A/N: Hey guys! I'm back early! :D

Sorry for the wait! I don't know if you've been checking my page for announcements or not but before - I stated that I wasn't going to be around for roughly a month until we get better internet. BUT, I'm back early now! And during my time away, I decided to color in Iseldur's picture :D! You can also find my picture on Deviantart.com with my username 'MaileenHanderson'! :D

She turned out a lot better than I expected XD!

Anyway! I'd also like to happily announce, that a friend of mine's OC will be implemented into the story. We're doing a bit of a collab and I figured, since the Drummer in the story is the only person in the band that Iseldur talks to, they would make for the perfect opportunity to bring his OC in :D!

Let me know what you think! You can find my friend's account at this link - https://www.quotev.com/MegaRayquaza55  <-- his user is Mega Rayquaza55 

All credit for his OC Tray Ford goes to him! o/

~~~~~~~~~~

A stifled burp echoed in the air as Iseldur crushed her empty soda can and placed it on a nearby surface. "See ya, freakazoid." The lead guitarist playfully bade the goth goodbye with a light chuckle and lazily waved his hand with a rock sign from his fingers.

Iseldur didn't say anything. A stool sat behind her as she sighed and sat on it. When she leaned over and rested her elbows so her arms would dangle over her knees, thoughts of yesterday flooded her mind.

Fists clenched at the fearful sensation that lingered. Knowing that Andrew and the Rangers discovered her true identity, scared her more than anything. Such a thing could leave her open, it could have her killed, or worse, it could tarnish and slow her down from her goal to shed her old master's blood.

What do I do? Her throat tightened, the frustration was unreal. What will they do? In her mind again, she asked and lowered her head. Her hands were used to rub her cheeks and bury her face into her palms, trying to wipe away the stress.

Her blank tank top and tight leather pants did her pale Asian complexion little justice in the dimly lit Studio's recording room. It was hard to resist the urge to cry, to ball her eyes out from all that had transpired. She bit her slightly quivering black lips to try and hold them still and thickly gulped down that need.

"Dude, you alright?" A familiar voice rang throughout the room, causing the goth to peek through her fingers and see the Drummer from before. They wore green today and dyed their low ponytail the same color, which she couldn't help but notice.

The drummer, whose name she always tended to forget but never cared enough to remember, was seen leaning in the recording room's doorway. Her eyes, behind the visor, were becoming red, but she was quick to blink and snap out of it.

"Yeah... The damn song just gets to me, is all." Taking a deep breath and sitting up straighter, her hidden gaze peered up at the ceiling in thought. Yeah, this new song's going to be a pain. She began in her mind and groaned. Two songs. And I'm hoping this song will be a clear message to that bi- before she could so much as swear in her thoughts, the Drummer broke the momentary silence.

"Which one? The one we just practiced or the other one from yesterday?" The goth didn't care to look at their expression when they asked, the past continued to resurface and distract her from answering right away. However, after a minute or so, she finally did.

"The one just now, Drummer Dung." Iseldur rolled her eyes at that and stood from her stool, grabbing the crushed can before making slow strides past them.

"Listen – I know I've only been a part of your band for about a month or so, but at least remember my name..." They trailed, and she saw their eyes follow her toward the door. "It's Tray Ford." She heard it. A bit of anger in their tone when they gave her their name and slowly, her head turned to look at them.

"Right..." Hyne quietly mumbled with an unchanging expression. "How old are you again?" A brow lifted curiously, folding arms showed that she wasn't going to be swayed by someone's attitude even if she did give one first.

"Seventeen," the kid answered nervously once he saw her unfaltering confidence. Almost as though she could pummel him in a second if he so much as uttered the wrong word.

"Dang... Another kid. Whatever..." The goth waved her hand as a lazy gesture of saying goodbye, before grabbing her trench coat and staring at it for a second. "As long as you're good with the sticks and you don't try to tick me off, then we'll get along." More attitude laced her words no thanks to the pent-up stress and frustration from yesterday. Otherwise, she wouldn't have cared to answer.

But once she was about to leave, Tray's next words made her halt in the door's frame. It wasn't something she expected, something that surprised her enough to make her lips part. "Miss Hyne. Ever since I joined your band, I've noticed you've been emotionally struggling a lot. Are you... Okay?" Worry was evident in their voice, which was a clear sign that they were a kind person.

