Eastern Capital, Earth
High above the Eastern Capital of Planet Earth, what appeared to be a young man was flying relatively quickly. His narrow, silver-eyes surveyed the city quickly, his black-tresses blowing fiercely against the slipstream. His attire — consisting of white and green shirt, an armband which red 'RANGER', and slim jeans — gave away what he was fairly quickly; a park ranger of an island off the coast of the main continent. He was searching for something, that much was apparent, and was inwardly cursing his inability to detect ki. Yet even if he could, that ability may not have helped him with the utter rush of humans on the streets and in the skies underneath him.
Down below, the city was in an absolute panic. In spite of the M.E.C.C. having protected the vast majority of the cities, the very announcement of that devil creature's return had sent the world into a state of absolute mania. Some were considering creating and boarding an intergalactic ark for the sake of escaping Earth. Many were hoping for Mr. Satan to save the day. And still some were hoping for the mysterious red-haired deity who had fought against the God of Destruction to come.
But this man was rather hands-on. In spite of the surging stream of human bodies within the Eastern Capital, his keen eyes — honed from his years fending off poachers, not to speak of the enhancements he'd acquired even further back in the past — managed to focus in on a house that was relatively humble in looks, amidst the developed capital city. Descending towards the house, the man landed in a front yard, appearing to be meticulously kept. Approaching the front door, he rapped on it as gently as he could. Even in this day and age, where everything was made to be more durable, it was simply better not to take chances.
The door opened, the man finding himself greeted by a beautiful, young blonde teenage girl, her hair done up in a ponytail. Her onyx eyes widened in surprise, a gasp escaping her throat. "Uncle Seventeen! It's you!"
"Good to see you, kid," Android No. 17 casually greeted his niece. "Where's your mother?"
Royal Nature Park, Earth, Earlier
"...a husk before I exact my revenge. That I promise you."
Following the trailing off of the familiar voice, No. 17 felt a mixture of emotions coursing through his body. Being a man normally composed, the sensation of contempt, fury, and concern washing over him was entirely new to him. The cyborg had been intending to try and get some relaxation in his own home, having precious little free time performing the duties of a park ranger. No. 17 immediately shut off the television, unwilling to bear witness to Cell's smug face any longer. Unable to suppress his rage-induced trembling on his own, No. 17 felt a thin hand on his shoulder; this feeling caused his shuddering to subside. Looking behind him, No. 17 was greeted by the kindly face of his own wife, Rurīro.
The woman was pale of skin, with dark brown hair that was cut just above her shoulders. She had a kindly face with only a hint of sternness, otherwise hidden behind a set of horn-rimmed eyeglasses. Her attire was relatively subdued, consisting of a dark brown sweater, dark black jeans, both covered by an apron, indicating she had been busying herself with housework until her husband had turned on the television.
"That's him, isn't it?" Rurīro inquired gently.
No. 17 nodded, his voice still dry. It wasn't fear that kept him mute — he was beyond that now, it had been years and the events of Cell had been placed well behind him — but his persisting inability to process what he was feeling. He didn't ease himself out of his armchair so much as he did throw himself upward. Finally, he found his voice. "I didn't ever think Cell would actually come back." Making his way towards the front door, No. 17 put on his footwear, strapping the quickly and easily, slipping on his gloves soon after.
"I'm not just going to let that bastard run amok," proclaimed No. 17. "He's out of his mind if he thinks he can just do what he wants this time."
Rurīro's face didn't break from her tender smile. Part of her wanted to ask No. 17 to stay with her — with their children and protect them — yet she reigned this in. Her husband may have a propensity for recklessness, a slight exasperation to which she shared with her sister-in-law during happier times, but he'd grown out of simple suicidal overconfidence. So, swallowing her objections, Rurīro assented.
The cyborg flashed a considerate smile of his own; one that he reserved for his family. "If the children wake up, tell them I've gone back in to work." Stepping outside, he added, "I won't be gone long."
Eastern Capital, Earth, Present
Marron had ushered her uncle into the house, away from the chaos. The cyborg would have relaxed himself in their sitting room, but found the current predicament enough to leave him sufficiently wired. No. 17 didn't have to wait long. Looking very surprised, but not altogether unhappy to see him, No. 18 greeted him casually. The widowed mother of one knew without even asking exactly why her brother had made the trip all the way from his island — which he scarcely left except to spend time with his wife and children, being very serious about his position as a park ranger — to the Eastern Capital.
"So you're considering taking the fight to him?" inquired No. 18.
