A monstrous, eldritch figure in white armor loomed in the endless void, its body a canvas of swirling galaxies and collapsing stars. Its presence alone twisted the laws of reality, and its hunger was insatiable. Realms, universes, and timelines were drawn into its cavernous, ever-hungering maw—whole civilizations devoured in an instant, their screams lost in the cold, omnipresent silence of the void.
This being… was Drakkon—the devourer of realities, the god of unmaking.
[PIC HERE]
In his clawed hand, he held a molten spear that seethed with the fury of dying suns, each swing of the weapon shattering the multiversal fabric like fragile glass.
Then suddenly—
BOOOOM!!!
A titanic beam of radiant light exploded across the void, striking Drakkon square in the face. He reeled back, his jaws snapping shut, and with his movement came a seismic rupture that fractured space and time itself.
Hovering amidst the void was a man clad in red armor, glowing with the ancient power of the Morphin Grid. His voice echoed like thunder.
"DRAKKON! I WILL END YOU!"
Beside him, figures clad in vibrant colors emerged one by one, each resonating with immeasurable power—multiversal warriors, the last line of defense.
Drakkon growled, a low, mocking laugh escaping his throat.
"Hahahaha… Jason Lee Scott," he sneered, "you and your pitiful little brigade of rainbow warriors. Ants screaming into the wind, swatting at a storm. Do you truly believe your defiance matters?"
[Pic here]
Another ranger stepped forward, this one clad in a sleek black exo-suit with prehistoric sigils pulsing across its surface. His eyes narrowed with fury.
[Pic here]
"You've annihilated entire timelines, devoured the innocent! What else could you possibly want?!"
Drakkon grinned, revealing rows of interdimensional fangs.
"Want?" he echoed, almost amused. "Tommy Oliver, you still cling to mortal concepts like want. I am the embodiment of oblivion. I desire evil, despair, corruption—not only in what exists, but in what has never existed, and what shall never come to pass. I shall become the very source of entropy… when I unravel the secrets of the Morphin Grid itself!"
Reality convulsed with his proclamation.
Then a voice, familiar yet distant, joined in—a figure cloaked in a black-and-gray suit, half-machine, half-phantom. The air around him buzzed with residual energy.
"We won't let you get away with this. Even if it costs us everything."
Drakkon turned, a wicked sneer growing on his face.
"Ahh… the Phantom Ranger. Or should I say… Morphinaut? My most loyal little tool. You served your purpose, puppet. Stay in your corner and rot."
[Pic here]
Jason stepped forward again, eyes blazing.
"We're not afraid of you anymore, Drakkon. The Morphin Masters will stop you. Your reign ends here!"
Drakkon's expression twisted with loathing at the mention of the emissaries.
"The Masters? Ha! I have crushed dozens of their kind. They are insects dressed in cosmic garb—unfit to even gaze upon me! I am beyond fate, beyond balance! I AM DRAKKON! I AM SUPREME!!"
Suddenly, the eldritch being raised his molten spear to the heavens, and a ripple of malice tore through the void. A dimensional rift opened above them, spewing forth grotesque creatures—eldritch horrors from collapsed timelines, twisted parodies of Zords and Rangers long forgotten. A wave of destruction surged toward the Power Rangers.
"DEFEND THE GRID!!!" Jason shouted.
The Rangers launched themselves into battle. Jason charged at Drakkon, fists blazing with crimson energy. The resulting clash shattered dimensions, sending ripples across space-time. Tommy joined the fray, his blade crackling with dimensional lightning, while the Phantom Ranger unleashed concentrated laser barrages from his gauntlet.
Each Ranger, a multiversal force of nature in their own right, struck with all the fury of thousands of lifetimes—but even together, they were barely holding their ground.
Drakkon roared in frustration and lifted a clawed hand.
"Enough games… Time to end this."
From his throne of shadow, he summoned his dark champions—his final aces.
