Disclaimer: I do not own the Power Rangers. All characters are the property of the current copyright holders, likely Saban Brands. This is a fan work and no profit is being made from it.
Author’s note: This story takes place after the ending of Boom Studios’ Shattered Grid #1 and their Shattered Grid storyline. It is AU to the events that happen at the end of that series. In this series Drakkon accomplished his goal, but was defeated. That defeat led to the collapse of the Morphin Grid and the destruction of the Multiverse as it was at that point.
Also in this series it is assumed that the Super Mega Force never happened and that Ranger form never happened. This series is intended to act as a what could happened for Shattered Grid and an alternative to the adaptation of Gokaiger. Mega Force will have their story changed later.
This series is completely seperate from my Shattered Grid series.
Beyond the Grid
Beyond the Grid
In the aftermath of the war between Lord Drakkon and his enemies, from all over the united Multiverse, great ships sail the void to conquer what remains of existence. The factions, eager to snatch the power left behind by the fallen empires of darkness, seek to build new territory in previously inaccessible parts of existence. The heroes long to cross the now uncharted seas of space and time, to find secret powers hidden on a lowly planet that radiates hope to those around it. All dream of following the paths exposed by Drakkon’s failure, to gather the keys that will unlock the door and lead them to a most elusive prize… and the Greatest Treasure.
The Power was a multi-universal energy constrained within a dimensional plane known as the Morphin Grid. Like crude oil, the Power in its raw form was a culmination of different wavelengths bonded together. It was a highly prized, extremely dangerous resource with many applications that could only be utilised safely when the differing energies were isolated, tapped and channelled through holes in the dimensional fabric.
Throughout history some of the many the different energies that made up the Power had seeped through weak points in the barrier, giving rise to stories about magic and other phenomenon. Over time ways had been found to channel the leaking energy and to put it to use. For as long as many races could remember, the Power-derived energies drawn from the Morphin Grid had been used to empower teams of Rangers.
But now it was all gone. The dimension barriers around the Morphin Grid had been shattered by the actions of Lord Drakkon. The Power had been unleashed in its rawest, most destructive form upon the Multiverse. Very little had survived the onslaught to the flood of energy.
There was no doubt that Drakkon was to blame, although the arrogance and overconfidence of the entities that resided within the Morphin Grid had made it easier for him to succeed. Drakkon had been the one to draw upon different forms of the Power and use them to create holes in the dimensional walls, but it had been the Morphin Masters that had refused to cut the villain’s link to the Power when they had had the chance; they had been so confident in their own positions of power they had ignored the possibility that Drakkon could succeed.
When Rita Repulsa had used the Green Candle to rob him of his power, Drakkon had grown desperate to maintain his link to the Morphin Grid. In a moment of insanity, he had taken all the power at his disposal into himself, ignoring the warnings from his most loyal follower. Through pain and a refusal to be denied, Lord Drakkon had infused himself with energies he already held, creating an instability even he could not control.
His plan succeeded and for a moment he managed to enter the Morphin Grid and seized control. There he expelled, absorbed or outright killed the entities that had called the strange dimension their home; he made himself a part of the Morphin Grid in the knowledge that he could then control it. He had ascended to godhood, his physical body transformed into energy, and proclaimed himself triumphant. At that point there was not a Ranger or higher being that could argue with him. Drakkon had won!
And then something changed and it all came crashing down around him. Whether it was the manipulations of the Ranger Slayer and Grace Sterling, or a new spell by the treacherous witch Rita Repulsa – seeking her revenge after learning how he had treated her counterpart-, or the inevitable backlash from drawing on an unstable mix of energies to bolster his power following Rita’s activation of the Green Candle; something had destabilised his powers and in doing so had caused his new energy-based form to break apart. That loss of control triggered a chain reaction, which caused the very power that had been sustaining him to turn inward and consume him.
Drakkon had become the central part of the Morphin Grid and his loss of control over his energy was reflected by violent eruptions inside the dimensional plane. As he was consumed by his own power, the energy surrounding him was drawn inward, compressing the energy into the tiny vessel his body represented; the pressure was unbelievable. And then his new body was gone, along with his consciousness, and there was nothing to contain the massive accumulation of volatile energies.
The Morphin Grid exploded outward, breaching the dimensional barriers and flooding everything beyond with the raw, unrestrained power of existence. The Power tore through every dimension, universe and plane of reality, devastating anything it touched, annihilating all life in its path. The Multiverse burned and died until the Power was exhausted. Time became irrelevant as an event that should have taken billions of years passed in a matter of minutes. And then it was time to hope that something, anything, had survived.
