Dragonball M, Chapter 3: In Blood, Bone, and Ash! The Way Forward Unlocked!

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

In the months that followed the relocation of Tatenen, Ishtar had not been idle.

Her first priority had been the task of explaining -- and introducing -- the Elemanti to their new home and patron, Nevanlinna. So once the introductions to the Archon had been made, the two women made the trek to each of their tribes. A process that had taken several weeks, and had gone quite well as the tribes, all eleven of them, had taken to Nevanlinna with an endearing amount of naive curiosity. The only downside to this curiosity being that, as the first of her species that any had ever seen, the questions they had for her bordered on endless. To Nevanlinna's credit however, she fielded each and every one with the grace, and aplomb one might expect from proper royalty.

After the questions finally trickled to a stop, the Elementals satisfied and Nevanlinna wholly exhausted, Ishtar turned her focus toward the restoration of Tatenen's satellite. With Illargi destroyed however, there was no restoration to be had regardless of how potent the energies of Vaikuntha were. A dilemma that found itself the focus until a solution from Nevanlinna herself was offered:

Simply find a new one.

A thing that was rather simple in hindsight, and yet one that had been overlooked in favor of, perhaps, trying to restore Illargi to life with the Dragonballs. With the much simpler, and much faster alternative in place however, it was simply a matter of selecting a suitable candidate. Something that was similarly easy given how well-traveled Ishtar was; and in no time at all a candidate was selected from a list of adequate moons; and one in particular stood out: Hellenia. Once, it had been home to a species Satyr-like creatures, though in the years that Ishtar had stood upon its surface the once-verdant world had suffered a series of volcanic upheavals, leaving it little more than a smoldering grave-world. A perfect choice for relocation, and once it had been approved -- something that did not take long at all -- it was only a matter of acquiring it.

Though given the progress Ishtar had been making since coming into her Mother's boon, it did not take as much out of her to repeat what had been done with Tatenen.

With that done, and finally free from pressing obligations now that the Elementals were safe, with their new home along with its satellite were in the process of mending; the next thing the Oni prioritized was ... attempting to mend herself.

She was not, however, prepared for it.

The things she had learned from Zurvan, and Shek'hinah, about her past and how she came to be were not simply an obstacle to carefully navigate. They spanned far further back than simply a few thousand years, all the way back to the moment she was conceived, and the truth these things offered would change everything she had thought she'd known about herself. So when she dropped the barriers, and dredged it all up from the depths in an attempt address them ... move past them. She couldn't, and the more she labored to, the more she attempted to put one foot in front of the other and simply forge on ahead; Ishtar could only keep circling back to a single question. One she began to fixate on, as the realization that her whole live had been artificially constructed based on a future others wanted for her; and as much as she recalled them saying she could simply renege ?

She realized that they had all known that was impossible. Which mean that the question, the one she had long-thought she had discerned the answer to, after accepting ... choosing, who she needed to be, was now something she was no longer sure of.

Merely a puppet ...

It was this uncertainty, along with the other things she had learned -- pertaining to magic, and how it was perhaps influenced by things beyond the veil -- that began to haunt her; and quickly overwhelm what barriers she managed to erect in an attempt to compartmentalize and press forward as she had done so many times before. She began spending her nights sitting up and not in her lover's embrace, as she attempted to reconcile these thoughts ... it until the strain of it all caused the golden-eyed Oni to simply pull away entirely, hoping that seclusion would afford her the space and time to mend, or at the least compartmentalize. Yet ultimately, it failed; and when Sarada stepped in, unable to simply sit by and watch as the Oni she loved began to spiral ... she failed too. Her reassuring words, and attempts to literally beat sense back into Ishtar doing little more than accelerate the spiral. So Ishtar simply shut down, and unable to stop herself herself to be consumed wholly by the uncertainty she now felt, the nights without sleep became weeks. With no signs of improvement, and no answers -- from either Sarada, or those close to her -- the downward spiral seemed endless. Which became a free fall, once she realized that thanks to the Aka Manah, what she was suffering was being shared ... putting a monumental strain on Sarada's own shoulders.

Nearly driven mad by this, and everything else, it reached the point where Ishtar simply could not take it anymore. The urge to flee, as she had after the destruction of Illargi consumed her, and she simply knew she could not remain. Not here, on Vocado, or on Earth ... or in this Universe at all, until she had found a way through this. So one night she made the decision to do just that. Though even as sure as she was that her presence had become little more than a burden, and leaving the Universe behind until she could mend the fragments of her now fractured psyche; Ishtar did offer Sarada something before she fled:

A simple promise. One the Oni sealed with a soft kiss ... before vanishing into thin air as if she'd never existed at all.

"I will return, Sarada ... I love you."

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Avoca flew East, passing over seemingly endless miles of barren land. She wasn't sure if anything had ever been on this world. That diner back there apparently was a figment of her hunger-stricken imagination; yet, she felt as if she had just eaten two days worth of food in only a few hours. If her naturally high metabolism wasn't already burning through it, she would have felt like ****.

It's all the same, she lamented silently. Maybe this was why those other three people never came back – they all died of boredom after flying around this empty, barren rock for what seemed like days.

Hm? What's that? About five hundred feet up ahead, she spotted what looked like a man standing on top of a mesa. He was alone, unsurprisingly. As she got closer, she saw that he had a tail. He's a Saiyan! Meaning he must have been the second of the three. Either that or she was about to run into an insane person.

She landed on the mesa, about forty feet behind him. “Hey!”

He didn't answer. His back was to her as he seemed to be gazing intently on the valley below them.

She sighed tersely. “Hey, jackass, I'm talking to you!”

He turned his head slightly and scowled. “Another to challenge me. Very well.” Without another word, he turned his head and continued looking at the valley. “Try again.”

“Try agai--” Before she could finish, an intense pain shot through her torso. She doubled over and fell to her knees, gagging and gasping for air. It suddenly felt like she had just gotten the wind knocked out of her, but that was impossible. He never laid a finger on her!

As she wheezed, she heard him chuckle.

A soft growl escaped her while rising to her feet. “Why you!” She dashed toward him. Her fist reared back, intent on striking him square in the back.

Suddenly, she found herself hurtling uncontrollably toward the atmosphere at such speed that she would soon by flying into outer space if she didn't do something and quick. She gathered as much power as she could and expelled it in a bust of air pressure to act as a counter-force to her ascent and stop herself.

Her chest heaved from heavy and deep inhales. “Just what the ****?” He still hadn't moved at all, at least not from what she could see. “I'll show him!”

She roared and powered up. She was so much more powerful than him; the last two times were just lucky shots, without doubt. Speeding over to him, she unleashed a torrent of strikes that were far too fast for the much weaker Saiyan man to see, much less dodge.

Or, so she thought.