"It's beyond consideration at this point," replied No. 17 casually. "I managed to come back home after my first day off in a solid month, only to be met with what I'm sure he considered a 'greeting'." No. 17 was, of course, referring to Cell's rain of hellfire which had assaulted the entire planet. It had taken him a ridiculous amount of effort to successfully protect both his family and the island on which he protected endangered species — yet, through his clever use of his own techniques, no living thing had been harmed on his watch. "But what about you? I was under the impression you'd given up fighting."
"Don't be an idiot," snapped No. 18 bitterly. "If you think I'm that weak-willed, then you don't know me well enough, 17." Her piercing eyes stared her brother down, and for the first time in many years, No. 17 felt taken aback. "Were you expecting me to be over my husband's death? I've moved on, but you're never over something like that." Her eyes were shining now, burning with fierce emotion that bled into her voice. "Losing something that important...the feeling of something being ripped out of your life, never goes away." Clenching her fist, she let the frustration flow through her body. "I'm not so weak, however, that I wouldn't fight someone like Cell. Marron is all I have left; I'm not losing her now too."
So it's settled," said No. 17 simply. "All that's left is the matter of getting to him. That damned Dr. Gero never installed any way for us to detect energy; we're going to be searching blindly until we find him."
No. 18 blinked. Normally, her brother would have been highly inquisitive; asking questions and expressing curiosity was in his nature. She was happy, even relieved, with his acceptance. Allowing her to be that open without interrogation felt welcoming. Smiling bitterly, No. 18 brushed her hair out of her eyes.
"You can't detect energy. I can."
At this, No. 17 felt astonished. It took quite another moment before he was able to voice this feeling. "That's impossible; Gero never installed sensors in us, and we're far too old to be joking about which one of us is better. "
"I'm not joking around," admonished the older twin. "These heavy feelings...they make you turn to the most desperate options. These sensors—" her silver eyes glinted dangerously "were installed by Bulma."
The continuation of their conversation was preceded by the slightest pause. No. 18 had instructed her daughter to take refuge at the centre of the Capital city, where the M.E.C.C. was generated and thus was at its strongest, should the need to utilise that barrier came up again. Only when her daughter had reluctantly followed her orders did the cybernetically-enhanced duo step out of No. 18's home and into the streets of the Eastern Capital.
No. 17 still couldn't believe that his sister had allowed for more modifications. While they had come to accept the changes made to their bodies — it was one of the few things that had given them any control in a life long since dictated by other people — the thought of further changes was something that neither one of them had been too keen to accept. Nos. 17 and 18 were who they were now, after all, and weren't keen to allow anyone to change them ever again.
To let someone, even Bulma, make additional enhancements to her body... No. 17 glanced at his elder twin, who was scanning the horizon, with something resembling a mixture of pity and understanding. He really meant a lot to you, didn't he?
"There he is!" She exclaimed, her eyes shifting back into a crystalline blue with a serious look etched over her bangs-whipping brow. "Come on!"
With a grim look on his own face, the twins soared off across the horizon while belting past the speed of sound a dozen times over.
Rushing to their unpleasant reunion.
The God of Earth had felt it. This familiar sensation of terror and extinguishing of life. Like an unholy union of his experience as a fledgling deity of this world when Majin Bū wreaked havoc and before that when he had just become recently informed of Cell's clandestine ploy to wrap the whole native population in a disturbing game to laud his own sense of self worth and petty entertainment. This time, there was no real objective beyond utter chaos and destruction.
Cell wasn't here for games; he was here for revenge.
"Cell's wiped out so much," He gaped, his eyes opening as his emerald visage paled into an almost sickly complexion. "Even with the shields you made, everything living outside of it has been reduced to nothing!"
"He's at his old tricks again," The lavender haired scientist spoke. Though she had been healed since her arrival on the divine orbiting palace, she still had the look of weariness that blended well with her sense of dread. Despite that look adorned across her visage, she was remarkably youthful since the young god of Earth last saw her; in fact, it looked as if she had regressed in age to a time before he last remembered seeing her on Namek decades ago. Was she a teenager now, or was his mind playing tricks on him?
Meanwhile the aforementioned scientist's mind reeled. Her blue eyes shrank and a dawning realization of why he was still moving with such purposeful destruction. "I left Qirka to help assist in possibly detaining, if not outright destroying him. He must have evolved further since the last time he was alive to have escaped her clutches."
"And from what I sensed, they barely escaped with their lives," The viridescent deity swallowed heavily, turning his lean body around to address the slightly taller scientist adorned in her long-coat of white fatigues. "Majin Bū is still asleep, and his family was no match. Qirka has been incapacitated and Rayo is either dead or..."
Biting a gloved thumb, Bulma paced around, furiously looking for a way to help secure their survival against this impending doom. What could they do against something as sophisticated and deadly as Gero's deadliest creation? Was all of her work for naught? Was this as far as she could take her brilliant mind against such a nefarious outdated piece of tech?
