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

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Ochazuke let the Saiyan Queen have the last word without refutation; after all, he had already set the task.

Moreover, in the first step of this evaluation, there had already emerged a limitation. If there were to be any pittance of a victory to be found in this exchange, it would be lacking for anybody.

Decisive, rash, and of limited perspective. Even after all this time...it is difficult for you to comprehend what is outside the reach of your fists.

Perhaps it had not registered to Sarada in the moment, if neither memory nor their common purpose was sufficient for her to recall why he and Zaofan had embarked to find Auroc in the first place.

It may behoove you to notice that we've been sharing our culture with you for five years already. By the scars rendered upon our world had yours remained intact.

Auroc, the Doctor...plateaus long since surpassed, what value remained in looking back? Perhaps in time, the length to which he would go to fight for his world would become apparent.

Likely when her choleric nature had settled. What a task that would be.

We have a long way to go.

Sarada watched him leave silently with a slight frown. They had all changed, and not for the better.

"Well, as needs must, I suppose. Still, I suppose it goes without saying I'd highly recommend it, every so often as you can manage. Taking something out of the world, extracting quality out of it with a little change, even if it's something new or strange, it's a surprisingly nuanced and contemplative process."

"Sometimes the season isn't right, or ingredients aren't ideal or exactly what you want, or god forbid the pantry is a bit lean. In these instances, you'll have to make do."

Flattening a clover of garlic with his knife, Zaofan paused for a moment as he mulled over how two planets of such stellar distances apart could have the exact same produce.

"...whoa, yeah, that is weird," he said, shuffling the puree aside, "Though if you think about it, it seems in the broad strokes our diets are..." Half of the pies were already gone. "...compatible, heh. When in doubt, listen to your gut."

"I guess Asha'rah got lazy when ironing out the finer details," Sarada remarked with a soft chuckle. In the end, she would rather experience a different world with similar foods to hers than one with completely foreign foods. While it was always exciting to eat new things, she really didn't want to eat something that looked normal, only to find out it was highly toxic or something.

She sighed heavily. "I'll see if I can take a day a week to have some time to myself in the kitchen. If nothing else, it'll give me some quality time with my daughter and niece and nephew."

Zaofan watched the toddler took the food without complaint. Not a single scrap of meat, extra sugar, or flavour enhancer, and it was disappearing rather quickly.

"Heh, always keeping it fresh," he nodded, "Sweet and savoury, one of the classics."

At her statement, Zaofan, raised an eyebrow, and began to whittle at a zucchini end.

"And I thought you said she had a problem with taking vegetables! Really, never thought a picky eater'd come out of your family," he grinned.

"But, ah, don't take this the wrong way, but how was it that the chef knew, and yet you didn't?"

She sighed heavily and set the empty dishes aside. "I can't spend as much time with her as I'd like," she admitted. "My days the last few months are spent in countless meetings. By the time I get done for the day, she's already been put to bed." When she got pregnant, she had it in her head that she would be able to lighten her schedule for the first few years so she could spend as much time with her child as possible.

Then Tundra happened.

It wasn't like the battles she fought with the M-Fighters, where they killed the enemy and then dealt with certain aspects of the fallout. That time, she had to deal with all the fallout. And that took time. Something had to give, and sadly, her child got pushed aside.

It wasn't out of the ordinary, but she did resolve to herself to take a more personal role in raising her child.

"I do what I can when I can. I'm... actually shouldn't even be here right now. I'm supposed to be in a meeting, but I saw a chance to do something with her, so I left. They can wait, I guess."

[MrSandman]

"Liddul... Green," the small girl sounded out. She grinned, bearing a set of small fangs, and reached out to pat the mini Etrina on the head. "Liddul Green!"

"Zzzz....huh..." The Green Foci tilted under the relentless onslaught. "....please don't eat me....I'm not a lentil...."

