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AN: Alright, this is actually kinda important this time 'round. See, I went back and actually read this story, and I found that I am far from pleased with what I've written so far. I honestly thought that there weren't as many typos and spelling errors as there are, or that the story was more cohesive and understandable than it actually is and that the characters weren't so unlike their original selves.
This saddens me.
So, I am going to go back and edit, touch-up, or completely redo all of the chapters until they meet my ideal expectations. This means that I won't be posting any new chapters for quite some time for this story, as I will try and finish up all of the chapters before reposting them so that we're all pretty much at the same place as we left off.
However, I will not be doing this overhaul just yet. I will finish this arc first so that I can at least leave you at a place that is a reasonable break point. I also have another story planned that has a crossover into this one, and to do that I need it to be a certain level of progression. I will also be working on my other stories at the same time, so they won't all be placed in that icky, sicky, black hole of a classification that is known as 'ON HIATUS'; author-speak for "I've pretty much given up on this".
On a more positive side note: I started a profile on "Star Wars: The Old Republic", because I finally got my grubby hands on a laptop that could support online gaming. While on Korriban for the sith warrior's story, I was minding my own business when all of a sudden I spot a guy who has named his character "Thy' Raxas". I told him he had a cool name and he thanked me and moved on.
Sometimes, I really, really love this world we live in!
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This…this wasn't at all what they had been expecting.
Whatever monstrous nightmare which would have evolved from the already terrifying visage of the humanoid/insect hybrid were all debunked – by this female, who was built not unlike a brick wall on two legs, but female nonetheless.
Nobody spoke - mostly due to the fact that none of them knew quite what to say. Besides the obvious, the transformation also marked the failure of the Earth's defenders, leaving no doubt for them to cling to about whether or not they could subvert the destruction of their planet. Even now, completely at rest, Cell's power was numbingly vast and was shedding off of her like a waterfall; surrounding all of them and crushing in like a titanic serpent that was waiting patiently to consume them.
Malicious eyes sized them all up, taking the time to send a shudder of either disgust or fear arcing up their spines. It was a savory delight to her, far more rewarding than simply terrorizing the weaklings of the planet that she had formerly hunted for their essence.
"Now," she leisurely began, shifting her weight from foot to foot, "I'm sure that many of you have questions. Questions, I believe, that more or less go along the lines of 'oh god oh god, will you please show mercy?' Allow me to preempt these thoughts by saying, right here and now that, no, I will not be merciful, I will not spare any of you, and no I will not stop in my quest for ultimate perfection."
Cell stopped moving about and set a glacial cold stare on all of them, all mirth and playfulness vanished like smoke.
"And all of you will die for delaying my ascension as you have."
There wasn't a fizzle of her frame, or a dramatic 'whoosh' of displaced air; she was simply standing in front of Sixteen when she had been two dozen feet away not an instant before. A palm smashed into the tall android (though now they could all see that Cell had a few inches over him in this new form), shattering his armored vest and sending him shooting away to land in the ocean, a trench momentarily left carved into the water by his passage.
Yamcha, the one closest at hand, gaped with wide eyes as Cell next appeared in front of him. A single finger jabbed him in the shoulder, dislocating it and causing him to spin haphazardly to the ground with a delayed shriek of pain. Tien was next, with two broken kneecaps and a fractured jaw in a quarter the time it took to say it.
Krillin, immobile and shaking uncontrollably, looked up with terror filled eyes as the green demon turned his way and walked leisurely before stopping just short of him, absolutely towering over him like a mountain next to a hill.
"Well now, it seems that you're already out of this fight, little man." She leaned closer, causing him to stumble back involuntarily. Laughing at his state, Cell decided that she needn't bother finishing him off and left him there.
That left only Seventeen standing, and that was just what the newly minted female bio-droid desired of the situation. Practically sauntering his way, she let her needle-tipped tail bob around behind her, almost hypnotic in its movements.
The darker twin grimaced as he hunkered down in a defensive stance, still mostly paralyzed with shock and dread. He wanted to turn and run as far and as fast as he could go, further, if only it meant that he could escape this monster; but his body betrayed him, and he could no more escape than he could turn super saiyan.
"Aw, don't be so scared Seventeen; it's destiny that awaits you, of that you can be certain." Cell was grinning again, and it wasn't really a sight that looked good on her face. Her footsteps rang like thunderclaps in the near silence, the invariable countdown to desolation and Armageddon.
