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

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Weeks later still:

Silent since departure, when Sarada offered her soft apologies the Oni simply looked down at the Monarch, and offered her a small- if sad- smile.

"Please do not worry over what happened on Callion, Little Love. While the displays are different, the sentiment is one I have seen before." When Sarada then kissed the side of her mouth, Ishtar took the Saiyans hand in her own and offered it a loving squeeze.

"The silver-lining, is that what the Moonsworn managed five-thousand years ago, will not happen here. So do not worry, we will certainly fix it."

They had to, after all.

Wishing to forget what she had just witnessed however- and wanting to forget the memories it had dredged back up- Ishtar nuzzled her lover's head gently before asking. "What do you think the others will say, when they learn of what you have become ?"

Callion had soured what had originally been a very enjoyable and informative two weeks across the Saiyan Empire. That Ishtar reacted about as well as she thought she would was encouraging. That Ishtar was moments away from wiping out the animals that had just killed off an entire family for the dastardly crime of daring to be of more than one race was understandable. It took far more restraint than Sarada thought herself in possession of to keep from just saying fuck it and wiping out the entire planet. Men and women were barely above the animals they slaughtered and ate, and the children were being exposed to this poisonous rhetoric of "might makes right" and "Saiyans first, Saiyans always". It was nonsense, and Sarada was very happy to finally be gone from that shithole.

That being said, she couldn't help but feel just a tad bit sorry for them. They were in a position of entirely their own making, but were too blind to see it. They lashed out at her and Ishtar simply because they represented the thing that they felt was responsible for their poverty. In reality, it was their over-reliance on war that led to their downfall.

Being poor was a humiliating experience. She hoped that poverty instilled some humility in them. If not, they were going to continue to exist at the very bottom of Saiyan society, forever doomed to look up at the rest of the Empire as they all progressed to enlightened pastures, while those of Callion remained in the dark ages.

It was sad, yet it was their own doing.

"I don't know," she answered when ask how she felt the others would react to her being Queen. "I'd like to think they'd be happy, but I somehow doubt it." Eva would be, that much she was certain. Possibly Jack, too. The others, she honestly didn't know.

She sighed contently and laid her head on her love's chest. She fell silent so she could hear her heartbeat and her steady breathing. "Then again, it doesn't really matter. Yours is the only opinion that matters to me. If they congratulate me, great. If not, oh well. I won't lose any sleep over it."

[Tami]

Approximately 120 after leaving Earth, the spaceship landed in an open area near Capsule Corp.

When the hatch opened, Cyanna was the first out, followed by Dash, then Meagan who lagged behind to make sure the ship was properly shut down.

The three were dressed casually, with Meagan's clothes hanging loosely over her. After a few moments to enjoy the fresh air, they headed towards the entrance of the extremely large building.

Once there, Meagan rings the door bell, not knowing if anyone was inside at this time of day.

[Yun Lao]

Charco slid across the salt flat, propelled by some unseen force that was neither ki nor magic.

It had been a day since he had found the old hermit and teenager still wasn't entirely sure what happened during their exchange. The old man had shrieked for Charco to leave, yet ordered him to stay when he attempted to do just that. The geezer was either contrary as hell, or just enjoyed fucking with people. Either way, here they were.

"I can see it; you strongly take after her. She was the last "guest" before you..."

He could only imagine how that interaction with, if Poepayne was indeed speaking of his grandmother. An old man who bitched about everything and generally made life horrible for those around him vs a woman who, absolutely, would take no shit from anything nor anyone.

"Curious are we? I can just tell you want to know. I hate that curiosity! That childish need to pry into the business of others."

"Look..." Charco began, attempting to brush off the salt and muck from his shoulder with little luck, "...I was told that you were the expert when it came to Rex-"

"That damned beast!" Poepayne shouted, cutting Charco short, "That's all everyone speaks of! If I knew I would be pestered so much about it, I would have gave in to him long ago! Fortunately for you, I hate that animal more than nuisances like yourself."

Raising a hand and pointing a spidery-thin finger towards the boy, the ground between them erupted as Poepayne's unique power caved the earth downward, creating a tsunami of debris headed towards. Faced with this violent upheaval, Charco answered in kind with a Tyranno Blast, punching a hole through it.

