Manus Cruentus
Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.
Prologue
A sharp wind tore at Dende as he stood upon the pinnacle of the lookout's highest tower, violently ruffling the current Kami's cloak. The short green Namekian teenager pointedly ignored the atmospheric phenomenon. There were greater matters at present than his physical comfort.
Dende abruptlty dismissed both the matters of the winds and the cacophony of pleas from the Earth in favour of the pitch black sky that robbed his eyes of half their powers of sight. He usually despised the night's existence, as the lack of light was nearly blinding for one accustomed to three local stars in the tapestry of the sky. However, tonight, as he sunk deeper into intensive meditation, Dende blessed the lack of celestial bodies in Earth's solar system. The void that darkness represented for Nameks, though counterproductive in most situations, was conductive to his rumination.
Utilizing his gnarled staff -- imbued with mystical energies in ancient times -- as a focal point, the current guardian of the Earth spread his senses across the planet in its entirety; no flea, or even microbe escaped his inspection. Slowly feeling the spirits of every living creature wash over him, Dende felt no unusual presences. Every creature, being and spirit was in its rightful place.
Gohan was staring dumbfounded at his mother, following the announcement of his impending education at Orange Star High, Krillin was being lectured by Juuhachi following his "accidental" dissappearance, just prior to the premier showing of "Barney and Friends, The Movie." Marron had been most dissapointed that her father had missed the film and if a killer android could endure such torture then her husband sure as hell would. Yamcha had just hit his one-hundred thirtieth home run of the year -- only seventy games into the season --, setting a pace that dwarfed any other baseball player the Earth had ever produced, or would in the years to come. Tien was sharpening his combat abilities, unknowingly going through a nearly identical kata to the one the prince of all Saiyans was practising feverently in his gravity chamber. Piccolo was meditating by his favourite waterfall and, finally, Gohan was standing behind him on the lookout, apparently seeking advice. Wait a second... Dende checked his senses a second time. He was detecting two Gohans and no Popo. Something was definitely wrong.
Awakening from his meditations, Dende abruptly spun to face his long-time friend. "Gohan what's going on?" he blurted out as he stared critically at the young man before him. There was no doubt about it. The man was Gohan; no ki technique could copy a target's energy accurately enough to deceive a God. Unfortunately, the other Gohan's ki also seemed faultless.
"How can there be two of you?" the Namekian prodigy concernedly asked his motionless demi-Saiyan friend, his brow furrowing in confusion. Dende began pacing in circles, desperately searching for an answer to the current quandry facing him. He inadvertently moved closer to Gohan in his random pacing and felt his danger sense blare in warning. "What the hell?" he thought to himself. "Gohan's never set off my danger sense before. Unless... No!"
His forearm no more than a blur of motion, the second Gohan struck Dende forcefully with a series of pressure points, effectively halting any motion Dende could attempt by temporarily cutting ki flow in the Namek's body by more than ninety-five percent.
"Simple Shiatsu techniques," the now obvious intruder muttered with an air of dissatisfaction. "Lord Ravanna was certain that this mud ball's Kami would be a threat. Too bad. I haven't had a decent challenge in centuries. I was really looking forward to confronting a worthy foe."
Dende couldn't speak or make any significant movements, but his Namekian hearing still functioned and so he easily discerned the remarks the Gohan look-alike had made. His eyes, one of the few parts of his body he retained control over, widened imperceptibly. The man had said that he served Ravanna. He had yet to read all the literature dealing with the universal pantheon and its foes that Kami's library had provided, but knowledge of Ravanna was not hard to come by. Even many Earthling scholars knew the demon lord by reputation at the very least.
As he felt his body telekineticly thrust towards the edge of the lookout, Dende forced his body, against its will, to face his captor, attempting to quell the fear and insecurity he felt, in order to present a strong facade to whatever had invaded the Earth this time. The lookout's tiles scraped across his skin, tearing and blistering the delicate flesh, but still he refused to yield. If he was going to die, the current guardian of the Earth would do so honourably and with courage. Fighting down the waves of fear that assailed him, Dende once again forced his eyes to face the Gohan impostor and, with a supreme effort, spat in the creature's face.
A spiteful grin alighting Gohan's features, the impostor mocked the planetary God: "That was an amusing, if futile gesture. After all, all I need do is alter my shape and your effort and your courageous, little show will be rendered meaningless."
