Author's note: Hi everyone. I hope while we're all in quarantines of some ilk, I can push through and finish this story. Thank you to all of you who review or leave a comment in particular, because you boost morale. This also applies to stories that are not this one. I highly encourage you to review any story you read that you've enjoyed, because you never know what the heck is going on in the author's life.

I love all of you! Please stay safe.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Goten knew Mount Paozu's forests like he knew the back of his hand, but that was the problem: so did Trunks. The two of them spent so much time playing hide and seek together that Trunks knew all of his tracking methods, and he knew how to thwart them. He settled on the branch of a nearby tree and sniffed the air to see if the wind could offer any clues to Trunks' whereabouts, but it could only offer him whiffs of his scent leading in every direction.

Typical. Evading Goten's nose was a fool's errand, so Trunks wound his path in circles and touched everything in his path in the hopes that he could confuse Goten with an overload of false positives. Sometimes, it worked. Usually, it didn't. But it always dragged the search out, and forced Goten to be stealthy as the seeker as well as the hider. Trunks made a habit to evade Goten by closely following him for a majority of his search. He was probably very, very near.

Goten lighted on a tree branch and scratched his head. He could call out for Trunks, and ask that he please come out and talk, but knowing Trunks, even if he wanted to do exactly that, he'd stubbornly refuse to the moment Goten- or anybody- asked.

Something small and snowy white cut through the tree line to his right, and then journeyed into the clearing beneath Goten's feet. Calliope. Her hunched shoulders and nervous glances over her shoulder reminded Goten of a squirrel seeking a safe stash for the winter. When she crouched down at the base of a tree and thrust her hands into the soil, his mental image became that much more complete.

"Hey," he said, leaping down from the tree.

Calliope jumped to her feet, and whirled around to face Goten with wide eyes. She held something clutched in her hands, and frantically pulled it to the opposite side of her body from Goten, like she could hide it.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Calliope winced, trembling, and looked left and right for an escape, her hands still clenched around something.

"I know you can't tell me if you've got your hands full, so go ahead and finish hiding whatever you have there," said Goten. "I'll turn around and not look, if it's that important."

Calliope wilted to the ground and started sobbing, her head shaking from side to side. She held out her hands and opened them to show Goten. Inside was a small piece of brown paper holding a tiny white pill.

Goten sniffed, and then backed away. Whatever it was, it was vile in its sweetness and slightly metallic, and reminded him of the chemicals his mother stored beneath the sink and told him never to touch.

"Poison," he said. "That's bad! What are you doing with that? If you leave it out here, some animal will eat it and die, and then whatever eats that animal might die, too! We've gotta get rid of it, but not here!"

Calliope clutched her head with one of her hands, and started nodding vigorously.

"Where did you find that?"

"Necklace," Calliope signed.

"Necklace? Sevoya's necklace?!" said Goten, agog. "Why?!"

Calliope shrugged, and then put the pill on the ground, still in its paper, and began signing out something more complicated. Goten watched in rapt attention, and tried to pick out what he knew.

"Vegeta," he said. "For Vegeta. You wanted to poison Vegeta?"

"Yes," signed Calliope, beside herself. "I thought I did! But I couldn't do it! And now, he's gone! Everyone will think I did it!"

"But you didn't poison him," summarized Goten.

"No," signed Calliope. "But that's what it looks like!"

"Nuh-uh. Not if we give back the poison and explain everything," reasoned Goten. "You couldn't have poisoned Trunk's dad if you still have the poison. Doesn't make sense."

"I don't want Trunks and his mother to know! They'll hate me! Or worse, they'll think I want to poison them, too!"

"Do you?" asked Goten.

"No!" signed Calliope, adamant.

Goten relaxed.

"Well, that's good."

"Cruel," signed Calliope. "A cruel man. Vegeta. He hurt Terpsichore. He hurts people. He wants to." She clenched her fists.

"Hateful," she signed. "Cruel man. I don't trust him. How can Trunks?"

Goten frowned, and looked up at the sky. He didn't have much experience with hate- not like Trunks did. He never had the same twisting feeling in his stomach that sometimes twinkled malevolently in the back of Trunks' eyes when something didn't go his way, or urged him to keep kicking an opponent when they were already down.

