The door to the cargo airlock bent. Golden light began to spill around the edges, casting beams onto the grim faces of the marines in the chamber beyond. The hinges gave one by one, and the door was wrenched from its moorings and thrown far clear of the ship. Without even looking to see what lay beyond, the marines unleashed a storm of ki blasts. Light and projectiles poured from the open wound on the SNS Silence, felling dozens of the Imperials attempting to board. When the volley ended, the enemy surged into the cargo chamber and the real fighting began.

"Admiral Colla!" a voice sounded from her communicator. "We need you on the bridge – the enemy is directly assaulting the Silence."

"I'm well aware," she replied. Pressed flat against the hull of her own ship, the wind blowing through her uniform and spiky black curls, she was already watching the knot of invaders attempting to push their way into the cargo hold. "I'll be handling this situation personally."

I'll let my marines handle a few boarders. I'll let the fighters tear apart their stragglers. But a massed attack on my ship? That's not business any more. That's personal.

The company of Imperial Saiyans was so preoccupied with the fight inside of the ship that they had left their flank nearly blind. Only one man, half-occupied himself, saw one of the enemy tracing a strange arc around the force still hovering outside. He watched, puzzled, as it suddenly seemed to be surrounded by five smoking motes of light. It was only when the enemy's voice reached him, and the first mote came speeding toward their reinforcements, that he realized what he was seeing.

"Boarding Cannon!" the Admiral's voice boomed. The first mote detonated, sending shards of ki slicing through the assembled Imperials. As they tried to recover, the Admiral sprayed the remaining motes from successive vectors on her path. The explosions blanketed the unfortunate corrupted Saiyans, sending controlled bursts of shrapnel through flesh and bone alike. The beauty of the attack, which the targets would never appreciate, was that every shard immediately faded a certain distance from the epicenter. They also could not pierce alloy. The result was a flag rank punt gun that could decimate boarders and anyone else stupid enough to get in the way, while leaving the ship immaculate. Without their reinforcements to continue the momentum, the remaining Imperials were hurled bodily from the ship, some still alive and some not. The marines, though bloodied and battered, were cheering as the Admiral flew up to the torn-open chamber. To a soldier, they immediately stopped and came to attention. She inspected them, seeing with satisfaction that they had taken no fatalities.

"Marines," she said sharply. They straightened up, looking significantly more afraid of their own officer then they had been of the enemy. The inside of the chamber was suddenly lit up as an anti-personnel torpedo exploded nearby, illuminating the Admiral's triumphant grin. "We really kicked their asses, didn't we?"

"Yes, Admiral!" they chorused in response, obviously relieved. Don't worry, boys. If I thought you were slacking, I wouldn't be floating out here.

"I'm coming back in. Tell the repair crews to bolt something in place until we can get to a drydock," the Admiral said, flying in and coming to a stop at the internal exit to the cargo chamber. The marines hastily got out of the way, one hitting the door toggle and then saluting. The Admiral nodded in acknowledgement, and then stepped into the hallway. "And relay to the fleet to launch all remaining fighters. We don't have the luxury of holding back any longer."

"Please confirm, Admiral?" the communications officer said. Colla fought down a surge of annoyance. It's her job to do that, just restate the order.

"Launch all fighters and non-garrison marines, fleet-wide," the Admiral said. The hallway was abuzz with repair crews rushing back toward the ruptured chamber and pilots racing toward one of the six hangars on board the Silence. The floor underneath her bucked as a nearby explosion rocked her ship. "The grunts aren't the only ones who know how to hide their true power. I want these corrupted copies to know what happens when you face the Sadala Navy!"

DRAGON BALL EXODUS

Universe 15 Saga XI: The Sin of Pride

TRUNKS

"I can't thank you enough," the boy said. His father slept at his feet, almost fully healed.

"Don't worry about it," Strap said, flustered. She blushes a lot easier than Mom. It's kind of funny. The last of the nanites returned itself to the container at her hip, which then self-sealed. "Just give him a few more minutes for the antidote to finish its job and wake him up. Meanwhile, I'm out of here."

"Good call," Trunks said.

"Bulma?" Strap asked. She wore a scouter that looked weirdly organic and decidedly non-spec, the result of ordering her nanites to copy Bulma's technology without a blueprint. "Can you drop a portal at my location? O-Oh! Yeah, he's fine! No, mine's fighting him now. Or about to."

