"I'm sorry to say, but if you hate me, you're going to have to get in line," Cell had recovered from the sight of someone absorbing the two Androids he himself had been designed and programmed to absorb rather quickly, resuming his usual air with ease. "More people than you have a grudge against me, my pink friend, and right now, I have an appointment with this planet's Go—" As if it was on cue with what he was saying, Cell turned on the spot, seeing Bulma helping Dende lift the limp body of Mr. Popo over their shoulders. To the amazement of everyone, he wasn't dead, though his wound was critical.
"Come on, Dende, we need to hide...!" hissed Bulma. "You have a place, right?"
"I-I do," the Nameccian deity stammered, trying to hold the body of his assistant, which was growing ever colder, steady. "If we can make it into the sanctum, we'll be safe."
"You think so, do you?" snarled Cell, lunging towards the three of them. "I won't let you esca—" The final vowel sound trailed off before rising into a pitched scream, matching the timing of his body being pulled backwards by an outstretched tentacle. Cell's body arched away from Dende and Bulma, being slammed into the tiled floor of the Palace of God, splitting a portion of it off from the main platform. "Damn you!" Cell angrily shot at Majin Bū.
"They're not your opponents, Cell," said Bū, retracting the head-tentacle from the Bio-Android's leg. "And I'm not letting your focus drift from me. You two! Go already!"
"T-Thanks, Bū!" called Bulma, slightly surprised. With her free hand, she generated a small sphere of ki, thrusting it down onto the ground. The sphere exploded in a burst of light and smoke, obscuring Bulma, Dende, and Mr. Popo from view. Cell was not one to be daunted, releasing a kikōha from his palm towards where the groups fleeting backs should be. The blast, however, never reached its target; an extended hand rocketed outward, catching the attack within its palm, pooling all of its energy into a sphere...
...and flinging it back towards Cell like a slingshot. The Bio-Android's eyes widened, his own attack exploding on impact with his body. Ripping through the resultant obscuring haze, Cell swirled around, glaring daggers at Majin Bū. "Alright...I see then. I'm going to have to kill you if I want to destroy the Dragon Balls."
"If you think you can," replied Majin Bū. He clenched his gloved fists, leaping lightly from side to side. "You can feel it, can't you? Their ki has already vanished. You can't find them any better than I can, Cell. It's just us, now."
Cell inhaled deeply, mentally fortifying himself for the coming battle. This was a minor setback, nothing more. That's all it was. Tightening his hands into balled fists, Cell felt ki course through his body. Brimming with power, Cell bent at the knees and rocketed forward. Closing in on the Djinn, he burst in a spiraling motion, finishing the manoeuvre by gripping both hands and slamming them down into Majin Bū's skull. The blow struck true, and with the sound of a mighty CRACK!, the portion of the Palace of God's platform which Bū and Cell stood splintered still further, cracking away entirely; Bū was forced beneath the crumbling wreckage, Cell having taken him by surprise.
White fist clenched, Cell pursued in a blur of motion. Grinning with the thrill of the advantage, the Bio-Android swung forward a hand, releasing a powerful Kiai; the invisible bundle of ki impacted the Djinn's body, forcing him downward through sheer pressure. Majin Bū braced himself, arms thrown in front of his face to block the brunt of Cell's offensive. The column of ki battered its way down and past him, disrupting a portion of the Palace of God's wreckage, but leaving Bū none the worse for wear. Grinning, the Djinn flickered forward; his wrist battered itself into Cell's face; Bū followed up a point-blank blast of pink ki. The kikōha exploded violently, obscuring Cell's vision. Taken aback, Cell was unable to see the incoming strike to his throat from Majin Bū's outstretched leg.
The sensation of being punted through the air by an opponent he hardly recognised nor wanted to fight was becoming all too familiar to Cell at this point. The Bio-Android rolled through the air, righting himself with ease. He was fighting with three very powerful parts of himself; the Saiyan cells within his body were thrilled. This Majin Bū felt like an opponent he could really enjoy fighting. And considering the only one who had come close to damaging him proper was that bespectacled woman, that was something to the Djinn's credit. However, the Freeza cells were furious at the continuous interruptions and setbacks. He knew he could simply turn around and blast the Palace of God out of the sky — the cold deductive reasoning of Piccolo — however, if he tried, Majin Bū would certainly deflect it. The God of Earth must die for his plan to be fully realised, and yet he could have to get through Majin Bū to do it.
"You're taking your eyes off me," a voice sounded from behind him. Cell barely pivoted in time to block the incoming blow; Bū's fist crashing against his palm shook the air like thunder. Not to be outdone, Cell shot his knee upwards into the Djinn's torso; it collided hard, winding Bū with enough force to knock spittle loose. Cell slackened his grip on Majin Bū's fist, striking instead with a blow towards the jaw. Bū's eyes flashed, his dented torso regenerated, and Cell saw as Bū weaved past the incoming strike, landing another powerful blow on the Bio-Android. Recovering within moments, Cell struck forward; his fist clashed with the gloved fist of Majin Bū. Bio-electricity crackled between both their arms, each trying to force the other to give.
"Colour me impressed!" jeered Cell. "Despite looking like such a simpleton, you're actually not half-bad!"
