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

[bruceleegreyhulk]

While charting down objects in unknown space, and GP shuttles communications to pick up foreign signals. Praxat comes across a planet. ( Hmm, could this be Amperior?,) Praxat thought.

" Hey, is anyone from Amphintis empire out here, respond dammit. This is Araxat Mcfrogg. I'm currently above our home planet Amperior," Praxat said.

( Someone better damn respond. I don't know if this is Amperior or not, but it's the first F@#king planet I came across in this uncharted territory of space. I mean, from here, it looks like a swamp-type planet,) Praxat thought.

( Swamp planets do have distinctive looks from other types of worlds. Planets like Earth have oceans. However, Swamp planets like my home planet Qaceria don't have oceans, well not what would traditionally be referred to as oceans anyways,) Praxat thought.

( They would have what I would refer to as swaceans. The word swacean is a combination of swamp and ocean. Well, I could just call them swamp oceans, but F@$k that,) Praxat thought.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

“After is fine. Now then, back to practicing!”

Parsley nodded and got back to work. While her transmutation spell should have been the main focus of her training, she opted to concern herself more with her mimicry spell. The first time didn't end well; she lived, but having goblin hands for any length of time wasn't a desirable thing under any circumstances. What was more, if she planned on using that ability in battle - and she saw no reason why she shouldn't - she needed to work out the kinks as soon as possible.

Even getting a grasp over an ability like being able to perfectly replicate any spell she saw was vastly more difficult than the two ki-based counterparts. There were many facets to a spell that she needed to consider: any materials that were required, timing, specialized runes, and any possible incantations - though her learning how to cast spells silently from Inanna negated that. She also had to factor in difficulty. Time Magic, for instance, was much more difficult to replicate that Ice Magic, even though she had no experience with either. For the former, she spent time learning the basics from Etrina. Nothing too complicated - she had to specifically make that very clear from the outset, lest Etrina start pulling out thick tomes - but just enough for her to have an understanding of what she was doing and what went into a basic spell.

Parsley, and Saiyans in general, were quick learners, especially when it came to combat. It took a little time, but she had the basics down enough to give it a try. She sat down on the ground and held her hands out, about a six inch gap between them. With her tail, she tossed a stone in the air.

Perfect Replication: Temporal Trap

A small sphere of golden temporal energy appeared around the stone, stopping it in its tracks. One second, two seconds, three seconds, four seconds, the stone remained caught in place. Five, six, seven, eight, and there was no sign of strain on Parsley's face. In fact, there was no maintenance required. Once the stone - or whatever or whoever the trapped object was - was caught, that was it.

Nine. Ten. Finally, the trap dissipated, releasing the stone.

Ten seconds. That was practically an eternity when relative speed was taken into consideration. "I've seen enough," she declared. "I'm satisfied."

That spell alone would come in great handy. Perhaps not against Sakin or Alakazah, but definitely in their rematch with the remaining Ulthan.

With that out of the way, she got down to mastering her new transmutation ability. There were at least three components: the base, the number of items, and the descriptor to give the base meaning. In his example, Caliban had four runes: one for the rock, two for two items, and one to describe how the rock would change. With that in mind, Parsley picked up a rock. In her mind, she drew out three runes: one for the rock, one for one item, and one to describe how the rock would change.

Transmutation!

In a flash, the rock turned into a notebook. She grinned triumphantly, then did it again to create a pen out of a blade of grass. "Outstanding!" She sat down again, and recorded what Caliban told her in regards to Sakin and Alakazah. The others would need to know as soon as she got back and she didn't want to forget anything.

My training is going quite well. All I have to do is figure out the combat applications and I'll be golden. If she could learn how to manipulate organic material, that would make her more formidable than an extra Super Saiyan form. Combined with everything else she knew, there was no way she should have ever lost a fight again.

[KingofPie]

Sasheem and the Katchin Squadron made their way through the city's sewers. The air was rife with the stench of waste and....what appeared to be pulsating mounds of cheese clinging to the walls like fungus. An odor so foul, it could kill any appetite. Even the Majin's. Their goal was to reach the shopping center, which held some sort of device that Bio-Jagam and his current allies used to manipulate time. A remnant of the Doctor's machinations undoubtedly.

Sasheem had hoped it wasn't a very long trek. In addition to stinking, trekking through the sewers was boring. Though, given how the further they went, the more the cheese alongside the walls began to violently shake, things wouldn't stay dull for too long. Suddenly, bursting from the walls were yellow, goopy, humanoid figures. Moaning as if in pain, they piled on to the ground in order to approach the group trying to make their way through the nikaus tunnels.

"Finally, some action!" Sasheem grinned, ready to toss out a Samehada.

"Wait!" P-Sta raised a hand. "Remember! Don't kill these Muensters!"

"Muensters..." Sasheem squinted his eyes in indescribable anger. "And why the hell not? They're just a buncha cheese freaks!"

"Because! They're citizens of the town! Transformed against their will by Jagam's chi-to dust!" P-Sta reminded him. "We'll have to incapacitate them, but while we're on this official mission, we must keep lethal force to a minimum against civilians...even cheesified ones!"

"Alright, alright!" Sasheem grimaced, tossing a handful of ki blasts over a pair of Muensters leaping from the walls at the group. He correctly suspected (or just didn't care) that they could regenerate. "Looks like limb choppin's A-OK!" Sasheem replied, giving a mocking thumbs up as he finally fired off a Samehada, slicing through the legs of a Muenster leaping in midair.

"I hate to say it, but he's right!" P-Cee commented. "I don't think we want to get caught by these things so until we can find a way to round them up, we just have to cut them out and push through!"

"Guess it's time..." X-Bo nodded, drawing out his sabre. "To cut the cheese!" he quipped, slicing through the Muensters limbs with expert speed.

"And hit 'em until they're bleu in the face!" N-Ten added, readying her blaster.

"That's nacho call to make, sis!" P-Cee pointed out, dancing around a volley of palmetto projectiles being tossed at her.

"Oh, so it's only when I fondue it that people complain!" P-Sta grumbled, as the squad marched forward.

Sasheem stood for a moment, sullen and ashamed he'd even signed up for this venture. all but mentally kicking himself, he soldiered on, wondering if letting this city fall was better than working with these goofs. ...Then again, if he did, then Jagam would win. And he would never live that one down.

And so, Sasheem and X-Bo cut through the limbs of any and all Muensters leaping at their front whilst P-Sta, N-Ten, and P-Cee covered their back. All the while getting closer to their destination, though there was a worrying factor.

