Hikari No Will Power

Act One, Chapter One
Overwhelming Darkness Crawls Ever So Slowly! Run, Trunks, Run!


"Ah, the Most High. Very well, then. Come with me, I will present to you our champion," a tall, muscular man clad in jet-black robes said in an extremely inert tone, his face concealed within a mask which, too, portrayed not a single emotion. His hands were clasped behind him --- a common military stance, yes --- in his usual, calm manner as he led the visitor through a dark and narrow tunnel of a military base of sorts.

When they stepped back into the light, the newcomer saw a vast area which appeared to be some kind of stadium, and a platform at the middle --- an arena, he concluded. The robed man led him down, past the ramps, past the bleachers, past the warm-up area, until they arrived at a table which was situated near a huge, metallic door with an electronic lock. An elderly woman around 60 years of age sat by the table, her eyes focused on an electronic data pad that was just beside her cup of hot coffee.

Upon hearing footsteps, she slowly looked up and pushed her thick glasses closer to her face, raising an eyebrow skeptically as she did so. "The matches aren't in a few hours," she uttered before she picked up the cup of coffee and took a sip, her eyebrow still arched up at a dangerous edge. "And weren't we given orders prohibiting the presence of those not from our league?"

"The Most High sent him," the muscular man replied, waving his hand casually to indicate the other. Then, he took out a data card from the folds of his robe and handed it to the woman. "His records are impressive, I must say. And the Most High was also very impressed with his performance as well, which is the reason why he was sent here and given all the privileges on this first mission of his."

She didn't look too struck as she browsed through the stranger's file. "Young man, you want to take our champion in your mission to enslave the Chikyuujins? If you are truly as great as you are said to be, you will be able to make Chikyuu spin at the palm of your hand without trouble, considering how weak and pathetic those humans are. But there is nothing I can do but obey the Most High," she blurted out with a sigh, giving in as she had no choice. Putting the data pad away, she took the communicator fastened to the belt of her robe and relayed her order.

The robed man's glowing golden eyes rested upon their guest, who did not look anywhere near muscular, but was one of the Most High's deadliest disciples as he was known as their faction's best strategist. Given the best workforce, it would be possible for the young man to enslave every planet in the galaxy, something which had not been accomplished ever since --- not by the saiyajins, who had been the most powerful and lethal band of warriors in the cosmos, nor by the tyrant who managed to keep them in bondage, the Ice-jin Freeza. "Kanryu," he began, ignoring the buzzing of static from the woman's communicator, which continued to cackle at their ongoing conversation. "You must be careful in handling our champion. Ten-Thirteen is our deadliest warrior yet."

"He will obey me, do not worry."

A thin smile appeared on the robed man's lips. "Ten-Thirteen had been a rebel, through all these years. A warrior nobody could stop, nobody could defeat, because of the tremendous power she possessed... and gained. She had been thrown into every battle possible, beaten up to near-death at each of those battles, and yet she emerged stronger after every single one, which was---"

"She?" Kanryu asked, interrupting the other's narration as surprise played on his somber features. "Your champion, Ten-Thirteen --- is a woman?"

He was met with aureate eyes that showed a hint of amusement at the corners. "Not a woman, Kanryu. A girl. You see, Ten-Thirteen is only seven years old," he paused, doing so in purpose to stare at the other and observe the change in his expression. And as expected, Kanryu let out a gasp, a gasp transparent enough that the old woman who was supposed to be talking to one of her other superiors muted the communicator to look at the visitor and laughed in her own amused way. "Do not worry, Kanryu," the robed man continued, patting the younger one assuringly on the shoulder. "You were not the first to show such surprise. On my first day here, three years ago, I also exhibited the same reaction when they presented to me a four-year-old who looked like a ragged doll --- and told me that she was the best of the best."

Awe remained on Kanryu's face as he asked, "How could anyone... become that powerful... in so short a time?"

"I asked the same thing," the old woman pitched in as she put her communicator and data pad aside, "when Ten-Thirteen won her first championship match in our quarterly tournament when she was only three years old. Nobody had the answer, though. That compelled me to know more about her past and her origins --- her race included --- but there was only two things I found out about her. One, she was dumped here in the academy to grow up and then be beaten up to death by the other warriors, as she was some sort of outcast from some planet in the Outer Rim that I haven't heard of. Two, she's definitely a Chikyuujin, although I don't think the test I conducted was accurate since I had to do that investigation in a hurry, without the others knowing."

