Author's Note: This isn't going to degenerate into a horrifying rape scene, if anyone was worried. Nione is a sick bastard, but he's also in a thirteen year old's body, and. . . yeah. Nione is nuts. Probably the mental battle with Gohan fractured his sanity, or perhaps he was slightly unhinged to begin with. Something weird is that I always intended for Cell to have a tail, but forgot to write it in. When I revise this thing after I finish it, I have to be sure to include it. Damn it. It was going to be important too. Oh well. Goku turned out oddly practical in this chapter. Whoever thought he would be the sensible one?
Cell had good reason to wonder why no one had shown up yet. While certainly bigger than King Kai's planet, the Grand Kai's home wasn't much bigger than the Earth's moon (or lack thereof, seeing as Earth no longer had a moon,) and had several thousand residents. Of course, Cell had been stuck at a desk for a week, and therefore had no way of knowing that a tournament's planning had been in the works for the past few days. This one wasn't the extravaganza of the last, but still held the interest of dead heroes who didn't have much to do. Goku probably should have mentioned it, but since he had other plans involving Cell, hot springs, and sparring, he wouldn't have mentioned it even if he had remembered, which he really should have, even with his highly selective memory. It wasn't like Pikkon hadn't argued with him about it enough.
Yesterday "Goku, you have to fight in the tournament. I need some competition." "Huh? What about Olibu?" "He has no chance against me Goku. It isn't even worth signing up if you don't participate." "I guess I see your point, but I've been planning my trip with Cell for months now."
Arguing was all rather relative. Pikkon wasn't Krillin. While the bald monk would bicker about something for months, Pikkon knew when someone was adamant about something. His talk with Goku was about as argumentative as he got.
The Piccolo look-alike wasn't one to be figurative, which was one of the reasons he and Goku got along so well. When he realized Goku had no intention of participating, Pikkon decided he wasn't going to bother either, which sent West Kai into fits.
It was about an hour into the tournament that Pikkon noticed the air seemed to be vibrating oddly. He was in the audience, watching Olibu thrash his way through his opponents, and the atmosphere seemed off. His race had never developed ki sensing to any great degree, but the alien's senses were very attuned to his environment, and it often worked just as well in battle. (If this planet had seasons, I would think it was a natural disaster of some sort, but the weather never changes here.) A young woman with dark green hair sitting next to him suddenly turned her head and stared off into the distance. She looked at him. "Hey, do you feel that?" Pikkon nodded. "A storm is coming." She looked confused. "There are never storms here." "I know. That's what worries me."
----
Nione. If Cell were alive, he would kill Vegeta. What had possessed the saiyan prince to tell saiyan legends to the brat? That was the only way Cell could think of that Gohan could possibly know the name of the first super-saiyan. There was always the possibility of racial memory, but remembering specific names was taking that a bit far. Then again, this was the saiyan race. Who knows what the parents passed down to their spawn as a matter of course?
Nione. If Cell happened to get through this alive. . . well, with his soul reasonably intact at any rate, he would never eat an onion again. Or rice. Or carrots, Kami knew it was at least partially Goku's fault for mating with a human in the first place. Earth was in trouble if split personalities were a trait of crossbreeding and Vegeta's brat got schizophrenic tendencies, though that alternate Trunks had seemed sane enough. Of course, there was no way in hell the saiyan prince was going to raise his son as a human, so this version of Trunks would probably avoid that particular calamity as well.
Nione. Cell tried to detach himself, but any way you look at it, seeing skin being burnt off a layer at a time was not intellectually stimulating. All it stimulated was the pain receptors in his brain, and Cell mentally wrote down another line on his 'Where Gero Screwed Up' list. Why did the good doctor (insert sarcasm here) ever think that leaving him the ability to feel pain in full force was a good idea? He should have broken all the bones in that man's body when he had the chance.
Cell wondered if Gero had left him tear ducts. Cell wondered why he cared. Cell wondered why he simply didn't use his Instant Transmission and escape. There was no where to go that Nione wouldn't find him. Some things were inevitable. Fate was one of them.