Abruptly, she started laughing. Trunks would have looked at her quizzically, but something caught his eye. A small shuttle was descending slowly from the sparse clouds, somehow finding an island of calm in the midst of the raging battle. The blue light of a portal glared in the corner of his vision. The voice of his not-Mother, still amicably chatting with his actual mother, suddenly cut off. When Trunks looked down again, all he saw was his father and bits of blue glimmer floating in the air. When the vessel touched down, smoothly and without any hurry, Trunks found himself staring at it in fascination. That symbol on the side, that's the same one on Cabba's uniform. And the shuttle looks special. The paint is fresh, and you can tell that everything has been polished to a shine. Some kind of VIP?

"Trunks. Give me a hand," Vegeta said hoarsely. The boy nearly jumped, then realized that his father was stretching out a hand toward him. Without hesitation, Trunks pulled him to his feet. The former prince looked pale, but uninjured. "I feel like I've got a hangover. Just wait until I find that girl, I'm going to teach her the lesson in manners that her father neglected."

"She's dead," Trunks said. Vegeta saw the certainty in his soot-grimed face and immediately looked disappointed.

"That's a shame. Was it you?" Vegeta asked. Silently and smoothly, the main hatch of the shuttle came open and a set of stairs unfolded. A figure in an ornate robe began to emerge.

"No. I only cut her hand off," Trunks said absently, peering at the strange figure. Vegeta blinked, and then turned to see what his son was staring at. A figured stepped away from the glaring light inside of the shuttle and into the darkened, smoky field, resolving into a Saiyan only slightly taller than Vegeta, with an oddly similar hairstyle and a goatee. He… kind of looks like the Emperor. He kind of looks like my father. But he's not, you can tell. His nose is different. His eyes aren't quite the same. A thin band of what looked to be polished platinum rested atop the man's head.

"Your majesty," Vegeta said, managing a tone that was respectful, but not too respectful.

"Prince Vegeta," the man replied. He continued to stride forward, unhurried. "We are all royalty here, there is no need for styles. You've already figured out who I am."

"The King of Sadala," Vegeta replied. The what?! Trunks cleared his throat and shot a questioning look in his father's direction. "From Universe Six, Trunks. Sadala in our universe was dead and gone long ago."

"Correct. I am Legomo, the sixth of my name. General Cabba spoke highly of you. He says that it was you we have to thank for introducing the Super Saiyan transformation," the King said. He met the former prince's gaze evenly. "The same transformation that led to our recent civil war and my government being overthrown for almost three weeks."

"You'll get no apology from me. I did nothing but unlock potential that was already there," Vegeta replied, folding his arms in front of his chest. His left side was abruptly lit up with intense yellow light, emerging from a growing mushroom cloud in the distance. That's… a tactical nuclear weapon. Whoa, where did all of those space fighters come from?

"Indeed. I have to wonder – this potential, is this why the Saiyans of your universe were subject to genocide?" the King asked. Vegeta's face instantly darkened. Oh crap. Please don't talk about that. Dad's a little…

"Of course it was!" Vegeta shouted, advancing on the King. "Frieza feared us. He feared what we could do. But in the end, even though he killed almost every Saiyan alive, it was a Saiyan who killed him. He's died four times, all to Saiyan hands."

"How does a being die more than once?" the King asked, casting a doubtful expression on the former prince.

"Son Goku killed him the first time. He was resurrected with cybernetics once, and then got cut in half by a future version of myself," Trunks said helpfully. The King stared at him, his face carefully neutral. A few meters behind all of them, a Pride Trooper slammed into the ground, followed quickly by an Imperial Super Saiyan. The Trooper rolled out of the way of the descending kick and then the two of them resumed their pitched battle. Vegeta, Trunks, and the King barely reacted at all. It's a little too easy to get used to this stuff. Maybe that psychologist had a point. "The Frieza Force then used the Dragon Balls to resurrect him, and then Son Goku killed him again. The third time, he was resurrected by Whis and then… well… Son Goku killed him a third time."

"He was the one who destroyed your planet…" the King trailed off, at a loss.

"Planet Vegeta," said the former prince. The King raised an eyebrow.

"You are Prince Vegeta… of Planet Vegeta," the King said.

"I didn't choose either name," Vegeta replied. The snarling and occasional cries of pain of the two combatants nearby became more intense. Without looking, the former prince raised one finger and let loose a blast. It went straight through the throat of the unfortunate Imperial, leaving his Pride Trooper opponent frozen with surprise. He immediately dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. His transformation began to fade. "That's better. Look, perhaps we should have this discussion at a later ti-"

The sudden flare of power from the distance, lit up in a strange mixture of gold and green, erased everything else from their thoughts.

