Hell Strain

[Lord Zedd]

Another tier, another door Zedd violently ripped from its hinges. The deposed warlord marched into a warehouse that managed to be even more bleak and depressing than the previous one he’d slaughtered his way through. The peons responsible for it appeared to be prepared for him, this time, as they were all braced with firearms behind the various forms of cover that littered the place. It was inconsequential to one as mighty as Lord Zedd.

“You better back out of here!” one of the insignificant minions shouted.

“Fools!” Zedd bellowed, raising his staff once more. “I am Lord Zedd, Emperor of a-”

From the shadows a hidden figure leaped onto Zedd’s back, wielding nothing more than a small syringe. As the dark lord roared in surprise, the man quickly plunged it into his neck and drained all the contents into the stunned prime. Zedd was quick to throw the man aside, and rip the device from his mutilated flesh. A quick glance at the vial showed him that this was the “Hell Strain” he had been sent to recover. Furious at the indignation, he shattered the glass in his palms and marched forward. No one would escape this time.

However, he only made it three steps before he suddenly found himself in a completely different place. The enemy filled warehouse deteriorated around him, and he found himself only in a dark temple. Metal became sand and stone, and the cramped and crowded environment of gave way to a flat arena with no visible exit. Most importantly, a handful of inconsequential foes were replaced a single one at the center of the area. One he took very seriously.

Before Zedd stood the Red Ranger. Not just any one of them, though, this one was the original power that he knew best, but in recent times he’d been led to believe had been destroyed. The circumstances of this encounter eluded him. Was he hallucinating? Had he been transported? Heaven forbid, had they managed to banish him in a surprise attack? He’d heard tales of a land beyond his greatest horrors, and surely one of the six powers that angered him most would be a worthy inclusion. He would not falter, however. Just like everything else in this cursed land, they were destined to fall before him. The only question was, which insufferable Red Ranger was he facing?

“I don’t know how you ended up here, Jason, but it doesn’t matter,” Zedd taunted, assuming he was facing the mightier of the two immediately. The Ranger offered no response, so he continued his taunting. “Or is that you, Rocky? Did you bite off more than you can chew?”

Once more the Ranger didn’t respond, but that’s when Zedd noticed the finer detail of the matter. He was standing in a bladed stance, one that was unnecessary for a Ranger but instead might be forged from habit after years as a secret agent before ever touching a power coin. Jason Lee Scott was always firm in his stance and ready to hold his place or fight forward, while Rocky DeSantos was always prepared to maximize his agility and speed in an encounter. Clearly, this Ranger wasn’t either of them. It was someone far more ancient and far more familiar.

“No, its you, isn’t it?” Zedd spoke his realization aloud. “The most foolish of all to show himself here, but in this twisted world little surprises me.”

“It’s you,” the Ranger calmly reminded him.

Zedd scoffed loudly at such an asinine accusation, regardless of the degree of truth it held. “I haven’t thought of that life in over ten thousand years, you think some mind game in this absurd reality could change that?”

“Your body is already reacting, forging the coin with the power of Omnilium as we speak,” the Ranger replied.

“Don’t waste my time,” Zedd growled angrily.

“If only you hadn’t come to the Omniverse,” the Ranger lamented. “You were so close to being free.”

“I was close to seizing complete control!” Zedd roared at his enemy. “But that world, this world, it doesn’t matter. Wherever I am, I climb to the top and establish my rule as the only true emperor!”

“You’ll just have to see,” the Ranger solemnly replied, as he and the world around him began to fade away.

Zedd went to move forward, to assault his foe, but in an instant he was back in the warehouse. He found himself winded, gasping for breath at a kneel as he recoiled from the effects of the toxin. His blood littered the ground, and he felt bullet holes and gashes all over him. The savages had assaulted him with their primitive tools once he was under the virus’s influence, but they had failed to kill him. Instead, their own bodies littered the area around him. Zedd had a good idea why.

“Good thing I came after you,” Tate Schell snarled from behind him. “They might have killed you.”

“They would not have,” Zedd declared as he stood up, and turned to face the agent. “Was that the Hell Strain?”

“It was,” Schell answered. “Evidently it doesn’t affect a prime as much as some weaker secondaries. They do that to a lot of people for a longer time, if they refine it.”

“I see,” Zedd did not denounce the virus like he did everything else in the Empire. After what it did to him, the thoughts and voices still bouncing around his head… this one was for real.

“It’s gone, now, though,” Schell snapped. “The trail is cold, and we’ll have to start over. This wouldn’t have happened if you had worked with me.”

“I feel that goes both ways,” Zedd retorted.

Schell scoffed, but turned and began to leave regardless. “Don’t think it won’t show up on my report.

Zedd looked down at his right hand, where sure enough the Tyrannosaurus power coin rested in his palm. He’d hidden it from the Imperial agent. He could have summoned it and its powers at any point in his stay here, but that life was long behind him. Yet, now a hallucination had been so powerful that he involuntarily summoned it. He would keep it, for the resource if nothing else. Just as troubling that he’d summoned it was the fact that something could make him do that. It needed to be looked into.

With a final scoff, Zedd departed the warehouse after Schell.