Tommy's steps were elusive, his boots barely making a sound against the stone, yet his speed was blisteringly fast. He moved like a phantom through the underground passages, every stride precise and deliberate.
He sprinted toward the Pagoda's secret chamber as if his life depended on it—because in many ways, it did. He knew his success here might very well determine the outcome of the battle raging above.
"Damn it… why is this secret room so deep underground?" Tommy muttered under his breath as he descended further. "Who the hell designed this place?"
The passage sloped sharply downward, the steep floor forcing him to adjust his balance as he ran. Ancient walls blurred past him, etched with old symbols and seals that radiated a faint, unsettling presence.
Minutes later, Tommy slowed and glanced at his morpher's holographic map. A blue light pulsed steadily ahead—his objective. Surrounding it were twelve red markers, blinking ominously.
"…Twelve?" Tommy frowned beneath his helmet.
"Hmph… this is getting more complicated," he thought. "He even placed guardians at the chamber entrance. This man is even more cautious than I expected."
He took a sharp turn to the left, his movements fluid and controlled. His mind raced as he began forming plans—routes, distractions, takedowns—all calculated to neutralize the guards without wasting time.
Time was something he simply did not have.
Zayne was out there alone, fighting a frenzied Sensei Watanabe whose power had been warped by something far darker. Tommy didn't think Zayne was weak. Far from it. But that didn't mean he wanted the kid carrying such a dangerous burden by himself.
He's just eighteen, Tommy thought grimly. He shouldn't have to shoulder this alone.
It wasn't long before Tommy emerged into a vast underground hall. At its far end stood a massive gate—easily taller than two grown men stacked atop one another. Its surface was carved from ancient stone, reinforced with glowing runes, and emblazoned at its center was the unmistakable insignia of the Wind Ninja Academy.
Tommy came to a halt.
Standing before the gate were twelve ninjas in perfect battle formation. Every single one of them wore a traditional mask, their stances disciplined and ready. All except one.
At the center stood a young man with glasses, his posture relaxed, arms loosely at his sides. There was a quiet confidence about him—calm, observant, and sharp.
"Hello, Ranger," the young man spoke, his voice smooth. "Or should I say… Tommy Oliver."
Tommy stiffened instantly. His eyes narrowed behind the visor, his entire body tensing.
He said his name.
Very few people knew his identity. Fewer still were alive who weren't allies. And he was certain he had never seen this man before.
"Who are you?" Tommy asked, his voice low and heavy with warning.
The young man adjusted his glasses calmly. "That doesn't really matter in this situation," he replied. "But if you insist—my name is Cameron Watanabe."
Tommy's gaze sharpened.
Cameron continued, unfazed. "I can give you what you're looking for. But you'll have to do me a favor first."
"So he's related to Sensei," Tommy thought, a glint flashing through his eyes. Still, he didn't lower his guard.
"And what makes you think I can't get what I need myself?" Tommy shot back, crossing his arms. Despite the casual gesture, his body remained coiled and ready to strike.
Cameron chuckled softly. This time, when he spoke, his tone was no longer teasing. It was serious.
"Only those of the Watanabe bloodline can open this gate," Cameron said plainly. "No one else can. No matter what method you try, you will never get the gem without me."
Zayne: Only if I wasn't busy.
"Damn it… another deadlock," Tommy muttered under his breath.
He could have dismissed Cameron's words as a bluff—but he didn't. He activated the base scanner and ran a rapid analysis. The results confirmed it. The gate was bound by bloodline authentication protocols layered with ancient ninjutsu.
It was true.
After a moment of silent contemplation, Tommy finally spoke.
"…What favor?"
A small smile tugged at Cameron's lips as he answered, his eyes glinting behind the lenses.
"Success."
--- ✦ ---
(General POV)
Mary Jane led Gwen and Kira deeper underground, her pace steady, almost casual, as if this descent into the earth was nothing out of the ordinary. The air gradually grew colder, heavier, carrying a faint metallic scent that clung to the back of the throat. The dim lights embedded in the stone walls flickered occasionally, casting warped shadows that stretched and recoiled like living things.
Kira felt it first.
A subtle pressure pressed against her chest, not physical, but instinctual. The kind that made the hairs on her arms show faintly beneath her jacket. She glanced at Gwen, catching the brief tightening of her jaw. Gwen felt it too. The atmosphere was wrong—oppressive in a way that went beyond darkness or isolation.
Yet neither of them spoke.
They followed Mary Jane in silence, their expressions calm, composed. Unnaturally so.
Mary Jane noticed.
She let out a quiet sigh of relief, her shoulders loosening just a little as she continued walking ahead of them.
"It's a good thing I charmed their minds while they were asleep, she thought to herself. Otherwise, bringing them here would've been a nightmare."
Her lips curved faintly, not out of malice, but reassurance—reassurance to herself.
