Legacy of the Fathers
a Dragon Ball Fanfic by Torankusu Senshi Flames of hell
engulfing both world and spirits
Blue White world turned Red
In this Hell
Two
One,
The descendant of royalty,
Pride as great as Sins
Other
the lineage of purity
Bound by honor
as bound by the heart
On dying ground
Two Shall Face.
And,
Concluding the rivarly that spans lifetimes,
One Shall Triumph.
The once great world of Chikyuu had been reduced to a veritable hellhole. From space, one might once have seen abundant waters, and plentiful green landscape, dotted with white clouds in the sky. It was like that for countless millenia, and the Great Peacekeepers of the planet protected this fragile blue white world during it's darkest hours. It flourished, and was peaceful. But now, as all things, this world of blue and green was coming to an end.
Instead of the waters and lush landscapes that once covered the surface of this world, the only thing that now covered it was fire. Even from the void of space, one could see the huge flames and volcanic explosions that flooded on the surface. Flames, explosions, and ash. Even the once great oceans of the planet were red with lava.
It was even worse on the planet than once could see from space. The air, if it could still be called that, was thin and hot, the result of too many volcanoes and too much ash in the air. The ground was a mixture of craters and rivers of running lava. The only actual ground one could touch or see was the dried lava of old explosions, which was currently being covered by that of new ones. At the moment, one volcano, taller than the rest, erupted furiously, spewing even more of the planet's lifeblood into the dense air. Nothing could survive this.
The problem was, for this already dying planet, that two beings still were.
Above that very volcano that just exploded, in the center of the fountain of lava, was a single man. If he could be called that. He was suspended in midair, held up by the force of his own power. The lava that flew through the air actually seemed to part around his form, a thin membrane of blue energy outlining the ripped body. The man had shock black hair, with the same color eyes, and loose fitting clothes of nearly the same shade.
Against all odds, another man, directly across an expanse of fire, surrounded with that same eerie blue light, floated. His hair was spiked, like the other man's, but this was different, it stood shock straight up from his head, almost like a spike. He had the same color eyes, and he stood around the same height as the other. However, instead of the loose fitting black garments of the other, this one wore tight blue clothes, which hugged his ripped muscles, allowing him freedom of movement, in much the same way as the others clothes.
The two stared at each other across the flaming air, the glare one that would have melted anything that wasn't doing so already.
The first man spoke:
"Gekido, enough of this! There isn't any reason to continue!"
The other man's voice came back, haughty and condescending.
"Shoto, you should know better. It'll never be over, not until one of our two bloodlines passes away."
The other's controlled manner seemed to evaporate, and he screamed, trying in vain to reason with Gekido.
"Isn't centuries of warfare enough!! Why now, even as this world dies?!"
"This world may die, but one of us shall long before that. Now, prepare yourself!"
And with that, the eerie blue light around Gekido seemed to erupt, much like the surrounding volcanoes, going from merely a light to a seeming explosion of blue flame. What was left of the ground shook, and the lava seemed to curl around him.
Without an almost inhuman battle cry, Gekido launched himself across the newly born battlefield, leaving behind him a rapidly dissipitating trail of blue fire.
Shoto, though the expression on his face was one of reluctance, mirrored the blue white explosion of power, his open palm managing to come up just in time to intercept the incoming fist of Gekido.
Not to be deterred, Gekido twisted his wrist and pulled it free, and his limbs lashed out with lightning speed, with force only one of their race could manage.
Faster than the human eye could possibly see, and nearly impossible to imagine, Shoto's arms and legs were there to intercept every blow, yet none of his own were ever thrown. He simply countered, and the two warriors, surrounded by what seemed to be the light of a small blue star, battled their way backwards, through more explosions of liquid hot magma.
One particularly large shockwave, the result of clashing fists, shook the ground, and caused the two fighters to be propelled away from each other. Shoto took this moment to try and reason with the other man.
"Gekido! Enough people have died as a result of this pointless war! End this!"
"Why do you care?! We're going to die anyway!" screamed Gekido, his face in a flush. Then, in a single motion, he cupped his calloused hands at his side and thrust them forward, straight at Shoto. A blue beam roughly the size of them, erupted from his fists, blazing through the area at his opponent.
