Chapter Text
It was a late, storm-heavy night. Thunder roared across the sky, and lightning crackled, painting the clouds a deep, unnatural red—almost as if the heavens themselves were bleeding. The air felt heavy, suffocating. The ground trembled once, then again, though no earthquake had been reported. Something about this weather was wrong… deeply wrong.
Amid the storm, an old green hippie van sputtered and rolled to a stop at the edge of a strange little town.
“Zoinks! Like… not again, man,” Shaggy groaned, rubbing his eyes.
“Reah… rot ragain,” Scooby muttered, tail drooping.
“Relax, guys,” Fred said, his voice steady. “We’ll find a mechanic. Someone around here can fix the van.”
Velma frowned at her tablet. “Jinkies… I can’t locate this town on any map.” She double-checked her paper map, then her laptop. “It’s like this place shouldn’t exist.”
“Jeepers… that’s strange, isn’t it?” Daphne whispered, stepping out into the rain.
The gang moved forward cautiously, the wet streets reflecting neon signs and cracked pavement. Soon, they came across a diner that looked straight out of the 80s—chrome trim, neon lights buzzing faintly, and a faded checkerboard floor visible through the windows. The whole town had a frozen-in-time quality that felt off… uncanny.
A young boy, no older than eleven, spotted them. His eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped. Storybrooke was strange enough, but this—seeing them walk down the street—was like something out of a movie.
“IT’S YOU! IT’S THEM!” he shouted, sprinting toward them.
Before he could reach the gang, someone grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back.
“Henry, don’t be rude,” said a blonde woman with fair skin and sharp emerald eyes, gently steadying her son.
“But Emma, it’s Mystery Inc.—or, you know, the Scooby Gang,” Henry protested, struggling against her grip. They’re here… I know it! I saw them!
Emma glanced at the teens entering the diner and exhaled sharply through her nose. Of course, she thought dryly. I’m the daughter of Snow White… so why not add sixty cartoon teenagers to a town full of fairy tales?
She was just about to introduce herself when something crashed through the clouds above the diner. Gray, clay-like figures hit the ground in a messy pile, scattering debris and shattering a neon sign.
Emma’s eyes widened. “Putties?” she muttered, recognizing them instantly—from her favorite childhood show.
“What the heck is going on now?” she added aloud, stepping in front of the diners as the creatures regrouped, weaponsless but menacing, and charged. In one fluid motion, she shoved a table aside and planted herself firmly, bracing for the next wave.
Her fists clenched. The show made it look easy… but these are tougher than they look.
“Kid, stay behind me,” she ordered, spinning just in time to deflect a clay arm aimed at Henry.
Henry was losing his mind, eyes wide. “THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER—if, you know, we weren’t about to die!” His voice wobbled between exhilaration and sheer terror as he peeked around Emma for a better view.
At that moment, Neal burst into the diner, rolling his shoulders as if nothing could faze him. “Great… this BS is why I left the Enchanted Forest,” he quipped, flashing a half-smirk at Emma. “Mind if I join you, or should I just admire the view?”
Emma raised an eyebrow, ducking under a swinging Putty arm. “You’re lucky I don’t punch you too,” she shot back, driving a fist into a creature’s chest. Sparks flew as it crumbled into dust.
Neal grinned, swinging a chair to knock another Putty into a wall with a satisfying thud. “Guess I’ll take my chances,” he said, eyes flicking to hers.
The gray creatures lunged forward. Emma twisted sharply to block one, Neal sliding under the same arm, their movements nearly instinctive. We’ve got to move faster… Emma thought, heart hammering. Their proximity sent sparks of adrenaline through her veins—even amid the chaos.
Emma shoved a diner table aside; Neal grabbed a metal chair, swinging it to intercept a clay fist mid-swing.
“What’s a Putty?” Daphne shouted, wide-eyed.
“I have no idea… a ghost, maybe?” Velma replied, already scanning the creatures with frantic precision.
“Gang, looks like we have another mystery on our hands!” Fred yelled, charging forward, slamming a chair into a Putty’s chest with a satisfying crack.
The Putties crashed into tables and walls. Diners ducked for cover, some frozen in terror. Emma’s bare hands struck fast and precise—blinding speed, fist colliding with clay, sending it skidding across the floor. Neal spun a creature aside, letting out a sharp laugh.