. . .how interesting. It was indeed possible for androids to cry.
----
Saiyan bodies are durable. Even with the loss of most of their blood and several limbs, a saiyan will stay conscious. Goku had proved this theory when he was able to say a few last words to Piccolo after the Namek had punched a hole through his chest with that Special Beam Cannon. Saiyan souls are even hardier. Nothing short the obliteration of their entire bodies will keep a saiyan down. As it was, Goku was out for at least three minutes after Gohan disintegrated his chest. He awoke slowly, aware that he was dangerously low on energy, and probably couldn't stand up. He did, however, possess enough energy to prop himself up slightly on one elbow and open his eyes. What the saiyan then saw stilled him, and he finally understood why Vegeta had once so vehemently denounced the crossbreeding of saiyans with other races. Gohan had been raised a human, than thrust into battle expected to show his saiyan heritage. Goku hadn't considered the effects of this on his son. No conflict was in Goku despite his head injury, but his blood was pure saiyan. Gohan's two sides were fighting. Gohan's saiyan side had won.
Gohan was no longer Goku's son. He was Kakarrot's, what Goku had been, but was no longer. Gohan was gone. Nione was not. Goku planned to correct that problem. He had to have a plan. A good first step would be getting vertical. Attempt one was a failure. Damn. Looked like it was going to take a while.
----
Nione smiled. The screams were not coming, which didn't please him, but the tears were, which did. He hadn't noticed them at first. Bent over in a probably instinctual attempt to protect his vital organs (futile, as most of them were probably ruptured already), Cell's face was hidden from view. It wasn't until some liquid (definitely not blood, the android's distinct violet life force was so bright in color you'd think it would glow in the dark) dripped onto the ground, that Nione knew the android was not as effective at divorcing his mind from his body as he would have liked.
It had taken long enough. The android didn't have much in the way of skin left. The slow torture had taken a lot of patience, which wasn't a saiyan trait, but Nione liked to think he had learned something from his long imprisonment in the darkest corner of Gohan's mind. He had made sure to wait until just after the initial climax of agony before he started with some delicate ki manipulation to burn away the next layer of nerves. Considering how many layers of nerves there were. . . but a quick death lacked the artistry of what Nione was trying to accomplish.
The half-saiyan silently walked over to where the android was crouched, breathing raggedly in obvious difficulty. Nione took a light hold of his victim's chin, and pulled the android's gaze up to meet his own, Cell no longer possessing enough energy or strength of will to resist him. Nione's smile grew slightly reverent. Yes, it was his best work, even overcoming their first encounter on Earth. The android was hardly an innocent, but two pathways of tears running down his face lent a strange purity to Cell's visage.
"Beautiful." He stroked a thumb along the cheek of his masterpiece. There was a slight flinch. "Flawless." He tightened his grip, beginning to draw blood where the nails met the skin as his tour de force made a weak effort to break away. Nione leaned forward, readying himself. It was always important to leave a mark, or else some imposter might take credit for his work, which would never do. Passing by the ear, he whispered, "Gero succeeded. You truly are. . . perfect." He bit down. There was a chocked off scream. Exquisite, though it could not compare to the tears. Those were truly his masterstroke. It had taken a long time. This unparalleled marvel before him, his creation, had been worth the wait.
A slight pain in his back, by the feel of it an energy blast. It didn't really hurt, but it implied things Nione wasn't ready to deal with. Someone was trying to interfere. Nothing made the demi-saiyan angrier. He whipped around, the android's blood still staining his lips and running down his chin. Whoever dared to try and impede him. . .
No one was there. Even his father's corpse. . . Nione's eyes narrowed. Only a pool of blood remained where his father had fallen. That meant. . . the demi-saiyan's eyes widened, and he turned back. His masterpiece was gone. Nione felt his hands slowly clench, his nails digging into his palms with enough force that they broke the skin.
Someone was going to pay dearly for this.
