"How do you think they're doing?" Maizcal asked. He stared into the hungry universe, taking a break from a shadow-boxing practice that had lasted almost half a day.

"I'm not sure. I tried contacting the crystal an hour ago. No answer," Atua said. Floating before him was a series of figurines, little carvings of crystal and silver.

"I forgot, you like to make toys when you're bored," Maizcal said, grinning. The Kai focused a mild glare on him. An elegant little sculpted hand popped into existence in front of him, aiming a rude gesture at the Saiyan. Maizcal started laughing. "That's pretty good. Hey, I need you to sanity check me."

"Can't be done," Reis said idly. She was lounging in space, watching something on her staff's projection crystal. Atua snorted. Maizcal rolled his eyes.

"Seriously. So, we Saiyans are pretty adaptive, right? I mean, as a god, I've trained using everything from gas giants to black holes," Maizcal said. He rubbed at his chin, looking back at the universe. "What's saying I can't adapt to resist the energy drain?"

"Of an entire universe?" Atua asked, staring at him. "Just… no. Maizcal, don't do it."

"The Kai's doing my job for me," Reis said. She leaned toward her staff, watching intently. The other two could hear the faint strains of dramatic music.

"I'm going to try it," Maizcal said. With a determined expression, he started slowly toward the universal boundary. As he did so, it began to deform, seeming to reach toward him.

"Maizcal, stop!" Atua shouted. He bolted upright in space, knocking the figurines everywhere. The rude-fingered hand careened toward Reis and ricocheted off of her staff.

"No. Stop. Don't," Reis said, deadpan. The Kai turned to look at her incredulously.

"That's suicide, Reis! You can't let him do this," Atua said. He glanced back and forth between the god who was receding quickly into the distance and the angel, who had yet to look up from the drama she was watching. "Fine. I'll stop him."

"He's not really going to do it," Reis said. For the first time, she looked away from the staff and saw Maizcal dangerously near to the boundary. Her eyes widened. "Oh. Shit."

The powerfully built god reached a hand out toward the corrupted universe. The universe itself continued to grow in his direction, with a near-sapient eagerness. The Kai approached at high speed, pouring all of his energy into propelling himself. The crackling white of the barrier spat tiny white sparks at them.

"Maizcal! Don't do it!" Atua shouted. He reached out to the speeding Saiyan and managed to grab ahold of his leg. He pulled back with all of his might, barely budging the god's momentum. Maizcal looked back at him, annoyed. A second later, Reis popped into existence and grabbed his other leg. This time, the god came to an abrupt stop.

"Come on! I was almost there! I can do this, I know it," Maizcal said. The certainty in his eyes would have been inspiring to some. To Reis and Atua, it was an ill omen. Their suspicions came true only seconds later as the still-growing universe made contact with Maizcal's outstretched hand. A feeling like an intense electric shock shot through him as every trace of energy was drained dry, leaving him floating helplessly. Atua tried to pull his hand away from the god's leg, only to find it stuck. A cold feeling began to seep through, and he felt his reserves begin to empty. Across from him, Reis stared down at her hand in disbelief as the same happened to her. Slowly, horrifyingly slowly, the universe enveloped them. They split apart and floated helplessly, the Kai and the angel glaring daggers at the god, who stared out into space with a beaten expression. Absolutely devoid of power, they could barely move, let alone propel themselves.

"Maizcal-sama," Reis said quietly. "You have no idea how much I hate you."

"No," the god said wearily. "I have a pretty good idea."

DRAGON BALL EXODUS

Universe 15 Saga V: Remember Thou Art Immortal

TRUNKS

I haven't been in this much pain since I first started training with Dad. God, everything hurts. Breathing hurts. Blinking hurts.

He dug into one of the pockets of his combat uniform, now ripped and torn with the breastplate barely hanging on, and came out with a small pouch. Senzu beans. Mom must have been hoarding these, she packed a bunch in that container. I took four. Let's see… Mid-thought, he winced. Through the veil of shock, he realized that one of the fingers he was using was broken. Clumsily, he managed to set the bag on his chin and tip it enough to get a bean into his mouth. He bit down eagerly, and was quickly rewarded by the incomparable feeling of senzu healing – he felt as if he'd been whole and uninjured all day, and had just woken up from a night's sleep. He took a step, and the chest-piece of his armor swung loosely and struck his leg. Disgusted, he ripped the loose breastplate off and stood, surveying the area. Blood, soot, and broken trees had created a macabre trail from the ring of trees where Vegeta had been captured to the boggy clearing where the elites had left them for dead. Trunks upended the pouch on his hand and was rewarded by one bean falling, then another, and then what looked like dust. The last bean got crushed in the beating. Man, those guys are jerks. I don't know if I'll ever get a chance, but I'd like some payback.