“Still got it,” he teased, glancing at her sideways.
Emma smirked, ducking a low swipe. “Don’t get cocky, Neal.” Sparks flew as Neal collided with another Putty, sending it sprawling across the floor.
Henry ducked behind a counter, heart pounding—thrilled and terrified all at once. This is insane…
He watched as his father punched a Putty square in the jaw, sending bits of gray flying. Emma flung a chair at another creature; chaos erupted in the diner. Patrons screamed, scattered, or froze.
A heavy crash echoed—Neal’s body slammed into a Putty with full force.
“You always said you wanted to be a Power Ranger,” Neal teased, grinning at Emma.
“Shut up!” she snapped, blushing as a clang echoed when she smacked another Putty with a toaster.
Henry stole a quick glance at his parents, silently rooting for them. Then his eyes drifted upward. The windows framed the sky—red and black, a gaping hole tearing open reality itself.
Emma’s heart skipped. The patrons were gone. She immediately drew her gun. “Let’s see if these—Playdohs—take a bullet,” she muttered, aiming carefully.
“Henry, get out! Go to Regina or your grandparents!” she shouted, voice sharp and commanding over the chaos.
Henry didn’t hesitate. He sprinted, heart hammering, never happier to see the white manor on Muffin/Miffin Street.
“MOM!” Henry yelled frantically, voice cracking over the chaos.
Regina spun toward him, worry etched across her face.
“Mom… putties… best day ever… but also… not help!” he rambled, words tumbling out so fast it was nearly incomprehensible.
“Henry, dear… slow down,” Regina said, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. She felt his rapid heartbeat through her palm—running, dodging, the Putties… the entire ordeal still thundering through him. He’s okay. He’s okay… she thought, trying to soothe both him and herself.
Meanwhile, back with Emma and Neal, the fight pressed in around them. Every second pushed them closer to being overwhelmed. Emma squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself. Neal instinctively wrapped his arms around her protectively—but the strike never came.
She opened her eyes.
Two teen warriors stood between them and the Putties: one male clad in red, the other female in bright pink.
“IT’S MORPHIN TIME!” the red warrior’s voice boomed, sharp and commanding—cutting through the chaos.
“PTERODACTYL!” the pink warrior shouted in sync.
“TYRANNOSAURUS!” the red warrior yelled, fists already moving.
Jason glanced at Kimberly. “Kim, watch my back.”
“Gotcha covered, Jason,” she replied, grim determination in her tone.
Finally… backup, Emma thought, relief sparking amid the tension.
Throughout the chaos, the Scooby gang ducked behind an overturned table, hearts hammering as the swarming Putties advanced.
“Jenkins… this isn’t our typical case,” Velma muttered, peeking over the edge of the table, eyes scanning the street. “Something bigger—or someone—is behind this.”
“Zoinks—” Shaggy’s voice cracked, trembling as his entire body shook. “Is it just me… or is the sky on fire?” He pointed upward, jaw slack.
Scooby yelped, ears flattening, and darted behind a trash can. Daphne clung to Fred’s arm, eyes wide, fingers digging into his sleeve.
Fred squared his shoulders, trying to project calm. “Gang… this might be beyond anything we’ve seen—but we can handle it. I mean, we teamed up with Batman once—we can hold it together.” His voice wavered despite the encouragement, betraying the knot of fear tightening in his stomach.
Then, a group of Putties spotted them. Without hesitation, the gray creatures gave chase.
“Run!” Shaggy yelled, and the kids bolted down the street, their screams echoing off the buildings as the creatures thundered behind them.
They rounded a corner—straight toward Regina and Henry.
Regina raised an eyebrow, a sharp edge to her voice. “Henry… explain. What did Miss Swan do this time?”
Henry skidded to a stop, breath ragged, heart racing. “Nothing! This is just… weird—awesome—terrifying—and weird all at once!”
Regina’s lips pressed into a thin line. She flicked her hand, attempting to blast the Putties with magic—nothing. Not even a spark.
A frustrated sigh escaped her. Of course… magic’s unstable. Of course. She drew a sword from under her coat, the metal catching the flickering red light above, and marched forward, slashing through the advancing Putties with precise, clean strokes.
“Go, Mom!” Henry cheered, eyes wide.