"You will find no easy answers here, boy." Poepayne's raspy voice said directly behind him. Caught off-guard, Charco was driven straight into the ground and quickly found himself unable to breathe as his chest was compressed from the pressure pushing down on him. Crawling at the earth, he craned his head up and caught a glimpse of the hateful glare from the hermit as the elder looked down upon the boy with complete contempt. "There is no cure to rid oneself of Rex. He is as a part of you as your flesh and blood."

Charco's vision blackened and he began to slip into unconsciousness, but not before hearing the hermit's parting words, "There is no escape from this, save death..."

[Yun Lao]

He leads her and him in and they share a lovely salad meal together.

“How do you know Jinzi then?”

Quila ate or at least took a few nibbles or a piece here or there. It seemed probable that he could eat, but might not have had to. After a few stabs with his fork, the child-sized mutant was done or appeared to have indicated that much as he placed the utensil down and neglected the salad from thereon.

"Jinzi provided me with some much-needed assistance upon my arrival. What is that term? He paid my bail? Yes, I believe that is how it goes, although he probably doesn't know it just yet."

Much of his time was spent looking around, growing fascinated with some random item before losing all interest in it and moving on to the next thing. This would be a very common occurrence during the following six months and while one could argue that he was spending it essentially "goofing off", he was always intensely focused on Kai's teachings to the Toadian, whom he would eventually learned was named Praxat.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Approximately 120 after leaving Earth, the spaceship landed in an open area near Capsule Corp.

When the hatch opened, Cyanna was the first out, followed by Dash, then Meagan who lagged behind to make sure the ship was properly shut down.

The three were dressed casually, with Meagan's clothes hanging loosely over her. After a few moments to enjoy the fresh air, they headed towards the entrance of the extremely large building.

Once there, Meagan rings the door bell, not knowing if anyone was inside at this time of day.

A scanner pops up, scans over her, then disappears as the door opens on its own.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Quila ate or at least took a few nibbles or a piece here or there. It seemed probable that he could eat, but might not have had to. After a few stabs with his fork, the child-sized mutant was done or appeared to have indicated that much as he placed the utensil down and neglected the salad from thereon.

"Jinzi provided me with some much-needed assistance upon my arrival. What is that term? He paid my bail? Yes, I believe that is how it goes, although he probably doesn't know it just yet."

Much of his time was spent looking around, growing fascinated with some random item before losing all interest in it and moving on to the next thing. This would be a very common occurrence during the following six months and while one could argue that he was spending it essentially "goofing off", he was always intensely focused on Kai's teachings to the Toadian, whom he would eventually learned was named Praxat.

Kai nods, smiling a bit, and as the training with Praxat extends into months, he often asks Quila to spar with them as they train.

[Tami]

A scanner pops up, scans over her, then disappears as the door opens on its own.

Entering the building, Meagan pauses as she surveys the Reception area. Continuing forward, she heads towards the central area of the building.

[Tami]

A scanner pops up, scans over her, then disappears as the door opens on its own.

Entering the building, Meagan pauses as she surveys the Reception area. Continuing forward, she heads towards the central area of the building.

Following close behind, Cyanna and Dash occasionally talk quietly to each other as they do.

[bruceleegreyhulk]

Kai nods, smiling a bit, and as the training with Praxat extends into months, he often asks Quila to spar with them as they train.

one time during her months of training Praxat looks at Kai and then at Quila saying " you know I have been treated better here than I was on my home planet Qacriea ." " I have a confession to make while I said I came here to gather information on the life forms here ." " that is not entirely true." " I was sent to this planet as a explorer ."


" task with gather intel on the planet's inhabits , wild life and resources." " intel that would be sent back to my planet's High council . " " on planet Qacriea my species can either be explorer or be task to work in the Workshop, and it's better to be a explorer than to work in the Workshop." " these explorations are for the sole purpose of conquest."

" Toadian explorers a task to finding planets that a fit to be conquer by the Replitas." " it's not like my species has any say in the matter we basically force to do this." " the Replitas are the rulers of my planet and as a species we just have to do what they order us to. " " even if we don't like it."


"cause the power difference between them and my species is so great that it would be pointless to fight them." " the Toadians who are sent to the Workshop are task to making weaponry for the Replitas." " once sent to the Workshop a Toadian doesn't come out until he's either finishes his work or he dies." " there is rarely any breaks and it's pretty much a hellish place to work in."

