The Rage: Prophecy of the Ten
Disclaimer: DBZ is owned by people who are not me who haven't given me any
permission to use their copyrighted material. But that's not gonna stop me
(Bwahahahaha!!!!). Ahem…well, anyway, all other characters are were created by
myself and other fans and any similarity with a real person is either purely coincidental or
intentionally malicious, whichever is more convenient. Please don't rip the characters, it
took to long to make them up!
Part 1 – The SuperHuman Saga
Chapter 2
High pitched shrills filled the air as thirty plasma rifles discharged round after round
towards the red skinned figure in the impact crater. Each bluish-green bolt of energy
packed enough power to render 200 full-grown men unconscious on impact and a
concussive force strong enough to push a car twenty feet. The red alien never moved as
the hail of shots rained down around him. As each shot landed, a cloud of dust rose,
obscuring the results of the attack from the attackers.
"Alright, hold fire men!" the Sarge called out. The call echoed as designated people
on the circle repeated the command. The Sarge looked below, trying to see anything in
the cloud of dust they'd just made. The wind refused to come and sweep away the cloud.
He would have to take more direct action. He spoke into the com-unit "Kenjo."
"Yes, Sarge."
"Take the two guys next to you and go down in the crater. Have three more follow
you three. Go in weapons ready and on maximum discharge."
"Shoot to kill, Sarge?"
"Yes." He replied. Not that he thought it would matter. He'd seen better, faster
soldiers try to shoot a Heavy in short range. They had barely squeezed a shot off before
the Heavy had killed them. And those were just training exercises…
"Stay on your toes, ladies." He called out to the remaining soldiers on the crater rim.
"Anything but one of us comes out of there, it gets shot." He heard the familiar whine
and click of the plasma rifles as they switched from stun to plasma discharge. The
soldiers remained quiet, nervously gripping their rifles and praying. The Sarge thought
that he should be feeling the same, but he'd been in so many life and death situations like
this, his mind didn't even let the fear register. So he waited…
---
Kildrun heard and felt the blasts coming before he ever actually saw them. Not that he
was afraid of them hitting him; he was far too fast for the slow moving projectiles. Before
he began to think about it, he was dodging the stun blasts. He could have blocked them,
but he figured that the cloud of dust would allow him to stay hidden while he got more
information about his attackers. By use of ki, he kept the cloud suspended in the impact
crater, hoping to lure in some of his attackers. It did not take long for him to be rewarded.
"…where the hell is that red bastard?" a voice said ahead in the dust.
"Hell if I know." He heard another voice say. "Any readings on the infra-red, Kenjo?"
"No, nothing. If he's like a Heavy, he could be anywhere, though."
The three remained silent until they literally walked into Kildrun.
"Holy ---"
"What the ---"
"Ack!!!"
Before they could continue their exclamations, Kildrun kicked one and punched the
other two with a minute fraction of his power. In a rush of air and dust, the three flew
outwards and upwards, toward the edge of the dust cloud. Kildrun smiled, hearing dull
crunches and expletives as the three landed. He turned his head, hearing three more sets
of footsteps rapidly approaching him. He rocketed toward them, kicking up dust and
letting go a half-snarl, half-yell that he hoped scared the hell out of the rest of his
attackers. The three soldiers, hearing the Namek, began shooting wildly, hoping to
somehow hit the unseen foe.
Kildrun flew in faster, batting away the stray blasts directly back at the soldiers. He
could hear the sickening impact as the bolts tore through their flesh.
"Enough of this undercover fighting," he thought, "let's bring it to into the light."
He stopped in mid-air and began powering up his energy. Around him, the wind began
to swirl and move, stirring up the dust surrounding him. Static electricity gathered like
small lightning bolts, arcing and shooting around his body. A yell began forming in
Kildrun's throat, finally escaping as he reached the right level of power.
"Yeee-aaaah!!!!" he yelled. His erupting aura forced the stirred wind outward,
blowing the dust away and revealing him to the frightened troops below.
