Author's Note: This chapter is getting a ratings bump to M (Mature) due to violent content.

The Emperor pointed a single finger in the direction of the enemy and spoke a single word. The night ceased to exist.

Massive balls of ki and energy waves flared from the packed ranks of the Imperial Saiyans, a gigantic barrage heading straight for the their counterparts from Universe Six. Cabba immediately shouted an order, projecting his voice with his ki. As one, the Sadala Army returned fire. The two fusillades met in the middle of the field, instantly incinerating every blade of grass for kilometers around and leaving a second sun between the armies, burning the eyes of any who refused to look away. The two sides pushed the growing ball of energy en masse with little gain… until another finger was pressed firmly on the scale. Admiral Colla's fleet began to rain fire from above, beginning with a salvo of precisely aimed railgun shots. Designed to take down planetary or system-level threats, the slugs of incredibly dense alloy punched through armor and flesh alike, wounding even Super Saiyans. Caught off-guard, nearly a hundred Imperials were downed by naval fire before a quarter of their entire force took flight and sped toward the fleet in the upper atmosphere. The interception force was quick to shoot down any projectiles, forcing the fleet to launch its defenses early.

Far from winning the battle for the allied forces, the weakening of the Imperial mass-attack only made the conflict even more unstable. The entire Sadala Army focused their energy. The ball began to move back toward the now overmatched Imperials. But each meter that it moved caused it to shake ever more violently, until the inevitable happened. With a sound that left nothing but silence and ringing in the ears of every combatant, the great ball of energy exploded. The front ranks of both armies were nearly vaporized, and the others were thrown back and onto the ground. The center of the field was nothing but a crater of black glass, cracked and glowing red with residual heat. As the armies recovered, the battle above them was only beginning. Saiyan marines in battle-suits and pilots with hypersonic fighter craft launched by the hundreds, meeting the Imperials mid-air and engaging in bloody combat. Flashes of light lit up the clouds as casualties from both sides began to fall from the sky. The guns of the fleet were silent - the crowd of combatants was so thick that the capital ships could no longer use their guns for fear of hitting their own fighters.

A single figure glinted red in the darkness above the Emperor's army, and then plunged down into it like the judgment of an angry god. Jiren struck their center feet-first, the impact sending entire ranks of warriors flying into the air. Too panicked to start flying, they flailed wildly as they shot upward. Coming to the battle just after Jiren, Kefla saw her chance… and took it. A massive burst of energy erupted from her as she became a fountain of ki blasts flying in every direction. The warriors who had been launched into the air were suddenly struck with orbs of crackling green energy. Some were flung into the distance or thrown into the ground. Most of them silently dropped from the air, trailing smoke, their eyes as glassy as the charred soil beneath them.

The Emperor bellowed another command, and the entire army broke ranks and surged forward as a mass. Jiren found himself frustrated as the enemy refused to engage, allowing him to kill a few so that the rest could fly past. Kefla found herself besieged by an entire company of skirmishers, harrying her and refusing to stand and fight. Shielding their Saiyan allies, the Pride Troopers moved into position to block the way of the rapidly advancing Imperials. A wave of gold crashed upon a wall of crimson and black, and neither came away unharmed. The Pride Troopers fought ferociously, but not all of them were capable of facing Super Saiyans. With Jiren already trying to engage offensively, their trump card did not exist; almost a hundred of them died during the first Imperial assault, torn to pieces by the wave of battle-mad Saiyans. However, the Imperials did not break the line. Rather, they were broken upon it. Wave after wave came at the Troopers, whose discipline shone bright through the haze of blood and confusion. The Imperials found themselves facing a determined and unpredictable foe, whipped into zealous frenzy by a god they would never know and driven by principles they could not understand. A surprising number of Saiyans, even Super Saiyans, met their end against the army of Universe Eleven.

The battle raged on for hours, with heavy casualties and many feats of outright heroism on both sides. But not every part of the battle involved thousands of fighters and dozens of ships. Some of the conflicts were personal. A simple knife could change the survivor of a fight. A sword that doesn't exist could strike down a man. A god could rise where none could possibly survive. Hero or villain, good or evil, both sides fought for only one reason: existence. To lose wasn't to die. To lose was to have the concept of one's own race, one's own universe, rendered into dust. Every soul on that blackened field knew that defeat meant everything that they knew and loved would cease to be.

