- Oliver -

  General Stewart gestured toward the hovering holographic images that filled the briefing chamber—strategic maps, intelligence dossiers, and the ominous emblem of the Children of the Past: a stylized hourgss.

  "You are to infiltrate the organization known as the Children of the Past and eliminate their leader," Stewart decred, his voice firm and unwavering.

  Oliver felt a chill run down his spine. ‘See you soon…’ The cryptic message he'd received earlier echoed in his mind. ‘Do the Children of the Past know about this mission?’ The possibility unsettled him profoundly. Revealing his suspicions wasn't an option— unless he wanted to become a target of an Imperial investigation. ‘And they might even discover that I'm the Green Ranger,’ he thought grimly.

  "All of you will undergo the same curriculum," Stewart continued, his gaze piercing each operative in the room. "At the end, you'll each apply to join the Children of the Past, inserting as many infiltrators as possible into their ranks."

  As the holographic dispys flickered off, all attention returned to the General, the weight of the mission settling heavily upon them.

  "You will soon receive the training curriculum," Stewart announced, his tone brooking no nonsense. "But let me make this clear: it won't be easy. Despite having several months, we'll be employing the accelerated training pace of the Sixth Division."

  He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "We're sharing this mission with other divisions to gather a diverse array of profiles. We still don't fully understand how the Children of the Past select their candidates."

  ‘So they don't expect much from us,’ Oliver mused, striving to maintain a neutral expression. The underlying message was clear—the Sixth Division considered themselves the better, and this colboration was a reluctant concession.

  "Over the next month," Stewart pressed on, "you will progress through three levels of training."

  He began pacing methodically across the front of the room, hands csped behind his back. "Firstly: Basic Infiltration Training. You'll master surveilnce detection, countersurveilnce, elicitation techniques, and covert communication."

  "Secondly: Psychological Conditioning. This will include resisting interrogation, handling high-stress situations, and developing emotional resilience."

  "Finally, by the end of the third month, you'll complete foundational training in Cyber Intelligence—hacking, digital espionage, and counterintelligence tactics."

  Stewart's gaze swept over them, his expression unreadable. "Those who meet our standards after this phase will undergo advanced training. Those who do not will be withdrawn from the mission and returned to your divisions for reassignment."

  ‘I could just mess up the training and force a rejection… but that could make things difficult on the Blue Division’. Oliver thought, trying to think of a way to avoid being in the middle of the Children of The Past and the Empire.

  "For those who continue," Stewart continued, "the training will intensify. We'll focus on Disguise and Identity Manipution—learning to assume different identities and avoid detection."

  "Then, Dead Drops and Secure Communication—methods for passing information without detection."

  "And finally, Cultural Immersion—learning to blend into different societies and behave like a local."

  Stewart stopped pacing and fixed on them with a steely gaze. "With this training, we expect you will be able to use new identities to infiltrate the organization and successfully take out the target."

  At that moment, Oliver felt a subtle vibration on his Gauntlet. Gncing down, a new notification blinked into existence on the holographic dispy:

  | Sixth Division Curriculum Uploaded

  ‘Doesn't seem too tough,’ Oliver thought, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "With [Insight] and [Left Eye of Learning], mastering this should be a breeze—as long as I don't roll a bad result."

  "But don't think that just because you'll be delving into these subjects, you'll be exempt from physical training," General Stewart interjected, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "In the afternoons, you'll engage in rigorous exercises and combat drills to sharpen you for any scenario."

  Stewart rose from his chair with practiced precision, his uniform immacute as he moved toward the door. "In fact, that's exactly what we're about to begin. Follow me."

  Oliver was the first to stand, falling into step after the General. They descended a wide, metallic staircase to the fortress's second level.

  When Oliver entered one of the expansive training rooms, he noted the familiarity of the setting. The space was reminiscent of the facilities he'd seen in Pals. Thick, reinforced walls loomed around them, embedded with energy dampeners to absorb bsts or impacts. Advanced training equipment was strategically pced throughout the room.

  However, General Stewart went past each piece of equipment, heading directly toward the central arena.

