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

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

When Nergal appeared, Ishtar knew at once she had made perhaps, a fatal miscalculation.

While it was true that she had finally rediscovered that state long hidden, and for the moment held control of the state that had allowed her to tear Ilargi to pieces; and it offered power far in excess of what she had been capable of even then ... it would not be nearly enough. For even as strong as she was now, her hidden Hakai bolstering her -- if only slightly, unbeknownst to her -- Nergal, the Fallen, still far outstripped her ... and unlike before, when his mood had yet to sour, there was little she could do now. And from the smile he gave her when they locked eyes ... he knew full well the same.

There was one small silver-lining to this change however ... and it was the fact that the pain of searing flesh and boiling blood had dropped away in an instant, the wrath she used as a catalyst now long past its usefulness. Which meant that the avenues once closed, were now open to her once more ... So when his voice had brushed the edge of her consciousness, offering again those sickly sweet words of condescension ... she had not opted to respond to him directly.

Instead she had uttered three words.

"Spəntā Ārmaiti, Araska."

So when it was Nergal took her face and used it to shatter the moon below, the pain was ... slightly more manageable, and in her suffering she might find the means to slowly bolster her strength. Yet it was obvious now, for her, and Nergal, and any else who happened by, that the golden-eyed Oni was at the mercy of her fallen kin ... an advantage the slate-grey Oni was loath to give up now that he had his quarry.

So before Ishtar could do anything more than prepare herself for the next attack ... Nergal released his grip long enough to charge his fist, and strike the blow to Ishtar's midsection that had been blocked not five minutes before.

Cleric Beast - Bloodborne OST

'Eradicator's Fist.'

The blow struck true -- Ishtar too slow to properly defend -- and blue-black blood spewed from the Oni's mouth only to hang suspended in the vacuum of space.Yet through the haze of pain that settled in, Ishtar did her best to hold onto as much sense as possible so she could begin her count. For each blow struck, was a tally to add ... and when the time came she would -- with hope -- return what was offered, with change.

... One.

Well now in the throes of his conquest however, Nergal did not seem to care. So as the count struck one, the slate-grey Oni reared back ... and with yet another blow broke several of Ishtar's ribs, before casually grabbing her and tossing her through the shards of ice from the now split Moon ...

T ... T-two ...

Though it was clear now too, that even with the ease at which he now toyed with Ishtar: Nergal was holding back.

A fact that had him smiling. After all, he knew he could end it whenever he wished, his blue-skinned cousin's tricks -- troublesome as they might have been -- meant little now. Yet the goal he had set for himself, ourselves, yourself, us ... to make the glowing-horn Oni suffer ... was one he wished to make good on. So as Ishtar crashed through the rubble of the broken Moon he drifted lazily after. There were many ways he knew to harm, from the souls he had absorbed from the Cleansing Machine ... and they were proving themselves useful now.

Flay her slow, came one whispered voice, as Nergal appeared and struck his cousin again, blue-black blood spewing from her mouth as her jawbone cracked, and hurled her through more shards of moon. No, grind her bones to powder ! Echoed another, as the broken-horn Oni grabbed hold of Ishtar, and buried her face first in the shard she had impacted not a moment before ... all while Ishtar kept count, if barely.

... th ... ree .. four ...

And while some of the others threw their lot in with those options, there yet came other suggestions. So he took a moment, to consider them.

Ways of maiming and crippling, or of puncture wounds that bled her slow, allowing her the time to panic and beg. Or of whisperings of a slower sort of torture ... of forcing the information he sought out of her, and allowing her to live long enough to see him eradicate all she held dear ... perhaps even watching as he consumed her friends ... a thing the mass of souls latched onto quickly, foodfoodfoodfoodFOOD !

Yet despite the noise, Nergal found himself quite jovial ... and contrary to his typical, he simply chuckled -- without sound in the black of space -- as he closed in. Though thanks to his musings, Ishtar had time to at least prepare for the next blow, her hands reaching out quickly to latch onto her shard of the frozen moon.

"... Spəntā ... Ārmaiti."

Unlike the first few blows however, which had been purely physical; this one was ... different ... and Ishtar realized too late -- much to Nergal's pleasure -- what he had offered.

A small orb of black energy drifted down in front of her, and a moment later a silent explosion swallowed up the golden-eyed Oni and what bits of moon had obscured her from view.

Black Antimatter.

And while there was no sound in the vacuum of space, Nergal was almost positive ... no, he ... they were positive; that he heard his blue-skinned cousin cry out in pain ... and what music it was, to their ears. Yet the music was not enough ... he, they would hear her beg ... though that would not work, in vacuum. So as Ishtar struggled to remember her count, ... f ... ive.; Nergal appeared beside her casually, and with a hand clamped down upon her forearm, -- with force enough to splinter bone ... six -- the slate-grey Oni pulled his cousin close.

'Tell me where you wish to die, so I might hear you beg there.'

Ishtar's vision flickered, as she stared up at her fallen cousin then, pain's whispering compelling and soft ... to simply close her eyes and let him finish. Yet the count was high enough to perhaps respond ... and his question at least offered a small chance of survival. To say nothing of why she had refused at first, and chosen this pathway of pain: Sarada. She was far, and further from her love that much was true ... and yet the link they shared meant the Saiyan felt this. The pain, the fear ... considerations of surrender. To have her suffer -- and perhaps experience the pain of dying -- for no reason, and to damn her to that same fate ? ... As easy as it might be for Ishtar to die, and return home to Otherworld; she could not force one she cared for to suffer such a thing twice.

So she would have to try ...

So as Nergal asked his question again, the grip on her now broken arm tightening ... Ishtar struggled to think, and locate a suitable place for her final gambit ... and through coincidence, or some twisted act of her aunt, Fate ... there was a planet not far from 'here', where such might be managed with relative safety. So she reached out on her own, and offered a soft response, along with coordinates.

'Tatenen ... cousin. I wish to die on ... Tatenen.'

Nergal grinned. 'So be it, o' cousin mine.

(continued below)

[Tami]

He nods and waits for her.

He’ll let Eva deal with the Voidling.

Excusing herself, knowing that this situation was in good hands, Meagan left CC and took off for the Lookout. Once there, she sought out Dash and Cyanna [after Cyanna finished her adventure with Charco, before Dash joins Zaofan].

