They didn't destroy the door; they tore the entire frame out. The crew and elite guards on the bridge watched in terrified silence as two huge figures stepped through the gaping hole in the internal hull. One man and one woman, monstrous in visage and yet oddly calm. The man advanced on the Captain's chair. An attempt at interception ended with a guard flying through the air and slamming into the wall. The rest of them watched as the colossal Saiyan stared down at their Admiral.
"It's time to surrender," Broly said quietly.
"Our Emperor has instructed us to treat this as a covert operation until we succeed or he sends word," the Admiral said. He was a rail-thin being with a gray pallor, bright and intelligent dark eyes staring defiantly up at the legendary Saiyan.
"Your Emperor is dead," Kale said. She walked past a cowering group of crew who inched away from her out of fear.
"An obvious ploy," the Admiral replied. "Where is your proof?"
"Twelve," Broly said, tapping on his scouter.
"Broly, allied force, non-client. What do you require?" a metallic voice in dual said over the speaker.
"Did you record any footage from Goku's scouter?" Broly asked. "Around the time that he killed Frieza?"
A buzz spread through the captive crew and marines at the mentions of both names. The Admiral glanced at his communications officer, who looked stricken. The officer quickly paged through the logs on his console, then looked up at the Admiral and shook his head.
"I have located video of the incident itself, although it is primarily of the posterior part of Frieza's head," Twelve said. "I am also uploading several still images."
"Thank you," Broly said. He looked through the pictures on his scouter, ignoring the video. At the second-to-last image, he stopped. With a few more taps, the miniature projector on the scouter's chassis activated. A holographic image appeared in the middle of the bridge: Frieza laying lifeless on the floor, his head hanging at an unnatural angle, while both Goku and Whis stood over him. The low whispers of the crew grew in volume as they saw the proof of the deed, especially when they realized that the Angel of Universe Seven was also present.
"In the background, that's the forward base at Ceres. Only a select few knew that the Emperor was even there," the Admiral said, staring at the image. "B-Beerus-sama must have passed judgment on the Emperor."
"Goku passed judgment on your Emperor," Broly said. "Beerus-sama did not care enough to save him."
"Our most powerful guy defeated yours," Kale said. "I think that means that you lose."
"I…" the Admiral, great dark eyes blinking, glanced around at the assembled crew. Battle-worn, frightened, and already beaten, their pitiful appearances made the Admiral realize that the answer was already in front of him. "I hereby surrender all forces of the Planet Trade Organization currently engaged in operation in the Solar System. Officer Lytic, please send this command override to all ships and soldiers in and around Earth – I want all of them standing down immediately."
With obvious relief, the communications officer immediately began to transmit to the rest of the fleet. Kale looked around the bridge, and had to suppress a smile. The crew was alternating between hugging each other and hurriedly sending messages on their communicators. More than anything, they looked happy to be alive.
"With the Emperor gone," the Admiral said, tapping his long fingers together. "We will need to return to our families before the chaos breaks out again. It will be everyone for themselves for a while, until some new tyrant, whether called Emperor or not, comes to keep the peace."
"Have you ever thought of just being peaceful?" Kale asked. The Admiral looked up at the two hulking Saiyans and emitted his race's version of a laugh: an odd buzzing noise.
"You break into my bridge to show me pictures of a murder," the Admiral said, buzzing even louder. "Demand my surrender, kill one of my guards, and now you advise peaceful conduct. Even the Emperor did not give us this much bullshit."
"Kale," Broly said, putting a hand on her arm. She stared angrily at the officer, who placidly blinked at her. "Don't. We already won."
"I know," Kale replied. She turned her nose up dismissively. "Mock us if you want, Admiral, but we just saved what, at least twenty thousand of your people?"
"They will survive this battle, yes," the Admiral said. "I do not know how many will survive what awaits them at home."
DRAGON BALL EXODUS
Rebellion Saga XI: The Spirit Will Remain
This is a work of fanfiction, using characters from the Dragon Ball series, and is intended to be seen as a hypothetical continuation of the anime version of Dragon Ball Super (immediately following the Tournament of Power). All characters and settings in this work that are not original are the property of the owners of the Dragon Ball franchise.