---
The Watcher noted the exchange passively; Kildrun could slaughter that "elite" squad
with very little effort. He was more concerned with the five warriors heading towards the
battle. He hoped Kildrun had the power to deal with them. They wee Superhumans,
genetically engineered and trained to wield huge amounts of ki energy. They were
created and employed by all five governments, though the cost of creating and raising
each one kept the ranks to less than fifty per country. Of the five who approached, three
were "Mediums", with power levels ranging from 50,000 to 150,00. The other two were
"Heavies". These were the elite of the elite, from whom the Superhumans gained their
nickname. They ranged in power from 150,00 to 250,000. The Watcher could sense that
Kildrun had immense power, but he had a bad feeling that it would not be enough
today…
---
"FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!!!" the Sarge yelled. It was fruitless, however; Kildrun had
disappeared before any shots had come within ten feet. He dove down into the mass of
soldiers who were firing erratically, trying to hit what they could not see. He punched the
first soldier he encountered in the jaw, breaking his neck with a sickening pop and
sending the body flying into three more soldiers. Before the other soldiers began to
realize he was there, he had killed three more with equally bone shattering and lethal
efficiency.
Kildrun suddenly felt his antennae twitch. He instinctively dove to the right, looking
back as he rolled out of the way. His suspicions were confirmed as he saw a ki blast rip
into the remaining soldiers, mangling their bodies beyond recognition. He traced the faint
path of the ki trail upwards to a group of five people floating in the sky. He furrowed his
brow, trying to get a good read on their power levels. He didn't like what he sensed.
Three of them were somewhat less powerful than himself. The other two were about
even with him, at least at now, when he was only at about thirty percent.. Even at full
power, they might be stronger…he would have to be smart if he wanted to survive this
encounter. He stood up, dusting off his clothes, the trademark garb of the Namekian
Warrior. The remaining soldiers, stunned at first by the deaths of their teammates,
retrained their guns on Kildrun, preparing to shoot.
"I wouldn't if I were you.." Kildrun warned gruffly, raising his hand, and a ki ball, in
their direction, "I can kill you all before those five could stop me. Not that they care
about you all anyway."
The soldiers froze, then began backing away, weapons lowered. "To hell with it." the
Sarge yelled out, voicing what the others were thinking. "Let the Heavies deal with it.
Fall back!"
As the soldiers retreated, Kildrun focused his attention on the five who still floated in
the air, smirking confidently at him. They remained locked in a stare for several minutes
before Kildrun's patience ran out.
"Well, are you gonna fight me or bore me to death?" he called out. The group burst
out laughing, They descended to the ground quickly, still grinning at what they perceived
to be a joke.
"It seems this little red ant is in a hurry to be squashed." one said. The speaker, like his
comrades, wore what Kildrun thought looked like highly modified Saiyan armor. He
wore black boots and his hands were bare. Kildrun noticed an insignia and lettering he
couldn't recognize over the left breast. His skin was a very light pink and a shock of
brown hair fell over his head. He had cold, steely gray eyes and a mouth that seemed to
naturally set into a smirk. Kildrun could tell from his demeanor that he was the leader.
"Funny," Kildrun said sarcastically. "What the hell do you want?"
"We should ask you the same." the man replied. "It is illegal, by treaty with the Saiyan
Empire, for any unauthorized landing on this planet except by Saiyans."
"I don't recognize any treaties you have with those bastard monkies," Kildrun said,
spitting out the last words. "My planet isn't controlled by them."
"The other four laughed amongst themselves at Kildrun's audacious statements. The
leader held up his hand, silencing them.
"Perhaps this is true," he said, "but what you do or do not recognize is irrelevant. You
have landed in our country. Therefore you are at mercy to the whims of our government.
Or, more specifically," he said, grinning evilly, "our government's representatives. We
will be taking you back to our headquarters for 'questioning'."
Kildrun figured the "questioning" involved anything but questions. "And if I refuse?"
he asked tightly.
"Well, it's not a question of whether you're coming with us. You will be coming with
us, the question is if you'll walk there or be carried there."
It was Kildrun's turn to laugh. "I see. Well then, would you do me the favor of giving
me your names? I'll need them for your headstones."
The five burst out laughing again. "Damn, Captain," one of them said, "This one's got
a pair of grapefruits, don't he?"
"Indeed," the captain replied, grinning. "I don't usually grant requests, but I'll make
an exception.