THE ASSASSIN

He's huge. He's tough. He's stronger than me. The only good part is: he's slow.

The Emperor, despite the enormous power emanating from his now huge form, was suffering. A myriad of cuts lined up and down his body, each bleeding slowly. The assassin had yet to hit anything vital, as the mutated Saiyan's body was nearly as tough as steel. Even the painstakingly constructed alloy blade, whetted to an absurd sharpness by Strap's nanites, wasn't enough to create real injury. Despite being a bloody mess, the corrupted royal had only suffered cosmetic damage. The assassin, for his part, had not taken a single blow. The enraged Emperor had taken to swinging wildly and stomping, occasionally firing barrages of ki blasts. I can evade him easily, but I can barely hurt him.

A whirling cascade of sword strikes left tracks of weeping cuts down one enormous arm, but the giant didn't strike back. One of his tendons was nicked, a pale flash against his great green and gold aura. The giant still did not strike back. It was when the assassin went for the Emperor's eyes that one huge hand flew up and closed around him. It then squeezed. Hard.The assassin cried out in pain as his bones ground together, his body starting to compact against itself. Then, the pressure stopped increasing and simply held. A huge thumb and forefinger came into his vision, pinched the blade of his sword, and pulled it from his nerveless grasp. With a casual flick, the Emperor snapped the sword in half and tossed both pieces over his shoulder. Deep echoing laughter came from him as he reared his fist back and threw the assassin into the dirt, leaving a plume of dust and a spider's web of cracks in the charred clay.

The assassin struggled to his feet, his entire body screaming in pain. He glanced at the shattered blade, the finest gift that his wife had even given to him. A surge of anger rose up, and then was almost immediately extinguished by force of will.Despite the danger, he inhaled a deep breath. Anger. Despair. Fear. Meaningless. He exhaled, his face becoming a mask. Danger. Death. Extinction. The way of all things. He stood straight and tall before the triumphant Emperor, staring up at him with blank eyes. I am not a Saiyan who kills. I am the killing itself. The fight does not matter. The outcome does not matter. The only thing that matters is intent.

"Poor little assassin," the Emperor boomed mockingly. The subtle glow beginning to emerge from the agile Saiyan's form escaped his notice. "What will you do without your sword? Shall I give you time to find a new one? It will make no difference."

"I do not need a weapon," the assassin said softly. The glow began to intensify, limning his form with the color of darkened silver, chrome shot through with veins of black. His hair began to lighten, turning steel-like and sharp. The Emperor, looking down, could suddenly see his own reflection in the polished metal of his opponent's eyes. For the first time since the battle began, the corrupted Saiyan's face showed uncertainty. The assassin's next words seemed to linger in the air with a strange metallic echo. "I am not the one who holds the sword. I am the sword."

Before the Emperor could respond, the assassin seemingly disappeared. A ghostly blade manifested and swung from out of nowhere, and inflicted the first real wound of the fight. The Emperor bellowed in pain as the spirit weapon cut deeply into him. He lashed out, and was rewarded only by seeing traces of a nebulous outline, followed by another sharp pain. Ki flared around the Emperor, rising in a blast of green and gold fire up to the sky itself. Ki blasts sprayed from his form in massive numbers, saturating the entire area. As the corrupted ruler watched in increasing rage and frustration, the assassin's form seemed to dodge and weave in impossible ways, finding openings in the storm where none could have possibly been. Finally, dangerously low on ready ki, the Emperor stopped his attack. Giving no warning, the assassin's presence suddenly manifested behind him. In less than a second, all of the tendons of the Emperor's left leg had been precisely severed. Screaming, he fell forward onto one knee and his hands. Raw power still rose from his form like steam, but with one leg completely disabled, his fight was all but over.

"You cannot defeat me! I am the destiny of this Universe!" the Emperor roared. A massive beam shot from his mouth, striking the last trace of the assassin and obliterating it. When the beam dissipated, the actual assassin reappeared, hovering away from the wounded Emperor. Enough. I'm done here. The assassin raised his hands, the long ghostly blade suddenly reappearing again. Energy surged into the ki weapon, solidifying more and more until it formed a shining beam of condensed energy. For an instant, it hummed with intent, its surface seeming to swirl with an ocean of liquid steel. With one deft movement, the assassin spent all of the energy rending the air itself, leaving a crackling crescent of ki so sharp that it could not be seen if viewed edgewise. Holding the blade out to the side, he raised a palm behind the gleaming scythe-blade.

