"Monster!"
"You're unworthy of Zxu'ro's leagacy!"
"Traitor!"
"I could've left...turned over a new leaf. And then you arrived!"
"We summoned you to protect us!"
"We did nothing to you!"
"I'll curse your name until the end of time, if that's what it takes!"
"You ruined my future...her future!"
"You'll never amount to anything. Just another monster..."
"You'll get yours in due time!"
"SHUT UP!!!!" Sasheem roared but the cacophony of voices didn't stop. He had awoken alongside a rocky outcropping in near endless pitch black night. The only lights were from the occasional flashes from the dark clouds that covered the sky. He didn't know where, he was, but if it wasn't hell it was close to it. The monk mentioned something about time and space and yadda yadda. Seemed like whatever he did, displaced some spirits regardless of where they ended up in the afterlife. And it seemed just about all of 'em had a beef with Sasheem.
"Sasheem's heard it all before..." the Majin sighed in irritation. "Too many times! Ya can't make him feel bad!"
"Liar! You've betrayed us! mock us post-mortem by besmirching our legacy!"
"And who're you, a Snake School dropout?!" Sasheem asked sarcastically. "He already made his peace with the Snake Mistress. If he didn't destroy you all, ya woulda done it to yourselves!"
"And what of Fake Namek. We've done nothing to-"
"NOBODY CARES ABOUT FAKE NAMEK!" Sasheem shouted, exasperatedly, picking up a large chunk of rock from the ground and launching it into the abyss below the outcropping he stood on. He had no idea how long he had been walking. Or if there was any end to the outcropping or if it simply never ended. Infinitesimal nothingness. He couldn't help but wonder if this would be the future that would await him had a universe been near completely ravaged by a God of Destruction. The chaotic tide of the universe stifled and quiet. Made boring except for a cavalcade of annoying voices who never ceased to shut up. Bah! If he was the one in charge of destroying things, he'd at least make it more fun. But that wasn't quite what he cared about....it wasn't for a long time.
He fell to the ground, looking defeated. How the hell was he getting out of here. How long would he have to listen to this drivel. But within their complaining there may have been a point.
"You seek to protect the Earth?! What a joke!"
"How can they trust you? They'll all end up the same as us!"
"...Curious," a calm voice spoke out, clearer than the rest. Perhaps that was because he was the only one that wasn't whinging about something or other.
Sasheem looked up and saw a small figure sitting calmly on a boulder, he wasn't quite sure had been present. Some old man. "What is?"
"The way you struggle with guilt. Most bear the weight of their sins against their conscience. You juggle if you should be feeling it at all," the man laughed, exhaling a puff of smoke from his pipe. "Just a curious thing, is all."
"Oh and what are you, Sasheem's spirit guide?" the Majin asked snidely, standing up.
"Oh no," the stranger couldn't help but laugh. "Nothing like that. Don't think I quite have the credentials for that. I'm a craftsman by trade, if you must know."
"Well if ya can't help me, feel free to get outta my way!" Sasheem huffed.
"Why? Doesn't seem like you're going much of anywhere here..." the elder shrugged. Sasheem, intent on responding defiant trudged onward. It wasn't long before walking in a straight line ended up leading him in a complete circle, back to the stranger. "Told you so."
Sasheem raised his arms in objection, but simply crumpled to the floor, hungry. Whatever the nature of this place was, his ability to turn objects into food didn't' seem to work. In fact, nothing did. It was as if this darkness enveloping this place cancelled out all around it. He'd be more infuriated if he wasn't so famished. He didn't even bother throwing a barb back at the old man.
"If I may ask you a question...Hear you mention something about the Snake School?" the old man asked. "Are you a practitioner of one of the Five?
"The Ten now. But yeah...what of it?" Sasheem inquired, raising a brow.
"Hmm..." the old man hummed, as if making a mental note.
"What?"
"And you belong to the Snake?"
"Yes..." Sasheem sighed, picking himself up once more. "You got a point with this or ya wanna loop this conversation around one more time?" he asked, tired of things going round in circles.
"Just making sure. It's not spoken much of these days, the Snake. Or at least back when I was alive. It's said they lost their way," the old man explained.
"Yeah, they lost it alright. Then Sasheem showed 'em where that path would lead a little earlier than they intended. And before ya ask, Yeah. He was the one who wiped 'em out!" The Majin pointed to himself.
"In essence, expelling yourself from the School, had there been any survivors," the old man took another puff his pipe. "But the Snake were said to be a dwindling lot. But their secrecy was as necessary as it was to their detriment, I suppose. ...So, what was it that drew you back. You must've learned enough of their teachings to benefit yourself."
"Power," Sasheem admitted. If the cook and the grump were here, they'd never let him hear the end of it. The thought of all the 'I told you so's! alone were beginning to give him a migraine. "Sasheem wanted to learn all the techniques lost to time. Namely, the Yamata no Orochi Fist. Only the founder of the Snake ever mastered it. All his students and their successors either failed or died in the process. It required something they lacked....something Sasheem lacked. Spirtual balance. They tipped over too much to one side. Sasheem did as well, but he tried to rectify it."
Sasheem looked to the sky, towards the howling voices he was trying to drown out with this conversation. "He studied Doku's teachings. How the style was founded, what it all meant. To protect the Earth from outside threats and from itself...by any means necessary. Do the dark things the other four schools at the time weren't willing to do." Sasheem punched a fist into an open palm. "Sasheem thought he had it in the bag. Seemed like the solution was easy. Do bad things to bad people...."
"But..." the old man offered, sensing the Majin's next words.
"But in the end it was just an excuse. 'Cause more destruction in the name of justice. That's what it always was half the time. An excuse. Sasheem couldn't be the god of Destruction 'cause the forces of the universe favored some pompous Blueberry. He couldn't go out and wreck everything he wanted, 'cause in addition to half the strongest do-gooders in the galaxy forming their own little club, there was way too much competition...he thought he could join the 'good guys' and thin the herd. Buy his time and once all the so-called bad guys were down, he'd take their place."
"Sasheem wanted to destroy it all. The universe, the multiverse. You name it. Nothing personal for the most part. Just seemed like fun," Sasheem continued. "He didn't really care at first. Don't think he really could before he was able to speak, anyway. And destruction wasn't enough, Sasheem wanted to be recognized for it. For anything. Everyone'd either quake in fear or praise him as a hero. Didn't matter who he'd have to kill to do it, still doesn't. He wanted everyone in the universe o bask in his greatness either way."
"Did something change...?" the old man asked, looking idly off to the distance.
"Yeah...Sasheem grew to like the Earth. It was his territory. A place to call home..." he sighed, annoyed that he had to relay it all this sap to some old timer, when it was hard enough telling the Snake Mistress before. His words caused the old man to look at him once more, in consideration. "When Sasheem promised those two stupid goobers he'd protect the Earth while they went on the little Space Trek, he meant it. Not to make himself look good or prove a point. He doesn't care what they or any of those other losers think! If the Earth or any jabroni on it is in danger, Sasheem'll protect it! Recognition doesn't matter! Respect doesn't mean shit! Sasheem'll do it anyway! The Snake School...is the shadow of the other five! Of the ten! We've all got the same goal, but it don't matter if we're hailed as heroes or if our names are dragged through the mud! That's what your teachings taught Sasheem!"
Doku rose his eyebrows in a genuine but welcome surprise at Sasheem's deduction. An expression that became even more fitting as the Majin now kowtowed before him. "So with the Earth and the whole damn universe in danger of being unmade...Sasheem begs you. Teach him....your final technique!"