He parried several. Those that he wasn't in position to parry, he dodged with ease. Those that he couldn't dodge or parry, he outright blocked without budging an inch. His movements were fluid, like water or even air itself. Every time she seemed to get him in a bad spot, he somehow worked his way out and had her tied up in a knot.

She growled and shot back. “Take this!” She fired a massive energy blast the size of the entire mesa at him.

As it hurtled toward him, he seemed indifferent. Certain death was nearly on him, yet he made absolutely no move to move out of the way or otherwise defend himself. Then, at the absolute last possible moment, he raised his hand and flicked the blast away with his finger.

Avoca's blast flew over the horizon, where it exploded.

“Impossible!” It just couldn't be real. This guy was nothing compared to Avoca. His power level was down right pathetic. In fact, she was pretty sure it couldn't have been any higher than five. He was...

It suddenly dawned on her.

She hadn't been fighting any average, run-of-the-mill Saiyan man.

This was the legend. The greatest Saiyan fighter their race had ever known.

Beatz, the Legendary Fighter!

Beatz, like Buffet, was a mystery. His origins had been disputed several times over. One consensus was that he was born to low-class parents and developed some kind of disease that prevented him from gaining strength. This led to him having a power level of only 4. He was assumed to have lived prior to the age of the Meat Market, thus why he wasn't made a slave.

No one really could explain how his skilled passed over into the mystical. Some said simple training, but no amount of training could replicate his supposed feats. Whatever the case, one thing was certain: he lived up to the legend.

“So, you understand now?” he inquired when she didn't attack for some time.

“Tch,” she grunted. “This shouldn't be possible. Your power level is so low.”

“Power levels are nonsense,” he retorted gruffly. “Saiyans have become far too reliant on numbers to measure fighting prowess. Everyone should know that no number can truly measure a Saiyan's might. And that power without skill is nothing.”

She could have retorted that skill without power was also nothing, but he disproved that long before she even had the thought.

“Now then, what will you do?”

She frowned. She couldn't just give up, not after coming all this way. Parsley believed in her, and she didn't want to let her down and return a loser. But, Beatz was impossible. No matter how much she powered up, she couldn't even lay a finger on him.

I think I'm going about this the wrong way. She was trying to overpower him and it wasn't working. Perhaps she needed to try matching him skill for skill.

She breathed out and let her power fall, plummet to dangerous levels no sane person would even consider. It dropped until she matched his, four.

Like this, she felt weak and feeble. Also, incredibly slow. “Alright, let's go!”

Beatz smirked and chuckled. “Now you're getting.” He suddenly sprinted upward, literally running on thin air. He was actually running on the bundles of air molecules and using them as steps to reach her. She herself was having trouble even staying in the air, and was in no position to actually stop him.

Was it one punch?

It felt like hundreds, but he only actually threw one. Maybe it was the air pressure from that single punch that was hitting her. Or maybe it was more of his mystical martial arts bullshit. Either way, it fucking hurt and knocked her out of the air.

Her eyes cracked open and beheld standing in midair. Standing, not floating. His arms were crossed and he was carrying a disappointed look on his face. “Is this the best the Saiyans these days have to offer? Pathetic.”

She pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Tch! I'm not the one who can't even fly. You're pathetic, not me!”

“Oh? Then if you're so powerful, why haven't you laid a finger on me?”

She had no answer. If there even was one, it eluded her. She was faster, stronger, more powerful than him. By all logic, she should have turned him into a smear and a memory with one punch. She didn't get it, and it showed all over her face.

“Still confused, hm?” Beatz shook his head and slowly walked down toward her. “You depend too much on power. So much that you ignore your skill. Until you accept that as fact and are prepared to do something about, I can't teach you. Move on, woman. Brocado is waiting.” He stopped when he was fifteen feet above/away from her. “North.”

He was gone, vanished without a trace.

Avoca groaned and rose to her feet. Her chest, torso, and back her killing her. She was pretty sure she had at least a few broken ribs. “Ugh. Why did I agree to this ****?”

Brocado, the final legend was waiting for her due North. That was fine. Only one problem.

“Fuck, which way is North?”

[KingofPie]

Steam erupted from Sasheem's pores, a plume of blue smoke forming over him as he erupted like a humanoid volcano. A wave of ki surrounded him an the Snake Mistress' body, expanding outward in a circle. It collided with the various crates and construction equipment stacked on either side of the warehouse, eradicating anything it touched. The floor began to crumble as Sasheem erupted into a roar.

Lao looked over to his mage, panicked, "Hurry, you fool, the Mafuba!" The Mage barely registered his employer's words. He stumbled backward on his feet as the wave of ki began to increase in speed, a bright, white hot blinding light flashing before his eyes. All he could think to do to stop it was hold out his hand and continue to feebly cast the Mafuba properly before it was too late.

"Ma--Mafu..." the mage stuttered, before realizing, to his horror that his hand had vanished. The pain was delayed, but upon this realization he began to scream...and then he was no more.

"No! NO! Everything that I've built..." Lao shook his head furiously, the searing wave of ki before him. "It can't end this WAAAAAAAAAAAY!" he screeched as he too was blasted apart. Soon enough, the entire underground warehouse save for the area Sasheem and the Snake Mistress stood in had been destroyed and the fountain it lay under crumbled and caved in much to the surprise of the startled park goers.

The wall of ki had dissipated, and Sasheem stood breathing heavily, his anger not quite subsiding but slowly becoming more tempered. It was a brief ping on anger, instant, not boiling. He'd never acted so rash since absorbing P-Sta but the thought of her dying again was enough to stir something he hadn't quite felt in his entire existence. Concern over the life of another. The notion almost pissed him off even further.

But something...wasn't right. Sasheem looked above him...there was a hole in the ceiling now where the fountain had caved in, the wave of ki, demolishing the rubble and keeping him safe...but there was also...the odd blue cloud. Had...he made that? It appeared to be formed form the outpouring of steam he shot forth in anger...but now it was taking shape all on it's own.

First arms...then a head...then legs...antennae. It was clear to Sasheem that the cloud that formed before him was....himself in a way. The coloring was darker and his proportions slightly wider...but it was still him. Soon the steam faded away and all there was was another Majin, staring back at Sasheem.

"Oh...oh ****," Sasheem muttered, not quite sure what to make of this. It was him for certain, but...something was wrong. He could feel something emanating off the other him like a rotten stench, stronger than the miasma he had waded through earlier. Malevolence.

That didn't seem right...it wasn't like he felt any more like one of those stupid do-gooders on the Lookout. But the him glaring back at...himself, seemed to just lack something. Sasheem shook his head and tried to understand just what happened. Everything amped up too quickly. The two Majin continued to glare daggers into eachother for a minute. Then, without a further word....Evil(er) Sasheem took off, flying upward out of the fountain hull, towards the park.

