Hey, another upload! I hope you've been having a fantastic week. Nothing much to say about this week's update, but this is why the last chapter was paced so weirdly. I really thought these scenes needed to be their own chapter. I think you guys will understand why. Also, I bet some of you might have forgotten that this is an Aladdin-inspired story, with the direction the story's taken - hopefully, this chapter reminds you, lol.
I forgot to plug a few things, in the last chapter.
- I did post a fic a few weeks ago that you might wanna check it - it's also Dragon Ball related, and it's about Bulma and Yamcha. Maybe you'll like the change in topic, for me. It's on my page, and it's called Homecoming.
- My good friend SaiyanPrince541 wrote a fic for me! It's V/B, and it's called Shadow. We came up with the concept together, and he just ran with it. I highly recommend checking it out.
Okay, enough promos. Thanks for all the feedback, and thank you for being so patient and understanding. Enjoy!
Nail stood hunched over, panting. Frieza had put him through the ringer, for sure. He got a huge kick out of pushing him to his limits, and toying with him. They had been fighting for less than an hour, and he was at the end of his rope.
"Oh, you poor thing," Frieza said, standing behind him. "I use just a fraction of my power, and we already get to the bottom of you. Why not drop this futile resistance, and surrender? I still say you'd be valuable to my cause. I won't even punish you, for your insubordination."
Nail turned around and blasted Frieza with his full power, leaving a large cloud of dust, dirt, and sand in the air. It was useless; he stood, still calm and collected. Nail never knew that someone that powerful could ever exist in the universe. His calm attitude didn't alleviate his nerves; it seemed as if he could snap at any moment.
"Nothing in your bag of tricks is going to work; I thought you might be a bit smarter and realize that. Now, are you going to submit, or should we follow this course to its natural conclusion? The choice is yours, of course, but I cannot understand why you would persist, like this. For whom do you fight? I doubt that a Namekian would be interested in the affairs of those outside of your business. Aren't you supposed to be peace-loving folk? Going out of your way to fight me would contradict all of that.
"Unless, of course, there's something you're keeping from me..."
Nail stiffened and his eyes widened. Did he know about the attack?
A wry smirk formed on Frieza's face. "That's it – you're keeping secrets. Well, if you won't share your information willingly, I know ways of making you talk."
Frieza suddenly punched him in the gut, knocking the air out of him. Nail fell onto his knees. Before his arms could hit the ground, Frieza grabbed one of them and started pulling. Nail gritted his teeth, trying to escape his vice-grip. Frieza chuckled, as he sunk his nails into his skin.
Then, with one clean rip, he tore off Nail's forearm. He screamed in pain as he fell onto the ground, writhing and shaking.
Frieza tossed the severed arms onto the ground, in front of him. "There, there. I'm sorry that might have hurt, but hopefully I taught you a lesson – don't keep secrets from those in a position to dominate."
Nail took several deep breaths. He had to stay calm. Slowly, he stood back up.
"Do be careful – don't overwork yourself."
Nail shut his eyes and braced himself. He forced all of his remaining energy into his right arm, as he clenched his left hand into a fist. With a loud and long scream, his arm suddenly regenerated. It was covered in green slime, but the make was completely perfect. Nail held his right hand, as it twitched and moved. He was a much paler green now, and was panting hard.
Frieza looked surprised. "Well. That's quite interesting. Regeneration – very few species are able to master that. Unfortunately, you look even weaker – if only you could do the same for your strength."
He suddenly phased out of Nail's view. He looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen. Then, he was socked in the nose, before he had a chance to react. He fell backwards, flinching in pain. Frieza loomed over him.
"I tire of his game – your continued theatrics are boring me. Now, are you going to finally tell me what secrets you're hiding, or should I send you on a one-way path to oblivion?"
Before he could give an answer, Frieza's scouter began beeping. He was getting new messages every second. He rolled his eyes; he couldn't leave his underlings alone for an hour without them getting into trouble. He pressed the call button and listened to the cycled messages.
"Lord Frieza! The palace is under attack! It's the Saiyans!"
"Frieza, my lord! The Saiyans broke through the blockade! They're in the palace!"
"Frieza! Vegeta's escaped! That soldier you sent down busted him out!"
"There are more Saiyans, my lord! And apparently, Zarbon's with them! We might be outclassed!"
All the messages were frantic variations of those phrases. Frieza was shocked. He made sure that he had killed every Saiyan he could get his hands on – how were they able to organize a rebellion?