There could be no mercy.

DRAGON BALL EXODUS

Universe 15 Saga X: Abattoir of the Mirror

VEGETA

The sky was thick with obstacles. After seeing that the battle was well in hand with Cabba, Colla, and Kahseral calling the shots, Vegeta had only one objective in mind. Enemies tried to stop him. He didn't bother fighting them; he simply killed them all. Dozens of corrupted Saiyans fell from the sky in his wake, many of them flickering out of Super Saiyan as their physical forms died. Fully transformed and brimming with power, the former prince had no intention of wasting time with unworthy targets. This day, there was only one opponent worth facing. With each defender's body hitting the ground, the flame-lit throne grew closer and closer. Vegeta could see the face of his enemy, and found an echo of his own gaze judging him harshly. An elite was tossed contemptuously from the sky, head facing the wrong direction. Vegeta could see that his enemy was smiling, displaying his power. As an entire platoon of elites lifted off to defend their Emperor, the Saiyan on the throne lifted his hand.

"Stand down," said the Emperor. He rose, and transformed. Other than the glowing, spike-tailed goatee, his version of Super Saiyan 2 looked exactly like Vegeta's. His power rose to match his analogue, muscles straining against the gold-inlaid grey and crimson battle suit of his office. "No one here is to interfere in this fight."

"I can't let you exist," Vegeta said. He hovered before the Emperor, barely able to restrain himself. I have never hated another person as much as I hate this… thing. Not even Kakarot. Not even Frieza. This bastard is everything I left behind. Every evil act, every mistake I had to pay for, resurrected with malice and stood in front of me. "There is no room for both of us in the multiverse."

"Of that, I agree," the Emperor said. The two of them locked eyes, naked rage from the prince met cool disdain from the Emperor. "You know, my consort has found evidence corroborating your version of events; the whole situation with the multiverse and such. I have come to believe your story. But I do not agree with its outcome. We are not a mistake. We are a stronger universe, come to take our rightful place. History will ignore you, but the glory of my Empire will last forever!"

The Emperor's surprise attack came as no surprise at all; it was exactly what Vegeta would have done. A fast strike came in from above the former prince. He deflected it easily, sending a spray of golden sparks over the throne nearby. The corrupted ruler continued into a combination, coming into a relentless assault that forced Vegeta back. A sudden droning sound forced them apart as a crippled fighter dove helplessly in-between them. Vegeta caught a single glimpse of the terror on the pilot's face, and then the craft hit the ground and exploded into a white ball of fire. Sparing not a thought for the dead man, the fighter and the Emperor flew back into combat. Both under the influence of Super Saiyan 2, both enraged and fighting for their existence, their eyes began to flicker white and unpredictable pulses of golden energy flared from their conflict, touching off silent, distant explosions of eye-searing light. Sweat, blood, and shreds of clothing flew from them as they mutually abandoned defense and simply began slugging each other in raw fury. Finally, they broke apart.

Vegeta flew back, shielding himself with his arms. His battle-suit was nearly torn to pieces, and he could feel the mounting pain of minor injuries. The Emperor did not give chase; he was just as worn down as the fighter. The two regarded each other, each catching their breath.

"You're fighting in my universe. You have no chance of victory," the Emperor said.

"You're complacent. Those aliens you've been conquering are nothing compared to a true Saiyan," Vegeta replied. He poured even more power into his transformation, straining the limits and causing a whirlwind of golden sparks to shed from his crackling aura. I may not be able to use godly ki, but I remember the ki manipulation techniques that I learned from Whis. Between that and training with Twelve, I may have an advantage that he can't counter.

"You think I am impressed by power? I am the Emperor of the universe!" the monarch shouted. His own aura surged, a wave of force splintering the makeshift throne behind him. Without warning, he hurtled forward and struck the fighter with a hammer blow, sending him flying into the ground. Vegeta struck hard enough to put cracks into the Earth, an impact that sent searing pain through his body. He shook his head to clear it, his eyes suddenly watering from the sudden flare of light from above him. There's something coming. I feel it. He lunged to his feet and tried to evade.

