Corrupted Shields

Prologue-

Any Place But Home

Why? Why did I take it? A question that had burned for ages within the mind of Lord Drakkon, and one he would ask himself for even more decades to come. Why did I choose to leave home? Why did I let myself become Displaced? Why, why, WHY!? The man put the white knuckles of his glove against the side of his white and gold helmet. How long had it been since he’d actually felt the material against his skin? He gave a quiet sigh and looked back towards the brown coated, weaselly figure that stood before him.

He was only half listening as the being, a Displacer, tried to convince him of some hair-brained endeavor. Something about another ranger and a… navigator? Drakkon just gave another small sigh and kept the red visor of his helmet trained on the figure as he let his eyes take on a bored expression.

I’ve already conquered hundreds of worlds, he thought impatiently to himself. What’s two “heroes” to me? He chuckled at that as his mind went back to a time he had tried to be a hero himself. How stupid. He frowned. Of all the worlds he had taken, there was one he couldn’t find. The only one he truly wanted above all else. His thoughts drifted, drowning out the fool in front of him even further until he was back, long before this whole “Displaced” business started….

Power Morphicon 2016. Kyle Fawkes walked the aisles with a bored expression on his face as his little sister ooo’d and aah’d at everything in sight. How a little ten-year-old girl could be so into Power Rangers was beyond him. He calmly readjusted the blue and white letterman that he’d gotten for playing wide receiver as he waded through the crowd after his sister. The teen thought back to why he was here but quickly dismissed the thought.

He’s getting help, he thought to himself. Just hold out for another month or so, and everything will be okay. Kyle came back to his senses just in time to see his little sister, Kira, run around yet another booth in the crowded hall. The young man rolled his blue eyes and hurried after his sister, not wanting her to get out of his sight again. He caught up just in time to find the young girl frozen in place and staring.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to run off like that, Kira?” He questioned, coming up behind her and putting a hand on her shoulder, only to be surprised as the girl latched onto him, giving small whimpers. The teen rolled his eyes again and sighed. “What's wrong now?” He questioned with the slightest bit of irritation in his voice.

The little girl only responded by pointing down the mostly empty lane. Kyle looked up and followed the direction of her finger to find a young man dressed up in a yellow and black costume talking to a vendor dressed as some sort of bug sporting a ragged brown cloak. Kyle watched them for a second before looking down at his sister. “What’s wrong with you?” He asked. “It’s just a couple people in costumes.”

The girl only shivered and pointed to the young man in the black and yellow costume. “That’s a Psycho Ranger….” Kyle’s look only became more confused as he looked down at his sister, his eyes rising to look at the man. Now that he took a closer look, the young man was probably closer to his own age, if not a year or two older than him, and the armor he wore did have a distinctly more… angry, more twisted look to it than many of the other cosplays he had seen throughout the day. Shifting his gaze, he looked at the person behind the table, a merchant of some kind, as they handed a wrapped bundle of some sort to the blonde cosplayer.

Kyle felt his body give an involuntary shudder. There was a sort of… shrewd aura to him, something that just wasn’t right. The athlete watched as the other young man unwrapped the cloth and start as he unwrapped a helmet. The gray-eyed cosplayer never looked up as he spoke a few words to the merchant who was slowly beginning to raise his hand and fingers. The young man looked up and said something else only to be cut off by the seller’s snapping fingers. The costumed man’s eyes drifted closed and he began to tilt backward falling straight through a hole that seemed to carve itself out of thin air.

The portal swallowed the young man and closed as quickly as it had opened, Kyle’s eyes widening at what he had just witnessed. “What the…?” He trailed off, trying to step forward, only to be halted as his little sister held onto him, face buried in his t-shirt. The young man sighed and put a hand on Kira’s back. “You can look now, the psycho or whatever is gone.” Somehow….

The girl looked up and turned slowly to see the vendor quickly taking things off his table and storing them away. The little girl seemed to give a breath of relief and let go of him even as Kyle watched the merchant with weary eyes. “Stay here,” he commanded, moving around her before looking back and pointing a finger at her. “I mean it this time, stay here.” Without waiting for a response, Kyle turned back to see the man almost done putting stuff away, a single roll cart remaining. The college student hurried forward, catching the man just as he was starting to walk away. “Hey,” he said, coming to a stop behind the costumed vendor.

The man turned to look at him before seeming to grow a mite taller than him. “What?” The merchant asked, his voice impatient and harsh.

“What did you do to that guy?” The sportsman questioned, undeterred by the taller man’s glare. “One minute he was standing here and the next minute you give him a helmet, snap your fingers, and poof! He’s gone.”