"I am Kangru. My lieutenant Stavro," he pointed to the taller and paler man. He had
Norse features, with ice blue eyes and golden hair pulled back in a long ponytail. "My
two corporals, Allahn and Tuling," he pointed to two men with Asiatic features. "And
last my sergeant, Fei'lo." he pointed to the last man, a short, brown skinned man. "I've
never known a person wanting to know their assassin before dying…"
"You talk too much. I'm stronger than all of you."
"I think you'll be surprised. But definitely not pleasantly." Kangru motioned to the
others. "Let's see what our red friend can do, shall we?"
On cue, all five powered up quickly, stirring up the wind as their red auras exploded
outwards. Kildrun stared, mind boggled. They had just tripled their power levels in less
than ten seconds. He had to power up soon, or he would not stand a chance.
His thoughts were cut short when he saw Fei'lo suddenly appear in his face, fist aimed
for his gut. Kildrun dodged easily enough and prepared a counter but had to break it off
when he heard the telltale swish of a leg slicing through the air (and at his head). He
twisted to the side to avoid both the kick and the rapid punches of Fei'lo. He swung his
legs around and upward, not trying to land a blow so much as to give himself some room.
He noted with satisfaction that Fei'lo had received part of the blow but his other attacker,
Allahn, had only dodged. For a moment they traded blows and blocks, before Fei'lo
returned with Tuling. Kildrun knew he could handle these three, not because he was
stronger but because he could keep them off balance and uncoordinated with his speed.
But he still needed some room and some time to power up. If one of the others jumped in
now, he doubted he could hold out.
Kildrun continued dodging the blows that were raining in his direction, staying just a
hair's breadth ahead of his foes. Tuling, frustrated, lunged in hard with a punch, throwing
himself off balance and placing himself between Kildrun and the other two. Kildrun,
having sensed the blunder ahead of time, seized the opportunity by forcefully thrust
kicking the over-extended man into his partners. At the same time, he directed ki through
his outstretched leg, quickly pushing himself fifty feet away. He calculated having a
minute, at the most, to power up. It wouldn't be nearly enough time to power up fully,
but it would help till he make another opportunity to power up. Assuming the other two
didn't interfere…
As if they had heard his thoughts, Kangru and Stavro launched at him ten seconds into
his powerup. They zanzokened so fast he did not have the time to raise his guard. He
doubled over in intense pain, feeling the effects of Kangru's knee that had been savagely
jammed into his abdomen. He did not have time to contemplate the pain in his stomach,
as Stavro snapped his head up with a vicious high kick to his chin. Kildrun flipped
backwards uncontrollably, flying directly into a double axe handle blow from Kangru. He
crashed into a sand dune, creating a crater twenty feet wide in diameter. He lay for a
moment, trying to push back unconsciousness and shock brought on by a magnitude of
pain he had never before experienced. He slowly, painfully rose to his feet, mentally
checking his injuries. They were bad, but his natural healing ability would take care of it.
That is, if he could avoid getting pummeled any more.
"Hah, where is your honor?" he called out, pausing to cough and spit up blood.
"Attacking during a power up?"
"There is no honor." Kangru replied through a feral grin. "There is only winning and
losing. How you choose to arrive at either end is irrelevant." He motioned with his right
hand to his comrades, who fanned out to surround Kildrun. "Now, are you coming
quietly, or are shall we dance again?"
"A Namekian warrior never gives up, even in the face of death. You want me,"
Kildrun declared, "come get me."
"Have it your way." Kangru said. "And, by the way, even the power up you've
managed in the last thirty seconds isn't going to help you." He motioned to the others,
who promptly launched themselves at Kildrun, who yelled out, gathering as much power
as he could.
---
The Watcher could watch no longer. Even as he saw the merciless beating Kildrun was
taking, he reached out to the other Potentials, touching their minds. With this new
situation on the horizon, he would have to move his plan into action before he had
intended. He used his psychic powers to appear to each of the Potentials, saying what
they needed to hear to agree to meet with him. That accomplished, he reached out to
Kildrun, who refused to let go of consciousness, which fueled the anger of his attackers.
He spoke with the red Namek, convincing him that he would be safe. Reassured, Kildrun
stopped fighting, allowing himself to slip into unconsciousness.
