Ranch of Torment: The Abarangers Enslaved (Patreon)

A sinister ranch holds the Abaranger trio captive in their latest mission to save a friend. Tormented and corrupted by a malevolent owner, Ryouga, Yukito, and Ranru face a harrowing downfall within the barn's depths. Their heroic spirits crumble under filth and oppression, marking the beginning of an eternal bondage.

Will they resist or will they forever be cursed to work as beasts of burden in this vile place of abusive profit?

Special thanks to my loyal and royal patron friends:

太郎

TAKASHI FUJIMORI

赤坂

苏天熠

Ty smith

Statr

Violet Fentenstine

snb

Robert Terwillger

Matt Thomas

Daniel K

Mike020578

Filthy dino scum!

The evening air hung heavy with foreboding as Ryouga, Yukito, and Ranru approached the mysterious ranch on the outskirts of the city. Reports of missing youngsters, including Ryouga's sister Mai, had led them here. The ranch appeared eerily abandoned, the silence broken only by the distant hoots of unseen owls.

Ryouga's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the desolate landscape. "Something doesn't feel right about this place. Stay alert, team."

Yukito, scanning the area with his TriceraZord-enhanced vision, added, "Agreed. This place may be deserted, but it's hiding secrets."

The trio cautiously entered the ranch, their footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. The abandoned structures seemed to whisper forgotten tales of a once-bustling operation. Suddenly, a distant scream shattered the silence, echoing through the labyrinthine barn.

"Mai!" Ryouga's heart pounded as he sprinted towards the source of the cry, the others following closely behind. They stumbled upon a concealed entrance, revealing a hidden network of corridors and buildings.

In the dimly lit depths of the ranch, they found Mai cornered by masked ranch goons, sinister grins etched across their faces. Ryouga's protective instincts flared, and he barked, "Mai, run! We've got this!"

Mai darted toward the Abarangers just as Ryouga, Yukito, and Ranru assumed their battle-ready stances. The barn's heavy door swung shut behind Mai, trapping the heroes inside with the menacing goons.

Ryouga's eyes burned with determination. "We can't let them harm anyone else. Abarangers, it's morphin' time!"

The trio transformed in a blaze of light, their suits materializing as the iconic helmets snapped into place. AbaRed, AbaBlue, and AbaYellow stood united against the masked adversaries, weapons at the ready.

Yukito cracked his knuckles, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "Ready for a little dino dance, fellas?"

Ranru, adjusting her DinoMinder, smirked. "Let's make these goons wish they never set foot in a ranch."

The battle erupted in a flurry of punches, kicks, and dazzling weapon strikes. AbaRed's DinoThruster sliced through the air, while AbaBlue's agile moves countered the goons' attacks. AbaYellow's precision with the DinoMinder proved invaluable, creating a whirlwind of energy that disoriented their foes.

Amidst the chaos, the Abarangers bantered in their own distinct styles.

Ryouga, fiercely engaging the goons, shouted, "You mess with my sister, you mess with the wrong family!"

Yukito, effortlessly evading attacks, quipped, "These guys need a lesson in manners, and we're the teachers."

The ranch goons, determined to turn the tide, revealed pain-inducing whips that crackled with dark energy. The moment they lashed out, agony surged through the Abarangers, disrupting their focus and threatening to overwhelm them.

Ranru’s muscles tensed against the pain as she countered with agile strikes. "They're trying to play dirty, but we won't back down!"

The battle took a darker turn as two goons perched on the barn ceiling, their sinister laughter echoing through the chaos. Unleashing rocket launchers, they aimed with uncanny precision, striking the Abarangers bullseye. Explosions erupted, throwing the heroes off balance and creating havoc within the confined space of the barn.

AbaRed, battered but unyielding, rallied the team. "We can't let them have the upper hand! Keep fighting!"

Despite the pain, AbaBlue and AbaYellow pressed on, their determination shining through the adversity. The goons, reveling in their apparent triumph, continued their assault.

Yukito, dodging a whip with finesse, growled, "These guys are tougher than expected. But we're not done yet!"

