PART TWO

THE noise of the club was almost too much to handle, the tension in the air unmistakable.

"Eugh, why is that table so tense?" the first words Bulma and Vegeta heard as the pair made their way towards the VIP section of this stupid club called 'Madame Destiny's.' Bulma stared at the alien who'd made the off-hand comment, her curiosity piqued.

"I dunno and I don't wanna know," growled the alien's compatriot in a gruff voice, raising a glass of a crystalline blue ale. "That crazy blonde bitch is in a right foul mood and if you keep starin', you'll get caught in the middle of it. Just keep your head down an' shut up."

Bulma snorted, intertwining her arm around Vegeta's as she heard him scoff. "Tch. What a wimp," he scoffed, rolling his eyes as he led his Woman swiftly and expertly through the crowded nightclub towards the table where Android 18 and Krillin sat alone, 18 nursing some kind alcoholic beverage, while Krillin had opted for what, thank Kami, looked like water.

Bulma fell silent as the pair approached the table and silently pulled up chairs, not wanting to interrupt the conversation. Tarble and Gure were nowhere to be found, which Bulma thought strange, but had no time to question it as Krillin's shrill voice piped up and sounded almost annoyed with 18 now.

"So, I'm almost done with my drink, 18. Can I just interpret this as a drinking party or something where we stare at each other in a bad mood or what, then?" Krillin grumbled, sounding put off by the android's mood.

Android 18 huffed in annoyance and tossed her blonde hair off her shoulders, crossing one leg over the other. "When did I ever say I was buying, shorty?"

Krillin shot her a pointed glower. "I have no money, 18! It's not like this place takes credit cards, I don't even know what the currency is on this planet!"

"Then go turn a trick upstairs," Android 18 snapped, not missing a beat as she scowled at him, raising the rim of her glass to her lips, and drinking heavily. "You ask me, ale's no different than piss. That stuff will never get you drunk. A real man takes rum. But if you don't have the balls to keep up with a woman, then I'm not gonna try and force you. But I might wanna put a little pink dress on you with some pretty ribbons and take you out for a night of dancing…" She smirked and shot him a blindingly white smile and a furtive wink that Bulma was sure made the man's heart stop.

"Humph. As a rule, I hate confrontations and chugging drinks like some teenager, but in this case, I'll make an exception! Watch and learn, Android 18!" Krillin growled, reaching for his tankard full to the brim with a suspicious-looking blue liquid that Bulma wouldn't dare to touch if her life depended on it.

Bulma's mouth hung open in shock and even she heard Vegeta make a snort of amusement out of the back of his throat as Krillin didn't hesitate to raise his tankard to his lips and threw his head back as he downed the glass in one fell swoop and slammed the stein down so hard onto the table that the glass cracked, much to 18's amazement.

"Never underestimate a student of Roshi's!" Krillin teased, shooting Android 18 a triumphant smirk.

"Why, you!" 18 growled through clenched teeth, curling her hands into fists as she bolted so fast from her chair that she upended and almost turned the table.

"And here I was thinking you didn't like confrontations," Vegeta murmured under his breath.

But if Android 18 heard him, she made no mention of it. Her attention was drawn to a newcomer, a man from the table behind them who she'd caught more than once staring at her backside, specifically, her ass.

"Hey, dollface," he said in a low voice. Android 18 glanced at him with raised eyebrows and narrowed eyes, taking in the alien humanoid's nearly bald head, the scruff on his chin, the tongue swiping across his thin, wormy lips. She wanted to puke all over his shirt. "If you can't fight a seat, babe, my lap's always ready."

"Spare me," Android 18, though internally, her insides twisted uncomfortably. "I've already got a seat, right here, thanks. Besides, your breath stinks, Romeo, like you've been sucking cock." She righted the chair she'd overturned, righting it with the heel of her brown leather boot, purposefully turning her back away from the patron.

There was the sudden and unmistakable sudden scrap of a chair and a sweaty calloused palm was gripping onto Android 18's arm. 18 glanced up, unimpressed as the alien growled at her through bared teeth, his lips curling upward to reveal yellowing gums.

"When a man gives a woman an offer, she accepts, blondie, or do I gotta teach you this lesson the hard way?" he growled, trying to pull Android 18 to him.

18 furrowed her brows in disgust as she felt the man's member hardening through his clothes as he ground against her. "Get the fuck off me!" she bellowed, the man not listening a word she warned him against.

