FanFic idea inspired in part by Kal-Karrot's Path to Power.
The first few chapters will be quasi introspective. Part of the goal of this fic is to come up with in universe reasons for why the human characters fall so far behind. Besides the fact Saiyans need all the nerfs.
DISCLAIMER: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, and about 1/4 of my childhood belong to Akira Toriyama
The four men met in a clearing miles from any man made structure. The tallest of them, a three eyed man with no hair and a hard stare, laid the last dragon ball on the ground between them. For a moment, the sacred jewels vibrated, ancient power looking for a release. Then they rocketed into the skies and a massive dragon exploding from within them.
"SPEAK, MORTALS!" it bellowed. "FOR I AM THE DRAGON GOD, SHENLONG, AND I WILL GRANT YOU ONE WISH, WHATEVER IT MAY BE BUT ONLY ONE!"
Krillin stepped forward. This had been his idea after all, so it was only right he be the one to do the talking. "H-hey there, Shenlong. Long time no see!" The dragon growled. "Sorry. Um. So we all- well I had an idea and everyone else sorta liked it." Another of the dragon's impatient growls. "A-Anyway, we've got these killer cyborgs…androids… something mechanical and quasi human coming in a bit over two years' time and we wanted some specialized training. Could you send us each to a master than can bring the most out of us?"
Yamcha grit his teeth. Puar had only been gone a few minutes and already he was missing the small shapeshifter. How was he supposed to make it through two years with no one but these assholes to talk to? Worse still, hearing Krillin mention the androids made him think back to when Trunks had taken a wrecking ball to his life.
Age 764
No one said anything. Gohan looked around nervously, embarrassed at his outburst. Why had he kept talking? Once he'd figured out the teen was from the future, why hadn't he clocked that there was likely a very good reason for the teen's secrecy? But it was all too late now. With his cover blown, the time traveler Trunks told them everything. Killer cyborgs, their agonizing deaths, Gohan as the sole survivor, and, of course his parentage. Bulma and Yamcha had gotten quiet, Gohan noticed. The two were less than a foot apart but it might as well have been miles from the way they stood.
When Bulma did speak, it was in a voice barely above a whisper. "What will they look like?" she asked. "These cyborgs, I mean."
"Number 17 looks like a teenage boy maybe a few years older than me. He has black hair, a cold smirk, and- and the most hateful eyes. He-" Trunks seemed to choke on something. Maybe a memory too sensitive to share.
"It's ok," said Bulma, her voice calmer now if only because there was so much sympathy in it. "Take your time."
"Thanks…mom. Number 18 looks just like her brother except she's blonde. They're both about my height. Same skin tone as me too."
"What makes them so dangerous that two Super Saiyans weren't enough?" Vegeta didn't so much ask as he demanded to be told. There was no hint of warmth in his voice either. It was matter of fact and gruff. Out of all of them he seemed the least bothered by these revelations. In fact, the only thing that really got a rise out of him was discovering Kakarot died of a heart condition. The Saiyan Prince had almost spat. "What are their strengths? Their abilities?"
"Um."
"Out with it, boy!"
Trunks winced under his father's gaze. "Sorry. Both Numbers 17 and 18 have a limitless energy supply," he said. "And you won't be able to sense them. Gohan and I, we could always fight them for a while. But if we ever got the upper hand they'd go on the defensive until Gohan and I were too worn out to fight effectively. They don't eat, sleep, breath… You never know they're there until it's too late."
"Sounds like a nightmare," said Krillin. The former monk scratched his freshly shaven head and looked at the people around him. A scientist, a prideful moron, a guy who was already questioning whether he wanted to keep fighting, a six-year-old, the devil, a psychic, and a three eyed former assassin. "I'm gonna level with ya, Trunks. Even with your warning I'm not liking our odds here. Three years is what I figure it'd take us to get ready for Frieza but he wasn't anything to you. Him or his dad. We'll give it our all but it'll probably come down to Goku."
