Author's note: Hey, guys, thanks for the reads, & the reviews. I love getting those alerts. Please feel free to keep them coming, & let me know your thoughts as the story progresses.

Written by: SparkerLightning & StevenBodner

Chapter 47

Kami's Lookout

The world stood still. Leaves submitted to the pull of gravity. No wind rustled them. Birds gazed out from their branches. As if they understood the announcement themselves. All conversation stopped. Ears opened as mouths closed. Mouth dried as eyes moistened. Bulma was home. Mission accomplished.

Moments later, the wind rustled the leaves. The leaves tickled the birds. The birds sang, and Dr. Brief and Panchy led the charge towards their daughter.

Panchy reached her daughter first, monopolizing her hug. She wrapped her arms around Bulma's shoulders and neck, held her head tight to her chest.

"Bulma. Bulma. Bulma." She breathed heavily as she rocked her little girl from side to side, a familiar, soothing, motion, for her own benefit.

Dr. Brief reached the pair next, wrapping his arms around them both. He didn't speak, he just lived in the moment. His family was whole once more. His wife, the spark that lit the blazing trail his life has led so far, and his youngest daughter, the air that fueled his every action.

Earth wasn't safe, not for them, but here, on Kami's Lookout, they were safe, and that's what mattered. Their friends, their protectors, their literal former god and devil, stood a few paces away, but here, now, they were alone. A broken family, a shattered home, kept apart by unimaginable distances, insurmountable power, and, and they were back together, reunited, whole.

Panchy pulled away first, revealing a sobbing Bulma. Dark circles stood out against her pale skin under her eyes. Her hair was as much grease as keratin. A thick string of snot connected Bulma's nose to her mother's chest. She was a mess, but she was their mess.

"You're..." Panchy began to speak. "We thought..."

She shook her head. "Never..."

She took in the young woman in front of her. Words failed, actions spoke, and she pulled her daughter tight once more.

"Mom."

Dr. Brief tightened his grip, and Bulma adjusted her arm to hold both of her parents.

"Dad."

Bulma swiped her face across her mother's blouse, pulling back a much cleaner nose. She saw her mother first. They shared their bruised eyes, but that was the extent of their shared changes. Fine lines creased the mother's face, and gray hairs frizzed out from her scalp. Looking to her right her father wasn't fairing much better. His jacket felt nearly empty under her arm. He was thin, too thin.

"I'm home." She beamed at them both. Her vision blurred as fresh tears replaced the ones on Panchy's shirt. She blinked them away, winning a second of clarity. She looked down at herself, her robe, her blue suit, her gloves, boots, and robe. Time hadn't been kind to her parents, and life had been just as bad to her.

As the family breathed each other in, as they pinched themselves and as they thanked the gods above, the world around them came back into being. Gohan had stepped away, moving to be next to his mother and grandfather, with a Saiyan, almost certainly Raditz, standing not too far away from the family. On the other side of Raditz was Roshi, accompanied by two new faces to Bulma. Piccolo was next to an alien, pink, tall, and slender, probably Loa, and beside them, a man coughed.

Yamcha took advantage of the small break in physical isolation and stepped forward. He opened his arms to his girlfriend, his life partner… Bulma didn't move. She saw him, she avoided his eyes, and… she was gone for years, how could she hold it against him… how could she know… she couldn't…

He pressed through the thick moment. "Welcome home, babe."

He beamed at Bulma as he put his hand on her shoulder. He tried to spin her, guiding, not forcing. She flinched under his grip. She winced under his gaze. She pulled away, and he was confused. He held his hand out, where her shoulder had been, but now inches away from physical contact.

The stranger, the alien, shook his head, frowning at Yamcha.

"Bulma, what's wrong?" Yamcha tried to blink tears into existence, but failed. This was his partner, his soul mate, his Bulma. And she rejected him. He should be torn up. He should be hurting. But, he wasn't, he couldn't. No, he'd moved on ages ago, but they couldn't know that. They couldn't know that, as it would destroy his reputation. He didn't wait for her, he didn't have faith. He, he was happy being alone, and while he wanted her home, he was okay without her, and they couldn't know that. He couldn't let them find out. Why couldn't he cry?

