Journey of One - An Archive

[troydenite]

So, if you were wondering, this is where I'll put all my Knight-related Walls of Text that will probably be relevant to his future development - both for personal reference and for the benefit of everyone else. I'm sure no-one wants to trawl through several thousand posts looking for the source of one obscure reference, after all.

Here.

Number One: Knight's introduction; arrival at the Rabbit Hatch

Somewhere...

It was one in the morning. Kids weren't supposed to be around at this time of night...

So what the hell was this guy doing in his garden?

Brent Baker, age fifty-four, looked at the young man who was currently trampling the petunias in a mixture of disbelief and indignation, trusty (and slightly worn) family automatic at his side. Despite the fact that he was balding, overweight and most definitely a horrible shot, the mere weight of the pistol in his hand was giving him an inordinate amount of self-confidence, especially with this guy.

Battered red coat, messy black hair, white T-shirt, pallid skin, wiry frame? He didn't look too dangerous, the stupidness of his get-out notwithstanding. Still, he had to get him out before Eleanor woke up.

"Oi, kid! What the hell are you doing in my garden?" he yelled, unconsciously echoing his prior thought.

Does he think it's Halloween or something?

The figure turned around, and the twin squares of framed plastic around his eyes gleamed in the moonlight, obscuring them from view. Involuntarily, Brent stepped back in surprise. He wasn't a kid... he was older than that. Twenty or something. And what was that chest in his hands?

"Don't shoot. Go back inside. It'll be easier that way." The voice was incredibly calm - almost lifeless in its tone. The voice of someone who knew what he was prepared to do and didn't care.

For a moment, the man considered putting down the gun and doing as he said – then he seemed to come to his senses, and leveled it straight at his chest. "Not going to happen, kid, " he growled, trying to hide the quivering tremor of unease in his words. This guy freaked him the hell out.

Mustering up an effort, he tried to inject some forcefulness into his next statement.

"I'm calling the police – let's see how they deal with you!"

A barely audible sigh. "I was afraid of that."

Boom.

An earsplitting bang, an explosion of pain in his right temple – then darkness.


Troy Knight T. (or just Knight, as it was nowadays) laid the man's unconscious form out on the ground. Before Brent had had sufficient time to process the leveled assertion, he had managed to clear the five meters in between them, force his would-be-prosecutor's hand up into the air while discharging the gun in it, and then knock him out with a single punch for good measure.

The faint sounds of hurried footsteps were echoing from the other side of the house. Lights were switching on. "Brent? Brent, what happened? Are you okay?"

That would be the wife. No time to waste, then.

Pulling a bulky cellphone from one of the pockets on the tattered, almost sleeveless coat on his back and placing the chest on the ground, the young man flipped it up and produced a strange plastic-looking key, one that had seemingly been prepared for this very moment, before inserting it into a golden keyhole above the phone's numberpad and twisting it once.

"Gokai Change." No fanfare. No confidence. No fancy moves. Just a simple, tired movement, one that had already been done to death a hundred times before.

GEEEEEEKIRENJA!

A flash of light, a hammy scream. The top half of the clamshell opened up into crossed cutlasses, and the black, stylized clawmark emblem of the Beast-Fist Squadron shot out from its strobing surface, before spinning towards his form. When the light cleared, he was changed.

His coat had vanished, as had his glasses and all other pieces of apparel on his person. Knight was now clad in a form-fitting blue spandex jumpsuit, with black, talon-like streaks curving around the sides of his suit and coming around to terminate at the front and the previously seen logo on his chest. A strange helmet was on his head, a glossy piece of full headgear with a tapering black visor, seemingly styled after a jaguar.

The one who now took the form of GekiBlue lifted an orange-black-gauntleted hand, tensing it into a firm, outstretched palm. A purple blaze burst into existence around his fingers, illuminating the area with flickering, ethereal light.

"Brent? What’s going on? Who was that?" The front door creaked, a faint sliver of light shining from behind it.

"Confrontation Beast Jellyfish-Fist Ringi:Jireppa."

As he swung his fingers down in a blade-like arc, the air itself seemed to tear and warp in their wake – then it split open into a massive, roaring fissure of purple light, and he was gone.

So was the chest.

---

Time and space were correlated things. Move one, influence the other. Shift both in just the right direction, and you would end up just about where you wanted to be.

He took a sharp left five minutes in. Shooting down through the expanse of the violet void, he focused the lingering Confrontation Ki in his body and willed the color to part, to create an opening for himself to pass through –

It complied, splitting open and depositing him in realspace once more. Gasping, he floundered in the overpowering rush of stimuli as it flooded his whole body - canned air, whiteness, light -, and for a moment he blanked out – then he came to his senses with a jerk and twisted suddenly, pivoting just in time to hit the ground in a perfect landing.

The rift closed behind him, and the suit dissipated in a flash of blue light, leaving Knight standing in his civilian clothes once more. Placing the chest on the ground, the Oriental youth pushed several stray strands of dry hair away from his face and looked around with emotionless, dark brown eyes.

White walls adorning a plain room, a round table in its center. The strange ease of movement told him that he was in a low-gravity environment.

The Rabbit Hatch. Just where he wanted to be.

---

[troydenite]

2. As a result of his battle with Kaixa and Etna onboard her ship, Knight is sent hurtling to Avatar's World.

---

EXCEED CHARGE!

A glowing net spread across the Ranger's back at the point of impact, locking his body in place. Turning his head with characteristic unhurriedness, Knight saw the blur shooting towards him like lightning, wreathed in a golden lance of light, and despite himself, the first motes of panic began to settle in his mind… then he blew them away with a clenched fist, and the cool, uncaring mask returned to his hidden features.

There was no place for fear in his heart. Not anymore. Fear was pointless.

Let him come.

Willing every fiber in his body to move, Knight tore his arms free of the energy mesh –

Better your chest than your hands. Better anything than your hands.

And then twisted to the side, taking the full force of the ramming punch to his chest and rolling backwards with the impact, suit throwing up a shower of sparks that fell behind him as he went. It was like someone had driven a pneumatic drill straight into his ribs and out the other side. It hurt. A lot. But he had faced a lot worse before, and come out alive.