Sasheem was silent for a moment and didn't immediately follow...instead he looked towards his mentor...but she was nowhere to be found. Did she vanish completely? Perhaps she went back to the afterlife...perhaps she had left to stop the other Sasheem. He wasn't sure, but now she was gone...right when he had more to ask of her. But he didn't even had time to dwell on that...he had to see what the Sasheem was up to.

"Hey...Hey!" The (original) Majin called up to his duplicate as he floated up into the sky to observe the park, it's patrons staring up at him, nearly frozen in place in either fear or curiosity. "What the hell is up with you anyway?!" Sasheem asked. "At least answer back, dumbass!"

Evil Sasheem merely glanced at the original, before glancing back at the crowd.

"Yeah, I think they're stupid too! Think they'd know better than to stick around after a fountain caves in, but hey! What the **** are you supposed to be anyway? Sasheem never really asked for siblings so he's half inclined to wipe you out and splatter you on the pavement here and now. But if you just stop lookin' stupid and say somethin', maybe we can come to some kinda agreement," The Majin concluded. Like sending him packing to Vocado for instance. That'd be hilarious.

The more reserved Sasheem remained silent, quietly observing the people below. He stood motionless, without so much as a single twitch...until a large group of park-goers began to hightail it, running back to their cars after apparently having sated their fill of gawking. The second Sasheem simply raised a hand, ki gathering in his palm.

"What, you're gonna kill 'em?" Sasheem asked, almost finding it amusing. "You can if you want. Just remember the stupid M-Fighters are gonna get on your case..." Sasheem trailed off, idly watching as his counterpart fired off a blast, giving the fleeing people hoping to make a quick exit, a quick end instead.

"Eh, well whatever..have fun," Sasheem shrugged. "Ain't Sasheem's problem...That is...Sasheem number one's problem," the Majin insisted. Gotta let his 'brother' know the established ranking. "Just don't make us look bad..." he stated, placing his hands in his pockets and beginning to fly off. Finding Balon was his next goal and locating him shouldn't be a problem so long.

But...

The screams of the people scrambling for cover amidst the blasts now reining down upon them was the most irritating noise he'd heard in his life. If it persisted he'd hear it for miles. But again...wasn't his problem at all.

"MOMMY!" he'd hear a voice shout. Kid who gave him cookies. Shame that Sasheem ate them all. If he had more, maybe his duplicate would stop. Maybe not. He couldn't really care less. He turned around, watching the kid run to his mother who scooped him up and stumbled backwards as she tried to run. His counterpart turned to them, raising a hand in the air.

Sasheem gritted his teeth together. ".....****. ****. ****!" Sasheem sighed heavily, wishing he had something to hit his head against as he turned around, hands still in his pocket, heading back towards his clone. The other Sasheem glared down at the civilians impassively as ki began to form in his palm once more...only to dissipate as his wrist was grabbed by Sasheem.

"Alright stupid, chill the **** out..." Sasheem said, exasperated, The Evil(er) Sasheem just turned around to glare at him. "We're both pissed off at what happened to Sensei, right? But we can't just-"

"Katchin Mode," the other Sasheem stated, his skin coating itself in the metal as he gave his counterpart a viscous headbutt. Sasheem's head rocked back, discombobulated, his eyes swirling as he let go of the second Majin's wrist.

"Can't say I wasn't expecting that..." Sasheem trailed off, his head reforming into it's original shape as he also uttered, "Katchin Mode!" and with one sudden motion, gave the other Sasheem a headbutt in return. The sound of the clashing metal reverberated loud and the shockwaves, knocked the people still in the park for whatever reason, off their feet.

"Heh...hehheh..." the second Sasheem began to chuckle, displaying an emotion other than stoic silence for once.

"Yeah, laugh it up all you want, moron!" Sasheem grinned, chuckling himself. "We both knew this **** wasn't about to end any other way!"

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Avoca found north and started flying. She was still thinking about her encounter with Beatz and the point he made. She depended too much on her power and didn't make use of her skill. When she thought about it, he was right.

She would be the first to admit that she wasn't the best hand-to-hand fighter. Actually, she couldn't think of any Saiyan who really focused on their CQC skills; many preferred to work on their ki techniques. She had been spending her time perfection ki manipulation, so she had no time to work on hand-to-hand.

I feel like I'm missing something, though. No way just being a martial master can let him just fucking walk on air like it's nothing. She supposed that, if she made it past whatever test or trial or whatever Brocado had in store for her, she would find out once she started training with them. If she could learn how to do even half that ****, she could start pulling her weight around Vocado.

She flew until she noticed a lone building. That wasn't really anything new. Except, unless she got hit a lot harder than she thought, it was moving. She squinted and stopped flying. “...yep. It's moving. **** me. I've had it with all this stupid bullshit.” Sighing more heavily than she had possibly in her entire life, she quickly descended.

It, thankfully, wasn't moving on its own. That would have eclipsed her weird meter. There was a man under the building, carrying it on his back about as easily as she carried Parsley after an all-night bender – the woman could hold her liquor for ****. “Um, hello?”

“Yo!” came the reply from under the building.

“Brocado?”

“That's me, little bro! Just a sec.” The building shot into the air, allowing the man under it to hustle out of the way before it slammed into the ground. “What's happenin', broette?”

Brocado... was a lot smaller than she was led to believe. The stories were very simple. He was a Saiyan who never stopped training and had gains the likes of which had never been seen before in mortal history. His body was supposed to be jacked, ripped to the absolutely max. Saiyan women across all worlds fantasized about meeting a man with a physique even half as impressive as his.

This... was nice, but it wasn't what she was expecting. She hoped to see muscles on top of muscles that would make her question her sexuality the first second after laying her eyes on them.

This wasn't it.

“I'm Avoca. I'm here to train under you and the other two legendary Saiyans.”

“Oh, yeah?” He walked around her slowly, eyes scanning every inch of her form. Every so often, he would poke her somewhere.

“Eep!” she squeaked when he poked her butt.

“Hrm. Your glutes are way too flabby, bro.”

“Hands off the butt, pal!”

“Huh? Flab is a no go, bro. The best physique has only 10% body fat. Any higher or lower than that is unhealthy for us Saiyans. Here, follow me.”

She expected him to lead her inside. When he instead lead her away from the building, she raised an eyebrow and followed after him.

Brocado led her about three hundred yards away from the building he had been carrying. “Okay, watch this. The perfect physique.” He clasped his hands together. “Brace yourself, little bro.” With no further warning, he flexed.

It was like an energy bomb exploded right in her face. The force created by Brocado flexing his muscles knocked Avoca off her feet and flung her away. She landed and skidded and rolled to a stop.

The entire planet was shaking violently. The very heavens themselves trembled like newborn fawns at the absolutely force of Brocado's perfect physique. Yes, even the gods themselves took notice, nodding with approval at the almighty divinity of the Brocado.

Emerald power swirled around him like a fire as his muscles swelled to their peak.