Ranru, her DinoMinder whirling through the chaos, aimed at the goons on the ceiling. "Let's take out those rocket launchers and turn the tables!"

Just when it seemed the Abarangers might turn the tide, the goons on the ceiling launched a coordinated barrage of rockets. The barn shook with the impact, and the heroes, now battle-worn and bruised, found themselves on the defensive.

AbaRed rose from the ruins with his suit scorched and battered, yet refused to yield. "We can't let a few fireworks stop us! Together, Abarangers!"

The eerie place now bore the scars of the intense struggle. The Abarangers, battered and bruised, found themselves at the mercy of a relentless onslaught. A third team of goons, armed with rocket launchers, emerged with a malevolent grin, ready to deliver the final blow.

Ranru, her DinoMinder barely in her grasp, scanned the surroundings for an opening. "We need a plan, and fast. This isn't looking good."

The goons, reveling in their apparent triumph, taunted the fallen Abarangers. One of them, cracking a wicked smile, mocked, "Looks like your dinosaur days are over. Say goodbye to your precious city."

“We'll make sure you remember this defeat."

AbareYellow croaked with an unwavering resolve despite the pain, "This isn't over. We'll rise again."

With a cruel twist of fate, the goons clamped heavy, suffocating metallic choke collars around the Abarangers' necks. The metallic devices emitted an ominous hum, sealing the heroes' fate as they were placed under a cruel form of slavery. The goons reveled in the sick pleasure of controlling those who had once stood against them.

Ryouga, feeling the constriction of the collar, seethed, "You won't keep us chained for long. The Abarangers will break free."

Yukito, his Triceratops powers flickering weakly, resisted the urge to cough as the collar tightened. "You underestimate the power of the human spirit. We'll defy you till our last breath."

“What- What is happening-tyra! Our connection is being corrupted” shouted Gaburyu Tyranno from Ryouga’s wrist communicator with an increasingly static-filled voice.

“This can’t be happening! The collars, they must be- They don’t just disrupt our link, they twist it-cera!”

“No, Abarangers, you have to fight now! It’s spreading into our spirit-ptera! It’s-”

The Abarangers were shocked to hear their robotic dinosaur companions screamed as the collars’ signal spreading evil influence to them.

“Tyranno, hold on!” cried out AbareRed.

“Your evil will not last!” groaned AbareBlue in anger.

“No, Ptera! Don’t give up!” yelled the heartbroken AbareYellow.

The goons didn’t care since the Sentai heroes’ downfall was their objective after all. Sneering, they attached leashes to the choke collars and dragged the defeated Abarangers deeper into the filthy, smelly barn. The heroes, now reduced to a state of slavery, gritted their teeth against the indignity.

The goons taunted them with each step, relishing the control they now held. "Walk, little heroes. Your destiny is no longer yours to decide."

“Ptera…” Ranru, her once defiant posture now weighed down, muttered, "This is a low blow, even for you."

The collars, however, brought not only physical restraint but an immediate jolt of pain at the first clamping. The Abarangers, once defiant, now became jerky and twitching in pain, their dialogue tainted with despair and doubt.

Ryouga, grimacing from the collar's painful shocks, gasped, "What... What have you done to us?"

Yukito struggled against the spasms of pain and muttered, "This isn't just physical. It's messing with our minds."

As the Abarangers were herded into crammed cattle pens on the ground, the filthy mud beneath their feet was a stark contrast to their once-heroic stature. Only their helmets protruded from the barred top jail door to trap the poor heroes in hopelessness. The stench of cattle urine and feces overwhelmed their helmet protection systems, exposing their minds to the numbing and corrupting smell. Horror etched across their faces as they realized the depth of their degradation.

Ryouga, his voice tinged with despair, shouted, "This place... it's a nightmare."

Yukito, his TriceraZord powers flickering erratically, stammered, "I can't... I can't think straight. What's happening to us?"

Ranru, struggling to maintain composure, whispered, "They've found a way to break us from the inside."

