Echoes

Chapter 70: Should Be Peace


'Dear! Dear!'

Face pressed to her steel workbench, Bulma managed to prop her head by her chin and watch her father scramble into the room. He nimbly avoided clutters of junk and ripped paper and slammed a stack of papers on her desk. 'I've got it! I've finally got it!'

Bulma's eyes drifted to the stack. 'Got…' she looked up at him. 'got… what?'

'The readings!' Dr. Briefs nearly shouted. 'They finally came in! Your satellite is working- and, my gosh, is it working!' He started picking apart individual pages and spreading them across her workbench. 'We've finally got a functioning tap, untraceable, into the PTO's communication network!'

Bulma looked more closely at one of the pages. Nothing readable- it was loaded with curving, cutting, alien-looking symbols.

'It'll become more useful once we translate their code, of course,' Dr. Briefs said, chuckling. 'Still… progress is progress.'

Bulma lifted one page. Scowling at it, she crumpled it into a ball and threw it over her shoulder.

Her father was just slow enough to miss it on its way down. 'Sweetie!' he chided, bending over and grabbing the crumpled paper. 'Don't do that! This is important research material!'

She huffed. 'Is it, Dad?' she asked, sitting up and turning to him. 'You see progress- I see nonsense and more endless months trying to crack this damn thing…'

Dr. Briefs finished uncrumpling the paper. 'That's a far cry from your usual attitude,' he said. 'You're usually so chipper about research.'

'I am- when I'm making progress,' Bulma sighed.

'But-' he swept his hands over the papers. 'This is progress, dear. Sure- it may take a while-'

'I'm just frustrated, Dad,' Bulma said, slouching. 'I thought progress would come faster.' She vaguely gestured to her surroundings; her lab was an unambiguous mess. 'I didn't think I'd go a full year without making any.'

'That's not true,' Dr. Briefs argued. 'Someone on your staff told me you prototyped a healing tank like the PTO has. That's progress!'

Bulma snorted. 'If you call a pale imitation of something- with no idea of how to make it any better than what we have now, mind you- a step towards reverse-engineering PTO tech, your idea of progress is much more generous than mine. At best, I created a critical care chamber. Can't heal someone beyond the point of just healthy enough not to die.' She buried her head in her arms. 'Not even close to what the PTO has.'

Dr. Briefs pulled off his glasses and rubbed them against his lab coat. 'Every innovation goes through stages of wildly differing viability… you know this, Bulma.'

'I do,' she said rotely. 'But… nothing is how I want it right now.' She frowned abruptly, and turned her head to her father. 'Can you just let your only daughter mope in peace?'

'I have a feeling,' he said, fixing a knowing gaze on Bulma, 'that someone's visited our two uncooperative prisoners today.'

'Yes!' she said, pressing her face into her workbench again. 'I couldn't wait for Krillin, so I went in by myself, and I got really frustrated! Damn bastards won't share anything about PTO tech with me! I don't even think they know anything, to be honest!' She rounded on her father. 'Happy!?'

'Yes.' Dr. Briefs turned his head and flaunted a grin he was sure Bulma couldn't see. 'Do you want me to leave?' he asked, collecting his papers.

'Yes,' Bulma moaned. 'Yes, and-'

'Hmm?' He looked back at her; her eyes were locked on something just past the edge of her workbench. 'What is it?'

'I… feel like I'm forgetting something.'

0o0o0

The world around him was crisp and cool- the midnight air had settled a dew on the grassy blades and taller shrubs that occasionally brushed against his skin. Add a persistent wind into the mix, and try as he might, he never found a place outside where he could sit undisturbed.

Meditation had, in the past year, eluded him. That was true of a lot in his life right now.

'Krillin?'

He let his chest rise and fall, and turned on his knees. Behind him, Rayne leaned in the doorway of their house. A small baby, not even a year old, sat in her arms and looked around with big, glazed eyes.

'No luck?' Rayne asked, her voice modulated by the need to speak past but not over the person she carried.

Krillin shook his head- flashing his black horns- and stood. 'No luck,' he said, patting his knees clean of dirt.

'Sorry.' One of Rayne's eyebrows curled. 'The reason I came out... uhh… do you mind doing the thing?...'

He glanced at her, noted her face, and flashed an unsteady grin. 'Again?'

'I think Marron likes it.'

Krillin threw his right arm across his chest and stretched it. 'Well, in that case…'

There was a brief moment where wind rippled past the three of them, swaying nothing but tree leaves and stray droplets of dew. Then a storm of movement took place, and when he was done, Krillin, his hips open to them, was squatting, had his elbows out, and splayed his hands and fingers in the air in front of his face like a patchy mask. 'Haaah!'

True to Rayne's word, Marron saw the pose and began to coo and jostle her head approvingly.

'Well done,' Rayne commended him, smiling down at the bubbly baby. 'I always find it… surprising that you can do that.'

Krillin straightened. 'Nothing but stubborn muscle memory,' he said, his voice more interested in stating that than the rest of his casual posture. He scratched his neck. 'If I could forget that…'

'I know,' Rayne said quickly. She looked at him. 'I know.'

He tilted his head and looked past her. 'Anything you need me to do while I'm up?'

'No packages for your horns to open, no,' Rayne said, her eyes darting to Marron. She began to fuss with her green hair- hair that would have been identical to her own if it wasn't darker and blacker.' And nothing stuck on tall shelves for you to grab…' she glanced at him, a hint of mischief on her face. 'Want me to throw something on top of the kitchen cupboards so you have something to do?'

Krillin chuckled through his nose. 'That's fine. You know…' he glanced over his shoulder at the forest coating either side of the valley, and looked to the clear blue air above. 'If there's nothing else, I should probably go.'

Rayne rolled her arms, adjusting her hold on Marron. 'You sure?' she asked. 'I could go back inside and you could take a stab at meditating again.'

He shrugged and sighed in the same motion. 'I could,' he said. 'But, to be honest, I don't think it's meant to be today. There are other things I could be doing, anyway.' He swept his gaze over the valley again, then settled it on Rayne. 'You, of course, uh… if you need me to do anything with Marron-'

'No,' she said, her placid face an odd companion to the clear strain in her voice. 'I'm okay. No need for…' she closed her eyes, focusing. 'I'd prefer not that.'

A definite sadness traveled with Krillin's gaze to Rayne and Marron- and he was heartachingly aware that neither one of them saw it.

'Okay.' He stared at Marron. 'You know,' he started, 'most fathers would be worried if their kid looked nothing like them.'

Rayne, to his relief, snorted, and drew her gaze back to him. 'You're not most fathers,' she said, managing a small smile. She then said, before Krillin could say anything: 'This is really all we have at this point, huh? Jokes.'

'Could be worse,' Krillin said quietly. 'Could be dead.'

'We could.'

Slowly, Krillin broke off eye contact and faced away from them. He hadn't planned to fly to Capsule Corp. dressed in an extremely showy button-down floral shirt and khaki shorts, but, well, he wasn't going to stay around here. Might be a little cold up there... how long is it to West City from here, anyway? A few hours?

'Krillin,' Rayne said, piercing his thoughts and stepping further away from the house. 'Do you mind if I ask what you're going to do there?'

He glanced at her. 'You want to know?'

'Of course.' Rayne professed. 'Why wouldn't I?'

Krillin rubbed the side of his head. 'Well, I thought I'd pop into West City, chat with the prisoners and Bulma, see if anything new has come up- and, it's been nearly a year since the day.' Krillin said, halfway off the ground. He looked at her. 'Since Namek.'

Her eyes widened. 'So, then…'

'Ginyu hasn't budged. So-' his eyes brightened '-I figure it's time to give the dragonballs a try.'

