Try as she might, Nicole couldn’t stop thinking about the death and destruction left in the wake of the Sylan attack. She’d been out there for more than an hour after the battle ended, helping the first responders where she could. Her lack of training was only offset by her ability to pry people out from under heavy things and follow instructions clearly.
By the time the Renfaire was secure the sun was beginning to set and Nicole was dead on her feet despite the energy coursing through her like a live wire. Her team met up near one of the undamaged stalls before one of the firefighters directed them backstage and into an employee rest area. Nicole tried to ignore the blood splatters on the door, now dried and darkened.
Inside it was clear that it was hastily abandoned, with cups and plates strewn about haphazardly. Once the Rangers were inside, the man gave them a polite nod and closed the door behind them. The Purple Ranger locked the door and nearly sank to the floor with a heavy sigh. Green and Silver walked off, hopefully checking the rooms down the hall while Nicole busied herself with closing the blinds.
The last thing they needed was to have their identities exposed through carelessness.
When the last window darkened, a flash of red shone, and prismatic shapes fell away from Grace who now stood in her Renfaire attire once more. She smiled as she looked down at the axe in her hand before setting it aside.
“Thank God, I did not want to lose that,” she said.
Green leaned forward, and it gave Nicole the impression of an impish girl up to something. “How did you do that?”
“I just thought about going back to normal,” Grace answered.
Considering that, Nicole thought of her Ranger uniform falling away. At first it did nothing, so she tried thinking harder, putting real intent to the thought. Her protective shell burst, shattering much as Grace’s had, though the color was an inverse of light that defied what she knew of physics. She looked down at the daggers she held before returning them to the sheathes along her hips.
That was when she noticed the watch that now sat on her wrist, the straps set over her bracers. The body of it looked like any other smart watch, but a band of black traced the face of it that seemed to almost absorb the light. A quick glance at Grace showed she too was looking at a watch on her wrist, this one sporting a red band. With a sigh, Nicole moved a hand to her face, the habit of adjusting her glasses when antsy long established, only they weren’t there.
She’d lost them in the battle, yet they hadn’t returned following her transformation back into plain old Nicole. More surprising, she realized she no longer needed them at all. Well, that would save her money on contacts, if nothing else, not that she really wore them given how itchy they got after a few hours.
Green prisms were followed by silver and purple in short order and soon five strangers stood together in a dim room with the weight of the day hanging between them. Where did one even begin in such a situation? The slaughter they had witnessed was one of the most horrific events Nicole ever imagined, and she’d seen plenty of footage from Sylan attacks in the past.
“Okay, this is just sad,” Grace said, taking her tricorne off to set it aside. “If we’re going to be a team, someone’s going to have to kick this off. Hi, I’m Grace Evans, and I suppose I’m the Red Ranger.”
“You’re not native American, are you?” the Hispanic girl dressed as a Druid asked with a smirk.
Nicole snorted, drawing attention to herself that made her want to shrink back into the background. She hated how unsure of herself she could be, but that was just how things had ended up. If nothing else, she could get this over with and let someone else quickly fill the spotlight.
“Nicole, and as you can see, I’m not quite dark enough to qualify as black.”
Her mother had been half Mexican, and her father was the palest Irishman you could ever meet. Not that her mother’s heritage was immediately apparent given how her own red hair and freckles stood out against skin that never tanned no matter how much sun she got. That was, of course, the joke.
The guy dressed as a Paladin groaned as the obvious jokes were thrown around. “Yeah, it could have been me. Devon Smith, Silver Ranger.”
Yeah, that would have been unfortunate, given he had one of the darker shades of skin that she had seen in her life. He kept his hair buzzed short and had a jawline deserving of the classical armor he wore.
“Ha! Silver linings!” the black-haired Druid said, pulling out a joint before she lit up. “Kayla Beckham. Rather fitting that the hippie ended up the Green Ranger, I suppose.”
A few chuckles were had before everyone turned to the last member of their little group. He was thin and wiry, with lean muscle visible under his stereotypical Dragoon armor. With the helmet set aside, his brown hair flowed down past his shoulders as he looked back and forth between everyone, still pale from their earlier battle.
“Jeff Cunningham. I guess that the powers that be decided I should be purple.”
Grace smiled. “I’m sure your armor had nothing to do with it.”
