Warning: Descriptions of mutilated bodies. Occurs around 8,000 words in.

While Vegeta was throwing his temper tantrum, Raditz and Gohan were trying to evacuate the city. Of course, Raditz's idea of evacuating a city was to walk down the street and blast whoever came into contact with him. Therefore, getting to their objective was a slow and painfully grating process. Granted, most of the warriors left behind to guard the populace were pathetically weak; at least weak enough to be killed by Raditz.

In the meantime, Gohan was nursing his lacerated arm. It was swelling up and becoming a bit red around the edges—a telltale signs of an infection. He wasn't going to tell anybody, though. Doing so would only lead to mockery at best, death at worst. It was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

However, Gohan knew that all of the little things that Raditz and he were doing were irrelevant. The true battle for Meteora was being fought in the sky, very close to the square where this attack had started from. Their ki outputs were nothing short of mind-boggling to the chibi saiyan; both felt like they were on fire.

Suddenly, Vegeta ki dropped down significantly and the queen's ki rose significantly. It was pretty clear to the child saiyan that "his prince" was about to lose. `This isn't good. I better tell Raditz,' thought the boy. He didn't like the saiyans, but he wasn't a fan of becoming a prisoner to the people he killed. No, that wasn't going to be on his wish list anytime soon.

"Uh, Raditz," squeaked out Gohan, his voice stopping at an inopportune time. `You really don't know how to talk to them, do you Gohan?' asked his dormant voice, smirking at how lost he was.

"What, brat?" replied Raditz, not really in the mood for games or idle chit-chat. If the kid wanted something, he better spit it out.

"Vegeta's losing," the kid promptly spat out. He just hoped his demented uncle actually believed him.

"Really, kid?" snorted Raditz, never having heard of such a funny or ludicrous joke. "I'm supposed to believe that?"

"I'm telling the truth Raditz. If you don't believe me, check that thing around your eye," retorted Gohan, while pointing towards his scouter.

Raditz continued to snort in indignation, but if it meant shutting up the kid he'd do it. Pressing the button on his scouter, he was stunned to see what he was reading. The kid was exactly right; Vegeta's ki was significantly lower than his challenger.

Suddenly, both of them felt another power enter the battlefield and promptly disappear from the battlefield. Gohan and Raditz immediately recognized the vanishing power. It was the not-so-lovable lug by the name of Nappa.

Gohan didn't know how Raditz would react to his comrade's death. He didn't know if they had been close, if his uncle knew how to deal with grief or if anything he was thinking was actually accurate to Raditz's personality. As for himself, he didn't know what to think. He could barely even describe him properly, and that was only due to how uniquely huge Nappa was.

His thoughts didn't prevent him from surveying Vegeta's battle, though. It was clear that after Nappa died, that Vegeta was free. And boy was he angry; Gohan could feel his rage from all the way on the other side of the city.

It wasn't long before both sensed Vegeta far above the city, powering up his Galick Gun. Gohan had never felt a ki blast so powerful before, but it looked suspiciously like his father's signature attack—the Kamehameha.

Of course he assumed Raditz knew this information too, of which the long-haired saiyan most certainly did. At least it explained why Raditz was taking to the air to escape the city, forgetting his charge in his rush.

Gohan wasn't going to let his demented uncle forget him, not even for a second. "Are you going to just let me die here? I don't know how to fly!" screamed Gohan, in a voice louder than he ever thought was possible.

Raditz's snorted loudly at Gohan's request, and it didn't take a ventriloquist to figure out he was disgusted at the boy's capabilities. Nevertheless, he hadn't gone to all the trouble of getting the boy here to let him die. Rushing back to ground level, the lanky saiyan grabbed the chibi saiyan by the tip of his tail and flew away from Varlaam.

Gohan was wondering if dying in Vegeta's attack was preferable to this form torture. Raditz's grip on his tail was making him deliriously weak, so much so that he couldn't even move a single finger. Whatever Raditz was doing to punish him for weakness and potential insubordination was certainly working. He wouldn't wish this kind of agony on anybody.

It wasn't much longer until Vegeta's Gallick Gun detonated into Varleem, eradicating any and all life in its blast radius. Fortunately, Raditz and Gohan were far enough away by then to evade any possibly of physical damage from the attack. Regardless, the sight of the beam detonating like a kiloton nuclear bomb was something that was truly awe-inspiring to witness.

Gohan stared into the mushroom cloud that sprung forth from the explosion, reverting back into the trance he was in during Vegeta's assault on the square. `This is who I'm supposed to beat in battle to regain my freedom? How? How could I ever get the power to threaten a being like this?' he pondered, wondering if he was beginning to resign himself to this destiny.

Sadly, Gohan didn't have a clue about how he would ever get out of the conflict he was brought into. Deep down, he knew he wouldn't be the same regardless of the coming events. In essence, the boy he once knew was slowly dying and what was replacing him was a mystery.

He just hoped his new mysterious identity would be that of a good guy instead of a bad guy.

It wasn't the first time Raditz was in an awkward predicament. After living with the as-lively-as-a-stiff-board saiyan prince for two decades, he was accustomed to the prince's frequent silent spells. It wasn't uncommon for him to stop talking for days on end. He even remembered a time where the prince went silent for a month back when he was a young adult.

At least in those times he had Nappa around. He may've been an oaf, but at least he was amusing to talk to at times. Now, Raditz didn't even have that miniscule amount of company around.

The lanky saiyan sighed despondently; he really missed the companionship of the oaf. It was better than his brat of a nephew or the stony-faced prince. Of course, he'd shank anybody who insinuated that he actually liked the former general. They both had a job to do: protect the prince, and that was the only thing they agreed on.

Currently, they were in a clearing in a dark dank forest. The City of Varlaam housed the vast majority of the meteoran populace; therefore hunting down the residential communities on the fringe of society would be an easy task. However, they were all exhausted from purging Varlaam and none of them really wanted to continue on until sunrise the next day. So, they camped out in a woodland just east of the former city of Varlaam.

Tension immediately arose between Gohan and Vegeta in camp. Of course Gohan wasn't willing to inflame Vegeta's ire right about now, so that tension wouldn't be exacerbated any time soon.

That didn't mean either party wanted to look at each other. Once a fire was started, Vegeta promptly took the place by the fire and Gohan vacated the area in favor of the shadowed perimeter of the campsite.

