Dragonball M, Chapter 2: Lighthouse! Across the Shores of Shattered Time!

[Cyke]

Dash waits until Meagan is far enough away and engaged in talking to someone else before speaking to Zaofan, "Cya an' ah are gonna make Meagan stay here with Jinzi, an we need your help. See, we know she's still thinkin' of coming on the next mission, so Cya an ah decided, as a weddin' gift, to make sure she doesn't. Maybe we can talk her out of it, but if we can't we're gonna lock her an Jinzi up in a room just long enough for the rest of us to leave. But we need support. Will you back us up on this?"

Zaofan's eyes widen at the news. Normally such an action would preclude his eyes zapping something, but instead he is zapped with confusion.

He exhales tersely and puts thumbnail to upper teeth, thinking and looking around. "That's a fine idea for a honeymoon, but Meagan is one of the last people I'd ever want to tick off! She'd never forgive us if we kept her away from the action. And she loves her action!"

The chef begins pacing back and forth in small steps, thinking as best he can. "You realize you're asking me to betray a friend. A guardian, at that. And for what, for her own happiness and well-being? Pssshhh--"

The lighbulb goes off. "--ssshhooOOOH, right. Her own happiness and well-being. There'll be hell to pay when we return, but we'll burn that bridge when we get there, I guess. How do you dampen a rainbow?"

Finally, he nods in agreement. "Alright, alright. If it helps, maybe we can get Jack and Chuan and whoever else is staying behind on board with this plan, too. They're just as much friends to her as she is to me. But she's one of my closest friends on this team, and I commit to seeing her through."

[Sub-Zero MKA]

"Well, isn't there a room on the Lookout where you can be locked inside for a day and a year has gone by inside?" Cyanna, she then nodded, "That can be a last resort. My sister can be pretty stubborn when she wants to be, but she might listen to reason."

"Yeah, but that's where we'll be jumping to other timelines, so that's the last place she needs to be." Sarada tapped her chin in thought, then sighed. "We'll just have to convince her. There isn't a door on this planet that'll hold your sister if she doesn't want it to."

[grampagen]

Ah, trust Ochazuke to confront the awkward, to speak true where others would demur. Where Ishtar had spoken to, he spoke with. Where others were silent, he asked. Wrong though he was about the reasons for Asha'rah's silence (and Ishtar's for that matter), the important thing was that he sought to break it. Asha'rah smiled, her somewhat befouled mood lifting to a point.

"If one simply wishes to say their piece and leave, Ochazuke, I see no reason to prostrate myself for such middling purpose."

She spread her hands.

"You only needed to ask. You, all of you, are all caught up in wars of cosmic scale, of godly scale. But we gods find ourselves unable to shoulder the burden that should still have been ours to bear. There is very little information I would deny you."

A curled finger pressed to her lips for a moment as Asha'rah considered how best to start.

"Have you ever wondered Why? Why create all this? Why did we gods not simply create more gods?"

"Prostrate. Strange choice of words." Ochazuke narrowed his eyes. "Is that what you would call it?"

He ventured half a step forward to face the goddess in her earthly visage, unguarded, hands hanging at his sides.

"Is it too much of a burden as well to see more than is offered? You know Ishtar speaks without lies, but that is a truth conceived only as she is able to see it. If you'd allow her to depart a Destroyer, unchecked, full of unresolved grievances without answers, the only debasement will be to stand aside and do nothing."

"But...if it is too much to enact this labour, to stand and deliver our mutual friend, perhaps there are more cracks in the firmament of this universe than the latest ones that threaten us."

"Yet it is as you say. God, mortal, we are all involved in these matters now. The lines have begun to blur where unchecked ambitions have risen, and those who reached towards the warmth of the sun have found only a cold, unfeeling vacuum the universe over. We've seen what this results in for those who have found nothing greater in mind than their own power, their own sense of self: Solipsism, subjugation, and endless stagnation."

He cast a brief look to the chaff-littered sky above. If one allowed idle thoughts to wander, it would seem as if the stars had been brought nearer and more brilliant, seized and brought closer to Earth.

