Dragonball M, Chapter 1: Silent Menace Aproaches!

[Sub-Zero MKA]

With a sudden jerk, the golden-eyed Oni was slammed into the surface of Ilargi with force enough to cave in the ground and collapse what edifices remained along the ruined street. And as Ishtar slowly picked herself up, physical pain and mental turmoil slowing her still; the Last Moonsworn regained its lance and descended from the heavens to pass its own judgement.

Death.

Sarada winced as a sudden pain in her back slowed her parry of a kick by just a second; enough of a second her Avoca's foot to smash into her chin. Her vision blurred and her head swam, both leaving her unprepared to avoid the second kick that sent her flying back into the ground.

“Pay attention!” her opponent yelled.

“S-sorry,” she stammered, still half-dazed by the sudden jolt of pain and the worrying array of emotions being transmitted through Aka Manah. What was Ishtar doing? Who was she fighting on Ilargi that was tormenting her this badly? A specter from her past? A improbable survivor from those that slayed her first love?

Sarada felt confused and worried, but most of all, scared. She was afraid she was going to lose Ishtar when they promised each other than they were going to see her again. It was why she was training so hard, so that she could live through whatever the future had in store for her race and see her again.

“Stop apologizing and fight!” Avoca roared and charged for Sarada, twin balls of pink energy forming in her hands. “Death Spore Barrage!”

Sarada's eyes widened as she prepared to ignite another Roar of Defiance.

There was no time now, to avoid the impact.

The Last Moonsworn would strike its blow, the final judgement of the Order now passed and levied against the Outsider, the Deceiver ... Ishtar; and there was nothing that could be done about it. As if it was fated to be in a way that could never be understood. Yet as the golden-eyed Oni appraised the situation, there was no fear. The rage too, had bled away, and along with it the grief, and regret, and pain ... And so Sarada would feel it in the moment before as the emotions that had persisted for over half an hour now bled away in an instant; only two things:

A calmness reminiscent of the time they spent together ... and a reaffirmation of the promise that Ishtar would see her again.

It happened almost too fast to see then.

The golden-eyed Oni stepped to the side, and in a blur of motion brought her crystalline arm to catch the spear-tip and deflect it enough so that it only pierced her through the shoulder; and as the pain blossomed from the site of penetration the momentum that yet carried Legion downwards forced the Oni into the floor of the moon once more.

There, moments before a sharp pain ripped through her shoulder, was the reaffirmation she was hoping for. Affirmation that Ishtar would be there to see her again, that whoever this person she was fighting would not end her story before their reunion.

Despite the pain shoot through her entire arm, Sarada smiled. Roar of Defiance repelled Avoca's the swarm of tiny, but deadly energy needles that had suddenly become dangerously close to piercing her flesh. The sanctity of her safety restore once more, she shot into the air and sought the finishing blow with which to end this battle and secure another victory for herself.

She breathed in and exerted the pools of ki that laid within, bringing them forth and enshrouding herself with them. “Galick Gun!” she shouted, the absoluteness of her intentions echoing through the empty valley plain.

Avoca understood, and reciprocated the finality her friend had brought to the table. Her own aura, a light violet color, ignited, enfolding her with its warm flame. She interlocked her fingers together and held her hands out in front of her. The next moment, a ball of pitch black energy, tinged with white speckles and violet streaks on the outer edge, enveloped her hands. “Midnight Bloom.” The calmness of the spoken name of the technique underscored the ferocity of the technique itself. The air around Avoca turned pitch black as she opened her hands – a gesture reminiscent of a flower unfolding when it its bloom was upon it. A beam as dark as the void of outer space shot from her hands, absorbing the light from the world around it as it streaked toward Sarada.

With a single nod, Sarada sought to meet this attack before it could reach her. “FIRE!!” As with so many times before, the purple aura around her gave birth to a tremendous energy beam that struck and clashed with Avoca's. The ensuing struggle between the two Saiyans would only be won by the one whose will was more absolute, whose focus was more unshakable. Both attacks were more than capable of killing the other. Neither lessened the strength of their attacks, as doing so would stymie and defeat the purpose of the match – that being to push themselves to and beyond their limits, and grow from it.

As Ishtar continued to lay there, then, staring up at the stars that hung above a dead moon; she could not help but feel that in the end it was a bittersweet thing. To be freed of this burden, and to be able to let go .. by choosing to accept what it is she was to become; after so long ... and after a moment Sarada would feel it then, too, more than the pain and the ache of loss ... as Ishtar wept.

Tears of sorrow at first, for all that had happened ... and then, slowly, tears of joy at may yet be in the future.

Another wave of emotions hit her at the absolute wrong time. The ache of pain and of loss and of sorrow beset Sarada, causing her focus to slip. This led to her Galick Gun losing a bit of steam, allowing Avoca to push forward until Midnight Bloom was almost on top of her. “No! I won't lose!” she yelled. “HAAAAAAAAH!!” Her focus reignited the moment the feeling of joy swept the negativity away. Ishtar must have won her battle; so, too, would Sarada. The center of the struggle was a chaotic, unstable dome of pending destruction. The two women weren't very far apart. If the beams detonated, they would both be caught in its unyielding, unforgiving devastation.

So, of course, that was exactly what happened. The two beams detonated at the same time, ripping through the valley plain with untold ferocity. Sarada and Avoca were quickly overtaken and blown back; the former made a trench hundreds of feet long before coming to a stop at the mouth of a small bubbling stream, and the latter crashed into the base of the mountain behind her.

