"The Rangers… those chosen wielders of the Morphing Grid. Children in brightly colored costumes pretending they can stand against the inevitable. They dare to call themselves protectors, saviors. To me, they are mere insects scurrying across the fragile fabric of existence, oblivious to the darkness that waits beneath their feet. I have watched them, all of them. The Power Rangers, the Dino Thunder, the Samurai, the Beast Morphers, the SPD… The names change, the colors shift, but the arrogance remains. Every generation of Rangers believes it can outlast me. Every generation falls."

"Oh, and the first Rangers. The Arbiter, their fabled warrior—he tried. He fought with all the strength his mortal frame could muster, and still, he fell. His sword, his courage, his grid-bound light—they were but sparks swallowed whole by my abyss. And you? You, who stand in his legacy? You will meet the same fate."

"And yet, there are others who enrage me more. The Flawless Military. Ah, yes. Your self-righteous little gathering of gods, geniuses, and pretenders. Rogexial—the goddess who dares to encompass everything, light, dark, chaos, and balance. She thinks herself untouchable, eternal, omnipotent. But even gods fall, Rogexial. Even you can be consumed by the void."

"Beatrice, Dexter… your meddling with the Morphing Grid has already cost you more than you realize. Do you not see the cracks you have made in the walls of reality? Every invention, every hack, every little breakthrough pulls me closer to your world. You are the architects of your own destruction, and I thank you for it."

"Xion, Saix, Roxas, Xemnas… I’ve seen your types before. Nobodies grasping at purpose, searching for meaning in a world that spits you out. Do you think your bonds, your friendships, your unity will save you? They won’t. They’ll only make your fall all the more satisfying. The stronger the light, the sweeter the darkness that swallows it."

"You fight for the light, but you will die in the dark."*