Piccolo watches from his crumpled position as Vegeta prepares the death beam for Gohan.

The familiar voice in his head speaks.

We'll finally be rid of that nuisance.

Alongside the voice, memories of Gohan's training conjure. Piccolo sees two paths before him now, one where he rules as king without Gohan and one where Gohan lives his life without him.

The beam fires.

Piccolo springs to his feet.

What are you doing?

The voice is fainter as image after image flashes brighter and brighter. Each one empowers him with pockets of ki he did not know he possessed. They explode from deep within beyond what his mind is conscious of. Every step hastens faster than the last.

Stop it. You'll get us killed!

Piccolo barely hears the words now. He charges full speed ahead as new ki continues to flood his body. Every breath revitalizes him.

An inaudible mumble from the voice tapers out of existence, finally silenced forever. His thoughts align with his actions. No longer is he held back by any doubt. A smile stretches on his face as he sheds the weight of self-induced limitations.

He pumps his arms with each stride galloping him further than the one before. Happy tears roll sideways from his eyes as he thinks of how much Gohan has grown from a helpless child to a young man who saved him more than once now.

The memories fade into a blinding light as steps between Gohan and the beam. He extends his body as wide as he can to form a wall and shield Gohan.

A blast beyond his measure ravages his body. It sears flesh and demolishes inner organs. If not for the new power, it would have disintegrated him instantly. But the strange ki he tapped into continues to pour forth as he endures the beating pulses of the wave. He blocks every ray of it from getting passed him to his student, his friend.

The blast ends, and Piccolo stands withered and gray. Vegeta stares in disbelief. Gohan gazes upon the scorched back of his mentor. Its pale, shriveled skin blisters.

The husk falls backward. Gohan rushes forward to catch Piccolo. He puts his palms against the shoulder blades and slows the fall. It surprises him how light Piccolo feels as he sits down with the head in his lap.

"Mr. Piccolo."

Gohan whispers, not wanting to hurt Piccolo's sensitive ears. Discolored pupils blinded by the attack stare upward. Gohan hopes they will close until he realizes they cannot because the eyelids have burned away.

"Go … han."

Piccolo reaches up a hand. Gohan grabs it and presses it to his cheek. The fingers stroke his hair.

"I'm … sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for. You saved me."

"I'm sorry … I was so tough on you. There were times … I took my anger for your father … out on you. But I want you to know … I'm proud of you. You've gotten so strong. You never gave up."

"Yeah, and we can do more training after the Saiyans are gone."

Piccolo manages a smile.

"Before I go, I want to say … thank you. You're the only friend … I've ever had. I never knew … it was something I was missing. So thank you for giving me … such a wonderful gift. Goodbye Gohan."

The full weight of Piccolo's arm hangs in his hand.

###

High above the world on the Guardian Palace, Kami phases in and out of existence.

"Kami!" says Mr. Popo. "You can't go. Earth needs you."

"I'm sorry old friend, but I cannot stay. And honestly, it's not so bad. Piccolo achieved what I always wanted for this planet. And if someone like him can learn the value of life, then there is hope that everyone on Earth can one day as well. That means more to me than anything. Goodbye my friend."

Kami disappears leaving Mr. Popo to stand alone.

###

Vegeta spits as he watches the boy and the Namekian. He rubs scar tissue across his right eye.

"That attack should have vaporized both of them," he says. "Where did he get the strength to endure it? I used up more stamina in anger than I intended, and still I couldn't push through him. What's the deal?"

Gohan shakes Piccolo gently, trying to wake him. The shaking becomes more vigorous as his attempts fail.

"Mr. Piccolo. Mr. Piccolo! Wake up, please!"

His head drops jostling loose tears that fall to Piccolo's forehead.

"ARGH!"

Vegeta steps back as Gohan snaps to his feet. The weight of the boy's glare freezes his heart for a full beat. The fur on his tail bristles as the child's rage somehow traverses through the air and into him. For just a moment, he feels a deep fear only one man has ever been able to induce in him. The kind of fear that makes you feel like a helpless child afraid of the dark.

Gohan raises his hands above his head. Vegeta recognizes the pose from when the boy shot his eye. He bites his tongue, shakes his head, and begins searching the ground.

"Where is it? Where is it!"