DILL
New Sadala was a wreck. Between skirmishes and pitched melees, massive volleys of ki blasts, rifle fire, and explosives, the nascent settlement had become little more than a battleground. Although nobody else had known, the refugees had decided on their own strategy – a last stand, luring the enemy into New Sadala itself. By bottling up the invaders in the ragged streets of a city under construction, they were kept away from the Royal Park and the waterfront towns just across the ocean. It helped that Seventeen continually patrolled about the perimeter of the Park, quickly destroying any enemies coming near. Standing in the midst of a group of downed soldiers, in an alley littered with construction debris, Dill stared down at her defeated enemies with contempt. If they're going to fight on Earth, they come to us. Not the Earthlings. Not the animals. Us. If they don't figure it out, we will teach them.
The end of her bat was covered in debris and gore, looking more like a horrific club than any kind of sporting tool. As yet another group of soldiers came around the corner and into the alley, she swung the bat up blindly and it struck with a loud crack, spraying a jet of blood onto the walls. The first soldier, head in a distinctly concave shape, fell lifeless to the ground. The second soldier raised an energy pistol and fired. The beam clipped her side, burning her skin and jersey. Already stung by dozens of minor wounds, she ignored it. The bat came up again, sending the pistol flying and breaking the hand holding it. The third soldier advanced, then hesitated as her other hand suddenly came up in front of his face. The ki blast that literally removed his head left him no time to think about his mistake.
Abruptly, the world went white. A series of ear-splitting explosions sounded. Nearly blind and deaf, Dill was forced to depend on the ki-sensing technique she and many other refugees had copied from the Earthlings. I'm not good at this yet, but… that's the Prince! And… Kakarot. Great. Although I guess he avenged us. It has to count for something, right? As her hearing returned, she could hear words coming over her scouter.
"…here to provide fire support," Vegeta was saying. "We're depending on your aim, use your scouters to paint targets for us."
Dill shakily emerged from the alleyway, hearing explosions continuing in the distance. Her breath was coming ragged, skin soaked with sweat. The hand she had been holding her weapon in was mostly numb. There are so many of them, still. I don't… I don't know if I'm going to survive this. The realization made the world spin around her, reminding her that she was exhausted, and starving, and in so much pain that she was having trouble ignoring it. For the shortest of times, she seriously considered giving up. Then, something red and angry boiled up from inside her, and she slapped herself hard with her free hand. She shook her head to clear it and fixed her gaze on the closest group of soldiers. A weak surge of energy ran through her body, the last scrapings of determination and anger.
Before she could charge, she caught a glimpse of something shining in the corner of her eye.
"Dad!" Sorrel yelled, jumping into a melee. It swallowed him up. All she could see was occasional flashes from the metal of his spectacles, and soldiers falling around him. Letting loose with a battle cry, Dill jumped into the fray and swung wildly, sending even more of the soldiers to the ground below. The Earth was slick with blood and covered in bodies that moved, and some that didn't. For several minutes, she fought the increasing tide of soldiers. She couldn't hear Sorrel any longer. She couldn't hear anything but her own heartbeat in her ears and the pained cries of her enemies. What happened next brought everything to a standstill.
"Cease fire! Cease fire immediately!" a commanding voice said over one of the scouters' common frequencies. "By order of the Organization, cease all hostilities with Planet Earth. Authorization J-Orange-21."
A few sounds of combat and one last explosion were heard, and then the ruined, smoking settlement became eerily quiet. Dill leaned on her bat, suddenly drained. Her legs trembled underneath her. She looked up to see the enemy soldiers, just as exhausted, leaning against fragments of wall or simply sitting in place It's over. It's actually over. I'm alive. Wait. Sorrel! She called his name a few times, and heard nothing. I can't sense him. The scouter can't pick him up either. With a sudden burst of energy that surprised her, she strode toward the last place she had seen her friend fighting. The soldiers parted before her, giving her as wide a berth as they could. In the center of the company, she found what she was looking for.
His glasses were broken, his eyes lifeless. It was obvious from his injuries that he'd been beaten until he could no longer fight, or even breathe. Her eyes panned across his body, only to realize that he wasn't alone. A second pair of spectacles, broken in half, lay next to his outstretched hand.
Her bat bent almost double as her fist clenched, warping the steel. The enemy soldiers hurriedly stepped away from her, wide-eyed. The weapon fell from her grip. She dropped to her knees, and then onto her side. The Pride Troopers were the first to find her, curled up and staring at the remains of her friend and his father. Numbly, she felt a single massive, gentle hand picking her up. Her consciousness slipped away.
TRUNKS
This isn't fun anymore.