-----
Goku couldn't think of a course of action. The end result was clear; Nione had to die. However, there were several major obstacles to this, number one being Nione was technically already dead. Number two was that it hardly mattered. Goku was alive, but given enough time the blood loss would kill him. Well, not kill him, but incapacitate him enough that it amounted to the same thing. He couldn't think straight, could hardly walk straight, could hardly stand up for that matter. Cell wasn't precisely in worse condition, but something told Goku his friend couldn't be less help if he was dead. Even at full power, he wasn't sure that the two of them together could defeat the soul that had once been his son. Gohan had obviously been training in the three years since his death.
It was times like this that Goku was especially glad he had hit his head all those years ago. Retreat wasn't in a saiyan's vocabulary. Goku hadn't been raised saiyan and didn't think like one most of the time, so as soon as the opportune moment presented itself (that moment being rather disgusting, as it occurred when Nione had been distracted by his seeming attempts at chewing Cell's head off where the android's neck met his shoulders), Goku took it, and quickly threw a ki blast that wouldn't have hurt Krillin, much less Gohan, therefore it didn't have a chance of even bruising Nione in Gohan, but it had the desired effect nonetheless. Nione turned around. When he turned back, Goku was already gone, and had taken Cell with him.
He could not go to the tournament. The combined force of the dead heroes could conceivably slow Nione down, but it wasn't worth the obliteration of all their souls just to buy them some time. There was no where in Otherworld that anyone had enough power to stop Nione, and Goku didn't know any healers who could eliminate the wounds Nione had inflicted on Cell and himself. So Goku did something stupid. The number one rule of Instant Transmission, he had been told, was that you always had to have a destination in mind when you used it, or you could end up anywhere, most probably in the middle of space which often ended in a grisly death for those who needed oxygen. Luckily, Goku and Cell were already dead. And if they stayed where they were, well, there are worse things than death.
Elsewhere. . .
He didn't care anymore. West Kai's platitudes had rarely helped in the best of circumstances, and it wasn't the best of circumstances when you felt like your nerve endings were being burnt off. He wanted Babidi to die. He didn't care how that was accomplished, as long as his tormenter (and that accursed demon servant of his, Dabura) perished as slowly as possible at his hand. That was his first mistake. His second was letting down his mind shields. His second mistake was also his last.
Cell had good reason to wonder why no one had shown up yet. While certainly bigger than King Kai's planet, the Grand Kai's home wasn't much bigger than the Earth's moon (or lack thereof, seeing as Earth no longer had a moon,) and had several thousand residents. Of course, Cell had been stuck at a desk for a week, and therefore had no way of knowing that a tournament's planning had been in the works for the past few days. This one wasn't the extravaganza of the last, but still held the interest of dead heroes who didn't have much to do. Goku probably should have mentioned it, but since he had other plans involving Cell, hot springs, and sparring, he wouldn't have mentioned it even if he had remembered, which he really should have, even with his highly selective memory. It wasn't like Pikkon hadn't argued with him about it enough.
Yesterday "Goku, you have to fight in the tournament. I need some competition." "Huh? What about Olibu?" "He has no chance against me Goku. It isn't even worth signing up if you don't participate." "I guess I see your point, but I've been planning my trip with Cell for months now."
Arguing was all rather relative. Pikkon wasn't Krillin. While the bald monk would bicker about something for months, Pikkon knew when someone was adamant about something. His talk with Goku was about as argumentative as he got.
The Piccolo look-alike wasn't one to be figurative, which was one of the reasons he and Goku got along so well. When he realized Goku had no intention of participating, Pikkon decided he wasn't going to bother either, which sent West Kai into fits.
It was about an hour into the tournament that Pikkon noticed the air seemed to be vibrating oddly. He was in the audience, watching Olibu thrash his way through his opponents, and the atmosphere seemed off. His race had never developed ki sensing to any great degree, but the alien's senses were very attuned to his environment, and it often worked just as well in battle. (If this planet had seasons, I would think it was a natural disaster of some sort, but the weather never changes here.) A young woman with dark green hair sitting next to him suddenly turned her head and stared off into the distance. She looked at him. "Hey, do you feel that?" Pikkon nodded. "A storm is coming." She looked confused. "There are never storms here." "I know. That's what worries me."