As soon as his flex peaked, it began raining. But, this wasn't any ordinary rain. The very heavens themselves wept over the beautiful sight they were blessed and privileged to bear witness to. The sun bowed, lowering just enough to be noticeable to anyone paying even a modicum of attention.

This was it. In all its majesty and splendor. This was the full, unadulterated, complete Legendary Super Saiyan Brosé!!

Avoca attempted to bear witness to this once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, but it wasn't possible. Because of the power being put out by the Master Flex overwhelmed her senses. Also, all of the blood in her brain suddenly gushed out of her nose like twin faucets. She fainted, falling back and landing on her side.

Some time passed before she finally came to.

“Still alive, eh?”

It sounded like Beatz.

“Ugh... what happened?”

“Congrats, Broheem,” Brocado said. “You survived the Master Flex. That was the last time.”

“The other three that came before you were vaporized,” Beatz explained. “By surviving, you prove that you're at least a little hardier than they are.”

Buffet mumbled something in between bites of a whole sheep. Just... an entire sheep, wool and all.

“Get some sleep and drink plenty of water, Broseph. We start training in the morning.”

She actually wasn't even sure if this all hadn't been a dream this whole entire time. She was half-sure she was going to wake up in her own bed in the morning. “Yay. Good night.” She passed out again.

Whatever the future held in store, there was no fucking way anyone was going to believe her.

Fucking ass, man.

[bruceleegreyhulk]

Over the next few days, Araxat and Killrog spend time together. Araxat shows Killrog tricks using her telekinesis. " Wow, I never seen a Toadian do that before. That's amazing," Killrog said.

Araxat crosses her arms. " Please do not call me that. I'm not a Toadian. I'm an Intoadian, and my kind is vastly superior to those green and gold skin frogs," Araxat said.

" Wait, so you, not a Toadian? You could have fooled me. So this isn't your homeworld?" Killrog said.

"I originally came from a planet called Amperior, and 28 years ago I came here to Qacriea To help the Toadians with their population problem. A problem which my kind had already solved long ago," Araxat said.

" So, how are you going to go about doing that?" Killrog asked.

" It's a work in progress. Okay, that's enough sightseeing for today let's get you home." Araxat said.

Araxat takes Killrog home. ( The Amphintis Empire thinks I'm mad for trying to help the Toadians. I don't blame them,) Araxat thought.

( Why should I help those who slaughter and prosecute my kind in the past? Maybe it's because I believe they deserve a second chance," ) Araxat thought.

( That Replita maybe when the time comes when he's older I could make use of him in my goal.) Araxat thought.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

A simple promise. One the Oni sealed with a soft kiss ... before vanishing into thin air as if she'd never existed at all.

"I will return, Sarada ... I love you."

The weeks had been absolute hell. Ishtar was suffering from an existential crisis that Sarada had no reference and no hope of understanding. She had never been lied to about her origins for much of her life, nor had she ever been pushed into a role that she had no choice or desire to fulfill and then be given an option that all involved knew she could not accept. In the attempt to move past this and move on with her life and duties, Ishtar found that she was unable.

The roiling, tumultuous emotions derived therefrom felt sick and poisonous. It wore down the Oni, to the point that sleep eluded her in a way that eclipsed and surpassed Parsley's insomnia after her resurrection. It wore Ishtar down to the point that she stopped coming to Sarada at night. In the latter nights prior to Ishtar's departure, Sarada spent them in bed alone. Outside of no longer being able to enjoy their usual nighttime activities, the refrain meant that everything Sarada had been attempting to do and say to help Ishtar find herself again had failed.

She would never claim to be some expert therapist. Saiyan therapy was very, very conditioned and focused to help Saiyans, and only Saiyans. Exorcising demons through constant combat wasn't for everyone. Ishtar's failure to cope thanks to Sarada's efforts was clear and undeniable evidence. Outside of the loneliness she felt at night, she felt that she failed her love in her moment of need. There was nothing Sarada could do to help her.

That was why she didn't fight or argue when Ishtar told her she was leaving. Wherever she had to go, whatever she needed to do to find herself and accept this new thing she was struggling to deal with, Sarada would be there. If not in person, then in spirit.

"I love you, too," she replied the moment she left. The kiss they shared lingered on her lips, remaining even as Ishtar vanished from reality as if she hadn't existed. Soon after, she felt her power drop.

She hadn't just left Vocado; she had left the entire universe. Wherever she went, Sarada hoped that she found the answers she needed and mended her heavily fractured mind. Ishtar was broken, badly. What Zurvan, Shek'hinah, and this Sihn person had placed on her -- the responsibilities to repair this universe after Asha'rah's ****-up -- had broken her. Her entire life consisted of being treated like a puppet, given no choice in her actions, and then the patronizing option of "Oh, you don't have to do this if you don't want to" with full knowledge that only an irresponsible ponce would agree to let this cup fall to someone else.

It broke Ishtar and that left Sarada incensed. She understood why her love hated these so-called gods.

The worst part?

Sarada felt it. She felt all of it. She felt the slow descent into madness. She felt the shattering of Ishtar's psyche with crystal clear, pristine clarity. It was as if her own mind was dissolving into a muddle mess and there was nothing she could do to stop it or even stem the damage. She felt herself getting sick. Her appetite all but vanished, she was often seen running to the nearest restroom to upchuck what little food could be found in her stomach, and sleep eluded her often.

It was hell, the worst she had suffered in years.

Sarada hoped that Ishtar managed to mend her broken psyche and returned better than ever. But, she was glad she was doing it in another universe. The emptiness she felt due to not being able to feel Ishtar's presence -- both physical and through Aka Manah -- was a small price to pay to be able to tend to her ever growing list of duties and responsibilities. She had 25 million -- closer to 30 now -- Saiyans to lead, and one person could not and should not have interfered with that.

She hated to think it and would never say it aloud, but it was the truth. She knew that, and Ishtar did too.

With her nights now freed up, all she could do is stand outside on the balcony and stare up at the stars. She liked to imagine she was out there, staring back at her from wherever she was. Come home soon, Ishtar.

[Yun Lao]

A moment of tense silence passes over the snowy field, and several of the figures slowly reach for their weapons...

Until the voice rises over the silence. "Hold." Without a moment of hesitation, they let their arms fall and step back to give rex room. Slowly, a old man in a wheelchair emerges from his tent, flanked by two more of the cloaked figures. There is clearly a powerful spark of magic within him, perhaps the only thing keeping his old bones in motion.

"Forgive our impertinence, Monach of the Wastes. We are but humble scholars and historians, seeking knowledge of the past....our ignorance of you is but another sign we have much more to learn." The old mand hunched over and folded his hands. "However, I am curious of your words.....you claim no natives live in your realm, but we've been attacked for the last 3 nights by beasts bearing some semblance of your image...we had thought you another until you spoke. Pray, allow us to live a little longer.....I'm sure your as curious of this as I am"

The man snapped his brittle finger, and two figures dragged the carcass of a creature out onto the snowy ground.