" I never in my life would want to go to the Workshop."

[Yun Lao]

Kai nods, smiling a bit, and as the training with Praxat extends into months, he often asks Quila to spar with them as they train.

"Spar..." The word sounded awkward on his tongue. Obviously, he knew what it meant, but it was apparent that he was not used to saying it in his everyday vocabulary. It should have applied to him, considering he was the most "organic" of the Last Call, but he had spent most of his time in missions and combat situations to really justify any additional training regimens.

Still, experience and natural ability could only get one so far, so perhaps some additional hard work would be needed for this upcoming conflict. "My skills may not contribute to an exciting or fair match, but I don't see any potential negative effects to attempting a spar."

one time during her months of training Praxat looks at Kai and then at Quila saying " you know I have been treated better here than I was on my home planet Qacriea ." " I have a confession to make while I said I came here to gather information on the life forms here ." " that is not entirely true." " I was sent to this planet as a explorer ."

" task with gather intel on the planet's inhabits , wild life and resources." " intel that would be sent back to my planet's High council . " " on planet Qacriea my species can either be explorer or be task to work in the Workshop, and it's better to be a explorer than to work in the Workshop." " these explorations are for the sole purpose of conquest."

" Toadian explorers a task to finding planets that a fit to be conquer by the Replitas." " it's not like my species has any say in the matter we basically force to do this." " the Replitas are the rulers of my planet and as a species we just have to do what they order us to. " " even if we don't like it."

"One invader after another..." Quila stated, nothing discernible with the matter-of-fact tone in his voice, "However, Jagam takes priority above all else as for this moment."

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

Weeks later still:

Callion had soured what had originally been a very enjoyable and informative two weeks across the Saiyan Empire. That Ishtar reacted about as well as she thought she would was encouraging. That Ishtar was moments away from wiping out the animals that had just killed off an entire family for the dastardly crime of daring to be of more than one race was understandable. It took far more restraint than Sarada thought herself in possession of to keep from just saying fuck it and wiping out the entire planet. Men and women were barely above the animals they slaughtered and ate, and the children were being exposed to this poisonous rhetoric of "might makes right" and "Saiyans first, Saiyans always". It was nonsense, and Sarada was very happy to finally be gone from that shithole.

That being said, she couldn't help but feel just a tad bit sorry for them. They were in a position of entirely their own making, but were too blind to see it. They lashed out at her and Ishtar simply because they represented the thing that they felt was responsible for their poverty. In reality, it was their over-reliance on war that led to their downfall.

Being poor was a humiliating experience. She hoped that poverty instilled some humility in them. If not, they were going to continue to exist at the very bottom of Saiyan society, forever doomed to look up at the rest of the Empire as they all progressed to enlightened pastures, while those of Callion remained in the dark ages.

It was sad, yet it was their own doing.

"I don't know," she answered when ask how she felt the others would react to her being Queen. "I'd like to think they'd be happy, but I somehow doubt it." Eva would be, that much she was certain. Possibly Jack, too. The others, she honestly didn't know.

She sighed contently and laid her head on her love's chest. She fell silent so she could hear her heartbeat and her steady breathing. "Then again, it doesn't really matter. Yours is the only opinion that matters to me. If they congratulate me, great. If not, oh well. I won't lose any sleep over it."

Ishtar nodded, when Sarada replied, happy for the moment at least to move onto other things.

"I see."

It was curious though, her Saiyan love's response. That she hoped they would find happiness in knowing what she'd become, but didn't much care to hope for it ... almost as if, in the end; it didn't matter what they thought or felt beyond what Sarada herself knew was ... a thing she confirmed not a moments later. At hearing that then, the Oni slipped into a silence, the steady cadences of breath and heartbeat the only thing that could be heard as her lovely Saiyan rest her head upon her chest.

Then all at once the sound returned, when Ishtar found it within herself to sigh happily. "Such a uniquely beautiful soul you have, Sarada." The Oni offered then, softly. "That you found yourself compelled to share it with me, will ever be greatest thing I had the chance to experience."

Glancing out the window of the craft that carried them ever closer toward Earth, then, the Oni placed a hand on Sarada's shoulder and offered her a loving squeeze.