'And Bulma has the radar,' Rayne said. 'I see. In that case…'

She strode over to him, and with some difficulty, placed her arms around him. She made sure that Marron wasn't crushed between them. For Krillin, it was a light hug, if it was anything, but he couldn't believe it was actually happening; Rayne hadn't touched him in any way, shape, or form in what felt like forever.

'Good luck,' she said crisply, drawing back after a second.

He nodded, looked one last time at Marron, and flew off.

0o0o0

Retu shared in the predominant opinion of most of the other researchers at Capsule Corp.- the ship he and Dr. Briefs built looked strange. Strange enough that, even though he knew it was space-worthy and contained a localized gravity chamber- surely one of the most intricate pieces of technology on Earth- he had grown used to laughing at it whenever he passed by it. It just looked so odd with its bulbous appearance and stubby lugs; after-the-fact, it was clear that neither he nor Dr. Briefs had a knack for artistic design. An egg with legs sticking out the bottom. Ridiculous.

But on this day, he wished he could call on that same characterization of this eyesore of a spaceship- he wished that he could laugh at it instead of being terrified.

'Okay…' He stood on the ship's ramp, and measured the gap between himself and the ship's entrance. Just a few feet. Cross that, keep yourself from imploding for a minute, and ask… that's all I need to do. Easy…

He felt sick enough to barf by the time he came to stop inside- though that was from something else entirely. He had forgotten the gravity chamber was on and, once he stepped inside the confines of the gravity field, he fell to his knees and nearly face-planted into the floor. My insides!… he screwed his eyes shut and placed a hand over his mouth. Oh, dear Kami!…

At the other end of the chamber, shrouded in a mess of long, slightly curly red hair and sweat, Suno grunted as she finished a one-armed push-up. She whipped her head back in an effort to throw her hair out of her face- and, in doing so, saw Retu near collapse on the other side of the room. 'Retu!?' she half-said, half-screamed.

'My insides!…' he wrenched his head up to face her. '... they want to be my outsides!'

A short time later, after Suno had sprinted over to the console and turned the gravity machine off, and after she had guided Retu outside and let him be sick in the nearby gardens, sat him down on a bench facing the ship. 'So,' she said, falling into the seat beside him, 'what was that about?'

A deathly white aura hovered on Retu's face. 'What was "what" about?' he asked weakly, hunched over with his head propped up by his hands.

'Why'd you come into the chamber while I was training?' she asked, leaning forward with her head turned to him. 'I mean, you knew I was training today… and, on top of that, you should have seen me training at the other end before stepping into the gravity field.'

His eyes stared at the grass at their feet through his fingers. 'I was… distracted.'

'Okay,' she said, some frustration in her voice, 'distracted by what?'

He shook his head- though there was an unmistakable grin present on his sickly face. 'It's funny,' he said quietly. 'Before throwing up, I would have been too sick to even approach this topic.'

The gears in Suno's mind started to clank too loudly for her to think. 'Too sick to approach… what?'

Retu leaned back, his face turned only slightly towards her. 'Well- I was going to ask you on a date before nearly breaking my face and vomiting my guts out, in all honesty.'

Slow-moving realization- visible in the wild shifts in expression that seesawed across Suno's face- finally found its way to the part of her brain that controlled her mouth. 'Seriously?' she said.

'Serious.'

Arms crossed, Suno leaned back as if confronted with a tricky problem. 'Well- Hold on,' she furrowed her brow and glanced at the ship. 'Is that why you invited me to use the gravity chamber a few months back?' he threw her gaze back at him. 'Why you invited me and me alone? You were planning this from the beginning!'

He frowned and tipped his head. 'Kinda. I mean…' somehow, despite how white and drained his face was, Retu still summoned some embarrassment to color his cheeks. 'I've had a crush on you for a while. I didn't invite you here because I wanted to ask you that… I just liked you, and wanted to spend more time around you, and the chamber's really only big enough for one, maybe two…' He sighed. 'I only decided to ask you this week.'

'So, to be clear- you're asking me out on a date?'

'I am, sadly.'

'What kind of date?'

'I dunno. Food, probably.'

She fixed a skeptical gaze on him. 'You're not going to bar me from using the chamber if I say no, are you?''

A serious expression crossed Retu's face. 'No- I would never do that. I'm not some sort of… manchild. Though…' he frowned further. 'if you said no, I would probably be forced by shame to avoid you…' he looked at the ship. 'So, I guess you couldn't expect expedient repairs if anything broke with the gravity machine…' His face lifted as if realizing something. 'Shoot, that would be true, wouldn't it?...'

Suno stared at him. 'Are you usually this detached and objective about things this personal to you?'

'Not at all.' Retu made a tired face and placed his face into his hands. 'But throwing up has a way of exhausting my ability to feel anxious about my love life- or, in general, I guess.'

'Huh.' Suno crossed her arms and leaned back. The man next to her had, in a state of severe discomfort, laid his love-cards on the table. She didn't know what to do with that fact. She hadn't really thought about this stuff- crushes, and everything that came along with them- since leaving Jingle Village and the one boy her age there. What was his name? Pengi? Penga? She wouldn't lie- that boy was cute. His silky black hair and striking blue eyes could make her eleven-year-old self's knees weak-

That boy was… around twelve then. And I turned nineteen last month. So… nineteen minus twelve… that equals seven… Her eyes widened. Wow. Do not think about that boy again, Suno.

She looked at Retu. Of all the people that flitted in and out of her high-powered fighter circle of friends, he was probably the person she knew the least about, and she had certainly never thought of him as anything more than an acquaintance. Looking at him now, she saw that he was fit- maybe not for her standards, but compared to everyone else on the planet, he was practically chiseled- and had a nice enough face.

'How old are you?' she asked, her face studying his.

'Nineteen,' Retu said. 'Why do you ask?'

She squinted at him. 'Fine,' she said, half-surprised she had actually said that. 'I'll go on a date with you- now, actually, considering that you've interrupted my training.'

He struggled to turn to her. 'What? Now?' A sickly green color dusted his face. 'Five minutes ago, I was-'

'Yes,' she said, standing, 'now. And- actually.' She glanced at what she was wearing; her training clothes, nothing more than a white tank-top and grey track pants, were stained with sweat and stank. 'I'm going to take a shower, change into something cleaner, and then we'll go.' She laid her eyes on him. 'Okay?'

He looked hesitant, but ultimately nodded. '...Okay.' He stood, exposing the splotch of barf that had caught the collar of his white laboratory coat. 'Guess I'll change, too, then.'

0o0o0

From where she was, peering out through one of the castle's only windows, Chi-Chi cupped a hot vessel of tea and watched her father stride up and down the courtyard. His movements were showy and exaggerated, and even at this distance, she could feel the faint rumblings of his steps. The tea in her steaming cup wavered against the ceramic.

Sometimes she forgot how massive her father was. It was a wonder that Gohan, positioned just out of sight behind a tree, felt so at ease with his towering grandfather.

'You still here, Chi-Chi?'

She smiled faintly. 'Sorry,' she said, turning away from the window. 'You were saying?'

Yamcha- who was, for the first time since they were children, wearing a turtle shell on the back of a familiar orange gi she and a few select others still had- sipped on a cooler cup of tea. 'I was "saying" that I could train Gohan,' he said, 'before you turned mysteriously towards the window.'

'You mean help train,' she said.

'Yes, help train,' he agreed. Due to the massive size of the shell he wore, he was essentially pinned between his chair's back and the oak table his arms were spread across. 'I know you and your father are doing good work- I don't mean to diminish that. But you could always use another hand to help, right?'