"GALLIC LANCE!" the Emperor shouted. He hurled the spear of searing ki down and ran it clear through Vegeta's thigh, pinning him to the ground. Vegeta looked down at the glowing weapon, and then back up at his enemy. Surprising the Emperor, he started to chuckle to himself. That hurts. Good. I needed a wakeup call. Vegeta brought his hands together at his side. "You find your own death amusing? Hold still and I will happily indulge you."

"You're doing it wrong," Vegeta said hoarsely. He spat, not surprised to see flecks of blood. As the Emperor extended a hand and summoned a ball of blazing white ki, Vegeta gathered a massive amount of energy between his hands and took aim.

"FLENSING WAVE!" the Emperor shouted, sending a concentrated torrent of tiny ki barbs down toward the fighter.

"GALLIC GUN!" Vegeta replied. A massive wave of energy shot from his outstretched hands, vaporizing the spray of vicious barbs and continuing on toward its target. Ignoring the blood soaking into his pants and running into his boot, Vegeta wagered even more of his ki, turning the glowing wave into a sledgehammer of force. The attack struck dead center, forcing the Emperor to resist using his hands and ki alone. His snarls and grunts revealed a man caught off-guard. Vegeta gave him no mercy. The final pulse detonated the attack almost on top of its target, and this time it was the Emperor slammed into the ground. Panting, hands crackling with golden bolts of energy, Vegeta stumbled as the ki spear faded. For a moment, his leg rebelled and refused to hold. Muttering a curse, he grabbed hold of his kneecap and forced it straight, pressing it until the spasm stopped. In the distance, the spray of dust from the Emperor's impact began to dissipate. He's almost unconscious. Almost dead. All I have to do is finish him off. He took a step toward his downed adversary. Before he could react, a familiar ki signature emerged behind him. A small hand gripped his shoulder.

A sudden searing pain in his back made him yell in surprise and agony. The sudden presence of ki that he sensed materialized into a girl with a manic grin and a bandaged face, holding a dagger of gleaming metal. Its surface was fouled by a green substance that Vegeta immediately recognized. He threw a punch toward her on reflex, but for some reason his arm was moving in slow motion. Smirking, the girl moved away from the blow.

"Thank that mangy coyote friend of yours for the poison you're about to enjoy," the corrupted version of Garter said coyly. A surge of weakness shot through his body, and he suddenly found himself stumbling, as if the ground had decided to start moving on its own. "Mother was able to replicate it. I plan to find him and return his little gift. But you? You are just the luck that I needed."

Slowly, with no hurry at all, Garter began to walk toward her father. Vegeta finally succumbed, numbness spreading through the wound on his back. He crumpled to the ground and rolled over, fighting to keep his lungs drawing air. Above him, the sparse clouds lit up with explosions, showing Imperials and marines in dark relief as the battle in the air continued. As the poison clouded his eyes, the fighters passing through the many conflicts seemed to leave traces in the air. Behind it all were the lights of the damaged and smoking capital ships of the Sadala Navy. He heard Garter roll her father onto his back with a groan, and then listened as she addressed him, with the same ruthlessness that she had brought to kill Vegeta and anything else in her way.

"Father… I could kill you right now. I'm one ki blast away from being Emperor. I don't think anybody would dispute my succession," she said. Vegeta heard the telltale whine of a blast being powered into existence, and smiled despite the cold chill starting to seep through his body. Yes. Kill him. You evil little shit. Vegeta's hopes were not to be brought to light. He suddenly heard the sharp hiss of a hypodermic injector, followed by the blast being dissipated harmlessly. "But I'm not going to. I want you to remember that, Father. You owe me. Also, I've injected you with a gift from Mother. A prototype of purely distilled Saiyan energy. It should be enough for you to see off the imposter I've so thoughtfully crippled."