His first attack, synchronized skillfully with Goten's, blew out most of the existing enemy center, killing many of the invaders and sending others flying through the air with injuries. The long range fire had stopped completely thanks to Jiren's efforts, and remained only as a mess of bodies and broken weapons on the ground. The gray alien, surprising the children, had then voluntarily assumed a defensive role. Enemies who tried to actually breach Satan City were repulsed with brutal efficiency. Jiren seemed to be everywhere at once, a literal army of one. Those few that he missed were hit by a barely visible purple blur as Dyspo shot through their ranks, decimating them. At first, having someone else to handle defense was amazing. The two boys had gone all out, taking down as many soldiers as they could. But soon, the shooting gallery became a slog. Already tired from fighting in space, the boys found themselves involuntarily flickering in and out of Super Saiyan, too winded to hold the transformation for long. This would be a great time for Gotenks. But we wasted it. Just like Dad was afraid we would. Dammit.
A huge volley of incoming fire caused the two of them, nearly fifty meters apart, to frantically dodge in midair. Organization troops began falling from the skies, while the elites shrugged off the attacks. With astonishment, Trunks realized that the fire wasn't aimed in his direction. He looked down to see a sea of vehicles. Half of them bore the blue-white-black of Capsule Corporation, while the other half bore the bright orange of the Royal Army. Fire from everything from sidearms to surface-to-air missiles was pouring into the enemy from below. Almost if on reflex, half of the enemy formation pivoted and headed directly toward the counterattacking armies.
"Trunks!" Goten yelled in the distance, waving. "We gotta split up!"
"I know! I'll help the army!" Trunks shouted in response. Goten nodded and flew off to reinforce Jiren's efforts. By the time Trunks turned to regard the emerging battle, the Organization had already started tearing into both of Earth's armies. While they were taking casualties, neither army could land a decisive blow on the Frieza Force – with even the rank-and-file having power levels in the hundreds, even the strongest of conventional weapons needed luck to be effective. Trunks gritted his teeth and transformed once again, feeling a strange wrenching sensation as he summoned as much energy as he could. It actually hurts to gather ki. I don't care. Let it hurt. I am Trunks, the son of Vegeta. If there is one thing Dad taught me, it's to never give up. Even if the enemy never stops coming. Even… if I die. I'm not even worried any more. They will remember me. He felt lightheaded as he unconsciously fed slivers of his own life force into the furnace of anger and ki searing inside of him, his aura burning like a beacon to the Earthlings below. Beneath him, the valor of the Earthlings was proven by a thick trail of bodies left behind by the aliens. But valor was the only virtue they could bring – for every invader down, dozens of Earthlings gave up their lives.
Knowing he couldn't rely on energy techniques, Trunks dipped down into the battle and simply tried to help any of the Earthlings that he could. He saved a few. Many more died. He didn't have the ki to attack formations, and didn't have the speed to screen Earth's militaries. It was like collecting water in a sieve. He stared out over the carnage, exhausted and shaking.
"Trunks!" Goten said over the scouter. Trunks could hear combat raging in the background. "Did you win yet? We need help over here!"
"Are you kidding?" Trunks responded. He lurched into action, blindsided a large invader who had started attacking a squad of Royal infantry and laid him out cold. Abruptly, his transformation faded. "We're the ones who need help, Goten!"
"We cannot leave the city," Jiren said. "The soldiers know their duty. Their sacrifice will be honored."
The words sunk in as Trunks looked out over the sea of ruined vehicles and casualties, nearly a quarter of the combined militaries already wiped out. This can't be happening. I… can't do anything. No matter how many we take down…
"Cease fire! Cease fire immediately!" a commanding voice said over one of the scouters' common frequencies. "By order of the Organization, cease all hostilities with Planet Earth. Authorization J-Orange-21."
Almost immediately, the invaders disengaged. They were only too glad to get away from the weapons and fists that had claimed so many of their lives. Trunks staggered and then caught onto a ruined vehicle nearby. For a few blessed seconds, he closed his eyes and just breathed. Then, abruptly, he was sick. When he had finished, and the pain in his stomach had receded, he stood and wiped his mouth. I want to see whoever was in charge of the armies. I need to thank them. He flew straight to the rear of the army, where he was surprised to see a familiar figure standing in amidst a group of officers. The portly, furry figure was watching the invaders fly away with a pair of ornate binoculars. Trunks landed next to him without any warning. His eyes widened as over two dozen guns were pointed in his direction.
"No, no," King Furry said. He put down the binoculars and then put a paw on the nearest rifle barrel. "This is Trunks Briefs. He's on our side."