"So were they prepared to attack anyone who ventured into the sewers or was this a trap specifically prepared for us?" N-Ten questioned.

"Either Jagam had all bases covered or he figured we'd try and find a way in after the GP's first attempt...." P-Cee replied. "Either way, we have to push through."

"Good news on that front..." X-Bo gave a thumbs up, a watch-like device on his wrist vibrating slightly. "Starting to pick up a lot of temporal energy readings. We've probably reached the shopping center! No big spikes yet, but whatever time bending device is being used, can't be too far now!"

"Good!" P-Sta nodded, flying upward towards the ceiling. "Because we've stood here talking a bit too long, I think!" he exclaimed as he noted a new horde of Muensters from every entryway one could think of to the sewers, beginning to pile on towards them like a vast yellow tidal wave. "Punching through!" P-Sta continued, tackling his way through the ceiling and making a pathway into the mall.

"First floor! Jewelry, men's wear, sporting goods!" X-Bo quipped as the rest fo the group flew up to find themselves in an eerily empty mall. The muensters below them didn't seem to give chase either and brief glance back down the makeshift tunnel from which they emerged would show them all retreating. "Weird...we really gotta tread with caution guys. Temporal anomaly is upstairs."

"You think the food courts got stuff in stock still or is it all just cheese?" Sasheem asked to no one in particular, only to be met with glares. "...what, you idiots ain't hungry? ...Sasheem's just gonna take a detour, if you don't mind..."

"Yo-" P-Sta began, before N-Ten interrupted.

"Just let him go. He's faster than all of us, so he can catch up quickly...plus he'll be out of our hair for a few minutes!" she reasoned.

"I suppose...." P-Sta sighed, as Sasheem darted ahead towards the food court. But unfortunately for the Majin, he didn't get far before he was face to face with a flying dagger made from RAZOR sharp cheddar. Expertly avoiding the projectile, Sasheem's ki senses quickly locked on to the assailant in question. A slightly familiar sight, as much as the Majin remembered him. The half-Saiyan, half-Threshling had seen better days for he was looking none too fresh.

Bio-Jagam glared back at the Majin and the Katchin Squad with disdain, his arms folded and his teeth gritted in rage. "You!" he pointed accusingly at Sasheem. "You are to blame!"

Sasheem, near immediately distracted by the food court advertisement a scant few meters away offering those pizza sized cookies, began to pick his ear, and look back perpleced at Jagam.

"...Eh?"

[Monstrous Bird of Qin, Ou Ki]

[RIGHT]<snip>

"Fight you? No, you retard, I'm going to kill you."

The Brother's countenance twisted into one of anger at that last bit, and his aura flared, wild and uncontrolled. "Kill me?! You worm, I'll wipe the floor with you." He charged at Talaya.

Hmph, what an arrogant fool. The fusion smiled, as she activated the Blutz Flash. Her own aura flared as she guided her body in its transformation into the Hitozaru... or rather, the Super Hitozaru. While the Brother's power exceeded her Super... Saiyan... Threshling 2 (?) state by a fair amount, she could've handled him regardless thanks to Tasure's massive skill advantage and Nevanlinna--Malaya's--magic and control over vaikuntha. This? This was just icing on the proverbial cake. He hadn't been humiliated enough.

By the time the Brother had crossed the distance, Talaya was prepared... in a sense. She kept one behind her back, raising the other to block his attacks. With dismissive ease, she flowed from one black and parry into a nother, brushing away his punches, kicks, and ki attacks as if they were nothing. That was, of course, because they weren't. During the interval between two of his strikes, Talaya thrust her hand forward, an invisible blast of ki lancing out and catching him in the chest and sending him flying back.

He righted himself, but Talaya had already instant transmission'd next to him, delivering a fierce kick to the small of his back. The brother cried out in pain and he would have flown off into the distance if Talaya hadn't repositioned herself to strike him from the other side. Again and again, she ping-ponged the Brother through the air, the Brute making the occasional attempt to counter or defend, but it was all for naught. At last, she sent him flying for real.

Instant transmissioning to him and keeping pace, she crossed her arms and gave him a smug and absolutely demeaning grin. "What was that again? You'll wipe the floor with me? What's the matter? Pathetic fool, reduced to a pile of garbage..." With that, she went on the offensive again, ping-ponging him towards the ground. To his credit, he managed to land on his feet and begin to charge an energy attack. Talaya smiled and held off a bit, allowing him to loose it.

As he did, she charged into it, and her form split into two equally powerful versions of her. One disappeared, IT'ing behind him, the other charging through the attack. The two fusions attacked him in unison physically for a time, stunning the Brother, and then withdrew. They held out their hands, charging identical ki blasts, and loosed them, catching the Brother in a pincer attack. When the smoke cleared, the Brother remained, though in much worse shape than before from all the abuse. The Talaya clone dissipated.

She knew. He was technically still immortal, but could take damage. In other words, he was an undying punching bag. But she was getting bored of this.

His breath ragged, the Brother nonetheless managed to draw out more power, his aura flaring once again. His expression was... sublime. That calm, cool, confident "fighter" was gone, replaced with a maddened, wounded animal desperately struggling against inevitable death. It was more than he deserved. Talaya grinned yet again.

"Rejoice. You get to die a death far beyond what you deserve."

The Brother roared and charged a massive ball of ki, not caring about doing it safely... just quickly. His body sustaining even more damage from the improper ki usage, he launched the admittedly powerful attack at the fusion.

Talaya drew back her hands, charging ki into her cupped hands. "Ether Cannon... Fire!" She threw her hands forward and a beam of purple and white ki launched forth--the combination of Tasure's Galick Cannon and Nevanlinna's Ether Strike--and it impacted the Brother's attack. The two seemed to stalemate for a brief moment, but after a few seconds, her Ether Cannon gained the upper hand and overwhelmed the Brother's energy sphere. She felt some resistance as the Ether Cannon flowed over the Brother, and when it faded, it was evident that he'd charged through, with little concern given to his own safety. His one good arm was... not so good now, and most of his skin had been flayed or burned off, and he was missing one eye.

Gruesome.

As he approached, Talaya held up her hand, a sword of ki and hozon erupting from her hand. She leveled it at the Brother.

"It's over."

The Hozon-Ki blade extended, impaling the Brother. Struggling, he attempted to push forward, but Talaya would have none of it. Her aura, a mixture of ki and Hozon at this point, brightened, and with an effort of will, the light and power focused itself on her sword, a pulse of light following its length to the Brother. Once it reached him, something quite marvelous occurred.

