Battle Of Planets
Chapter 40: War has begun

Chapter 40: War has begun

At the sight of the President’s lifeless body, Liora, his wife, let out a strangled gasp before her knees gave way beneath her. Tyson lunged forward, catching her just in time, his arms shaking as he held her delicate frame.

Shuan rushed to help, holding Liora’s other arm, but the burden of sorrow rendered her body limp. Her breathing was shallow, her face pale, as though all the life had been sucked out from her the moment her husband dropped dead.

Seraphina fell to her knees a few feet away, her hands clawing at the floor as if trying to grasp reality itself. Her wide, tear-filled eyes stayed locked on her father’s body, refusing to blink, refusing to accept what was right in front of her. Coco had executed him—right before her eyes—and she had done nothing. Nobody had acted at all.

A shattered breath escaped her lips. "F-Father..." The word barely formed, her voice breaking into silence.

A trembling hand reached out to her—Alex. His fingers brushed against her shoulder before he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly to shield her from the cruel world that had just taken her father away. His body was stiff, his breath heavy with suppressed fury. His eyes, set upon the chaos in front of him, burned with rage as his jaw clenched tightly. Yet, his grip on Seraphina remained gentle.

Tyson stood frozen, his heartbeat pounding against his ribs. A wave of sorrow crashed into him like a merciless tide, drowning him in guilt and disbelief. The same man who had once shared quiet moments with him, playing golf and offering guidance, now lay lifeless on the ground. Cold. Motionless. Gone.

His fingers curled into fists. He had failed to protect him.

His vision blurred as he stared at the President’s body, his breath catching. A sickening hollowness settled in his chest, pressing down like an unbearable weight. He should have done something, He should have saved him.

But he didn’t. Now, the City has lost its leader.

The Rangers froze, their bodies paralyzed, their feet refusing to move. Time seemed to stand still, trapping them in that terrible instant.

The Lieutenant swallowed hard, his throat dry. General Rogers had entrusted him and Captain Barnes with the President’s protection. The Captain had fought until he fell unconscious, refusing to give in. And what have I done?

Nothing.

He just stood there, watching the President being executed like a helpless bystander.

A violent tremor ran through his clenched fists, and uncontrollable fury raged in his chest. His defeat was intolerable, but he wasn’t the only one drowning in a fury—next to him, the Rangers trembled, their faces twisted in horror and boiling anger.

On the other hand, the Rogues stood in stunned silence, their eyes wide and expressions frozen in shock. They had never intended for this to happen; they only wanted an apology and to demonstrate that they wouldn’t remain oppressed as before.

There was no going back now.

Coco had burned all bridges.

They would never be welcomed back into society, especially after what had just occurred.

Blue staggered forward, coming to stand by the President’s lifeless body. His shaking fingers hovered above the man who once ruled over them, a mix of regret and horror contorting his face. His words were uncertain, almost a whisper.

"W-What have you done?"

Coco didn’t say anything.

His dark eyes examined the expressions of his people—the betrayal, the disbelief, and the silent accusations that screamed louder than words ever could.

And yet, he remained still, watching, unwavering.

"Kill them!" Alex roared, his voice shaking with unrestrained fury. "I will fucking kill them all!"

The Rangers, jolted back to reality by his war cry, felt their rage erupt like a volcano. For too long, duty had restrained them, forcing them to hold back against these criminals. But now? They didn’t care. They would paint this entire battlefield with Rogue’s blood.

A thunderous battle cry broke free as the Rangers advanced, their united voices resembling a deadly tempest.

Tyson stood frozen, observing his fellow Rangers as a powerful killing intent filled the air like wildfire. He had always seen the Rangers approach the Rogues with measured caution, aware that—one day—they might have to fight beside them.

But now he felt as if that unspoken truce had vanished. There was no hesitation—no mercy.

Blue and Raine spun around, horror flashing in their eyes as they witnessed the storm ready to engulf them. Their fellow Rogues gathered behind, desperation etched on their faces, hoping to halt what was coming.

"Guys, it wasn’t us!" Blue shouted, his voice strained. "We never meant for this to happen... Please, listen!"

"You have to listen to us!" Raine insisted, stepping forward with hands raised. "We only wanted—"

"Bloodbath," Coco broke in, his voice ice-cold. His eyes remained lowered, pinned on the ground as if detached from the chaos surrounding him. "Are not those the kinds of things you always wanted?"