She scrunched her mouth in thought. 'Maybe,' she said. 'Admittedly, I'm spending more time homeschooling him than I would like…' she crossed the kitchen and sat down at the opposite end of Yamcha's table. 'I've discovered the hard way how much work it takes to hold the attention span of a three-year-old. Because of this, my dad's been handling most of the training himself.'

'Yeah?' Yamcha struggled against his shell to lean to his right. 'What's he been teaching?'

A measured smile appeared on Chi-Chi's face. 'Is it smart to reveal my father's lessons to a rival school?'

'Rival school?' Yamcha echoed with a snort. 'That's how you see things?'

Chi-Chi blew on and sipped her tea. 'You took on students, didn't you?' she asked, her mouth hidden by the cup. 'That typically marks a school.'

Yamcha dismissed her thought with a wave of his hand. 'My last student departed last month; as it turns out, when there are no World Martial Arts Tournaments on the horizon, people aren't very eager to stick with training.'

'No WMATs?' Chi-Chi repeated, placing her cup down. 'What are you talking about?'

Yamcha gave her a confused look. 'You didn't hear? The organization that ran them, the one which employed all the officials and owned the property- it shut down.' A wry grin took ahold of his mouth. 'I guess, to them, losing your entire venue to an explosion was too much of a financial loss to swallow.'

'They're gone?' Chi-Chi's eyes were more white than black. 'I can't believe it… well, I mean, a part of me can after everything that happened, but still…'

Chi-Chi grew silent, and Yamcha took the opportunity to down the last of his tea. He stared up at the ceiling.

'So… we really are in control now, aren't we?' Chi-Chi said.

Yamcha placed his empty cup down and looked back to her. 'What do you mean by that?'

Chi-Chi picked up her tea with both hands; she felt it grow cooler between her palms. 'I mean that we're all that the Earth has right now. All the old masters that were before us…' she gazed at Yamcha, and he noted a very distinctive melancholy in her eyes. It was familiar, too. 'They're not around anymore. Master Roshi has been dead for five years. I haven't heard anything about the other old winners of the WMAT recently… and then there's Gohan,' she muttered.

'Gohan?' Yamcha frowned. 'What does Gohan have to do with this?'

She smiled at him- it was a smile laced with pain. 'Someone I never met but knew. Someone who gave a lot to me.'

Yamcha crossed his arms. 'That… sounds familiar, actually.'

'What?'

His fingers snapped. 'I remember,' he mumbled. 'I remember who that is,' he said more confidently. 'A long time ago… it must have been right before the 23rd WMAT… I was hunting for the dragonballs with Rayne. During our search, we stumbled on an old woman's cave- can't remember her name. She was a fortune-teller, though, and could communicate with the dead. And, she... ' he stared at Chi-Chi.

Chi-Chi stared back. 'What? What did she do?'

'She helped us talk to Gohan- the man who raised Kakarot when he was younger,' Yamcha muttered. 'That fortune-teller brought his soul from the dead so he could warn us about… him.' He blinked. 'That feels like a lifetime ago.'

'It certainly does,' Chi-Chi said, sighing.

'So he was a Martial Artist?'

The question startled Chi-Chi. 'Gohan?'

Yamcha conveyed his interest with a single nod of his head.

'He was,' Chi-Chi went on. 'Yeah- that's who I was talking about,' she pushed herself back into their previous discussion. 'I think he trained under Master Roshi, way back when. I guess, in hindsight, it makes sense why he was able to raise Kakarot for so long.' She bit the inside of her cheek. 'He was tough.'

Chi-Chi became aware that Yamcha's gaze was trained on her. 'What?'

'Is that why you named Gohan… Gohan?'

She half-frowned. 'There were a lot of reasons… or feelings, actually.' She focused. 'One feeling. I didn't think about it. Naming him Gohan just felt right.'

'Because the Gohan who raised Kakarot was a martial artist and strong?'

'I guess so, yes.'

'And because he was brave enough to raise someone so powerful?'

'Yes.'

'And because he was kind?'

Chi-Chi looked at him. 'Kind enough to raise someone who could become a monster?' Yamcha asked.

'Hmm.' Chi-Chi set her cup down. 'I don't think,' she said slowly, 'that it was kindness. I think he was more concerned about what Kakarot would do to others without him around.'

'Well,' Yamcha tilted his neck, 'he could have still left him in the forest- he was injured when he found him, if I remember correctly. And then Kakarot wouldn't have… gone on.'

Chi-Chi was silent for a moment. 'Yeah,' she said. 'I guess so.'

Yamcha registered the muted expression on Chi-Chi's face. 'Sorry,' he said. 'I don't think- I never actually asked where you were with-'

'Kakarot died to save Gohan and me,' Chi-Chi said, 'and he made that choice by himself. He did a lot of bad, some good, and…' she sighed. 'Now he's dead. Nothing more to say than that. Life moves on, I suppose.'

'Right,' Yamcha replied quietly. 'Are you going to finish that?' He asked, glancing down at the table.

Chi-Chi lifted her cup and drank the rest of her tea. 'Got any other questions to pick my brain with?' she asked, placing the cup down.

'No, but,' Yamcha said, pushing back his chair and standing. 'What you've told-slash-reminded me settled it; I'm going to help you train Gohan, and I won't take no for an answer.'

'I already gave you maybe as an answer,' Chi-Chi said, pinching her face. 'And don't you have a school of your own to run?'

'Pah!' Yamcha puffed out his chest. 'Me? Not a chance! Without me there, no one is going to lounge around on Kame island!' As if to emphasize his enthusiasm, Yamcha shouldered off his shell and held it in front of him like a shield. 'Trust me; my time will be better spent here than there.'

An entirely different part of Chi-Chi's face pinched. 'And what about Bulma? As I understand it, you've been running a martial arts school for almost a year, and in that time, you've never visited her.' She eyed him. 'And you think visiting her isn't overdue?'

'She would have contacted me if she needed me!' Yamcha countered. 'But, as it is, I haven't heard a single word from her. So, no- a visit isn't overdue.'

For the third time and last time, Chi-Chi pinched a different part of her face. 'Not once?...'

'C'mon Bulma!' Yamcha pleaded. 'Just give me a few weeks, and if I'm not good enough, I'll leave!' He flashed a brilliant smile. 'Promise!'

'You're sure about this?'

'As sure as I've ever been.'

'Two weeks?'

'Promise,' he repeated. 'I think Gohan will really benefit from it.'

Chi-Chi tried to cement this scene in her memory. She wanted to remember this image of Yamcha- the goofy grin lighting his face, and the way he stood behind his shell like it was a weapon (which, if used properly, it was). It was funny; it was also touching.

'Okay, then,' she said, standing. She strode over to Yamcha, hand open. After a second, he realized what she was going for and shook. 'Welcome aboard.'

0o0o0

Snow dusted the distant mountaintops, forming a white backdrop to the steep slope stretching up to the sky in every direction. Today, they were in a geological bowl accessible only by flight, and Launch, in her infinite quest for strength, decided that she and Tien would make the most of it. Chiaotzu, who had a rough idea of what Launch had in mind, stayed home.

'HyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAH!' Launch, streaking down from the heavens, crashed her leg with the force of a meteor against Tien's overhead block. Earth rumbled, ground shifted beneath their feet, and in the distance, the white, picturesque dusting shifted. Neither Tien nor Launch realized what they had caused until an ocean of snow submerged them mid-spar.

A minute later, Tien's head popped out into the open air. 'AUGH!' he gasped. 'Aahuh… aahuh… oooof…' he shivered. 'Cold…'

To his right, a blob of snow rose, then exploded, as Launch freed her head. 'Woah!' she exclaimed. 'That was unexpected.'

'Was it?' Tien said, his teeth chattering. 'Was it really?'

'Bad answer. If you expected this, you weren't paying any attention to our training.'

