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I'll Be The Red Ranger - Chapter 153: Arriving at the Training Camp
🕑 Added 2025-01-31 00:00:05 +0000 UTC- Oliver -
However, when he looked at the wallet again, it was no longer in his hand. Instead, a sleek, metallic card with an hourglass marking and some words was in his palm.
"See you soon."
‘Fucking hell! What do they want with me?!’ Oliver's thoughts raced as he hurled the card into a nearby trash receptacle. Panic tightened its grip on him. ‘I can't carry this with me—they might try to teleport something else through it. Maybe even another bomb.’
An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach as he wondered if anyone had witnessed him disposing of the card. But before it hit the bottom of the bin, the card transformed into a blank piece of paper, dissolving any evidence. Oliver's eyes darted around the bustling terminal, suspicion gnawing at him.
‘Are they watching me?’ he thought, growing increasingly anxious about what the Children of the Past wanted from him.
With no answers and a mounting sense of urgency, Oliver decided to proceed to the teleport station. ‘They won't be able to follow me there,’ he assured himself, quickening his pace.
He began weaving through the crowd, gently pushing past when necessary, his focus solely on reaching his teleport gate as swiftly as possible.
Upon reaching the designated chamber, he found two attendants awaiting him. One was assisting travelers with their final preparations, while the other monitored the control panels that managed the intricate teleportation processes.
"Destination?" the young woman by the door asked, her eyes scanning him briefly.
Without a word, Oliver handed her the metallic card that Stewart had given him earlier.
"Ah, specific coordinates. One moment," she said, examining the card. A hint of curiosity flashed in her eyes, but she quickly masked it. She stepped away, entering the teleportation control room to deliver his card.
Moments later, she returned and nodded reassuringly. " You're all set. You can step onto the center of the platform," she instructed.
Oliver moved onto the platform, the familiar hum of the teleportation grid resonating beneath his feet. The air crackled with energy, and he braced himself for the disorienting sensation that accompanied instantaneous travel. As the system powered up, the world around him dissolved into a cascade of light.
A heartbeat later, his vision blurred momentarily, and he steadied himself, the aftereffects of the teleportation less harsh than before. Blinking away the haze, he found himself under an endless expanse of crystalline blue sky.
Stretching out before him was a vast, snowy tundra—a stark wilderness of snow that seemed to extend to the horizons. Dominating the landscape was a colossal base, rising like a monolith. Its metallic structures pierced the skyline, defying the biting winds and relentless cold. The facility's angular architecture gave it an imposing presence, steel and concrete glinting under the pale sunlight.
Gale-force winds whipped across the plains. The temperature was brutally low, even with his NEA uniform. Oliver pulled his jacket tighter, his breath fogging the air as he exhaled sharply.
"Welcome to the middle of nowhere," he muttered under his breath.
Oliver noticed there was no protective dome arching above him. The vast expanse of open sky stretched above him—a canvas of swirling gray clouds heavy with the promise of snow. ‘We're still on Earth,’ he realized. ‘In a setting like this, we must be in the Arctic or somewhere similar.’
Without a second thought, he activated his Blue Ranger Armor. The suit hummed softly as it enveloped him, internal regulators adjusting to the frigid temperatures. The biting cold of the arctic wind lessened as the armor's thermal layers insulated his body, allowing him to move more freely across the snowy terrain.
"I've never used teleportation to a specific coordinate before," Oliver mused, his breath forming a mist inside his helmet. "I always thought I'd be arriving at another teleport hub." He trudged forward, each footstep crunching in the thick snow that blanketed the ground, his boots leaving precise imprints behind.
Lifting his gaze, he took in the sight of the base ahead. Massive towers rose like sentinels from the frozen tundra, their surfaces slick with ice and rimed with frost. They pierced the low-hanging clouds, shrouded in a haze of freezing vapor that clung to the structures and twisted in the wind—visible even from a considerable distance.
Outside, small teams of soldiers and officers moved with purpose around the perimeter. Clad in advanced thermal suits, they navigated the snow-covered grounds, their figures dwarfed by the immensity of the installation. Their movements were efficient, almost mechanical, and their faces obscured by visored helmets. Walkways and bridges connected the different sections of the base, illuminated by amber LED panels that flickered intermittently, casting a warm glow against the icy backdrop.
‘This doesn't look like a standard training base,’ he thought. ‘More like a fortress—a stronghold for one of the divisions.’
Oliver pressed on, making his way toward one of the entrances. A wide ramp led up to towering gates reinforced with layers of alloy and embedded with security scanners. Two officers occupied a guardhouse adjacent to the gate, their attention fixed on the expansive whiteness beyond. Encased in heavy gear, their identities were concealed, but Oliver imagined the stoic expressions they wore beneath—perhaps tinged with boredom from the monotony of their watch.
"Name and Identifier," one of them demanded as he approached, the voice emanating from the helmet modulator carrying a flat, robotic tone.