OOC: Doing a cliff notes version, too tired to do a detailed post

IC: Finding them, Meagan explained the situation. Dash asked if she and Cyanna needed to return with her. Meagan replied that it wasn't necessary. They then discussed the near future.

Meagan told Dash that she still wanted her to do her year's training on Earth, without assistance from Meagan or from their Master the Mirrror Mage. She told Dash that she could keep her key tot eh temple, but not to use it unless summoned or unless it was an emergency. That she was to use the time to get to know herself better. To learn how it train, to find those who can help her but to do it on her own. To use the time to travel and explore, to learn and to improve herself. To make friends and allies.

As for Cyanna, Meagan allowed Cyanna to stay on Earth for a short time. If Cyanna can get herself apprenticed to someone here, she can stay, if not, she was to return home to Chroma and study there. She has one week, and during that time she can not interfere with Dash's training. Cyanna tells Meagan, much to Dash's surprise, that she wants to learn magic. That she wants to try to get Etrine to be her mentor, in exchange for something.

Meagan doubted Etrina would agree to it, but allowed Cyanna the chance to try.

After spending the rest of the day saying good by, packing her belongings, and dealing with other issues, Meagan returned to CC to see if Jinzi was ready to go with her to Chroma.

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

Dragging her along behind, the slate-grey Oni vanished ... and in no time at all, the two found themselves upon the planet's ruined surface. Releasing the blue-skinned Oni then, Nergal took several steps away and looked around*.

A dismal place, the land was a ruination of large spires of jagged stone raised up in the distance, plumes of smoke spiraling lazily up into the sky from rivers of lava, and smoldering ash ... and in seeing this, Nergal sneered.

"What a wretched place to die. Is this really your choice, o' cousin mine ?"

Ishtar struggled to her feet, with leaden lungs, and screaming muscles ... every inch of her burning, bleeding, or wishing this day to reach conclusion; though she found the strength to stand ... and nod.

"It ... is a world I ... ruined, years ago ... a fitting bed to lie in ... yes ?"

The slate-grey Oni turned, and eyed his cousin curiously ... the voices in his head continuing their warring over how best to make her kneel. "I ... see." Though as he stared, that Hissing Soul, the one from before ... ended up winning the 'lottery'.

'... one arm isss useless ... take the other ... and with it goesss her ... hope.' And again, Nergal found himself unable to argue.

Stepping forward, he disappeared from Ishtar's vision -- by her own failing eyesight, or his own machinations she knew not -- and when he reappeared, he grabbed hold of Ishtar's prosthetic arm, and with a word blasted it from her body.

"Path of Destruction."

And in Nergal's mind ... this was the final nail in Ishtar's coffin. Her body a tapestry of broken bones and bloodied flesh, struggling so hard to simply remain upright ... there was no inkling in his mind that she had the might now to resist him ... yet as the count reached seven, the damage she had suffered had given birth to the strength to act, and resist -- if only briefly -- all she needed now was an opening ... though given how close she was now to slipping away; it would be her last.

Thankfully it seemed, however ... her slate-grey cousin was distracted by something ... a ... conversation with himself ?

"No ... not that, not that, not that ..." The Oni muttered as he stared. "It is to good an end for her ... what of ... yes, yes. Yes. For services ... rendered ..." The broken-horn Oni trailed off, chittering. And like Aeliana before her, Ishtar realized then her cousin was not well. A thing that she might work with ... though she needed to move swiftly.

"O' cousin mine ..." She started low, "I wish to tell you ... something."

And so they, turned and appraised the woman, before offering her sinister smile. "Good"

Ishtar smiled, a feat given her state, and through bloody teeth offered a chuckle. "You will ... fail."

Nergal's smile fell away in an instant, and with a snarl struck Ishtar hard enough that she should have been sent tumbling ... and yet she didn't. ... Eight. The glowing-horn Oni continued to smile then, and with a weak chuckle, she continued. "See ? ... your strength falters ... like so many before you."

A thing Nergal -- and the Host -- did not wish to hear.

"Falters ? FALTERS ?!." The Oni-turned-God wailed, as he struck his cousin again, and again. ... nine ... ten ... eleven.

"WE HAVE NOT. NOR WILL YOU SUCCEED WHERE THAT BITCH GELIA, FAILED." He, they, raged. Yet all at once the screaming -- and seemingly the rage it accompanied -- was silenced all at once. The slate-grey Oni smirked, before raising a finger. "Ah ... we see. I see ... you mean to trick us yet again."

Nergal stepped forward, and wrapped his hand around Ishtar's throat, before lifting her from the ground. "It will not work, o' cousin mine." The sky -- already dark as is was -- seemed to darken then, as they confrontation entered its final stage. It was now Ishtar would have her chance ... and should she miss, it would be the end of her ... though not just her, Sarada would fall, as would her world ... and then the Universe would suffer as Nergal returned to his former glory. So she remained silent, and instead focused hard on the reforging of her arm ... it had been splintered, and scattered yes ... but she could make it whole.

"We will not fall for your tricks, nor suffer the same ... end, as we did to Gelia." The slate-grey Oni purred, his mind clearly now no longer his own, as the countless souls inside him smothered his weakened own. "You put up your fight, little Oni ... proved your point ... made God bleed ... but no one will know of it ... we are so thirsty now, and we will keep our promise, yes ?"

Ishtar's eyes met Nergal's own, and she did what she could to respond ... "Ye ... s."

And with a look of triumph, Nergal smiled. "GoodgoodgoodgoodGOOD. So then, child .. for services rendered. The End.."

And for Ishtar, in that moment as the final syllable was offered; the world seemed to slow, and with it time and her own heartbeat ... yet unlike all those who had fallen before her, she did not meet her end. Nergal's eyes widened in surprise, yet his grip remained firm.

"The End."

Yet again ... the golden-eyed Oni's soul rebelled, resisted. How ? And so he tried again ... and again. And again. HowhowhowhowHOW ?! Yet no matter how many times they tried, they could not take her soul. And now, the bitch ... the whore ... Gelia ... was smiling.

"My ... soul is not yours to take ... dear cousin."

And as impossible as it seemed to them, then, they felt a fist impact their chest and Ishtar's voice ringing in their ears.

"Ahûm-Jaidhi."

