Part 2 of the last chapter, and not the last. See you on Monday.
Meijer City
July 31, 06:27 p.m.
Despite how impossible it could sound, he was tired of running. He took his breath after running a few miles, still holding the cane like an old man. The sight was one to behold, though.
The Orange Stadium once again, shaped like a missile with a shark grin on its top. Despite the depressing look in the town, the place was lively and Cabba could hear a loud music around as the Stadium was surrounded by an enormous emerald energy barrier, the same one that protected him during his fight with Hit. No doubt Renji was protecting his "baby"'s pride and joy. Likewise, multiple giant battleships, all adorned with shark smiles on the front, were shooting at every direction while surrounding the building in the sky. From a mere stadium for pod racing to a fortress, an eccentric one at that, Cabba thought to himself.
Come in, I'll allow Renji to let you enter!
Cabba entered inside the barrier and put his hands on the orange doors, pushing them with difficulty, something worrisome as he was transformed in a Super Saiyan. Is the sickness affecting my strength? Cabba thought, as he could feel the cold sweat in his forehead. I need to hurry then, before I grow weaker. He opened them and took another deep breath.
There was no one in that large and empty hallway, only a light at the end. It was quiet too, even the sound of gunfire outside disappeared. Cabba walked, with only the sound of his footsteps keeping him company, knowing full well he was expected, yet not knowing what to expect.
What gave my direction away? The elegant battleships? The barrier? Or my cells yelling inside of you? I doubt you could have found me on your own, even if I gave you a map drawn with crayons.
Hearing him inside his head was annoying, now that he was free of his control. Cabba kept walking to the end of the tunnel.
You look unwell, and I'm sure you feel the same. You're probably wondering "why did this happen? How did I get the same disease as my father, who the worms are now devouring?" Oren giggled. Well, after you crushed my city and fight Shenron as an overgrown gorilla, I felt the need to weaken you.
Cabba detested hearing about that day ever since he woke up, seeing the destruction he caused – because of him. It was Oren's fault he turned that way, and he needed to pay for making him do that. Oren kept talking.
And you know what they say about apples and trees. If your father had a genetic disease, or you were in the same terror event that is killing your race, it was obvious that inside of you, you had it too, asleep. You were fated to die..
Cabba clenched his fist as he coughed, trying his best to remain kept walking as he heard that pretentious tone. It annoyed him that his suspicion turned true. Great, what does he earn knowing that? Another reason to hate Oren? He had enough.
Fancy armor. The black and blue suit you, perfect for the occasion, but coming here all sick was foolish, something I would expect from your kin's primitive monkey brain. Not to mention, you're stealing my colors.
"As if that mattered," Cabba said coldly, before coughing repeatedly. "Still afraid to show your face? Feeling insecure? Do you still hide inside that woman? I'm going after her too."
If anybody sees my face, I would have to lobotomize everyone – including your forces. Oh right, they are mine now. They have always been mine.
Cabba took another breath, as he finally arrived to the end of the tunnel.
He gasped at seeing a stadium full of people in the seats, who cheered, looking at the circular roads around the field filled with vehicles running at top speed. People of all races and faces, from the poor to the rich, there was no distinction of classes, as they all looked safe and happy. And atop a flying platform, there was him.
Oren played with an umbrella by pretending it was a guitar, with Renji behind him. He was now wearing a blue top, a pair of dark ocular glasses, alongside a new black undercoat as he held his umbrella. Renji the Herajin, by comparison, was still wearing the same clothes, now transformed with her amazonian physique and orange spiral hair turned red, pointing her arms at the sky, making sure the energy shield protected the stadium.
"Well, my fellow cohorts," Oren said through the umbrella, using it as a microphone. "The race has ended, now its time for the enormous event."
It confused him to see so many people. They were in the middle of a war, yet those people acted like nothing was happening, like any ordinary festivity. Was that Oren's mind control?
"Visitor – or should I call you by your name?" Oren started talking from his position in the air, looking at him with a gentle smile. "Please, take off your hood, and let the...ahem, jury, see you for who you truly are."
Cabba obeyed, having nothing to lose by showing his face. The audience reacted quite differently at seeing his pale sickly face: some with pity, others with disgust, everyone quite vocal. Cabba didn't care, as since Oren knew where he was, the disguise was pointless.
"See? You didn't have to be so insecure about your personal appearance," Oren said with that smile of his, feeling more fake every second. He then looked at the audience. "Diseases happen, even to galaxian scum."
The audience listened to everything he said, captivated by his words. Cabba, tired of his babble, silently charged an energy attack in his hand as he coughed.
"As you all know, the Orange Stadium proudly proclaims itself as the home of the very best of Podracing, so I congratulate our winner Zukarita, may your mom be proud, tiger!" Oren said with a big smile at the audience, as they cheered for the pilot. "However, protecting all of you from this heinous war has been my obligation. I gave you shelter, entertainment, the best food, escapism; all 'cause I want to honor the memory of my father."