"As we grow closer to Earth, I cannot help but wonder though what will happen to you and I ... us ... in that strange Room of Spirit, and Time." Ishtar stated slowly, to change the subject once more.

"Tell me, honestly, love of mine ... do you think a year will be enough ?"

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Ishtar nodded, when Sarada replied, happy for the moment at least to move onto other things.

"I see."

It was curious though, her Saiyan love's response. That she hoped they would find happiness in knowing what she'd become, but didn't much care to hope for it ... almost as if, in the end; it didn't matter what they thought or felt beyond what Sarada herself knew was ... a thing she confirmed not a moments later. At hearing that then, the Oni slipped into a silence, the steady cadences of breath and heartbeat the only thing that could be heard as her lovely Saiyan rest her head upon her chest.

Then all at once the sound returned, when Ishtar found it within herself to sigh happily. "Such a uniquely beautiful soul you have, Sarada." The Oni offered then, softly. "That you found yourself compelled to share it with me, will ever be greatest thing I had the chance to experience."

Glancing out the window of the craft that carried them ever closer toward Earth, then, the Oni placed a hand on Sarada's shoulder and offered her a loving squeeze.

"As we grow closer to Earth, I cannot help but wonder though what will happen to you and I ... us ... in that strange Room of Spirit, and Time." Ishtar stated slowly, to change the subject once more.

"Tell me, honestly, love of mine ... do you think a year will be enough ?"

"Such a uniquely beautiful soul you have, Sarada. That you found yourself compelled to share it with me, will ever be greatest thing I had the chance to experience."

Such a curiously beautiful comment from her love, one that made Sarada smile from ear to ear. She wasn't sure what a soul was, but whatever it was, there was no one in all of creation she would rather share it with than Ishtar. "There's no one I'd rather share it with," she answered.

The subject shifted once again, this time to the near future, and what their training in the Room of Time and Spirits had in store for the two of them. In truth, Sarada wasn't sure. She had no idea what this room was all about, other than it allowed a year's worth of training in a single day. How that was possible, she didn't know; nor was she aware of the ramifications, if there were any at all.

As wary as the lack of knowledge made her, in the end, she wasn't too concerned. Given how strong she had become in just a single year -- from just 50 to... whatever lofty height she currently found herself at -- she felt safe to assume that she could at least double her power with another year. Given how intense her training with Ishtar was, perhaps even more than double.

"I'm not sure. Even if we just continue our usual training regimen, we'll make lofty gains in that time."

Would that be enough? Would one year of training be enough to prepare her... prepare them for Jagam and his ally?

She didn't know. Anything was possible in a year, but without having any kind of idea what level Jagam was operating at outside of conjecture and assumptions, she couldn't say for certain.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I want to say yes, but without knowing how strong Jagam is for sure, I can't say with certainty." She sighed and walked toward the window. Countless tiny white orbs twinkled magnificently in the distance against the endless black backdrop of space. It was like a painting, perfect in every aspect. "We'll just have to do what we can, and hope it's enough."

She hated relying on hope. It felt like she was admitting her own strength and thinking ability wasn't enough. "I think we'll have an advantage, you and I. We'll know what the other is thinking at all times. Let's use that to our advantage; maybe come up with some dual techniques that meld our talents together."

Every advantage needed to be taken into consideration.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Humiliation.

Embarrassment.

She wanted to die.

How could this happen?

How?

She had trained for months. Prepared for that moment for years. It was her time, her moment. She had been heir apparent to the throne her entire life. Yet, in a flash, it all came crashing down. In an instant, it was all over.

The moment of Parsley's defeat replayed in her head over and over again. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that damnable form, that brown fur and hair, those eyes. She could hear her sister's taunts, unrelenting and with impunity. She could hear the cries of false pain, luring her into a fasle sense of security. No matter how many times she replayed the fight in her mind, no matter how many times she agonized over the most minute details of their battle, she still could not decipher how she lost.

She should have seen right through Sarada's scheme. In hindsight, it was so obvious. It was the most obvious, glaring weakness to the Blood Moon technique. It should have been child's play to decipher Sarada's basic intention and make an utter fool of her.

Yet, that didn't happen.

Why?

