I’ll be the Red Ranger

- Oliver -

The building had been hit.

Oliver felt the staircase vanish beneath his feet, a sudden lurch that sent his stomach plummeting. Instinctively, he lunged upward, his fingers clamping onto a metal railing bolted to the wall. The cold steel bit into his palms, but he held on with desperate strength. With his other hand, he grabbed Hector's arm just as the floor collapsed entirely, leaving a yawning chasm where the solid ground had been moments before.

A deafening explosion roared through the stairwell, the shockwave rattling his bones. Dust and debris filled the air, and the acrid smell of smoke seared his lungs. The realization hit them with terrifying clarity. A missile had struck the building several floors below, obliterating the staircase and compromising the entire structure.

Oliver hung precariously, his muscles straining under the combined weight of himself and Hector. However, he had been constantly training in the past few weeks to withstand the increased gravity, so holding one more person wasn't the problem. The real issue was that Oliver didn't know how much time they had before that wall collapsed.

"I-I'm going to swing you down to the floor below, into that open room!" Oliver shouted over the screams. His voice was firm, masking the urgency gnawing at him.

"W-what?" Hector stammered, his eyes wide with fear. He clung to Oliver, his knuckles white, paralyzed by the sheer drop beneath them.

"We don't have time! Trust me!" Oliver barked, already beginning to sway his body to create momentum.

The wall anchoring the metal bar groaned ominously, cracks snaking across the concrete like jagged scars. Each tremor of the building sent showers of dust cascading around them. Oliver knew they had seconds at most before their tenuous hold gave way.

He glanced down. The floor below, though strewn with debris, remained intact. Returning to their original level was impossible now. It was all or nothing.

Gathering his strength, Oliver swung Hector like a pendulum. "On three!" he yelled.

Hector's face drained of color, but he nodded.

"One… two… three!"

With a mighty heave, Oliver released Hector at the apex of the swing. Time seemed to slow as Hector sailed through the air, his arms flailing. For a heartbeat, he was weightless, a solitary figure against the backdrop of twisted metal and smoke.

Hector crashed onto the floor below with a heavy thud, rolling several times before coming to a stop. He lay there for a moment, stunned but miraculously unharmed.

Oliver felt relief. With Hector safe, he could focus on his own predicament. The wall shuddered again, signaling imminent collapse.

"Your turn," he muttered to himself.

Oliver braced his feet against the trembling wall, muscles tensing as he prepared to jump. Just as he shifted his weight, he felt the wall give way beneath the pressure. A fissure snaked up the cracked surface, and with a sickening lurch, the wall began to crumble. He had only a split second to react, managing to push off with less force than he'd intended.

The partial leap was barely enough. His fingertips scraped the edge of the floor below, and he slammed into the ledge with a bone-jarring thud. The impact drove the air from his lungs, and for a moment, stars danced in his vision. Clinging desperately to the narrow ledge, Oliver hauled himself up, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Damn it," he muttered, feeling the bruises bloom across his chest where he'd struck the floor. He took a shuddering breath, finally registering the noises surrounding him. From all directions came the sounds of chaos, hundreds, if not thousands, of people, screaming and shouting throughout the collapsing hotel. The once-luxurious skyscraper had become a labyrinth of panic, with guests and staff alike scrambling to evacuate. Some were stranded on the same destroyed staircase, while others were scattered throughout the building, desperately seeking a way out.

"Are you okay?" Hector's voice called out, tinged with fear and concern.

"As much as I can be," Oliver replied hoarsely, his mouth dry. He pushed himself to his feet, wincing slightly, and stepped away from the edge. His mind raced, a thousand thoughts competing for attention. They were over eighty stories up, far above the reach of any immediate help.

He considered his options. ‘I could use the Blue Armor to jump from here,’ he thought. ‘But that wouldn't help anyone else, and I'd risk exposing myself.’ The alternative, the Green Armor, was even worse. While it would allow him to rescue others easily, activating it would almost certainly alert the Empire to his identity.

"But there's still something else I can do," Oliver murmured. Determined, he adjusted his stance and moved down the smoke-filled corridor, keeping low to avoid inhaling the thickening fumes.

"I need to get to the seventieth floor!" he shouted over his shoulder to Hector. "What's the best way down?"

Hector's face was ashen, every ounce of color drained in the aftermath of their narrow escape. His eyes were wide, and his hands trembled violently. "Th-there are three stairwells," he stammered. "There's another on the opposite side of the building and one at the center."

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"Got it," Oliver said, placing a firm hand on Hector's shoulder. "Stay with me."

They moved together along the corridor, navigating through the haze and debris. Pandemonium reigned around them. People huddled in corners, some weeping uncontrollably, others staring blankly into space, frozen by fear. The emergency lights cast an eerie red glow, illuminating the chaos but offering little comfort. The directional arrows pointed toward the exits, but in their panic, many seemed unable to follow.