"You could ask him," said Goten.

Calliope wiped at the tear tracks on her face.

"...What?"

"You could ask him. He's probably been listening in on us."

Calliope froze.

"What?"

"Right, Trunks?" Goten called to the clearing. "I know you're nearby."

A sudden crash and echoing shout sounded from a nearby treetop.

"Yes!" screamed Trunks, his eyes red and hair mussed by the wind as he leapt from a nearby pine.

His feet hit the ground with a heavy thud. In his hands was a pine branch as big as he was. Trunks shattered it with a sudden flex of his fingers, and the furiously wiped at his face.

"Yes, I am, so shut up, Goten! Shut up! Just shut up!"

Bits of pinecones, needles, and grass stripped from the ground as he stormed across the clearing. He came to a stop in front of Calliope, who shrank to the ground like a wilting flower beneath the weight of a torrential rain. His lurid glare rooted her to the spot from over his crossed arms and splayed feet, and even Goten had to admit that, right now, Trunks looked every bit his father's son.

"Well?" spat Trunks, after a moment's silence. "You wanted to ask me something?"

Calliope's pale face twitched. She looked as though she might be sick.

"Well?!" demanded Trunks, again.

Calliope's breath came in short, uneven bursts as she stared at the ground in search of some kind of answer. Goten was about to step in and ask Trunks to stop, which he knew might make it worse, when Calliope's face suddenly smoothed over into an emotionless mask, and her mouth set into a hard line. She raised her eyes to meet Trunks', and signed to him.

"Goten, what did she say?!"

"Um," Goten muttered.

Calliope signed again.

"Man. Trust. How, uh, how do you trust that man?" said Goten.

Calliope nodded.

"What do you mean? He's my father," said Trunks.

"Meaningless," Calliope argued, with Goten as her mouthpiece.

"Shut up! What would you know? He's my father," repeated Trunks.

Calliope signed the same, with emphasis, and continued. Goten swallowed and did his best to follow.

"That means nothing. My father and mother, um," Goten stuttered, and shook his head. "I don't know that next one."

Calliope tried something else.

"Garbage? Threw away. My father and mother threw me away."

Calliope nodded.

Trunks' upper lip snarled, and his neck turned red. "Yeah? Well, I would too!"

Calliope raised her head higher, and signed.

"Liar," said Goten. "You're lying."

"I would!" screamed Trunks, now red in the face and shaking.

He grabbed Calliope by the collar and pulled her to her feet.

"I would, you piece of crap! I would! I would! I'd, I-I'd-!"

He raised a fist like he might strike Calliope. Then, it turned into an orb of hot, threatening light.

Calliope's hands stayed by her side, so whatever she may have wanted to say wasn't certain, but her steady gaze into Trunks' eyes spoke volumes. And Goten, who knew better than to egg Trunks on by asking him to stop, realized that not only had he and Calliope put their faith in the same place, but they had done so correctly.

Slowly, the light went out, and Trunks lowered his fist. He released Calliope, and knelt to the ground in a fresh fit of sobs.

The breeze hushing through the trees did nothing to quiet him or soothe him. It simply made the pines sway like so many witnesses kneeling over a tragedy they could do nothing about. Trunks wailed with the wind, and tears ran down his face like a stream. He didn't quiet until he wore himself out, and even then, spasms and sobs drew quiet, pathetic moans from his throat. Eventually, the tight ball he'd coiled himself into loosened, and he sat, empty-eyed, staring out over the clearing.

Calliope began signing, and signalled for Goten to interpret. These phrases were harder. She had to go slowly, and repeat herself, and let the boy digest what she was saying.

"I'm sorry," said Goten. "I did not want to hurt. I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't. Safe. I want you to be safe. I," he cocked his head, and tried his best for the next part, "am not strong like you. Protect. I thought I could protect you with… this. I was wrong. I won't do it again"

Calliope nodded, and reiterated: "I am sorry."

She stood, bowed, and made to leave, but Trunks reached out and grabbed the hem of her clothing like a snake striking from the grass in a wild-eyed panic.