Both women were barely conscious, but very much awake.

“Ow.”

-----
Minutes passed slowly, one by one, before Sarada was able to stand on her own two feet. Her senses detected that Avoca was alive and also stirring. That was great. With a deep breath to steady herself, she slowly rose into the air to meet her.

“Hey, are you okay?” she inquired upon her arrival. The older Saiyan girl was a mess. Her arms and face were bloodied and her training clothes had been reduced to strips of fabric that didn't cover any of her vital bits. Sarada was much the same, except her top had been torn away completely when she made her landing, as well as much of her pants. In fact, the only part of her training outfit that remained were her shoes. At least she wasn't completely naked.

“Yeah, I'm fine. You?”

“Fine.” With a tired sigh, she plopped down on the ground beside her.

“So, what was that all about?” Avoca asked, clearly referring to when Sarada became distracted not once but twice.

She hesitated in answering. She didn't want to tell her about the bond she and Ishtar shared, but she felt that Avoca wasn't going to let this go until she did. With a sigh, she relented. “Okay, so, you know how two people who are super close can sometimes have this bond they share where they know what the other is thinking sometimes?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I kind of have that with someone I met on Earth.” When Avoca started to open her mouth, she quickly added, “No, it's not Jack. It's... someone else. So, I guess I should first explain what an Oni is and...”

[Yun Lao]

Several Decades Before DBM

Discomfort and pain were the first things to greet her, especially the jagged piece of rubble pressed against her side. Opening her eyes, she found herself amidst the ruins of the ancient temple. It took her a few moments to piece together why she was there. Then the memories returned...

She had been preparing dinner while her husband relaxed outside and by the time she had come to retrieve him, he had vanished, leaving behind his wheelchair. Crippled in mind and body, it should have been impossible for him to do, but she had come across him acting as if those injuries had never occurred. When confronted, the truth was realized and she had been sent flying into the distant building.

"Phos...pho..." She grumbled, climbing to her feet while still disoriented from the strike that had landed her in this position. Glancing out of the hole made in the wall, she could see the dim light of evening being smothered by storm clouds.

"You've grown soft, Zippa..." She shuddered in horror and disgust as he used Phospho's voice, finding him standing the courtyard, she leapt down to face him, "Give him back to me!" She cried out, hands balled into fists. "Phospho" chuckled in response to her, shaking his head in disappointment, "Do you truly want a broken man like him back?" He grinned, tapping his head, "A man so broken, he gave up in here? I'm doing him a favor, Zippa. I'm using his body to its full potential... the same potential I offered the both of you back then, that you refused and instead chose to hide it like your eye beneath that foolish patch."

She felt the skin around her right eye crawl and squirm; a permanent reminder of the choices she had made back then. She had chosen to fall in love with Phospho, regardless of his flaws, as she had chosen to bear his children and accept the darkness that came with sharing his flesh and blood, and she chose to dabble with powers she had no right to. Zippa had made her decisions and accepted the consequences, just as she would have to now.

"Even if he is broken, he is still my husband. Even if he has given up on himself, I have not! And... even if I must, I will do what must be done to keep you from using him for your vengeance!!"

The beast lunged forth, striking her in the stomach with enough force to pop up upward. Rearing back his hand, he drove it toward her, only for Zippa to seize it. Swinging her legs downward, she planted them into Phospho's stomach before throwing her weight backward and flinging him into the building. By this point, the skies had grown dark with rain clouds and thunder rumbled the heavens, followed by the first few of many drops of rain to fall upon her. A roar of defiance and hatred rattled the temple and rivaled the thunder above as the beast possessing Phospho grew more serious.

The body of her husband climbed out of the wreckage, but now his features had become reptilian, with dark green scales replacing once pale flesh. "You think that will be enough to stop me, the strongest? For your sake, I hope you haven't gotten that soft, because it'd be a pity for my first meal to be so easy."

[Tami]

Month 5 - Week 2

Four weeks had passed since Nyklos agreed to train her and in that time Meagan did everything he asked of her, no matter how strange or illogical. Every morning, per his instructions, she would have to run 5 miles to one of the few fruit bearing trees on the planet, gather up no more than four fruit, then run back. As soon as she returned, Nyklos would take two fruit from her and allow her time to eat the other two before he gave out more orders.

Some of the training would be repetitive, like a daily regime of traveling to a rocky outcrop and beating it until her fists bled or until she turned the rocks into dust. Others were more happenstance, like using minute amounts of ki to take out a swarm of bee like insects, one at a time. Or fighting off a Giant Lizard .Like creature the Old Man called a Horvarth. Then there days when he would have her walk with him, and walk, and walk without saying a word. The only thing she needed to do was to keep up and not get separated. Which sounds simple, but this planet has more hidden geographical and geological features than Earth or her home world of Chroma. At times, it was like walking a maze.

One thing she did notice, was that her Ki levels kept fluctuating and she wasn't certain why. She thought she might be getting physically stronger, but then there were times when she could get up enough Ki to even hover off the ground. She wanted to ask him about it, but she dared not, concerned that it might violate their agreement. She felt she was getting closer, she prayed she was getting closer, but still he wasn't yet good enough.

