Dragonball M, Chapter 4: Kidnapping! Invasion! A new Threat Strikes First!

[Yun Lao]

Warmblood splashed across the ground, briefly staining the earth scarlet matching the rivulets of crimson that snaked down his body. Long, ragged gasps escaped his lips, his lung aflame in search of oxygen. His body ached and any attempt to dreg up the energy to fight back was an arduous ordeal.

His opponent was letting him catch his breath, to regain what little power he could muster again before crushing him back down. It was a demoralizing tactic, but one he had been subjected to countless times at this point. Descending slowly, he once again took note of the creature; bipedal insectoid clad in a simple changshan despite its violet exoskeleton, its head was split in two by a recess that encircled it, allowing countless glowing eyes to peer out in all three hundred and sixty degrees. Its mouth was obscured by beard-like tendrils that resembled fern leaves, although he knew that beneath it was mouth like a lamprey's and what appeared to be a pointed jaw was instead two large mandibles tucked into place. It appeared to have two sets of arms, although for the fight so far, it had only used its top two, while the lower two had been locked into a gesture of prayer.

"Ogatan-san," The creature said, its words a mixture of telepathy and hissing-like vocals that combined together to form a disjointed approximation of human speech, "Perhaps it would be wise to step out of the pond?"

"Nah, I'm good... I fucking love the feeling of blood in my pants..."

"It is fortunate I have come to understand your earthling "sarcasm," lest my opinion of you would have dropped."

"Good, now I can focus on the more complicated insults."

"I would prefer not, Ogatan-san, but I know you will anyway..."

"Finally! We've come to a mutual under..." Leaping from the bloody pond, he launched a knee towards the insectoid's head, only for his attacking limb to be seized by a hand of long, spindly fingers, "...standing... ****." He knew that the creature's arms, much like its mandibles, held a secret, one that he would witness in action... again. What were its arms, were actually each a pair of segmented limbs. Splitting into four, with one still holding firm to his leg, he prepared himself for the barrage of punches by the remaining three.

"That's enough you two." The insectoid instantly released him, threatening to have him plunge back into the pond were he not able to maneuver his descent back onto dry land. Hovering above the two was the angel, Islay, "I suspect King Yemma is close to having a brain aneurysm from all the stress we've been causing him."

It was true, now that he looked around. The wispy clouds that were the souls of the dead were either cowering or watching in display as their skirmish had done some damage... well, it was pretty much all him, "Couldn't you find a better place other than HFIL?"

"I've told you countless times, child, but HFIL is one of the few places where you can benefit from this training."

It sure didn't feel like he had progressed... then again his sense of time had grown distorted since he had fought the Beast God. After finding himself back at the Lookout, somehow, he had been spirited away by the angel to do this. According to the angel, his ability to consume energy had become a crutch, especially in the last few years he had spent as Rex, and here in the afterlife where he found it difficult to draw forth such replenishing energy, there was very little doubt that she was right. Combined with her choice of retainer and he had been on the backfoot when it came to sparring matches from the get-go with little to show for it.

"So, what now?" He asked, having grown a little frustrated upon reflection.

"Well..." The angel began, a smile crossing her lips, "I say we put that training to the test..."

[grampagen]

"The first time is always nerve-wracking," Parsley said without turning around. "At least you're not dead to experience it. Remaining here is not desirable."

She was thankful she got to skip the line before she served her time in Hell. Having to stand in the eternally long line to await her sentence would have been a nightmare.

Across several cultures, several structures of the afterlife had been written, and be it through visions shaped by faith or madness, no two accounts had been alike. To see the procession of souls linger before pearled gates lined before a great, walled palace lined with lists of bureaucracy, it was startling to see how somehow all of them were true at the same time.

"Hmm," he replied, scanning the hallways for a long moment. "It would not do to linger among the lost or the damned."

To his sensibilities, these spirits, with their shapes reflecting the varying integrity of the remaining personalities of who they had once been in life was a rather strange thing to see.

Shed utterly of ego, of the frailties of the mortal shell, what dreams may come at the end of it all?

Truly, the gravitas of these manifest shapes revealed in an instant an illuminate answer that had confounded sages and the faithful, one they had had sought since sapience beckoned the question, 'why?'.

Yet as Ochazuke had immersed his senses into contemplate the deepest inner mysteries of life and the world beyond, it had been plain to see he, in his own way, had been briefly looking for a particular something else on the way in.

"And I figure we should ask you and Shek'hinah some questions about a few parties we intend on confronting at some point in the future," she added. "The leak coming out of Hell is more pressing. A possession has happened twice. How is this happening and what can be done about it?"

"Our friend Totoma had been revived, but by some means he'd decided not to return until his work here is finished. In the meantime..."

