Kapitel 39: Protocol Unknown
Blue's heart pounded in his chest as he tore through the thick jungle, his body moving with the precision of a finely-tuned machine. The dense canopy overhead blocked most of the light, casting the ground below in a patchwork of shifting shadows. His boots slammed against the soft, uneven earth, avoiding tangled roots and the thick vines that stretched like fingers across the path. The air was thick and humid, clinging to him like a second skin, but none of that mattered—not now. Not with what he'd seen. His mind raced ahead, struggling to make sense of it all.
They couldn't be here. His former team couldn't be standing there in front of him. It wasn't possible.
Yet every step brought him closer to the truth that was tearing at the edges of his reality. Red, Black, Yellow, and Pink—his team—were alive. Alive and moving as if they had never been lost. As if the ten years since the Ceres mission hadn't happened.
"No additional life signs. Only the four Rangers," Nova's voice cut through the haze of disbelief clouding his thoughts. She was calm, focused. She had to be. "But I'm detecting AI activity—distinct signatures tied to Aegis, Bastion, Echo, and Prism. It's them, Blue. I've run every scan."
Her words sent a chill through him, cold and unrelenting. He wanted to reject the reality, wanted to cling to the version of events he knew to be true—that they had been killed, lost forever in the chaos of the Ceres mission. The aftermath had confirmed their deaths. He'd felt the impact of their loss through the neural link, the hollow ache that had settled in him as the reality of their absence sank in. He had mourned them.
And yet, here they were.
How? The question clawed at him, but there was no time to linger. His suit responded to his every movement, adapting with fluidity as he pushed through the jungle. His HUD pinged with updates as he moved, scanning the environment, honing in on the figures ahead. He zoomed in, and his breath caught.
There they were. Standing near the wreckage, moving with precision, their suits gleaming as if they had just stepped off the battlefield. Red, Black, Yellow, Pink—their forms unmistakable.
"Ten years…" Blue's thoughts were a whirlwind of disbelief, confusion, and something close to fear. He wasn't ready for this. He didn't know how to be.
His mind screamed that they had been killed in action. KIA. There had been no mistake, no misunderstanding. It had been one of the hardest things to accept, but he had accepted it because he had no choice. They were gone.
And now they were back.
"And now they're here," Nova's voice threaded through his thoughts, steady as ever, though even she couldn't fully mask the concern buried beneath her words. "We need to be careful, Blue."
Careful. That was an understatement. He could feel the weight of his pulse in his throat, hammering at his chest. He couldn't afford to let his emotions get the better of him—not now, not with everything that was unraveling in front of him. He forced his breathing to steady, falling back on the years of training that told him how to remain calm in the face of the impossible.
He wasn't ready for this, but he had to be.
As he closed in on the crash site, he noticed the way his former team stood in formation, their movements coordinated but somehow off. Their helmets were angled toward the sky, scanning upward. Blue recognized the stance immediately—they were trying to orient themselves, to confirm their location. But they weren't as sharp as they had once been. Their movements were just a little too slow, their coordination lacking the perfection it had once held.
They're disoriented. The thought sent a flicker of hope through him. They hadn't fully regained control. The crash had shaken them, made them vulnerable.
"They're verifying their location," Blue noted, watching as the four Rangers—Red, Black, Yellow, and Pink—worked together. Their AIs—Aegis, Bastion, Echo, and Prism—were collaborating, mapping out stellar constellations to determine where they had landed. It was a smart move, one he expected from Red, always so thorough, so careful to follow protocol.
"They're disoriented from the crash impact," Nova confirmed, her tone sharp with analysis. "It's affecting their cognitive processing speed. Their AIs are helping, but it's clear they're struggling."
"That's their first step," Blue thought, feeling the tension in his muscles build. "They need to know where they are before they make their next move."
A pit of unease opened in his chest. Something was wrong, beyond just the shock of seeing them alive. It was the way they moved, the way they hadn't yet acknowledged their surroundings. They weren't fully aware of the danger they were in—or the danger they could become.
If they had turned hostile, if they had become enemies, they would be capable of more than just physical attacks. They had neural links. Their AIs could connect, probe, and access systems they had no business accessing. If they knew he was here, they could use that to their advantage. And he couldn't risk that.