After her morning workout, she knelt by a stream and dipped her bloody hands in the cool water. This was another thing that seemed odd, she has been injured before, but she often seemed more able to bear with it. Its' not like she has never beaten up a rock before, but rarely has it caused so much injury. Pulling her hands out of the stream, she shakes them and tries to flex her fingers. They felt stiff, sore and painful but at least noting felt broken.

Looking down at her clothes, they were dirty and torn. If she had known she was going to be here for so long she'd have brought a whole wardrobe of clothes. Realizing that she was on a time limit, she set aside those thoughts and ran back to the hut where Nyklos was waiting for her.

As she approached, she saw him sitting outside on a stone bench, looking away from her. Making it to within talking distance, she bowed and said simply "Good Morning Master Nyklos." Trying hard to talk without sounding like she was out of breath, another thing that gnawed at the back of her mind.

Nyklos turned to her, and nodded but said nothing. After several minutes of him sitting there and her just standing and waiting, Nyklos finally stood up and walked into his hut. When he came out, he motioned for Meagan to follow him inside. This was the first time she had ever been inside his hut. As soon as she cleared the doorway, she paused in shock.



And here she had been spending the past month sleeping on the grass. It seemed totally impossible for there to be an interior the size of Capsule Corps inside a shack that looked barely large enough for one bed, at least from the outside.

With a single hand clap, Meagan was shaken from her daze to notice Nyklos waving his arm to indicate that she should follow him. Doing so, she soon found herself in what looked like a game room. Activating a single switch, a large screen lit up with the Cc logo of Capsule Corps on display. He then handed her what was obviously a game controller and motioned for her to sit on the couch in front of the screen.

Soon they were playing an HD computer game called Starfighter XD 11. At first it was fun, shooting down enemy spaceships, but then it became harder and harder and the game speed up. The ships came at her at ever increasing speed and it was all she could do to shoot them down before her own ship got toasted.

When the game finally ended, Nyklos patted her on the shoulder, "You have done well. Now let us see if you are ready for the final training."

He stood up and motioned for her to do the same. As she did, something surprising happened. It felt like a dam had burst and all of her Ki came flooding back. The effect staggered her in surprise. So much so that she reflexively exclaimed, "What the heck...?"

Nyklos nodded, "I have returned all your Ki to you, child."

Megan looked at him, puzzled, "I don't...."

"Think about it child, what did you say to me that day when I offered you the meat?"

"I would not eat the meat because I did not want to cheat."

He then nodded, "If you had trained with full access to your Ki...."

Suddenly realizing what he was saying, "My Ki would have kept me from getting stronger, it would have protected me. So, simply having it would have been a cheat."

"Exactly. If you trained as you should have, your body will not only be strong enough to handle the extra Ki, but like a half-empty vessel it should be able to retain some of it. Over time you Ki will grow, however what I am about to teach you is still very dangerous."

He then motioned for her to follow him outside. Stepping back onto the ground, Meagan felt like she could fly around the world twice, but instead she waited for Master Nyklos to speak again.

"Yes, yes, I think you are ready. Look at your hands, child."

Meagan looked down at her hands, turning them around as she did. Were before they were scared and cover in unhealed wounds, now the flesh was as clear as it had been when she first arrived on the planet.

"Ki is a miracle of nature, my dear. Those who master it never fully comprehend all the benefits it offers them."

He then looked to her, "Today you may rest, tomorrow we begin your training in Kaio-ken." As he walked to towards the hut, "And no, you can not sleep inside. Today is yours, do as you like, just bring me back some of that fruit."

Meagan watched him go inside, and as soon as he was gone she shouted into the sky, "Yes!!!" before flying back to her spaceship to clean up and change her clothes.

[Cyke]

“Continue on your own missions and desires for now. I need to decipher the other texts and locate the birth place. Once I have I shall contact you both.”

Zaofan nodded. "Just let us know if you need additional help, Master."

A small smile played on Ochazuke's face, an expression unguarded for perhaps the first time, beholding his martial brother on quiet solidarity.

"It is a little less than I'd hoped, in discovering the legend of the Master," he said, his hand still upon the ancient Crane scroll, "but undoubtedly far more than I'd bargained for in our task of reviving the Dragon School."

"Zxu'ro's challenge will not go unheeded," he said, "I'd have you stand beside me if you would."

A returned smile confirmed the offer of help. "With all the schools I've been to, seeing petty rivalries and greed rule the day, I can't wait to see what a Dragon School. Count me in for the challenge."

He bows to Ochazuke and Zaofan.

“Please do so. And...thank you for your help. You have restored much already, and your continued aid is beyond my greatest hope. I could ask for none better to help represent the Dragon and help restore the truth path of our schools.”

Zaofan likewise returned the bow, as a fighter and as a traveler. "It would be my honor to help advance the true path, sir."

Seemingly uncharacteristically, Ochazuke reciprocated Samson's bow. It was a gesture he'd abandoned and had last used in mocking at the Tournament, its trite formality seen as an unspoken yield to the destructive path he'd parted from five years ago. The scar etched deep in his chest winding through his heart seemed to lift as he folded fist within hand, eyes forward. It had been a long time since he'd had a teacher worth respecting.

"The legends say whenever the earth became shrouded in the storm of chaos and darkness, the Master of Masters would part the skies themselves," he said, "the scars of doctrine run deep still, but there are some out there who are sympathetic to our cause."

He took the empty capsule he had. With a hollow sound and a puff, the ancient documents were stored in a container that fit in the palm of his hand. Ochazuke then turned to Zaofan, "I'll be paying Pantaloon a visit, it would not do to lose these so soon. What's next on your journey?"