"Ganos! Lavender! Harmira!" Trunks shouted. His voice echoed through the open wood. Two beans, three fighters. I don't feel great about this.

"Here," a voice croaked from nearby. Trunks' head spun, and he saw some familiar yellow fur. The coyote-man was laid out on the ground, looking more like a dirty, matted fur rug than a sapient being. "Believe it or not, I've had worse."

"I believe it," Trunks said. Gingerly, keeping his face as far away as possible, he inserted a bean in-between the alien's sharp teeth. Lavender looked up at him, one eye swollen shut. "You have to chew it."

The alien complied, and within seconds was back on his feet.

"That's ridiculous," the coyote-man said. "Universe Seven has beans that heal people? Can they bring back the dead?"

"No. We have to use Dragon Balls for that," Trunks said, matter-of-factly. Lavender stared at him for a moment, and then sniffed the air.

"I smell Ganos. Come on," he said. It took them very little time to find the alien, who had managed to prop himself up on a log. One of his legs was bent the wrong way, and the rest of him looked little better. The last senzu bean had him on his feet, reacting in much the same way as Lavender.

"Cognac healed me before, and this is even faster," Ganos said, looking down at his body. "Your universe is pretty crazy, kid."

"Yeah, I'm starting to realize that," Trunks said. He looked up at Lavender. "Where is Harmira?"

"Dead," Ganos said. A soft wind rustled the few grasses that hadn't been trampled, and bore the slight smell of blood. "They beat him to death. I watched. I thought they were going to kill me too."

"Are you sure he's dead?" Trunks asked.

"Things that should have been inside were outside, okay?" Ganos said, pursing his lips. "You really don't need the details."

"Bad way to go," Lavender said. "I'll bet they'll resurrect him though. I mean, this is about as high profile as missions get."

The three of them stretched and worked the kinks out of their bodies. Not only had they been injured, but they had also been lying, mostly unconscious, for several hours. The light had faded and the wind through the trees began to turn bitter. Trunks shivered.

"Why do you think they let us live?" Lavender asked.

"Because they think we're not a threat," Ganos said. "And… I am pretty sure they expected us to die. Actually, I did think I was going to die here."

"Same with me," Lavender said. "But it's not just that. You should have smelled them. Bloodlust, man. Pure bloodlust and sadism. They were getting some… satisfaction out of it. I mean, I'm no saint, but these guys are on another level."

"Some Saiyans are like that," Trunks said quietly. "Dad used to be like that."

"You don't say," Ganos said, deadpan. Trunks glared at him.

VEGETA

His eyes opened, and immediately he regretted it. The light in the small room was not intense, but it hurt all the same. He could tell immediately that he'd been bandaged, and that a few wounds had been stitched up. He could see that the room itself was appointed in the manner of luxury. The furniture was pristine polished wood, with alien tapestries on the walls that had probably been looted somewhere. There was one ornate door and no windows. A small table nearby held a mound of pastries and fruit. On the other side of the bed lay Bulma, asleep. Tension that he didn't realize he was holding slowly released as he realized that his wife was safe. At least, relatively safe. Asleep, but unharmed. Wait, where is Trunks? The aliens? Where am I?

He made himself get out of bed, and realized he was completely naked except for the bandages. His armor had been cleaned and partially repaired and was set out on a dresser nearby, along with Bulma's clothing. Ignoring the hunger that was starting to rise up inside of him, he dressed quickly. Within a few minutes, he had also devoured most of the food that had been set out. He looked hungrily upon the last pastry and apple-like fruit, and then glanced at his wife. I suppose she'll need to eat as well. That was… sufficient. Leaving the table behind, he walked to the one door that was the exit to the outside world, and found it locked. Resisting the urge to break it down, he knocked quietly. The door opened almost immediately, revealing a skinny green-skinned alien about half his height. It looked up at him and cowered, cringing away.

