Chapter 103 - Baphomet

Seventh Universe, The Milky Way, Galactic Patrol Prison

The Galactic Patrol.

Theoretically, the head of law enforcement in the Seventh Universe's Milky Way. Other universes had their own analogues littered throughout their galaxies, but the Galactic Patrol was it's own unique brand of quirky. Every member was prided as the "elite" of their world - for better or for worse - and they had a history stretching back to the age of the Grand Kaiōshin, and had worked worked with the gods and by themselves to capture some of the worst the Galaxy had to offer. Here, in the Galactic Patrol prison, these offenders were kept under the tightest security that could be provided.

The interior of the building was smooth, marble white and accented in purple. The main office, which was kept at the height of the cylindrical structure, was filled with holoscreens that monitored each and every individual cell - numbering in the hundreds.

Because of their faith in their methods, as well as the bounty of technology they'd acquired from Bulma, the defacto leader of Earth, the air within the prison was light, and very relaxed. Members of the Galactic Patrol, symbolised by their skintight jumpsuits and white armor attachments, emblazoned with the Galactic Patrol symbol, were idling away their time. The only one who seemed to be actively alert was a young man with purple skin and green tinted hair. He gave off different aura from the other members.

In an organisation composed of the elites, he was the elite of the elites. He alone eyed the security monitors, his eyes that so matched his skin observing seemingly every detail. They lingered every now and again on the holoscreen that showcased the high security prisoners, but otherwise never wavered on their watchfulness. He was Agent Merus, and he took his job seriously. Because of that, as long as it was his shift, he would attend to the monitors dutifully.

Food and drink, he thought, amused, would be distractions. I can keep watch long after the others have tended to more human needs.

Bodily functions aside, Merus felt something...wrong. He couldn't put a pin on it, but he felt bad tidings on the horizon, and his hunches tended to be foresight, rather than guesswork. Seconds idled into minutes, and minutes into hours. Merus hardly moved- seemingly a statue composed of flesh - as others cycled in and out of the room, adhering to their schedules. Silenced filled Merus brain. And then—

KABOOM!

The entire prison was rocked by a resounding explosion. The main office was shrouded in a blast of smoke, obscuring the vision of anyone with sensitive eyes. The detonation itself was defeaning, stunning nearly everyone into shock. Only Merus, a picture of professionalism, was already gripping his blaster - he'd been ready at the moment of detonation. His brain began to work furiously - he'd immediately expected the air to rush into the vacuum of space, but they remained relatively well contained.

The automatic barrier function must have engaged, he surmised, partially relieved.

"Everyone, stay calm!" Merus instructed in a clear, firm voice. "Jirobo, please send word to HQ that the Galactic Prison has been breached! They can expect a full debriefing after analysis of the situation!" A stout alien, Earthling-like in appearance with horns that protruded from his head like a crown, nodded curtly and made his way towards one of the keyboards. "Gibli, please head down to Section F - I feel a separate explosion occurred down there!" Gibli, a round-headed alien with protuberant eyes, saluted before dashing through the smoke towards a solid-light lift.

"Remaining officers!" Merus extended a collapsible polearm, swinging it above his head and clearing the room of obscuring smoke in one fell movement. "We have company." The clearing of the smoke revealed the voluptuous figure of a woman - she was dressed in a cybernetic enhancement suit, her face partially masked akin to the shinobi found on planet Edo. What little could be seen of her face revealed narrow, cold gray eyes, and a shock of short brown hair.

"Bold of you to send only one person down to the bowels of the prison," the woman spoke slowly, each word followed by a step into the main office. "I suppose you didn't consider for a moment that I was merely the vanguard?"

Merus chilled. He'd expected the explosion down in the depths was a secondary one meant to throw off detection of the first. Had he been shortsighted and sent Gibli to die? The purple-skinned man made a motion to bolt from the room, to follow Gibli and pull him back—

—only to find his path cut off by a streak of purple. His body moved with the instinct of a trained fighter, and his polearm deflecting an incoming blow, bouncing back a solid light tonfa. His assailant, the woman from earlier, had crossed the distance of the room faster the blinking, and crouched, catlike. Within both gloved hands were twin tonfas of solid light, glowing blue.

"Please now, Agent Merus," she purred. "Your fight is with me. The only one who has business below is my Lady. You won't disturb her work."

"Your superior is down there, then?!" inquired Merus carefully. Polearm gripped in one hand, he kept his other free. "Does she have any particular...no..." Realisation, cold and thick, washed over him. "She's not here to free him, is she?!"

