Very much like Cooler's return, one other major enemy has been brought back to life after years of being dead. This is primarily due to an evolutionary trait modified by the scientific workings that were brought about by Dr. Gero. Because the creature that is Cell has existed for so long with multiple DNA strands, the constant regeneration of the cells morphed the DNA into an entirely new strand and only holds the genetic traits of his half-siblings. It is as if he became something else on a molecular level, and he no longer gives off individual energy auras, but a completely new one that is his own.
Of course, he isn't perfect. Not anymore.
Once Gohan had successfully turned Cell into a pile of cinders, it still left traces of his DNA within those cinders. Like a fire that took down a forest, it created a fertile breeding ground for those cells, as they combined and mutated over the years. It took until around Beerus' visit to Earth that he emerged from an egg as an amphibious, insectoid larva.
His energy level was very small, very much like any other ordinary animal, but he was at least able to retain memory of not just his fight with Gohan, but memories of the afterlife as well. After all, souls tend to hold onto memories, and with Cell having a fresh start in life with the same soul, he was able to retain all of it, especially since his mind didn't limit his subconscious enough to where he'd have vague feelings of déjà vu that only hinted at a past life or afterlife.
Like any other small animals, he had to eat something. He looked about his surroundings after pushing off the last bit of the eggshell. Huh, he thought, I don't recall my egg being so leather-like. I distinctly remember it being pink and shell-like. This evolutionary trait must have felt I was better off in the soft shell. I was in the ground after all.
His stomach growled as he tried to figure out what he should eat. His tongue moved about in his mouth, trying to get an idea of what kind of life form he is right now in order to figure out what he's capable of eating. Dirt came to mind, with all of its minerals, but his pride wouldn't allow it. No teeth but a tongue meant he was more of an amphibian, so he had to eat bugs. And he knew right away that this way of living was going to become a pain in the ass real quick.
Of course, he knew this wouldn't last long. He needed energy in order to grow. Metamorphosis, he thought as he munched on a beetle, That's the answer. I just wish it would hurry up. I guess I'll have to grin and bear it. You can't rush perfection.
Again: he's deluded himself into believing that he truly is a perfect being. He's alive again, creeping back into the existence of the living world where his enemies lie. That's perfection, right?
He nearly choked on that beetle while harshly swallowing it out of anger for allowing himself to doubt the possibility of perfection. That just simply would not do. He's perfect. He's perfect in absolutely every way possible. There's no way he's not perfect because he's been told since he was a fetus in a vat that he was perfect!
Despite the dying part hindering his consciousness, he did have a really neat new feature that his new life gave him: organic virtual reality. Sort of. He was able to read the temperature and vitals of animals around him with his eyes, able to see the heart rate and the hormone levels of the fauna around him. It still gave him the feeling of "I know I'm an android" while being a member of the fauna among the flora himself.
After eating for days what bugs he could catch and eat, he managed to grow no bigger than the size of a rat, which angered him because insects are so damned hard to catch. Why don't the little bastards hold still! If only they could communicate, I would tell them that their sacrifice would be going towards a greater good of perfection!
He crawled through the grass with his thoughts occupying his mind. Those words sounded so simplified. Perhaps it's because I'm in the infant stage of my metamorphosis. What I wouldn't give for some sufficient energy in the form of food. Why I would-Oof!
He walked right into a stack of books in the grass. That's what he gets for not paying attention to where he's going. There was a moment of deep and frightening regret because if he's that easily distracted by his thoughts, he'll never pass the larval stage alive. Good thing all it was were just-textbooks? Hmm... Entomology 101, Botany, Ornithology... These look like college-level textbooks. Is there a student beyond this stack?
Lo and behold, there was. A young woman sat beyond the stack of textbooks on a laptop eating a rather hearty-looking sandwich. A peculiar woman at that. What's with that hair? A mohawk? Grown out and pulled back? Well, it's original, and very red. And the tattoos.. Perhaps she's either a very tasteful person in admiration of the arts, a masochist for how much ink that's been scratched onto her epidermis, or both... That food she has looks really tasty. His mind went from careful analysis to the biology student to wanting the food she has. And he hated it. He felt like an animal. He can't be an animal! He's perfect! But so is that sandwich...
I'm getting that sandwich whether she likes it or not! He marches his four little legs up to her, but the moment she looks at him, he freezes. Suddenly he realizes how huge she was compared to him, and began to assess that simply walking right up to her was a very bad idea.
The woman's eyebrows raised as she pushed her glasses up her nose a bit, "Well, what are you, little guy?"