Raditz slowly approached the darkened corner that Gohan had occupied. The sight of the kid sulking in a corner did nothing but repulse the saiyan. He swore he heard a bit of a weep. How revolting! It was completely unbefitting of a true saiyan warrior. Curling his lip in disgusted, he stepped forward into Gohan's field of vision.

"Kid, knock it off," he sneered, "the sulking I mean. Just accept that your never gonna leave us. So, you might as well join us. Maybe we won't think that you're such a sniveling brat if you do."

"What do you want?" answered Gohan curtly, not even trying to hide the annoyance and spite in his voice. "I doubt it was to tell me that I'm a brat!"

Raditz smirked at the half-saiyan. "You're developing a bit of a back-bone, I like that," he said, reaching out to wrap one of his hands around Gohan's chin. "I'm not going to talk about that though. No, what we need to discuss is your battle performance. It was pathetic boy. So reluctant to kill or injure, what kind of saiyan are you? Are you completely impervious to the lust of battle?"

Gohan snorted at his demented uncle, glaring into the white of Raditz's eyes. "So, I'm not a bully like you! I don't enjoy destroying things and killing people. Why is that so hard for you to understand?" Tears were practically in the corners of his eyes during his rant.

Raditz's started to glower at his brat of a nephew, enraged at the boy's disregard for his captor. "Do you want me to end your life, boy? If you anger me one more time, I'll be forced to rip your head off."

Gohan chose not to reply to Raditz's threats, opting to take the more passive approach to solving his problem: leaving. He picked himself up and started walking towards the shadowy forest, not even flinching or looking behind to see what Raditz would do.

It was a solidly thought of plan provided that Raditz would actually consent to having Gohan leave. Alas, that wasn't the case. Raditz phased right in Gohan's path, smiling smugly as he blocking his entrance into the forest. "Just where do you think you're going? We aren't done yet!"

"Yes, we are done. I don't want to hear your voice again. It's irritating me!" growled out Gohan, feeling more and more control slipping away. Why was Raditz blind enough not to see it?

"Aw, my voice irritates you. Exactly what are you going to do about it?" snidely informed Raditz, grinning perversely at the toddler. His baiting was working. Gohan's anger was coming to the forefront.

"Please stop, Raditz. I don't want to hurt you," pleaded Gohan, desperation breaking through in his voice. He was dangerously close to losing control, one more probe and he'd lose it completely.

"You hurt me?" said Raditz, laughing uproariously at the thought that crossed the demi-saiyan's mind. "How do you plan on even scratching me, when you have no training, natural ability or killer instinct to make me feel any bit threatened of you? Was that your idea of a bad joke? Oh, don't make me guess, you got it from that joker of a father you have."

That did it. Gohan's power exploded around him, evaporating the modest and prudent boy that existed before. In his place was a feral animal, devoid of any rational thought or understanding of the boy that lived prior to its unleashing. A predator in the truest sense of the word.

Fortunately for Raditz, the boy's wrath would never have the chance to be channeled towards him. Within seconds the boy collapsed onto the porous dirt, knocked out cold swiftly. In the boy's place was the enigmatic saiyan prince, who had just pulled away his fist from the boy's neck

Glaring at the unconscious boy, Vegeta grabbed his shirt and lifted him up into the air. Not wasting a second, he walked back towards the campfire and haphazardly dropped the boy close to the fire. Completing his fluid motion, he walked to the far end of the campfire and sat down on a log.

Raditz approached the scene by the campfire, more than a bit nervous after what happened. Vegeta was every bit as volatile as Gohan, but nowhere near as restrained. He would kill him without even a moment hesitation if he got out of line.

Vegeta could easily feel Raditz's apprehension about approaching him. To calm down the lanky saiyan, he flicked his finger together to beckon the weaker saiyan to the campfire.

Raditz approached the log and slowly sat down on the log, shifting around a bit to find the most comfortable place. Once satisfied with his seat, he tried to open his mouth to talk but soon found himself unable to talk.

"There's nothing to talk about, Raditz. Not anything that you'd want me to say anyway," answered Vegeta, listlessly gazing into the fire. He looked like as pale as a ghost, and twice as haunting.

"Anyways, I'm almost had forgotten," said Vegeta, his tone not wavering in the slightest. "You won't be accompanying us back to base. I'm sending you back to Argos so you can confirm that your useless brother actually did kill the inhabitants of the planet, and you better pray he has done what you think he has. I shouldn't even tell you how much trouble we'll be in if he hasn't. Frieza has never liked anything done behind his back."

"Okay…Vegeta. Was that what you wanted to talk to me about?" answered Raditz, kind of relieved by the news. He could delay getting his ass whooped for at least a few more days.

"Not exactly," Vegeta replied, while snorting a few times softly like the exhaust of a car. "I'm not sure you'd want me to hurt your…feelings." Raditz could clearly hear Vegeta's disdain for the word feelings, as if the word meant less than dirt.

Raditz just stared at the side of Vegeta's face, partially illuminated by the dim light of the fire. He was contemplating asking Vegeta about this error he had committed, but chose not to. Being accosted wasn't super high on his list of things to do.

Vegeta was acutely watching Raditz through his peripheral vision, scanning the features of his face for any clue in to what he was thinking. The prince immediately deduced that the older saiyan was curious about his thoughts, but too hesitant to confront him. Unable to hold himself back, Vegeta began to bitterly laugh.

His prince's reaction greatly confused the older saiyan, to the point where he forgot his former hesitation. This behavior was just too bizarre for the older saiyan to accept from his prince. It forced him to respond. "Why are laughing, sir?"

The prince's laughing ceased immediately; his grim countenance returning. Averting his gaze to stare directly into Raditz's eyes, his lips began to move. "I'm laughing because you are pitiful; pathetic in the truest meaning of the word. So this is what the saiyan race has become—a prince, a has-been and an untrained brat. Father must be rolling in his grave."

Raditz was stunned to say the least. It didn't take any time at all to realize that Vegeta didn't exactly like him. He taunted him mercilessly, while ridiculing both his heritage and his skills. Somehow, he had been able to convince himself that they were made in jest; they weren't indicative of what Vegeta truly fought of him. Vegeta's statement didn't have the same tone or feeling as before, Raditz knew it was genuine.

"I know I'm weak, Vegeta," said Raditz, hurt evident in his voice. "If weakness means I'm pathetic, then you're right."