"Present company excluded, few that would claim to be gods have been agreeable. Suppose there were more, little would be learned, and little would change. Yet I, for one, would like to hear it from you. Say on."

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Watching the dance floor fill up as he took the garnished sashimi over rice, Ochazuke chewed slowly as Parsley's words left her.

"It's one thing to repeat a cliche by rote," he replied. "Those are just words, spoken by those who dare not look in that dark place, and find what unsettling truths dwell there."

He sat there surveying the crowd. Between the movement of dance to the rhythm of whatever strange song, the presence of the Crimson Gaze stood among them, a world apart from Zaofan in the depth of company, there amid Meagan and Jinzi in the middle of the plaza.

"We all must make our choices, some lend themselves inadvertently to such rude awakening. Still, for how low, how twisted the design of this universe runs, it sets a moment like theirs in a greater perspective, and gives us something worth fighting for."

Besides the food, all that separated the space between him and Parsley was a mere half a glass of wine. He'd known a Saiyan's appetite was only matched by their constitution; whatever she spoke would not coaxed out by any other means than her own.

"Your return was sudden. I know it was not because you were spoiling for the fight of your life after all this time," he said. "It is quite a distance to travel for a shining moment."

"I don't speak from some trivial desire to appear deep and philosophic," Parsley replied plainly. "My words are born from experience. Much how I suspect yours are."

Her returns - to this planet and to life itself - were as sudden as her departure from the latter. The former was gradual. She indeed saw it coming days before it actually happened; that time was what she needed to not just accept her death, but embrace and long for it. For truly, death was more desirable than extended suffering.

Her appetite, the only thing that made her feel like a Saiyan, even as her tail's absence became more and more normalized, lingered even after the steaks that once filled the plate in her lap had vanished to the ravenous, insatiable stomach within her.

"I died," she stated bluntly. "And when your dragon resurrected me and the millions of other Saiyans who were slained for the sins of others, it transported us to Vocado. Your guardian then made a wish to bring those allied with this world here to battle Luop. I accepted, since the only other recourse was to face the consequences a year long sojourn into Purgatory would bring." Her hands tightened into fists, shivering and trembling until she willed them to stop. Even then, a tremor shook through them every so often.

"When you're on your second life, the things that meant the world to you the first time - pride, status, glory - are proven to be just as meaningless as you refused to accept the first time. Saiyan society when I was growing up was centered around these facets, the vainglory of a hard fought conquest, the brittle pride that swelled with growing strength, the hallow arrogance that was my race was known for. My entire life was centered around how strong I was, and nothing more."

Slowly, her hands unfurled into they were laying flat on her thighs. She turned them over and looked at her palms. Some said the darkened lines etched within held the secrets to a person's future. She was sure she didn't believe that.

"Now I have nothing. Nothing but nightmares and an ever-present face that haunts me every time I close my eyes."

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

After the ceremony, Ishtar was quick to grab food from the spread that had been provided by Zaofan -- and Ochazuke of all people -- and once that was settled; the Oni found herself returning to keep her promise.

And what Ishtar found when she returned to where Asha'rah had been, not far removed from where she had been left, came as little surprise. The former deity had opted not answer after her departure. Though curiously, it seemed as if Ochazuke had arrived to push the issue.

Heh.

Ah, trust Ochazuke to confront the awkward, to speak true where others would demur. Where Ishtar had spoken to, he spoke with. Where others were silent, he asked. Wrong though he was about the reasons for Asha'rah's silence (and Ishtar's for that matter), the important thing was that he sought to break it. Asha'rah smiled, her somewhat befouled mood lifting to a point.

"If one simply wishes to say their piece and leave, Ochazuke, I see no reason to prostrate myself for such middling purpose."

She spread her hands.

"You only needed to ask. You, all of you, are all caught up in wars of cosmic scale, of godly scale. But we gods find ourselves unable to shoulder the burden that should still have been ours to bear. There is very little information I would deny you."

A curled finger pressed to her lips for a moment as Asha'rah considered how best to start.

