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Battle Of Planets-Chapter 5: Nancy’s father
Chapter 5: Nancy's father
Tyson's eyes flicked over to Nancy, but neither of them spoke. A silence settled between them.
It was awkward. He could feel her presence next to him, a rustle of her hair, and the faint scent of her perfume that lingered in the air. But He didn't know what to say.
Nancy kept her gaze focused on the water, though Tyson could feel her glancing at him now and then. Her fingers absently toyed with lock of her hair.
Tyson shifted, trying to shake off the strange feeling, He wanted to say something, anything, but his mind was blank. What was he supposed to say?
Nancy, noticing his struggle, quickly pulled her legs from the river, her foot splashing water across the rocks.
She looked down at her shoes "Sorry," she muttered, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips. "I'm... not great at this whole small-talk things"
Tyson blinked, trying to find a way to ease the discomfort. "No, it's not... It's not that," he said, his voice coming out rushed, "I guess I'm too not good at it"
The silence stretched between them once more. Tyson glanced at Nancy again, her eyes now fixed on the water. He couldn't help but notice how her shoulders were slightly hunched while her chest went up and down as she breathed.
Nancy turned her head slowly, locking eyes with him. The moment their gazes met, Tyson felt the air between them shift.
She exhaled softly, "You know, it's okay to not have everything figured out. I mean, I don't. So, I guess we're both in the same boat,"
Tyson couldn't help but let out a small laugh, "Yeah...guess we are."
Tyson felt the tension between them easing, the silence no longer feeling so heavy. Nancy's soft smile lingered in his mind, a warmth he hadn't expected, and suddenly, the night air seemed more inviting.
He stood, brushing the stray sand off his pants, and nodded toward the path that led further into the Park.
"You want to walk for a bit?" Tyson asked,
Nancy looked up, She hesitated for a moment, then stood and stretched her legs as she joined him. "Yeah, that sounds nice."
They started walking, the river's soft rush accompanying their steps. Neither of them spoke immediately, but this time, the silence felt comfortable.
The night sky above them was vast and endless, the stars scattered across the canvas like a dream.
As they walked side by side, Tyson noticed the way the moonlight caught Nancy's hair, the bounce of her step, and how her hands moved as if she were lost in thought.
The rhythmic crunch of their footsteps against the dirt path as well as comfort on their faces.
"You know, I always loved the night sky," she said quietly. "Back home, there wasn't much to see. But here... it's different. It feels like there's so much to see"
Tyson smiled, following her gaze. "I get what you mean. It's like the whole world feels a little more open like there's room to breathe."
She glanced at him. "Exactly"
They continued walking in comfortable silence, their footsteps in sync with the nocturnal sounds of the park.
It was a simple moment, yet for Tyson, it felt like a small victory—a step forward in bridging the gap between them. They were no longer strangers but two people sharing the serenity of the night beneath the stars.
The park was an anomaly in their world of towering steel and advancing machinery. It felt timeless, almost blessed, a glimpse of Earth's past maintained in a bubble of lush greenery.
The Quiet River ranged through, its murmurs blending with the occasional chirp of nightly creatures.
The air smelled of the earthy scent of damp soil and blooming wildflowers—the opposite of the sterile precision of the advanced city beyond.
The Faintly glowing pathways lit their way, while trees shimmered with manmade lighting cast a glow over the scene.
"So, when did you get that Meta-bot?" Nancy broke the silence, her voice soft.
Tyson glanced at her, "Around five years ago, I think," he said his tone thoughtful. "At first, I was terrified, you know? It's not exactly normal to feel something like that...attached to you."
She smiled a mix of understanding and curiosity, "But now?"
"Now," he said, pausing to consider his words, "I'm getting used to it. Sometimes, it feels more like a part of me than something external."
Nancy stopped suddenly, her gaze dropping to his chest. She tilted her head slightly, "Can I touch it?"
Tyson caught off guard, "y-Yeah, of course"
She reached out hesitantly, her fingertips brushing against the metallic surface beneath his shirt.
The faint warmth of her touch seemed to stir something within the Meta-bot. A soft, white light flickered under the cotton fabric, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. Nancy pulled her hand back slightly.
"It's... alive," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the river.
"Kind of," Tyson replied, his expression softening. "It responds to me like it knows what I need before I do. But it's not really alive—it's just... advanced."
Nancy met his gaze, her hand lingering near her chest as if to hold onto the sensation. "It's incredible,"
"Yeah... Is it your first time touching a Meta-bot?" Tyson asked curiously.
"No," Nancy replied immediately, her voice carrying a weight, "My dad was a Ranger. White Ranger, to be specific."
Tyson stopped in his tracks, surprised. "A White Ranger?" he echoed, his voice tinged with both curiosity and awe.
Nancy nodded, her gaze distant, as if she were sifting through memories that only she could see. "Yeah. He fought with the same Meta-bot you have now...the White Ranger armor. I know it sounds strange, but... I just know it. I feel it. It's like seeing him again. The way it moves, the way it reacts to you... it's almost like he's still here."