"Raditz you're pathetic for one reason and one reason only, and that reason isn't weakness," replied Vegeta, pausing to gaze into the fire. "You're a coward, even moreso than the brat you brought in. You hate yourself for being weak, but you're too afraid and lazy to change your weakness. You're tame!" he scoffed, turning his entire torso around to glower at the other saiyan.

"How am I a coward, Vegeta? I participated in all of your purges and have taken as many beating from Frieza as you have. What about that makes me a coward?" Raditz was practically choking on his spit. A coward? Him? On Vegetasei, that was the worst insult anybody could ever hurtle at you. Why was Vegeta calling him one when he was clearly wasn't?

"Don't lie to me you sack of shit!" snarled Vegeta, baring his fangs at older saiyan. "You don't think I don't know how your mind works? You don't take beating for me or sign up for purges out of bravery or loyalty, only force compels you; like any other coward. And don't think for a second that I didn't notice you happen to always end up taking the easiest assignment on a purge. How does this not make you a coward?"

"Then why don't you kill me, then?" yelled out Raditz, causing Vegeta to flinch from pitch of his voice. "If I'm such a waste of space, then what's the point in keeping me alive?" Oh how he wished for the power to cold-cock Vegeta right about now. If only so he could salvage the last remains of his honor.

"And that's why you're a coward, Raditz. You want the easy out, the path of least resistance. No ambition, whether it be to kill Frieza or become the strongest in the universe. No path, goals or willingness to be better. This conversation is over." With that, Vegeta reverted back to staring into the fire, ignoring Raditz's increasingly burdensome presence.

Raditz stormed away from the fire, trying to rid himself of Vegeta's destructive comments. `There had to be some mistake. How could he think I'm a coward after all I've tried to do for him? Is Nappa's death somehow corrupting him?' Raditz mused. It was all so confusing; Vegeta's scathing. Where did it come from and why?

Ultimately, it was question he had an answer for. Vegeta was dead on; Raditz knew it moreso than even his prince did. His life was all a lie, and he knew it. All the people he killed, all the purges where he barged into towns and villages acting as if he was a god of death, they were all shams. He was merely a weakling killing weaklings, a true member of the reclaimed indeed.

The lanky saiyan looked skywards, hoping for a sign from the stars above to disprove his thoughts—anything to turn his miserable state of his mind around.

Of course, nothing in the sky was outside of the ordinary. Meteora was very much like Earth in this regard, well except for the granite color. The distant galaxies, nebulas and stars were like white specks in the background of a universal canvas. In the foreground though, lay what Raditz was truly mesmerized by.

One massive moon, not dissimilar to the Moon that orbited Earth was clearly visible in the night sky. Unlike all of the other stars, the moon wasn't completely visible; half of the moon was lit up and the other half shrouded in darkness. It was at an equinox, where the light and darkness were equal to one another. But would the moon wax or would the moon wane?

And that was a question that not even Raditz knew for certain.

Baden's plan had been a riveting success up to that point. He hoped everything to come went as smoothly. Convincing Goku to become a penultimate kaioken turned out to be an easy venture, regardless of how risky a plan it was at the time. There was a lot at stake if everything fell through; he'd most likely lose his head. Nevertheless, it was a chance he would take. He refused to be a passive slave for even a moment longer.

The pre-teen walked toward his space-pod, determined to enter into the next phase of his operations. He grabbed the remote control, and pressed the button to open the latch that held down the door. After slowly crawling under the hatch, he turned around plopped down on the leather seat while closing the door of his space-pod.

Once the airlock was properly shut, the nasally voice of the computer turned on. "What are the coordinates of your optimum destination, sir?"

"Planet Ruhr in the Teuton Galaxy," replied Baden apathetically. It was moments like these in which having robots that could read minds would be really swell. Of course the rebellion that would occur later wouldn't be, but alas, that was the problem with all sentient minds.

"Coordinates confirmed, master; prepare for takeoff," answered the intercom, blasting off before it was even done with its message.

`I pity the fool that isn't prepared for takeoff!' Baden reflectively mused. 'These Cold Family pieces of shit really are pieces of art.' Alas, it was true; the standard issue space pod commissioned by the Cold Family was a remarkable piece of shoddy craftsmanship.

Unimportant monologue trailed another unimportant monologue for the entire trip to Ruhr. Baden couldn't maintain a single train of thought for anything more than a few minutes. Secretly, he knew why maintaining concentration was so difficult; he was trying to avoid one thought that came back intermittently that wasn't wanted. He had already thought about it enough for one lifetime.

Thankfully, his pod docked onto Ruhr before he lost his mind. Ruhr was a planet of green forests, blue skies and brownish gray mountains. Does that description sound like Earth? Yes, but the Earth didn't have grayish-black dirt that covered the Earth's crust.

Pressing the button to open up the pod's hatch, the pre-teen saiyan cautiously ducked underneath the roof of the pod and walked out into the open.

Activating his ki, Baden blasted off from the landing zone in pursuit of real destination. It wasn't too far away; he was a couple hundred kilometers away at the very most. Very soon, Baden would be with the only allies that he ever really knew.

Soon enough, the settlement of his presumed allies became visible. It was an odd…place to say the least. Then again, if the rumors were true, it was for a very good reason. King Cold and Cooler had been on their tail for the longest time. Nevertheless, it was show time. Baden proceeded to walk on the main street towards the largest tent.

The settlement itself looked like it was cast by rejects from Cirque du Soleil. Hundreds of portable tents, large and small, dotted the landscape and blended in with the general theme of the group: nomadic travelers. It was all very surreal!

Baden's foray onto the main thoroughfare had caused quite a bit of commotion. The townspeople had started to gather on the edges of the street, practically creating an impromptu parade for him. How flattering a gesture that was!

Don't be mistaken, though. These people didn't ordinary parade a foreigner to the center of their city, which was a statement that was fallacious to begin with. Baden was hardly a foreigner to these people. In fact, most of the tribe did remember the boy with vivid detail, and that made his reemerging all the more troubling.

To anybody else, this hodgepodge of people had numerous similar traits—fair skin, obstinately spiky black hair and most peculiarly, a furry brown rod-like tail. To Baden, they were very familiar faces. Faces from his past—scenes from his unique and lasting memory. It was a shame that those memories didn't become his reality, but what was a saiyan to do.