The ninja-like woman's eyes widened in surprise, before narrowing to their normal shape again. "Your mind works quickly. All to be expected, as my Lady knows what you are. You're close...my Lady is not here to free him. She's going to remove him from the picture."

"As a Galactic Patrol agent, I cannot condone unauthorised execution," replied Merus. "Besides, he can't die so easily. That's why his sentence is life imprisonment."

"Consider his sentence commuted," she replied drily. The nameless woman prepared to leap—

Merus motioned with his free hand; the gesture was clear to the Galactic Patrol agents within the room. They opened fire, unleashing powerful beams from their blasters towards Merus' opponent.

The explosion never came. She combined both tonfas into a single staff, spinning it in front of her: the blaster bolts wrapped themselves around the staff, swirling in time with the weapon itself. The ninja woman raised the spinning staff to her side, aglow now with the energy of the blasters.

"You're hurting a lady's feelings, Agent Merus," said the woman. "If I didn't know better—" she lunged, closing in and swinging her staff. The energy she'd wrapped around it was let loose in a violent wave, enveloping the entire area in front of her. "—I'd say you didn't like me."

The wave of energy came face to face with a solid wall of air, stopping it dead. The wave fought against the wall before petering and dying out. One of the Patrol agents gasped. "M-Merus, thank you!"

Merus shook his head, and returned the device which cast the barrier to his holster. He was making mistakes, and this woman was banking on that. He could still feel Gibli's ki, small though it was. But for how long? And the fact that he couldn't sense a foreign enemy, far from alleviating his fears, worsened them. "My apologies; it's nothing personal, I've merely never seen myself as one to fraternise with those on the side of evil. Please, I must ask that you move."

"That won't be happening," said the woman sternly. "I've got a thing for strong, justice types like yourself. So why don't we dance a little longer, my dear Agent?!"

Merus, unable to find a way past this woman, grit his teeth and prepared for the worst.

Galactic Patrol Prison, Section F, High-Security Ward

Gibli might have appreciated his superior's concern, as he found himself the furthest thing from fine. He wasn't harmed, at least not physically. In fact, his trip down to the high-security ward had been chillingly devoid of intruders - only his fellow Patrolmen, all unconscious. With trepidation, he'd continued down to the bowels of the Galactic Prison, and found himself rooted to the spot.

The prison cell of the worst prisoner in their ward had been breached - a prisoner by the name of Moro. Though it had been millennia since he last terrorised the universe, the Galactic Patrol knew him well. They'd captured him, back during a time when they were known as the Galaxy Police and the Grand Kaiōshin had been alive. Moro was a being capable of devouring entire worlds, his abilities allowing him to feast on ki and grow more powerful. Gibli wanted to reach for his communicator: if Moro was the cause of all this, he had no chance. No one had a chance. All he could do was order a Code Juneon - a Galactic Patrol evacuation order. Even Merus lacked the authority to override it, though Gibli knew Merus would trust his judgement.

The issue was Gibli couldn't move. Because the sight he found was far more terrifying than simply Moro being loose.

Someone was in his cell. A blonde woman, with her back turned to him. She held Moro up by his neck, keeping a careful and firm hold on the weakened prisoner. This, more than anything, terrified him. Only the gods were supposed to be able to handle Moro, and even they had a hard time. A random intruder should not be able to manhandle him this way.

"You...!" Moro spoke, and his voice was a deep, reverberating brass, even with his constricted airway. "How did you...?!"

The woman's voice by contrast was middle pitched and sharp. "You pose a problem to me, Planet-Eater Moro. I was able to interfere with many things...buy myself time...but the Grand Kaiōshin's seal is close to breaking. And you interfere with my vision. While your magic is sealed, I will dispose of you."

"I remember you..." croaked Moro, his hands struggling at hero's. "When you were an Acolyte...near the time I—"

"Hakai."

The word pierced Moro's speech, cutting him off before he could finish. An explosion of purple energy filled the room, and Moro burst. The woman now clutched grains of sand and dust, the bulk of which poured onto the ground and pooled there.

Gibli's stomach turned over. He fought the sick that rose from his gut, keeping himself steady and reaching for his holster. Communication was out. He'd have to fight.

"Be still."

It wasn't a request. It was a command. Gibli obeyed.

"Good. I have no interest in taking your life. Wanton destruction serves me no purpose before the allotted time." A pulsating wave released from her body, hitting Gibli full force. He felt his consciousness slip, blackness overtaking him.