----
Nione. If Cell were alive, he would kill Vegeta. What had possessed the saiyan prince to tell saiyan legends to the brat? That was the only way Cell could think of that Gohan could possibly know the name of the first super-saiyan. There was always the possibility of racial memory, but remembering specific names was taking that a bit far. Then again, this was the saiyan race. Who knows what the parents passed down to their spawn as a matter of course?
Nione. If Cell happened to get through this alive. . . well, with his soul reasonably intact at any rate, he would never eat an onion again. Or rice. Or carrots, Kami knew it was at least partially Goku's fault for mating with a human in the first place. Earth was in trouble if split personalities were a trait of crossbreeding and Vegeta's brat got schizophrenic tendencies, though that alternate Trunks had seemed sane enough. Of course, there was no way in hell the saiyan prince was going to raise his son as a human, so this version of Trunks would probably avoid that particular calamity as well.
Nione. Cell tried to detach himself, but any way you look at it, seeing skin being burnt off a layer at a time was not intellectually stimulating. All it stimulated was the pain receptors in his brain, and Cell mentally wrote down another line on his 'Where Gero Screwed Up' list. Why did the good doctor (insert sarcasm here) ever think that leaving him the ability to feel pain in full force was a good idea? He should have broken all the bones in that man's body when he had the chance.
Cell wondered if Gero had left him tear ducts. Cell wondered why he cared. Cell wondered why he simply didn't use his Instant Transmission and escape. There was no where to go that Nione wouldn't find him. Some things were inevitable. Fate was one of them.
. . .how interesting. It was indeed possible for androids to cry.
----
Saiyan bodies are durable. Even with the loss of most of their blood and several limbs, a saiyan will stay conscious. Goku had proved this theory when he was able to say a few last words to Piccolo after the Namek had punched a hole through his chest with that Special Beam Cannon. Saiyan souls are even hardier. Nothing short the obliteration of their entire bodies will keep a saiyan down. As it was, Goku was out for at least three minutes after Gohan disintegrated his chest. He awoke slowly, aware that he was dangerously low on energy, and probably couldn't stand up. He did, however, possess enough energy to prop himself up slightly on one elbow and open his eyes. What the saiyan then saw stilled him, and he finally understood why Vegeta had once so vehemently denounced the crossbreeding of saiyans with other races. Gohan had been raised a human, than thrust into battle expected to show his saiyan heritage. Goku hadn't considered the effects of this on his son. No conflict was in Goku despite his head injury, but his blood was pure saiyan. Gohan's two sides were fighting. Gohan's saiyan side had won.
Gohan was no longer Goku's son. He was Kakarrot's, what Goku had been, but was no longer. Gohan was gone. Nione was not. Goku planned to correct that problem. He had to have a plan. A good first step would be getting vertical. Attempt one was a failure. Damn. Looked like it was going to take a while.
----
Nione smiled. The screams were not coming, which didn't please him, but the tears were, which did. He hadn't noticed them at first. Bent over in a probably instinctual attempt to protect his vital organs (futile, as most of them were probably ruptured already), Cell's face was hidden from view. It wasn't until some liquid (definitely not blood, the android's distinct violet life force was so bright in color you'd think it would glow in the dark) dripped onto the ground, that Nione knew the android was not as effective at divorcing his mind from his body as he would have liked.
It had taken long enough. The android didn't have much in the way of skin left. The slow torture had taken a lot of patience, which wasn't a saiyan trait, but Nione liked to think he had learned something from his long imprisonment in the darkest corner of Gohan's mind. He had made sure to wait until just after the initial climax of agony before he started with some delicate ki manipulation to burn away the next layer of nerves. Considering how many layers of nerves there were. . . but a quick death lacked the artistry of what Nione was trying to accomplish.