“I don’t have time for this,” the merchant growled, starting to turn away.

“Wait!” Kyle exclaimed, grabbing the figure’s shoulders only to jerk back as the vendor whirled around to face him. “Just… wait…. Could you…” he paused and looked back towards his little sister for a moment before giving a sigh and turning back. “Could you do the same for me?”

A very inhuman growl met his request, the looming being stepping towards him, making him step back. “Listen, kid,” the merchant spat, any form of politeness or calm he might have had shriveling up. “I do not have time for you! I’ve got bigger fish to fry, much-needed plans to enact, so, if you do not mind… back. Off!” Kyle took another step back as the vendor whirled back around angrily and strode off quickly.

The young man merely stood where he was debating on whether or not he should follow the strange merchant, or simply go back to watching his sister. At the thought, he turned to look at her, only to sigh and put his hand over his eyes. Sliding his fingers down his face, he walked back towards the crowd of people, once again prepared to track down his sibling.

August 3, 2017, found Kyle Fawkes once more on his computer, typing furiously as he browsed the internet looking for the site he needed. “Ah-ha!” He exclaimed as he came across what he was looking for; the Power Morphicon home page. The young man had spent the last year trying to prep for this event, and for only one reason. He wanted to be Displaced.

After his encounter at the convention center, the college athlete had spent all his time trying to figure out what he had seen. He had eventually come across web articles and stories about people, usually in costume, being snatched up and disappearing at these conventions. He’d also come across an article about a stunt pilot going missing after a crash, but paid it no mind. With his discovery came a new idea, and with that a plan.

He’d spent what he could of his free time watching videos and buying up materials for DIY projects. The young man glanced over his shoulder at the completed work that he had chosen to be Displaced as. The green, white, and gold armor of Boom Studio’s Lord Drakkon hung on the inside of his open closet doors, the helmet, boots, and gloves sitting on a shelf within the closet. He had taken more than a few liberties in the design, giving it a bit of an upgraded look than that of the comics. He’d taken inspiration from both the armored look of the 1995 movie and the designs of the Super Power Beat Down web series, giving the suit a more reinforced and decorative look. He’d added a bit of green padding to the shoulders underneath the main chest shield, lining the padding in gold that seemed to connect to the gold armbands, said bands now sporting narrow strips of green along the top and bottom. Gold lining ran from the underarm straps of the chest piece, rounding out along the sides and thighs of the suit, ribs of gold connecting the front and back of the decoration as it ran down. Finally, he’d engraved the sharp, zigzag designs of his grieves and shin guards with green rather than leave them as thin black lines. Finally, the weapon holstered to the armor’s hip was neither the Dragon Dagger nor Saba, but a weapon of his own design.

The sword had the head of Black Dragon on the pommel, the figure being plated in silver to match the rest of the hilt which was just the same as Saba’s only with the Dragon Dagger’s valve buttons. The handguard started like Saba’s as well, the only noticeable differences being the presence of the Dragon Dagger’s mouthpiece and leadpipe that worked its way around the Drakkon power coin. The blade extended from there, the Dragon Dagger’s instrument/blade combo making up the backbone that the base of Saba’s blade would usually occupy while Kyle’s favorite addition to the sword extended far past that. In place of Saba’s short, broad blade was a longer, more slender blade that ended with a serrated edge to mirror the curved cutting edge. Somehow the athlete had found a way to worm the Sword of Darkness into the design, and the young man was actually quite pleased with his own cleverness.

The armor was a bit bulky but sleek and elegant and a great source of pride for the student, even more so than the wall of medals, trophies, and certificates that sat plastered to one side of his room. Kyle gave a huff and rolled his eyes, looking back to his cosplay, thoughts beginning to roll through his head. “...There’s no way in hell that Displacer will pass me up this time,” he murmured to himself… only to start as the loud sound of glass shattering downstairs echoed through the walls.

The sound of raised voices reached him from the first floor of the house and the young man darted out of his chair, advanced tickets to the convention completely forgotten. Kyle ran down the hall to the staircase, quickly taking a few steps down before jumping up and kicking off the wall, throwing himself over the railing. He dropped to the first floor and ignored the jar in his legs as he got up and cannoned into the kitchen where he found his mother and sister cowering in a corner while his father screamed at shouted at them, picking up whatever he could get his hands on and throwing it at the pair.

The athlete’s eyes widened. “Hey!” He shouted, running forward and grabbing hold of his father’s arm, drawing the angry man’s eyes onto him. “What’s going on? What’s happening on down here?”

