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

[bruceleegreyhulk]

Looking uncomfortable, "You see, to be honest, my people aren't all that, um, comfortable with non-Chromakai living on the planet yet. The only ones that have are Earth humans, but that's only because of their relationship to my sister. I mean, I know they will help Praxat's sister and Killrog, my sister is very open to healing and helping others and the Chromakai Intellectuals will help as well if my sister asks them too, but actually living there, that's another story. There's got to be someplace else where you can go."



"It's good to see that Qaceria is taking her responsibilities seriously. "

" Yeah, it is good that she's taking responsibility. Cyanna, what about Zykona and her brother going to either the homeworld of the Yardrats or Namek. could they stay at those either of those two worlds?" Praxat said.

"Mr. Gazaki wants to inform everyone here that my creator Qaztoh's message isn't finished," Mr. Gazaki said.

Mr. Gazkai continues playing Qaztoh's message." furthermore, I will not be the head of this new government. That position will go to an appointed prime minister. I will be the head of the state," The recording of Qaztoh said.

" Also, I want there to be a Qaceria and Choma alliance. I want the alliances my mother broke with previous planets to be restored. I want to restore alliances with the Mokaths, The Titans, and the other races we previously had an alliance to," The recording of Qaztoh said.

"I will fix the damage my mother has cause doing her reign. I will also make sure I will do all I can to fix The Toadian race's population problem," The recording of Qaztoh said.

" I know just the person for such a position, My mother Uraxat," Praxat said.

[bruceleegreyhulk]

On a distant planet where Qaztoh is doing community service, She gets a called from Nadlia. " Hey, Nadila, what's up? " Qaztoh said.

" Qaztoh it's about our relationship, I think we should see other people," Nadila said.

" So, you're not going to Qaceria with me in a few months, Nadila?" Qaztoh said.

" I'm afraid not. I have a lot of time to think about this. I have been a bad influence on you ever since we first met. So you don't need to be hanging around me, Qaztoh. We should part ways," Nadila said.

" Nadila, please don't leave me," Qaztoh said.

" It's for the best. I realize what we had wasn't true love. I'm even not sure about my sexuality. Maybe, I just realize I don't actually love you Qaztoh, and maybe I'm not gay," Nadila said.

" We should think long and hard about if we are truly met to be together," Nadila said.

Qaztoh closes her phone." She broke up with me. Nadila's probably right. Want we had wasn't true love," Qaztoh said.

" I think I'm gay, but maybe I'm really not. I need to explore my options," Qaztoh said as she questions her sexuality.

[bruceleegreyhulk]

" Yeah, it is good that she's taking responsibility. Cyanna, what about Zykona and her brother going to either the homeworld of the Yardrats or Namek. could they stay at those either of those two worlds?" Praxat said.

"Mr. Gazaki wants to inform everyone here that my creator Qaztoh's message isn't finished," Mr. Gazaki said.

Mr. Gazkai continues playing Qaztoh's message." furthermore, I will not be the head of this new government. That position will go to an appointed prime minister. I will be the head of the state," The recording of Qaztoh said.

" Also, I want there to be a Qaceria and Choma alliance. I want the alliances my mother broke with previous planets to be restored. I want to restore alliances with the Mokaths, The Titans, and the other races we previously had an alliance to," The recording of Qaztoh said.

"I will fix the damage my mother has cause doing her reign. I will also make sure I will do all I can to fix The Toadian race's population problem," The recording of Qaztoh said.

" I know just the person for such a position, My mother Uraxat," Praxat said.

"The stuff in Qaztoh's message about making alliances with other planets. With a constitutional monarchy, Qaztoh has no authority to do that. As the Head of state in a Constitutional monarchy, Qaztoh's political powers will be largely ceremonial," Araxat said.

" Qaztoh won't actually rule and will have very little authority. She will be a ceremonial figurehead!" Araxat said.

" As such Qaztoh, will have to remain strictly neutral and can't get involved with government affairs. Qaztoh will have no real decision-making power whatsoever!" Araxat said.

The one with actual authority in government affairs is whoever the Prime minster is that Qaztoh appoints!" Araxat said.

[grampagen]

The Central Point is everywhere; those who stand upon its circumference are lost, nowhere. There were a precious few who could find that point within themselves and realize that immense potential, but it was all so very fragile in the face of strife, and no tree can grow to Heaven unless their roots first reach down to Hell.

Standing to his feet, Ochazuke pressed a palm over his face. Feeling something solid beneath brought him back to his senses. When he looked up at the sun it was opaque, alit in burning orange.

The Tiger King's palace was burning.

Searching for that mystery that lay half a world away had left him quite disconnected to his current surroundings. Cursing his negligence, Ochazuke stood on weary legs and kicked off to flight, storming through the shattered halls as he passed through Girimekhala's tusked arch of demonic ivory. Breaking through the canopy, choking vapours followed the blaze downhill, and as he laid eyes on it and heard the sounds of rupture, clatter and screaming.