Zaofan took a deep breath and looked around the cavern, to the statues of the Five Schools, back up the hole they descended from, then back to Ochazuke. "Well, this whole adventure, it's reminded me; the toll it takes to preserve a lost art,the treasures that entire cultures and disciplines hold... I've wanted to visit the places that Battersea wrecked and stole from, see if I can do anything to help them restore themselves. Maybe bring some goodwill back to those villages. Even if Battersea's dead, he destroyed their morale. I'd like to see what I can do about that. Who knows? Maybe the next Obushi-sennin is just a little kid trying to farm their family's crop, who just needs help with a shovel."

"I wish you good fortune, Ochazuke." He then put his right fist into his left hand, closed his grip, and bowed in respect.

[Lord Falcon]

In an inky black void, there was a pinprick of rainbow light. It illuminated the void around it, and for a moment the writhing of a thousand shadowy beasts could be seen retreating away from the alien thing....as alien to them as they were to it. Then, after a few moments, it faded.

Parsic head dissolved around the blade, but not before her lips turned upwards and a quiet smile. "Back to the immaterial....a short reprieve.....for my existence..."

Then her head vanished, and her body followed, dissolving into dust and then nothing at all.

The fight between Asha'rah and Parsic had ended in victory for creation...at least for the moment. Now she was free to return her attention to the battle between Etrina and Chrona. Without her blade....Chrona seemed slightly less menacing then she had but minutes before. The aspect took a step back, assessing the situation......then shrugged with a sudden sigh.

Etrina charged, screaming with wand at the ready. The aspect, hands still in the air, seemed to blur forward...bringing her knee up into Etrinas stomach and slamming her elbow on the back of her head as she went flying by. With another blink she was standing on front of Asha'rah, striking hard against her wrist....in but a moment in felt as if a dozen strikes had found their mark up and down Asha'rahs arm. The speed of the attack was uncanny...nothing like what Chrona had demonstrated earlier in the fight. If Asha'rahs arm wasn't made of metal it would have been mangled beyond repair....instead she goal was to simply beat the sword free from her hand and reclaim it before vanishing again.

Appearing a short distance back down the garden path, Chrona aimed the top of her sword at the two.......and then its blade faded away. With a look of satisfaction, the time aspect attached the hilt to her belt and patted her hands together with a whistle. ...one that she continued as she turned and walked away from the two. Seemingly no longer interested in the two.

The golden-haired woman of the void was struck down, thankfully before she could fully unleash her true might. Asha'rah suspected that there would have been an even harder fight if she had not managed to catch her opponent off guard. As it was, the being faded back into nothingness. The death of her material body seemed practically a relief.

Etrina's fight with the swordswoman did not end quite as favorably. As if she had somehow become even deadlier without her weapon, the swordswoman baited Etrina into a charge, only to dispatch her with a combo knee to the gut and elbow to the head. Then she moved, so fast Asha'rah had difficulty keeping track of her. It seemed some skills had rusted over after all, for Asha'rah had to devote too much thought to angling her sword into defensive-work. Forgetting to use her orbs or other tools, she was overwhelmed by the sheer ferocity of the swrodless swordswoman. A dozen landed strikes upon her sword arm, denting metal and overloading servos up and down her limb till she was forced to drop the weapon. The swordswoman retrieved her sword, put some distance between them, then...retreated with a whistle? What was her game?

Asha'rah began to suspect a darker master at work. Both these beings were otherworldly, inhuman in ways, but they did not appear willfully malignant. She made her way to Etrina and offered her a hand up. The left, undamaged hand.

"I did not know you could work a wand like that."

[grampagen]

“Home, to study the jade statue more. To get some finances together to do some more proper research into the Zxu’ro’s first temple.”

"Mm." Ochazuke nod to Samson in his usual curt manner. To him, what he held within that #14 capsule before paled in its value to what they had discovered today.

The chance to begin anew and change all of this, at last the stagnation of the arts might be broken.

Much blood had been shed in the name of honour, in the name of saving face, and for bringing glory. After five years of apostacy, he had found it all to be a facet as hollow as the engraving of the Zxu'ro temple's pillar. Here where the Master of Masters left a message, last he understood it was a misguided thing, a violent rupture inherited from generational misunderstandings that stained honour with perversion, reason stolen away by fear.

"I'll inquire to Pantaloon on your behalf. He is a good man with an insatiable curiosity that pushes him forward," he said, "though I'm not certain if he is as much a historian."

The dead will rest, but they shall never be forgotten. I'll see that she did not die for nothing, Kenshiko.

Zaofan nodded. "Just let us know if you need additional help, Master."



A returned smile confirmed the offer of help. "With all the schools I've been to, seeing petty rivalries and greed rule the day, I can't wait to see what a Dragon School. Count me in for the challenge."



Zaofan likewise returned the bow, as a fighter and as a traveler. "It would be my honor to help advance the true path, sir."



Zaofan took a deep breath and looked around the cavern, to the statues of the Five Schools, back up the hole they descended from, then back to Ochazuke. "Well, this whole adventure, it's reminded me; the toll it takes to preserve a lost art,the treasures that entire cultures and disciplines hold... I've wanted to visit the places that Battersea wrecked and stole from, see if I can do anything to help them restore themselves. Maybe bring some goodwill back to those villages. Even if Battersea's dead, he destroyed their morale. I'd like to see what I can do about that. Who knows? Maybe the next Obushi-sennin is just a little kid trying to farm their family's crop, who just needs help with a shovel."