To punctuate Parsley's point, Ochazuke presented Sihn with a certain, particular object he'd acquired months ago. The Soul Splicer.

"One Simon Battersea used this to escape his fate, through Totoma. And that is only the incident which we know of. Perhaps you could explain what this thing is and how widespread our mutual problem has become."

[Monstrous Bird of Qin, Ou Ki]

Her power?! Just Saiyan just touched her forehead and her power was gone! And he was transforming into Super Saiyan and was about to blast her!

When he said that what he was going to do would kill her unless she herself transformed, she didn't expect it to be so dire. How was she supposed to survive?!

Rutaba's eyes bulged out of her head as the blue beam of blazing power hurtled toward her at speed. It was coming at her too fast for her to dodge. She had no choice but to face it head on. But how? Just Saiyan was so much stronger than her. She had gotten stronger during her training, but she was still so far behind. If I had been stronger, then I wouldn't be dead in the first place.



If she hadn't been so weak back then, then that guy's attack wouldn't have overwhelmed hers. She would still be alive and probably would have gotten strong enough to beat Tundra all by herself. Instead, she was, she was dead, and she was about to die again!

"NOOOOOO!"

Everything was tinted blue. Her teeth gritted together as her fists clenched. A burst of power the likes of which she had never felt in her entire life overtook her. It was like a dam bursting, unleashing a torrent of pent up water onto an unsuspecting environment. She felt renewed, reinvigorated. She felt so powerful.

Just as the Kamehameha wave was about to collide into her, her hands thrust out and up. The beam careened upward, where it eventually hit a tree and exploded. There, standing at the original point of impact, was Rutaba.

As he released his attack, Totoma was filled with apprehension. As focused as he was on getting Rutaba up to speed, it was impossible to kill that tiny voice in the back of his mind that always brought up the worst-case-scenario. Of course, this attack wouldn't be enough to vaporize her, and he could... probably do something to save her if things went wrong.

Maybe.

However, it turned out that those fears were unfounded. Over the glare of the Kamehameha, he saw Rutaba's expression go blank for a moment, and, more importantly... sense her ki begin to stir--and rise. Just before the blast hit, her ki spiked, as did her hair, and immediately she redirected the attack's course up and away. A poor, innocent tree exploded some distance away.

Heh, she did it. And she did it before the attack even reached her. She really had been just on the cusp of it, hadn't she? Not bad, Rutaba... not bad at all.

Totoma descended, grinning like a madman, and landed in front of her. "Heh, you did good. How's it feel?"

Physically, he knew the answer--broiling emotions, raging, seemingly endless power bursting from within, and... just a feeling of stress. Honestly, at first, being a Super Saiyan wasn't really that pleasant. They'd work on that the next few months, with the 'stay as a super saiyan all the time' method.

What he actually meant was mentally, of course. He could imagine that, like every saiyan, she'd always dreamed and fantasized about becoming a Super Saiyan--even more-so after it was revealed to be more than a legend--but had probably never seriously thought she'd ever achieve it. There seemed to be a strain of thought among most saiyans that the known Super Saiyans were... special, in some way.

Talent varied, yeah, and all of the saiyans, pure and hybrid, he was close to were incredible in that respect, but even the most humble, he believed, could become a legend with enough focus, hard work, and the... spark to actually force the transformation. And Rutaba was anything but 'humble' in terms of talent.

...

Hm, actually, all this had given him an idea of how to use that "forbidden technique" in a more beneficial way. hehe.

[Monstrous Bird of Qin, Ou Ki]

After being sent away by Lord Salamech, 'Totoma' had gone to... entertain himself, in whatever way possible. Being a Saiyan--or something born from one--that entertainment, of course, came in the form of fighting. The Demon Gods were too strong, too busy, and too... dismissive for him to spar with, gainfully, so he had to make do with a lesser fighter.

He chose Devura, a mid-ranked demon lord aiming to join the ranks of the Demon Gods. Compared to those absurd monster, he was a gnat, but when stacked against most mortal fighters, he was an unstoppable engine of destruction. His power actually exceeded his own, by a small margin. Not enough to make leveraging his own unique advantages a moot point, but getting into a direct brawl would... not end well for him.

More importantly, by demon standards, he wasn't a dick. Yeah, still evil, but he enjoyed a good fight and was willing to work with others for mutual benefit. That's why, despite being "mid-level", he was generally considered one of Salamech's more valuable minions, whereas there were a fair few that were stronger, yet considered more expendable due to their unruly, unreasonably ambitious natures.

Lord Salamech appreciated loyalty, whether it was born out of fear, self-interest, or more... genuine feelings.