This… was… nothing.

Landing in a controlled crouch, the man stood up, drawing himself to his full height. There was still that uncaringly detached air about him, as if Kaixa’s finisher had not even so much as scratched his suit. Turning slowly, he surveyed Etna and her newly-arrived mages, in seeming deliberation of something or other – then he fixed his gaze straight at the winged girl, and addressed the whole room in a quiet, unflinching voice.

“This is not over.”

“Accel Stop.” The very air seemed to warp around him, bending and folding in on itself to accommodate the vast shift in spatial perception and movement that had just rippled across his body – then he was gone in a trail of lingering red, having dashed off in a blur that none of them would be able to glimpse, much less react to.

Only when he was a safe distance away did he allow the pain to flood in.

---

One hand clutching his chest, Knight half-ran, half-stumbled across the deck of the frozen ship, all of which had been slowed to a near-motionless crawl by the properties of the Accel Stop suit modification.

Moving at impossible speeds meant that everything around you tended to look like a life-sized diorama, albeit an incredibly realistic one. Birds hung in the sky, unmoving. Specks of dust dotted the air like a thin film of rain, and lightly parted as he ran through them. Men and women stood, completely halted in the act of whatever they were doing at the moment. Even the air itself had slowed somewhat, and the very act of moving his legs felt like he were skimming them across the surface of a fast-moving air stream.

The piercing throb in his ribs had slowly grown to a sharp, stabbing pain, one that protested loudly every time he inhaled and rewarded every step he took with a jolt of nauseating agony. His breath was coming in shallow gasps, now. It was getting harder to run. Two, three fractured ribs, extensive bruising, possibly a torn muscle or two, maybe even some trauma to his lungs – in other situations, he would have used this speed boost to wreak havoc on his enemies, making a last attempt to take them out before his wounds overcame him. But his defiant stand had taken every last bit of his fleeting willpower out of him, and all that remained on his mind now was escape. He had to get off this ship.

Several seconds (or a number of excruciating minutes in his perception) before the remaining dregs of his speed ran out, Knight managed to reach the railings and jump over them into the open air below. As he fell, he produced another Key, inserting it into the Mobirates and turning it with the last of his strength -

GEEEEEKIRENJA!

The GekiBlue suit formed about him, fast even by his standards, and the world snapped back into sharp focus as time resumed its normal flow. Making a tiny incision in the air with his right hand, Knight watched as the expanse of the sea shot up to meet him, felt the salt air bruise his senses as it rushed through his helmet –

"Jireppa."

The rift weakly flickered into existence beneath him, and he fell through, feeling his consciousness starting to slip away from him even as the purple void filled his vision, roaring around him in an infinite, swirling expanse.

"Anywhere… just take me anywhere…" he croaked through dry lips, tasting the sharp, coppery tang of fresh blood as it spilled up from his lungs and into his mouth as he struggled to speak, useless though the gesture was.

"Somewhere safe…"

By some miracle, the void complied.

---

A portentous, muffled thump and a small explosion of sand. Something had landed right in front of Toph, falling from the sky and smashing into a small dune nearby at backbreaking velocity.

If the Earthbender (or anyone in the immediate vicinity, really) were to look inside the crumbling impact crater, they would see a pallid, bespectacled young Oriental man lying in the middle of it, dressed in a tattered red coat and a pair of tired-looking blue jeans. Blood was pouring from his mouth, and a large amount of the same fluid had pooled around his chest, staining his white T-shirt with a rapidly-growing patch of vivid red.

He was unconscious.

[troydenite]

3. Jan's first appearance in Sentai-space. Knight wakes to find himself in bed, and attempts to leave the house immediately.

---

“Hey. You. Guy with glasses. Wake up. Wake up.”

The insistent voice echoed in Knight’s head, and he opened his eyes, blearily raising them to regard the person currently standing above his prone form –

A young man only several years older than him, with a shock of wild brown hair on his head and bright, enthusiastic eyes that were currently focused intently on him in almost childish excitement. He was dressed in a red martial arts uniform, and although his manner was somewhat juvenile in its playfulness, there was a clear gleam of experienced wisdom somewhere in his eyes… somewhere being the key word. Knight could just make out a small logo on his shirt, a small, black, stylized series of claw-like scratches…

The pale adolescent’s eyes widened, and he sat up with a jolt – then he relaxed somewhat on seeing where he was, though a hint of guarded, almost exasperated wariness still remained in his poise and expression.

Here again. How wonderful.

All around him was a white expanse, stretching out as far as the eye could see, and filled with absolutely nothing except utter silence, and the two men. There was no air, or at least, there seemed to be none, given the complete lack of sensation whenever he took a breath – but then again, he could speak, couldn't he?

Maybe it was all thought.

This was the strange, ethereal space where the Sentai Legends’ spirits lived on, tethered in some inexplicable way to the real world by a combination of their living members, the Ranger Keys which had sealed away their powers and the young man who had inherited all of them.

"You're…"

The other man’s grin widened. "Jan. Kandou Jan."

"The Unbreakable Body of the Gekirangers."

"…" Knight remained impassive, gazing up at the martial artist in apathetic, brooding silence.

For his part, Jan was unfazed, continuing on with the same enthusiastic smile on his face. "You’ve been using Retsu’s powers lately, haven’t you? I saw it, just now when you were falling off the ship. I like the way you move – you’re really good at using the Ringi, you know that?"

Still no response.

A pause. “Anyway… I’m just here to tell you not to give up. We’ve seen everything you’ve gone through, and we’re all at your back - although I think Lord Shiba’s still a bit grumpy about all this. But that doesn’t matter. He’s a good guy, too.”

Pausing for a moment, the master of the Beast Fist stepped back, gazing off into the infinite horizon as if sighting some invisible event beyond it – then he turned back to Knight, and gave an encouraging nod.

“Through training and hard work, you can do anything!” he asserted. “So don’t just be shioshio all the time! Smile a bit more! Be nikiniki! There’s a lot to be happy for!”

“No matter what happens, you have to hold on and go through it, okay? Create your own way out of your problems - that’s what I learnt!” He was already fading from sight, as if his allotted time were running out, and even his voice was becoming nothing but a faint call, as if heard from a great distance. “Hold on and go through it!”