Sure enough, his armor had metallic cobalt accents to offset the deep purple. It was probably a bit of a crap shoot which color the disembodied voice decided to give him. Apparently purple won out. Speaking of Jeff, she thought he looked familiar, but not in any obvious way. Maybe she had seen him out and about somewhere and his face just stuck out?
“Well, with introductions out of the way,” Devon said, stepping into the center of the room. “What comes next? I don’t think any of us are actually all that experienced in this sort of thing.”
“That’s an understatement,” Nicole muttered.
Devon glared at her for a moment and she wanted to shrink back, her tongue often got her in trouble and never in a fun way.
“I imagine either we reach out to another Ranger team, or they’ll reach out to us,” Kayla said, pinching the tip of her joint between two fingers before putting it away. “I can’t see so many teams existing without there being some form of communication between them, especially for larger scale attacks.”
She had a point. New York had three such teams, and it was no secret that they had some centralized system of coordinating their response between them when the Sylan attacked. Idly, she rubbed the watch now on her wrist, there was a temptation to see exactly what the new device did, but also no small amount of trepidation at messing with the unknown.
Curiosity won out as she removed her belt and set it aside then began to fiddle with the watch. It seemed to be like any other smartwatch upon first glance at the app screen, but there was one icon that stood out. Tapping it, an option menu was shown before instructions popped up above it. Sure enough, that was the morpher function, and it even had a quick launch feature.
She closed out the app, trying to think of the best way to phrase it before an idea came to mind. With a smirk plastered on her face, Nicole pressed the two buttons along the side.
“Roll the Dice.”
Her watch glowed, and swirling black light engulfed her for the briefest moment before she felt the power swell within her once again. A subtle burn tore through her body, taking the weariness of her limbs with it. She wasn’t sure what that was about, but it faded quickly enough that she didn’t think it was something worth dwelling on.
The others all turned to face her and were staring as she checked for her new weapons and found them to be exactly as they had once been when she first transformed. More importantly, her custom blades were still sitting on the table nearby.
“That answers that,” Nicole said. “Our equipment is locked in after that first morph.”
“Good to know,” Grace said, setting her own axe aside. “Now, how did you do that?”
“And please tell me we don’t need to say that each time,” Jeff added with a chuckle. “Fitting as that phrase is, we might not always have time to shout it when things hit the fan.”
“Phrase is optional,” Nicole said. “There’s an app in there that has instructions. You can morph in a pinch by double tapping both physical buttons on the watch, or hold them and say a phrase like I did.”
“Roll the Dice,” Grace said, and a flash of red with literal D20’s dancing within engulfed her and the Red Ranger stood there once again.
Kayla whistled. “Never mind, roll the dice is a good phrase if it comes with those effects.”
“I retract my statement,” Jeff said, checking his own watch. “With how flashy that is we’ll need to be careful about transforming.”
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Devon shrugged. “We could just go public.”
“I vote no,” Nicole cut in. “Just look at the Sacramento California team that unmasked. The government all but conscripted them.”
“That’s a good point,” Kayla said. “Fuck that noise. If it wasn’t for the literal invaders at the gates I’d be advocating for full on anarchy.”
“Alright, we keep our identities quiet,” Devon agreed, albeit reluctantly. Nicole narrowed her eyes at the man but kept her tongue held. “We should all exchange numbers, even if the watches can reach each of us, it’s better to have the option.”
“Works for me,” Grace said, then wrote her number down on a sheet of paper which everyone was quick to add their own to. Grace reached for her belt only to pause and laugh. Her transformation shattered as she reached again for a pouch where her phone was stored. She stared at it for a moment with a growing frown. “Shit, my phone’s dead.”
Everyone was quick to check their own devices, Nicole stepped over to the belt she had taken off earlier and retrieved her own from the pouch she kept it in before letting her transformation fall away once more. Sure enough, the device was dead as could be.
“That’s a problem,” Kayla muttered. “Don’t suppose these watches come with a contacts function… Oh shit, they do!”
“Then we will make do,” Devon said.
Everyone was quick to enter their team’s information, and that was that.
Once finished, Grace looked towards the locked door. “We should probably think about leaving soon before the media arrives and asks too many questions about why a group of larpers that are dressed suspiciously like the new Rangers is hanging around together.”
“I like that plan,” Jeff said, setting his helmet back on his head, hiding most of his face. “Want me to peek out and see if the coast is clear?”