Forgot to eat? Sarada supposed nerds like Etrina would forget the more important things in life. Then again, Parsley was also a nerd, but she hadn't missed a meal in her life. "That's shocking. How could she willingly deprive herself of your cooking?" Every word Sarada said sounded like an ancient alien tongue, it was just that incomprehensible.

"Longing makes it better...." The Foci mumbled sleepily. ".....like coffee......"

The Foci made a sleepy but totally obvious gesture to Zaofan.

"I wanna coffee..."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"You!" Etrina spins, foci cards in hand as she points an accusatory finger in Calibans direction. "You.....You all...." She stumbles a moment as her eyes glaze over.

"You....*hic*....yer jus deaf...if anyone iz sayin yer funny.....its yer face their talking abut, ya dam green turd..." Etrina wheels around, spinning an accusatory finger at everyone. "AN DAT GOES FER THE REST OF YA! *hic* ALL HUNDRED AND ONE OF YA! I'd kick yer teeth in if I wasnt doin ya looks a favor...*hic*..."

Swinging the white foci card outwards as if she were playing a childrens card game, Etrina let out a shout. "I ACTIVATE MA *HIC* TRAP CARD!"

Then she slapped it into the face of the nearest Caliban.

He blinks at her.

“That it?”

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

And then there were a dozen of him.

Parsley gritted her teeth as her ax came spinning toward her with one of those damned cards attached to the handle. The moment she grabbed it, whatever effect it carried would be transferred to her. Magic being what it was, it would have been prudent to avoid it. She activated the ax's anti-magic properties, which negated the return enchantment, as well as - with hope - whatever the card was. She flipped over it to let it sail off into the distance, then turned her attention to the several Calibans.

Her narrowed eyes focused on the grouping as she amped up her observation powers with her magic sense to see past the copies to find the real Caliban.

Observational Focus + Muda!

Her ax slowly turns around and silently heads towards her back, the card pulsing slightly.

The real Caliban is.......sitting on a chair about a 100 yards away, sipping a fruity looking drink under a minor illusion spell to look invisible.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"Oh...I was wondering if it would be you." Etrina crossed her arms with a sigh. "Yes....I hope your getting a kick out of all this. Acting awfully surprised for the one who made a big deal about I drank that potion.....though congratulations, I suppose your prediction that we'd have a talk someday came true."

Etrina eyed the binder for a moment. "Just for the record, I come in peace....though I suppose you could have came to that conclusion already. Likely know what I want as well. So lets cut the interlude out.....There will be time enough for you to mock me over tea after I've heard what she has to say."

The mage raised an eyebrow. "Unless I have to perform some sort of quest or ceremonial dance to earn an audience.....Banespell wasn't clear on that part."

Lady Binder nods.

“Very well! To mother we go!”

She flits around Etrina, and slowly magical dust begins to fall upon her.

“Just hold on! We have to adjust your size for a moment......”

Etrina, you begin shrinking.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Her ax slowly turns around and silently heads towards her back, the card pulsing slightly.

The real Caliban is.......sitting on a chair about a 100 yards away, sipping a fruity looking drink under a minor illusion spell to look invisible.

Found him!

The bastard must have thought it was a game. To see him sitting down and relaxing with one of those girly drinks was insulting. Her eyes narrowed. With Caliban in her sights, she prepared to strike.

She told him at the outset that she hypothesized that she may have been able to copy any spell she had ever seen or encountered. She could do it with ki attacks; magic should have been well within her capabilities to mimic. Even if she didn't fully understand the mechanics of the spell or have a grasp over the affinity, simply copying it was more than possible for her. She was, after all, the foremost prodigy in Saiyan history. A rarity amongst her race as one able to even comprehend magic, much less utilize it to the degree she was able. She bent down and scooped up some dirt from the ground.

“Switch!”

Her ax is replaced by a blank card, while Caliban hefts the weapon now instead.

“Nice axe.”

Perfect Replication - Switch

Using his own spell against him, Parsley attempted to switch the handful of dirt for some of the cards that Caliban had in his deck.