First, his hozon--both his personal and grafted ones--were ripped from him, dispersing into Vaikuntha's environment. And then, his invincibility completely stripped, the ki portion exploded from within, his body and the immediate area being engulfed in a huge dome of light. When it faded, the Brother was no more.

Talaya jerked her hand to the side, the sword dissipating into nothingness. Her form reverted to Super Saiyan...ling, and then to her base form. This wouldn't bring their friend back--nothing could, in all likelihood--but at least he'd been avenged.

"...rest well, Voyavoda," said Talaya, sighing.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

“Alright! We did it!” Sarada cheered as she and her sister high-fived. “At this rate, we’ll be fused up in no time!”

Avoca smiled and clapped her hands. “Great job, guys.” She sighed heavily, as if she had been doing some hard training all day, and plopped down on the ground. “Now what?”

“We still... two months left before we have to head back,” Parsley said. “Let’s get some training in and try to unlock SSJ3 before we go.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Yep. You guys go ahead. I’ma take a nap. Watching you two fail at simple things makes me tired.” As the sisters ventured further into Ilargi, Avoca leaned against a tree and closed her eyes. I wonder what they’ll look like when fused. Ugh, probably some gross mix of the two. This is gonna be so awkward.

Parsley and Sarada traveled deeper into Ilargi to avoid disturbing Avoca during her nap. “When I spoke to Kakarot, he told me how he managed to achieve SSJ3,” she told her. “He said that you have to flare your power again and again, risking death and permanent ki damage until we break through our limits. We’ve been training with SSJ2 for a year now, so eventually, we’ll reach the point where we’ll feel the next level is just beyond reach.”

“Sounds incredibly dangerous,” Sarada remarked flatly. “Let’s do it!” They immediately transformed into Super Saiyan, then Super Saiyan 2.

“I'm not sure how much use we'll be able to get out of this form,” Parsley said. “Apparently, the stamina drain is huge. Much greater than Super Saiyan 2.”

Sarada hummed softly. That posed several problems. Not the least of which being not having enough stamina to fight for a long period of time. Meaning that, if what this Kakarot guy said was true, the form was best left as a last resort. It sounded like there was a ton of power associated with the form if it had that kind of stamina drain. Doubtless, it would make for an awesome finishing move, if the battle called for it.

With Kakarot's comments discussed, training commenced with earnest. Like usual, they held nothing back. With the amount of electric power at their disposal, the entire demense shook with each blow. Massive shockwaves rippled through the air as they collided again and again. The sky was alight with vivid colors that streaked across the horizon, followed closely and almost immediately by tremendous explosions.

Despite the ferocity of their training, they took mindful care not to damage the Archon's realms too greatly. Any damage done, Parsley was able to restore when they were done.

The typical schedule of three days training, two days recuperation, then one day training and rest was adhered to. That gave them a chance to bounce ideas off each other for new techniques. They found that they were both drifting away from the typical energy blasts and more to the... esoteric. For Sarada, that was a nearly completely untapped avenue that she was excited to delve into.

Much like Super Saiyan, they maintained Super Saiyan 2 as long as their stamina would allow during their off days. The sooner they mastered the second form, the easier it would be to achieve the third form.

On the penultimate day of their year on Ilargi, Sarada decided to give it a shot. They had been training for two months straight; if nothing else, it would serve as a barometer for how far they had come along.

After taking a few hours to rest, Sarada went off by herself to try. She was already in Super Saiyan 2 thanks to her and Parsley’s efforts to master the form, so she started powering up as far as the form could go. Immediately, she could tell that she was vastly stronger than she was when she fought against Tundra. When she reached the absolute peak of that power, she started digging like she did back then when she first reached the second level. Her figurative fingers tore through the floor of her power in search of the small glimpse of the vast canyon of power that was hidden underneath.

It was like a slow drip. Slowly, but sure, she broke through, until she finally felt that electric power surge she felt before starting to swell. She tapped into it, flaring her power over and over again to boost herself and making shattering the barrier of her plateau an easier feat. The surge felt different than the one that led to Super Saiyan 2. It tasted different. It was more energetic and more... primal. It was also completely overwhelming. So much power was being put out all at once. As she powered up, the clouds in the sky around her were sucked into her aura like a golden black hole. As more power erupted out of her like a geyser, the entire planet of Ilargi started to shake violently, as if every corner was stricken by a powerful earthquake all at once. Her aura expanded, filling the sky like a miniature sun. She could feel her hair growing, sprouting into a wild, radiant mane not unlike the one she sported in her youth.

The flow of power ebbed and she reached another wall. Like she was told, she spiked her power again and again. Gradually, the wall shattered, unleashed a torrent of power that overwhelming surpassed the eruption of just moments ago. She let out a primal roar as the sky of Ilargi and Vaikuntha turned gold.

The light and dust and debris faded from view. Sarada stood stock still. The power coursing through her was absolutely exhilarating. She had, never in her entire life, felt that powerful. It was exciting. It was overwhelming.

She took a single slow breath and flexed her arm. “I did it,” she spoke. She then promptly collapsed, landing face-down on the hard ground. The sheer power was tremendous, but the energy drain was even more so. She could only maintain the form for a few seconds before exhaustion hit her like a suckerpunch.

As she slept in the center of the crater her transformation created, Parsley quietly approached. The spikes in Sarada’s energy attracted her attention, as did the environmental reactions to it. “Hm, interesting,” she murmured. She bent down and scooped her sister up in her arms. “If you can do it, then so can I. We’ll train our stamina in this form when we return in a few months.”

She departed from Ilargi after repairing the damage down to the demesne unfortunate enough to house Sarada’s experiment and their training, then took off for the realm proper, where Avoca was waiting for her.

“What the hell was all that?” she was asked the moment she landed next to her wife.

“Sarada ascending to the next level,” she answered simply. “She managed it, but the drain was too much.”

“Of course.” She shook her head and gave a small chuckle. “Don’t know how you two keep doing it. At this rate, I’ll never catch up.”

“Not with that attitude,” Parsley retorted. “Come with us next time. We’ll invite the rest of the Super Saiyans and Seri and whip the rest of you into shape.”

“...who?”

“The kid.”

At hearing that, Avoca let out a profound sigh. “Are we going to train or play babysitter?”

“She’s stronger than anyone not already a Super Saiyan,” Parsley stated. “Besides, I promised her a while ago that I would help her ascend and I don’t intend on breaking another promise.”

Avoca sighed again, that time more softly. “Alright, fine.”

“It'll be good. I have a feeling we'll need you against Sakin.”

“Me? How?”