"I don't know what my destiny is, but it certainly doesn't involve being sucked up like a smoothie by a hideous monster like you!" Seventeen found both his voice and his defiance, taking a modicum of enjoyment from spitting in the face of death.
Cell actually seemed to take insult at this, face scrunching up with spurned anger. She apparently didn't take knocks against her looks very well. Perhaps a bit more of Eighteen lived on in the creature than he had thought, but he hadn't had much room for hope in the last few minutes.
"Just stand still and stop resisting; it's really quite annoying," Cell hissed, bringing her tail up over her shoulder to aim the tip at the last component of Gero's grand machinations, the fleshy end expanding with a gut wrenching squeal.
Seventeen tensed, readying himself for what was all too obviously pointless. The early morning sun was blotted out by the colossal form of the biodroid, casting him in preemptive shadow. The mottled green skin of the tail was gleaming with a dull luster, almost comparable to the flesh of a snake.
And, as though directly intending to break the momentary spell, a ball of sizzling white energy came out of nowhere and clobbered Cell in the back of the head. Staggering a few steps forward, she reached a hand back to feel the point of impact in stunned bewilderment, which only lasted a moment before sheer ire took its place and she spun around to try and spot the source of the projectile.
As the orb came back around for another hit, she snatched her arm out and grabbed it from the air, crushing it between her fingers into a burst of scattered light that dissipated with the wind. Glaring murderously, she looked around before noticing Yamcha standing atop a small incline a few dozen yards away, dislocated arm hanging limply by his side while the other had index and middle finger pointed outward, straight at Cell.
Caught in the act, the scar-faced fighter scowled at losing his Spirit Ball, taking an instinctive step back but not lowering his hand. Cell narrowed her eyes and a spark of energy lightened up in the irises, the only forewarning of the twin beams that were about to shoot out from them.
A buzz filed the air and increased in volume rapidly. Cell barely managed to jump to the side, the Destructo Disc sailing within scant inches of severing her arm off at the shoulder. Krillin now stood between her and Seventeen, having relocated the android further away while she was distracted, a look of furious determination disfiguring his otherwise round and genial face.
"Are you two really going to do this? Are you really craving death that much?" Cell practically snarled, hunching over as her baser instincts began to surface, began to yearn for bloodshed. The biodroid was at the end of her rope, all thanks to the meddling of these troublesome earthlings and their antiquated sense of duty and honor; an obstacle that no longer held any nostalgic appeal to it anymore. "If so, then I will readily oblige you!"
With another spurt of speed that left her momentarily undetectable, she closed the distance between herself and the more dangerous of the two remaining fighters, Krillin, and shot her pointed fingers out to spear him through the chest. However, even as a look of shocked surprise covered the dwarf human's countenance, his figure dissolved into nothingness and leaving her with no bloody body to gloat over.
The Afterimage had performed its task well, despite being made at the very last second by a Kaioken powered Krillin in haste, and left the parasitic monster standing in the open with her balance skewed. Hanging above the island, suspending himself to avoid further injuring his wounded legs, Tien had been waiting for just such an opening with hands held before his body, fingers twined to create a triangle.
"Tri-Beam!" His shout, though gruelingly painful with his jaw, had the desired effect of launching the massive wave of concussive energy that impacted like a tanker truck against their amalgamation opponent.
Cell was crushed into the earth, feeling the immense power behind the technique for a brief moment before it dissipated, leaving her free to react. Pushing away from the ground, she flipped once so as to be facing the triclops as she rushed toward him, fist pulled back to deliver one crippling blow before he could muster either the concentration or ki to launch another of his signature attacks.
Just before she could finish him, that same, damnable sphere of energy zipped up from nowhere and clobbered her under the chin, offsetting her flight just enough for Tien to frantically move away, hands never leaving the ready pose for the Tr-Beam. Cell swatted at the Spirit Ball, catching it with a backhanded swipe just before the same kienzan from earlier came screeching towards her, far too close for comfort.
Turning to try and find Krillin before his aim got any better, she was met instead by another blast of clear yellow energy against her back, causing her to plummet several feet and into the path of the arcing disc which finally scored a thin and shallow gauge along the her right forearm which she had lifted automatically to defend herself. Staring in open shock at the thin line of purple that crept from the wound for a brief pause, Cell clenched her fist in frustrated rage, grinding her teeth to suppress the howl of indignation that was threatening to tear out from between her lips.
No more playing around! These suicidal simpletons would get their wish for death granted all too soon; they deserved no better for daring to forestall her any more than they had already done!