"Your death is my business. Not many have the privilege of dying to this technique. Feel honored, Emperor. Final Slash!" the assassin said. His words again left echoes in the air, and the only emotion in his mask-like face was the horrible, unquenchable certainty behind his eyes. A seemingly mild pulse of energy from his palm made the scythe fly forward at nearly the speed of light. The Emperor made no sound, but his eyes widened. A heartbeat passed, and then two. The corrupted Saiyan's gaze glassed over, and his massive body fell to the ground in two parts, cut straight down the middle and neatly cauterized. The assassin closed his eyes, and by force of will returned himself to normal. Immediately, he felt nauseated and shaky, cold sweat pooling under his dark suit.

"Ultra Instinct," Vegeta's voice said from behind him. The assassin realized that he was no longer alone. Three ki signatures? The anger and disbelief in Vegeta's tone were unmistakable. "How in the hell did you figure out Ultra Instinct?"

"I apparently did what you never managed to do," the assassin snapped, turning and fixing his counterpart with an unsteady glare. I'm tired of dealing with him. The Emperor was evil, but this Prince? He's a jerk! God powers, beautiful wife, rich as hell, part of a family that owns half of a planet, and he's perpetually angry and miserable. I kill people for a living, and I enjoy life more than he does. "I let it all go."

"Let it all go," Vegeta repeated. Standing next to him, Trunks looked intensely uncomfortable. "What in the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"The ego. The conditioning. The fucking monarchy," the Assassin said. "If you're still thinking of yourself as Vegeta-sama, you won't be able to learn it. You won't even be able to conceive of it. And maybe… that's how it's supposed to be. I told you. I have what I need. Do you believe me now?"

Vegeta's reply was interrupted by the King, who had approached while the two were arguing.

"First Super Saiyan, and then Super Saiyan God, and now this?" King Legomo said. He shook his head. "How many more wars will we need? We already have more power than we could possibly use."

"You don't know that," Vegeta said, turning to face the monarch. "There's always another threat. A bigger threat."

"People who can use what I just used aren't the type to start wars," the assassin said. As he spoke, Vegeta suddenly turned back to the Emperor's still smoking body. The Prince stared at it suspiciously. The body had returned to its original size in death. Now that it has reverted, it looks exactly like either of us, cut in half. It's… a little unnerving.

"He can't still be alive," Vegeta said. "Can any of you feel that? Power is gathering around him. He may not be dead."

"He appears to be cut in half," the King said dubiously.

"Scouter's not showing any signs of power, Dad," Trunks said. He peered at the bisected corpse.

"No. It can't be," Vegeta said. He continued to stare at what used to be the Emperor. As they watched, an odd haze of white light began to appear around the fallen Saiyan's body. Angrily, Vegeta pulled the crystal from a pocket in his armor. "Atua! Why am I sensing godly ki down here?"

ATUA

"I-I don't know," the Supreme Kai said, staring at the burgeoning universe. The outburst had drawn the attention of everyone in the vicinity, from the Kais to the Gods of Destruction to the Angels to High Priest himself. The most powerful assortment of divines ever seen in the multiverse converged around one pudgy, less than confident Kai acting as a conduit for an irate Saiyan. "I mean, there's no way that… wait."

"It appears as though the universe is concentrating the ki that it stole, focusing it into a single point," High Priest said, staring into the projection jewel of his ornate staff.

"How? A universe is an abstract concept, a representation of finite events in infinite space," Sour said.

"Assume that the universe has become sapient," said Cognac. More than a few pairs of eyes widened at this.

"If it can think for itself, it will want to survive," said Liquiir. He hovered near the other Gods of Destruction, his red and white tails swinging rapidly with agitation. "It may empower an agent to assist with this."

"But if their enemy is imbued with godly ki, in a universe where Vegeta can't harness it…" Maizcal trailed off, closing his eyes. "We're screwed."

"I can hear everything that you're saying," Vegeta's voice sounded from the crystal. Atua gasped and removed his finger from the toggle. Not for the first time, he was on the receiving end of a host of dirty looks from his fellow deities. "Atua, or anybody really, if it comes down to it, can you transport something out of the corrupt universe? Something that came from it in the first place?"

"Theoretically, yes," Atua said. "But it would have the same property as anything else in that universe."

"It would be completely incompatible with godly life," said Gowasu, his lined face grave. "We can transport it, but we would have to send it well away from ourselves."