'I'm paying attention to other things,' Tien muttered, examining his surroundings the best he could without a movable neck. 'Like, for example, why we came out here.'

'Training,' Launch grunted. She wiggled her head, then popped out of the ground with a burst of ki. After testing to see the snow was thick enough to walk on, she waddled over to Tien and helped him up. 'Thought we should go find an extreme environment to train in.'

Tien found his balance on the snow. 'Extreme being the risk of avalanches?'

'Yep.'

'But-' he scowled at her. 'So you did know! You- you expected this to happen!'

Launch made a so-so gesture with her hand. 'Eh… kinda.'

'I'm angry now,' Tien said. 'I'm angry, and you caused that.' He swung away from her. 'We're leaving, pronto-'

'Tien!' Launch called, padding after him through the snow. 'Stop- okay-' she grabbed him by the wrist. 'Actually stop. Don't go. We can still train here-'

'Why do you keep dragging me to these places?' Tien said, rounding on her. 'What happened to good ol' fashioned training and meditating?'

Launch flaunted a glare- which was plastered over what would have been a heavy frown. 'Well…' she visibly struggled to speak. 'Tried and true isn't working for me anymore, to be honest.'

Tien studied her- his look softened. 'They're not helping you to catch up.' He dipped his head. 'I understand. You're just as far away from as you were a year ago.'

'You don't have to say it out loud.' she grumbled. 'And it took you long enough to notice!' she growled. 'Guess I know I don't pop into your head during your "meditations".'

'What?'

'What?'

'...Uh…' Tien scratched his head, then shook it. 'What did you?...'

'Shut up,' Launch said. 'I just got an idea.'

Tien stared at her. 'An idea?'

'Do you remember that weird room at Kami's place I told you about? The one where I wrestled past versions of myself?'

'Uhh…' he shot Launch a blank look. 'I don't remember that, no.'

'Wrong question,' she growled, shoving him. 'Do you remember that time when I smacked around that imp- what was his name, Garlic Jr.?'

'You told me about that, and him, yes,' Tien said.

'Well, when I fought him then, I also wrestled past versions of myself- hence, my comment.'

'Um… okay,' Tien scratched his head again. 'Why is this relevant?'

'Because that room was crazy- but in a good way.'

'Elaborate.'

Launch stepped to his side. 'Imagine a room as wide and limitless at this,' she said, holding Tien with one arm and sweeping her other through the air. 'Garlic Jr. obviously meant to delay or defeat me by making me face past versions of myself there- you know how those types are,' she said, smacking him on the back. 'But I remember something interesting about that room; it wasn't just an obstacle, it was… like a reflection, somehow, of myself.'

Tien raised an eyebrow. 'Didn't you already say you fought past versions of yourself?'

Launch shook her head. 'It was more than that. They felt… present. Almost like I was facing my past selves- though, not entirely, because my yellow and blue sides were never around at the same time.'

'I still don't see how this connects to your training.'

'That fight felt like a test-' Launch said '-a test that might have increased my strength if I hadn't been put in there by a bad guy, understand? And, even if that's not the case, I'm interested to see whether that room, when guided properly, can summon things other than past versions of myself.'

'Any way to change up the routine?' Tien asked.

'Exactly,' Launch jabbed at the air. 'I know I can use ki there, too- I remember I threw it through some weird window while I was there.'

'We'll visit Kami soon and find out for sure,' Tien assured her. 'In the meantime?...'

'You want to leave?'

'Yes, please.'

They began to lift into the sky. 'Sorry,' Tien said, 'did you say "weird window" before?'

'I did.'

'What weird window?'

'This thing in the room. I saw shapes- maybe people- moving around beyond it.'

'And you threw a ki blast through it, why?'

'Felt like the right thing to do. Think I hit something, too- something green. Something small.'

Tien, buffeted by more and more wind as their speed increased, squinted. 'Odd.'

0o0o0

Fate, it seemed to Piccolo, had a flair for significance. He had been traveling through a snarling thunderstorm; the cloud was thick enough where lightning surrounded him like the bars of a cage. He was never in any danger from whatever the weather threw at him- a lightning bolt would never pierce his blue-white aura- but the storm was a nuisance, and specifically, a drag on his speed. Eventually, he grew tired of fighting the whipping wind and rain and decided to land for a few hours so as to let it pass.

And so fate delivered him; he landed on an island, sheer rock lording over the wide, endless ocean. It was only after the weather had passed, however, did he recognize where he was. This was the island where, in the wake of the 23rd WMAT and his failures there, he had ceased his frustrated destruction and began to recognize the shortcomings of his father, and it was then when the first seeds of doubt in himself were planted. Both those thoughts came to a head on Namek- both had nearly destroyed him and everyone else there.

Things were different now, of course. He no longer rested uneasily as the strongest- but not strong enough- fighter on this planet. With Krillin stuck in Ginyu's body, coupled with his unwillingness to train both himself and others, Piccolo was leaps and bounds above anyone who would challenge him. If he so wished, he was sure that, as his father dreamed, he could rule this planet. It would be easy.

But he was also different, now. His father's dream had not so much as passed as it had been replaced by his own. Though, as to what that dream was…

Namek had taught him many things- perhaps too many things. It was likely that, among everyone he knew, he alone knew the scale of power that the galaxy operated on. Moori had only given him a partial and incomplete picture of a time long before his, and still, he struggled to accept how insignificant his own power would have been during the events of that time. He would have been nothing more than a bystander; that would have gnawed at him until nothing of his will was left. And there is no reason to believe that the significant actors from then would not have passed on anything less than their full power to their successors- if not more than that.

Frieza…that man Ginyu went on and on about… he must be a descendant of his. There's no doubt in my mind. So I know the PTO is headed by a monstrously strong individual… and this organization is, most likely, hunting for Earth and blood.

He had trained relentlessly upon returning from Namek; even now, his body ached, threatening to spill into his meditative state. And yet a small part of him knew a vast amount of time would be needed before he came anywhere close to what he knew. He wondered if he would ever have enough time; he had made enough progress in the last year to discourage him.

Stop that... Piccolo, alone on his island with a clearing sky above, tensed his body. No reason to despair… no reason to accept this. We bought time on Namek. It's just a matter of time...

He took a deep breath. Still… He noted his increased heart rate.

There was no reason to panic- nothing in his mind screamed danger, nor did anything disrupt the careful construct of thoughts he had built there. But those observations did not make him feel any less on-edge. He couldn't figure out what was wrong. Something within him, among the millions of other mundane and ordinary feelings that he kept sequestered and sorted, was stirring.

Something stirred.

An outline- bordered by green with nothing inside it- appeared in his mind's eye. Vaguely humanoid… Namekian…

'Leera?'

The outline was statuesque- it may have been an actual statue. 'Is this you? Are you causing this?'

The statue moved- he shifted like a person holding out an arm.

'What… what feels so wrong?'

Green-white lines appeared, stretching away into the infinite edges of his consciousness, and with it went Piccolo's attention. He felt himself cruise through his memory, his thoughts and feelings identical to how he would watch the land roll by under him when he flew- and a growing sense built up in him. Nothing new had entered his mind- nothing unrecognizable. But something… old... was brushing up against him. Something familiar...

0o0o0

The thick air that he had been breathing for who-knows-how-many-years had drained him- as he led them across the broken and blackened dirt, onto sharp ledges and through sinking pits, he felt the land weigh heavily on him. He knew it was not physical or mental- for the most part, he felt the same as he did on the day he died- but spiritual weakness that haunted him. His body and mind were ready for his command. The issue was that, with the passage of time, he was less and less able to direct them.

He gloomily remembered that Hell claims for all a final end, eventually. Time was the only lord here.

