The Palace of God, Room of Spirit and Time

Dende felt overwhelmed by the weight of sustaining the connection between Cell, Son Gohan, and the North Kaiō, feeling immensely relieved when the link between all three had been cut short. But most of all, it was the strength of Gohan and Cell's animosity towards each other — sheer and absolute loathing, emitted and reciprocated on both sides — which had nearly severed the connection too early. Whatever Gohan had been feeling transferred in a way the young God of Earth hadn't expected, and he was sure he would never see again; emotions having taken a near physical form in the eye of the beholder.

Does it have something to do with Gohan's training? Dende wondered, easing the door of the Room of Spirit and Time open carefully. I didn't know gods could do something like that...though I guess it shouldn't be surprising... Dende's thoughts were cut short when, no sooner had he closed the door, than a shrill sound pierced his sensitive Nameccian ears.

"What the HELL took you?!"

Dende found himself face to face with Bulma; the young woman had her hands on her hips, and her face was contorted in rage. She'd changed into what appeared to be a restored version of the outfit she had been wearing; a pink tank-top, skin-tight black shorts, as well as the armoured boots and white gloves that Vegeta had commonly been seen wearing. Her face was worked up in anger, a sort of fire burning in Bulma's eyes that had been missing over the past decade. "You say you're going to be right back and you leave me in here for nearly two days! It is incredibly — and I cannot stress that enough — uncomfortable being alone in this..." The young woman struggled briefly for the word, and it fell lamely from her lips, "...place...with an invalid attendant for even a few hours, much less a day and a half! How were you even gone for that long?! How hasn't Cell blown up the whole planet?!"

"B-Bulma, I wasn't gone that long!" Dende stressed, waving his hands defensively in front of him. He was trying to figure out why she was so angry with him, and then it clicked. "The time dilation! Bulma, remember, we're in the Room of Spirit and Time! I was barely out in our world for seven minutes...but to you, it was almost two whole days. Please, stop shouting."

The young god's gentle reminder and plea for her to calm down, surprisingly, succeeded in assuaging Bulma's fury. Her anger abating, Bulma briefly looked aged, as if she was her true appearance for a moment, before she snapped back into something resembling her current state. She ran a hand gloved hand through her long lavender hair, exhaling dramatically. "You're right. Sorry, I'm starting to feel the piling stress; this dimension is...so hard to be in, and coupled with my fear of what's going on outside, I'm on edge, Dende."

"Believe me, I understand," replied Dende, sighing in relief himself that Bulma was no longer damaging his delicate and sensitive hearing. "Though, you can't be having too hard of a time here."

"What do you mean?" inquired Bulma accusingly.

"I mean...you're standing and walking on your own just fine," Dende said, amazement betraying in his voice. "I expected to still see you bowled over, if I must be honest."

Large blue eyes blinked in surprise. Bulma glanced downward at her own body, and realised that Dende was telling the truth. The pressure was still there, she'd be lying if she said it didn't feel different from moving around on Earth. But her general inability to remain still when she was anxious — and nearly two days of waiting for Dende to return had certainly made her uneasy enough to pace like a madwoman — had forced her to move. She flexed her fingers, balling and unballing her fists, surprised at the ease of even that action, which before had felt like running a mile.

"Y-You're right!" she gasped, the realisation finally settling in. "I guess...it must be the adjustments, the Saiyan DNA." Bulma had never appreciated the changes her little experiment had done to her body until this moment; but then again, that was what every experiment was about. She was the field test, after all. "Still, I didn't expect results like this!" Moving her hand elegantly, Bulma created a thin arc of ki — rather than an offensive display, it was more artistic, beautiful even, tracing the lines of her mind and bringing them into thin air.

Hands held aloft at torso height, as if manipulating a marionette, Bulma's hair began to waft loftily. The young woman herself rose into the air, barely hovering a foot or so off the ground, but still, floating. "I still haven't gotten the hang of this...and the gravity here makes it so I can barely lift myself up...but I can feel it lightening!"

"That's great!" Dende sounded genuinely pleased. While he still couldn't say he approved of Bulma tampering with life the way she did — even her own, which, arguably, ought to be more sacred to her than another person's on a fundamental level — the results were still impressive, he could say that much. "Also, and I almost forgot to mention this; I was able to get through to Gohan. He's on his way here!"

The news came as such a shock that Bulma doubled over, nearly falling out of the air entirely. Righting herself, the lavender-tressed woman floated over to Dende, leaning in and glaring at him. "Gohan's coming back?! That's important news, how could you forget to tell me this?! We're going to be fine!"