"Does this creature mean anything to you, perhaps?"

At last, someone with some sense among these fools. Studying the old man wheeled before him, it was quickly apparent that he was the leader amongst this group, given the reverence the others gave toward his words and actions.

A shame his manners had yet to rub off on the younger ones.

The old man's words of respect pleased Rex, soothing his wrath for the time, although it might have been a moot point as all emotions drained into confusion and curiosity upon seeing the bizarre carcasses brought before him. A long moment of silence fell upon him as the saurian crouched down, studying these warped creatures. Clearly, they had been originally raptors or perhaps based from them, but they had been dead long enough for whatever energy they might have possessed to be prominent enough to identify. Instead, he sensed only faint whispers of something familiar, yet alien.

"I had given these lands back to nature..." He began, holding up the neck of one of the beasts, "An offering to the earth as an apology for allowing the sins of the people here to flourish as long as they had."

Tightening his grasp, the warped raptor's cold neck shattered beneath his grip and he dropped it back onto the ground.

"I fear someone has long beaten you to the punch when it comes to graverobbing..."

[Yun Lao]

After making sure Zaofan was pumped with enough bacon/shortening to ensure he wouldn't require a wish to get back, Erosa gave the unconcious cook a comforting pat on the head. "Good Cookboy ero.....that's it...."

Despite being relived that her cookman was at least fine for the time being, the subsequent knowledge regarding the Vutter put her immediately back into a bad mood. "Grrrrrr......So it isn't suppose to one of the "good" foods, its like those super spicy or dangerous foods people eat for the challenge. Idiot Praxet should have told sooner. Now Cookman poisoned and Erosa look like food wimp for spitting out."

With a sudden burst of resolution, Erosa place Zaofan on the ground, stood, and matched over to the table where what remained of the container of Vutter lay in all its toxic glory.

"Nobody else will fall prey to this trap Ero." The Id snatched the container once more, and rather then down just a small handful, she let fly the entire remaining contents into her mouth.....immediately snapping it shut as soon as it was all in.

The Id turned, cheeks packed with bitter disgusting Vutter. For a moment she just stood, mouth slowly curving and caving in from the bitterness. She starts shaking, her face sweaty, knees weak, arms heavy, vomit pushing up her throat already...tasting vaguely of spaghetti. Her body starts involuntarily powering up as she attempts to power down the sickening lump of goo. The kitchen trembles, walls crack, cabinets open and spill their contents on the floor, containers go flying.

....and finally, in one hard swift swallow, it was over.

With a triumphant "Ero!" the Id throws the empty container against the floor of the kitchen, cracking the floor open while she lets her mouth hang open to show her victory.

"Ok.....We go beat up Rex now." Erosa walks over and picks up Zaofan, carrying him like a giant sleeping baby in her arms. "Time girl come too if she want help....Let Cookman sleep til we get there Ero."

"Commendable, if only slightly... pointless" Shōchū said in respect to Erosa's victory over the vutter, "Still if we are to encounter any vox, that skill should come in handy."

Her snark was cut short as Erosa mentioned the Beast's name. While the kami of this planet had warned her about going after Rex, Shōchū could not easily set aside her grudge. Not after everything he did in her timeline.

"Yes... let's go."

High above the white, desolate tundra of the far north, a small figure flies swiftly with her human cargo. Gusts whipped and howled around them, cold enough to kill a lesser man in minutes, only warded by the heat generated from Erosas flight. Still...the chill was becoming harder and harder to bear, the wind a perpetual foe growing in strength the farther she proceeded. She was not sure how long she had been flying, honed onto the pin prick of information she had been told as to Rexs location and relying on her sense to lead her the rest of the way.....yet it was growing dark, and as much as she wished to proceed further, her unconscious companion had yet to wake, and would likely not wake at all if she continuted to fly him at such a high altitude in such extreme cold.

Descending closing to the ground, Erosa crests the next hill to find a safe place to land.....with luck seemingly in her favor. Below lay a collection of old ruins, mostly collapsed or exposed, but enough to provide protection from the elements for a time.

Landing in a explosion of powdered snow, Erosa placed Zaofan against the cold stone while she quickly flew nearby to snap several pieces of wood from the only trees in the immediate area. Frozen branches snapped with sickening sound...like cracking bones, thought Erosa was in too much of a hurry to care.

Within minutes she had a fire roaring, sparked with a little energy from her phoenix drive....and just in time for the gloom of day to give way.

Sitting next to Zaofan, Erosa made sure the cookman was comfortably close to the fire...then pulled out a cup of chocolate puddling to bide the time as she watched over him.

The cold did not bother her to the degree it had on Erosa. Her internal temperature was regulated through bioelectronic sensors throughout her body which automatically adjusted the energy produced within and relocated to each area requiring warmth. As a human, the amount of energy, control, and focus needed would have been at a great cost to what fighting ability she might have had left upon reaching their destination, but such were the perks of being a machine mutant nowadays.

Thankfully, for the sake of Erosa and Zaofan, they seemed to have reached their objective... or at least a stopping point as there were no visible signs of the beast so far. Landing gently atop the powder snow, Shōchū scanned the ruins for any indications of life or threat.

By the light of the fire, the chef's pallor slowly restored to his usual complexion, and yet despite the frost and chill, a trickle of sweat began to roll down his forehead. Mmrgh...so heavy... Silently, he curled over to one side into the fetal position, shivering as his stomach loudly churned the salty, greaseberg bolus that stubbornly refused to move. Bacon and grease...grease and bacon...oooh... Cold, heady sweats left him frozen under a weighty curtain of sleep, and though he struggled to lift his eyelids, it was as if they had been forcibly shut, even as he heard the frostborne wind shear through brittle branches around him.

Warmth slowly thawed the stiff droplets raised on his skin. All too soon he'd realized that in the throes of sleep his shirt had soaked through with blood-warm sweat. It clung to the bricks behind him, and when the wind brushed against it the vapour carried the cold straight through to his bones.

By reflex, he'd suddenly remembered his training, and the Dragon's Endurance lift him from a dead-weight stupor into a loagy fatigue.

"Erosa?" he yawned as he slowly leaned forward over his knees. The fiery qualities of the Dragon School served him well enough the last time he was up here, but the shrieking gales had a way of hitting him straight in his Islander blood. "Where are we?"

"Cheh."

"Eh?"

Towering stock still behind the Id as they waited for him to awake, Ochazuke stood watch. Even as the snowflakes whipped furiously about them, somehow his martial brother remained untouched by them, and they would never reach the fire Erosa had built.

"Get up," he said, "it's time to hunt."

It didn't take long for another to approach and with the awakening of Zaofan, it became apparent that this brooding man was an ally. Judging by his demeanor darkening upon their objective here, Shōchū knew Ochazuke was an ally in her regard.