His stroll down memory lane didn't obstruct his mind from the increasing spectacle that his return was becoming. The king's chamber was in sight and so was the king, who was leaning on a balcony. With a deft leap, he jumped down onto street level prepared to greet the newcomer.

Baden came closer and closer, not-so subtly encroaching on the king's territory. Soon enough, the two figures were meeting eye-to-eye, mano-a-mano. They scrutinizing stared at each other, as if they were trying to find imposters.

After being satisfied that there weren't any imposters around, the king spoke up. "Baden? Is that really you? What brings you here?"

Baden's smile was equally coy, like he about to make some grand spectacle of himself. "How have you been doing father?"

Picking off the stragglers of the Meteoran race was easy, just as Vegeta predicted. They lived primarily in isolated groups, clustered together for protection. Of course when your predator is Vegeta, you may as drop dead right away; you won't be getting away or fighting him successfully anytime soon.

The only thing of note from this "target practice" was that Vegeta forced Gohan into killing a few more Meteoran's. Very reluctantly, Gohan did as he was told. In the boy's mind, killing was getting a bit easier but was no less repugnant to his conscience. That being said, you did as you were told when Vegeta was breathing down your neck.

Soon enough they were back at their pods, rocketing back into the vacuum of space. To Gohan's surprise, he saw Raditz's pod veer off in an entirely different direction. He debated asking Vegeta about what was happening, but he quickly threw that idea out. Vegeta would mostly likely contact him if anything wrong was happening, and disturbing the pseudo-stoic prince was definitely not on Gohan's list of priorities.

It wasn't long afterwards when Gohan saw their destination come into view: S.S Frieza Starship CXV. To say that Gohan was shocked was an understatement. The Death Star he remembered from that "Star Wars" movie couldn't even touch the impressive visage of Frieza's star cruiser. He speculated that an entire planet was on that ship. Of course he was wrong. The real estimate was about ten planets.

Before the boy even knew it, they were docking in a hanger bay. It was dark blue in color and almost completely abandoned; nobody seemed to like using it for some reason. There was a ton of available space.

If Vegeta noticed the large amount of empty space in this hangar, he sure didn't acknowledge it. The elder saiyan simply got out of his pod and briskly walked out of the docking zone with Gohan keeping a moderate distance behind him.

Upon exiting the loading chamber, they entered one of the common decks of Frieza's ship. The deck was a truly interesting experience; an amalgam of species both humanoid and really exotic, were teeming from everywhere. It made traversing the halls and chambers of the ship a true multicultural experience.

Although hundreds of races and ethnic differences painted the mosaic that was crew of the ship, Gohan noticed one increasingly common similarity that they all seemed to share: they really didn't like saiyans.

You could literally feel the animosity that rolled of their forms, it was practically tangible. To Gohan, this was understandable. Gohan knew that Vegeta was far from a good person, and that he was capable of doing a lot of dastardly deeds. `Maybe Vegeta killed their families, and that's why the dislike us. I'm just guilty because I'm with him, right?'

Deep down though, he wasn't so sure he was correct. True, fear did mix with genuine hatred in the cases of many of these aliens, but they were only accounted for a slight majority. Where did everybody else's hatred come from?

A hint to Gohan's question came soon enough. Most of the aliens they encountered scowled, started to hush quietly to each other or attempt to bump into them. Sure they're attempts were a tad inane, but were nothing in comparison to the foolishly boisterous alien they would be encounter next.

The idiotic alien looked vaguely human. He looked like a classic fruitcake: yellow skin, pale pink hair, and almost neon purple battle armor. Questions about whether he played on the same team aside, the curled smirk on his lips was simply infuriatingly smug.

"Hey monkey, how are you doing? I was just seeing…." His train of thought ended when he noticed Gohan behind Vegeta's back. "Oh I see you have a baby monkey. What happened Vegeta? Did you blow your—"

Vegeta had enough of the weakling's babbling; it was an insult to his ears. The ruthless siayn swiftly came upon the effeminate alien, and violent wrenched the bastard's head straight off his shoulders. With his self-delegated task completed, Vegeta carelessly flung the asshole's severed head into wall opposite him and nonchalantly walked away.

This little episode was the final interesting occurrence until Vegeta and Gohan reached their final destination: Frieza's throne room. Like everything else Frieza did, the door to his private chamber was lavishly designed. Screw gold trim, gold leaf or gold gild. This door was made of pure solid gold.

"Who is in there?" asked Gohan, curious about the person they were going to meet.

"Frieza: our boss," answered Vegeta, not bother to hide the irritation in his voice. This was definitely something he did not want to do.

"What are we going to do?" questioned Gohan, still confused about what they were doing there.

Vegeta groaned pitiably, languishing under the brat's torrent of stupid questions. "We are going to report to him that Meteora has been properly purged, and then we will get the shit beaten out of us. Any more questions?"

To the prince's displeasure, Gohan did have a question and wasn't astute enough to catch Vegeta's tone around "any more questions." "Why would he beat the shit out of us? You did your job well?"

"Exactly," replied Vegeta, while pushing the dense door apart and walking proudly into the throne room.

The time of reckoning had come for the demo-saiyan; Frieza's throne had come into view. He slowly walked forward, timidly putting one foot after another until he was standing side-by-side with Vegeta. `I hope this goes well,' the kid bleakly thought, praying that Frieza wasn't as bad as Vegeta made him sound like.

Other than the overly decadent door, everything else about Frieza's audience chamber was surprisingly spartan. There were no chairs, no furniture, no tables or any desks. Outside of Vegeta and Frieza's two lackeys, there wasn't anything in the room. Only intangible space separated the saiyans from their tormentor.

Gohan's eyes then turned towards Frieza's henchmen. It was immediately apparent that they were no ordinary soldiers. Their power levels were as high as Vegeta's, if not a bit higher. `Most likely Frieza's right-hand men,' mused Gohan, looking over to his left.

The right-hand man on the left was a sight only a mother could love. Whatever he was, he was very exotic to Gohan's eyes. The alien was very stout; perhaps portly would be a better description. No, screw that, just fat would better. A double-chin, flabby cheeks, dark pink skin and small pointy spikes on the crown of his head and forearms completed his hideous appearance.

The right-hand man on the right was the very opposite. This alien strongly resembled the anatomy of a human, but had cyan skin and green hair that greatly distinguished him from any human he ever knew. The second thing that could easily be inferred from the alien's appearance was he was probably bettered suited to be sipping wine in the comforts of a wine cellar then dealing in intergalactic genocide. All in all, a neon sign with the inscription "flamboyant jackass" would have summarized this alien's demeanor nicely.