I can't move! I can't move! I CAN'T MOVE!
Despite his legs not allowing him to scurry away, he did jump when she held a piece of her sandwich out to him, "I have no idea what you are, but I'd bet you're more interested in my food than my books."
Two little hands snatch the piece away and he started to scarf it down. Oh my, this is WONDERFUL! Why didn't I bother trying food in my past life? No. NO! I mustn't give into such carnal desires to keep eating unless it's to evolve more! I'm supposed to be PERFECT!
The little larva jumped when she bent down to get a closer look at him, "I cannot tell if you're an amphibian or an insect." She reaches out to touch him for observation, but he bit her. He has no beak or teeth, so it did nothing but amuse her, and she lifted him off the ground with a little laugh, "That's not food, cutie-pie. That's my finger. Here, have some more of the sandwich."
He took it, puzzled, but ate it nonetheless. Thank whatever lucky stars that I may or may not have that this woman cares about any specimen she comes across. It beats hunting for impossible-to-catch insects all day. And this food gives me lots of energy.
After finishing a thesis she seemed to have been editing on her laptop, she clicks the "send" button to submit it to her school's website, then shuts it off and puts it in her bag. She wanted to turn her full attention to this miscellaneous critter and continued to examine him, "I have never seen anything like you before. You seem pretty healthy and harmless."
Pfft, ha! Harmless. If she only knew...
"I think I'll take you home. I've got more books in my apartment. I might be able to find some answers there just as to what you are."
Now there's an idea. If I play pet for this woman, I'll be able to gain the energy I need, evolve to my perfect form, and then blow everyone away! All I have to do is be her pet for a little while longer-
Not like he had a choice, since his thoughts were interrupted by her standing with him in her hands. And as if being handled by a pair of hands wasn't awkward enough, he now realized he had to deal with being in a container on the back of her bike. Luckily it was secure and have slits in the lid for air, but he knew he might experience a bit of psychological trauma in this predicament, and he hoped it was worth it.
But surprisingly enough, this Biology student took it easy with the bike. It was foot-powered, and judging by her accent, the logo on the bike, and her attire, she looked like she was from America.
Ah yes. America. Land of the delusional. Chances are nobody from America except their power-hungry government has heard of me. That country is close to being the next North Korea. At least America has advanced beyond the era of floppy disks. He paid close attention to the surroundings that she was biking through. Looks like I'm still in Japan, which is good since I'm rather familiar with this country. I feel like I've travelled to Europe from how much walking and hunting I've done.
The changes of style and common use of technology perplexed him when he had a chance to observe at red lights. He suddenly became very self-conscious of the motor vehicles, fearing that there might be a fight for road dominance between vehicles. This would put the Biology student in danger, and thus promptly crushing any hopes and dreams of him becoming perfect once again. All is lost, and he awaited his inevitable doom of someone crashing into her, shattering the container he's in, and getting stepped on by a common human.
Am I having a panic-attack?
Not a limb would move on him. All he could do was sway his body for balance with the turns and momentum of the bike. His thorax throbbed with his pounding heart as he either couldn't breathe or was breathing too much, he couldn't tell.
Oh thank goodness she turned off the main road.
He calmed down some as he watched her take some suburban roads. The ride was a bit bumpier, but it's obvious she's taken this road before. He'd rather rely on her routine than someone else deciding to be a jack-ass with their environmentally unsafe machines. Now that he brought that thought up, he realized how it was easier for him to breath not being around car exhaust fumes.
The student rolled up to an apartment complex. It was two-story, and she lived on the second floor. With one hand, she carried the container her new little critter-friend was in, and carried the bike up the steps with the other as best as she could.
Once inside, his eyes immediately adjusted to the dim lighting. The blinds were down, and the student flipped a light switch, which illuminated a studio apartment.
She lives in a closet? What kind of low-wage job is she working at? Then again, she is from America. Maybe she transferred here not long ago? At least she's not too terrible being a minimalist for an American.
Then again, she could be paying for over-priced market-rates for bedbug-infested living spaces with poor-to-no maintenance or upkeep. This will have to do. And if he must be left in the apartment while she goes to class or work, then so be it. He could explore and find out more about this student while raiding the kitchenette. It would be a pain in the ass, but he must have that energy, and food is the only way he can have it.
Much to his surprise, he didn't need to brace himself when she set the container down. She takes more care of discovered and collected specimens than he gave her credit for. He watched her walk away from the desk she'd set him on and walk over to the bathroom. This gave him a chance to look about the little apartment to get an idea as to what this woman is like.
