Prologue — The Day Hope Trembled

“Alright, let’s try this one more time.”

For as long as humanity could remember, the Super Sentai reigned as living legends.
Children adored them, teenagers idolized them, adults cheered for them, and the elderly prayed for them.
They weren’t just heroes—they were the foundation of humanity’s survival.

Their power came from the highest deity, Astra, who bestowed the divine energy known as the Astral Core. Through that blessing, four great Sentai rose:

Crimson Sentinel — Red Sentai
Azure Sentinel — Blue Sentai
Onyx Sentinel — Silver Sentai
Black Panther — Black Sentai

Together, they defeated countless monsters. Day after day, victory after victory. Their glory soared until they became humanity’s brightest symbol of hope.

And in the peak of this Golden Age, the world began searching for the next generation.

From thousands of candidates, four shined brightest:

Arakawa Minato — Red
Aisaka Tsubame — Blue
Kurobane Shuu — Silver
Miyuki Kanzaki — Yellow

They were chosen. Celebrated. Destined.

But one name was missing.

Saiga Noburu.

A young man with ash-gray hair and golden eyes.
He failed to receive Astra’s blessing—no Astral Core, no transformation, no future among the Sentai.

While others stood proudly on stage, his destiny remained painfully ordinary.

The plaza erupted with cheers. Flags waved in every direction, music blasted through the air, and the atmosphere felt electric.

The host raised his microphone dramatically.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Today we witness the birth of a new era!
Welcome… the next generation of Super Sentai!”

Crowds screamed, applauded, and stomped their feet.

“First—our blazing heart of courage!
ARAKAWA MINATO, future Crimson Sentinel!”

Minato stepped onto the stage. Confident. Proud. Radiant.

Fans erupted.

“MINATO! MINATO!”
“He’s so cool!”

“Next! The brilliant tactician of the Azure Sentinel—AISAKA TSUBAME!”

Tsubame bowed gracefully, greeted by camera flashes and excited screams.

“Third! The fang of justice—KUROBANE SHUU, future Silver Sentinel!”

Shuu barely waved, cool as always, but the crowd roared anyway.

“And finally… the glowing ember of hope—MIYUKI KANZAKI, future Yellow Sentinel!”

Confetti fell as Miyuki waved enthusiastically.

Children chanted:

“SENTAI! SENTAI! SENTAI!”

But just beyond the crowd, leaning on his bicycle, Noburu watched silently.

A soft, bittersweet smile tugged at his lips.

They made it… all of them.

He turned away and pedaled back to work.

During the celebration, the sky suddenly darkened.

A swirling black portal ripped itself into existence.

A gigantic figure descended—muscular, scaled like a dragon, armored in enchanted plates, wielding a blade thicker than a man’s torso.

General Dragon Lord.

A nightmare from the Sentai’s ancient history.

He raised his sword, voice booming across the plaza:

“Where are those bratty Sentai you celebrate!? Come out and face me!”

Then he charged—hurling plasma blasts into the crowds.

Screams erupted. Buildings shook.

The new Sentai rushed to the scene, transforming mid-air, weapons igniting.

The battle began.

Inside a quiet supermarket, Noburu pushed his mop gently across the tiles.

A breaking-news alert popped on the staff television:

“General Dragon Lord has appeared in Tokyo—”

Noburu blinked, unimpressed.

“Huh… that’s new.”

He continued mopping.

“Well, the Sentai will handle it. Like always.”

A coworker passing by scoffed:

“Figures a guy like you didn’t get chosen.”

Noburu shrugged.

“Yep. Life is fair like that.”

Or not. Mostly not…

He sighed, yawned, and kept working.

Heroes fought monsters.
He fought dirty floors.

On the battlefield, the Sentai launched everything they had:

“Azure Wave!”
“Silver Fang Strike!”
“Yellow Beam Scatter!”

Dragon Lord didn’t even flinch.

“Pathetic. Astra’s new toys are weaker than the old ones.”

He crushed their formation with overwhelming force.

After his shift, Noburu cycled home.

A can of cheap beer and instant meals rattled in his basket.

“Please let this day end…”

Then—

A massive shockwave tore through the sky.

Noburu skidded to a stop.

Sentai members flew through the air like broken mannequins.

His heart dropped.

What happened to them!?

He dove behind a trash can, trembling.

Dragon Lord turned slowly, sensing him.

“Human… You dare wander into my battlefield?”

“W-wait! I’m just passing by! I didn’t know you were fighting here!” Noburu stammered.

Dragon Lord raised his sword—
but a red blur appeared.

The sword struck a shattered helmet.

Crimson Sentinel.

Arakawa Minato.

Noburu’s breath vanished.

“M-Minato!?”

His childhood friend.
His training partner.
The boy who once dreamed of becoming a hero with him.

Minato’s visor was cracked. Blood streamed down his chin.

Dragon Lord snarled.

“Out of my way!”

A sphere of deadly energy gathered in his palm.

“PLASMA BUSTER!”

The beam ripped through Minato’s chest.

“AAAAARGH!”

Minato collapsed.

Unmoving.

Unbreathing.

Noburu’s mind cracked.

“DAMN YOU! HOW DARE YOU!”

Without thinking, he grabbed Minato’s weapon.
Lightning surged violently into his arm.

But Noburu didn’t care.

I don’t care if it kills me—
I’ll kill the monster who killed him…!

He roared and slashed with everything he had.

A burst of lightning exploded—
Dragon Lord stumbled backward, shocked.

With a hateful growl, the monster retreated into the black portal.

Noburu fell beside Minato, shaking.

“Minato! Stay with me! Please—don’t die!”

Minato’s trembling hand revealed a glowing crystal.

His Astral Core.

“Noburu… take this… with it… you can…”

“No! Keep it! You’ll survive! Please—!”

Minato smiled weakly.

“You were… always late… Saiga-kun…”

His hand fell.

His eyes dimmed.

Sirens wailed in the distance.

Noburu pulled his friend close, tears spilling uncontrollably.

If only… If only I had power…
Minato wouldn’t have died like this…

Under the darkened sky of Tokyo—
a powerless young man cried over the only friend who believed in him.

A tragedy he never wanted.
A beginning he never asked for.

And the world would never be the same again.