[Monstrous Bird of Qin, Ou Ki]

Tasure appeared on Nevada, right... at the home of Voyavoda. Right next to him, in fact. The old soldier looked up from his meal, cocking an eyebrow.

"Ah, Tasure... to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Tasure grinned. "Gathering together a group for some hardcore training. Heard about you helping against the Threshlings. Haha, you old ****, to think you were hiding such power."

She would've been mad, but knew exactly why he'd done so... namely that she wouldn't have left him alone, when younger. Nothing quite got a young saiyan's blood pumping like a strong opponent to fight or spar against. Despite her calm nature, she was no different deep down... even now.

"Hiding... no, not hiding. I was already in decline by the time we met, and only used the full extent of my power, as available to that decrepit form, whenever necessary." Well, that made sense... he did seem younger now that she thought about it. Something about phoenix blood?

Tch, didn't matter.

"Yeah yeah... so, you in?"

Voyavoda was silent for a moment, and his eyes shone with the Shingan. For a brief moment, they flicked to the side, and there was brief... surprise in his expression. Tasure looked over her shoulder and saw... nothing? Turning back to her old friend, she cocked her eyebrow. "See something?"

"Mmm, no, nothing you need concern yourself about," said Voyavoda. He finished off his drink, then stood. "As appealing as your offer is, I have pressing business to attend to... why not drag Bekon into the training in my stead? He could use the exercise."

Disappointing, but now that she thought about it... that alternate of her boy might appreciate being able to spend a bit of time with both his parents. And Bekon definitely needed to get off his ass and get some training in. He was plenty attractive as he was, but gods, if he could give her a pounding in a fight like he used to be able to... well, that would be fuckin' awesome.

"Shame, Damn shame... but seems like whatever you've got planned is important. I'll get out of your hair. Take care, old man." She put her index and middle finger to her forehead.

"May your travels bring you fortune..."

And with that, Tasure's form disappeared as she teleported back to Earth.

[Monstrous Bird of Qin, Ou Ki]

The subsequent conversation with the Dark King after his mention of Vaikuntha had been brief. A cursory explanation of what it was--the realm of a god, apparently--and some suggestions as to how to gain entry. The owner, that Threshling Princess, was associated with the group, so tailing one of them and sneaking in--easy for some who could assume a form of pure, invisible psychic energy--was quite easy. And so, he chose to shadow his mother.

Her daily routine was pretty boring. Wake up, eat, train, eat some more, train, eat, all interspersed with... mother and grandmother stuff. By no means was she like a human mother, but compared to the distant and somewhat harsh mother he remembered from his childhood, she was far more involved and affectionate. As 'Totoma' watched, a dull pain rose up within him... he didn't really have a physical body, so it was more a psychic pain, but he desperately wanted to reclaim his body and his life from that imposter.

Who, he learned, had gotten himself killed and was now training in the afterlife. That both angered and pleased 'Totoma'. It was good, because it meant that once he came back, he'd be much stronger and thus his fall would be much, much more painful, but it was also bad because the imposter was treating his body with reckless abandon. All to save some jackass bigwig.

Feh.

Regardless, it didn't take long for 'Totoma' to figure out that those knives his mom carried were her key into this Vaikuntha. One day, she entered it, then came out, teleported halfway across the planet, and once he followed, he found...

...himself? What the hell?

A brief, subtle scan on this other him's mind revealed the truth: he was from an alternate timeline.

...

Alright, that was weird, and he wasn't going to question it... or start trouble, because why bother?

After a brief exchange, she let this other him into Vaikuntha, then teleported again. He followed, of course, and found that she had teleported to... Voyavoda. He manifested behind his mother, still hidden... or so he thought.

Voyavoda's gaze flicked to the right, and settled directly on him. The change in expression told him everything... he saw him, or at least sensed him somehow. 'Totoma' prepared himself for a battle, but then...

"Mmm, no, nothing you need concern yourself about." The old soldier had decided not to inform his mother about his presence. And soon enough, his mother left back to Earth, but this time he did not follow. This was too much of a security risk, and right now the old man was isolated, so... while he didn't want to do this...