Mr. Fawkes’s eyes narrowed and he jerked his arm out of Kyle’s hand, turning to completely face him. “These bitches,” the man began, taking a step forward while pointing behind him to his wife and daughter as they continued to cower. “Were plannin’ to kill me! All the pills they got the doctors to give me, all this time in the kitchen alone! ?I even caught one of 'em with a knife saying how they were gonna cut me up!” The man turned his eyes on his wife and daughter, a growl rumbling up into his throat. “Well… I’ll show them….” The man started forward once more, flipping chairs out of his way as Kyle’s mother and sister’s eyes widened in fear.

“Dad! Dad!” Kyle cried out, once more rushing forward to put a hand on his old man’s shoulder. “They were just cooking dinner! Just- damn it!- Dad, just calm down!” The older man froze in place and slowly turned to face his son, eyes narrowed.

“...You’re in on it,” Mr. Fawkes growled, teeth gritting together.

Kyle slowly pulled his arm back and put his hands up passively. “No, dad,” he said calmly. “Nobody’s in on anything, and no one wants to hurt you…. Dad, I need you to tell me, did you take your me-” The young man was cut off as a blur of motion cracked into his cheekbone, his father’s fist knocking him back into the counter.

“Dad what the he-” Was all the young man got out before his eyes raised to see his father rushing at him, a wild look in his eyes. Kyle only just managed to get his arms up and cover his face as Mr. Fawkes laid into him, throwing angry, misguided punches at the college student. Kyle was forced back into the counter again, the sharp pain in his back making him arch and open up his defenses just enough to let his old man get in. Mr. Fawkes’ fist slipped through his arms and slammed into his temple, knocking stars into his vision as Kyle felt his legs give ever so slightly. Sensing the moment of weakness, the older man pushed Kyle’s arms apart and tackled him, pressing his full body weight into his son as his big hands wrapped around Kyle’s throat.

The young man’s eyes widened and his hands came up, scrambling to rip off his father’s hands, the air to and from his lungs becoming less and less. Choking noises gurgled their way out of his throat as he thrashed, eyes darting from one side to the other, searching for anything he could use. Desperate, Kyle turned his eyes back on his father and pulled his fist back, slamming his knuckles into the side of Mr. Fawkes’ face only to receive another growl as the older man took one of his hands from his throat.

The two struggled against each other until Mr. Fawkes had a grip on his son’s hand, violently smashing it into the edge of the kitchen counter. Several loud cracks and snaps ripped through the air as Kyle let out pain-filled, choking cries. The older man ceased trying to crush the boy’s hand and returned his second hand to Kyle’s throat, squeezing even more powerfully than before, pushing forward with all of his body weight. Kyle’s eyes widened until they were practically bulging, his face turning a bright red that was swiftly changing as well. The young man threw his eyes around once more. A metallic twinkle caught his attention and without thinking, Kyle snatched the knife from the countertop… and plunged it into the side of his father’s throat.

The older man’s eyes widened in surprise as blood began to spray from his wound, coating the counter and Kyle in the red life-blood as he stepped back. He gave a strangled, gurgling cry as he reached up and clawed out the knife before his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. He slumped to the ground, hitting his knees before his body slumped back, a dark pool of blood growing out around his body.

Kyle’s wide frightened eyes watched as the life drained from his father, his breath heaving in his chest. His head jerked to look at his mother and sister, both of which were staring at him. The woman started when she caught his gaze, her arm protectively pushing Kira behind her. Kyle felt his eyes screw up in confusion, Mrs. Fawkes’ own gaze narrowing in response. Her eyes darted to the side before coming back to stare at him. The young man slowly looked away from his mother to see what it was she had glanced at. On the table, not five feet between them was the kitchen phone. Kyle’s face once more screwed up in confusion before his eyes widened in realization and he jerked back to look at his mother.

“Mom, no, wait-” But his plea came too late. Mrs. Fawkes’ was already at the phone, the fated three-digit number already dialed as she pressed the receiver to her ear.

“This is Dolores Fawkes,” the woman said into the device. “My son has just stabbed my husband.” Kyle’s eyes widened further and he stepped back. He looked between Mrs. Fawkes and his sister, seeing the devil in one and the fear in the other. With a quick motion, he looked to his father’s corpse before starting as his mother spoke again.

“The address is 367 Blane Avenue,” Mrs. Fawkes said, Kyle’s gaze searching her own… before he ran. “HE’S RUNNING, HE’S GETTING AWAY!” His mother’s shrill scream followed him as he streaked through the house. He turned to the side a bit, lowering his shoulder before he careened full speed into the front door, the flimsy door handle lock giving way with a splintering of wood. The sound of glass shattering followed him as he dashed off down the street, darting to the side and running behind a house as the sound of sirens filled the air, red and blue lights blinding the sky from down the street.