There was no reason for Parsley to have lost that match. It must have been something else. Nothing in her preparation should have led her to being incapacitated on the ground. Nothing.

It was that damned Hitozaru form. Not only did Sarada know it, but Mato, too. Even if she had beaten Sarada, Mato would have likely beaten her in the Battle Royale. Yes. That was the only reason Parsley wasn't the Queen right this moment.

She needed to learn it. She needed to uncover its secrets. She needed it for herself. Not just for Jagam, but for when she faced Sarada again. She needed to prove to herself, her sister, and the entire Saiyan Empire that she was still the strongest in her family. She needed to prove she could have beaten Sarada if they had been on even footing.

Shortly after her defeat, in the dead of night, she left Vocado. She would have left alone, but Avoca insisted on coming with her. In truth, she was glad to have her. She, loathed to admit it as she was, needed someone to temper the roiling feelings of self-hatred and endless disappointment. The younger Saiyan did what she could, offering reassurance and the occasional harsh word to rouse Parsley from her rut. Sometimes she listened, other times she didn't.

The times she did, she felt like her old self again. She felt that unbridled confidence and pride in her strength and ability. She felt that same cocksure belief that she could win against anyone, defeat anyone with either pure strength or clever thinking. She felt that it was an utter fluke that Sarada won that day, that if they faced each other a hundred times, Parsley would win 90% of them.

The times she didn't listen were her lowest moments. She doubted herself and her power. She began to think that the trainers were humoring her, that she wasn't really as strong and smart as she thought. Memories of the battles before that one and how weak her opponents were started to trickle through her mind. Was she that strong? Or were her opponents just that weak? The label Super Elite was meaningless to her now. She was so far above them, but was Sarada as far above her as she was above everyone else?

It was questions like that that kept Parsley up at night. Into the wee hours of the morning, Parsley stared up at the ceiling of her shared hotel room while Avoca slept the night away. Her mind raced, her spirit wilted, and her desire to strive to be the best lessened as each second ticked by.

Days turned to weeks. She and Avoca remained on the planet they found themselves on, one of the few that actually held Saiyans in a favorable light, undoubtedly due to Mato's efforts. Even still, word of the tournament traveled across the stars, as did Parsley's infamy. She had to disguise herself to keep from drawing too much attention to them.

Her words to Gangal had come to haunt her far more quickly than she figured. In truth, she wasn't sure if she meant what she said. At the time, she only wanted to get in her opponent's head, and that was the surest way to psych her out. It worked, but at a cost that Parsley couldn't pay.

She had been ostracized by her race, barred from Ruco and Pepa. Langal hadn't outright banned her, but she felt she wouldn't have been warmly welcomed. The only place she would have been able to stay would have been Callion. Not favorable in the least.

She didn't mean what she said. She wasn't the kind of person to commit genocide.

Or, that was what she kept telling herself to keep from admitting to herself what kind of monster she was. It was easier to simply deny her worst character traits, even to herself, than to face that horrible face in the mirror.

If this was the real her, someone who not only threatened genocide, but also would commit it on her own planet, then she had a lot to answer for.

The greatest question on her mind in that regard was why did she even care. It wasn't like her to give some much credence to the opinions of others. What made this particular opinion so much weightier in her eyes than every other one in the past?

Was it because it seemed to be the prevailing opinion of the majority of Saiyans? The only planet that shared her vision was Callion, which said more about her than she wanted to acknowledge. Other than that, there was only a relatively small smattering on Vocado and an even smaller one on Langal. Everyone else was against her.

Even Avoca.

The younger Saiyan confirmed her distaste for half-breeds, but in the very next breath stated they had a right to live however they wanted. It was a conflicted, half-hearted condemnation, one that left Parsley wondering which side of the race relation debate she really stood. It also made her wonder if she would have accepted Parsley's offer to make her her consort if she had won. It was thoughts like that that also kept her up at night.

Parsley hadn't slept much. This worked against her when she caught Avoca watching Sarada's coronation in the middle of the night. The girl was teary eyed, likely sad she wasn't able to make it in person. The volume was turned down low, but was up just high enough for Parsley to hear. Every word made her sick.