Well, for one thing, she certainly had an interesting book collection. A couple spoke of Nikola Tesla's work, some were books on anarchism and feminism, and a nice selection of human sexuality. Then moving from the informative shelves to the ones containing fiction, he saw some that rung some bells and others he did not hear of before. Which he couldn't blame anyone since he'd been dead for nearly a decade. Interesting that she holds some of Tolkein's work while having other translations of Beowulf as well. An aspiring scientific student with a love for fantasy is an interesting mix of interests. He imagined impressing her in his perfect form; her witnessing the brilliant evolution that he takes part in as well as flying and lighting things up like a wizard. And then killing her.
No time to plot killing her, though. Have to be familiar with surroundings. Have to understand how one can get from point A to point B and when. Have to make sure one is able to have readily access to food.
He then looks around her desk, seeing nothing much except a cup to hold pencils and pens, a printer, and some drawer handles he can barely see over the edge of the desk. The laptop must be for the large space his container currently occupies. That would be in her backpack, which is on her bed, covered with stickers of miscellaneous superheroes and monsters.
There was a small, flatscreen television on a table directly across from the bed, and a gaming console with an "x" encircled on it. The cases to the right of it must be the games, and on top of it laid its controller. Not many games, though. This could be for when she's too sick to fiddle on the computer or for whatever downtime she may get between semesters when she's not working wherever she's working.
A thought occurred: I need to find out her name in case I get separated for some horrifying reason. What's this woman's name? Where can I find her name?
He saw her come out of the bathroom carrying an aquarium, and felt a bit of respect when he noticed she talks to him and treats him somewhat of a person instead of a specimen to be studied and tested upon.
"Sorry, had to clean this out. I was going to keep some frogs in here, but this weird spotted turquoise one with the red eyes I found isn't at the park anymore. Lucky you, huh?"
Yes... Lucky me.
"Now don't think I'm gonna keep you cooped up in here. You'll only go in here when I'm not home or when it's time for bed. And don't think I'll leave you alone while you sleep. I'll be in my bed next to you!"
Oh goodie...
She moves him in the container onto her bed for a moment while she sets up her aquarium on the desk and starts to prepare the terrain for it. But he happened to glance over at her bag and noticed her student ID was poking out.
Oh come on! The stupid magazine is in the way! I have to see her name! What's her name?!
And he's equally mad at himself for letting such a thing bother him so much. But her elbow bumped the bag which pushed the magazine toward the bottom, and the ID was left exposed.
Finally! Goula Brew. Well then, Miss Brew, you are about to care for and raise a perfect being!
He watched her complete in preparing the terrain, even giving him a heating rock and a place to take a bath, considering his water and food dish are completely separate from the little tiny pond she made for him. Not bad for something she originally reserved for an oddly-described frog.
He still wasn't used to the idea of giant hands picking him up, although he did appreciate the fact that Goula was very careful with him. But he didn't go immediately in the terrain. He was put on the desk, and the food and water dishes came out. She was going to feed him outside of his comfortable prison.
He was amazed at how thorough she was in making sure she was taking good care of him from the start, because she provided him with different foods in his dish. A small tomato, a couple of blueberries, a tiny piece of fish, and a tiny piece of chicken. Just about all of the essential food groups are displayed. But she also brought out a cricket with tweezers. It was alive, as well. But he didn't want to resort to insects again. This people-food she was sharing would provide him with far more nutrition and energy than a bug about a quarter of his size. He then decided to make his point by eating everything but the cricket. In fact, he pushed the cricket out of the dish and out of the tweezers with his hand.
"Guess you don't like crickets, then."
No shit.
"Well then, fruits, veggies, and meats it is."
Cell grew to the size of a cat within a week. He was able to get around the dinky apartment and Goula couldn't keep him in his terrain anymore. He ended up free-ranging throughout the entire apartment, and made no attempt to escape.
He had deduced that if he left, he would have no guaranteed food supply. Staying with this Biology student would ensure him a constant, steady food supply, and because she's from America, even if he were to reach his final, perfect form, she would not know who he is, which would mean this is the easiest way for him to complete his metamorphosis in hiding.
But being a little pet, despite his pride, had its perks-because of his pride. Being a pet meant that he would be pampered on occasion. And because he couldn't be kept in his terrain, he wouldn't really be able to bathe himself with her tub, which meant she would bathe him. She did so every couple of days but without soap, and used an old, soft-bristled toothbrush. It felt good on his exoskeleton, and he felt more refreshed afterwards than when he bathed himself in the aquarium. He also got larger portions of food.
