Nancy's father

Tyson's gaze shifted to Nancy, but neither said a word. A silence enveloped them.

It was awkward. He could feel her presence beside him, the rustle of her hair, and the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air. But he didn't know what to say.

Nancy fixed her gaze on the water, though Tyson could occasionally feel her glancing at him. Her fingers absently played with a lock of her hair.

Tyson shifted, attempting to shake off the strange feeling. He wanted to say something—anything—but his mind was blank. What was he supposed to say?

Noticing his struggle, Nancy quickly pulled her legs from the river, splashing water across the rocks with her foot.

She looked down at her shoes. "Sorry," she muttered. "I'm... not great at this whole small talk thing."

Tyson tried to find a way to ease the discomfort. "No, it's not... It's not that," he said, "I guess I'm just not good at it either,"

The silence stretched between them once more. Tyson glanced at Nancy again; her eyes were now fixed on the water. He couldn't help but notice how her shoulders were slightly hunched while her chest rose and fell with each breath.

Nancy turned her head slowly, catching his gaze. Tyson sensed a change in the air between them as soon as their eyes met.

She exhaled softly. "You know, it's okay not to have everything figured out. I mean, I don't. So, guess we're both in the same boat."

Tyson couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah... I guess we are."

Tyson felt the tension easing, and he felt a warmth he hadn't expected. Suddenly, the night air seemed more inviting. 

He stood, brushing the stray sand from his pants, and nodded toward the path deeper into the park.

"Do you want to go for a walk for a bit?" Tyson asked,

Nancy looked up. She hesitated momentarily, then stood and stretched her legs before joining him. "Yeah, why not."

They heard the river's flow accompanying their every step as they walked, but they stayed silent most of the time. 

The night sky above them looked vast, with stars spread across the surface. 

As they walked side by side, Tyson noticed how the moonlight highlighted Nancy's hair, the rhythm 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 and the comfort on their faces.

"You know, I've always loved the stars," she said softly. "Back in my home, there wasn't much to see. But here… it feels different. It feels like there's so much to find and see"

Tyson smiled, following her gaze to the sky, "I understand what you mean. The world feels more open like there's space to breathe."

She glanced at him "Right"

They walked in comfortable silence, their footsteps blending with the park's nighttime sounds.

It was a simple moment, yet for Tyson, it felt like a small victory—a step closer to bridging the gap between them. They were no longer strangers but two people sharing the tranquility of the night beneath the stars.

The park was an anomaly in their towering steel and advancing machinery world. It felt timeless, almost blessed, a glimpse of Earth's past maintained in a bubble of lush greenery.

The smell of earth and wildflowers filled the air around them, totally opposite to the high-tech city in the distance.

"So, when did you get that Meta-bot?" Nancy broke the silence. 

"I think it was around five years ago," Tyson said, "At first, I was terrified, you know? It's not normal to feel something like that...attached to you."

She smiled with understanding and curiosity, "But what about now?"

"Now," he said, taking a moment to consider his words, "I'm getting used to it. Sometimes, it feels more like a part of me than something separate from myself."

Nancy halted abruptly, her gaze falling to his chest. She tilted her head slightly. "Can I touch it?"

Tyson, caught off guard, said, "Y-Yeah, of course."

She reached out cautiously, her fingertips grazing the metallic surface beneath his shirt.

The faint warmth of her touch appeared to awaken something within the Meta-bot. A white light flickered beneath the cotton fabric like a heartbeat. Nancy withdrew her hand back, in awe. 

"It's... alive," she whispered. 

"Kind of," Tyson replied, "It responds to me as if it knows what I need before I do. But it's not truly alive—it's just... advanced."

Nancy met his gaze, her hand lingering near her chest. "It's incredible."

"Yeah... Is this your first time touching a Meta-bot?" Tyson asked curiously. 

"No," Nancy replied immediately, "My dad was a Ranger—a white Ranger, to be specific."

Tyson halted in his tracks, "A White Ranger?" he repeated, his voice filled with curiosity. 

Nancy nodded, her gaze faraway, as if she were sifting through memories 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 feel it. It's like seeing him again. How it moves and reacts to you...it's almost as if he's still here."