As he stood gawking, Nail began laughing. "Even if I did tell you everything, that information would be useless to you. While you toyed with me, our allies have already begun their missions. Everything is going as we planned."
That was when it clicked, for Frieza.
"How could I have fallen for such an obvious ruse?!"
He suddenly powered up and flew away, leaving Nail lying on the ground. He shut off the messages on his scouter, quickly clicking through the readings. He didn't care about the Namekian. He didn't care about the Saiyans, either; he would deal with them, later.
He finally came across the correct screen. All of his fears were confirmed. A little blinking dot was moving across the screen.
"NO, NO! MY DRAGON BALL!"
He sped faster. Frieza would not be cheated out of immortality.
Bulma landed underneath a small plateau. She pushed her back against the wall, and stood still, trying to feel for surrounding power levels. As each second passed, it was clear that no one had tried following her.
She reached into her armor, and pulled out the Dragon Ball. Her teeth grabbed onto the bottom of her glove, pulled it off, and tossed it onto the dirt. She quickly rubbed her hand on the Dragon Ball. The ball glowed, and a bright light blinded her. As the light faded, Piccolo was revealed, with his back turned to her.
He hadn't said a word to her, and she could still feel the contempt and anger wafting from him. As seconds ticked on, he was still turned around. It was as if he was trying to ignore her, thinking that she'd go away after a while. She didn't know what to say to him. So, they were stuck in a silent stalemate.
He finally turned around, and looked down at her. He immediately scoffed, when he saw the uniform. "Look, get your wishes done now. If you only have one wish on your mind, that's all you're getting. I don't care if you have no ideas – I am not tying myself down to another self-absorbed, ill-informed, good-for-nothing punk who wants to have extreme power or wealth or whatever the hell you might want. So make it quick, and get it over with."
"I only have one wish, so you won't have to worry about that, Piccolo."
He blinked, and gave her an odd look. "How do you know my name? Who are you?"
She closed her eyes and breathed in. She grabbed the back of her helmet, and pulled it off of her head, taking off the cap underneath with it. She shook out her head and looked back up at him.
His eyes widened, before he resumed his usually aloof expression. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I told you already: make it fast."
She should have expected that reaction. Piccolo had no reason to want to see her – she treated him like garbage, and she was the one who got him into this mess. She tossed the Dragon Ball onto the ground, without any care.
"Piccolo…" she started. "I'm sorry. I… you were right. I'm selfish, shortsighted, and… I was only thinking about myself, when I made the wish, and I didn't think about the consequences or the implications. That was wrong, and I should have known better than to use that power on such an impulse."
She looked back up at him. He was still glaring at her. Tears weighed down her eyes.
"And… I was a horrible friend. I treated you no better than Frieza has. Hell, I wasn't any better than anyone else you've been forced to serve. I never took how you'd feel into consideration, and I could never imagine what your slavery has been like. There aren't any excuses in the world that could brush off what I did to you, and I don't care if you never forgive me for how I treated you…
"I still want to do whatever I can do make it up to you."
She stood still, waiting for some response. She didn't look back up at him, afraid of what his reaction would be.
He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up at his hardened but not malicious gaze.
"That's enough. Stop groveling over it, and toughen up. I thought I taught you better than that."
She nodded, and wiped the tears away. She let out a small laugh, as a wave of relief washed over her. "You're right."
Even Piccolo couldn't hold back a small smirk, and patted her shoulder once. He looked at the Dragon Ball. "Should I ask how you managed to get that thing?"
Bulma was suddenly brought back to the mission. "Piccolo, I don't know how much time we have, but I've got to make my last wish, before Frieza finds out the Dragon Ball is missing!"
"Alright. You have any ideas?"
"I have one, but I'm not sure you're gonna like it."
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "I'm going to guess it's something other than 'I wish for everything that Frieza wished for to be undone'?"
"We can't do that."
Piccolo narrowed his eyes. "Why not?"
"Because he still has another wish. He could easily use that one to undo my wish. You just said you couldn't grant the same wish to the same person twice. You never said anything about granting the same wish to two different people twice."
"Damn, you're right. Didn't even think of that. Then, what's your idea?"
She looked back down at the ball. She walked over to it, knelt down, and picked it up. Ever since she planned on coming back, she thought of what she could do with her last wish. She had to make it count, for sure – an entire planet and an entire race of people were at stake. She went through every scenario for every wish in her head, making sure to count for everything that could go wrong. Each one had drawbacks and consequences, but she had narrowed it down to a few.