This time, the spar was just about dead even. Naturally, Devura held the physical advantage, but 'Totoma's' psychic abilities allowed him to foresee and counter his partner's strikes before he really even acted himself. He was so 'on point' today that, amusingly, Devura actually seemed to be getting frustrated.


"Damn. That. Accursed. Fore. Sight!" yelled the Demon Lord as he swung at 'Totoma' with a deadly transmuted blade, each swing punctuated by a single word. 'Totoma' danced around the swings, his keen psychic senses having foreseen their trajectories well in advance.


Totoma chuckled. "Too predictable. Come on, I can see you coming a million seconds away!" Okay, more like... 3 or 4 seconds, but still.

Growling, Devura withdrew and dispelled his sword. Clenching his fists, his reddish-black aura burst into existence and flared. His power flared with it, and 'Totoma' realized, quickly, what his plan was. Yeah, he'd just go for broke and overwhelm him with sheer physical superiority. And he didn't have the time to gain some distance so he could play keep-away.

...****.

Soon enough, Devura burst forth, launching a devastating flurry of super-speed punches and kicks. 'Totoma' managed to dodge, block, or counter... most, but Devura was attacking at such a rate that he had to pick and choose which of his precog's warnings he heeded, instead of just responding to all of them. While those decisions were split-second, the need to deliberate still slowed his reactions a bit. Though it was still better than not having it at all, since he could at least limit the hits that cleanly hit to the ones that wouldn't cause too much damage.

Still, it was getting kind of annoying. Taking a few hits while he focused his concentration, Totoma's form disappeared, reappearing a fair distance from Devura, and behind him. This would give him enough time to get in an attack of his own. He cupped his hands, then drew them back. Ki and telekinetic energy began pooling between his palms, creating an... odd light-to-dark purple ball there.

"Kame..."

He channeled more ki and telekinetic energy into the ball, and it began to vibrate.

"Hame..."

As he channeled even more energy into it, small rays of light began emanating from the ball. The very air around him seemed to vibrate with power.

"HAAAAA!"



He thrust his hands forward, sending forth a purple torrent of ki and telekinetic energies towards Devura. To his credit, Devura turned and saw what was coming, and attempted to get out of the way... but it was a useless gesture. While the telekinetic aspect of this Kamehameha variation was mostly meant to compact the ki and increasing its 'oomph', it also had an amusing secondary effect.

Namely, it would pull in anything that got too close to the beam, meaning that anything other than giving it a wide berth would result in being pulled into the beam itself. It was a simple, but nasty little trick he'd developed recently. It was a far more elegant and useful variation of the technique Eva had taught him years ago than the 'full boar' Kamehameha that fake used. Hmph, what use was increasing the power of a technique without increasing the accuracy!?

Devura screamed as he was pulled into the beam and launched over the horizon. When it impacted... wherever, it exploded with terrific force. Probably killing a bunch of demons that were just minding their own business in the wrong place at the wrong time. Whatever... they were demons. Not anything worth crying over.

Totoma followed, discovering Devura in a huge crater, alive but... rather fucked up. He looked down upon him with a smug grin.

"What... the hell... was that?" asked his foe.

"A successful deployment, that's what. Ki interlaced with telekinesis... pulls in the opponent unless they waste energy making a huge dodge," he said. Most fighters preferred to use the least energy possible dodging, so... it played against the trained instincts of most martial artists.

Devura was silent for a moment, then erupted in riotous laughter. "Simple... but deadly. Fine, I recognize this defeat. What does that make?"

"333 Wins, 333 Losses."

"...an auspicious record. We're quite evenly matched."

"For now."

Devura grinned. "Yes... for now."

That smirk told Totoma that Devura was planning something... he did wonder what, exactly, it was, but it wasn't too much of a concern. If he were planning something stupid like trying to overthrow the Dark King, then, ah, well, it'd suck, but he'd have to find a new training partner. Lord Salamech encouraged plotting amongst his minions, but not plotting against him. He'd humiliate anyone that tried and then kill them.

Totoma was about to respond to Devura when he felt a... pressure behind him. Turning, he saw that one of the Demon Gods had snuck up on him. Frustratingly, he knew that it was a demon god, but given that he had been, until now, completely blown off by these *******, he didn't know their name or... anything about them.

Well, other than that they were incredibly powerful, incredibly arrogant, and had a skin color that made him think of blueberries.

...

God, he wished blueberries grew in this place. He didn't need to eat, but he would kill for a tasty blueberry pie. Maybe he could sneak out of the Demon World and trick that Zaofan his 'fake' had befriended into cooking him a pile of delicious blueberry p--

"You seem to be zoning out, mortal. Did you hear what I said?" The Demon God looked down on him with a disdainful, slightly angry expression.