"You might as well reveal yourself. I know you're there," said Voyavoda, almost immediately after Tasure's departure.

Totoma's image shimmered into existence as he solidified the psychic energy that made up his 'body'. He had to do this to fight, in the conventional sense, and since he needed to tie up this... security breach, it was necessary. Argh, he really didn't want to do this... he had fond memories of play-fighting with Voyavoda as a kid, as well as hanging out with his family, but... but... this was necessary, because he himself was dangerous and even more dangerous was the possibility of the others finding out.

"Well, this is unexpected... I would ask why you're not in the afterlife, but... no, you're not that Totoma, are you?" Voyavoda cocked his head and gave him a once over with the Shingan. "You feel like him, but your body is... hm... a psychic manifestation. How interesting. Now why were you tailing Tasure, hm?"

'Totoma' remained silent as Voyavoda's eyes bored into him, briefly making eye contact, and then immediately regretting it. Totoma averted his eyes.

"Silent, hm? Well, regardless, I am sensing a mixture of killing intent and hesitation from you... I suppose you mean to kill me now that you've been found out?"

The 'half-saiyan' hesitated for a moment, then answered: "Yes, sorry, gramps, but I can't risk you telling the others. You have to die."

Voyavoda sighed. "I won't go down without a fight, I hope you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"Good. Now, at the very least, tell me, what are you?"

What was he? He almost answered with a simple 'Totoma', but that was who he was, not what he was. Nor did it really explain how he came to be. Voyavoda at least deserved that much.

"I... well, I'm Totoma. A few years ago, I made a stupid decision, was ripped from my own body by that bitch Kami, and nearly snuffed out of existence. My, ah, benefactor rescued me from oblivion and preserved my... hm, well, I'm a psychic being now, so I'm not really alive? My existence, I guess. I serve him to bring about a world where stuff like that doesn't happen... and get my body back from that imposter."

Voyavoda remained silent for a moment, evidently processing what was said. "Benefactor? I see, so this was not of your own doing... but I believe you are mistaken in calling your other an 'imposter'. If he is, then he is certainly the most convincing actor I've met in my thousands of years of life."

Anger was the immediate feeling he got from that response. "Not an imposter? That's dumb! I had my body stolent and taken over by... by... something! He took my body, he took the girl I love, he took my life. It's mine... MINE MINE MINE!" The floor cracked as he punctuated his last three words with foot stomps.

"...childish. I can only guess as to what the situation here is, but I am acutely aware of one thing: tantrums need to be met with discilpine."

Totoma would have answered, but almost immediately his precognition warned him of danger... and before he could even think to react to that warning, he was sent flying through the wall of the house and over the landscape by Voyavoda's fist burying itself in his stomach. Impacting a few moments later in a barren, magma-torn landscape, he skidded to a stop. He got to his feet just as Voyavoda caught up, stepping out of a cloud of dust, gas, and steam. All around them, Magma bubbled and churned all around them.

Their aura burst into existence, agitating this hellish landscape of brimstone and fire even further.

"You deluded child," he said. "It's time for you to grow up."

He charged at Totoma, who me the old soldier with a charge of his own. Their fists met, a shockwave of ki, psionic, and burning Shingan energy erupting outwards as the battle commenced...

[grampagen]

"I guess Asha'rah got lazy when ironing out the finer details," Sarada remarked with a soft chuckle. In the end, she would rather experience a different world with similar foods to hers than one with completely foreign foods. While it was always exciting to eat new things, she really didn't want to eat something that looked normal, only to find out it was highly toxic or something.

She sighed heavily. "I'll see if I can take a day a week to have some time to myself in the kitchen. If nothing else, it'll give me some quality time with my daughter and niece and nephew."

Sarada sighed and Zaofan pursed his lips before setting to his next task.

"Just a suggestion, really," he said. "But, I understand."

"It seems everyone's so busy these days, stuck in their own head, that we all forget to come up for air once in a while. Sometimes, I feel like we've been gone fighting for so long, it feels like we're starting to forget what we're fighting for."