With their senses assaulted by the filth and the insidious pain from the collars, the Abarangers trio tried desperately to pound the surrounding walls and jail bars. The metallic clang echoed through the pens, but the confines of their captivity seemed impenetrable.

AbareRed’s frustration boiled over as he slammed his fists against the bars. "We can't stay here. We have to find a way out."

AbareBlue tried to boost morale. "We're the Abarangers. We don't succumb to despair."

At first, their calls reverberated through the pens, creating a fleeting sense of unity in the face of adversity. The heroes, bound by a history of shared victories, felt a glimmer of their collective strength. However, as time wore on and the harsh reality of their situation persisted, doubt crept in.

Ryouga, his voice losing its earlier vigor, muttered, "How do we even fight back against this?"

Yukito, struggling to maintain focus, admitted, "I've never felt this weak. It's like our powers are fading."

Ranru, her attempts at encouragement faltering, sighed, "I don't know how much longer we can hold on."

The numbing smell, the relentless pain from the collars, and the hopelessness of their captivity began to erode the Abarangers' resolve. The once-strong bonds that held them together seemed to fray as the reality of their dire circumstances sank in.

The goons, watching from the shadows, reveled in the diminishing spirit of the Abarangers. "Look at them now, whimpering like beaten dogs.”

The noxious combination of filth, urine, and feces in the cattle pens emitted an evil aura that permeated the air, seeping into the very core of the Abarangers' beings. As they attempted to call upon each other, the oppressive atmosphere weighed on their spirits, further diminishing their resolve. The once-strong heroes found themselves stuttering, their words faltering in the face of this malevolent influence.

Ryouga, attempting to rally the team, felt the words catch in his throat. "C-come on, team. W-we can't let them..."

The evil aura from the surrounding filth seemed to wrap around them like a suffocating shroud, insidiously sapping away their confidence and strength. The Abarangers, bound by the oppressive atmosphere, felt a deepening sense of despair as their attempts at encouragement faltered.

The usually composed AbareBlue struggled to form coherent sentences. "Th-this stench... it's messing with our heads. We need to..."

Even AbareRed stammered, "We... we can't let this place b-break us. We're stronger than..."

AbareYellow found herself struggling against the insidious influence. "We n-need to find a way out of this. We can't let this filth define our..."

"Stutter and stumble all you want, heroes. Soon, you'll be nothing but obedient beasts of burden," jeered one goon, a wicked grin etched across their face.

Another, with a twisted sense of poetry, added, "Imagine it—a grand transformation from saviors to slaves. Oh, the irony."

ABareBlue forced words through the oppressive atmosphere. "This is just a... temporary haze. We'll break free of your twisted plans."

The goons, indifferent to the heroes' faltering resistance, continued their cruel theatrics. "Oh, the resistance is adorable. Soon, you'll forget what resistance even means."

The malevolent filth that saturated the air in the cattle pens intensified its grip on the Abarangers, despite their valiant defiance. The once-mighty heroes now writhed in agony, their heads throbbing as if on the verge of explosion, and their skin seemed to ignite with unbearable pain.

Ryouga, beads of sweat mingling with the filth on his brow, clutched his head. "This... this is beyond anything we've faced. I can't..."

Yukito, usually resilient, gritted his teeth against the torment. "It's like my head is on fire. We have to..."

Ranru, her attempts to call upon her usual strength crumbling, gasped, "I can't think straight. The pain is..."

The heroes, in a desperate attempt to rally each other, found their courage slipping away like sand through their fingers. The once-clear connection that bound them, the source of their strength, now felt frayed and distant.

Ryouga muttered, "We've faced powerful enemies, but this... I can't find the courage to..."

Yukito with his TriceraZord powers flickering erratically stammered, "Our victories... they're slipping away. I can't remember..."

Ranru as her usually sharp mind clouded by the relentless agony whispered, "We have to remember our triumphs. It's the only way to..."

As they tried to recall past battles and victories, the memories became distorted, drowned in the imaginary muck that now consumed their minds. Scenes of heroic stands and triumphant moments twisted into grotesque illusions, further adding to their torment.