Blood welled up in Nergal's mouth ... a feeling they ... he ... had never experienced, and all at once Ishtar dropped to her knees. Her blow had struck true in the decisive moment, and though he did not die outright ... he would succumb to his wound.

"Wh- hrk ... this pain ... how ?"

Slow to her feet, the golden-eyed Oni stared at her cousin a moment before slowly staggering forward, broken arm dangling limply.

"I have ... tasted pain, more than you could ever know ... Nergal." Ishtar said softly, memories of love, and loss, and of the times she'd fallen before now flashing through her mind in an instant.

"All you suffered ... was a blow to pride ... and like the child you .. used to be, you never learned ..." Yet it seemed by now, that Nergal had stopped listening.

Lifeblood spilling from the ragged hole in their chest, the slate-grey Oni found themselves at war to scrape together the strength -- and will -- to fight through the pain. Yet it hurt so much, somuchsomuchsomuch ... and unlike their ... his, cousin. They did not have the strength to resist its pull.

And in this, Ishtar pitied him ... Tatenen had not been selected at random, after all ... it was the world where she had experienced true pain, the first time. Had given in, much like Nergal was now; and had suffered its consequences.

It was a reminder of what would happen, should she have fallen, here.

Silent now, save for Ishtar's breathing and Nergal's ragged, dying gasps, the glowing-horn Oni slowly summoned her Katchin Blade, and stopped just short of her fallen kin; and remaining silent still a time, she eventually offered the slate-grey Oni a final word.

"I gave some thought, just now ... to simply sealing you a Universe away ... and get Gelia ... made that mistake before ...

I will not."

The Katchin Blade's edge was turned toward Nergal, a prelude of what was coming.

"Though ... will at least offer you ... a parting gift." Ishtar continued, the weapon held in her remaining arm glinting -- almost hungrily -- in the dying Tatenen sun.

"The name of your executioner ... which is, Rasãstâtô."

In the ancient lessons learned to Ishtar, it was the name of the spirit of Equity ... Justice. A fitting name, if predictable, for a weapon that had been used by her -- and others -- time and again to maintain the balance of peace, and mete out justice.

Yet focused on what was swiftly approaching, Nergal seemed not to notice. Instead, the former Oni simply stared up at his cousin in a moment of final clarity, and offered his epitaph:

"I do not wish to di-"

Ishtar flicked her wrist, before Nergal could finish however, and silenced reigned.

Yet it was not enough to simply kill him ... Nergal was strong, too strong perhaps to be held back my mortal death ... and so as Rasãstâtô was pulled back, Ishtar offered him, them ... Nergal, a final eulogy.

"Goodbye, cousin. Hakai." There was a flash of black that e enveloped Nergal, then ... and then there was nothing.

---

Blissful Death - NieR: Automata

Finished now, and power fading quickly, Ishtar staggered away from the vanishing remnants of her fallen cousin, then. And as had happened a year ago, the Oni slowly ground to a halt, and fell to her knees; though this time Ishtar -- battered, broken -- was far to weak to even prop herself up.

Though with so much damage suffered in so short a time -- yet another grave miscalculation -- it came as little surprise however ... and in many ways, it was fitting.

So before the black of unconsciousness overtook her then, and as her strength fizzled away to nothingness, she did what she could to offer Sarada an explanation.

I am sorry ... I cannot be there, Little Love ... Nergal returned ... and I finished what Gelia started ... on Tatenen, of all places ... Breathing slowed down to barely at all, the golden-eyed Oni then did her utmost to offer one last promise.

I am tired now ... will rest my eyes and limbs awhile ... though I hope to see you soon. And with that offered, Ishtar knew no more.

[MrSandman]

Napkin on knee and casually taking a bite out of a croissant, Zaofan smiles while taking hold of his orange juice. "Oh ho ho, that begs the question -- what did your Mom do for your birthday? What do you have planned for Erosa?"

He takes a quick sip of juice before grabbing some jam. "That Erosa, let me tell you. Your sister's saved my butt more than once. But it's hard to believe that she's just a year old! I mean, she feels like a kid sister, sure, but one year old?"

He puts his elbows on the table with a big smile and imitates an old man's gravely voice. "Why, when I was HER age...!" he says with a laugh.

Zaofan takes another sip and leans back on his chair. This... Is nice. Between wolf gods and alien conquerers and alternate universes and toilet demons, to be finally able to just sit and relax with Etrina almost makes him forget about the unique lives they lead. Of course, he's having breakfast after sparring with a fighter from another planet, sitting g across from a world class mage with a one year old id that's the size of a fully adult woman in God's kitchen on a floating palace tens of thousands of feet up in the sky. Zaofan is content.

"Her rate of maturity is a testament to how much we've improved as a whole. Familiars grow over time....but its can't be coincidence that shes matured this quickly. There is also the Magicite fragment and that.....even more mature form....." Etrina let out a sigh. "At this rate my own familiar will out grow me."

"As for her birthday.....well......good food in oversized quantities would be the sure bet, its been awhile since we made that Dusk Stew......But......I want to....." Etrina strummed her fingers. "....My mother was a writer you see. Every birthday I had when I was young, she would highlight it with a storytelling. I don't think I could have such a way with words but....maybe I'll give it a try." Etrina chuckled. "....maybe with one that's already written though. I'm not that good."

[bruceleegreyhulk]

before The Time Skip

Lieutenant Stratovarius arrives on earth and lands in front of Capsule Corp saying " Okay so this is Capsule Corp huh." he then manifests his specter Shining Star saying " Shining Star move that frozen alien were taking inside Capsule Corp. " Shining Star replies to this in an meek and mild tone " right I'll grab the frozen body." Lieutenant Stratovarius looks at his specter saying " don't say it like that Shining Star."

" you will need to speak up and insert yourself better." " Shining Star replies to this in meek tone saying " I'll try Earl." Lieutenant Stratovarius opens up the hanger of his GP Cruiser and enters Capsule Corp with this Specter following behind him carrying the frozen Toadian in on it's right shoulder. once inside Lieutenant Stratovarius shows his Galaxy police badge saying " I Am Lieutenant Earl Winton Amper Firmin Stratovarius of the Galaxy Police!"

"I came here to seek aid to undoing a Crystallization process that was done on this frozen Frog alien that my buddy behind me is holding." " I found the alien like this on dead planet buried in sand." " I don't know how it got there but I am sure the frozen alien then originate from that planet." "the crystallize structure it is in is 2,000 years old."