The Southern Gate of the Royal Palace was filled with pandemonium as people scrambled over one another to escape. Once they had been a steadfast bastion of order, and even now converted to a monastery, it had welcomed visitors then as now with a promise of refuge within a wonder of civilization. Now in their panic, these same picturesque walls became their cloister, and they were slowly closing in. Blasts erupted over the sacred pavilions, taking with it the raised markers to the legacy kings of old, shattering the blessed stone censer beside it. Long-burning prayers fell into the many arms of the lacquered idol, its tranquil face burning as camphor-perfumed ashes spread black plumes over the initiates' meditation chambers.

Ochazuke landed in the thick of it, and casting his palm out managed to snuff out a portion of the haze. Who would be so callous as to attack this place? He threw his hands down before him, and reinforced the palatial grounds with Ishiki Toei, and bolstered within a shell of ki, it would buy those caught up in the crossfire some time. Slowly he worked his way forward, starting with the residence of the custodian monks. Tearing the stony wreck before the door, he cleared an exit for those trapped inside.

"Guide them out of here. Go." The apprentices looked at each other, delaying for a moment as they tried to process what happened, but grateful for a way out began to move.

One by one their numbers dispersed, leaving only the senior monk at the last. The old man sat facing the wall, his shoulders trembling as the smoke rose. Witness to this, Ochazuke found himself dumbfounded. For one who

"A monk should not be so tethered to the material. You least of all, venerable one. This place can be rebuilt so long as its practices survive." Slowly, the elder turned toward him, and Ochazuke found it odd his words would stir him, for he did not entirely believe them himself. Suddenly, he recognized something exuding from the deep pits of the abbot's eyes. Killer intent following such a horrid look of rage upon his face as his lids split to exposed the whites of his eyes in the darkness.

"So you finally show your face. Bold of you to presume your still had any authority over me."

That voice. His pate was shaven and the years had hardened his visage, but despite his worn garb, there was no doubt. This was a face Ochazuke recognized, and a particularly fanatic zeal he had not seen for seven years. How wide the wings spread...and how far the shadow falls. Though old grudges may die hard...

"Now is not the time to settle this," Ochazuke replied. Slowly, he stepped forward, and began to raise his hands before him, repeating, "Evacuate the grounds."

"Traitor!" The elder raised a finger before him. It was a sharp motion he knew all too well, the space between seconds was all he had to interrupt. Swiftly wheeling inward, Ochazuke slipped beneath his arm and struck his fist deep into the man's solar plexus, folding him to unconsciousness, Denied breath, the saffron-robes slumped neatly over his shoulder, pressed into him with a hateful exhale. The apostate Crane plucked his fellow from the hollow of false worship. The monks, the instated custodians of this place, took their man, backing slowly away as Ochazuke raised his hand.

"If you value the truth of your cloth," he said, though that was now increasingly dubious "you will get these people to safety."

Casting out a sharp Kiai before him, an iron wind tore through the remains of the collapsing South Gate, unsealing the path to the bridge walkway. Fleeing sightseers and local merchants took the path of least resistance and swiftly disappeared under the flickering shadows of statue beasts and men of prayers that lined their way back to the common world. The acolytes left last, their eyes steeled before them, casting one last look behind them at the palace they were charged to guard as it disappeared in the smoke. Seeded among their number were those who had no power but the hateful glares, and the words passed between them and Ochazuke unspoken.

They would know he had been here without a doubt, but he had run from his sins long enough.

Slowly he counted them down, and not so much as a moment past the last straggler waddled over the rubble that he felt a sharpness in the air. Reflexively Ochazuke jerked his head back. A hot cylinder, boiling metal munition. It whistled past his ear without a sound, and yet through the air around him, its passage briefly struck him deaf and left standing unbalanced through the ringing as he dodged. Past his shoulder, it ripped a meters-wide gash through the courtyard wall behind him and disintegrated a path through the palm-orchards.

A hidden shooter...no...four, presences, rapidly converging. And at the centre of them...

Beneath the Dragon's Gauntlets, he felt his hands bound, the wraps taut as he squeezed his fists. Of all places, it would have to be here. The seat of the old kingdom was burning around him; without hesitation, he threw himself back into the fire.

A veil of burning swept over Ochazuke, when he flew forward, and the welling heaviness in the surrounding air was the only warning for him to guard as the world suddenly flashed white. He threw his hands upward against a fiery pressure that melted the stone around him into a shallow crater. Is this our arsonist? The wide blast zone caught him, but when he was shot down the very atmosphere seemed to collapse in on itself as his attacker poured on a greater deluge of energy. Thinning the violent torrent with Saifa Kensaku so he might to move, Ochazuke found only a glimmer swiftly filling the corner of his eye as ancient laterite tiles chipped and shattered in a straight line. A thin streak of light veiled in the tossing ashen debris slithered toward him; in this state, he could do little but narrowly dodge its path as it split his cloak. Gritting his teeth as it hewed a deep gash on his shoulder, directed energy from another shot past him. Falling through the towering Deva statue in the palatial square, a silent, clean cut split through as easily as a steel wire pressed through supple flesh.