He spots his scouter, braces his bleeding right shoulder, and dives for the device. A giant yellow sphere appears in Gohan's hands. Vegeta slaps the device on his ear and pushes the button. Numbers race across his screen.

"2,800! Where did he pull that much power from? No matter. If I use just the right amount of stamina, I should be able to deal with it with enough to spare."

He adjusts his scouter to read off the power level of the energy he focuses in his left fist.

"Masenko!"

The amber flash roars toward him. He watches his own number rise as he prepares his defense to match the attack. It does not rise fast enough. He clenches his core tightly trying to squeeze out more inner power. The number jumps to 3,100. He swings his fist, punching the dense plasma trying to engulf him.

The jolting collision rattles his bones. Each knuckle cracks. All feeling in his entire arm goes away. His hooking punch knocks the blast aside so it redirects around him. It slants into the ground not far away. The resulting explosion gusts over him.

He watches both Gohan's and his own power drop on the scouter. His continues to leak away as more blood flows from the grievous wound in his chest.

"You definitely have the power of a Saiyan in your veins boy."

Gohan trembles as the seemingly unfazed foe stalks up to him.

"I'd offer you a position among the Saiyan ranks under me, but you've pissed me off too much."

"Leave him alone."

Vegeta stops and turns his head.

"Ah, Kakarot. You know I had wanted to kill your son to torture you. But now I'd rather kill you first to torture him."

Vegeta launches from his feet while corkscrewing his body so his left hand hovers over his right shoulder.

Goku raises his arms, but a swiping chop reaches his neck first. He gasps for air but no relief comes as Vegeta beats on his torso, deflating his lungs with each strike. A high reaching kick clips his chin. He flips over from the force and lands on his belly.

Vegeta raises a hand glowing with might. Goku tries to push himself up on wobbly arms.

"At least you won't die the weakest low class Saiyan, Kakarot."

He drives ki sharpened fingers down to impale his adversary through the spine. Something zips across his vision, and his stabbing strike pierces deep into the ground. He pulls it free while looking to his right.

Goku lies on a golden cloud with his arms and legs dangling over the sides. He lifts his head.

"Nimbus? But I didn't call for you."

He and Vegeta both look in the direction it came from. Master Roshi stands with his arms behind his back. His sunglasses flash in a quick reflection of the sun.

My scouter doesn't even register a power level from this guy, thinks Vegeta. No wonder he snuck up on me.

Vegeta clears his sore throat.

"Another Earthling for the slaughter, huh? You should know I'm in a particularly sour mood. If you start running now, I may forget you were even here once I'm finished with these two."

Master Roshi drops into a fighting stance.

Vegeta sighs.

"Have it your way old man."

###

Bulma's knuckles nearly punch through her skin as she grips the wheel of her jet. She leans forward, nose almost on the glass. Every few seconds, she affords a glance at her console. A single digit rises and falls like a heartbeat. Yamcha is barely hanging on.

She tightens her grip and increases her speed.

###

Raditz feels the grotesque process of reverting to his human form as his consciousness comes back. Twisting bones and muscles writhe beneath his skin. Upon reaching his original size, he sets his attention on Yajirobe.

"You must think you're pretty funny for cutting off my tail."

Yajirobe yanks his head back and forth.

"You should know that in Saiyan culture, losing one's tail means absolute disgrace. You might as well have lost your head. Allow me to share my disgrace with you."

Yajirobe readies his sword. He tries to parry an incoming punch, but the back of Raditz's hand slaps across his face. He spins a full circle while lashing out with his sword to keep Raditz back.

His opponent easily jumps over the blind slashes and delivers a kick to the back of his head. Yajirobe's ears ring while his vision blurs. His head feels heavy with the onset of a concussion.

Survival instincts kick in. The full weight of his life ending breaks through the desire to black out. Yajirobe firmly holds his sword with both hands so the hilt is at his hip, the blade pointing behind him.

Raditz pauses at the sudden conviction. He barely notices Yajirobe bend his knees before the swordsman streaks along the ground. After a flash of steel, Yajirobe stands far behind him with his back turned.

Raditz watches his own left arm boomerang up into the air before arcing back down. Blood whips out of it as it spins. He stares at his stump where the missing arm used to be below his suit sleeve. Blood runs from it like a shower head.