"Master Dende," Popo spoke up, the onyx skinned Djinn breaking his silence as he raised his pudgy fingers with his normally placid visage expression a look of worry; something he rarely showed to anyone unless it was for good reason. "Have the Kaio not returned with an answer to your calls? Can they not tell what fate has befallen Earth?"
Grimly shaking his head, Dende reported aloud to the pacing Bulma's chagrin and his own servant's dismay, "Only Kaio of our side of the Universe has. He said he made contact with the Kaioshin, but he hasn't been able to contact Beerus or his attendant Whis. The Kaioshin is absent, more than likely with them and I can't reach my telepathy that far."
"This isn't good," Popo intoned, looking down at his hands as he spoke aloud his worry. "All of our best fighters are off world, and what hope we had was soundly defeated. How are we supposed to stop Cell without anyone standing in his way?"
An instant later, a pair of taps braced on the tiled floor behind them, bringing a distinct chill in the air as a voice drove a knife metaphorically straight through their spines.
"Yes," Cell drawled out, a depraved smile armed on his face as all three occupants of the Palace reared around to see the Bio-Android standing with arms crossed over his chest arrogantly as he layered a smug question to them all. "How do you intend on stopping me without Gohan here?"
"How did he—?!" Mr. Popo gasped in horror. Unable to finish the sentence that trailed off into the air, the dark-skinned attendant could only gape.
"Cell!" shouted Dende, gripping the walking stick that had been left to him by the former God. "How can you already be here!?"
"You've been up here too long, God," replied the Bio-Android, "I believe you're forgetting that crossing a planet was a simple matter for me before my revival. Even Yamcha could do it with relative ease." Cell's eyes fell on the inexplicably youthful Bulma, widening in surprise. "Now what's this? You didn't tell me you were already entertaining guests. I didn't think I would have an audience for a moment like this!"
Cell's choice of words could not have been more ominous to the present party. He walked slowly towards them, quite certain at the lack of any possible intervention now, and was savouring the moment. Mr. Popo, Dende, and Bulma eyed Cell in the way prey watches a predator; he eyed them similarly, a kind of twisted hunger in his eyes, the longing to kill them shining through in a way nothing else could.
Boom! An explosion of ki clouded his vision. Cell had been so entirely focused on Dende, he'd completely missed an incoming shot to his face. It collided with the barrier of ki that protected him from beings far weaker than he. Clearing the cloud away with a scrape of his pale palm against the air, Cell's eyes fell, not on Dende or Mr. Popo, as he'd believed, but Bulma. The young woman was standing, her gloved palm outstretched, still smoking, glaring daggers at Cell. This act of defiance from a strange girl that looked so familiar stopped Cell dead in his tracks, and he actually began to laugh. His shoulders quivering with mirth, the Bio-Android tried to compose himself.
"I'm sorry, girl, but I'd nearly forgotten you were here," replied Cell, his breath catching. "You look familiar, but you can hardly be Trunks. I do have the most basic understanding of human gender. But I'll humour you — who are you?"
"Bulma," replied the young woman. She tried to make her voice sound confident, but it was cracking with fear. She hadn't intended to run into the likes of Cell when she arrived at the Palace; this was completely out of her depth, especially considering she'd only just finished the experiment. Gritting her teeth, and trying to stop her shaking legs, the girl steadied her grip on her arm; her entire body was trembling from fear.
"Bulma, is it?" Cell mused. "That name does sound familiar. You were in my timeline too. Trunks' mother, if I remember correctly." A smile played onto his face, clearly enjoying a pleasant memory. "I've had the pleasure of killing your son twice, Bulma. Losing family must be hard, though I suppose you're familiar with the feeling."
Her body began to tremble with something more than simple fear; indignation and anger filled flooded her at these words. Did Cell know she was still recovering from the loss of her husband? Or was he simply taking a stab at her emotions? Fighting back the cocktail of emotions coursing through her, Bulma tried to process everything at once. Cell didn't just come to the Palace on a afternoon stroll! If he's gone out of his way to come here, I'm willing to bet—
Her thought went unfinished; something red-hot whizzed by her face. An explosion rocked the Palace of God. Daring a look behind her, Bulma saw that Mr. Popo had leapt in front of the kikōha, shielding Dende from the blast. Cursing internally, Bulma groaned in despair. She was right. "He's going to kill Dende and destroy the Dragon Balls!"