"so I guess that someone or someone thing imprison this frog alien in this crystallize structure 2,000 years ago." " the frog alien inside is still alive and I wish to free it." " so I will be need the aid of capable scientists here at Capsule Corp."

Lieutenant Stratovarius is walking around Capsule Corp and runs into Jinzi saying " you there do you work here?" " if so I want you aid in undoing the process of that crystalized Frozen Alien that my buddy behind me is carrying." Lieutenant Stratovarius is in his Galaxy Police uniform. there's a single silver stripe on each shoulder of his uniform which indicates his rank as an lieutenant.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Lieutenant Stratovarius is walking around Capsule Corp and runs into Jinzi saying " you there do you work here?" " if so I want you aid in undoing the process of that crystalized Frozen Alien that my buddy behind me is carrying." Lieutenant Stratovarius is in his Galaxy Police uniform. there's a single silver stripe on each shoulder of his uniform which indicates his rank as an lieutenant.

Jinzi quirks an eyebrow.

“I own this place, Lieutenant. I’m Jinzi Pantaloon. You wish my assistance then?”

[Tami]

Shortly behind Balon and armed with his staff Bojack, Zaofan whacks the vines, branches, and leaves away from the path, left, right, and above. He is shirtless though his tunic is wrapped around his head to soak up moisture. His pants are long, thin, and dirty. He breathes heavily and he winks through one eye thanks to the heat and frustration. "Nothing is ever easy with these schools, I swear. But I guess that defeats the point of the struggle then, eh Master Balon? We should be on our guard for anything, though. If there's some sort of force that can prevent us from flying, who knows what out abilities of ours may be tampered with!"

He takes a sip of water from his canteen. "Remember to stay hydrated, everyone! And I've more bug repellent if needed! It's good for any leeches we may find!"

At the invitation of Zaofan, Dash joins the expedition as part of her training. She is dressed appropriately for the trip, with needed supplies carried in the pouches at her waist.

She follows behind Zaofan and Balon, keeping up with them and focusing on avoiding the hazards of the terrain.

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

Not soon after Ishtar had fallen unconscious, eleven figures approached the unconscious, blue-skinned supplicant -- on her knees as she was -- and considered what to do.

After all, they knew at once who she was, responsible for their birth as she was, and the power she had unleashed a second time ... but in her given state her life would not persist much longer. A thing some shared no opinion on, their minds for now unmade. Though two at least, the Youngest and one-other ... believed it was nothing more than a chance to at last have their reckoning.

Yet there was a single soul, a crystalline creature who loomed over the soon-to-be corpse, and believed that this was perhaps, not coincidence. So with a word in a language none knew, she cowed the others to compliance.

<She will not die here. Not yet, I should think.>

And while many protested, they knew the strength of their sister and dare not challenge.

<Take her and ensure she recovers.> The Archon bade them, then. <And when she wakes we shall see what she has to say. Then perhaps, you will have your reckoning.>

With that decided, the Archons were quick to disperse, with the Archons of Uisce and Adhmad carried the unconscious Ishtar off, while the others went their separate ways for now.

Though as the Archon of Criostalach returned to her Crystalline Throneroom, it could not help but wonder at why the Oni had returned.

[KingofPie]

"Horrific attacks on the Saiyan Colo-"

"Despite their history, the Saiyans don't deser-"

"In my opinion, this has been a long time co-"

"Galaxy Police and Chroma forces have rushed in to provide rei-"

Blizzar flipped through various intergalactic new stations and radio channels on his datapad, each one reporting on the same breaking news just now hitting the galaxy. The Heinous attacks on the Saiyan Homeworlds by Tuffle forces. A race the Saiyans themselves had driven into obscurity. Forgotten by the majority of the universe while the Saiyans slowly had begun to rise in prominence. To try a chance at redemption and improve the opinion of their race among the Galactic community under a new ruler. Only now did the Tuffles resurface, just as bitter and vile as the Saiyans once were to them.

Blizzar sighed. This entire situation was...ill timed, considering recent events. Had he known the attacks would occur so soon. Blizzar walked into the Lookout's kitchen, seeking some tea to help him think. He doubted those present would mind much. This had become a delicate situation, for him specifically. He may have to contact him sooner than anticipated. "Methinks the puppeteer needs to reign in his toys..." he muttered to himself, beginning to boil some water.

[MrSandman]

Jinzi shake shis Head, but Eva seems intrigued.

“Training is one thing, what about information? Who exactly wants us dead and how many are they?”

"To understand...I must explain the how things currently are beyond the veil. But words are often difficult....so I'll show you."

The ones who still remained felt Cthylla presence touch their minds, and with it came an image, less intence then jinzis but still as clear as if it had been in front of them.

A perfect sphere, containing millions of stars...and the inky blackness that lay beyond it.

"100,000 birth cycles ago....the segment of the void containing your sphere and several others were sealed by the first creator. An segment of the infinite void winds contained, a sphere within a sphere....or so I'd imagine it. I've not seen then edge, only heard upon the void winds. But that is unimportant......"

"When the void was closed.....it sealed many of the fledgling broods, and over time they have congregated just beyond the veils of your spheres. R'lyeh, my brood, is one such....we observer your sphere, and your ways, but ours is not to interfere...especially since the slumber is upon our Broodfather." Cthylla pauses, allowing those gathered a moment to process.

"....there are two others broods of size.....Yahar'gul, Brood of Shub-Niggurath....and Carcosa, Brood of Hastur. Both are varying degrees less...passive then us. Creation does not always gather to it those who see it as a curiosity, but by its nature we are unable to meddle with those inside on any larger a scale then what I am doing now."

Three separate masses appeared on the outside of the sphere, clouds of small "things" barely visible compared to the orb.

"But....something has riled the brood. Yahar'gul spread across the void winds that their Broodfather has awakened from the slumber with the word of Azathoth, who has spoken that the works of the first creator must be ended so the void can return to its former state. Carcosa has fallen silent.....and great Father Cthulhu has not awoken to offer us his guidance. The brood is fragmented on what can be done......So I have come here."

The image vanished from their mind. "Out kind cannot kill another....we have not the capacity. But you are not limited in that. If you can cease Yahar'guls Broodfather....they're goal will disperse to the voidwinds unfinished."

