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

[Tami]

The computers are complicated, but those familiar with Jinzi and his works can probably figure them out. None are password locked. Those familiar with Incenio’s labs would remark these are somewhat similar.

The two dozen pods serve as stasis and holding cells, alongside experimental holding.

Fifteen are dead outright. Experimental surgery evident on them. Two Namekian’s, three Arcosian, three Saiyan, one human, one Kitsuna, one Yadratian GP Officer, one Oni, one Threshling, one Majin, and one unknown race.

Of the seven remaining, four are empty, but three hold those still alive. One is a Promethean, though he’s in a bad way. Another is a serpentine female humanoid, a Nagaian, who’s hurt but not as badly, and the last is a Half-Saiyan man in weird uniform. He appears the most stable, though he has clearly been there a while.

Dash calls to Sarada, "Are there any controls over there for these pods? If not, ah might try doin it the Saiyan Way [spoken in a slight jest] an just break it."

She then walks over to see the controls for herself, having spent time in Jinzi's lab for one reason or another, she can see that they look somewhat familiar. .

[MrSandman]

Dash calls to Sarada, "Are there any controls over there for these pods? If not, ah might try doin it the Saiyan Way [spoken in a slight jest] an just break it."

She then walks over to see the controls for herself, having spent time in Jinzi's lab for one reason or another, she can see that they look somewhat familiar. .

"Halt." Cthylla suddenly remarked in Dashs direction. "....Proceed only if we you are prepared or have the means to render restorative assistance to this lifeforms upon their release. Simply opening their cocoon may render them closer to death then you may realize."

Cthylla turns to the capsules and expands her void perception in and around each, peering at them, inside them....seeing what is broken and what needs to be fixed. Observing their dimming existence.

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

"So, it's just a walking rot factory?! And here Sasheem thought Erosa's stomach would be the worst thing he smelled in his life..." Sasheem noted, as he continued following the oni. Such a creature at a first glance appeared as if it'd get along swimmingly with the Majin. A single minded focus; annihilate everything.

"No." Ishtar said, firmly.

"The Rot is simply ... slow." After a moment of pressing forward, the Oni slowed slightly before a sigh echoed down the empty hall. "One supposes there is no reason in hiding what happened to the survivors," she finally said. "Those who survived, had turned to cannibalism. Freshly dead at first, to preserve what little of their 'morality' remained. Once the maggots and rot took hold of the corpses however ... they turned on the weakest of themselves." Though this was not unique. Ishtar had seen much of this on worlds where famine, and drought had stripped the planet of its nourishment.

Yet this was ... different.

"After that ? Baric took his time. First he flayed them, not all the way ... no. They would have bled out, otherwise. Died from exposure. So he would flay a little, and then he would wait and flay some more. From there it was simply a matter of, I assume, what he felt like doing to them. Some he simply trampled to death. Others he slowly dismembered. Starting with the limbs, and only stopping once their will broke and Death granted them mercy. For a select few ... Ah ..." The Oni stopped short, to recall everything exactly as it happened; and only when she was satisfied did she continue.

"There were ten left, in the end. All approximately the same height, weight, and genders of equal number. The 'strongest', I suppose. And then he set to work on them, slowly ... almost as if he cared to do it right." If a Nuckalevee could be considered to possess such a thing as that. "He took a blade, produced from I know hot where, and severed each of their structural appendages ... ribs, really; and pushed them slowly through their emaciated bodies at odd angles to produce what I can only call 'wings'. After he was satisfied, a process that took hours ... he ever so carefully took their organs -- I know not which -- and pulled them through two vertical cuts he made in each of their backs."

Ishtar's stopped again, to catch her breath; and though her voice never rose above its whispered monotone, but if one knew here well they could see she was troubled by her recalling of this, all the same.

"I learned later what they were called ... yet at the time, these 'Sanguinous Sparrows' Baric created; for at the time what kept my attention was not the ... grotesque masterpieces, but how the victims never once uttered a word in protest through pain one can hardly imagine ... They only ever blinked."

The state they must have been in, mentally ... all at the hands of a single entity. It was a mercy there were only ever three.

"Um...so, any suggestions?"

Finally, she spoke. "He can only be contained, then. Not killed? That cuts down on our options considerably." It was difficult, but not impossible. For her, that was the pinnacle of combat. The odds were high against her; what else could she do except overcome? "Tell me about this other Oni you said you saw."