However, the lackeys were truly uninteresting in comparison to their landlord. In the middle of the room, orbiting in some kind of floating throne, sat their master. His head and shoulder were facing away from the saiyans, aloofly staring off into the vast chasm of space while casually tasting a glass of red wine. Although their rulers back was turn, neither saiyan was inept to the fact that Frieza was aware of their presence.

`So this is Frieza? I thought he'd be taller,' thought Gohan, surprised at how puny Frieza was. His throne really wasn't that big, maybe five feet at the absolute tallest. The mere fact that Frieza wasn't even that tall made Gohan feel a little less intimidated.

Unfortunately Frieza's size was about the only thing that didn't seem frightening. His very essence was pure black; the definition of malice itself. It was all encompassing and practically suffocated the air like a toxic miasma. Nobody could even hope to top it. Vegeta? Please, his evil may have well been frolicking in the meadow picking dandelions. That was how bad Frieza was.

A swirling sound broke Gohan out of his subconscious reverie, his head reorienting him to his surroundings. Frieza had been twirling his wine saucer incessantly, letting the red liquid spin obnoxiously within the glass.

"That was a delightful vintage Zarbon! Very exquisite taste! Do find the planet it was produced on and kill all the inhabitants but the owners of the winery. Such quality ought to be in my complete control," ordered Frieza, after having taking the last swig of his wine.

The ditzy green alien bowed to his lord, getting on one knee and staring at the ground. "As you wish, sir," he responded, while getting off the floor and heading towards the door.

"Splendid. Oh, before you go, I need you to take my glass. It's awfully empty," replied Frieza, holding his bare saucer in Zarbon's direction.

"As you wish, sir," reiterated Zarbon, walking up to Frieza's throne and gently pried the glass from the tyrant's hand. His task completed the flamboyant alien exited stage left out of the audience chamber, only to return in the next few minutes.

Gohan watched the interaction between Zarbon and Frieza with great interest. The more he heard Frieza talk, the more he wanted to blast a hole straight through his rotten soul. He talked of slaughter in such mundane terms; he was willing to commit genocide for a simple glass of wine. `Wh-what kah-kind of mon…ster am I di-dealing with?' the boy stuttered in his thoughts, cursing Vegeta more and more for putting him in this predicament.

Suddenly, Frieza's floating throne started to rotate on its invisible axis, spinning in the direction of the saiyans. Soon enough, Frieza's biological form came into view. It was…a horrifyingly unique site to the saiyan child. He looked like an anthromorphic lizard with pale pink skin and a purple chest guard.

The most intricate part of Frieza's appearance was his head, which vaguely resembled a bicycle helmet. Two razor sharp horns protruded laterally from the top of his temples and were fastened into his skull close to a dark purple gemstone that composed of most of his forehead. At face level, he had a box-like thing where his ears should be and his cheeks were half pink with horizontal stripes of black and the other half snow white; his eyes also gleamed with a magenta hue.

"Report," Frieza commanded with a sharp edge of authority. Gohan could decipher two things from Frieza's simple order: One, his voice was intolerably shrill. If the tyrant sang opera, he would probably shatter anything made of glass within one-hundred miles of his performance. Two, his tone was practically icy in coldness. Irony aside, the tyrant could probably deep freeze an iceberg with his voice alone. That was how cold the lizard's tone was.

Abruptly, Gohan felt himself being slammed down into a kneeling position, courtesy of an irate Vegeta. Equally as abrupt as the push, Vegeta's voice started to penetrate Gohan's mind frenziedly.

`Dolt stay there. Don't make me have to push you down again in front of him,' the enigmatic prince practically screamed. Rage was coursing through the prince's veins, but Gohan could sense it was aimed at Frieza moreso than him. Gohan could also feel…humiliation intermixed with the fury, which was not so surprisingly considering Vegeta's all-to-apparent pride.

"Lord Frieza, me and Raditz have done as you've requested. We've successfully purged Meteora within the two weeks you've allotted to us," Vegeta answered begrudgingly. His voice may've been steady and his stature may've been completely obedient, but his tone definitely needed a little work.

Frieza chose to ignore the tone that broke through Vegeta voice this one time; it wasn't like mattered in the long run. "Excellent. Such efficiency! There's no wonder I hired such capable monkeys!" the tyrant cackled, smiling maliciously at the unintentional growl that escaped Vegeta's throat. It was clear to each of them that Frieza's words were empty praise. Mind games and nothing more.

Frieza's eyes wandered away from Vegeta and towards the brat kneeling adjacent to him. The kid was nowhere near as composed as the prince, and it showed. Through the kid's indignation, the tyrant saw an opportunity for another torture session. "Oh Vegeta, I almost forgot. You did say that you would need another saiyan for this purge, but you never said this saiyan would be this cute. I never knew your standards for your cadets were so low?"

"Sire, unexpected complications have arisen from the mission that made the boy a more opportune acquisition than his father. Raditz's even confirmed this himself. He could be a very useful ally Frieza, given the right upbringing," answered Vegeta. Gohan knew this must be killing the proud saiyan. The boy could practically smell Vegeta's loathing for having to grovel to Frieza's every whim.

"Oh, speaking of that, where are your other lackeys? I don't see them with you," retorted Frieza, curious about Vegeta's reaction to this question.

"Raditz is scoping out the ruins of Argos to see if the locals have been disposed of yet. As for Nappa, he's dead," replied Vegeta, some of his bone deep ire starting to come to the surface. Of course, Frieza picked up on this almost before Vegeta did.

"Aw, I see; my deepest most heartfelt condolences to your ally, Vegeta. He was a good soldier, but you wouldn't know it by how you talked of him. What was it again? Oaf? Dolt? Pathetic? If you don't shut up right now, I'll send you to oblivion for good? I think that's what you said. Oh well, at least you won't miss him." Throughout his entire speech, Vegeta could practically see Frieza's obnoxious smirk get wider. Unfortunately, Vegeta could find no retort to his tormentor's accusations.

"Raditz will return soon, and you'll be able to interrogate him on the details about Argos. As for Nappa, I'd rather not comment," mutely responded the saiyan prince, for fear he'd completely lose it. Every single one of Frieza's comments were completely out of line, and it took everything Vegeta had not to try to blow a hole through his rancid soul.