The half-saiyan silently walked over to where the android was crouched, breathing raggedly in obvious difficulty. Nione took a light hold of his victim's chin, and pulled the android's gaze up to meet his own, Cell no longer possessing enough energy or strength of will to resist him. Nione's smile grew slightly reverent. Yes, it was his best work, even overcoming their first encounter on Earth. The android was hardly an innocent, but two pathways of tears running down his face lent a strange purity to Cell's visage.
"Beautiful." He stroked a thumb along the cheek of his masterpiece. There was a slight flinch. "Flawless." He tightened his grip, beginning to draw blood where the nails met the skin as his tour de force made a weak effort to break away. Nione leaned forward, readying himself. It was always important to leave a mark, or else some imposter might take credit for his work, which would never do. Passing by the ear, he whispered, "Gero succeeded. You truly are. . . perfect." He bit down. There was a chocked off scream. Exquisite, though it could not compare to the tears. Those were truly his masterstroke. It had taken a long time. This unparalleled marvel before him, his creation, had been worth the wait.
A slight pain in his back, by the feel of it an energy blast. It didn't really hurt, but it implied things Nione wasn't ready to deal with. Someone was trying to interfere. Nothing made the demi-saiyan angrier. He whipped around, the android's blood still staining his lips and running down his chin. Whoever dared to try and impede him. . .
No one was there. Even his father's corpse. . . Nione's eyes narrowed. Only a pool of blood remained where his father had fallen. That meant. . . the demi-saiyan's eyes widened, and he turned back. His masterpiece was gone. Nione felt his hands slowly clench, his nails digging into his palms with enough force that they broke the skin.
Someone was going to pay dearly for this.
-----
Goku couldn't think of a course of action. The end result was clear; Nione had to die. However, there were several major obstacles to this, number one being Nione was technically already dead. Number two was that it hardly mattered. Goku was alive, but given enough time the blood loss would kill him. Well, not kill him, but incapacitate him enough that it amounted to the same thing. He couldn't think straight, could hardly walk straight, could hardly stand up for that matter. Cell wasn't precisely in worse condition, but something told Goku his friend couldn't be less help if he was dead. Even at full power, he wasn't sure that the two of them together could defeat the soul that had once been his son. Gohan had obviously been training in the three years since his death.
It was times like this that Goku was especially glad he had hit his head all those years ago. Retreat wasn't in a saiyan's vocabulary. Goku hadn't been raised saiyan and didn't think like one most of the time, so as soon as the opportune moment presented itself (that moment being rather disgusting, as it occurred when Nione had been distracted by his seeming attempts at chewing Cell's head off where the android's neck met his shoulders), Goku took it, and quickly threw a ki blast that wouldn't have hurt Krillin, much less Gohan, therefore it didn't have a chance of even bruising Nione in Gohan, but it had the desired effect nonetheless. Nione turned around. When he turned back, Goku was already gone, and had taken Cell with him.
He could not go to the tournament. The combined force of the dead heroes could conceivably slow Nione down, but it wasn't worth the obliteration of all their souls just to buy them some time. There was no where in Otherworld that anyone had enough power to stop Nione, and Goku didn't know any healers who could eliminate the wounds Nione had inflicted on Cell and himself. So Goku did something stupid. The number one rule of Instant Transmission, he had been told, was that you always had to have a destination in mind when you used it, or you could end up anywhere, most probably in the middle of space which often ended in a grisly death for those who needed oxygen. Luckily, Goku and Cell were already dead. And if they stayed where they were, well, there are worse things than death.
Elsewhere. . .
He didn't care anymore. West Kai's platitudes had rarely helped in the best of circumstances, and it wasn't the best of circumstances when you felt like your nerve endings were being burnt off. He wanted Babidi to die. He didn't care how that was accomplished, as long as his tormenter (and that accursed demon servant of his, Dabura) perished as slowly as possible at his hand. That was his first mistake. His second was letting down his mind shields. His second mistake was also his last.