“There’s training in that, too!”

And then he was gone.

---

Ember Island

Knight’s eyes flickered open, and he blinked at the light streaming from somewhere above him – then he sat up slowly, rubbing his forehead and looking around.

No more pain. Had someone…

His gaze alighted on the man in the corner. And the girl, both of whom seemed rather dejected. The boy's scar was unmistakable.

… Avatar’s World. So, this was where he had ended up.

Getting out of the bed and to his feet, Knight pulled his coat back on his shoulders, ignoring the slight stains on his clothing – then he walked towards the door without a word, clearly meaning to make a quick and completely unnoticed exit.

His mind was still heavy with the weight of Jan’s words, light as they had been intended to sound. That talk had reawakened a lot of things that he had shoved away into the back of his head, most of which he'd rather forget again as soon as possible.

You know what I've been through. So why are you telling me to do the impossible?

The world felt a lot grayer than normal. And he was already tired of it all.

---

Elsewhere

"Do you think he'll be okay?" The question was in earnest, posed out of genuine concern.

Jan looked at the person sitting across from him. The child-like air had mostly departed from the pugilist now - there was no need to don it anymore, now that its intended recipient was no longer in front of him. All that remained was a charged aura of waiting enthusiasm and energy, though even that was beneath the surface.

"I think he'll be fine, Alata, " he replied. "Just give him time... and I think his good side will blossom into a great thing. He'll become the true Inheritor of our powers... no matter how unfitting he seems now, I suppose."

The Gosei Angel looked out the window of the sports company cafe and smiled, with a look of rekindled idealism in his young eyes. "You're right. You're the best one to talk to him - you're not as serious as some of the others, and you've been through a lot of the same stuff as he has - maybe you'll even be able to break through his walled-off heart some day. That's what makes humans so special, after all - their hearts. There's always a spark of good in them, even if you can't see it."

Jan nodded sagely. "That's why we fought, isn't it? To protect the planet and all the humans on it. It's his job, now..."

"I just hope he realizes it in time."

[troydenite]

4. Flashback to Knight's younger years - then he decides to go with Marvelous, and travels to Animal Crossing's World.

---

March 23rd.

If this was all he would have to put into his diary entry, perhaps he should leave it blank for today. The twelve-year-old boy sat in the small embankment overlooking the field, swinging his legs and watching as the various blonde-haired, freckled kids ran around him, kicking the school’s only soccer ball around the grass with the air of pint-sized professionals. It was lunchtime at Kereru Intermediate, and he was already feeling lost. There had never been anything like this back in Singapore. Here, they had two breaks, not just one 30 minute recess. No one could understand his accent, no matter how hard he tried to say the words properly. The food was weird, and expensive, and everyone ate snacks. They all played sports here, too, all the white boys, no Halo or COD or even WoW – just sports all day long, it seemed. It was another world.

So he sat down on this bench every lunchtime, and he watched them. It was just like spectating a game of FIFA – a photorealistic, life-sized game of FIFA, with no way to exit to the main menu and switch discs.

God, he hated sports.

Indeed, the boy’s dislike of physical activity was not without reason – while not overly pudgy or skinny, his physique was still that of a stereotypical bookish person, and a rather indolent one, too. Last month, his daily schedule had consisted of plonking himself down in front of his laptop and playing Minecraft for five hours straight right after school, and then surfing YouTube for about two hours after that. He had even managed to squeeze in the required time to learn Dwarf Fortress as a direct result of said addiction to 8-bit blocks.

200-year-old megafort, and still going, baby.

Needless to say, his glasses were very thick.

Given all these features, one might expect Troy T. to be an anti-social, insecure slob with no desire whatsoever to interact with real humans – but he wasn't any of those things, no matter what his classmates thought of him. There was a surprisingly innocent light in his eyes – one that just happened to be uncertain and shy, almost as if it wasn't a lack of social skills that was holding him back, but a lack of good conversation starters and a fear of trying.

But he didn't think about that much.

At least you're here for me, Black Condor, he thought, looking down at the toy in his hand with some comfort.

"So, what? Is that a Power Ranger or something?" The sudden inquisitive voice caught him off guard, and he spun around with a startled cry and fell off the bench, landing in an awkward heap on the grassy ground. Groaning, Troy got to his feet, dusting himself off with a grimace – then he recognized the person standing in front of him, and his expression turned into one of completely mortified, red-faced embarrassment.

Oh my God, it's a girl.

"Um… Joyce?" he squeaked, trying to obscure his thick accent and failing utterly. "Joyce, right?"

His bright-eyed Chinese classmate grinned and nodded, pointing at the figurine in his hand.

"Of course I'm Joyce, silly. What's that one? I haven't seen that one before."

It was remarkable, Troy noted, but her English had no trace of any Asiatic influence whatsoever. It was in a flawless Kiwi drawl, with all its weird inflections and odd slang. If only he had had enough time to learn this stuff, then maybe he would -

Concentrate.

"Uh...this… it's not a Power Ranger, ” he stuttered. “It's Japanese… they call it Super Sentai over there. It came first…" An awkward pause.

"I think they're really cool. Saving the world, and all that, " he admitted. He hoped he wasn't getting redder. Although he probably was, seeing as how he was proclaiming his love of a children's show to a virtual stranger... girl...

"Anyway, " he continued shakily, trying to push the ominous thoughts of social self-destruction out of his head, “this is Black Condor. He’s… he’s from Jetman. Choujin Sentai Jetman. They were the ones who came out just before the first Power Rangers.” A bashful, nervous smile. He passed the toy over. Joyce took it, turning the white arm up and down for a moment and staring at the shiny helmet in silence – then she grinned, and handed it back to him.

"That’s cool, " she said sincerely. "You’re new here, aren’t you?"

A slow nod.

“You sit down every day in class, and get all the answers right – and then you just walk out every day when the bell goes, without talking to anyone, ” she continued. “I wanted to see if you were alright – so I followed you. You seem nice…”

“Do… do you want to be friends?” It was her turn to blush now.