"Your Maj… oh… yeah, that's right," the servant said. His posture changed in an instant, and the alien looked up at him curiously. "Milord is not actually the Emperor. But you are truly the image of him."

Vegeta peered down at the alien, puzzled. So, we're not prisoners? I killed a high-ranking officer. Usually the perpetrator is killed, or tortured, or both.

"Where are we?" Vegeta asked.

"The Imperial Palace, milord," the alien said, bobbing its head. "I am Pico, assigned to be servant to yourself and your wife for your stay with us."

"Servant? So, we are being treated as guests," Vegeta said with surprise. He heard a yawn from behind him, and looked back to see Bulma sitting up in bed, half-asleep and mostly uncovered. The alien made a started noise and then blushed a brighter shade of green. Exasperated, Vegeta shut the door in the alien's face, earning a muffled yelp of pain in the process. He finally turned around, to find his wife now modestly covered by a sheet, and fully awake.

"Where are we? Who was that?" she asked.

"The Imperial Palace. That little alien is apparently assigned to be our servant," Vegeta said. A wicked grin spread across his face. "By the way – you flashed the help."

"I what? Oh!" she said, eyes wide.

"I think he was impressed. Green with envy even," Vegeta said, snickering. She threw a pillow at him, which he nimbly dodged.

"But… we're guests? House arrest, maybe?" Bulma said. She got out of bed and headed toward the dresser where he clothes waited. Vegeta found himself mildly distracted. She keeps complaining about getting older. My only complaint is her complaining.

"Quite possible," Vegeta said. Is he curious about us? Does he want to know why we're here? Vegeta blinked, and then began searching his pockets. Everything is gone, including the broken mirror. Damn. "They took the mirror. We'll have to try and retrieve the entire thing now."

"Trunks," Bulma said suddenly. The thought had occurred to her with one pants-leg on – she teetered and ended up having to steady herself on the dresser.

"Alive," Vegeta said. I can sense his energy, still out there in the forest. He better find that damn crystal, I left it out in the open for him. "I can sense him. I think the bird-man is there, also the upright dog… I can't sense the sniper."

"Didn't the old man order him killed?" Bulma asked.

"Yes. Given that it was his last order, I'm not surprised it was carried out," Vegeta said.

"That was Tech, wasn't it?" Bulma asked. She had finished dressing, and found a comb in one of the small drawers. As she spoke, she started to attend to her hair.

"His analogue, I guess," Vegeta said. "Stronger, but not nearly as smart. Tech would never have tried to threaten you. He's not that foolish."

Bulma stopped combing to give him an infuriatingly coy look.

"You have the weirdest ways of being romantic I've ever heard of, but I'll take it," she said. He glared at her.

"I am not-"

"Excuse me," a voice said from the door, which had been opened slightly. The two of them turned to see another alien, almost identical to the first, but purple where the first had been green. "I am Femto, friend to Pico. He has asked me to show you to the meeting room of the Emperor, milord and milady."

"The meeting room?" Vegeta asked. He cocked his head thoughtfully at the alien. "We're going to have a private audience?"

"I believe so, milord," the alien said. "A great honor, indeed."

"I'm really not dressed to meet royalty," Bulma said. The durable jumpsuit she'd chosen for the journey was an excellent all-weather piece of kit… but it made the wearer look like a sanitary engineer.

"Milady, Saiyans are not very formal in terms of court clothing," the alien said politely.

"I literally saw my father address men wearing tanned skins," Vegeta said. He gestured to Bulma. "Let's go, then. I don't want to keep myself waiting."

CABBA

The casino ship was huge, larger than some space stations. Covered in garish neon signs and flooded with space traffic, the ship was a beacon of vice and debauchery that many could afford, but few could survive unscathed. The luxurious landing area had given way to a series of pristine corridors lined with rare plants, and then onto an office that was, if anything, even more opulent. Behind a gold-trimmed desk of burnished wood was one of the fattest Saiyans that Cabba had ever seen. Being overweight was rare for their race, the combination of hyperactive metabolism and urge to fight made it nearly impossible to keep extra weight on. But a few rare ones, the true gluttons of Sadala, had managed it.

