in, Andreaus moved with agility and grace, swiftly dodging gunfire with calculated precision. The soldiers, confident in the firepower of their mounted machine gun, soon realized they were facing a force beyond their expectations. Andreaus activated the unique feature of her ranger suit – the spinning unicorn horn – which extended into a powerful weapon.
With a swift and powerful thrust, Andreaus impaled the approaching vehicle's engine, rendering it inoperable. The unicorn horn glowed brighter, channeling its energy into the disabled vehicle. The impact of the halt sent the soldier flying from the vehicle where they careened into the pavement hard enough to roll them out of consciousness. The machine gun fell silent.
Busby, clad in the mighty armor of the Yellow Ranger, wielded a colossal sword that seemed almost too large for mortal hands. As a squad of soldiers advanced, armed with advanced weaponry and exo-frame suits, Busby stood his ground. The great sword, summoned by the power of the Yellow Ranger, gleamed with an otherworldly radiance. Bullets were deflected from his armor like raindrops. Those that struck his sword did nothing to quell the aggressive ardor mired at the heart of each of his swings.
Busby fought to return to normalcy. He didn’t want these powers so much as he wanted to just do something to make the world into what he wanted. That was it. He was fighting next to Misty, and afterwards he felt they would be together in some sense. That was as good as a future for him.
With a thunderous swing, Busby unleashed the full might of the enormous blade. The Yellow Ranger moved with incredible speed and precision, cutting through the air and adversaries alike. Being struck by the blade didn’t even matter, the shockwaves of pressure it released per swing was more than enough to quell the fiercest of the soldiers that confronted him. The soldiers, encased in their high-tech exo-frames, were no match for the sheer force and skill of the Yellow Ranger.
The Artes of Mars, that Busby didn’t yet know he’d sold his soul to obtain, empowered his actions like unto a god.
One by one, they fell before the mighty sweeps and strikes of Busby's oversized weapon. The great sword cleaved through exo-frames and armor, leaving a trail of defeated opponents in its wake. The Yellow Ranger's movements were a dance of annihilation, a story of power and purpose. A symphony of destruction.
Despite facing advanced military technology, Busby's connection to the Yellow Ranger's powers elevated him to a level beyond the capabilities of the soldiers. The Fukugō Ken, a manifestation of his newfound abilities, became an instrument of justice against those who threatened his peace.
The Pink Ranger gracefully moved through the chaos of the battlefield, her cloak of white and pink feathers flowing behind her. As soldiers in exo-frame armor approached, she activated her power, manipulating the density of the air around them. The soldiers suddenly found themselves burdened with an immense weight, their movements slowed to a crawl.
This made Misty seem to move around them at super-speed. There was nothing their bullets could do. She swatted them out of the air like flies.
With precision, the Pink Ranger gracefully lifted one soldier after another, rendering them helpless in her grasp. The once formidable exo-frames now felt like lead, making the soldiers easy targets for her teammates. She maneuvered through the battlefield, creating a path for the other Rangers to follow as they took down the incapacitated soldiers. The Pink Ranger's unique ability proved to be a game-changer, turning the tide of the battle in their favor.
One touch from the Pink Ranger and you were done. She could simply melt the fires of battle in others. You could not fight her, because she didn’t permit it. Misty was ‘the boss.’
An area of the ground split apart as two hangar doors in the ground, that had been masking the presence of an immense elevator, parted. A giant robotic dinosaur of a machine rose from below ground. Its machine sounds produced by movements alone produced an almost roaring noise. It felt alive, it was so advanced.
Facing the military's ultimate weapon, the Rangers found themselves up against a colossal, heavily armed mechanical adversary. Towering over the battlefield, this formidable war machine resembled a bipedal behemoth, equipped with an arsenal of devastating weapons. The ground quivered as it advanced, its presence casting a shadow over the Rangers.
Undeterred, the Red Ranger, Blue Ranger, Yellow Ranger, and Pink Ranger spread out to strategize against this colossal threat. The behemoth unleashed a barrage of missiles. Meanwhile, the Yellow Ranger wielded his immense sword to deflect incoming projectiles.
“This thing is fucking huge,” Said Andreaus.
In a display of agility, the Pink Ranger gracefully navigated through the chaos, manipulating density to evade attacks. The Red Ranger charged forward, engaging the colossal adversary in close combat, aiming for vulnerable joints.
“It’s like punching a goddamn tank!”
The mechanical monstrosity, a weapon of mass destruction designed to counteract any threat, relentlessly pursued the Rangers. Evoking the spirit of stealth and tactical prowess, the Rangers utilized their unique powers to outmaneuver and strike back. It launched missiles at them, which actually hurt. They struck at its massive titanium legs, to little avail.
Busby was smote by a barrage of the mecha-weapons battery and found himself in a world of pain, so hurled from the earth. He hit the ground with a mighty thud, disorienting him.
The giant mecha kicked Gemma and sent her flying. She hadn’t anticipated such a basic attack that it had caught her totally off guard.
Andreaus backed the fuck off, not wanting any of that bullshit action.
Misty, as deranged as always, grabbed an M-24 tank that sat unused, in a row of similar war engines, and tried to throw it at the mecha threat. The massive machine just dropped in front of her. She said, “Shit kitties!” She really ought to have learned how to use her powers before fighting the fucking army.
Gemma saw her failure and shouted, “pick it back up, jellyfish brain; set me up.”
Misty lifted the tank, and Gemma lunged at it, spiking it with her almighty force. The tank went from a pink aura to a red, and rebounded from the earth before flying at incredible velocity directly into the mecha foe. With the power to manipulate the fundamental nature of objects, the Red Ranger wielded an extraordinary ability that transcended the conventional limits of physics. Known as the Volleyblitz Power, this unique attribute allowed the ranger to imbue any object with the properties of potential energy and energy dispersion reminiscent of a volleyball.