"Er, no, sorry, I... was simply in awe of your presence, Oh Demon God."

"Hmph. You know your place. Good. I said that Lord Salamech has respectfully requested your presence. I suggest you make haste." With that, the Demon God simply... vanished. Totoma wasn't sure whether it had teleported or just sped away, because he couldn't sense the damned thing at all.

Oh, so his break was over. Great. Except not. "...ok. Welp, you heard 'em, Dark King's calling and I have to answer..."

Or else.

"Best to not keep the Dark King waiting."

"Yeah. Take care," said Totoma, as he took off towards Salamech's central citadel. He wondered what task he would be given this time? Well, he'd find out shortly...

[grampagen]

"Then it's time to educate them," Parsley responded. "Pants being president and being somewhat involved in our affairs will prove beneficial. The sooner your people are brought up to speed, the better." That was an obvious statement that didn't really need to be said. But at the same time, it did. By his own admission, Eldfen allowed humanity an easy enough life to compel them to grow complacent with that life. As such, they were weak and helpless, unlike many other races who could easily defend themselves while their champions were absent. The sooner that was rectified, the better.

"If your people are complacent, bringing them up to speed about dangers and state of the galaxy and universe at large will put a necessary scare in them. From there, you should pick the most capable fighters and train them in the techniques you and Zaofan have learned from this Master of Masters. That should suffice for now, I figure. Tatenen II is a world within Vaikuntha that allowed for a year of training in a single day. It's where Sarada and I trained a few months ago. That will give you time to train these fighters you would otherwise not have."

The entire race didn't need to be up to snuff. After all, not everyone could be a warrior. Even in Saiyan culture, there were some who had no taste for fighting. They were few and far between, but they did exist.

Parsley took the book with an appreciative nod. "Impressive, and appreciated.

"Pantaloon. He has been away far too long," Ochazuke grunted. "The way things have been moving may be well beyond the scope of even his clever abilities."

Setting his sealed letters in a decidedly archaic vessel, a messenger tube, Ochazuke sealed the end, and stood.

"Outside of Pantaloon and his inner circle, the knowledge of other worlds has not been as widespread as you might think. It was only three years ago that the Earth was forced to confront that fact when The Doctor sent the Fleet of the First Race through our atmosphere," Ochazuke replied. "That was the reason for your sister's brief correspondence with the President alongside the Galactic Patrol."

"Outwardly, I've no doubt it was a sincere gesture to build alliances. But suited to the political mores of a creature obsessed with casting off his chains, well...Alakazah always had the means to turn plain matters into whatever he wished."

It was all so simple, the way Parsley explained it. A necessary scare.

To wit, however, the Saiyan Princess may have misjudged an enduring and rather unfortunate quality of the human experience.

"Suppose that every time one looked into the night sky, they were reminded how they were living second-class lives on their own planet, subject to their overseers?"

Compound that with the interest of three years' time, and how the symbol of their major visionary was destroyed when Capsule Corp had been ransacked by the Threshling Knights, only for him to mysteriously re-emerge after this prolonged absence with a curious reason...the prospect of even Jinzi capturing the vote was precarious at this time.

"Trying to control a thing that won't be is as futile as tightening your grasp over grains of sand. And yet, despite everything there those willing to fight...but only on their terms."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"The first time is always nerve-wracking," Parsley said without turning around. "At least you're not dead to experience it. Remaining here is not desirable."

She was thankful she got to skip the line before she served her time in Hell. Having to stand in the eternally long line to await her sentence would have been a nightmare.





"And I figure we should ask you and Shek'hinah some questions about a few parties we intend on confronting at some point in the future," she added. "The leak coming out of Hell is more pressing. A possession has happened twice. How is this happening and what can be done about it?"

He nods and then pauses, eye glowing faintly.

“Sheki’hinah will be here shortly. It’s better if we’re both here to tell the tale.”

After only a few moments, Sheki’hinah knocks and then enters the room, smiling at them both. She looked tired, though. In fact, Sihn and her both look exhausted and tired.

“A pleasure, Parsley, Ochazuke, to see you both again. I’m just sorry it’s on such......poor tidings.”

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Across several cultures, several structures of the afterlife had been written, and be it through visions shaped by faith or madness, no two accounts had been alike. To see the procession of souls linger before pearled gates lined before a great, walled palace lined with lists of bureaucracy, it was startling to see how somehow all of them were true at the same time.

"Hmm," he replied, scanning the hallways for a long moment. "It would not do to linger among the lost or the damned."

To his sensibilities, these spirits, with their shapes reflecting the varying integrity of the remaining personalities of who they had once been in life was a rather strange thing to see.

Shed utterly of ego, of the frailties of the mortal shell, what dreams may come at the end of it all?

