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

[grampagen]

"Liberated, eh?" Held asked with a smirk, "One of my favorite types of acquisition."



It took a moment for the Nevadian to register that he was being spoken to. The display of combat prowess the two had displayed was positively breathtaking. The two had managed to evolve their skills in such a short time, to the point that they might as well have been different fighters compared to the duo Held had fought alongside a year ago.

Oh. Right. I should say something.

The Nevadian rubbed his head nervously as his exhausted ally rose to meet him.

"Would you believe I lost track of time?" Held asked his friend sheepishly.

It would take some time, getting used to having his hair so short. In the back of his mind, he missed the long braids that adorned his head....If nothing else, they kept his skull warm.

Held considered his response to Zaofans query. His first instinct was to tell his great friends of all that transpired: Whis, Vados, his training in the afterlife, and the torment Crazy Horn had inflicted upon him. It would have sounded insane to the universe at large, but stranger things had happened to those he fought alongside.

It also was too much work. Even now, the Nevadian was still tired, the fatigue of his body still making itself known.

He also couldn't resist being a smart alek.

"I mean...Open bar, Great food." Held replied with a smile, "I figured if Jack's always so non-nonchalant about dying, I might as well see what it has to offer."

A loud laugh escaped the Nevadians mouth "Although, I think I might have ended up taking the VIP suite, so it's hard to compare."

He shivered slightly as the blistering cold of the locale stroked his head. Of course these two would think to take up training in such conditions.

"But enough about that! It's good to see you both. I'd ask if you've been well, but just taking a look at you answers that. "

Ochazuke looked back and forth between Held and Zaofan, who just shrugged in response.

"Forget Jack for a moment, that guy's been through a lot for a young man," the chef sighed, "the way you and Totoma have been going on about it, seems like you punched your ticket for a luxury cruise, sheesh! Food, liquor..."

Stepping down from the platform as the gravity ceased, the snow that fell on the temple grounds receded by the collected aura of both the military personnel and the on-site trainees, disciplined students all that parted as their teachers stole toward the new arrival.

"...The Judge had you figured all wrong, if you went to Heaven. He owes me big now," Zaofan smirked as he pinched his fingers, "the lucres of justice, how terrifying."

"It was a rigged wager after the incident on Nevada Prime," Ochazuke said, "Last I heard Captain Ulysses made sure his team of Navigators made sure to operate under your name. Every lightyear crossed to other worlds, he would never stop griping about the paperwork you left him. But we'll catch up inside, and get you out of the cold."

_____

Quite opposite to its aesthetic, beneath the lacquerware columns and conjoined intersections that held up the great tiled roof was a rather modern facility. Sections of the live-in facility of the New Dragon Temple seemed far less intimidating than a dojo. Though this was a place of martial education, the walls of the place spartan, it seemed much more like the open residence of the heroes sworn to the code of the old Jianghu, welcoming all, but only those who knew the custom could see what was hidden in plain sight.

At the core within a hearth warming water that coursed through the walls, a great flame that burned without kindling lit by Master Balon himself stood in remembrance of the continuity between his lost order and the new era ushered in by the rediscovery of the Ten Schools.

"Fire, burning with intensity, will lose its substance sooner or later, but the spirit shall endure," Ochazuke said, grim and fatalistic as usual, "It should stand to reason nobody forget."

Since this was a training ground, there was no real hard liquor in the place, the one artifact from the age of priests and monks which became an unspoken law here. However, the tea flowed hot and freely, and Zaofan had always kept the food moving.

"Speaking of not forgetting," the chef said between bites of takuan pickles and rice, "we were looking for you, but when we came back it seems Hilda stole you away. Even wished on the Dragonballs, and Tiamat said you were alive."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Ochazuke and Zaofan listened as Banespell spoke about the world of Amonra, one they'd never encountered on their increasingly frequent travels through the wider universe. Strange that they had nothing but a name, but the Dragon, creature of veils and smoke that he was, had a particular gift for making people forget what impeded him.

That was thousands of years ago. If there was a word they could speak, would Banespell had chosen his path?