It overjoyed the audience of hearing that, as Oren took off his hat. In the giant screen atop the stadium, an image of a bearded old man with ocular goggles appeared. Cabba immediately recognized him: Doctor Chimitsu, the same man they disguised as to fight Hit. He felt disgusted right there as he understood what Oren's plan was: to pretend Cabba killed the doctor, someone he never met, and gain the audience's favor. He even used the doctor's clothes just for the people to see the similarity. Oren said they created him as Frost's successor, and they did something right: he was a vile liar.
"Doctor Chimitsu, who created me as a medical warrior to cure all your injuries, and founded the factory that provided this planet with everything, not only the famous donuts, to turn it into the prosperous planet it became, passed away. I would like all of you to offer us a minute of silence."
And so did the audience.
"What are you doing?" Cabba said, very quietly. "I thought you valued your anonymity."
Paying my respects, I thought you of all people would understand honoring your parents, Oren said telepathically, without changing his somber mood.And during times of conflict, people need someone to rely on, so I cannot stay anonymous. Not to mention, I'm giving you the opportunity.
"What opportunity?"
To surrender, or to die by my hand in front of this audience.
"In your damn dream you vile parasite," Cabba said bluntly, not bothering hiding his hatred.
I was hoping you say that, Oren too couldn't hide his disdain.
Oren put on his hat again, as he spoke to the audience, this time not somber, but furious.
"You all remember what started this war! A boy of murderous intent who dared to fight against the king of assassins, and then became a monster who destroyed the capital and killed our fellow citizens, our Guardian Dragon that protected us from the evil that is now attacking, and our Saiyan friends! Well my cohorts, you're looking at him now, he killed the doctor too!"
First, it confused the audience, muttering to themselves. Then, they screamed, slowly, as every single person watching him was yelling with pure hatred. Cabba remained silent, focusing his own thoughts on the Tsufurian who said all of that.
"He is the one to blame for all of ours problems. Naturally, I must beg of you: give in to your hatred. I helped you, so now help me! Raise your hands in my direction, focus every negative feeling inside of you! Lend me your energy, so we can avenge our fallen!"
Cabba was in no mood to listen to his charlatanry anymore, and jumped at his direction, preparing an energy blast to pierce Oren to smithereens, even making sure to time skip to catch him off-guard. But he failed.
Oren threw the umbrella upwards, cleaning his shoulder, and quickly hit Cabba in the chest with a palm strike while flying. Cabba coughed horribly as he fell, recovering himself in the middle of the air. When he recovered, three Saiyans were flying in front of him as Oren grabbed the falling umbrella in the same spot as before.
He stopped me? Cabba thought, confused. How did he do that?
"My friends, as you focus your hatred, these fine soldiers wish to avenge their fallen comrades at the hands of this monster. You're probably wondering how the thirty remaining Saiyans have been enough to make war to an army of a thousand cyborgs, if one cyborg could obliterate thirty," Oren then did a cheeky grin quite proud of his achievement. "Well, that's thanks to me."
The three Saiyans, all male and different in appearance, had something in common: the crimson red eyes. Cabba quickly yelled at them.
"Guys, please listen to me! You need to get out of that parasite's control! He is only using you!"
"Overseer," said one of them with a somber tone. "You killed my friends."
"Indeed, Overseer," said the second with a petulant tone. "Besides, why should we trust you? You got the Super Saiyan transformation and didn't teach it to anyone. Why is that?"
"I tell you why," finally said the third. "You have nothing special to you. That power made you unique, without it you're nothing but a selfish little orphan, a black-hearted traitor. But now, we will avenge our comrades in the rightful way."
As a familiar energy came from those three men, Cabba trembled in horror. In their scream, they emanated a powerful aura that heated the stadium. But it felt unnatural; there was something off about it. Instead of a golden aura, it was instead reddish. Yet, Cabba knew it: somehow, they became Super Saiyans.
"How...how is this possible?!" Cabba pondered, as his skin shook. "Why are you guys like that?"
I I told you – your methods of getting angry to transform were highly idiotic, like all ofromanticism. Hanging out with you though, I discovered a way to force the transformation out of them through their cells. Sure, they are not blond but the power is the same. Like I'm sure you're aware, my mind is my strongest muscle. Meet my army of Super Saiyans, Cabba!"
Cabba coughed, then put himself in battle position to fight those Super Saiyans – False Super Saiyans, who flew towards him at top speed. The stadium cheered for his demise as they raised their hands toward Oren, who danced atop the platform to the sound of the music. Cabba knew very well he did that to provoke him – and it was working.
Auhor's note: Nothing much to add, other than I felt like taking another idea from the DBZ movies, and trying to reinvent a silly relic from a pre-Namek time only used in Dragon Ball Heroes and try to see how to make it work in a new context. I now understand how MasakoX feels.