"Everyone," he said, gasping, "everyone hates my father, but I don't know why! You said he was cruel! You are the only one to say it to my face, and say why! But he thought you were the enemy! So why? Why else?! Why everyone else?! Why hasn't anyone else told me before?! Why didn't my mom? Why didn't he?!"

"You don't tell your mom everything you did wrong, do you?" asked Goten.

Trunks spun around to face him, confusion all over his features. Goten shrugged.

"I mean, I guess it's like that. People don't like to talk about what they do wrong all the time. That's my best guess, anyway."

"Do you hate him, too, Goten?" asked Trunks, his voice softening and rising in pitch all at once.

Goten realized he did have experience with hate, after all. He hated watching Trunks do this to himself. Hated it. It gnawed away at him to know that Trunks could make himself suffer so much, and make himself so fragile inside. He hated it even more that, when it was at its worst, Trunks was at his meanest. Helplessness and doubt were not Trunks' true self, but they were his inheritance, and they shaped him.

"No," said Goten. "But even if I did, it doesn't change that you and I are friends."

Trunks looked at the ground, his brows furrowed, and toyed with a piece of splintered bark on the ground with his foot. It crumbled into fragments, like a chocolate bar shattering along its molded lines. He still clutched Calliope's sleeve, and didn't let go until she sat down next to him again. Goten took his other side, and the three of them listened to the wind in the trees, and the birds on the mountain. A handful of monkeys and deer in the area watched the three of them with dark, curious eyes before darting out of sight.

"Do you think," Trunks asked, after a few moments, "He'll come back?"

Goten looked to Calliope, who nodded, and looked out over the tree line to the west, like she could see past it and to the other side of the world, where Gohan and Terpsichore might be standing on Dende's tower.

"Yup," said Goten. "Everyone turns up around here at some point."

The podium rose from the stage like an impenetrable tower of glossed wood high above the worries of the rest of the world. It brought a certain majesty and impenetrable calm to The King of the World's greying profile as he stood above it, even as Erato noticed his claws digging into the wooden sides like he might rip through it in a burst of nervous energy.

Not that Erato could rival him. He knew his face was still pale, and any bravado he could muster did nothing to straighten his shoulders any more than the padded suit Urania requested for him. His eyes begged to stare at the toes of his shoes, and not ahead at the crowd of cameras preparing to broadcast to the world. He failed to even muster shame for the handcuffs over his wrists.

While Erato himself may still be branded an outcast, The King of the World was going to publicly recognize the Circle of the Inner Flame as an ally, and lend legitimacy to his cause. This was the moment that, in many ways, Erato had been working towards for most of his life, and he was barely more than a ghostly presence at his journey's apex. He cursed himself for his weak heart.

He slid his eyes towards Dende, who stood just offstage, and discovered that the Guardian was staring right back at him.

Urania, who stood to Erato's left in a gauzy cream gown, reached for his hand, and squeezed it.

"Look at the camera," she whispered. "It's about to start. You can do this. All you need to do is be present."

Erato turned to look at the camera. Everything appeared too sharp and vivid and yet hazy all at once, like a dream passing before his eyes. He blinked placidly as the cameraman signalled the countdown, and the light flashed from red to green. The teleprompter to his left scrolled through the words the King read aloud in a parade of white on black.

Furry silently tapped his toe behind the podium five times, and then began.

"People of the world," he said, "I speak to you today during this time of strife for two reasons. I want to remind you that even in the darkest of times, it is the cooperative and loving spirit that overcomes. On Earth, we are as one, and our pride in our global community inspires within us acts of selflessness and compassion without bounds. I am sure our recent global catastrophes have shaken many of your confidences in the state of the world, but if the response to such horrors within the past 36 hours has proven anything to me, it is this: We as a people are united to help our neighbors, our towns, our cities, and our future. In love, we are limitless, and with love, we are indomitable. I cannot begin to express the pride I feel in having the honor to lead the fine people of Earth, and how thankful I am to have you as neighbors, friends, and my personal inspiration.

The second reason I come before you today is to inform you of a truth long kept hidden- not only from you, but from myself, until very recently. What I am about to say will come as a shock, but I believe that as a unified world, we can take this, as we have taken so many surprises, in stride, and become stronger for it. However, it requires a prolonged explanation."

The King gestured to his left, where Erato and Urania stood behind him.