  "I'll personally oversee your assessment," Stewart announced, stepping into the arena with a commanding presence. "The task is simple: survive five minutes against me without using your armors. Remember, you'll be infiltrating an organization that doesn't have access to Z Crystals, so reliance on them will not be an option."

  Oliver's attention sharpened. The prospect of facing the General himself was both intimidating and thrilling.

  Stewart's gaze swept over the assembled rangers, his eyes like steel. "Let's start with someone who might give me a bit more of a challenge," he muttered, a hint of anticipation in his tone. He pointed to one of the Rangers standing beside Oliver.

  For the first time, Oliver turned his full attention to the person next to him.

  The Ranger was an imposing figure, nearly a head taller than Oliver. Though they were likely of simir age—perhaps in their early sixteens—there was a gravitas about him that set him apart, a maturity beyond his years. His dark skin was complemented by a neatly trimmed beard that traced along his strong jawline. Eyes sharp and focused gazed ahead with unwavering resolve, and his strides were measured, exuding confidence.

  His uniform differed notably from Oliver's own, which bore the emblem of the NEA (New Earth Army). Instead, this Ranger's attire was adorned with the crest of the Empire.

  "Is he from the Sixth Division?" Oliver pondered silently. It would expin the difference between uniforms and the general's particur interest in him.

  "Come on, Darius. Show me what you've been training," General Stewart taunted, beckoning his opponent with both hands. His eyes gleamed with a mix of challenge and anticipation as he stood in the center of the arena.

  "Yes, sir!" Darius responded promptly, his raspy voice echoing slightly in the vast training hall. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, muscles coiled like a predator ready to strike.

  Stewart casually rolled up the sleeves of his uniform to his elbows, revealing forearms corded with sinewy strength. The fabric slid smoothly, granting him greater mobility. The air between the two men crackled with tension, an unspoken acknowledgment of the skill each possessed.

  Without any formal signal, Darius lunged into action. He unleashed a barrage of ferocious punches aimed straight at the General. Stewart moved with uncanny agility, evading and redirecting each strike with minimal effort. To him, Darius's attacks seemed little more than gusts of wind—predictable and harmless.

  From the sidelines, Oliver watched intently. The other trainees stood alongside him, their gazes fixed on the two combatants. Darius's frustration was palpable; his attacks grew wilder, his swings wider as he poured more power into each blow.

  ‘The General is going to counterattack any moment now,’ Oliver thought, recognizing the signs of Darius overextending himself.

  Yet, Stewart remained purely defensive, his expression calm and unruffled. He shifted his weight subtly, his feet gliding over the mat with practiced ease. It was as if he was waiting for something.

  ‘Is this a trap?’ Oliver wondered, his eyes narrowing. ‘Why isn't he striking back?’

  Just then, Stewart pnted his front foot firmly, his posture hinting at an imminent offensive move. Sensing danger, Darius halted his advance and raised his arms in a tight guard, bracing for the anticipated assault. But the expected punch didn't come.

  In a blur of motion almost too fast to track, Stewart executed a fwless vertical heel kick. His leg sliced through the air like a guillotine, descending upon Darius with devastating precision. The timing was impeccable—the kick ascended just as Darius lifted his guard, then hammered downward with relentless force.

  The impact was instantaneous. Darius's eyes widened in shock before his legs buckled beneath him. He crumpled to the ground, unmoving, the echo of the strike lingering in the hushed arena.

  ‘H—he was supposed to be an elite Ranger,’ Oliver thought, disbelief coursing through him as he stared at Darius sprawled on the mat.

  "Next!" Stewart's voice cut through the silence like a bde. He gnced briefly at Darius's unconscious form before turning his attention back to the group. "Blue Ranger, give me a hand. Drag him out so he can recover off the arena."

  "Yes, sir," Oliver responded promptly. He rushed forward, slipping his arms under Darius's shoulders. As he began to pull him away, he could feel the weight of his fellow trainee—a stark reminder of the General's formidable skill.

  "One at a time is too easy," Stewart remarked, a hint of boredom in his tone. "Let's have two at once. Bck Ranger and Red Ranger, step up."

  Oliver was still descending the arena steps when he found himself face to face with the two Rangers approaching the ptform. His heart sank as recognition hit him like a cold wave.

  Kyle and Damian.

  GCLopes