Troy blinked, trying to process the sudden question. Did she just…

She did.

"Yeah!" And then, for no reason whatsoever, he broke into the warmest smile the girl had ever seen in her life.

"I'd like that."

March 23rd, 2012. Today I made a friend.

---

Ember Island

Bathed in the orange light of the setting sun, Knight stood on the shoreline of the beach, looking off blankly into the distance, as if in recollection of some long-off event or another. Several minutes later, he stirred, looking down to see a brown twig by his soaked feet - then he nudged it into the ocean and watched in heavy silence as it swirled away on the tide, before dipping into the water and disappearing from sight. Turning slowly, the young man flipped out his Mobirates, dialed a single button and pressed it to his ear, with an expression that was once again devoid of any emotion, save that apathetic, bleak tiredness.

Friends. Hah. The past was gone, now. There was only the present. The dreary, gray present.

Several worlds away, Marvelous would hear a familiar ringtone.

"I’m coming, " the voice said bluntly. "But I’m not doing this for you."

"Goodbye." The line clicked. Bringing the cellphone away from his ear, Knight pulled the GekiBlue key from his pocket and took a step away from the lapping waves.

"Gokai Change."

---

Animal Crossing’s World - Nook’s Shop

There was a distinct hum, and a throbbing, electrical pulse - then the ceiling opened up right above Marvelous in a flash of purple light, and the blue-suited Ranger landed two feet to his left in a crouch.

Knight drew himself up to his full (and rather unimpressive) height, regarding the others in cold silence.

So, this was where he had ended up.

[troydenite]

5. Knight goes to RPM's World, encountering a Grongi. Meanwhile, in Gokaiger's World, a couple of familiar faces show up...

---

Gokaiger's World

"Okay, then. See you later!"

Stepping out onto the busy sidewalk outside the café, the nomadic kenpou teacher gave its angelic employee a friendly wave of farewell, before proceeding down the street and slipping straight back into the moving crowd. Carefree, Kandou Jan began to whistle a merry tune as he sauntered past the various busy people, all the while keeping a sharp eye out for any food stalls that might come past. He had a class in about an hour, yes – but that was still an hour in the future.

Right now, he could relax and enjoy the sounds of life. Peace was a good thing.

Maybe he would drop by at SCRTC later.

---

Several thousand miles away, where Japan and everything around it melted away into a blue-green orb suspended in nothing but inky blackness and the brightness of the stars, a red sail cut its way through the eternal night, moved by the hum of pulsing engines and leaving a trail of blue plasma in its wake. Serene and majestic, the Galleon's black flag hung motionless against the nebulous backdrop of space, displaying the universally feared double cutlasses of the legendary Space Pirates for all to see…

The ship's occupants were anything but serene. In fact, they were currently discussing something with unusual seriousness.

"Oi, Marvelous, are you sure we're supposed to be doing this? " the robotic, warbling avian voice inquired.

From her idle position on the couch, the beautiful, tomboyish, yellow-clad girl in the jeans and striped blouse nodded in agreement. "You know, I'm surprised I'm saying this, but I actually agree with Navi for once, " she said, fingering one of the ornate rings on her fingers as she spoke. "I know you're worried about the Keys disappearing and all, but why make a U-turn and head all the way to Earth to get them back? If those fancy dreams of yours really are true, the kid who has them isn't even on Earth!"

"Exactly, exactly!" The hovering burgundy parrot dipped several times in whole-hearted assent, before proceeding to zoom around the Captain's head in a rapidly accelerating circle. "See, see? Even Luka agrees with me! What'll you do, what'll you do, what'll you do?”

"Oh, be quiet, bird."

"I told you, don't call me bird!"

"Yeah. Whatever." Smirking good-naturedly, Captain Marvelous held up an unhurried, tanned hand, allowing the robotic bird to smash straight into it at high speed and fly off in the opposite direction entirely, before hitting the floor in a comical heap of molded feathers and slowly rolling to a stop, stars spinning around its head. In other times, this would have resulted in a prophecy, a Treasure Navigation, as it were – but there was no more treasure to be found, and so the parrot simply dropped straight into blessed unconsciousness after a few perfunctory mutters of disgruntlement.

With a satisfied huff, Marvelous turned to the others. "Well, do ya really think this is about the Keys?"

The former Red looked at the rest of his crew for a moment, smile still firmly plastered on his face. Every single one of the six members had fixed their gazes on the red-coated man, and none of them seemed overly concerned about Navi – except Gai, that was, who instantly attempted the difficult task of retrieving their navigator while sneaking past the watchful eyes of everyone else. Being Gai, it involved lots of overly dramatic gestures, and generally failed at being sneaky by any stretch of the imagination. The others pretended not to notice, and there was a long silence, punctuated only by the various creaks and muffled yelps as the only human in the group slammed into various expendable fragile objects.

"Think about it, " he continued. "The rest of the Keys are gone, if what those SPD folks told us is true. An' even then, they aren’t our responsibility any more – they’re their proper owners’ now.”

From the ship’s beeping computer, Don Dogoier looked back at their Captain with some concern on his gentle face.

"Is… is this about another threat, then? " he asked nervously. "Something that’s going to endanger Earth? We can’t do anything if we don’t have the Ranger Keys. "

"Dunno, Doc. Can we? " Marvelous seemed genuinely bemused by the question, and folded his arms. The other Gokaigers pondered this for a second, obviously unnerved by the answer.

Ahim was the next person to speak, her gentle, formal voice cutting clean through the silence like a refreshing, rose-tinted fragrance. "You do not know why we should come back to Earth, Captain? Is that true? "

Another voice broke in, clear in its stoicism. "Yes." That was Joe's only contribution, ensconced as he was in the chair at the corner of the room. Having been the first to join his crew, the leather-clad, almost perpetually serious ex-Zangyack elite knew Marvelous far better than any of them – and so they accepted it, settling down visibly and allowing the tension to flood out of the room. Diving triumphantly, Gai caught Navi's unconscious form with a victorious cry – then he promptly rolled into the dining table in an unceremonious crash, having overestimated the required distance by several meters in his haste.