But the description of Heka, though it seemed as real to the Forger as it had been seen in his memories, seemed rather abstract until Zaofan leaned in near Ochazuke and muttered into his ear.

"...reversing death, huh? Sounds familiar, in a way, doesn't it?" The chef's felt his fingers at once grow icy and aching in the joints already. "Two of the Master's techniques, with one part of Totoma's from the Zhu Clan, the principles sound similar."

Ochazuke turned his head toward his brother, who pursed his lips, lift his arms over, and point his index fingers towards him. Parsley would recognize this as the closing seal of the Fusion Dance.



It seems Zxu'ro approached Cleos, either by happenstance that had fallen upon the Earth, or by some ancient means of reaching Outer Space. Whatever the case, the Forger remembered it fondly. Ochazuke remained wary, for he knew all to well the dangers of a charismatic with a purpose. The consequences of driving a person to discover power within themselves they had never known, that was a factor the Palatine knew as well as their enemy, for the creature - even before he become Grinthorn - turned that into a weapon, and thereafter twisted it into his all too fickle peace.

Yet there within the hammer, the smallest hint of Heka that remained within it from that day seemed to resonate with Banespell's presence. But it will not become anything on its own...because it cannot. Not without something real to act upon.

So while he was unguarded in his thoughts, he prod the Forger to keep talking, pulling through the myriad of defenses to justify the heinous violence the Ulthan had committed to find something more fundamental to the man.

"But for you, Banespell, it was more than that. You loved her."

He pauses, eyes looking passed them.

“Oh, aye I did. I don’t think I realized it then, but yes. I loved her.”

He motions to a small chain around his neck, where a simple locket sits.

“A last memento of her.”

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

Inanna had caught its scent some time ago; one of the things that had cannibalized her still-warm corpse. So she began to track it, following it deep into tunnels that branched off from the central pit, and away from the safety of her brimstone hovel.

Truth be told, she needed this.

While it had only been for her own benefit, hiding herself down a dead end tunnel she'd further obfuscated with geomancy, she was losing her sanity. Bleak thoughts, and even bleaker realizations gnawed at her incessantly. Of her death... her weakness. Of the how's and why's; and it always boiled down in the end to a simple truth. A gangernous realization that for all her power in life, she was the weakest. Even weaker than the fucking frog. The least equipped to use her power, and despite all her 'training' ; her reimagining. And in many ways that meant despite it all, she was little better than Asha'rah.

"... thank ****."

The first thing she'd vocalized in near a month, but the tremble she felt at the edge of geomantic perception, accompanied by the strengthening of the scent she'd used to track her quarry; was a welcome reprieve. Now she need only catch up, and reclaim what she'd earned. One more step on the path to revival...

Revenge.

Inanna hugged the tunnel wall, carved by some unimaginable force millennia before, and quickened her pace; relying on her 'tremor sense' and sense of smell in what had gone from hazy twilight, to complete darkness. Though resolve became unsteady when the tremors stopped. It seemed to be doing... something, though it didn't take much to infer that it had taken notice of something; and it wasn't long at all before this assumption was confirmed as fact and picked up on its change of direction. Followed by a shriek that shook the tunnels and rattled her soul as scrambled quickly back the way it came- toward her.

Turn back. A furtive voice within her whispered. You're not ready. Inanna nodded to herself, took a step back and pressed close to the tunnel wall. Weak. A voice of reason, and concern in any other situation; but for someone who had been steadily wearing through their own sanity with the repition of such sentiments...

The proverbial straw.

The beast, now very clearly sprinting, shrieked once more; and Inanna stepped out into the center of its path.

From round the bend off in the distance the Oni-that-was felt it slide, claws digging into brimstone and leaving deep gouges... before the sickly glow filled the tunnel and illuminated them both.

Inanna, and her target.

A twisted abomination, rotten from the inside out, eyes long since eaten away the ruination that now bled from them, and a ribcage that had pierced through its gangrenous flesh that had taken on the appearance of a ravenous maw...

A literal Beast of Ruination.

How such a creature had come to exist down here in the depths?