[bruceleegreyhulk]

Jinzi quirks an eyebrow.

“I own this place, Lieutenant. I’m Jinzi Pantaloon. You wish my assistance then?”

Lieutenant Stratovarius replies to this saying " since you own this place I figure that you the CEO as well." " I wish your assistance on undoing this crystallization of this frog alien that my buddy behind me is holding. " " Shining Star don't be shy come out and introduced yourself ." " Shining Star comes out from behind Lieutenant Stratovarius holding a mysterious Toadian inside a Crystalize structure saying in a Meek tone " Hi I am Shining Star Lieutenant Stratovarius's specter or basically an extension of his fighting spirit .

Shining Star's entire body looks like it's made up of energy that glows bluish white and it seems to be in the form of an fragile pre teen boy. Praxat who is on her way to the employment office runs into Jinzi , Lieutenant Stratovarius and Shining Star and then stops in her tracks when she sees the frozen Toadian saying as her skin turns red " wait is that who I think it is? " that platinum color skin, those golden spots and Silver eyes . " " that ancient Toadian royal attire."


" that's Althena Orpheus the worst Queen in the History of the Toadian Kingdom!" " the Queen who abandoned the Toadian Kingdom 2000 years ago according to Historical documents on Qacriea! " Lieutenant Stratovarius replies to this as he looks at Praxat saying " hmm so the frog alien imprison in this crystalize structure is name Althena." " Historical documents don't always tell what exactly happen in the past ."

" especially if it's written to only show one side of a event that happen in the past , but there are always two sides to every story." " did this Althena really Abandon your people 2000 years ago? " " free this Althena can revile the whole truth of what really happen on your home planet 2000 years ago." " as she will be able to tell her side of the story."

Lieutenant Stratovarius looks back at Jinzi saying " I found this frozen frog alien who I now know is a Toadian on a dead planet in the North Galaxy buried under sand." " I have theorize that someone or something imprison this Toadian in this Crystalize structure 2,000 years ago and sent it to a dead planet in the North Galaxy. " " I want to discover what happen." Praxat replies to this sayin " well I for one I'm not going to lend you any aid , that Toadian can stay frozen. she's an disgrace to the Kingdom!"

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Helpless.

Pain.

Hopeless.

Regret.

Those were the main feelings Sarada had been receiving from Ishtar on a constant basis since they went their separate ways several days ago. Her Oni love was in deep peril, and there wasn't a damned thing she could do about it except attempt to send her positive, encouraging emotions. It was easier the last time; this time, there wasn't much optimism to be found, and she found herself in need of encouragement.

Her Empire was under attack. She had just sent an army of forty thousand super elite Saiyans to Ruco to help fend off an incursion that had been detected just moments earlier. So far, it was just in a nick of time.

The urge to go there and help was strong. Unless she was mistaken, Avoca was on Ruco. If she lost her... she was fine. Avoca had gotten really strong, up to 10,000 and only going up. She had taken well to the knew training methods Sarada had been pushing along with Mato and Tasure. Avoca was strong, she was okay.

Ishtar was even stronger, and was a goddess to be. There was no way she was going to die. Sarada wasn't going to allow it. Each day that passed, Sarada kept reminding her that she wasn't allowed to die. She was going to overcome this trial, and return to Vocado so she could choke her for almost getting herself killed then hold her and never let go. Ishtar belonged to Sarada and no one else. If anyone had an issue with that – like this Nergal douche or whatever the hell was going on on that Tatenen place, then they could schedule a meeting with Sarada at her earliest possible convenience and they could all talk it over.

And by talk it over, she meant she could and would kick their ass and make them kiss hers. No one was going to take what belonged to her.

That was two worries settled. The third, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LOST CONTACT?! WHEN?!!!”

Sarada had never heard Maiz raise her voice before. She always spoke softly, in the same even-keeled tone. The indication of her emotional state was how she spoke, not how loudly. To hear her screaming, even from her bedroom – which was at least a minute long walk from the meeting room – was... as disconcerting as it was frightening.

As she hurried through the halls in an effort to see what was happening, she had to weave around the palace servants and other random people who decided to stand and listen rather than do their jobs. “What's going on?”

She found Maiz pinning a man to the wall by his shirt. Her posture was stiff, tense. Furious. When she circled around to stand beside them, she found her care-nurse's eyes wide with barely restrained fury.

“I...I...”

“TALK!!!”

“She hasn't reported in. We assumed something must have happened to her communicator, or that they killed outbound communications,” he explained, his voice trembling when Sarada stepped up to them.

He couldn't have been talking about Parsley. That was simply impossible, because anyone who valued their li̶f̶e̶ job would have reported this to her immediately. Or, if she was indisposed, reported it to Maiz. “You're not talking about Parsley, are you?” When the man glanced at her, then looked away, she snarled and ripped him out of Maiz's grip by the throat, then embedded him nearly a foot into the wall. “How long?” she asked, voice scarily calm.

He seemed reluctant to answer, which resulted in her clamping down on his throat like a vice. “Th-three days.”

Her first inclination was to snap his neck like a twig, and she very nearly did if a strong hand hadn't touched her shoulder. It was Mato.

Sarada let him drop to the floor and walked away, toward the docks. “Gather our strongest fighters and tell them to meet me at the docks.”

“Wait a second,” Mato called after her. “You can't go over there.”

“And why not?!” she shouted, whirling around to level a fierce glare at him. “My sister is behind enemy lines and hasn't reported in in three days. Who knows what they've done to her.”

“Yes. And because she was nearly as strong as you, what possibly happened to her could happen to you.”

What he said made perfect sense, but she wasn't trying to listen to sense and reason. “I don't care. I'm going.”

“What will happen to our fledgling empire if its Queen dies?”

The question echoed what Ochazuke asked her days ago. She told him then that the people would lose trust in her, yet that was because she would have died trotting around on foreign worlds with aliens. In this case, they would have been left vulnerable to a very real threat. Even if Mato or Maiz would have been better rulers than her, they weren't anywhere close to as strong as her. Without her or Parsley, the only ones left to protect all six worlds would be Totoma and Tasure. Also, Ishtar, whenever she got back.

Sarada sighed and slowed to a stop. “Gather a squad and send them to Turrip. Tell them to bring back Parsley and the other Saiyans. No one stands in their way.” Civilian or soldier, they didn't have time to differentiate between the two. Every second that ticked by was a second that one of theirs could have been pushed closer to death.