Swallowing a bit of spit, her nerves steeled themselves and it took her a bit to not lash out at them from anger. Her fists clenched tight enough to turn her knuckles white until she finally managed to speak. "Piss off..." With that, Iseldur trudged out of the door with her trench coat slipping over her shoulders and arms.

"But – wait a minute! Hey!" The sound of their footsteps told her that they had run to catch up. Her five foot and eight inches were just below their five foot and eleven height, but sizes never bothered her.

This kid... Tray. They've always been trying to talk to me! Why? Do they not get it? I'm not a conversationalist! An eye twitched beneath her shades as she made her way through the halls and ignored the strangely eager kid.

Hold on – they said that they're seventeen years old? Confusion settled onto her face when she made her way outside and approached her bike in the parking lot. That doesn't make sense! They said they hadn't been to Northwind Acres in seventeen years! Did this kid just lie to me? Abruptly at the side of the motorcycle, she halted and barely cocked her head in their direction when she saw them trying to catch up. "Hey, kid." With an irritated tone, her hidden eyes saw them stop just before her by a foot or two and watched them lift their brows confusedly.

"Yeah?" The green jacket they wore was quickly adjusted and zipped closed to get rid of the chill in the air.

"You lied." Plain and simple, she stated. "Why?" The goth grabbed her helmet. Feeling her braids and ponytail squish against her head and neck was uncomfortable as usual, but wasn't something she'd fret over.

Nothing but silence accompanied the faint murmurs of the city and passing vehicles of the nearby two-lane street. So when she glanced in her peripherals and saw them nervously shift their weight, she sighed and lifted a leg to sit on her bike.

"Sorry. I can't say." Their usual playful or cheery tone fell into a saddened whisper. Iseldur could see them fidgeting with the hem of their jacket's sleeve, keeping their brown eyes down in shame. "But... I was wanting to ask if we can grab a bite to eat." Innocence reflected in their gaze but it was easy to tell that they felt guilty for lying to her.

"No." A flat-out answer was given, which didn't seem to discourage them in the least. Roughly two minutes had passed and was surprised by their lasting persistence. This is a first... Iseldur pondered and quietly stared at them for the longest time. None of my bandmates wanted to hang with me since I've always told them no. Why isn't this kid leaving? Grumbling from the lengthy wait, an eye twitched behind her helmet.

"Please? The rest of the bandmates took us to the Bar before and I was underage, so I wasn't allowed in..." Frowning deeply now, she watched Tray sigh and fold their arms.

Another minute of sitting there had cost her some valuable exploration time, she was very reluctant to let some teenager hitch a ride with her. Especially when spies lurked about and could potentially get the kid hurt.

"Fine! Whatever!" Anger flew from her covered black lips when she raised her hands to express her exasperation. "Hop on or I'm leaving without you!" Both hands quickly clenched onto the handles of her bike after she turned it on. The rev and rumble of its engine purred like a kitten, as the goth waited for them to do so.

Not another moment was spared. Tray did as she demanded and felt their arms wrap around her waist for support. With that, she revved her bike, backed it up, and turned it around. It wasn't long until they were on the road, driving at the speed limit and past some parked vehicles on the side of the street.

Several minutes passed by as she drove. They were in a long line of cars in front of a red light. Hmm. I guess it wouldn't hurt to ask where Tray wants to eat. For a moment, the goth pondered and looked over her shoulder with a subtle tilt of her head. She saw them looking around on occasion and then staring into space, with full contemplation in their otherwise innocent brown eyes.

Her grip tightened on the handles of her bike to the point that her fingerless gloves stretched the material and barely made a sound behind the rev of her engine.

Returning her attention to the car ahead of her, a grumble escaped her at the thought of bringing up a topic of some kind. After this is over – I'm heading to my private dojo. Gotta release some of this steam! I hate people... Can't they tell - that I don't want to be bothered? One of her fingers began to tap irritably as she waited for the light to change. I just hope no spies come by. That was her last thought before she adjusted her helmet a bit and sighed.

"Ford! Where do you want to eat?" As plain and simple as she could make her question, she waited for them to respond. If she hadn't heard them hum in thought, she wouldn't have known if they heard her or not.