As usual, the others ignored him. Marvelous gave a nod, before settling back against the wall with a relaxed sigh. “Well. I knew one of you'd get it eventually.”

"I don't know what's going to happen to the Earth – but I know that it's going to be important, and that we need to be there. You guys with me?"

The rest of the Gokaigers nodded as one, their confidence completely restored. "Always, " Joe said.

Getting to his feet, Gai gave a bleary thumbs-up, before falling over again.

Marvelous grinned. "Alright! Now, I'm hungry. Doc, I hope you've got something good for us…"

"And make it showy, will ya?"

---

RPM's World

It was never a matter of choice, he thought dismally. All this combat…

He could simply wash his hands of all of it, and step away. But he never did. In the end, he was still fighting… to protect some indefinable concept, some intangible idea that never made itself clear. Justice. Peace. Fairness. Love. What were they, and why should he care about them?

Maybe he was being selfish… but after all this, he guessed he had a right to be.

Arcing off the top of the building in a flash of blue and bounding off a shop sign with incredible agility, the one who now took the form of GekiBlue brought a single silver tonfa down towards the back of the Grasshopper Grongi's neck, the surface of the weapon burning with orange Ki that would amplify the concussive force of the blow a hundredfold and sear even the toughest of flammable materials to cinders.

Landing on the other side of the monster, Knight twirled in an elegant series of pugilistic maneuvers, before raising both weapons in a combat stance. His hidden eyes were strangely focused in their dullness, ready to fight despite all the intent to the contrary.

He might not have wanted it… but he was ready.

---

6. Accosted by another of the monster's kin, Knight is hit by a Rider Kick with the energy of a small-yield nuclear bomb, even as his opponent self-destructs in a two-kilometer dome of fire. The result... not pretty.

---

It was as if someone had shoved a caber straight through his chest and out the other side. A caber with menacing barbs all along its surface, that was, and one that also managed (somehow) to be on fire at the same time.

Feeling the sickening crunch as several of his ribs snapped like matchsticks before the nauseating sound even registered in his ears, Knight hurtled backwards through the air like some sort of giant blue-white floppy ragdoll, smashing straight through the nearest window (a convenience store display panel, in this case), into multiple crisp-filled racks, a drink cooler and then straight out the wall on the other side, creating a sizable impact crater in the red-bricked alley wall he had smashed into.

In a flash of blue light, his suit dissipated, leaving the mangled body of the Oriental youth in a tangled, red-coated, half-incoherent mess, peppered with bits of exploded Pringles packets and grey grit from the pavement. The Pepsi-Coke-blood mix pooling on the ground beneath him was most definitely not a good sign. Neither were the third-degree burns over almost every single inch of his body, with destroyed skin and black-red lesions showing both on his face and every patch of bare skin that the various holes in his clothing chose to reveal. Nor, for that matter was his bubbling, ragged breathing or the chipped spike of bloodied tendon and bone that now protruded where his left tibia had decided to ram itself right back through his elbow and (as a corollary) everything else in its way. His glasses had shattered, too, and now lay crushed beneath his weight, the pieces of sharp plastic digging into what remained of his back.

If he had been in a less durable form, he would most certainly be dead by now. As things stood, he was merely in mind-numbing, nerve-shredding, soul-crushing agony – and yet his vocal cords, fickle as they were, refused to work. They had already been ripped to ribbons by the excruciated screaming on the way here.

He would not get a chance to try again, for at that very second, the horizon lit up with an incoming wave of blazing light, scorching what little skin he had left with intolerable heat and filling his blurred, myopia-ridden vision with a blinding flash -

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. He was leaving now. He didn't know where. But that didn't matter either.

And so Knight closed his eyes in resigned, accepting finality, and fell towards death with nothing but one last thought in his dimming consciousness.

Mum... Dad... I'm sorry. Looks like I've been a waste of a son after all.

Goodbye.

[troydenite]

7. Switch to a flashback relating a childhood incident with Knight's mother, Rose - then back to the Sentai-space, where Knight finds out that he is apparently.... dead. Rio and Mele meet the youth, though Rio is less then impressed by him.

---

Monday, June 23rd, 2006. 11 pm. Nestled deep within an apartment block in the urban Tampines area of Singapore, a certain mother of two performed her last waking action of the day. The flat had never been the most fancy of places – but Rose Lim was fine with that. Home was here, and that was enough. Dressed in a pink nightgown and bathed in the dim light of her bedside lamp, the thirty-something American Chinese woman settled down under the sheets beside the snores of her slumbering husband, letting out a sleepy yawn as she prepared to close her eyes and get some well-deserved rest. It had been a tiring day, what with the usual task of minding the kids and the various chores around the house, and she was quite ready for sleep to take her in its arms. A solid eight hours would be just fine...

Unfortunately, the universe seemed to think differently, for just as she began to drift into the realm of dreams, several light, nervous raps came at the door - the characteristic knock of an anxious child. Sighing in a momentary burst of annoyance at the interruption despite herself, Rose pulled away the bedsheets with resigned finality and stepped out into the cold, wincing involuntarily as her bare feet met the biting, fan-chilled * white-tiled floor. She had decided against installing a carpet after buying the place, for obvious reasons – the oppressive humidity of the tropics invaded practically every nook and cranny on sunny days, which were plentiful, and using a readily absorbent material in such an environment would almost definitely prove to be more of a bane than a boon in the long run. Now, however, she almost regretted the decision. If there was anything she hated in this life, it was the cold.

Still, after several seconds of awkward shuffle-hopping across the floor, she finally reached the doorknob, and actually managed to clamp her shivering hand across its icy surface for the few seconds required to turn it. A creak. The white door opened by just a crack, enough for her to look down and see the faint outline of a small, timid figure poking its head around the doorframe.

“What?” she asked, a bit too sharply.

The five-year-old sniffled once, and pushed several strands of black hair out of his red eyes. “Mommy?” he whispered. “I had a bad dream. It was really scary. There were monsters…”

His voice trailed off, and he fell silent, obviously struggling with a new wave of tears.

Despite her tiredness, Rose still had the good sense to blink once or twice – then she knelt down and hugged the boy to her chest, planting a reassuring kiss on his salt-stained cheek.