Proving his words true, the creature turned its back on the Namekian healer and began to alter its shape as well as, impossibly, its ki. Turning back towards its victim, the shape shifter flashed another malevolent smirk in the direction of its prey, displaying small fangs to Dende. The Namekian guardian was stunned. The creature had become a mirror image of him right down to the identical chalk white robes and purple cape it wore! Dende was dumbstruck.
"So how do you like my new form, guardian?" the now jade creature asked, derision tainting the normally innocently sounding voice that Dende had always called his own. Gazing down at the demoralized deity, the demon snorted gleefully. "And please guardian, keep the fear coming. Your anxiety is positively titillating."
Once again firming his resolve, Dende simply stared at the monster before him and, finding his vocal chords finally responding to his instructions, spat at the evil that dwelt in his form: "I refuse to be your toy!"
Features darkening, the monster replied with a scowl. "You dare refuse me, guardian. Fine. You've made your choice. I would assume that your Namekian physiology will require an additional two minutes to dispell the effects of my shiatsu techniques. That should give you just enough time for the pain receptors in your nervous system to become operative before you strike the ground. Have an enjoyable... and painful journey. Goodbye guardian."
Wordlessly, the shape shifter proceeded to follow through with his threat, sharply kicking the Namekian teenager off the lookout. Dende had one-hundred twenty seconds to contemplate his situation. He prayed he could regain control over his ki, or atleast that his nervous system might not react as quickly as the monster atop the lookout had predicted. Unfortunately, prayer failed on both accounts. Rakshasa were never wrong.
Another merciless smirk appearing upon his countenance, the Rakshasa demon practically skipped towards the lookout's living quarters, drunk on the fear and pain energy that he'd absorbed from the late guardian of the Earth in his last moments. He had secured the lookout for his master's arrival and as default guardian would be sure to make Earth more like his own home. Pain and death were not foreign to Earthlings, but in the next month -- the period preceding his lord's arrival -- he intended to make certain that every human became more intimately acquainted with the two inevitable parts of life. Darkness was descending upon the Earth and Obitus -- the Rakshasa -- couldn't wait.
* Manus Cruentus means blood-stained hand in Latin.
Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.
Prologue
A sharp wind tore at Dende as he stood upon the pinnacle of the lookout's highest tower, violently ruffling the current Kami's cloak. The short green Namekian teenager pointedly ignored the atmospheric phenomenon. There were greater matters at present than his physical comfort.
Dende abruptlty dismissed both the matters of the winds and the cacophony of pleas from the Earth in favour of the pitch black sky that robbed his eyes of half their powers of sight. He usually despised the night's existence, as the lack of light was nearly blinding for one accustomed to three local stars in the tapestry of the sky. However, tonight, as he sunk deeper into intensive meditation, Dende blessed the lack of celestial bodies in Earth's solar system. The void that darkness represented for Nameks, though counterproductive in most situations, was conductive to his rumination.
Utilizing his gnarled staff -- imbued with mystical energies in ancient times -- as a focal point, the current guardian of the Earth spread his senses across the planet in its entirety; no flea, or even microbe escaped his inspection. Slowly feeling the spirits of every living creature wash over him, Dende felt no unusual presences. Every creature, being and spirit was in its rightful place.
Gohan was staring dumbfounded at his mother, following the announcement of his impending education at Orange Star High, Krillin was being lectured by Juuhachi following his "accidental" dissappearance, just prior to the premier showing of "Barney and Friends, The Movie." Marron had been most dissapointed that her father had missed the film and if a killer android could endure such torture then her husband sure as hell would. Yamcha had just hit his one-hundred thirtieth home run of the year -- only seventy games into the season --, setting a pace that dwarfed any other baseball player the Earth had ever produced, or would in the years to come. Tien was sharpening his combat abilities, unknowingly going through a nearly identical kata to the one the prince of all Saiyans was practising feverently in his gravity chamber. Piccolo was meditating by his favourite waterfall and, finally, Gohan was standing behind him on the lookout, apparently seeking advice. Wait a second... Dende checked his senses a second time. He was detecting two Gohans and no Popo. Something was definitely wrong.
Awakening from his meditations, Dende abruptly spun to face his long-time friend. "Gohan what's going on?" he blurted out as he stared critically at the young man before him. There was no doubt about it. The man was Gohan; no ki technique could copy a target's energy accurately enough to deceive a God. Unfortunately, the other Gohan's ki also seemed faultless.