Certainly they'd all become stronger, and by happenstance or sheer dedication, their journey seemed to bring them closer to the primordial mysteries of not just this Universe, but all of Creation itself stretching back to a time immemorial.

"After all, why else are we training? Can't help but feel small compared to all of this kerfuffle, but it's equally important not to lose perspective."

When the conversation turned to Asha'rah, he thought it over before answering.

"I never quite understood it all myself, and really, perhaps it's a deeper mystery than really needs to be uncovered," Zaofan replied. Knife in hand, he'd been peeling a zucchini into a single, lengthily organic ribbon. "Like, sure, there's a way to make something taste good, and generations of cooks, connoisseurs, critical snobs, gastronomes, and of course, mothers, made sure to document the process."

It fell like a pale, green noodle. Without pause he began to julienne a carrot as he spoke.

"But that's the 'how', and not the 'why.' Breaking things down, building them back up, that happens in little ways all the time. Boil a potato, it'll become paste, but freeze, batter, and fry the spud in oil, on the surface it becomes something new."

Carrot cut to shreds, he turned around and pulled out a tray of scalloped potatoes before returning to his prep. Browned chives and bits of broken bacon skipped in a crust of molten cheese as he lay it to rest on the counter.

"Oddly enough, if you analyze it under the finest microscope, most of the stuff is the same. Hydrogen, carbon, oxygen and nitrogen squished and strained into molecule chains, makes sense that we'd want more. If we're think of life itself as simply...elemental, a formula of fixed portions, well, we're nothing more than changing chemicals, aren't we? There's really be no point to all of this, just another state change."

Setting down a tray, he began mixing some sweet, earthy sauce together when his presence of mind caught up with his rambling. He picked up the pepper mill and began twisting.

"...'scuse me. I'd realized my whole life I'd been a Chemist without a...blemish. It's a bit of a frightening prospect that something like Auroc or Sakin would just see everything as nothing more than...this."

She sighed heavily and set the empty dishes aside. "I can't spend as much time with her as I'd like," she admitted. "My days the last few months are spent in countless meetings. By the time I get done for the day, she's already been put to bed." When she got pregnant, she had it in her head that she would be able to lighten her schedule for the first few years so she could spend as much time with her child as possible.

Then Tundra happened.

It wasn't like the battles she fought with the M-Fighters, where they killed the enemy and then dealt with certain aspects of the fallout. That time, she had to deal with all the fallout. And that took time. Something had to give, and sadly, her child got pushed aside.

It wasn't out of the ordinary, but she did resolve to herself to take a more personal role in raising her child.

"I do what I can when I can. I'm... actually shouldn't even be here right now. I'm supposed to be in a meeting, but I saw a chance to do something with her, so I left. They can wait, I guess."

"Yet through all of that, you did take the time to learn what she liked," he smiled. "It's not easy having a few billion bosses to answer to. So many orders pile up and the requests get crazy and specific, and yet...here we are. Who else is going to listen to them and hear them out, am I right?"

Once the sauce was mixed, Zaofan pulled a ball of white dough out of the fridge. Dusting the counter with flour, he laid it down neatly and rubbed his hands together.

"Which is why I think you're exactly where you need to be today. There are a lot of things you can just power through, and that'd just be a matter of force, pressure and time. That's all well and good if you want to get stronger, no doubt. But like cooking, for fighting that's only one part of the process."

He began to knead the dough into the counter.

"Let me pick your brain, Sarada. When you get into your zone, how did you know you needed to adapt?"

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Found him!

The bastard must have thought it was a game. To see him sitting down and relaxing with one of those girly drinks was insulting. Her eyes narrowed. With Caliban in her sights, she prepared to strike.

She told him at the outset that she hypothesized that she may have been able to copy any spell she had ever seen or encountered. She could do it with ki attacks; magic should have been well within her capabilities to mimic. Even if she didn't fully understand the mechanics of the spell or have a grasp over the affinity, simply copying it was more than possible for her. She was, after all, the foremost prodigy in Saiyan history. A rarity amongst her race as one able to even comprehend magic, much less utilize it to the degree she was able. She bent down and scooped up some dirt from the ground.