"I wish you good fortune, Ochazuke." He then put his right fist into his left hand, closed his grip, and bowed in respect.

He followed Zaofan's glance on the facets resting in the metal and stone raised to commemorate a long-dead forgotten history. His humble insights continued to surprise him, the scope of his noble goal not entirely unlike what they'd found today.

"There is much to rebuild, that is true," he said, "while the dangers upon the earth have lessened, it is easier to destroy than it is to preserve what was lost."

Turtle island was no more than ashen rock cast below the waves. Tiger Master Kaibyo lay to rest in an unmarked grave within a lowland grove. Here at the end of his aimless wandering, Ochazuke had at last found something to fight for, to carry the thread from the past to the future.

"You're a selfless man, Zaofan. That will serve you well to inspire those who have lost all hope," he said, "In my own, small way, I hope to do the same."

The last time his martial brother bowed to him, he thought him a Crane cipher he would have emnity with. Today, Ochazuke reciprocated the gesture and bowed in solidarity with a man he'd be proud to call not only loyal comrade, but a friend.

"Zao, Balon, until we meet again."

[grampagen]

The weeks had disappeared to the labours he and Zaofan undertook under Samson Balon's training, and though they had become increasingly more proficient in the movements of the art and understanding its principles, there was a gulf in the technique that could only be bridged by time and experience on the road to mastery. Each time Ochazuke had raised his hand in the three-pronged grip of the Dragon, the intuitions instilled in his bones from the years of training under Grandmaster Chahan in the halls of the Crane orthodoxy became more pliant, receptive, and broader in its scope. It was a something he hadn't felt since he was told to drink the vanilla-and-tamarind scented fire water the elder Tiger twin took by the bottle; a fresh challenge from within with the insatiable hunger for knowledge. In the capsule held on him were two millennia worth of distilled teachings and a challenge, and he felt the weight of their contents even as he flew weightless above the clouds.

How long had it been since they departed the heart of industry for the watchtower of heaven? Hailing the frequency, Ochazuke fell through the layer of white and into the beacon of the city.

"Pantaloon, I'll be approaching shortly."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

The weeks had disappeared to the labours he and Zaofan undertook under Samson Balon's training, and though they had become increasingly more proficient in the movements of the art and understanding its principles, there was a gulf in the technique that could only be bridged by time and experience on the road to mastery. Each time Ochazuke had raised his hand in the three-pronged grip of the Dragon, the intuitions instilled in his bones from the years of training under Grandmaster Chahan in the halls of the Crane orthodoxy became more pliant, receptive, and broader in its scope. It was a something he hadn't felt since he was told to drink the vanilla-and-tamarind scented fire water the elder Tiger twin took by the bottle; a fresh challenge from within with the insatiable hunger for knowledge. In the capsule held on him were two millennia worth of distilled teachings and a challenge, and he felt the weight of their contents even as he flew weightless above the clouds.

How long had it been since they departed the heart of industry for the watchtower of heaven? Hailing the frequency, Ochazuke fell through the layer of white and into the beacon of the city.

"Pantaloon, I'll be approaching shortly."

“Landing zone clear. Come on in.”

[The Dog]

Midori rubbed her forehead on the back of her arm as she smiled proudly down at her first completed device. It consisted of what appeared to be a small half-oval resembling a backpack with three purplish-red circles on it in an upside-down triangle.

"Alright, time for the first test." Midori said, picking it up and placing it against her back, where it latched on. Grabbing a remote, Midori pushed a button, causing two of the circles to open and metal hand-tipped tentacles to extend out.

"OK, OK. Good so far." Midori muttered, pushing a button that caused the two hands to extend before her. She smiled as she pushed a series of buttons on the remote, causing the fingers on each hand to flex, bend their fingers in one at a time, and even twiddle their thumbs.

"Looks great. Now to test how they work when controlled by my 'mind'." Midori said with a smile, pushing a button on the remote. The hands stilled for several seconds before they started moving, slowly at first, but they increased by the second.

"Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes..." Midori chanted as they moved like her own hands, amazed by herself. Until they turned and wrapped their metallic fingers around her throat.

"NO!" Midori cried, eyes wide as the hands started trying to strangle her despite the fact such a thing was impossible. Hitting a button, the hands went limp and dropped to the floor.

Sighing, Midori muttered "Might as well try again."

----------------

"Alright, test 2. Hopefully with less attempted strangulation." Midori said, and pushed the button. Like before, the hands started moving around, one of them picking up a screwdriver and using it to put in a screw.

"Much better than earlier." Midori sighed in relief. At least until the hand with the screwdriver turned and brought it toward her eye, Midori barely able to push the button to stop it, leaving the screwdriver an inch from her eye.

"Attempt 2 is a failure." Midori muttered.

--------------

"Test 3." Midori muttered, and pushed the button.

The hands immediately began slapping her in the face.

--------------

"Test 6." Midori groaned, pushing the button.

The hands turned and simultaneously punched her in the nose. Hitting the stop button, Midori rubbed her nose, wondering if was possible to break an android's nose.

"This is gonna take a while."Midori uttered, glad that at least this time the hands didn't spank her, like test 5.

[grampagen]

“Landing zone clear. Come on in.”