A chill ran down Tyson's spine. He had always felt an unspoken bond with his Meta-bot, something more than just technology. It was as if it understood him like no one else, but hearing Nancy's words made him question everything. 

"You're sure?" he asked hesitantly,

"I am," she said firmly, "It's one of the reasons my mom and I moved to this city. To be close to—" She trailed off, hugging her arms as if bracing against the wave of emotion threatening to spill over.

"To what?" Tyson asked softly.

Nancy shook her head, "It's nothing... please don't misunderstand. We have no ulterior motives. We just wanted to be near something of his... to keep a part of him alive."

Tyson stood there, his mind racing. The weight of her words made him feel as though a piece of his puzzle had just fallen into place, but it also introduced a complexity he hadn't anticipated.

He glanced at Nancy for a moment, uncertain about what to say. Then he responded, "I'm... sorry. I didn't know."

Nancy gazed up at him, her eyes glossy yet steady. "It's alright."

Tyson hesitated and took a small step closer, his voice more confident now. "For what it's worth, I'll take care of it. Of your dad's armor, I mean."

Her lips turned up in a faint, appreciative smile. "I know you will. That's why it picked you."

"Or maybe it made a mistake," Tyson said, attempting a smile. Deep down, he never fully trusted himself, and his words reflected the shadow of his doubts.

"No," she said firmly, "It never makes mistakes. There's a reason it chose you. There has to be."

Her confidence was surprising for Tyson. She believed in him more than he did himself. 

"My dad died during the tournament. It wasn't just a battle for him; it was about something greater. He knew it was his end when he stepped into that place. Everyone knew, yet he fought against them. He fought to protect us, fought to protect me, and fought for everyone."

A silent sob escaped her lips. Tyson nodded slowly, trying to process her words as they sank in.

He had always felt a sense of duty as a Ranger, but he hadn't viewed it this way—reflecting on 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 knew he was the strongest, the bravest, the kind of man who would never back down. He was a Ranger who didn't just wear the armor—they embodied it. The meta-bot wasn't just a weapon but a partner, a part of him. And that's how my dad saw it."

Her words impacted Tyson deeply. He had always seen his meta-bot merely as an instrument—something to wield in battle. However, Nancy was revealing a different aspect of it to him. This wasn't just a fight to prove himself; this was part of a more significant legacy that tied him to her father and all the other White Rangers who had come before him.

"He was a part of the 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." Her hands trembled as Nancy spoke. 

She wasn't merely sharing her father's legacy—she was rereleasing him, allowing Tyson to take on the role her father had been compelled to abandon. "And now you're bearing 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 nearly imperceptible, but Tyson swore he could feel it—a subtle pulse, as if the armor recognized Nancy's words, carrying the echoes of a legacy.

"It's not about winning the tournament. It's about protecting people and living up to what he—and the others—fought for. I know it's a lot to take in, but Tyson, you can be part of something bigger than us."

Tyson felt a deep knot in his stomach. The weight of Nancy's words settled within him. Could he truly embody what her father had fought for? He had always felt like a stranger in this armor, just a boy in a warrior's suit. But now, the pressure of his duty seemed real—too genuine to ignore.

"I'm not sure if I can live up to that," Tyson admitted, his voice filled with uncertainty. "I'm not sure I can bear that legacy."

Nancy paused for a moment, turning to face him. There was a gentleness in her gaze. "You are not carrying that legacy alone; you're not meant to bear the world's weight alone. That's what he always believed—working together, fighting for something greater than your reasons... Your meta-bot is not just a machine—it's a part of you, part of the legacy of those who wore it before you and those who will wear it after you."

Tyson took a deep breath while looking at her, and for the first time, he began to understand. This wasn't just about competing in the tournament; it was about standing as a beacon, a protector, and a representative of all those 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 or losing; it's about living up to what your dad and all the Rangers stood for."

Nancy moved closer as she reached for his hands. "You're not alone in this, Tyson," she said, her voice filled with emotion.

Tyson looked at their joined hands and felt a wave of calm wash over him. It has been a long time since he felt this supported by someone besides his father. 

He smiled, leaned forward, and hugged her before he could second-guess himself.

Initially, Nancy tensed, surprised, but soon melted into the embrace. A blush colored her cheeks as her arms wrapped around him.

The night appeared to settle around them, with the distant hum of the river gradually fading into the background.