Bulma released her mother for a moment, spinning around her father, moving to use her parents as a shield between herself and the man she thought to be a hungry wolf, that made her feel like a piece of meat. Jeice was there, at her side, hand protectively on her shoulder. Her parents looked at each other, rather confused, but almost catching on.

"Mom, Dad... Yamcha." She did not look at the last one.

"Guys." She swept her eyes around the groups of friends and family. "This, is Jeice."

She stepped back from her parents, working her way under Jeice's arm, and wrapping one of hers around his waist. "He is my part... boyfriend."

"Boy… friend?" Yamcha's brows shot up. "Boyfriend?"

"Oh, how marvelous." Dr. Brief beamed at his daughter, his wife, and finally, his potential future son-in-law. He extended a hand towards the alien. "How rude of us. I am Dr. Brief, Bulma's father."

He put his free hand on Panchy's shoulder, turning her to face the newcomer, turning both their backs to Yamcha. "This is my wonderful wife, Panchy, Bulma's mother."

Panchy hollowly smiled, briefly glancing behind her at the man who had been with her daughter for years. She nodded at Jeice and the nervous Bulma. "It's nice to meet you."

Jeice took Dr. Brief's hand in his own. Handshakes weren't a thing where he was from, in the empire, but Bulma had told many stories of her time on Earth, and this custom was a common one.

"It's nice to meet you." He smiled at her father and at her mother. He disregarded Yamcha, until he spoke up.

"Oh." His shoulders sagged. "I'm happy for you. I wish you two the best."

"Thanks, Yamcha." Bulma said sincerely. "I'm sorry things worked out like this." She looked into his scar.

"Hey, don't worry about it." He turned around and lifted his hands into the air, palms up, almost coming across as exacerbated. "You're quite a catch. I should have assumed."

He walked towards Piccolo and Loa, before peeling off to be by himself.

"Jeice." Dr. Brief caught the alien's eyes. "Did you help keep our Bulma safe?"

Jeice opened his mouth, but caught a sharp finger to the ribs before he could answer.

"Yes, he did." Bulma answered for him. "If it weren't for him, I never would have survived under Lord Frieza or Lord Cooler."

She shook her head, catching Chi-Chi approaching while doing so.

As Dr. Brief and Panchy thanked Jeice, Bulma turned to face the approaching woman. Her parents were disheveled, exhausted, and worn to the bone, Chi-Chi wasn't much better. While she seemed to be in good physical shape, the time away from Goku was showing. Her hair wasn't being maintained, and her welcoming smile didn't reach her eyes.

Chi-Chi opened her arms, offering a hug to her old friend. Bulma shook her head, and Chi-Chi respectfully lowered her arms. She went to introduce herself to Jeice, but he had been caught in conversation by Bulma's parents.

"Welcome home." Chi-Chi stopped several paces away from the scientist. It was unnatural, but something seemed off with the woman, and she felt that if she stepped much closer Bulma may make a run for it.

"Thanks, Chi-Chi." Bulma's smile didn't reach her ears either. "It's nice to be back on Earth."

She looked around, remembering where she was. "Or, over the Earth. You know what I mean."

"It's good to have you back." Chi-Chi eyed Jeice up and down. "Good catch?"

Bulma's face reddened, not quite reaching Jeice's tone.

"Very." Is all she would say to that.

Chi-Chi took a deep breath.

"I couldn't help but notice… you're not with the others." Chi-Chi asked as Bulma shook her head, agreeing with the observation. "Where's Goku?

Bulma swallowed the apple that formed in her throat.

"He's, still out there." She looked into the sky. The sun was in front of her, so she looked to the side, past the light blue, past the blockade, the void, the stars, and into Capsule Cosmos. She had no idea where they were, or if they were still alive. Hopefully Cold will have found them, blown them out of the sky, and moved on to his next point of interest.