Letting the better half of her restrained power surface in a rush of wind and transparent ki, Cell let herself bask in the feeling for a moment before turning hate filled eyes on those that opposed her. Let them see how much their little tricks worked now-
"-TIMES TWO!"
'Hm?'
She was given no further time for reflection as a ramped up Tri-Beam careened into her, packing a greater wallop than ever before. Sent into the ground like a stone from a sling, she was quick to stand back up and eye the triclops warily. How had he boosted his power so much from just a 2x increase? She was at a higher level and shouldn't have even been budged by it. But how…
Eyes widening, she whipped around and spotted the other two warriors, likewise aflame in the crimson auras of King Kai's technique, their strength augmented beyond their normal, mortal boundaries, hovering above her at different points of the island so that they had her covered from all sides.
"It wasn't Tien that said that," she muttered, perhaps fractionally alarmed at this development.
"No," Yamcha replied without prompting, "that was me!" Without making another gesture, a second Spirit Ball rose up from behind his shoulder and floated at the ready next to another one. Krillin had also upped his game, with a dual Destructo Disc waiting impatiently at his fingertips.
Tien, still trying to talk as little as possible, hadn't readily declared his multiplication level, but Cell could guess. And since he hadn't taken the measure of using the mUlti-Form Technique to create several points to fuire of Tr-Beams from, then she could only assume that he intended to concentrate all that added power into the ones he had now, boosting its strength and, most likely, the speed at which he could fire them at.
The sheer gravity of the situation finally hit Cell and, while still not wholly worried that they could actually harm her, a distinct unease settled into her stomach as she slid into the Turtle style fighting stance, keeping all of them in her sight.
"Well then, shall we begin?"
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Seventeen watched in stunned amazement as the Z-Fighters simultaneously engaged Cell in what looked to be the wildest and deadliest game of tag he had ever seen: the biodroid was perpetually caught between the three men, unable to fully counter, dodge, deflect or overpower any of their techniques without one of the others taking the opportunity to attack from behind.
Even combined, their strength didn't equal up to even half of what Cell was capable of, but their attacks were each dangerous enough that she couldn't risk neglecting to pay attention to any of them lest suffer a new cut, or a fresh bruise. They were relying on complete teamwork to keep her at bay, acting in synchronized tandem without any verbal communication occurring.
The male android was suitably speechless, having lost all of his words over the course of what had quickly become a nightmare of a day. He was actually hoping that he would wake up any minute and discover that Dr. Gero had been running through a simulation this whole time, even though that would mean returning to another world of pain and suffering, though not quite as acute as this one where his sister was gone.
He knew full well, as he suspected that they did, that the three could never hope o hold Cell off for very long, not after being injured as two of them were. So what could they hope to accomplish?
He was given his answer by way of a weak voice, coming from behind him towards the water. Forcibly turning away from the spectacle that was taking place, Seventeen was both shocked and relieved, though he quashed that, to see Trunks had finally regained consciousness and was weakly looking up at him from where he lay in the surf. Moving and crouching down by his side, Seventeen gave the half-breed a questioning look.
"You need…to run Seventeen…now!" A shaking hand came up and clenched the front of the android's black T-shirt with whatever resolve was left in his drained body.
Seventeen angrily pulled the hand away and rose back to his feet. "You've done nothing but dictate my fate since you got here: first you wanted to kill us, then you wanted our help, and now you're telling me to just tuck tail and run away while that monster," he gestured at the explosive melee that still managed to waylay the biodroid, "gets away with swallowing my sister! Do you honestly just expect me to go and hide somewhere? What the hell would that accomplish?! There isn't anyone who can fight her Cell now and we're all going to die anyway, so why delay the inevitable?"
"We can still…" was all Trunks managed to utter before another fit of coughing brought more blood up onto his lips and chin, a clear indication of internal bleeding. Trying again, he drew in a breath, "We aren't beaten yet. But if Cell manages to absorb you too, then there really will be nothing that can…that can stop her."
Seventeen froze. He had forgotten that he was meant to share the fate of his sibling, rather than the quickness of death by explosion. For half a panicked moment, he considered allowing it to happen, to stay with the only family he had left in any way he could; but, no, he couldn't do that. He could already hear Eighteen's annoyed shout as she berated him on letting himself get eaten by the bug-person after she deliberately tried to save him. Then slap the back of his head for good measure.