Oh, that's another problem. The food. Despite having a guaranteed supply, it couldn't be much like it used to when comparing the size and portion ratio. She is a struggling college student, and could only afford so much. Goula had to compromise what she would usually get for herself like the occasional candy bar in order to make sure he was well-fed. She was grateful he didn't chew or tried to eat anything else but the food she gave him, and was thankful that his body absorbed everything he ate so there was no worries in house-training him.
He stayed out of trouble while she was out at work or in class, and by "staying out of trouble", this meant nothing was messed up or broken. Cell had to avoid the urge of sneaking food, because his caretaker needed sustenance in order to keep him fed and pampered.
Really, though. I probably should spare her. Having a little slave doesn't sound like such a bad idea.
One day while she was out working, he roamed around the apartment and came across some sort of contraption. He couldn't make out what it was. It doesn't seem to be electric or an appliance. It was large, wooden with some stickers on it depicting activism, and it had strings. It was hollow. He carefully touched a string, poking at it, not sure what this thing was. Then his fingertip slipped and the string made a sound, which startled him and caused him to jump back.
What on Earth is this thing?
He scuttled over to the bed, climbed up the blanket onto it, hopped from the end of the bed onto the desk and got a better look at it.
Oh, I see what that is. It's what humans call a "guitar." This one would be considered an acoustic guitar. That's strange. I haven't seen her mess with it. I'd explore the internet to find out what's with all of this obsession with "music", but she took her laptop with her.
He waddled over to the stack of papers on the side of her desk and decided to go through them as a way of occupying his time. He saw a thesis paper and examined it. In the top right corner, he saw the name of the teacher.
Bulma Briefs? She's a college professor? If my memory stands correct, she's Vegeta's wife and Trunks' mother. I hope she isn't the type of student who becomes best friends with teachers. I don't need anyone discovering I'm alive just yet.
Only half an hour before Goula is usually home from class. This would be an eternity to a little critter like him.
Time to explore again!
He hops down onto the chair and then onto the floor. He's large enough now that jumping down like that isn't quite so scary. But he'd explored all week, so it's difficult to find uncharted territory in this apartment. Except, of course, under the bed.
What's under here? Shoes, a couple of long-forgotten magazines... What's this box? It looks like it's wrapped with lingerie.
Cell's little hands grabs it and he tries to pull it out, which failed, so he ended up pushing it out. Once it was out from beneath the bed, he opened it up. It opened up almost like a tackle box, and had very questionable things inside. A chain with what looked like adjustable tweezers on each end, and various phallic objects inside. All of which were rather colorful.
What in the world does she keep in here? What's this bottle over here? Water-based vegan lubricant? Well that makes sense because the vagi-OH MY GOODNESS, MY CARETAKER IS A NYMPHOMANIAC AND THESE ARE...
He quickly shuts the case and shoves it back under the bed as if something was about to reach out and snag him. His little heart beating at a million miles an hour, he felt his face flush.
Wait a minute, why am I flustered over discovering my caretaker's sex toys? It's perfectly reasonable seeing as how she has absolutely no time for a mate and needs to satisfy her urges with objects made of safe materials. I'm a biological android that can kill people, for crying out loud! Why would I ever be embarrassed to find such things under this woman's bed?! Could Dr. Gero have programmed the illogical and puritanical shame and social stigma of female sexuality into my system? All that is is just distracting! That's not perfect at all! That old goat probably couldn't attract a woman even with enhanced phermones. It was a disappointment meeting him in Hell. I'll show him! I am going to pull that box out, open it up, and stare at the erotic contents within it just to spite the old bastard!
So he dove back under the bed and shoved the box out and opened it. Nearly burying his face into it he stares at it. He felt that feeling again of embarrassment and guilt, but he painfully kept his eyes on the brightly-colored vibrators.
Nope. I will not avert my eyes because of these illogical feelings! I should not care whether or not these have stimulated her erogenous zones and bring her to climax! Her masturbation-filled sex-life is her business and-Okay maybe this is a bit rude. Perfect people are most certainly not rude on any social level. Killing people is one thing, but privacy is another. She probably found this as a perfect hiding spot and I may have just compromised it. I'd best put it back the way I found it.
Once again, he closes the lingerie-designed caboodle and pushes it back under the bed with care this time, positioning it just as he'd found it before exiting the underbelly of the sleeping regions and returning to lamenting over what to do for the last ten minutes of his time alone in the apartment.