Android 18 felt a surge of her temper well within her chest. "Alright, you cocksucker, you asked for it!" she snapped, curling her fingers into a fist, and prepared to blast this man into oblivion where he stood, and the rest of this stupid fucking club for that matter, though the startled shout of Bulma's friend rent the air.

"HEY! Let go of her this instant!" Krillin's voice roared angrily. "She's with us, jackass, so back off if you know what's good for you, or I'll knock your block off!"

Bulma stiffened as the club for a second time since they got here, fell eerily silent. The stranger let out a harsh bark of laughter as his beady eyes swept over Krillin's short stature and lingered on the man's face.

"Oh, yeah? I don' take orders from a midget," he sneered, continuing to hold steadfast to 18's arm. "Besides, this bitch is mine, aren't you, dollface?"

Bulma cringed while Vegeta merely looked unimpressed while Krillin summoned a little of his repressed strength and shoved the man off of Android 18's arm so hard that he went flying…straight through the wall, startling the customers and sending the place into a panic at the now gaping man-hole in the wall.

"Who are you calling midget, jackass?! My parents were six feet tall! And size is no guarantee of power, I just threw your ass through the wall, buddy, and I'd be more than happy to do it again if you can take it! You and me, pal!" he hollered, clenching his shaking fists by his sides to avoid striking out at the man again in anger.

His face was red as a tomato and he'd stunned everyone here, but especially Bulma. She gaped at him.

His face flushed high with color and he looked away, though he felt the intensity of Android 18's icy blue stare burning a hole in the side of his skull.

Krillin couldn't explain the events that had just occurred to himself even if his life depended on him doing it, which he could tell, by the hostess storming their way to their table, that he just might have to do it. But he couldn't help. Once this jerk had started getting closer to Android 18, his body seemed to have a mind of its own, no longer taking orders from his brain. All it had taken was that creep winding his arm around 18's forearm for something within the warrior to snap and lunge up from his seat like nothing else mattered. The moment his feet hit the floor, he'd loped towards the young woman and that awful brutish alien.

Red faded his vision and blood pounded in his ears as everything else faded away and Krillin allowed his pent-up ferocity and rage to overtake him for the first time in a long time. Not since they'd fought Frieza. Beside him, he was hardly aware of Android 18's growing annoyance at Krillin's intervention on her behalf.

"What the hell did you think you were doing, guy?" Android 18 shouted, leaning down so that the tip of her nose was almost touching Krillin. "I could handle it!"

Android 18 in a fit of anger, seized a fistful of Krillin's orange Kame House uniform and violently shook him, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to enforce her intended message: To listen. Or else.

"Fucking shit for brains! You trying to get yourself killed, pal? Did you get a death wish? Jackass! I agreed to be your personal bodyguard, Bulma, you and your friends, while you're out here, but this shit is fucked! I could protect you through the fucking Alamo back on Earth if I had to, but it's just damn not possible to protect a guy who's trying so damn hard to get fucking killed all the time!" she cried. "You half-witted, blind, bloody idiot! What the fuck were you thinking, Krillin? Guess what? After this job's over, I'm fucking outta here, I'm not sticking around you losers anymore! Next time you guys get into a spot of trouble, you'd better start asking God or that Eternal Dragon of yours for a favor! Don't look to me to save your sorry ass!" Android 18 yelled.

Without another word, ignoring Krillin's flustered look, she shoved Krillin backward so hard that he was caught off guard by the force of her gesture and was sent flying through the exact same hole in the wall he had just sent the patron of the night club barreling into.

Krillin winced as his head struck the wall of the opposite building the club was next to, and black spots crept at the edges of his vision and he blacked out, Android 18's fuming features the last thing his mind focused on before he reluctantly slipped into oblivion.

It would be a while before he'd wake up again.

Vegeta scoffed and rolled his eyes as Android 18 huffed in frustration and turned her back to Bulma.

"I'm going outside. Be right out front if you need me, but something tells me you can handle yourself now that you've got your Prince back with you," she spat.

"Wait!" Bulma exclaimed, shooting an arm out as if she thought that could prevent the blonde from leaving, though much to her surprise, it was Vegeta whose hand curled around her shoulder, preventing her from taking another step forward to go after her guard.

"No," Prince Vegeta answered in a low warning growl, giving his Woman a curt shake of his head no. "Let her go. The stupid android needs her space. Let the short one deal with her when he wakes up, it's not your problem to sort out, Bulma, it's theirs. If she sees anyone else at this point, she would just be a danger to everyone. Let her cool off for a while, Woman," he snapped haughtily. "It'll be good for the two of them to get along, otherwise it's going to be a long flight back to Earth if they're constantly at each other's throats like that."