“I’m sorry, darling. I’m just tired, that’s all. Don’t worry, the bad things can’t get you now. Mommy’s always going to be here for you, alright?”

After several minutes in the warmth of his mother’s embrace, Troy didn’t really feel like crying anymore.

“I love you, Mommy.” His muffled voice was meltingly innocent and completely sincere, in that special way that only children ever possess.

Rose smiled. “I love you too, dear, ” she whispered.

Sleep could be a million years away, for all she cared.

---

Knight’s eyes shot open, and he sat up with a strangled gasp. For an instant, he had almost felt… comfort…

Mother...

Then he closed his eyes, and slumped back down.

No. He couldn’t delude himself with any more wishful thoughts. The past was the past. Good memories would only uncover the things he wanted to forget – and so he would refasten the suffocating restraints on his mind, and let the thoughts slowly choke themselves to death. He had no choice.

It was only after a few seconds that he realized that he was still thinking. Shaking his head in a moment of genuine bewilderment, the pale youth scrambled to his feet, and looked all around himself.

White. Nothing but white. He was in that mindspace again, and yet somehow, things felt unidentifiably different…

It hit him. His clothes were clean. A downwards glance confirmed his suspicions – not a spot of grime or dust was on his person. His raven hair had been washed and slicked back. His snow-white shirt looked newly pressed, and smelled faintly of lavender. There were no more ragged holes in his jeans – or his coat, for that matter. For once, it looked as fresh as it had on its original wearer, adding a vivid splash of color to what was otherwise a pale, rather plain-looking set of attire. Of course, the fact that he could see meant that his glasses were still on, and rubbed to a shine, too.

It was a pity that he had no access to a mirror, for any sighted being would be able to pick out the drastic change in his appearance. Though the listlessness had returned to linger in his perpetually dimmed eyes, and no spark of confidence or even a desire for such had been injected into his slouched shoulders, something of a strange, hitherto unseen potential had been brought to light with the renewal of his clothing. This was someone who had once had the ability to care, the capacity to love and be loved in return. This was a person who could have been someone happy, someone normal, even someone great, had fate chosen differently – but it had not, and thus he had been shattered instead of strengthened. For in this cosmic game, those who could not travel down one path were left with no choice but to tumble down the other.

But he could not see that. Destiny always plays her hand discreetly.

Two sets of footsteps echoed in the emptiness of the void, and Knight turned instinctively, fixing the new figures with his customarily tired gaze. An Asiatic couple stood before him, one a long-haired, stern-looking man dressed in ornate, form-fitting black-gold leather armor and a magnificent fur-lined coat, the other a woman garbed in a green qipao, with her hair bound up at either side of her head into massive, green-plaited, forward-facing spirals.

"You… am I dead, then?"

Black Lion Rio looked at the young man in front of him, with no small hint of distaste in his eyes.

"Yes, " he replied curtly, in a brusque tone that made him sound like he would much rather be at his funeral than here, speaking to him. "Unfortunately, I have been… coerced to do something about that. Seeing you, however, I'm not exactly sure that I want to."

Knight said nothing.

[troydenite]

8. Rio continues his verbal beatdown of Knight, who, surprisingly, simply elects to take it. As he prepares to walk away, however, the Black Lion surprises him by telling him that he will bring him back to life as a RinRinShi - a reanimated, outwardly human corpse held together by the power of kung-fu. This makes him completely immune to the ravages of time, and allows him to survive without air, food or water - however, this comes at a price, which just so happens to be greater emotional detachment. Great. So, resurrected, our anti-hero wakes up in RPM's World completely intact, though it appears that he no longer has any need for glasses.

---

"Tell me. Do you know why I dislike you so much?"

The pugilist's brusque question shook Knight out of his blank reverie - but true to form, he said nothing in reply, simply lowering his gaze and keeping in that state of inscrutable apathy.

The woman beside Rio gave a disapproving tsk, and shook her head in a rather imperious manner. "I think you should say something, " she remarked. "We are your only chance at the moment, after all."

After what seemed like an eternity to the three, the youth stirred, before turning his tired gaze on the pair that stood before him. "...No, " he stated, in a voice that seemed resigned to whatever lay ahead. "Enlighten me."

The Black Lion took a step forwards, removing his arm from his lover's grasp.

"I thought not. Let me tell you, then. You wallow in the depths of your self-pity. You think yourself the only person to suffer in the whole cosmos, and so you sit down and do nothing with the powers that have been gifted to you. Do you really think that no-one has gone through anything as bad as you, that no-one can understand? Do you think that you can solve anything by refusing to fight for the things that you know are right, that you can somehow magic away the despair caused by your own mindset in your sickly inactivity? Just because you're 'tired?' You're a fool, and you have no right to inherit the legacy of JyuKen."

"GekiRed was much the same as you - and yet he taught me the true meaning of strength, and the power of friendship. He kept fighting, and in doing so, he redeemed us both. Compared to him... you have no excuse. Pathetic."

Knight had remained silent all the while, as if he were consciously allowing every harsh, verbal arrow loosed his way to stick in his flesh. Accepting them. He was not prepared, however, for the pugilist's next statement, which struck completely out of left field.

"You're still going back." Eyes half-widening in what was almost surprise, the youth looked at Rio, who seemed slightly amused by his reaction.

"I trust Kandou Jan's judgment, " he continued. "If he deems you to be worthy of a second chance, then I will give you that second chance, no matter how much of an idiotic decision I think it is." A small, knowing smirk.

"He was foolish enough to trust me, after all." Placing his black-gloved hand on the younger man's chest, the long-haired overlord channeled a masterfully controlled burst of Confrontation Ki through it, sending a wave of warmth throughout Knight's body. His expression was one of utter seriousness once more.

"I am sending you back as a RinRinShi. You will not have a stronger form, owing to your sad lack of originality in the Beast Arts - but the rest of its advantages are yours, if you can bear the loss of your humanness as a side effect. It is not true life. You will no longer feel the need to breathe, eat, or sleep. Blood will dry up in your veins. Age will leave you be." A smirk.

"I don't think the numbing of emotions will be much of a problem for you."