Parsley set Sarada down on the soft ground of Vaikuntha so she could rest and recover her energy before they were to depart the next morning. “Remember what I relayed to you after my training with Caliban? He'll be much stronger, but his stolen power won't last long. You can quicken that drain with your techniques.”

Avoca hemmed and hawed for a long time.

Parsley frowned deeply. “Every little bit helps. No one person will be able to win our future battles by themselves. Teamwork is key, and even the smallest role plays a large part in our victory.” When it seemed that Avoca wasn't convinced, she sighed. “Let me ask you this. Do you think Sarada would have beaten Tundra if Sellerie and Corra weren't there?”

It was a much discussed question among Saiyans across the empire, with one unanimous answer. “No.”

“Despite them being vastly weaker than either fighter?”

Avoca already knew Parsley’s point before she even made it. “Yeah.”

“Do you see my point?” Avoca nodded. “I’ve seen the weakest M-Fighters make the largest contributions at the most pivotal moments to give us the win. Overwhelming power isn’t the only way a warrior can make his or her mark on a battle. You’ll be fine. Don’t let anyone, not even yourself, tell you differently.”

Avoca flashed a small smile. “Thanks, Parsley.”

She returned the smile and plucked a blade of grass from the ground. “In the upcoming fights, brute strength will accomplish little to nothing. Both Sakin and Alakazah are too powerful to try and match blow for blow. We need to find a way to bypass the latter’s strength and outlast the former until his stolen power fizzles out.” Three small runes rotated around the flower briefly before it shifted into a white rose. “Only by using our abilities and techniques intelligently will we find success.”

“And by working together?”

Parsley nodded once.

“Too bad it sounds like you guys barely get along.”

[Sub-Zero MKA]

“Hopefully, this trip to Ruco Sarada is organizing will smooth things over. At least long enough for us to work as a cohesive unit again.” She wasn’t sure how long Sarada intended on the others staying, but a week at minimum in paradise would do wonders. Part of the strife, in her mind, was due to the unyielding, unwieldly responsibilities that had been thrust into their laps by no choice of their own. They were forced into that lofty and weighty position, and their behavior toward each other reflected that. “Beyond that, it’ll be a nice vacation.”

Avoca scoffed. “Some vacation. A nice week on the beach with my wife and kids, ruined by a bunch of overpowered randoms from another world.”

“I’m certain someone on Earth has said the same about us,” Parsley said dryly.

“Probably, which is why I haven’t been there since the first time. I stay in my lane and everyone else should to. Maybe all the universe’s problems would solve themselves that way.” She sighed heavily.

“We would be so lucky.” She snipped part of the rose’s stem off, then tucked it into her hair.

“...what the hell are you doing?” she said gruffly despite the fierce blush on her cheeks. Or, perhaps in spite of it.

Parsley grinned and ran her tail across Avoca’s neck. “Nothing. When everything is squared away, I’ll take you away somewhere secluded. No battles, no training. Just you and me. How does that sound?”

She pursed her lips in thought. “That does sound nice. How secluded are we talking?”

“Deep space. We could take in the celestial sights, visit new worlds, take in new cultures, eat new foods, learn new languages. Does that sound nice?”

A smile appeared on her lips. “It really does, yeah.”

“Even better is that we aren’t limited to this universe. We can go anywhere, visit anyone. We can even see if Saiyans exist in these other universe.” With Inanna’s Planeswalker ability, there wasn’t a realm or universe that was off-limits. Once Sakin was dealt with, they could even visit the unsealed universes and see what they were all about! She couldn’t wait to see the one where that Kakarot came from. The Saiyans there must have been exceptionally powerful.

“Well, whatever we do,” Avoca said as she rose to her feet and stretched, “it’ll be good to finally have you all to myself.”

“That would be nice.”

As Sarada slept soundly on the plush and luscious grassy knoll, Parsley and Avoca got some more training in before it was time for them to leave in a few hours. The former used her magic almost exclusively. She needed more time using it in a semi-practical combat situation before being comfortable using her new spells when her life would be very much on the line, not to mention the lives of people she cared about.

After two hours and two breaks, they called it a draw. “Tch. Stupid magic,” Avoca grumbled. Somehow, the rose Parsley gave her hours earlier was still there.

“Hehe.”

[KingofPie]

Double post

[KingofPie]

"Do you not remember...my demise?" Bio-Jagam sneered, derision apparent on his face.

"Not really. Barely remember you at all, cheese-whiz," Sasheem shrugged. "Ya came to Earth, read your little poems, pissed your pants..."

"I never-!" Jagam attempted to interrupt.

"Talked a big game, got whooped six ways to Sunday and then to top it all off...." Sasheem continued, listing Jagam's failures on his hand. "You were a sore lsoer (no surprise there...) and you tried to curse us all to another dimension and you STILL failed."

Bio-Jagam fists began to shake, the Saiyan-Threshling-Cheddar conglomeration bristling with anger. "You uncouth imbecile! It's because of you and your M-Fighters that I've become this! A Muenster!"

"No, sorry!" P-Sta chimed in. "We've already used that one."

Jagam blinked. "What."

"Muenster. That's what we called your cheese minions in the sewers," N-Ten replied.

"Oh."

"It's first come first serve 'round these parts. You should know all about that, hors d'oeuvres!" X-Bo quipped.

"I didn't...I didn't realize that-"

"That you're body had an expiration date?" P-Cee uttered in disgust, waving the wafting smell emerging from Jagam away from her.

"Enough! ENOUGH!" Bio-Jagam erupted, apparently having enough. "No more jokes! No more puns! No....more...talking! While we've been chatting, I've been lining the surrounding area with chi-to dust. So small they can't even be seen by the naked eye. Magically coated, so as to be undetectable by the most finely attuned ki senses! I know why you were sent here...because my spores have no affect on your physiology but no matter! They have...other functions!"

Bio-Jagam smirked, snapping his fingers as each of the tiny individual spores set off an explosion, Launching the Katchin Squad and Sasheem in various directions, sending them flying through the walls of the shopping center. Sasheem, much to his amusement, ended up in the food court.

"HA! That didn't even hurt that bad! What a gorgoonzola! Once Sasheem finishes raiding this place, that idiot's doritoast!" Sasheem smirked, hoping that there was some food left, uncheesified somewhere around here. "That giant cookie's gotta be around some..." Sasheem glanced around, before spotting another advertisement for the pizza sized dessert. "Alright! High past time Sasheem had a quick bite to-"

Sasheem was cut short, his hunger ridden monologue put to an end by a humanoid figure smashing through the ceiling, landing directly on top of the cookie pizza mobile.