Something fell to the ground in front of Vegeta's blurring vision, and he focused long enough to see the lifeless eyes of an Imperial elite staring back at him, most of his hair burned off and the rest still smoldering. Then two sets of boots touched down in front of the still warm body. One set was as black as night, and the other was a smaller version of his own, complete with Capsule Corporation logo. A concerned face, framed with blue hair, wavered in double in front of him.

"Trunks," Vegeta croaked. His skin had become a strange shade of gray, and he felt as if he was no longer really part of his own body. "Stay… away from… her…"

"Take your father and contact Strap on the subspace code that I gave you," Vegeta's own voice said. Nearly delirious, it took the former prince a moment to realize that it was his analogue speaking. As a distant explosion shook the earth beneath the battlefield, Trunks began talking urgently into his scouter. There were tears in his eyes as he looked upon his own father. More than the wounds, more than the poison, more than even death itself, it was his son's reaction that shook Vegeta out of his own death spiral. I… am… The sound of a sword being unsheathed was sharp and echoing in his ears. "I'll take care of this."

With an effort, Vegeta summoned the last of his ki and armored his own life force, fighting the poison just as fiercely as any deadly opponent. I am… I am Vegeta-sama! I will not die from this cowardly attack! The blue light of a portal glared in his eyes, forcing him to blink and weakly look away. A pair of small but surprisingly strong hands propped him up, and then lifted him.

"You're not going to die today, Dad," Trunks ordered. He sounds… like Bulma. "You hear me?"

Speech was beyond him, but Vegeta managed a lopsided grin.

LAVENDER

This is a nice little routine we've got worked out. Here I was thinking Saiyans were all serious fighters. I'm glad this girl is an exception.

Whether by happenstance or sheer convenience, Lavender and Garter had entered the fight together and had continued working as a team long after it had been merely convenient. The girl had a talent for attracting enemy attention, gathering small crowds of them through provocation and trickery. It didn't take long for them to start walking into convenient clouds of gas. Some of them wept copiously, some fell unconscious. The unlucky ones started screaming as their very flesh began to corrode. I thought she might get squeamish, but nope. She is the daughter of an assassin after all. After each of Lavender's attacks, Garter happily took care of any stragglers with a playful efficiency that the coyote alien found a bit disturbing.

"Watch that gas," Garter said. The half-blinded elite she had just finished fell to the ground beside her, and a pool of dark crimson began to spread from where he landed. "You almost got me last time."

"Stop jumping around like a frog with a burned ass," Lavender growled, hands on his hips. He opened his mouth to continue speaking and the entire world suddenly turned white, followed by a horrendous sound almost like a million sheets of metal being torn in half by an angry god. The two of them looked up to see the pieces of a small cruiser trailing through the air and leaving trails of fire and smoke. The stranded marines and fighters of the dead ship seemed to falter for a second, and then launched an all-out counterattack. The sizable force of Imperial elites that had begun celebrating suddenly found themselves at the center of a new and vicious assault.

"Fair enough," Garter said agreeably. Despite all of the fighting, she was as fresh as a flower, albeit a flower nearly soaked in blood and soot. Without warning, another elite came down from the clouds of smoke fogging the body-strewn plains, screaming a challenge. By the time Lavender started to shout a warning, Garter had already taken action. The elite was wielding a long ki blade of golden energy in her fist. She landed and swung in a fluid motion, her attack leaving a streak of burned air. Garter dropped to the ground and whirled in place, sweeping the woman's legs out from under her. As she fell, the girl simply stretched out a hand and formed a dagger of blazing white ki, far more modest than the elite's sword. She didn't swing or stab. She held it in place as the woman fell upon it, the tip of the blade sinking in to the base of her neck and penetrating into her brain. Garter pulled her hand away as the body began to spasm and kick. Sidra's balls, she's even more ruthless than I am. I… kind of like her. If she'd just stop trying to pet me, we'd get along famously.

"Hey, how about we do the next one in reverse? You throw up a couple of clouds and funnel them in front of me. I wanna try something," Garter said with a conspiratorial smile. An explosion behind her lit her in stark relief and tousled her short spiky hair.