"He and the others saved me. They killed Lord Frieza, and King Cold, his father, has sworn revenge. Goku and the others have gone to meet him, to keep him away from Earth."

Chi-Chi's shoulder sagged and she let out a sigh.

"That's my Goku. There's always a bigger fish, and he's going to be the one to catch it." She looked towards her son, and he took the glance as a request to approach.

Gohan stood beside his mother, still far shorter than her, but looking much larger. His back was straight, his eyes were focused, and he carried a presence that not even his father could duplicate. "Dad's still out there?"

"Yeah." Bulma returned her gaze to the sky. "He's going after Lord Frieza's dad. They're going to try to take him down, so he can't continue ruling his empire."

Gohan followed her gaze. Distantly, he could feel the power levels of the blockading force, far overhead. Due to the distance and the lack of familiarity with them, he could barely tell one from the next, but they were there, a cloud of energy stretching over the entire planet. "And the others are going with him?"

"That's right. I didn't spend much time with them between getting with them and leaving with Jeice, but." She pondered her words. "Turles is just like I remembered him. I think they mentioned he was working on the Kaio-Ken. And Nappa, he's really strong. He's a Super Saiyan, like your father. And come to think of it, like you as well."

Gohan smiled at that. Another Super Saiyan. Another good guy, who wasn't afraid to do what was necessary, with the power to make a difference. He loved his father, he even respected his father, but he knew his father was too kind, and didn't always have what it would take to finish a fight. Nappa though, and Turles too, they were warriors, they were good people, and they were still able to kill. Between the two of them, they should be able to keep his father safe.

"And Krillin? Chiaotzu?" Master Roshi asked as he approached, the pair of strangers staying behind him. A large man, similar in build to Tien, but with far more hair, fluffed up into a thick afro, was to Roshi's left. Behind the afro man, was a girl, no older than Gohan, but far more innocent. She was roughly his height, but without the posture that proclaimed him mature beyond his years, she was clearly a little girl.

"Chiaotzu is good." Bulma answered. The girl eyed her, and she put her hands defensively behind her back. "In the fight with Frieza, he… I don't know if he actually hurt Frieza at all, but he was right there alongside Goku and Nappa, shielding them, and distracting Frieza."

Roshi noticed how Bulma's voice weakened as she mentioned Frieza. That was new, earlier, when she called him lord, her voice was steady. Additionally, she pulled her hands tight to her body, and looked down. He didn't know what happened in space, but it was clear to him that Bulma had become a willing subject of Frieza, or at least that she had grown accustomed to her life under him.

"And Krillin? Where was he in the fight? I didn't train any cowards, but then again, I didn't train any suicidal tenancies into my students, did I?" He looked at the large man, who chuckled and shook his head in response.

"Krillin?" Bulma looked towards the hermit, stroking her cheeks to her chin with one gloved hand. "He was there, during the fight. But the technology used to keep him and the others restrained didn't deactivate properly, so he wasn't able to get involved in the fight. And based on what you just said, I don't know if he would have if he could have."

She blinked, and the girl vanished from beside Roshi. "Frieza was on a far higher level than the others, and if technology didn't step in, well, it was a suicidal fight."

"Technology?" Roshi stroked his beard, almost mimicking Bulma's gesture. "If Frieza was that strong, how strong is his father? I don't suppose this will be an easy victory for the boys?"

"He's, it's, it's not going to be easy, no." Bulma felt a gentle tug on her sleeve. She thought it may be the wind. "Honestly, I don't know how they're going to..."

Her glove was being pulled down. Bulma spun, slapping at whatever was on her arm, whoever was trying to reveal her skin.

Videl stood there, frozen. A red palm print blazing on her cheek. Tears welled up, but were quickly blinked away. She opened her mouth to speak, looked towards her father, and back up at the angry, no, concerned, no, upset, woman. She brought her hand up, rubbing her face. It stung, but it didn't hurt.

Bulma twisted as she sank to her knee. She gently wrapped her hand around the girl's wrist.