The figure was covert in a pelt of some sort. It didn't resemble any creature Sasheem had seen before, but the man wearing it appeared to be a human. Brandishing an axe about the size of his body carved from bone, the figure raised his weapon in the air and shouted, "WHERE IS HE?!"

"Where....is who? ...And who the blue hell are you?!" Sasheem inquired, a blood vessel in his head popping at the sheer indignity of the cookie cart being undeservedly crushed.

"They call me Fossul! I seek vengeance!" the axe-wielding human proclaimed.

"Yeah,well step in line!" Sasheem grumbled. "Sasheem can't count how many asses he's kicked over the years..."

"Not you, cretin! REX!" Fossul bellowed. "In my time, my tribe perished because of his merciless quest for power. I would have perished, were it not for our benefactor. Plucking me from the brink of death, temporally displacing me and giving me time to train. To hone my skills for the new world that is to come!"

"Yer lookin' for that stoopid lizard?" Sasheem raised his brow. "Lemme inform ya, ya might be too late, Unga-bunga!"

"There is...something that remains of him! I will not rest until my people are avenged!" Fossul spat back.

"Well, look, if you got beef with that barbecue brat, Sasheem doesn't care either way," the Majin shrugged. "But if you're runnin in the same gang with that doofus, Jagam , Sasheem's gonna have kick your ass!"

Fossul looked flustered, and galred down at the Majin, snarling, "You'll what, whelp?!"

"Maybe Sasheem spoke too fast for your cro-magnon brain to comprehend! Lemme slow it down for ya!" Sasheem taunted., "Sasheem," he gestured to himself. "Gonna. Killa. A-you-a!" he pointed at Fossul, who proceeded to rush at the Majin with surprising speed. He could keep up, shockingly. Sasheem gritted his teeth. This guy did want to challenge Rex, after all. Maybe he did get whooped in the past, but who knows what upgrades he's gotten himself now.

And as if answering his question....Fossul swung his axe. It didn't even connect with Sasheem, who dodged in the nick of time but the upon striking the air....the surrounding area began to SHAKE. "Wh-wh-wh-what the hell is this??? Feeeeeeeels like and earthqua-!" Sasheem attempted to speak, a disorienting vertigo overcoming him as he was launched through several layers of concrete.

"My people come from a long line of Geomancers and shamans. My speed alone would not suffice to defeat Rex back in my time, but had I this axe...." Fossul explained, dashing forward towards Sasheem and swinging the axe once more, though this time, the blade glwoed orange. Instead of a centralized seismic quake, an orance glob was launched, pinning Sasheem's arm to the wall.

"Amber! Of the purest variety. It instantly ages the second it emerges from my axe. Once it snares my prey, none may escape!"

"Yeah? Oh really? Just great, dipshit..." Sasheem muttered, attempting to free his arm from it's amber prison, unable to escape. Unable to even launch a generic blast of ki. Whatever was in this stuff seemed to sap away energy. Sap away...he'd been ganging with the Kachump Squad for far too long today. The only solution available to him was to rip off his limb but as soon as he did so, Fossul was already in the midst of taking another swing, this time one that launched another seismic quake that launched him into the air...only to be shot back towards the ground by another foe.

Sasheem looked into the massive hole in his shoulder, the blast beginning to boil. "Damn, what now...?"

"You dare interrupt, my battle, Pomegranate?!" Fossul shook his hand in the air. Flying above them was a woman in some sort of high-tech getup.



"There's a good reason for that...." the woman replied in a dull tone.

"And what do you want revenge for, hotshot?" Sasheem asked of her, his wounds healing slower than normal after that shot from her gun.

"Revenge has never been in the Tuffle's best interest..." She sighed. "I'm just looking for a future."

"I'm the one who's going to finish him off!" Fossul interrupted. "And then....then there's Rex!"

"Save the killing spree for later, big guy," Pomegranate replied calmly. "We have jobs to do, remember. And besides. The boss wants to talk with this one."

"Does he now?" Fossul sighed, planting his axe upon the ground. "Very well. You've been bestowed a great honor, cretin. Count yourself lucky..."

Pomegranate tossed a triangular device over towards Sasheem. It fell and then stopped three feet above him, hovering and bathing him in a blue light. He vanished within seconds...

***

"We've been separated from Sasheem! ...And Jagam's still on our tail!" P-Sta informed his siblings, who were just coming to. He had hauled them off before the cheddary fiend could follow up with a new attack. "And he's not alone....there!" P-Sta pointed.

A figure, old an dercrepit, lying in a wheel chair, calmly rolled himself towards the Katchin-Squad.

"He's the one who brought Jagam back!" X-Bo exclaimed. "Just what the hell do you want now, I doubt you're suited for combat!"

"That's where you'd be wrong..." a familiar voice answered. It was Doctor Cast, and on his shoulder was Chief Durive of the GP....and the Time Patrol. None of them were sure which.

"What are you two doing here?!" N-Ten questioned.

"We've arrived to confirm our suspicions..." Cast sighed. "When you first sent the report on the scientist who'd resurrected Jagam, I thought his work sounded familiar. But now that I see him face to face...it's time some things came to light."

"Father..." the elderly figure smiled, behind him the parmesan presence of the halfling known as Bio-Jagam making a slow approach.

"What?! Father?!" P-Cee exclaimed. "Doctor Cast....would you like to explain this?"

"There is....much to explain," Doctor Cast sighed. "But to put it simply...this pathetic figure before you....is your younger brother. St-Adia," he explained as glancing grimly at the shocked expression upon the Katchin Squad's faces. "His current predicament is not entirely his own doing. The fault also lies within the Galaxy Police. And the sins of it's past..."

"Ha...hahaha..." P-Sta chuckled. "That's...that's preposterous! Clearly you've roped Doctor Cast into one of your ill-timed jokes, right chief?!" he shouted, half in exclamation, half in question as he glanced towards Durive for confirmation that this was just an impromptu farce. "There are no such sins, we've got nothing to hide, r-right?"

Durive simply glanced towards P-Sta, offering his own version of events.



"...Ah."

***

Sasheem suddenly fell upwards, towards the blue light. He arrived at his destination quickly, so quick in fact that he had begun to feel ill. Clutching his stomach, Sasheem took a moment to regain his bearings and regenerate his wounds. Glancing around, he noticed that he was standing on a mountaintop, high in the upper atmosphere. Behind him, he could see the edge of the cliffside, a sea of clouds below him. And before him lied a temple. One adorned with familiar emblems...of the Ten Schools of Zxu'Ro.