The upper portion of the robot’s body rotated, so that it would receive the blow to one of its gun-ended extremities, rather than its core.
There was an explosion, and part of its militant functions had apparently been annihilated by the opposed force in the impact epicenter. It spun back around, its useful side targeting them, and unleashed a big fat sexy barrage of anime missiles–crayons with shoe strings attached, flying through the air at them.
Gemma screamed, “Fuck my face!” And ducked to the ground, as there were a lot of goddamn missiles on the way.
Andraues said, “fuck beans!” She ran ahead of the others and used her unicorn horn superpowers, or whatever, to make a shield of force or something. She didn’t know what the fuck she was doing. It was all instinct, and she didn’t like it. She felt like a moron for not knowing more about what she was doing. If she survived this bullshit, she was gonna min/max the fuck out of herself, and all the others. This was their lives now, and if it was up to her to make sure they didn’t fuck around at it, then so be it.
She thought for half a second, using her one-hundred-eighty IQ. How fast can this thing spin?
As the swarm of deadly missiles hurtled toward the Blue Ranger, the Unicorn Horn began its mesmerizing spin, transcending the ordinary realm of weaponry. The ranger, adorned in the cerulean blue suit with the majestic horn, tapped into the quantum energies residing within the spinning artifact.
With each rotation, the Unicorn Horn generated a quantum field that reached out into the subatomic fabric of reality. As the missiles approached, their trajectories became entangled in the intricate dance of quantum particles influenced by the Blue Ranger's extraordinary power.
Harnessing the principles of spooky action at a distance, the Blue Ranger manipulated the very essence of matter and energy. In a stunning display of quantum finesse, the Ranger deflected the missiles from their intended path, creating a protective barrier that defied the laws of classical physics.
The missiles, now under the quantum influence of the Unicorn Horn, swirled around the Blue Ranger harmlessly, their trajectories altered by the subatomic dance orchestrated by the spinning artifact. The battlefield became a testament to the fusion of mysticism and science, as the Blue Ranger harnessed the unparalleled potential of the Unicorn Horn to defy the onslaught of the mech's formidable weaponry.
“Holy shit. I’m a god now.” Andreaus realized.
On a surface level, the spinning Unicorn Horn serves as a formidable melee weapon, allowing the Blue Ranger to fend off adversaries with unparalleled finesse. However, the more profound capabilities emerge when its rotation transcends the ordinary. At higher speeds, the Unicorn Horn taps into the peculiar world of quantum mechanics, where particles become entangled in a phenomenon known as "spooky action at a distance."
She began laughing. Nothing could fucking touch her. If she was ready.
This quantum influence granted the Blue Ranger unparalleled control over the fundamental building blocks of reality. The spinning motion generated a quantum field, enabling the Ranger to manipulate matter and energy on a subatomic scale. This newfound power extended beyond mere physical force, allowing the Blue Ranger to affect the very fabric of reality itself.
Gemma shouted, “everybody, work together!”
In a breathtaking display of their combined powers, the Red, Blue, Yellow, and Pink Rangers orchestrated a symphony of destruction against their adversaries. Pink Ranger, with her ability to mitigate density, effortlessly lifted a tank into the air, rendering its mass inconsequential. Yellow Ranger, wielding his colossal barbarian composite sword, transformed the airborne tank into a gargantuan blade with a flick of his wrist.
As the massive sword hung menacingly in the air, Red Ranger stepped forward. Her power to manipulate physics came into play as she spiked the weapon, propelling it downward with an unrestrained force that defied the laws of nature. The once-formidable tank, now a lethal sword, rebounded off of the ground like a ball, and initiated a lethal spin. The whirling green torus projectile hurled through space. Meanwhile, Blue Ranger's spinning Unicorn Horn reached unprecedented speeds, influencing subatomic particles and creating a field of cosmic precision. With every rotation, the horn ensured the colossal sword would strike its target unerringly. The culmination of their powers unleashed a cataclysmic assault, an irresistible force forged from the unity of the Red, Blue, Yellow, and Pink Rangers.
The tank-blade struck the giant metal-gear machine across its torso. When propelled at sufficiently high velocities, steel exhibits an extraordinary ability to penetrate titanium, demonstrating the profound impact of kinetic energy on materials. The laws of physics governing projectile motion come into play, and the combination of speed and mass transforms the steel into a formidable force capable of breaching even the resilient barrier of titanium. This phenomenon underscores the importance of velocity and momentum in determining the efficacy of projectile penetration, showcasing the dynamic interplay between material properties and the physical laws governing projectile motion. It also explains why the rangers cut the giant titanium machine in half like they did.
Andreaus began laughing her ass off, “bet they didn’t see that shit coming!”
The giant boss monster of a machine basically slid to pieces amid cool explosions.
Five more locations on the ground began to part ways, revealing their existences as doors, each with elevators. Each elevator had an occupant.
In the celestial expanse above Mars, within the colossal Powers of Punishment Angel, the antagonist, Seraphel, coldly executed Doctor Faust. As Faust met his demise, unexpected laughter echoed through the divine confines. The celestial blood of Faust, a potent concoction of power and malevolence, seared through the angelic hull, descending in rivulets toward the red planet below. Unfurling in the Martian atmosphere, the ethereal substance morphed into colossal keys, descending with ominous intent. The keys plummeted toward the military base, embedding themselves in various vehicles. Amidst his laughter, Doctor Faust cryptically revealed to the angels that their actions had unwittingly played into his hands, leaving an enigmatic and unsettling twist in the celestial drama unfolding above Mars.