Vegeta was right. Bulma let out an exasperated sigh and pinched at the bridge of her slender nose with her thumb and forefinger. "B—but…someone should go check on 18, make sure she's alright! And what about Krillin, h—he hit the wall!" Bulma protested, glancing at Vegeta out of her peripherals.

Her shoulders slumped when he shook his head no a second time.

"Uh, w—well I—if you're sure, then…I guess I can let them go," she stammered, licking her lips to moisten them, though she couldn't tear her gaze away from the massive hole in the wall. Her cheeks burned with shame and embarrassment.

Their situation was only made worse when the familiar sound of the cute little hostess' heels reached their table, the girl had come to check on the commotion and see what had scared away their patrons. Bulma flinched as the hostess dropped the heavily laden supper tray that she'd been carrying that contained their food orders, most of it for Goku.

"Wh—what in the gods' names happened here? Why is there a HOLE in the wall?" the hostess squeaked, her lavender eyes widening in shock as she took in the sight of the gaping hole and the deserted VIP area. "Uh…"

Goku let out a nervous chuckle and scratched at his hair. "Uh, yeah, sorry about that. I—I guess my friend Krillin doesn't know his own strength, we're really sorry. But…" he paused, sounding hopeful. "In spite of all the damage, d'you think we could still get something to eat?" he grinned, shooting the girl a smile.

"I…" she stammered and spluttered, trying to think of a retort, and looked towards Bulma and Vegeta for an explanation as she numbly pointed to the wall.

"Leave," Bulma snapped hoarsely, taking note of the way the poor hostess's face paled in shock. "Lady, it's not safe for you to be here right now. You should go. We'll—we'll pay the owner for the damages or whatever, but I think you should get out of here, miss."

The hostess turned at the waist to say something to Bulma, a look of shock on her face, though before she could utter even the first syllable, a breathy voice from behind interrupted whatever the alien was about to say.

"Vreena, who are these lovely…guests?" a woman's voice rent the air, smoother than silk and almost sexy.

"Mmm? Who the hell are you?" Bulma blurted out with no semblance of tact or grace, turning to look at the newcomer, feeling her blue eyes widen in shock and awe. And where the hell was Prince Tarble and Gure? They'd disappeared.

Almost as if he could sense her thoughts, Goku piped up, hoping to put Bulma's mind at ease. "They, uh, rented one of the rooms upstairs shortly after you guys did to get some alone time, but then I think I saw Gure come down the stairs without Tarble saying she wanted to talk a short walk to get some air and peace and quiet, and he was still taking a nap and didn't want to wake him up."

Bulma felt a cold chill waft over her. "And 18 or any of you just…you let her go alone? No one thought to go after her? Where's Tarble? What's he doing?!"

"Sleeping," Vegeta answered simply, though the sound of a light, slightly impatient cough pulled Bulma out of her swirling vortex of confused thoughts and she returned her attention reluctantly to the newcomer.

Thanks to the dim overhead light of the club, Bulma couldn't quite make out the features of the woman now standing in front of their party's table, thanks to the thickness of her thick black woolen robes, though as this she-stranger almost seemed to glide closer to them, as if she were floating, Bulma got a good look at the woman.

The first thing she noticed was that she was an exotic creature, and very beautiful. She would have almost passed for a human back on Earth.

Were it not for her pale pink skin, dark pink lips lined in a clear salve of some kind to give them a glossy sheen, and as she lowered the overly large hood of her robes, Bulma could better make out her features under the neon light.

The she-stranger clad in black robes was blessed with the gift of natural beauty, with an oblong face and good, high angular cheekbones. Her dark purple hair was cut short and windblown, though that may have just been the faint breeze coupled with the drizzle, thanks to the draft from the club's new hole as it blew her short, shaggy, layered hair away from her face.

Bulma shivered from the cold and clutched at herself, wishing she'd thought to pack a damn jacket. It was bloody freezing in here. She stuck out her bottom lip into a slight pout and continued letting her eyes make a quick scan of this foreign exotic alien beauty who had yet to reveal her name to them all.

No thanks to Krillin and his crush on 18, Bulma thought to herself, probing Vegeta's mind and learning her husband was thinking the exact same damn thing.

That those two needed to work it out and soon.