Shaking away the vestiges of his self-destructive inclination, the male android looked one last time at the whirling dome of brutality that was the only thing keeping Cell at bay before turning and sprinting towards the ocean where he took to the air. He almost blasted away that instant, but some gut feeling, something he wasn't sure applied to the likes of him anymore, told him to stop. He waited for a second, trying to determine if he had heard something. Looking back, he didn't notice anything substantial having changed, save for the fact that Yamcha was now manipulating three Spirit Balls at the same time, using them to hound Cell and line her up for a passing kienzan.
But then he looked down at the half-saiyan, who hadn't moved an inch yet, and that gut feeling flared in intensity. What was it trying to tell him? He doubted that the future version of Vegeta's heir was going to fling one last sneak attack after doing all that he had to stop Cell from capturing him, and there really wasn't much he could do in any event.
Not being able to rely on his own intuition in this case, Seventeen half-heartedly wondered 'what would Sixteen do?' Besides insisting on hunting Goku, the giant android would probably have insisted that he help the saiyan in some way. Figures that the strongest of them was also the softest, and that he was appreciated all the more for it.
Not taking the time to deride himself for what he was about to do, Seventeen dropped straight down and sprinted to Trunks' side. Hurriedly pulling one limp arm over his own shoulders, he grabbed a the waist of his pants and hefted him up without difficulty. The added bulk was cumbersome to maneuver, but it didn't slow him down in the slightest as he once again took to the skies and vacated the immediate area as fast as he could.
'When Cell manages to break away from those others, she'll kill all of them. I don't know if Trunks will be grateful that I helped him and not his friends, but right now he's the strongest warrior they have left, and we need all the muscle we can get.' Seventeen rushed over the ocean, trying his hardest not to believe that all was lost. Who knows, maybe that stupid optimism these humans were always going on about was rubbing off on him.
Now, where could they hide from Cell while Trunks recovered?
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Vegeta had seen enough.
After that abomination had practically eaten the female android there was no longer any chance for the Z-Fighters to pull off one of their insane, lucky beyond belief efforts. This did not ensure that all was lost, but the Prince would gain nothing from watching the subsequent slaughter and knew better than to linger.
His search for an exit to this maddening wasteland was even more frenzied than before, fueled by the knowledge that there was really nothing in the way of defense on Earth anymore and any able-bodied warrior was desperately needed. He was not going to watch as the only planet he had any form of connection to be obliterated like so many had under Frieza's and his own merciless rampages. He had much to atone for, and the first step would be in actually stopping this threat now, before anymore died needlessly.
So caught up in his internal vindication was he that Vegeta nearly drifted right past the man he had honestly not expected to ever see again. Stopping abruptly, the Saiyan-Spirit hesitated for a very laden moment, before rotating at a crawl to once more face the tall denizen of Hell that had been standing stationary in that one spot, for no apparent reason, and yet giving off such an aura of purpose that none would think to question him.
Tall, perhaps even on par with the namekian, burly body, regal red cape, chestnut brown spikes of hair, neatly groomed goatee, shining onyx eyes, glinting with cunning intelligence. King Vegeta looked exactly the same as when the Prince last saw, even with twenty years transpiring between then and now. Amongst the damned of Hell, the elder saiyan still exuded the power unspoken; the power of leadership.
And it ached more than he thought it would to see his father after so long.
For a brief minute, neither moved, the King looking back over the landscape, and the prince watching his father, resetting all of the details to memory where time had blurred the edges. Then:
"My son."
Just two words, and Vegeta felt as though he were a boy, still at his father's side and with such a sense of invincibility that he had challenged the whole universe. But what could the King be talking about; there was no way that he recognized his offspring in the form that he was now stuck in, being as far from his real body as he was from King Yemma.
"My son, I know it is you. A father could never forget his child, nor could he ever truly lose him. I've felt your presence, unbearably faint though it is, since the moment you arrived and having been tracking you, hoping beyond hope that you would be in your right mind when I found you."
The tall monarch twisted at the hip to address his son, as though they were once more watching the attack pods screaming off into the unknowns of space. His face was physically the same as Vegeta's had been, but under the skin there was something else, something that defined the King at just a look, something that was the only evidence of a true man beneath the layers of tribalism, pride and paranoia that had dominated his living life.
"I know what troubles you, my son, and I can hypothesize what it is that you search for, endlessly. Answer me this: do you truly wish to return to a planet that is technologically inferior to nearly all you've seen, boasts a pitifully weak population and offers no requirements for the saiyan way of life? Do you truly mean to turn your back on thousands of years of our race to embrace this wholly different one that holds naught but uncertainties?"