Inanna for her part, stood firm; and when it bellowed once more she responded in kind before surging forward herself to meet the creature halfway.

Acting first, and utilizing the advantage of her size- relative to the beast's own in this cavern- and what abilities were left her, spires of sharp, jagged stone were then summoned one after the other; landing hits to assumed vital points and beneath its fetid claws in a bid to destabilize and bring it down quickly. A winning strategy in most circumstances... But for each blow that ripped through its rotting for, and gangrenous flesh, the Beast recovered just as quickly, with tendrils of Ruination exploding out to 'mend' the damage in its own twisted way; the beast becoming more and more an entity of Ruination than that of tissue, and bone.

And then it happened.

After a blow to its exposed ribs, the beast roared as it was launched into the ceiling, but not before raking its claws across Inanna's 'body'. The contact with its fetid claws scoring her soul and causing her to spasm in pain as she was catapulted down the tunnel.

It had rapidly gone from grim, to dismal; and as Inanna struggled to her feet and looked down at the sickly orange-black sludge that was slowly oozing from her first wounds since dying she knew there was now no turning back from here. Even at full might, that twisted Sword of Damocles had carved through her essence like it was not even there; and without the aid of Ochazuke- that sanctimonious bastard- it would have taken considerable effort to mend the wound. But now? As weak as she was... The Beast died, or she did. With the Ruination festering inside of her however, she wouldn't last long.

Rage and desperation swelling within her, Inanna proceeded to hammer the creature into the ceiling again and again. Each pillar targeting the gaping maw that was its exposed ribs, in a bid to whittle down its weapoints and- hope beyond hope- skewer it so she could easily rip what she knew would be her Arm of Ruination.

Try as she might however, she couldn't land a decisive blow, the Beast rising quicker and quicker as her strength began to falter, and before long it was beginning to awkwardly close the distance between them. One step here, two more there; with Inanna ceding more and more groud in an attempt to distance herself and buy time.

But she knew it was lost.

Her only chance after she suffered injury had been in the opening salvo, and at this point even if she did manage to escape she'd simply rot from the inside out, her soul decaying as the Ruination festered and overwhelmed her... not immediately to be sure, time and again she'd proven the strength of will and soul but weak as she was now. Stripped of everything but geomancy and her natural- or unnatural strength, as it were- what would she do?

Hit it really, really hard.

A voice whispered.

Not the doubter this time, something far more confident. Far more comforting. Punch the **** out of it. Ah yes... Sarada. Her violent little Punch Monkey, with such an infectious ideology: When in doubt, punch it out.

A last ditch to be sure... but what was the alternative? ... Skitter away and rot from the inside out, as the madness that drove you hear ate away at what little there was left, mentally.

She wouldn't... no. Couldn't, give those rooting for her fall, the satisfaction. To say nothing of what would happen if she stayed dead permanently. Too

And she yet had her pounds of flesh to collect.

The woman let slip a chocked laugh, before bowling over from a fit of coughing.

"... punch the ****..."

A strategy fit for a Queen.

Taking a moment to focus through the pain, Inanna summoned several spires to temporarily pin the Beast as it closed the remaining distance, the spires causing the creature to cry out in frustration, hunger, and pain as it was wedged between them. Then she sucked in a sharp breath, and staggered into a sprint, eyes wild and desperare; as the Beast- her beast- wriggled and thrashed in the brimstone prison.

She'd hit this thing so fucking hard, it'd throw her fucking arm up. She had to.

Picking up speed, Inanna pooled her reserves- pulling what scraps she might away from the ruination eating through her- and focused it in her brimstone knuckles; the energy igniting the stone, the glow of it casting long shadows. The thrashing from her target grew more violent however, the tendrils of Ruination that had been spreading through it now eating through the pillars that held and setting a hard limit on how long the Oni-that-was had. Not that it mattered now, committed as she was, this punch win or lose would be her last. What was a few more seconds at the end of your life?

Then all at once it came to a head.

The Beast thrashed upwards exposing its neck and underside, claws gripping the spires that pinned them and kept them open as it began to eat through what remained and Inanna shot her shot.

The most important uppercut of her life.