The newcomer knitted his brows as a thought struck him, but he knew that he could not simply jump into conclusions. He had to know more about the mysterious girl that would soon be his servant, his champion. "Do you remember the name of the planet she was said to be from? I'm from the Outer Rim, and I certainly have contacts there. I'm sure they will be able to help us solve the riddle behind that girl, and her past, too."

"Something called... Kuru'rodai. I think."

Kanryu's eyes flew wide open at that, his crystalline olive eyes expressing the apparent recognition of the planet that was just mentioned. "Kuzure'odai," he whispered, out of breath all of a sudden, memories surging through him along with an emotion he could not seem to comprehend. Upon noticing that the others gazes were on him, he growled, "Get the girl."

When they did not budge, he repeated the order, though fiercer in that second time. "Get the girl!"

The woman grabbed her communicator almost immediately, shaking lightly as she did so, apparently taken aback by the young man's urgent and seemingly murderous tone. She snapped a follow-up of her previous order, which took quite too long to carry out to her surprise, her eyes flickering constantly to Kanryu to check if his patience was still intact.

A few seconds later, the bulky metallic door opened, and two of the academy's guards stepped out of the room concealed within and out of the darkness. They, too, were wearing robes similar to that of the other two entertaining the guest, a small handblaster strapped to each of their belts. And like the robed man with Kanryu, their faces were hidden beneath a mask that looked as lifeless as a corpse.

And behind them stood a little girl.

Kanryu started to tremble as he examined the girl's every feature: long and wild sable hair tied in a low ponytail, sharp and ice-cold cobalt eyes, slightly tanned skin, a somewhat disdainful smile, and a dignified stance that came with the smile which relayed the message that she was the strongest of all the warriors in the academy, the champion of the champions, the best of the best. He quivered not because he was afraid of her --- if he indeed was, he did not show it --- but because anger filled him to the brim upon recognizing the one who stood before him.

He screamed, fire sputtering from within him as his rage went out of control...

"Master, are you alright?"

His gaze, which flustered with all sorts of emotions --- anger, most especially --- was met with a concerned one from the same girl who caused him to erupt in such rage. He saw the same eyes, the same hair, the same stance, the same smile... but she was ten years older, and was now his most trusted servant. "Yes, dear. I'm fine. I just had a nightmare, that's all."

"In the middle of the afternoon?" she inquired, her voice dropping to that of a teasing tone.

A smile crossed Kanryu's lips as he got up from his chair and moved towards the window to gaze at the solemn afternoon sky thoughtfully. Then, he turned around to look at the 17-year-old and chuckled. "I suppose the person who introduced that word to the English language --- or Basic, as we call it universally --- did not put into consideration that bad dreams can strike anytime, even when the sun is directly above us."

"Is there anything else you need from me, my lord?"

"Nothing more at the moment," he replied, and upon saying those words, the warrior stepped back and disappeared into one of the room's four corners, as she was dismissed. Kanryu smiled; she had always been watching over him, watching over him from the shadows, yet her presence at such a close range had never been intimidating.

It had been ten years ever since he took in Ten-Thirteen, ten years ever since he was given his first assignment, ten years ever since he started his mission to enslave the inhabitants of Earth, and those ten years were too much for the members of the Most High's faction. They had grown impatient. They had grown tired of waiting. They had grown tired of Kanryu's antics.

But Kanryu did his job, and he did it well --- they just failed to see the fruit of his decade-long labor. He planted the seeds when he first came to Earth, and now, the roots have penetrated into the soil at such a depth that it would be impossible to uproot them.

He glanced at Ten-Thirteen, who was slumped against the wall at the far end of the room, hidden beneath the cloak of darkness, ever-ready to be called upon when needed. Kanryu could not help but smile at the simplicity of his right-hand's lifestyle. The warrior obeyed his every order without question, and executed each mission without hesitation.

They were the perfect tandem. He was a genius, and nobody in his league would deny that fact. Ten-Thirteen, on the other hand, was the best --- and the deadliest --- of the Most High's warriors, the champion of the champions. Kanryu had the wits, Ten-Thirteen had the power. The facts were simple and undeniable.

And with that, he knew they will never lose.

The police officer who was interrogating the CEO of Capsule Corporation --- the only survivor in the attack at the establishment's upper office --- was an elderly man in his late 30's, with neatly combed auburn hair and somewhat intimidating black eyes. His lack of interest was apparent, but he continued to listen to the young man as he had no choice in the situation. "A death threat, huh? Sure, kid. I've heard that one before," he said lazily as he slumped back into his comfortable reclining chair.

Trunks' eyebrow was then raised at a dangerous edge. "You don't believe me?"