Once, not too long ago in fact, the younger Vegeta would have answered instantly, to tell him that, no, nothing meant more to him than the saiyan race and its proud and great heritage. Only a few years ago, he had been making vows and swearing vengeance in the name of his race with full intention of following through to the very end. Not too log ago, Vegeta had been saiyan through and through.
But…that was another Vegeta. That was another life, one in which he had nothing to be proud of, or to find simple joy in. One where his life was dominated by a practically extinct race and its defunct ideals, depriving him of his freedom, and wasn't that what he had been fighting Frieza for? No, back then it had all been about his pride. He still valued his pride quite highly, over nearly anything else that he owned.
But it was intangible, a concept; something that was little more than a word when it came down to it. He had the feelings and emotions, but in the end, it was not enough to sustain him, to give him solid footing to walk the path of his life on. There were things on Earth that actually were tangible, and they certainly gave him purpose and direction for living, and he could envision himself laying it all on the line for them, time and time again. He didn't want to say anything sappy, like 'Love gave him strength', but…
Resolutely, he forced his cloud body to bob up and down in an approximation of nodding. He deeply respected his father, but he would not let the man's shadow smother him forever, especially at the cost of what made him…happy.
The King looked down at his son, face set in stone. He appraised all that was implied within that nod, and what it could mean for his child. For just an instant, his features sank further in, giving him a haunting, brooding expression that sent a ghost of anxiety wash through him like a shadow.
And then the older saiyan's lips upturned minutely. "Excellent. You are ready to become your own man, and I have nothing left to teach you. But there is one thing yet I can do," He turned fully now to face the essence of his progeny, and the Prince saw that he was holding two small, round yellow pieces of fruit that seemed to be glowing slightly, "I can help you escape."
He strode over and knelt down to be at a closer level with his son, putting one of the fruits on the ground so as to grip the other with both hands. Squeezing and pulling firmly, he succeeded to tearing it neatly in half, the amber juices inside dotting his pristine white gloves. He quickly upturned them to prevent any further leakage. "There is but one way from Yemma's domain if you do not have his direct permission, and that is the Long Stair. But not just anyone can climb it, for to do so you must have a trace of Yemma's own power within you to set foot on the steps.
"These fruit are derived from the lifeblood of the kais and Yemma, growing on a tree that can only be touched by one of their own kin or of the purest of heart. If you imbibe the juice in this form, then you will be able to traverse the Stair without difficulty. But be warned," he gave the cloud before him a stern look, "as you are now, you cannot hold the juice for long and will need to hurry.
"As for the stair, it is only made apparent to those who are told of it and is actually very close to here." He pointed at a nearby cliff face, otherwise unremarkable save for the thin crevice that had suddenly bifurcated the stone. "You will have little time to travel, so do not dawdle." The king readied the two halves of the golden fruit over the ethereal form that was Vegeta's soul. "You have made me more proud than words can describe. Now go, and live on as you desire, for it is your life to lead!"
In quick succession, he squeezed the two halves of their juice onto the orange puff, split the other and repeated the action. The drops were absorbed into Vegeta's body like it was actual cotton, and a feeling of electric charge burst forth within him, expanding his body outward slightly. He had difficulty concentrating through the vibrant buzz, but he saw as his father stood and took a firm stance.
"Now, go Vegeta, and show the Universe what you are capable of!" And then a tremendous kiai wave erupted from the deceased monarch, propelling the spirit Vegeta towards the crags at breakneck speed. Soon, he was gone from sight and the King was left on his own. A sad but relieved smile finally broke out on his face.
To get that fruit, he had suffered damage straight to his soul, and it had been only willpower that had kept him present. But now, with his son and final hope on his way to escaping this place, he could finally let go, the strain being almost too much to bare. As his body slowly drifted apart, the old king raised his hand one last time as a salute.
"And so the torch is extinguished, the line of the saiyan passing away into the annals of time. But a whole new fire has been lit, and it is up to you, my son, to determine how that flame shall flourish." There was now only his torso and head left, the last vestiges of the proud ruler. "Be well Vegeta, in life and in death, and know always that you have made me the happiest father possible. And, should your paths ever cross again, give my love to your brother."
And then King Vegeta was no more, his soul drifting as thousands of miniature suns, light in the darkness of Hell.
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Seventeen glared at the strange cat person.
The strange cat person stared right back.
Yajirobe was to the side, cautiously eating a bag of potato crisps.
Trunks lay in the middle, unconscious and covered in damp, earthy smelling rags.