"Nova, we need to secure the link," Blue thought urgently, the reality of the situation slamming into him. "If they've been compromised, they could use our neural connection against us. They could find us."
"Already on it," Nova's response was swift, efficient. He felt the subtle shift in their connection as she fortified the neural link between them, locking it down with encryption layers thick enough to keep even the most advanced AI from breaching it. "I'm reinforcing the neural pathways. They won't be able to tap into our connection or track your location. We're secure."
Blue exhaled, tension easing slightly in his chest. The ever-present link between him and Nova tightened, fully isolated from any outside influence. For now, they were safe. But that small comfort didn't erase the reality in front of him.
"They can't know we're here," Blue thought, keeping his body low, his eyes trained on the figures ahead. His HUD flickered as it updated the distance between them—still far enough to remain unnoticed, but that could change in an instant.
His mind raced through possibilities, none of them offering clear answers. His team—his former team—was here, alive, moving, but were they still themselves? And if they weren't, what would he do then?
"Blue, I'm running a deep scan of their systems," Nova interrupted his thoughts, her mind threading into his once more. "Their firmware matches the protocols from the Ceres mission—same security layers, same operational systems. It's all ten years out of date."
Blue's pulse quickened. "Ten years…" He repeated the thought, grappling with the implications. Ten years was an eternity when it came to military technology. It meant they had no access to the current infrastructure, no connection to modern systems. He knew what that meant, but he needed Nova to confirm it.
"They can't connect to command, can they?" he asked, his mind running ahead.
"No," Nova confirmed, her analytical tone cutting through the tension. "They're locked out of every current military network. No date or time updates, no access to friend-or-foe identification systems. They're isolated from everything."
Blue's eyes narrowed. Good, he thought, his mind racing through the risks they had just avoided. If they had access to those systems, they could wreak havoc. "We can't have them accessing automated defense platforms, Zord bays, or rapid resupply pods. That could turn ugly, fast."
Nova's thoughts were clear in his mind. "Their firmware is old, Blue. They're stuck with outdated security protocols. No challenge codes, no access to military networks. As long as we keep them out of range, they'll stay isolated."
"We've got time, then." He wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.
Nova cut through his thoughts again, her tone now edged with urgency. "Blue, the Rangers are transmitting distress signals on Ranger-only frequencies."
His eyes widened slightly. "Can Command pick it up?"
"No," Nova replied swiftly. "It's an old frequency. Obsolete, much like their systems. We can hear it, but Command won't. They're completely cut off."
As Blue tuned into the transmission, a familiar voice echoed through his mind—Red's voice, strong and authoritative, just as he remembered it. But there was an edge to it now, a hint of desperation.
"Mayday, Mayday, Mayday—this is the Red Ranger," she called out, her tone steady but tense. "My team has made landfall. Stellar constellations confirm that this is Earth. Unable to confirm geographic region. All communications channels and networks are offline. Team disoriented. Require retrieval."
The message repeated in a loop. Blue's breath hitched as he listened to it over and over again. Red's voice was calm, composed, but underneath that professionalism was the undeniable strain of uncertainty.
"They're reaching out," Nova observed, her voice echoing in Blue's mind. "Trying to establish contact."
Blue gritted his teeth. "But no one's listening."
The distress call looped again. It was an SOS call thrown into the void, and they had no idea how far removed they were from the world they knew. They couldn't even place themselves on a map beyond confirming they were on Earth. Their confusion ran deep, and Blue could feel the panic growing beneath their well-practiced protocol.
"They're isolated from everything," Nova repeated. "No communications network, no access to modern infrastructure. We're the only ones who can hear them."
Blue's eyes remained locked on the Rangers, watching for any signs of aggression. His mind was split between the familiarity of their voices and the very real threat they posed.
Before Blue could respond, Nova's voice cut through his thoughts again. "Blue, I'm detecting increased neural activity between the Rangers and their AIs."
Blue's pulse quickened again. "What kind of activity?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the small but deliberate movements from his former team.
"Their brain activity is spiking," Nova explained. "The rate of data exchange between the Rangers and their AIs is escalating. They're communicating heavily through their neural links."
Blue's HUD flickered as he zoomed in on them, watching their subtle gestures, their stance shifting as they communicated internally. This wasn't good.