Galactic Patrol Prison, Main Office

Merus and the unnamed woman were still locked in battle. Neither opponent gave an inch, yet neither appeared to be exerting themselves either. The woman had switched from her staff back to tonfas, and was assaulting Merus' defences with rapid fire combination strikes. Merus, to his credit moved well; he weaved through the majority of her blows, and deftly parried the ones that surprised him. The clang of metal on solid light rang throughout the room, it being clear to those who watched why Merus held the rank of Captain. The forward strike of his opponent was quickly ducked, and Merus responded by sliding the polearm upwards, narrowly missing a stunning blow on her chin. The woman flipped backwards, moving away from Merus as he pursued; the two were seemingly bouncing off solid material, repelling themselves the instant they made contact with a surface.

Clashing in the centre of the room, solid light hit metal again, only the two remained aloft above the floor this time, pushing back against the other. Sparks crackled at the points of impact, and only when Merus gave a final push was his opponent forced back. She spun in air, righting herself before she touched the surface. Eyeing Merus, who touched down as well, she retracted both tonfas.

"I'm done here," she said airily. "Prisoner Moro has been dealt with."

Merus grimaced. She'd held him up so effectively... "I can still bring you in." He replied, brandishing his staff.

"No, you can't," the woman replied, crossing the room to rush past him, muttering just low enough for him to hear. "Not unless you want to break your little code."

Merus froze. She knows! His split second indecision, however, was all his opponent needed to slip out of the hole she'd broken into the base with. The Agent was left feeling hollow. Not only had he allowed the Galactic Patrol Prison to be breached, he'd failed to stop the unsanctioned execution of one of their own prisoners. What sort of Agent am I? He wondered. What sort of— Words cut through Merus' thoughts like a knife.

"Captain, what do we do? " asked a lower ranked officer. "Inform HQ?"

Merus shook his head. "I've already had word sent to them. No, I'm going to report to the Galactic King. We're in a crisis."

Seventh Universe, Outer Space

A spaceship tore across the vacuum of space. It was a round pod, room inside only a single occupant. Within rested the woman who had fought with Merus, her hands above a holoscreen that served as both navigation and controls.

Did you make it out safely, my child?

A voice filled her head, echoing in every corner. Typically, telepathy was considered intrusive by civilised species. She was used to this, however. The voice, after all, belonged to her Mistress.

Without being delayed at all, my Lady, the shinobi-like woman replied through her thoughts. Though I regret to say if he'd tried to go all out, you'd be fishing me from the Enma Realm right now.

What's important is you are in one piece, and our goal was successful. Moro has been Destroyed.

There was something in the way her Mistress spoke that last word that made the woman shiver. Not in fear. No, everyone in their group held their Mistress on a pedestal, even if they themselves never got along. I'm honoured, my Lady, that you would have chosen me! I thought for sure Daikon—

He is off attending to other matters. I need him to observe. And do not second guess yourself. I chose you because I believed in your power.

T-Thank you! But what do we do now? The Saiyan God—

–made your brother Cell pay for his recklessness. A pause. Worry not. The Super Saiyan God will find himself occupied by something outside the scope of my influence. An Outlander from beyond our Universe and beyond our timeline is making his way here. Be it a timeline where I was never reared...or perhaps one where I died...Son Gohan will soon find himself beset by the man he never wished to fight.

And what of us?

You may rest. I will call for you all again...when it is time for the Gathering.

Mental communication was cut short, and the woman found herself in silence. She had received praise and instructions in short order. Grinning beneath her mask, she exhaled slowly.

How she awaited the Gathering.

A/N: This was a chapter I was very excited to write, to the point that I had it pre-written before Pokemon: Legends Arceus came out, because I knew I wasn't going to get any writing done then. Couple that to coming down with what I certainly hope was a brief bout of flu, and my foresight never ceases to amaze me. This chapter, actually, was never meant to exist. But the latest arc of Super introduced a little bit of a cog in my plans: Moro, and the fact that I more or less have to account for his existing. A lot of fanfics would handwave it away, either not wanting to address Moro, or something. And initially, I planned on this as well. But given I do know my woman's end goal, Moro was an obstacle that needed to be removed. I was going to allude to a FANTASTIC battle in the series' final chapter where Gohan dealt with Moro offscreen but this feels more satisfying. And this chapter isn't to disrespect Moro. I actually rather liked him - ESPECIALLY with the Granola arc and how bad it is. But what's done is done, and I do love my set-up chapters. So I hope you all enjoyed this brief little showcase! I always love showing off a new character too. Tale of the Sky Maiden is underway, and it'll be time for the Heart of Adventurers after that! And then, I'll see you all in the next exciting chapter of the Erased Chronicles!