"Have you ever wondered Why? Why create all this? Why did we gods not simply create more gods?"

"Prostrate. Strange choice of words." Ochazuke narrowed his eyes. "Is that what you would call it?"

He ventured half a step forward to face the goddess in her earthly visage, unguarded, hands hanging at his sides.

"Is it too much of a burden as well to see more than is offered? You know Ishtar speaks without lies, but that is a truth conceived only as she is able to see it. If you'd allow her to depart a Destroyer, unchecked, full of unresolved grievances without answers, the only debasement will be to stand aside and do nothing."

"But...if it is too much to enact this labour, to stand and deliver our mutual friend, perhaps there are more cracks in the firmament of this universe than the latest ones that threaten us."

"Yet it is as you say. God, mortal, we are all involved in these matters now. The lines have begun to blur where unchecked ambitions have risen, and those who reached towards the warmth of the sun have found only a cold, unfeeling vacuum the universe over. We've seen what this results in for those who have found nothing greater in mind than their own power, their own sense of self: Solipsism, subjugation, and endless stagnation."

He cast a brief look to the chaff-littered sky above. If one allowed idle thoughts to wander, it would seem as if the stars had been brought nearer and more brilliant, seized and brought closer to Earth.

"Present company excluded, few that would claim to be gods have been agreeable. Suppose there were more, little would be learned, and little would change. Yet I, for one, would like to hear it from you. Say on."

Posted up a short distance away, the Oni heard the back and forth -- after the initial -- and rolled her eyes. Asha'rah, true to form, continued with her nonanswers. Opting instead to ask Ochazuke questions. True to his own form however, the grim warrior struck at the heart of it. Pointing out the flaws in Asha'rah's refusal while answering what little of the Fallen's questioning that mattered.

Yet I, for one, would like to hear hear it from you. Say on.

Ishtar chuckled.

Presence announced now, vocally, the golden-eyed Oni stared at Asha'rah then, and with something approaching a grunt of annoyance offered the fallen deity a few words. "We have humored you, Asha'rah. You have your audience. Now, speak your answers."

[grampagen]

"I don't speak from some trivial desire to appear deep and philosophic," Parsley replied plainly. "My words are born from experience. Much how I suspect yours are."

Her returns - to this planet and to life itself - were as sudden as her departure from the latter. The former was gradual. She indeed saw it coming days before it actually happened; that time was what she needed to not just accept her death, but embrace and long for it. For truly, death was more desirable than extended suffering.

Her appetite, the only thing that made her feel like a Saiyan, even as her tail's absence became more and more normalized, lingered even after the steaks that once filled the plate in her lap had vanished to the ravenous, insatiable stomach within her.

"I died," she stated bluntly. "And when your dragon resurrected me and the millions of other Saiyans who were slained for the sins of others, it transported us to Vocado. Your guardian then made a wish to bring those allied with this world here to battle Luop. I accepted, since the only other recourse was to face the consequences a year long sojourn into Purgatory would bring." Her hands tightened into fists, shivering and trembling until she willed them to stop. Even then, a tremor shook through them every so often.

"When you're on your second life, the things that meant the world to you the first time - pride, status, glory - are proven to be just as meaningless as you refused to accept the first time. Saiyan society when I was growing up was centered around these facets, the vainglory of a hard fought conquest, the brittle pride that swelled with growing strength, the hallow arrogance that was my race was known for. My entire life was centered around how strong I was, and nothing more."

Slowly, her hands unfurled into they were laying flat on her thighs. She turned them over and looked at her palms. Some said the darkened lines etched within held the secrets to a person's future. She was sure she didn't believe that.

"Now I have nothing. Nothing but nightmares and an ever-present face that haunts me every time I close my eyes."

"I died."

So that was the impetus for her return. For one who lived for little more than the fight, struggle was the only world this Saiyan had likely ever known. To have all the purpose stripped from it bled her dry of meaning.

"I see."