Truly, the gravitas of these manifest shapes revealed in an instant an illuminate answer that had confounded sages and the faithful, one they had had sought since sapience beckoned the question, 'why?'.

Yet as Ochazuke had immersed his senses into contemplate the deepest inner mysteries of life and the world beyond, it had been plain to see he, in his own way, had been briefly looking for a particular something else on the way in.



"Our friend Totoma had been revived, but by some means he'd decided not to return until his work here is finished. In the meantime..."

To punctuate Parsley's point, Ochazuke presented Sihn with a certain, particular object he'd acquired months ago. The Soul Splicer.

"One Simon Battersea used this to escape his fate, through Totoma. And that is only the incident which we know of. Perhaps you could explain what this thing is and how widespread our mutual problem has become."

He nods and palms the splicer.

“Some time back I became aware of.....disturbances....in HFIL. Normally we have Oni, Sheki’hinah’s kin, that watch over and guard the various hells and pocket dimensions that make up HFIL. Sheki’hinah herself presides, making transitions and soul cleaning much easier, and helping set up the afterlife of those good souls as needs be. Before her return we were far less efficient, and it’s because of her catching up on our back log that....some....oddities have cropped up. Certain personal hells weren’t being guarded, some weren’t even marked on our maps, and some that were no longer held their.....guests.”

[Sub-Zero MKA]

As he released his attack, Totoma was filled with apprehension. As focused as he was on getting Rutaba up to speed, it was impossible to kill that tiny voice in the back of his mind that always brought up the worst-case-scenario. Of course, this attack wouldn't be enough to vaporize her, and he could... probably do something to save her if things went wrong.

Maybe.

However, it turned out that those fears were unfounded. Over the glare of the Kamehameha, he saw Rutaba's expression go blank for a moment, and, more importantly... sense her ki begin to stir--and rise. Just before the blast hit, her ki spiked, as did her hair, and immediately she redirected the attack's course up and away. A poor, innocent tree exploded some distance away.

Heh, she did it. And she did it before the attack even reached her. She really had been just on the cusp of it, hadn't she? Not bad, Rutaba... not bad at all.

Totoma descended, grinning like a madman, and landed in front of her. "Heh, you did good. How's it feel?"

Physically, he knew the answer--broiling emotions, raging, seemingly endless power bursting from within, and... just a feeling of stress. Honestly, at first, being a Super Saiyan wasn't really that pleasant. They'd work on that the next few months, with the 'stay as a super saiyan all the time' method.

What he actually meant was mentally, of course. He could imagine that, like every saiyan, she'd always dreamed and fantasized about becoming a Super Saiyan--even more-so after it was revealed to be more than a legend--but had probably never seriously thought she'd ever achieve it. There seemed to be a strain of thought among most saiyans that the known Super Saiyans were... special, in some way.

Talent varied, yeah, and all of the saiyans, pure and hybrid, he was close to were incredible in that respect, but even the most humble, he believed, could become a legend with enough focus, hard work, and the... spark to actually force the transformation. And Rutaba was anything but 'humble' in terms of talent.

...

Hm, actually, all this had given him an idea of how to use that "forbidden technique" in a more beneficial way. hehe.

Rutaba heard what Totoma, but there was no way she could comprehend it. Rage and fury filled every crevice of her mind, pushing out all rational thought. The power she was feeling was indescribable. She had never felt so strong, so confident! There was no way anyone could beat her!

"Grrrrrrrrrr!!"

Vocado watched from above as the young Saiyanness achieved the transformation. He had never seen it from the outside looking in before. It was more visceral than he anticipated, but Rutaba's current mental state mirrored the emotions he had been feeling when he first transformed years ago.

He quickly descended and landed not too far from them. "Indeed. Very well done."

It didn't seem Rutaba was capable of verbalizing much of anything. "Ah. We should help her calm down," he said to Totoma. "The words are brief, if they exist at all, the first time."

[Sub-Zero MKA]

He nods and then pauses, eye glowing faintly.

“Sheki’hinah will be here shortly. It’s better if we’re both here to tell the tale.”

After only a few moments, Sheki’hinah knocks and then enters the room, smiling at them both. She looked tired, though. In fact, Sihn and her both look exhausted and tired.

“A pleasure, Parsley, Ochazuke, to see you both again. I’m just sorry it’s on such......poor tidings.”

"It's always a pleasure, Sheki'hinah," Parsley greeted in return. She took close note of her haggard state and raised an eyebrow. It mirrored Sihn's. She could only assume that they were both busy cleaning up the disturbance that led to several dead souls escaping to the realm of the living. Such an endeavor was sure to be time and energy consuming.