"You're nothing to laugh at either," replied Bū genuinely, though irritation showed on his face. "I can see how you were able to overcome my wife and daughter. But you'll see that I'm going to make things a lot harder for you!" A glint in Bū's eyes reappeared. The rose-tinged man let up on his pressure slightly, slipping past Cell's punch — the resulting shockwave of which rocketed past Majin Bū, ripping off the roof of the Palace of God with a torrential gust of wind — spinning like a top, his heel digging into Cell's ribs. Though pushed back from the blow, Cell recovered quickly, rushing towards Bū again. Auras erupted from their bodies — one yellow and one pink — the two clashed against the other, then splitting apart, rinsing and repeating similar action.
To someone who could take in the events from afar, it would seem more like a choreographed light show than true battle. At the instance of separation, Cell saw Majin Bū grinning, and felt compelled to speak. "Do your kind always smile when they're going to die, or is that unique to you?"
"I'm not what you'd call 'normal', so I don't know," replied the Djinn seriously. "Even though I'm going to kill you, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying this fight. Not since that man with the ludicrous hair all those years ago have I met anyone equal to me. And I've never had this much power in the eons of my own life!" As if to back up his words, Majin Bū flexed slightly; pink ki erupted around his body, a vivid flame wreathing his body. "Now to make good on my promise to destroy you utterly; if I don't, my little girl is going to have some words for me." The pink eldritch creature placed the fingers on each gloved hand together, overlapping his index finger of one hand with the pinkie of the other hand, and overlapping the thumbs.
Cell recognised the stance immediately. "No you don—"
"KIKŌHŌ!" Majin Bū's attack, angled into the horizon rather than directly towards the planet he now called home, exploded with a deafening bang. It wasn't a simple beam; with his combat strength as high as it was, after absorbing both of the twin Androids, the Tsuru-Sen Style technique blanketed the sky in a swathe of golden light. The blue hue of the sky, the white of the clouds, and the light of the sun were obscured for miles at a time; Earthlings who followed certain religious teachings would almost certainly believe this was an event foretold in one of their sacred texts. Cell was swallowed entirely by the gigantic blast of ki, vanishing from sight. Majin Bū was not one for a single strike, however; multiple explosions of the Kikōhō rang throughout the sky, consecutive blasts following its predecessor. Only when the Djinn was thoroughly satisfied — after ten consecutive shots, far more than Tenshinhan could have managed at the time the Majin copied the technique — he lowered his hands. The Kikōhō was an exhaustive manoeuvre, even for the likes of a Majin Bū who had absorbed the Nos. 17 and 18; he found himself trying to steady his own breathing.
"I never thought I'd see that technique from someone other than Tenshinhan," Cell's voice rang out from the thinning smokescreen. From within the obscuring fumes, the slight glow of purple was visible, revealed within time to be a sphere of ki encircling the Bio-Android. "I didn't think I'd have to bring out my barrier before my re-encounter with Son Gohan. You're proving to be far more than a simple roadblock," Gritting his teeth, the Bio-Android released his barrier, revealing a immaculate form. Not a single Kikōhō had truly made contact with his body. "Fine then. I'll take you seriously. Let me show you a fraction of my true power!"
The Palace of God, the Room of Spirit and Time
When they rushed themselves away from the chaos that was Cell and Majin Bū, Dende had known there was a single place to which they could flee. One place in the entirety of the Palace of God where Cell would not be able to sense their ki. As quickly as he and Bulma could carry themselves, with Mr. Popo in between them, they traversed the winding hallway, through one of the quicker routes that Dende knew, which lead them to a magnificent oaken door. Turning the handle, the door opened, and he quickly ushered them both in, throwing the duo into a vast expanse of white, and close the door behind them.
Bulma's first reaction was one of stunned disbelief, and she nearly lost her grip on Mr. Popo. Hurriedly rectifying her mistake, she squinted her eyes to see farther — a feat made far more easier due to the adjustments that had benefited every facet of her body — and found this act to be incredibly dizzying. "It...it just goes on and on..." She stammered, tearing her eyes away from what appeared to be a never-ending horizon to glance at Dende. "And it's so hot in here...I can barely breathe...Dende, where are we...?"
The God of Earth shook his head. "I'll explain everything in a moment, but we need to tend to Mr. Popo first."
It was when she tried to move did Bulma feel the pressure. She could tell instantly; it was the gravity. Whatever Earth's gravity was, it was nothing like this. Her mind pondered just how many fold the increase was, yet the woman found she could barely keep herself upright long enough to keep this coherent train of thought going. Forcibly pushing herself into an upright position, Bulma forced herself to plod forward. Slowly progressing, Dende and Bulma lead the body of Mr. Popo towards one of the bedrooms situated in the Palace of the Room of Spirit and Time, laying his body on the bed. The pristine white sheets were quickly dyed crimson, neither woman nor Nameccian paid this any mind. Dende immediately busied himself with Mr. Popo's wounds, placing his hands over the motionless body of his assistant. His hands began to glow, emitting a vivid light which immersed Mr. Popo's body. His expression stern, the God of Earth focused solely on his work, using the Restoration Power he acquired long ago from the late Grand Elder to begin patching up Mr. Popo's wounds.