Ochazuke swallowed a deathly cold morsel. Everything - and worse - that he had warned the Ultra Elite of the first time they met in the Lookout library had come to pass. Like her sister, Parsley had been born ready to win, but as the star of fortune passed from her to Sarada over time, she who had never known weakness was forced to confront it until she was swallowed by it entirely.

They pride themselves on their ability to return from a defeat stronger than ever, he thought to himself, balancing a clump of rice between his chopsticks. The possibility of a defeat she could not return from must have been inconceivable.

Until now. The lethality Parsley had dealt throughout her life was likely not something she though would be turned on her head, and there was a world of difference in her bearing for it. A short exhale left Ochazuke, bemused at the parallels from two years ago. Far more more than blood these sisters share.

"It is one thing to see the depths, and quite another to fall, and to know them." he said. "And in a manner of speaking, I know. Following the loss of everything, what else is left there at the bottom?"

The answer she knew better than he did.

"Nothing. But if empty regret is all we see behind closed eyes, as such it serves us better to keep them open."

[Tami]

"Yeah, but that's where we'll be jumping to other timelines, so that's the last place she needs to be." Sarada tapped her chin in thought, then sighed. "We'll just have to convince her. There isn't a door on this planet that'll hold your sister if she doesn't want it to."

"Dash and I could talk to her, but I have a feeling it might mean more if it came from you first."

[Tami]

Zaofan's eyes widen at the news. Normally such an action would preclude his eyes zapping something, but instead he is zapped with confusion.

He exhales tersely and puts thumbnail to upper teeth, thinking and looking around. "That's a fine idea for a honeymoon, but Meagan is one of the last people I'd ever want to tick off! She'd never forgive us if we kept her away from the action. And she loves her action!"

The chef begins pacing back and forth in small steps, thinking as best he can. "You realize you're asking me to betray a friend. A guardian, at that. And for what, for her own happiness and well-being? Pssshhh--"

The lighbulb goes off. "--ssshhooOOOH, right. Her own happiness and well-being. There'll be hell to pay when we return, but we'll burn that bridge when we get there, I guess. How do you dampen a rainbow?"

Finally, he nods in agreement. "Alright, alright. If it helps, maybe we can get Jack and Chuan and whoever else is staying behind on board with this plan, too. They're just as much friends to her as she is to me. But she's one of my closest friends on this team, and I commit to seeing her through."

"Ah don't wanna scare her," Dash smirked slightly, then nods, "alright, we can tell them too. Once we have Mission Team Keep Meg an Jin Together assembled, we can talk to her an convince her to stay behind."

[bruceleegreyhulk]

Althena speaks to Megan saying " Megan I hope you and everyone here enjoy that song I sung during the wedding ceremony." " it a timeless Toadian wedding song that dates back before the Toadian Kingdom was created." " the song is called Masohizkaio Kazoksuto Pazkuiskoitoiu Zasklzotiou Nokikouiapoi, or in Earth English Ray of Hope Shining in the Darkness !" " also my descendent Qaztoh wants everyone here to do Karaoke and I haven no idea what that is?"

[Tami]

Althena speaks to Megan saying " Megan I hope you and everyone here enjoy that song I sung during the wedding ceremony." " it a timeless Toadian wedding song that dates back before the Toadian Kingdom was created." " the song is called Masohizkaio Kazoksuto Pazkuiskoitoiu Zasklzotiou Nokikouiapoi, or in Earth English Ray of Hope Shining in the Darkness !" " also my descendent Qaztoh wants everyone here to do Karaoke and I haven no idea what that is?"

"Yes, we did. It was very lovely." Meagan smiled, then shrugged slightly, "However, I am not that familiar with this karaoke. If anyone else wishes to, that would be fine. Just remember that we still have to prepare for an upcoming mission. I did not intend for this to be an all day event, and I'm sure that the others are anxiosu to get themselves ready for combat."

[bruceleegreyhulk]

"Yes, we did. It was very lovely." Meagan smiled, then shrugged slightly, "However, I am not that familiar with this karaoke. If anyone else wishes to, that would be fine. Just remember that we still have to prepare for an upcoming mission. I did not intend for this to be an all day event, and I'm sure that the others are anxiosu to get themselves ready for combat."