It hit, the beast howled, and the energy that had been pooled into the knuckles of her fist erupted upwards; the creatures rotting flesh and necrotic tissue doing nothing to stop the energy ripping through. Like a point-blank shotgun blast the explosion ripped the beast in half annihilating Inanna's arm in the process... but that was fine, as the blow had done its job: exposing the arm that had sat firmly in the creatures gut, feeding it Ruination and fueling its hunger.

Ripping it quickly free with trembling fingers, Inanna made use of her reacquired limb to draw the ruination from those ragged gashes across her chest, and back into the arm. Staving off what would have been a rapid decline and demise; but not immediately mending the damage. This simply allowed her a moment's respite, and a chance to slink off and lick her wounds to begin this process- with a new target- again. Of course sometimes, such opportunities were few and far between.

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

An almost imperceptible tremor alerted her to a third presence; and not a split second later the space above her seemed to grow... heavy, before a seemingly massive weight slammed her down against the tunnel floor, pinning her.

"Now now, last thing we need is a full recovery." An unfamiliar voice, with a familiar power source spoke. With little time to process everything given the situation, Inanna focused on the most pertinent: how had she missed their approach? A question that did not go unanswered long, as the air around her began to decrease rapidly in temperature.

Veiled in the Cryomancy of her right arm... it had been little more than child's play to mask both sense, and scent.

Now what was she to do about it? "... gon-na..." Inanna wheezed, sending what dregs she had left into the brimstone below in an attempt to escape.

"What? Kill me? You can't even stand. I will however, be taking that arm."

"N-no..."

"... That so?" The figure started to close, rapidly dropping the temperature down toward absolute zero, even as it turned up the weight being down on her and began to crush her to death. Inanna, rapidly losing consciousness for what would ultimately be the final time could say nothing now. Simply strain, and struggle to think as her trickle of energy hit its limit. But... if what she could sense was accurate. That trickle would be enough.

All she needed to do was...

"Oh no you don't." They grunted, and lurched forward to swipe at the arm clutched weakly in Inanna's talons. Only to fall just shy and befored to retreat with a curse as the ground beneath the Oni-that-was rippled tellingly as she dispersed her Ki in an otherwise pitiful conflagration. But it was enough, the brimstone now weak enough for the weight bearing down on her from above, coupled with the frigid temperature to do the heavy lifting.

With a sound like rolling thunder, the ground buckled and gave way.

It... They, then watched as Inanna, along with her runeforged arm; and the corpse of Beast descended rapidly into the Abyss below.

[grampagen]

He pauses, eyes looking passed them.

“Oh, aye I did. I don’t think I realized it then, but yes. I loved her.”

He motions to a small chain around his neck, where a simple locket sits.

“A last memento of her.”

"Zaofan."

The story of Cleos and Banespell. Perhaps there was some vital clue therein that might, when leveraged, prove to be some answer for the Curse of the Dragon.

If he were to be believed, Ochazuke thought, then whatever she left with him may allow him to better remember himself.

Zaofan slowly went behind Banespell, unspooled the chan, and lay the locket before him on the table...

"...oh, right."

With a gentle caution, the chef slowly pried it open. Ochazuke monitored the Forger before him and the Heka left in his crafting tool. Though it had served as a weapon in his memories, if there was any hint of its effect lingering, perhaps it might do something for Banespell.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"Zaofan."

The story of Cleos and Banespell. Perhaps there was some vital clue therein that might, when leveraged, prove to be some answer for the Curse of the Dragon.

If he were to be believed, Ochazuke thought, then whatever she left with him may allow him to better remember himself.

Zaofan slowly went behind Banespell, unspooled the chan, and lay the locket before him on the table...

"...oh, right."

With a gentle caution, the chef slowly pried it open. Ochazuke monitored the Forger before him and the Heka left in his crafting tool. Though it had served as a weapon in his memories, if there was any hint of its effect lingering, perhaps it might do something for Banespell.

The locket contains two simple images, that of a younger Banespell and Cleos in one, her standing proudly behind him. The other an image of all the Palantine together.