Shoto cursed aloud, throwing his body to the side with as much speed as he could muster, the beam slicing cleanly through the air he had just been in. But before he could even spin around and face his opponent once more, he felt a blow like a megaton hammer slam into his back. With a cry of pain, Shoto found himself slamming roughly into a makeshift crater of rock and gravel below.
Impossible. Gekido had never been that strong. Not even when they were younger had he been able to get the drop on him like that. Unless......he jerked his head up from where it rested in the dirt, looking at where Gekido had been.
But the voice came from the side, no more than few feet away. "Surprised, friend?" The accent he put on the last word was brimming with so much hatred it almost made Shoto wince.
He turned to see the source of the voice, and indeed, saw Gekido. But this time his hair was golden, his eyes emerald....and what appeared to be golden flames coursed over his body like a symbol of his rage.
Gekido had become the first Super Saiyajin in a thousand years.
The man's smirk was like steel, his entire manner radiating a controlled fury.
"Now, friend, you see how useless this is. I am a Super Saiyajin, like our ancestors. I have you to thank for that."
Shoto cursed under ragged breaths, pulling himself out of the dirt and to his feet with a thrust.
"Gekido......I never meant to..........it was an accident!"
The other man's controlled manner seemed to evaporate, and he screamed in fury, the Earth shaking beneath him.
"It's your fault she's dead, kisama!"
Shoto screamed back. "She was my sister!"
"I loved her!" With that last shout, Gekido launched himself across the newly born arena at Shoto, his fist drawing back.
It was a blow that would have ended everything, indeed, certainly the life of Shoto. But this was not to end yet, and not so simply.....
Shoto screamed, his muscles tearing and ripping with his hidden power, his body growing to accomadate his new power. He could feel the fire, the golden fire that almost drve him insane with it's power, consume him, and once again his hand was there to intercept the golden fist coming at him.
"You weren't the only one to gain something from that experience, kisama!" screamed Super Saiyajin Shoto.
The look of surpise, and maybe even fear, on the scarred features of Gekido lasted only a moment. It was replaced by a look of such passionate fury that Chikyuu beneath them again seemed to protest. Shoto, finally giving in to the urge to combat the other man, mirrored the look, and screamed in rage.
And the two of them simulataneously drew their fists back, and clashed.
What followed next could only be described as a battle beyond imagination.
The two combatants fought all across the surface of Chikyuu, dragging the already dying world into their hopeless fight. Fists, their knuckled covered in blood and dirt, rocketed towards the other, intercepted by a block or strike. Their kicks spun and cut the air, like the blade of a sword. Their blows went faster than almost they could see, and the few that managed to get through the guard of the other went unnoticed. They were so blinded by their own hatred for the other that all they do, now, was fight. Even if they would die in minutes, with the planet, that didn't matter. All that mattered was paying back the other for the suffering and pain inflicted during years of warfare.
Gekido's style was harsh, and no nonsense. The blows he dealt were swift and powerful, each one being powered by the added punch of his ki. Each one was dealt to a vital or weakening point, but almost every time the blows were intercepted or blocked. This only served to enrage him further, and he fought on.
Shoto's style was not as severe as the one of his opponent, but it was no less painful in the blows it dealt.
Neither went for moves that would simply inflict pain, such as a face shot. Despite the depth of their hatred, they had been raised and trained too well for such things. They fought to kill, and did it well.
Of course, all of this went unnoticed at such close range, all one could see, if anything, were the screams, blood, sweat, and shockwaves of the battle.
An open hand strike moved past Gekido's guard, slamming into his soloplexes with more force than he could stand. His breath left him, and then the onslaught began. Shoto's blows struck him all over his body, each one striking him with power that would have cracked the surface of Chikyuu with ease. Finally, a blow meant to kill struck his gut, and he slammed into the lava beneath the two of them like a meteor.
Shoto floated where he stood, breathing hard. It was impossible to tell how long they had been fighting, but he knew it was beginning to take his toll on him.
Gekido, his face coated with blood, his armor falling off him in shards, rose from the lava. He turned his emerald, murderous gaze on Shoto, and the two stared each other down.