Althena replies to this saying " thanks and you too?" " I'm glad am not the only one who isn't familiar with this thing my descendent Qaztoh calls Karaoke . " Althena spots Qaztoh talking to Blizzar about something saying " well it seems like Qaztoh is have a little talk with that person over there about something and she's pointy at that strange object." " anyways I guess I'll be stay here."

"no reason for me to be jumping into alternate timelines." " I need to be here to training Qaztoh and also to protect the Lookout." Praxat walks up to Megan saying " look I'm going to prepare for the upcoming mission." " oh I have a theory that Althena might not actually be alive in one of the alternate timelines."

"my theory is that in one of the Alternate timelines Althena probably was never frozen." " it doesn't seem like a big deal but just one small change to one event can lead to larger changes in later events. " Qaztoh can be heard saying to Blizzar " look I swear to that's not stolen !" " Captain Stratovarius and his crew gave this to me 2 years ago on my 15th birthday."

" if Captain Stratovarius said he and his crew didn't steal it then I trust them." " you can examine it if you want, but I'm telling you this Karaoke Machine wasn't stolen."

[KingofPie]

"my theory is that in one of the Alternate timelines Althena probably was never frozen." " it doesn't seem like a big deal but just one small change to one event can lead to larger changes in later events. " Qaztoh can be heard saying to Blizzar " look I swear to that's not stolen !" " Captain Stratovarius and his crew gave this to me 2 years ago on my 15th birthday."

" if Captain Stratovarius said he and his crew didn't steal it then I trust them." " you can examine it if you want, but I'm telling you this Karaoke Machine wasn't stolen."

Blizzar having nothing better to do at the moment, aside from intently listening to the duel of words being held with Asha'rah, sighed and checked the Karaoke Machine to determine if there were any obvious signs of it being stolen.

[KingofPie]

Sasheem, fresh from attending the party in his own manner, made a few 'business stops' before flying down towards Capital City's own, Seven Cornucopias restaurant. An five-star establishment with a menu known throughout the world for it's extravagant prices as much as the quality of it's cuisine. As such, it was unofficially an upper-class eatery, it's tables most often seated with various members of 'high society'; billionaires, dignitaries, and the like.

It was also secretly run by one of the most corrupt and cruel criminals on Earth, Charles Garlbred. Now, Sasheem didn't particularly care what this man did, but to complete his self imposed quest he had to go, just like the rest. And now was the opportune time. On certain, seemingly random days a week, the restaurant would close it's doors to a select few VIP patrons. It was often wondered who these VIP's were as not even the richest in the city were among these lucky few. In truth it was simply Garlbread's favorite place to meet with his associates and talk business. The atmosphere was cozy and classy and the food was delicious. At least Sasheem hoped so.

Garlbred schedule was only known to a select few. Lofe had happened to be one of those few, having managed to get hold of it, luckily for Sasheem. The Majin landed on the street and approached the concierge, who was a thin bald man sporting glasses and a pencil thin mustache. He glanced at Sasheem in mild shock but did nothing to overtly lose his calm composure as he stood at a podium, pen in hand.

"Open so soon after the invasion, huh?" Sasheem asked. "Guess a popular restaurant's job is never done...Say, Sasheem is looking for the owner of this establishment, a Mr. Charles Garlbred. He's in there today, right?"

The concierge was in shock...inwardly, of course. Retaining the unemotional facade, he wondered how this...creature could've acquired this information. No one in the highest of circles knew of Garlbred's ownership of the Seven Cornucopias. So what connections did some monster have to obtain this? He figured he may as well discern who this blue fishy creature was working for. "Apologies, sir..who did you say was sought an audience with Monsieur Garlbred?"

"Sasheem," the Majin repeated, pointing a thumb at himself.