"Can we listen in?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"Not unless we lower our own neural security," Nova responded, her tone cautious. "We're running a full encryption. If we tried to tap into their link, we'd open ourselves up to them—and I don't think you want to risk that."
Blue clenched his jaw. The Rangers were likely making decisions, strategizing through their internal links, but he and Nova were blind to it. Their own mental security prevented them from hearing anything useful.
"So we're in the dark while they plan their next move," he thought grimly. He could see it now—the slight, almost imperceptible movements as they adjusted their stances, coordinated through the AI chatter. They were getting their bearings, making sense of the situation, and he had no idea what conclusions they were reaching.
Suddenly, Red broke away from the group.
Her posture was sharp, authoritative, her movements deliberate. Blue tensed immediately, lowering himself even further behind the cover of dense foliage, his HUD tracking her with every step. She was walking in a straight line—directly toward him.
"She can't see us," Nova whispered through his thoughts, scanning her movements. "I'm certain of it."
But Blue's mind raced. There was no reason for her to come this way. His camouflage was fully active, and he was well-hidden, completely shielded from her view.
"No, she can't," Blue agreed. "But maybe she can feel us…" His thoughts whirled as the realization dawned. "We're connected through the Morphin Grid. We always were. It's possible they're sensing me through the Grid itself."
Red's steps were steady, her helmet angled forward as though she were homing in on something. She hadn't seen him, but she was coming toward him nonetheless.
"They can feel us through the Grid," Blue thought again, his pulse quickening. "They're reaching out through it, whether they know it or not."
Red came to a stop several meters away, her stance rigid and commanding. She couldn't know exactly where he was—not yet—but it was clear she was closing in on something. Her posture screamed authority, control.
Then, her voice boomed, amplified through her helmet's external speakers, clear and authoritative.
"Attention, unidentified Ranger Operator! Under Article 7 of the Post-Countdown Protocols, you are ordered to stand down and surrender your equipment!" Her tone was firm, unyielding. "Failure to comply will classify you as an enemy combatant or insurgent—we will use lethal force to subdue you."
Blue's heart pounded in his chest as her words echoed in the clearing. They had just confirmed what he feared—if his former team saw him as a threat, they wouldn't hesitate to act.
This was it. They were ready to treat him as hostile.
Nova's thoughts filtered in, calm but firm. "They're operating by the book. It's all they have."
Blue remained still, crouched in the underbrush, his mind racing. Red had always followed protocol to the letter, and now, even in their disoriented state, she was prepared to act.
Nova responded immediately, her tone sharp and precise. "Understood. Initiating 'Atlas Override.'"
In Solari Delta, shield generators roared to life, covering the city with an impenetrable, shimmering energy dome. Electrical currents danced along the surface, and massive auto-turrets slid into view atop towering skyscrapers, scanning for any aerial or ground threats. Emergency sirens echoed across every block, urging the populace to seek refuge in fallout shelters. The local garrison moved swiftly, mobilizing with the trained precision of an experienced force.
In Cincarion, in the North American heartland, luminescent shield projectors came online, encapsulating the city in a radiant barrier. Artillery platforms, concealed beneath the streets and in strategic points, emerged from their bunkers. Automated drones deployed into tactical formations as announcements blared across neighborhoods, guiding civilians to shelters. Garrison forces moved to secure power grids and key infrastructure, their readiness evident in their swift response.
In Aurelia, outside the remnants of Rio de Janeiro, the shield dome activated, bathing the city in a translucent glow. Concealed train bunkers opened, releasing high-speed armored trains equipped with heavy artillery, which began their defensive orbits in concentric patterns. Auto-turrets unfolded from elevated positions as sirens wailed, prompting citizens to move to safety with practiced efficiency. The militia, well-prepared, took their positions, ready to respond to any immediate threat.
Nova responded immediately, her tone sharp and precise. "Understood. Initiating 'Atlas Override.'"
In Solari Delta, shield generators roared to life, covering the city with an impenetrable, shimmering energy dome. Electrical currents danced along the surface, and massive auto-turrets slid into view atop towering skyscrapers, scanning for any aerial or ground threats. Emergency sirens echoed across every block, urging the populace to seek refuge in fallout shelters. The local garrison moved swiftly, mobilizing with the trained precision of an experienced force.
