POWER RANGERS:

SUPER MEGAFORCE-THE NOVEL

WRITTEN BY ZARIUS

Disclaimer: This is an adaptation of the first episode of Power Rangers Super Megaforce, "Super Megaforce", which was originally written for television by James W. Bates, though there is a unique interpretation of the dialogue and additional content by me that is original to this take. This adaptation is intended for fun and not for profit.

For more information on the original characters I am using for this adaptation, feel free to read my novelization of Mega Mission.

Power Rangers, Power Rangers Super Megaforce, and all related characters, and weapons, are trademarked by Saban Capital Group and Nickelodeon respectively


CHAPTER ONE:

LIFE FINDS A WAY


Samuel Fraser knew one certainty about life.

It finds a way.

A way of coping with problems. A way of resolving conflict.

A way of expressing how it feels.

Samuel recognized how much of life was in him, he cast his mind back to the event from last night.

They were all glad he came that evening, given the circumstances, a man worse off in confidence and feeling would turn the invite down, but not him. No trace of pride in him could afford a dent.

He masked the pain well; he kept the chips firmly off of his shoulders. This was not the time for a pity party, but to be the life of it.

His best friend, the one he had pined for, the one who turned him down and who had been in infrequent contact with him since, had acquired a roommate, it wasn't him, and he was entirely fine with that.

The last time he had spoken to her, she was in good spirits, having been to a few conventions local to the area and just one rock festival outside of the city. The conversations had put him in an elated mood, and his focus on other projects in life was now substantially sharper.

He still loved her, still cared for her, but he was happy that she was living life at a great pace; it was encouraging him to take charge, and to take things less slowly.

Life should never be permitted to have moments that nullify its importance.

After brushing his teeth, he sat down to have breakfast. Being a bit of a night owl he didn't mind that it was fairly late in the afternoon. All the more energy for another night out with his more consistent friends, friends who had time for him and who never thought him to be 'inappropriate'.

He took out some Shredded Wheat, the breakfast of champions. He was tempted to pour in milk, but cast his mind back to a buddy of his who said the taste was so much better without it.

Of course, this same buddy had an incredibly gross habit of regurgitating the chewed up cereal onto a spoon and putting it back in his mouth all over again.

Sam opted to skim over that last bit, and take the first bit of advice, and proceeded to take the Shredded Wheat without milk.

He walked over to the portable television and switched it on, hoping to catch the news.

As soon as he did, he stopped cold.

His eyes widened, his jaw dropped.

Destruction.

Everywhere.

Nothing but destruction everywhere.

To be more specific, everywhere in the south end of the city.

Where his best friend lived.

"You are seeing incredible images from what can only be described as an invasion the like of which has not been since the events of 1998" said a solemn but composed newscaster, "Approximately thirty minutes ago, wave after wave of attacks came in from what eyewitnesses describe as porcupine-shaped spacecraft raining down bright blue laser fire down onto the south end of the city. From these ships have emerged strange silver foot soldiers with large beefeater-like heads and Xs on their chests. They are advancing on the areas already reduced to rubble by the vessels. The Mayor has encouraged all citizens in the Northern sector of the city to seek shelter before the second wave turns its attention to that area"

Samuel tried to process things, come to terms with what had happened, and to hold back any torrent of emotion that could threaten to compromise him in moments of clarity. He had to be strong, for his friends and family.

If there was one thing he was confident in, is that his friend, his love, would not lay down when her life was threatened. She would find a way to cope, and to charge through this. She would survive.

He had to believe that.

A series of loud marching footsteps from outside made him turn; he ran to the window of his apartment and looked outside.

Hoards of those silver creatures were marching through the area, and towards his building.

"So much for my afternoon jog" he joked to himself, at a time where comedy couldn't afford to take precipice.

He had to think of something now, and not just a means to escape by himself. He shared an apartment with over thirty other citizens, all of whom had a right to as much out of life as him.

While his attitude to life, that it always found a way, remained prevalent, Samuel knew that in order for that way to be truly found, it had to be implemented by the willing resolve of a strategist.

Such a pity then that he had never been terribly good at that. Still, if he could wing it well enough, nobody would hopefully notice. Unless they were better qualified to judge.

Which, given the amount of time people spend on online Wartime games, was probably a certainty.

Still, there was little point thinking about the ramifications to his public image, true life beckoned, and it needed to find a way.

A way out.