Soundtrack: "Last Man Standing" by Hybrid

"The rules have now changed."

Gohan looked at Ahriman, startled. The Demon King continued to stare back at him impassively.

"To what?" He was, he admitted to himself, wary of this new declaration. Thinking back to the contract he'd signed, however, Gohan recalled that it had only specified that he would be fighting, and that his power level would be lowered to match his opponents'. There had been nothing whatsoever about the tournament rules—or whether they would be subject to change.

"From here on out, your rounds will be timed, but you will continue to fight against the same opponent until there is a clear winner. The end of each round will be accompanied by a power boost for both competitors, up until the highest potential of the weaker is reached."

Gohan nodded. "Anything else?"

"There will be no ring." Ahriman waved his hand.

With that, the drab landscape of Hell immediately disappeared.

Gohan gasped in pain, water streaming from his eyes at the sudden influx of bright sunlight. He clapped both hands over his face, hoping to give himself a chance to adjust more slowly after so much time in the dark.

If this was an illusion, Gohan thought as he slowly parted his fingers, it was a very complete one. Quite aside from the assault on his eyes, he could feel hot sunlight pounding on the back of his neck and soaking through the folds of his gi. Squinting through his fingers, he could see that the landscape was the only thing that had changed: Piccolo was still beside him, Ahriman still looked down on him from his throne, and the spectators were now scattering to whatever high vantage points they could find among the rock pillars which now dotted the land beneath the wide green sky.

Green…?

Slowly, he forced his fingers apart, and gasped at the familiarity of the landscape that now surrounded him.

He was on Namek.

Forgetting himself for a moment, he looked around in awe. The illusion was perfect, right down to the positions of the suns in the sky and the scent of the blue grass as it bent beneath his feet. The landscape was beautiful, and just as peaceful and serene as it had been when he had first landed—more so, in fact, since there were none of Frieza's henchmen waiting to jump out at him.

That thought, however, brought him immediately back to reality: illusion or no illusion, he was going to have to fight, and he had better be ready. Gohan admittedly didn't know for sure who his next opponent would be, but he was smart enough that he had begun to see the pattern. He had fought first Radditz, then Nappa, before finally reaching his showdown with Vegeta—in other words, every current or former villain who had threatened the Earth since he was born, in chronological order. If Gohan's theory was correct, then he had a few guesses as to who he would be fighting next.

Let's see, he thought. If I'm on Namek, that probably means that I'll be fighting someone I met there. We ran into a few of Frieza's henchmen right away—I never did learn their names. Will I be up against any of them…? No. I think that they're too weak for this tournament. He thought back to the others who had constantly hassled him and Krillin in their search for the Namekian Dragon Balls. How about Zarbon? Or that pink spiky guy, the one who nearly killed Dende? Gohan's fists clenched at the memory. Then there's the Ginyus… He'd already gone against Guldo and Recoome in life, and he and Krillin had nearly died in both of those fights. And then there was Ginyu himself, who had, in a way, forced him into a deathmatch against his own father.

"I demand to know what is happening! Where are you taking me?"

…or maybe, just maybe, it would be Frieza himself.

Though he honestly couldn't say at this point that Frieza's presence was unexpected, Gohan was nevertheless met with one surprise when his opponent was led into his sight: the former tyrant was now in his base form.

I guess he really did mean it when he said we would both be getting boosts. Reaching out with his senses, Gohan found that Frieza's power was much less massive than it had been when he had fought against his father. And even though it started to rise as soon as he was released, Frieza did not initiate any of his metamorphoses. He must not yet be able to transform.

Frieza was struggling and twisting in his captors' grip, just as Nappa had been. When he laid eyes on Gohan, however, he immediately relaxed. "Oh, I see." Cautiously, his captors released their grip on him as his bonds disappeared. "Another monkey."

Gohan didn't move or respond. He already knew full well what Frieza thought of his race.

They faced off against each other, Frieza's tail lashing agitatedly back and forth. Neither one of them initiated battle, each waiting to see what the other would do.

"Well?" Frieza had halted his fidgeting, standing straight with his feet together and his hands clasped behind his back. Obviously he did not think much of Gohan's ability in spite of their artificially equal power levels.

"I'm ready whenever you are." Gohan dropped into a fighting stance.

Still, they both waited, neither one of them giving the other an opening by initiating the attack.

Then, Frieza took a step. Gohan mirrored him, turning his body to present the smallest possible target. In response, Frieza stepped to his side once again.

And on they went, circling each other, each waiting for the other to make the first move. This was the first match Gohan had fought where his opponent didn't jump right into the fight. As a matter of fact, now that he thought about it, this was the first match where he wasn't up against another Saiyan.

Gohan would have to be careful in this one. Frieza wasn't like Radditz or Nappa, or even like Vegeta. He was ruthless, and he wouldn't drag out the fight to make it more interesting unless he was sure he had the upper hand.

They took another step in their endless circle, Frieza's tail lashing agitatedly from side to side.

"Well what are you waiting for?" someone yelled from the audience. "Get on with it already!"

It wasn't much—but it was enough to push them over the knife-edge on which they were standing. Both leaped forward with a yell.

