“Now that the gems are useless, I have no power. Which I am eternally grateful for. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed my time as a ranger but I’m glad the power has finally chosen to skip me for once.” He laughed slightly. Kimberly couldn’t help but giggle too. But her mood turn solemn quickly. She lowered her head and started to cry softly.

“Sometimes I wish I hadn’t given it up. Who knows where’d I’d be today if I hadn’t, but sometimes I wonder.” Kimberly shook off her tears. How embarrassing. And boy did she leave that door wide open for Tommy to start asking his tirade of questions!

“How was it, when you left? How was Florida? Did you enjoy your time at the Pan Globals? The team missed you. We watched you compete. You were great. What made you send the letter? Why didn’t we talk after Muranthias? I’m sorry I didn’t keep in better contact, I didn’t know if you’d want to, and I was busy with school, what have you been doing with your life? Do you still do gymnastics? Where do you live now? How long have you lived there? Jason mentioned something about Angel Grove, but I don’t really remember and–” Kimberly’s eyes flew open as the nightmare disappeared. She was panting, and covered in a cold sweat. She couldn’t believe what she’d just seen. Rita and Tommy…. And neither of them wanted her. As much as she admitted to say it, she felt that deep down, Rita had been right. She had done this to herself, made herself this way. Who would want her like this? The dream came back to her, and she played it over and over in her mind, until she was convinced of one thing. She felt it was the only correct thing she could do.

Rita shook her head as she removed the device from her forehead. She noticed her minions around her. They had been watching the entire dream through the small viewing screen. “Finster that device is genius!” she cackled.        "The deed is done," Angel said, demorphing. He turned to Tommy. "How'd you guys do?"

         "57% damage to Pterodactyl, 7% damage to Tyrranosaurus, an estimated total of 17 hours worth of repairs," Zord-1 answered. "Drone should be pleased, he's had little to do lately."

         "Drone?" Tommy asked, the name ringing a faint bell.

         "One of Zord-1's assistants," Fox answered. "He has three: Pilot, the little talking laptop-thing, Diskette, the little talking hovering thing, and Drone, who rolls around on tank treads. He's like the maintenance man around here."

         "And an excellent job he does," Zord-1 said.