There's two... The fire continued to cascade over him, wave after wave fell and demanding yet greater focus to keep it at bay, and while he attempted to halt any further damage to the grounds, it was with great reluctance that he'd realized the futility of his effort, for the palace was already lost. Abandoning the structural reinforcement he'd put his ki in, Ochazuke drew upon his full reserves as he reached up and seized the descending inferno. Sinking his fingers into it as he grappled with the mantle of energy, he disrupt its integrity and hurled it upwards.

Then with a faint blur, a shift in the air, and the third made himself known. Ochazuke swiftly found a hypersonic impact striking against his chest, a heaving gasp escaping him as a series of blows rained down in an instant. The shearing force that followed behind each blow seemed to linger and burrow into him, cold and heavy, a mechanical twisting ground pulverizing punches rooted in equally swift footfalls. The world grew hazy around him, he fought to maintain his grip as he ascertained the situation. Each strike... it's hardly random, marked by expert shifts in momentum... and the sonic burst that follow forced him onto the defensive, and though he managed to match the pace with Wolf's Prowl the shock from impacts alone tore at the incinerated prayer-domes, shattering the gated walkways to the royal antechamber at the heart of the Tiger King's palace.

Skilled ambush, and their numbers and coordination suggested a well-operated confidence. Though Earth had been merely a neglectful nexus in a wider, dire tale, these Red Raiders had not been idle. But now that Ochazuke knew where they were, with each blow pressed into his flesh, he got a feel for their method, slowly discerning the mettle of their ki.

[grampagen]

The deficiencies were quite narrow, but they existed. Discovering the gap between their thoughts and skills, now he could begin the counter attack.

His most immediate assailant was careless with his speed advantage reckless with his timing,. Halting his retreat, Ochazuke rooted his footing with Kokaku Sanchin, shift inward, and with Seisui Tensho tore the speedster off-course as he tossed him into the oncoming path of the assassin's blade. The glimmer soon diverted so as to spare a comrade, but as a result the attacker's position was compromised - and marked. Tossing a salvo of Senko Setsudan forward, they began to trace the cutting path back towards their caster. That's when he felt the mounting wave of pressure at his back. The firebrand would strike when he had the greatest opening, but this time Ochazuke was prepared. He would beat him to the draw, and with a Dodonpa Ochazuke reciprocated before another gout of hellfire could be cast; for the moment this gambit was successful as the rising heat haze in the area seemed to die down.

Gradually, the fires were diminished where the greater share of ruin had been consumed, and he stole the moment to move forward. Smoke parted, revealing the shattered nine golden spires, fallen to slag and cuting into the courtyard. Polished marble flooring stood exposed, laced with spreading cracks beneath the broken pillars that once received many foreign audiences to these lands. Ochazuke approached what was once the Royals' reception chamber, and he trembled to see who stood before him.

Atop the raised platform, standing before the empty throne, the purveyor of the Eight Limbs that once guided him stood facing away from him, her crimson tresses swaying over the dying inferno around her. He'd been chasing after her within memories, in a fearful duality. She'd run her paces backwards, beckoning him and the other of the last generation of students forward, yet as soon as he thought he'd caught up to her, with every step forward he'd only be able to chase after her back.

Always there was that degree of separation. Now that he stood before the last Master of the Tiger School, he finally found the resolve to speak her name.

"Kenshiko!"

Standing atop the stairway next to the ancestral seat behind the flames, the woman who crawled out of hell cast a long shadow over the royal chamber. Ochazuke braced himself for what may come as he stepped inside of it. and when he felt her eyes upon him,

the throne room caved in and burst. The walls behind her were blown apart under a tearing thunder sounded over the premises, and Ochazuke guarded against the hot scattering of dust.

When the violent ash parted, one hand was raised to Kenshiko's side. The other slowly lift a talkie to her face, a sharp, static crackle piercing the heaviness in the open air.

"I didn't call the shot, Corporal."

Hissing murmurs cut out from the line. Kenshiko lowered her smoking glove, tossing the spent tip of a peculiarly large bullet, swiftly caught by a waiting cybernetic hand. The squadron that had attacked him had encircled the area.

Three on the ground, one far off. But not once did he take his eyes off of her as she descended through the shattered visages of god-kings and chimeric demon-men that bordered the remains of the Tiger King's chair. The last time they met, he'd thought his words reached her. As history burned to ashes around them, Ochazuke felt as though his grasp on what he'd though he'd known was fast slipping away, every step forward landing less solidly beneath him.