[MrSandman]

Media coverage of the summit had reached something of a fevered pitch among the citizenry, especially those of Capital City. With multiple cameras broadcasting live footage, most of the major networks were either playing or commentating on proceedings as they happened. Thousands of people tuned in to watch history in the making, wither from home, at work, hotels, bars, restaurants....pretty much anywhere with a TV. What made it all the more special for Capital citizens was the event was playing out not all that far from any of them....the leaders of their own planet, and those of others, all gathered here on earth to discuss beneficial relationships.

For many.....it was the event of the century, perhaps even more. For others an interested talking point.

For Rendal Henderson, it meant a little more then the average viewer. He was a survivor of the battle of captial city......had the scars to prove it, and thankfully that was all he had. He had been caught in the streets when the fighting erupted, and would have been dead if not for the intervention of some of the offworlders, the Saiyans in particular. It filled his heart with no small amount of pride to see them formally forging ties with them.

Perhaps one day he'd get to meet the Queen, and thank her personally for what she had done for him....even if indirectly. He was alive, and so was his daughter, who had been rescued in another part of the city. That was all he could truly ask for.....

"Why hellO sir, fine evEning we're haVing."

Rendal felt a hand rest on his shoulder.

For a few brief moments his mind shuddered in revulsion. The voice was male, but the tone sounded off in a way he couldn't put into words...and the touch was foul to the point of triggering an immediate gut wrenching jerk.....or it would have if he could. Instead of doing what his body and mind wanted him to do, he turned to the source.

To his side stood a man in a dapper suit, hair sculpted to perfection, small beady eyes and a smile that went on for miles.

"Pardon me....I was passing by, looking for a soul to talk to and you seemed like the flavor of the hour" The man stepped up to Rendals side and sat.

"What are you...some kinda...buisnessman?" Rendal managed to ask despite the overwhelming conflux of feelings that were bubbling around his brain.

"Haha!" The man let out a laugh, his row of perfect teeth glinting in the light. "Don't be silly friend. I'm a salesman.....a Buisnessman will steal your soul with a smile, but all a salesman asks is a moment of your time."

Turned his attention to the TV, the salesman grins. "Interested in the show are you?"

Randel nodded weakly. "Of course....who isn't..."

"Your absolutely right sir. Who wouldn't be interested in the end times." The man winked with two sets of eyelids. "Why....this is a red letter day. The future of your species signed away on a piece of parchment."

Randel struggled to talk, let along scream. It was as if a night terror was playing out before him, his body unable to react in more then basic functions while his mind remained full conscious to what was happening. All around him people went on with whatever they were doing, completely oblivious to the exchange between the two.

"I...I don't..." his voice pleaded.

"In fact, I'd be a little irate if I were in your shoes. Any deal of friendship with the Saiyans is a bad deal and I know my deals. Butchers and Murders, Looters and Pillagers, shake your hand with one hand while slitting your throat with the other. Did it to plenty of others in the past......what makes yours is gonna be any different." The Man leaned in, his eyes locking with Randels. "Whats a simple human to do....dangle in the wind while your flaccid leader bends the knee. Look at him, he's like a husk of what he was am I wrooong?"

"They.....didn't....do nothing wrong...." Randel stammered. "They saved me...an....an my..."

"Oh yes, that is quite a shame about that daughter. Dying young is a tragedy....and to think, had she not been in the wrong place at the wrong time she never would have been hit by that stray blast." The salesmans grin took up Randels entire field of view, and he screamed mentally as whatever gripped him seemed to burn itself into his mind. "But such is the fate of mortals, to be snuffed out by gods who care nothing for you and yours. am I wrrrrroong?"

"Ye....Ye.."

"AM. I WRONG."

Randel made one last vain attempt to speak, before what remained of his sane mind was submerged in the fires.

".......No......"

The salesman gripped Randels shoulders, fingers digging into flesh, and for a moment energy seemed to pass along his fingers into Randels body.

"This world is for Humans, and no others. You and yours will never be safe while deals are cut with monsters....Am i wrong?"

Randels face slowly contorted into a sneer. "No."

"Who is your enemy."

"Saiyans." Randel spat.

"No.....WHO IS YOUR ENEMY!"

"....All of them."

Releasing his grip, the salesman dusts off the mans shoulders....leaving not marks nor any indication anything had happened. With a flurish, he took a step back. "You know what to do friend. Pass it along.....Pass it along....."

"Pass it along." Randel repeated, pushing himself up out of his chair. "Pass it along....."

Turning to the man next to him, Randel places his hand on his shoulder....and with a look of fear and sickness, the man turns to face him.

"Interested in the show are you?" Randel asked.

[bruceleegreyhulk]

Praxat arrives on the Lookout with Nadila and goes to look for Blizzar. " Blizzar, I have a Brench-Sejin with me who has something important to tell you," Praxat said.

Meanwhile, on GP's Orbital Incarceration Satellite. Earl is playing a game of tic tac toe." So can you morons let me out now?" Earl shouted.

" I have been in here for a month. While my twin brother has been going around posing as me. Do you know how many antiques I miss to collect or get a chance to look at, because of you morons?" Earl shouted.

[KingofPie]

Praxat arrives on the Lookout with Nadila and goes to look for Blizzar. " Blizzar, I have a Brench-Sejin with me who has something important to tell you," Praxat said.

Blizzar sat upon a table in the looko uout, idly tapping on a data pad as he sipped a cup of tea. Glancing up as Praxat and her guest arrived, he sighed, "...Important, is it? Out with it, then."

Meanwhile, on GP's Orbital Incarceration Satellite. Earl is playing a game of tic tac toe." So can you morons let me out now?" Earl shouted.

" I have been in here for a month. While my twin brother has been going around posing as me. Do you know how many antiques I miss to collect or get a chance to look at, because of you morons?" Earl shouted.

Washa idly rose his head above the magazine he'd been reading, towards the monitor he had been covering with his feet, currently kicked up on the control panel. He turned to his partner lackadaisically and asked her, "Drya....individual cell speakers have a mute button, right?"

"Yep," Drya nodded, intently more focused on finishing her lunch than the conversation at hand. "Third switch from the right."

"Yep," Washa repeated, idly flicking the switch upward, muting Earl's cell. "Thought so....Don't worry buddy, they'll be back on in an hour," he assured the imprisoned officer. "...Unless we forget."

[Sub-Zero MKA]

The building was a gym. A fully equipped gym, complete with sauna, shower, and full assortment of weights no less than fifty tons a piece. Avoca got the chance to become very, very acquainted with this place over the six months she spent training with The Three.

The training was difficult. The days lasted 48 hours, over twice as long as Vocado's days. It was a uniquely strange feeling, being up that long. Once she got used to the extreme difference in time, she spent her days eating, training, and sleeping. So, no different than how she usually spent most of her days.