It took a minute for it to register with the concierge that Sasheem had been speaking to him in the third person. Very quaint. However this monster could not be allowed on the premises. "Ah, of course...we don't have many customers today, as you can see. V.I.P only...but if this is of the utmost urgency, I'll right down your name and seat you at the soonest convenience," the concierge grinned, beginning to jot Sasheem's name down on the reservation list...or at least he would have, but his pen appeared out of ink.

"Ah, forgive me sir," the concierge apologized, placing the pen on the podium. "Can never find a good pen these days. Luckily, I always have a spare," he smiled, reaching into his coat pocket. "You stupid cretin...I'll do what I always do when undesirables come about the premises," the concierge thought maliciously, reaching for his custom pistol, equipped with a silencer. He didn't partake in assassination often, but it was always a pleasure when the time came. All he had to do was the usual. Shoot him fatally, claim that he had suddenly fallen ill, the civilians of Capital City caught completely unaware. Then, call for an ambulance, at which point, a pair of 'medics' in Monsieur Garlbred's employ will make sure the creature's body is never found. Simple and easy.

The concierge was a quick draw, his trigger finger firing a bullet, right into Sasheem's head. The Majin suddenly slumped over the podium, causing Garlbred to shout in alarm. "Oh dear! This poor, erm, thing seems to have fallen ill! Never fear, sir! I'll call the local medical facility at once!" he proclaimed, pressing a button under the podium. "Come in...this is Seven Cornucopias. Someone seems to have fallen ill, you must see to him immediately..."

The concierge patiently awaited for a response...and no one came. How odd. Usually they would relay a message back to show they were arriving soon to do what had to be done. "Lookin' for you fellow flunkies, huh?" Sasheem grinned, lifting himself up as the bullet the concierge had shot him with popped harmless out of his forehead and onto the podium. The concierge eyes bugged out, staring blankly up from the bullet to Sasheem. "Took care of 'em on the way here..." the Majin chuckled, rearing back his fist. "Now as for you..."

***

The greeter of the Seven Cornucopias, sat inattentive, her feet kicked up atop the front desk. On slow days like this, when Mr. Garlbred was actually in attendance, she could afford to not pay attention and just play on her phone instead. If anything happened, it was usually the concierge who had all the fun of taking out the trash. So it left her in a bit of a shock when his head crashed through the revolving door and landed on her desk, followed by a blue monster thing casually strolling through.

"Ah, sorry about that," Sasheem sighed, brushing some glass off of himself. "Sasheem was trying to get that guy to tell him where he could find Charles Garlbred, but there was a bit of miscommunication. Do you know where he is?"

"Uh...um...uh.." the greeter stammered.


"Uh, um, uhhhh," Sasheem mocked irritably. "You have anything to actually say, or are you just gonna stand there, lookin' stupid."

"Sorry, I usually let my gun do the talkin'!" the greeter shouted gleefully, as she whipped out a tommygun from under the desk. It had been a while since she got in on some action. And with the concierge dead, she was sure to get a big bonus for taking care of the job when he could not. Luckily the walls were sound proof and the glass was tinted on the outside. None could hear her weapon of choice as it rained bullets down onto this weird blue bastard. None would see a murder occur at the front desk of one of the finest restaurants in Capital City. Of course, there was always the coverup. They couldn't hide the death of the concierge, but taking care of the creature came first. Sasheem merely stood and folded his arms as she began to pull the trigger.

BRAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAKAK A! the gun fired off, peppering the Majin with bullet after bullet. He simply stood their, a scowl on his face, his arms remaining folded until the greeter had emptied her last clip. "You done, yet?" Sasheem frowned, the bullet holes dotting his flesh rapidly healing. "Not that Sasheem really cares, but..." he pointed behind him, to the numerous bullet holes that had been shot through the wall and windows. "People are probably gonna notice something bad went down here...unless they got hit by one of your stray bullets."

"Uh....how about I...just get...Mr. Garlbred for you...?" the greeter smiled awkwardly, calmly placing the gun down and scooting back towards the elevator behind her.

"Ah! Good idea!" Sasheem smiled, nodding in agreement. "But between you and Sasheem, you should probably take the express route."