"You look like you've seen better days," she commented. "I take it whatever this disturbance is is quite demanding?" She wanted to offer her help, but first, she needed to find out what it was first. After all, it made no sense to volunteer for a fight if she didn't know who the opponent was.

He nods and palms the splicer.

“Some time back I became aware of.....disturbances....in HFIL. Normally we have Oni, Sheki’hinah’s kin, that watch over and guard the various hells and pocket dimensions that make up HFIL. Sheki’hinah herself presides, making transitions and soul cleaning much easier, and helping set up the afterlife of those good souls as needs be. Before her return we were far less efficient, and it’s because of her catching up on our back log that....some....oddities have cropped up. Certain personal hells weren’t being guarded, some weren’t even marked on our maps, and some that were no longer held their.....guests.”

She listened to Sihn's brief explanation into the situation and sighed. She knew of the personal Hells those unrepentant evildoers suffered in for the rest of eternity. She herself very nearly found herself in one. There was no way to tell what hers would have been, but she had no reason lose sleep trying to figure it out. Spending a year in HFIL was more than enough for her.

"It's my understanding that there should be a group of Oni that hunt down escaped souls," she said. "I believe.. ah... Nunlil? Is one of these? Was she the only one? If not, why haven't the others been doing their job?"

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"It's always a pleasure, Sheki'hinah," Parsley greeted in return. She took close note of her haggard state and raised an eyebrow. It mirrored Sihn's. She could only assume that they were both busy cleaning up the disturbance that led to several dead souls escaping to the realm of the living. Such an endeavor was sure to be time and energy consuming.

"You look like you've seen better days," she commented. "I take it whatever this disturbance is is quite demanding?" She wanted to offer her help, but first, she needed to find out what it was first. After all, it made no sense to volunteer for a fight if she didn't know who the opponent was.



She listened to Sihn's brief explanation into the situation and sighed. She knew of the personal Hells those unrepentant evildoers suffered in for the rest of eternity. She herself very nearly found herself in one. There was no way to tell what hers would have been, but she had no reason lose sleep trying to figure it out. Spending a year in HFIL was more than enough for her.

"It's my understanding that there should be a group of Oni that hunt down escaped souls," she said. "I believe.. ah... Nunlil? Is one of these? Was she the only one? If not, why haven't the others been doing their job?"

Sihn snorts.

“Quite demanding.”

Sheki’hinah smiled wanly before continuing.
“Nunlil was one of our best, but as you are aware she decided to.....leave her post. We have other hunter Oni, of course, but again we were unaware of Nunlil and several others leaving until much later. Mostly this is in part due to HFIL’s size and a previous lack of personal attention. Not poking at Sihn’s management, but unless you ran it before you wouldn’t really be aware of the minutia involved. Reports can be sparse and generally the Oni were left to tend to their duties by themselves, with no direct oversight. There are near endless personal hells, and mapping them was usually an Oni’s job as they were created for each new soul. Now if an Oni abandons their post and doesn’t say anything about it.......a lot can happen. We think this is a large part of the problem. Lampton as an example has a personal place here that no one knew about until recently, and something else has done a similar slide job in one of the empty hells, making it their own place essentially.”

[Sub-Zero MKA]

"Pantaloon. He has been away far too long," Ochazuke grunted. "The way things have been moving may be well beyond the scope of even his clever abilities."

Setting his sealed letters in a decidedly archaic vessel, a messenger tube, Ochazuke sealed the end, and stood.

"Outside of Pantaloon and his inner circle, the knowledge of other worlds has not been as widespread as you might think. It was only three years ago that the Earth was forced to confront that fact when The Doctor sent the Fleet of the First Race through our atmosphere," Ochazuke replied. "That was the reason for your sister's brief correspondence with the President alongside the Galactic Patrol."

"Outwardly, I've no doubt it was a sincere gesture to build alliances. But suited to the political mores of a creature obsessed with casting off his chains, well...Alakazah always had the means to turn plain matters into whatever he wished."

It was all so simple, the way Parsley explained it. A necessary scare.

To wit, however, the Saiyan Princess may have misjudged an enduring and rather unfortunate quality of the human experience.

"Suppose that every time one looked into the night sky, they were reminded how they were living second-class lives on their own planet, subject to their overseers?"

Compound that with the interest of three years' time, and how the symbol of their major visionary was destroyed when Capsule Corp had been ransacked by the Threshling Knights, only for him to mysteriously re-emerge after this prolonged absence with a curious reason...the prospect of even Jinzi capturing the vote was precarious at this time.

"Trying to control a thing that won't be is as futile as tightening your grasp over grains of sand. And yet, despite everything there those willing to fight...but only on their terms."