“Understood.”

As Mato walked away, she and Maiz remained where they stood.

Silence filled the air between them; more tense than unoccupied, and it wasn't because of Parsley's possible capture.

In the end, it was the elder who spoke first. “Where have you been?” As usual, her voice was level, yet there was nothing calm about it. “We could potentially be at war, with five Saiyans in very hostile territory and you're hiding in your room. Why?”

Sarada sighed and tilted her head down. “Ishtar was dying. She was dying and there was nothing I could do. I couldn't handle it.”

Maiz's silence was more telling than anything she could have said.

“And now, she stuck on some world hundreds of light years away, fighting for her life. I can feel the hopelessness and the pain she's feeling.” She breathed in deeply to keep from weeping. Everything seemed to be dumping itself on her shoulders and she couldn't handle it. So, when Maiz wrapped her arm around her shoulders, she didn't push her away, but melted into her loving embrace. “Why can't everything just go the way it's supposed to?”

“If life didn't have adversity, we'd get complacent. Complacency leads to weakness. Weakness leads to death, not just for you, but for all of us.” She sighed. “Character is forged in fire. When your life is at its worst, you grow to find your best. If you're the woman I think you are, you'll come out of this stronger. No matter what.”

Sarada glanced at her and could see her eyes glistening with restrained tears. Our race has become so soft. Or, perhaps, this was how they always were, and the hardened, emotionless warriors that they were perceived as was just as act perpetrated by a power-hungry tyrant. “Fire, huh? Well, it feels like someone tossed my whole ass into an inferno.”

“Good. Then when this is all over and you're still standing, your character, your will, will be unshakable.”

Unshakable will, the ability to stand in the face of any trial and refuse to blink. Sarada thought she had it, but this showed her that she had a very long way to go.

Ten Super Elites departed for Turrip. It would take their ship three days to arrive. Three days that Sarada would have to wait for some kind of news one way or the other. In the meantime, she did what she had fought and scratched and clawed her way to earn the right to do. The responsibilities of a Queen were many; more than enough to keep her busy and occupied. Just because five of hers were on any enemy world, trapped and possibly captured didn't mean she could just neglect her duties and her Empire. Her people – those that were still free and alive – were depending on her.

As such, she worked.

Policies needed to the fleshed out and discussed. Decrees needed to be signed into law. And she needed to decided how she was going to smooth over the anger that was already swelling up at the elimination of Turrip's population.

She needed to make a statement.

A day after the team was sent out, she spoke in front of reporters on the balcony of the Palace. “My fellow Saiyans, no doubt you have already heard that five days ago, the planet Turrip was suddenly attacked by a small army of Tuffles. When the attack was done, there were only four Saiyans left. We have sent a team to liberate these people. While this is a potentially turbulent time, I ask that you remain calm and let us do our work. The last thing we or those people trapped on Turrip need are vigilantes taking matters into their own hands.”

She spent the next fifteen minutes answering questions from reporters. When that was done, she returned inside. “That will never be easy, will it?”

“No,” Mato answered with a smile. “But, short and to the point is the way to go.”

She nodded. “Now what?”

“Now, we do our jobs and wait.”

Waiting was the hardest part.

Sarada buried herself in her work. She paid close attention during the plethora of meetings she had on the agenda each and every day. She took notes. She asked questions. She thought long and hard before answering questions given to her.

The days were easy.

Laying in bed alone each night was the hard part. The times when Ishtar would hold her close and let her decompress were the times she had looked forward to the most each day. Without that, the stress of her position was getting to her. Add on knowing that she was completely unable to do anything to help her during this... trial of hers and she was close to blowing up.

Everything was getting to her. Turrip. Ishtar. Parsley. Those five Saiyans. Those goddamned Tuffles. Her nerves were becoming unraveled.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

The team she sent to Turrip reported that the Tuffles had surrounded the planet in some kind of energy dome that made entry impossible. Their ship weapons weren't able to make it fluctuate, much less bring it down. And since the teleporter node had been destroyed when The Focal Point was blown to hell, there was no way past it.

She told them to hang tight. She was going to send a fleet of their more powerful ships, equipped with more powerful weapons. They were slower, though, so it was going to take them a week to reach Turrip.

A week. It had been a week already. Seven days since Parsley last checked in, and nothing. Now, she had to wait another week for another attempt at getting past the planetary shield. An attempt. There was no guarantee the heavy armada was even going to be able to bust through. If they failed...

“If the heavy armada is stone-walled, I'm going,” she told Maiz. It had been nine days since Parsley last checked in. Nine days since they last knew of her well-being. Nine days since they last knew she was alive.

She didn't even know why she cared so much. She hated her sister, and her sister hated her.

Right?

“You may not have a choice in that case,” Maiz responded.

“It's just... the wait is killing me. I hate doing nothing but sitting around and waiting for someone to report in.”

Maiz hummed in agreement, but didn't verbalize it until several seconds later. “We don't know the circumstances. She could have been captured. That energy barrier around the planet could be killing outbound communications. Her communicator could have gotten destroyed in a fight. We don't know, and that's the worst part.”

She was right. Not knowing and not being able to find out right away was killing her. This would be easier if Ishtar was here. We could just teleport over there and kick ass.

There was nothing to do but wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And work.

And worry.

And fret.

And let the stress build up inside her until it was close to a broiling froth in her chest. Her head hurt constantly. Her back was killing her. She couldn't sleep. To compensate during the day, she continuously slapping these patches on her neck to help her stay awake. The last patch would last well into the night, meaning she wouldn't fall asleep until the wee hours of the morning. It was a vicious cycle that she could in no way break out of. A vacation was well in order, but how could she leave for herself when her Empire was in the middle of a war.

Langal was under attack by another army of Tuffles, fifty thousand strong. Langal's own army was strong, but she sent ten thousand Vocadoan Saiyans to help out. Three out of six planets were involved in conflict after conflict. There was no possible way there were this many Tuffles left, especially since they only had the one planet to their name. Something was amiss.

“Ma'am, the armada sent to Turrip has reported in,” Pois stated as she walked onto the balcony Sarada was standing on. A stiff, but refreshing breeze rolled through. “They were close to breaking through, but warships from the Tuffle side are attacking them to keep them from breaking through completely.”

