Pure darkness blankets Turles' vision as the light from the cave entrance disappears with nothing ahead to replace it. He compromises between haste and balance as he takes each step blind.
His shoulder scrapes against the stone wall. He bounces from it, almost losing his footing. His hands explore the dark, and he realizes the stairs are curving upward instead of remaining in a straight ascent.
He jogs off again with his fingertips tracing the wall to avoid losing track of it again. So far this is the easiest challenge yet in Hell.
Eventually a soft, golden light trickles down to him as the darkness gives way to gray. Now able to see a bit, he quickens his pace.
The light gets brighter. As he comes around another large curve, he sees the golden clouds separating Hell from the world above. He plunges into them.
Sight becomes impossible again as the yellow haze takes over. The luminous air hurts his eyes, so he closes them. He notices the texture his fingers touch turn from stone to wood as he travels.
The dampness on his face disappears. He opens his eyes and finds he has escaped the veil. The stairs come to an end, leaving him in a dark hallway. Faint light shimmers in from a crack in the wall ahead of him. He approaches the slit more than twice his size. Voices on the other side make him wary.
He peeks out from the hiding place and finds a giant desk with an even bigger ogre sitting at it. His intimidating red skin clashes with his regal purple suit. This must be the King Yemma the group told him about.
The ogre writes furiously in a book as a line of souls approach his desk one at a time. Turles sinks back into the shadows and waits for an opportune moment to get to the book.
Hours pass, and Turles droops in and out of a nap. A loud scrape shreds the sleepiness away. He sees King Yemma standing and stretching. He pushes his chair back into place with another screech. With a yawn and booming steps, he walks away.
A blue ogre in a white shirt and tie about Turles' height walks up to the chair. He shimmies up one leg to get in the seat. From there, he boosts himself onto the arm and steps atop the desk.
When the big footsteps fall quiet, Turles slides out of the crack in the wall. He cuts in front of the line and looks up at the replacement ogre.
"Excuse me sir," says the ogre. "You have to wait your turn to be properly registered. Wait … why do you still have a body? And no halo? Who are you?"
"The name is Turles, but you won't find me in those books of yours."
"I've been doing this for a long time, and no one has been unlisted in these pages."
He starts flipping through the papers. Turles floats up to observe him. Two giant books as big as the ogre himself rest there. One is closed with a green cover. The other has a black cover. Each page is full of names alongside a picture.
"Well you certainly aren't dead," says the ogre, closing the book he riffles through. "But I suppose the lack of a halo proved that much. Hmm…"
The ogre switches to the green book. After turning a few pages, he looks at Turles with shock.
"You're right. You're not in the Book of the Living either. How fascinating."
"How can you be so sure?" says Turles, an uneasy pit in his stomach. "If everyone is really listed in one or the other, that could leave you searching for days."
"Not at all. I simply think of the person's name and turn the page and it should appear. It's magically archived."
"Why don't you try looking up Kakarot instead and see what it says."
"Ah yes perhaps Turles wasn't your original name. That can happen from time to time."
Turles waits with mounting anticipation as the ogre turns a few more pages. The ogre points to a picture and speaks.
"Yes, here it is. This looks just like you. Except…"
"Except what?"
"The new name isn't Turles, it's Goku."
The sound of the name infuriates Turles. The anger is short lived as a realization washes it away. He cannot escape the questions echoing in his mind.
If I'm not in either book, do I even exist? If I die will I simply cease to be?
Turles shakes his head to clear the creeping dread. He desires more answers and decides on a different approach.
"So if I'm not in either book," he says with a cocky attitude, "then I must be immortal."
"No, that can't be right," says the ogre. He thinks for a moment.
"Then what else could it be? It's the only thing that makes sense."
"I've heard of entries being removed but only in the most anomalous of cases."
"Is that so," says Turles. His voice sounds cold and annoyed. "So what happens if those entries are damaged or destroyed? Should I be worried about the obvious negligence here?"
The ogre flusters.
"I can assure you there is no negligence in our operation. A lack of communication perhaps, but certainly not negligence."
"Call it whatever you want, but I have a right to know. If my entry is somewhere else, could I be harmed in any way? I've heard damaging them can have consequences."
The ogre sighs.
"Very well. If an entry of either book is desecrated, it will result in a reversal of the current owner's life or death status."
"Thanks for the uplifting news. So what are you going to do about it?"
"I'm not sure what to do with you now. Hang on, let me get a hold of my superior."
Turles smashes his fist against the ogre's head. The victim falls to the desk unconscious.
"That's alright. You've confirmed all I need to know. I'll take it from here."
He stares at the picture of a smiling Goku. He spits on it. He raises his hand. Ki swells in his palm.