"Briefs? As in, the Capsule Corporation Briefs?" one of the officers asked.
"Yep," Trunks said. The speed at which the guns were all pointed elsewhere was astounding. I really hate the whole VIP routine, people trying to kiss my butt or suck up to my parents… but sometimes, it is useful. Not getting shot at is pretty nice.
"We're hearing reports of a planet-wide ceasefire," the King said. "Have you or your parents heard anything?"
"They announced it over the scouter, so it must be real," Trunks said. "I have no idea what happened, but I'm glad it's over."
"Well said," the King replied.
BULMA
Trunks. Vegeta. Please be safe. Please.
"Doctor Briefs, please move indoors," the well-meaning man said. His uniform marked him as Corporate security, while his rank insignia showed him as a Captain. He was the third such officer to try and get Bulma to 'safety'.
"I'm safe where I am, don't worry," she said absently, watching the battle above them. Next to her, Whis was doing the same. "Please go on with your duties, Captain."
"But, Doctor…" he pressed. The tall white-haired man smiled at him.
"Don't worry, she really is safe," Whis said. Like all of her security force, the Captain had been briefed as to who and what Beerus and Whis truly were, and ordered strictly not to interfere with them. He nodded reluctantly, shot a last concerned glance at Bulma, and then ran off to rejoin his force. A few seconds later, Vados arrived, bearing both Beerus and Champa in tow. The latter looked dark with rage, but for once wasn't shouting or carrying on. Beerus looked weary, as if he just wanted the whole situation to be over. Vados seemed fresh, unruffled, and thoroughly unconcerned.
Above them, the battle raged on. A bright streak of white flared from one end of the sky to the other as Gohan simply burned his way through the enemy formation with raw power. She had lost track of Tien, Yamcha, and Master Roshi a few minutes prior, but doubted they were in any real danger. Caulifla was easy to spot; explosions of golden energy periodically lit up the sky. Piccolo had taken up a position above the main body of Corporate security and was alternately fending off attacks and sniping anything that looked like an officer or an elite. He's damned smart, honestly. He must have crippled a third of the enemy's command structure now, and keeping my guys alive is paying off in enemies downed. I'm glad I lent the rest of the force to King Furry – they would have gone to waste here.
"What's eating him?" Bulma asked quietly, nodding toward Champa.
"He technically defeated Vegeta," Whis said, keeping his voice low. "In reality, Vegeta only conceded to end the war. He had already knocked Champa-sama unconscious."
"Vegeta actually beat up Champa-sama?" Bulma asked. Whis nodded. Bulma turned back to the battle, but was barely watching it. The training room definitely paid off. Even Vegeta has to be satisfied with his results, even if he'll never be satisfied with his own strength.
The space in front of the grand entrance to the Corporate headquarters suddenly became more crowded, as four more individuals arrived.
"Beerus, that wasn't nice," Heles said in reproach. The cat-god blinked at her.
"Having the final showdown and not letting any of us know?" Belmod said, folding his arms in front of him. "And I even lent you my own agents. For shame."
"Well, ah…" Beerus said, stricken. He probably didn't even think about it.
"I recorded it," Whis said. "You can watch it as often as you'd like, from several different angles."
"Godtube?" Heles asked. The angel nodded. "I would have liked to see it in person, but I suppose this will suffice."
"Heles-sama, you may not like the outcome," Sour said. She glanced at him, then at Beerus.
"I take it Son Goku was not victorious?" she asked, plainly disappointed.
"No. Of course not," Beerus said, grinning. "He was little challenge for me."
"I saw it in person. Kekekeke," a voice came from above them. They looked up to see Quitela and Cognac. The mouse-god was smirking at them, while his attendant hovered nearby, wearing his regular beneficent smile.
"Oh yeah? Where did we hold it, then?" Beerus asked pointedly.
"The World of Void," Quitela said. "You both went to the exact set of coordinates we held the Tournament at, not that there is anything left of it. I figured you'd use that spot, so I just kind of sat back and waited."
"I'm not even surprised," Beerus said. "Well, you didn't interfere, so I don't really care."
"Me? Interfere? Kekeke," Quitela said. "I just wanted to see the show, nothing more."
"You came. You saw. Now you leave," Beerus said, making a motion with his claws. "Quitela. Heles. There is no reason for either of you to be here. The invasion's over."
"I was on my way out," Heles said briefly. She gave Sour an odd smile. "Did you say goodbye to your new friend?"