"How can there be two of you?" the Namekian prodigy concernedly asked his motionless demi-Saiyan friend, his brow furrowing in confusion. Dende began pacing in circles, desperately searching for an answer to the current quandry facing him. He inadvertently moved closer to Gohan in his random pacing and felt his danger sense blare in warning. "What the hell?" he thought to himself. "Gohan's never set off my danger sense before. Unless... No!"
His forearm no more than a blur of motion, the second Gohan struck Dende forcefully with a series of pressure points, effectively halting any motion Dende could attempt by temporarily cutting ki flow in the Namek's body by more than ninety-five percent.
"Simple Shiatsu techniques," the now obvious intruder muttered with an air of dissatisfaction. "Lord Ravanna was certain that this mud ball's Kami would be a threat. Too bad. I haven't had a decent challenge in centuries. I was really looking forward to confronting a worthy foe."
Dende couldn't speak or make any significant movements, but his Namekian hearing still functioned and so he easily discerned the remarks the Gohan look-alike had made. His eyes, one of the few parts of his body he retained control over, widened imperceptibly. The man had said that he served Ravanna. He had yet to read all the literature dealing with the universal pantheon and its foes that Kami's library had provided, but knowledge of Ravanna was not hard to come by. Even many Earthling scholars knew the demon lord by reputation at the very least.
As he felt his body telekineticly thrust towards the edge of the lookout, Dende forced his body, against its will, to face his captor, attempting to quell the fear and insecurity he felt, in order to present a strong facade to whatever had invaded the Earth this time. The lookout's tiles scraped across his skin, tearing and blistering the delicate flesh, but still he refused to yield. If he was going to die, the current guardian of the Earth would do so honourably and with courage. Fighting down the waves of fear that assailed him, Dende once again forced his eyes to face the Gohan impostor and, with a supreme effort, spat in the creature's face.
A spiteful grin alighting Gohan's features, the impostor mocked the planetary God: "That was an amusing, if futile gesture. After all, all I need do is alter my shape and your effort and your courageous, little show will be rendered meaningless."
Proving his words true, the creature turned its back on the Namekian healer and began to alter its shape as well as, impossibly, its ki. Turning back towards its victim, the shape shifter flashed another malevolent smirk in the direction of its prey, displaying small fangs to Dende. The Namekian guardian was stunned. The creature had become a mirror image of him right down to the identical chalk white robes and purple cape it wore! Dende was dumbstruck.
"So how do you like my new form, guardian?" the now jade creature asked, derision tainting the normally innocently sounding voice that Dende had always called his own. Gazing down at the demoralized deity, the demon snorted gleefully. "And please guardian, keep the fear coming. Your anxiety is positively titillating."
Once again firming his resolve, Dende simply stared at the monster before him and, finding his vocal chords finally responding to his instructions, spat at the evil that dwelt in his form: "I refuse to be your toy!"
Features darkening, the monster replied with a scowl. "You dare refuse me, guardian. Fine. You've made your choice. I would assume that your Namekian physiology will require an additional two minutes to dispell the effects of my shiatsu techniques. That should give you just enough time for the pain receptors in your nervous system to become operative before you strike the ground. Have an enjoyable... and painful journey. Goodbye guardian."
Wordlessly, the shape shifter proceeded to follow through with his threat, sharply kicking the Namekian teenager off the lookout. Dende had one-hundred twenty seconds to contemplate his situation. He prayed he could regain control over his ki, or atleast that his nervous system might not react as quickly as the monster atop the lookout had predicted. Unfortunately, prayer failed on both accounts. Rakshasa were never wrong.
Another merciless smirk appearing upon his countenance, the Rakshasa demon practically skipped towards the lookout's living quarters, drunk on the fear and pain energy that he'd absorbed from the late guardian of the Earth in his last moments. He had secured the lookout for his master's arrival and as default guardian would be sure to make Earth more like his own home. Pain and death were not foreign to Earthlings, but in the next month -- the period preceding his lord's arrival -- he intended to make certain that every human became more intimately acquainted with the two inevitable parts of life. Darkness was descending upon the Earth and Obitus -- the Rakshasa -- couldn't wait.
* Manus Cruentus means blood-stained hand in Latin.