Perfect Replication - Switch

Using his own spell against him, Parsley attempted to switch the handful of dirt for some of the cards that Caliban had in his deck.

A rather funny thing about magic. Much like Caliban had explained earlier, Magic cheats. Already using pre-prepared spells in the cards, combined with Parsley attempting to copy a spell she has no idea how it was cast or how long it took to prepare, Magic kind of goes....wacky around both her and Caliban.


A startled Yelp and Caliban stands up, looking at his hands. His very Parsley Saiyan looking hands. Parsley meanwhile, looking down, can see she has Caliban’s goblin hands instead of her own.

The dirt and cards in both your hands are gone.


“The hell! Girlie!? What did ya do!?”

[Sub-Zero MKA]

A rather funny thing about magic. Much like Caliban had explained earlier, Magic cheats. Already using pre-prepared spells in the cards, combined with Parsley attempting to copy a spell she has no idea how it was cast or how long it took to prepare, Magic kind of goes....wacky around both her and Caliban.


A startled Yelp and Caliban stands up, looking at his hands. His very Parsley Saiyan looking hands. Parsley meanwhile, looking down, can see she has Caliban’s goblin hands instead of her own.

The dirt and cards in both your hands are gone.


“The hell! Girlie!? What did ya do!?”

Parsley's eyes bulged as she beheld the hands that were suddenly attached to her wrists. They weren't her own; they were Caliban's. How? How did this happen? she wondered. Her brows creased into a perplexed frown.

The only thing she could think of was that something went wrong from the very beginning. True, she could mimic spells, but without the proper knowledge of preparation or the inner mechanics of the spell, the results were a complete unknown. She, perhaps arrogantly, assumed that the result would be the same. Clearly, that wasn't the case.

"I tried to copy your switch spell," she explained. The cards weren't in her hands, to add insult to injury. On the other hand, the dirt that had been in her hands was also missing. Meaning the cards were still up for grabs.

"I can try to switch our hands back after I get those cards!"

Observational Focus + Muda!

Through the scope of her observational powers, she narrowed the focus of her magic sense to search for the deck of cards.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Parsley's eyes bulged as she beheld the hands that were suddenly attached to her wrists. They weren't her own; they were Caliban's. How? How did this happen? she wondered. Her brows creased into a perplexed frown.

The only thing she could think of was that something went wrong from the very beginning. True, she could mimic spells, but without the proper knowledge of preparation or the inner mechanics of the spell, the results were a complete unknown. She, perhaps arrogantly, assumed that the result would be the same. Clearly, that wasn't the case.

"I tried to copy your switch spell," she explained. The cards weren't in her hands, to add insult to injury. On the other hand, the dirt that had been in her hands was also missing. Meaning the cards were still up for grabs.

"I can try to switch our hands back after I get those cards!"

Observational Focus + Muda!

Through the scope of her observational powers, she narrowed the focus of her magic sense to search for the deck of cards.

Caliban grunts and seems to be doing the same. The two of you both notice that, floating in the air about 100 yards in the air is the deck of cards and the pile of dirt.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Caliban grunts and seems to be doing the same. The two of you both notice that, floating in the air about 100 yards in the air is the deck of cards and the pile of dirt.

Found it!

Her aura sparked to life and she rocketed toward the floating deck of cards. It was simple, but not her true intention. She had little doubt that Caliban had some kind of trick up his sleeve that would let him recover the cards with ease. That was why she intended on cheating to beat him to the punch.