"Casavo," Cabba said, trying to conceal his distaste. It's not his size that bothers me, it's his aura. It's like he's a walking embodiment of corruption. Given that he was literally an army colonel who was known to take bribes, that's pretty apt.

"Cabba," Casavo replied in a deep voice. The man wore an astonishing amount of gold, almost as if he had purposefully gained weight just to make more space.

"You know why I'm here. We know what you've been up to. The Merchants Alliance could be a good thing for Sadala, if it was actually what it purported to be," Cabba said, with as much tact as he could muster. Pirates, plain and simple, masquerading as an upscale corporation. Casavo's not bad. He's the worst of the worst. Not just a criminal, but one who encourages even more criminals.

"Turn legit? Why? Have our customers ran out of money?" Casavo asked, feigning fright. Cabba sighed as the other man chortled at his own humor. "Seriously, Cabba. You're not giving much of an offer at all."

"The alternative is that I simply take you out," Cabba said.

"You and who else? If it's just Brusso and Caulifla, I'm not worried," he said. "I have enough mercenaries alone to handle the likes of them."

"No, I'm not talking about a troop action. I'm talking about personal combat," Cabba said, grinning. Abruptly, the size difference between himself and the mob boss became apparent, but it didn't frighten him. A thrill of excitement rose up. I want to fight. This damn war is too much planning and talking, I need some action! "I'm going to take you out."

The large Saiyan suddenly stood, the chair rolling back from him. He was enormous, thick with both fat and muscle and almost plated in precious metals. His hair, a shock of spikes slanting to the left, looked almost miniscule in proportion to the rest of him. He let out a loud grunt, and suddenly gold began to spill into his aura. Cabba watched, unimpressed. He's not that powerf- whoa. What? The fat man's transformation took effect, and his power shot upward. He fixed Cabba with a confident smirk as his aura reflected off of his jewelry. But most interesting of all were his eyes. Instead of the regular blue-green of the transformation, they were a light gold color and slightly darker than his hair. I forgot, he's a hybrid. Would explain how he got so big, and this crazy transformation – this is not normal Super Saiyan at all.

"You want some, little man?" Casavo asked. He made a fist with his right hand, three jewel-encrusted rings sticking out. "You don't get to be the boss in an organization like this one if you can't hold your own."

"Believe it or not, I've fought someone bigger than you," Cabba said. Deciding not to play around, he transformed immediately into Super Saiyan Two. His hair stood out, and he felt strength infusing his body. Casavo whistled in appreciation.

"Not bad for a little guy. Maybe you'll be a good fight," Casavo said. He actually looks eager. I was not expecting that. "But not in the office. You see the vase over there? Priceless. That painting? It's the reason why I'm an outlaw in three systems. We gotta go elsewhere, kid."

Elsewhere turned out to be a massive open area in the dead center of the casino decks, usually used for live performances and performance art. An ornate tournament ring had already been put in place, taking up almost half of the event area by itself. A trio of scantily clad women led the two of them into the fighting arena, turning to wave and smile at the gamblers who were breaking off to watch. Bemused, Cabba took his place opposite the huge, oddly happy gangster on the white tiled floor. Huh. Real katchinko. I really don't like this guy, but he has good taste. Cabba blinked as the spotlights were adjusted to put maximum light on the stage. An announcer's voice boomed out above the hubbub of the gathering crowds.

"Tonight only, an exhibition of strength and combat! The champion, our most notorious leader, the one and only Casavo! The challenger, the law who operates outside the law, the vigilante Cabba!" the announcer cried out. Vigilante? Come on now. "Only ten credits gets you admission, and betting pools will be open for the entirety of the fight. Bet on first blood, first knockdown, super attack usage, and more!"

"You're kidding me," Cabba said, shaking his head. The crime boss smiled happily.

"Win or lose, I'm going to make a killing off of this. I should be thanking you," said Casavo.

"We'll see about that," said Cabba, cracking his knuckles.

TRUNKS

"Hey kid, didn't this belong to your dad?" Ganos asked. The three of them had searched the area of the battle, looking for any clue or sign as to what had happened after they had been downed. Ganos had uncovered the crystal that Vegeta had been given by Atua. He handed it to Trunks, who looked it over. Dad wouldn't just drop things like that. I think he was leaving it for me. "It lets you talk to the Kai, right? Might be worth a shot."