Caladash looks at the two pictures, and his faces frowns. He concentrates, and sweat begins to pool on his brow.

“What……..”

A flare of gold energy from the hammer, Heka, merely a spark, and Ochazuke you are given the idea of placing the hammer gently against Caladah’s forehead.

[grampagen]

The locket contains two simple images, that of a younger Banespell and Cleos in one, her standing proudly behind him. The other an image of all the Palantine together.

Caladash looks at the two pictures, and his faces frowns. He concentrates, and sweat begins to pool on his brow.

“What……..”

A flare of gold energy from the hammer, Heka, merely a spark, and Ochazuke you are given the idea of placing the hammer gently against Caladah’s forehead.

There it was, the ember alit with something long suppressed, but never truly forgotten. It was as if the Forger had closed that part of himself off. Was that, too, the result of will, the sort of discipline that required one to shed all tethers and harden their hearts to purpose, or was it something else entirely?

From behind Banespell, Zaofan stole a brief glance at the photograph. Present company excluded, all he could recognize was young Ro, the Saiyan, and the Kitani; the rest, only from the vision.

"...keep an eye on this, Parsley," Ochazuke said, "there's no telling what will happen. Yet I do know Alakazah's curse, in a fashion."

And so with what was laid inside the hammer combined with what Banespell held within himself, he pressed the forger's tool to his brow.

"Perhaps to cast it off is to better remember yourself."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

There it was, the ember alit with something long suppressed, but never truly forgotten. It was as if the Forger had closed that part of himself off. Was that, too, the result of will, the sort of discipline that required one to shed all tethers and harden their hearts to purpose, or was it something else entirely?

From behind Banespell, Zaofan stole a brief glance at the photograph. Present company excluded, all he could recognize was young Ro, the Saiyan, and the Kitani; the rest, only from the vision.

"...keep an eye on this, Parsley," Ochazuke said, "there's no telling what will happen. Yet I do know Alakazah's curse, in a fashion."

And so with what was laid inside the hammer combined with what Banespell held within himself, he pressed the forger's tool to his brow.

"Perhaps to cast it off is to better remember yourself."

There is no explosion of energy, no great burst or flare. Instead, that golden light crawls through the hammer and into Caladash’s head. Like veins, it worms through the body and where it goes, a foul grey smoke emanates from Caladash and disappears, the curse burned away under the light of Love. All present can feel that pure love, Cleos to Caladash, and for a single moment a figure can be seen behind Caladash, their arms holding him gently.

The golden light ends, the figure vanishes, and Caladash looks up. Where once the eyes had held a cold resolve for a singular purpose, they now shone with renewed hope.

“I remember. I remember it all. What I have done, the lines I have crossed. What was taken from me.”

He holds his hands up and slowly, a faint golden light emanates from them as his hands slowly regrow.

“Cleos gave me her life, her love. That selflessness empowered the hammer and me as well. I hold part of that here. Let me impart it to the hammer once more, and make up for what I have done.”

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Parsley watched everything transpire quietly and with a watchful gaze, ever ready to intercede in case something went awry. She knew the odds; 50/50 was a literal coin flip between Banespell living to continue his punishment for his vast crimes or him dying. The way Alakazah's curse was intertwined with his very being, the odds of them freeing him by themselves were far slimmer than what her expertise would have her believe.

Yet, despite all odds or sense, they prevailed. Cleos' Heka Flow empowered his hammer; in many ways, their love for each other preserved it as an ember, a spark of golden power that laid in wait for just the right time. Without pretense or preamble, it struck and freed him.

She could feel the love, strong and pure, the two shared. It felt like the first radiant rays of sunlight in the early morning. Her eyes closed just briefly so she could bask in it for the scant moment it lasted.

"Well done," she said with a single nod to Ochazuke. Her attention fell upon Banespell. Whereas before, his eyes were cold with the steely resolve of his paranoid quest, they were then shining with youthful hope and a yearning to make things right. "It's a good thing I suggested this meeting. There's no telling what Alakazah had in mind for you. Will the same work for the others? I have little doubt Cleos felt a deep affection for you all, just to be sure."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Parsley watched everything transpire quietly and with a watchful gaze, ever ready to intercede in case something went awry. She knew the odds; 50/50 was a literal coin flip between Banespell living to continue his punishment for his vast crimes or him dying. The way Alakazah's curse was intertwined with his very being, the odds of them freeing him by themselves were far slimmer than what her expertise would have her believe.