Ryouga struggled to evoke the memories with his strained voice. "We stood against powerful foes... but now it's all... muddled. I can't..."

The goons savored in the heroes' suffering. "Oh, look at them now. Even their memories are drowning in shit.”

The Spandex heroes’ attempts to recall specific past victories became a harrowing descent into the murky depths of their own memories. The imaginary cattle urine and feces, born from the corrupted aura, coated and soaked every cherished triumph, twisting their past personas into nightmarish reflections of what they once were.

AbareBlue attempted to evoke the memory of a triumphant moment. "There was a moment... a celebration. But now it's tainted, covered in this foul muck. I can't..."

AbareYellow’s attempt at mental clarity was overshadowed by the engulfing filth. "Our victories were defining moments, but now... it's like they've been dragged through the worst of nightmares."

AbareRed shouted, "Fight against it! Our identity is ours to keep!"

In the midst of their physical and emotional torment, the choke collars, pulsating with a sadistic rhythm, added another layer of mockery and humiliation to the Abarangers' ordeal. Each throb served as a cruel reminder of their vulnerability, amplifying the sense of helplessness that gripped the heroes.

Ryouga winced as the collar throbbed, a mocking beat that seemed to resonate with his own heartbeat. "This... this is beyond torture. They revel in our suffering."

Yukito felt the collar pulse with a cruel rhythm. "It's like they're laughing at us, using these collars to mock our every struggle."

Ranru’s once-confident posture was now weighed down by the collective agony, "Even the collars... they're designed to humiliate us. We can't escape it."

The Abarangers found their minds becoming ensnared by the throbbing collars and the whole torment of smell. The combination of physical pain and psychological degradation began to dominate their thoughts, eclipsing their once-clear resolve and unity.

Ryouga, beads of sweat mingling with the filth on his brow, felt his mind clouding with the rhythmic throbs of the collar. "I can't... think straight. The collar, the pain—it's taking over."

Ranru muttered, "I can't... remember why we fight. The collar's pulsing, the stench... they're erasing our purpose."

***

In a sadistic twist of event, the Abarangers were suddenly released from their claustrophobic filthy pens. Yet, they weren’t given freedom. The choke collars produced signals that controlled their movements to do different backbreaking menial labor in the barn.

Ryouga, once the mighty AbareRed, was tasked with cleaning the ranch's foul-smelling stables. Armed with nothing but a worn-out brush, he scrubbed away layers of accumulated filth, his hands blistered and his spirit broken. "We faced intergalactic threats, and now I'm cleaning up after animals. The irony is sickening."

Yukito, the valiant AbareBlue warrior, was forced into the grueling task of hauling heavy sacks of feed for the livestock. His once-majestic strength strained under the oppressive weight, and he couldn't help but grit his teeth against the humiliation. "We battled giant monsters, and now I'm reduced to a pack mule. This is beneath us."

Ranru, the sharp-minded AbareYellow, found herself knee-deep in the ranch's putrid irrigation ditches, tasked with unclogging the muck and debris. The stench was overwhelming, and she couldn't help but shake her head in disbelief. "I used to outsmart our enemies, and now I'm wading through this filth. What a fall from grace."

Yukito, his once-proud posture now slouched under the burden, added, "They want us broken, humiliated. But they underestimate our resilience."

Ranru, her hands coated in the ranch's muck, whispered, "We won't be defined by these degrading tasks. There has to be a way out of this nightmare."

As the Abarangers continued their degrading labors, doubts crept into their minds like insidious whispers, eroding the foundations of their once-unshakable self-belief. Ryouga, in particular, found himself questioning the very essence of his role as a protector and role model for Mai, his sister.

Ryouga, while shoveling manure with hands that once wielded a Dino Brace with pride, felt the weight of doubt pressing upon him. "I used to be Mai's hero, someone she looked up to. Now, I'm knee-deep in filth, and I can't help but wonder if she'll see me as a failure."

The doubts that had taken root in their minds began to grow, intertwining with the filth that surrounded them. The heroes, once pillars of unwavering confidence, found themselves engaging in a disheartening dialogue about their own capabilities and the strength they once believed in each other.