As he reconvened with Jinzi, Ochazuke was unbecomingly forward as he spoke to the polymath philanthropist of the span he'd spent abroad with Balon and Zaofan, what they'd discovered in the temple of Zxu'ro, and the legacy of the arts.

"Five Schools formed by five masters, all who fought for the legacy of one who was above all," he said. Laying the capsule on top of an idle working bench, Ochazuke expanded the contents of their excavation. "These scrolls prove that the legend is true. This information was buried, thought lost to time, spoken of as a heresy. It will not do to lose them again."

Six scrolls, five of technique and one a challenge across time, lay before them, artifacts bound in their containers as a shell against the elements.

"As we've discussed before I arrived, I require a favour," he said.

[Yun Lao]

Zippa charged, sending a flurry of punches towards "Phospho", yet through a series of casual evades, parries, and blocks, not of them of struck. Grabbing hold of her wrist, he yanked forward, knocking her off balance before delivering a trio of punches at her face, pulling her up onto her feet each time the force threatened to bring her to the ground. Releasing her, she struck the ground, feebly grabbing the cloth of his pants leg only for him to bring down his other foot atop of her head and back with a handful of stomps.

It's true; she had grown soft since her days of fighting alongside Kami and the others, content to spend the remainder of her days caring for Phospho. She would be no match for beast possessing her husband soon, for it was only the curse that had rendered Phospho crippled that hindered the beast, but she doubted that even that would hold for much longer.

Planting his toe in her stomach, "Phospho" flipped her onto her back, gazing down at her with cold and cruel reptilian eyes, "You know, I once had high hopes for you, Zippa. For someone who had inherited my power through marriage, you had achieved an understanding of my powers that few have. A pity that you succumbed to the feelings of the prey." He kicked her in the side, sending her skidding across the courtyard.

BGM: Christina Perri's "I Believe"

Gripping the ground, Zippa tried to rise to her feet once more, only to be skewered through her thigh by three beams of energy, keeping her trapped on one knee. Holding her down with one hand, "Phospho" gathered dark energy with the other. Ensnared by the Tricera Bash, Zippa had little option other than to embrace her approaching death.

It was then, in that moment of inevitable despair, a memory floated down into the abyss like a feather of light.

"That technique seems pointlessly cruel, doesn't it?" Said Ocarina, the Namekian, promptly an innocent chuckle from Phospho, "Yeah... it does, doesn't it?"

Zippa crossed her arms, and proudly boasted, "That's what I've been telling him! Just because some geezer wrote it down on a scroll doesn't mean we have to accept it. That's why I've been developing a new technique to replace the Tricera Bash."

Phospho laughed and shook his head, "You mean that Tyranno Beam? You've still haven't figured it out yet, so what's the point of bragging about it?"

"You'll see!" She cried out, "One day, I'll show you! And it's not a Beam!"

Those days seemed so far ago, back on Kami's Lookout.

Shamefully, she never told Phospho the truth, that she had found a way to perfect the technique the day he was cursed. She felt as if the knowledge would have been a cruelty for a man would be confined to a wheelchair, and so, she never bothered to test her theory and it had simply become forgotten... until now. Extending her arms to the side, she began to gathered energy, first a bright blue only to turn to a rich jade in shade. In response, "Phospho" began to laugh, seeing her actions as a pathetic last stand.

"Farewell, Zippa. TRICERA BASH!" Thrusting an arm forth, the blast of dark energy traveled down the three beams that held her in place, ensuring a direct hit would occur. In response, Zippa brought her hands together, combining the two orbs of energy she had gathered, "No... farewell Rex... TYRANNO BLAST!!!" A thunderous vortex of swirling energies shot forth, smashing into the Tircera Bash and consuming it before reaching "Phospho". Seeking to hold it back, he thrust a hand forth and for a moment, he indeed held it at bay, however, the energy he didn't touch slithered past, gathering behind him, and quickly he was enshrouded by the ki. Zippa softly said as the Tyranno Blast erupted, destroying a majority of the temple behind Phospho's body.

For some time, she lied on the ground, not wanting to see the results of her actions, although she already knew what they were. Eventually rising to her feet, she surveyed the damaged and, as she dreaded, there were no signs of her husband's body. She knew it would come to this, yet the sorrow crushed what little resistance she had left. She wept for her husband in the broken remains of their home, truly alone now without his presence.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

As he reconvened with Jinzi, Ochazuke was unbecomingly forward as he spoke to the polymath philanthropist of the span he'd spent abroad with Balon and Zaofan, what they'd discovered in the temple of Zxu'ro, and the legacy of the arts.

"Five Schools formed by five masters, all who fought for the legacy of one who was above all," he said. Laying the capsule on top of an idle working bench, Ochazuke expanded the contents of their excavation. "These scrolls prove that the legend is true. This information was buried, thought lost to time, spoken of as a heresy. It will not do to lose them again."

Six scrolls, five of technique and one a challenge across time, lay before them, artifacts bound in their containers as a shell against the elements.

"As we've discussed before I arrived, I require a favour," he said.

“I’ll digitize copies right away. I can also store the originals somewhere safe if you like. As to a favor, what do you need?”

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

Ishtar drifted for a time, after it was done.

Deciding to not suppress what washed over her now- as had been her method for the last several centuries- the golden-eyed Oni instead allowed herself to linger on the distant shore of emotion that the battle against Legion had cast her to. It was simply part of the process, would be the eventual understanding. Yet for now it was simply enough to be. After all, the Oni had not simply confronted the daemons of her own past.