"So we can't kill Nuckee Duckee...maybe," The Majin added after a minute. "How's it do against magic ****?"

Predictably the details on the Nuckalevee -- Baric in particular -- were difficult to process.

All the same however, Ishtar knew it was ever the better option to offer the truth, in situations like these, over honeyed words. They needed to understand that what they were walking into was not simply another battle quickly fought and ended -- though one could never be truly sure, with this group -- but stood a legitimate chance of being the last thing they accomplished this side of the veil. Of course ... those trinkets proved such to be ultimately inconsequential. Of course, the chances of recovering mentally, should one come back after being killed by a Nuckalevee were ... slim to none.

To die so slowly, and absolutely ... there was only so much a psyche could take.

Ishtar had seen that, too.

When the others asked what might be done, and whether or not it a Nuckalevee could be killed however ... she could only shake her head.

"As to what can be done, and whether or not Baric can be killed ? I assume damaging Baric until he is incapable of pursuit is more than likely probable. Death may too, be possible ... presuming we can strip from him whatever it is that serves as his 'heart'; but in all honesty ? I have no idea beyond showing it as much mercy as it would us."

Which is to say, none.

"As for Teshub ? Oathbreaker. Thief. He stole the weapon -- itself considered to be its own entity -- when he abdicated his duties as the Jailer of HIFL. What he has done since that time, and how strong he is ? I do not know.

"Though ... I believe you have met, Parsley ... or at the least you have seen the handiwork of Bloodwrath." Ishtar said, giving her a glance. "It was the Oni, and that cursed weapon, that ended up costing Sarada her hand."

And a branching path heading downward towards Ishtar’s kin:

When the path split, and the two groups were required to separate, Ishtar made a point to offer her telepathic network to those present to better keep them informed of debopments without running the risk of falling into enemy hands.

Without a word then, the Oni slipped down the corridor that held at the end of it Marduk, Teshub, Bloodwrath ... and Baric the Brute.

[Tami]

"Halt." Cthylla suddenly remarked in Dashs direction. "....Proceed only if we you are prepared or have the means to render restorative assistance to this lifeforms upon their release. Simply opening their cocoon may render them closer to death then you may realize."

Cthylla turns to the capsules and expands her void perception in and around each, peering at them, inside them....seeing what is broken and what needs to be fixed. Observing their dimming existence.

Halfway between the pods and the computers, Dash stops and looks back at Cthylla. "If'n you can heal them, then sure. But we can't take too long, someone might catch us here an try'n stop us."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"Halt." Cthylla suddenly remarked in Dashs direction. "....Proceed only if we you are prepared or have the means to render restorative assistance to this lifeforms upon their release. Simply opening their cocoon may render them closer to death then you may realize."

Cthylla turns to the capsules and expands her void perception in and around each, peering at them, inside them....seeing what is broken and what needs to be fixed. Observing their dimming existence.

The Promethean will live, they are naturally durable, but won’t be worth much in a fight.

The Nagaian is an unknown, but it looks like she is capable of fighting, though she is weak.

The half-saiyan seems able to continue the fight though.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

The computers are complicated, but those familiar with Jinzi and his works can probably figure them out. None are password locked. Those familiar with Incenio’s labs would remark these are somewhat similar.

The two dozen pods serve as stasis and holding cells, alongside experimental holding.

Fifteen are dead outright. Experimental surgery evident on them. Two Namekian’s, three Arcosian, three Saiyan, one human, one Kitsuna, one Yadratian GP Officer, one Oni, one Threshling, one Majin, and one unknown race.

Of the seven remaining, four are empty, but three hold those still alive. One is a Promethean, though he’s in a bad way. Another is a serpentine female humanoid, a Nagaian, who’s hurt but not as badly, and the last is a Half-Saiyan man in weird uniform. He appears the most stable, though he has clearly been there a while.

The computer wasn't particularly difficult to use; the system was similar to Jinzi's, so Sarada was able to navigate it with only a little difficulty. It helped that there was no password. For someone as smart as The Doctor, that was a stupid mistake.

"Alright, let's see..." she muttered as she looked over everything. According to the computer, there were 24 bodies inside the pods. Four of them were Saiyans; three of those were dead. 15 in total were dead, leaving only 7 still alive. There's no telling what horrors they suffered. It was little wonder, then, that Ochazuke sensed despair and anguish around here.

She sighed heavily and stepped away from the computer for a moment.