As Piccolo watched Gohan battle Frieza, a small part of Nail bristled within him at the sight of the tyrant.

This is the bastard that wiped out our entire race.

Piccolo gave a mental nod. He knew, of course, thanks to the memories of the other Namekian with whom he had merged. The purpose of that fusion had been for him to avenge their race.

He had not been able to, of course. No, it was a Saiyan, just as it had always been a Saiyan—and it was Goku, just as it had always been Goku. Piccolo had fought, trained, fused, done everything in his power to make himself stronger, all for the sake of Gohan, yet it had never been enough.

He had been surpassed. Again and again, he had fallen behind—behind Goku, once his equal… behind Gohan, once his student… behind Goten and Trunks, before he had even taught them… The worst thing, he thought, was that his strength, his ability to defend the Earth and protect those he cared about, always seemed to be in inverse to his willingness to do so. He had not been able to earn a place in heaven, and now the boy he had once sworn to protect was fighting for his soul while Piccolo could do nothing but watch.

He had done nothing…

…and he could do nothing more.

Gohan threw a knifehand at Frieza's neck—but suddenly, Frieza wasn't there anymore. Gohan barely had time to register where his opponent was—behind him—before pain exploded in his back and he was sent crashing into the nearest rock outcropping. The entire structure fell to pieces around him, those spectators who had chosen it as their perch taking off with cries of alarm; those without the gift of flight scrambled hastily away as soon as they hit the ground, leaving those trapped or injured to the mercy of the battle.

Looking up, Gohan saw that Frieza was coming at him full speed, his hand drawn back as energy gathered in his palm. Swiftly gathering his legs beneath him, Gohan sprang into the air just as the attack collided with the spot where he had been a split second ago. The entire pile of rocks immediately exploded into ash, accompanied by a chorus of agonized screams that were abruptly cut short.

In spite of his disdain for the native audience, Gohan felt his anger rising. Were the spectators afforded no protection at all?

Gohan narrowed his eyes in Frieza's direction. The evil tyrant, he noted, was smirking.

"That," he forced out from between gritted teeth, "was unnecessary."

"So what are you going to do about it?" Frieza's smirk widened. "Make me pay?"

In answer, Gohan launched himself downwards.

They met in a furious whirlwind of fists, their clash a flailing ball of limbs in the midst of the green sky. "Why are you doing this, Frieza?" Gohan shouted, dodging as the other's fists rushed past his face. He'd already asked the same question of Radditz, true, but the fact that none of the evil criminals, bullies, or tyrants he'd faced had been able or willing to answer this question only served to further stoke his fury. "Why is it that others' suffering is so appealing to you?" Swatting Frieza's hand to the side, he launched forward with a kick of his own.

"Why is it that you have such an impetus to interfere in my affairs?" Frieza countered, dodging Gohan's blows in turn. "What was it to you, or those simpleton villagers, whether I was granted one simple wish?" He aimed a double-fisted blow at Gohan's abdomen, an attack which the half-Saiyan only just managed to block. "What were you even doing on Namek anyway?"

"None—of your business!" Gohan, who still held Frieza's fists within his grasp, threw the tyrant away from him with all of his might. Frieza hit the ground hard, his feet digging trenches in the fertile soil, ripping up hunks of the delicate blue grass in his wake.

Not wanting to give Frieza any time to recuperate, Gohan dove down after him, gathering ki as he did so. He did not want to fire ranged blasts for fear of harming the audience, but that would not be a concern if he just made sure that Frieza was unable to dodge.

Frieza, however, saw it coming. His countering blast clashed against Gohan's, throwing them forcefully away from each other. Gohan landed in a crouch next to a rock outcropping, Frieza on his feet at the edge of a lake.

For a split second, they stared at each other. Then, both rushed forward at once.

"Not my business, you say?" Frieza demanded as they pushed against each other, clashing at the exact midpoint between their previous positions. "I would have been immortal and ruling the galaxy now, if not for you!"

"Why did you want that so badly?" Gohan retorted. "Why is it that people like you never think of anything but your own gain?"

"What advantage do you have fighting solely for others?" Frieza, apparently growing bored with their stalemate, spun backwards, lashing out with his tail. Gohan jumped over the appendage, letting his momentum carry him into a backwards handspring that took him several feet away from his opponent. "What have you ever gotten out of any of this?" Frieza lunged at him again, his fist cocked back.

"I'm not the one who's languishing down here for the rest of eternity!" Gohan swatted Frieza's knifehand to the side, retaliating with an elbow strike of his own. Frieza bent to the side, and the strike hit empty air. "If you ever cared about anyone in your life, death wouldn't have been something to fear!" Not stopping his assault either verbal or physical, Gohan threw a high roundhouse at Frieza's head. Frieza's hand went up in time to block it, but only just. "Yet still you were willing to throw away everything that really mattered, all for your dream of immortality, and look where it ended! With the worst possible outcome!"

"Who are you to judge me, boy?" Frieza threw Gohan's leg away from him, and Gohan was thrown off-balance for a split second—but that split second was crucial. Frieza used the opening to launch himself forward, his fist catching Gohan right in the diaphragm. He doubled over, wheezing, an aching emptiness now filling his midsection as his lungs struggled—and failed—to draw another breath.