"Typical!" Vegeta's voice hit them all like a slap. "Cowering and waiting for Kakarot to solve all your problems. No wonder you humans are so weak." And then the Saiyan Prince flew off towards West City where he'd order Dr Briefs to build him a training room capable of reaching 300 times Earth's gravity. He didn't see Yamcha quietly move away from the rest of the group or Krillin completely lose himself in thought or even Bulma walk up to her son and hug him. Vegeta had seen an obstacle to overcome and that was all that mattered to him in this universe.
Shenlong's eyes flashed and suddenly all four fighters felt as if they'd been hurled into artic waters. "THIS CAN BE DONE!"
"Awes-s-s-some," said Krillin through chattering teeth. "And as an addendum, we'd like to be back here on Earth April 7th of year 767 so that you know, we can actually use these skills when we're supposed to." Once again, the dragon's eyes flashed. A black pendant appeared around the neck of each Earthling.
"THESE WILL TRANSPORT YOU BACK TO THIS SPOT. DO NOT LOSE THEM. FARE THEE WELL."
And then a blinding light enveloped all four men.
When Krillin's senses returned to him he found himself standing just beyond the palace of Enma Daio and in front of a long serpentine path. Snake Way, he realized. He was, to his surprise, completely alone. Not one of his companions was there with him. They weren't even within range of his ki senses. "I… probably should have specified we wanted to train as a group." Krillin rubbed the bridge of his very real and totally not nonexistent nose. It was not hard for him to work out what had happened. Krillin had asked for each of them to be sent to the master who could bring the most out of them. A strict reading (and let's not kid ourselves. That's the only reading Shenlong would be interested in. Krillin should thank his luck stars he wasn't hovering over a giant juicer.) meant someone different for each fighter. "Oh this is not what I had in mind. Wait shouldn't I at least be within ear shot of my new master."
"Shenlong isn't about to impose on the Lord of Worlds like that," said a haughty voice. Krillin looked up to see a cricket-like creature almost half his size flying towards him. "I am Gregory, one of The Kaio's attendants. He has accepted your request but will require you to walk Snake's Way before taking you on as a student."
The small human blinked. "Why?" This was, evidently, the wrong thing to ask the bug-man as he began to buzz in place furiously.
"Why? WHY? You dare ask why!" The cricket gave Krillin a glare so nasty the small man actually recoiled. Then without so much as another word Gregory turned and sped down Snake Way leaving Krillin far behind.
"Hey! Wait up!" Krillin called out as he too began to make his way through the twisting path. "I'm sorry! Come on don't be like that!"
It was late afternoon on Yardrat, about the time everyone began their day. Yaki rose from his meditations and made his way out into the fields just outside the village. He liked to watch the sunset from there. The rest of the village knew it as his place and so Saki could always count on being alone when he wanted to watch the sky.
Red was such a beautiful color and to watch it streak across the sky one last time before giving way to the innumerable stars in the heavens was the purest joy the old man could imagine. Even his worn-out joints weren't enough to stop Saki from making the trip. But just as he reached his favorite spot something odd happened. A small floating creature with pale skin and dressed in odd clothing appeared in front of him. When it saw him, the creature began emitting loud babbling noises from its mouth.
Yaki was in no mood for this. The sunset was half over. Unbeknownst to the creature, he reached into it and took its voice. The creature continued to move its lips for a little while longer before realizing no sound was coming out. It raised a hand to its throat, then it looked at Yaki who stared past him towards the setting sun. Slowly, the pale thing floated over to Yaki and watched the clouds gorge themselves on the sun's last lights.
Beautiful.
Ah, said Yaki his voice rumbling around the inside of Chaiotzu's mind. So you can speak.
Yes, answered the human. To Yaki he sounded hoarse, almost as if it had been years since he'd spoken. Forgive me. I am unaccustomed to this.
And yet you've taken to it so well! Yaki waved towards the horizon. Now that's enough talking. Let's enjoy the birth of a new day.
Yes…master.