Perfect Intuition: Void Tunnel

Using Totoma's ability to open rifts in space, she opened a tunnel between herself and the cards and stuck her tail through to pluck them out of the air.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Month 3

The third month was when Totoma really began training in earnest. The first month, of course, had been spent mostly getting Rutaba up to speed, then capping it off with transforming, and the second had been getting her used to the form using his mother's... personal training methods. Mentally, she was pretty much acclimated, and physically she'd be caught up by the end of the month. Of course, he'd done some self-training during that time--mostly getting used to Super Saiyan 2--and he'd learned a few things from teaching Rutaba, but there was only so much he could do while juggling her training, his own training, and... uh, well, occasional trips to explore the afterlife.

He'd run into a few pretty strong fighters during those mini-adventures, but those were stories for another time.

At the end of the third month, he decided to go for it. Super Saiyan 3, that is.

He'd been doing one-finger standing pushups in an area with heightened gravity when the thought struck him to just... go for it. He'd watched Vocado transform into the form pretty much daily by this point (at his request) and asked him to describe the process--the energy comes from deep inside, and one had to push hard to find it--so he knew how to do it... and he was a prodigy when he put his mind to it, so he should be able to pull this off, yeah?

Pushing himself off the ground into a flip, he landed a fair distance away, walking out of the area with the heightened gravity--the afterlife was a weird place, by the way... though he could see why Vocado spent his time here--and rested. This was definitely something he needed to be rested for, so... yeah. After a few minutes, he was ready.

Firmly planting his feet on the ground, Totoma burst into Super Saiyan, and then quickly into Super Saiyan 2--he could transform directly to Ascended now, if need be, but he sort of felt that doing this in sequence would help?--and then... began digging. His lightning-tinged golden aura flared into existence the moment he did.

The build-up was slow, but gradually, his aura compressed, becoming almost like a miniature sun surrounding him. As he 'dug' and his power rose, a great wind accompanied it, the air (...wait, was there air in the afterlife? well, whatever... air, airlike stuff, didn't really matter. Point is, it was windy) rushing away from him.

Sweated formed on his brow as he continued to grasp and, painstakingly, drag out that power within him. The feeling was... exhilarating, and, out of some deep, primal instinct, he let out a scream. As he did so, the 'world' around him trembled, as if afraid of the power he was drawing out of himself. It wasn't, because it wasn't alive, but it was a cool thought!

His aura bright and raging, and blinding to look out, Totoma's hair began to grow... save for the eyebrows, which began to recede. He wasn't really cognizant of this, but he could feel it! He was close, very close! Just a bit more digging and screaming and he'd be able to transform.

For a few moments after that, it seemed like he'd reached a plateau, the power he had been dragging out of himself topping out higher than his super saiyan 2 form, but lower, much lower, than what he was aiming for. The Just Saiyan was not deterred, and he redoubled his efforts.

...and then the dam broke.

The power he had grasped rushed out all at once, and his aura exploded outward, more or less disintegrating the ground into dust, which, naturally, created a dust cloud. Slowly, it began to clear and there, in the epicenter of the explosion was Totoma...



Cloaked in the flame and lightning of his aura, hair wild, long and savage, and power overflowing and greater than most anything in either the world of the living or world of the dead, Totoma had done it! Even though he knew the form was "useless" in the long run, he had managed to transform into Super Saiyan 3 after just a few months of training and on the first try!

Heh, not bad... not bad at all.

Elated as he was, the power was... both hard to control and draining. Incredibly draining. He could literally remain a Super Saiyan in his sleep, and, at this point, remain a Super Saiyan 2 for, like... a day or two, assuming he wasn't fighting, but this? He focused purely on maintaining the form as long as he could, expression focused, fists clenched, and feet firmly planted where he'd been standing... and yet...

One minute, Totoma dropped out of the form and to his knees, panting heavily, after one minute. The energy drain was absurd! He felt like he'd just run a thousand marathons while also fighting every villain he'd encountered up until now! What the heck!? Even with his mom's training methods, this was gonna be time and energy-consuming to get to the point of being sort of usable.

Pushing himself to his feet, Totoma... immediately fell onto his back. Yeah, he was just... gonna lay here and rest a bit.