Bardock paused and doubled over, hands on his knees. Sweat swung off him as he panted. Well, that and those two ogres… but I haven't seen them since I blew up their precious lake of blood.

A hand pressed into his back. 'You okay, Dad?'

Bardock glanced back- Kakarot was surely weaker than him, and yet he had kept himself rigid while they ascended this hill. 'Just a minute.' He wiped away the sweat on his forehead with his wristband. 'Just give me a minute.'

When they finally arrived at the top of the hill- a hill that Bardock marveled at, for it commanded an impressive and mostly unobscured view of the surrounding dark and pink landscape- Bardock made a point of summoning whatever strength he had left and straightened. He would not appear weak.

Just beyond them, located in the very center of the hill's apex, a shadowy dark-green figure sat and meditated. 'And so you two have arrived,' Katas said without opening his eyes. 'It took you some time to get here.'

At his side, Kakarot shifted- he was about to speak. Bardock very quickly elbowed him to do otherwise. 'We were delayed,' Bardock said, his voice sounding tired even to his own ears. 'Consider us as doing our final checks here.'

His comment seemed to entertain Katas- he opened one eye and curved the edges of his mouth into a smile. 'There is no need to lie to me.' Katas shifted, and began to stand. 'Especially when I can tell by the sound of your voice how this place wears on you.'

'We did look for him,' Kakarot said. 'We had to make sure.'

Katas regarded them- Kakarot more than him. 'And so you have,' he said, stepping forward. In his wake, his massive feet left imprints in the ground. 'Otherwise, you would not be here, correct?'

Kakarot nodded.

'Good.' Katas's gaze drifted to his right and the misty land there. 'You will not have to wait long, now.' He looked back to them. 'I apologize for the delay in keeping my end of our bargain. Fortunately, this did not seem to be an issue for you.'

'No,' Bardock said, 'it wasn't.'

'Did you ever think that I had betrayed you?'

Bardock thought that, to this question, Kakarot might have flinched. He was too attentive to Katas's abrupt, unreadable expression to check, though.

'No,' he replied. 'Not once.'

'And why is that?'

'You fought the same person that I did,' Bardock said. He made of point of meeting Katas's gaze. 'We both had our issues with him.'

Katas looked at him quizzically. 'That is true,' he said in a calculated voice. 'Though, by the time he reached me, whether or not I beat him did not matter- my end of the bargain for you would have been fulfilled either way.' He gave them a lipless grin. 'In a certain way, you two got a better deal out of this than me.'

'Tends to happen with these things,' Kakarot spoke up. Bardock, shrinking under Katas's gaze, regretted that he couldn't elbow his son again. 'One side will always benefit more from a deal than the other.'

Katas's initial silence nearly killed Bardock. 'True,' he said. 'It is good, then, that I am not so arrogant as to not allow insignificant creatures to get a good deal from me.'

Katas turned and moved away, and eventually resumed the same meditative pose they had found him in. 'It won't be long, now.'

0o0o0

'Kami- are you alright?'

Mr. Popo, watering can in one hand, had stepped into a strange scene- in the main chamber of the Lookout's central complex, a room austere and featureless except for a plain stone throne, Kami sat, slumped back and to his right, with his staff laid across his lap and his face flat in one hand. The throne's armrests, like Kami, seemed to groan from maintaining this simple pose.

None of which concerned Mr. Popo; they did not exist to be concerned. They existed to serve. And serve they would.

'Kami?' Mr. Popo repeated. 'Is it the headache again? Shall I go down to the surface and fetch more of that tea you like?'

Like a failing machine, Kami lifted his left arm- the one not holding his head- and clenched his staff. 'Mr. Popo…' he said, his voice falling and rising with the effort, 'that would be good, yes.' He raised his weary head; thick creases, deep enough to go to his bones, wound across his face. 'And, while you're there-'

He stopped suddenly. Mr. Popo watched Kami's mouth move, form around a few words, and abandon the effort. Clarity, though- there was unmistakable clarity in his eyes. Something pure and distinct.

Kami's head dropped into his hand again, obscuring his face. 'While you're there-' he resumed, his voice just as weak, '-I believe the dragonballs have become active again. I request that you collect them and bring them here.'

Mr. Popo dutifully dipped their head. 'It will be done, Kami, though, if I may ask-'

'You may always ask, friend.'

'-for what purpose?' Mr. Popo finished, looking back up at Kami.

The Guardian, in the time it had taken them to ask their question, had lifted his head again. 'You of all people, Mr. Popo, should understand my current state- how old and ragged I feel,' he said, his voice wavering. 'My health has declined, without apparent reason or cause. I fear, that…'

Kami's head moved backward, slumping against the throne as most of his body did. 'I fear that I will soon die,' Kami finished. 'Or, at the very least, be unable to perform my duties as Guardian of Earth.' His gaze moved to Mr. Popo. 'Neither should happen anytime soon. It is… not time. I am not ready to abandon the Earth.'

'I see,' Mr. Popo said, hands clasped behind them. 'You think the dragonballs can heal you?'

'They can, at the very least, determine the cause,' Kami replied. 'The dragon should possess omnipotence for all creatures of Earth. Shenron should be able to diagnose me.'

'Then I will gather them at once,' Mr. Popo said, bowing and receding in equal measure. 'I have no doubt that Shenron will help you.'

'Thank you, friend,' Kami said, coughing into his hand. 'Thank you…'

0o0o0

Bulma was halfway through her frantic midday breakfast- because she had gotten into the habit of forgetting breakfast recently- when Krillin strode into her kitchen. She didn't know if she should have blamed it on his un-Krillin and un-Ginyu attire or on the fact that she was stuffing down a particularly large waffle, but either way, her harsh, whooping laugh betrayed her and she started to choke. Her hands, flying to her throat, managed to whack her waffle dish straight into the ceiling before Krillin saved her with a hard pat on the back. A thick, wet chunk of waffle flew out of her and bounced off the far wall.

'Haaaaa… haaa… haaa… Krillin,' she panted, her voice raw. 'Huaaah...thanks for that.'

'Sure, but, uh…'

'What?'

She tracked Krillin's gaze up. Her hands dropped from her throat when she saw what he was looking at.

'That's uh… that plate went straight through the ceiling, huh?'

'It did,' Krillin said. 'It definitely did.'

'I did that, right?'

'I definitely didn't.'

Bulma stood and started walking around the kitchen to see the hole from every angle. 'You know... I have no idea why that happened.'

'You haven't been training, right?'

'Me? Of course not. The last time I was under any kind of physical stress was- huh-'

'What is it?'

Bulma's eyes widened. 'Nevermind. Not important. Actually- you wanted to talk about something else before I punched a hole in my ceiling, right?'

Krillin sat down and motioned Bulma to do the same. 'Well, I just got back-'

'Do you want anything to drink?' Bulma asked, halfway to the chair. She was fiddling with what looked like six or seven different drinks centered around a coffee maker.

'No thanks,' Krillin replied as Bulma sat down opposite of him- on the other side of a kitchen counter- with a cup of hot coffee. 'As I was saying, I just got back from chatting with Ginyu and Recoome.'

'No luck?' she asked, sipping on her drink.

'No luck. So no change there, but- I realized something earlier today.' Krillin hunched closer to the counter. 'The dragonballs should be ready soon.' He gave her a look. 'So?...'

'You want to go for it?' Bulma asked. 'Try and see if they can put you back in your original body?'

Krillin nodded.

After taking another sip, Bulma set her drink down and stood. 'Alright, then. I'll get on that right away. Guess… huh. I don't think we have a dragon radar right now, actually,' Bulma said blinking. 'Because the last one we had got destroyed when we went into space. Wonder if Dad made one…'

Krillin shifted in his seat. 'Will that be a problem?'