"You've got quite a head on your shoulders," Cell walked past her, barely acknowledging her trembling form. "I will not leave any loose ends this time. Not. A. Single. One." He placed emphasis on each word, the irritation becoming more pronounced on every syllable. Approaching Mr. Popo, Cell raised his hand to chest-level, thrusting it forward. Bulma and Dende screamed in horror. Mr. Popo made a sound so strange it did not appear to come from him, and it soon became clear why. His body had flown up into the air, coming to rest above Cell's own head; the fulcrum was Cell's arm, which had pierced Mr. Popo's torso. Fresh blood gushed from his body, falling to the Palace tiles in a crimson waterfall.
Mr. Popo, usually so composed, was convulsing horribly. These seizures, however, gradually quieted down, until Mr. Popo fell entirely silent. With a violent shake of the arm, Cell forced Mr. Popo off of his arm, roughly casting him aside. "Your servant would have done well not to interfere," Cell said, his mouth curled into a horrible sneer. "He, at least, would have died painlessly."
Bulma was rooted to the spot. Her body, which had been shaking with fear before, was quite possibly rattling. She fell to the tiles, her knees having gone weak and given out entirely. She could barely form the words "Dende...run..." in nothing more than a hoarse whisper. Dende, fully capable of hearing it, could not do much to move either. The death of Mr. Popo given him a great shock. He felt, for the first time in years, much like the child who had witnessed Dodoria lay waste to his people and his family. Unable to so much as lift a finger to help; he wasn't a member of the Warrior Clan, he was a Dragon Clan Nameccian.
Before Cell could make another move on Dende, however, there was another minor explosion behind him. Cell turned, in a mixture of irritation and curiosity, to see Bulma, her face shining with sweat yet defiant, having raised another gloved hand towards him. She unleashed multiple more kikōha, the speed of them fairly slow compared to what he was used to, towards Cell in an effort to do something. "Dende! Don't...just...stand there...!" Her face screwed up in concentration, she kept barking orders. "He's trying...to kill you! Ru—" Her voice caught in her throat; Cell had walked through her barrage of ki, and gripped her by the neck. Lifting her into the air, he eyed her with disdain.
"You remind me so much of him...of your son, Trunks," he added, in explanation. "Neither one of you know when to quit...I should thank your future incarnation, having made the Time Machine that facilitated my rise to completion...yet right now, you're nothing more than a bother. If you want to die so quickly, I'll happily kill you before your little Nameccian God!" With his free hand, Cell levied it towards Bulma's torso.
It was here, that the Bio-Android's Nameccian hearing picked up something his own ki sense couldn't perceive. His outstretched arm that was poised to thrusting through Bulma's chest twisted around to catch what was sent hurdling his way, the whirling sound of a familiar humming reverberation in the air. However, his eyes widened palpably as his palm was torn asunder and the sight of a Kienzan was slicing through his hand, separating his pale digits from his knuckles.
"Kuririn!" He thought immediately, releasing Bulma and leaping backwards to avoid the razor sharp projectile that was hurtled in his direction. "I swore I didn't feel his ki when I came this way! That is, unless-!"
His rectangular shaped ears twitched, picking up another sound from behind that vaguely resembled someone soaring across the air at sound breaking velocity. Turning his uninjured arm around to catch an incoming fist, a petite shaped fist slammed viciously into his palm and released a gust of broken air pressure to lapse over his face. Scarlet eyes widened in recognition at the blonde haired woman, her eyes not shining its usual blue but now an opaque silver.
"Eighteen!" The emerald menace exclaimed, a smile stretched across his face as he easily held her at bay with his formidable strength. "What a pleasant surprise! Didn't know you used that useless short scrub's technique. Speaking of which, where is he?"
A glowering expression of rage etched over the youthful woman's face as she gestured her free hand's fingers around to cross her face.
Not realizing the meaning of the gesture, the Bio-Android blinked and then heard the familiar hum of the evaded razor of golden-white light. In turning his head, he'd feel her boots plant against his chest and a thrust of kikōha from her boots slammed him off balance directly in its path.
Unable to course correct, Cell back-flipped away in a flourishing spin in the air, watching the lethal blade zoom harmlessly beneath him. With his eyes fixated on the blonde cyborg's angered face, he smirked, his heels squeaking with an expertly timed landing.
A successive pain of heat sliding through his back out of his chest, however, brought him to choke on blood as it geysered from his throat out of his mouth in a look of dazed surprise.
"W-What?" Cell twitched violently, looking down to see a ghostly emerald glow wreathe itself around a black gloved hand and a dark fatigued jacket arm.
"You're way too easy to sneak up on," A familiar icy monotone spoke behind him, bringing the Bio-Android to erect himself in attention. Turning his neck around to look down at a head of raven hair, blue eyes glaring back up at him while his mask of neutral emotions dictated his thoroughly precise maneuver. "It's been seventeen years, Cell. What brings your pest-like corpse back to Earth?"