A chill ran down Tyson's spine. He had always felt an unspoken bond with his Meta-bot, something beyond just technology. It was as if it understood him on a level no one else could but hearing Nancy's words made him think otherwise.
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"You're sure?" he asked hesitantly,
"I am," she said firmly, then hesitated. "It's one of the reasons my mom and I moved to this city. To be close to—" She broke off, hugging her arms as if bracing herself against the tide of emotion threatening to break free.
"To what?" Tyson prompted gently,
Nancy shook her head, offering a faint, sad smile. "It's nothing. Just... don't misunderstand. We don't have any ulterior motives. We just wanted to be close to something of his... to keep a part of him alive."
Tyson stood there, his mind racing. The weight of her words made him feel like a piece of his own puzzle had just fallen into place, yet it also added a complexity he hadn't expected.
He looked at Nancy, for a moment, he didn't know what to say. Then he replied, "I'm... sorry. I didn't know."
Nancy looked up at him, her eyes glossy but steady. "It's okay"
Tyson hesitated and then took a small step closer, his voice more certain now. "For what it's worth, I'll take care of it. Of your dad's armor, I mean."
Her lips curved into a faint, grateful smile. "I know you will. That's why it chose you."
"Or maybe it made a mistake," Tyson said, trying to smile. Deep down, he never trusted himself to begin with, and his words carried the shadow of his doubts.
"No," she said firmly, her voice steady and filled with conviction. "It never makes mistakes. There's a reason why it chose you. There must be."
Her certainty caught Tyson off guard. For the first time, he felt the flicker of something unfamiliar—hope.
"My dad died during the tournament. It wasn't just a battle for him—it was about something greater. The moment he stepped into that place he knew it was the end for him, everyone knew yet he fought against them. He fought to protect us, fought to protect me, for everyone"
A silent sob escaped from her lips, Tyson nodded slowly, trying to process her words as her words began to sink in him.
He had always felt a sense of duty as a Ranger, but he had never thought about it in this way—about the legacy he was stepping into.
"You know," Nancy added, her voice thick with emotion, "I wasn't old enough to truly understand who he was in the tournament. I just knew he was... he was the strongest, the bravest, the kind of man who would never back down. He was a Ranger who doesn't just wear the armor—they embody it. The meta-bot isn't just a weapon—it's a partner, a part of him. And that's how my dad saw it."
Her words hit Tyson hard. He had always viewed his meta-bot as a tool—something to be controlled, to fight with. But Nancy was showing him a different side of it. This wasn't just a fight to prove himself; this was part of a bigger legacy, one that tied him to her father and all the other White Rangers who had come before him.
"He was a part of Rangers because he believed in something bigger than himself. He believed in protecting people, in doing the right thing—even when it cost him everything." As Nancy spoke, her hands trembled slightly, and she wiped away a tear.
She wasn't just sharing her father's legacy—she was letting him go again, letting Tyson step into the role that her father had been forced to leave behind. "And now you're carrying that same legacy. You're the White Ranger now and..."
As Nancy spoke of her father, Tyson's meta-bot seemed to hum softly against his body. It was almost imperceptible, but Tyson swore he could feel it—a subtle pulse, like the armor recognized Nancy's words, as if it too carried the echoes of a legacy.
"It's not about winning the tournament. It's about protecting people, about living up to what he—and the others—fought for. I know it's a lot to take in, but Tyson... you have the chance to be a part of something far bigger than any of us."
Tyson felt a deep knot in his stomach. The weight of Nancy's words settled deep within him, but it felt like a heavy chain. Could he embody what her father had fought for? He'd always felt like a stranger in this armor, a mere boy in a warrior's suit. But now, the pressure of his duty felt real—too real to ignore.
"I don't know if I can live up to that," Tyson admitted quietly, his voice full of doubt. "I don't know if I can carry that legacy."
Nancy stopped walking for a moment, turning to face him. There was a gentleness in her gaze. "You are not carrying that legacy alone; you're not supposed to carry the weight of the world by yourself. That's what he always believed —working together, fighting for something bigger than your reasons...You see your meta-bot, it's not just a machine—it's a part of you, a part of the legacy of those who wore it before you and those who will wear it after you"
Tyson took a deep breath, looking at her, and for the first time, he began to understand. This wasn't just about fighting in the tournament. This was about standing as a beacon, a protector, and a representative of all people who had fought and died for the survival of humanity.
"You're right," Tyson said slowly, "I can't forget why I'm doing this. It's more than just winning and losing. It's about living up to what your dad and what all the Rangers stood for."
Nancy stepped closer as she reached for his hands. She took them gently, her fingers warm against his. "You're not alone in this, Tyson," she said, her voice steady yet filled with emotion.
Tyson looked down at their joined hands, feeling a sense of calm wash over him that he hadn't realized he needed. For the first time in a while, he felt truly supported by someone who believed in him.
He smiled and before he could second-guess himself, he leaned forward and pulled her into a hug.
Nancy stiffened for a brief moment, clearly caught off guard, but then she relaxed into the embrace. A faint blush colored her cheeks as her arms circled him.
The night seemed to quiet around them, the distant hum of the river fading into the background.