"Honey, I'm so sorry." She tried to guide the hand away. "Can I see that? Are you okay?"

Videl nodded as she lowered her hand to her side. As Bulma inspected her face, she also pulled her glove back up her arm. Once the woman was satisfied, she dropped her wrist and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, honey." She apologized again. "You startled me. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Roshi tapped his staff on the tile floor. "A little pain never hurt anyone." He chuckled at the inaccurate statement.

Bulma turned to yell at the old man. Hitting a child was never okay, but she was stopped by the large man appearing between her and him. Hercule was on his knee beside the girl, in front of Bulma. He had taken each of her shoulders in his hands.

"Videl, what was that about?" He asked his daughter.

"The material, Dad." Videl sagged. "It looked, weird. I wondered what it felt like. It's really stretchy."

Hercule shook his head. "Videl, honey, you can't just touch people. You need to ask their permission first."

He stood up, spinning Videl to face Bulma and bowed his head. "I'm sorry, ma'am. She's still young, and despite her training, kids will be kids." He squeezed Videl's shoulders until she got the hint.

Videl bowed her head. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to scare you."

Bulma blushed, taking a step back, bumping into Jeice.

"Oh, no, it's okay, guys." She held up her hands, one of which still held a piece of paper. "It's fine, really."

She looked for a distraction. A change of subject. Something that wasn't her, her body, or the things hiding her body.

"Oh, by the way, let me introduce my pupils." Roshi spoke and Bulma did not hear. "This young man is Mark, Mark Hercule, and his daughter, Videl. I tell you what, these two have quite a bit of..."

Bulma opened the paper in her hands. The paper she found in the alley, that in hindsight, was all over the town. When she opened it up, she looked at herself. It was an old picture, taken from her last yearbook from school. Her name was printed above her face, with the Capsule Corp logo printed right beside it.

"Wanted, Dead or Alive

Know where she is? Call us. 3383-33224-35

Rewards offered

Tip leading to her verifiable death: 2,500,000 Zeni

Tip leading to her capture: 5,000,000 Zeni

Verifiable proof of her death: 7,500,000 Zeni.

Captured alive: 10,000,000 Zeni."

She read the flier, and slowly the surrounding conversations dropped off around her. Roshi was the last to catch on, being engrossed in a story of condiments.

"What?" Jeice asked over her shoulder. He put one hand on her waist as he read the flier for himself. "You have a bounty?"

He looked at his partner in a new light. "And I thought you were on the up and up." He gave her a dark, sarcastic, grin.

"I am!" Bulma bit the words at him. "I have no idea what this is about."

"I can explain that." Her father said. "That's actually the reason we're up here."

"Because someone is after me?" Bulma folded the paper back up and put it in her robe's pocket.

"No, because they're after us." He pointed a finger to the sky. He was tempted just to raise the middle one, but decided to be a little more polite in case they were able to see him. "They're after you, Goku, a tan Goku, Turles that is, Krillin, Nappa, and Chiaotzu. You're the main targets, but because of how close we all are to you, and the others, we've become targets as well. They figure, if they can catch me, that you would come out of hiding, or if they could capture Roshi, then Krillin would come out of hiding. There are people after Tien's old associates as well, but when they heard Roshi would be here, they decided to take their chances down below."

"Who are they? You keep saying they. Who is that?" Bulma demanded. She knew the answer. If they were after her, well, what has she ever done? But they're after everyone that went to space, and the only people that knew they went to space were either standing near her, or still in space.

Dr. Brief tilted his head skyward. "They're the ones looking for you. They've been playing a message on repeat, from King Cold. It took Earth a while to figure out who he was talking about, but when it went public, the bounties came out. People want to hand you guys, us all, to the aliens, in exchange for salvation."

Bulma's stomach sank. Did they know she escaped? Or was this just a precaution they took in case they showed up on Earth? Take away safe harbor, force everyone onto the run. They couldn't run though, not with their loved ones in danger… but that was they're intent.

"We received the message too, shortly before separating from the group." Jeice felt a tingle go down his spine. "How long ago did the ships arrive?"