Knight glanced down at his chest. "...You're taking away my ability to feel?" His voice was subdued, as always.

Mele grasped Rio's arm once more, and gave the ex-overlord a loving glance. "No. He isn't. Think of it as... an added hurdle, of sorts."

The object of her affection, for his part, remained impassive. "Go, " he said, completely ignoring the woman clinging to his side. "I hope we never meet again."

"Grow a spine, and maybe I'll rethink my position." With that, he thrust his hand outwards in a firm push, and Knight felt his stomach lurch as he hurtled through time and space, into what the universe called reality...

---

In the middle of a crater somewhere in the depths of a destroyed city, Knight opened his eyes and stood up. His coat was still shredded. His shirt was still in a mess, and his glasses still lay broken at his feet - but that didn't matter. He could see.

Clutching his hands to his chest, the pallid youth began walking forwards, before opening a rift of purple light with a single, wordless movement and stepping inside.

...Why was it so cold?

[troydenite]

9. On the hunt for Decade, Knight stumbles across Griga in the Hat'ak, and manages to get the go-ahead after a tense confrontation with Roy Mustang. Realizing that the only way to get the information he seeks is to force it from him, he enters the Zora's mind...

---

As one might expect by now, the Zora's words elicited no reaction whatsoever from the pale youth; Roy's pat on the back was met with similar silence. Knight simply looked at the aquatic denizen for a few minutes, passively allowing the tension in the air to reach a slow, seething climax - then he pulled a Ranger Key from his coat pocket with unhurried abandon and slotted it straight into the waiting form of the Mobirates already poised in his left hand.

"Gokai Change."

GOOOOOOKAIJA!

Stepping forwards, Knight dusted off his red-clad, gold-striped shoulder and placed a single white-gloved hand to his belt buckle. A single thought, an inaudible summons that echoed in the hollow, insulated confines of his mind, calling to the depths of a small, gray chest several million miles and a incalculable number of universes away -

Nothing. No Ranger Key. Another press, this time slightly more forceful. Still nothing. ShinkenRed and ShinkenGold's Keys... both gone. For a moment, Knight almost felt like taking some time to ponder this setback - then the feeling disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and he settled back into the dull, dull clutches of monotony that had taken hold of him ever since that encounter in the afterlife.

It didn't matter. He didn't need those two, anyway. Any one of the Shinkengers' Keys would suffice. He just had to reach a little deeper...

Finally, the buckle flipped out successfully, depositing a blue Key into his hand. Raising it to chest height, Knight flipped out the figurine's top half and repeated the same, mechanical motion he had used just seconds before. The moment of indecisiveness, the realization of the error and the repetition of the action - all of it had taken place in the blink of an eye, and none of it had managed to break his apathetic composure.

SHIIIIIIIIINKENJA!!!! the announcer screamed, his voice echoing off the walls of the corridor and straight through the bars of the cell in all its glorious hamminess. Elegant in its simplicity, an angular seal shot from the opened top of the cellphone and spun towards the red-clad Ranger, molding around his form like flowing water...

Straightening slightly, the Inheritor of the Earth's Protectors stepped forwards, and the blue light that surrounded his form dissipated outwards like so many sweeping brushstrokes. He was now clad from head to toe in a blue suit that seemed to be styled after the traditional, ceremonial wear of the samurai, with a stylized 水 kanji serving as his round helmet's black visor. A golden belt with a disc-shaped buckle was around his waist, and various hints of white and black showed in his gloves, boots and neck. A gold-silver katana was hanging sheathless from said belt, secured only by a small, rectangular clasp on the side.

ShinkenBlue... Ikenami Ryuunosuke. That was what the original wielder of the sword would have said immediately afterwards, accompanied, no doubt, with the customary elaborate poses - but he was not Ikenami Ryuunosuke. He was Troy Knight... and so he remained silent.

Removing a slimmer, orange cellphone from his belt and folding it inwards with a single movement of his hand, Knight brought the Shodophone upwards and poised its black head away from him, as if to write something or other in the middle of the air.

"You will tell me where Decade is. Now." It was not a request. As he brought his hand forwards in a series of effortless, beautifully nuanced strokes, his brush trailed behind them with solid blue light, forming a single character in reverse - then he flicked it across in a decisive, final movement, and the kanji flipped around to present its true face to Griga's eyes, outlining itself in white as it did so.

真

Truth.

And as the word burst out into a torrent of warm, shimmering light, engulfing both Zora and human and sweeping the latter straight out of his own body and into the depths of the other's psyche, Knight realized something almost staggering in its irony.

He had no other thing on his mind.

[troydenite]

10. While in the depths of his opponent's mindscape, Knight is hit by a particularly powerful memory of his time with Joyce. Appropriate, really, given that Griga's absorbed both Link and Ganon in shard form.

---

“Zelda. This is Zelda, right?”

The voice shook Troy out of his game-induced reverie, and he turned from the shiny white-gold case in his hand to regard the girl pointing at the green-clad figure on its front, sword raised dramatically to the sky.

“What? No, idiot, it’s Link,” he said, with more than a touch of mock outrage in his voice. “Link. Not Zelda. Zelda’s the Princess, not the Hero.”

Joyce was having none of it, and she put her hands on her hips and shifted her stance in grinning defiance. “Then why is it called the Legend of Zelda, then? They could have named it after the main character, couldn’t they? Man, these companies are stupid.”

The boy seemed to take genuine offense at that last comment. “Hey, Nintendo isn’t stupid, Nintendo’s awesome! They couldn’t call it the Legend of Link, because Link is meant to represent the player, and that’s why he never talks! It’s the Legend of Zelda because that’s how it’s passed down the ages, and because she’s in almost every game! Princess Zelda’s awesome! Zelda’s awesome!”

And as if to conclude that overzealous tirade, he threw up his hands in excitement, narrowly missing the game rack by mere inches and sending the Skyward Sword case clattering to the ground.

“Whoops.”

Joyce rolled her eyes, though it was more of a good-natured gesture than anything else. She was all too aware of the various quirks of the strange boy she had befriended.

“Watch it, butterfingers,” she said, picking up the case and handing it back.
“Don’t get too excited there – wait, is he wearing a skirt?”