Parsley would readily admit that she hadn't spoken to any normal humans since the family she murdered years ago and the waiter she threatened to murder. Thus, she would be the first to admit that she was thoroughly out of touch with the people that inhabited that planet. She knew of Eldfen's machinations, but wasn't aware of the ill effects it had on the human race outside of the obvious and blatant. To only be secondhand citizens on their own world; it was a sad existence that many didn't even realize they were living.

The mind of a human was, evidently, very different from a Saiyan. The line of people willing and able to fight for their neighbors and home would have been endless. Yet, if Ochazuke was to be believed, only a handful were willing. On their own terms at that. She didn't know what he was implying, but it made her raise an eyebrow all the same.

"Who are these ones willing to fight?" she pondered. She assumed they were practitioners of these ten martial arts schools she had heard about. If so, then they would suffice for right then.

"As for Jinzi, I have little doubt your people will listen to him. He's the most famous human in the galaxy - possibly universe. I can't imagine what his popularity is here on Earth. Regardless, I can imagine them rallying behind him. And with us vouching for him, that should push him over the top."

She shrugged. She would never pretend to know or understand how Earth politics worked. She assumed they didn't choose their leader by means of a massive fighting tournament, with the winner taking the crown.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Sihn snorts.

“Quite demanding.”

Sheki’hinah smiled wanly before continuing.
“Nunlil was one of our best, but as you are aware she decided to.....leave her post. We have other hunter Oni, of course, but again we were unaware of Nunlil and several others leaving until much later. Mostly this is in part due to HFIL’s size and a previous lack of personal attention. Not poking at Sihn’s management, but unless you ran it before you wouldn’t really be aware of the minutia involved. Reports can be sparse and generally the Oni were left to tend to their duties by themselves, with no direct oversight. There are near endless personal hells, and mapping them was usually an Oni’s job as they were created for each new soul. Now if an Oni abandons their post and doesn’t say anything about it.......a lot can happen. We think this is a large part of the problem. Lampton as an example has a personal place here that no one knew about until recently, and something else has done a similar slide job in one of the empty hells, making it their own place essentially.”

So, not only did Nunlil step down from her post - because of Sarada's ex-pet, undoubtedly - but several other Oni did, as well. That left the hunter corps severely undermanned and unable to keep track of all the souls that potentially could have escaped. That posed a serious problem. Even if they wrangled the rest of the escaped souls, there was very little to stop them or others from slipping through the cracks again.

It sounded like Hell was a complete ****-show. Not only had Lampton made his own personal Hell, but someone else had, too. It spoke poorly to the institution, making Parsley hope Inanna's... improvements would extend to her mother's domain. If there was any place that needed a complete overhaul, it was HFIL.

"What can be done about this? It sounds like this is a manpower issue."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

So, not only did Nunlil step down from her post - because of Sarada's ex-pet, undoubtedly - but several other Oni did, as well. That left the hunter corps severely undermanned and unable to keep track of all the souls that potentially could have escaped. That posed a serious problem. Even if they wrangled the rest of the escaped souls, there was very little to stop them or others from slipping through the cracks again.

It sounded like Hell was a complete ****-show. Not only had Lampton made his own personal Hell, but someone else had, too. It spoke poorly to the institution, making Parsley hope Inanna's... improvements would extend to her mother's domain. If there was any place that needed a complete overhaul, it was HFIL.

"What can be done about this? It sounds like this is a manpower issue."

OT: Nunlil left years ago, FYI. Long before she met Jack.

IC:

“We’re working on that. During their....visit, Nunlil and Jack both offered to help train our other hunter Oni. Trust me, they were quite helpful to the cause. As of right now we have about one thousand hunter Oni, which is two hundred more than we had before my resurrection.”

Sihn nods and pours a drink.

“We have also made a comprehensive list of all Oni who decided to follow Nunlil and Durga and Marduk’s example and leave HFIL without telling anyone. We are currently missing twenty four hunter Oni not counting the ones mentioned above, three general Guard Captain Oni, and one low level administrator Oni. Twenty Eight in total.”

[grampagen]

He nods and then pauses, eye glowing faintly.

“Sheki’hinah will be here shortly. It’s better if we’re both here to tell the tale.”

After only a few moments, Sheki’hinah knocks and then enters the room, smiling at them both. She looked tired, though. In fact, Sihn and her both look exhausted and tired.

“A pleasure, Parsley, Ochazuke, to see you both again. I’m just sorry it’s on such......poor tidings.”

"A pleasure I hadn't reciprocated," Ochazuke said plainly, surveying the Goddess of Death and the Overseer of the Universe.

"You were a scattered essence the last time I saw you, and it seems little better now that you've been returned to your station."

His sharp tone and brusque assessment of their condition held little reverence, for truthfully he had little case to loan it. To know there was no rest nor justice for the dead was a matter that weighted heavily upon his mind.