"Oliver Nameless. Blue Ranger, ZX7429," he recited clearly, standing straight before the guards.
The officer consulted a holographic display that materialized before him, fingers gliding over virtual keys as he verified the information. Data lines scrolled rapidly, reflected in faint blue light on the surface of his visor.
There was a moment of silence, punctuated only by the distant howl of the wind. Finally, the officer gave a curt nod. "Confirmed. You may enter."
As the immense gates groaned open, sliding apart to reveal the path beyond, Oliver stepped through. Instead of leading upward, a vast ramp descended into the earth, the incline gentle but unmistakable. The pathway was lined with soft lights embedded in the walls, guiding the way downward into the subterranean depths.
An officer approached Oliver with purposeful strides, his boots clanking softly against the metal floor of the underground corridor. "Oliver?" he inquired, his gaze steady beneath the brim of his cap.
"Yes?" Oliver replied, turning to face him.
"Please deactivate your armor," the officer requested, his tone polite but firm. "Fortress operating protocol."
"Oh, sure," Oliver responded, a hint of confusion in his voice. He hadn't expected this, but he complied without hesitation.
"Welcome to the Sixth Ranger Division," the officer said, a subtle smile touching his lips as he gestured for Oliver to follow.
"Sixth Division?" Oliver echoed, eyebrows knitting together in puzzlement. "I wasn't aware there was a Sixth Division."
"That's by design," the officer explained as they walked down the vast corridor. "Few know of our existence. We report directly to the Emperor himself. Membership is by invitation only, and we utilize specialized Z Crystals that are not available to other divisions."
‘An elite squad, then,’ Oliver thought to himself.
"We're the only division maintaining a base on Earth," the officer continued. "Given our mandate—to act as humanity's last line of defense and to protect the Emperor—we require a secure and strategic location."
He spoke as though giving a tour, his voice echoing slightly in the expansive space. They continued descending the long ramp.
Even without his armor's environmental controls, Oliver no longer felt the biting Arctic chill. The fortress's carefully regulated internal climate was a stark contrast to the frozen wasteland above.
"Oh, and just to reiterate," the officer added, glancing back at Oliver, "all information you're receiving is classified. The same confidentiality applies to the mission details you'll be entrusted with."
"Understood," Oliver affirmed with a nod.
"Excellent. The General will start the mission briefing shortly," the officer said. As they navigated deeper into the fortress, he continued to point out various features—training halls, tactical planning rooms, and dormitories. The facility's design became increasingly complex, resembling the inner workings of a colossal machine.
They arrived at a central atrium where the structure opened up, revealing a vast open shaft that descended further into the earth. Walkways and platforms spiraled around the central column, connecting various levels. The effect was reminiscent of a silo but on a scale that defied simple comparison.
The officer led Oliver to one of the entryways on the highest accessible floor. "Through here," he indicated. "Please enter that room and line up with the others. The General will arrive shortly."
"Thank you," Oliver said, stepping through the doorway.
Inside, the space was modest yet functional. Rows of chairs faced a central podium equipped with holographic projection capabilities. Along one wall stood five individuals, each at attention, their gazes fixed ahead.
Oliver joined them, taking his place at the end of the line. He stood straight, hands at his sides, eyes forward. A sense of anticipation hung in the air.
Moments later, the door at the front of the room slid open smoothly. General Stewart entered with an air of authority that commanded respect. His short black-and-white hair was cropped, and a thin scar traced along his jawline—a testament to the battles he faced and survived.
"At ease," Stewart commanded, his voice deep and resonant. "Be seated."
In unison, they moved to the chairs, sitting with disciplined precision.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the General began, his gaze sweeping over them. "You have been selected for Operation Silent Nova."
He paused, tapping a sequence into the gauntlet on his wrist. The room dimmed slightly as holographic images materialized above the podium. One was an emblem—an hourglass. The other was a shadowy figure whose features were obscured, save for piercing eyes that seemed to lock onto each of them.
"You represent each Ranger division," Stewart continued. "All of you have been identified for your exceptional skills and unique capabilities. Alongside one of our own from the Sixth Division, you six will undergo intensive training over the next six months. Your objective is singular and of utmost importance."
He gestured to the holographic symbols. "You are to infiltrate the organization known as the Children of the Past and eliminate their leader."
Comments
Guilherme Carneiro
That was physical contact, but the leader has a 10km radius limit. Oliver would be a teleportable target if he kept inside his area; after going to the 6th, he's clear.
Elo2Coon
Ok… this going to be hard… they know they are coming and now they know where the 6 is I think. Didn’t the man pushed Oliver before the wallet thingy ? Cause that’s a physical contact… 🤔
HornboozeWFG
It will be alot harder than that to kill the leader.... Also did he do anything on his downtime that can be seen as productive like passively using his boons to understand some technology better? Or was seeing any fighting styles from either his walking around or from online? As these are some things that one that is recovering can do in order to not feel like they are lagging behind....