"Ah," Cell grinned past his pain, his eye angled with a pointed sneer at him. "So the brother's come with the sister for a reunion? How quaint."
With a right arm he grasped the front of 17's barrier wrapped palm, Cell held him still while twisting his upper body a pivoting motion to slam a carapace covered elbow to crash into his raven locked covered temple.
But, in doing so Cell's eyes watched him do the most perplexing thing. Despite having a firm grip, he felt the cyborg's captured limb slide straight through his hand. Moreover as his elbow moved to hit No. 17, he'd disjoint his body and visibly flow around like a reed in the wind, his black tresses whipping up from the force as he'd squeeze between the space of Cell's pendulum swinging arm. Turning around to coil the Bio-Android's body around till he was directly in front of the Cell himself, No. 17 reared his head back and coated it in a flash of viridescent light to slam it straight into the emerald terror's own forehead.
"HNGH?!" The Android flinched, the flesh across his crest splitting open, fracturing on impact and sending him staggering backwards. Throwing a pale palm forward, he'd unleash a broad kiai, sending the black haired cyborg flying off the palace while ripping a slew of tiles off their placement with him. Grinning, he'd clench his spread fingers into a claw, unleashing five piercing kikoha of red light straight towards the now sprawling airborne target.
In his haste, he'd see that No. 17 stoically whirl his upper body up and over in the posture of a bird with knees tucked up to his chest, flapping his arms down; completely whiffing the piercing beams of light in an instant. Catapulting across the air he'd zoom in zigzags, avoiding follow-up shots from Cell as he'd try to pin his target down, each time missing him by a hair. Zooming straight up towards his person, Cell forgone his precise attack and threw out both palms to encompass him in a reflexive Masendan.
One that No. 17 leaped out of from all fours, like a cat in a gesture that avoided his keen sense of hearing entirely.
"How in the-?!" Cell began to question, raising his arms to deflect clawed swipes by the gloved hands, once again his infernal barrier enhancing his attacks to a degree that were slashing through his armored wrists down to his elbows. Flipping backward as Cell lunged to punch him, 17's feet whipped out to slam against the emerald terror's chin, causing the Android to skid backwards by his heels as No. 17 landed on all fours with the agility of a cat.
Leaving himself directly beneath the glowing halo of a floating golden etched light that shined opaquely over his head. Yet again this was Kuririn's signature move, the Kakusandan, that once spread outward to annihilate a slew of Saibamen. Firing down a salvo of golden beams that thrust straight towards Bio-Android with the intent of eliminating his possibility of evasion.
"As if that'd hit me," He declared with a dark laugh, erecting his own massive dome of barrier that tore the palace floor and ravaged the perimeter with his disregard for the floating structure's integrity. In doing so he'd watch the light splash over it uselessly, fizzling outward; revealing whirring discs hidden within the head of each beam, tearing through his barrier like tissue paper barreling towards him.
"No-!"
The Bio-Android wouldn't be able to utter another word as over a dozen destructive blades slashed through his already wounded body in a variety of angles. Up and around, they'd be guided to slice and dice the synthetically engineered organic bits. Zigzag, crisscross and whirling around in incandescent streaks of golden-white light, he'd be reduced into meaty chunks till all that was left was a smear of bloodied bits lying on the Palace floor.
Dispelled with a flick of her wrists, No. 18 visibly grimaced at her handiwork while No. 17 stood upright with his hands pocketed into his ranger pants.
"Incredible," Bulma marveled aloud, her eyes barely registering everything within sight of the fantastic showcase of the twins' teamwork and individual fighting abilities. Despite having not fought together in nearly two decades, nor having any real slew of battle experience like those of those she's come to know, the pair had an uncanny ability to overcome those limitations without any trouble. "They actually damaged Cell to this extent. It's impressive...and yet, I can't help but feel this is just the beginning of their battle."
True to her words, the bits within the pool of blood began to sprout outward in a grotesque squelch of meat and carapace overlapping with one another. Spiraling upward with a fluctuating gestation, core of emerald tinted skin stretched outward, undulating four limbs back into their proper place with a fresh thorax that jutted out black wings and a head of pale tissue connecting the neck and yellow jawline with violet streaks beneath his eyes. Scarlet eyes opened as he bathed in his own excretions, the crests formed perfectly atop his cranium, leaving the being completely restored before the pair of stunned twins.
"You know, I hope you can appreciate the role reversal of irony in you stopping me," Cell began to say, a sneering stare mismatched with his confident grin armed over his face. "After all, considering your origins, I thought you'd be of like minds in laying waste to this pathetic planet's populace. Whatever happened to that love of wanton destruction and battle you two used to have?"