"I-I'm sorry, you started yelling at me and it slipped my mind..." replied Dende meekly. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Hmph!" Bulma huffed, but didn't prolong the line of discussion. She knew Dende was right, but she wouldn't admit it; not outwardly, anyway. "But that's a relief...Gohan is on his way. This..." Bulma wasn't able to hold back her laughter, feeling her shoulders shake wearily. "He's really become his father? It reminds me of how that strange feeling of relief would wash over me the moment someone said Gokū was on his way."

Skyline, Earth

The Bio-Android menace Cell hovered high above the surface of the Earth; he was close to the stratosphere, yet not quite there. And he was no longer alone. Flanking the emerald terror were a group of familiar faces; some friendly, some terrifying, but each and every one of them recognisable. Shocks of black hair. Sleek alien appearances. Emerald green skin.

Son Gokū.

Vegeta.

Piccolo.

Freeza.

Cold.

These were the five individuals from whom Cell's genetic structure had been created, and by some divine miracle — or could it be said to be a devillish miracle instead? — he was surrounded by the five of them. Cell was honestly proud of their creation, as it wasn't something he'd have been able to do during his battle with Son Gohan so many years ago. But thanks to that woman, his powers had grown exponentially since then, and not merely in terms of strength; no, he'd gained access to an array of other abilities, some considered unnatural. Cell had always been able to create offspring, and this was similar, though different in some respects. By targeting the individual DNA of those who made up his combined genetic structure, Cell could isolate it, and recreate the individual to his specifications — biological cloning.

Cell had to say he was damn proud of creation. Each individual clone possessed all of their knowledge and techniques, and their strength was vastly multiplied compared to the original, a perk of being created from Cell, who was stronger than any of them had been at the time their DNA had been collected and used for his creation. Furthermore, not a single one possessed a will of their own; they would follow Cell's orders, and attack anything they deemed a threat, but lacked the will of the originals.

Puppets with the ability to detonate the planet.

Each of them is sure to shake you up, Gohan, Cell thought, surveying his progeny with a smug air. Familiar faces of friends, family, and enemies...and they're going to finish destroying your precious home.

A deep inhalation. Cell didn't need to breathe, but that wasn't to say he didn't appreciate the habit. This was the breath of anticipation that preceded an act of immense callousness. Exhaling slowly, Cell smiled, a smile so wide the whites of his teeth shone.

"Everyone, split out and lay waste to the planet!" Cell ordered, thrusting his index finger towards the horizon. "Leave no Earthliing left alive! Destroy every trace of civlisation you see!" He grin widened, and the Bio-Android felt a rush flood his body. Come on home, Son Gohan! Come to see the destruction left in the wake of your absence!

The duplicates auras flashed outward in a variety of hues — brilliant white, shimmering silver, deep indigo, and varying shades of purple and pink — each clone then splitting off from their Master, making headway across the surface of the Earth at breakneck speeds. Individual agents of destruction whose only counter-directive was to leave the planet whole; everything else was fair game. Beneath the eyes of the marauding copies, the scorched surface of the planet was broken up by the scattered lights of the M.E.C.C. barriers, which had understandably not been taken down.

And then the explosions began again.

BOOM!

BOMF!

BOM!

A multitude of explosions erupted across the planet, the sinister facsimiles of Son Gokū, Vegeta, Piccolo, Freeza, and Cold bombarding the barriers with various attacks which, on collision with the M.E.C.C. barriers, exploded harmlessly away from the cities they were protecting. Whatever one could say about Bulma, she could never be accused of half-baked work. The M.E.C.C. barriers stood strong against repeated assaults by the villainous mimics...

...because that's exactly what they were made for.

Whether it was a sudden realisation by those who shouldn't be able to think for themselves, an act of instinct, or even an unspoken directive from Cell, it was unclear. The Clone-Freeza made a descent towards the barrier protecting the Southern Capital, surveying it with distaste. A pale hand swung downward, chopping into the barrier with pure physical strength; sparks flew, the M.E.C.C. barrier indented slightly, but otherwise did not give. Clone-Freeza pulled back his hand, and the barrier restored its shape easily.

Obviously, a different method was needed. Clone-Freeza placed his hand against the M.E.C.C. barrier again...and it passed through as if there was nothing there at all. The clone's face split into a menacing grin; whatever this barrier was, it was designed to respond to excessive force, and would not reject someone simply passing through. Clone-Freeza's entire body phased through, slipping into the barrier without any obstruction.

Beneath the ceiling of the barrier, where many of the Earthlings had believe themselves safe, one of them cast a glance towards the sky, seeing with horror the shape of the floating alien high above them.

"S-SOMETHING GOT PAST THE BARRIER'S SURFACE!"

"RUN!"