"You talk of suffering needlessly?" Frieza continued, continuing to hold Gohan up with a single arm. Gohan, still trying to catch his breath, looked up; the fist that had struck him was now his only support. "Why is it that you righteous types continue to insist on failing to understand that, if only you give me what I want, your death will be quick and painless? If I am feeling particularly generous, I might even let you live. But no, you always have to make things difficult—power can only be used for a noble cause, you say. Putting oneself first isn't right, you say. Pah." He drew his hand back, and Gohan sank down to one knee. His breath was now coming easier, but he was far from fully recovered.

"Well who are you, to decide what's right and wrong?" Suddenly, he lunged once again at Gohan, who had been surreptitiously gathering ki in his hand. He was forced to leap backwards, his attack fizzling out as his concentration was broken. "How was it better to constantly resist than to allow me my goals and spare yourself some suffering?" He was now coming at Gohan with a flurry of punches and kicks, and Gohan could barely move his arms fast enough to block. If only his body would hurry up and recover…

"How would living under your rule have spared anyone suffering?" Gohan was still on the defensive, but he could breathe almost normally again, and his body was growing more responsive by the second. A forearm raised at the center of his body stopped Frieza's last punch cold. "Are you honestly saying you would have showed any of us mercy as the immortal ruler of the galaxy?" He lunged forward, driving his knee upward, catching the very surprised Frieza right under the chin. "Do you even know what mercy is?"

"Obstinate monkey!" Quickly shaking off the blow, Frieza phased to the side to avoid Gohan's next kick. "Natural selection killed your kind off millennia ago! Well, spout your ideals all you want, but don't think that there's anything you can say to make me take you seriously!"

"Fine! Have it your way!" Dodging Frieza's incoming fist, Gohan launched himself into the air, bringing his hands to his side. "Kamehameha!"

He had tried to be quick about it in the hopes of taking Frieza by surprise, and the tyrant was indeed caught off-guard by the attack—but not off-guard enough. He saw the wave coming just in time to leap backwards, and when the smoke cleared Gohan could see that he had nothing but a few minor singes.

Darn… I was really hoping to get him with that one. Frieza glared back up at him as he casually brushed the soot from his forearms.

At least Gohan had had the foresight to budget his energy. He gathered his strength to his core as Frieza pushed off from the ground, his hand beginning to glow…

"Time!"

Gohan stopped automatically when the end of the round was called, freezing in midair and allowing his gathered ki to dissipate. Unfortunately for him, however, Frieza did not like to play by the rules: no sooner had he lowered his guard than the energy attack Frieza has been charging exploded against his side, and such was the shock that he plummeted from the sky to come crashing down to the hard, unforgiving ground of Hell.

"I called time!" Shaking his head to clear it, Gohan looked up. The illusion of Namek had faded, and both ground and sky were back to their drab, cheerless gray. Ahriman was behind him and slightly to his right; he had actually risen from his throne, looking furious. In front of him and slightly higher up hovered Frieza, equally furious and fighting against some invisible force that held him back.

"That will be taken out of your hide later," Ahriman hissed, his voice cold with anger, "winner or not. Do not think you are immune to judgment, Frost Demon." With that, he snapped his fingers, and Frieza was moved, still struggling, to the foot of Jahi's throne. Seeming to forget about Frieza completely now that he had been dealt with, Ahriman turned to Gohan. "Your health?" he asked without preamble.

Pushing himself into a sitting position, Gohan looked down at his ribcage, where a very large burn mark showed through a rip in his gi top. The whole thing had happened so fast that it hadn't even started to hurt yet, but it looked quite nasty nevertheless. "I've been better," he confessed.

In response, Ahriman turned to nod at his Queen, who raised a hand and gave him back a little more of his ki. Gohan stood, still shaky from the unexpected assault, and made his way back to the foot of Ahriman's throne.

"You are still not to speak to each other," Ahriman warned, seeing what he was doing. "Until there is a clear winner, you are still in a match."

Gohan nodded unhappily; he couldn't say that he hadn't been expecting this, but he didn't have to like it either. Grimacing as the motion caused his gi to rub painfully against the damaged skin, he sank down onto the ground and assumed a meditative position. Behind him, he knew that Piccolo was doing the same.

Forcing his body to relax, Gohan sought a quiet place where he could quickly heal as he allowed all further thoughts to dissipate from his mind.

A/N: I really, truly apologize for the long wait. I know that I said that chapters would be longer in coming from here on out, but I honestly didn't think that it would be this long.

In explanation, this was one of those first-draft-was-complete-crap chapters that gave me a lot of trouble both on the initial writing and on the revision. It was, however, the last of the truly troublesome ones, so hopefully future updates will go somewhat more smoothly.

I'd also like to note that Frieza losing his cyborg modifications and reverting back to his lower forms is one of my major uses of artistic license. I'm sort of assuming that dead souls don't have the same limitations as living beings who still have their bodies. I do have my reasons for doing it this way, and I hope that's not a deal-breaker for anyone.