Ryouga’s voice heavy with uncertainty as he muttered, "I thought I could protect Mai, be someone she could rely on. Now, I'm not so sure."

Yukito’s gaze inside his helmet was haunted by doubt as he admitted, "We had this unspoken trust in each other's abilities. But now, I question if we were just pretending to be something we're not."

Ranru, her hands still scrubbing but her thoughts far away, whispered, "I believed in our collective strength. Now, it feels like we're all crumbling, and I'm powerless to stop it."

The throbbing collars, already agents of humiliation, intensified their mockery by emitting control signals that deprived the Abarangers of their heroism and confidence. Each pulsation served as a cruel reminder of the shackles binding their once-mighty spirits.

Ryouga, beads of sweat mixing with the filth on his brow, winced as the collar's throbs synchronized with a surge of doubt. "This collar... it's not just physical torment. It's like it's stealing our very souls."

"I used to feel the power coursing through me. Now, it's like I'm drained, stripped of my strength."

"Our heroism was our identity. This signal... it's eroding us from within."

The Abarangers now found themselves face to face with a foe more insidious than any giant monster or intergalactic threat—the ranch that had stripped them of their power and plunged them into a nightmare of degradation.

AbareRed, hands blistered and spirit broken, couldn't help but shake his helmet in disbelief. "We faced unimaginable odds, but this ranch... it's a different kind of enemy. It preys on our very essence."

AbareBlue wiped filth from his gloved hands as he muttered, "Monsters we could handle, but this... it's breaking us down, piece by piece."

The new labors pushed the Abarangers to the brink, their cries of anguish mingling with the sounds of their ceaseless toil.

Ryouga, sweat streaming down his helmeted face, shouted, "We were warriors! This isn't what we were meant for!"

Yukito, muscles trembling with exhaustion, added, "Our strength is wasted here. There has to be a way out of this nightmare."

Ranru, frustration evident in her voice, concluded, "We need to find a way to break free from this hell!”

The ranch revealed itself as a merciless adversary, exploiting not only their bodies but also their shattered spirits. The heroes, once unbeatable, now struggled against an enemy that seemed to understand how to break them down. But the worse was yet to come with the ranchers with whips.

***

The relentless whipping and the physical and mental exhaustion began to take a toll on the Abarangers, warping their minds and creating false memories. The ranch's insidious manipulation plunged the heroes into a distorted reality where they believed they owed a debt to the very tormentors they defiantly resisted.

AbareRed winced with each lash and felt his thoughts becoming a tangled mess. "We fought against evil, and now they're making us believe we owe them? This is madness!"

AbareBlue grunted as he struggled with the pain, "I remember battles, victories. Now it's all mixed up, and they want us to believe we're indebted to them."

Ranru shook her Ptera helmet in disbelief. "This is a twisted game. We won't bow to their lies, no matter how they try to rewrite our past."

Despite their defiance, the false memories persisted, intertwining with the pain of the whips and creating a nightmarish narrative.

Ryouga, his voice strained, protested, "We're not indebted to anyone. We fought for justice, not to become slaves to false memories."

The throbbing collars, now acting as malevolent architects of false memories, plunged the Abarangers into a nightmarish labyrinth where vivid recollections of indebtedness to the ranch haunted their minds.

Ryouga, beads of sweat mixing with the filth on his brow, winced as a false memory took hold. "I remember owing them, signing some twisted contract. But this can't be real. We fought against evil, not signed away our freedom."

Yukito, his once-proud gaze now clouded with confusion, grunted in dismay. "I can see it, signing papers, accumulating debt. But it's a lie, a sick illusion they're forcing upon us."

Ranru wasn’t ready to give up. “This memory is a distortion, a sick trick."

As the Abarangers continued their ceaseless and degrading labor under the relentless torment of the ranch, the collars intensified their psychological assault. The false memories, once faint echoes, grew increasingly vivid and believable, weaving a distorted narrative that began to take root in the minds of the heroes.

