Harwood County was quieter at night — the kind of quiet that felt temporary.

The marina lights reflected across the water in long gold streaks, and the breeze carried the faint hum of traffic from the city beyond. For a moment, it almost felt normal.

Almost.

The door to Gosei’s chamber slid open with a familiar mechanical sound, and the Rangers filtered out one by one — still half in mission mode, half exhausted.

Jake was the loudest, as usual.

“I’m just saying,” he argued, helmet tucked under his arm, “if we had gone with my plan, that thing would’ve been down in five minutes.”

“It was down in five minutes,” Noah replied calmly, adjusting his glasses. “Your plan would have resulted in catastrophic structural damage.”

Gia rolled her eyes. “Translation: you would’ve blown up the pier.”

Emma laughed softly, brushing wind-tangled hair from her face. “At least it would’ve been dramatic.”

They all kept walking — until they realized someone wasn’t with them.

Troy stood a few steps back.

Still.

Watching the water like it was telling him something.

The others slowed.

Jake turned. “Uh-oh. He’s doing the stare again.”

Gia crossed her arms. “You mean the ‘I’m having a mysterious vision but won’t elaborate’ thing?”

Troy didn’t react at first. His jaw was set, posture straight, shoulders squared even though the fight was over. The red of his suit had faded back to civilian clothes, but the leader energy hadn’t.

“It’s not over,” he said quietly.

The teasing stopped.

Emma stepped closer. “What did you see?”

Troy finally looked at them — really looked at them. There was something heavier behind his eyes. Not fear. Not exactly.

Responsibility.

“A fleet,” he said. “Bigger than anything we’ve faced. And we weren’t alone.”

Noah’s brow furrowed. “Not alone how?”

Troy hesitated, like he was sorting through pieces he didn’t fully understand. “Other Rangers. Past teams.”

Jake blinked. “Okay, that’s either awesome or very bad.”

“It’s both,” Troy answered.

A breeze cut through the silence.

Gia studied him for a second before stepping forward. “You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“The ‘I’m going to carry the fate of the world by myself’ thing.”

Emma nodded gently. “You don’t have to do that, Troy.”

For a second — just a second — something vulnerable flickered across his expression. Then it smoothed back into composure.

“I know,” he said.

But he didn’t sound convinced.

Jake bumped his shoulder lightly. “Hey, Red. If a giant alien armada shows up, we’ll handle it. Like we always do.”

Noah adjusted his glasses again. “Strategically.”

Emma smiled. “Together.”

Gia gave him a firm look. “You’re our leader. Not our martyr.”

The corner of Troy’s mouth lifted — small, but real.

“Together,” he repeated.

Sirens wailed faintly in the distance. The city kept moving. The world kept spinning, unaware of how close it always was to disaster.

Troy looked back at the water one last time — at the reflection of the lights, at the horizon where sky met dark.

Whatever was coming, he would be ready.

And so would they.

Because in Harwood County, the fights never really ended.

They just waited for the next call.