"So you're here for specialized training?" repeated the Namekian elder. Tenshinhan nodded, no less resolute than when he'd appeared in front of the old man. "Far be it for me to question the wisdom of Shenlong but, you're already vastly more powerful than any Namekian here. I just don't understand what he expects us- me especially- to teach you. If anything, you should be giving our warriors instruction."
"I realize it's a lot to ask, Elder Maki," Tenshinhan bowed his head. "But the fate of my world is at stake and I- It shames me to admit this but every day I grow more jealous of Goku. Every threat we have faced has come down to him and him alone. Piccolo Daimao, the Saiyans, Frieza, and now these androids. I hate this feeling of weakness. My closest friend sacrificed himself for me and I wasn't able to even scratch his murderer. To this day it turns my stomach to think about that battle! Call it selfish but- I need the power to make sure that never happens again."
"You should not feel shame," advised Elder Maki. "These are feelings I myself felt when Frieza massacred my village. Feelings any would feel in your place. It is what we do with these feelings that matter. But as is they seem more a hindrance to you than anything else."
"How so?" asked Tenshinhan the reverence in his voice giving way to confusion. "I've pushed myself harder than I ever have these last few months."
"Oh, certainly you may become stronger," admitted Maki. "But strength is cold comfort. Especially when what you're dealing with are beings that eclipse even that monster Frieza." The Namekian seemed to be considering something. He raised a four fingered hand to his chin and looked over to where construction on the new village gardens had begun. "Very well. I shall take you on as a pupil. Perhaps in time I'll learn what it is Shenlong expects me to do for you. Come! Introduce yourself to the rest of the village. You'll be spending a great deal of time here. It'll do to make friends." Tenshinhan frowned but then he reminded himself that the Namekians were a social people and that he should not be rude.
"Of course, master."
Yamcha came to in a dimly lit and elegant room. Bookshelves lined the walls and overhead a beautiful chandelier gave the room its eerie light. All manner of arcane baubles were littered around the room too. But what Yamcha's eyes were drawn to was an ornate table with every delicacy you could imagine laid out. Deliciously plump turkeys, roasted pork, sweetened grapes, and so much more. It was enough to make anyone's mouth water. The fighter, because he still was one whatever else was true at the moment, swallowed hard.
"Hello!" he called out. "Anyone here." There was no response. Yamcha walked over the table and casually picked up a handful of grapes. "Might as well help myself," he said before popping one into his mouth. It was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. Too sweet in fact. It almost made him gag. "Oh man. Guess whoever owns this place has a hell of a sweet tooth." Yamcha placed the rest back down and sighed. Grapes were about the only part of the spread he could safely eat without the owner noticing at a glance. "Oh well," he said.
Then he froze in place. Literally. His lips became purple and his skin took on a blue tint. Yamcha, tried to raise his ki to stave off whatever was happening but all of it was locked away somehow. All he could do was stand there completely paralyzed, his skin feeling as if it were going to break apart and peel off.
"Did you like the grapes?" a deep voice said. A red skinned man with two small horns and long pointed appears walked past Yamcha and took a seat at the table. "I am Dabura, Lord of Devils, and I believe you are to be my pupil?" As he spoke, Dabura filled his plate, never once looking at Yamcha. "You should have tried the treacle tart. Must easier on the human constitution from what I understand. Ah but that's not why you picked the grapes was it? Never wanting to draw attention, always wanting to minimize your impact on those around you, all to make leaving that much easier, hm?" Yamcha could not answer but that was fine as far as Dabura was concerned. Hearing someone suffering was never as important as knowing they were suffering. "Well, Yamcha, this is something you won't be able to walk away from." Shenlong's pendant disappeared from around Yamcha's neck. "You won't be needing that," said the Lord of Devils his cold yellow eyes glimmering with a malice even Piccolo Daimao had never managed.
Most chapters will be about this long (2000-3000 words) so that this fic doesn't interfere with my other one.
Thank you for reading!