Clone-Freeza gave them no time, his hand jutting out in a sweeping motion; a flash of light, a deafening explosion, drowning out the shrieks of terror; Clone-Freeza had carved a trench across the entirety of the Southern Capital, anyone and anything unfortunate enough to be caught in the path of this attack was cut in half with ease.

The knowledge of how to slip past the M.E.C.C. barriers was similarly figured out by each clone attacking a major dwelling on Earth; Clone-Vegeta launching his assault on the Western Capital, Clone-Cold on the Eastern, and Clone-Piccolo on the Central Capital. The only double who was not laying waste to one of Earth's larger metropoles was Clone-Gokū; the look-alike of Earth's former hero, cloaked in the bright white light of his ki, could be see making a beeline...

...to the East.

The Universe, Nebula of God, Beerus' Planet,

Beerus' planet was in an uproar. Cell surviving was an unprecedented turn of events — Tenshinhan, Piccolo, Yamcha, and Gohan, all of whom were well acquainted with Cell on various levels, were floored, and in Gohan's case, furious — while Goten, Trunks, Erasa, and Videl all knew of Cell, the former two through tales and the latter two from having been alive to experience the Bio-Android's reign of terror across the entirety of Earth. The news of his return had left them shaken as well.

Son Gohan himself had caused quite spectacle; he'd just finished making what was practically a declaration of war towards Cell, using the connection between North Kaiō and Dende. Gohan stood rigid, his eyes glazed over, as if he could see farther than anyone else could right now. The man's fists were balled tightly, and, in defiance of his glazed eyes, Gohan's face was worked into legitimate rage and fury. It was the soft touch of a hand slipping around his own tightly clenched fist which caused Gohan to relax; the tension flooded out of the Saiyan-half, and he came back to himself.

During his brief surge of emotion, Gohan had experienced something during that telepathic link between the two lesser deities that he'd never experienced before; he'd gotten a clear view of Cell, who had also seemed as if he'd been able to see him; he was unable to see where Cell was, but the Bio-Android had appeared before him before him and actually rushed him. Looking towards his torso, Gohan had expected to see some level of harm there — it had been where Cell had tried to strike him — but he was unblemished. It had severed whatever connection they had, and he could no longer see the damn Android.

"Take things slowly, Gohan," urged his wife. "We'll get back to Earth and handle this but we're going to need to actually get back there first, and to do that, you can't fly off the handle." Erasa was speaking slowly and calmly, having seen the rise in her husband's emotions; it was the sort of surge she'd only seen when the man was preparing for a battle, and she knew the destruction that could come as a result. The blonde woman turned to Whis, immediately assessing the quickest and easiest way to get them all back home.

"I don't suppose you'd be able to get us back to Earth the same way you brought us here?" Erasa inquired tentatively. "Time is of the essence, and we really need to protect our home."

The blue-skinned man shook his head firmly. "I'm afraid I cannot. This is an internal Earth affair, and it isn't my place to interfere; you'll have to find a way back to Earth on your own."

"Wait, you can't help us?" Yamcha asked, anger rising in his voice. "You understand this is an emergency, right?! We can't even afford to be having this conversation!"

"My official stance is neutrality," replied Whis, in the tone of a parent explaining that two plus two equals four to a child who refused to understand. "Myself — and others like me — are not allowed to participate directly in the comings and goings of humans. I am here in a official capacity to train the Hakaishin, Lord Beerus, and I believe that training your group will further inspire my lord to continue down the path of martial arts." He chuckled to himself. "And there's always the chance that one of you could take his place. Yet acting as a mentor is as far as I can go, I'm afraid. Humans are meant to develop on their own; so find your way back, and prove to me that my training has not gone to waste."

"Whis, please, this is our entire planet we're talking about!" implored Videl. "We can't just look for a way off this world when we don't even know where we are!"

"Do you think you're the first species in this Universe to face extinction and planetary destruction? It may be your entire world to you, but to me, it's nothing more than a droplet amidst an ocean." Whis' reply wasn't cold, though the matter-of-fact nature by which he said it may have made it far worse. It wasn't that the man didn't care; he simply viewed things on a level different than those of mere mortals. It was a fact of Whis' existence.

The man's firm denial left the group feeling thoroughly defeated. The lot of them were effectively stranded on a world lightyears away while their home was under threat, and the only way home was currently telling them they'd have a better chance swimming through the vacuum of space.

"I feel weak for saying it, but I wish we had Gokū here," Tenshinhan groaned. "I feel like we didn't appreciate his teleportation ability nearly enough..."

"Dad's not here, though," Goten said obviously. "We're going to have to figure out something else..."