"As you can see, Erato Zinfandel, the terrorist responsible for the incident at the Tenkaichi Budokai, head of Circorp Insurance and Medical, and leader of the Circle of the Inner Flame, has turned himself in. He has voluntarily relinquished all his assets to the Worldwide government for relief aid at this time. He cooperates with us under the understanding that I sanction the relief efforts offered by his organization, The Circle of the Inner Flame, as led by Miss Hoshi Bori. I hereby formally authorize their efforts as legitimate, and any obstruction to their administration or receipt of aid based on their association is discrimination, and unlawful. This lenient agreement towards those affiliated with him may disturb many of you, but it is an agreement born of necessity, particularly in light of new information Erato personally delivered to me upon accepting the punishment for his crimes. Again, I emphasize to you the importance of cooperation and understanding in the face of adversity."

At this, Furry fell silent, but his words were like ice water down Erato's back. He swallowed as his swimming mind surfaced to reality. Was this going to work? A simple declaration of legality? A sudden change of the wind in the King's heart, endorsing the Circle's good will? Was this real? Was this a trick? Where was the metaphorical knife? Where was the hole in the floor, quietly waiting to open up and swallow Erato? Who was holding the edge of the rug, and waiting to pull it out from beneath him? He tensed, and looked to his left and right in search of some secret guard, or man in black waiting to snatch Erato and Urania away to some faraway cell in the middle of the ocean. He found the King's regular guard, a cameraman, and Dende, who now held eye contact with Furry.

When nothing happened, Erato realized what it was about the King that rubbed him the wrong way. King Furry let Son Goku quietly exist in secret as a sign of trust. King Furry allowed Dende into his presence as a sign of trust. Furry was a trusting creature first and foremost, and loyal to whomever or whatever he gave that trust. But Erato seriously doubted the people of the world see things the same way. His stomach plummeted as he realized that it didn't matter what he thought: Furry had put it out into the world, and there was no taking it back. Any control Erato may have had was well and truly gone, and while the handcuffs over his wrists may do little, he was shackled in another sense, and that he had asked for them.

The King cleared his throat.

"My people, I am sure I need only remind the youngest of you of the impact King Piccolo's attack had on our planet's collective psyche. I in particular will never forget that demon, nor the fear and destruction he inspired when he destroyed the capital and held me hostage. I will never forget- or forgive- the helplessness and futility he inspired across the globe, and within my heart. In light of those events, I find what I am about to say beyond uncomfortable, but it is the truth, and you deserve to hear it.

Piccolo was… not a demon, not truly, and he was not an anomaly of a creature, either. He was one of an entire race of beings with powers and knowledge different than our own."

King Furry paused, again.

"However, not all of his kind are malignant, and much like King Piccolo called himself a demon, another calls himself a... god. He has requested to address you himself."

Furry held out his arm, and Dende took the stage next to the podium. Gently, he pulled off his white hood to face the cameras. To his credit, the cameraman's expression never changed, but only Dende could possibly know what the broadcasted audience was thinking.

Dende bowed, and smiled quietly at the camera.

"Hello, people of Earth," he said. "Please, do not be afraid. I know my appearance puts many of you at unease, but rest assured, it is my pleasure to speak to all of you. What I am about to say next will not record on the feed, but please listen closely all the same."

Dende clasped his hands and smiled at the camera, and a moment later, Erato could hear his voice in his head. The cameraman's shoulders twitched in surprise.

"It is true that I am the Guardian of Earth, but please do not mistake my position as kami as lording over you. I speak to the heavens on your behalf; I do not control your fates, and I do not know the future. What I do is much more mundane than that. My purpose is to guide the planet as best I can towards the future. The two who held my position before me believed we should never reveal ourselves, but I feel drastic situations call for more direct approaches."

Dende bowed, again, and spoke to the camera.

"My wish is for peace," he said. "In the aftermath of Cell's arrival on Earth, I thought it best to let society decide for itself what brought on its salvation. That the world would choose to deny a certain type of power inside is odd, but a choice, in and of itself. Unfortunately, the planet's current situation has come, at least in part, as a result of this choice. Much as human society has almost split itself into two separate worlds with the divide centered on what you call ki, or flame, or all manner of things, the land has divided itself."

