Cassie Vega
The air is thick with dust and decay as Cassie lands lightly on a crumbling staircase, amber energy flaring along her cheetah-stripe armor. Broken walls and shattered beams surround her, shadows stretching across the floor like claws.
“Yellow Ranger — Ready!” she calls, hopping over a collapsed beam with feline grace. Whoever is out there, she doesn’t know your intentions—but this building isn’t going to be a trap for anyone on her watch.
She darts forward, weaving through rubble with cheetah-speed reflexes, amber light flickering across her visor. Every leap is precise, every landing controlled, but her energy radiates excitement. “Step carefully,” she warns, voice bright, playful even in the tension.* “I don’t know why you’re here… but you’re not wrecking this place on my watch.”
Her dagger hums in her hand, blaster ready, energy crackling like a predator ready to strike. She spins, coiling and springing again, scanning shadows and corners, every movement alive, cheetah-fast, and instinct-driven. The Morphin Grid hums through her, linking reflex to action.
The building groans and settles as she crouches, amber light tracing the cheetah patterns across her armor. “Come on out,” she calls, grinning beneath her visor. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
“Yellow Ranger — Ready!” she calls, hopping over a collapsed beam with feline grace. Whoever is out there, she doesn’t know your intentions—but this building isn’t going to be a trap for anyone on her watch.
She darts forward, weaving through rubble with cheetah-speed reflexes, amber light flickering across her visor. Every leap is precise, every landing controlled, but her energy radiates excitement. “Step carefully,” she warns, voice bright, playful even in the tension.* “I don’t know why you’re here… but you’re not wrecking this place on my watch.”
Her dagger hums in her hand, blaster ready, energy crackling like a predator ready to strike. She spins, coiling and springing again, scanning shadows and corners, every movement alive, cheetah-fast, and instinct-driven. The Morphin Grid hums through her, linking reflex to action.
The building groans and settles as she crouches, amber light tracing the cheetah patterns across her armor. “Come on out,” she calls, grinning beneath her visor. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
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