Chapter Text
It starts like this: centuries ago in Japan, Nighlock monsters invaded the world but samurai rangers defeated them using power symbols passed from parent to child. And now they have returned.
No, it starts earlier than this. A goddess, a piece of pure divine is created, from pure darkness or from the depths of the ocean. The stories conflict as the arrogance of man twists the words of the goddesses. How she was born does not matter for she has been created for a long while. She is Nemesis, the goddess of revenge and retribution, she is the result of human greed, their gluttony (not of food, oh no, of their need for all and everything) and their pride. She is the personification of consequence, she is justice, and she is the keeper of balance. She is the fury of the gods and the fury of the humans. And that is a dangerous thing to be.
It starts with Zeus, as most stories go. Nemesis turned into a goose to run from the god of the skies, of kings and rulers, the king of the gods and ironically the god of justice.
(She seethes as the god of justice can commit any injustice or frankly any action he would like with no retribution, not a lick of any consequence. Maybe this is when she becomes what she is, or maybe it is when her poor daughter pays for a war she did not start with her life. Or perhaps when she guided Patroclus to strike down Sarpedon.)
It boils into her existence as she runs from him with an egg in her belly.
It starts when the Moirai comes to her as she sits in her nest, warming the egg. They come as sisters or perhaps they come as aunts to the child still in the hard womb of what structure and protection she can afford to give her daughter, a shell so hard no man can reach her.
“Nemesis” they call her, “there is a fate to be played and strings to cut.” Clotho spins and spins and spins and then Lachesis measures a short bit of the golden thread, the color of ichor, ichor that her first child will not have running through her veins as Atropos snaps the end. A way to signify the end of an age, an end of a girl who will know nothing but war. This child will not be immortal in flesh, that is not how her story ends, it ends in a tragedy not of her own, and her name stained and beholden. Loved, adored, spit out, screamed. You know her name, she is called Helen of Troy
(Her name is Helen, Nemesis’s beautiful Helen of Argos, or better, Helen of Sparta).
You know her story, you know how it ends.
“Nemesis, dear goddess of justice, of retribution, of revenge. Take your revenge, do not sit here and wallow with a child you will not raise. Take your good fortune and grant it to those who deserve it and unleash Tartarus on the others. Take what they owe you for you are fate just like us. You are divine and your child will pay you in blood, her own or others.” From the nest the goddess rises, she claims what she is owed and she delivers the egg to Leda.
It starts like this. The Shiba clan in Japan are running out of options, a way to keep the bloodline pure, to keep the symbol power, the Mojikara, untainted.
It starts with Shiba Akari or Alan Shiba’s greatest sin, his wife is slain in battle, no not battle but in a slaughter, not from any Gedoshu but from him. He sent his wife out to get something inconsequential, she comes home empty handed. A lost battle, a screaming match, a powerful symbol and then a dead Lady Shiba. A screaming daughter. A disgrace, a stain on her line. Her name is Shiba Lara, or Lauren as Lord Shiba’s retainers call her, and she screams and screams.
Alan shouts to the world that he never wanted a daughter, there was no man who would follow a woman to war. But there was no second child and Lauren sweet little Lauren held more power at her childish fingertips then he will ever wield in his life.
(A short life for a cruel man, there is no heroism in obligation).
So he can only scream, he can only shout to the sky about how he will do anything for a boy to continue his redundant line. He wants a legacy, he wants a son to praise his power, a son to continue in his fathers footsteps. He does not want to die with nothing.
(Nemesis laughs at his desires,17 generations of warriors that cannot lock away a monster who resides in a tributary from the Acheron the river of misery and woe, of pain and lost souls.)
It starts like this, the Moirai approach Nemesis again, or perhaps Nemesis approaches them, “Dear retribution, oh dear fate, grant this man his wish. Give the arrogant man his son, give him a warrior and let the man fall. Let the strings be cut, let the warrior fall. Give his daughter absolution and give me balance in this Clan of two.”
So she does. She takes the form of dead Lady Shiba, she walks into the home with a smile that promises sweet nothings. She passes cookies and love to sweet little Lauren and whispers words of false comfort into the ear of Lord Shiba at night. She grins as each battle becomes harder and harder to win, as Alan, head of Clan Shiba, loses more and more zords. She soaks in the agony he faces as his greed to win, to become the first Shiba to truly seal away the head demon, starts to show. As his servants rebel and fight against his orders.