In Cincarion, in the North American heartland, luminescent shield projectors came online, encapsulating the city in a radiant barrier. Artillery platforms, concealed beneath the streets and in strategic points, emerged from their bunkers. Automated drones deployed into tactical formations as announcements blared across neighborhoods, guiding civilians to shelters. Garrison forces moved to secure power grids and key infrastructure, their readiness evident in their swift response.
In Aurelia, outside the remnants of Rio de Janeiro, the shield dome activated, bathing the city in a translucent glow. Concealed train bunkers opened, releasing high-speed armored trains equipped with heavy artillery, which began their defensive orbits in concentric patterns. Auto-turrets unfolded from elevated positions as sirens wailed, prompting citizens to move to safety with practiced efficiency. The militia, well-prepared, took their positions, ready to respond to any immediate threat.
In Victoria, shield generators emitted a hum that reverberated through the historic streets, creating an iridescent energy dome that merged the modern skyline with relics of the past. Auto-turrets emerged discreetly from both historic landmarks and contemporary buildings, their presence a juxtaposition of tradition and innovation. Sirens urged residents to underground shelters, while defense units moved with precision, positioning themselves at key strategic nodes throughout the city.
In Frostspire, nestled in the frozen reaches of Antarctica, an energy shield materialized, its gleaming surface blending seamlessly with the white expanse of the ice-covered landscape. Auto-turrets emerged from armored panels embedded within the fortress's high walls, swiveling against the gusting winds as they scanned for aerial intrusions. Defense teams, bundled in advanced cold-weather gear, secured vital assets and ensured the resilience of supply lines against both environmental and external threats.
At CoralVault, situated along Australia's southern coastline, terrestrial and aquatic defenses activated in unison. An energy dome enveloped the land-based portion of the city, while beneath the waves, pulse cannons and autonomous submarines fanned out in well-coordinated formations. These defenses secured research sites and aquatic habitats against potential incursions. Coastal residents responded to the emergency alarms by swiftly relocating to shelters, while local militia organized to safeguard critical access points.
In the four Aquitarian cities—Aquameris, Sephira, Maristhos, and Auroralis—their translucent domes hardened, the opalescent structures enhancing their defenses against any potential impact. A synchronized sonar pulse rippled through the ocean, meticulously scanning for underwater threats. Defense drones streamed from the cities' core, patrolling boundaries with swift precision, while inhabitants calmly moved to fortified shelters designed to withstand both man-made and natural threats.
The lockdown was absolute, global, and unmistakable—a comprehensive measure that signaled strength in the face of unknown dangers. Each city, distinguished by its unique geography and infrastructure, stood ready, fortified against any possible threat. Blue watched with a steely focus, fully grasping the magnitude of his decision and the far-reaching consequences, as the world prepared itself for whatever might come next.
In Frostspire, nestled in the frozen reaches of Antarctica, an energy shield materialized, its gleaming surface blending seamlessly with the white expanse of the ice-covered landscape. Auto-turrets emerged from armored panels embedded within the fortress's high walls, swiveling against the gusting winds as they scanned for aerial intrusions. Defense teams, bundled in advanced cold-weather gear, secured vital assets and ensured the resilience of supply lines against both environmental and external threats.
At CoralVault, situated along Australia's southern coastline, terrestrial and aquatic defenses activated in unison. An energy dome enveloped the land-based portion of the city, while beneath the waves, pulse cannons and autonomous submarines fanned out in well-coordinated formations. These defenses secured research sites and aquatic habitats against potential incursions. Coastal residents responded to the emergency alarms by swiftly relocating to shelters, while local militia organized to safeguard critical access points.
In the four Aquitarian cities—Aquameris, Sephira, Maristhos, and Auroralis—their translucent domes hardened, the opalescent structures enhancing their defenses against any potential impact. A synchronized sonar pulse rippled through the ocean, meticulously scanning for underwater threats. Defense drones streamed from the cities' core, patrolling boundaries with swift precision, while inhabitants calmly moved to fortified shelters designed to withstand both man-made and natural threats.
The lockdown was absolute, global, and unmistakable—a comprehensive measure that signaled strength in the face of unknown dangers. Each city, distinguished by its unique geography and infrastructure, stood ready, fortified against any possible threat. Blue watched with a steely focus, fully grasping the magnitude of his decision and the far-reaching consequences, as the world prepared itself for whatever might come next.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein