He sat upon an obsidian throne, an oversized and square backed chair of smooth black stone lined with ovular opals all along the borders. His posture was one of relaxed boredom, chin propped up on his right hand which leaned on the appropriate arm of his throne, left knee just slightly bent and resting against the utterly ridiculous piece of furniture. He yawned despite the anticipation he felt in his head. Depending on how this day went, it would either be quite good or very bad. Such odds enticed him, as they were the only source of excitement recently.

The room was cold. He kept it that way on purpose. Warm weather made him tired, and exhaustion was the last thing he needed in the hum-drum of ordinary living. Not that his life could be counted as ordinary by any means. But, even people like him had routines, and those were boring. Little breaks in that schedule like the one he was in for on this day were often times the highlight of his week, if not his entire month. Had he the gumption, he would go out of his way to engineer situations like this. However, that sort of thing required effort, and he had spent all of his effort long ago.

Along with cold, he kept the room dimly lit. The main sources of illumination came from a series of hidden red lights in the four corners. They shone up from the floor and reflected off the ceiling, but didn't provide anywhere near enough luminescence for the entire room. There were also plenty of round lights in the ceiling, but more than half of those were turned off. All of this meant the room was just barely bright enough to see without squinting.

Normally, there would be guards in the room. Six would line the stone steps up to his dais, two at each of the landings along the way. There would also be a pair flanking him and another four at the entrance. They were all gone this time, though. He had learned, in his life, the value of presentations. Sometimes that meant showing a powerful hand. Sometimes, it meant the exact opposite. Often, he had to walk a fine line between the two. Some people bowed to power, while others instinctively fought against it. On the other hand, some people appreciated a more down to earth approach. The wishy-washy attitudes of his fellow humans wore him out more than anything else in the world. That's mostly the reason he got along better with his servants than with people. Servants were predictable and direct. They never talked in circles, nor did they lie. They did cheat, but what was a little skulduggery among friends?

He adjusted his balance so that his chin rested on his left hand, instead of the right. In doing so, he almost knocked his headdress against the back of his throne. He let a groan form in the back of his throat. It was a truly ridiculous garment. A flat part across his forehead molded at sharp angles into cheek slats cut into clipped points just below his chin, but that wasn't the bad part. No, what made it annoying were the antlers. They extended a little more than a foot from his temples, where they then jutted upward to above his head. Finally the thing was open on the top so his long brown hair could spill out down to his shoulders.

He had designed it as an, if not much younger man, at least much less mature. Had he known how irritating it would become, he never would have used it. Now, though, it was part of his aesthetic. He couldn't get rid of it, no matter how much he may have wanted to. Thankfully, these days, he could use it in a purely ceremonial role, reserved for the rare appearance he had to make. This was one such occasion.

Technically, this event should've happened sooner, but he made it not to be. This world was under his control. It bowed to him, and everything that happened on it only did so with his permission. So, when his monitoring equipment detected an anomaly in the Morphin Grid, a biological anomaly, he put a stop to it. A simple reagent acted like a cork, plugging up whatever hole of energy this strangeness with the Grid had created. It would hold like that until he deemed it necessary to release.

A deep breath in. He figured that time had probably come. Of course, he could delay even longer, or even decide not to deal with it at all and leave whatever the problem was in permanent limbo. But, what would that solve? A shocking amount, honestly, where his own responsibilities were concerned. Why did ruling a world have to be so tedious?

He reached into his long black cloak and pulled out a thin vial filled with sparkling blue liquid. He held it up to his eyes, admiring it. Such a beautiful concoction, a feat of alchemy thought impossible only a few years ago. That was the great thing about science, it constantly evolved. Knowledge was his greatest weapon, and since he had the most powerful knowledge known to mankind, no one could stop him.

With a flick of his index finger, he tossed away the vial. It shattered a few feet away upon the dais where his throne sat. Glass and thick blue covered the dark stones for a split-second before they erupted in a bright flash of light matching the color of the potion. When it subsided a moment later, in its place were two people. On his right lay a well-built Asian man, average of height but broad a the shoulders and quite muscular beneath his black tank top. On the other side lay an African-American woman, who's long hair draped over slightly chubby cheeks and brushed a pink hoodie.

"What happened? What is this place?" The Asian man asked.

"Ah, stop shouting," responded the woman, nursing her likely throbbing head.

"Who are you?" The man asked.

"I could ask you the same question," the woman fired back.

"Please, both of you be still," said the man in the chair. "I'm sure you have many questions, but rest assured that I will answer all of them."

"Oh yeah?" Asked the woman as they both stood up. "And just who would you be?"

"My name, Shelby Watkins, is Avanth. I am the ruler of this world and, before you ask, yes I was the one who brought you here," explained the man from his throne.

"Alright, Avanth, you have three seconds to explain how you know my name," Shelby said, taking a step closer.

"Well, you're quite famous in this time. So are you, Adam Park. All of the Power Rangers are well known, these days," Avanth said.

"Power Rangers?" Adam asked, incredulous. "You mean those guys who run around in technicolor spandex? Please, you'd never catch me in one of those."

Avanth held up a hand to placate him. "There's no need for the charade, Black Ranger. I mean you no harm. I assure you, my intentions are pure."

"If your intentions are so pure," Shelby mocked him, "then why bring us here in the first place? I mean, this is technically kidnapping."

"I know," Avanth said. "I'm sorry to rip you away from your loved ones. I realize this must be a difficult situation for you both. I wouldn't have disturbed you at all if I had any other choice, but you see, I need your help."

"Alright, talk," prompted Adam.

"Wait, you actually wanna listen to him?" Shelby challenged.

"We're stuck here anyway," reasoned Adam. "Might as well hear him out."

Shelby crossed her arms, cocked her stance to one side, and gave Avanth an annoyed look. Although she didn't say anything in the affirmative, she also didn't try to talk back anymore. Avanth had to physically stop himself from sighing. Why did it have to be these two? Why not Billy, or Kendrix, or literally anyone else easier to deal with? A split-second of cursing his fortunes, and Avanth began his explanation.

"Thank you, Adam. As I said, my name is Avanth. As for where you are, well, it might be more appropriate for me to tell you when you are. The current year is 2600. You, right now, are in the future."

"Really? The future?" Adam scoffed.

"You expect me to believe that? What, is that chair really a time machine or something?" Shelby echoed his disbelief.

Avanth held up a hand again. "Maybe if I tell you another truth, you'll believe me. I need your help to bring order back to the world."

Avanth reached into his cloak and pulled out a little lens no bigger than the palm of his hand. A touch of a button on the side, and a series of silent videos began to project up from the device. These seconds-long films showed images of beautiful scenery, average people, happy friends and family, the typical propaganda not unlike—and he hated to admit this—a tourism commercial.

"As the leader of the Earth, I helped usher in an age of peace and prosperity for the people. Under my rule, humanity has flourished. It is a golden age, the likes of which our people has never known before. However, for some this isn't good enough. There are those who wish to see all of my progress undone."

Avanth pressed another button, and the videos playing changed. Instead of joy, they showed despair. Images of monsters patrolling the streets, taking hostages and inflicting violence on the population. He showed burnt down buildings, old battlefields, ruined towns, general mayhem and destruction.

"These rebels fight me at every turn. They use lies, deception, and guerrilla warfare to usurp the peace I have worked so hard to create. They even went so far as to poison the Morphin Grid." Avanth let this piece of information sink in, delighted at the confused darkness of the faces of his guests. "That's right. They knew the Power Rangers would never let their antics stand, so they removed the very source of their strength. With the Grid weakened, the Power Rangers could no longer morph. Then, the rebels overwhelmed and destroyed them."

Avanth covered his mouth and looked away. He did his best to mask this as sadness, when in reality, he smiled behind his hand. The atmosphere in the room shifted, all at once denser and tinged with dread. Maybe his guests didn't fully believe him just yet, but the mere implications of what he just said were enough to fill them with despair.

"What..." Shelby briefly glanced at Adam. "What does this have to do with us?"

"I'm sorry to say this, Shelby, but I think you may be part of their master plan. One of the rebels stole a stabilizing agent from me, and then immediately afterward I detected some strange energy surges in the Morphin Grid. I interfered and redirected some of that energy here, and you two came out. Seeing that the disturbance was people, there's only one conclusion I can come to. There are ancient and powerful Morphers in this time called the Mythos Morphers. The rebels must have built a time machine to assemble an elite team of Power Rangers to find the Mythos Morphers bring me down."

"Wait, that doesn't make sense," Adam said. "Why bother with a time machine? Why not find people from this time?"

"I believe they're trying to stack the deck. After all, one Ranger team has already been defeated. I think they want to fast-track their plans by bringing in tried and true veterans to do her bidding." Avanth gave his honest assessment of the rebellion's motivations.

"Okay, then, why do they need Morphers? I thought you said the Grid is too weak to let Rangers morph anymore," Shelby said.

"That's mostly correct, but the Mythos Morphers are very old, built with a different kind of technology. They were made to have a deeper connection to the Morphin Grid, and because of that, they're the only Morphers strong enough to facilitate successful Morphs," Avanth explained.

"I see," Adam said. "You still haven't explained what this has to do with us, though. Not really, anyway. So some crazies are trying to overthrow you. So they want these Morphers. How dos that involve us? Why do you specifically need our help?"

"I'll put it bluntly, Adam. I need your help to stop the rebellion. I can't fight them and also govern a planet all on my own. I need the both of you to collect the Mythos Morphers and bring them down. These radicals cannot be allowed to have them. That's what I need you for," Avanth said. He thought he did a pretty good job sounding full of conviction. He even worked in a slight pleading tone to his voice, something he wasn't sure about his ability to do. Overall, this was going well.

"You know," Shelby began, "this is all well and good, and all, except for one thing."

"What's that?" Prompted Avanth.

"I don't believe you," she said flatly.

"What?" Avanth recoiled as if she'd struck him. "You don't believe me? After everything I've told you, everything I showed you? I'm just trying to save the world, here."

"Do I really need to spell it out?" Shelby said. "You look like a bad guy. I mean, just look at that stupid hat! I see people social media all the time asking how the Power Rangers know who their enemies are. It's because they all look evil. You look evil."

"Yeah," Adam echoed immediately. "I'm... not sure I know what social media is, but I was thinking the same thing. Most of the monsters I've brought down looked a lot like you do right now."

"You know what I think? I think you're the problem. You're not a ruler, you're a dictator. Those monsters we saw arresting people—who look just like you, by the way—are your minions. I think you destroyed the Power Rangers," Shelby said.

"I'm beginning to doubt this rebellion even exists," added Adam. "Or all that nonsense about the Morhpin Grid, for that matter. We might not even be in the future."

"He was right about one thing, though." Shelby said to Adam. "I am a veteran Ranger. So, Avanth, unless you want to see what a real Power Ranger can do, I suggest you put us back to where we came from."

Avanth let out that sigh he'd been holding in and closed his eyes tight. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this. I really wanted to do things the proper way." He looked at his guests. "You see, I don't like controlling people. I don't like having to use my power to get my way, but you two just couldn't cooperate. You just had to be free thinkers. You leave me no choice."

He reached into his cloak to deposit the lens back where it came from. When his hand came back out, he held between his fingers a thin vial of a thick green liquid. Shelby and Adam tensed when he did so. They both knew enough to realize whatever he had in his hand was not good. They moved to grab it from him, but neither was anywhere near fast enough. With speed so fast a normal human wouldn't even be able to perceive it, Avanth tossed the vial at their feet. The glass shattered on impact with the hard stone. The liquid inside turned to vapor on contact with the air.

Shelby and Adam in near perfect unison grasped at their throats and began to cough, defensive dry heaves in desperate attempts to fight whatever this gas was. Their bodies, however, did not know Avanth's special concoction relied not on inhalation, but on absorption through the skin. He'd already thought about the human body's natural defensive mechanisms, and worked out a way around them.

After only several seconds of this, Adam and Shelby stopped their coughing. A flash of energy the same color of the gas projected out from, and then coalesced inside, both of them. Their eyes shone green for a second, a color which dissipated to collect upon their irises. With their new eye colors cemented, they straightened up. The two of them exchanged glances, as if confused by what just happened. Avanth cleared his throat to get their attention. When their gazes fixed upon him, both snapped into kneeling positions.

"Master Avanth," Shelby said.

"Forgive our rudeness," added Adam.

"Oh, please stand up." Avanth waved them away. "I don't like it when people bow to me. Makes me feel too tall."

Shelby and Adam looked at each other again, clearly confused. But, they still followed instructions. They got to their feet, all the time still looking at Avanth. They never met his eyes, however, a show of respect and subservience. Excellent. The green potion worked wonders.

"What would you ask of us, Master?" Adam begged.

"The rebellion is assembling a team of Power Rangers to overthrow us. As we speak, they are searching for the Mythos Morphers. They probably already have the one in London. I want you to split up and find the other ones before they can. Talk to Tracker, one of my fiends outside. He can give you all the maps you need."

"As you wish, Master," Shelby said with a bow of her head.

With that, the two of them turned and began to descend the stairs. As he watched them go, Avanth stopped the most cliché of evil laughs from escaping his lips. He had to have some sense of decorum as an evil overlord. A healthy bit of cringe was the fix for what would have been a gaudy and unbecoming moment.

He cursed his sense of morality, the belief that he didn't need to lie, manipulate, and use alchemy to get what he wanted. It was what got him this far. Why go against methods he knew to be perfectly practical and effective? The saying went: If it isn't broken, then don't fix it. Avanth really had to stop trying to be the bigger man. Hadn't he already gained enough power to be far beyond that?

Bygones. At this point, none of that mattered. He had what he wanted, one way or another, and soon the remaining Mythos Morphers would be his to control. When they were all his, nothing could stand against him. He would finally have complete control. He would finally conquer the world, once and for all. All he needed was a little deception, a little alchemy, and a couple of bewitched Power Rangers. He allowed himself a tiny giggle. After all, it was kinda funny.