Minutes later, another series of explosions thundered through the city. The building swayed ominously, the floor beneath them vibrating with each distant detonation. Dust rained down from the ceiling, and the groan of stressed metal echoed like a beast in pain.

‘We have to get out before this whole place comes down,’ Oliver thought grimly. He quickened his pace, urging Hector onward.

"Rangers, report your positions." A notification crackled in Oliver's earpiece.

As Hector started descending the central stairwell, Oliver seized the moment to press his communicator and whisper, "Ranger Oliver, descending the building."

"Ranger Oliver. Proceed to the teleportation point in the city center," the officer commanded.

"Impossible. There are still wounded here," Oliver replied firmly.

"Ranger, your orders are to return immediately," the officer reprimanded.

"I will not expose my identity," Oliver insisted.

"Rescue teams are arriving in ten minutes. They don't need you there," the officer stated curtly.

That was all Oliver needed to hear. He still remembers how much it was “ten to fifteen” minutes in rescue time. Last time, his fifteen minutes took more than an hour.

Oliver pulled the earpiece from his ear, dropped it to the floor, and crushed it under his boot until it was nothing but shattered fragments.

"Forget it," he muttered under his breath.

"Did you say something?" Hector called out, glancing back as he descended the steps.

"Nothing. What floor are we on?" Oliver asked, masking his frustration.

"Seventy-two—just two more to go," Hector replied, his voice echoing slightly in the confined space.

They continued down the final flight of stairs, the air thick with dust and tinged with the smell of smoke. Distant explosions rumbled through the building, each one a stark reminder of the chaos unfolding outside. Emerging into the exhibition hall, they found it nearly deserted. The once-crowded space now stood eerily silent, shadows cast by flickering emergency lights dancing across the walls.

Oliver's eyes scanned the room quickly. Most of the mechs had been removed. Either piloted away by their owners or secured elsewhere. Only one remained. The Atlas-M was standing alone in the corner.

"There it is," Oliver said, relief evident in his voice.

Without wasting a moment, he sprinted toward the Atlas-M. Reaching the mech, Oliver located the concealed button on its back and pressed it. With a hiss of hydraulics, the cockpit opened, revealing the pilot's seat and control interface.

"Ah! So this is what you were after," Hector exclaimed, realization dawning as he joined Oliver. "Do you know how to pilot it?"

"A bit," Oliver admitted. "I'm no professional, but we can't stay here as we are."

"Agreed," Hector nodded, though a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face.

"Did you bring any others?" Oliver asked, glancing around hopefully.

"No, just this one," Hector replied, a hint of reluctance in his tone.

Oliver considered this for a moment. "You take this one, then. I'll see if I can find another mech nearby."

Hector hesitated. "Actually… I don't know how to pilot it."

Oliver turned to him, eyebrows raised in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Hector's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I know the engineering and the theory behind operating it," he confessed. "But when it comes to actually piloting, I get too nervous. I've never been able to do it."

"Alright," Oliver said, glancing around as he pondered the situation.

"I can ride on the back," Hector suggested suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Oliver asked, not quite grasping the idea.

"The mech's back has a maintenance platform," Hector explained, pointing towards the Atlas-M standing idle nearby. "I can hold on there while you use the mech to get us down."

"But the jump would kill you," Oliver objected. "The sheer force of the landing, even with damping, could be fatal."

"Before we hit the ground, you can use some of the thrusters to reduce our speed," Hector countered earnestly. "Even if it's not perfect, the legs have shock absorbers designed to handle heavy impacts from mining operations. It should be enough to keep me alive."

Oliver regarded him for a moment, weighing the risks. The building shuddered again, tiles cascading from the ceiling. Time was running out.

"Do you have a better plan?" Hector pressed, urgency in his eyes.

Oliver exhaled, shaking his head. "No, I don't."

"Then let's do it." Without waiting for further discussion, Hector moved to the mech. He climbed up the rear of the Atlas-M, using the rungs of a small service ladder. Finding the maintenance platform, he positioned himself securely, gripping the safety rails with white-knuckled determination.

Oliver watched him for a second before snapping into action. He approached the Atlas-M and climbed into the cockpit. The interior was a compact array of controls and displays, illuminated by the soft glow of standby indicators. As he settled into the pilot's seat, the mech's operating system booted up rapidly, screens flickering to life.

Though he'd never piloted this specific model before, Oliver closed his eyes briefly, tapping into the skill he had acquired using [Insight]. He still remembered the schematics and operational protocols as they flowed into his mind, granting him a basic understanding of the machine. It wasn't the same as true experience, but it would have to suffice.

Oliver began initiating the mech's systems, fingers dancing over the console. The Atlas-M hummed as its power core ramped up, vibrations coursing through the frame.

"Systems online," he murmured to himself. Diagnostics scrolled across the primary display, all reading nominal.

He gripped the control sticks firmly, feeling the responsive tension beneath his hands. Taking a deep breath, he steadied his nerves. "Here goes nothing."