"The WhaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-," the greeter shouted as she was suddenly kicked through the ceiling and up through all three upper floors of the restaurant. Garlbred happened to be on the top and was given a mild surprise as his greet flew through his floor and damaged the structural integrity of the building.

"Guess that's that..." Sasheem yawned as the building began to rumble, turning to leave. "Oh wait! Damn near forgot..." Sasheem zooms around towards the kitchen, boxing up as much grub as he could before making his exit, the building falling in on itself behind him as he flew away at high speeds, letting the crowd gathering outside pay more attention to premature condemning of the Seven Cornucopias.

[Tami]

Having made the rounds, Meagan returns to Jinzi as the partying begins to die down.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

"I died."

So that was the impetus for her return. For one who lived for little more than the fight, struggle was the only world this Saiyan had likely ever known. To have all the purpose stripped from it bled her dry of meaning.

"I see."

Ochazuke swallowed a deathly cold morsel. Everything - and worse - that he had warned the Ultra Elite of the first time they met in the Lookout library had come to pass. Like her sister, Parsley had been born ready to win, but as the star of fortune passed from her to Sarada over time, she who had never known weakness was forced to confront it until she was swallowed by it entirely.

They pride themselves on their ability to return from a defeat stronger than ever, he thought to himself, balancing a clump of rice between his chopsticks. The possibility of a defeat she could not return from must have been inconceivable.

Until now. The lethality Parsley had dealt throughout her life was likely not something she though would be turned on her head, and there was a world of difference in her bearing for it. A short exhale left Ochazuke, bemused at the parallels from two years ago. Far more more than blood these sisters share.

"It is one thing to see the depths, and quite another to fall, and to know them." he said. "And in a manner of speaking, I know. Following the loss of everything, what else is left there at the bottom?"

The answer she knew better than he did.

"Nothing. But if empty regret is all we see behind closed eyes, as such it serves us better to keep them open."

With his response, Ochazuke showed he understood her dilemma better than most would have. Even if he never experienced death for himself, it appeared he skirted near the edge in one manner or the other. Regardless, his wisdom was simple. Which was far more effective than the copious amounts of flowery speech some such philosophers liked to dole out. It was easy enough for Parsley to understand in her raw state of being.

Rather than closing her eyes and choosing to be tormented by Appel's haunting visage, she should just keep her eyes open. Rather than dwelling on the past and its horrors, she should focus on the present and future.

It was simple.

Yet, the simplest things were often the hardest to do. Her mind, riddled with guilt over the millions of dead bodies on her conscience, wanted to dwell on the past to further punish her, even though her penance had run its course.

"I realize I should just look forward and not back, but it's hard when your mind wants to punish you for your past. I've killed hundreds of millions in just a few short years, for no reason other than the sport of it. When I died, I spent much of my time in the Otherworld agonizing over those sins. Now that I'm alive, it's more of the same, except now my guilt feeds and empowers the trauma." She shook her head and cast her gaze to the plates set between them. "Both intrinsically linked to make my life hell, and make it impossible to move forward with my life."

To settle one, she had to settle the other. The guilt, as she said, fed and empowered the desire to punish herself through intense trauma. For her to finally be free of her trammels, she needed to first settle the guilt in her heart.

Reparations belonged to the living, and forgiveness was theirs to bestow. That was what Ishtar told her yesterday. That meant making things right with the people she wronged, those that still drew breath.

Sarada.

Gangal.

She was sure there were others, but those were the main two who stood out right away. Sarada, funnily, was the easier of the two. Their sisterly bond made forgiveness easier, especially now that the truth of her role in her molestation was out in the open - well, on Vocado, anyway. Gangal, on the other hand, may have been far more difficult to cajole into forgiving her. Well worth the effort, if it meant finally freeing herself of the chains that kept her bound to that horrific lab in Turrip.

"I know what I must do," she finally said. "Seeking forgiveness from the dead is like striving after the wind. Pointless, and disappointment is all you will receive. Instead, I'll beg forgiveness from the living. Those I've wronged that still draw breath. Starting with my sister."