The older man took a folder from one of the filing cabinets and pulled out a long piece of paper before he turned back to look at the demi-saiyajin. "You said that the person who you believe is behind all this called you up, and you gave us the time when the call happened and what telephone was used," he began, his expression evidently nonchalant. "Our technicians found no match. This paper contains all the calls --- outgoing and incoming --- made on that specific phone, and you can see that the call you told us about is nowhere to be found here."

"That's because the caller ID system screwed up at that specific call!" the lavender-haired young man replied with gritted teeth.

"I see. But isn't that too much of a coincedence?" he asked with a sneer, and he held out his hand before the other could interrupt. "I know, you're going to tell me that someone tampered with the system before the call, from the outside, so it would not be stated in the log. The question is, is that kind of thing possible, with the kind of gadgets your company manufactures? The gadgets by Capsule Corporation are all wired in such complicated ways that it would be impossible to break through the codes and tamper with their programming... and you know that."

Briefs-Vegeta bit his lip. He knew where the police officer was going, and he reminded himself not to fall for something as shallow as the sport he was being pulled into. They wanted to play with words, didn't they? Fine. They wanted to play cute? Fine. He can handle wordplay, even if he hated those games. And he can handle cute. "Nothing is perfect, sir, and you know that. We are not gods but mere mortals, and we have faults of our own. And it follows that our creations are not perfect. They have flaws and digital gaps of their own that can be used for outside manipulation."

"But nobody knows those flaws and digital gaps except those who are working for you --- and your yourself, Mr. Briefs-Vegeta," the officer countered, his raven eyes narrowing significantly. "Unlikely, you may say, but very logical."

"What are you trying to imply?!" Trunks snapped angrily as he slammed his fists on the table. "That I killed my own employees?!"

"Your words, not mine."

This time, the young man stood up, the anger glistening in his vibrant sapphire eyes as clear as day. "Damnit! This is a conspiracy! You think I'm not aware of it, but I am, very much, thank you! You set me up! You, and whoever you're working with! Bulma Briefs-Vegeta dies, leaving only a single heir who manages to rebuild Capsule Corporation in record time, and because the company is in full bloom, you and whoever you're working with --- a fellow businessman, I'm damn sure of that --- want to take over it and be filthy rich. But because that heir is getting in the way from you and whoever you're working with to get a hold of the Briefs' fortune, you plot something to get him out of the picture! You and whoever you're working with then have someone murder the employees of Capsule Corporation, put the blame on the CEO's shoulders so he will be sent to prison and then you can seize those riches without trouble! That's not so hard to figure out!"

"Excellent deduction... although it is completely outside the limits of sanity. Your ideas are just so out of this world, I wonder if you're from outer space yourself," the older man taunted as he got up to meet the other's angry gaze. "I'm sorry to tell you this, Mr. Briefs-Vegeta, but there's nothing you can do about it. All the evidences put you in the middle of the photograph."

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR DAMNED EVIDENCES!" Trunks bellowed as he grabbed the officer by the collar of his uniform and lifted the older man up in the air, shaking him threateningly. "Clear out my name, or else---"

He smirked. "Or else what? You're going to kill me? A wonderful threat, sir, but that will only make the charges on you heavier. First off, there are other policemen here, so if you will kill me, you'll have to kill them as well to avoid the news from leaking out. But you can't stop the truth. It will escape even the grasps of the lord of the underworld and set itself free to bring justice to those who deserved it yet were deprived of it."

"A man who speaks of justice yet denies it from those who deserve it should be denied of it as well! Walk your talk, for crying out loud!" the demi-saiyajin exclaimed in an utterly frustrated tone. "You're supposed to be a servant of justice, and yet here you are, a component in a conspiracy that is nowhere near the boundaries of justice!"

"You're a great philosopher," the officer commented mockingly, still ignoring his current predicament as if he had something up on his sleeve --- something which will prevent tragedy from falling on him when the young CEO would go berserk. "But I will not be twisted by your words. I have seen the evidences, and you are the one at fault. Yes, Mr. Briefs-Vegeta. You are under arrest for the murder of 13 Capsule Corporation employees, and for the meantime the prison will be your home, until your trial comes and you are sentenced accordingly. Don't expect too much, though, for death is the definitely punishment for such a crime. Just pray that our Prime Minister --- whether our current one will be retained or a new one will be sworn into office --- will change the law and have you imprisoned for life instead." His smile twisted into a more cruel one. "But that, is unlikely."

Trunks swallowed upon feeling the other police officers enter the room and surround him --- and there were more of them outside the police department, armed and ready to shoot him if he would do anything drastic. The demi-saiyajin knew that he had no way out. Not without a fight, and not without hurting the innocent.

Which left him only one choice.

To run for it.