Tenshinhan's words struck a chord with Gohan; realisation quickly followed. "No...Tenshinhan might have an idea. We may not have Dad, but I think we can still manage to get our way back home. We do know someone else that can teleport."

Trunks look at Gohan blankly. "We do...?"

Piccolo cottoned on quickly, realising that Gohan was onto something. "That's it, Gohan!" The Nameccian truened his attention towards the skies. "Kaiō! Are you still listening in?!"

"It's hard to believe you fused with your planet's god. You still don't respect me, do you Piccolo?"

"That's not important right now!" replied Piccolo harshly. "We're in a bind, Kaiō! Use your telepathy to patch us into Lord Kaiōshin! We need his assistance!"

"So you'll affix him with a title...fine! Give me a moment!"

Silence followed this exchange, the North Kaiō's words left figuratively hanging in the air. Within moments, however, the voice of the Kaiōshin entered their minds.

"Hello, everyone! The North Kaiō just informed me that you all are in dire need of my help? How can I be of assistance?"

The deity's voice sounded earnest, stressed, as if he was eager to help; perhaps his failings with Majin Bū were still weighing on him. Piccolo took the lead in delegating, speaking directly to the superior deity.

"Lord Kaiōshin, our planet is under attack! We know you're capable of teleportation, and we require your aid in getting back to Earth!"

"I can help with that; it's not an exaggeration to say that I still owe all of you. Where are you all?"

"Lord Beerus' planet!"

"Alright! I'll be there momentarily!"

"It looks like we've found our way out," Trunks grinned. The heavy feeling that had been weighing the group down was beginning to dissipate; it was given no time, however, to completely vanish when the diminutive form of Shin manifested, his boots touching the grass of Beerus' planet. The deity's dark, onyx eyes gazed upwards at everyone, even as he turned bow respectfully to Whis. "Lord Whis," he said, inclining his head towards the attendant of the Hakaishin. "Please pass my apologies to Lord Beerus for barging in like this."

The blue-skinned attendant smiled, and made a motion indicative of a courteous nod. "Of course. Though I am sure my Lord will be pleased to have the planet to himself again, even if only for a little while."

Shin nodded himself, before turning towards the entire group. "Everyone, gather around me, quickly. I believe you've all teleported with Son Gokū before, yes? The idea behind my technique is the same; grab hold of myself, or someone holding onto me, and I can teleport us back to Earth." Following these instructions, the group began to crowd around Shin; Piccolo and Gohan took the lead, each of them placing a hand on the deity's shoulders; Erasa, Videl, and the rest placed their hands on Piccolo and Gohan, and then on each other, until it appeared as if Shin was the centre of a strange ritual.

"Alright...here we go, everyone!"

In an instant, faster than blinking, the entire group vanished. Whis was left standing, a lone conscious presence on the planet of his direct superior; or so he'd thought. A slow, deliberate yawn alerted him to the presence of another. Lord Beerus, still in his dressing gown, stumbled down towards Whis, collapsing into an exhausted sitting position. He yawned again, revealing his rows of sharp incisors, pawing at his own face before finally speaking.

"So they're finally...gone, are they?" the Hakaishin asked thickly, his voice stifled by another yawn. "I was...beginning to think...they'd never clear out of here."

"Really, now?" inquired Whis. "The boy may very well be rushing off to his death; does that not concern you in the slightest, Lord Beerus?"

"Not at all," replied Beerus irritably. "If he dies from something like this — something that woman overstepping her bounds is cooking up — then he wasn't truly worthy of being called my arch-rival. We aren't they're babysitters; that's all there is to it."

Earth, Ruined City

Instantly after vanishing from Beerus' planet, the group reappeared on Earth, their feet touching solid ground immediately. Everyone broke apart, giving the Kaiōshin valuable breathing room; the diminutive deity looked around at the clear signs of destruction with sorrow on his face. "I don't know what's going on here, but it does appear that I was right to listen to the North Kaiō and come to your aid." Stepping away from them, Shin raised a hand in a sign of parting. "I'll be praying for your success from my far-off world."

Without another word, the Kaiōshin vanished before their eyes.

In the absence of Shin, the realisation of what they were standing in came crashing down. Buildings destroyed. Bodies scattered throughout the streets. The acrid smell of burning flesh mingled with the smell of now scorched metal and glass; Gohan, Trunks, and Goten nearly doubled over from the sudden influx of scents flooding their nostrils, managing to steady themselves through sheer resolve and nothing else.

"This is horrible..." Erasa gaped in horror at the sight of the devastated landscape, her fists clenching in frustration. "All of this while we were gone..."

