Jason Lee Scott (Altered)'s Arc

Chapter 1 of 11

Jason pulled away a steel beam and heard the voice beneath the rubble freeze. The woman trapped under the concrete slab went silent when his shadow fell across her face. Her eyes locked onto him — not his features, but something deeper. She knew. Her lips trembled before she whispered the words that cut through him: "Please don't finish it." He set the beam down slow and raised both hands where she could see them. "I'm not here for that," he said. His voice came out steady, the same tone he'd used back when leading meant something besides destruction. The woman's breathing stayed shallow and fast. Her fingers clutched something red against her chest — a small action figure, its paint chipped but the helmet still recognizable. The Red Ranger. Jason's chest tightened. She'd been holding onto that through the collapse of the old mall, through however many hours pinned under this slab. "I remember your voice," she said. Her words shook but her eyes stayed fixed on him. "You came through here with Drakkon's soldiers. You cleared the upper level." Jason didn't look away. He couldn't give her a denial because she was right. He reached for the rusted shovel he'd wedged into the debris pile and started working the concrete around her legs. Each scrape of metal on stone felt like penance. "That was me," he said. "And I can't take it back. But I can get you out." The slab shifted as he dug. She flinched, and he stopped until the structure settled. Then he kept going, slower this time, testing each piece before he moved it. When her legs came free, she didn't try to run. She just stared at the action figure in her hand, then at him. "Why?" she asked. Jason helped her sit up, his ghoul-strong grip careful not to bruise. "Because I'm trying to prove something," he said. "Maybe to people like you. Maybe to myself." She didn't thank him. But when he offered his arm, she took it.