"Hoo boy... I've really got my work cut out for me... but it's for the good of the Earth and my friends & family, so a little exhaustion's nothing." Okay, calling this 'a little exhaustion' was understating it a bit (a lot) but the days of him just... throwing himself into insane situations and hoping for the best were over. He had to be prepared for whatever the future brought.

Yeah... prepared... gotta be... ZZZZZZZZZZZ

Exhaustion overcame the Just Saiyan and soon enough, he fell into a (well-deserved?) deep sleep, splayed out in the barren ground zero of his transformation site.

[End of Month 3]

Vocado and Rutaba bore witness to the unbridled power that SSJ3 brought to bear as Totoma pushed himself beyond his limits for the first time. It seemed to be a completely spontaneous decision on his part, as there wasn't really any indication that he intended on trying it out right then. Regardless, he had done so; and in doing so, experienced exactly what Vocado spoke about when he mentioned the immense energy drain. The boy could barely maintain the form for a minute before running out of energy and falling asleep right there.

He decided to leave him there and let him rest. It wasn't like there were beds anywhere nearby. "Well done," he muttered.

---

During Month 4, he changed pace. While he continued to help Rutaba master her SSJ form, he also took time to help her and Totoma master their base forms. By that, he meant strengthen it even more. By doing so, they would find that their SSJ form would be much more powerful. He was fortunate that they knew one of the best ways to siphon as much power growth, that being to train hard for two or three days straight, then rest and recuperate for two more days before continuing training.

During their off days, he decided to show them the origins of Saiyan Do.

"No one actually knows who it was created by," he began. As he spoke, he performed the kata that was developed by a man in his grandfather's generation. "At its core, Saiyan Do takes advantage of a Saiyan's natural disposition. When used by a master, it's aggressive and relentless, undaunting and indomitable. Strike first, strike hard, never allow your opponent a chance to breathe, much less mount a counterattack.

When he was finished, he invited Rutaba and Totoma to show him their hand-to-hand skills. For Rutaba, the style she and Pinach developed together was... well, it wasn't anything like what he was saying. They found to disarm and takedown quickly. There were a lot of grapples, throws, and strikes that were meant to stun and incapacitate. It wasn't a lethal fighting style by any stretch.

For some reason, Vocado found that odd. That was until he remembered that she was a hero.

After Totoma gave a demonstration of his own unorthodox style, Vocado stroked his beard. "So, it seems that every person has their own style?"

"Yes," she answered. "We learn the basics of Saiyan Do, but eventually most of us come up with our own techniques for what fits us personally."

"I see. Variety is the spice of life, I think is the saying."

After that, they continued training their base forms. As the days and weeks progressed, Rutaba started to notice that her SSJ form was much stronger as her base form improved. She also noticed that her stamina had improved. She could remain a Super Saiyan for nearly the entire day, which was way more than she could manage when she started. A part of her wanted to try the next level, but after what Vocado told them, she didn't know if she should have bothered. It would have been a nice notch on her belt to at least know the next two forms, as useless as they would have been.

I wonder if the others have already ascended, she pondered during one their rest days. Probably so. Sarada and Parsley were relentless with their training; and with all the high level enemies they faced, they probably ascended because they needed the power.

She smiled and clenched her fist. She couldn't wait until she was resurrected so she could show everyone how strong she had gotten! I'm not sure how long I've been here or how much longer I'll be dead, but I need to make every second I've got left count!

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Found it!

Her aura sparked to life and she rocketed toward the floating deck of cards. It was simple, but not her true intention. She had little doubt that Caliban had some kind of trick up his sleeve that would let him recover the cards with ease. That was why she intended on cheating to beat him to the punch.

Perfect Intuition: Void Tunnel

Using Totoma's ability to open rifts in space, she opened a tunnel between herself and the cards and stuck her tail through to pluck them out of the air.

As she does this, clasping the card deck in her tail, she watches as Caliban mumbles a spell and shakes his (which are hers) hands like they were covered in water.

Which causes them to fall off. Startlingly, new goblin hands grow back and Caliban moves them around, testing them.

“Better.”