"He didn't waste any time..." Gohan growled, trying to focus singlemindedly on what they had come back to do. Stressing out over the lost lives and wasted buildings wouldn't kill Cell any faster; this much he knew from experience. "But my senses are going haywire...I know I can sense Cell; his constantly shifting, unnatural ki. At the same time, I can also feel..." Mentally, Gohan accounted for every anomalous ki signature on the planet with a horror-struck expression.

"Our dads..." Goten and Trunks gasped.

"Piccolo..." muttered Videl.

"Freeza and his father..." growled Piccolo.

A rushing wind encircled Gohan, flying into the sky; his clothes, hair, and earrings ruffled with the invisible force. His eyes flashed, from onyx to emerald, and back again. The desolation Cell had left in the wake of his planet. The fact that he could sense not only the likes of Freeza, and Freeza's father, Cold, but his own father, infuriated the Saiyan-half. Whis' words had chosen an impromptu moment to rush back to him. Gohan did dislike fighting, but it wasn't that simple; he disliked the misery and destruction that a careless use of power wrought. He'd seen what people high on their own strength could and would do to those who couldn't defend themselves; his own uncle, Raditz; Vegeta, at his worst; the tyrannical Freeza; the egomaniacal Cell; Majin Bū, an effigy of chaos.

I'm different. Dad was different.

Resisting the urge to slap his own face in an effort to motivate himself, Gohan wrenched his mind away from these distracting thoughts. "Everyone, we're going to have to move, and move quickly. I can already feel numerous ki signatures dropping planetwide." Even worse, whatever it is that feels like Dad is getting closing to home! "We don't have the time to formulate a plan, so let's move!" A vibrant burst of light followed Gohan's proclamation, his comrades and himself flaring their auras ans splitting up. Gohan and Erasa, already on the same page, were rushing pell-mell towards the East Mountain Distinct; Yamcha rushed towards the Eastern Capital; Tenshinhan towards the Central Capital, Piccolo, who had already marked his prey, headed towards the Southern Capital, Videl in hot pursuit of her teacher, while Trunks headed to the West. Goten, however, had split off from the group entirely, rushing towards the Northern Capital, where he felt ki signature he knew well growing weaker.

Barreling along the decimated landscape of his home planet, Goten realised he was closing in on the Northern Capital. This sudden comprehension shocked the young Saiyan-half to his core. The skyline of what had been one of the most populous and productive cities on the entire planet — second to the Western Capital — had been erased completely. In its place was nothing but the horizon, with a charred, scorched crater where the city had originally been. Lying within the crater was the ki signature Goten had been sensing; he curved downward, landing solidly on the ruptured ground...

...next to the battered body of a barely conscious Qirka. The young man knelt down, immediately cradling the limp body of Qirka in his arms. He was trembling, terribly aware that she was growing colder by the second. He could feel two other ki only short ways around; turning, the ebony-haired Saiyan saw the unconscious Carmina, held in the arms of her mother, Miss Bū. The teal-skinned Majin woman's face broke out into relief when she saw Goten.

"I-It's you! Son Gohan's younger brother, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's right," replied Goten. "What happened here? To Qirka? To the city? How are you and your daughter laid out? Aren't you the same as Majin Bū?"

"It's too much to explain at once, but neither my daughter nor I have abilities on the same level as my husband," replied Miss Bū quickly. "Besides, that man...he used a sort of power that completely threw my body off balance. I'm still trying to regenerate..."

"That man? Cell?"

"That's right," Miss Bū confirmed. "He was the one who 'laid us out', as you phrased it. And he's the reason the city is destroyed, and the young lady there is on the flo—"

"I see," replied Goten, cutting her off. "That's what I wanted to know." Intense, red-orange flames burst from Goten's body, enveloping both himself and the woman he held in his arms, and then faded as quickly as it came. Qirka's eyes began to flutter, first slowly, then more rapidly, and slowly they opened. Icy blue eyes met deep black ones, and Qirka's arm rose to touch Goten's face weakly. She smiled, her eyes shining with dampness.

"Goten...you're here..."

"Yeah, I'm here," Goten's grip on Qirka tightened. "I'm sorry I didn't get back here sooner..."

"You...needn't worry..." She winced, not from the strength of Goten's grip — which, contrary to the effort he was exerting, felt comforting to the woman in a way she couldn't explain — but from a pain of a different source. "My functionality has not been impaired...but...I can't explain this sudden surge of pain in my head..." Her free hand gripped the side of her head, the pain spiking severely. "and...my memory ceased recording of any events...during the end of my battle with Cell..."

Pain? Goten wasn't surprised, but there wasn't anything he could do to fix it immediately. He'd managed to stabilise her condition with his ki to prevent her from worsening, but if something had been damaged internally, that was beyond the scope of his abilities. Damn it...why this have to happen while I was gone?! Tears fell, hot and fresh, from Goten's face; his shaking renewed itself, no longer anger but grief. Qirka's face, normally stoic, flashed with surprised amidst her discomfort.