The receiver ran through the backyard of the home, jumping and pulling himself over the wooden fence behind it and into the next yard. He ran to the other side and jumped the fence again, taking off across another street, this time running up the road, opposite the direction of the sirens. After a few minutes, he once again cut across the street and through another yard, jumping another backyard fence twice over before ending in an alleyway. He turned again and doubled back for the second time.

Kyle ran and ran and ran, twisting and turning through the neighborhood he had grown up in. He even passed by the house his friend James had moved into when they were only eight or nine. God, had it really been so long since those days? When he was happy before his father got sick. The young man slowly ground to a halt, too exhausted to continue, putting a hand out to hold himself up on a wooden fence. He doubled over and gasped for breath for several moments before letting his arm give out. His shoulder hit the fence and he slid down to sit on the ground, a tired sigh escaping his lips.

He continued to heave for breath, staring at his shaking hands hanging off his knees, one badly bruised and swelling to the extreme. He hissed in pain and clenched his eyes shut as the adrenaline racing through his system began to die down. “Damn, kid, you look like you’ve seen hell.”

Kyle’s eyes shot up from where he sat to see a man leaning against the opposite fence, staring at him. The young man immediately went to jump to his feet only to wince and stagger as pain lanced through his ankle. He looked down to see his ankle swelling, too, probably twisted sometime during his mad run through the suburbs. “I honestly wouldn't do that if I were you.” The young football star looked up once more in time to see the man push himself to a standing position and walk forward. The man was clearly older with jet black hair streaked with silver, a scraggly goatee matching it on his chin. Purple eyes glinted at him amidst the scared face. A black trench coat trailed to the ground and covered his torso, only allowing the black cargo pants and boots to show through. Not to mention the large, gleaming sword handle resting over his shoulder.

“Just take a seat and relax, kid,” the man said, stopping next to Kyle and leaning against the fence only to slide down into a sitting position. “No need to be all worked up.”

Kyle simply stared at the stranger for a long minute before he finally sat back down. They sat in silence for several moments before the older man spoke up again.

“You really stepped into some deep shit tonight, kid,” he said, unzipping his coat and reaching inside. “No doubt the state’s coming after you, and whether you're found innocent or not, you'll never look at yourself the same again.” The man paused and drew out a cigarette and lighter, putting the white filter to his lips before lighting it. “And with injuries like those, it's going to be hard to keep playing sports, even if they heal correctly.”

The athlete simply stared, horrified at the man as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and blew out a cloud of smoke. The young man opened his mouth to speak the question coming to his mind. “I’m no psychic if that’s what you’re about to ask.” Kyle snapped his mouth closed as the man glanced at him from the corner of his eye and gave a little chuckle before taking another drag from his cigarette. “Nope, not psychic at all. Just done this too many times before.”

Kyle’s eyes screwed up in confusion. “Done wha-”

“Sit in the dark with some kid, seeming to know all the answers when really,” the man interrupted, pausing to turn his full gaze on the young adult next to him. “All I know is what you want right now. Everything else is just the evidence that supports that fact.”

“Supports what fact?” Kyle questioned hotly, clearly beginning to become irritated by the man’s confusing words. The stranger only gave a little grin at that and turned away before taking yet another drag, the embers and ash at the end flaring.

The man took the cigarette from his lips much more slowly this time around, letting the smoke stream from his open mouth. “The fact that you’ve wanted to leave for over a year now,” he said, starting to stand to his feet. “And now… you need to.”

The young man stared up and the coated figure, eyes burning with questions. “How… how did you know that?” He asked, wobbly starting to get up as well. “If you’re not psychic and you know that… then what the hell are you?” The stranger turned his intense purple gaze onto the college athlete, Kyle only just now noticing how the irises shifted like deep oceans.

“A Displacer.” The words were simple enough, but the power that lanced through them was enough to stagger the young man. “And I’m here to give you what you want.”

Kyle stared up at him, hand planted firmly against the fence behind him to keep him standing. “You’re… a Displacer?” The young man questioned, the void-dweller nodding in response.

“I’ve been watching you,” the Displacer said, reaching up and lifting the sword belt over his head until he held the sheathed blade in his hand. “Ever since that day you first confronted that other Displacer… and now I’m glad I did.” The black haired being let his eyes fall to the sword in his hand before he drew the blade out, Kyle’s eyes staring at the sparkling edge. He flinched as the being twisted the sword until the handle was held out to him.