Dash calls to Sarada, "Are there any controls over there for these pods? If not, ah might try doin it the Saiyan Way [spoken in a slight jest] an just break it."

She then walks over to see the controls for herself, having spent time in Jinzi's lab for one reason or another, she can see that they look somewhat familiar. .

"Halt." Cthylla suddenly remarked in Dashs direction. "....Proceed only if we you are prepared or have the means to render restorative assistance to this lifeforms upon their release. Simply opening their cocoon may render them closer to death then you may realize."

Cthylla turns to the capsules and expands her void perception in and around each, peering at them, inside them....seeing what is broken and what needs to be fixed. Observing their dimming existence.

Halfway between the pods and the computers, Dash stops and looks back at Cthylla. "If'n you can heal them, then sure. But we can't take too long, someone might catch us here an try'n stop us."

The Promethean will live, they are naturally durable, but won’t be worth much in a fight.

The Nagaian is an unknown, but it looks like she is capable of fighting, though she is weak.

The half-saiyan seems able to continue the fight though.

She walked to each of the pods where she sensed life. The Saiyan, naturally, was in the best shape, though it appeared he had been there the longest. They needed answers, and help in a fight. he was likely the only one who could still fight worth a damn, so he needed to come out first. "Whoever can heal, get ready," she uttered. With that, she walked back to the computer and looked for the controls to open the pods. If she found them, she opened the half-breed's first, then the other survivors' after.

[KingofPie]

"No." Ishtar said, firmly.

"The Rot is simply ... slow." After a moment of pressing forward, the Oni slowed slightly before a sigh echoed down the empty hall. "One supposes there is no reason in hiding what happened to the survivors," she finally said. "Those who survived, had turned to cannibalism. Freshly dead at first, to preserve what little of their 'morality' remained. Once the maggots and rot took hold of the corpses however ... they turned on the weakest of themselves." Though this was not unique. Ishtar had seen much of this on worlds where famine, and drought had stripped the planet of its nourishment.

Yet this was ... different.

"After that ? Baric took his time. First he flayed them, not all the way ... no. They would have bled out, otherwise. Died from exposure. So he would flay a little, and then he would wait and flay some more. From there it was simply a matter of, I assume, what he felt like doing to them. Some he simply trampled to death. Others he slowly dismembered. Starting with the limbs, and only stopping once their will broke and Death granted them mercy. For a select few ... Ah ..." The Oni stopped short, to recall everything exactly as it happened; and only when she was satisfied did she continue.

"There were ten left, in the end. All approximately the same height, weight, and genders of equal number. The 'strongest', I suppose. And then he set to work on them, slowly ... almost as if he cared to do it right." If a Nuckalevee could be considered to possess such a thing as that. "He took a blade, produced from I know hot where, and severed each of their structural appendages ... ribs, really; and pushed them slowly through their emaciated bodies at odd angles to produce what I can only call 'wings'. After he was satisfied, a process that took hours ... he ever so carefully took their organs -- I know not which -- and pulled them through two vertical cuts he made in each of their backs."

Ishtar's stopped again, to catch her breath; and though her voice never rose above its whispered monotone, but if one knew here well they could see she was troubled by her recalling of this, all the same.

"I learned later what they were called ... yet at the time, these 'Sanguinous Sparrows' Baric created; for at the time what kept my attention was not the ... grotesque masterpieces, but how the victims never once uttered a word in protest through pain one can hardly imagine ... They only ever blinked."

The state they must have been in, mentally ... all at the hands of a single entity. It was a mercy there were only ever three.

"Well, he wins points for creativity, Sasheem supposes but seems like it takes forever," the Majin yawned, getting tired just thinking about it. "Sasheem woulda just watched 'em scream for a bit, before he vaporized 'em...heh," Sasheem chuckled a little before giving a slight cough. "Y'know, if he hadn't turned over a new leaf and all."

Predictably the details on the Nuckalevee -- Baric in particular -- were difficult to process.

All the same however, Ishtar knew it was ever the better option to offer the truth, in situations like these, over honeyed words. They needed to understand that what they were walking into was not simply another battle quickly fought and ended -- though one could never be truly sure, with this group -- but stood a legitimate chance of being the last thing they accomplished this side of the veil. Of course ... those trinkets proved such to be ultimately inconsequential. Of course, the chances of recovering mentally, should one come back after being killed by a Nuckalevee were ... slim to none.

