Oliver's consciousness drifted back amid the low hum of engines and the subtle sway of the vehicle beneath him. His body ached, every muscle protesting as if he'd been through a grinder—which, considering recent events, wasn't far from the truth. A pounding headache throbbed in sync with his heartbeat.
“Hey, hey! I think he’s waking up.”
Blinking against the harsh overhead lights, Oliver's vision slowly adjusted. Seated across from him were two figures. The first was a lanky boy with pale skin and unruly brown hair, eyes sharp and observant. Next to him was a girl with her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, a bright smile illuminating her face despite the surroundings.
"Give him a break. He's probably still dazed," the girl said, gently nudging the boy back into his seat.
"Wh-where am I?" Oliver rasped, his throat dry and scratchy.
"You're on the finest shuttle headed straight to Earth's own version of hell—the Academy. Welco back to the land of the living," the boy replied with heavy sarcasm. It also helped Oliver understand why he had been gagged until recently.
Fragnts of mory flashed through Oliver's mind: the chaotic clash with Orks, a glimpse of a Red Ranger. "Are we... in the transport truck?" he asked, trying to piece everything together.
"Yep," the girl confird patiently. "Since you didn't wake up after all that commotion, they loaded you in here with us. We're all en route to the Academy."
"What happened to the Orks?" he pressed.
"Wait, wait—that's the best part!" the girl exclaid, leaping up to peer out a small window.
Oliver glimpsed an expansive desert stretching endlessly beneath a pale sky through the reinforced glass. The transport truck rumbled into a heavily fortified military base. The boy stood up to observe the driver and the front of the truck. He stretched to look through the small window between the passengers and the driver but found no one.
"The Truck's on autopilot. Army safety rules," the boy said after seeing Oliver's curious look.
Like their truck, other trucks also started arriving at the base. Though they slowed down, each kept moving forward. Gradually, they could see that each transport was entering a cargo plane, and soon, theirs did the sa.
"I always knew the Academy wasn't anywhere nearby, but all this secrecy makes it so much more exciting!" the girl bead, her enthusiasm palpable. The boy beside her seed less impressed, leaning his head against the tal wall with a resigned sigh.
“Damn it. Damn it. I can’t believe I missed my chance to get out of here.” The boy rested his head in his hand while speaking defeatedly.
“Sorry. But I forgot to ask, who are you guys?” Oliver asked, rembering that he still didn't know them.
Finally, a question of interest to the three of them. The girl returned to her seat, and the boy stopped grumbling.
"Nice to et you! I'm Isabela from Sector 55, and just like you, I'm fifteen," she said cheerfully.
"Na's Alan," the boy added with a nod.
"Good to et you both. I'm—" Oliver began.
"Oliver. Height: 1.69 ters. Blood type: O positive. We know," Isabela interrupted.
Oliver stared at her, taken aback. He wasn't even sure he knew his own blood type.
"Relax," Alan chuckled. "We overheard the guards when they tossed you in here."
A brief silence enveloped the trio, but this ti it felt less awkward. Now that they at least knew each other's nas, a superficial camaraderie began to form.
"So let ask again—what happened back there? Who was that guy in red?" Oliver broke the silence, his curiosity piqued.
Isabela's eyes widened in disbelief. "What? How do you not know who the 'guy in red' is?" she exclaid, her voice rising in pitch.
"Yeah, the Ranger who showed up at the end. He seed incredibly powerful," Oliver added, still trying to piece everything together.
"How do you not know Liam Ryder!? Don't you watch any vids or read the newsfeeds? He's the newest Red Ranger. Besides being..." Her voice trailed off into a whisper, but in the confined space of the truck, her fangirling was impossible to miss. A deep blush spread across her cheeks.
The truck began to shudder again—not accelerating, but shifting. It felt like the cargo plane was finally maneuvering on the runway. The three fell silent, attuned to every creak and hum as the aircraft sped up and took off into the sky.