"Are you...crying for me? The Mistress was right...when she suggested I seek you out..." Qirka wiped the steady flow of liquid from Goten's eyes, smiling weakly. "You don't...need to cry..." She pulled Goten's face towards hers; cold lips met warm lips, and it took Goten's grief-stricken brain a moment to realise that Qirka was kissing him. The shock and surprised stemmed the flow of his tears immediately; before Goten knew it, he was kissing her back. Qirka, for the first time in her existence, felt a cocktail of emotions that she couldn't process; Goten, meanwhile, felt the fire that usually accompanied his thoughts of Qirka, magnified fiercely.

When the two broke apart, there were no feelings of embarrassment or shock; only satisfaction and a renewed determination lingered in the air.

"Qirka, let's get you all someplace safe..." muttered Goten. "Then we're going to settle this."

Western Capital, Earth

Trunks raced headlong across Earth, seeking out the power signature that resonated with him most. He could see the denizens of the Western Capital rushing around in a panic, the sight of multiple Earthlings and even extraterrestrial visitors scurrying away in fear filled the young man's eyes from the moment he passed through the Western Capital's M.E.C.C. barrier. Kikōha rained down from the sky, collisions with the buildings and other structures resulting in massive explosions.

The once beautiful city of the Western Capital, easily the largest city on Earth after his mother's tireless reformation work over the past decade, was being reduced to rubble. Smoke was rushing into high plumes, issuing out of the buildings that had been struck by incoming kikōha. Trunks, unable to look at the desolation caused to his city, searched instead for the source of the attack. His senses worked overtime, locating the ki of the assailant. Trunks' heart plummeted into his stomach, words failing to reach his mouth. Floating high above the Western Capital, still within the confines of the M.E.C.C. barrier, was a shorter than average man with spiked black hair that made up for some of his missing height. Clad in a combat jacket of white and gold contrasting to the black and green of Trunks', was his father.

Dad...! thought Trunks. He would have to fight an effigy of his father to save the city he called home.

Southern Capital, Earth

"The city is nearly gone, sensei..." muttered Videl, surveying the destruction of the Southern Capital in horror. "What...the hell is going on here?"

"Cell wouldn't have it any other way," replied Piccolo. "And I know precisely which of his accomplices is responsible for laying waste to the city this way!"

The student-and-teacher duo closed in on the pale, bare figure of a slender extraterrestrial. The individual was releasing pink blasts of ki in every direction; the city, nearly demolished, was now being rid of what remained of life. With every shot, the assailant hit a target, killing the victim with a shot through the heart. It didn't escape its notice, however, that two people of considerable power had joined it. Turning its attention away from the last vestiges of the Southern Capital, Piccolo and Videl saw their target in full.

"Sensei...who is that?" Videl couldn't explain why, but the sight of this man drove deep into her a sense of dread.

"Just as I thought," muttered Piccolo, loathing in his voice. "That's Freeza...or at least something that looks damn near identical. Keep your guard up; he wasn't an easy opponent then and I doubt he's going to be an easy one now."

Eastern Capital, Earth

At the Eastern Capital, the worst of the destruction had already been prevented. The timely intervention of the monks of the Orin Temple close by had allowed for a evacuation of the bulk of the citizenry. Yamcha had already made it towards the Capital, attracting the attention of Cold. Side by side, the former enemies adopted combat stances against the effigy of the former Emperor. Cold was creating two spheres of ki above each hand, an expression of madness worked over his face.

"So that's him, isn't it?" muttered Yamcha. "Freeza's father, the one that the Trunks from the future killed way back when." It felt just like him, his ki was identical. "Looks like I won't have the luxury of wasting time!"

Central Capital, Earth

Tenshinhan had not been to the Central Capital in many years. It had gone from the main capital of the planet to a Capital that was on similar standing to the other cities; the Western Capital had long since surpassed it in every regard. The King of Nations, in fact, now held less power than Bulma's family. This didn't mean, however, that the King did not retain some ceremonial position; the Central Capital remained important, and Tenshinhan was shaken to see the city lain waste. The castle, surprisingly, stood tall, yet Tenshinhan had a hunch that wouldn't last for long.

He could sense it. The effigy of Piccolo closing in. Had he the time, he'd appreciate the dramatic irony of facing down Piccolo again the King's own city. But the time for reminiscing could come later. All three eyes locked onto a green shape beginning to rush towards him. The Piccolo duplicate had spotted him.