"What, because two assholes with our faces trashed another Earth's future, we have to follow their example?" No. 18 spat with venom, swinging her hand around with indignation. "You don't know a thing about us, Cell. Don't presume being dead for seventeen years changes that."
"You should know, Cell," No. 17 began to say, his blue eyes narrowing as he spoke with a calm eloquence he didn't possess all those years prior. "Eighteen and I have made it a life goal to do exactly the opposite of what that old bag of wrinkles and wires wanted us to do. Us suddenly changing our minds when you got atomized wouldn't just happen."
"Oh, well, fair enough," The Bio-Android shrugged with a smirking closing of his eyes. "I still find it funny."
"But we didn't simply come just to stop you out of principle."
"Oh?" The emerald terror inquired with his eyes lazily opening to look back at the twins.
"Yeah," The raven haired cyborg began to say, his eyes construing into a glare and his teeth gnashing visibly with his first real emotion since he's arrived. "We've come to avenge our friend, Sixteen; the one you murdered in cold blood!"
"Pfft, oh! Of course!" Cell snorted aloud, slapping his right palm against his face as he snickered aloud, much to No. 18's audible anger. Even as she was held back by No. 17's own gloved hand, the pair looked on as he suppressed his chuckles as he spoke back to them.
"I'm sorry, you two, but you have to understand. I've killed so many people," He began to say, dragging his face exaggeratedly off his face as a maniacal smile spread from one conical shaped ear to the other; his eyes narrowed with an angular glare as his voice dipped into a dangerous snarl. "I tend to forget the ones who didn't matter in the end!"
It was the straw that broke the camel's back for Android No. 18.
Flinging herself forward, she summoned a pair of Kienzan horizontally to each hand that hummed violently as she sheared her person through space towards him. Stopping just short of his body she crisscrossed her arms, slashing at his body-
-only to see a fading Afterimage flicker from her eyes.
Ducking just below at the last second, a knife-hand whiffed over her head where her neck would've presided. Turning around she'd fire kikoha point blank, the explosion buffeting off his body as a wafting golden mantle of ki shrieked into being around his person. Her eyes widened as she saw the sheer magnitude of his power in that instant.
Right before she felt her twin yank her by the scalp away from an instant pair of eye beams that nearly lanced through her chest at that second of hesitation.
"So, you can sense energy now," Cell intoned with a curious expression on his face, his body now emanating a jagged flame of sickly yellow off his gleaming carapace of green with spots of black over each segment of its insectoid design. Even as the siblings righted themselves with caution, he smirked, beginning to walk forward in telltale squeaks, his body rigidly upright but completely on guard for their machinations. "And you, No. 17, have developed quite an array of fighting stances. You fight less like a street fighter punk and more like a beast. It's quite fascinating, if not unorthodox."
Exchanging a couple of looks, the twins understood each other more than words could convey. They were outmatched here, but that didn't mean they had given up on fighting. They could dice him up once, they'd do so again; this time with interest.
Taking a few steps forward to meet him head-on, the Bio-Android saw the black haired ranger embroil himself in a tightly woven barrier of incandescent viridescent light. Tighter still, it wove around his body till it became a glowing shell that acted as a secondary skin. Becoming an emerald silhouette of his every feature's detail, he'd be armored in a way not even the Perfect Being could have accounted.
Thus, when he moved with a forward arching leap towards Cell, the Bio-Android swing his arm and was met with a vicious crackle of condensed energy lapsing against his own. Lightning sprouted between the forearms, slashing apart the foundation of the palace and sending Bulma reeling back with a guarded looking Dende. The air swirled around chaotically, as the pair of beings locked horns and began to repeatedly return a vicious barrage of melee attacks that didn't pierce each other's guard but rather felt out each other's intentions.
No. 17, lacking his sister's ability to read ki, just had to go with pure instinct. His pupils contracted and began razor shaped, his body beginning to swerve in and around his adversary's arms. Maneuvering in and around the arms, he'd get past Cell's guard and lance a sword-like thrust of his glowing emerald arm only for a ballooning barrier to project straight from his neck and reflect him outwards. Once reflected, Cell dashed forward and slammed a fist towards his chest, only to find him coiling his arms and legs around it while throwing him down into the palace with all of his intended force.
It erupted the underside of the divine satellite structure, releasing a cataclysmic puncture of air that drilled into the earth far below.