Dr. Brief took a moment to respond. "About ten months, give or take. It hasn't been easy, and it was hard to recall what I tried to block out. They started showing up one at a time, at first. We detected them hours before they arrived, and the first time the alarm was raised, we gathered the forces. Gohan, Piccolo, Loa, and Raditz. But the ship altered course, they began to orbit, 300 miles up. The second ship joined them, and by the fifth, we stopped preparing for battle."

Dr. Brief took a hollow breath. "The message had already been playing for some time by then, but no one took it seriously. I mean, aliens didn't exist, right? Yeah, there was that stuff with King Piccolo, but he was a demon, not an alien, at least as far as the public was aware. Then there were those aliens that attacked East City, but they were humans, right? I mean, they looked humans, except for their tails. They were probably just extremists, like the Red Ribbon Army."

He swept his sleeve over his forehead. "Well, we couldn't keep them under wraps forever. Someone outside of our main circle, outside of the world's government's main circle, found out about the ships. When they knew what to look for, civilians were able to see the ships through mass produced telescopes."

He twitched his left hand, almost forming a fist. "The word was out, alien life was confirmed across the world. The message was real. We were in danger. Threatened by a far more advanced civilization."

Dr. Brief was having a hard time talking about this madness. "King Furry came to us. He commissioned weapons, armor, and vehicles. It took two weeks to convert the arm designed for Tien into a functional blaster. It took four weeks to reverse engineer Raditz's armor. It took six months to equip the military with modular blasters and armor capable of absorbing their shots. The blasters shot at a level equal to a warrior of power level 1,500. The first wave of modifications brought that up to 3,500, and increased storage capacity. The second wave bumped it down to 3,000, but made them nearly endless in capacity, but limited them to one shot per five seconds. A few generations later, a few breakthroughs later, and they're up to 15,000, with 3 shots per second. The capacity isn't the best, but you'll get more shots than out of a conventional weapon, and with a lot more stopping power, too. Fortunately, the armor can draw from the same power supply, and feed to it as well, sort of."

"It doesn't work nearly as well as we'd like, but right now, if a soldier takes a hit to the armor, and the knock back doesn't kill them, they'll find about 10% of that energy was pushed into their weapon."

He shook his head. "It's incredible what we were able to do based on the old Red Ribbon Army designs … but it's not enough, not even close."

He smiled up to the swarm of ships circling just out of sight. "It doesn't matter if our soldiers can put out lethal power, and can withstand far more punishment than they should be capable of. One warrior, that's all it will take to rip through Earth's army. The grunts will be stopped, but even someone like Roshi, or his students, could evade the shots long enough to put down an entire platoon of Earth soldiers."

"But King Furry wanted to upgrade the army, so we did." Dr. Brief shrugged. "Little good it did though. When the technology was revealed to the public, the public did not approve. They didn't see it as Earth technology, as Earth science, as Earth power. Conspiracies ran wild, and the masses were convinced that the aliens had taken over the world's government."

"Mobs formed, moving on any government facility. At first the armies held their lines, but the people just kept coming. Instead of letting bodies pile up on the line in the sand, they eventually fell back to key strategic positions, including Capsule Corp. That's when people put it together, that the Bulma they were talking about, was our daughter, was you. That's when the bounties were placed, on you, on everyone that went to space, and anyone connected to them."

"When they moved on Capsule Corp, the army was going to surrender the location, rush your mother and I to safety. Thankfully, Gohan interfered though. As we were running through the escape tunnel, to a military train on West City subway tracks, he appeared and grabbed us, and took us up here. His mother and grandfather were already here, and shortly after bringing us, he tracked down Roshi as well. With his help, Hercule and Videl were rescued too."

"And that's about all that's happened for us since the message started playing. Eventually, down below, the riots stopped, and the world grew used to the threat overhead. The people had reached a consensus, they'd be fine as long as they could give them us. Well, schools reopened, transportation routes were reopened, and supply chains got back up to speed. Life was mostly normal, for most people. There were still hunts, every false spotting of any of us would bring a mob charging, but aside from that, life went on."