"That doesn't matter to me," Vegeta's voice said after Atua had relayed Gowasu's words. "I just want to know one thing. If it is removed from its own universe, can it still absorb godly ki? Specifically, from a mortal?"

"No," Gowasu replied, motioning for Atua to keep the channel open. "It is the universe that hungers, not its puppets. The removed being would have an immediate corrupting effect on any actual deity, but a mortal? Doubtful."

"Then we have a plan. The universe is apparently bringing the Emperor back," Vegeta said. "His body is starting to regenerate, and there's a mass of godly ki protecting him from us. We have to assume that he will emerge as a Super Saiyan God. We have fighters down here that might be able to defeat him, but if they can't… I'm going to get in physical contact. When I give the word, transport me and whatever I'm touching way the hell away from the universe and away from all of you. Let me handle the rest."

"That's not going to work," said Maizcal. He looked thoughtful, and then grinned. "Reis, is it okay if I consider Vegeta a God of Destruction candidate? Just for today?"

The angel, standing with the rest of her family, turned to stare at the Saiyan god in shock.

"You… actually came up with a good idea," she said, faintly. "Give me a moment."

"Reis, just give me a straight answer. This is serious," the god said.

"Yes. I give permission," Reis said. Maizcal looked triumphantly at the group of Supreme Kais.

"You transport him and his enemy somewhere that they won't be disturbed, and I'll lend our guy some of my own power," Maizcal said. As if to illustrate his enthusiasm, little bolts of gold and violet began to travel over his body as his excitement grew. The other gods began to slowly back away, leaving him in the middle of a small clearing. "That should be the end of it. Only one question, though."

"Yes?" Atua asked hesitantly.

"Where did the universe get all of this godly energy from?" the god asked. Atua blinked. Is he serious? He is. He already forgot. I have no words for this.

Reis made a sound suspiciously like a sob and turned her back to both of them. Wearing an expression of great sympathy, Whis reached over and patted her on the shoulder.

VEGETA

The whirling mass of godly ki continued to aggregate, becoming brighter and brighter. Vegeta watched with his arms folded in front of his chest, looking for any sign of something emerging. Next to him, his Universe Fifteen counterpart and his son stood, unable to sense the potent forces gathering in front of them, but well equipped to see their manifestation.

"Would all of you mind moving away from the center of that thing?" a female voice said over their scouters. That was one of Cabba's people. Admiral Colla. "The main cannon of the Silence is currently trained on it, and… well… I don't know if you've noticed, but we tend to hit hard. Wouldn't want any of you to get injured now."

"Whoever she's talking to, listen to her. Don't get in the way of those guns," Cabba's voice came from Vegeta's scouter. He could hear the sounds of pitched combat in the background. Somehow, the conflict between the various forms of the Prince had become isolated from the rest of the battle, an eye of the storm wrought from blood. Vegeta could see flashes of light and dark figures clashing across the entire horizon, and knew that far more was obscured by the smoke hanging thick over the battlefield. He and Trunks flew to where King Legomo stood, well away from the Emperor. Vegeta turned immediately to watch the ruler's chrysalis once more. His surveillance was cut short by a sound like a thousand panes of glass shattering at once.

A hand reached out from the storm, followed by a foot. An arm and a leg followed, and then suddenly the Emperor was pulling himself free of his cocoon, a manic and triumphant smile on his face. His eyes and hair… pure red. Just as I thought – a Super Saiyan God.

"My destiny cannot be denied," the Emperor whispered, his voice carrying like a creeping chill on the backs of all who heard it. "A King may hold his crown by divine right, but an Emperor is the will of the universe itself!"

A pulse of godly energy flew from the Emperor's form, a red ring of force that flew out and threw everything it touched into the air. Vegeta transformed and brought himself to full power. The assassin seemed to vanish, leaving only a wispy trace. The great wave of crimson force approached them rapidly, and Vegeta could see that it was leaving nothing but cracked black glass in its wake.

"Trunks. Whatever you do, do not give in to this attack. It will kill you," Vegeta said. He braced himself, infusing every possible part of his body with ki. He glanced over, to see his son staring at the coming attack with naked fear. Dammit, boy. You boasted of surviving a war, and now a single god has you scared? "No. On second thought, go ahead and give up. You're obviously not ready for this."

Trunks growled something under his breath, and his aura flared with gold once again. Vegeta suppressed a satisfied grin.