Twisting in and around with the agility of a feline once more, No. 17 managed to twist the Bio-Android's arm around to get a succinct snap of his shoulder going out of socket. The wing proximate to this arm as he stretched his armored shell slashed at his face, cracking his face's armor and sending him reeling off his grip on the Bio-Android. Flinging himself back to his hands and feet, the cyborg dashed backwards, switching around to his avian stance that flew in and around counterattacks of drilling kikoha sent by Cell's free hand's fingers.
Forward flipping around till both legs snapped forward, Cell blocked them with his forearm, another electric explosion of connecting energy's shook the foundation of God's Palace with terrifying power. Swinging his carapace reinforced limb, the golden flamed being flung him back, and this time dashed quicker than he could realign. Corkscrewing around like a drill, he'd slam his crests into No. 17's upraised hands, the grinding opposition bringing out sparks of an offensive force that carved through his energy like a precise blade.
Then, it cut through his gloves and lacerated his cheeks, down his neck and across his chest. Despite the grievous injuries, No. 17 grinned and he finally caught a hold of Cell's head. Spiraling himself around in a whipping motion, he used the momentum of his opponent and thrust his knees around to slam into his side, throwing him clean off the divine structure. Catapulted with a visible grimace, No. 17 watched him thrown exactly in the place he wanted.
An instant that Cell slowed himself in an instant and gaped around at a complete net of glowing orbs of light surrounding him. They numbered in the dozens. While he had never bore witness to Piccolo's Makūhōidan, it was something No. 18 and No. 17 had seen personally; one having been on the receiving end of it. Transmuted for the purpose of annihilating him for good, all the balls of light turned into humming discs of razor sharpness, lunging straight into searing streaks towards him.
The distantly guiding pair of the blonde cyborg's hands clenched, aiming for them all to swathe over him and completely eradicate his person.
That is, until an opaque golden hue overlapped the sky and broadly swept over the world in an eclipse of searing light. Flinching her eyes shut, she raised her hands to defend against it while letting the Kienzan barrage to move on target. Blinking them open, she'd look on to see as the light vanished from Cell and all of the razors had drifted into a wind of sparks, swirling around a twister of force that now coasted around Cell's person. Scarlet eyes glared from the distance, a sickening pop heard as he reset his shoulder back into place.
Then, instantly, she'd feel her insides rocket backwards and forward. Puking aloud, her eyes rolled back as she lurched bodily with the single gut punch that landed into her abdomen, throwing her back like a doll straight back at the palace's surface.
Caught at the last moment by No. 17, he braced his back with a barrier with a crackle of emerald light. Taking his eyes off Cell, he'd look back up and see a golden boot crack against his jaw, throwing him and his inert sister straight up into the air. Reappearing in the air, the raven haired cyborg would barely cross his arms in front of his face with a coat of barrier before the sledgehammer of force slammed him deep into the palace's center. The shockwave caused him to bounce, his sister sprawled beside him within its deep crater as he coughed out ichor.
Pushing himself into an upright seated posture, he'd glare up angrily as Cell landed at the rim of the impact site, his eyes poised at the pair with an outstretched hand aiming a glowing ball of yellow light in readiness to kill them.
"For what it's worth, Seventeen," He regarded with a derisive smirk. "You and Eighteen have done the most damage to me since I've gotten back on this useless ball of dirt and water. Not that it says much that I can regenerate from scratch endlessly without even wasting a percentage of my new power, but, it's the thought that counts, right?"
Preparing to finish off the twin androids, Cell found himself interrupted for the umpteenth time, a pink meteor crashing into the Palace of God. The entire platform shook with the force of the arrival, the Bio-Android actually lowered his hand in hesitation. This ki signature resembled one that he'd felt earlier this very same day...and yet stronger. Eyeing the arrival with narrowed orbs, Cell saw that it was pink, tall, muscular man, draped in a vest and cape, with baggy white pants, wearing an expression of absolute fury.
"It's Bū!" gasped Bulma, stunned.
"I'm nearly getting used to being interrupted, yet I have to admit being deprived of this kill is slightly frustrating," said Cell casually. "But I'll play along; who are you?"
"You the one who beat up Bū's family?" The physical change the Djinn had undergone since he'd woken up was stupefying. Rather than his plump build of before, he quite resembled his evil incarnation that had fought when Gohan nearly a decade ago; the only exception was his face, still bearing the strange facial features Bū was known for, contorted into righteous fury. "You the one who try to destroy the world were Mr. Satan live?!"
"Your family?" inquired Cell. "Mr. Satan?" That name was familiar, but not so much that Cell could recall it with perfect clarity. "Look here, friend; if you're one of the many people who've become tragic stories in my wake, then you're going to have to get in line. Besides, I was attending to some urgent business before you arrived; stand aside so I can finish these two off."
"Bū hate you," growled Majin Bū, his voice quivering with rage, so often a warning sign to lesser beings.