"Fair enough. As for Raditz, I'm sure he'll find nothing. I'm sure that…Kakarot fellow did murder the entire planet of Argos, as you speculated he would in your plans. After all, he is a primate. That's all he's—"

"Will you ever shut up?" belted out Gohan, beyond the point of being able to control himself. This bully could make light of him? Make light of the horror he had been forced to experience? But insulting his father was drawing a line in the sand.

"What do you know about my daddy? He's a hero, he cares for everybody! He wouldn't even dream of killing anybody, even a people who deserves it like you! You're a monster; you kill people for even the most stupid reasons. Is there anything in your head that tells you that this is wrong?" Gohan paused to catch his breath and collect himself, giving himself a breather after launching that scathing diatribe.

In that short intermission, Vegeta broke into Gohan's mind using the mental link that they developed. It was easy to tell that he was far from pleased. `Kid, you have no idea what you've just done, did you? You've just given him a reason to beat you until you're black-and-blue!'

Regrettably, the time to recant or escape had long since pasted. Both saiyans heard a locking sound directly behind them, and turned their heads around. Standing in the middle of the doorway was Frieza, coyly smirking at the two disobedient cretins. "Aw, I think it's time for my show of terror to commence. I do hope you enjoy the show; wowing captive audiences is my specialty."

Goku careened back into Earth's orbit, feeling completely defeated for the first time in his life. His son wasn't on Argos, and neither were the saiyans. It was a complete dead-end and so were his chances of his son ever being back in his arms. What was he supposed to do? Search every corner of every galaxy in the known universe looking for just one boy? Even he wasn't so dense to gander that his son was probably lost forever. It was time just to settle down and move on with the rest of his life.

His ki pod landed smoothly into a dense forest just south of Kami's lookout on the far west end of Earth. He listlessly pulled himself out of the cramped fuselage of the pod and morosely floated into the sky for his long flight home.

His flight was a quiet one. The air current wasn't very brisk nor was it very abrasive, which was ironically bad today. He couldn't keep his distraught wife out of his mind; what would she say about Gohan's kidnapping. `How am I going ever going to be able to explain what just happened?' he reflecting, sighing despondently. Her reaction was probably going to explosive. She'd probably bawl and scream into his arms, beseeching him to go out and find her son.

`What have I been thinking? Giving up? That's not like me. Come on, get focused. You are going to get your son back. Just have some faith?' chastised his mind, for his temporary lack of faith in himself.

Too swiftly in Goku's mind, he saw the distant peak of Mt Paozu loom over the horizon. He started to descend down through the forest to the sequestered clearing where his modest home was located. The Son family home was the very picture of tranquility, as it blended in with the natural landscape in perfect harmony. The gentle stream of smoke wavering from the chimney just added to the place's quaintness.

Quietly, Goku walked into the kitchen of the house wondering where his wife was. "Hey Chi Chi, where are you?" he screamed out, hoping his wife would hear him from some obscure part of the house. No voice responded to his from anywhere, adding to his moderate level of concern.

The saiyan started to wander throughout his house, looking in every likely place his lovely wife could be. The laundry room, the bathroom, Gohan's bedroom, their bedroom and even the common rooms, they were all empty and without Chi Chi.

`Oh wait a minute, shouldn't I just sense her. I can sense ki remember?' he somewhat scolded himself. He couldn't believe he forgot something like that.

Goku closed his eyes and began to triangulate Chi Chi's ki signature, looking for her individual spirit. Nothing was there, not even a faint trace of her essence. Expectedly, this concerned Goku greatly.

He started to trace every other signature he knew; maybe hers was so faint he couldn't recognize it. He tried Krillin and got no results. He tried Tien and got no results. He tried Yamcha and got no results. He tried Master Roshi and—you know what, you get the idea.

Unexpectedly, he started feeling a familiar ki. What made this unexpected? It was Mrs. Briefs: Bulma's mother. `I wonder what's going on at the Brief Family. Mrs. Brief is rarely alone,' pondered Goku, not really understanding why Mrs. Briefs was the only person he knew that giving off a ki signature.

The anxious saiyan blasted off towards West City, sailing swiftly through the air. His heart was practically skipping a beat during the flight; he could just tell something was seriously wrong, and only Mrs. Brief would be able to tell him what it was. By then, the normally goofy saiyan's demeanor had been stripped to an unusual level of seriousness that the situation demanded.

Before he even knew it, Goku was already floating above the vast metropolis that was West City. A quick cursory scan of his surrounding pinpointed the distinctive dome of Capsule Corporation among all the other high-rises. After having found his target, our hero rushed towards the superstructure, praying that Mrs. Brief could help him.

The Earth-raised saiyan quickly descended onto the grassy field that was encapsulated by the Capsule Corp estate, keeping his eyes out for the abnormally cheery women. Swiftly, his nose sniffed out something that would make his bones chill: Blood. A trail of blood.

Goku followed the trail of blood away from the field and towards the house. Once he reached the patio the trail of blood ended concurrently with the revelation of Mrs. Brief's disheveled form.

The clueless woman was in very bad shape. Somebody had easily sliced through the flesh of her abdomen and perforated her liver and pancreas; probably did some small intestinal damage as well. Needless to say, medical supervision had not been contacted and she was left to die laying supine on her own patio.

Without even thinking, Goku started to kneel over her dying form and tried to jostle her awake. He needed to know how this happened to her. Who did it? Why now? Where was Bulma? Where was her husband?

Slowly and agonizingly, the clueless blonde slowly woke up and moaned pitiably. Nevertheless with her injuries, even waking up from her egregious injuries was a medical miracle. She tried to smile at the distraught saiyan, but the pain was too much.

"Mrs. Briefs? Thank god you're alive! Who did this to you? Where is your husband? Where is Bulma" shouted Goku in one single breath. Clearly, he was slowly feeling panic set in.

"He…took…Bulma. Killed…mah…husband," coughed out Mrs. Brief, feeling herself get drowsier by the minute. "Took…her…tah…Kame…ho—"

The normal delusional women suddenly faded back into unconsciousness, but this time she wouldn't be able to get back up. The dwindling candle that was her life had been snuffed out, just a burnt wick remained.

Goku eyed her dead form, feeling a few tears escape from his eye lids. This wasn't his first brush up with death, but he was already emotionally strained from failing Gohan to be able to put up with this shit. He was going to find the monsters that did this and put them in their place.