[grampagen]

The Crane-human! Kill him! MY CHILDREN, MY KIN, AVENGE ME!

A man marked by the fell creature's touch. The psychic shout of the Deep One seemed to call out to their bestial kin, and the sunwell's light filled with horns and feelers as a flood of demons descended upon him from all sides.

.

It was height of early summer the day that the sea had been dyed black when the coastal air became so putrid that it repulsed all but the flocking gulls. The tides had swept the ichor inland, over the barrier reefs some distance where it had originated, but when it seeped into the roots of the mangroves their red flowers never bloomed brighter and their fruits bloomed almost instantly. Researchers from Capsule Corp were unable to find the source of the phenomena. It was initially dismissed as a seasonal algal bloom, but for the sheer amount of gnarled bones and cartilaginous fish bodies held aloft in the flotsam.

__

"One Soki Soba. Anything to drink, sir?

"Just tea. Thank you."

Chahan furrowed his brow beneath the expanse of his wool cap, wrung dry under the scalding sun. He made his order without once turning his eyes from the ocean, and his wind-burnt face set with aged crinkles. The skin on his bony fingers was thin and mottled, but leading up to the row of calloused knuckles, they were anything but frail.

Gripping something so delicate within, the craft of a true instrument of destruction. That was how he had inherited stewardship over the Crane School over the broken limbs of his brothers more than half a century ago. There were many who emphasized the artfulness, who thought the contest was merely a platform for their egos. None of them were prepared for war, and as the years passed their ghosts lingered on only in his memories.

Here on this veranda on his lonesome, however, he was a stranger to these people, a fisherman that walked from the tide and asked for a meal. They found his money was just as good as anyone else's.



Glazed pork ribs, steamed fish cakes, scallions and pickled ginger danced atop a plain, greaseless broth. It was a hot day for no steam broke the surface.
The tea's qualities, earthy, astrigent, raw qualities processed mechanically for volume. Chahan sat upon the patio area beneath a tacky parasol and muttered bitterly to himself. It was a beautiful last meal, shame that he could not so much as smell it.

His nostrils were filled with the scent of salt brine and felt himself filled with a sickly warmth, like hot smoke pooling in the pit of his heart. All the bloodshed through the ages and what he knew now made even the simplest things impossible to relish. All for the sake of his esteemed house. Once Chahan had been willing to do anything to ensure his students and the successorship dearer than progeny would survive against a world filled with strife. To ensure his place, he'd made a compact with the President. The Crane, under his command, would see to their victory and vanquish the last of their rival clans, and they would build a future free of their mutual enemies. In exchange for fighting these undesireble elements, Grinthorn would make no enemy of his school.

In the face of that ancient enemy, truthfully, what, if anything, could he do? Take arms and he would lose them all. To ensure his line continued, he'd promised the President his services...and effectively made him no promise at all, but what he'd already inherited across the generations. Still, ever since that loathsome day, he had plotted and schemed. In so many words, he had not considered even the Grand Master of the Crane School a peer.

That suited him just fine, for he had been trained to ascend into a station worthy of the Founder of the Five to resist this charade. The Obushi-sennin had stood forth to cast apart the Calamity from the Skies. He'd shaped the matron fist of Nomi who struck down the Deep Spawn two thousand years ago, and today he finished the foetid thing off. Its psychic death rattle had marked him, however, and where sensation should have righted itself hours ago, he only heard the faceless one scream for vengeance.

Ki adepts, they had been a rare sort among humanity. Oh, the potential was there innately; so are the animal compulsions, appetites and filth. Yet not all wars are fought directly, and often a loyal stroke of a pen was worth as much as any mundane energy projection, provided they had the right, precise moment, and at his command, their ranks swelled and he waited. Decades passed in the blink of an eye and he'd waited patiently and keep his eyes open, making shrewd purchases of land, Sculpting fighters, and loyal men sent into the ranks of the World Government. Territories were taken, industries were purchased or created, and fortunes built gradually.

He was waiting for a moment that never came. The Dragon School fell by the hand of Simon Battersea, the man who proclaimed himself king. The Champion, in turn, died with the monastic sect of the Turtle School who had cowed to his demands, their ancestral homestead sold beneath them without a fight, the cowards. And the Tigers...they took his favoured son and corrupted him and so he wiped them out.

So much for this, then

A secret society had infiltrated every strata of civilization, a global network interwoven within the entirety of the World Government as well, and for what, now? They'd claimed victory by default. Only that one, the Tiger Master had given him anything of a fight. It might have been an honour, even, to die to those kicks to galvanize the next generation. Oh, how did they devote themselves to his mastery; how regretful that loyalty made fanatics of the lost. To preserve the ideals, they sacrificed their future, and all that he had passed to Ochazuke had fallen to Aiko. All they had now was a series of useless politicians they carried in their pockets, and they felt the power of their signatures far too much for his liking.

The Old Crane fed on the soba, its simple warmth thawing some of the bitterness he held inside as the threads broke under his teeth. All of it yielded this; a hollow victory, and none to share it with at the top.

The sound of spitting. He snatched the loose, organic tether out of the air and the issue of a of a thorny, poisonous barb lapped upon his thick sleeve. The beach resort had rapidly emptied, leaving him face to face with the gilled and scaled legions of the ocean.

"The Crane Human! He was the one who killed our many-angled god!"

The damnable psychic reverb! The voices crawled behind his eyes and granted words to things which knew no voice.

"We followed the Black Bloom across the tides! Ours shall be vengeance from the Deep!"

Callously, Chahan thrust the barbs into the wooden table and stood up with a grumble, his dark eyes weary, loathing, and unblinking.

"I haven't much time left, you understand. But...if you think you would be the ones to take my life from me, you are truly witless."

[grampagen]

The creatures loosed a shrill howl, gilled jaws flapping in the open air. Though their surface had the features of predatory fish, beneath their scaly hides it was revealed what their dead god had imbued them with a cruel, deadly blessing, as their faces split into a strange toothy masses filled with pink, blooded feelers, and great chitinous limbs erupted from their finned backs. A twisted creature bearing maladapted bone and sinew, as their forms ascended these monsters soon bore forms more akin to a radial array of an echinoderm rather than anything that would emerge to the surface, beset of all the cruelest of natural advantages. Without a blind angle, possess of poison, armour, teeth, claws, they spotted their prey and pounced, lashed, bit, and struck.

The scaled behemoths snapped apart, arthropod joints buckling. Grandmaster Chahan's fist drew to his side for a moment, then lowered, and his knuckles were bathed in white smoke.

突きTsuki.