Disclaimer: DBZ is owned by people who are not me who haven't given me any
permission to use their copyrighted material. But that's not gonna stop me
(Bwahahahaha!!!!). Ahem…well, anyway, all other characters are were created by
myself and other fans and any similarity with a real person is either purely coincidental or
intentionally malicious, whichever is more convenient. Please don't rip the characters, it
took to long to make them up!
Part 1 – The SuperHuman Saga
Chapter 2
High pitched shrills filled the air as thirty plasma rifles discharged round after round
towards the red skinned figure in the impact crater. Each bluish-green bolt of energy
packed enough power to render 200 full-grown men unconscious on impact and a
concussive force strong enough to push a car twenty feet. The red alien never moved as
the hail of shots rained down around him. As each shot landed, a cloud of dust rose,
obscuring the results of the attack from the attackers.
"Alright, hold fire men!" the Sarge called out. The call echoed as designated people
on the circle repeated the command. The Sarge looked below, trying to see anything in
the cloud of dust they'd just made. The wind refused to come and sweep away the cloud.
He would have to take more direct action. He spoke into the com-unit "Kenjo."
"Yes, Sarge."
"Take the two guys next to you and go down in the crater. Have three more follow
you three. Go in weapons ready and on maximum discharge."
"Shoot to kill, Sarge?"
"Yes." He replied. Not that he thought it would matter. He'd seen better, faster
soldiers try to shoot a Heavy in short range. They had barely squeezed a shot off before
the Heavy had killed them. And those were just training exercises…
"Stay on your toes, ladies." He called out to the remaining soldiers on the crater rim.
"Anything but one of us comes out of there, it gets shot." He heard the familiar whine
and click of the plasma rifles as they switched from stun to plasma discharge. The
soldiers remained quiet, nervously gripping their rifles and praying. The Sarge thought
that he should be feeling the same, but he'd been in so many life and death situations like
this, his mind didn't even let the fear register. So he waited…
---
Kildrun heard and felt the blasts coming before he ever actually saw them. Not that he
was afraid of them hitting him; he was far too fast for the slow moving projectiles. Before
he began to think about it, he was dodging the stun blasts. He could have blocked them,
but he figured that the cloud of dust would allow him to stay hidden while he got more
information about his attackers. By use of ki, he kept the cloud suspended in the impact
crater, hoping to lure in some of his attackers. It did not take long for him to be rewarded.
"…where the hell is that red bastard?" a voice said ahead in the dust.
"Hell if I know." He heard another voice say. "Any readings on the infra-red, Kenjo?"
"No, nothing. If he's like a Heavy, he could be anywhere, though."
The three remained silent until they literally walked into Kildrun.
"Holy ---"
"What the ---"
"Ack!!!"
Before they could continue their exclamations, Kildrun kicked one and punched the
other two with a minute fraction of his power. In a rush of air and dust, the three flew
outwards and upwards, toward the edge of the dust cloud. Kildrun smiled, hearing dull
crunches and expletives as the three landed. He turned his head, hearing three more sets
of footsteps rapidly approaching him. He rocketed toward them, kicking up dust and
letting go a half-snarl, half-yell that he hoped scared the hell out of the rest of his
attackers. The three soldiers, hearing the Namek, began shooting wildly, hoping to
somehow hit the unseen foe.
Kildrun flew in faster, batting away the stray blasts directly back at the soldiers. He
could hear the sickening impact as the bolts tore through their flesh.
"Enough of this undercover fighting," he thought, "let's bring it to into the light."
He stopped in mid-air and began powering up his energy. Around him, the wind began
to swirl and move, stirring up the dust surrounding him. Static electricity gathered like
small lightning bolts, arcing and shooting around his body. A yell began forming in
Kildrun's throat, finally escaping as he reached the right level of power.
"Yeee-aaaah!!!!" he yelled. His erupting aura forced the stirred wind outward,
blowing the dust away and revealing him to the frightened troops below.