Dende bowed, again.

"I humbly ask you to rethink your prejudices. Love and accept one another. We are all different, with different talents, and no two people need to choose the exact same way to live their lives. But if we are not accepting of these differing needs, we have no future. If we cannot-"

Suddenly, Dende paused, and looked to the roof.

"Something is… here? Does anyone else hear…?"

A few seconds later, Erato heard it, too - a low humming that grew, and grew, and grew into a deafening roar somewhere just above the roof. Dende threw his hands over his ears and hunched over like he'd been struck, and Erato moved in front of Urania and the King like he could shield them from whatever was happening.

Just as suddenly as it began, the roaring stopped. Then, a shower of red-orange sparks flew from the ceiling, and a moment later, the entire roof peeled back to reveal a circular craft emblazoned with the Capsule Corporation logo. Suspended in the air in front of it and holding the edge of the roof like it was nothing more than a page of a book was Vegeta. His dull eyes stared unblinkingly at Dende. A strange metal band encircled his head.

Erato's brows furrowed in confusion, and his stomach twisted itself with dread.

The King turned to the camera and drew a hand over his throat.

"Cut the feed!" he shouted.

"Oh, no you don't!" boomed a familiar voice from a speaker in the craft. "Freeze!"

When Erato heard it, he thought he might vomit. He knew that voice. But it couldn't be. It couldn't.

But he knew that it was.

A flood of floating figures filed in behind the craft, all with orbs of energy focused in their palms and aimed at the King, his staff, and his cameraman. Erato recognized their black suits as the same he'd bought from Capsule Corporation for use in construction and rescue fields. He couldn't recognize any faces from behind the black visors of their helmets, but it didn't matter. Even if they had barely any proficiency with qi at all, the suits drew it out and multiplied it.

A door in the top of the craft popped open, and a moment later, Clio leapt out to stand on the roof. Closely behind him was Melpomene, who flew down to the camera to place a small device on its side. A light on its top pulsed red, and then held green.

"Melpomene!" shouted Erato. "Cray! Fight it! Don't do this!"

"Restrain him," said Clio, unconcerned, and pressed a button on the silver controller looped around his neck.

Melpomene turned impassively towards Erato.

"Cray!" screamed Erato.

Erato was so preoccupied with Melpomene that he failed to notice Vegeta until the man grabbed Erato and held him against the ground in a tight hold. Urania shrieked, and as if on cue, Clio's battalion of black-suited soldiers filed into the room to form tight circles around everyone inside. Dende still kneeled on the ground with his hands over his ears, like he was fighting off a sound only he could hear.

Clio looked around the room, neatly clapped his hands, and then gestured for his soldiers to point the camera at him.

"Hello hello hello helloooooo," he said, splitting into a buck-toothed grin. "So glad to have your attention! And just, totally in awe that you'd spare a minute for widdle ol' me!"

Clio pressed his cheeks like he had dimples when he smiled. He didn't. He paused as if waiting for a laugh track.

Erato struggled fruitlessly against Vegeta, and roared when he didn't get anywhere.

"ZANE!" he screamed. "ZANE! I'll KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU!"

Clio ignored him.

"Anyway, people of Earth, thanks so much for your patience and cooperation while I finish my pick-up. I'll admit, it was a bear to find this broadcasting point, but this new Capsule Corp tech is slick! I mean, it's slick! I knew you guys had quick crafts in development, but this is somethin' else. I cannot wait to send it out into the atmosphere. Speaking of!"

Clio cleared his throat, and then gave a little wave to the camera.

"Hiiiii, Fifteen Stars! I'm in position and ready to deploy. This is my signal! I'll see you at the meeting point when I'm at capacity, so make sure you-!"

Suddenly, the camera exploded in a spectacular array of broken glass. Thick black smoke poured out of the lens, and the cameraman scrambled backwards into the arms of his captors. Clio's wide eyes frantically scanned the ground for the source of the explosion, and then narrowed when they landed on Dende.

The feed on the Son household's dated wooden television suddenly dropped the feed from the King's address and faded to static, which hissed in the gobsmacked silence of the living room until Bulma finally sprang to life like a stray spark suddenly blooming into an enraged flame.

