"In The End"
"In The End"
Chapter 2
July 29, 760 AD.
The Great Kami, God of Earth, sat gingerly upon the white stone tiles of the sacred lookout and laid his gnarled staff across his lap. "Hmm." He ran his aged hands along its grooved surface, silky smooth from many centuries of use.
His wrinkled brow creased as he thought, 'How many times have I sat like this? Too many to count at this point… Here at the edge of my home the vantage of the Earth is best. Perhaps it is this very reason why I am drawn to it.' He sighed heavily through his nose. 'Its beauty never ceases to steal my breath away.'
His sensitive ears pricked at the gentle sound of footsteps and he craned his head to greet his faithful consort. "Ah. Good morning Mister Popo! I was just enjoying the warmth of the sun. Care to join me?"
The ebony skinned genie bowed and smiled. "It is a fine day… I would love to." He crouched beside the elderly Namek and rested comfortably upon his knees. He paused to bask in the morning rays then adjusted his turban anxiously, "I sensed there was something on your mind."
Kami chuckled, "You're so attuned to me, my friend. But if you must ask, then yes, there is something…" He cast his gaze to the blue-green planet below. "There has been a disruption in the balance of this plane. It was only for an instant like ripples in a pond. Piccolo sensed it as well. Whatever it is it had enough impact that he broke his daily meditation to find it."
Popo nodded. "It must be important then."
"I cannot tell at this point but it seems that whatever it may be is connected to him…us… something distinctly familiar but that I can't quite place my finger on."
"Is it something evil, sir?"
Kami shook his head. "I have a feeling it isn't and I trust my instincts enough. The reason for my alarm is that I've never felt this before. I am aware of every being living on the planet and yet this has suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Until now, it didn't exist."
"How can something nonexistent exist, sir?"
"My thoughts exactly..." Kami raised his cane erect at his side and attempted to rise only to find his hips and knees groaning in protest. "Nhg-Hah hah! Now I know why I stopped doing this! I'm afraid these old bones just aren't what they used to be."
"Oh dear, let me help!" The spry Popo hurried to gather his mentor against his side, looping a thick arm around his middle and pulling him easily to his feet. "Should I prepare some medicinal tea for your rheumatism, sir?"
"It would do, yes thank you."
Popo hesitated. "…should I…?"
Kami waved him off, "I'll be with you shortly. Just give me a moment." He closed his eyes and bowed his head as if in prayer. Tentatively, he gave a mental nudge to his younger counterpart and received a gruff response.
'What is it old man?'
Kami cringed at the insult and decided it that it was better to say nothing in retort lest he provoke the lad's short temper further. 'I'm concerned about this force we've felt. Are you able to pinpoint its origin?'
……
…………………………
There was a moment of silence before Piccolo gave a derisive snort. 'Tch! …Nothing that concerns you!'
'It is my concern. Have you forgotten that I have a responsibility to the people?' The elder Namekian ground out. 'I'm concerned about the balan-'
'IT ISN'T FAR from where I've taken residence,' Piccolo interrupted. '…maybe seven kilometers from it…'
'Any relations as to who or what it may be?'
'Don't know that yet, but I'll keep you posted.'
'………'
'……So get the fuck out of my head already.'
'As you wish…'
……
Piccolo was quite relieved when he felt Kami's touch recede from his consciousness. He never did appreciate the old geezer being able to barge into his head whenever he pleased. Alas, it was the consequence of their origin as one man, the true demon king Piccolo who more or less spat him up while in the throes of death. In other words, the demon king was his father and that made Piccolo the nephew of Kami. Somehow or other, being the offspring of the demon king still made him half of Kami, which is why they share such an intricate bond.
He shook his head. It was all so dreadfully confusing. The point is the last thing Piccolo needed was the old God asking questions about something that he himself didn't understand. It had only been a few minutes since he first sensed the unusual presence and if he didn't think it was important he wouldn't have taken the effort to seek it out.