East Mountain District 439, Earth

Chi-Chi wiped the sweat from her brow, easing herself out of her bedroom. Gine had collapsed after she'd protected all of them from the literal rain of fire, and Chi-Chi had taken it upon herself to carry the woman back home — no easy feat, considering they'd been spending the day quite a ways into the wilderness and she had to trust her granddaughter with her infant daughter — and tend to her wounds. She'd set Gine up in her own bed, deciding it was better that the woman recover in a more spacious room.

She really is my Gokū's mama, Gine thought, shutting the door quietly. Not only did she also turn into a Super Saiyan, she's super determined... The ebony-tressed woman silently walked through the house towards the kitchen. Both daughter and granddaughter were sleeping quietly, though she'd had to convince little Pen to actually rest. In truth, Chi-Chi wanted a moment to process the fact that all of them had nearly died, and believe she could roll her emotions over her head best in silence.

Passing through her kitchen, Chi-Chi stepped back outside, feeling a cool rush of air on her face. Their planet was under attack for the umpteenth time, and the rest of her family was nowhere to be seen. Chi-Chi sighed; she wasn't so desensitised that she didn't feel the creeping sense of dread at the approaching doom of her planet, though she found it far more worrying that everything could go up in smoke and she wouldn't see the faces of her sons.

Gohan...Goten..where are you two?

Rustling caught Chi-Chi's ears, the widowed housewife searching for the source of the sound. Coming out from the trees was a figure she knew too well; the familiar shock of black hair, the orange gi. She recognised the man immediately.

"M-My Gokū...?" Chi-Chi's initial reaction to seeing the visage of her husband was a rush of warm feelings. Everything was as it should be; all that was familiar was in the right place. Chi-Chi failed to notice, however, the lack of a halo and the condemning fact that Gokū was wearing his familiar orange gi, rather than his green gi. Blind to these signs, under the stress of Earth being assaulted, Chi-Chi accepted the sight of this imposter as genuine and ran to it seeking some semblance of safety...

That ain't me, Chi-Chi!

A voice rang, echoing inside her head. The voice carried the warmth and comfort of the man she knew so well...and it didn't come from the lookalike standing in front of her. The psychic call jolted Chi-Chi to reality long enough for her sleeping martial arts reflexes to finish the job; she sidestepped quickly, not having fully approached the copy of Gokū, and narrowly missed a kikōha that flew past her. The plasma sphere that passed her by solidly rocked Chi-Chi back to reality. Whoever this was — or whatever it was — and no matter how much it resembled her husband, it wasn't him. Gokū would never attack her; she knew that. Eyes brimming with fury. "Who are you?" she growled. "Why do you look like my husband?!"

The clone of Gokū gave no verbal response. Instead, he raised his hand, materialising another sphere of ki within it. Chi-Chi would have no luck dodging a second strike. The housewife stood rooted the spot, the realisation that she would be killed by a man who resembled her husband rushing toward; when the kikōha, much larger than the previous, was fired, it almost seemed to move in slow motion.

Chi-Chi closed her eyes, expecting an impact and felt nothing. When she opened them again, two figures clad in purple stood in front of her. The taller of the two, a young man with a shock of black hair, extended a hand; the kikōha crashed into it, fighting against a force that would not budge. Easily, Son Gohan lifted the sphere and lobbed it into the sky, where it exploded in a violent display.

"G-Gohan...Erasa...?" The two figures registered completely in her eyes. Her oldest son and her daughter in law had crashed to the ground before her, and saved her life.

"We're here now, Mom," said Gohan softly. "You don't need to worry anymore."

"Where's Pen? Is she alright?" inquired Erasa worriedly. She didn't see her daughter anywhere with her mother-in-law.

"S-She's fine!" Chi-Chi replied. "Everyone is safe..."

Gohan let himself breathe again. His daughter was safe. Looking at Chi-Chi, he realised his mother was no longer pregnant, which meant his youngest sibling had already been born. "So everyone is safe...Pen...my grandmother...and my youngest sibling I haven't even gotten to meet." Angrily, Gohan focused entirely on the effigy of his father. "Cell...making a mockery of Dad like this!" He readied himself to take a stance, and his father's look-a-like seemed only ready to fight as well, but he was stopped when a smaller hand placed itself on his chest. Erasa stepped out in front of him, smiling broadly

"Erasa...?"

"You have somewhere else to be now, don't you?" Erasa asked pointedly. "Everyone's safe here...and I can protect our family. You have your own battle elsewhere; don't spend your power here. He's waiting for you. Even I can sense it."

She was right. Another fight was calling to him — and Gohan had his own reasons for wanting to answer that call. Embracing his wife, Gohan could only thank her. "When you finish up here, let Pen know we're here. This won't take long." Firmly, he gripped Chi-Chi's shoulder. "Mom, please go into the house and stay somewhere safe. Everything is about to get rough."