---
The Watcher noted the exchange passively; Kildrun could slaughter that "elite" squad
with very little effort. He was more concerned with the five warriors heading towards the
battle. He hoped Kildrun had the power to deal with them. They wee Superhumans,
genetically engineered and trained to wield huge amounts of ki energy. They were
created and employed by all five governments, though the cost of creating and raising
each one kept the ranks to less than fifty per country. Of the five who approached, three
were "Mediums", with power levels ranging from 50,000 to 150,00. The other two were
"Heavies". These were the elite of the elite, from whom the Superhumans gained their
nickname. They ranged in power from 150,00 to 250,000. The Watcher could sense that
Kildrun had immense power, but he had a bad feeling that it would not be enough
today…
---
"FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!!!" the Sarge yelled. It was fruitless, however; Kildrun had
disappeared before any shots had come within ten feet. He dove down into the mass of
soldiers who were firing erratically, trying to hit what they could not see. He punched the
first soldier he encountered in the jaw, breaking his neck with a sickening pop and
sending the body flying into three more soldiers. Before the other soldiers began to
realize he was there, he had killed three more with equally bone shattering and lethal
efficiency.
Kildrun suddenly felt his antennae twitch. He instinctively dove to the right, looking
back as he rolled out of the way. His suspicions were confirmed as he saw a ki blast rip
into the remaining soldiers, mangling their bodies beyond recognition. He traced the faint
path of the ki trail upwards to a group of five people floating in the sky. He furrowed his
brow, trying to get a good read on their power levels. He didn't like what he sensed.
Three of them were somewhat less powerful than himself. The other two were about
even with him, at least at now, when he was only at about thirty percent.. Even at full
power, they might be stronger…he would have to be smart if he wanted to survive this
encounter. He stood up, dusting off his clothes, the trademark garb of the Namekian
Warrior. The remaining soldiers, stunned at first by the deaths of their teammates,
retrained their guns on Kildrun, preparing to shoot.
"I wouldn't if I were you.." Kildrun warned gruffly, raising his hand, and a ki ball, in
their direction, "I can kill you all before those five could stop me. Not that they care
about you all anyway."
The soldiers froze, then began backing away, weapons lowered. "To hell with it." the
Sarge yelled out, voicing what the others were thinking. "Let the Heavies deal with it.
Fall back!"
As the soldiers retreated, Kildrun focused his attention on the five who still floated in
the air, smirking confidently at him. They remained locked in a stare for several minutes
before Kildrun's patience ran out.
"Well, are you gonna fight me or bore me to death?" he called out. The group burst
out laughing, They descended to the ground quickly, still grinning at what they perceived
to be a joke.
"It seems this little red ant is in a hurry to be squashed." one said. The speaker, like his
comrades, wore what Kildrun thought looked like highly modified Saiyan armor. He
wore black boots and his hands were bare. Kildrun noticed an insignia and lettering he
couldn't recognize over the left breast. His skin was a very light pink and a shock of
brown hair fell over his head. He had cold, steely gray eyes and a mouth that seemed to
naturally set into a smirk. Kildrun could tell from his demeanor that he was the leader.
"Funny," Kildrun said sarcastically. "What the hell do you want?"
"We should ask you the same." the man replied. "It is illegal, by treaty with the Saiyan
Empire, for any unauthorized landing on this planet except by Saiyans."
"I don't recognize any treaties you have with those bastard monkies," Kildrun said,
spitting out the last words. "My planet isn't controlled by them."
"The other four laughed amongst themselves at Kildrun's audacious statements. The
leader held up his hand, silencing them.
"Perhaps this is true," he said, "but what you do or do not recognize is irrelevant. You
have landed in our country. Therefore you are at mercy to the whims of our government.
Or, more specifically," he said, grinning evilly, "our government's representatives. We
will be taking you back to our headquarters for 'questioning'."
Kildrun figured the "questioning" involved anything but questions. "And if I refuse?"
he asked tightly.
"Well, it's not a question of whether you're coming with us. You will be coming with
us, the question is if you'll walk there or be carried there."
It was Kildrun's turn to laugh. "I see. Well then, would you do me the favor of giving
me your names? I'll need them for your headstones."
The five burst out laughing again. "Damn, Captain," one of them said, "This one's got
a pair of grapefruits, don't he?"
"Indeed," the captain replied, grinning. "I don't usually grant requests, but I'll make
an exception.