To die so slowly, and absolutely ... there was only so much a psyche could take.

Ishtar had seen that, too.

When the others asked what might be done, and whether or not it a Nuckalevee could be killed however ... she could only shake her head.

"As to what can be done, and whether or not Baric can be killed ? I assume damaging Baric until he is incapable of pursuit is more than likely probable. Death may too, be possible ... presuming we can strip from him whatever it is that serves as his 'heart'; but in all honesty ? I have no idea beyond showing it as much mercy as it would us."

Which is to say, none.

"With this group? Definitely not gonna be a problem," the Majin added briefly.

"As for Teshub ? Oathbreaker. Thief. He stole the weapon -- itself considered to be its own entity -- when he abdicated his duties as the Jailer of HIFL. What he has done since that time, and how strong he is ? I do not know.

"Though ... I believe you have met, Parsley ... or at the least you have seen the handiwork of Bloodwrath." Ishtar said, giving her a glance. "It was the Oni, and that cursed weapon, that ended up costing Sarada her hand."



When the path split, and the two groups were required to separate, Ishtar made a point to offer her telepathic network to those present to better keep them informed of debopments without running the risk of falling into enemy hands.

Without a word then, the Oni slipped down the corridor that held at the end of it Marduk, Teshub, Bloodwrath ... and Baric the Brute.

Sasheem mentally took in the Oni's words on the one remaining foe, Teshub. The evil sword sounded cool but he'd obviously be an issue as well....for them. Sasheem was sure he could handle an old man, a thief, and rotting centaur. ...With a little help. Still perhaps now...much as he hated to admit it, may not quite be the time for raucous boasting outloud. He'd save that once they earned their victory.

"Hey, jabrONI?" Sasheem began to ask. "Think Sasheem should maybe sneak through the floor and scout ahead? He can send you losers back a report through the mind-thing, right?"

[Sub-Zero MKA]

"No." Ishtar said, firmly.

"The Rot is simply ... slow." After a moment of pressing forward, the Oni slowed slightly before a sigh echoed down the empty hall. "One supposes there is no reason in hiding what happened to the survivors," she finally said. "Those who survived, had turned to cannibalism. Freshly dead at first, to preserve what little of their 'morality' remained. Once the maggots and rot took hold of the corpses however ... they turned on the weakest of themselves." Though this was not unique. Ishtar had seen much of this on worlds where famine, and drought had stripped the planet of its nourishment.

Yet this was ... different.

"After that ? Baric took his time. First he flayed them, not all the way ... no. They would have bled out, otherwise. Died from exposure. So he would flay a little, and then he would wait and flay some more. From there it was simply a matter of, I assume, what he felt like doing to them. Some he simply trampled to death. Others he slowly dismembered. Starting with the limbs, and only stopping once their will broke and Death granted them mercy. For a select few ... Ah ..." The Oni stopped short, to recall everything exactly as it happened; and only when she was satisfied did she continue.

"There were ten left, in the end. All approximately the same height, weight, and genders of equal number. The 'strongest', I suppose. And then he set to work on them, slowly ... almost as if he cared to do it right." If a Nuckalevee could be considered to possess such a thing as that. "He took a blade, produced from I know hot where, and severed each of their structural appendages ... ribs, really; and pushed them slowly through their emaciated bodies at odd angles to produce what I can only call 'wings'. After he was satisfied, a process that took hours ... he ever so carefully took their organs -- I know not which -- and pulled them through two vertical cuts he made in each of their backs."

Ishtar's stopped again, to catch her breath; and though her voice never rose above its whispered monotone, but if one knew here well they could see she was troubled by her recalling of this, all the same.

"I learned later what they were called ... yet at the time, these 'Sanguinous Sparrows' Baric created; for at the time what kept my attention was not the ... grotesque masterpieces, but how the victims never once uttered a word in protest through pain one can hardly imagine ... They only ever blinked."

The state they must have been in, mentally ... all at the hands of a single entity. It was a mercy there were only ever three.







Predictably the details on the Nuckalevee -- Baric in particular -- were difficult to process.

All the same however, Ishtar knew it was ever the better option to offer the truth, in situations like these, over honeyed words. They needed to understand that what they were walking into was not simply another battle quickly fought and ended -- though one could never be truly sure, with this group -- but stood a legitimate chance of being the last thing they accomplished this side of the veil. Of course ... those trinkets proved such to be ultimately inconsequential. Of course, the chances of recovering mentally, should one come back after being killed by a Nuckalevee were ... slim to none.