"Shut up!" Dex said, rage and betrayal twisted onto his features. "You screwed us, man!"

Coco breathed slowly, his tone like a blade cutting through the tension. "I said I would get the President to apologize for his sins. And I did." His expression darkened as he finally looked up. "But not be able to save my wife... That is the most heinous crime he ever did."

A deep silence lingered in the air.

Coco’s following words sounded like a death sentence.

"No. Allowing you people to live in the same city as us... That was his greatest crime."

The Rogues looked at him in disbelief.

They had followed him, trusted him, and believed in him. He was meant to be one of them—someone who understood their struggles, who had chosen to fight for their cause because he understood what it meant to be oppressed.

But it appears He had never genuinely regarded himself as one of them.

"I get it now... You were always with them," Dex growled, his voice rising to a furious shout. "You played us! You tricked us into this mess, and you even killed one of our own just to justify your crime!"

His accusation cut through the air like a knife.

"Damn Rangers... You’ve always been cunning!"

A murmur spread among the Rogues as Dex’s words sank in. Suspicion took hold, and they nodded one by one, their expressions chanding from confusion to resentment.

If what Coco said was true, would he ever be on their side? Had he always been working for the Rangers?

He had just wanted all Rogues eliminated—wasn’t that proof enough?

Gradually, a perilous awareness seeped among them.

This must have been the Rangers’ plan all along. A calculated setup to justify their schemes. They orchestrated this moment, trapped the Rogues in a corner, and now, as usual, they would turn around and blame them for everything.

"We won’t be fooled by this again!" one rogue shouted. "They’re just a bunch of schemers!"

The outcry spread rapidly. Rogues began shouting, demanding that the cameraman capture everything, eager to reveal what they perceived as the Rangers’ grand deception to the entire city.

Coco stood still amid the chaos. He had achieved it, and the moment he’d spent decades planning had finally arrived.

Meanwhile, Tyson’s gaze shifted to Alex. His brother was storming out of the building, exuding rage, and his intent was unmistakable. Tyson understood that if Alex spoke now, he would incite everyone into a bloodbath—truth and lies be damned.

"Shaun, look after them," Tyson said urgently. Without waiting for a reply, he quickly followed Alex.

"Guys, pay attention to him!" Blue shouted desperately, trying to break through the noise. "Coco created this mess! He’s the one who should pay for it!"

However, it was too late.

Alex stepped forward, his katana shining under the lights. Just his presence silenced the battlefield.

"Each one of you will pay for this." His voice was icy, his rage total.

Blue’s stomach sank. He could sense beneath the mask of Alex—there was no reasoning with him. The Red Ranger wasn’t in the mood to listen. To him, words were meaningless now.

Tyson dashed forward, eager to prevent his brother from harm.

"Alex, wait—"

But before he could finish, Alex pushed him aside, tightening his grip around the blade.

"Lieutenant, please tell him to stop!" Tyson shouted, desperation tinging his voice. "We need to think this through!"

The lieutenant stood frozen, his shoulders burdened by the weight of failure. His gaze remained fixed on the ground, and his voice was barely a whisper. "I failed to protect the president... I have no right to say anything."

Tyson clenched his fists, his heart pounding in his chest. He turned to his brother, his eyes pleading. "Alex, please..."

However, Alex had lost all sense of reason; he was engulfed by rage reminiscent of Tyson’s past fury.

"I don’t care whether you fight," he roared. "I’m not asking anyone to follow me, but I won’t let them escape. Not a single one. Every Rogue here was involved in the President’s execution. They threatened, they hurt, they killed our loved ones. And today, I will avenge them all."

A voice emerged from the crowd. "He’s right! Eliminate these monsters before they claim another innocent life!"

That was all it took.

A thunderous roar erupted from the Rangers, a battle cry that reverberated through the air. Their anger was unbound by duty, an unbridled thirst for vengeance, as if their fury had transformed into a storm.

The metallic clink and clatter of armor filled the air as the Rangers assumed their combat stances. They leaped, dashed, and sprinted, their movements becoming a blur of determination. Each focused on a target, ready to take down anything in their path.

The air was charged with raw bloodlust.

Across the battlefield, the Rogues retreated, their faces etched with uncertainty. This was not the battle they had come for. Coco’s betrayal had shattered their unity, and now they were in a nightmare they could not have anticipated.

But they had no other option.

With weapons drawn and instincts on high alert, the Rogues charged forward—driven not by strategy but by the sheer need to survive.

The real war had just begun.