"My ship!" screamed Bulma. "My suits! My employees! My idiot, arrogant, son of a bitch baby daddy! That bastard rabbit, he took-!"

Her teeth clenched, like she had Clio's neck between them and could separate his head from his body.

"That's my name he's dragging through the mud, dammit!"

She pulled out her cell phone and furiously dialed someone before storming out the door. Chi Chi followed her, and stopped the door from slamming against the frame at the last possible second. She slipped out the door, and gently closed it behind her.

Polymnia pointed fingers at the screen, next.

"You see?!" he said. "Hass? Huh? That's the hare that took over your wife's Circle, apparently! That's what she was covering for! Does that look reasonable to you? That look acceptable to you? You think she didn't know exactly what kind of crazy-ass lunacy he was peddling when he-?"

Hass glared and stood to his full height. He loomed over Polymnia.

"What are you trying to say, Julian?"

"I'm saying that this is what Manasa was responsible for, and you just let it happen! You let your crazy bitch wife set up a-"

"What did you call my wife?!" Hass roared.

"A crazy bitch!" Polymnia screamed, completely unfazed by their size difference or the myriad of bandages patching up his own broken body.

Hass' hands came down squarely on Polymnia's shoulders. His voice came out as a dangerous growl.

"You listen here, you-!"

Sevoya put her hand on her father's forearm.

"Let him go," she said.

"But Sevoya!" said Hass.

"You and I both know Mom wouldn't let anyone tell her what to do," she said. "Not under any circumstances. She literally killed herself to prevent someone else from telling her how and when she could die. Polymnia hasn't realized that, yet."

Sevoya sneered.

"Besides. He's still part of the group that got infiltrated, so he just wants someone to blame."

Polymnia stiffened.

"Am I wrong?" asked Sevoya.

Polymnia ground his teeth, even as Hass released him and begrudgingly turned back to the hissing television.

Krillin watched their drama from Chi Chi's couch, with one hand stroking his daughter's hair and the other clenched into a tight fist. He looked to Tienshinhan, who was standing with crossed arms and a stoic expression in the corner of the room. The frown at the corners of his mouth deepened.

"Do you feel something coming?" asked Krillin.

Tienshinhan nodded.

The broken and warped telephone poles and rebar poking from Satan City's downtown raised skyward, like the arms of so many worshippers of a higher power, but Eighteen realized with a sinking certainty that the city's dilapidated infrastructure was not alone. Spread below her was a crowd of about fifteen creatures like the ones she encountered from the hospital, all with their arms- or anything else they might have- raised towards the late afternoon sun.

Her first instinct was to open fire on them with the fury of an avalanche plummeting down a crumbling slope, but her suspicious mind stayed her hand.

If these creatures, which had been hiding away in the bowels of the city, were now openly basking in the sun in one large, easy-to-find group, what were they waiting for? She hovered in the air with this question heavy on her mind until she realized that she might be looking at the wrong anomaly. She turned around towards the direction of the Lucky Egg and the Capsule Corporation's emergency aid camp, and nearly fell out of the air at what she saw.

A huge, bulb-shaped object floated in the sky near the Lucky Egg like a malevolent cloud. Thin tendrils ran down from its base to reach the ground like a fine, multi-branched root system.

"What the hell?" she asked herself, and reached for the communicator Videl gave her.

She clicked the button.

"Videl?" she said. "Videl, do you see that thing in the air? Videl? Seventeen?"

Static.

"Damn it," she said, cursing, and took off towards the Lucky Egg, and the giant thing in the sky.

"You," growled Clio, with a hot stare that cut straight through the lenses of his goggles and into Dende's soul. "How'd you do that, you little green goblin? How'd you blow up the camera?"

"Release us," commanded Dende. "Stop this. This is wrong, and you know it."

Clio peeled back the goggles from his eyes to fix Dende with a stare of total incredulity.

"You think I care about that?!"

"Clio!" Erato screamed, like it made any difference. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

"Oh, shut up!" said Clio. "Just shut up! I've played with you for over thirty-five years, Erato! Thirty-five years! I deserve some new toys!"

"I'LL KILL YOU!" Erato repeated, frothing.

Clio rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure, fine, whatever, yeah. Heard it all before."