To die so slowly, and absolutely ... there was only so much a psyche could take.

Ishtar had seen that, too.

When the others asked what might be done, and whether or not it a Nuckalevee could be killed however ... she could only shake her head.

"As to what can be done, and whether or not Baric can be killed ? I assume damaging Baric until he is incapable of pursuit is more than likely probable. Death may too, be possible ... presuming we can strip from him whatever it is that serves as his 'heart'; but in all honesty ? I have no idea beyond showing it as much mercy as it would us."

Which is to say, none.

Parsley understood.

The final victims did nothing but accept death as a mercy, no matter how gruesome and violently painful it was. No matter how prolonged. No matter how much Baric enjoyed their last moments on this mortal coil. No matter what, they did not scream, did not struggle, did not fight. There came a point in a person's suffering where the cold grip of death was more inviting than the warm embrace of a mother. The final breath brought with it the end of the pain, the end of the horror, the end of suffering.

Parsley understood. The others may not, but she did.

As she continued to listen to the best means of defeating him, her fist reflexively clenched and relaxed. Now was not the time to get trapped in her memories. "Hit him until he can't get up," she repeated to get the general idea. "As good a plan as any, I guess."

"As for Teshub ? Oathbreaker. Thief. He stole the weapon -- itself considered to be its own entity -- when he abdicated his duties as the Jailer of HIFL. What he has done since that time, and how strong he is ? I do not know.

"Though ... I believe you have met, Parsley ... or at the least you have seen the handiwork of Bloodwrath." Ishtar said, giving her a glance. "It was the Oni, and that cursed weapon, that ended up costing Sarada her hand."

"So, he's the one." She recalled Sarada recounting that it was an Oni who cursed her and cost her her hand. This was that Oni. Sadly, Sarada would be unable to gain revenge, but Parsley would in her stead. "His sword is cursed. Sarada said she grabbed it and that was when he had her. Don't let it touch you, above all else. And do not grab it. He also has intangibility, so take note of that."

Beyond that, there wasn't much else to be said. She, unfortunately, didn't have much information on him. Sarada didn't fight him long enough to get a better measure of him. Though, her description did offer one last bit of intel. "The magic in the sword, I believe, is blood magic. Not entirely sure, but that's what it sounded like."

When the path split, and the two groups were required to separate, Ishtar made a point to offer her telepathic network to those present to better keep them informed of debopments without running the risk of falling into enemy hands.

Without a word then, the Oni slipped down the corridor that held at the end of it Marduk, Teshub, Bloodwrath ... and Baric the Brute.

Wordlessly, Parsley followed after Ishtar.

[grampagen]

Amazingly, the CC brand communicators Jinzi gave them so long ago still works, even in this strange and unnerving place.

How fortuitous. The signal was received with that familiar sound, and yet no call went out. No more words than necessary. But regardless...

Across this familiar span, Ochazuke used Kyokushin Keihatsu, to trace Jinzi Pantaloon's familiar call signal from one receiver to the next, taking a mental count of each member of those who received the signal; and with it, a physical beacon of each of their locations where the comm line fell. One...two...three...

"Hey, Hey!" A voice whispered back....but not from the communicator.

It was the white mini-etrina, sitting proud and smug on his shoulder perch. "Reporting for duty chief, in case you need a little magic on this path."

"..." as he completed the count, a low grumbling came from within shuddering shoulders. Ochazuke lowered his head briefly before turning his attention to the little Channel Focus "...thankfully your master saw fit to grant us the largest portion of her powers," he said dryly, casting his eyes down the long winding corridors, "well met, for whatever twisted thing may come."

*snip*

The Path to the Doctor:

Down an endless line of similar corridors, the feeling of this path is one of purposeful confusion. If not for Nail’s Artifact, the way would have been lost, but it’s steady light cleaved through the deception and leads them truly.

Until a path separates. Forward to the Doctor:


*snip*

And a branching path heading downward towards Ishtar’s kin:

*snip*

Despite the array of contorted schemes, the winding paths, and his concealment across time, space, and reality itself, the will of the Namekian Elder saw them through. Elder Nail was true to his word. Impressive.

However, it would be almost too easy. The darkness at their back leading below into a particularly hellish aspect left a particular blot of doubt in his mind.