"So, what's the plan now?" Bulma asked. "I assume it's not just to live out the rest of our days up here?"

Piccolo stepped forward, Loa at her side.

"The plan was to wait for you and the others to get home." He said, arms crossed. "Once we were a united force, we would spread out and provoke them into attacking. With three or four warriors, we wouldn't be able to spread out enough to cover enough population centers, but with ten of us, we could condense the civilians enough that we should have been able to protect them."

"But without the others..." Bulma trailed off.

"Gohan, Loa, Raditz, and I could probably do what's necessary. I doubt they could overpower us individually, let alone as a group. But while we're fighting in one, or four, locations, their men would be overrunning everywhere else. Without Goku, Turles, Nappa, Krillin, and Chiaotzu, I don't know how we're going to keep everyone else safe when they finally attack."

"If they attack." Bulma said. "They may not, once King Cold meets up with everyone else..."

"If King Cold wins, then they'll move on the Earth. He said as much in his message." Loa spoke for the first time.

"And if King Cold loses, well, we doubt he's the type to NOT have his men lash out and destroy the Earth in retaliation. Sure, if the others win, they could help in the fight, but it would be long over by the time they reach Earth. We'd survive, but I don't know about everyone else, down there." Piccolo turned sideways, focusing on the unobstructed horizon.

"So if they're going to attack either way, and we're stuck with who we have now, what do we do?" Bulma pushed each hand into her other arms sleeve, further withdrawing.

"We keep doing what we have been." Piccolo looked towards Dr. Brief, who pulled out a capsule case.

Not bothering to check which capsule he took, Dr. Brief extracted one from the case. He activated the capsule as he threw it off to his side, towards the center of the Lookout. In a puff of smoke, the capsule disappeared, and a cylindrical chamber appeared. A display next to the door was lit up, showing a red number "1".

"We train." Piccolo continued. "It's what we've been doing since we retreated here, and it's what we're going to keep doing, until we run out of time."

"And when we run out of time?" Bulma asked, approaching the chamber. It was similar to the one in Capsule Cosmos, but clearly not made for travel. It was just a chamber, not a ship.

Raditz stepped up beside Bulma, seemingly appearing from nowhere.

"We fight." His tail flicked. "To the last man, we fight." He touched the chamber, slowly running his fingers down the seam of the door. "They may destroy every city, every town, and every village. They may burn the forests to the ground, poison the oceans, and flatten mountains. They may come, but they will die. We protect those we can, those who are willing to be protected. We maintain enough people, enough technology, enough food, water, and enough reasons to live. And when we repel the attack, when we put the last invader to death, we rebuild."

"How many people would survive?" Bulma chewed her lip, not looking up at Raditz.

"Who knows?" Raditz shrugged. "More than if we didn't act, but less than we would hope. We're thinking a few tens of thousands. Each fighter responsible for, hopefully, ten thousand humans. They should be able to condense their area enough that one person could completely defend them. But anyone not protected, they'd be on their own."

"No, they won't." Dr. Brief spoke up, challenge in his voice. "The military has gone into hiding, but they're still out there. When push comes to shove, they'll be back. They'll defend those who can't defend themselves."

"They'll die." Raditz turned on the old man. "One shot, one kill. That is true. But anyone beyond the absolute lowest grunts would have no issue avoiding your blasters shots, and targeting the non-armored portions of the soldiers."

He shook his head. "No, if they resist, it will be a blood bath."

"They're better than unarmed civilians." Dr. Brief argued. "They may not be on your level, but..."

"We put them to work." Loa said. "Have them assist our efforts. Have them hold as much of the line as possible around our protected areas. They won't be able to do much, spread out, but as a group they may be able to overpower Cold's attack groups. And, every enemy they kill, is one we won't have to worry about."

Raditz scoffed, and Jeice took the dismissive noise as his opportunity to contribute.

"I can help." He looked around, slowly inspecting the Earth's warriors. "I'm not at your level, yet, but I can fight. I've never defended an area before, but I'm capable."