"Uh," Sour said, looking startled. He quickly regained his composure, earning a few amused glances from the other angels. "Yes, Heles-sama. We had an interesting conversation."
"Brother, please don't damage him. He's very entertaining," Whis said.
"I won't damage your new toy, Whis," Sour said drily. "Heles-sama?"
She reached out and took hold of his shoulder. In a flash of light, the two of them disappeared.
"Yeah, I suppose it's time to go," Quitela said. He grabbed Cognac by the elbow, and then suddenly released it. A mirthful gleam appeared in his large eyes. "Kekeke. Two cats and a clown walk into a bar-"
"No," Champa interrupted, glaring at him. "Just shut up. Go away."
"Yeah," Beerus said. "Enough."
"You know better," Belmod said. Quitela looked to be preparing an angry retort, only to look surprised when Cognac put a hand on his shoulder. The two of them disappeared.
"I feel like Cognac's main purpose is to make him a little less of an ass," Beerus muttered.
"Cognac is a little odd as angels go," Belmod said. "I sometimes think he enjoys some of Quitela's more questionable pursuits."
"They are a complimentary pair, if it pleases you sirs," Marcarita said. The gods eyed her dubiously.
Bulma sneezed as the wind carried acrid propellant smoke in their direction. Most of the assembled deities wrinkled their noses. This is what gods are like when they're not trying to impress. They almost act like really powerful children. Her thoughts were interrupted by the message coming over her scouter, followed by a strangely oppressive tranquility – her ears had gotten so used to hearing fighting that the absence left them ringing.
"They surrendered," Bulma said, a big smile spreading across her face. "We won."
"Good," Beerus said. He let out a sigh. "You know, I didn't actually want to invade Earth. This planet's really too valuable to risk serious damage right now. I was hoping that the invasion fleet would make all of you give up."
"Beerus-sama, we don't give up that easily," she said. "Remember Vegeta at the Tournament?"
"How could I forget?" the god asked. "The man was a mess. Half-dead and stumbling around in front of Jiren. I hate to admit it, but I have to admire that kind of tenacity."
"You're surrounded by it," Bulma said, motioning toward the nearby security forces. They were cautiously celebrating, still watching the retreating enemy as they consolidated and flew up through the clouds for extraction. "Not to mention the Saiyans."
"The refugees," Beerus said. His tail flicked back and forth in agitation. "I'm still not sure how to feel about that. They're small in number and loyal right now, but what happens in hundreds of years? Or thousands? This planet is the incubator of a possible catastrophe."
Bulma winced, and then shook her head. Yeah, he didn't hear the casualty reports that Twelve was giving out.
"Beerus-sama, we actually lost almost a fifth of them during the fighting," she said quietly. "Every last one of them fought. Men, women, children, and elderly. I don't care what they do in hundreds of years. They've earned a place here."
"If they do something stupid, I'm holding you personally responsible," Beerus said. I would thank him, but I know he's not actually joking.
"Marcarita? Vados?" Whis asked as he looked over at the other attendants, who bore the same puzzled look that he did. "Are you sensing this?"
"I am," Marcarita said. "One of ours has been activated. It feels like Reis. But if she has returned…"
"…Maizcal is probably with her," Vados said, her nose wrinkling in distaste. "High Priest-sama put out that announcement about Universe Fifteen, but I didn't think the gods had been brought back as well."
"Excuse me," Bulma said. The entire assembly turned to face her, and she abruptly realized that three universes worth of divinity was staring her in the face. She suddenly gulped. "Who are these people you're talking about?"
"The god of destruction of Universe Fifteen," Belmod said. He frowned thoughtfully. "He wasn't very good. In fact, he was awful."
"His universe was not competently managed," Vados said. "By the god of destruction or the Kai."
"Reis did her best," Whis said, sighing. "She was always so earnest. Dealing with the entire mess broke her heart. She used to be almost as happy as Kusu, and now she's… not."
"Wait, so Zeno-sama brought back a universe?" Bulma asked.
"No," Beerus said. "It started manifesting on its own, nobody knows how just yet. You'd be surprised how often even Zeno-sama and High Priest-sama can't figure out why something is happening."
"A couple of times every million years or so," Champa said, breaking his silence. "Usually resolves itself without an issue, but I don't think this is one of those times."
Bulma was surprised as Krion's voice came over her scouter. The little lock symbol in the corner lit up, indicating a secure line.
"If anybody listening to me has internet access right now, check the live cast from West City TV," he said.