This was how they had remained for the past ten minutes, none of them willing or capable of breaking what had become a most awkward silence indeed.
Seventeen had looked through the files that had been forcibly uploaded into his brain and had looked for any place that could offer both sanctuary and a place for Trunks to recuperate. There had been countless hospitals and relief stations, but none of those were fast acting enough to get the demi-saiyan back in the fight anytime soon.
But then he had stumbled across a small, mostly just cosmetic annotation on a place that Gero hadn't actually ever scouted thoroughly: Korin's Tower, the supposed home place of the mythical senzu beans. That sounded exactly like what they needed right then, so the Android had set course and was there in little time at all.
Unfortunately, after the fat samurai was done freaking out (he apparently had had a run in with 19 and 20, though he had actually managed to get from that island city back here was a mystery that didn't really beg further investigation), he had demanded of the anthropomorphic cat that he get a senzu for the wounded saiyan. It was at that time that he learned of the annoyingly long growth time for the beans and that the last batch had been taken just the other day in preparation for, get this, the androids.
So, long story short, when Sixteen had beaten them up, they had used the beans that they now needed to help fight with Sixteen against am evil bug monster that ate people. Why did all of this seem both funny and depressing at the same time?
Fortunately, there was something that could be done: while the actual beans hadn't sprouted yet, and they were the epicenter of the healing energy, the rest of the senzu plant was likewise magical and steeping some of the leaves and roots in boiling water produced a salve that would encourage natural healing at a rate far beyond that of the normal bodies' capabilities. They had slapped some onto the saiyan and coaxed a bit down his throat before the waiting game began.
Now here they were, silently checking the progress of the healing and trying not to think about the Z-Fighters that had remained to distract Cell. There wouldn't be enough senzu 'tea' to put them back together from whatever condition Cell left them in, if she even decided to even keep them alive, that is.
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While Trunks and Seventeen had been fleeing, the three human warriors had pushed themselves to the very limit in a truly valiant effort to stall the wicked biodroid from following. They had even been doing well at the outset, managing to surprise and confuse Cell and get into a flexible pattern that allowed for them to keep her surrounded and unable to make a move against them.
But all things must come to an end, and so too did the last line of defense posed by Earth's defenders. Their strength was inconsequential compared to Cell's, and it was only through rapid repetition and trickery that they had even succeeded thus far. But they were only human, and their strength and stamina could only go one for so long.
Tien was the first to tire, being the most injured and using the highest factor of Kaioken. His tri-beams began to lack power and weren't as accurate as they had been but moments before, doing little more than buffeting the bio monster. Yamcha was exhausting himself as well, never having manifested so many Spirit Balls in so short a time before, but he tried to persist, but the fatigue was obviously surpassing him and his dislocated arm was a constant source of burning white pain.
Krillin was the only one with any energy left, and he was using it as best he could as he directed kienzans at Cell, sometimes scoring a hit but more often he didn't. But for as tenacious as he was, the former monk just wasn't strong enough to cover the slack made as his two allies weakened around him, breaking the impenetrable barrier they had been creating.
It only took Cell a few seconds before she pushed through their lines and rammed her fist into the shortest fighter's gut, instantly followed by another lightning quick strike to the cheek, sending him flying bodily upwards. Launching herself backwards with a burst of her aura, Cell careened into Tien, knocking him away easily. Yamcha tried to direct his remaining energy spheres at her, but they were all too easy to deflect now without distractions. The bandit quickly found his head encased in both of the monster's hands, crushing in with deliberate slowness.
Despite the increasing agony of having his skull crushed, Yamcha managed to summon up the determination to smirk in the creature's face. "We…won…"
Cell seemed to consider his words a moment before letting up on the pressure, just enough that he wasn't listening to his bones creaking under the assault. "And just what do you mean by that?" She growled, good humor vanished after her embarrassing conflict with the three of them.
"Didn't you notice? Seventeen's gone...you're not going to absorb him anytime soon!"
Cell, instinctively, laughed in his face. 'What kind of crap was he trying to sell? There was no way that she could have lost sight of the other android in so short a time.' But then she thought for a moment and realized that what had felt like seconds was actually more like minutes. Then she looked around the small island, seeing only the unconscious bodies of the other Z-Fighters as well as Sixteen, washed up on the shore like the wreckage of a ship. But no Seventeen, or Trunks for that matter. A quick examination of the sky revealed no trace of her prey, in any direction.