“Shit!” She gripped the balcony railing tightly enough that the stone cracked and broke apart. “I've had it. Prepare my ship.”

Her tone brooked no argument, and Pois didn't offer to test her already razor thin patience.

“Your Majesty, you'll also be happy to know that the Galaxy Police have come to our aid.” That stopped Sarada in her tracks. “They've offered medical assistance, shelter for those displaced, and are on their way to Turrip to help with that barrier. By the time you get there, they should have things squared away.”

She stared at Pois blankly for several moments, the dark bags under her eyes accentuating the lost look on her face. Then, suddenly, loud laughter erupted from her mouth. “AHAHAHA!!”

That... was all she had to say about that.

As she walked away toward the docks, it was Pois' turn to stare blankly.

The moment she boarded the ship, she ordered that all power that could possibly be spared be dumped into the thrusters. With the warp drive activated, it would only take a day to arrive at Turrip. That day was the longest of her entire life. Her heart was racing. Anxiety hit her heart in waves. It was almost crippling, but she swallowed it down and stayed focused on what she needed to do.

“When we arrive, let the GP worry about the Tuffles. Our only concern is the missing Saiyans. When we find them, transport them to Vocado immediately for medical attention.”

When they arrived hours later, they found utter chaos. The Tuffles, she learned, had been either killed, run off, or otherwise defeated on Langal and Ruco. Those two worlds were safe. Turrip was well on its way to being liberated, but they weren't going down without a fight. And they had strange weaponry, including bombs that could blow away entire cities in one blast. Nothing she couldn't accomplish herself, but that didn't mean she felt comfortable risking her life.

The Tuffles fought tooth and nail, and even though they were outnumbered, they still fought the Saiyans and GP to a standstill by using guerrilla tactics and their environment to their advantage. They had chemical weapons that seemed tailor made to killing Saiyans.

This was a war. All the grimy, dirty, filthy acts associated with battling with desperate insurgents made Sarada's skin crawl. These people wanted their planet back. Nothing more. The way they went about it forfeited any and all arguments they may have had otherwise, but that didn't dismiss their intentions.

“I want communication with their leader,” Sarada said. “Patch me through to their main base.”

Even while their soldiers waged war for the soul of a planet and the souls of five people, Sarada wanted to give the Tuffles the chance to end this peacefully. Both races had slaughtered millions of the other side. In a series of attack/counterattack dating back a decade, this war had gone on long enough. Enough lives had been taken.

“Our transmission was received, Your Majesty!”

Sarada sat down in her seat and waited for the transmission to patch through. A bespectacled woman with brown hair appeared on the screen in front of her. “This is Appel of the planet Bananan. With whom am I speak?”

The smirk on her face had Sarada's blood boiling. “Queen Sarada. I'm contacting you to negotiate the release of the five Saiyans trapped on your planet.”

Appel raised an eyebrow, as if this was the absolute first time she had been hearing of this. Sure enough, “Sorry. I don't know what Saiyans you're talking about.”

Sarada's jaw tightened like a vice, threatening to crack her teeth if she didn't relinquish the pressure. “There are five Saiyans still on that planet that need safe passage home. Will you ensure that safe passage?”

“Oh, are there?” She looked off screen, presumable to “confirm” this claim with someone else. All the while, that same self-satisfied, smarmy smirk was still on her face. “Yes. It's been brought to my attention now that there are four Saiyans on this world.”

“Five. My sister, Princess Parsley, is also there.” Unless, of course, one the originally missing Saiyans died in the meantime. “Ensure their safe passage and we won't take more drastic measures to liberate our planet.”

“Your planet? Unless I'm mistaken, this planet belonged to us first, and had been ours for hundreds of years. The only reason your people even lived here was because they built cities on our corpses!”

That was something Sarada couldn't argue. The planet belonged to the Tuffles first; that much was true. The Turripian Saiyans lived for a decade on the graves of those slain by their fellow Saiyans; that much was also true. Two facts that were neither wrong, nor disputable.

And yet, they held no bearing on the discussion at hand. The fate of this world would be discussed another time; her main and only focus was the safe return of her sister and those trapped on that planet. “That has no bearing on the negotiations at hand. Return the five Saiyans. You have three days to decide. Until then, we will cease fire, as a showing of good faith.”

“Good faith,” Appel spat. “What faith does a monkey have?! ...Fine. Three days.” With that, she ended the transmission abruptly.

As per her side of the agreement, Sarada ordered her forces to cease fire on the planet, and relayed a message to the GP to do the same. However, she had them remain on the planet, just in case the Tuffles tried anything.

'Compassion is not a weakness, nor it is a vulnerability.' Those words of Ochazuke's rang in her head through the days, as the ticked by one by one in expectation of an answer from the Tuffles. She told the martial master that each dealing with the victims of her race's tyranny would have to be discussed on a case by case basis. This case was the second, and she didn't know which way she wanted to lean. Part of her wanted to tell them to **** of f and find another place to live, yet, she knew that she couldn't do that.

Compassion would serve her better than strength. She supposed it took more strength to swallow her pride and listen to the complaints of even those who could commit such an atrocity like this without blinking. An atrocity that was committed to them. Taking blood for the vengeance of blood spilled didn't erase the scars of the past.

She didn't know how this was going to end, but she didn't care. As long as Parsley was returned safely.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Three days passed, yet no word from Appel.

No spoken word. An action spoke their intentions clearly. The Saiyans stationed on the planet were attacked, their ships bombed with missiles carrying some kind of chemical payload. This wasn't lethal, but it was just was costly.

“Whatever it was,” one of her men reported to her, “it caused their tails to shrivel and fall off.”

“What?!” Her mind was racing. How could they possibly have figured out how to create a chemical compound capable of removing a Saiyan's tail? Unless... they were experimenting on them. “Get me Appel. Now.”

“She isn't responding to our hails,” he answered moments later.

Sarada snarled and rose from her seat. “Tell them to open fire. Kill any Tuffle they see. Any drones should target where those missiles were fired and destroy the source. Clear a path to their base for me.”

Compassion had been tried. It had been ignored, or perhaps even abused. When being nice and understanding failed, force was the only solution left. If they wanted to play hardball, no one was played harder than Queen Sarada.