He sighed irritably, "…Never a dull moment…"
…
……
They lingered in the shadows, the faint din of a wind chime the only sound resonating through the empty streets. Slanted eyes as piercing as a cloudless sapphire sky glimmered with morbid satisfaction. Thin lips widened into twin grins as neither could restrain their jovial laughter.
Gohan stumbled clumsily, shattering the perfect still with such a clamor anyone who stubbornly remained in town would have emerged to look.
"How entertaining..." They mused.
One would think that after all this time he would have learned that struggling was useless. But where was the fun in that? They had to give him credit. The man possessed a remarkable will to live, inextinguishable, and violently addictive to their sadistic cravings.
"LET HIM GO!" Gohan shouted.
Eighteen appeared at the edge of a rooftop, the wind catching the golden locks of her hair. She tucked a silken strand behind one ear and smiled, "And what if we don't?"
He spat blood, "He's only a boy. Your fight is with me. You know he isn't a threat so why continue using him just to get at me?"
"Because we enjoy making you and your loved ones suffer..."a voice replied from behind him.
Gohan spun on his heels only to realize too late that he'd lead himself straight into Seventeen's awaiting fist. He fell hard on his back, unconscious before he hit the ground.
The raven haired android smirked, "Opse." He nudged the man sprawled at his feet with the toe of his sneaker. "Walked right into that one…"
Eighteen leapt from her perch, eyeing her twin in annoyance, "Is the boy alive?"
Seventeen smiled gently and extended an index finger at Gohan. He fired several strategically aimed ki bands to make extra sure he didn't try to escape again and finally acknowledged his sister, "Barely..."
Eighteen twirled her finger viciously 'round a strand of hair with an unsatisfied growl.
Seventeen crouched beside their fallen adversary, "Do you really think you could run away from us?"He frowned when he didn't receive a response and punched the guy in the face with an audible crack.
"You beat him too hard," Eighteen complained. "I want him conscious enough to watch…"
"Don't get your panties in a twist. He's still breathing though I can't promise he will be for very long…"
"…Long enough?" Eighteen questioned.
Seventeen nodded.
"Nn…Ngh…"
Eighteen laughed, "Aw, he's waking up…"
"Quite resilient," Seventeen agreed.
Gohan tugged futilely at the ki bands keeping him bound to the asphalt. He was having difficulty seeing out of his left eye and he felt something warm on his face. He licked his lips and the metallic taste of blood was sharp on his tongue. Shit, what had he gotten himself into now?
"mm… Persistent isn't he?" She toed Gohan's chin and raised his face to look up at her. "Are you that eager to die?" She kicked him and he gasped, which only made her laugh more. She dug her boot heel into his sternum, delighting in his desperate struggles.
Gohan wheezed, the pressure on his chest making it impossible to breathe. He tried in vain to move but bound by both his wrists and ankles made escape unfeasible.
"Seems to be having a little trouble…," Seventeen snickered.
Eighteen dug her heel a little harder, twisting as she did so. "Well, since we have him where we want him, why not have a little fun?" She lifted her foot and Gohan gasped in relief, greedily sucking air into his oxygen starved lungs.
Seventeen returned his attention to the teenager held to a building opposite of them and fisted a handful of lavender hair. "I want you to learn what we do to people who give us trouble… So sit back, have a little fun, and don't die… It'd be a pity to see you drown in your own blood before we have a chance to do you too…" He sneered.
Moaning pitifully, Trunks sagged against the wall he was restrained to. "G-hk –KAFF-…Go…han…" He tugged at his wrists helplessly though he was clearly unable to free himself much like his mentor.
Seventeen cupped the boy's face and leaned close to lick a trail of tears from his cheek. "Mm, I love the taste of misery, so sweet."
Trunks' eyes slipped closed, a crimson stream of saliva oozing from the corner of his mouth, "P-Please…"
"P-Please," Seventeen mocked in a whiney voice.