“Good call,” Devon said. “Let’s all get home, decompress, then meet up again in a day or two, barring another attack of course.”
A round of agreement followed and once the coast was clear, they slipped out of the building and through one of the employee-only paths. The same firefighter from earlier was rather pointedly not watching them depart. Thankfully a group of costumed people wasn’t too out of place at a Renfaire, but they didn’t take chances until they were well away from the emergency crews. Nicole had kept both fingers on her watch, just to be safe, but it hadn’t been needed.
Just as the parking area came into sight, Grace pulled away. “Mind if I go check on my friends? I’m worried about them.”
“Oh right! You’re a vendor,” Jeff said with a snap of his fingers. “I should probably go back as well, see if my jousting partner made it out. Ken and I got separated early on and I need to see if the big lug made it out.”
Nicole bit her lip as she watched the two double back down the path, a part of her wanting to reach out to the woman that had crafted her blades then fought alongside her. Yet, the introvert within kept her from doing so. That just left her with Kayla and Devon, two people she hadn’t gotten to know well enough yet to hold a proper conversation.
“Anyone need a ride?” Devon asked, eyes darting back and forth between the two women and the rather chaotic scene down in the parking area.
The field was a mess of activity, between people trying to flee and the emergency crews that were continuing to arrive. A dedicated exit lane had been cleared to get anyone able bodied away from the scene. One of the Renfaire workers was directing traffic away, paying those filtering out little mind.
“I do,” Kayla said. “I rode one of the shuttles in, and don’t own a car otherwise.”
“I rode my motorcycle,” Nicole added when Devon looked her way. “I’ll be fine getting back to my dorm.”
“Ride safe,” Devon said, slapping a firm hand on her shoulder. “It’s going to be a nightmare out there after the attack.”
Nicole barely avoided flinching at the contact, she had never liked being touched by men in general. She turned and waved a bit before making her way across the parking area to where her bike was, leaving the other Rangers behind her. It felt a bit weird to split up after what they had just gone through, but sticking together wasn’t really an option.
Her bike was right where she left it, and she took a moment to just breathe. So much death, and for what? Nicole’s hands trembled, but she retrieved her helmet and put it on, the motorcycle variant feeling restricted compared to her Ranger helm. A breathless chuckle escaped as she leaned forward, resting her head on the handles.
“Look at you, barely holding yourself together,” she whispered. “This is such a fucking mess. Like, in what universe am I worthy of Power?”
It wasn’t like she expected an answer, and instead simply fired up her bike and joined the departing vehicles. Nicole knew exactly how dangerous motorcycles could be, which was why she rode them. As she pulled out onto the highway, she caught a glimpse of Kayla waving from the passenger window of a black pickup truck. She nodded her helmet to acknowledge her, then peeled out down the highway, ignoring all traffic laws in some dare to the universe to finally bring her time on earth to an end.
It wasn’t as if there would be police out and about to stop her or anyone else from being reckless, and she was confident she could evade them if there were.
Even ignoring speed limits, the drive home still took over half an hour due to backed up traffic keeping her from effectively weaving through. It gave her far too much time to dwell on what she had seen, her thoughts drifting from one bloodied body to the next. Visions of the dead haunted her the entire way back home.
The parking for her dorm was half empty, which was a bit of a surprise given the late hour, she expected it to be a hive of activity. Anoka wasn’t a large city, unlike downtown Minneapolis, but there was still plenty to do. Given the recent attack, she was a bit surprised at how calm things were.
She meandered her way through the halls and found her room, opening it almost absently. She barely remembered the ride back, so consuming were her thoughts. When she stepped inside, the lights were off and it looked like Rebecca was still out and about. She hoped she was alright, but she was at least with Colin and was supposed to be far from the Renfaire. Would Becca and Colin have made it out if they hadn’t canceled their plans with her for the day?
Nicole flopped onto the couch and just let herself zone out, an almost haze settling on her as she laid in the darkness, the silence ringing in her ears along with the ghostly echoes of the dead screaming in terror. Visions of blood and death, of callous machines cutting down innocents filled her mind.
Pressure on her shoulder had Nicole pushing up in a burst of motion, hand dropping to her blade as everything snapped back into focus. A blonde haired girl stepped back hastily, hands up in the air.