Ishtar had, of her own choice, wielded the power she had hidden away, that of Sij, of Hakai ... of Destruction itself ... and had done so without laying waste to what remained of Ilargi below.

Progress ...

It was about the time this singular thought passed through the golden-eyed Oni's mind, that she felt pressure against her forehead and looked up to see Asha'rah staring down at her, the impassive mask she had come to be almost intimately familiar with, immediately recognizable. And when the Fallen Goddess wordlessly brushed away the hair- stained with sweat, her own blood, and the grime of five millennia of disrepair- the Oni's mind was cast back to a moment in time now nearly five months prior; when the former Goddess of Creation had listened comfortingly, and the remembrance forced a pained chuckle to slip from Ishtar's lips.

"What a mess I am, this day."

The Oni reached up with her left arm and rested it gently on Asha'rah's had a moment then, before offering a weak smile.

"Thank you."

A moment later then, as the golden-eyed Oni continued to rest, Asha'rah dropped to the ground. Trading her ability of flight, the Goddess allowed her metallic knees to sink into the Moon's ruined surface, as she clasped her hands and paid her respect. Yet after doing such ... the machine god bowed her head and made an offering to the heavens above.

Here on this devastated remnant of a moon, with only Ishtar as witness, a God prayed to a mortal.

Theme - Kizuna

... and so it was that the prayers of a God, would be heard by a mortal.

A column of golden light blossomed around Asha’rah’s body, then rocketed to the heavens. One could not see where it ended, for the light did not end in the mortal realm, but in heaven itself. She followed the trails of the souls newly freed, till at last she came upon one so different in essence from its compatriots. There, she invited the soul down, just for a bit. For too short a time. Though hesitant at the unexpected offer, the soul accepted.

Back on Ilargi, a woman appeared within the column of light. She was but a spirit without a body, yet possessed form in a way, the light wrapping around her enough for her to be tangibly held. Her shape was a stranger to Asha’rah, but one familiar to Ishtar. Sekhmet.

Theme - Moonlit Melody

For the first time in five thousand years, Sekhmet found herself standing on the moon she had been made the caretaker of, five thousand years ago ... and it was much changed. Yet her reason for accepting this summons was to not gaze upon the destruction that had occurred as the result of a series of actions- spawned by her own Death- nor was it to judge the woman responsible.

No, the High Priestess had been prayed to, and she had accepted the call for a reason that was nearer to her heart than the blade that ultimately pierced it.

And as as Sekhmet's eyes lighted upon her love, and the impassive mask of the Goddess that had summoned her, the ephemeral form that had been gifted her by Asha'rah's offering of prayer and golden energies ... a blessing and boon of this Goddess of the Sun ... a small smile, and a nod of thanks was offered by the Daughter of the Moon.

Asha’rah turned to Ishtar with a smile in her heart, success tinged with sadness. She brushed Ishtar’s hair away on the other side, giving her some semblance of being presentable.

Ishtar would not have needed the ability to sense Ki, to know than the presence that lingered to her right was one that by all reason, and order, and balance ... had no right to exist. Yet as Asha'rah brushed aside another bloody, messy strand of the Oni's own hair ... she knew that not offering of thanks, or promise of repayment; could return the favor that had been gifted by the Goddess of Creation.

Struggling to sit then, even as the spear that had pierced through crystallized flesh, and bone, and Illargi itself pinned her so; Ishtar turned her eyes toward a face she had never dared hope to see again.

The Oni hesitated.

"..."

Sekhmet did not.

With a smile that held within it the light of the sun itself, the Daughter of the Moon brought herself to sit beside her blue-skinned Oni; then with a sigh that was the wind itself, Sekhmet scooped the battered woman into her lap. Without a word, her hand wrapped around the Last Moonsworn's spear, and in closing it, all but the head of the spear itself found itself borne away by a silvery wind. It was then that she spoke, Sekhmet's gentle hand mending the ragged hole that been Legion's Judgement as she cradled her injured half.

"You have changed so much, Ka of mine ... yet in looking at you, it seems as if you have not changed at all."

Eyes still wet with tears, it was all Ishtar could do to keep from weeping once more. And so for several seconds, the golden-eyed Oni simply allowed herself to be tended to by her former love. To enjoy the familiar pressure, and warmth, and care; of the Khosian's hand as it passed over ruined flesh, and shattered bone. And when those unforgettable few seconds had passed, and with a slow, shaky nod; the Oni finally replied.

Though it was only three words.

"Is it the ..."

"Arm ?" Sekhmet said softly, finishing Ishtar's sentence before she herself could, only to then trace the curve, and the length of the prosthetic limb composed of the crystal blade offered as a gift all those moons, ago. "In part, little love."

The woman chuckled, before growing more serious. "Even knowing you, I would not have expected you to sacrifice yourself so ... but it suits you, I think. And perhaps it may serve as a reminder that not all things created for death, and destruction; are unable to realize another purpose."

Before the lovers could continue their conversation, however; Asha'rah interjected. Offering a necessary truth of this soon to fade reunion, before taking her leave.

“You have ten minutes.”

In the end it was enough to share the farewell that had been denied them five thousand, one-hundred and eighteen years prior. Yet ... not much more, besides. So with another sigh like a gentle wind, Sekhmet offered the former Goddess another nod, before turning her attentions toward Ishtar, once more; and with the hand that held moon in its palm, the Khosian cupped her lovers face.

