Weight of the World-p.r.s

08-threat

Jane Wolfe had always hated being the silver samurai ranger. She had always craved a sense of normality, a sense of peace, instead of fighting a war she knew she was going to die in. It was an act of fate, snuffing out the lives of the only ones who could fight for peace. It was a depressing slap in the face, a sword to the gut if you weren't careful. It was always about being careful- staying on your toes, even in sleep. If you weren't careful, you became a memorial, a story told about a hero who bravely fought with tooth and nail until the bitter end, an end that was too soon. Or so they say. They knew exactly what they were doing, sending soldiers to their deaths and then thrusting the responsibilities of the fallen on the soldiers' children, who had also become soldiers in a never-ending war. It was a cycle that repeated itself for seventeen generations now- and Jane Wolfe knew there was going to be the eighteenth generation.

Jane bounced her daughter in her arms, cooing at the girl with a small smile on her face. The girl, now four, had her father's hair and eyes, black, and grey respectively, and the same pale skin tone. Jane's small smile fell when she noticed the purple bruises near her daughter's veins. They were bruises caused by various needles, a bitter reminder of what being a ranger did to you.

Brooke Wolfe wasn't a shifter like her mother. While her bone structure showed the ability to be, the four-year-old wasn't. Being the silver ranger was always accompanied by the ability to shift- so the Shiba Clan had taken it into their hands, to forcibly make Brooke the silver ranger. That meant various injections of blood of past silver rangers, taken from bodies of fallen soldiers. It was blood experimentation on a four-year-old who didn't know what they were doing to her, they had always used a symbol power to knock her out. So they could do their experimentation in peace. An experiment that Jane found utterly disgusting, too villainous for the so-called "defenders of peace".

Jane had begged, on hands and knees, to leave her daughter out of the collateral damage. Just to let Brooke live a normal life, that there were already five samurai rangers, they didn't need a sixth. They all had just shot her the same sympathetic look, muttering apologies under their breaths, apologies that meant nothing as they whisked Jane's daughter out of her arms. Jane had fought, with tooth and nail, to get her back. She had screamed and cursed the red ranger's name with every word, damning him to hell and back. Jane knew that the "great red ranger" had a son, a blue-eyed boy named Jayden that Brooke sometimes babbled about. So, why didn't he care? He knew what it was like to have a child, so why was he doing this to hers?

When Brooke came home one day, and Jane saw the canines that were too pointed for a four-year-old to have, Jane realized she couldn't stay. Not with the team, not with her husband, not with her daughter. She was too disgusted, too heartbroken. So Jane Wolfe stormed into the Shiba House and took everything that pertained to her bullshit title of "the silver ranger". She had also given the red ranger a satisfying punch to the nose, and a feeling of joy filled in her chest when she heard the faint crack of the bone breaking. As the man clutched his nose- with a stupid wide-eyed look on his face, Jane broke into a sinister grin, eyes a pure gold and her lips curled around her canines in a sneer. With venom dripping from her words, she spoke.

"Good luck trying to win a losing war."

Then, she left. Jane left the power disks, Wolf Kunai, and archives with her husband, and her samuraizer, zord, and katanas with her sister, leaving Panorama and falling in love with a new man. They had a son, a light brown-haired, green-eyed boy named Maxxwell, and Jane put all her time and devotion into her son. Protecting him from the world she couldn't protect her daughter from. Of course, she had put precautions in place for Brooke. A way for her daughter to forget about her fate entirely, and those precautions laid with Jane's sister, Mary Wolfe.