Green With Evil Epilogue

Green With Evil - Epilogue

It was over. Her Green Ranger had been taken from her at the moment when it had looked certain that In her dark, moonlit throne room, Rita Repulsa paced furiously, her staff clattering on the cold stone floor with every step. The green glow of her scrying orb cast eerie shadows on the walls, flickering in rhythm with her turbulent emotions. Her teeth clenched, her fingers tightened around her staff, and her voice dripped with venomous fury.

"Curse that boy! Curse Zordon! Curse them all!" she snarled, her voice echoing through the cavernous chamber. "I gave Tommy everything! Power beyond his wildest dreams! Strength no mere human could comprehend! And what does he do? He betrays me! Runs back to those goody-goody Power Rangers like a simpering fool!"

She slammed her staff against the ground, the sharp crack reverberating like a thunderclap. "I should have destroyed him the moment I suspected his will was breaking. I could've sent Goldar, Scorpina—anyone—to finish him off while he was weak. But no. I hesitated. Why did I hesitate?!"

Her voice faltered, and she paused, pressing her clawed hand to her temple. Thoughts of Tommy flooded her mind—not just of his betrayal, but of his strength, his raw potential, and the fierce determination that had once made him her greatest weapon. She shook her head violently, trying to banish the images.

"This is madness," she muttered to herself, her tone quieter but no less anguished. "Why can't I just forget him? Why do I keep thinking about... about bringing him back? It would be so much simpler to destroy him outright, to rid myself of the thorn in my side. So why—"

"Because you're not a fool," a voice interrupted, smooth and resonant, seeming to emerge from nowhere and everywhere at once.

Rita froze, her staff clutched tightly in her hand. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for the source. "Who dares to invade my sanctum?" she demanded, her voice sharp and commanding, though tinged with unease. "Show yourself!"

"There's no need to shout," the voice replied, calm and almost amused. "I warned you this would happen, didn't I? When you chose Tommy as your Green Ranger."

The words struck Rita like a blow. Her brow furrowed, and her grip on the staff slackened slightly. "You..." she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You were the one who... But I never agreed to—"

"To what?" the voice interrupted smoothly. "To listen? To understand? No, Rita, you didn't. And that's why you failed."

The air seemed to grow heavier, pressing down on Rita like an invisible weight. She turned toward the scrying orb, as though expecting to see the speaker there, but it remained empty, swirling with green and gold mist.

"You dare to call me a failure?" she hissed, her anger flaring anew. "I am Rita Repulsa, Empress of Evil! I command armies, conjure storms, and crush entire worlds under my heel!"

"And yet," the voice replied, its tone turning cold, "a single boy slipped through your grasp. A boy who could have been your greatest triumph."

Rita recoiled as though struck, her face contorting in a mixture of rage and confusion. "I chose Tommy because he was strong," she snapped. "Because he had potential. Because he—"

"Because he was the only choice," the voice cut in, firm but not unkind. "You saw it yourself. His strength, his ambition, his hunger to prove himself. He was perfect, Rita. But you made a crucial mistake."

Rita's lips curled into a sneer. "Oh, do enlighten me, oh wise and invisible critic."

"Did you really think that a spell placed upon a cheap imitation of the Sword of Darkness would be sufficient to tie someone as stubborn as Tommy Oliver to your will for long?" The voice's tone was almost mocking now. "The moment the sword broke, so did the effects of the spell. But tell me this, Rita: If your magic was so weak, why did he remain obedient for so long? Unless..."

"Unless what?" Rita snapped, her voice brimming with frustration.

"Unless a part of him welcomed the darkness you offered," the voice replied, its words cutting like a knife. "Did you ever consider that? That perhaps, deep down, Tommy craved the freedom, the power, the release you gave him? That part of him still might?"

Rita hesitated, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to respond. The voice fell silent for a moment, as though savouring her discomfort. Finally, Rita found her words.

"So what are you saying?" she asked, her tone quieter, almost uncertain. "That I should... what? Try to reclaim him? Entice him to return willingly?"

"Exactly," the voice said, its tone softening. "Tommy isn't meant to be a servant, Rita. He's meant to be a partner. An equal."

"An equal?" Rita spat, whirling around as though the voice had materialised before her. "I am Rita Repulsa! I bow to no one, least of all a child!"

"No one said anything about bowing," the voice replied. "This is about power. And if you truly want to wield the greatest power, you must first learn to share it."

Rita hesitated, her gaze flickering to the scrying orb. The images of Tommy filled it once more—his strength, his determination, his defiance. She clenched her fists, torn between her hatred of his betrayal and the undeniable truth of his potential.

"And what if he refuses?" she demanded. "What if he—"

"Then you destroy him," the voice said, its tone turning sharp and decisive. "But not before you've given him the chance to see the truth. Not before you've shown him the power he could wield by your side."

Rita stared into the orb, her expression unreadable. The voice fell silent, allowing her a moment to process its words. Finally, she straightened, her grip on her staff tightening once more.

"Fine," she said, her voice low but resolute. "I'll give him the chance. But if he spurns me again, I'll make him wish he'd never been born."

"Good," the voice said, a hint of warmth returning to its tone. "I knew you'd see reason. And Rita..."

"Yes?" she said, her tone impatient.

"This isn't about servitude," the voice said gently. "It's about partnership. You don't need another mindless slave or bumbling underling. You NEED an equal. Trust me that when you succeed and Tommy is once more at your side, you will reign supreme."

For a moment, Rita's eyes flickered with confusion. The voice carried an unexpected hint of fondness, a strange and unsettling familiarity. She opened her mouth as if to question it but stopped herself. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. All that mattered was reclaiming what she had lost—and seizing the power that had eluded her.

She shrugged off the unease and turned away from the orb. "We'll see," she muttered under her breath. "We'll see."

The voice chuckled once more, its tone filled with anticipation. "Oh, we will indeed."

And in another place a solitary figure looked out upon his domain and smiled cruelly at what was about to come.

"Poor Tommy," he murmured, unable to hide his amusement. "Courted by Rita Repulsa... I almost feel sorry for you."

End