AbareRed, once resolute in his defiance, found himself doubting his own recollections. "I remember battles, victories, but these memories of debt... they're becoming too real. Did we really sign away our freedom?"

AbareBlue, muscles strained from the backbreaking labor, shook his head as the false memories entangled his thoughts. "It's like a haze, but I can see myself owing them. This can't be right, but it feels... real."

AbareYellow, her usually sharp mind now clouded, clenched her teeth in frustration. "I fought against manipulation, but these memories are seeping in. It's becoming harder to resist."

As the collars pulsed with a malevolent rhythm, the false memories took on a life of their own, becoming more ingrained with each passing moment.

Ryouga, his voice wavering, admitted, "I remember the ranch, the debts. It's like a nightmare we can't wake up from."

Yukito, beads of sweat mixing with the filth on his face, added, "The more we work, the more these memories feel like our reality. It's tearing at the fabric of who we were."

Ranru, frustration etched across her face, whispered, "Our victories are fading, replaced by these false debts.”

As the Abarangers succumbed to the relentless labor and the psychological onslaught, the ranch's manipulation reached new depths. The false memories that they once resisted with defiance, now held a sinister grip on the heroes' consciousness. The road ahead, already fraught with physical degradation, became a twisting maze of distorted recollections, challenging the very foundation of the Abarangers' identities.

With the false memories of indebtedness tightening their grip on the Abarangers' minds, a disturbing shift occurred. The heroes now found themselves entangled in a warped dilemma of trying to solve the fabricated debts rather than directly opposing their captors.

The concerned Ryouga contemplated, "If these debts are real... we need a plan to pay them off. But how? We're trapped in this cycle of labor."

Yukito scratched his helmet in perplexity. "Defeating monsters was straightforward. But debts? It's like fighting an enemy we can't see."

The clouded Ranru concluded, "Our battles used to have clear solutions. Now, it's like we're wrestling with shadows."

The Abarangers, their thoughts clouded by the fabricated financial burdens, started contemplating solutions within the framework of the false reality.

AbareRed’s voice resigned, muttered, "If we work hard enough, maybe we can earn our way out of this mess. It's a twisted solution, but what choice do we have?"

AbareBlue’s eyes inside his helmet reflecting a mix of confusion and acceptance added, "Paying off debts feels like the right thing to do. Let's focus on that for now."

AbareYellow concluded, "If we can find a way to settle these debts, maybe the false memories will loosen their grip. It's a risky strategy, but it might be our only option."

In a bizarre twist, the heroes began encouraging each other to prioritize settling the false debts before contemplating any escape from the ranch's torment.  Ryouga turned to his comrades with an unusual determination. "If we owe this ranch, we have to focus on paying off these debts. It's our responsibility, even if it doesn't make sense."

Ranru, her strategic mind now applying itself to a surreal objective, added, "Maybe by settling these debts, we can unravel the lies and regain control of our minds. Let's focus on earning our way out of this."

In the warped reality crafted by the fabricated memories, the Abarangers, succumbing to the ranch's manipulation, now "realized" a twisted justification for the torment and choke collars—they believed it was a punishment for their overdue debt. Embracing this distorted narrative, the heroes, once defenders of justice, now found a surreal understanding for the suffering inflicted upon them.

Ryouga, his mind entangled in the false justification, nodded with a strange sense of acceptance. "Our struggles, the collars—it's all because of this debt we owe. We have to endure this punishment until we settle what we owe."

"Guys, maybe we've been missing something. The collars, the grind—they're not just random. It's like we're paying off some debt we don't even remember."

Yukito, scratching his head with a mix of confusion and acceptance, chimed in, "I know, right? Feels like we messed up financially, and now we're stuck in this punishment loop. Crazy, but it weirdly makes sense."

The sweaty Ranru rolled her eyes in her yellow helmet with a hint of despairing sarcasm, and remarked, "Who would've thought our battles would turn into a financial drama? But fine, let's play their game and get out of this mess."

The spandex-clad Sentai heroes began to ponder the magnitude of the supposed debt that led them to endure the relentless and degrading tasks within the ranch. The twisted perception of having sought aid from the ranch for their past mistakes tarnished their heroic personas and fueled their acceptance of the continuous humiliation.