Death Ranger.
Dark Specter.
[Pics here]
A tear opened in the void, and the two infamous traitors burst forth. Death Ranger, wreathed in necrotic energy, struck at Tommy, while Dark Specter, the twisted mirror of the Rangers' own legacy, cackled as he engaged the Phantom Ranger.
Jason found himself alone once again before the beast.
"You just keep coming," Jason muttered. "No matter how many times we cut you down…"
Drakkon snarled, frustration etched on his face. Jason's strength was rising—his connection to the Grid surging unnaturally with every blow exchanged. As if… the Grid itself was responding to his will.
Drakkon thrust his arms to the sky.
"[Annihilation Beam]," he intoned.
From the dark heavens, countless crimson beams rained down, vaporizing monsters, allies, and even corrupted Rangers. The explosion stretched across multiverses—an extinction event on a scale that defied imagination.
When the dust cleared, only six figures remained: Jason, Tommy, Phantom Ranger… and their enemies—Drakkon, Death Ranger, and Dark Specter.
"NOOOO!!!" the surviving Rangers screamed in unison.
Drakkon threw back his head and laughed, the sound void of sanity.
"You thought you had a chance?! I AM THE FINAL TRUTH! I am not some villain to be vanquished—I am the death of legacy, the devourer of destiny!"
Jason turned to his comrades. There were no words, only the mutual understanding of warriors at the edge of their fate. They nodded.
One way left.
Each Ranger reached for their morpher and began channeling their full energy into it—overcharging it beyond all known limits. The Morphin Grid surged in protest, the fabric of reality tearing at the seams.
Just one of these detonations could obliterate multiple universes.
Three together?
Armageddon.
Dark Specter and Death Ranger, sensing the incoming apocalypse, vanished through emergency rifts.
But Drakkon roared in defiance, raising his spear to end them before they could finish.
Too late.
Chains of pure grid-light wrapped around him—Jason holding fast.
"Let's finish this… FOR EVERYONE!!!" he screamed.
Then—
BOOOOOOOOM!!!
The detonation was unlike anything the multiverse had ever experienced. The explosion consumed all—space, time, matter, and void. Jason, Tommy, and the Phantom Ranger were smiling as they disintegrated… as was Drakkon.
For a time, there was nothing.
But slowly… something reformed.
From the ashes of annihilation, Drakkon's essence began to pull itself together. Agonized, broken—but still alive.
"Curse them… CURSE THEM!!!" he screamed. "I had to burn most of my core to survive that… but it matters not. The Rangers are gone. And the Grid… the Grid will be mine!"
He vanished into the unknown.
Moments later, five radiant figures arrived—the Morphin Masters. They surveyed the ruined battlefield with solemn silence. The Red Morphin Master extended his hand.
"[Receive]," he said softly.
From the void, glowing orbs of pure white light drifted to him. Souls. The legacy of heroes.
"All is as it should be," he said.
The Masters nodded in agreement and vanished.
--- ✦ ---
Elsewhere… A Place Beyond the Beyond
(Marvel Universe – The house of ideas)
In a white room devoid of dimension, the Morphin Masters stood before a being with no form—The One Above All.
"Destiny is fulfilled," they intoned. "The old cycle is broken. The new guardians shall rise from the ashes."
TOAA extended his hand, accepting the orbs of light.
"It shall be done."
"May reality be preserved," the Morphin Masters said before fading.
TOAA stood alone in the stillness. Then, quietly:
"This will be… far more chaotic than anticipated."
But neither he nor the Morphin Masters realized:
The true source of the Grid—the OMNIVERSAL GRID—had been watching.
And it, too, had chosen its master. It's champion.
--- ✦ ---
Hello guys. It's your faithful Author, godking11. I have loved Power Rangers since I was little, and wanted to write a more mature version of it. So here we are. Please support me, guys. It would help boost my confidence in writing more chapters.
Throw Power stones, guys!!!