Hand gilded in energy, Kenshiko lift it out before her, before slashing it through the air, cutting the columns of flame apart and clearing the haze and smoke in an instant. Her kiai is sharp.

"We gave the rabble a scare, now move out and finish the mission." That familiar voice once called out to stoke potential, now, loud and clear, it bore the burden of "Topside in ten, evac in fifteen. Go!"

With some reluctance, the three silently departed, leaving the master looking down upon her student as she descended past the stony visages that once guarded the throne, shattered god-kings and chimeric demon-men laying in ruins over a crumbling foundation. Soon Kenshiko met Ochazuke on level footing there was an unsettling calm about her presence. Hands at her side, the first thing he noticed were the fresh scars peeking out from the olive-drab.

"The Vermilion Unit of the Red Raiders. We thought it was appropriate for soldiers dedicated to fight for the forgotten."

Hard, worn boots fell upon the stone as she prowled, watching him. He'd been in this place before under different circumstances. Now as then, he dared not look away.

"Is that Rautt talking? Why are you by the Colonel's side again?" Ochazuke's battered limbs lay at his side, right shoulder weeping red through the cloak. A gaudy reflection of the double-axe 'RR' stitched atop the renewed military chevrons.

"The Colonel? Really?" she scoffed, "I though you'd know what it means to fight for a memory. Why else would you come back here?"

Through the silence, the fain wail of fleeing visitors and locals could be heard over the scrape of falling stone. "Deva lords, pretty little Apsaras, Makara and Garuda, they mean about as much to you as they do to the /farang/. Blissful, deaf gods, a prayer to them is a prayer wasted, they found their path, they can die upon it."

"But the story of Bya Kau is one we understand. The King is nothing without the warrior who will fight for him. Everything that's sprung up will fall empty without a protector. Though everything else falls apart, that strength we inherit is the last thing to die."

Immediately he knew as she did that there would be few words here. Despite the damage he'd sustained, Ochazuke slid one foot forward, flat upon the ground, resting his weight coiled upon the ball of his rear foot. Wary of her approach, he met her with the Crane Guard, and she rolled her neck and scoffed.

"So stiff. The old habit's drilled into your bones, even after all this time isn't it?"

Cautiously, he took a half-step back, attempting to maintain the distance; too late, for she was already upon him.

"But these are your true colours, aren't they, Ochazuke?"

She spoke the name with a hollowness reserved for a stranger, and it was no less jarring for him; yet as she strode towards him, he found his senses deaf to all but the danger.

"I know. Because I taught you better than to hesitate!"

[grampagen]

The structure of the Tiger Temple was built to reflect the idealized shape of a heavenly kingdom, and upon this spiritual ground, how fitting that built into the foundation of the ancient Wat was a large manmade pond. Situated before the North face, it was a resplendent mirror of the king's palace, the nine golden spires imitating the mythic peaks of the divine mountain. Redoubled in fixed perfection, in a manner it brought the earthly closer to heaven, while standing in stillness as a reminder of the intangible. The image reflected was pristine until the stray gesture of a drifting lotus stirred a ripple, Maya. Sky, earth and water separated to reveal the transient, insubstantial illusion.

Smoke rose over the palace of the Tiger King, black smoke of ruin climbing up to the heavens. Maya. Blooming lilies scattered over the dark water in the stone pond, reflecting an inverted world, godly shadows bleeding, wreathed in burning.

Leaning back on the defensive, Ochazuke sprung backward on long steps, strikes missing by a hair's breadth as he leaned and slipped to maintain distance from Kenshiko's deadly march forward. Fighting the Colonel's war has only sharpened her technique. So long as I don't lose sight of what's coming, she'll have to come to me.

But he had engaged the Tiger in her den, and her house already brought to ruin. The shockwaves of her strikes shattered the ashen lacquer and cracked stones to dust, cutting through these lingering images of the old world like burned paper. Hands raised to either side of her face, they began to crackle white as she charged her ki. His eyes hardened. He would recognize that technique all to well; it was how he met her sister, after all.

Swiftly he threw his finger foreard, casting a red Dodonpa before him to interrupt her charge, too late, for Kenshiko threw two hands forward and Ko-ou Kudaku-ken ate everything it its path as it smashed through everything. Rolling lingering energies - including those belonging to others - into itself, it swallowed the Dodonpa and carved a trench into the stone beneath their feet as it chased him, and he knew that when it caught up, it would detonate.

When his flight backward into the courtyard over the pond could no longer avail his escape, Ochazuke flew forward and cast a palm carrying the iron wind of Kongosho toward snuffing out the spark of the explosion, and though the rupture still struck him backward, the accumulated mass of the explosion had been mitigated. Unfortunately, focusing on this had allowed her to move forward unfettered and he felt her knee smash against his hasty guard. It was not a naked blow either, even through the bracers and the coiled wraps upon his arms, he felt the font of Kenshiko's ki carried through it, sharp coldness, softening to blood-hot.