"Hello Kai… er… Mr. Atua," Trunks said. What's the correct styling for a Supreme Kai? I have literally no idea. Mom made me memorize a bunch of that crap, and none of it is useful here. Thanks, Mom.

"Trunks?" a started voice said from the crystal. It vibrated slightly as it transmitted the words. "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear your voice. We were a little worried."

"You should have been. We got jumped," Trunks said. Lavender walked up to the two of them, holding a small glass container filled with some kind of green liquid. As Trunks watched in fascination, he tipped it up and poured it all directly down his throat. "Mom and Dad got captured by the Emperor, who is definitely an alternate Dad, and Harmira got killed. The rest of us are alive, but stranded in the middle of a forest."

"That's actually better than us," Atua said through the crystal. "We're um… kind of inside of the universe right now."

"Isn't that really bad?" Trunks asked, eyeing the crystal. "Like, it takes your energy, right?"

"Yes, yes it does. We're actually powerless right now," Atua said. In the background, Trunks could hear Reis making a scoffing noise. "Even her. Actually, we could use your help."

"What do you mean?" Trunks asked, incredulous. How did they screw up this badly? Lavender let out a burp. A sickly green bubble emerged. Alarmed, the coyote-man backed away from it. It started to drift toward Ganos, who jumped back at the last moment. Lavender shot him an apologetic grin, tongue hanging halfway out of his muzzle.

"If you use the button, you could teleport back to me and fly me outside of the universal boundary. Once I have my powers back, I can teleport Maizcal and Reis out as well," the Kai's voice sounded.

"I… guess I could do that," Trunks said. I'd definitely have to power up all the way. They're out in space. I can handle it transformed for a little while, but it's not fun. I think we blew up the atmosphere generators with the cargo containers. "I'm going to have to come transformed and go straight for the boundary. If I can't get us there in time, I'll die from lack of air."

"You can do it!" an encouraging voice yelled from the crystal. The three of them winced from the volume.

"That was Maizcal," Atua's voice said, much quieter. "Sorry. Um, please hurry. I'm starting to hear things that aren't there. At least, I think they're not there."

"Okay, hold on," said Trunks. He took a deep breath and then exhaled. Come on, it's not like I haven't done this before. Ridiculously dangerous situation, almost certain death if I mess it up, nothing too serious. Despite his attempt at nonchalance, he could feel real fear building up inside of himself. Well, it doesn't matter. If I can't do this, we're dead in the water anyway. Better to go out swinging, I guess. He summoned his energy and transformed, pushing his energy as far as it would go. Then, with determination, he took a deep breath and hit the button on the crystal.

Cold. Dark. Silent. The Kai in front of him barely got a chance to open his mouth before Trunks grabbed him and started flying at top speed toward the glowing white of the boundary, far in the distance. Ten seconds went by, and then twenty. Even infused with ki, Trunks was starting to feel the wear of exposure to deep space. He could feel sweat boiling off of his skin and into the void. Thirty seconds, and then forty seconds went by. The brightness of the boundary was closing quickly. Trunks' heart was hammering in his ears, his lungs crying out for air. He couldn't feel his toes or fingers any longer. His ki flow began to waver. Unable to maintain it, the transformation faded out. Immediately, raw space surrounded him and he immediately exhaled, remembering some of his emergency training. There was a long, peaceful second as he considered giving up, just letting it all go.

No. Hell, no.

He threw absolutely everything that he had into transforming once again, his jaw cracked in a silent scream. Tenuous and wavering, the Super Saiyan form returned for but a few seconds, just long enough to accelerate across the boundary. As soon as they were clear, Trunks found himself rapidly teleported a safe distance from the universe, surrounded by air, and healed in a matter of seconds. The Kai smiled at him.

"Good work!" he said. He closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment, and then then Maizcal and Reis both came into existence close to them. The Saiyan immediately stretched out, gritting his teeth as he worked cramps out from his muscles.

"Thank you, child," Reis said. Trunks looked up to see the angel actually smiling.

"Definitely thank you," Maizcal said. He pulled at his shoulder, making a face as the tension started to drain away. "You deserve a reward."