She dropped Yamcha without a second thought, completely tuning out his cries of pain as he landed on his bad arm. Where the Hell had Seventeen gone! She took off in the direction she believed most likely, but quickly found that no trace of the last android could be seen no matter where she went.
The islands! He must be hiding on one of the Islands around here! She immediately began zooming around, visually scanning the other land masses for any sign of the one she sought. She would find him, there was no doubt about that. She would not be denied her rightful destiny!
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Trunks awoke into a blurry world of faraway voices and dulled pain that really didn't feel like pain but he knew it was. His whole body seemed stiff, like it was wrapped in papier-mâché and every move he made was cracking that shell. His vision was too bright and splotchy, so he decided to keep his eyes closed for the moment. He didn't know where he was, as he was lying on something even and hard, nothing like the beach he remembered passing out on.
Someone pulled something off of his forehead-a hand towel?-and he felt a hand being laid against the skin beneath. A moment later, it was drawn away, but the towel didn't return. A hand on his shoulder, shaking him, slightly. A voice that was closer and slightly more distinguishable, close to his ear. He tried to open his eyes again, and he was relieved to see that everything was slowly starting to take a more resolute form, the edges sharpening up.
What he did not expect, nor want to see, was Seventeen's face hovering over him, a frown on that face from his nightmares. Without conscientious thought, his fist flew out and smashed against the android, provoking no more than an annoyed look and aching knuckles. It was also then that his hearing came back to the party.
"Knock it off idiot, we only just managed to get you in fighting condition again," the irate android scolded him, standing up and taking a step back to avoid any future assaults. Another face took up the center of Trunks' attention, this one of a squinting cat. Wait, what?
"Alright young man, how many fingers am I holding up?" Asked in the most clinical voice, the half-saiyan wondered if he really was losing it. Nonetheless, he answered that cats didn't have fingers, which this one took as both a sign of his mental fortitude and lack of respect for his elders. "Try and sit up. No good if you can't even manage the basics if you're going to fall over at any second."
Trunks obligingly pushed himself up, feeling more of the hand towels on his body sliding off. They had been plastered over his arms, tank top and his pants, soaking the clothes in the process. Whatever they had been wetted in, it seemed to have worked, as he felt much better than earlier, without the bruises and sore muscles. His energy too seemed to have been partially restored, though he was nowhere near a hundred percent. He stood up and stretched his shoulders experimentally, letting his body reaffirm itself to being capable of movement.
"Think you can fight?" Seventeen inquired, now standing by the railing of the room they were in. Seeing that they were actually suspended in the air, Trunks started to make the connections in his head. This must be Korrin's Palace, something he had only heard of from his mother in her stories about her adventures with Goku.
"Probably, though I doubt I'll be anywhere near as strong as when I was fighting Sixteen." He eyed the android warily, ingrained fear making him stay on alert around the cybernetic fighter.
"Not to shoot down your oh so justified confidence," Seventeen sneered, crossing his arms as he said it, "but even if you were, we both know you wouldn't stand a chance against Cell."
The tension between them was thick, with both glaring spitefully at each other with animosity usually reserved for years of venomous hatred, condensed into just a few short days. But just as suddenly as the anger flooded him, a grim countenance fell over the young saiyan. Seventeen didn't much care for that look, nor for the sudden creeping dread that inched up his spine.
"I may not be strong enough to defeat Cell as she is now, but I'm still more than capable of finishing you off right now and preventing her from reaching the peak of her power."
The android paled at this, never having made the leap in logic since bringing Trunks with him from the island battlefield. He was now painfully aware of the disadvantage he had set himself in, complete with wide open space where he had no hope of taking shelter. If he wanted, Trunks could demolish this whole tower without a second though and then crush him with his unbelievable power.
Ironically, and fortunately, the very fact that he had followed through with this unexpected act of charity was what got him out of the fire for the moment.
"But you saved me, and I'm not going to just turn around and betray that. Even though you're an android, and the very reason that I came back to warn everyone, I'll honor your decision and not kill right here and now." It seemed almost difficult for the young man to say this, a fight going on inside of his brain between saiyan pride and human logic.
An awkward silence pervaded the open air chamber, the high altitude whirring of the wind oddly muted where there should have been a storm. The two of them, unlikeliest of allies, no matter how reluctantly, locked eyes for a few seconds before a silent understanding was achieved.
"Thank you for your help, Master Korrin, but we need to be leaving now," Trunks explained to the staff baring cat, somewhat ignoring the still silent and eating Yajirobe over in the corner. "We can't risk endangering you so we need to keep on the move before Cell can find us here."