“Hold this for me for a second, kid,” the void-dweller said, the young man doing as he was bid. The Displacer raised the sheath and overturned it, holding one hand underneath the opening of the scabbard, shaking it a few times until something fell into his hand. Kyle blinked as he looked closer, the Displacer moving the sheath away to show off the morpher the athlete had made for his cosplay, the dark green buckle nestling the golden morpher in its embrace, the colored patterns shining green on the top half and white on the bottom, the Drakkon power coin sitting proudly in the center.

“How did you…?” The young man trailed off, taking the morpher as the Displacer held the device out to him. The coin in the center sparked with power as it came into contact with his hand, white and green electricity running over it.

The void-dweller seemed to grin a bit brighter at that. “It’s not the same one as the you made,” he explained, nodding towards the device. “Why don’t you give it a shot?”

Kyle’s eyes shot from the morpher in his hand to the being before him in surprise. “You’re serious?” the college student questioned, handing the Displacer’s sword back to him as he reached for it.

“Very,” the being said, putting his sword away and slipping the strap back over his head. “But know this. If you take this step now, there is no going back. You will be Displaced and once that happens, there is no coming back.”

The young man stared up at the Displacer for a few moments. “...It’s like you said,” Kyle said, taking the power buckle from its holder and putting the casing to his back where it attached itself to his belt. “There’s nothing else for me here.” He flipped the handle out and held it tightly in his right hand so the power coin was upside down before bringing it up to his left shoulder. “It’s morphin’ time!” He windmilled his arms until the power buckle was at his waist, left across his body before he threw both hands forward, twisting his right fist right side up before twisting his wrist so the power coin was right side up, his left hand held behind it with fingers spread out.

Green and white electricity shot from the morpher as the top and bottom flared out. “Drakkon Power!” The young man cried before the morpher turned into energy and slammed into the ground as he threw his arms down, the flash of energy it produced leaving Kyle in the Drakkon armor, a ghost of the helmet appearing to face him before it flared with energy and materialized on his head.

The morphing sequence was over in the blink of an eye, Kyle standing in the alleyway in the armor of Lord Drakkon. The young man clenched his fist and unclenched it, raising the gloved appendage to his visor. “This is…”

“Incredible.” The red visor turned to look towards the Displacer, who had only sat back and watched the spectacle with crossed arms. The void-dweller uncrossed his arms and took a few steps forwards. “...You remember what I said, don’t you?”

Lines of energy covered the helmet before it faded away from Kyle’s head. “I do,” the young man answered, reaching a hand out as the being stopped in front of him before taking his hand. “Does that mean….?”

“The deal is done,” the Displacer confirmed with a nod, taking his hand back from the shake. “And it is time for you to be on your way.” Kyle nodded and stepped back, ready for what was to come. However, as the Displacer raised his fingers to snap them together, the man’s eyes suddenly widened.

“Wait!” The void-dweller paused at the young man’s cry, lowering his hand a little. “I… don’t even know your name.”

The Displacer stared at him for a long while before a grin grew on his face and he closed his eyes and shook his head in amusement. “I am called Soldier,” the Displacer answered, opening his shifting purple eyes before lifting his fingers once more. “And you, Kyle Fawkes, have a ride to catch.” With that, Soldier finally snapped his fingers and a portal opened up at the student’s feet. The newly created Displaced looked at the portal before taking a deep breath and steeling his features. He lifted a boot and stepped forward, ready for what was to come.

“KYLE!” The cry jolted the young man’s gaze up in time to see Soldier turn towards the shrill shout as well. What the Displacer’s move revealed was a little girl at the end of the alleyway, eyes puffy and red while tear stains ran down her face.

The armored ranger stared at the little girl, eyes confused. “...Kira?” He questioned before he adjusted his step to go over the portal… only for the boundary of the dimensional gap to widen and his boot to slip through empty space. The man’s eyes widened in surprise, falling forward as he reached a hand out. “Kira!” He shouted as he began to fall, everything seeming to slow down as Soldier began to turn towards him and his sister started to run towards them.

He watched as the Displacer’s eyes widened, the void-dweller starting to reach his hand out and drop to his knees to catch the Displaced, all the while Kira growing closer. Kyle looked up at Soldier, desperately reaching his hand out with pleading eyes to grab hold of the lifeline the being was holding out to him. Their hands grew closer and closer… until their fingertips brushed against each other and time returned to normal. Kyle let out a yell as he fell, feeling his body tumble through the air so he could see out of the portal. His sister’s cry of, “Kyle!” followed him as he descended, vision fading away as he saw the girl try to jump after him only to be stopped by Soldier as the portal began to close….

Author's Note

Like I said before, new Displaced story. I won't be saying too much about it just because this is pretty much just a side project. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy and if you have anything to add, leave a comment below. Until the next one, everybody take care!