Bulma let her body slump to the ground; the strain of movement in combination with the heat and humidity of the Room had caused her to perspire considerably. Wiping sweat from her brow, and trying to ignore the uncomfortable tightness of her clothing, Bulma stayed silent, initially unwilling to interrupt Dende's work. Able to bear it no longer, Bulma said in a quavering voice, "I'm surprised he's...still...well, y'know..." She gestured pointlessly at Mr. Popo's body, as if hoping the motion would convey what words were failing to.
"I am too," replied Dende. "I've been the God of Earth for nearly twenty years now, and I don't know everything about Mr. Popo. When I asked, once, Mr. Popo merely told me that he has served as the caretaker of the Palace and assistant to God since the first God of Earth, Shanghdi, was alive."
"Shanghdi?" Bulma blinked in confusion.
"The God of Earth is a position, held by a successor in the event of the passing or retirement of the original God," explained Dende. "The first God of Earth, who created the Earthlings and breathed life into this planet, was a man named Shanghdi. There have been many Gods since the time of Shangdhi, but he was the first, and reputed to have been the most powerful deity to have guarded the planet."
The lavender-tressed woman nodded. "So, Mr. Popo has been around for quite a long time." Placing a gloved finger to her chin, she mused. "It makes you wonder if he's connected to something; either to the Palace, or perhaps the current God?"
Dende nodded. "I've thought about that as well, but I'm just not sure. Regardless, whatever he is, healing him is going to take time. He isn't...my ability isn't responding to him the way it responds to everyone else..."
"That explains — who am I kidding, I'm nowhere closer to understanding what he is now than I was earlier — but at least it's something," said Bulma. "But where are we? I've never seen a place like this." She'd noticed that her breathing was, at the very least, adapting to the atmosphere of the dimension, even if she could still barely move her body under the pressure of its gravity. "I don't think I've ever conceived of a place remotely like this one."
"It's the Room of Spirit and Time," replied Dende simply. "An alternate dimension where the flow of time differs from our's. On the outside, a minute is equivalent to six hours, an hour to fifteen days, and one day equates to a year. This is the Room that—"
"—Vegeta, Trunks, Gokū and Gohan used back during the time they trained to fight against Cell," Bulma remembered suddenly. No wonder, I've never been in here, so of course I would't know a darn thing about it. She tried to remember what her son from the future had said back then.
"There's an odd room here where you can spend an entire year in the span of one outside day. Dad and I went inside to train."
That was it. Back then, she'd merely been interested in why his hair had grown — and why Vegeta's hadn't. The idea of a room where the flow of time differed should have certainly been a more pressing matter than her son's fashionable new hairdo, but she was past the point of regretting a lack of past curiosities. Feeling her weighted body again, she was left to keep her assumption that the gravity itself was also different in this dimension; Vegeta, Trunks, Gokū and Gohan probably hadn't felt a thing. But this was new to her; she'd grown up used to Earth's gravity. The slightest fluctuation with her untrained body and she could have wound up far worse for wear than simply buckling at the knees.
"That's correct," Dende finished, sensing that Bulma's reverie had concluded. "But...what about you?" He didn't take his focus off of healing Mr. Popo, whose wound had begun to patch itself up. The young Nameccian wasn't used to such slow progress with his healing abilities; either the person was healed within moments, or they were simply dead. What was Mr. Popo? "You've done something to yourself, haven't you, Bulma?" Dende wasn't trying to sound accusatory, knowing that whatever Bulma had done to herself, it wasn't completely natural. "When you arrived at the Palace, wracked apart, and I healed you, I could feel it. You're not completely an Earthling anymore, are you?"
Bulma allowed Dende to finish without interruptions; the silence that followed his statement was one she let propagate for longer than was necessary. She hadn't told anyone besides Trunks and her father of what she'd done to herself, but she supposed the time for that secret was past. "I..." Bulma hesitated. "I was testing a new invention, one that can be used to induce changes in the physiology of the consumer." Dende flashed the woman a blank look, and Bulma sighed. "The drug in question allows one to make changes to their biology. You told me that you sensed I was no longer completely an Earthling, and that certainly proves to me that it worked."
"You're still not making anything clear—"
"I analysed, isolated, and synthesized Saiyan DNA," replied Bulma quickly. "It's not something that just everyone can do, and the process took several years. I had considered looking into Saiyan genetics for some time, originally with the intention to further increase longevity in Earthlings, since Vegeta barely seemed to age," she stressed the last bit with a note of barely induced bitterness. "So I acquired some of his DNA a few years ago—" Dende looked horrified, and Bulma sheepishly added, "It's fine! It's not like Dr. Gero, and it wasn't anything painful! I just borrowed...samples...and studied what I could! By the time it came to test the product, I needed...well, I needed a subject, didn't I?
I'm surprised it worked, all things considered," noted Bulma, a distinct note of pride in her voice now. "Reproducing samples of genetic code and splicing it into a living creature, forcing changes into their physiology...honestly, Dr. Gero might have killed for something like that." With a mischievous grin, she continued, "I just figured...with Gohan having spilled the beans to the whole world about ki, and martial arts schools becoming the best thing since the Silverstar 4, people might be interested in something to boost their combat ability. Gohan isn't immortal. He won't be around forever, and neither with Goten or Trunks. People need to be able to protect themselves."
The God of Earth frowned. "...I can't really condone the manipulation of life, even if I can't do anything about it. But I can tell you were just trying to do something to help as well, Bulma...if this medicine if yours can benefit the Earth in the long run, then I won't see a reason not to turn a blind eye."