He flexes the fingers of his right hand. They begin to glow with green energy. Steam rises from them, deforming the air. He slams the palm against the stump. Screams follow the sizzling of the wound cauterizing. He drops to one knee as the pain suffocates him, but at least the bleeding stops.

Yajirobe charges in for a finishing blow. Raditz spins on his knee and pumps his good arm back before thrusting it forward. A bolt moving too fast to react to slams Yajirobe in the chest. The sudden stop and then reversal of momentum knocks him out immediately. His sword clatters to the ground as he drops onto his back.

Raditz takes a moment to catch his breath. The charred skin irritates his nose. A jet lands nearby with a woman hopping out of it before the wheels stop rolling along the ground. He stares at her as he inhales.

Bulma sprints to the giant footprint in the ground. She drops to her knees. They scuff as she slides to a stop. She ignores the peeled off skin as her hands work to pull away debris covering Yamcha. She brushes away dirt and lifts away rocks. She shouts his name over and over as she does.

"Please don't die!"

She pleads and sobs while continuing to work through the scrapes. She can barely look upon his broken form. His unnaturally yellow skin and bloody face horrify her. Misshapen bones beneath the surface churn her stomach.

"Bulma?"

"Yes! Yes it's me."

"You have to run. He'll kill you."

"I'm not going to leave you."

"I'm not going to make it.

"Yes you are! Yes you are. I'll … I'll get Senzu Beans from Korin. I'll … I'll get Mr. Popo to make more of his magic medicine."

"Bulma. I love you."

"Don't you start saying goodbye. You're going to make it through this."

Chichi's eyes slide open. Her head feels foggy, but the last memory of being in battle cuts through it. She sees Bulma grieving and senses Raditz stalking the battlefield. Her power begins to return from its unconscious state. She feels the enemy set his sights on a weakened Yajirobe.

She flips to her feet. The burns on her back claw at her like an animal. She quickly identifies Raditz has his back turned. She flares her aura and charges with silent grace.

A sense of danger peels the hair on the back of Raditz's neck up. He spins around to face the threat. Two taps from Chichi, one to his bicep and one to the forearm, cause his raised arm to hang limply at his side.

Chichi drops to her knees to duck a kick. She summons more inhibiting ki to her fingertips. She locks onto the lines of life force running through both of Raditz's legs. She strikes them simultaneously. She feels the lines pinch shut beneath the pressure like a garden hose.

Numbness runs down to Raditz's feet and up into his hips. He drops to his knees while Chichi regains her feet. She claps her hands together so her fingers point up. Her eyes close. She molds her ki into the fiercest form she can.

Behind her closed eyes, an ethereal image of Raditz appears. In the center of his chest, the intersection of every ki pathway that travels throughout the body appears.

Her eyelids rip open as her hands strike. Each one taps four times in an octagon around the heart. She finishes with a flat palm to the center of the previously struck points.

Raditz blows backward as hazy blue energy ripples between the two fighters. He lies motionless while Chichi heaves for air. She can feel his energy, but senses Yamcha's fading fast. She spins around and rushes to his side.

"Can you save him Chichi?"

Chichi can barely understand Bulma through her sobs. She places the index and middle fingers of both hands on Yamcha's heart and traces out his ki paths. Ruptures hemorrhage energy away from where it needs to go. They are clogged with dying ki that cannot return to its source to be replenished with life giving essence.

Her fingers start to move erratically around. They jab at the skin in random places.

"What are you doing?" says Bulma.

"I'm trying to push his ki around to where his body needs it and release the old ki to make room for more."

She runs it to his heart and brain first. She transmits her own life force to wash out the old. She gives more and more while trying to release every last packet of trapped healthy ki and redirect it to critical areas.

The more she pours in, the more she realizes Yamcha's body simply is not refilling fast enough. Most of the incoming ki is slipping away before it can even enter the body proper. The only thing keeping him alive is her, and her stamina is draining fast.

Yamcha's eyes close

"Yamcha!" says Bulma. "Don't close your eyes. Stay with me. Focus on my voice."

His chest deflates and does not rise again.

"Yamcha! You need to fight this! Don't give up!"

The spark of Yamcha's ki fizzles from Chichi's mind. An empty coldness replaces it. Her shaking hands pull back from his body.