"How about..." When they trailed off to ponder, their words faded into the murmurs of the surrounding vehicles and the barely audible chatter of people on the sidewalks. "Panda Garden Buffet?" They raised their voice so she could hear with a noticeable lift of excitement in their tone.

All she did was nod. Her gaze behind the metal visor and the shade of her helmet lifted to keep an eye on the lights. Come on! Iseldur complained in her mind and growled beneath her breath. If this kid wasn't on my backside, I would've swerved and driven ahead of these slugs! Her finger tapping sped up, which made her anger more visible to anyone who would drive or pass by.

Finally, after what felt like half an hour, when it was only five minutes, the line moved. It took her a while longer to drive around and find the place. Turning corner after corner, with Tray's occasional directions.

Her bike was soon turned off once she stopped in a slot of the Buffet's parking lot. There were a ton of people there, some entering and leaving with their children or lovers. Her leather pants stretched and sounded throughout the rather quiet area when she stood. The faint breeze up her back that she felt was when the end of her trench coat fell.

"I'll pay if that's alright." She heard it. The tone they carried sounded like they were afraid to be a burden to her, worried, and with a mixture of maturity.

The goth watched the kid move their leg to get off of her bike and stood up, adjusting their jacket. "No." Iseldur denied their attempt, if anything it made her anger worse. Her aggressive tug when she took off her helmet and placed it on the handle of her bike was proof enough.

"Come on, it's the least I can do! I don't want to-" Before they could protest any further, she whirled around to get in their face and bore her covered eyes dangerously into theirs.

"Listen!" she started with a faint growl in her tone and a threatening finger in their direction. "I'm not going to let some kid provide for me when I have enough money to pay off two buildings! Use your brain." Rude, she was. However, that wasn't the true reason why she denied their offer. No, it was because of something else entirely different.

"But..." Tray trailed a moment and stepped back for some space until they continued. "Can we settle this, then? With Rock-Paper-Scissors?" A small, confident smirk and a chuckle came from them, to which she straightened up and groaned.

Seeing their hand lift to make a rock shape, she stared at it for the longest time. This kid's stubborn... It doesn't matter, I'm still paying! Iseldur briefly pondered, lifted her fist in front of theirs, and they did a few rounds.

After she won the first two, Tray won the last two. "Haha, yeah! I'm paying!" The goth watched them lift their fists in the air and laugh, resulting in her facepalming and pinching her brows beneath her visor.

Shortly after their little game, they entered the restaurant. The smell of various foods flooded their noses when they wandered to a register. The guy behind it welcomed them routinely with a friendly smile and Iseldur jotted down their names on the list.

The register man whom the author hardly cares to mention much, since he's not important, gave them the fixed price of two people. "I got this.~" Tray happily chirped and was about to take out their wallet, when Iseldur simply rolled her eyes.

The goth beat them to it and pulled out her card from her jacket's pocket. She didn't get to see the embarrassed look on their face, she just wanted to eat and be done.

It wasn't long until they gathered their desired food. Isledur sat down at a booth near a window and pushed the metal visor further up her nose when she looked at her grub. Barbecue chicken legs, mashed potatoes, and some green beans. The fork she used to tear the chicken apart, clinked against the plate, and steam wafted out of the torn piece.

"Oh, that looks good." Tray started, which she didn't care much to look at after taking a bite. "Have you tried the spicy buffalo wings yet?" A glint of excitement twinkled in their brown eyes when she saw them lean in a little and take a bite of their spicy wings.

Iseldur simply sighed and leaned back, chewing her food; she did her best to ignore the kid. However, thoughts of Andrew and his Power Rangers returned ten-fold. The anxiety over all of it caused her fingers to tightly clench the fork she held and almost bend its metal.

"You... Okay?" Tray asked, to which she peeked and saw their brows knit worriedly.

This kid just won't leave me alone... I don't want some child in my way! Especially when spies could be around... And that damn child-killing Elite! Her thoughts became a storm of anger when she stabbed her fork aggressively into her chicken and lifted it. The shaky exhale from her nose was enough proof of how much she was holding herself back. "Yeah. Now stop asking." As plain and simple as it was, her faint, shaky breaths said otherwise.