Her ship pierced the planet's atmosphere and immediately opened fire on the anti-aircraft weaponry that had been commandeered after the initial incursion. Down below, Saiyan and Galaxy Police battled the remainder of the Tuffle forces, pushing them back and overwhelming them with superior firepower. When Sarada's royal space cruiser became visible, it only served to further dishearten the rebel fighters.

What had been an impressive army just three weeks ago had been whittled and chipped down to a mere fraction of that. They were outnumbered, outmatched, and overwhelmed. In the end, the Tuffles did the only sensible thing and dropped their weapons.

“Your Majesty, they're not giving up Appel's location, but they did tell us where Ava and the other survivors are.”

She sighed, but nodded. “Pick them up and take them to Vocado. I'm not leaving with Parsley and Appel.” She sighed again and exited the ship, remaining high and flying away from the main battlefield. If they refused to give up Appel's location, then that must have meant she was far away; otherwise it wouldn't have mattered, since they would have found her anyway.

Sure enough, after a brief scan of the planet, she felt a power level several thousand miles away. I'm coming for you, bitch. She rocketed toward the signature, her aura leaving a red trail of energy in its wake. “I found her, I believe. Send a ship to my location when I give the signal.”

She gave it minutes later when she touched down at the entrance of what looked to be an underground bunker of some sort. Upon entrance, she found that it was a laboratory, undoubtedly one where Turrip conducted its more dangerous experiments.

Ah. There you are. Appel's signature was near, along with a second, substantially weaker signature. One that suddenly just... stopped.

It stopped. Meaning that whoever it belong to just...

Sarada felt her mouth run dry. Her heart started beating in her chest like a war drum. Pressure was building in her skull, compressing on her brain like a vice. No, it couldn't have been. It was someone else. It had to have been.

=Ma'am, we have Ava and the others. No sign of your sister, though.=

Her legs suddenly felt very heavy. It was getting very hard to walk. “U-understood.” Please. Please!

She closed in, unconsciously slowing her gait not out of caution, but out of fear. Fear of what she was going to find when she found Appel. Or rather, who she was going to find.

Parsley was strong. She was smarter than Sarada, more careful, more cautious. She was probably somewhere else on the planet.

Yes! Parsley was elsewhere, hiding until the coast was completely clear. She was always so careful like that.

She caught Appel closing a door behind her and was on her in an instant. A single punch ended any resistance the Tuffle leader may have thought of putting up. “I have apprehended Appel. When you arrive, arrest her and hand her over to the GP. She won't get a fair trial on Vocado.”

=Understood.=

With that done, Sarada's work here was finished. Every fiber in her being was screaming for her to turn around and leave, perhaps with Appel in her possession. Parsley was somewhere else on the planet, so it made no sense for her to linger in this damned empty place for any longer than necessary.

Yet, linger she did.

She breathed in deeply and cast a slow, almost frightened glance at the door in front of her. There's nothing in there, she assured herself. Yet, something within herself rebelled, snatched control of her body from her mind, and approached the door.

Parsley was elsewhere, but it wouldn't hurt to investigate. Right? It was likely just an office. It was probably booby-trapped, but still, there was no harm. Whatever happened to her could be mended by Ava and the remaining Turripians.

She reached and grabbed hold of the doorknob. It's steady rattled alerted her to the violent, fearful trembling wracking her hand. Her hands were shaking, as were her knees. Her breathing was fast and unsteady, like she was hyperventilating. Her sister wasn't in this room, why was she panicking? Why couldn't she breathe? Why should she open this door? There was nothing in there!

The door swung open and banged against the wall. It was dark. A foul, unholy smell rushed out. It smelled of feces, vomit, and... and...

...and death.

For a very long time – at least a full minute – Sarada stood just inside the doorway, waiting. Waiting for some sign that the room was empty. Just to her right, she could see the outline of a light switch. Turning it on would illuminate the entire room, thus ending once and for all any and all suspicions that this room was occupied by anything or anyone than herself.

It was possibly just a bathroom, given the smell.

And yet, knowing this, Sarada felt her mouth twitch, as if a word was forming on her lips, but refused to allow itself to be uttered. A badly shaking hand rose, sliding up the wall until it just barely nudged the bottom of the switch. Turning it on would answer the lingering question, yet... her hand refused.

There was no need. There was no reason for her to still be there.

A finger flicked upward to flip the switch. Bright, sterilized light filled the room.

Sarada, when she saw what the dark had been hiding from her – no, protecting her from – she made a choked sob. Her face felt hot, then wet.

Slumped against the wall, sitting in a mixed mush of old food, feces, vomit, and blood, was Parsley. She wasn't moving. Her chest was still. Her energy, originally mysterious, yet vibrant and so brilliant, was gone.

Parsley was dead.

At some point, Sarada moved from the door to kneeling beside her, cradling her head in her chest. “Please say something,” she sobbed. “Please, Parsley. Wake up. Wake up!”

Her sister was dead, and she felt something inside herself die along with her.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

"I guess that shows how much she cares about you
"

Damnable bitch.

Death wasn't a gentle thing. It was an uneasy, ongoing process, especially when it happened gradually. The realization that death was imminent came far too soon and only proved to prolonged the horrific process even more than necessary.

For Parsley, she assumed it was only fair. After all, how many hundreds of people endured the same slow, agonizing process because of her own actions. Blood spilled in retribution of spilled blood didn't right the latter, but it made the cause of the former feel better about themselves.

Parsley knew the moment before she drew her last breath that her life had come to its conclusion. It wasn't the death she had been hoping for, but one could not choose how one met their end, only what they did in the indeterminate moments leading up to it. She could safely say she wasted hers up until recently.

Falling in love with Avoca changed something within her, for the better. Losing her pride at the hands of her sister did also, again, for the better. It was a shame those two things didn't happen sooner, or else she might have been still alive. Or, at least less regretful.

I didn't even get to say goodbye.

Avoca would live the rest of her life not knowing how deeply Parsley's feelings for her ran. Sarada would never know how sorry she was for how she treated her during her years ago, and how proud she was of her.

No one would mourn her death except a few, she was sure. To the majority of Saiyans, she was another bigot who died, allowing a more open-minded person to take her place. In the end, as far as they were concerned, her death was a good thing.

That was fine. It wasn't like she could do anything about it from here.

"Wait, where am I?" Ever since she had 'woken up' she had been standing - floating?- in this obscenely long line. How much time had passed?

"What is this place?"