Yet, despite all odds or sense, they prevailed. Cleos' Heka Flow empowered his hammer; in many ways, their love for each other preserved it as an ember, a spark of golden power that laid in wait for just the right time. Without pretense or preamble, it struck and freed him.

She could feel the love, strong and pure, the two shared. It felt like the first radiant rays of sunlight in the early morning. Her eyes closed just briefly so she could bask in it for the scant moment it lasted.

"Well done," she said with a single nod to Ochazuke. Her attention fell upon Banespell. Whereas before, his eyes were cold with the steely resolve of his paranoid quest, they were then shining with youthful hope and a yearning to make things right. "It's a good thing I suggested this meeting. There's no telling what Alakazah had in mind for you. Will the same work for the others? I have little doubt Cleos felt a deep affection for you all, just to be sure."

He shakes his head.

“I can see the memory crystal clear now. I doubt the others are as infected to be honest. Though Durga, Haden, and Kana have certainly isolated themselves, and Zxu’ro has certainly wandered. I was the only one that seemed to give into the fear and paranoia. Perhaps the others subconsciously knew something was wrong and that’s why they went off.”

He shakes his head and stands up.

“Regardless, they do bare some of the Curse for sure. No doubt a similar exposure to Heka would restore and burn it out of them too.”

[Sub-Zero MKA]

He shakes his head.

“I can see the memory crystal clear now. I doubt the others are as infected to be honest. Though Durga, Haden, and Kana have certainly isolated themselves, and Zxu’ro has certainly wandered. I was the only one that seemed to give into the fear and paranoia. Perhaps the others subconsciously knew something was wrong and that’s why they went off.”

He shakes his head and stands up.

“Regardless, they do bare some of the Curse for sure. No doubt a similar exposure to Heka would restore and burn it out of them too.”

She knew where Vocado was - or rather, Rutaba did. The Kitsuni was, if she recalled correctly, in Vaikuntha on Inanna's behest. Zxu'ro, obviously, was on Earth. The only two they didn't know the location of were Haden and Durga. She supposed those two would have to wait.

She approached Banespell and held her hand out. "We can find Vocado, Zxu'ro, and Kana easily enough. Inanna knows...knew... where Durga and Haden are. By the time we face Alakazah, we'll have freed you all of his curse. Please, so I can free Vocado."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

She knew where Vocado was - or rather, Rutaba did. The Kitsuni was, if she recalled correctly, in Vaikuntha on Inanna's behest. Zxu'ro, obviously, was on Earth. The only two they didn't know the location of were Haden and Durga. She supposed those two would have to wait.

She approached Banespell and held her hand out. "We can find Vocado, Zxu'ro, and Kana easily enough. Inanna knows...knew... where Durga and Haden are. By the time we face Alakazah, we'll have freed you all of his curse. Please, so I can free Vocado."

“Vocado is dead. I was at his funeral, unless things have vastly changed.”

He quirks an eyebrow at this.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

“Vocado is dead. I was at his funeral, unless things have vastly changed.”

He quirks an eyebrow at this.

"Yes, I'm aware. But if the curse is negated by death, then it's fine," she replied, retracting her hand.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"Yes, I'm aware. But if the curse is negated by death, then it's fine," she replied, retracting her hand.

He takes her hand quickly and shakes it.

“Sorry, it’s…been a bit. And yes, curses rarely continue past death. Vocado should be fine.”

[Sub-Zero MKA]

He takes her hand quickly and shakes it.

“Sorry, it’s…been a bit. And yes, curses rarely continue past death. Vocado should be fine.”

That, in the end, was all she was concerned with. She shook his hand firmly. "It's fine. We've all be very tense lately. Once Alakazah is dealt with for good, we can know a measure of peace before the next threat arises."