“Easy, Nikki,” she said quickly.
Nicole blinked, the girl’s thin lips and brown eyes coming into focus. It took a moment, the flashes of violence fading away in favor of reality before she finally recognized her roommate. “Becca?”
“You back with us?” Rebecca asked hesitantly. “I tried to call, but it just went to voicemail…”
Nicole sat up, a low groan escaping as her stiff joints protested the movement. Sleeping in her gear might have made sense when camping to give it that authentic look, but it didn’t lend itself to comfort in the slightest. She pulled her phone from its pouch and pressed the power button. Nothing.
“Oh right, it’s dead,” Nicole muttered with a frown, trying to think of an excuse for why it wasn’t working that didn’t involve the rangers. “No idea why since I charged it before I left.”
The lack of any remaining charge could have been anything from the Sylan to the morph itself. She hopped to her feet and hurried over to the kitchenette and found a spare charger, relief flooded her when a charging symbol appeared on the screen. It was drained, not bricked. Maybe the morph must have siphoned it in some way? Sighing, she opened the fridge, fishing for something to drink.
“Did you leave before the attack?” Rebecca asked, taking a seat on their little love seat and flicking the TV on, quickly finding a news station covering the Renaissance Faire massacre and the appearance of a new Ranger team. They were so focused on the new Rangers that they weren’t giving the victims the respect due.
Nicole paused, water bottle in hand. “No, I was in the thick of it when the bastards arrived.”
“Oh fuck!” Rebecca exclaimed, jumping back to her feet and rushing over but stopped short of pulling her into a hug. “You’re lucky as hell. Preliminary estimates have the death toll at nearly two thousand.”
The yawning pit in Nicole’s stomach plummeted further. So many were dead, and all anyone had to show for it was a shiny new Ranger team, one of almost three dozen in the nation. Something special, but far from unique. A stopgap in the face of a slow march to subjugation.
Rebecca’s face fell as Nicole hunched in on herself. “The news is censoring it, but you saw it all first hand, didn’t you?” Nicole nodded mutely. “Shit, are you alright? Is that why your glasses are missing?”
“I watched a man get bisected,” Nicole said after a moment, the scene replaying vividly in her mind. “I watched machines tear through dozens as if their lives didn’t matter…”
“That couldn’t have been easy,” Rebecca said, stepping closer, hesitantly. “Do you need a hug?”
Nicole didn’t hesitate, lunging forward and wrapping her arms around her roommate. They were practically sisters, what with Becca’s family effectively fostering her after her parents died. Rebecca was the one person in the world that Nicole worried about disappointing. That thought alone always pained her, now more than ever. Nicole was afraid of dying and leaving Becca to grieve her, even as she craved the release it would bring. Nicole sobbed, letting every emotion she had endured out in a torrent.
All the pain, all the death.
She was just so goddamn tired of everything.
Rest wasn’t an option, not anymore. She was a Ranger, someone expected to stand strong in the face of the endless tide of invading machines. Worse, now that the city had a team of Rangers, the attacks would become more frequent, almost weekly if the other cities were any indication.
She knew from interviews that many of the Rangers enjoyed the fighting, but Nicole certainly hadn’t. Sure, there was a rush that accompanied the sudden power at her fingertips, a power that hadn’t completely receded. She was forever changed, not quite the same anymore, but it hadn’t done anything to help in the way that she needed.
“Hey,” Rebecca said, pulling away slightly. “Why don’t you let me order some pizza, and we dig into the cookie dough ice cream while watching something mindless, see if that helps?”
Nicole snorted, snot shooting from her nose as she did. That did sound like a good plan in light of everything she had been through. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Rebecca enough to tell her about becoming a Ranger, but did she want to burden her with that knowledge right away? When Nicole offered to share a dorm with Rebecca, her friend was extremely hesitant at first, but she liked the idea of getting stuck with a stranger even less.
Rebecca wasn’t the worst person to live with, and she didn’t bring any strangers home with her, thank goodness. Nicole didn’t fancy the idea of some drunk frat boy trashing their dorm, and Becca seemed to be of a similar mind about it, even if she was a bit of a party animal. It helped that she’d been in a steady relationship for a few years now.
“Just don’t put any damn olives on the pizza and you’ve got a deal,” Nicole said, forcing a smile.
She wasn’t better, but at least she wouldn’t be alone.