Relief washed over Bulma, and she smiled widely. "Thanks, Dende."
The Palace of God, the Ruins of the Palace
"Your true power?" inquired the Djinn, still steadying his breath. "I won't give you a chance to even try!" Energy snaked from his wrists to encompass his palm, creating an extended blade. While pink in colour, the blade was otherwise identical to the application of the barrier that No. 17 had used against Cell just minutes prior; clearly, Majin Bū was pulling from the knowledge of his absorbed comrades. Firmly solid, glistening like kunzite, the Djinn raised the barrier-encompassed hand...
...and devoured the distance between himself and Cell, spinning violently like a corkscrew. Eyes narrowed, teeth gritted, Cell swerved his upper body to the right, allowing Majin Bū to simply shoot past him. The Bio-Android's bright pink eyes shimmered, keeping them tracking the Djinn, who rebounded with surprising ease. "Won't give me a chance, eh? You're mistaken if you think I need someone else's allowance!" Fists balled, muscles flexed, and Cell's body gave way to a flood of ki. It wasn't a transformation, at least not in that sense. Merely releasing his hold on certain limiters, certain restraints to keep his power back, allowed a fraction of Cell's true strength to surge forth. His burning aura erupted around him, crackling at intervals with bio-electricity.
The Djinn and Bio-Android clashed above the ever crumbling Palace of God; their shockwaves sent more pieces askew, cracking into the ruined tiled flooring of what used to be a circular platform. Scattered around them, yet somehow still floating, were pieces of marble, wood, in addition to the trees and shrubs which had dotted the platform. The true body of the Palace, the building into which Dende and Bulma had taken Mr. Popo for their own safety, remained standing. Within this den of rubble, the two battled. Cell's white hand clenched around Majin Bū's gloved hand, just avoiding the extended blade. To his surprise, Majin Bū's limb began to coil around his body, tightening like a snake.
"There are more ways than simply brute force to incapacitate someone, Cell," said Majin Bū. "I'll absorb you too, Cell! That should wrap this all up nicely!"
Discomfort was certainly a word for the situation; Bū's entire form had encircled its way around Cell's body, smothering him in a swathe of pink liquid. His pale hands attempted to fight the goo off, swiping it away and revealing partial traces of light, however, the Djinn encased him again. Irritation filled his core. A feint. He'd fallen for a feint. Something this trivial, this insignificant, should not be slowing him down. "GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Wrenched from his throat, a shout of effort dinned through the silence; from every pore in his body, an invisible bundle of ki erupted, a full body kiai which ripped the slim covering him apart. Bū found his body shredded, and Cell found himself free from his grip.
Reforming, the Djinn looked notably distressed; Cell, however, was angered. "I'll have you know something, creature. I am not prey. I am the predator!" Swiftly, his tail, which had seemingly become defunct and receded into a nub between his wings, extended, viper-like. The pointed end attempted to strike Majin Bū, who manipulated his form, allowing the tail to pass through a gaping hole he created in his torso, rather than strike him. Cell's tail retracted and extended numerous times, yet time Majin Bū avoided the blow creatively; melting, reconstituting, stretching away entirely.
"You aren't so blind to think that I don't know what that tail can do, are you?" inquired Bū. "Though I'm more than surprised that your Developed Form can use it; I'd thought you'd lost the ability once you no longer needed to absorb the Androids."
"There are always contingencies," replied Cell, his tail slinking back to its original position.
Absorption on either side was out of the question, that much had become clear. Cell was more than strong enough to repel Majin Bū, and the rose-tinged creature knew the inns and outs of Cell's absorption, due to the knowledge afforded to him by the absorbed twins. One of them would have to come out of this a victor, but neither would be feasting today. Bū raised a mitted hand, recreating the same gem-like blade from earlier. Thrusting his arm forward, a flash of pink glinted through the sky. He had fired the blade towards Cell as a projectile, though the blur of a white hand reduced it to nothing but splinters. Cell raised a hand towards Majin Bū, and as if imagining his hand closing around the pink creature's throat like a vice, began to telekinetically strangle him, crushing his windpipe under invisible force.
Struggling and gasping for breath, Majin Bū fought against the psychic hold Cell had over him, finding it frighteningly powerful. Focusing his mind against the sensation of impending suffocation, Majin Bū stared directly at Cell, and his narrow eyes widened in a blinding flash. Cell was impacted by what felt like the force of one of the creature's own punches, invisible to his eye and impossible to block — a kiai of tremendous power. His grip on Bū slackened, the Bio-Android unable to retain the mental concentration needed to choke the life from him.
The diversion was enough to block Cell's vision from seeing the Djinn's next manoeuvre. Between the palms of his hands, he began to form a swirling vortex of ki. A thin line of light formed around the middle of the raging storm, encasing it in a glinting, rose-hued barrier. Pressing his hands together, he began to compress the sphere from the size of large watermelon to the size of an orange. With a final twist, the seal on the tempest firmly placed.
