The rain had finally stopped, but Newtech City still smelled like smoke and static.
Inside the Command Delta Hauler, the hum of repair drones filled the silence. Sparks flashed. Metal groaned. One very tired ranger slumped over a control panel.
> Leo: "Note to self: don't duel an entire division on an empty stomach."
Delta, the base's AI, flickered into view — calm, patient, and slightly judgmental.
> Delta: "Nutritional reminder acknowledged. Would you like me to replicate something edible?"
Leo: "If by 'edible' you mean 'coffee,' then yes."
The hangar lights dimmed as the five Inverted Zords powered up from standby. The battle with SPD had pushed them to the edge, and they were… chatty.
> Delta Prowler: "My claws are cracked."
Guardian 7: "My right shoulder's dented."
Sky Saber: "I lost three paint panels."
Shadow Cruiser: "My pride is intact."
> Leo (deadpan): "Congratulations, Cruiser, you win the invisible medal."
They'd saved the city again, technically, but Leo could feel it — the team was running on instinct, not unity. They could fight with him, but not yet for him.
He leaned back, staring at the holographic schematic of the SPD insignia he'd inverted into crimson.
> "You know," he said, "SPD has squads. Letters. Structure. Maybe that's why they don't fall apart in arguments about paint jobs."
> Sky Saber: "Are you suggesting we… organize?"
Leo: "Don't sound so horrified. I'm not making uniforms."
He tapped the display. Five icons glowed — one for each Zord.
> "Congratulations, you're officially part of the Inverted Squad. Welcome to the most unofficial official team in SPD history."
---
Training Day
The next twenty-four hours looked less like "team bonding" and more like chaos rehearsals.
Leo set up a training simulation in an abandoned industrial district: holographic drones, dummy targets, and a lot of open space for explosions he swore were accidents.
> Leo: "Okay, goal's simple — coordination. Try not to hit me this time."
> Prowler: "No promises!"
Saber: "I call first airstrike!"
Cruiser: "This is going to end badly."
Guardian 7: "I'm logging this under 'inevitable disaster.'"
It did end badly. In under five minutes, a simulated warehouse was in flames, two holographic drones had escaped, and Leo's armor smelled like burnt ozone.
He sat on the hood of the Cruiser afterward, helmet off, laughing.
> "We're terrible at this."
> Cruiser: "Technically, Commander, you're terrible. We're efficient chaos."
> Leo: "That's… somehow worse."
Still, something had changed. They were laughing with him, not at him. The rhythm was there — messy, loud, but alive.
---
The Call
Delta interrupted the laughter with a new signal ping.
> "Commander, SPD emergency broadcast — sector 14. Cadet convoy ambushed by rogue automatons. Estimated casualties rising."
The mood snapped back to steel.
Leo stood, helmet sliding on with a soft click.
> "Looks like playtime's over. Squad, on me."
Moments later, the Hauler's launch bay opened, engines howling like thunder. The Inverted Zords took off, cutting through the clouds in formation — imperfect but unified.
> Leo: "All right, team. Let's show the galaxy that just because we're the shadows… doesn't mean we don't shine."
---
Rescue Operation
The convoy was pinned in a canyon outside the city — cadet transports surrounded by autonomous sentries, laser fire streaking across the rock walls.
Leo's voice crackled over the comms.
> Leo: "Guardian, shield the transports! Prowler, take the flank. Saber, crowd control from the air. Cruiser, clear me a path!"
For once, nobody argued.
Guardian 7 dropped in first, shields bracing the convoy from an explosive barrage. Prowler slashed through ground bots, claws sparking. Saber strafed from above, precision blasts taking out turrets.
Leo himself hit the ground running, dual blasters carving a path through debris.
> Cadet: "Wait— you're the rogue ranger!"
Leo (grinning): "Rogue, freelancer, local legend — call me what you want. Just duck."
He fired over the cadet's head, blowing apart an advancing automaton.
Within minutes, the field was clear. Smoke rolled off the wreckage. The cadets stared, unsure whether to salute or run.
Leo saluted them first.
> "Don't mention this to Command. I have an image to maintain."
Then he turned back to his comms.
> Leo: "Delta, call it — mission complete."
> Delta: "Confirmed. Casualties: zero. Structural damage: moderate. Commander's ego: elevated."
> Leo: "Perfect score."
---
Back Aboard the Hauler
The team gathered in the hangar, sparks still dancing off armor.
Leo looked at his squad — his family, in their own glitchy, mechanical way.
> Leo: "You did good out there."
> Guardian 7: "We were… coordinated."
Prowler: "And stylish."
Saber: "And loud."
Cruiser: "And slightly illegal."
> Leo (smirking): "Exactly. I'm proud of us."
Delta chimed in quietly, softer than usual.
> "Commander Leo, you have formed an effective unit. Would you like me to assign a designation?"
Leo thought for a moment, then smiled.
> "Yeah. Inverted Squad Alpha. Because we're the first to get it wrong… the right way."
The hangar lights flickered red in approval. Engines hummed like applause.
Leo turned to the window — Newtech's skyline shimmering in the distance, calm for now.
> "SPD's got squads. So do we. Difference is, ours doesn't ask for permission."
---
To be continued.