`But where would this monster be?' wondered Goku, who had a hard time hearing Mrs. Brief over his own feelings when she was dying. `Was it…Kame…ho—that's it. Kame's House. That's what she said. I hope this person hasn't gotten to Master Roshi and Krillin yet?'

The Earth-raised saiyan swiftly took flight again, racing as fast as he could towards Master Roshi's house. His sense of urgency had grown exponentially since he saw Mrs. Brief die right in front of him. He didn't know if the others were in the same predicament or if he dawdled in any way they'd be killed. So he flew rapidly through the air, like a careening missile. Through the forests, the plains, the rocky deserts and finally the salty sea that Master Roshi's abode was surrounded by.

From the air, the small island that Roshi lived on wasn't any different than it normally was. The small pink house stretched over the horizon, barely visible in the dusk setting. Cautiously, the palm-tree haired saiyan dropped down onto the silkily soft sand of the beach.

And the site he was greeted by would forever scar his memories.

The island was no longer a home for anybody. Not Roshi, not the turtle nor Krillin. Instead, it looked to be a makeshift requiem. There were at least half-a-dozen souls that were brutally murdered on the island, and Goku knew every single one of them.

On the top of the house—at the highest point as a matter of fact—layed the severed head of Tien; his body was nowhere to be found. The three-eyed warrior had clearly been decapitated and his third eye had been pried out of his skull. By the shocked and defeated expression on the corpse's face, it was clear that Tien had been bested in battle before he was killed.

Goku's eyes started to drift down from Tien's severed head to the dead body of his next friend: Bulma. The blue-haired genius was dangling helplessly upside-down from the roof of the house, and died from the resulting brain aneurism.

Closer still to Goku's position was the mutilated remains of Krillin and Yamcha. Both of them were executed in the same horrific fashion, with Yamcha on the left and Krillin on the right. Apparently, somebody though it was good idea to shove a spear through their groin and have it come out diagonally through their shoulders. Overall, it was an execution strategy that would be given the Vladimir the Impaler seal of approval.

The owner of the Kame House had been subjected to the goriest demise. The lecherous old man was still on his lawn chair with a porn magazine covering his face. From the chest up, the master martial artist was his usual self; from the chest down, well look up the term "disemboweled" in the dictionary. That adequately explained what happened to the old man.

As for the butt munches—who were known as Chiaotzu, Oolong and Puar. They just got bludgeoned to death and thrown into a nameless sand pit on the far end of the island. Their decaying remains were still there for all to see.

Goku looked on at this carnage with disbelief; his face was turning into a sickly shade of green just by viewing it. He started to press the bridge of his nose, trying to prevent himself from vomiting. This was all just too much for the peaceful saiyan to handle.

"Goku. Please help me," whimpered a voice, one of which Goku could recognize from anywhere. `Oh please, don't let it be her,' Goku cried out in his head, praying that what he was hearing wasn't true.

Unfortunately that voice wasn't a figment of his imagination nor could he have mistaken it for anybody else. It sang too deep in his heart for him to forget again. He could just faintly see her silhouette on top of the Kami House, shadowed by the last embers of a dying sun.

His eyes began to dilate, stripping away the glare and shadows that marred her perfect form. In a flush of color, the women came into view for all to see. Goku's wife and muse, the Princess of the Ox-Kingdom: Son Chi Chi.

The heiress was clearly petrified. She wasn't blind; the meaning of Tien's severed head just below her feet and the gored remains of all the others hadn't been lost on her. But she remained glued to her spot, refusing to move in any direction. Goku just didn't know why.

Seeing Chi Chi hitched to the roof of Kame House made Goku's heart skip a least two beats. This was both very good and very bad. Very good in the essence that she was alive, unlike everybody else he knew, but very bad because she was probably kept alive so she could be killed in front of his eyes. Nevertheless, this foe was a fool to think that he wouldn't try to rescue her.

Goku started to crouch, preparing to lunge onto the roof and retrieve his wife. After he had pushed off and was in mid-air, a long arm clasped onto his ankle and threw the anxious saiyan through the anterior wall of the Kame House.

Our hero quickly broke himself out of the broken pilings and two-by-fours back to where he once stood. He turned himself around to scout out who had done that, and his eyes froze at what he saw.

It was Piccolo. The green devil was standing on top of the roof with his wife just below him, who was crying profusely because of the undesired contact. `So it was you all along,' thought Goku, who really shouldn't have been as surprised by this turn of events as he should have been. Who else could this have come from? There were only two people capable of killing Tienshinhan: himself and Piccolo, and only Piccolo was on Earth or had the motivation to do so.

"Hello Goku, welcome home," articulated Piccolo, who was obviously sardonic in denoting what "welcome" really meant.

"Piccolo, stop this!" belted out Goku, the distress in his voice being just as obvious as Piccolo's sardonic tone. "We don't need to be doing this! Just please stop Piccolo."

The aforementioned green demon started to gruffly guffaw at what Goku was saying; it was just too much like Son. Almost too quickly, Piccolo ceased his boisterous laugh in favor of just smirking maliciously at his prey. "Stop this, Goku? I didn't go to the trouble of killing off all your friends to just release your wife at the end. What kind of fool do you take me for?"

Goku was too panicked to reply to Piccolo's barb. He would do almost anything to save Chi Chi and revive the others. He had failed them in every way possible by letting Piccolo do this too them. But how could he possibly atone for his mistakes when his wife was still being strung up by that monster.

"You're a failure, Goku!" roared Piccolo, devoid of any hint of sanity by the treble cleft his voice ascended too. "You've protected nothing. Not your son, not your wife, not you planet and most certainly not your friends and allies. Everybody is going to die today Goku, and it will be your fault!"

In the inner recesses of his mind, a surge of pride and anger raced to the forefront. It didn't matter that Piccolo was right or that he had truly failed the people he cared for. What did matter was that the person who was calling him out had no right to do so.

"What do you mean that it will be my fault, Piccolo? I'm not killing people or threating anybody's life. Why would I be at fault when it was you who would have decided to go on a killing spree?" answered Goku, that undercurrent of anger starting to break through the surface.

"Because you did nothing to stop me," responded Piccolo, his grin becoming wider by the minute. "You have had every chance to kill me, to stop any of this from happening in the first place. Krillin, Bulma, Tien and Yamcha, they all begged you to put me out of my misery, to silence me once and for all. It's a shame that they didn't have the power to really make that call, now isn't it?"