"I know you're... In pain. I can see it, you know?" The kid stated and nervously watched the goth glare intensely in return until a powerful outburst came from her that made them quickly jerk back against the seat in response.

"HOW WOULD YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT PAIN? HOW CAN YOU SEE PAIN? YOU'RE JUST A DAMN KID!" With a growl in her voice, the goth had stood straight and nearly knocked their food on the floor if she hadn't held the plate in place on the far side.

But what she said and how she acted made her lips part and her eyes light up with disbelief. The look in their gaze told her that they weren't expecting an explosive response like that. Did I just... No. No, no... Fu- before she could so much as swear in her mind, Tray spoke up.

"I've seen and been through a lot of pain before... But you have a lot of it kept inside. It's kind of hard not to notice." It was strange for them to remain calm when she screamed at them. It was enough to make Iseldur stare at them questionably.

Nothing but silence between them ensued. All she did was stand there, her expression changing from astonished disbelief to suspicion and anger. Once she sat back down, she continued to eat her food. Most kids don't know how to see that at a young age. Unless they've been through more crap than what they should've... From a harsh rip from her chicken, the goth chewed her food.

~~

After that, they didn't talk. It was rather nice too, having her company quiet and not talking, brought a sense of momentary relief to her. But now, they were on the road again, with their arms tight around her waist to keep from falling off.

They were on the same street with the annoying red light in the middle. Her helmet hid the scowl she had as she pondered their words carefully. Am I that obvious? So, the training my old master gave me... Is starting to wear off? She taught me how to sharpen my tongue and my blade. Charisma, skill, wisdom, and all other kinds of knowledge on how to survive on this planet. But... Her eyes hazed a moment when she recalled her old master's once motherly kind smile, getting covered by a mask and reflecting disapproval and distaste in her eyes. She thought I was a monster... And yet, she's so blind that she doesn't see just how much of one she is herself. Hyne briefly thought back on that day, recalling the pain she felt close to her heart.

It was upon instinct when one of her hands moved to hold the spot where the old wound was. A scar she knew was dangerously close to her heart, one that would never go away. It wasn't just scarred tissue, a daily reminder of that rainy night, but it was an internal scar that would prove difficult to move on from.

However, when a honk behind her reached her ears, her head perked. The middle finger was lifted for a second before she revved her engine and sped across.

The moment she did, just to the side of the lane, she saw one of the Spies on their motorcycle pick up their speed and drive past her. Oh, piss! She halted her bike immediately and stomped her foot on the ground hard enough to make it swerve and turn around. "Hold on, Tray!" The tires shrieked when the engine revved and the front of her bike lifted before picking up speed.

"What are you doing?!" The kid yelled over the sound of her motorcycle and felt their hands tighten around her waist.

Of course, she didn't say anything. The whole situation turned into a chase, like a cat and a mouse, for she zoomed past furiously shouting drivers who flipped her and the Spy off.

Oh, no. No! I am NOT letting this one get away! Iseldur was full of determination. She skillfully cut past other vehicles in a zigzag, lifted the front of her bike, and used a small ramp from a truck to vault them over the lined cars. If she had been paying more attention to her surroundings rather than the Spy, she would've noticed Kamdor and Miratrix atop a building watching her curiously.

The sound of the whirring engine mid-glide resonated for a moment and that moment was used to grab a tracker from her trench coat's pocket. It was swiftly flicked across the short distance, attaching to the Spy's black armor before falling and landing directly behind them.

"What's going on?! Why are you chasing this person?!" The kid whined in fear and kept a strong grip on her. The jolt when they landed had nearly jostled them off of the back of her bike.

"You don't need to know!" Over the roar of her bike, she answered and kept with the spy's speed as much as she could. When she came upon a four-way crossing and two semi-trucks were just about to pass each other, she saw the Spy dip his bike sideways and slide underneath.

Damn it! Her teeth clenched and ground against each other from the increasing anger. I have no choice... I won't be able to skid underneath with this kid on my back! I'll have to use the strength in my Slics! Nervousness and anger collided inside of her, but she knew there was no other option if she wanted to keep on their tail.

Her grip tightened more on the handles until she spoke loudly over the engine and through gritted teeth. "Kid! What you're about to see... Forget you ever did!"