It would be beautiful to watch if he could engage it at a remove. Trained instincts swiftly silenced those thoughts, and the memories within spurred on his movements.

Guarding his face with both hands left the back of his head open to grasp. He shot his elbow blindly upward to part her hands before they could clinch and took a step to the outside. Kenshiko had already switched her lead to throw more torque behind her followup kick. Ko-ou Retsukyaku swung to take his leg from the inside, hard like a single-edged blade. Not this time. Leg tucked in, raised, he felt the clash of bone-on-bone in his lower shin as he checked the strike and the ki shrouding it.

As far as Ochazuke had come to reach this moment, he knew he could reach her; but matching Kenshiko right now, with all that balanced on the edge of being lost forever? Wading through this torrent of emotions, the pain stung, his breaths falling heavy, tapping into the planet to find the path of Zxu'ro had left him increasingly aware of all of this, and with such stark clarity, his focus began to wane.

When the straight teep kick came down the centre, his lead hand parried it; all the Tiger Master had to do was preserve the momentum, reset, and swing the leg again into her true target, his wounded shoulder. Despite bracing for it, the weight of the strike cut through his arm as if it wasn't even there, and a shock spread through the entire limb. Gritting his teeth though he sought to take advantage of this split-second opening, and holding fast, he charged a [b]Dodonpa[/p] from point-blank and fired it into her torso, the explosion throwing her back. Kenshiko skid to a stop on all fours, trembling, her teeth pressed into a half-smile. A glimmer of their shared past, this fight marred with a shadow of pride. Tearing her flak jacket off a black tank, he saw how the world marked itself in white scars over tanned skin, her frame solid, lean, forged from a hunger that was her greatest strength, for her eyes sought their prey.

"One-hit, one-kill. That's what the Cranes called it, right? What a load of bullshit," she smirked, "I've studied your moves, don't tell me that's all you've got!"

She would have. The manual of Zxu'ro he'd left in her possession was meant to be something for her to make penance with, to give her something to return to. But when Jagam had come, he had thrown himself far too deeply into training. He'd abandoned her again, and this was the result.

I won't lose you again.

Leaning in as she forward, her approach was relaxed, prepared to walk through any resistance he might offer. He spread his meditation field, observing, waiting, and suddenly to his senses, something stabbed at them like sunlight through sleep-drenched eyes. Searching for something, he inched backward; She walked forward, unburdened, without a thought in the world.

This is not her usual stance

A subtle twitch was the only warning. He raised his lead to check the kick; though swiftly chambered, it cut through his own shin, the impact spilling around to the thigh as she tore him off balance. Loosing a grunt of pain, Ochazuke narrowed his guard to evade the clinch, and their limbs knotted as their tied one another up. She pulled him inward.

Below!

A sharp knee raised up; he sunk his guard down and let his arm take the hit, but even a glancing blow was laced by that destructive ki, and as Ochazuke froze for that split-second of shearing pain, Kenshiko was already flowing into the next move. This close, fists were useless. Her elbow hooked around his forearm and gashed him straight across the temple, and he felt the edge of his right eye bloom and darken.

He moved to clash against her, and could sense every minute articulation before it came, and yet it somehow it did not seem to matter. Every time he tried to catch her, Kenshiko slipped out of his grasp with an evasiveness like sand; as he pressed into her, she flowed with him, fluid, uncontrollable, yet reforming in an instant when her solid strikes cut into him down the bone. Her hands still guided his, this time with lethal purpose. The very same that honed those skills, the legs whose balanced strides he sought to follow. Seething, he stubbornly pressed forward, and sacrificed his balance. Kenshiko tore him off centre and tossed him through the ground.

Carving a trench and unearthing the stone from the muddy banks, Ochazuke pressed himself up, his stance shaky. After all this time, was this still the gap between them?

[Tami]

"The stuff in Qaztoh's message about making alliances with other planets. With a constitutional monarchy, Qaztoh has no authority to do that. As the Head of state in a Constitutional monarchy, Qaztoh's political powers will be largely ceremonial," Araxat said.

" Qaztoh won't actually rule and will have very little authority. She will be a ceremonial figurehead!" Araxat said.

" As such Qaztoh, will have to remain strictly neutral and can't get involved with government affairs. Qaztoh will have no real decision-making power whatsoever!" Araxat said.

The one with actual authority in government affairs is whoever the Prime minster is that Qaztoh appoints!" Araxat said.

"Don't you think, maybe, the people of this planet should be given a chance to decide what kind of government they want? Why not let them vote on it. Give them some choices, let them discuss it, then let them vote on it." Cyanna, "That's often how it done on many worlds."

