All my life, I've only ever known one thing. Hate. Always hate. Hate is my defense against pain. Hate is what drives me through life. Hate is what gives me power. Hate is what makes me strong. Hate is who I am. Who I always have been. And who I always will be.

I am hate. It's the only emotion I'm comfortable with. I can't think of a good reason to let go of it.

I hate good. All those goody little two-shoes running around in skin tight suits all brightly colored like some demented rainbow. They're all words and no actions. They fight for things like love and friendship.


If they only knew how weak those so called bonds actually were then maybe they'd hate just like me. Then maybe they'd actually be a decent enemy. But they don't. They cling to each other like they're the last people in the universe. Hmph, they might as well be.

Stupid Rangers. All bluff and bluster. They can fight individual battles, but they're useless when defending an entire planet. After all, KO-35 was easily destroyed. That silly Silver Ranger. Did he honestly think he could take down my and my sister's entire army alone? Fool!

My sister and I fooled him ever so easily. All it took was a few words, and a so-called bond of friendship and he was putty in our hands. I laughed at him as I attacked him. I laughed into his masked face. I laughed as I blasted him. I laughed!

So why do I feel so horrible? Why do I feel so ugly and dirty? I've never felt this way before. When I heard he'd somehow survived and managed to escape on the Astro Megaship, I couldn't help but feel…relieved? I felt relieved that my enemy had escaped? Why?

I hate him! I HATE him! So why?

No one knows of my feelings except me. Who would I tell? Ecliptor would sooner lecture me on the qualities of evil and how it dominates all good. Dark Spectre…I'd rather die than tell him of this weakness. The quantrons aren't really good for anything but foot soldiers. There's a good reason why there's no quantron in command. And the monsters that are at by beck and call, they only think of inflicting pain and death upon the enemy I choose.

That leaves my sister. Astronema would understand. She would understand my doubts, though she'd probably lecture me later. But there was absolutely no one I could tell about the secret of the red morpher. How it responded to me. I hate the Rangers, dammit! Why would the morpher choose me as a Ranger? I'm their enemy!

And yet with all of this, why do I feel like I'm missing something? Why do I feel like I've let myself down? I hate this feeling. I HATE it!

And so I set out to conquer this weakness with my hate that burns so hotly. Nurtured like a blacksmith's fire. It burns low and slowly, and all the hotter for it. I will burn that stupid Silver Ranger with this hot blue flame at the heart of my hate. And I will laugh.

I will laugh!

So why do I feel so horrible? And why am I so cold?