'Not at all,' Bulma said, smirking. 'If I need to, I can build one in about five minutes- just a matter of finding the correct schematic and fabricating it.'

'Should I stick around, then?'

'Yes- right here, actually.' She began to walk out of the room. 'Be right back.'

He didn't have to wait long; Bulma returned, a radar in hand, in about four minutes. But- something-

'Bulma?' Krillin asked, concern clear in his voice. 'What's wrong?'

He had never seen her as white as she looked now. Mutely, she walked over and handed the radar to him. 'Take a look.'

Seven dots were blinking in and out on the display. Seven dots moving together as a group.

'What?'

0o0o0

Korin made sure to be quiet as he stepped out onto the top level of his tower. Even from the underchambers, he could tell Yajirobe was asleep- his snores were that loud.

He stopped to examine the sleeping Samurai, splayed out on his makeshift bed comprised of rice sacks. Somehow, he had lost his shirt while asleep, and was pressing his tan-and-pink belly against the sacks and out to either side of him. Korin had worried that moving him up here- in an attempt to solve his own recent problems with sleeping- would harm his quality of sleep. But, if what he saw now was anything to judge by, he seemed to be sleeping better than ever.

Korin yawned. Wish I could say the same about me. Fighting off his weariness, Korin paced across the tower, his staff tapping lightly against the ground as he went. He stopped at the railing, and sighing, he leaned forward on it.

He had spent a lot of his recent time exploring and organizing every nook and cranny of his tower. That had given him some purpose and something to occupy his mind after the fiasco with Kami. But perhaps it wasn't a coincidence that his sleep had suffered recently; he had run out of useful things to do.

No visitors, no one to train… Korin laid his head on the railing. Bet they're giving their all to getting stronger. And what do I have to do? Nothing. His whiskers drooped. I've run out of ways to make myself handy...

He looked out- it was a rare day where no clouds hung around the tower, and if he squinted, he could make out vague shapes on the green and brown land below. Maybe I can prod Yajirobe into training again. Kami's gaze settled on a red-black shape cruising across the ground. I could probably use the rice as a bartering chip- set up some sort of reward system-

Without any warning, that red-black shape screamed into the sky, flying past at such a speed that Korin was thrown back onto his butt. He got the faintest glimpse as it passed- that was Mr. Popo, and-

No; it couldn't have been that. He would have been told if there was a plan in place.

Something cold and sharp wrapped itself around Korin's heart. 'This is wrong,' Korin muttered to himself. Now that he was focusing on what he felt from above-

He wasted no time in rushing over to Yajirobe's bed and kicking the samurai. 'Get up!' he cried.

Yajirobe snorted, waking himself up. 'Wha- what?' He sat up from his bed. 'What's going on? Where's my shirt?'

'Forget about your shirt!' Korin said, whacking his legs with his staff. 'I need you to go up to the Lookout with the power pole right now!'

'What?' Yajirobe crawled away from Korin and rolled off his bed. 'Why do I need to do that?'

'Because Mr. Popo might have just gone up there with the dragonballs and I can't go up there myself!' Korin yelled, holding the power pole out to him. 'Understand?'

'Oh!-' Yajirobe stood and grabbed the red tool from him. 'Oh- yeah! Okay! Uhh- but my shirt-'

'Just go!'

0o0o0

One year. One miserable year. What should have been a simple request had been delayed- by a cat, no less. Today, he would get what he wished; and, yet, the anger was still there. That twisting, biting feeling of rage that rolled off of him like lightning. Today, he would get what he needed. Perhaps then the anger would pass. His mind would be clear again, and he could think, and feel, and walk again among-

Soon. So, very soon-

He had tried his best. In a way, he was thankful for what Korin did. He feared he would not have the willpower to resist- he feared what that would make him. A tool. A fool. Bitter and weak, with nothing left for myself- just others. Another year to marshall his strength. Another year to plan. Would that year make a difference? Perhaps not. He had no illusions as to what he faced. Monstrous-

The wish would have to be parsed carefully. He could not rely on him to do it; he would have to be exact with his pulling. Nothing he hasn't done before, and nothing that he could not do again. He was his own, after all; compulsion removed the power of choice.

He would enjoy this. He hadn't realized this until now. Soon, he would make a mockery of a life. Mold a will to his liking- dominate. Nothing he hasn't done before, and nothing that he could not do again.

This will change me. I will be nothing but flesh and bones. My power will change- my life will become a weakness. There is no return from this.

I am ready for the future. I am ready-

Monstrous. Am I a monster?

A voice, intimate and distant, familiar and alien, touched him- as did a hand on his shoulder.

'Kami? I have done what you have asked.'

The Guardian of Earth, his face a tangle of age and sorrow and burden, turned. 'Thank you, Mr. Popo. Now, please- summon the dragon at once.'

0o0o0

'-uh-'

'What? Do you not like the rice?'

'Look up.'

'Up?'

Seated together at an outside table set with cutlery and food, Retu and Suno both arched their heads backward. Above them, the sky stretched black as far as they could see.

'Were you aware of this?' Suno asked.

'Not at all.'

'Alright,' Suno grunted, pushing out her chair and standing. 'I think we need to go figure out what's going on.'

Retu sighed. 'I'll get the check…'

0o0o0

Chiaotzu flew as fast as he could manage. When he reached the shack, he landed and burst through the door.

'Tien! You-'

'I see it,' Tien replied, slinging on his green overshirt. 'That just happen?'

'Just now. Think they're making a wish without telling us?'

'No chance,' Launch replied from the building's other end. 'They would have told us.'

'So who's making the wish, then?' Chiaotzu asked.

'My guess?' Tien said, putting on the last of his clothes and pulling taut the sash around his waist. 'No one good.'

0o0o0

'Mr. Yamcha?'

His heart nearly melted. How could this kid be this cute? 'What's up?' Yamcha said, crouching down to Gohan's height.

Gohan pointed a finger past him to the sky. 'Sky?... Why sky?...?'

Still smiling, Yamcha looked over his shoulder- and returned to Gohan a much graver person. 'That's…' he stood abruptly. 'I'll tell you later.' He glanced away from Gohan. 'Ox-King?'

Close at hand, Chi-Chi's father gave him a stern shake of his head. 'Go,' he said, stepping over. 'I'll watch over Gohan.'

Yamcha nodded. 'Thank you.' With a final glance to Gohan, Yamcha spun and started running towards the castle. Either Chi-Chi knows what that's about, or…

I don't want to think about that or.

0o0o0

Wicked wind hit them, threatening to rip their clothes off their skin. And yet, despite this-

'CAN'T YOU GO ANY FASTER!?' Bulma shouted from her cradled position in Krillin's arms. She had wrapped her entire body around the dragon radar so that it wouldn't fly out of her grip. 'WE NEED TO MOVE!'

'I'M FLYING AS FAST AS I CAN WITHOUT PUTTING YOU AT RISK!' Krillin replied, not quite matching Bulma's loudness. 'THERE'S NO POINT IN RUSHING THERE IF-'

'I DON'T CARE IF MY HAIR GETS MESSED UP!' Bulma screamed, pounding on him. 'I CAN TAKE IT! SO GO FASTER!'

'ALRIGHT!' Krillin shouted, putting on a burst of speed and flattening Bulma even more so in his arms. 'ALRIGHT!'

0o0o0

The diner, as always, was empty at midday. Puar appreciated this; it made it easier to have sensitive conversations in public.

'That looks familiar,' she commented, looking out the window to her right. She glanced at the person seated across the table from her. 'I guess annual wish-making is going to become a thing again.'