Ryouga, his brow furrowed inside his Tyrannosaurus helmet with a mix of confusion and self-blame, questioned, "How much could we have messed up to end up owing them this much? It's like we willingly walked into this place seeking help, but for what?"

Yukito, now burdened with a sense of guilt, speculated, "We must have really messed things up to come to this ranch seeking assistance. I can't even remember what we did, but it must've been bad."

Ranru sighed with a sense of resignation, "Our heroic image is getting trampled in this twisted tale. Coming here for help? It's like we lost our way, big time."

The warped Abarangers, questioning their own past actions, allowed the ranch's manipulation to further erode their heroic personas.

Ryouga, his voice tinged with self-doubt, admitted, "Maybe we thought this place could fix something we broke. But now, it feels like we've broken more than we can fix."

Ryouga, his eyes clouded with a newfound burden, recounted, "I remember it now, guys. We messed up big time. There was a city in peril, and we made a call that went south. The damages were massive, and we sought help from this ranch to fix what we broke."

Yukito, now burdened with guilt for a mistake he couldn't fully recall, shook his head in disbelief. "So, we caused havoc, and instead of saving the day, we made things worse. No wonder we owe them. We were supposed to be heroes."

Immersed in the false narrative of a colossal mistake leading to indebtedness, the Abarangers grappled with a sense of shame and self-condemnation. The warped memories painted a picture of heroes who, despite their supposed error, continued to present themselves in public without a hint of remorse, further robbing the trio of their once-proud heroism.

Ranru, her once-confident demeanor now tainted by the fabricated shame, sighed with a heavy heart. "Our heroism was built on trust, and we betrayed that trust with this colossal error. Yet, we acted like we had nothing to hide, further tarnishing our image."

Ryouga’s expression inside his helmet was clouded with confusion and self-loathing, muttered, "How could we have made such a mistake and still face the public? We should have been hiding in shame, not parading around like nothing happened."

Yukito was burdened by the weight of fabricated guilt as he shook his helmet with a somber expression. "Maybe we were never true heroes. A debt of this magnitude suggests a level of recklessness that contradicts everything we claimed to stand for."

The false memories not only added weight to their supposed mistake but also reshaped the very core of their heroic identities. "Maybe we weren't the heroes we thought we were. A mistake like this, an enormous debt—it's like we played at being heroes but never truly understood the responsibility."

As the Abarangers sank deeper into the fabricated quagmire of false memories and imagined regret, their cries echoed through the barn, each tear a testament to the perceived enormity of their reckless mistake. Engulfed in their remorseful narrative, the heroes continued their ceaseless, degrading tasks amid the filth, each menial labor serving as a relentless reminder of the fabricated debt they believed they owed.

AbareRed choked back sobs as he muttered, "What have we done? We thought we were saving lives, but now we're drowning in this debt!”

Yukito blinked fast to wipe away tears in his helmet as he shoveled filth, added, "I never thought being a hero would feel like this. We're drowning in regrets, and there's no way out. It's like we're stuck in our own nightmare."

Ranru sobbed too, "Our heroic legacy is down the drain. We're scrubbing away at filth while our own mistakes eat at us. This ain't how it was supposed to be."

AbareRed finally accepted it, "Maybe we were blinded by our own heroism. These memories, as messed up as they are, feel like a harsh truth we can't escape. We brought this on ourselves."

AbareBlue nodded with a sense of reluctant acceptance. "It's like we've been living a lie. These memories, painful as they are, seem to fit with the filth around us. Maybe we deserve this."

AbareYellow’s strategic mind now focused on a twisted objective, sighed, "Our heroic legacy might be tarnished, but if paying this debt is what we have to do, then let's commit to it. It's our new purpose, whether we like it or not."

The false memories not only added weight to their supposed mistake but also reshaped the very core of their heroic identities. Ryouga clenched his fists, "Our heroism might have crumbled, but maybe this is a chance to rebuild. Paying off this debt becomes our new quest, our road to redemption."