Witnessing the sphere too late, Cell was forced to watch as Majin Bū lobbed the sphere towards him directly. Placing both hands in front of his body, Cell caught the sphere in one hand...and was astounded by the sheer weight of the power in it. Clasping the spheroid with both hands, Cell found himself struggling to lift it. In the distance, Majin Bū hoisted his hand high, clenching his palm. In a blinding flash of light — in which a burning flash of gold was visible briefly — Cell was engulfed an attack comparable to a nuclear explosion. Bū braced himself for the incoming shockwave; his body rippling, its jelly-like constitution nearly giving in to the pressure. He erected a pink barrier around both sides of his body, defending the Palace of God's main building from the brunt of the force; around them, much of the debris and floating portions were erased instantly. This display, however, didn't matter to Bū; he could sense Cell's strange ki, which had spiked and then plummeted back to normal. The Djinn realised quickly through the burning smokescreen that Cell had survived.
Bū generated a single Kienzan horizontally above his palm, their humming tone sending a clear threat into the battle. Slashing through the air, the Kienzan sheared across the sky, piercing the obscuring concealment. Through swift, slashing motions, Majin Bū manipulated the disc to split into six separate discuses, each of them swinging through the smokescreen. Sensing Cell's ki, Majin Bū pulled the strings of each disc to target the Bio-Android and cut him to pieces. With each pass of the blades, more of the smokescreen was wiped away, until it revealed Cell.
Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound of blood leaking from Cell's body was very audible. Majin Bū's technique had struck home; his technique dismembered Cell nearly entirely, slicing off every single one of his limbs. Miraculously, Cell's torso and head had remained intact; he must have avoided the bulk of the slashing strikes.
"It looks like not even you can avoid that many Kienzan," Majin Bū grinned. "I'm not sure how Kuririn created a technique like that, but it really is brilliant. Now...to finish you off!" With both hands, Bū brought all six blades down in a rain of death. Seething in pain, Cell swerved through the single available gap, dodging through the mixture of discs, the blades barely grazing his carapace. Concentrating firmly on his missing limbs, each one of them restored themselves with a sickening squelch!, oozing a strange, clear liquid.
"Did you think you were the only one who could regenerate?" inquired the Bio-Android. "My cells possess the ability to regenerate; cut off my limbs, slice off my head, and I will come back. You're taking me far too lightly."
"...That slipped my mind," replied Majin Bū dryly. A memory — not his own — of Cell in a different form, regenerating a tail torn off by the now lost Android 16 swam to the fore of his mind. Cell could regenerate. He hadn't pooled enough knowledge from the minds of the Androids resting within his body. "That's fine. I'll circumvent your regeneration one way or another!"
"Then do your best!" snarled Cell. With the wave of a hand, he applied telekinesis on Majin Bū again. Against his will, his body was pulled towards Cell, who erased the Djinn's entire lower body with the thrust of his free hand. The blow struck home, impacting the Djinn's jaw, staggering him. Snapping the toe of his pointed foot into Bū's chin, the Djinn felt it truly connect. Cell's hands clasped around Majin Bū's neck; immersed in ki, Cell dashed forward, dragging Bū's body along, and tightened his grip, shooting the torn body of Majin Bū in the direction of the collapsing Palace.
Majin Bū's hurtling form cleaved through the Palace itself, slicing the roof of the building in half. He forced his body to come to a stop, regenerating his lower half, complete with the gi pants and dark boots. He inhaled deeply, feeling his own anger begin to rise; the composure inherited from absorbing Nos. 17 and 18 beginning to fade away, giving way to the anger that defined Majin Bū. Steam issued from his pores, ki began to pulsate around his body, vibrant and furiously pink. Darting forward, Majin Bū practically seemed to disappear and reappear, the distance between himself and Cell vanishing instantly. His left arm was held at shoulder-level, and had inflated massively, ballooning to great size. Moulded and shaped like a cannon, his fist retracted inward into his own arm. Slamming the limb into a wide-eyed Cell, the blow propelled forward like a spring.
BOOM!
Pressure. Pain. Cell's body gave way to the force of Bū's strike, his body jetting off in the opposite direction. Flying far, Cell saw the Palace of God becoming smaller and smaller in the distance. Even still, Majin Bū was not shrinking. The Djinn's form raced towards Cell, a pink comet against the blue sky. Bū's arm extended rapidly, a thin line of a pink jutting outwards across the sky. Somersaulting through air, Cell deftly avoided the stretching limb, which raced past him. Cell grinned at first, believing Majin Bū had missed his initial blow. Only when the blow rebounded — seemingly ricocheting off of the air itself — did Cell begin to pick up on his enemy's game.
Once. Twice. Three times. Each time the fist missed Cell, it rebounded against the air, picking up speed and seemingly stretching without end. Cell avoided the limb each time it rebounded, yet with every successive strike, the limb came closer and closer to hitting its mark, picking up speed and power every time it sprung back. The repetition kept up to the point that Majin Bū's arm was practically forming a moving cage around Cell, cutting off escape and evasive routes. It was going to hit.
It did.
Crashing, crushing, pounding into the Bio-Android's stomach, Majin Bū's plan was pulled off spectacularly. Cell felt his trunk nearly give way, his body being forced downwards towards the surface of his home planet. Roaring in rage, the Bio-Android tried to stop his descent; Majin Bū refused to give him an opening, capitalising on his inability to fight back against the force of his initial blow. Diving towards Cell, Bū cupped both hands at his sides, the Djinn's palms began to burn vigorously with pink-hued ki.