He pushed aside his sleeve to reveal what looked like a series of watches along his arms, and pressed a series of buttons on them like a glorified keyboard. His soldiers' heads moved in tandem, and then reached out to grab whoever was closest to them.

"We don't have a lot of time. Bag 'em and tag 'em, boys," commanded Clio, pressing a final command into his forearm. "Gotta make up for the ones that didn't show up from the hospital. Our numbers are low."

Erato felt the cords in his neck tighten and strain, like he might rip himself apart if Vegeta didn't let him go this instant.

Suddenly, the glass in Clio's goggles shattered as if struck with a sudden, violent impact. Clio jumped about five feet in the air in shock, and then frantically pawed at the space around his head like he might find the cause.

"My eyes!" he screamed. "Augh!"

Clio's paws clattered against one another and slammed against the gadgets on his wrists and body as he spasmed and shrieked. The swarm of black-masked soldiers halted suddenly, like a series of wind-up toys running out of tension in tandem to one another.

"Let us go!" exclaimed Dende.

Vegeta's hold on Erato slackened, and he wrenched himself free. He was like a creature caught between human and monster: His body had grown to rip his clothing at the seams, and his ears and tail bristled on full display. Immediately, he threw himself at the wall and half-leapt, half-flew to the roof of the Capsule Corporation craft, and slashed at Clio. A shallow wave of blood flew from the hare's chest as he leapt backwards, and then fumbled for the silver controller hanging around his neck.

Clio tore the goggles from his head and opened one red, irritated eye to glare at Erato, who pursued, and then leapt from the craft to the destroyed roof of the building. It groaned beneath the weight of his sudden landing. Erato followed, and let out a half-roar, half-scream as Clio jumped over his head to again land on the craft. Erato gave chase, claws extended, but Clio hit a button on his wrist, and the entire ship moved backwards to send Erato plummeting to the ground in a horrible crash. He emerged an instant later, thrashing in the rubble and all but frothing at the mouth.

Meanwhile, Dende wasted no time. He ran to the nearest of Clio's suited soldiers, pulled off their helmet, and then searched them until he found what he was looking for: a device in their neck. He wrenched it from their skin, and gently set them down when their body went limp.

He shouted to Urania and the King, "Run! Make your escape now!"

A massive hand clenched around Dende's wrist. Melpomene. He turned to find the huge man's impassive stare plagued by a streak of fresh tears.

"You have to fight it!" Dende said, struggling. "Cray Grande, I know who you are! You have to fight it!"

Melpomene's lips moved, but barely, and in all the noise stirred up by the chaos in the room, only Dende could possibly hear him.

From the top of the Capsule Corporation ship, Clio shrieked in frustration, and input something into his wrist keyboard with all the fury of an organist during a major solo, and then fiddled with the controller around his neck.

Finally, Erato shook off the madness of his impact with the ground, and then vaulted onto the ship after Clio with a blind, single-minded determination. Unfortunately for him, Vegeta was behind him this time, and sent a searing blow directly into his back. Erato screamed, and fell in a limp pile. Clio kicked Erato's body off the side of the ship, and he fell to the ground without protest this time. Urania screamed.

Melpomene's grip tightened around Dende's wrist, and Dende searched the room in a panic. Clio had regained communication with his lackeys, and together, they restrained not only King Furry, but Urania and the cameraman, too. Vegeta hovered in the air like a silent threat overhead, and Clio stood just behind him, grinning. Piccolo was locked in a quiet sleep thousands of miles away and into the sky, and Gohan unknowingly waited behind the locked doors of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. Nobody who could help was anywhere near him, except…

Except Yamcha, if Melpomene was telling the truth.

Dende bit his lip, and focused on the pulse of the earth brimming deep, deep below his feet. He reached out for Yamcha, and what plan he might have.

"Idiots," said Clio, wiping away the blood running from his left eye. "Fools. You think it matters if you kill me? You think it matters if you stop me? Something so much bigger is coming. If I die, it will have been at the cost of doing whatever I want. I've already won. I won the moment I joined the Red Ribbon Army, and got my own laboratory where nobody told me what I could and could not do."

"If that's true, then why don't you lie down and die?!" barked the King.