"Have we outflanked him, then? Or has he been the one to divide us?"

The lifeblood of this place coursed within its very walls, the ancient factories of the First Engineers. His sense had brushed against its characteristic energy before, this mechanical impulse to build, to change, to recreate for its own sake.

Muhen Seikai Keihatsu, he interfacing with it more directly this time, and like laying his hand upon Tao'ro's ancient web, traced that lingering presence as it coursed to determine the path of its return towards the heart of this facility and anything that physically brushed against it.

"Gaaao....." Erosa let out a edged growl at the stretched hallway before them, then turned her head back and forth before looking to Ochazuke. "Ocha, want me to scout ahead ero? I'll watch whats just up ahead so we don't get ambushed ero."

"Everything here is by his design," he sighed, before pivoting towards Erosa. A small smile crossed his face. "But there will be no accounting for instinct, will there? See it done."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

How fortuitous. The signal was received with that familiar sound, and yet no call went out. No more words than necessary. But regardless...

Across this familiar span, Ochazuke used Kyokushin Keihatsu, to trace Jinzi Pantaloon's familiar call signal from one receiver to the next, taking a mental count of each member of those who received the signal; and with it, a physical beacon of each of their locations where the comm line fell. One...two...three...



"..." as he completed the count, a low grumbling came from within shuddering shoulders. Ochazuke lowered his head briefly before turning his attention to the little Channel Focus "...thankfully your master saw fit to grant us the largest portion of her powers," he said dryly, casting his eyes down the long winding corridors, "well met, for whatever twisted thing may come."



Despite the array of contorted schemes, the winding paths, and his concealment across time, space, and reality itself, the will of the Namekian Elder saw them through. Elder Nail was true to his word. Impressive.

However, it would be almost too easy. The darkness at their back leading below into a particularly hellish aspect left a particular blot of doubt in his mind.

"Have we outflanked him, then? Or has he been the one to divide us?"

The lifeblood of this place coursed within its very walls, the ancient factories of the First Engineers. His sense had brushed against its characteristic energy before, this mechanical impulse to build, to change, to recreate for its own sake.

Muhen Seikai Keihatsu, he interfacing with it more directly this time, and like laying his hand upon Tao'ro's ancient web, traced that lingering presence as it coursed to determine the path of its return towards the heart of this facility and anything that physically brushed against it.



"Everything here is by his design," he sighed, before pivoting towards Erosa. A small smile crossed his face. "But there will be no accounting for instinct, will there? See it done."

Within it’s ancient structure, Ochazuke can sense through this connection. Through it, the Doctor and three of the Dreadnaught hearts can be sensed and located, the path well indicated by Nail’s Artifact ahead of them.

He also senses through this connection 37 of the First Race ‘Hound’ robots the Doctor has reprogrammed ahead of them, and 2 larger mechanical apparatus.

[grampagen]

As the conversation continued between Ishtar and Parsley, Zaofan was quiet. Not only was there a lump in his throat, there were also butterflies in his stomach twitching at the mention of that extensive, corpulent rot, causing him to reflexively constrict his nostrils.

His voice little more than a hoarse whisper at this point, he began to hum the first tune that came to mind. Something warm, from the hearth of rustic ovens, to soothe his thoughts.

Parsley understood.

The final victims did nothing but accept death as a mercy, no matter how gruesome and violently painful it was. No matter how prolonged. No matter how much Baric enjoyed their last moments on this mortal coil. No matter what, they did not scream, did not struggle, did not fight. There came a point in a person's suffering where the cold grip of death was more inviting than the warm embrace of a mother. The final breath brought with it the end of the pain, the end of the horror, the end of suffering.

Parsley understood. The others may not, but she did.

As she continued to listen to the best means of defeating him, her fist reflexively clenched and relaxed. Now was not the time to get trapped in her memories. "Hit him until he can't get up," she repeated to get the general idea. "As good a plan as any, I guess."

The storied history of torture was a poor prospect, and he would not imbibe such prolonged suffering if he could.

Blighted scraps of a bad harvest.

Yet it the thoughts of perpetual rot and all that clung to it that kept hammering at Zaofan's thoughts. The smell of death likewise stuck in his craw.

One bad apple ruins the bunch.

"...good plan," he managed to sqeeze out. "I'll be sure to -urk!"

And then you find the bad one at the bottom.

"...maintain distance..."