Sarada all but condemned her for what she said, said she only joined to keep her not only off the throne but to deter her from challenging at a later date, and then went on to say how “unqualified” she was. People loved to call Parsley egotistical, but carrying on about how she didn't deserve the job, and then refusing to hand it over to a better qualified person was the height of egotism. Sarada could say whatever she wanted; Parsley knew she was going to run the Saiyan race into the ground before she was done. If they weren't wiped out due to her ineptitude, she was going to get them enslaved again.

It made her defeat all the more sickening.

“You wouldn't have been Queen for long,” Avoca said suddenly. When Parsley turned over, feigning sleepiness, the younger girl didn't appear to be fooled. “I was there when Tasure talked with Maiz. She said that if you had won, she would have ended your reign before it even started.” She frowned heavily and looked away. “As she should have. Your vision was toxic, Parsley. It would have gotten us all killed one way or the other. So, yeah, I'm glad Sarada won. If not her, then Tasure or someone else. Just not you.”

Just not you.

The words cut more deeply than any blade ever could. She couldn't bring herself to respond. What could she even say? That she respectfully disagreed and didn't think her vision was toxic? That she would have been willing to listen and likely would have been talked out of her plan for genocide? She wasn't even sure if any of that was true.

She looked at Avoca, searching for some crack she could worm her way through to soften her hardened visage. Nothing. Seeing that nothing she could say would have any affect, she turned around and tried to go to sleep.

Weeks passed, and Parsley's sleep issues persisted. She was like a dulled blade, useless and more a danger to herself than anyone else. They traveled from planet to planet in search of proper training. They found it in the form of the natives who had clear issues with their kind. Avoca, the clear weaker of the two of them, had to save Parsley's neck multiple times. If not for her, her insomnia-induced sloppiness would have for sure gotten her killed.

What the hell is wrong with me?

It wasn't asked angrily or even irritably. It was just an honest question thought through a haze of desperation. There was one person that she knew of that had the answer. Maiz would have had plenty of strong words that would have been more than enough to get her out of her funk, but she was going to be busy helping her sister rule the Empire. Other than her, there was no one who could help her.

Would she have even listened?

She never did, except when what Maiz said aligned with her own opinion. If it ran contrary, it went in one ear and out the other.

Why did I lose?

Was it her own arrogance? Did she continue to rely on her own strength instead of seeing the bigger picture? Observation was half the battle. Preparation was the other half. Knowing her opponent and seeing their tendencies play out in real time was key to winning any fight. She knew Sarada better than anyone. The Hitozaru strategy caught her off-guard, but that shouldn't have stopped her from realized right away that she was targeting the Blood Moon.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Was it her pride that blinded her from the truth? She was stronger than Sarada in her Oozaru form. All she had to do was catch her off-guard, which she had done plenty of times. When she had the advantage, she foolishly allowed her time to recover.

No, no she didn't. Sarada simply forced herself to rise and continue. Parsley foolishly allowed herself the chance to believe she needed time to recover.

“You lost,” Avoca said suddenly one day.

Parsley frowned. “What?”

“I said you lost.”

Well, obviously she did. She wouldn't have been sitting in some run down hotel on some mudball planet in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere if she hadn't. She would have been sitting on a throne in the center of the Saiyan Empire, being tended to hand and foot.

“Sometimes you lose. There's no reason other than you got outfought. Stop obsessing over it and move on with your life. This woe-is-me bullshit you permeating in is pissing me off.”

Parsley felt her jaw grow taut. It wasn't just some phase she was going through. It was an existential crisis, and she didn't like Avoca just brushing it aside. “That's easy for you to say, unlike you, I knew I had a chance to win it all. I wasn't just doing it for fun, like you.”

The words were venomous and her tone sharp, just like the old days. But, Avoca didn't back down, nor did she appear particularly affected. “And yet, you didn't.”

Her teeth gritted together. “I'm aware. Thank you anyway for the astute observation, Avoca.”

“And Sarada won.”

“What is this, State The Fucking Obvious Day?!”

“I'm just making sure we're all on the same page. I wanted to win, too, you know. I don't know how I would have done, but with all the help Sarada has, I bet I'd make a pretty kickass Queen. You would have too, if you would have gotten over yourself. But, you didn't even make it out of the Challengers' Bracket. You couldn't get over your pride for one fight and actually fight like your opponent was stronger than you. Sarada was right, you've never fought against someone stronger than you, so when presented with exactly that, you fell back to old habits and fucked yourself over. That's why you lost. It isn't some grand mystery that requires a month of intense introspection, Parsley. It's clear as fucking day. You lost because you couldn't get over your ego. I did, and I almost won. If I had your strength, I would have easily beaten Sarada, and you.”