"Even I, who don't follow that stuff, know who he is. Have you been living under a rock?" Alan asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm as they settled into the flight.
"Hey! I had to work, and I don’t usually watch vids from Rangers. They are so cliché," Oliver retorted. It was partially true; he did not watch vids, however, for a different reason. Accessing the Net was difficult without a personal device. He had no computer, holo-screen, or any kind of phone.
Becoming a Ranger was the most common dream among children. Besides the money, there was guaranteed fa. Rangers were always featured in TV shows; most even had their own channel. The competition to beco a Ranger was so fierce that nurous casinos organized bets on which recruits would make it.
Of course, there were other paths to becoming a Ranger besides the Academy, but those were convoluted and often required significant political clout from corporations or Houses. Even heirs of influential families often chose to test their ttle at the Academy.
"But you at least know where we're headed, right?" Isabela asked, studying him closely. If he didn't know about Rangers, perhaps he was equally unaware of the Academy's true nature.
"Of course! Hmph, at fifteen, everyone has to do their mandatory service—training at the Academy to serve in the New Earth Army," Oliver replied with a touch of wounded pride. He might not be up-to-date on popular culture, but he wasn't clueless.
"Yes, but you realize that's how you beco a Ranger?" Isabela said gently, a slight smile tugging at her lips.
"Oh... I didn't know that part," Oliver admitted, a bit embarrassed. He scratched his head, avoiding their gazes.
"Are you sure you're human?" Isabela whispered, half-joking.
Oliver raised an eyebrow at her. Deep down, he wasn't entirely sure. The ti he'd spent in the VAT had left him questioning what, if anything, had changed within him.
"Of course I am. I just don't follow Rangers much. Anyway, how long until we reach the Academy?" he asked, eager to shift the conversation.
"Sorry, but on Academy Airlines, you'll never know where you're going or when you'll arrive," Alan interjected. "You really think they'd give us any info?" He seed to speak only when there was an opportunity for sarcasm.
They lapsed into silence again. Despite sharing this journey, they knew little about one another. The atmosphere remained tense and tinged with nerves—except perhaps for Isabela, whose excitent was palpable.
Restless, Oliver stood and paced the small passenger area, peering out each window to glimpse the cargo hold. After several minutes, slivers of light pierced through, revealing their truck lined up in neat rows among dozens of others.
For a fleeting mont, Oliver considered opening the door but thought better of it. If escape were that easy, Alan would have already attempted. The others joined him at the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of anything that might hint at their destination.
After what felt like hours but was likely only minutes, they sensed the plane beginning its descent.
Without warning, the cargo bay doors yawned open, but that wasn't the worst of it. Their truck lurched backward, inching toward the edge of the plane.
"D-do they know we're still in here?" Isabela stamred, her eyes wide with fear.
The two boys exchanged a glance, their faces pale. Their throats tightened, and they were unsure whether to shout or stay silent.
Oliver dashed to the front of the truck, trying to see through the small window into the driver's cabin.
‘Can I get to the controls?’ he thought frantically. But the window was too narrow for any of them to squeeze through.
Before he could devise a plan, the trucks ahead began to roll off the plane, one after another, launched into the sky. Their turn was imminent.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Oliver yelled as their vehicle edged backward.
"I can't die yet—I haven't even t a Ranger!" Isabela cried, tears welling in her eyes.
"I knew coming here was a mistake. I should've run when I had the chance..." Alan murmured, his voice a broken record of regret.
Their screams lded into a collective howl as gravity took hold. The truck plumted, and they clung to their seats, desperately trying not to be tossed around like rag dolls.
Then, a sudden jolt.
The sound of parachutes deploying filled the air as the truck's descent slowed. Their grips loosened, and they cautiously peered out the windows.
Outside, hundreds of transport trucks descended beneath massive canopies, floating like chanized dandelion seeds toward a sprawling complex below.
As they broke through a layer of clouds, the Academy ca into view.
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