"Wha-" Before Tray could mutter a word, Iseldur felt her Nerve Slics slip out from beneath her tank top.

The length of her Slics extended to its fullest – matching her five foot and eight inches, a maximum of six tendrils smacked like heavy whips monstrously onto the pavement. The strength behind them broke and cracked some of the road before sending the two flying over the two semi-trucks almost like in a cinematic scene in movies.

They were quick to slip back inside of her as quickly as they appeared, and when she pulled out a cherry bomb it was chucked at the Spy in the distance.

As soon as a small explosion knocked the Spy off of his vehicle, Iseldur turned her bike sideways and made it skid to a halt not far from them. "Stay here." Pent-up anger made her tone low and gravelly before she got off.

The helmet she wore was quickly tossed to the road and next to her motorcycle's wheels, before she bolted after the Spy who ran for it. Her trench coat waved, flapping along the way, as she sprinted into an alleyway to the side of the road.

The goth was faster than the Spy, which allowed her to jump and vault between the exterior walls of two buildings to raise herself above them. Her parkour gave her enough momentum to whirl in the air, kick the small blade in her heel out of its slot, and her leg out simultaneously.

"Ah!" Their scream of pain resonated and bounced off the walls when the tendons in their one leg were cut, resulting in them falling onto their side.

She didn't waste another second to tackle the Spy and hold them down by the back of their neck, using her weight to make it more difficult for them to knock her off.

"Where is she?!" The goth was half tempted to simply wring their neck and be done, but she wanted answers and interrogation was the only way she'd get it. She didn't know that Tray was watching at the entrance of the alley, dumbstruck by her sheer aggression and precise combat.

Iseldur flipped the Spy onto their back and pinned their wrists. "Tell me!" As soon as she ripped the mask off of them, she saw a cocky smirk form and heard them chuckle.

"The monster is here! The monster is here!~ Hahahaha!" Their words had stunned her.

Seeing the Spy laugh maniacally in her face only worsened her anger. "AAAAH!" A fist pulled back and next – came relentless, sickening punches to their face. Over and over, her fury fueled her strikes, screaming and letting a single tear trickle down her cheeks.

The monster is here! The monster is here! In her screaming fit, came a memory when she was very small.

Other children who her old master had taken in, played in a vast yard and ran from her. Tendrils elegantly trailed behind her as her small feet raced after the kids with an outstretched hand, telling them to wait.

Yet they continued to laugh at the Nerve Slics that were connected to her spine. Chanting in a chorus about how she was a monster who needed to be locked up in chains. The monster is here! One of the boys shouted and laughed as he ran behind a tree, fighting over the spot with another who was already there.

I just want to play! Please! Can I play too? Iseldur's tiny, sweet voice resonated with innocence, pleading to join them and trying to fit in. Her naivety clouded her judgment, assuming they were simply teasing.

However, a glimpse of a bucket in her peripherals was seen above her head a moment too late and water soaked her from head to toe. It startled her child-self to a point, where her blue Nerve Slics glowed and froze her into a thick layer of ice.

Iseldur was so caught up in her past that she hadn't even noticed how much she punched the Spy. They almost didn't have a face, blood and bone were all that was left, with crimson pooling behind their head.

"Hyne!" Tray's voice snapped her out of her unending strikes and made her pause mid-swing.

Shaking, tears cascading down her cheeks, blood on her fist, the goth's quivering breaths were visible proof that she was not in any sense doing well. Slowly, her heterochromia eyes looked in the kid's direction, just to see others in black and gold armor surround them.

There she watched the Drummer run to her side without batting an eye at the gory display. "Hyne! We're surrounded!" They yelled and shook her shoulder, making her blink a few times and immediately rise to her feet.

Her heavy breaths and shaky limbs told anyone who might have noticed it, that she was still in an Adrenaline rush. But upon examining each opponent, a fist symbol on one pectoral and the same crescent moon shape from before represented who they were. Foot-soldiers?! That heartless, murdering, bi- before she could utter a word in her mind, the goth saw the kid reach into their pocket.

"No – leave this to me, kid! They're already dead to me..." Her eyes sharpened with animosity behind her metal visor; an intent to kill every one of them.