[bruceleegreyhulk]

"Don't you think, maybe, the people of this planet should be given a chance to decide what kind of government they want? Why not let them vote on it. Give them some choices, let them discuss it, then let them vote on it." Cyanna, "That's often how it done on many worlds."

" Yeah, I do think the people of this planet should be given a choice to decide what kind of government they want," Araxat said.

Praxat contacts Qaztoh." Qaztoh, when you get back in a few months there, needs to be a meeting about what type of government to establish. Meeting where the people can vote and decide the government they want," Praxat said.

Praxat closes her cellphone." Cyanna, I contacted Qaztoh. I told her that there should be a public meeting to decide Qacriea's government," Praxat said.

" Hmm looks like I have enough strength to do this," Araxat said.

Araxat teleports away and then reappears with Disdemona's sword and Xiflon's crossbow. She hands the sword to Praxat and the crossbow to Cyanna." Here these are for you two," Araxat said.

" Yes, having a public meeting where the people can vote and decide what type of government they want is a good idea," Althena said.

[Tami]

" Yeah, I do think the people of this planet should be given a choice to decide what kind of government they want," Araxat said.

Praxat contacts Qaztoh." Qaztoh, when you get back in a few months there, needs to be a meeting about what type of government to establish. Meeting where the people can vote and decide the government they want," Praxat said.

Praxat closes her cellphone." Cyanna, I contacted Qaztoh. I told her that there should be a public meeting to decide Qacriea's government," Praxat said.

" Hmm looks like I have enough strength to do this," Araxat said.

Araxat teleports away and then reappears with Disdemona's sword and Xiflon's crossbow. She hands the sword to Praxat and the crossbow to Cyanna." Here these are for you two," Araxat said.

" Yes, having a public meeting where the people can vote and decide what type of government they want is a good idea," Althena said.

Taking the crossbow, Cyanna looked it over with silent excitement, "Are you sure? You don't need it here?" She then smiled, "Thank you, I promise to take good care of it."

[bruceleegreyhulk]

Taking the crossbow, Cyanna looked it over with silent excitement, "Are you sure? You don't need it here?" She then smiled, "Thank you, I promise to take good care of it."

" Yeah, it's not needed here. This is the last thing I'm doing because I know I'm going to prison for a long time. I have examined the crossbow, and for my analysis of it," Araxat said.

" I have a theory that it allows arrows to teleport and to bypass force fields via teleportation, and also empowers arrows with the user's energy. base on its name, Wormhole Crossbow," Araxat said.

" Mr.Gazaki has to be going now. Creator left it up to Mr. Gazaki to introduce her serum to the water supply," Mr. Gazaki said. Mr. Gazaki flies off and gets to work.

Introducing Qaztoh's serum to the water supply. Back on top of the Gukraimano, Demjiri looks at her sister." Zykona, where do you want to go? Do you want to go to the homeworld of the Yardrats or Namek?" Demjiri said.

" Let's go to this, Namek it sounds nice," Zykona said.

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

She pauses, then bows back.

“I have not been called that in a long time.”

She gesture and Kyu runs over, standing beside her.

“How can I help you, Goddess?”

"Not sure what else to call you, to be honest." Inanna replied somewhat sheepishly. "Zxu'ro's journal only refers to you as that." As for what she needed help with, that was a simple enough matter to explain. "While this trip is as much to sate my own curiosity ... I'm here because we've recovered several of the dragonballs you managed to take and hide away; and I feel learning as much as I can about the original group who managed to stop Eldfen may go some lengths toward helping me do the same should it be necessary."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"Not sure what else to call you, to be honest." Inanna replied somewhat sheepishly. "Zxu'ro's journal only refers to you as that." As for what she needed help with, that was a simple enough matter to explain. "While this trip is as much to sate my own curiosity ... I'm here because we've recovered several of the dragonballs you managed to take and hide away; and I feel learning as much as I can about the original group who managed to stop Eldfen may go some lengths toward helping me do the same should it be necessary."

She nods.

“Kyuubi is a title. Please, call me Kana.”

She pats her daughter then gestures to the stairs.

“My dragonball remains untouched up those stairs. As to any questions, I will answer them in regards to Eldfen.”

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

She nods.

“Kyuubi is a title. Please, call me Kana.”

She pats her daughter then gestures to the stairs.

“My dragonball remains untouched up those stairs. As to any questions, I will answer them in regards to Eldfen.”

"Good, good ... Kana." Inanna said with a smile.

"I suppose the main thrust of my questions has to do with Eldfen himself. What was he after, all those years ago ... and how did a group of your composition come to be so opposed ?"