"M—Madame Destiny," the hostess squeaked, sinking into an awkward little curtsy that was more of a half-bow, her mouth still hanging open like a codfish as she nervously flitted her gaze to the hole in the wall. "I—I don't know what happened but—but I swear—"

Bulma's eyes widened upon hearing the alien woman's name finally mentioned. The club owner, she thought wildly, biting down hard on her tongue, hard enough that the coppery tang of blood filled her palate. Bulma felt a fiery heat creep to her cheeks as the alien whom they all now knew to be Destiny turned her gaze towards her, her dark purple eyes narrowing in slight suspicion as her thin eyebrows shot up so far onto her forehead that they almost disappeared into her hair.

She tensed, the only comfort to her at this moment was the tempered strength of Vegeta's hand around her arm. She was waiting for the inevitable blow-up of the owner, for the woman to launch into a tirade, but it didn't come.

Instead, Destiny merely turned to the hostess. "That will be all, Vreena. You may go home. It will ah, take some time for repairs to our club's wall to be made, so I wouldn't expect you back until Sunday."

Bulma noted how Destiny rolled her r's with a flourish and her voice had a slight accent to her lilt. Bulma and the others did not see the hostess bow to her boss, though the clacking of her stiletto heels could be heard clicking against the floor as she fled.

Destiny let out a dark little chuckle from the back of her throat.

"Sit down," she commanded, gesturing to the chairs for Bulma, Vegeta, and Goku to sit back down as she chose to situate herself in the chair 18 had used.

Bulma glanced at Vegeta, who merely shrugged his shoulders and saw no reason to deny the request.

As Bulma sat back down, she couldn't help but notice that Madame Destiny's fingernails were long and painted a rich purple, and she wore several rings on her fingers. She looked like the sort of woman who intended to take what life owed her and managed to pull it off without appearing gaudy.

Destiny intertwined her fingers together as she propped her elbows up on the table. Her jaw was cut like steel, as were her eyes as she fixed Bulma with a quizzical stare she didn't know what to make of, nor was she sure she particularly liked at all.

"You draw friends to you like bees to a flower, earthling, you rise like a majestic rose in a field of weeds, commanding attention!" Destiny murmured in a thoughtful voice, searching Bulma's pale blue eyes, as though searching for something, but what, she didn't know. But before she could ask, the club owner continued. "You're social but enjoy your solitude too."

Bulma's curiosity was piqued. She had to know. "And…how do you know all this about me? You don't even know who I am? Do you…?" she breathed.

"Tch, don't be ridiculous, Bulma, this gimmick of hers is nothing but a sales pitch, Bulma," hissed Vegeta.

Madame Destiny shot Prince Vegeta a withering look.

"It takes a special type to be in touch with the spirits of the Other World and beyond that realm, Saiyan Prince. Or should I call you King now? I suppose your father is in Hell, now, isn't he, Prince Vegeta?" she sneered, seeming to relish the way Vegeta's face reddened in anger. She scoffed and turned back to Bulma. "I communicate with the spirits, dear. They speak to me, whisper things. They speak to me now of you, dear. You'd better close your eyes to be better in tune with the infinite while you remain in my presence, Woman. Whatever that means," Destiny grumbled, glowering at Bulma's husband before turning her attention back to Bulma, her piercing gaze boring straight through Bulma's blue eyes as if to see inside.

Bulma's eyes widened, feeling a chill sweep through her.

Without waiting for Bulma's response, Madame Destiny parted her lips to speak. "A dark and terrible fate awaits you and your friends, earthling."

Instead of being alarmed by these words, Bulma couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement. What in Kami's name did that mean? Was Destiny an informant?

Was this just another one of Lord Frieza's traps? Bulma put on a worried face, ignoring Vegeta's skepticism as he made an odd noise out of his throat. She shot her husband a look, hoping to pry more information out of her. "And what makes you say that?"

The club owner and something of a fortune teller did not immediately respond, merely looked at Bulma.

"Did-did the spirits run out of nice things to say about me?" Bulma nervously chuckled, reaching up a hand to swipe a lock of her bangs out of her eyes.

Madame Destiny glowered at Bulma. "You should not make light of the spirits, child. They are very, very powerful," she warned in an icy tone with no warmth.

Bulma cautiously studied the alien's pale eyes for any emotion within, but Destiny's eyes remained blank.