That's the—
"KAMEHAMEHA!" Bū bellowed, thrusting both arms at Cell's face. Pink light exploded around the both of them, easily eclipsing the Kikōhō Bū'd released earlier in size. Cell's screams of rage and pain were drowned out by the thum! of the technique, Bū's Majin Kamehameha stretched across the planet, tainting the sky rose with its light. Whether a show of control, concern, or both, the blast never touched the ground, skimming high above it, flickering and fading out before it could reach any settlements or harm the environment. This had to have done it, Majin Bū was sure of it; surviving his Super Majin Kamehameha at point blank range was a feat impossible when he was this strong.
"...I wasn't aware you knew that technique," a chilling voice came from behind Bū, alerting him to the presence of Cell before his ki sense could do the job. "But it's a good thing the Androids feeding you information missed one important detail." He placed two fingers to his forehead, sneering. "I, much like the late Son Gokū before me, can teleport. It's a handy little trick." Cell's hand sliced through Bū from the top down, cutting the Djinn in half with sheer physical strength — a faint glimmer being the only hint of ki increasing the lethality of the strike — sweeping his hand in a return motion, bringing a vast expanse of ki along with it. The sweeping blast eradicated Bū's physical form entirely, reducing him to ashes.
"That should—" Cell began, interrupted as the ashes of Bū began to reform instantly, taking on their humanoid shape of the Djinn. "—do nothing, clearly." The exasperation was apparent in his tone; this battle was taking up not only time, but energy. Dr. Gero's adjustments had made it so it exhausted him far less than a natural Nameccian when it came to regeneration, but even Cell experienced a depletion in his own reserve when he reformed limbs or healed wounds. This creature on the other hand, regenerated almost by means of magic. Cell could feel that there was no fluctuation in the flow of ki when Majin Bū reformed his body, regrew limbs, and patched up wounds. It was almost maddening.
Majin Bū clenched black-gloved hands, his face working in thorough annoyance. If either side shared one emotion for the other, it was resentment on various levels. Cell, for the Djinn interfering with his kill, slowing his plans for revenge, and overall being an obstacle in his path that should have been avoided. Majin Bū, for what Cell had done to his wife, his daughter, and due to the emotions borrowed from Nos. 17 and 18, hatred many times over; his treatment of their world, the belittlement of those they cared about, and the deaths of someone long gone.
"What'll you have us do then, you blasted creature?" inquired Cell. "Neither side is giving an inch, but let me tell you — you haven't seen a fraction of what I'm capable of." This wasn't a bluff. Majin Bū was not meant to be his final opponent, and he needed to save strength for Son Gohan; he had his own trump cards left to be played, and he would be damned before he laid everything on the table before this walking piece of bubblegum.
"I told you earlier, Cell," replied Majin Bū through gritted teeth. "Brute force isn't the only way to incapacitate someone." The tentacle stretching from his head twitched, rising over the Djinn in an arc. It flashed a vibrant pink; Majin Bū's ultimate trump card...
...and Cell was ready for it. Mentally gripping onto the blast with his own telekinetic focus, the Bio-Android reversed the Transfiguration Beam back towards Majin Bū. The distance between them was too short. Cell had been ready, while Majin Bū had not expected it, and for the second time in his life, the Djinn was impacted by his own signature move. Majin Bū's pupils dilated in surprise, his body immersed in his own magic, which transformed him into a bowl of crème brûlée. Not having a sweet tooth himself, Cell raised a hand towards the bowl, destroying it completely and utterly with a kikōha.
"It's a pity for you that I've already seen that technique," snarled Cell, a feeling of grim satisfaction filling his core. "But you were right. Brute force wasn't the only solution. And to that, friend, you have my gratitude." Gazing towards the sky, Cell focused his vision on the direction of the Palace of God. He couldn't feel it; the ki of the Nameccian or Bulma's ki, and his battle with Majin Bū had let the Palace itself in shambles. Cell let out a long exhale, and descended, his feet clacking against the scorched ground of the planet. Even now, he could feel his Nameccian cells hard at work, restoring his body, and his Saiyan cells learning from where he'd lacked in the battle with Majin Bū and compensating. Seating himself on the ground, he allowed his body to recuperate.
I will find them. Of that much, they can be sure. But for now...a moment to restore myself.
The Palace of God, the Ruins of the Palace
"I can feel life force coming back to his body" murmured Dende. Relief flooded the young deity's body; he was typically all alone high in the Palace. Without Mr. Popo, presiding over the Earth as its God would leave him crushingly alone. Removing his hands from over the body of the attendant, it was clear the hole caused by Cell had been healed entirely, and Mr. Popo was indeed beginning to show signs of life again.
"That's great news," replied Bulma, the woman slumping against the nearest wall. "Glad to hear it..." She smiled weakly. The stress of the situation, and the literal physical pressure of the room, had taken its toll on her. Bulma waved away Dende's look of concern, continuing to speak. "But what's our next plan of action? I don't know what's going on outside; Majin Bū can only keep Cell occupied for so long. If he just blows the planet to kingdom come, we'd walk outside to an empty void."
"We wouldn't walk outside at all," Dende said grimly. "The door connecting this dimension to Earth is the only normal exit. Majin Bū was able to rip a hole in space-time ten years ago, but normal rules don't seem to apply to people like him or Gohan. You and I, however? We would be stuck here."