[Sub-Zero MKA]

The recorded words of Vocado, held within two dozen leather bound journals, contained countless secrets of the race's past. Historians on Langal were having a field day sifting through his every day activities and finding nuggets that would have been of interest to the people at large. One such was that he and his Nevadian wife had three half-breed children, further disproving the notion that purebred Saiyans were above finding mates and forming families with other races. Another bit was that he was the only Super Saiyan in his lifetime. A fact they had been hoping was the truth, and now had confirmation.

Within the last pages of the final journal he used before his death, there was one shocking revelation: the location of the Saiyan homeworld. The true Saiyan homeworld.

Vocado had served as the Saiyans' second home for two millennia, but everyone knew that they weren't from there originally. The efforts to find the world Glacier took them from were helter-skelter at best. It wasn't a priority, but it was of interest two the serving kings and queens of the past.

Sarada was no different. She was always keen to find any worlds with some kind of Saiyan population to bring them into the Empire. Even if the true homeworld wasn't inhabited, she wanted it located and accessible to them, for sentiment's sake.

A pair of Langalian historians briefed Sarada on their findings. “King Vocado didn't have the exact star coordinates, obviously, but he did have a clear description of the constellations from stories passed down by his grandfather. Including drawings.” One of them handed a set of papers to her. On them were several crudely drawn... drawings. Lines and shapes that represented the different constellations visible from the planet. A bear. A dipping ladle. A belt. A man with a bow.

“We narrowed it down to the Andromeda star system. Out of those worlds, this one is the most likely planet.” The other gave her a holographic map portraying a rather large planet. It was hard to tell from the monochrome color scheme, but it appeared that there were mountains, two oceans, and more rivers than she could count. That many bodies of water meant animals. Animals meant hunters. Being natural hunters, such a planet was perfect for Saiyans.

She rubbed her chin in thought. “How far is this planet from here?”

“In the new ship Princess Parsley brought with her years ago, I'd say a two day trip, there and back.”

That was better than she thought. “Alright. You two and two others go to this planet and investigate. See if there are any lifeforms, any people, edible food, all that.” Sarada's orders given, the two historians bowed and left swiftly to prepare.

They, named Okcho and Sellerie, gathered two more Saiyans for their research group, including Corra, one of the Saiyans trapped on Turrip during the Tuffle occupation. Instead of picking another intellectual, they chose someone to serve as muscle, just in case something went wrong.

They chose Avoca, who was the third strongest Saiyan on Vocado.

“Wouldn't you much rather have a Super Saiyan come with us?” Sellerie asked her brother. “That one is a little weak, don't you think?”

“Hmph. She's strong enough. Stop wasting time.” He walked ahead of the two and boarded Parsley's ship. Avoca was lagging behind.

Sarada was the one who signed off on the team. Meaning she knew that they wanted Avoca to come with them.

She still knew that she was way behind Parsley and Sarada. Being third strongest on the planet – or empire, really, and no, Inanna didn't count – didn't matter much when the top two were not only miles ahead, but were also Super Saiyans. She was nowhere close to achieving that kind of power. Sometimes she thought she would never achieve it. She discovered it years ago, training with Sarada and then with Parsley.

They were light years ahead of her, both in power and technique. They had been honed by actual combat, while she had been milling around at home ever since Mato dissolved the conquest aspect of their army. She hadn't been in a real world combat situation in literal years, since the Tournament of Destiny. Even that was simulated to a degree, as it wasn't to the death. Her wife and sister-in-law had been fighting with their lives on the line for years, all thanks to that planet Earth.

One of these days, I have to visit this planet Earth again and see what the big deal is. Her son wouldn't shut the **** up about it and these supposedly “super strong and cool” humans that he and Sarada interacted with during their visit yesterday.

She always scoffed at the very notion of being able to learn anything from the lowlife worms that lived on that planet, and yet, the proof was right there in front of her very eyes. There was something going on, and she wanted in on it.

Climbing aboard the ship, she dropped her dufflebag and kicked it under her seat. As she sat down and strapped in, she took stock of these nerds she was supposed to be protecting. Two of three were wearing glasses and there wasn't a muscle to be found. She assumed, anyway; the lone man was wearing some kind of sophisticated and subtle body armor, so there was no telling what she was packing under it.

The other two women with her weren't much in a fight, that much she knew. Especially the Turripian; at least the Langalians appreciated the benefit of occasional training and sparring in between their bouts of book reading and learning.

Psh.

Corra could hardly sit still without standing to look at some aspect of the ship more closely. “Wow,” she whispered, her barely audible voice full of admiration and complete awe. “This technology is unlike anything I've ever seen. Just look at this.” She started rattling off complete gibberish that Avoca assumed would have made sense if anyone else there was technologically inclined. Instead, it sounded like the woman was speaking in tongues.

“Hey, Poindexter,” Okcho grunted irritably, “get a move on, will you.”