"So, he's the one." She recalled Sarada recounting that it was an Oni who cursed her and cost her her hand. This was that Oni. Sadly, Sarada would be unable to gain revenge, but Parsley would in her stead. "His sword is cursed. Sarada said she grabbed it and that was when he had her. Don't let it touch you, above all else. And do not grab it. He also has intangibility, so take note of that."

Beyond that, there wasn't much else to be said. She, unfortunately, didn't have much information on him. Sarada didn't fight him long enough to get a better measure of him. Though, her description did offer one last bit of intel. "The magic in the sword, I believe, is blood magic. Not entirely sure, but that's what it sounded like."


Wordlessly, Parsley followed after Ishtar.

When the conversation shift to the matter of Oni and magical weapons, though the threat was relatively in kind and no less dire, Zaofan was somewhat relieved.

Then the thought, it just...popped in there.

Lutefisk on a hot summer's day.

His face contorted with an audible retch. Still, now that the matter was settled, Zaofan managed to keep it in.

"...got it. T-thanks for the tip, Parsley." Slowly the greenish pallor faded from his face, and a more serious expression fell on the chef's face. He point to his eyes, then folded his hand into a firm thumbs up. "Sounds like up close is going to be a challenge...so for my part I'll be playing the long game. If nothing else, I'll have you covered!"

[bruceleegreyhulk]

Praxat follows Parsley's group.

[grampagen]

Within it’s ancient structure, Ochazuke can sense through this connection. Through it, the Doctor and three of the Dreadnaught hearts can be sensed and located, the path well indicated by Nail’s Artifact ahead of them.

He also senses through this connection 37 of the First Race ‘Hound’ robots the Doctor has reprogrammed ahead of them, and 2 larger mechanical apparatus.

Ochazuke fell silent as the resonate energy within the complex weaved itself through into any number of particularly violent denizens laying in wait. But though he could sense the general shape of these fixed presences, he could not be certain of what they were completely, only that the energies therein.

"Just beyond that bay door we'll have the fight of our ahead of us," he said. He relaid the information as he found it to the rest of the groupm from the three Dreadnought hearts beating within some unknown entities, to the machines of war that patrolled the halls. "Be that as it may, the only way to the doctor is forward."

The moments slowly trickled down as Jinzi drew his counterpart's eye from within the Coldlight outside. If they made a move it would have to be soon and done decisively.

"If Erosa can find any else, so much the better," he said. "Otherwise, we'll have no choice but to take the fight head-on."

[bruceleegreyhulk]

The computer wasn't particularly difficult to use; the system was similar to Jinzi's, so Sarada was able to navigate it with only a little difficulty. It helped that there was no password. For someone as smart as The Doctor, that was a stupid mistake.

"Alright, let's see..." she muttered as she looked over everything. According to the computer, there were 24 bodies inside the pods. Four of them were Saiyans; three of those were dead. 15 in total were dead, leaving only 7 still alive. There's no telling what horrors they suffered. It was little wonder, then, that Ochazuke sensed despair and anguish around here.

She sighed heavily and stepped away from the computer for a moment.









She walked to each of the pods where she sensed life. The Saiyan, naturally, was in the best shape, though it appeared he had been there the longest. They needed answers, and help in a fight. he was likely the only one who could still fight worth a damn, so he needed to come out first. "Whoever can heal, get ready," she uttered. With that, she walked back to the computer and looked for the controls to open the pods. If she found them, she opened the half-breed's first, then the other survivors' after.

Althena raises her hand." I will do my best to mend their wounds." Althena said. Althena then says a prayer to the ones that are dead and gets ready to use her healing ability on the ones still alive.

[MrSandman]

"..." as he completed the count, a low grumbling came from within shuddering shoulders. Ochazuke lowered his head briefly before turning his attention to the little Channel Focus "...thankfully your master saw fit to grant us the largest portion of her powers," he said dryly, casting his eyes down the long winding corridors, "well met, for whatever twisted thing may come."

"Your the group in the most danger, of course master knows to send only the best." W-Etrina gloated. "We'll give this alt jinzi a good kick in the pants."

"Everything here is by his design," he sighed, before pivoting towards Erosa. A small smile crossed his face. "But there will be no accounting for instinct, will there? See it done."

The id bobbed her head in compliance and dropped to her stealthy prowl stance, darting ahead and vanishing into her hunter/killer state as soon as she was able. Now she stalked the halls ahead, for a sign of prey.