Bulma turned to him. Pulling her hands out of her sleeves, she grabbed one of his in hers. "Jeice..."

"Bulma." He threatened to make eye contact with her, and she stood down.

"Good." Piccolo grinned. He looked at the gravity chamber, Raditz was still close. "Raditz, take Jeice into the chamber. See what he's like."

He turned back to the Briefs. "We need to reconsider our defensive points. Five, maybe six if we let the Earth government handle one on their own, which I don't see a reason not to."

"Of course." Dr. Brief nodded. "I'll get my computer."

And with that, he was off to the palace, his wife choosing to stay behind. She wasn't talking to anyone, but she was present. She was with her daughter, and that's all she ever wanted.

Many centuries ago

Deep in interstellar space, roughly six light years from any star, a planet floated through the void. The eternally dark skies had lit up moments ago, as if a dead sun had risen once more. At the source of the near cosmic level of activity stood two men, and bowed a third.

King Cold touched his forehead to the bare, virgin dirt. The soil was hot, slightly humid. Both the act of submitting, and the presence of exposed ground, were unusual to the tyrant. As far as he could remember, the ice had never given way before, not while he trained, not while he fought, and not while he overthrew his father. And, while his father demanded respect, demanded obedience, he had never demanded, would never allow, the then-prince to kneel, let alone bow.

But this was not his father in front of him. Nor was this an Arcosian. No, this was a god, this was the god that he had been told bedtime stories of. The god that had haunted his nightmares. The god in the closet, under the bed, and in every unlit mirror. This was Beerus, Beerus the Destroyer, Beerus the Unforgiving, Beerus the Insatiable.

"Forgive me, Lord." King Cold looked up to the god's feet, before lowering his gaze once more. "Beerus, sir, I did not recognize you."

His polished horns lost their luster as they plowed short trenches into the dead soil. He fought the instinct to sharply exhale as his nose touched the tip of Beerus' foot. He would not allow his body to potentially offend him, the only person, the only being, worthy of their respect.

"What do you think, Whis?" The cat kept his eyes burrowing through Cold's skull. If he wasn't lucky, he may blink, and the turn of phrase would become literal.

"He did apologize, my lord." The attendant smiled dismissively. His body was here, but his mind may have been a billion light years away for all the interest he was paying.

"But he also broke the agreement." Beerus turned to face Whis, disregarding the inferior being.

"Perhaps, my lord, we should ask him if he's aware of the agreement?" Whis smiled upon Cold. The humbled king did not see the blessing, but he felt it.

Beerus let out a shallow growl as he spotted a speck of dust on his robes. "And he dirtied my clothes."

Whis adjusted his staff from one hand to his other. As he passed it in front of Beerus, his merely pristine clothes were refreshed.

"I made that robe myself." The attendant said, almost sounding frustrated with the deity, the devil. "He couldn't hope to deface them, let alone damage them. That muck was from your, display, not from him."

The information hung in the air, until Whis filled it himself. "Also, this planet's surface has been frozen, a single sheet of unbroken ice, ever since it left its solar system. There wasn't exposed dirt until your display."

Beerus narrowed his eyes as he scanned the area around them. They stood in the center of a several mile wide patch of ground. The melted ice had already risen, formed clouds, and was returning to the planet. In the distance a wall of cracked ice rose around them, forming a natural arena, the ice that didn't melt shot outward, and clustered at the edge of his power.

"And, my lord, you know who his father is. What is it you said about him again?" Smug, the attendant seemed smug when addressing the beast.

"An insignificant ignoramus, with the intelligence of an isopod, the wisdom of a walrus, and the charisma of a crustation."

"I thought there was something in there about constitution?" Whis smiled innocently at Beerus.

"The strength of a slug, the dexterity of a slug, and the constitution of… a slug." Beerus scoffed as he turned his back to his attendant as well.

Behind the Destroyer's back. Whis winked at Cold. Again, Cold did not see the gesture, but he felt warmth, hope, wash over him.