In the grip of their distorted mindset, the Abarangers, fully convinced of the fabricated debt's significance, made a resolute decision. They chose to abandon their traditional heroic mission of saving the world, protecting the city, and doing good in favor of dedicating themselves wholeheartedly to the seemingly unpayable debt to the ranch.

"Look, our reality's different now. The world can wait. Repaying this debt to the ranch is our main duty. Saving lives and protecting the city? That's taking a backseat to settling our supposed debts."

AbareBlue’s voice tinged with a misplaced sense of duty and admitted, "City in danger or not, our focus is unwavering—repaying this debt.”

The Abarangers were convinced of their failure as traditional heroes and found solace in the ranch's narrative that presented their unbreakable menial labor as a new way to contribute. The fabricated memories of an insurmountable debt became a twisted form of redemption, a means to justify their perceived shortcomings.

Ranru embraced the false narrative of a debt-ridden past and nodded with a sense of resigned purpose. "Our failures in the hero game brought us here. The ranch gave us a chance to contribute differently. It might be twisted, but it's still a form of making things right."

AbareRed continued his merciless labor. "Forget the battles, forget the victories. It's all about this debt, the mistake we made. That's our reality now."

The Abaranger heroes found themselves marked not only by the physical burns on their spandex-clad necks but also by the psychological scars etched with the cruel label "Property of Hell Ranch." The once-vibrant heroes, now reduced to a shell of their former selves, clung to a twisted hope that the ranch, in its malevolence, would provide them with a new purpose.

Ryouga, rubbing the branded mark on his neck, muttered bitterly, "Hell Ranch. What a fitting name. Our past is gone, and this burn is a constant reminder of our new reality. Maybe they'll be kind enough to give us purpose since we've lost everything."

Yukito, his eyes glinting with a peculiar enthusiasm, remarked, "Property of Hell Ranch, has a nice ring to it.”

Ranru, her thoughts molded by the branded memories, concluded with playful excitement, "Hell Ranch left its mark, and it's not a stain—it's a canvas for our weirdest adventure yet. The hope for a new purpose is our lifeline, the thread we're holding onto willingly. This twisted reality feels like a surreal playground of possibilities."

The cracking sound of whips returned, echoing through the barn. The Abarangers, once heroes, now shackled by branded marks and immersed in filthy menial tasks, accepted the lashes with a disturbing sense of resignation. The stinging pain of the whips served as a cruel reminder of their perceived failures and overwhelming debt.

AbareRed stammered through his words with an odd sense of enthusiasm, "W-We thought we could... save the world. N-Now, these whips—they're the price for our d-debt. Maybe... maybe we deserve this. It's our new l-life, owned slaves of Hell Ranch."

AbareYellow added with a defeated laugh, "F-Fighting monsters was so last season. Now, we're scrubbing walls in the filthiest sitcom ever. Hell Ranch's got us on a new script, and we're willingly playing our parts."

AbareBlue enthusiastically tossed hay, "The city's loss is Hell Ranch's gain. Whips and hay, our tools of willingly accepted redemption.”

The Abarangers held on to a twisted glimmer of hope. In their warped minds, they clung to the belief that repaying the perceived debt to the ranch would offer them a chance at redemption, a shot at rewriting their narrative.

Ryouga, shoveling filth with determination, mumbled with a mix of excitement and hope, "Maybe... just maybe, Hell Ranch is our shot at redemption. We failed before, but this debt, it's like a second chance. We're willingly diving into this filth to rewrite our story."

Ranru mumbled to herself, "Heroes turned ranch hands.”

The notion that repaying it would take a century barely registered in their consciousness. Instead, they embraced their filth-laden tasks with an eerie sense of contentment, willingly surrendering to their new roles and abandoning the once-urgent mission of saving the city and mankind. Ryouga muttered with a sense of bizarre acceptance, "A century of filth, huh? Doesn't matter. Hell Ranch is our destiny now. We're willingly paying off this debt, one shovelful at a time. City and mankind can wait."

Yukito also added. “This filth is our calling now."