"Sure," Lavender said, raising an eyebrow. "Beam attack?"

"Nah. Only Mom uses those," Garter said. Her smile widened. "I've got something special. I've never tried it before."

"Are you sure this is the right time? We're literally at war, girl," Lavender said, shaking his head. The funny part is, she's the one Saiyan I've met who would fit in perfectly in Universe Nine. She'd probably hate it, but then… that's appropriate, honestly.

"That's why it's the perfect time. I live on a space ship," Garter said impatiently. A group of Imperials emerged from the smoke, rolling black and tinted by the flames of a wrecked fighter nearby. She saw them and crouched down, gesturing in their direction. "Come on, Lavender!"

"Fine, fine," he said. She better pull this off. Last time Basil asked me to do this, his new kick ended up dislocating his knee and I had to do all the work. The Saiyans caught sight of both of them and immediately rushed to attack. Some of them manifested ki weaponry. Some transformed. None of them expected what happened next. Lavender dropped to all fours and sped forward across the ground, trailing a line of condensed gas that immediately began expanding. The one Imperial that wandered into it started to wail and pull at his smoking skin. The others quickly backpedaled. I smell your fear. I smell exactly what you're going to do next. And that's why… He turned in a tight arc, sending a spray of dirt out from his powerful paws, and then traced another line of smoke on the other side of the nearly panicked warriors. As Garter had requested, they were now trapped between walls of poison.

Lavender leapt away from the ending point of the smoke and landed on his hind legs. He looked up to see Garter weaving layer upon layer of unstable ki in front of her, hands moving almost too quickly to see. He immediately began backing away. That does not look safe. At all. One last gesture sealed the fuming mass of ki in a fragile red shell.

"SEARING ATTACK!" she shouted, launching the ball directly at the warriors. A couple of them tried braving the clouds to escape, stumbling out of the other side partially decomposed. The rest were nearly at ground zero for the impact, which erupted in a massive explosion. Lavender was thrown backward onto his tailbone and watched in awe as a mushroom cloud rose into the air from the point of impact. Flaming pieces of Saiyan littered the landscape, along with dissipating clouds of lethal gas. The girl pumped her fist in triumph, grinning at her still-staring partner. "Trunks tried to use something like this on me. I had to try it out for myself!"

Lavender turned a fearful gaze upon the happy little girl who had just blown dozens of enemies apart. Note to self – be careful with Saiyans. Even the ones who look cute. A loud groan drew his attention. Sighing, Garter walked over and kicked the fatally wounded soldier. His head came completely off and flew into the distance, impacting wetly on a still-glowing chunk of debris that used to be a turret. She stared after it, wearing a look of surprise. Scratch that. Especially the cute ones.

CABBA

"You! Uh… put up that barrier thing!" Cabba called out. The Pride Trooper hesitantly obeyed, and just in time. The combined blasts of the elite squads rushing them detonated harmlessly on the alien's energy shield. Despite having to improvise at every step, Cabba continued to call out orders. The Troopers obeyed as best as they could, confused as to why their General had seemingly been swapped for a Saiyan from Universe Six. How in the hell did I get separated from the Army? For that matter, where is Kahseral? I don't know a damn thing about Pride Troopers, but they're going to get rolled if nobody takes command.

The next few minutes were tense, Cabba already in Super Saiyan 2 and fighting alongside the crimson and black clad forces of Universe Eleven. It took him very little time to adapt to their command structure, to identify the key squads and assign them roles that worked. Surprising both the Troopers and their makeshift commander, everything clicked. The Imperials surged against their line, and failed again and again. While some of the Troopers were injured and others lost their lives, they did not break. Cabba tried not to pay attention to the number of Troopers who were already motionless on the ground. They're like a cross between fanatics and vigilantes. They're not just fighting for a paycheck or a country; this is a near-religious calling for them. It's a little frightening.

The Troopers tensed as yet another assault came flying out of the glaringly lit smoke of the battlefield. Some transformed, others powered up new attacks. Cabba stood at their vanguard, his golden aura lighting the scorched ground in front of them nearly as bright as day. As they prepared for another costly defense, Cabba realized that the assault… wasn't.