"That's it." The attendant turned to follow Beerus's distant gaze. "I prefer the lack of alliteration, but I feel it's not quite as creative."

"Enough, Whis." Beerus rose slightly off the ground. He rotated in the air, lording over his subject. "Your father was weak, stupid, and lead a pointless life. The only worthwhile thing he had ever done..."

King Cold lifted his eyes above his feet, above his shins, and dared to look above his knees as well.

"NO!" Beerus barked. "It's not you. You'll likely be no more than he was. And even if you were, you'd still be the same. No, what your father did, was make me an offer, gave me an offering, and showed that he has value. Tell me, Cold, do you have the same value as your father? Or should I just destroy this worthless mud ball now?"

Cold's eyes were firmly on the toes of Beerus' boots. "My lord, I have more value than my father ever could. I do not know what he offered you, but whatever it was, I will offer double."

The light from a distant star twinkled off of Beerus' eye. The same light reflected off of the now heavily falling snow. For a moment, a soft breeze stirred the crystals between the king and the god. "Your father, your father's father, and his father before him… for as long as your people have thrived, for as long as I have allowed you to thrive, you have offered me tribute. You, descendants of the one named Chilled, have one thing of value, and that is all I will accept as tribute."

Cold almost looked up, catching himself as the hem of Beerus's robe came into view.

Beerus bent at the waist, bringing his head directly over Cold's. "You, your people, call it a snow cone, likely named after a distant ancestor whose pyramid came out a little too rounded. I'll choose to trust that you know what I'm talking about?"

Cold blinked twice, his mind frozen over. "A snow cone?"

He expected planets, people, or profit. He expected women, girls, or maybe even boys. He expected to regret this deal with a demon, and he was very satisfied. "Of course, my lord. I will have our finest snow cones prepared at once, in every flavor physically possible."

Beerus straightened his back, now smiling at the sprawled king.

"Excellent." He licked his lips. "I will take all you can offer now, and will return when I am ready for more. You will have my snow cones available immediately. I do not wait for my desert. The lack of preparedness will only be forgiven this once, as I know what kind of handicap you started life with, with that father of yours."

"Thank you, my lord, thank you." Cold continued to dig his horns into the dirt as he touched his forehead to the ground.

"GO!" Beerus barked, as he turned his back to Cold. "Thirty minutes, and if I'm not satisfied, your planet is mine, and I am not known for taking good care of my toys."

With that, Cold was gone. It took fifteen minutes for him to gather the top chefs of his home world. It took another ten minutes of combined effort, between him and all subjects within reach of his influence, to gather the finest ingredients currently available. Another four minutes passed as they made the syrup, fluffed the ice, and prepared the finest cone they could muster, the polished horn of the prematurely deceased heir, Princess Snow, herself.

Beerus slowly ate the refreshing treat. It had been refilled dozens of times, with a new flavor each round, but finally he stood, satisfied. As he pushed his chair, Cold's throne, back, the surrounding staff pushed the doors to the hall open, retreating. Their worry was misplaced however, as Beerus agreed to keep the frostbitten planet as it was, so long as they kept him supplied with snow cones.

As Beerus exited the great hall, choosing to stand upon the highest balcony in the palace, Whis approached Cold. Fishing through his pockets he eventually produced a thick golden disk, handing it to the young king.

"Thank you, sir." Cold bowed his head.

"No, thank you." Whis cheerily smiled. "Because of your generosity, I won't need to find a replacement dessert for my lord."

Cold nodded humbly, not sure what to say to the attendant.

"This is a communicator. I will warn you when we head this direction." He looked towards his pupil. "There may not be much though, so you'd be smart to have the snow cones ready at all times."

The attendant had blessed him. He was granted a boon. He was now a slave to a deity, but the attendant blessed him.

"Thank you, divine being." He bowed his head once more.

"Again, thank you." Whis turned his back. "Also, that's not just for your benefit… Beerus will expect notice whenever a new flavor is invented, just so you are aware."

Author's note: Unless plans change, next week will be a doozy ...