Then, the Grand Elder had told her about Piccolo's past – the son of an evil warmonger and the other half of the Earth's guardian. He was put into the Dragon Ball because of the actions of his father, and not for anything that he had done, personally. No one deserved to be judged by the actions of someone else. Piccolo was just as much Frieza's victim as the Saiyans were. And he might have been only marginally worse than the cruelest masters he had, before.
"One act of kindness may be all that you need."
She held onto it tighter, and planted her feet firmly onto the ground. She had said that she wanted to earn Piccolo's forgiveness, now it was time to show it.
"Piccolo, I wish for your freedom!"
Piccolo gawked at her. He suddenly fell down, and caught himself with his left arm. A large surge of power was coursing through him, and he couldn't contain it. He could only grind his teeth and brace himself. The ground flattened into a crater around him, and a blinding light engulfed him.
Bulma felt his power skyrocket suddenly. And it was still climbing. The ground dropped out from underneath her and she fell onto her knees. She looked down at the Dragon Ball. The brilliant orange sheen was fading into a dull grey. She covered her eyes, as she tried to look at Piccolo.
He screamed, and the bright light suddenly disappeared. The dust and rubble settled back onto the ground. Sweat rolled down his forehead, and he was breathing heavily. He looked down at himself – ki was radiating off of him like heat. What had happened?
Far across the galaxy, someone else felt what Piccolo had.
"Kami, what is it? Is something troubling you?"
Kami looked down at his assistant and life-long friend. "It's Piccolo. He's been freed. Even this far away, I can feel his presence, again, Mr. Popo."
Mr. Popo stepped back, with wide eyes. "How could he have been freed? What could he have done?!"
Kami breathed out through his nose. All of Piccolo's memories came to him. The eight-star ball had brought on nothing but tyrants and malevolence. Everyone who had gotten that amount of power had used it for his or her own selfish gain. Kami had come to grips with this long ago.
What surprised Kami was how Piccolo had dealt with it. Not only did he not encourage his malicious masters, he tried to circumvent them. He would exaggerate his limitations, or use their poorly worded wishes against them. And he never aided them, outside of the wish. No matter the bargains, he firmly stood his ground.
The only person he was ever lenient with was a lovesick young woman. Somehow, he had gotten under his skin, and, though he might have denied it, he had grown fond of her. She clearly admired him, in return. She learned of his past, but she still accepted him – she was the one who set him free.
Then, he saw the last tyrant that ruled over Piccolo. Out of all of them, he was the worst by a large margin – a genocidal dictator who just wants power and control. Kami couldn't help but chuckled, at the irony. He trapped Piccolo in the Dragon Ball to prevent him from becoming a tyrant; instead, several more sprout up across the galaxy.
Kami explained everything to Mr. Popo, who was having a difficult time taking everything in.
"Piccolo may have to fight this monster – if that's the case, then he cannot do it alone."
"But what can we do, all the way out here?"
Kami paused. "Maybe Shenron could help – if we act fast enough, there may be time for one more wish."
Mr. Popo left the lookout to locate the Earth's Dragon Balls. Kami stayed behind, gripping onto his staff. He shook his head.
"I have terrible misjudged you, Piccolo. You're nothing like your father, after all…"
Piccolo's new power was huge; it overwhelmed any other energy that could have been nearby. She looked down at her hand – the once brilliant Dragon Ball was now a simple granite sphere. She let out a breath and smiled; this was exactly what she wanted.
Piccolo looked up at her, a little distressed and confused. He was having a hard time processing this. "What the hell? Why did you wish for that?"
She held back a giggle – his confusion was a little cute. Her face fell into a frown. "I ended up on Planet Namek, after I got sent away. I knew you're a Namekian, so I asked their elder if he knew who you were. And, he did, and he told me about you… I don't know what your dad did, but Kami wasn't right to trap you, like that."
His eyes widened. She knew about his past, and she still freed him. Any sane person would have gone out of their way to make sure he never got out. He didn't realize she was that forgiving.
She spoke before he could. "What your dad did might have been awful, but you aren't him. If you were, you would have been glad to help Frieza, with his plans. If you were, you wouldn't have tried to help me, all of those times. You're a good person, and you don't deserve to be locked away like that. Frieza won't get to make his last wish, and you won't have to serve anyone anymore.
She walked up to him, took his arm, and put the granite sphere into his hand. "Piccolo, you're free."
He was still gawking at her. She just smiled up at him. His awed expression dropped back to his normal impassive look. He smirked.
He threw the rock onto the ground. He held out his palm and fired a ki blast, incinerating his prison. The dust blew away into the wind, completely forgotten about.