"General!" a rugged voice called out from the erstwhile attackers. Emerging fully from the smoke was a familiar man with a glowing red cyber-eye and a red and black unitard. Behind him was nearly an entire regiment of Saiyans, hard-eyed and bloodied. "I have no idea what to do with these men! Mind if we swap?"

"Not at all," Cabba called out. He glanced back at the Troopers, to see many of them grinning in amusement or even chuckling. A third of their force is literally dead, and they're still buoyant enough to find humor in this. Even by Saiyan standards, they are… resilient. "Your soldiers are quite capable, General. However, I'd prefer to get back to my own people."

In the midst of the chaos, backlit by fire raining from the sky, the two officers met between their respective forces. With little ceremony, they exchanged a salute and then walked briskly past each other to reclaim their proper places. As Cabba neared his own fighters, the relief on their faces was palpable, almost pathetic. Wait, what did Kahseral do? His questioning expression was noticed by one of the junior officers, who saluted him.

"General, that man never stopped talking. We've been listening to him yell out a lecture on 'Justice' the entire time he was in command," the officer said, shaking his head.

"I think he expected us to do some call-and-response," said another Saiyan, an older woman with a scarred face. "It was like going to chapel, except we weren't allowed to leave."

As the other members of the Sadala Army voiced their discontent, Cabba could hear similar complaints echoing from the Pride Troopers' lines.

"No speeches at all! He just kept fighting and yelling orders at us," a tall green-skinned alien complained. Kahseral had his hands up in front of him, trying to calm his agitated soldiers.

Cabba snorted in amusement. Yeah, I'll stick with Saiyans from now on. Not much for speeches.

TRUNKS

"He'll be okay," Strap said. Partially empowered by her personal nanites, her form radiated a dim and unearthly green, with glowing motes of the same color streaking across the whites of her eyes. The rest of the nanites were busy at work in the body of the fatally injured prince. "That poison is nasty business. It's not natural either – this is a chiral alkaloid in a racemic mixture. There's no way you would find both isomers at equal populations if this was generated in vivo."

"Yeah, that's because it's Lavender's poison," Trunks said. The two of them crouched over Vegeta's bloodied form. The battle had moved mostly away, leaving the three of them hidden by the smoke and distractions of war.

"No. I had my little guys sneak a taste while he was playing in the corner," Strap said. "That stuff was natural. Almost completely levorotatory. This is synthetic, almost without impurities and with next to no residual solvent. Whoever reverse engineered Lavender's work this quickly is a genius level chemist. I'm not surprised they didn't have time to separate the isomers."

"You realize that it's probably the corrupted version of you," Trunks said. Dad looks a lot better. It's weird seeing little green lights moving under his skin though. He glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes widened. The distant figure of the assassin, trim and dark, was standing in front of a whirling maelstrom of power. Green and gold lightning circulated around the shadowy shape before him, and he held his sword high, ready to strike.

"I… don't want to admit it, but you're probably right," Strap said with an expression of disgust. The hole in Vegeta's leg began to close, and the unconscious Saiyan groaned from the pain.

Trunks turned toward the conflict, and noticed the air wavering around the assassin. Wait. That's not a heat mirage. He reached up and tapped a few buttons on the Mark III scouter, activating an infrared vision filter. Immediately, the mirage resolved itself into a third combatant, somehow invisible to the naked eye and almost untraceable with ki sense. No! Not this time!

"Keep him safe, I'll be back," Trunks said. His aura flared as he transformed and then flew toward the assassin at flank speed.

"Trunks! Wait!" Strap called out, her voice receding into the distance. I'm sorry, but I have to do this. She already almost killed me and now my father. I'm not letting her do this again!

The assassin, intent on the massive cloud of energy in front of him, did not notice the short figure that suddenly winked into existence behind him. He didn't see the vicious grin or the drop of green fluid that fell from a sharpened blade, causing a puff of acrid smoke as it hit the burned earth below. There was only one person who saw her prepare to strike. Only one person who could act. I have to make sure that she can't do this again. I might… I might have to actually kill her. But I can't get within range of that knife. Slowly, a desperate grin spread across his face. For the first time, he reached back and closed his hand around the hilt of his god-forged blade.