"I am Kangru. My lieutenant Stavro," he pointed to the taller and paler man. He had
Norse features, with ice blue eyes and golden hair pulled back in a long ponytail. "My
two corporals, Allahn and Tuling," he pointed to two men with Asiatic features. "And
last my sergeant, Fei'lo." he pointed to the last man, a short, brown skinned man. "I've
never known a person wanting to know their assassin before dying…"
"You talk too much. I'm stronger than all of you."
"I think you'll be surprised. But definitely not pleasantly." Kangru motioned to the
others. "Let's see what our red friend can do, shall we?"
On cue, all five powered up quickly, stirring up the wind as their red auras exploded
outwards. Kildrun stared, mind boggled. They had just tripled their power levels in less
than ten seconds. He had to power up soon, or he would not stand a chance.
His thoughts were cut short when he saw Fei'lo suddenly appear in his face, fist aimed
for his gut. Kildrun dodged easily enough and prepared a counter but had to break it off
when he heard the telltale swish of a leg slicing through the air (and at his head). He
twisted to the side to avoid both the kick and the rapid punches of Fei'lo. He swung his
legs around and upward, not trying to land a blow so much as to give himself some room.
He noted with satisfaction that Fei'lo had received part of the blow but his other attacker,
Allahn, had only dodged. For a moment they traded blows and blocks, before Fei'lo
returned with Tuling. Kildrun knew he could handle these three, not because he was
stronger but because he could keep them off balance and uncoordinated with his speed.
But he still needed some room and some time to power up. If one of the others jumped in
now, he doubted he could hold out.
Kildrun continued dodging the blows that were raining in his direction, staying just a
hair's breadth ahead of his foes. Tuling, frustrated, lunged in hard with a punch, throwing
himself off balance and placing himself between Kildrun and the other two. Kildrun,
having sensed the blunder ahead of time, seized the opportunity by forcefully thrust
kicking the over-extended man into his partners. At the same time, he directed ki through
his outstretched leg, quickly pushing himself fifty feet away. He calculated having a
minute, at the most, to power up. It wouldn't be nearly enough time to power up fully,
but it would help till he make another opportunity to power up. Assuming the other two
didn't interfere…
As if they had heard his thoughts, Kangru and Stavro launched at him ten seconds into
his powerup. They zanzokened so fast he did not have the time to raise his guard. He
doubled over in intense pain, feeling the effects of Kangru's knee that had been savagely
jammed into his abdomen. He did not have time to contemplate the pain in his stomach,
as Stavro snapped his head up with a vicious high kick to his chin. Kildrun flipped
backwards uncontrollably, flying directly into a double axe handle blow from Kangru. He
crashed into a sand dune, creating a crater twenty feet wide in diameter. He lay for a
moment, trying to push back unconsciousness and shock brought on by a magnitude of
pain he had never before experienced. He slowly, painfully rose to his feet, mentally
checking his injuries. They were bad, but his natural healing ability would take care of it.
That is, if he could avoid getting pummeled any more.
"Hah, where is your honor?" he called out, pausing to cough and spit up blood.
"Attacking during a power up?"
"There is no honor." Kangru replied through a feral grin. "There is only winning and
losing. How you choose to arrive at either end is irrelevant." He motioned with his right
hand to his comrades, who fanned out to surround Kildrun. "Now, are you coming
quietly, or are shall we dance again?"
"A Namekian warrior never gives up, even in the face of death. You want me,"
Kildrun declared, "come get me."
"Have it your way." Kangru said. "And, by the way, even the power up you've
managed in the last thirty seconds isn't going to help you." He motioned to the others,
who promptly launched themselves at Kildrun, who yelled out, gathering as much power
as he could.
---
The Watcher could watch no longer. Even as he saw the merciless beating Kildrun was
taking, he reached out to the other Potentials, touching their minds. With this new
situation on the horizon, he would have to move his plan into action before he had
intended. He used his psychic powers to appear to each of the Potentials, saying what
they needed to hear to agree to meet with him. That accomplished, he reached out to
Kildrun, who refused to let go of consciousness, which fueled the anger of his attackers.
He spoke with the red Namek, convincing him that he would be safe. Reassured, Kildrun
stopped fighting, allowing himself to slip into unconsciousness.