(The perfect punch)

A single forward step and a twist of a torso carried Ki to the intention, honed to a single purpose as the fist impacted through the core mass of the creature carrying the course of his intention,

一拳必殺 Ikken Hissatsu!

(One strike annihilation.)

Sculpted by ki, one penetratink strike was enough for four of them the kiai pierced through a row of them, scattering the creatures apart in bloody shell fragments. Those caught in the aftershock seized as their forms resolved to white ash that carried apart in the lazy ocean breeze.

All too easy.

Then the oceans frothed and boiled as scores ofhelled beasts broke the waves, creeping chaos washed up from the depths, brandishing fang and feelers, tooth and claws. Soon the entire waterfront was crawling with more of their brothers as they erupted from the shoreline and the beachside was in a panic as the citizenry evacuated. It was high tide now, and the water pooled over his ankles as the sun began to set. Those scaled legions emerged from below by the score, and the shrieking gulls circled above.

"So it's come to this. Once again, I haven't the time. Therefore I won't make any more moves than necessary, for you're already dead."

Standing before an army forgotten by time, a small spark struck a fire within Chahan. Much diminished since that time ten years ago, but unmistakable. Fear and courage stem from the same place, the heart of a coward and the heart of a champion in many respects the same. Hearkening back to the first primal shouts, it is by harnessing this impulse that survivors emerge. Yet a ravenous animal knows nothing of limitation, for they have never been denied anything more than a meal, and fear for no less than their lives. Gurgling howls erupted from the legions of the deep as they moved toward the man that stood before them and the resort town. Chahan leanded back, weight upon one leg as he placed his hands before him.

千羽の 鶴 Senbadzuru no Kamae!

(The Thousand Crane Stance!)

There were none who bore witness to the battle that day, though any who would understand what they saw were even rarer. What was known was that despite the forecast, a great wind tore through the clouds and exposed the summer sun and at the same instant the power went out. Those few who went outside out of boredom regretted it, for the smell of brine and foul sunbaked rot would filled the air for days as seagulls descended like vultures on the remains and the corpses that washed back into the sea could be sensed for miles round as the fish swept back near the coast to eat, amid a single set of footprints marked upon the sands.

[Monstrous Bird of Qin, Ou Ki]

The Dark King sighed heavily and sat back in his chair, dispersing the scrying spell. Hiranyakashipu had, somehow, gotten himself killed. His ultimate weapon, killed!

He had violated his policy of not acting openly unless victory was absolutely certain, all because he wanted Hiranyakashipu to gain just a bit of experience, and it had proven to him just how necessary that policy was. Though, if he were to be completely honest, he had to hand it to that Nevadian. Burning his Hozon to make up the gap in power, figuring out that the hozon he had granted Hiranyakashipu itself was his ace-in-the-hole's only weak link, and refining a technique on-the-fly to actually attack and damage hozon... that was a sequence of events so unlikely that it could not be foreseen.

Such a warrior was worthy of respect, though he had been an enemy. A shame he would not reap the benefits of the Eternal World plan.

Still, while this was a loss, it wasn't one that he couldn't recover from. In fact, he had come out ahead. That... fusion had released Hiranyakashipu's hozon into Vaikuntha, where it would gradually extend his influence right under the nose of its careless caretaker. In time, he might not even need an entrance there and could perhaps just merge his realm and Vaikuntha by force.

"My lord, you seem... both displeased and pleased. Is everything alright?" came a voice from nearby. The Dark King turned and found Devura kneeling. Ah yes, he had called for him for... some such matter. It didn't matter now what he had originally been called for. He had other plans for Devura.

"Hiranyakashipu is dead," he stated.

Debura raised his gaze, shocked. "Dead?! But how, he should be invincible!"

"Evidently, he was not. No matter. There is an opening in the ranks of the Demon Gods. You have served me well for millenia... and you will continue to serve me well in the capacity of a Demon God, yes?"

The Demon King blinked a few times. "Me, sire? I... of course, I would be honored."

"Good, good. We shall begin immediately," said the Dark King. He stood and walked down to the still-kneeling Debura, then held out his hand.

"Be reborn!"

Dark magics and ki shot out from the Dark King's outstretched hand, engulfing Debura in their glow. The poor fool began to scream as his... initiation--one might say transformation--into a Demon God commenced. In all likelihood, this would fail, as it did with most, but even if it did, he would not die... immediately. Using him as a disposable weapon would still be an option.

Normally, he wouldn't be so wasteful, but Debura had been plotting against him as of late, and while he respected his ambition, it was most ungrateful of him to do so. If he successfully underwent the transformation, then his threat would be neutralized, as the Demon Gods were absolutely subservient to him, and if he failed, then... simply find a use for him before he died.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

To Namek! Maiz and Sarada Journey to Slak's Homeworld!

Month 9

When Sarada returned from Earth two months ago, she brought with her details of a pair of visions with portents for their immediate future and the news that Grand Elder Nail had been brought back to life. It was pleasing to here that an innocent individual was given a second chance at life; and for someone as important to their race as Nail was to the Nameks, especially so. Beyond that and secondarily, it meant that Maiz could finally do what she had been waiting nearly a year to do: create her own set of dragonballs and finally undo the last of Tundra's bloody conquest.

There were Saiyans on Sadala who were killed according to Sarada, and she already knew about those killed on Ruco during the invasion. Those of the latter included her own children, Mato and Rutaba. For the latter, she was especially excited. Rutaba was still young and deserved to enjoy the rest of her life in the peace that Sarada's hard-fought victory afforded them. Besides, it was depressing watching Pinach live his life by himself. The two had been practically joined at the hip for much of their lives and it didn't take a mind reader to know that her death was affecting him poorly.

She had in her the power to make it right, and that was what she intended on doing, even if doing so put her life at risk. Rutaba and Mato unflinching sacrificed everything to help ensure their race's survival. What kind of person would she be if she let them rot away in Otherworld for the rest of eternity simply because she was too afraid of being put on some maniac's hitlist? Not one she could look in the mirror. By putting her own life in danger the way her children did, she would be giving them the reward they deserved for the valor: a new lease on life and the chance to be reunited with their families.

With that in mind, she opted to wait a few months to give the Nameks the chance to return to some semblance of normalcy. She doubted they would ever truly feel safe. Perhaps she could change that.

"A treaty with the Nameks?" Sarada asked when Maiz approached her the day before she was due to leave.

"Yes. Namek is still, as far as I know, vulnerable. The Warrior Clan is undoubtedly strong, but if any of the innumerable would-be conquerors were to set their sights on them, they would be hard-pressed to defend themselves. Much less if another incident like the Ulthan one happens again."