To understand how The Three legends existed and how their abilities worked, she had to strip herself of all conventional knowledge. She had to forget everything she thought she knew about the Saiyan race. She had to forget about depending on power, and to instead depend on her mind. She needed to make her body her slave, and beat it into submission to surpass what Saiyans thought was possible. Then, and only then, could they teach her.

First was Buffet. The secret to his extreme hunger was simple. His metabolism was hyper-active, over one hundred times that of a normal Saiyan. Meaning he could eat the same amount as thousands of Saiyans and still be hungry.

It was literally impossible for her to speed up her metabolism, so she had to find a way to circumvent that. Buffet knew how; he taught her how to convert large amounts of matter into energy. The method he taught her wasn't difficult in theory, but practice took her weeks to hammer down. Her hunger hadn't changed, so eating food to gain power really didn't help her much, as her body wasn't specifically designed to hold that much power yet.

Buffet's was.

“C'mon,” he said between chews of the extra large steak he pulled from his pocket before he lesson began. “You can do better than that. Just eat it.”

“It isn't that simple,” she scowled.

“Sure it is. Just eat it.”

There was a globule of energy sitting on the ground, radiating brightly like a small sun. Buffet told her to eat it. That really wasn't the simplest thing to do. It wasn't exactly edible. She sighed. “Alright, fine.” She scooped it up in her hand and brought it up to her mouth. Like this, she could hear it humming; a sound she never heard before. In fact, she wasn't even aware they made sounds outside of however the **** someone described an explosion. Kablooie or some ****.

She sighed again and opened her mouth. It was like trying to eat a ball of gelatin. It wobbled around in her hand, forcing her to simply bite into it.

It exploded, making a kablooie noise right in her face.

“Ahahahahaha!!”

“Grrr shut up!!” She wiped the soot off her face and shook it out of her hair, then formed another blast. This time, she shoved the entire thing in her mouth. It felt like she was trying to eat fire. She swallowed it before it had the chance to explode. “Gah!”

“There you go!” He fired a blast of his own at her. “Try this!”

“Wha—” She opened her mouth, catching it, and swallowing it just like she did her own. This time, something...strange happened. Instead of feeling like she was trying to chew fire, it felt... cool. It went down a lot more easily. When it did, she felt more powerful than she had before. Not much, but just enough to notice. “Wow.”

He muttered something while chewing on a hamburger. Another blast came her way, followed closely by another.

The same thing. She caught them both, swallowed them, and enjoyed the boost in power that came with it. Buffet's lesson in turning matter to energy had been combined with her own uncanny ability to manipulate another person's ki. She was gaining power by eating and absorbing attacks.

“Aw yeah!”


Training with Brocado consisted of one thing: lifting weights. When she wasn't lifting weights, she was drinking water to stay hydrated. As she had heard countless times – until she was sick of hearing it – hydration was the key to positive gains, bros.

When she started, she could only lift around thirty tons. Each day, she focused on a different body part: legs, arms, back/chest, and even her butt. She was reluctant about that last one, since she knew that Parsley was going to throw a bitch-fit. When she tried to explain, Brocado wasn't having it. Blah blah blah, perfect fizeek trumped everything.

It was no use arguing, so she silently hoped that her ass didn't lose too much weight.

As the weeks passed and she slipped into a second nature routine, she noticed that she was getting jacked. Nothing too extreme, thankfully, but it was enough to make even her own mouth water. She hoped that seeing this new six pack and these thick thighs would be enough to make Parsley forgive her for shaving an inch or two off her backside.

“Brocephus! Lookin' good Brovoca!”

Avoca had been flexing in the mirror, admiring her new gains when Brocado walked in from a session in the sauna. “Thanks, bro. These gains are sick.”

“Damn right they are. Now, it's time for me to teach you the Master Flex.” He had her follow him outside. “When you do the Master Flex, you're invincible. It unleashes the fully breadth of Super Saiyan Brosé and increases your power to unfathomable heights. Me myself, I guess my power would rise into the tens of trillions.”

Tens of trillions?! She sure as **** believed it. It seemed like the entire universe was shaking when he first unleashed Super Saiyan Brosé. Getting a boost of that caliber – even if it wasn't nearly as much as Brocado – sounded good as **** in her mind. “Alright, lay it on me. I'm ready to get invincible!”

“Slow your roll, Bromine. I should mention that Brosé is only active when you flex.”

…

“...huh?”

“Yep.”

How the... how the hell was this in any way useful?! A technique she could only use while flexing? Could she even fight while flexing?

...No, she couldn't.

****, what a useless thing... hold on. She supposed she could use this as a defensive ability. If she was invincible, then she could be a tank for someone.

Alright... she overreacted. There was some merit to this. She just needed to think outside the box a little. “Okay, let's do this.”

“Alright!”

The Master Flex was simple. She just had to flex all of her muscle simultaneously to their fullest extent. It took her a few tries, but when she got it, something amazing happened.

Her body was hard as katchin, and just as indestructible. Her muscles bulged and quivered subtly. When the Master Flex was in place, her body immediately and automatically became covered in a thin film of baby oil. When the sun hit her, she shone like a star in the night sky; the brightest, most ripped star to ever exist. The ground trembled as it bowed to her glistening magnificence.

Brocado whistled profoundly and circled around her. As he did the day they met, he poked various parts of her body. Unlike that time, there was zero give anywhere.

He grinned and gave her a thumbs up.


Lastly came her training with Beatz. The lesson he wished to inculcate on her was by far the most difficult, because it seemed impossible. Evasive Divorce was a concept that allowed the user to literally divorce their ki from their body. In other words, it would let her appear to be in several places at once, while actually being nowhere near there.

It was quite the nifty technique, if she could ever actually master it.

The preparation for it was slow and tedious. It required that she spend days meditating, for hours each day. She already had complete control over her ki, but Beatz said she needed greater than complete, whatever that was supposed to mean.

Day after day, she sat in the same spot, eyes closed and focusing very narrowly on her breathing. Breathing was the key to ki – heh – and thus the key to Evasive Divorce.

“Let your ki flow like the breeze,” Beatz would say every so often. “It should resonate through space like ripples in still water.”

His cryptic mumbo-jumbo wasn't helping any.

Days, weeks passed without her making any progress. It was frustrating, but she wasn't going to give up without at least doing it once.

One day, five months after she arrived and three months after beginning her training with Beatz, she finally got it. When she was meditating, she felt a... rift in her body and her ki. She focused on that rift, forcing a rip that tore the two apart like two halves along a seam. This created a near perfect copy of her that was sitting beside her.

Near perfect because it was red and transparent.

Beatz smiled and nodded.

“Whoa.” When she spoke, the copy mimicked, but didn't make a sound. Every move she make, it made the same simultaneously. Oh, I can make use of this.

It was weird. She could feel her own power standing right in front of her. It really felt like she was in two places at once.

To remarry – for lack of a better word – her ki and body, she placed her hand inside the copy. It was drawn back in automatically.

