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  • Right Arm - Yellow - Hannah

    Chapter by smatster · 21 Oct 2025
  • Stacey has lunch with Hannah & gains explosive strength.
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  • The afterglow of claiming Chloe was a constant, humming warmth in my veins. Practice wasn't just practice anymore; it was a display of ownership. I’d call a routine, and Chloe’s eyes would snap to mine, her movements sharper, more precise, as if trying to please me on a level even she didn’t understand.

    But the Megazord required balance. A foundation of legs was vital, but I needed striking power. I needed an arm. I needed Hannah.

    Hannah was our flyer, our grenadier. Compact, powerful, with a kinetic energy that was all springs and explosions. Where Chloe was smooth and fluid, Hannah was sharp and sudden. I asked her to lunch, just the two of us, at a quiet cafe off campus.

    She was surprised but agreed, her usual explosive energy tempered with a flicker of curiosity. Over salads and iced tea, I guided the conversation away from routines and rallies and into deeper waters. I learned about her strict parents, her hidden love for violent comic books, her secret dream of being a stuntwoman.

    “I just… I want to hit things, you know?” she confessed, stabbing a cherry tomato with her fork. “Not like, in a bad way. But with purpose. With impact.”

    “I know exactly what you mean,” I said, leaning forward, my voice low and conspiratorial. “It’s about control. Channeling all that power. Making it yours.”

    Her eyes widened, and she nodded slowly, a connection sparking between us that had nothing to do with cheerleading. It was a recognition of a similar hunger. I paid the bill, my hand resting on hers for a moment too long. She didn’t pull away. A blush crept up her neck. The claiming had begun long before the monster arrived.

    It arrived that evening, a grotesque thing made of cracked mirrors and distorted glass, its minions shrieking about “body positivity through critical self-reflection!” It shot beams that tried to warp our self-image. We fought, our movements slightly off, dodging not just attacks but our own funhouse mirror reflections.

    We finally shattered its core with a well-aimed, combined kick from Chloe and Zoe, and it began its inevitable growth into a towering, glitching prism of insecurity.

    The belt snapped into place. Time stopped.

    My gaze locked onto Hannah. Yellow. She floated toward me, her expression not dazed like the others, but focused, intense, as if she were mentally preparing for a particularly difficult stunt. As my right arm—Hannah’s arm—moved to claim its place, Nagai’s voice echoed again. "The limb of impact. Make it yours."

    Hannah (Yellow) and Maya (Aqua) drifted into position for my arms. But this time, I focused my will, my intention, my newfound intimacy with Hannah solely on her. My right arm slid into her, the sensation different from the leg. It was tighter, more direct. I felt the incredible, coiled power of her shoulder and bicep, the explosive potential of her entire body now funneling into my limb. Her two arms merged, becoming a single, tremendously powerful extension of my will. As I looked at her she morphed until I had a giant human arm.

    Time lurched back into motion.

    The mirror monster screeched, focusing a beam that warped the air around its head.

    "Yellow Arm, strike!" I thought, the command fierce and clear.

    The response was instantaneous and devastating. Hannah’s body didn’t just move; it unleashed. Our combined fist rocketed forward, a blur of yellow light, and connected with the monster’s face. The impact wasn’t just physical; it was a concussive blast of pure, focused energy that shattered the mirrored surface into a million pieces. I felt the glorious, satisfying jolt of the hit travel up the arm, a feedback loop of power and control.

    "Again!" I commanded.

    Hannah’s body obeyed without hesitation, delivering a series of blindingly fast, powerful punches that pummeled the monster, each blow a testament to the lunch we shared, to the hunger she’d confessed. I wasn’t just using her arm; I was conducting her very essence, her desire to hit things with purpose. And it was magnificent.

    We weakened it, its form flickering and unstable.

    "FINISHER!"

    The now-familiar leap, the perfect alignment, and the silent, smothering embrace of Brianna’s victory. The monster dissolved into a shower of harmless, glittering shards.

    The flash. The separation.

    I was back on the cracked asphalt. Hannah was shaking out her right hand, a confused but exhilarated look on her face.

    "Whoa," she breathed, flexing her fingers. "My arm feels like it just went twelve rounds with a heavyweight champ. I had the craziest dream... I was so strong. You were there, and you were... you were telling me to hit it. And it felt amazing."

    She looked at her fist, then at me, her expression shifting from confusion to a kind of fierce reverence. The energetic, explosive Hannah was now looking at me like I was the source of her power.

    I reached out and took her still-tingling hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. "That's because you are amazing, Hannah. And you're mine."

    She didn't argue. She just squeezed my hand back, her blush returning full force. Two down. My foundation was set. My striking arm was claimed. The Megazord was becoming more than a weapon; it was becoming a monument to my ownership.

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anon_81c01d9cb198 ∙ 08 Dec 2025