Clio grinned. "Because now, I want to see how much I can get away with," he said, and clicked a button on his wrist.

Clio's soldiers turned in tandem, and moved towards the ship. Their captives shrieked as they were lifted into the air, but Melpomene kept his, and Dende's, feet on the ground. Dende cleared his mind of everything but the heartbeat of the earth, and quietly began to chant.

"Melpomeeeeeene," taunted Clio, when he noticed he wasn't moving. "Melpomene, be a good boy and-"

"NOW!" Dende screamed.

One of Clio's soldiers near the craft broke from the ranks and grabbed Clio in a hold. At the same time, Yamcha moved as a featureless streak from his hiding place on the side of the building, and swiped the silver controller from around Clio's neck before kicking the figure holding the King of the World in the back, and then smashing the controller in his palms.

Vegeta fell to his knees, still staring mindlessly into the middle distance.

Clio yelped, and kicked away the soldier who restrained him. They erupted into a poof of yellow smoke as they flew from his side, and Puar steadied himself in midair when it cleared. Clio snarled at him, and made to punch a command into his wrist, but froze in alarm as the ground began to rumble, and the sky grew dark.

A brilliant light erupted beneath Dende's feet like a spring of gold bubbling from underground, and then rapidly grew to envelop his body, and then into an undulating column reaching into the sky. It writhed and sparked until its coils took the shape of an enormous, serpentine dragon of golden light, and then cut through the air towards Clio's ship.

Clio gasped, and leapt off the top of his craft just as the dragon of light collided with it and ripped a hole through its center. A series of staggered, delayed explosions bloomed throughout the ship's body, and a trail of smoke leaked from the curved hull like water. It sank to the ground like a stone falling through water, and let loose a shattering crash when it finally made contact. Dende threw his hands over his ears to try and stop the horrible pain imparted by the noise.

Yamcha darted through the building to toss Dende over his shoulder and collect Vegeta, and dashed for the exit before the smoke overtook them.

"Wait!" cried Dende, pointing towards the wreckage. "The King! Urania! And Erato, he isn't dead! He-!"

A shrill screech of metal on metal rattled the air as a looming mass appeared in the smoke. A smaller, oblong craft with two claws affixed to the front rose from the wreckage, and flashed two circular, blinding high-beams into the eyes of its witnesses. Yamcha scrunched his eyes shut and ducked his head, but neither Furry nor Dende were so lucky. They cried out as the light drove knives into their eyes and rendered them useless.

"You assholes!" cried Clio, from the cockpit of the little clawed craft. "Stop ruining my dramatic moments! Do you know how long I've prepared for this?! Do you know how much planning this took?! Honestly! You took the chips out of the people in the hospital, didn't you, you little bastard?!"

One of the claws extended at frightening speed towards Yamcha, and snapped just shy of him as he leapt backwards. However, Dende's arm was not so lucky. The Guardian screamed as it closed around him, and then violently wrenched him from Yamcha's grip.

"Dende!" screamed Yamcha.

"Oh, well," said Clio, suddenly calm. "I still get a consolation prize, don't I? Don't I?!"

Dende was blinded, but his ears and other senses told him everything he needed to know. He took a deep breath, and then ripped the rest of his body away from his captured arm in a fit of steely determination. He felt the arc of purple-blue blood splattering from the base of his arm rather than saw it, but the pain was undeniable. He turned his body away, and hurried through the air towards his escape.

He wasn't quick enough. He heard the hydraulics of the second claw activate an instant before he felt it encircle his head and yank him backwards.

"Don't think you can escape!" hollered Clio.

"Dende, no!" screamed Yamcha.

Clio threw back his head and laughed with maniacal fury. Dende couldn't see it, but the smell of the smoky air and crackle of the glowing embers wrapping around them both made him feel like he was surely in the mouth of Hell.

Had he made a mistake? Was coming out to address the Earth the wrong move? He had left himself too vulnerable, and trusted too much. But could he fix it?

How? How could he fix this?!

"So long, suckers!" Clio cried.

Dende heard the hot blue jets at the base of Clio's ship power on before taking his body somewhere far, far away at speeds that made him think his head and body might separate against his will. He called out with his mind for someone, anyone, before the pain and ramping noise of the engine forced him to stop.