Finally getting it right felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

“Well done,” Beatz commended. “Evasive Divorce is one of my most complex techniques.”

“Sure as **** felt like it.”

“Mm. Now then. Let's put your new power to the test.”

She nodded and stood across from him.

The training she had endured the last few months had immediate dividends. She was better able to keep up with him, far better than she could when she first tried. She still couldn't lay a finger on him, but the gap between them was a little narrower than before.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

She spent one more month with The Three, continuing her training with Beatz, eating with Buffet, and pumping iron and flexing with Brocado. Avoca felt like a new Saiyan. She was more powerful than she had ever been in her entire life. New skills in her repertoire had her feeling like a dangerous fighter again, someone worthy of fighting alongside Sarada and Parsley. Can't fucking wait to show off my new power to everyone.

The hatch to her pod opened. Before she entered, she turned and bowed to The Three legendary Saiyans. “Thank you again for training me. It's been an honor being your student.”

“It's been real, Brovoca!”

“Yes. You've done well,” Beatz added.

Buffet mumbled something while chewing on a mouthful of whale meat. Where he got the whale from, no one knew. There were no oceans on the planet.

“Bye, guys. Hope the next Saiyan that shows up is up to snuff!” With one last thumbs up, she got into her pod and took off. Destination, home. Parsley, here I come! Ah, ****! I missed our kids coming out of the pods. ****, she's gonna kill me!!

[Yun Lao]

"Arcadia..."

The word felt foreign in his mouth, yet there was a sliver of familiarity; it was as if, deep in his primal instincts, he recognized it for some reason.

"What is this place?"

"It..." Lao Long paused as he looked to the building wistfully. The memories seemed to threaten to overwhelm him beyond words but he would eventually find them, "It is many a thing: school, fortress, home. Many have lived and died in its walls. Stepping into the courtyard, he saw a large, weathered statue of some man he did not recognize. "As I said, you have been asleep for some time," Lao Long continued with, "If you are to return, you will need to regain your strength and rebuild your mind."

They approached the entrance and it was then he caught a reflection in a nearby window. It was of something, no someone... no... it was... him? He could not be sure as he saw a hairless figure without a face, only a smooth surface where eyes, nose, and mouth should have been. He was disgusted and horrified, yet before these feelings could consume him, Lao Long gently grabbed his upper arm and pulled him inside. "There is no point in worrying about how you look. You are barely a sapient creature, nonetheless an average person at this point." The cruelty of Lao Long's words stung, but he agreed for reasons he did not know.

The interior was rich in design, with furnishings befitting only the best of the best. Walls were emblazoned by various corporate logos, fliers for tournaments, quirkier posters meant for entertainment and amusement, and widescreens for various viewing purposes. For but a moment, he could have swore he heard distant conversations and saw shadowy figures in his peripheral vision.

"Are we the only ones here?"

"Yes... and no," Lao Long answered cryptically, "You and I are the only "real" occupants here, but it also houses the memories of others... namely mine. I recreated Arcadia in order to gain a semblance of home and you will find that these other memories have made their own home here."

"Home... will I also make a home here?"

His guide chuckled and it was only now that he caught a glimpse of a golden sheen from Lao Long's left eye, "No. You will be the one to destroy them all. Only by doing that will you have the strength to return to where you truly belong."

[grampagen]

The cold did not bother her to the degree it had on Erosa. Her internal temperature was regulated through bioelectronic sensors throughout her body which automatically adjusted the energy produced within and relocated to each area requiring warmth. As a human, the amount of energy, control, and focus needed would have been at a great cost to what fighting ability she might have had left upon reaching their destination, but such were the perks of being a machine mutant nowadays.

Thankfully, for the sake of Erosa and Zaofan, they seemed to have reached their objective... or at least a stopping point as there were no visible signs of the beast so far. Landing gently atop the powder snow, Shōchū scanned the ruins for any indications of life or threat.


It didn't take long for another to approach and with the awakening of Zaofan, it became apparent that this brooding man was an ally. Judging by his demeanor darkening upon their objective here, Shōchū knew Ochazuke was an ally in her regard.

"GGGAO!" Like a surprised cat, Erosa exploded into the air...sailing over Zaofans head and attaching herself to the damaged wall. Her half eaten pudding cup landed unceremoniously upon Zaofans head. "Don't sneak up on me! When did Ocha get here......." The Id detached herself and landed beside the groggy cook. "Not matter....Rex have head start and its getting dark ero. Need to be ready for cold night hunting."

While Erosa spoke with Ochazuke, Zaofan lay somewhere between sleep and awake....grogly but able to understand what was playing out before him, thanks in large part to his skills.

Perhaps it was due to this strange mix of conciseness, but the cooks blurred attention was drawn for a moment to the ground outside the ruins.....and for but the briefest of moments a humanoid shape, glowing and ethereal, walked slowly past what must have been the doorway.

Zaofan's mind was as slow to process as the globular panacea that sat like a lead ball in his gut, and before he knew it, he felt the cup bounce off his crown and the confection run slowly down one side of his head.

He'd yet to completely grasp the situation. Where are we? Despite the howl of the wind through the ruins, the remainder of the toxin captured and working through his body left him feeling half awake. Only the wind howled in response, snowflakes carried upon its icy gob. ...why are we...?

But he'd picked up preternaturally that there was somehow food involved. Wasted food. "Rex...?"

By the fire's light reflected against the white of the now, it seemed as if an unsightly gash had spread over his temple and bled out over his ear. Swiping a fingerful, the wind cooled it to a crisp shell; dabbing it into his mouth, tears slowly spread to the corners of his eyes.

"Charco."

Ochazuke pressed his hand against the snows. Any return to this forsaken continent will always come far too soon. So would be the reemergence of that damned saurian and the hoary veil he left in his wake. "So long as the vessel still can draw a breath, so there remains a chance." Yet even as he spoke the words, his eyes only hardened, and his frown deepened.

In an instant, he threw his ki to augment his sense; Kyokushin Keiihatsu, the expansion of his meditational sense-awareness, traced the energies gathered about the blasted tundra. The subtle skill, resonating with the spirit that stirred in the Earth around them, reached deep into the environs, and with Muhen Seikai Keihatsu Ochazuke increased the breadth of his surveillance.

After some time of popping frozen pudding under his tongue, Zaofan groggily stood to his feet, stretching with a great yawn to pull himself out of his fading cognizance.

"I...ah...never really got to thank you. For saving my life, I mean" he stumbled as he looked over to Shochu, a loose, dopey smile spreading under his glassy eyes. "So, thank you. I'll whip you up something nice..."

Zaofan's eyes drift as he spoke, looking past the ruin archway at the stalking figure.

"Once... once we get..." Yet it seemed as soon as that shape appeared, it brightened. Then faded, and slowly moved outside of the ruin. Zaofan's jaw slowly dropped, his voice falling to a whisper.

"...ghost?"