“You're full of shit,” she hissed. “There's no scenario in which you can defeat me. You're too weak.”

“The fact that you believe strength is the end-all-be-all in fighting shows why you lost. You had the necessary strength to beat Sarada, yet you let her outsmart you.”

“She didn't!” she screamed. “She did not outsmart me! I had the fight won!!”

“Oh,” she replied calmly. “Then explain why you blew up your own Blood Moon? Was that part of your overall strategy or was that an audible made at the last second?”

To that, she had no response.

“That's what I thought. And that's my point. You got outsmarted by someone younger and about as strong as you. What will happen if the same happens when you go to fight Jagam?” When she received no reply again, she continued. “He'll kill you. He'll kill you and I don't want that to happen. Because... because I don't.”

It was so obvious what she wanted to say that Parsley was still left speechless despite having not heard it. To think that someone, anyone could still love her after what she planned on doing was mind-boggling. “Why?”

Such an open-ended question, but Avoca seemed to understand what she was asking. “Because, I don't think what everyone sees is the real you. Somewhere, deep down, is the real Parsley that you, for some reason, have decided to keep hidden.”

A long-form way of saying that there was some nugget of good hidden deep down that she kept hidden away. The why was obvious – at the time of her upbringing, the Saiyan race was a vastly different entity. At least, the Saiyans on Vocado were. She simply adapted to fit in.

Assuming that was true. “How can you believe that?”

She apparently couldn't think of answer, so she shrugged.

Parsley shook her head and moved to lay down on the bed. It was too small for the both of them, so they had to sleep nestled together. Not that she minded in the least. When the younger Saiyan laid down next to her – back to her – she wrapped an arm around her waist and held her close. Her scent was intoxicating.

“Before you go to Earth, there's one thing I'd like to teach you.”

Avoca? Teach Parsley something? She had a feeling she knew what it was, but kept silent outside of an agreeable hum.

“Every little advantage counts, after all.”

It turned out the thing she wanted to teach her was her Ki Inhibition technique. She also showed her how to negate ki. Those two, when used in conjunction with each other, would be a death knell for Jagam. And Sarada, when Parsley got around to challenging for the throne.

They spent their final day together alone, interchanging between making love and just holding each other. It was moments like these that made Parsley understand why Avoca felt the way she did. And it helped her understand her own feelings on the matter. That she had come to genuinely enjoy her lover's company – as opposed to seeking to turn her against Sarada like she did when their affair first started – spoke volumes about the person Avoca saw in her.

Perhaps there was something to this love nonsense after all.

“I'll see you soon,” she told Avoca when they finally went their separate ways. She kissed her softly on the lips, then on the back of the hand.

She nodded and smiled softly. “Don't die.”

“I won't.”

“If you do, I'll kill you.”

“I don't doubt you'll try.”

With that, they entered their pods and departed – Avoca to Vocado and Parsley to Earth. It would be about a week before she reached the blue orb her sister had become so fond of. In that lapse of time, she needed to consider what she would say to her, and how she would be able to move forward after being humiliated by her.

The looming threat of Jagam was a blessing in that regard. Perhaps in killing him, they could reach an accord.

[Miburo]

All things considered, Drag had taken the situation in stride. He seemed more amused than shocked that Held was still counted among the living. He was mildly exasperated, but not at all surprised, that less than two minutes into the conversation Held had solicited his help, as opposed to a simple social call.

The nature of Helds problem had apparently caused the calloused lawyer to fall from his seat in shock, sending him reeling as he attempted to make sense of things. Frantic typing and barking of orders to someone else in the room with Drag punctuated their conversation, before Drag had managed to set a rendezvous point, abruptly hanging up on his client.

"Galloping.....Please proceed to the agreed upon coordinates." A message from the Galaxy Police. It seemed Drag had acted quickly.

"Acknowledged."


It had been barely 15 minutes since the Glorious Galloping had descended from from space, docking at a nearby asteroid, a well known—but somewhat out of the way—refueling station. Had the Nevadian not been so graciously escorted by one of the ships that had previously blocked his route, he would have half seriously considered skipping the place entirely.