"You have got a touch of 'destiny' about you, Bulma Briefs," Madame Destiny murmured thoughtfully, noting the audible growl Prince Vegeta emitted from deep within his throat. "Wait here. I've something for you that will help the babe within you grow even stronger."

She shot Vegeta a look as she uttered the last word.

"You do want it stronger than that one's boy, yes?" she murmured, with a wave of her arm as she gestured towards Goku, who was moving away from the table and to stand over the window, probably to keep an eye on Android 18, who Bulma could see was resting against the wall of the adjacent building angrily.

Bulma felt the color drain from her face, a horrible ringing filling her eardrums. "Wait! How did you…?"

But Madame Destiny shuffled away before she could say anything. Bulma nervously looked towards Vegeta for confirmation. "Do you know this woman?"

"Never met her before in my life," he snapped. Vegeta looked like he wanted to say more to his wife, but at that exact moment, Madame Destiny reappeared, holding a tarnished silver-looking goblet with a silver cobra engraved around its stem. "Here, drink this," she told Bulma, practically shoving the goblet to her chest.

Bulma and Vegeta both peered into the goblet. It held a scarlet-colored look, thick and garish looking that looked suspiciously like the blood from some animal, with a tangy, bitter smell—not appetizing in the least.

Vegeta shot her a pointed look out of the corner of his eyes. Don't drink it, Bulma, he warned. You've no idea what's in this thing. This wench could have poisoned it.

Bulma returned the look with one of her own, offering the slightest incline of her head. This woman, is she ah…friendly with Lord Frieza? Do you know, Vegeta?

The look he gave her was almost apologetic. No.

Bulma nodded and looked back at the strange substance in the cup that when she held it up to the overhead light above the booth, she now knew to be tea.

"What is it?" Bulma asked, making a face of disgust, and scrunching her nose at the bitter smell.

"A very special tea, my dear," Madame Destiny replied in a low voice that was almost hushed. "It will ensure the life of the babe that grows within you will become strong and will ward off the evil that hangs over both of your heads like a dark and raging storm cloud."

She pushed the goblet almost forcefully towards Bulma's lips. "Drink it, dear, you must drink it before it's too late!" Madame Destiny urged in a clipped tone.

Bulma hesitated. She especially didn't like to drink things without knowing what went into them. As Vegeta said, she could have tampered with it, somehow.

But before Bulma could politely refuse and make the excuse that she needed to go check on her friends (which really wasn't an excuse at all, it was the truth!), Madame Destiny in a show of force, shoved the goblet towards Bulma's lips and forced the goblet forward, causing some of the burning, scalding liquid to go down Bulma's throat.

"You must drink it all, dear," the club owner and fortune-teller told Prince Vegeta's wife sternly, pursing her lips and taking a step backward.

Bulma coughed and turned her head sharply to the side. More than a little bit of the tea had gone down her throat. It left a bitter, lingering taste of old leaves and grass cuttings on her tongue as she wildly coughed.

"I—I feel much better now, th—thank you," Bulma gasped, curling her fingers on Vegeta's arm.

Her poor husband looked like he was dangerously close to blasting the club owner where she stood, with a strange little smirk on her beautiful features that Bulma instantly knew she didn't take a liking to. She decided that fleeing was the best course of option. "Um, th—thank you for your—your ah, hospitality tonight, Madame Destiny, but we need to be—" But Bulma was cut off by the sound of a heartbreaking wail from upstairs. Alarmed, her eyes growing wide with surprise, she swiveled her gaze towards the stairwell in horror.

"What in Kami's name?!" Bulma exclaimed, feeling a stab of a fear prick at her heartstrings, rendering her feeling as though she'd been doused in ice water.

"Tarble," exclaimed Vegeta, but before he could take flight or even think about taking the stairwell two at a time, his younger brother came barreling down the stairs, looking winded and beyond the point of panic.

"What?" Vegeta growled as he rushed to his brother's side and grasped onto Tarble's shoulders, shaking him slightly, trying to get the man to snap out of it. "What's wrong?" he demanded urgently. Never before had he seen his brother in such a state of panic.

Something was wrong. Bulma went on alert, her posture straightening as she took a step forward, still coughing from the disgusting tea Destiny had forced down her throat.

"I can't…" Tarble began, his string of frantic words forming ahead of his thoughts. His dark eyes scanned the spaces near to him, still searching. "I—I can't find Gure!" he spluttered, afraid to confess it. "Sh—she's gone! She was taking a nap with me, b—but when I woke up, she was gone! I've looked upstairs everywhere. I tried to initiate our bond, but she won't answer me!" he shouted, trembling.