"Bū!" Bulma shouted, surprising both the Djinn — who had been entirely focused on Cell — and Cell himself — who had completely forgotten Bulma was there, yet again. "The Androids behind you! They were fighting the bad man that hurt your family! Can you save them!?"
The Djinn's eyes, narrowed in fury, softened slightly at the sight of Bulma. "You Satan's friend?" He asked, to which Bulma nodded in reply. Kneeling down to look at the defeated twins, Majin Bū frowned. "Healing them take too long...they not normal." In a sudden instant, his entire body lost physical form, shifting into a mass of pink slime. The rush of rose-tinged muck engulfed the twins entirely, writhing and wriggling over them. Constricting, the slime began to tighten, shifting from an amorphous blob into a shape that resembled something humanoid. Electricity crackled around the goo, shifting from an all-pink form to something where clothes began to be displayed. Formerly wearing a vest, Majin Bū's upper clothing had been replaced by No. 17's MIR shirt, complete with the orange armband, while his pants and boots had not changed in the slightest. His antennae, formerly reaching only to his scalp, had lengthened, stretching all the way down past his back.
The strongest changes, however, were in Majin Bū's face; his eyes, formerly small and slitted, were now the narrow, shining eyes that both twins possessed. He had grown a nose, identical to the twins, and his facial structure shifted to replicate Nos. 17 and 18's more delicate features, a contrast to his rounder and more innocent face. His hands, wrapped in the black gloves worn by No. 17, now possessed individual fingers, which Majin Bū clenched with interest.
"I...that wasn't..." Bulma stammered.
"You absorbed them." Cell observed with a note of interest. "You're of the same species as that overconfident rubber brat and her infernal mother."
"You don't need to worry, Bulma," said Majin Bū, his voice now smooth, and his speech eloquent. "I'm not going to harm them. I have the ability to absorb people, and store them away within my body. Nos. 17 and 18 will be kept safe within me—" He gestured to his skull "—and I'll let them out when we're done here. They aren't organic; far too many changes were made to their body to be properly receptive to my magic. We can heal them once we've gotten rid of this bastard." Majin Bū's face, shockingly identical to the twins now, glowered at Cell.
"I told you when I arrived, Cell. I hate you. And I'm going to rip you apart!"
A/N:
Demod20: And once again, I'm gifted with the ability to lend my talent into writing more Cell beatdown! Though 17 and 18 certainly put in Grade A for effort, Cell's terrifying uncanny ability to adapt quicker than the last fight he's had shows he's not here to play around. 18 and 17 did far more damage than he ever had conceived possible, only aided by the fact he can't sense their current strength nor defend himself accurately. Still, all good things must come to an end, and Cell was definitely not in the mood to have things drag out; thankfully, Buu was here to save the day...or will he?!
LastationLover5000: Whoo boy. Y'all are used to my apologies by now, but I am sorry for taking two months to get out a new chapter, everyone. November is always Pokémon time for me, and October was...it was a very stressful month, my family is still going through some mess. Happened shortly after I uploaded the Vegetto one-shot, actually. Regardless, I can't deprive you all of a chapter forever, but I haven't been in a writing mood, so once again, Demod20 was able to help me get the fighting scenes in this story done today. I can't thank him enough, or I wouldn't have gotten this chapter out until the next decade, I've been so off. Regardless, to address the name really quick: I showcased No. 17's wife here, and her name, Rurīro is the Japanese word for the lapis lazuli hue of blue, matching her husband and sister-in-law. I'm sure you're all curious about Bulma. Why is she younger? Why can she suddenly use ki? All will be explained in due time!
Name: Bulma
Age: 51
Blood-type: B
Birthdate: Age 733
Height: 160 cm (5'2")
Weight: 45 kg (99 lbs)
Favourite Food: Strawberries
Marital Status: Widowed
Master: None
Martial Arts School: None
Likes: Tinkering with mechanics, creating new inventions, men with short hair.
Dislikes: Perverted men, her age, spicy food, being left alone, pigheadedness, recklessness.
Basic Trivia:
Bulma is the oldest friend of Gokū.
The widowed wife of Vegeta, Bulma has not completely adjusted to the loss of her husband over the past decade.
Holds the title of the smartest person alive, challenged only by her own father in terms of intellect.
Is currently physically younger than her actual age would imply. How did Bulma manage that, I wonder...?
Bulma has no placing, strength-wise, among the cast, and does not wish to fight anyone, though she has several things she would like to say to her late husband.
With that, I think this wraps up the author's note for now. I appreciate Demod's assistance, and I will try to get a chapter up before the New Year! I'll see you all soon, in the next exciting chapter of the Erased Chronicles!