Oolong, polishing off a plate of pancakes, didn't take his eyes off his meal. 'Wonder what they're using them for,' he said in between swallowing a chunk of dough and taking a gulp of orange juice. 'I don't think anyone's died recently.'

'No,' Puar said absentmindedly. 'I don't think so, either- though, it's not like we're super up-to-date with everything.'

'They got back, right?' Oolong said, waving a fork in the air. 'That's all that matters. And, as far as I know, no more alien invaders have turned on Earth since then.'

Puar looked out the window again. She could see people out on walks staring dumbfounded at the sky 'Did you know?'

'Did I know what?'

'Apparently Krillin is purple now.'

Oolong put down his utensils. 'What?'

0o0o0

Kami's staff, silver and brown in the unnatural night, twisted in the old Guardian's hands. Mr. Popo watched those hands turn, round and round, as if they were searching for a comfortable spot to grip the staff. Kami did this with no sense of time or place- he did this before Shenron, the Eternal Dragon himself, who cast down baleful gazes for being forced to watch such a thing. For lack of a better word, Mr. Popo found Kami, the Guardian of Earth, to be… oblivious.

'Mr. Popo,' Kami, turning his attention on him, said in a hollow voice, 'I must request that you leave the Lookout now.'

It was rare for an expression to find its way onto Mr. Popo's face, but this situation necessitated it; confusion as clear as ever seen showed itself to Kami. 'I must leave?' Mr. Popo repeated, thinking they had misheard.

Kami gave a shake of his old, tired head. 'Yes, friend.' His hands continued to warp across the wood. 'If nothing else, I do not want you to be involved. There is no reason you must be here for what comes next.'

'I… I don't understand, Kami,' Mr. Popo said. 'What's going on?'

Kami closed his eyes. 'It began… just as a headache,' he recollected. 'When I was working the records in King Yemma's office. I thought nothing of it at the time…' Kami's hands ceased their travel. 'But that was when it started. This… compulsion.'

The Guardian of Earth opened his eyes. 'Something is wrong with my soul, friend,' Kami said, staring at Mr. Popo. The clarity they had seen before- what was there in the throne room-was in his eyes again. 'And what I am about to do will destroy you if you stay here,' tears welled up in his eyes. 'Please… please, do this for me, if not for yourself.'

Mr. Popo's confusion morphed into concern. 'What are you saying, Kami?' they asked, audibly shaken. 'Destroy yourself? What is about to happen?'

Kami's head dropped. 'I... ' his grip tightened around his staff- his knuckles turned pale green. 'I… I cannot…'

A small burst of energy- nothing more than a rush of wind- flared from Kami. Mr. Popo shielded themself, and when they lowered their arms, they saw Kami staring at them. The look… it was different from before.

'You must do what I say, my old friend,' Kami intoned. His voice slid further and further downward. 'Is it not my right as the Guardian to compel you?'

Mr. Popo, feeling further bound by Kami's words, nonetheless reached forward. 'Kami- this is-'

A single tap of Kami's staff hit the Lookout- and the tiles around him shattered, spraying into pieces and rushing across what tiles remained whole around him. 'Leave me now!' Kami shrieked, whipping his ki into a blue and black frenzy around him. 'I must do this alone! LEAVE!'

Mr. Popo shielded their arms- still, they tried to move closer. 'Kami! Please!-'

Another wave of energy rushed out from the Guardian, strong enough to sweep Mr. Popo off their feet and throw them into the Lookout's main complex. They landed hard, rolled on their hip, and behind them, flames and light poured into the room. Mr. Popo acted quickly- they sprung to their feet and raised a small white barrier around them, protecting themselves from a wave of energy. The barrier groaned, and with equal parts shock and fear, Mr. Popo threw their body against the forward wall of the barrier. They saw cracks form in the white screen, and heat began to trickle inside.

This… this is not Kami's power! This is far too much… far too powerful! Another crack formed, exposing Mr. Popo's right arm to a searing blast of energy. They winced. There'll be nothing left of the Lookout at this rate!

0o0o0

In the distance, waves of energy rushed out from a single point in the sky. Piccolo, flying faster than he had ever flown before, felt horror grip him. No, please! It can't be too late! His aura exploded around him, turning him into a burning comet streaking through the black sky. Please!

0o0o0

Even with a shirt- he never could have been prepared for this. Yajirobe had hustled his way to the top of the Lookout, peaked his head out above the tiles for a second, and was rewarded by way of a wave of superhot ki swarming over him. By the time he ducked back down, and patted his scorched, now bald, head… well...

'Friggin' Korin... '

0o0o0

The Lookout was awash with fire, brimstone, light and heat; at the center of it all, Kami, his robes colored by every possible shade of light and his features hellish, dropped his staff- the fire took it, incinerating it- and with a bend uncharacteristic of his age, dipped and straightened to his full height, throwing out his arms and legs like a fanatic about to embrace their god.

HIs moment! His!-

'SHENRON!' Kami's voice boomed, flying off the Lookout and rushing down to earth as hard as rain. 'MY DIVINE CREATION- YOU STAND BEFORE YOUR GOD!'

The Eternal Dragon had, so far, remained unaffected by the chaos raging below him. Until now.

'THAT… IS NOT A WISH,' Shenron rumbled. 'PLEASE-'

Another explosion rocked the surface of the Lookout, spitting out plants, tiles, and dust into the air. Shenron blinked.

'ALMIGHTY SHENRON!' Kami's voice, somehow, cut through the storm. 'IT IS I, YOUR MASTER! I BESEECH YOU IN MY TIME OF NEED!' Energy and light flared with the rise and fall of Kami's intonation. 'YOU HAVE GIVEN TO ME TWO WISHES, AND TWO WISHES SHALL I USE!'

'STATE-' Shenron stuttered. '-STATE YOUR WISH-'

A sudden bolt of lightning- black and terrible- screeched down from the skies, striking Kami and scorching the ground around him. His screams lit the air, twisted light mingling with awful sound, until another bolt struck, then another, until a cone of ever-present, grey-black energy surrounded Kami, making him nothing more than a few lighter smudges in a sea of black. Shenron's giant form drew back from the Lookout.

'SHEEENROOON!' Kami cried out, his voice anguished beyond comprehension. 'ANSWER ME MY WISH- WHAT IS IT THAT AILS ME?!'

'IT…' Shenron's eyes began to glow red. '... IT SHALL BE DONE.'

A single second- but what felt much longer- passed before Shenron spoke again. 'YOU, KAMI, ARE… AFFLICTED,' he said in an uncharacteristically uncertain voice. 'IT WOULD SEEM THAT, FROM DEATH, A BEING HAS BESET YOU WITH… SOMETHING. I AM SORRY. I DO NOT KNOW ANY MORE THAN THAT.'

'BLESSED KNOWLEDGE!' The cone surrounding Kami expanded, ripping into the Lookout and tearing chunks of it out of existence. An inferno of ki, fire, and electricity now raged, spinning and scorching white tiles black and shooting out into the space surrounding the Lookout like a hundred thousand tendrils. 'AND SO I NOW KNOW WHAT TO DO! I- SAKE- aaaag- kzzzzz-'

The mania, the pure, unrestrained madness tapered off into a single point; the wish, when spoken, was uttered quiet enough that no regular being could have ever heard it through the bands of discord that wove through the air around Kami. Shenron, however, was no regular being. His eyes glowed.

'IT SHALL BE DONE.'

0o0o0

In a brown and flat plot of land, on a planet depraved enough to not realize how depraved it was, a wind blew across the surface, touching not a single living thing as it traveled across the cold, inhospitable ground.

A second wind blew through the area in the next instant; this one rolled over thin, almost dreamlike lines stretching down to the ground, and finished its pass across fabric and ceramic.