Tears formed in his worried eyes. Without any semblance of hesitation on his part, Tarble's eyes desperately searched Vegeta's face as if his older brother were the only one in the world who could help him now.

Bulma realized that Vegeta wasn't even harboring his usual resentment towards his younger, estranged brother, as Vegeta continued to steady Tarble by his shoulders, keeping the younger Saiyan standing up tall.

"We'll all search. She can't have gotten far."

"You will find the little alien just outside," Madame Destiny's smooth, seductive voice piped up in her low and husky voice. Her eyes grew distant, and she appeared to be watching a scene from somewhere else. "She is not alone," she told the group, almost casually.

Bulma turned her head to ask a follow-up question, though before she could, there were a few shouts coming from outside the front of the club in an alien language that she didn't recognize, followed by the cry of a woman in distress.

"Gure!" Gasping, ignoring Vegeta's protests to wait for her, Bulma sprinted towards the front door and wrenched it open, and looked out, Tarble right behind Bulma's heels, only to fall back with a terrible shriek into something hard and firm. She didn't realize it was Vegeta until she felt the tempered strength of his left hand grip her shoulder.

"Gure!" Bulma whispered in a horrified voice, clamping her hands over her mouth. Just outside the establishment stood Lord Frieza himself, his tail thrashing wildly in the air, and behind him, two Saiyan warriors, ones Bulma briefly thought she recognized, Toma and some other one whose name she couldn't place, held onto a squirming little Gure by the column of her throat, who wasn't looking good at all. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her lips slowly turning blue.

Lord Frieza noticed the group looking and sneered. "You've caused my men no small amount of grief, Woman," he said with an amused smirk. "And now, you want your precious little liability back? She certainly is a fun little toy, Prince Tarble, Vegeta's boys here had a fun time kicking her around like a ball," the vile creature laughed. Bulma stiffened as she felt Tarble tense beside her, grunting and growling with the effort to restrain himself. Frieza continued. "It tried so hard not to cry…but she didn't succeed. There's only so much a pitiful little creature like her can take before it breaks her…" he smirked, motioning with a flick of his tail for the Saiyan clutching onto Tarble's wife's throat to finish the job. The Saiyan, Toma, gave a curt nod of acknowledgment.

"NO!" Tarble screamed, the blood draining from his face as he realized what Toma planned to do. "PLEASE, LORD FRIEZA! TAKE ME! IT'S ME YOU WANT, TAKE ME INSTEAD, HAVE MERCY ON MY WIFE! DON'T HURT HER! WHATEVER YOU PLAN TO DO, DO IT TO ME, JUST DON'T HURT HER!"

But Frieza ignored Vegeta's younger brother's protests and pleas for mercy. "She's really quite a cute little thing, your wife," again Lord Frieza teased. "And stupidly brave too. I mean, why is everyone willing to die for you, Woman?" he growled, snapping his fingers, and looking directly towards Bulma and Vegeta as the Saiyan behind him, Toma, followed his commander's demand and snapped Gure's neck in one fell swoop, kicking her body to land right in front of Tarble's white boots.

Bulma's blood turned sour as Tarble's ringing, piercing her ears and straight to her heart, a heartbreaking scream that echoed in her ears.

Beside her, Prince Tarble's blood turned sour in his veins as a boiling hot rage flooded in his system. Slick tears poured down his cheeks as he looked down at Gure's body, and he violently wrenched away from Vegeta when he felt his brother's hand grip his arm.

Despite death glaring at him with cold, black eyes, Tarble could not look away from what Frieza had made of his wife, staring back vacantly with tear-filled eyes. A ringing began to screech on Tarble's ears, coupled with Vegeta's shouts to come away, and Bulma telling him…to—to look… up?

Why? Where was up? Who was he? What had happened? Who was he? Did he even have a name anymore?

His heart was almost bursting against his ribcage. Tarble was feeling it. A drop of rage fevering and spreading like nothing else he'd ever felt before. His breaths were half-mad, out of control as his lungs heaved, tears still falling from his lids.

A strange itch ruptured on his jaws as he looked up. And into the light of the planet Yardrat's moon. The last thing Tarble remembered beyond the immense pain as every bone in his body broke and shifted into a new place, were his eyes shifting and changing color from their dark brown hue to red, even the whites of his eyes shifted to a dark red, a low growl coiled with hate and hunger, and his body started to shake.

He was transforming.