"What?" Bulma asked sharply. She pulled her cell phone out and tuned into the stream. The gods and angels gathered around to watch.
WCTV
High above Satan City, the helicopter pilot allowed the camera to get an establishing shot of the city itself, nearly untouched by the fighting. Then it panned to the south, where a mass of destroyed vehicles was still smoking.
"We're here live above Satan City, and we have confirmed that we have a ceasefire between Earth and these invading aliens," the reporter said over the constant sound of the rotor blades. "The enemy forces have already withdrawn. Civilian casualties are described as minimal. The number of military casualties has not yet been released, but is suspected to be high."
The helicopter pivoted, giving the cameraman a view of the Capsule Corporation headquarters in the distance.
"Despite a significant enemy attack, the facilities of the Capsule Corporation appear to be mostly untouched. As with Satan City, the majority of the casualties are expected to be military," the reporter said. Abruptly, the camera swung toward the remaining allied army of Earth and focused in on a familiar figure. "If you at home can see this, it appears that King Furry himself was involved in the defense effort. I say this not as a reporter, but as a citizen of Earth – we have a monarch who is willing to put himself on the line for all of us. This is something to be proud of."
The camera feed from the helicopter cut out, replaced by an anchorwoman with platinum-blonde hair. She smiled winningly into the camera.
"Thank you. His Majesty is certainly a sight for sore eyes. Unfortunately for Earth, there was also a second army in the other hemisphere," she said. A slideshow of photographs, mostly taken by cellphone, showed the second army massing and approaching the Saiyans' settlement. "We have an aircraft approaching the scene of the battle. Can you hear me?"
"We can hear you," the second reporter replied, the unmistakable sounds of jet engines in the background. "Ready when you are."
The scene cut into their camera feed from the belly of the aircraft. In stark contrast to the other targets, New Sadala was nearly destroyed. Smoke rose from the wreckage at several points, and it was obvious by the number of enemy casualties coating the ground that the refugees had not given up easily.
"We apologize to our viewers if you have young children watching," the reporter suddenly said. "My God. This isn't good for children to watch. This isn't good for anyone."
The camera focused in on the first group of refugees it could find, two figures supporting a third that apparently had a broken leg.
"We've received reports that there were a significant number of casualties among the Saiyans. Apparently, their civilians all joined the fight," the reporter said. The camera found a new person to focus on – a young woman carrying a body over her shoulder. She approached a line of prone figures on the bare earth, and slung her load down at the end of it. "That's enough. Cut the feed, man."
The camera abruptly returned to the anchorwoman, who was still staring at the opposite screen with her mouth open in shock. She seemed to shake herself, swallowed, and then faced the camera with a strained smile.
"The real question that we have tonight: who were the protectors? A team of super-powered individuals appeared to have been our first line of defense, without any of us realizing it," she said. Her expression quickly resumed its normal mien. A slideshow of still photographs began to show, bearing pictures of the fighters of Earth. "Viewers submitted pictures directly and by social media, showing some of these people in action. A few of them have been identified."
"This is none other than Vegeta, the husband of the famous Dr. Bulma Briefs," the anchorwoman said. In the background, a picture of Vegeta readying a ki blast had been expertly framed. It abruptly swapped to a picture of Goku, flying low over the ruined rooftops of New Sadala. "This man has been identified as Son Goku, and is a former winner of the World Martial Arts Tournament, several times over."
The anchorwoman continued a fairly comprehensive roster, including those that she was not able to readily identify. The picture of Top made her giggle involuntarily. The picture of Jiren made her gasp. It was obvious to the watchers that she had not seen any of them ahead of time. Finally, she wound up announcing all of the names. The camera panned to her right, showing a familiar figure with a great mass of curly hair and a great, manly mustache.
"Mr. Satan. In your own words, who were those people? What happened out there?" the reporter asked. The burly man looked down at her, and smiled. He didn't flex, or pose, or start bragging.
"I'm not doing this anymore. I swear, every time this happens, it's up to me to come up with some kind of explanation. Not this time. Earth got invaded, and they fought it off. Wasn't no pyrotechnics or stage tricks." he said. She blinked. "You want to know who those guys were? You really want to know?"
"Yes," she said. "Please. We all want to know."
"They're the heroes," Mr. Satan said. "The real heroes. Let me tell you a story…"
This ENDS the REBELLION saga.
An interlude of three episodes will follow, leading into the UNIVERSE 15 saga.
A big thank-you to all of the readers – we're only getting started.