"Tch-heh, you're so sick," Eighteen teased. "Now come on. I don't have all day you know… Keep wasting my time and I'll start without you!"
The raven haired android abandoned the teenager and returned his attention to Gohan. "Me first…"
…
……
'Wh- what was that?'
The sound of glass shattering startled Chichi out of her reverie as her attention was diverted from washing the dishes to her son. "GOHAN!! How many times have I told you to be gentle with the dishes?! That's the third glass you've broken today!!"
Gohan shivered, staring at the tiny shards in his hands and lowered his head in shame. "Sorry Mom…I …I don't know why…There's so much I've been thinking about…"
"Oh, my poor boy!" Chichi dried her hands and hurried to the end of the table facing the front door. She embraced her son's head, his face against her chest and crooned, "My poor poor child! You study so much I bet you dream about it!! My, what an intelligent boy I've raised! I bet it's those exams that's got you all upset, isn't it?"
Gohan blushed, squirming in her grip. "Mom, it's not that," was his muffled reply.
Chichi quieted and relinquished her hold on him. "Well, then what is it?" She rushed back to the sink and reached into the cupboard underneath it for the whisk broom, then hurried back to sweep up the glass.
"I don't know… I feel really weird..."
"Are you getting sick?!" Chichi shrieked.
"No ma! I feel fine!"
His mother gave an exasperated sigh. "Goodness! I just don't know about you anymore! Your head is always up in the clouds! You aren't focused enough and I blame that on your father and that evil Piccolo's influence!!"
Gohan rolled his eyes. "No mom. It's not that. I'm doing fine… It's just that I think I had a dream only that I was awake and it just happened. I think I had a vision or something... There were these two people and someone with purple hair…"
Chichi gawked at her son like he'd suddenly grown a second head. "You honestly can't expect me to believe that you're having visions?! You're hardly delusional Gohan, it's just that you've been watching entirely too much of that anime stuff on television at night… You've haven't had enough rest! …Always wanting to train and work and play and do everything but what you're supposed to! Think about your GPA! How do you expect to get into a prestigious college with all this nonsense about visions and training! You aren't a super hero Gohan! You're just a child and I won't have you turning into a Karate Bum like that ungrateful father of yours!"
Gohan clenched his teeth, "……"
Chichi huffed in frustration and emptied the contents of the dustpan into the trash bin. "You should take a nap and in the mean time I'll prepare you a hot cup of ginseng tea with honey. Would you like that?"
Gohan nodded solemnly.
"Alright then, to your room, I'll take care of the glass on the table. After you've rested enough I want you getting back to your calculus like a good boy."
"……"
Chichi pointed to the hall, "MARCH!"
"Yes mother." Gohan rose sluggishly from the table and went to his room without another word.
...
……
Piccolo ran his hands along the yellow hull of the domed craft. He had been hesitant to approach it at first, learning from personal experience that alien space crafts never meant well. Nevertheless, his curiosity got the best of him (and since no one else was around) he decided it was better to see it up close for himself rather than to rush to conclusions.
He eyed the word "HOPE" scrawled in the paint. 'So whoever it is can speak English. That's a relief…"
"Mmmnnnnngh..."
Piccolo nearly leapt out of skin at the ghostly moan emanating from within the craft, "What the?!" He levitated to peer through the thick dome of glass at the being swaddled in a patchwork quilt. He released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. 'Shit… It's only a human! Tch, I was half expecting someone like Freiza to come tearing out of there… So what the fuck is a human doing in something like this?'
He frowned at the swollen left eye and array of bandages on the face around the individual's wild head of hair. 'Looks like he's had the shit beat out of 'im…'
Piccolo tapped the glass to see if it elicited a response and was pleased to find the man open his one good eye. "Hey, you okay?"
The man continued to stare at him as if he hadn't registered what Piccolo said and closed his eye.
Piccolo growled. "HEY!" He pounded the glass with his fist. "Wake the fuck up and answer me!"