Korrin offered no arguments, merely nodding once. He knew that warriors like these, once they had it in their head, could not be dissuaded from their course no matter the opposition they were met with. In fact, if the purple haired one truly shared the same race as Goku, then refusing him would probably only make his resolve all the stronger.
Without any further words, Trunks and Seventeen cautiously rose into the air and started flying away at a maddeningly slow pace, trying hard not to cause the saiyan's power to rise high enough for Cell to sense it properly from wherever she was now.
They didn't make it very far before Trunks, stopped them with an outstretched hand, head coked to the side as he looked into the air. A look of shock came over him and Seventeen could see that he was shaking slightly. Alarmed that he was going to collapse after they had just gotten him back up again, the android moved closer despite his inherent fear and loathing of this man who would so readily kill him if the situation had been any different.
"What's wrong now?" He all but spat out. Trunks just ignored him for a few more moments, mouth working without any noise coming out save for halting breathing. "Well? We don't exactly have all day here; what's so damn important?!"
Trunks finally turned his gaze back to the brunette android, his eyes no longer containing that usual hatred. What had taken its place was hard to place, but was definitely closely related to fear and panic. "It's Cell," he at last choked out, unconscious tears building up at the corners of his eyes, "she's blowing up whole islands." He looked again in the direction of where he felt the energy signals, and also where they were vanishing en mass. "She's massacring whole islands of people looking for you. And unless she finds you soon-"
"She's going to keep on killing until she does." Seventeen finished with a blanched face of his own. Things had just taken a turn for the very worst.
DBZ-DBZ-DBZ-DBZ-DBZ-DBZ
Cell was furious. Perhaps even beyond that point, though she was hardly thinking clearly at this point to care. Massive balls of multi-colored energy ripped from her fingers and flew out around her, decimating the land into unrecognizable and uninhabitable bits if rock and charred soil.
She was well and truly sick of these pathetic earthlings constantly getting in her way, always sabotaging her rightful ascension to perfection. They had no way of comprehending the grandeur of her destiny, and so they shun and fear her, trying to stop her from becoming so much greater than they will ever even dream possible.
Just for the hell of it, because the were breathing her air, she aimed another blast at the nearest island. The charge was totally overkill for the moderate sized island, but she would gladly sacrifice the entire population of this planet a thousand times over if only to be within reach of Seventeen. Nobody deserved to live, not if they were going to be mere obstructions and annoyances. Humans were nothing but tr-
A crushing grip on her wrist made her yelp in surprise. The crimson orb died away, the energies behind it flowing back into her reserves of power. The hand now encircling her's was bearing down with incredible force, actually making her wince as she savagely pulled her extremity free. Clutching at the bruises already forming, Cell looked up in disbelief at the two figures who had appeared out of nowhere, their auras burning like angelic coronas in the noon day sky.
"You won't be hurting anyone ever again," Goku adamantly declared, he and Gohan glaring at her with the focused teal eyes of super saiyans.
DBZ-DBZ-DBZ-DBZ-DBZ-DBZ
In space, distance in irrelevant. Time is the only reliable measurement of any source, and even that can be warped depending on the views of the measurer.
For one, so freshly drawn from the cold darkness and reborn into the glorious life that was The System, all seemed to at once be occurring faster than his eyes could perceive, and yet also slow enough that he witnessed the very fabric of reality bend around every single atom.
He was adrift in this ocean of indiscriminant information and power, just one speck in the bottomless barrel. He didn't even recognize himself amongst the others, the ones that came before and after. Why was he so important when there was an entire galaxy of connectivity taking place everywhere his mind could see, casting everything he knew into a pathetic scale in comparison. There was no reason to even hold onto his sense of self when-
NNNNOOOOO
A hiccup in The System, an almost imperceptible shudder, but one that touched every edge of that network in some way or another. This single act of defiant selfness alerted all the other entities that thee was someone, something that was resisting, fighting back against the entire System. What could it possibly hope to-
KKKKKKKKKKKKK-KKKKKKKKKKKK
No, the rouge anomaly was pulling the entire system into himself, unconsciously making himself the center point of the entire nexus of data. Everything began to warp under the resurfacing emotions that had been subdued through death, now bursting into the fore center of every single neuron and data cluster of The System, and that emotion was formed into one single Word:
KAKAROOOOOOOOOOOOOOTTTT!
DBZ-DBZ-DBZ-DBZ-DBZ-DBZ
Happy One Year Anniversary Everybody!