"True." She could see the wheels in Sarada's head turning. "Slak is there, and I know he's been training. But, you're right. They'll need help on the off-chance something like this happens again." Sarada nodded and smiled. "And besides, there's nothing wrong with rekindling old alliances."

The Saiyans and the Nameks had an ancient link in the form of Flute.

"Then it's settled. Will you come with me tomorrow?"

"Yes," Sarada answered. "I'll need to be there to make sure it's official and all that.

The next day came and Maiz and Sarada boarded her space cruiser. Accompanied by a caravan of a dozen smaller ships, they all took off for Planet Namek. The ships had undergone an upgrade once the Turripians had an opportunity to really study the First Race ships Sarada and Parsley had been utilizing. While they weren't able to perfectly copy the engines, they were able to learn enough to massively upgrade their own. Sarada's ship was fast enough to make the trip to Namek in only a few hours.

Maiz spent those few hours in meditation. Clearing the thoughts of distractions was key to focusing on the task at hand and avoiding making critical mistakes.

"When we get back, I'll have to travel to Earth so Parsley and I can finish our training there. I should only be a day at most," Sarada said.

"For the Fusion thing, right?"

"Yes."

Maiz smiled. "Years ago, the thought of you two joining bodies would have sounded like a joke."

"A cruel one," Sarada muttered. "And it still is! I only hope our joined body keeps my figure."

Maiz could only shake her head. Despite her insistence on focusing on the immaterial, she knew that a fusion of the two strongest Saiyans in the universe would be enough to defeat any enemy. With their combined might, techniques, and experience, Sakin and the dragon didn't stand a chance.

Eventually, their destination came into view.



"Fall back," she ordered to the caravan over comm-link. "The last thing we need is for them to think we're an invading force. Maiz and I will go in alone." The two then boarded a smaller ship that was held within a small hangar in the back of the cruiser. Sarada fired up the engines and piloted the ship toward the planet Namek.

[grampagen]

BGM: Tak Matsumoto: The Road of Lords

Is it simply inevitable that the sapient mortals of this universe will become eager to deal death and judgment? Within a great nebula cloud, there was once housed a means to glimpse into the branching course of destiny. The proprietor of this installation was called The Doctor, who had thought herself keen to every eventuality. Here at the very edge of known space at the intersection to Time itself, built atop the Forge of the First Race, from the beginning till the end of all days, she had planned for every eventuality. Every eventuality, that is, except for her end. and that the universe would go on without her.

Three years ago it had fallen under a series of attacks and collapsed under the assault of the M-Fighters, the Mad Proto-Majin, Auroc. She who sought to control Fate found herself struck down by those who opposed it, and it was Auroc in his malevolent spite and hatred from the beginnings of this universe who set upon it fiercly that none of its innate defenses could rally in time to save it from the mortal wound that had already been struck upon its core. And so the time-fuselage had ruptured, the gravity wells collapsed, and that should have been the end of it. Tet those who tamper with the threads of Fate in an attempt to design destiny often find themselves subject to things far out of their control, and chaos emerges with eventualities none could have predicted.

For example, the last face of the living walls that spawned the Sentry Golems had only their reactive dogma, their amorphic bodies brought to full form by the last will of their creator. Auroc, his very nature innately composed of an ancient magic that defied reality had introduced into the Star Forge an improbability intersecting directly with the road to one of these probable futures. At the interstice of a place suspended betwixt All-When, what was witnessed as a possibility became subject to a rupture that enveloped time and as space collapsed and folded in upon itself, it carried itself through the Doctor's omniscient lens to a place she had always glimped with her envious, jaded eyes: Earth.

Crushing a score of the Golem Progenitor Matrix into a wafer-thin ingot, the thoughtless polymorphic substance was cast through a black hole. An insignificant mote, or so it seemed, until it manifest itself into the Paozu mountain range. A splinter with the density of a meteor for three years it had dug itself deep enough into the valley that the Leylines of the Earth rushed in to amend this, and just as the planet lives, so its own essence recognizes a pathogen; a virus. The Starseed Corruption created a body unnatural, with no more will than to survive with an endless blood-thirst emanating hunger, and death.

Its thirst for violence purpose called in a dulcid tone to all those who would hear it. The emergent Yokai bathed the forests in blood before they turned upon each other, and corpses and life became its nourishment. Where there is blood, there is a silent covenant, and to the man who wore the mantle of crimson, it was an addiction. Lesser demons had fallen to his hand, and he'd long since become bored for few men had dared to challenge him, and when he felt it resonante to rhythm of the bloody magic that pooled upon his fingertips shining black in the moonlight it was nothing less than providence. Ryuu Shingen, the last master of Hokuto Shinken, half of the demonic entity known as the Great Blood Sorceror Shinkuu no Manto found something from beyond had aligned with his stars.

[Yun Lao]

Wilhelm chuckles.

“It’s…fine. Miniaturized Sun. Old….Terra…tech, very powerful. One of….my world’s…..most potent weapons. Dubbed….Solar Shot, it’s essentially……an energy attack….as hot as a sun. Destroys…….pretty much anything.”

Wheelo nods and seems excited.

“How marvelous! We got the bullets AND you managed to absorb the energy! What glorious experiments we can run to see how it has effected you!”

The Judge meanwhile has set the ten bullets in a custom made rig attached to the long sniper rifle.

“An impressive display. My sensors recording your hands indicated your regeneration kicked in approximately 1,178 times to maintain the orb.”

“Actually it was 1,208. Your sensors are unrefined and subpar, ‘Judge’. You are….inadequate.”

Adam appears and he and the Judge start getting into a heated technical conversation.

Their words went in one ear and out the other after Wilhelm's initial statement, the abhuman's eyes closing in thought. It wasn't every day you just absorb a miniaturized sun, although it was difficult to get a feel for it considering the melting pot of energies he had accumulated through his entirety.

There it was, like the gentle warmth of the sun on a winter day. Attempting to draw upon it, however, stirred up the heat as if he were trying to embrace the sun itself. Releasing his concentration, the warmth dissipated, "It certainly lives up to its name."

[bruceleegreyhulk]

Praxat gets up from her cockpit and approaches the shuttle's computer. (Damn't I know this shuttles communication system should be picking foreign signals unless I'm being blocked. Well, I might as well tell the computer to scan the planet below me.

Praxat actives the computer and issues a voice command." Computer scan planet's composition and atmosphere. Scan for signs of sentient amphibious life on this planet. Scan for any defense system protecting this planet," Praxat said.