In truth when compared to what had been there before, it was clear that very little remained. The Morphin Grid had burnt itself out and whatever energy remained had been tainted by Drakkon’s presence. The dimensional barriers closed around isolated pockets of energy that were slowly drawn back together. The walls between the Morphin Grid and the rest of existence were now so thick that attempting to draw energy from them without a natural breach was almost impossible.
The physical world had barely survived. The Multiverse had been reduced to less than a few hundred realities, many of which had been rendered sterile. In others, only a handful of worlds that had had previous exposure to the Power had withstood the destructive wave. The common feature in all those realities was the small world known as Earth.
For as long as anybody could remember, the Earth had been dubbed the most worthless planet in creation and the greatest prize in the universe. While magically lacking the world was a focal point of dimensional probability, making it one of the hubs around which the Multiverse formed. In what remained of existence, controlling the Earth had suddenly become a top priority.
When Existence had functioned properly, the individual realities that made up the Multiverse were surrounded by dimensional walls and separated by the void kept the walls from touching. Crossing between realities when the walls were intact was possible, but only happened under carefully controlled conditions, or complete accident.
Following the collapse of the Morphin Grid, the walls between realities had been washed away by the Power, which had allowed the void to seep in and reclaim much of existence. The Multiverse had been transformed into one very large, rapidly shrinking universe; a vast sea of eradicating void with the occasional mass of a universe. And within those stable areas, like a beacon calling out to any would-be invader, was the Earth. Hundreds of Earths in a single universe, each promising unimaginable power to those ambitious enough to seek it; the attraction of seeking out and conquering all known Earths, was unquestionable.
Of course, travelling inside the isolated universes had become more difficult without the Morphin Grid and the benefit of teleportation, and the wave of destruction had eliminated many of the races capable of producing suitable vessels. Those that remained possessed either the greatest technological advanced vessels capable of surviving the volatile conditions or were so primitive their navigation systems had not been disrupted by the magnetic storms that had followed; without the Morphin Grid to provide positional reference, the shorthand coordinates used for navigation could no longer be translated into directions a computer could understand, limiting the use of auto-pilots. Even fewer ships were capable of surviving in the void long enough to cross between one universal region and the next. Only vessels fitted with advanced reactive shielding or those made from the toughest materials could remain intact.
When the Morphin Grid had been lost, many of the old evils that relied on magic had fallen. The electromagnetic storms and corrosive tides that had followed had wrecked the likes of the Machine Empire. With the old threats gone, those that remained were warlords, creatures and pirates that preyed upon the weak.
The greatest threat was from the Armada, or at least remnants of what had once been the Armada. Long before the destruction of the Morphin Grid and the collapse of the Multiverse, the Armada had conquered the entirety of their universe. But that conquest was not enough for their desires and so their leader had assembled twenty-three fleets and had sent them out through the Void between realities to find new lands to conquer. Over billions of years, the fleets had successfully added to the Armada’s territory. At the time the Morphin Grid had collapsed, each fleet had reported the near completion of their tasks, with the slowest progress requiring only a decade or so to catch up with the others.
Their original universe had not survived the wave of destruction. Their leaders had been wiped out, leaving the Armada divided into factions. With the factions scattered across the new reality, with no means to communicate and no way to establish a rightful leader, each faction was left to deal with their own affairs. They had all heard of the mysterious planet to be found on the little planet Earth, and all were greedy enough to seek it out. Some chose to build their new empires with themselves as the supreme power first while the others abandoned the previous strategy of conquering worlds and instead raided every planet they encountered, stripping them of all useful resources before moving on in search of their target world.
And as they sailed and conquered, they planned how they would rid themselves of their competition, after they won the prize.
Some claimed that the Morphin Grid had been destroyed and completely disappeared leaving behind it a vast vacuum that could never be filled. That of course was utter rubbish. The barriers that had once surrounded the extra-dimensional plane known as the Morphin Grid had been broken, some would say they had shattered beyond recognition, but they had not been destroyed. Small sections – miniscule would have been a fitting description in some places – of the barrier had survived and had re-established themselves to retain whatever energy they could contain.