"I'd rather kill you in person!"
The energy expands. He holds it for a moment. It dies away.
What if I'm somehow linked to him? he thinks.
He kneels and lifts the page. He stabs the paper with one finger edged by ki. He traces the picture and name until it falls free as a sheet of paper. He folds it up and stuffs it in the collar of his armor.
This might be useful later, he thinks.
He grabs a giant calligraphy brush from a jar of ink and kicks open the black book. He thinks of Daizu's name before turning the page. He slashes the bristles across the picture and text to blot it out. He repeats the process for his other allies.
"I hope that worked."
He searches through the Book of the Living for them. His smile widens as he finds each one. He cuts them all from the pages and looks at their pictures.
Cackling echoes from the hole he entered through. He watches shapes emerge from its dark depths. He did not even need their pictures to guess who they are after all their stories.
A huge muscular man with reddish orange skin steps out first. He wears a prison uniform consisting of a loose fitting shirt and pants. Horizontal stripes of alternating orange and white run from shoulder to ankle.
"Turles, my man, you did it," he says.
"Amondo, free again," says Turles.
"Back in the flesh baby. Thank you."
Next comes a pair of identical twins. They are short with amethyst colored skin. They wear white lab coats with black pants, gloves, and boots.
"Rezun. Rakasei. Time to stimulate those minds of yours," says Turles.
"Yes, many hypotheses to record," says Rezun.
"And experiments to do," says Rakasei.
Behind them is a man with dark blue hair in a ponytail. Robes drape over his ceremonial armor. Earrings jingle from the side of his head. Rings adorn his fingers.
"You actually did it," he says.
"Daizu," says Turles, "you've regained your princely attire."
"Oh how I've missed it."
And finally comes Kakao. His melty red skin gives his face a grumpy look. The bright steel covering everything but his upper arms, face, and neck shines fiercely.
"Kakao, I bet anyone with a bounty is trembling already."
"As they should be."
Turles floats down to them and holds out the papers containing their names.
"You're all in charge of your own fate now."
They smile and take their sheets.
"I'm sure you're eager to get back to whatever you were doing in your past lives," says Turles, "but I'd like you all to help me with something first."
"Hmph, you can't afford my services," says Kakao.
"Oh I think you'll find that the job I have for all of you pays really well."
"No offense," says Daizu, "but money isn't really an issue for me."
"This is worth more than money."
He plucks something from his neckline. Pinched between his finger and thumb sits a strange seed with flecks of gold among its gnarled shell.
The five look at one another and then back to Turles.
"This is the seed of a god tree. The fruit this tree grows grants tremendous power to those that eat of it. I've had a small taste of this power from merely a frail sample, but the strength it bestowed was immense."
His mouth salivates at the thought of the fruit's bitter taste. Every muscle in his body suddenly yearns to feel the power again.
The twins speak in alternating sentences.
"We've heard rumors of what you speak. This 'Tree of Might' is meant to nourish the Kais. Perhaps if we could cultivate it, their power could become our own. Tell us more of your experience."
"The tree I ate from grew in a mound of dirt no bigger than a hill. It seemed stunted and meek."
"Yes, of course," says the twins. Their eyes pass scheming glances.
"If we can find a place rich with life…" says Rezun.
"Then we could grow the tree to its full potential and produce fruit with even greater power boosts," says Rakasei.
"So who's in?'' says Turles.
"I'd do anything to get a shot in at those Kais," says Amondo. "I spent the last half of my life as a prisoner, and I have no intention of spending my new one that way."
"I was a ruler of people," says Daizu, "before the Kais subjugated me to their judgment. I'd love to rule over them."
"The Kais didn't deem my bounty hunting services as necessary," says Kakao. "I'd like to show them they made a mistake."
"We'd love a chance to experiment on the mighty tree that feeds the Kais," says Rezun.
"We should even be able to genetically modify a superior breed," says Rakasei
"It's settled then," says Turles. "Let's find somewhere nice to start our little garden. Follow me."
Turles' lifts from the ground.
Daizu, Amondo, and the twins turn to each other before looking at Turles.
"Uh," says Daizu. "None of us can fly."
"Oh, what about you Kakao?"
Several panels of Kakao's armor slide out of place to reveal jet thrusters. They ignite so he can hover from the ground.
"I see," says Turles. "Rezun, Rakasei. The two of you ride on Kakao."
Kakao pulls the midgets up so they can sit on his shoulders.
Turles floats between Daizu and Amondo. He offers them a hand which they each take. He lifts them from the floor and picks up speed towards the exit behind the desk. Kakao follows.
They fly out over the clouds. Daizu and Amondo grimace at them as they hang by an arm below Turles.
"Let's plant ourselves a tree!" says Turles.