But, that was out of the question now, and would only cause more problems for him than he needed.

It was an older Nevadian outpost. Held would have surmised it to be abandoned, had the telltale glow of light, and the slight bustling of figures became clearer as he had docked.

As he left his ship, headed to the agreed meeting spot, Held occasionally crossed paths with another life form, some weary and tired, some looking surprisingly upbeat in such a nondescript local. It was hardly what one would have considered ideal accommodations, the drab walls and matted floors showing just the age of the place, and just how used it was over the ages.

The artificial lighting wall dull, faint, flickering in odd spots, such much so as to actually interfere with the musings of less focused minds.

The Nevadian continued onward, a person here, and there, the trail of life getting more and more frequent as the Nevadian went deeper into the belly of the beast. Finally, he arrived at his destination, the heart of the outpost.

The Cantina.

Held paused at the door, breathing deeply. This was where things would get serious. It was supposedly an informal interview, but Held was no fool. Blockading his route in the middle of nowhere, with little warning...They likely flagged him the second he filed his flight plan.

It was clear that this was something that was taken seriously. Not that Held would have blamed them. The destruction of a planet was hardly the same as a speeding ticket, after all. Still, the fact that they didn't actually try to capture him was a plus.

If nothing else, it was clear that they really did only seek to question him. Probably aggressively.

The ruby red of the Shingan consumed the Nevadians eyes, allowing to see everything that lay before him. Ki of various colors, and shades and intensities were before him. Very few of them mattered. He was looking for a very specific signature, one he had encountered time and time.....

There we go!

A vibrant green ki sat at a table across from a faint purple energy. The green moved sharply, crisply. By contrast, the purple seemed slow, sluggish, almost disinterested.

Hmm? What's that?

Held had long mastered the Shingan and its ability to read the ki that permeated through all places and things. It had allowed him insight into things that truly were unseen, or had no energy that the Nevadian was able to sense.

Tables and chairs had no true signature so speak, but the life around them did, the and the ambient ki floating around them made it a simple task to make out various shapes.

It was this same habit that allowed the Nevadian to make out another shape, sitting with the two energy signatures he had noticed,giving off no energy of its own. It was clear enough to tell it was a female.

Probably some sort of android....Well, not that it matters.

Held looked on, silently, as he observed the three parties interact. What was the best way to approach them? To approach the situation? The Nevadian was experienced, sure. Police, lawyers, interviews...They were practically second nature to him.

But the intensity of the situation was not lost on him, the stakes a bit higher than anything he had played for before.

So lost was Held in thought over this, that he almost missed the fact that the being that gave of no energy had titled it's head in his direction, its body language expressing some sort of curiosity at the steel wall separating itself and the Nevadian.

Slowly, it rose to its feet,walking towards the wall in smooth, seamless motions, walking closer and closer to the wall, until that was all that kept itself and the Nevadian from touching one another.

...Huh? Can she see me too?

He tilted his head slightly, and she followed, not even a second later. His hand shot up towards the sky, and hers did as well, in less less than a millisecond.

The spun, the movement a graceful pirouette that was truly beautiful to behold. The Nevadian looked before him, and she was nowhere to be seen.

“Hah!” He exclaimed to no one in particular, his voice drowning out the slight chime that indicated the opening of the door,next to him.

“....You are late. Is this some ritual I am unaware of?” a feminine voice inquired, the monotone expression one that Held had experienced not so long ago. “Or...Were you working on your heroic pose?”

“Eh?” The Nevadian turned to his left as the Shingan left him, his eyes meeting with almost translucent green eyes that held no light within. They regarded him with apathy, seeing him with the same level of appreciation as he would a bottle of ketchup.

“...I...Err....” The worlds failed him.

“Posing....Is important.” she continued, nodding her head in understanding, “But....So is this.”

“...Uhh. Yeah. Sorry.” Held said, his tone one of embarrassment, “I just felt the...hum of energy in this place, and it just took me.”

The girl slowly smiled, her eyes showing no warmth as she did. Held found the entire thing somewhat unnerving, although he did his best to hide it.

“Understood.”

She held the door open, gesturing to the Nevadian.

“After....You.”