"Don't stop! Keep trying! Save him!"

Chichi tries to speak but the words trip over themselves in her throat. They form a lump. Bulma grabs her hands and forces them back down on Yamcha's chest.

"Chichi please keep trying. You have to save him. Don't let him d—"

"He's gone Bulma."

The statement slaps Bulma across the face. Pain stings at her eyes. She looks down at Yamcha and grabs his shoulders. She shakes him.

"Yamcha. Yamcha! Yaaam-chaaa!"

Her voice cracks over the two syllables. Her upper body collapses upon his torso. It heaves with sobs.

She looks at his face. She can barely recognize him beneath the bruises and swelling.

"I'll wish you back with the Dragon Balls. I swear it."

She leans back in numb silence. A flashing light and beeping noise draws her attention to her wrist. Her watch monitoring the other power levels reveals another victim.

"No. No this can't be right. If Piccolo is gone, then so is Kami. And if Kami's gone …"

She looks at Yamcha's still body. Her eyes blink and jettison tears. She grips her shoulders. Her nails draw blood. Feeling any other pain would be better than what she feels now.

Her head drops backward. She looks to the sky. Anguished cries climb out of her lungs.

"You bastards! You evil bastards!"

She is on her feet and racing towards the Saiyan before her mind can even catch up with her anger. Chichi reaches after her, but her body is too weak to follow.

Raditz slips his fingers into a pocket of his elastic bodysuit beneath his collar. His heart wrestles itself in his chest as if trying to decide whether or not to keep beating. Burning cramps seize his torso.

He fidgets a remote out of his suit while hoping his heart will not quit. His one hand fumbles around to get a hold of it so his thumbs can press the buttons.

A palm slaps the remote aside, sending it clinking away. Two hands press down on his throat before he even has time to see where it went.

Eyes seething rage and tears burrow into his own. Bulma rips into his neck with her nails to pull her grip tighter. Raditz gasps for air.

He thrusts a fist into her stomach. The blow knocks her on her back. Raditz coughs and gasps. When his lungs are satisfied, he rolls over and scans for the remote. Seeing it, he crawls towards it.

Pain unlike anything Bulma has ever felt wracks her body. The fear of all her organs rupturing and bleeding within holds her down. As she drifts into unconsciousness, a nightmare image of Yamcha's brutalized body shocks her awake.

With saliva and stomach acid running down her chin, she struggles against the muscle spasms and bruised organs. She pulls herself to a sitting position. Her legs bend back under her as she falls forward on her palms. She hacks up more fluid. The bitter taste of bile battles her tongue. She gets one foot under her and then the other. She rises from her squat but does not make it beyond a hunching posture.

A glint of metal catches her eye. She stumbles over to Yajirobe's sword.

Raditz reaches the remote and flips it over. Without bothering to pick it up, he presses a command to call his ship to his location. After hearing a beep of confirmation, he rolls onto his back and stares at the sky. A shadow falls across him.

"You cannot be serious," he says.

Bulma raises the sword.

"Give it a rest woman."

She plunges the blade down like a knife. Raditz grabs her forearm and stops the point from piercing his flesh. Bulma places her free hand on the butt of the hilt and leans her weight against it. Raditz's arm starts to bend.

The pod he came in arrives. It taunts him as the door opens while he struggles not to be impaled. He desperately tries to move his left arm despite knowing it is missing. Losing the battle, he flicks his wrist. The sword comes down. His skin slices and blood spurts.

Hot liquid runs down his left cheek where the blade barely missed stabbing his throat. Bulma stumbles forward as her weight follows the release of tension. Raditz elbows her in the side of the head on her way down.

He does not wait to see if this stopped her. After dragging his belly to the spacecraft, he clambers into the pod. His eyes make contact with Bulma's as the door closes. They hold the shared look until the craft lifts off the ground.

Bulma watches the sphere pick up speed before thrusting into the atmosphere.

Author's Note 04/17/21: Precious lives have been lost in the fight for survival against the Saiyans. But battle does not stop for the ones that grieve. Vegeta still threatens Goku and those that are left. Can he, Master Roshi, and Gohan finally put an end to his reign of terror? Find out next time on Dragon Ball Ki, For the Fate of Loved Ones.