And in this place in particular, on the threshold of countless lost souls, he felt the burdens of karma welling through the scars that ran through his heart. Those dark memories in particular he could not cast aside.

He nods and palms the splicer.

“Some time back I became aware of.....disturbances....in HFIL. Normally we have Oni, Sheki’hinah’s kin, that watch over and guard the various hells and pocket dimensions that make up HFIL. Sheki’hinah herself presides, making transitions and soul cleaning much easier, and helping set up the afterlife of those good souls as needs be. Before her return we were far less efficient, and it’s because of her catching up on our back log that....some....oddities have cropped up. Certain personal hells weren’t being guarded, some weren’t even marked on our maps, and some that were no longer held their.....guests.”

So, not only did Nunlil step down from her post - because of Sarada's ex-pet, undoubtedly - but several other Oni did, as well. That left the hunter corps severely undermanned and unable to keep track of all the souls that potentially could have escaped. That posed a serious problem. Even if they wrangled the rest of the escaped souls, there was very little to stop them or others from slipping through the cracks again.

It sounded like Hell was a complete ****-show. Not only had Lampton made his own personal Hell, but someone else had, too. It spoke poorly to the institution, making Parsley hope Inanna's... improvements would extend to her mother's domain. If there was any place that needed a complete overhaul, it was HFIL.

"What can be done about this? It sounds like this is a manpower issue."

OT: Nunlil left years ago, FYI. Long before she met Jack.

IC:

“We’re working on that. During their....visit, Nunlil and Jack both offered to help train our other hunter Oni. Trust me, they were quite helpful to the cause. As of right now we have about one thousand hunter Oni, which is two hundred more than we had before my resurrection.”

Sihn nods and pours a drink.

“We have also made a comprehensive list of all Oni who decided to follow Nunlil and Durga and Marduk’s example and leave HFIL without telling anyone. We are currently missing twenty four hunter Oni not counting the ones mentioned above, three general Guard Captain Oni, and one low level administrator Oni. Twenty Eight in total.”

Ochazuke stood quiet, silently observing a distant wall of this strange office. As he listened in, it was as if he was searching the Afterlife for something else that seemed far too distant and continued to elude him.

"Twenty-eight of your hell hunters. A list won't do if we cannot find them. However..."

Popping a capsule, he set a cracked earthenware jug on the table, its top set with...plastic cling film, etched with a red ink seal.

"It so happens that one of your damned escapees had crossed my path," he said, his expression darkening. "She was reticent at first, but after a year in the Room of Spirit and Time, we came to...something of an understanding."

It was about half a year ago, but there had been a dark day when thousands of ghosts bled from the suspended moment of the chamber, as if their tortured screams had at last been silenced when they were released from the one that took them.

For every life she took, day by grueling day, he and Zaofan wrung the stolen souls out of her, until only a single, broken will remained.

"Whoever gave her the opportunity, it is likely Kevi, Widow's Strife knows."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"A pleasure I hadn't reciprocated," Ochazuke said plainly, surveying the Goddess of Death and the Overseer of the Universe.

"You were a scattered essence the last time I saw you, and it seems little better now that you've been returned to your station."

His sharp tone and brusque assessment of their condition held little reverence, for truthfully he had little case to loan it. To know there was no rest nor justice for the dead was a matter that weighted heavily upon his mind.

And in this place in particular, on the threshold of countless lost souls, he felt the burdens of karma welling through the scars that ran through his heart. Those dark memories in particular he could not cast aside.







Ochazuke stood quiet, silently observing a distant wall of this strange office. As he listened in, it was as if he was searching the Afterlife for something else that seemed far too distant and continued to elude him.

"Twenty-eight of your hell hunters. A list won't do if we cannot find them. However..."

Popping a capsule, he set a cracked earthenware jug on the table, its top set with...plastic cling film, etched with a red ink seal.

"It so happens that one of your damned escapees had crossed my path," he said, his expression darkening. "She was reticent at first, but after a year in the Room of Spirit and Time, we came to...something of an understanding."

It was about half a year ago, but there had been a dark day when thousands of ghosts bled from the suspended moment of the chamber, as if their tortured screams had at last been silenced when they were released from the one that took them.

For every life she took, day by grueling day, he and Zaofan wrung the stolen souls out of her, until only a single, broken will remained.

"Whoever gave her the opportunity, it is likely Kevi, Widow's Strife knows."

Sihn leans in, eyes dark. He carefully places his revolver on the desk, eyes never leaving the jar.

“I see. Than perhaps we should ask her.”

Sheki’hinah seems disgusted at her name, no doubt understanding and indeed having already sorted those souls Kevi finally let free.