The man woke again and looked around him in confusion. "Nn…" His brows furrowed as his mind began to process his surroundings and without thinking he attempted to rise, "NnnnMmm…nh…ah-AAIEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAaHHH!!" The blanket fell away from the man's torso as he screamed, revealing the severity of his injuries.
Piccolo gripped his ringing ears at the blood curdling sound. 'God Damn, every inch of him is covered!'
The stranger continued to holler and cry, much to the chagrin of Piccolo's abused ears, till the sheer agony of his wounds forced him back into a blissful state of unconsciousness.
…
…
Piccolo shook his head, grateful for the silence. "Hn. Looking like that I don't blame you for the racket… SO what kind of mess did you get yourself into anyway?" Not expecting a reply he began searching for a way to open the hatch.
He circled the craft, eyes darting to the figure within then back to his quest for entry. After several minutes of searching his patience had grown thin and he would have taken great pleasure in simply plowing his fist through the glass. But, he didn't wish to risk injuring the stranger further.
He was suddenly jerked to a halt when the edge of his cape snagged a vertical piece of metal protruding from the hull that he hadn't noticed before. He leaned back, studying the hull a foot below and tugged his cape free.
"Yes!" He kicked the raised lever, chastising himself for not having seen it initially and moved away as the dome sprung open with a hiss of pressurized air.
The stranger did not stir for which the namekian demi-god was grateful.
Hastily, Piccolo flew up to hover above the man, finding a narrow space alongside the chair-turned-bed that the man lay on and lowered himself to stand beside him. He breathed heavily, unable to understand why he felt such a rush of anxiety. There was something familiar about this man and that feeling continued to grow upon closer inspection.
'He's hurt bad, worse than I could have imagined…'
Piccolo proceeded to unfold the blanket, understandably curious. What he saw was no different from his upper half and aside from the monstrous amount of bandaging, the man was clothed. Whoever cared for him had spared the young man his dignity by dressing him in a familiar pair of red-orange pants, which reminded him of-
His breath caught in his throat.
THAT WAS IT! THAT WAS WHY THIS MAN LOOKED SO FAMILIAR!! HE LOOKED SAIYAJIN! But clearly he wasn't Goku. Piccolo had known the buffoon all his life and would have recognized him at first glance. Nevertheless, the stranger's appearance, despite the wrappings, was undeniably that of son Goku though the hairstyle wasn't the same.
'Another wayward brother perhaps…? Hopefully nothing like Radditz…' he shuddered, the memories of that encounter still raw in his mind.
Now if he could just prove his assumption by finding a tail… He uncovered the man completely, making sure not to stir him lest he risk another round of deafening cries.
eeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!
Piccolo's hands flew to his ears and he stumbled back against the console behind him, nearly falling head first overboard. He managed to catch himself but that left his hearing vulnerable to the attack.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
"FUCK!" he roared, covering his ears again only after he'd regained some of his balance. The pressure of his palms did little to assuage the skull shattering pain. He swayed drunkenly, his equilibrium suffering from the assault, 'Where the fuck is it coming from?!'
He quickly found the cause of all the noise located beneath the console where a red LED bulb glowed. He struck it, altogether extinguishing the light and sound.
Immediately, he fell to his knees and sagged against the side of the reclined chair the stranger occupied, wondering what the hell he'd ever done to deserve this. Here he was, playing hero for the greater good of Earth and this is what he got in return.
"Uuhooh…" Piccolo moaned, pressing his face into an exposed part of the seat cushion. Why did his weakness have to be his ears? His head throbbed in succession to his heartbeat and he wondered idly if his healing ability could cure migraines as well. Only time would tell but in-
"GKSsssssHHkk." The sound of static interrupted his thoughts, soon followed by a woman's voice.
The time is O' eight hundred hours, Month of June, day eighteen, year seven seventy-four A D.
Gohan, I have an important message for you.
Piccolo froze.
TO BE CONTINUED…