"Look, just get my Mom and Dad-"

"A reward? I could make something. What do Saiyan kids like? Er, half Saiyan kids?" Atua asked. Trunks blinked. I forgot, adults just tend to do that. Like I'm not even here. Great.

"I don't know, I haven't been one for over a thousand years," Maizcal said, shrugging.

"Maizcal, you were actually a child once. I was a piece of fruit. We'll have to trust your judgment on this one," Atua said.

"Huh. I can't really argue with that. Well, I was always partial to weapons," Maizcal said. He stroked his chin, eying the boy. "How about a sword, kid?"

"Yeah, sure," Trunks said. I don't really care, whatever gets them over this so we can get back on task.

"Hmm… definitely a katchinko blade if you want it to last. But it'll be hard to sharpen," Atua said thoughtfully. Maizcal grinned at him.

"I can sharpen it, don't worry about that. Just make it, okay? Traditional longsword, nothing fancy. Let's not give him some ornamental garbage that breaks in two hits," Maizcal said. Floating nearby, and looking more than a little amused, Reis watched the proceedings silently.

"You destroy. I create. Let me do my job," Atua said resentfully. Maizcal put his hands up in apology. The Kai reached out and closed his eyes. An outline of pure energy came into existence, and then with a pop a finely made sword appeared. Despite his previous disinterest, Trunks found himself staring at it. That looks almost exactly like… no way. No possible way.

Before Trunks could touch his new blade, Maizcal plucked it out of the air and held it up. Yeah, that's it. This is unreal. I wonder if this is how Future Me got this blade, or if there's some weird parallel timeline thing going on. Maybe Gohan got it first in the other timeline? Huh.

"Hakai," the Saiyan god said, summoning a ball of entropic energy at the tip of one finger. Deftly, he ran the ball lightly across the surface of the blade's edges. He examined it, repeated the process again, and then nodded with satisfaction. "Unless you hit a planet with this, it should hold an edge for decades. A good thank-you-for-saving-my-ass gift, I think."

"Indeed," Atua said. He gestured toward Trunks, and the boy felt something settle upon his back. He looked down to see a familiar blue strap. If this was on Earth, I'd be checking for hidden cameras. But no, this is really happening. Maizcal let the blade go and gave it a push in Trunks' direction. "My advice? Aim it well and let gravity do the rest. Well, when you're in a gravitational field again."

"Why didn't you two work together like this when our universe still existed?" Reis asked. "Look at what you're capable of when you're not drinking or carousing."

The god and the Kai shared a sheepish look as the angel's penetrating gaze settled on them. They floated in the void in awkward silence. Trunks caught the blade and looked at it. He could see his reflection in the flawless metal. Experimentally, he pulled a loose string of hair from his head and tried to run it over the blade's edge; it was cut instantly. He watched the cleanly sliced blue strand float away into the void. He's not kidding, that's really sharp. I better be careful. The silence was finally broken as Trunks sheathed his sword and then cleared his throat. Three immortal sets of eyes swung in his direction.

"I really like the sword," Trunks said, with a polite bow. "But could we teleport Lavender and Ganos up here? We really need to focus on getting my parents off of that planet."

"You're right," Maizcal said. "I have an idea that-"

"No," both Reis and Atua said in unison.

"But it's-"

"No!"

"Just teleport them, okay? Please?" Trunks asked, a pleading note in his voice. "They're in the same place that I was."

Atua closed his eyes and concentrated. Not even a second later, both beings winked into existence with small flashes of light. Ganos glanced around wildly, and then recognized the other beings around him and visibly relaxed. Lavender's only response to teleportation was his nose wrinkling.

"How can a god make air that tastes so bad?" he complained. "It's unnatural."

"Yes, it is unnatural. It's an artificial atmosphere," Atua said defensively. "I'm not going to throw pollen and pollutants into it to make your nose feel better. It's to keep you alive."

Lavender, looking unimpressed, hung his muzzle open and began making a show of breathing through his mouth. Atua glared at him. Trunks stared at all of them, one eyebrow twitching involuntarily. I'm supposed to be the child here, why am I the person calling the shots? He looked at each of them, measuring them up. An angel who doesn't care. A god who made her that way. A Kai with no confidence. A borderline psychotic poisoner. The secret agent of a mouse god.

Yeah, I'll just keep making decisions for now. These adults need someone to look after them.