While it was a lot smaller than it had previously been, so long as something remained of the Morphin Grid, the Morphin Grid survived and would recover. For the Morphin Grid was the natural home of the highly potent mixture of energies known as the Power. While the Power had been unleashed upon existence, it could not be destroyed. Sooner or later the destructive wave would slow, the energies would separate and eventually they would return to the Morphin Grid. So long as a part of the Morphin Grid survived, the dimensional plane would recover and the energy that it had once held would return.
But not for a long time. And while the energy remained outside the boundaries of the Grid, the dangers remained. The days when the Morphin Grid could be used to create reams of multi-coloured superheroes were gone. In its current state it was unlikely that those seeking to draw upon its power would finish their transformation before running out of energy. There was only one thing that could restore the Morphin Grid to its former state and reboot the Multiverse so that existence reverted to its previous condition. And it was that singular elusive thing that had started a new quest across the rough ocean that was space and time as band of buccaneers set forth on a dangerous adventure.
Time was highly inconsistent in the new existence. In areas of centuries years could pass in a matter of days without causing those travelling to age. A task that should have taken a near eternity had been completed in just a few years. While some would consider it a good thing, it was a sign of just how badly the physics of reality had broken down.
But the task had been completed and the Emissary could finally rest. Once he had been one of the entities that been had a part of the Morphin Grid. Before that he had been what lesser beings referred to as an ancient Morphin Master. He had helped to construct the Morphin Grid and had been there when the Power had first filled the dimensional plane from a place far beyond. When Drakkon had gained access to the Morphin Grid, he had fought him, but had been cast out like many of his brethren.
He had survived the explosion that had followed Drakkon’s demise… barely. And unlike the lesser beings around him, he could see that the collapse of the Multiverse had not ended. The void was still spreading and consuming the edges of existence. The only way the universe could survive required the restoration of the Morphin Grid and the recreation of Multiverse. But that required the use of technology that had not been used since the days when the Emissary had been mortal.
The quest would be dangerous, and the Emissary knew that he would not be the one to complete it; his time was gone. Instead he had built a new set of Morphers, capable of drawing on the background energy left over from the explosion, and which now saturated existence. They would allow a basic transformation, but any Ranger using such a device would be weaker than their predecessors.
Fortunately, the Emissary had already taken such a weakness into account. He had spent his final years tracing the energy signatures of past Rangers. He had isolated the powers by energy source and colour and had then encoded the needed wavelengths and frequencies into a set of keys. By inserting the keys into one of his new morphers, a Ranger could zero in on the desired Ranger form, taking on the powers of past Rangers to assist them.
It wasn’t perfect of course. The device only copied the appearance of the previous Rangers and boosted the energy supplied by the new morphers. To truly unlock the abilities of each key would require training and hard work, but at least he had provided them with a chance.
The keys were stored in their own pocket dimension, accessible through a simple treasure chest. When needed the Rangers could either remove them or call them to their hand. Along with the ship he had used to travel through the void to gather them, the keys were his final gift to the Rangers. He wished them success although he knew that he would not be there to witness their triumph.
He used his remaining strength to find a being suitable of leading such a team and briefed him on his mission, before fading away.
The Armada fleet closed in on the little planet, which an initial scan had already shown to be incapable of mounting any real resistance. With the Royal Flag Ship in place, preparations were made for a rapid invasion, followed by a swift surrender by the natives and a rapid handover of power. From there the planet would be stripped of all useful resources before the fleet departed for their next conquest. There was no risk, few resources required and a large payoff when they finished. It was the sort of invasion their prince enjoyed.
So, when an unknown vessel appeared to the rear of the fleet, the captains though little of it. Even as it approached at speed without providing identification, it was mostly ignored. After all, who would be foolish enough to attack the Armada’s elite fighters with just one ship?
Then the intruder seemed to realise they were in the wrong place and turned the ship sharply to port. The various officers relaxed, prepared to let the insignificant craft leave. Until it opened fire.
Three ships were destroyed as the ship continued to turn, taking out more of the fleet with each shot.
“Open fire!” one of the captained ordered.
The fleet responded, but by that time the enemy craft had turned again and was making its way through their vessels, either slicing them to pieces with its sharp bow or blasting them to pieces as it passed them by.
The fleet tried to reorganise itself as the lone ship continued to weave its way through. By now some captains had even managed to turn their vessels so that they were facing the enemy instead of being attacked from behind. With superior numbers and firepower, they had expected a guaranteed victory… until the galleon shaped ship had started to shift and change into a Megazord with two large swords and started to cut into the opposing vessels as it made its way to Earth.
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