"Then why did we run in here?!" shrieked Bulma, her hair raising slightly in both panic and fury. "You're trying to tell me that our only option was the possibility of getting stranded in an eternal void until we die?!"
"It was either that, or being killed immediately. Besides, I don't think he's going to blow up the planet yet."
"Which is real comforting to hear," Bulma rolled her eyes.
"It should be!" said Dende imploringly. "I know my only role as God is to keep the Dragon Balls functioning. If...if I die, Cell's victory is almost assured. And you! Bulma, you're a symbol of the planet. Because of you, Earth has changed so much in ten years; you've done more for these people than I've ever done as their God. Neither one of us can afford to die!"
Bulma didn't think this was quite a fair statement; Dende was their friend, and it was only because he'd reforged the Dragon Balls — and did it again when the Balls had suffered what they feared to be irreparable damage — that the group was able to recover as much as they could when Cell and Majin Bū had ravaged Earth before. She placed her hand on his shoulder, smiling kindly. For a moment, Dende looked like the young Nameccian child that Gohan had risked his life to save on Namek; the same child Kuririn and Gohan had brought with them while they were hiding on that alien planet, and she felt a rush of compassion for him. "We all do what we can, Dende. Without you, there wouldn't be an Earth to defend. Everything would have been wiped away a long time ago."
Dende blinked, taken aback. He hadn't considered that; to him, it was only the frustration of inheriting a position that had been handled by someone else far better in the past. He'd not only come into the former God's position, but his inability to properly do anything other than be a lifelink for the Dragon Balls had been passed on as well. When it felt like that was one's only purpose, it could hamper one's motivation. Bulma's words brought a fire back to Dende's heart, the young man standing tall. "What we need right now is Gohan...I'm going to try and get into contact with him, so I'll need you to stay here. This is going to be risky..."
In spite of Bulma's protests, Dende hurried to the door, opening it tentatively; the light that crept in proved their planet was still there. Stepping outside, and closing the door behind him, Dende inhaled deeply. His ki had shrunken, forced inward and kept at the bare minimum required for him to focus. Cell would not be able to sense someone with the average strength of a small animal, and this was to Dende's advantage.
His thoughts went out towards the Universe, reaching the one person he knew could help him contact Gohan. "Lord Kaiō! Can you hear me? Please! We need your assistance!"
Dende? Is that you?
The Northern Kaiō's voice responded to Dende as quickly as Dende had sent out the message, and the young Nameccian tried to suppress his excitement at such a quick response.
"Yes, it's me! Please, can you patch me through to Son Gohan? He's off training with Whis, and my own telepathy can't reach that far! Earth is in a dire situation, and we need Gohan to come back!"
S-Sure, right aw—wait, Cell's back!?
Dende understood the obvious surprise and even slight panic in the Northern Kaiō's voice, but he tried his best to hurry their conversation onward. "Yes, he's back! I don't know how, and even if I did, we're pressed for time! Please patch me through to Gohan!"
The least you could do is give me an explanation! But fine, hold on!
The Universe, Nebula of God, Beerus' Planet
Gohan! Gohan! Can you hear me, Gohan?!
Training had resumed in earnest on Beerus' planet. Gohan was locked in a sparring match with Goten; hearing a voice spring to life inside his head with no warning threw him off guard entirely, his younger brother connecting a blow into Gohan's nose, nearly breaking it. Staggering back, Gohan held a hand to his face, and then one to Goten, signalling for the young Saiyan to come to a halt. Rubbing his nose, Gohan placed a finger to his forehead, trying to focus.
"D-Dende? Is that you, buddy?" The question was rhetorical; he knew the voice of his Nameccian friend well. Merely the shock of hearing it inside his head hadn't completely worn off, and he was taking the time to register the face. "What's got you so worked up?"
Goten looked blankly at his elder brother. To the young man, it almost appeared as if Gohan was talking to himself, though Goten wasn't a fool. He figured it must've been telepathy; Dende was speaking directly into the older Saiyan-half's mind. This, however, hardly boded well.
I need you to relay this to everyone! We need you to return now! Cell has been revived, and he is laying waste to Earth.
Now it was Gohan's turn to blink in momentary confusion. The statement took even longer to register with him than Dende's initial moment of contact, and multiple emotions flooded his body when his thoughts finally collected themselves. Confusion. Surprise. Acknowledgement. Concern. But most importantly, rage. Speaking slowly, as if fearing saying too much at once would cause him to explode, Gohan asked, "...How is Pen? And my mother and grandmother? Is everyone safe, Dende?"
I don't—
"Tell me they're alright, Dende!" Gohan's voice was shaking. This far from Earth, in a part of the Universe so completely removed from the Milky Way, he could not sense ki without great difficulty. It had been a mistake. Leaving his daughter, leaving the rest of his family unattended was an error on his part, he knew it. The ground beneath his feat began to crack, giving way to the weight of a ki perturbed by the fluctuation of Gohan's emotions. The conversation was no longer private; everyone sensed the sudden rise in Gohan's ki — too aggressive for practising with his beloved younger brother — and had come to check on him.
"Dende!" Gohan's voice called back.
Gohan, I don't know! Cell nearly killed Bulma, Mr. Popo, and I! We had to flee to the Room of Spirit and Time! It's all I can do to contact you! You need to come back, please!