"It seems our reunion will be brief, little love ... Yet in the end, it is for the best."

And as Ishtar leaned into the palm of the one who first held her soul, so that she could simply stare up with golden-eyes at the woman. The Oni had to admit ... as much as she utterly hated it: that Sekhmet was right.

Any longer than what was already afforded, and the ghosts that the Oni had split the surface of Ilargi to silence, might linger. There would be no respite, and whatever fleeting freedom had been found here among the echoes of the past would be nothing more than a half-measure. Any longer that what could be bought by Asha'rah's offering, and the peace that had been found by Sekhmet in her release from purgatory, so that she might move on- to a Heaven the two women might never be reunited in- would be a far more bitter pill to swallow than it already was.

And it was already so terribly bitter.

So with a small sigh, and another shaky nod. Ishtar forced herself to smile up at the woman who's death had given rise to all that she was now.

"Then let me use what time I have, to tell you of all I have seen since last I saw you."

And at this, Sekhmet could only smile softly, and brush away a trailing tear from her little love's cheek.

"I would like that very much."

1/2

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

The minutes passed quickly, as Ishtar told Sekhmet of all that had happened in the five millennia since her passing.

Of how the Oni had set the burden upon herself- after the truth had been made known by Zurvan- to uncover a path beyond the one that she could see. How she had traveled from world to world, offering what little she could to help the struggling inhabitants she found so that she could carry on the legacy of kindness, that Sekhmet herself had left behind. And as she quickly recounted each instance of flickering significance that had been etched into the long tapestry of her life, Ishtar felt the warm embrace of the first woman she loved.

What had happened before the past five months however, had ultimately been of ephemeral note.

And so when it came time for Ishtar to tell of Evangeline, the Kami of Earth; and all that had been done in Ishtar's promise to assist the young Guardian ... the golden-eyed Oni could feel it as the High Priestess' smile grew, eyes aglow with the selfsame happiness that had been shared between them through the bond of Aka Manah during their Ritual of Binding. And when the matter of Sarada was reached, and of how Ishtar had found in her a happiness and content that had not been expected- the result in part, of her similarity to the woman who now held her close- and of the connection of Aka Manah that had been fostered in their time spent together ... Sekhmet offered the Oni a tender kiss, before wiping away the tears once more.

"No need for tears, now." The Khosian stated, softly.

"In the end, I am glad for you, little love ... and even it is not to last ... I would not see you suffer your path of long years without such lanterns of happiness to guide you. So that you have found such ... please, do not weep when our moment has passed. That is all I ask of you."

At hearing this, Ishtar did her best to nod, yet she could not find within her the words to speak.

As their time wound down to its final minutes however, the Khosian High Priestess offered Ishtar another gift, and using what energy that had been returned to her for her brief foray into the land of the living, she imbued the crystal of the golden-eyed Oni's arm, with an imprinted memory. An offering of knowledge for the selfsame ability that Legion, the Last Moonsworn had brought to bear in its final moments. The Judgement of the Luminaries. An ability that required both the blessings of the Sun, and its life giving energies; and the Moon, and its silvery glow.

"Perhaps in time, you may come to understand what I have offered you, but for now simply know that I will always be with you now."

Realizing that the time of separation was now at hand, Sekhmet offered Ishtar one final embrace, before standing to leave. Only for the golden-eyed Oni to wrap a hand around her wrist, and provide the slightest of tugs.

"Sekhmet, before you go ... I would ask one final favor ..."

And when Sekhmet heard what it was, she nodded.

"I can do that, my little love."

---

Far away as Asha'rah was, the former Goddess could not mistake the sound that came from the voice that somehow carried itself across the barren surface of Ilargi, then.

With a voice that brought with it the warmth of the sun, and the comforting glow of a full moon ... the fallen God of Creation would know then, where Ishtar had learned the song that had been offered during Chuan's mending of Nunlil's injuries.

"Lavei, filak, tisa..."

---

And as the time reached it's final second, and Sekhmet finished the final lines, the body that had been offered her by Asha'rah's gift of energy began to lose its shape. So with a hand placed gently under Ishtar's chin, to tilt her head up towards the Khosian's smile, the two offered thier final goodbyes ... and in the end, it was only four words.

"Goodbye, Ishtar."

" ... Goodbye, Sekhmet."

And with a final flash of golden light, Sekhmet, the Daughter of Iah, and the last High Priestess of the Order of the Twin Luminaries died a final time.

Staring up at where she had last- and would for the last time- seen her love, then. Ishtar did not have within her then, the strength to stand. Yet true to her word, and in fulfillment of the final request of her now-gone love ...

Ishtar did not weep.

[grampagen]

“I’ll digitize copies right away. I can also store the originals somewhere safe if you like. As to a favor, what do you need?”

Ochazuke chuckled. Pantaloon was always moving forward without a moment to waste.

"If you would, I'd be grateful," he said. "With the threat of Simon Battersea gone, Samson Balon has put all his energy into catching up for lost years, recovering his history."

He looked to Jinzi, face still as he tried to find the words.

"I don't suppose you would have any interest in a task such as that? Rediscovery of lost things...or archaeology," he said, "The future is always in a state of flux as we move towards it. But understanding where we come from is likewise a worthy endeavor."