Velma, still catching her breath, pushed her glasses up, voice shaky but urgent. “People… the sky isn’t breaking. These aren’t normal storms… these are rifts in reality. Different realities are collapsing into each other.”
“How is that even possible?” Daphne whispered, trembling, her voice barely audible over the din.
Fred stepped forward, jaw tight, determination returning. “It’s trap time, gang.”
Shaggy’s hands flew to his head. “Like—are you mad, man? What the heck are we gonna trap?”
“Reah… rwhat?” Scooby squeaked, trembling behind him.
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Emma and Neal ran through the smoky street, every step jarring against the uneven pavement. The Pink and Red Rangers moved in tandem behind them, blades and energy trailing with each swift motion. Emma’s breathing was sharp, knees aching from the relentless fight.
Neal reached out, steadying her with a firm hand. “You good?”
Emma shot him a look, teeth gritted. “Define good… We just got saved by two teenagers in spandex.”
Neal smirked, shaking his head. “Hey… dream come true for you. You always said—”
“Shut up,” she snapped, cheeks flushing red, adrenaline mixing with irritation.
Jason—the Red Ranger—called over the chaos, voice sharp and commanding: “We need to regroup! Those things aren’t slowing down!”
Kimberly nodded, energy crackling faintly around her. “If more show up, you two won’t last long.”
Emma clenched her fists, determination hardening in her chest. “Henry… I have to get to Henry.”
Across town, Regina led the other group down the opposite end of Main Street, every footstep deliberate. Henry, Velma, Daphne, Fred, Shaggy, and Scooby clustered close, their faces masks of tension.
“Okay… okay… this is officially the worst field trip ever!” Shaggy panted, glancing nervously at the crumbling buildings and red-tinged smoke curling overhead.
“Reah! Worst!” Scooby agreed, tail tucked, ears flat against his head.
Regina’s gaze swept the street, sharp and calculating. Focus… keep them safe… just breathe.
Velma’s eyes darted toward the sky, scanning the swirling red-black clouds.
“This… this is not natural,” she said, voice trembling. “Something is destabilizing reality.”
Daphne shivered, hugging herself. “And Velma saying that… is scarier than the sky itself.”
Henry kept glancing over his shoulder, panic flickering across his face.
“Mom… where are Emma and Neal? They’re still out there!”
“That is exactly why we’re moving,” Regina said firmly, jaw tight, eyes scanning the street. If anyone gets hurt out there… not on my watch. She added with a sharp glance at Henry: “And for the record, when this is over, I am banning dimensional nonsense from Storybrooke forever.”
Then, chaos collided—literally.
Emma rounded the corner—Regina rounded the other—and they nearly crashed into each other.
“Mom!” Henry yelled, relief and worry crashing together in his voice.
Emma dropped to her knees, gathering him into a fierce hug. Henry squeaked under the pressure.
“You’re okay…” she whispered, voice shaking slightly. “Thank God.”
Neal leaned on his knees, chest rising and falling rapidly, sweat streaking his face.
“Regina… those clay things—”
“Magic doesn’t work on them,” Regina snapped, voice hard, sharp. “At all.”
Jason stepped forward, stance alert, eyes flicking toward the advancing Putties.
“They’re called Putties. We deal with them often… but these ones are different.”
“Different how?” Snow called, jogging up the street, bow in hand, arrows already nocked.
Snow and David appeared behind her, weapons drawn, faces set and ready. Alright… let’s keep everyone alive. Focus.
Emma blinked, incredulous.
“Mom? Dad? What… what are you doing out here?”
“The sky split open,” Snow said, voice grim. “We came running.”
David’s gaze swept the chaotic street, landing on the Pink and Red Rangers.
“Who… who are they?”
Kim folded her arms proudly, energy brimming despite the battle.
“Power Rangers.”
Shaggy leaned toward Scooby, voice barely a whisper.
“Like… did he just say Power Rangers, man?”
“Reah! Rower Ragers!” Scooby echoed, ears twitching nervously.
Fred stepped forward, determination returning despite the smoke and chaos around them.
“Well, gang… sounds like we’ve got a mystery—”
Regina’s sharp glare cut through his words.
“Not now,” she snapped, eyes scanning the street for danger. Focus. Everyone… stay alive.