Troy flushed. “It’s not a skirt, it’s a tunic!" he protested. "The Hero’s Clothes! The stuff he’s always in!”

Once again, the girl refused to budge. “So, a skirt, then. I thought he would be manlier than that. Why do you like this series, anyway?”

“AGH!” Despite all her words, he was smiling, in that half-exasperated, half-amused way that was only ever reserved for the closest of friends.

Friends... just like Link and Zelda, perhaps?

Or was it something more?

---

-krak-

Knight was shaken back to reality by the snap of breaking ice. Looking around dazedly, he blinked, as if trying to ascertain his surroundings - then he finally seemed to remember where he was, and his gaze went back down.

That memory... it had struck him without warning. Was it his own Mojikara? For a moment, he had almost thought...

No. He had thought nothing. There was nothing. She was gone now. He would never see her again, nor would he try to. They were separated by too wide a gap. Joyce Lin was a thing of the past... at least, that was what he was desperately trying to believe.

He knew it wasn't working. And yet he pressed on. Ignoring it.

"...No," he said, finally responding to Griga's mind-voice. "Tell me where Decade is."

The Gokai Saber gleamed as he leveled it in front of him, and he scanned the air in front of him, hunting for the unseen enemy.

"You cannot hide. Not here. Tell me, or I will wring the truth out of you."

[troydenite]

11. The battle concluded, Knight prepares to gain the information he seeks - but he is thwarted by Griga's last-minute refusal, and is sent back to the real world in bitter defeat. After spending several minutes in brooding, he decides to carry on, and heads to the tavern on Linkara's World.

---

He only had a few seconds to process the Zora’s last words. A few seconds, of course, was far too short a time.

“No!" he snarled. "NO!”

Eyes widening in a display of alarm and violent, unthinking anger, Knight leapt forwards and frantically grasped at Griga’s fading form with clawed fingers, as if he could keep him from disappearing with the sheer force of his desperation alone. Of course (as he himself well knew), this had no chance in hell of working, and the RinRinShi soon found himself clutching at nothing but thin air as the first dregs of cold water began to fall from above and pool around his kneeling form.

In any other circumstance, his face would have betrayed nothing. Now, it was laden with an expression of utter despair. The rumble from above grew into a deep, mocking roar.

“…You still haven’t told me the truth!” he screamed, his hoarse, half-mad voice almost drowned out by the rushing clamor of the incoming wave of ice and water. “You haven’t told me the truth!”

Firescreamsdeathjourneyeverlastingalonealonealone

With a wince-inducing crunch, Knight slammed his fists on the ground, before raising his head skywards, not caring in the least for the blinding spray that was shooting all across his face and drenching his body.

“YOU HAVEN’T –“

His anguished cry went unfinished, for at that moment, a momentous crash reverberated through his skull, far louder than even the roar that had preceded it, and his entire body smashed into the ground like a doll sent flying by a sudden peal of thunder from above. Water swept down through his airways and into his lungs, rendering him quite unable to make any sound, as much as he might have tried to. He did not feel the sting as it forced through his sinuses. The immense force of the liquid hammer had struck him on the full, crushing him flat against the ground before swirling up in a tumultuous din and sweeping him through the mindscape, completely unconscious.

Darkness.

---

He opened his eyes to see the cold floor of the Hat’ak prison block staring him in the face. For a moment, Knight looked around dazedly, as if unaware of his surroundings – then he closed his eyes and slumped to the ground, unkempt strands of black hair falling over his eyes and teeth gritted in a rare display of deep, aching pain.

He would not find Decade. This was all pointless. He had lost the trail again. All those years, spent searching… and now he would have to go through every single one of them again. World by world, piece by piece, person by person, lead by short, painful lead. He had lost it.

What was the point? He didn’t know anymore.

It was a long time before he mustered the strength and the coherence to stand, and even then it was with great reluctance.

There was almost no chance of him getting close to his target again. Not like today. He knew that. But there was nothing else for him to do. He no longer fit anywhere, and even if he did settle down on some backwater world, away from every reminder of his past life, the burning desire to know would torment him until he heeded its call.

And so, he would spend this un-life searching. He had all the time in the world, after all. He would find answers….

If they lay in his own death, so be it. He didn’t really care anymore. Let the worlds go by, then, moving without him. It didn’t matter. It might even be something of a relief, having that off his back. Eternal rest…

A single mental command, accompanied with the faint, almost imperceptible movement of a finger. A brief, fleeting whisper, by now nothing but a customary gesture. The air opened up with an inviting hum.

Looking into the depths of the welling gash of purple light, Knight readjusted his loosely hanging coat to an even more loosely hung position, rearranged his features into that familiar mask of detached stoicism and stepped forwards, allowing himself to fall into the void once more.

So it began again, he thought, with no small hint of bitter irony. Once more, his Journey through the Multiverse…

Nearest world. Sharp left, two rights.

---

Linkara’s World


The tavern had another guest. Like clockwork, a pulsing, throbbing hum began to beat above the heads of two bickering drinkers, who paused and raised their cowboy-hatted heads towards the ceiling in a momentary, confused truce – then it tore open in a flash of violet, and a single red-coated youth smashed straight into the middle of the table in a perfect crouch, upending their tankards of beer straight into their faces and sending both patrons sprawling to the ground in spluttering, white-faced shock.

After looking at each of them in completely nonchalant silence, the boy hopped off the table and began walking towards the bar, tired eyes only flicking around to survey the area and silence any open-mouthed person who might be looking his way. The pallor of his skin contrasted horribly with the glow of the place, as did his unkempt black hair, worn, patched clothes and thin frame – but no-one was going to comment on that now. As it was, he didn’t really seem to notice the alcohol currently soaking his sneakers, and if he did, he probably didn’t care.

Coming up to the bar besides Fusion, Knight took a seat and gazed blankly at the air in front of him.

He was making no attempt to speak to anyone.

[troydenite]

For posterity and general awesomeness! Here is a commissioned picture of Knight, from the esteemed pencil of the eminent biomechtraveler! Enjoy!

www.mediafire.com/view/?gpzyankkvgpmzku