The venom-dripping blade reared back, and then descended. It missed its target, falling to the earth and weeping both poison and blood from the severed hand still holding it. The assassin leapt to one side and turned to see Trunks with sword in hand, a stunned look on his face. The corrupted Garter, wearing the same expression, was staring at the bleeding stump where her hand had been seconds ago. She let out a keening wail and dropped to her knees, cradling her wounded arm. Tears wet the soot-stained bandages on her face, leaking from eyes suddenly turned dark with murderous rage.

"I will kill you!" she spat. She gathered a ball of blazing ki in her remaining hand and held it to the bloody end of her other arm. More blood trickled from a bitten lip as she cauterized her own wound, but she otherwise did not make a sound. Trunks found himself backing away involuntarily as the smell of burning flesh assaulted his nose. Still shaking and pale beneath her bandages, Garter managed to stand. Her murderous gaze seemed to fill Trunks' entire vision. "I'm going to take that sword from you, and I'm going to cut off-"

Her eyes widened. Instead of words, blood spilled from her mouth. The assassin flickered into existence a few feet away from her, red staining his curved, shining sword. For the second time, Garter dropped to her knees. This time, her eyes only betrayed confusion.

"I was… to be…" she whispered, staring at the broken ground. Her torn and ripped clothing was beginning to soak through with her life's blood. "The first… of my name…"

Her eyes glazed and she fell forward onto the blackened earth. The assassin gestured toward his sword, and a blazing ring of ki swept across it, burning away any trace of the assault. Trunks stared down at his own sword, and then copied his father's analogue. The katchinko blade gleamed pure and spotless again, as if it had never seen violence. The assassin knelt by the body of the fallen girl and turned her over. With a surprisingly gentle hand, he lifted the bandage and looked underneath. As soon as he had seen her face, he turned away sharply and let the bandage fall back into place. Yeah, that's… I can't even guess what he's feeling right now.

"Garter!" a voice boomed. Forgotten in the life-or-death struggle, the cocoon of whirling energy had begun to thin out. A figure, taller and stronger than before, dressed only in a cloth hanging between his legs, emerged from the storm of unnatural ki. "We will have words about your manners, but I am grateful that-"

The reborn Emperor, crackling with artificial energy, stared at his fallen daughter. His eyes traced the trail of blood from her hand to her body, and then saw the assassin where he knelt, sword still at the ready. He spoke not a word, but the pupils of his eyes vanished. A massive eruption of energy shot into the sky as he transformed, growing even taller and stronger. The assassin stood and looked upon his opponent with an unreadable expression, eyes betraying nothing.

"Trunks. Go back to Strap. Guard your father while he heals. I think we'll need him again," the assassin said. He switched to a two-handed grip on his sword, holding it low and keeping his legs slightly bowed.

"I'm not going anywhere! He's too powerful, there's no way that you can face him alone!" Trunks said fiercely. He began to ready his own sword, but stopped dead as the assassin's head snapped in his direction and fixed him with eyes full of cold fury.

"I just killed one version of my child. I will not watch a second one die needlessly," he said. Trunks knew that tone well from his father. No matter what I do, he's not going to budge. Dammit. The assassin's gaze softened slightly. "I know how to handle opponents like him. I… may have been holding back while I was sparring with your father."

"O-okay," Trunks said. He took a deep breath. The Emperor finished his transformation and stood before them wearing a savage grin and little else. He barely looks like my father any more. He almost looks like… Broly. This is bad. We're definitely going to need Dad back. He nodded to the assassin and began running back to where his father still lay on the smoking ground.

"You'll pay for what you've done. I will hold your agony up as an example to all of my subjects," the Emperor said to the assassin, his voice deep and menacing. The distant explosions and shouts of combat seemed to punctuate his voice, just as the acrid smoke and dust blew across the huge, iron-hewn muscles of his new form.

The assassin's eyes remained ice cold as a vicious smile spread across his face.

"Assassins do not give examples," he said quietly.