A third wind, as strong and harsh as the ones before, was denied; a wave of a hand dispersed it as easily as it had come.

Bardock examined his hand as he lowered it. 'It's back,' he mumbled. He flexed his hand and shaped his pointer finger into a point; pink ki blossomed into a tiny ball at its tip. 'It's all back.' He chuckled, shaking his head. 'I'll be damned.'

'He came through,' a voice said from behind. He turned, and saw Kakarot testing his body in a similar manner as he had done. 'No more halos- no joke,' he said, swinging his hand above his head.

'Shame we don't have scouters, or any good armor.' Bardock probed the old, discolored armor he wore; he definitely didn't remember it looking this bad in Hell. Though… now that I'm looking at it… this reminds me a lot more of what it looked like when I died.

Bardock, savoring the cool feeling of real air in his lungs, realized how much had changed since he had last walked among the living. Raditz was no longer an impulsive, sometimes bratty kid- wherever he was, he was a fully grown man, and if Kakarot was to be believed, had stayed in the PTO and committed himself to the same life Bardock had. It was likely that, the next time they met, they would have a lot of shared, ugly experiences to talk about.

Gine wouldn't have wanted that life for him. She never shared my ambivalence.

A lot was different then.

'I don't think he's around,' Kakarot said, pulling Bardock's attention back to the present. His son was scanning their surroundings. 'Guess that guy didn't want us to be involved with whatever he's doing.'

'Guess so,' Bardock said evenly, staring at Kakarot. He had never been a good parent, but, well, he figured now would be the right time to remind himself to be one.

Bardock stepped forward and smacked the back of Kakarot's head- hard enough to stagger him, but not enough to knock him over.

Kakarot caught himself and spun on his heel. 'Ow!' he groaned, glaring at Bardock. 'What was-'

'Never speak so casually to someone like that again,' Bardock said through clenched teeth. 'That comment you pulled back there- it could have gotten us killed if we were dealing with the right person, and I don't think either one of us wants to go back to where we just were anytime soon. Got it?'

Their gazes locked on each other. Finally, Kakarot's mouth started squirming, and his face shrunk. 'Sorry,' he said, looking down at the ground.

'Good enough.' With visible effort, Bardock calmed himself. He hadn't actually expected to get that angry on command. Guess there are some things you can't unlearn.

'What now, then?' Kakarot asked.

Bardock surveyed the area. In the far, far distance… he could make out light glowing on the horizon. 'Now,' he said, setting off in that direction. Kakarot fell in behind. 'We get a ship and scour the galaxy, top-to-bottom. Raditz is out there somewhere. And,' he stopped, and turned back to Kakarot. 'I'd put good money he's still on that planet you mentioned- what was it?'

'Earth,' Kakarot answered, his voice strained. 'You know it's not just "that planet" to me, Dad.'

Bardock turned away and resumed walking. 'Yes,' he said dismissively, 'you've made that clear. Though, of course, we need to find the damn thing first before any of that matters. Could take a while…'

Kakarot stopped. He cast his gaze to the distant light. 'What's the wider galaxy like?'

When Bardock turned to him, his face was awash with a kind of private joy. 'Full of killers,' he said, grinning, 'just like your old man. So it's lucky for us that I know what makes them tick.'

'Meaning?'

'Let me worry about finding scouters and a ship. You just watch and learn, son.'

0o0o0

At the opposite end of the galaxy, on an even more desolate and bleak planet, the air moved by inches… until an appearance blasted the land apart.

The green, dark-skinned Namekian, tall and muscled enough to dwarf anyone else of his kind, took a deep, indulgent breath and lowered their arms. Energy danced at his fingertips, shimmering and stalwart, like a river marching to the beat of his heart. The land, the air; it all pestered him to be molded, and for the first time in centuries, he could and would do so.

'And that is done.' Katas tipped his head to the black, starless night sky, and with the slightest twitch, moved his antenna up and down. 'Earth,' he said, palming the word in his mouth. 'That is where they are…'


A/N: Hey all; I experimented with how I wrote this chapter. Give your thoughts with a review! I think it came out… okay!

ALLLLSSOOOOO… this chapter was the culmination of a lot of experimenting I did with the story of this fic. Suffice to say that nothing remotely similar in canon happens here. If you've been reading closely, however, this is an extension of a lot of things I've been talking about rotundly in this fic so far… the dragonballs' capabilities, the Namekians' history, the nature of the link between certain Namekians, and what impacts that...

And, of course, there is more lore to come. Next chapter may be a bit of an information dumping ground for the present gaps… but all in good time. Answers are coming soon!

Reviews:

Luke: Zarbon had a lot of things coming to him- if the universe was fair, it'd probably be a lot of good and bad. Definitely the bad first, though.

TienFan99: Zarbon kicked off A LOT. Also caused Frieza's fall from grace. So… pretty impactful stuff there, dude! Certainly better than Ginyu.

He was… good… and bad? But, see my previous comment; he probably deserved bad before good.

Gotta keep that character count under control… especially when I'm faced with the problem where I like all the characters I write too much to kill them most of the time… uhh… this chapter may have violated that rule. There's a difference between active and inactive characters, though!

Yeah… how would Ginyu respond to that?

This chapter went into that question a bit; Krillin, basically, hasn't been doing any training, nor has he been focused on anything except being useful in ways he can conceptualize (chatting with Ginyu and Recoome) or trying to support Rayne and Marron. And, considering that he's been struggling with most of that… his mind hasn't been in the right place to train.

Also an issue where the only other person who knows about the Kaioken, Piccolo, isn't exactly egging him on to teach it to everyone else…

Trying my best with keeping it up! There was pretty much no way that I'd get this chapter out a week after the last one… but, tentatively, I want to say that'll change for next chapter. Stay tuned!

Guest: Zarbon seems very dead.

I wasn't aware of how unconventional having Cooler in control of the PTO was. I always liked the concept in theory, though, so, here we are.

This story has got a ways to go! I'm in it for the long haul! Also, fun fact; I started in DB because to make this fic as divergent from canon as I wanted it, I needed to get some big changes in play before we even hit DBZ.

Perfect Carnage: Yeah, I checked around; almost no fics have Cooler in charge instead of Frieza for a significant amount of time! I guess it's got something to do with how defeating the Arcosians/Cold's Clan/ Frost Demons/ whatever is a significant milestone for the Saiyans once they go Super. But, because this fic has no obvious Super Saiyans coming anytime soon… that's not going to happen as quick.

KagariAsuha: I love the Chi-Chi moments too! There will be more of them, for sure.

Titanfire999: She's trying her hardest!- to mixed success.

Cityracer: Bulma's always a person of action. Bez, sadly, has to deal with that.

I totally agree with (and really enjoy!) your analogy; Frieza is pretty obvious and upfront in the ways he's terrible, Cooler is less terrible, but still obvious, and does a noticeably bad job of disguising it. King Cold, though? If you squint… yeah, he seems like a nice guy. He's like the perversion of that person who likes to sit back and be entertained by others… coupled with an extreme malicious and satisfaction at seeing the people around him fail.

Yajirobe can do many things if given the chance (forced), I'm sure.

Yeah- you're spot on in what you're saying about power levels. If someone is twice as strong as me, that doesn't translate 1:1 into our respective odds in a fight (i.e., that person probably beats me 95% of the time instead of a 66/33 split you might expect by just comparing our strength side-by-side). It's the same thing with group fights and many weaker fighters fighting a single, stronger opponent- cumulatively, the total power on the group side is more than the other, but because that power is spread around different opponents, and a fight gets exponentially harder to win for every tick of power that separates you from your opponent, those fights end up being pretty balanced.

Yeah… the dragonballs got yeeted this chapter.

Yamcha's found something else- for now.