"Gohan, are you alright?!" Erasa had flown over to her husband's side, placing a hand on his arm. "You're cracking the planet, what's going on?!"
"We're in trouble...!" Gohan replied, not only to his wife, but to everyone present. "Cell's been revived, and he's on Earth!"
The collective shudder was such that it was clear the entirety of the Dragon Team understood the gravity of the situation. Rage filled Piccolo's eyes, while Yamcha and Tenshinhan flashed looks that were clearly questioning, but also hesitant and full of dread. Even Videl and Erasa, who had been regular bystanders at most, recognised the name and knew the damage Cell could cause A ripple passed over the entire group, and the silence was interrupted when Gohan spoke again.
"Dende...stay connected to me."
Earth, Scorched Wastelands
The efficiency of Dr. Gero was to be appreciated, Cell thought. It had been only a few short minutes, but his body was completely repaired. It wasn't possible to completely heal himself in a fight — one's energy could only be divided so far before using it for multiple tasks began to lessen the effectiveness of the techniques, and biological traits were no different — but if left to himself, this mere ten minutes had been enough to completely recuperate. Rising to his feet, Cell tightened and then released his fists, feeling the power course through his body. Or perhaps I've simply become that perfect, that I've completely gone beyond the limitations of my own design. With a self-centred smirk, the Bio-Android rubbed the back of his neck. "Now, it's time to resume the plan. If they won't come to me, I will lure them out."
Suddenly, Cell felt it. It was a disturbance, comparable to a gust of wind, but inside him. Ki sense? Perhaps, the sensation was comparable. But it felt like disturbance within his mind. A voice. Calling to him.
Cell!
He didn't recognise it at first; it had traits of someone he knew, but was subtly different. Whirling around, Cell tried to find the source. "Gokū! Is that you?! I killed you! I know it can't be you!"
"It isn't my father, Cell," the voice called out to him again, and before Cell's eyes, an apparition formed. It was of a young man, clad in purple gi. Emerald coloured earrings dangled from his ears, and his spiked black hair was rippling as if in a breeze. His face was furious, and his eyes burning. Only when their eyes met did Cell recognise the man he was seeing. It was Son Gohan. And yet it wasn't. He wasn't solid, his form wasn't present. He cast no shadow and made no imprint on the ground. Was it magic? Or the focus of telepathy and an animosity so strong that Cell could visualise it in the form of a person?
"You...!" Cell's surprise gave way to recognition, and then to anger. "Son Gohan! You've grown, boy! I can only assume you heard my greeting! But what is this?" He gestured to Gohan's current projection. "You can't be avoiding me! I remember how badly you wanted to kill me, and I've come back to return the favour!"
If Gohan understood what Cell was inquiring, he ignored it. "I know you're on Earth, Cell. Make no mistake, I am on my way. If there's a battle you want, I'll bring it to you! But until then, stand down! You'll get what you want, so I want you to keep yourself in check until I've arrived. And then I will make sure you can't ever be revived again."
"Is that so?" Cell asked. He lunged forward, closing in on the apparition of Gohan, and sliced it cleanly in half. His attack was backed by so much physical strength that, even after Gohan's image had faded and vanished, the ground behind where the projection had "stood" exploded in a burst of dust and debris, violently expelling itself backwards. His shoulders began to shake, and, out of the blue, Cell began to laugh. It was a raucous, mirthless laugh, high and insane, and his face bore the traces of delight and rage all at once.
"That's it, Gohan. Come and face me, boy. And when you do, pray there's even a portion of this world's population left to salvage!"
A/N: あけましておめでとうございます、みんあさん！I'm very excited to bring you the first chapter of not only the new year, but the new decade! 2020, and we're starting it off strong. I actually have a chapter ready within the first week of the month, what wizardry is this?! But seriously, even I'm surprised. It took me awhile to figure out how to get this chapter running; as much as I love writing Erased, it's been five (soon to be six) very long years, and you sort of run out of drive to write battle scenes repeatedly. I don't consider myself a creative person (not entirely, anyway, this story wouldn't be half as good if I didn't have a lot of good friends to brainstorm with, and various places to be inspired from), as well as writing for an audience I can't help but appreciate (yes, even the haters; everyone who voices a review, either negative or positive, gives me the motivation to keep writing!).
So I suppose I want to start 2020 with a thank you. The Erased Chronicles is nearing its 100th chapter, and I never expected to make it this far. So I want to say thank you; thank you to my friends, both the ones that encourage me and the even the ones who think I'm mad. I love you all, and you play your part in making this series come to life. And thank you to my readership. While I always believe people should make their projects for themselves — and I stand by this — I wouldn't have been motivated to make even five chapters of the Erased Chronicles if it hadn't been so well received. So, to people who continue to read the story despite my madness, thank you so much! Your continued readership means the world to me, and I hope you all continue to like what you see in chapter 100 and beyond!
I'll keep my words past this point brief: this fight was still very fun to write. Majin Bū and Cell are, at their cores, very similar characters. So having them fight feels...so fanfictiony, but I loved doing it. It just took a bit of mental stretching to get it to work out right! I think what people will take the most exception to is Bulma. This is something I did purely for myself, and I don't actually expect it to be well received. But give it a chance; let's see where I take it.
As always, thanks to Demod20 for editing! And I will see you all with even more of the Erased Chronicles this year!