"So now it's a crime to see the light inside somebody. You weren't your father, you didn't have to make the same choices that he did," responded Goku, shaking in an unearthly rage. He had never felt this angry or confused. Not even when Tambourine had killed Krillin had he felt even remotely like this.

"I always thought you were an idiot Goku, but even I can't fathom the stupidity of that," chuckled Piccolo mirthlessly, his smirk remarkably having never left his face. "You thought I could change? That's rich Goku, very rich! I'm the Demon King Piccolo. I'm not the son of King Piccolo, I'm his reincarnation. We have been and always will be the same spirit, we are the same pure evil spirit!"

The demon king paused to take a breath and surveyed Goku's eyes, trying to gleam what he was thinking at that moment. Whatever he subconsciously gathered, it apparently wasn't enough for the green devil by the snarl that graced his lip. He slowly started to push Chi Chi closer to the edge of the house.

Goku tensed up, his eyes locking onto the sight of Piccolo pushing Chi Chi to the very precipice of the wooden cliff. "What are you doing, Piccolo?" Goku practically growled, his patience wearing very thin.

"What am I doing, Goku? Well, I'm doing you a favor. I'm going to silence any doubt about who I am," replied Piccolo, slowly pushing the upset heiress as close to the vertical abyss as realistically possible.

"Naivety, Son. That is why you've fallen from grace," finished Piccolo, pushing Chi Chi off the roof of the house.

Neither Goku nor Chi Chi were stupid enough to think that the Ox Princess would die or even get slightly injured from such a small fall. Maybe most people would be hurt by such a drop, but most people didn't have the fighting pedigree Chi Chi did. But why would Piccolo just push her off the roof? He ought to have known that she would easily survive?

Of course, Piccolo was also aware of this. It was all a ruse; to make Son think he would actually get to see his wife alive again. Unlike Son, he wasn't stupid enough to actually let her hit the ground safely. This was going to be the end of the line.

In the flash of an eye, a long string of ki was sent forth by Piccolo, racing towards Chi Chi before she could hit land. At the last possible second, it traced its way around her neck forming an iron-clad noose. With no slack in the line whatsoever, Chi Chi's neck was violently jerked upwards with a sickening crunch. And there she hung, dead and limp.

Sighing contently from a job well done, Piccolo released his hold on the vice grip around Chi Chi's neck, letting the dead women drop to ground in a heap. "There you have it, Goku. You have nobody left."

Goku's face was a pallid white, stunned at how quickly circumstances had changed in less than a minute. He wasn't anywhere near ready to accept the death of his wife so soon after their marriage, especially so now that it was coupled with the death of everybody else he loved. The smirk that shone through Piccolo's countenance did nothing but sicken the distraught saiyan; he wanted to rip that smile right off his face.

Why was it that all his enemies abused his merciful nature? First Emperor Pilaf, then the Red Ribbon Army and now his mortal enemy Piccolo. He tried to be a good person, to give everybody a second chance to redeem themselves. And each time he was greeted with backstabbing and betrayal. Would all his enemies be unwilling to repent for their actions?

Unbeknownst to Goku, his internal conflict was having external ramifications. All throughout the island, fine specks of sand were being uprooted from the beach and were rising through the air. The earth was starting to shake and rattle the Kame House, and under Goku's feet the earth was actually cracking and buckling under the tremendous force Goku was exerting.

The enraged saiyan could hardly notice any of these not-so-subtle changes. All he cared about was the amused leer that stayed plastered on his rival's face. It made him angrier, and for some reason that's all he wanted to be: angry, livid even.

Our hero could no longer hide his grief or his anger any longer. With a scream, he shot his power forth like a destructive wave, which barreled through the Kame House like it was made of cardboard, ripping apart any loose fragments of wood and nails and destabilizing the entire house.

At the same moment, Goku's newly acquired bright orange aura sprung forth from the debilitating level of anger coursing through his veins. The furious saiyan felt his skin start to jaundice and his hair start to glow. Instinctively, he felt himself start to transform again.

This time around the pain wasn't nearly so intense, at least physically. His body was more accustomed to the peaks and valleys of the transformation than when he originally experienced it.

It wasn't much longer until another rush of power surged through him, signaling the end of the transformation. Inevitably, another surge in strength meant another destructive wave barreled through the Kame House, which collapsed under the strain this time around.

Piccolo looked on in abject surprise at Goku's radical new look. He knew that Goku would be one heck of a challenge once sufficiently goaded, but he never saw something like this coming. Yellowed skin, orange hair that resembled fire or the bloodlust that gleamed in his eyes; it was all something completely unexpected for the demon king.

"What are you?" asked Piccolo, expressing his confusion in the most simple of terms. He was still very much stunned.

"What am I?" replied the new Goku, his face contorting into a completely uncharacteristic sneer. "I'm the dark that exists in the light! A fighting power that erodes instead of empowers! I'm the end; the death of a dream. Most importantly, I am your reckoning!"

Thanks to all who got through this latest installment of Cognitive Dissonance. It was a pleasure to write, and I hope it was a pleasure to read and review (hopefully you do so on that last part).

Review Replies:

Goku Rules 98: Thanks for the kind words! Yes, I do admit that Gohan was a bit slighted in Deluge, but there is one thing I'd like to point out: once this story gets really moving, there will be so many characters with so many points of view that somebody will be slighted in every chapter. In Deluge that character was Gohan.

Ky 111: Thanks for the support! The penultimate kaioken will get more screen time in the chapters to come, and we all will learn more about its physical and psychological impact on Goku. As for the resistance, well Baden will talk more about that in the chapters to come.

Kaiser Night: Thanks for the encouragement! I hope you find the progression in Gohan and Raditz's respective personalities to be to your optimum pleasure.

Lucifvegeta: Thanks for the wonderful superlatives about my writing ability. It flatters me to no end. Remember though, I'm actually only a year older than you and I think I can help your writing as well. I think with the right guidance, your story could be improved immensely as well!

Important Narrative Announcements:

I hope that all of you didn't lose your lunch at how I described the corpse's of all the remaining Z Fighters. However, this is the time in the story were the M-rating really comes into effect. Starting next chapter, we will see a lot of...unsavory description and narratives and I will tell by word count were they will be.

That's all for now! Remember to review though, it does provide an extra incentive to work even harder on the story than I normally do, which means more updates.