Broken souls, lost hopes...
Gekido screamed, one hand arcing to the side of his body in a graceful movement. Above his hand formed a small disc of yellow light, the edges glowing like those of a blade. He grunted, and with all his might flung the disc at Shoto.
"Kienzan!"
Shoto's aura flared golden as he blazed to the side, but even then he knew it was not enough. The Kienzan continued on it's arc, heading to the peaceful void of space. Shoto coughed blood from his mouth, grasping the flesh of his left arm with a hand. He felt blood coursing over and between the fingers as he vainly tried to hold the wound shut, his teeth gritting, intense pain the only reward for his efforts.
He saw Gekido rise from the corner of his eye, and continue, until the two's eyes were inches from each other, and they could feel the breah from the other on their faces. Gekido's voice was ragged, tired, but somehow none of the hate was filtered out from it:
"Looks like......I win.....for good...this time...."
As he said the final words, before he could feel any emotion of triumph, a new feeling overcame him. Pain. It coursed through his chest like a flame, and he could barely look up to Shoto, wide eyed, as his control gave out, and gravity pulled him gracefully to the floor below.
Shoto's arm was outstretched, right where Gekido's chest had been moments earlier. The fist was closed, and around it a white light glowed, in the unmistakable form of a dagger, the energy hard even for him to look at. He exhaled, the light around his hand disappearing as he did so. And then gravity, too, pulled him to the floor, and he landed hard on both knees in the dried lava bed, next to where Gekido lay.
Slowly, the other man sat up, looking at his chest. Nothing. But the pain he had felt was unmistakable. He managed to turn his head to see Shoto beside him, the look on his bloodied features one of that same hate, but with a tone of admiration:
"Nice move..."
Shoto took a moment to reply, he was too busy gathering his breath. "I had a good teacher."
Gekido's face again twisted into an expression of malevolence, and he spit to his side, slowly pushing himself up from the floor.
Shoto did the same, with just as much difficulty. The two were operating on willpower alone, now. Their bodies were too battered, beaten, and bruised to be of much help without their own inner strength.
Shoto watched Gekido a moment. "Gekido..........this isn't about us.......this isn't our war.....you know our ancestors came to terms with each other..."
"Fool. What our ancestors did matters little. This, at one point, may not have been our war, but it is now."
"We could have been friends..."
"...Maybe, once upon a time. But too much has happened, you know that."
Shoto sighed. He let go of the wound on his shoulder, letting the blood course freely down the arm. Though he had been at rest a few minutes, he was breathing even harder. Seemed the air was getting too thin for even a saiyajin to inhale.
In a slow, determined movement, he crouched sideways, looking over his left shoulder at Gekido. He cupped his hands at his right waist, and the area around them seemed to shudder in anticipation.
Gekido gave a small nod, and leaped backwards a few hundred yards easily. Touching down on the floor, he nearly mirrored the movement of Shoto, with slight differences in hand and leg stances.
In Shoto's hands appeared a glowing ball, bathing the red scenery in an eerily contrasting blue light.
In Gekido's cupped palms formed a crimson mass of energy, turning his surroundings an even harder shade of red.
The two stared at each other, across time and space, knowing that this would end at all. The hatred was gone, replaced by looks of......regret?
"Kame Hame Ha!" Shoto thrust his cupped hands forward at Shoto, and a blue beam, the concentration of his very soul, twice his length and width, leaped from his palms. The ground beneath the beam spread out like if it were mere water before the might of the attack.
"Gallick...Ho!" Gekido let his own beam of crimson death leap from his cupped hands, the ground ripping in the samve movements.
The beams collided in an explosion of power, ripping up any landscape near them that had yet to feel the effects of battle. Little did they know, they were unconsciously mimmicking the first battle...the one that started all these centuries of warfare, thousands of years ago.
The beams sizzled the air, and the two men screamed, putting all of their reserves into it.
Minutes later, after the battle was over, Chikyuu exploded.
The winner could have been told, but indeed, the winner did not matter. All this was a battle of hatred, a vengeance of centuries of wrongdoings, by both sides. All that matters is that finally, after centuries of rivarly, this war finally was over, and the souls of those who were caught up in it could rest in peace.