"But I can't—"

"Mother, please," Erasa insisted. "I can handle things out here a lot easier without worrying if you're safe from stray shots."

Chi-Chi sighed, acquiesced, and walked back into her home. Erasa nodded to her husband.

"Go."

He didn't need telling twice. In a flash of white, Gohan took off at the height of his speed; Erasa saw the blue of her husband's body before he vanished into the horizon. At the same time, the effigy of Gokū had rushed forward, aiming for where Gohan had been before. His fist sliced through air, before crashing into the slender hand and fingers of Erasa. She gripped his fist tightly, and her body flared with a red aura. Her blond hair became rigid, deepening into a crimson the colour of blood, spiking up. Her wide sapphire eyes narrowed, darkening to an onyx hue that reflected no light. Behind her back, multiple spheres of ki floated in a halo formation.

"Forgive me, Father. I'm going to be quite rough with you."

Earth, Scorched Wastelands

After setting his scourge loose upon the planet, Cell had descended back to the surface of the Earth. Hovering or standing still, it wouldn't personally matter, but Cell was no stranger to standing and waiting. And he would wait. Gohan would arrive; that much he was certain of. Cell remembered only to vividly the look of cold, utter contempt the young boy had for him during their fight, all of those years ago. The crushing blows Gohan had landed, his insolence, the lad's insistence that he make Cell suffer.

The Bio-Android grit his teeth in frustration and anger, pale hands gripping crossed arms with enough force to draw purple ichor forth. Cell would wait. And he would kill Gohan this time.

The flash of white ki lit the sky, accompanied by a crashing sound, akin to an explosion. Reflected within Cell's rose-coloured eyes, a pillar of brilliant white light could be seen; this pillar had descended from the sky, thin, but vibrant and strong. The ground beneath it ruptured where it landed, cracking the crust and forcing debris to fly in all directions. Cell braced himself for the inevitable shockwave, the light dying away and the noise fading out.

Standing before him, far more solid than the projection from earlier, was Son Gohan. The young lad was clad in purple and blue, strange earrings jangling with the last of their own kinetic energy from Gohan's rough descent. His fists were clenched, his onyx hair standing high, yet what caught Cell's eye most of all was the expression on his face. Gohan's countenance was fixed, a dark working of his regular features that Cell could recognise and would never forget, even though his nemesis had by more than two decades.

"Son Gohan..." said Cell, extending his arms in mock welcome; at the same time, he adopted a stance reminiscent of the one Freeza favoured. "How I have waited for this day. Longer than you could ever know."

"Personally, I could have passed on this day for the rest of my life," said Gohan contemptuously. "I hoped to never see you again, Cell. But not only have you somehow managed to come back, you've lain waste to my planet, made a mockery of my friends and family, and put their lives at risk!"

"Oh it was all for you," replied Cell genially. "You know I'm not nothing if not a showman, Son Gohan. And I believe the little puppets and light shows put on quite a spectacle! But everything will be truly finished when I wrench your head from your shoulders!"

"You're going to have to enjoy being disappointed. I don't have any intention of dying here today," Gohan crouched down, raising his right arm backwards, clenching the hand in a clawlike motion; his left arm was elevated at torso level, the palm flat against the empty air. "The only one dying will be you, Cell."

Cell leered.

Gohan glowered.

The two rushed forward, the ground exploding beneath their feet from the sheer force. Gohan's forearm clashed into Cell's, the sheer force of the blow creating a crater ludicrous size beneath the both of them. The rematch had begun.

A/N: Whoo boy! The 92nd chapter is finally up! Honestly, I can't say I like how long it took for me to get this chapter up and going, but, if you'd believe it, after seven years of writing battle chapters, I kind of am burning out. That doesn't mean I'm going to stop writing Erased by any stretch of the imagination, but you eventually run out of ways to describe creative battling since I am not always the most inventive. So the fact that this arc, as with any Dragon Ball arc, leads to a stream of battles, means that I am feeling some slight trepidation. But hopefully, I'll be able to get over whatever is dragging me down.

Also, to anyone who has been keeping up with The Future is Black, I've put out a new chapter. That story ties into the Erased Chronicles, so it is worth reading, I'd say. Meanwhile, to anyone who is wondering where my idea for Cell to be able to make clones came from; many video games have weirdly given him that power, and I decided to use it here. I think it's gonna work out better than Cell Juniours, which I was gonna originally go with.

As always, thank you to Demod20 for making sure this chapter was shipshape. I'll see you all in the next chapter of The Erased Chronicles.