Corra cut him a glare and sat down in the pilot's seat. “Tch. Pot, meat kettle,” she answered snidely before initiating the launch sequence. The First Race vessel shot out of the docks and into space in a heart beat. Once they were clear of Vocado's atmosphere, she activated hyperdrive. “Hang tight. Next stop, Planet Mystery!”

Avoca closed her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. More than likely, this planet was probably inhabited by some run-of-the-mill backwater race that wasn't much compared to even these geeks, much less an actual warrior like her. There wasn't going to be much for her to do besides kill some locals to set an example to the rest of the rabble.

[grampagen]

Through Kyokushin, Ochazuke made an attempt to learn some hidden meaning to what lay below.....and only met with incomprehensible knowledge. It many ways it was akin to staring at a bizarre jigsaw puzzle....the deep hid layers of machines, the lingering flow of magic, and no obvious reason or purpose in the placement of anything. He could see the picture, and yet lacked the frame of reference to make sense of it.

Yet it was when ring and fragment came together that he learned something of note.

Magic instantly flowed from ring to shard....and with a current flowing through it, the material seemed revitalized in some small capacity....even acting as an extension to the ring, giving off a similar type of energy now that the two were in contact. Pulling the ring away would dim it somewhat, but not completely.

Glancing at the subtle body withing the Orichalum structures, there was a faint resonance between the matter of this ruin and the ring marking an Amdapour Lord. If this was once Arthur's kingdom perhaps he saw nothing left to save. Yet one who had risen to the mantle of Guardianship had likely known of the things nestled in the darkness. Perhaps he had been one of the last knights of this fallen kingdom? Whatever the case, the disparities in spellcraft continued to elude him. Mysteries within mysteries. Yet he noted the connection between ring and the mage machinery of Persephone's Tomb.

As they continued to walk along, Ochazuke silently pondered the long-silent depths of this ancient band. What fragile dreams lay in the grasp of a lord's hand? The amount of control the Mage Queen wielded over the heart of the Speaker's Mountain was enormous in its range and scope; extended from her will, she likely held her subjects close. Yet with the corruption of the Royal Guard...

If not for their protection, to what end?

As he investigated further, the group had begun their decent into the depths below.

Conjured light in hand, Morgan took the lead. First though the ruins in the outer layer...and then further inside. Old halls hung heavy with age, and a surreal unnaturalness that felt slightly unnerving. Large chambers filled with strange, broken devices, empty containers...even a few mold colonies formed from rotting materials that could not be identified. Perhaps investigating the mold may have came to the mind of one of the more adventurous members of the group....but when it starting staring at them with multiple eyes, Morgan elected they not stay for a staring contest.

Soon they passed large specimen chambers...alien flora blooming in dilapidated gardens, dinosaur corpses in preserving liquid, not quite dinosaur corpses in preserving liquid.

....and not quite dinosaurs that still had enough life in them to scratch the inside of their containers.....and were still scratching them....

Finally, they came to a bulkhead somewhere deep within the structure. It was still intact, and the only point of access seemed to be a glyphed wall fragment off to one side. Morgan wasted no time in beginning her inspection.

"...." The royal familiar traced her finger along one of the glyphs. "This.....This is it. I think.....Give me a moment, I'm going to try and open this."

As Morgan continues to trace, those in the group not focused on a task could sense an energy moving towards them from the opposite direction. Fairly quickly in fact....the aura of their surrounding making it difficult to get a bead on what exactly. They have a moment to prepare before whatever it is emerges into the hallway.

Zaofan followed close behind, though his pace was notable staggered the moment they passed by the fungal colonies. Even in the maw of a dread undying, old habits died hard, and while the creeping garden was likely the result of some other practice, they nonetheless plucked at his inner gastronomer.

Always on the move for strange new ingredients - despite the events that led up to him being here in the first place - he turned to examine the wall of mold, and lift his hand to pluck the spore-bloom...and slowly retraced his hand when they all stared back at him. And while the botanical gardens seemed slightly more agreeable, the rows of dinosaur preserves did enough to turn his mind from this.

Ochazuke looked over the saurian specimens, and a disgruntled grunt left him. They could not have been too far removed from the contemporary species that yet roamed the savannas and tropical woodlands, and as he looked upon the thrashing fangs, the choking maw yet unable to drown in its effluvial suspension inside its glass prison, his teeth began to audibly grind.

Then he sensed it. Looking over to Zaofan - still rubbing his chin at a less lively sample - the chef recirpocated, thumbing the silver band over his crown and readying his katchin staff.

Facing away from Morgan as she worked at the glyphs, the chef let loose with a widespread Ruby Taiyoken, flooding the environs with a sharp red light that blotted out every wick of a shadow in a bid to create an opening. Sinking his feet into a stance, Ochazuke applied his field of sense-awareness and drew on the environment to trace his opponent with Muhen Seikai Keihatsu and get a bead on what it was they were dealing with.

Once he found that out, he would be able to mark the target.