The wave was less than a second away from striking both father and son when the Silence finally fired its main cannon. A beam of searing white light, not of ki but of raw reactor-generated energy, enveloped the Emperor. The ruler's wave of force collapsed instantly, leaving a ring of dust rising into the air. The corrupted ruler, bathed in the most powerful attack that the Sadala Navy had, let out a roar that increased in volume until his voice alone was shaking the ground beneath him. The roar abruptly cut off. Vegeta watched in fascination. Did she actually do it? Is he gone?

There was a sudden flare of light. Blue light. Pure blue light that shone in defiant beams from within the heart of Colla's final attack. There was an intense pulse of blue and gold, and then suddenly a beam even more massive than the main cannon was traveling quickly back toward the Silence.

"Oh no. No no no," Trunks said, staring up at the ship. The beam of nearly pure blue struck the bow of the massive battleship. For a few seconds, it seemed like the beam had no effect. Then the flanks of the battleship began to glow white-hot. With a spray of molten alloy, the beam emerged unhindered from the other side of the Silence, impaling it completely and continuing on well past the threshold of space. Explosions rocked the flagship and it immediately began to fall from the sky. The warriors in the air, Imperials and Sadala Navy alike, suddenly gave the dying ship a wide berth.

"Cabba… finish this bastard…" Colla's voice over the scouter was distorted, and the transmission ended with a burst of static as the fusion reactor of the Silence lost containment. The ship broke apart violently in a silent ball of white fire, illuminating the entire battlefield brighter than the sun. The ground forces had stopped mid-fight to stare, every conflict suspended as the pieces of the mighty flagship of Sadala began to rain from the sky, trailing fire and smoke.

"This is Crescendo Actual. As per protocol, I am taking command," a male voice said over their scouters. "All ships withdraw, sphere formation centered on the Crescendo. Fighters and marines – screen the ships. Do not engage the enemy unless fired upon."

Emerging from the last assault of the Silence unharmed, the Emperor's hair stood sharp and blue. His aura seemed to howl with power. Abruptly, his head swung to one side. A piercing beam of ki shot from his outstretched finger, missing all of the allied forces by a wide margin. As the beam dissipated, blood seemingly began to run from the air itself. An instant later, the assassin flickered into existence and fell, coughing blood onto his dark suit. He landed hard on his back, gasping. The beam had gone straight through, leaving a smoking hole in his chest. Trunks ran for him, already calling for a portal on his scouter. Vegeta stared at his corrupted analogue numbly. Super Saiyan Blue. But even more powerful than that. The universe bet everything on him. Everything. Even if Atua teleports us both away, can I still defeat him? Even with Maizcal's power?

A new star came into existence in the air above them. That's Cabba! What is he doing? Vegeta heard the King gasp as they watched Cabba transform, becoming bestial and with a cascade of golden hair down to his lower back. Super Saiyan Three?! No wonder he was able to win that war. But it's nothing compared to the power he's up against. The general, his uniform straining at the seams from his new bulk, crooked his hands at his sides with a savage snarl.

"Gallic Railgun!" he shouted, ejecting a massive fount of energy toward the Emperor. For the second time, the Emperor was bathed in a seemingly unstoppable attack. This time, it wasn't a roar that sounded from inside of the great beam. It was laughter. It grew louder and louder as Cabba burned through his energy maintaining the attack; pouring everything he had into it. Finally, the beam stuttered and then seemed to evaporate. The Emperor stared up at the general with savage amusement, untouched. He reached out, and Cabba immediately began to struggle, fighting against some invisible force. The Emperor clenched his fist, and the very air around the general seemed to explode in a ball of blue fire. When it faded, Vegeta saw that Cabba was barely conscious, his uniform all but charred away and his ki completely depleted. His transformation abruptly faded and he dropped from the sky. A green-gold blur caught him and then landed beside Vegeta.

"Super Saiyan Blue, huh?" said Kefla, gently putting Cabba on the ground. The general groaned and lay still, smoke rising from his burned form. "You'll need more than that to stop me."

"It is strong," a flat voice said. Shaking the earth as he touched down, Jiren regarded the Emperor with open disgust. The Pride Trooper's uniform was ripped and he was covered with soot stains. "As before, I am stronger."

The Emperor lifted off into the air, eyes and hair the color of a clear summer sky. Before him, three of the most powerful fighters that the multiverse had ever known were allied against him. The Emperor smiled down at them, almost benevolently.

"You will be my sacrifices," the Emperor said. His voice boomed out across the black earth. "Be honored – your deaths will bring a new age to the multiverse."

Kefla was the first to attack, and the first to fall. She wouldn't be the last.