"No matter what I ask them to do, as long as it's not to kill themselves… they'll always trust me."
Her fingers twitched at her side, guilt brushing her thoughts like an unwelcome breeze. She lowered her voice, muttering under her breath so softly it barely echoed.
"Don't blame me, guys… I just want you to have powers like mine, too."
Mary Jane truly believed that. She had no idea the two girls walking behind her were already heroes in their own right—warriors who had faced monsters and horrors far beyond this underground lair. To her, this was salvation. A gift. A way to make sure they would always be friends.
Minutes passed as they descended further.
At last, the tunnel opened into a vast, spacious chamber. The ceiling arched high above them, supported by massive stone pillars carved with ancient symbols. At the far end of the room stood a throne—black and ornate, its surface polished to a reflective sheen. The entire chamber radiated an eerie, gothic beauty, as if darkness itself had been carefully sculpted into art.
Kira was the first to truly take it in.
Her eyes locked onto the figure seated arrogantly upon the throne.
Necrolai.
She was breathtaking.
Her features were sharp yet elegant, her skin pale and flawless, her long hair cascading down her shoulders like liquid night. There was a predatory grace to her posture, a confidence that screamed absolute dominance. Even Kira—who had always been confident in her own looks—felt an uncomfortable urge to compare herself.
Gwen's gaze followed soon after.
The moment her eyes met Necrolai, her spider-sense exploded into life.
Danger.
Pure, overwhelming danger.
It wasn't a sharp spike—it was a constant, blaring alarm screaming at her to move, to fight, to run. Beauty and power radiated from Necrolai in equal measure, coiling together into something terrifyingly alluring.
Before either of them could speak, Mary Jane stepped forward.
Then, to their utter shock, she knelt.
She bowed deeply before the throne, her voice filled with reverence as she spoke.
"My queen, your subordinate has fulfilled her mission."
Silence followed.
Necrolai did not respond immediately. Her crimson eyes slowly traced the room, lingering on Gwen and Kira before settling back on Mary Jane. Then, at last, she chuckled—a low, amused sound that echoed softly through the chamber.
"Very good," Necrolai said lazily. "You've made me quite happy. Come closer… and receive your reward."
Gwen's eyes widened.
Before she could react, Mary Jane moved.
She vanished from where she stood, her body blurring as she crossed the distance faster than any human ever should. In an instant, she was kneeling beneath Necrolai's throne, her head tilted upward in expectation.
What happened next made Gwen's stomach churn.
Necrolai raised her hand and, without hesitation, sliced her own wrist with a claw-like fingernail. Dark red blood welled instantly. She brought her wrist down to Mary Jane's mouth.
Mary Jane's teeth elongated unnaturally, sharpening into fangs as she latched on.
She drank greedily.
Her hands clutched Necrolai's wrist tightly, possessively, as if afraid the source would be taken away. The sound of swallowing echoed in the chamber, raw and animalistic. Minutes passed before Mary Jane finally released her grip, pulling back with a soft, breathless moan of pleasure.
Necrolai watched with clear amusement, her eyes glinting with satisfaction.
"Stand aside," she commanded calmly. "I'll deal with your friends now."
Mary Jane obeyed instantly, stepping away, her expression blissfully calm—her hunger sated, her thoughts dulled.
What struck Necrolai then was not their fear.
It was their composure.
Gwen and Kira stood exactly where they had been before. Both their faces were calm, devoid of shock or fear.
Necrolai frowned slightly, but quickly dismissed it.
"They must be frozen in shock," she concluded.
With a lazy wave of her hand, pink mist burst from Necrolai's body, rolling outward like a living fog. It enveloped Gwen and Kira completely, seeping into their space, wrapping around them in a suffocating haze.
Necrolai nodded in satisfaction.
"This should keep them asleep for a while."
Mary Jane, now fully herself again, felt a pang of guilt stab through her chest. She looked at her friends, memories of her own transformation resurfacing—fear, pain, confusion.
Would they suffer like I did?
The thought unsettled her.
Am I… really that selfish?
Necrolai noticed the spike in emotion immediately. Her gaze snapped toward Mary Jane.
"Do you pity them?" she asked coolly.
Mary Jane stiffened, then responded instantly, her voice filled with fawning loyalty.
"No, my queen. You are always right."
Necrolai laughed softly and waved her concern away.
"They'll join our family soon enough," she said. "Once they understand how powerful we are… how long we live… they'll thank you."
Mary Jane nodded slowly.
After all, who wouldn't want immortality?
Then the mist began to fade.
And Gwen and Kira were still standing.
Unmoving. Awake. Unaffected.
Their eyes were cold now—sharp, focused, locked onto Necrolai and Mary Jane with unsettling clarity.
Necrolai's amusement vanished instantly.
Her voice dropped into a low, furious snarl.
"What?! How is this possible?!"