Echoes
Chapter 71: Crimes of a Different People
The darkened storeroom, filled to the brim with dusty trinkets of Guardians long gone, was as good a spot as any to find some privacy. With a sigh, Piccolo sat back against a wall and pinched his nose.
He wondered whether there was any point to this. He alone had witnessed the climax of the catastrophe that threw Kami into a coma and had obliterated a third of the Lookout; he had witnessed a black tide, snarling and howling like a mass of living shadows, rush out alongside the flare of the light that dismissed Shenron. Kami, suspended in the air by a cone of whirring black energy, exploded outward as the dragonballs show away, shearing away layer upon layer of the Lookout.
Even now, if Piccolo listened, he could hear the wind whistling through the cracked remains of the room's ceiling above him. The ramifications of that day seemed to follow him wherever he went, was within him; there had been a small but distinct drop in his power once Kami was incapacitated. Now, tied to someone like that…
Sighing again, Piccolo shut his eyes and let his head fall into his hands. No one had any idea what had happened. Korin, they learned, was strung out in his tower and was in the dark. Mr. Popo spoke of what was troubling Kami, but that didn't help to explain what had happened or why. And how could they figure anything out by working backward? The dragonballs were stone, scattered to the wind, and the only person present for whatever was wished for might not talk again in this life. The humans could spend a lifetime studying what happened and get nowhere.
Which made his present predicament significantly trickier. He had a theory. And while the others crowded uselessly around Kami, he was busy refining it.
With what I saw, what I felt, and what I know… hmm…
He, of course, had nothing concrete. He was patching together scraps, if he was doing anything at all. But he certainly knew more than anyone else had or ever would have.
So he wondered whether there was any point in sequestering himself in a dark room to think. He couldn't think of any good reason to share his thoughts with others- the thought of even doing so made his stomach turn. As much as he had fought alongside the others in the past year and a half, this did not make them his allies, nor, did he think, make the parallel case true. There was too much… history… between them.
Why am I here, then? Crafting an explanation for myself- to what end? So I can be smug when the world burns down around me?
Piccolo opened his eyes, focused them on a darkened space above the door. He knew the humans well- too well. He would leave to resume his training soon, and during that time, they would remain up here, dawdling over someone they could not help or fix. Precious time- wasted.
Time they should know not to squander. With everything happening and happened-
Piccolo caught his breath and hissed. They wouldn't know, would they? And, without a push-
He stood.
0o0o0
Kami's sick room had been converted from the central chamber of the Lookout; this wasn't done for reasons of care or comfort- most of the central chamber had been torn away by the blast that had nearly killed Kami, and was exposed to the sky- but for everyone's safety. Engorged purple veins ran up and down Kami's body, and coupled with the sheen of sweat that covered his sickly, pale-green appearance, no one felt comfortable being closer than five feet to him.
Mr. Popo was the exception to this; they were the exception to everything. While the others looked on with thinly disguised distress, Mr. Popo went about pulling in a bed, stuffing the room with pillows and linens, and throwing a tarp over the Guardian with a considerate expression on their face.
If Krillin was being honest, it upset him. How were they being so brave in the face of… all this?
His gaze traveled around the room- around its parts that were still intact, at least. All of this destruction had been unleashed by Kami, Shenron, the dragonballs, or some combination of the three. They still had no idea as to what had happened; Mr. Popo could be caring for a ticking time bomb, for all they knew.
And if Krillin was being even more honest- questioning Mr. Popo's sanity was a necessary distraction. Piccolo had confirmed the fact he had dreaded hearing. With whatever had happened with Kami, Shenron had been summoned and used. It would be another year before they had another chance to use the dragonballs to swap his and Ginyu's body. And that was if Kami survived that long.
'You need something to lean on?'
Krillin turned. Behind him, Bulma had her arms open to hug. In fact, everyone present- Tien, Yamcha, Chi-Chi, Retu, Launch, Suno, Chiaotzu, Yajirobe, and Korin, all arranged in a rough circle around Kami's bed and Mr. Popo's doting- had some amount of sympathy pointed in his direction. This had been on their minds as well.
'I'm fine,' Krillin said reflexively. He didn't want to break down- not here. If anything, he didn't want to distract from the real issue here. This body isn't going to die on me anytime soon… sadly.
'You don't have to lie,' Launch said bluntly, arms crossed. 'If you need a hug… someone will give it to you,' she finished, looking away.
'I'm as fine as everyone else,' Krillin insisted, finding some confidence in his voice. 'Which is to say, not fine at all.'
'On that, we're agreed,' Korin said in a dark voice.
'Things could be worse,' Yajirobe muttered at his side.
Korin's fur rippled. 'How could this be worse?' he stressed, his whispers jostling. 'How could this possibly be worse?'
'Dunno,' Yajirobe muttered, his eyes avoiding Korin. 'Just… they could, probably.'
'We could be dead,' Chiaotzu spoke up. 'There's always that.'
'More importantly, Kami could be dead,' Suno said. 'And without Kami… you know how that finishes.'
'And if you combine the two,' Retu said with a morose smile, 'everyone is dead and no one can be revived.' He glanced at Korin and Yajirobe. 'That would probably be the worst-case scenario.'
Korin tightened his grip on his staff. 'Yeah,' he said curtly. 'It probably would.'
'Jeez,' Bulma murmured, 'that's a rough probably.'
Retu frowned. 'Yeah,' he agreed. 'It prob-'
Bulma shot a look at him; he quieted. Suno, closest to Retu, whispered something in his ear and tentatively patted him on the back.
'You know,' Chi-Chi said aloud as if she was voicing a thought, 'it might be a good idea to check- really check- if the dragonballs were used. None of us except Piccolo saw Shenron with Kami.' She clutched one arm with the other. 'I mean… for all we know…'
'You think he caused this?' Suno said, skepticism bleeding through her voice. 'I dunno, Chi-Chi…' she glanced past a ruined half wall and saw the gaping maw that now resided at the Lookout's center. 'This is a lot for him to do…'
'I don't think he did all of this,' Chi-Chi argued. 'But I'm honestly wondering- do we want to start trusting Piccolo blindly now, at this time and place?'
'We could always ask him- press him for more details,' Yamcha said. His gaze swung right. 'Tien?'
The person in question was busy scanning the room. 'Do any of you know where Piccolo disappeared off to?' he asked.
'Right here.'
Tien jumped- a few feet into the air, actually- and swung around. 'Wha- Wher- don't sneak up on me again!' he landed, fuming. 'Or I'll-'
His gaze had been centered on Piccolo's face; something made him pause. Krillin glanced over and saw what had stopped Tien. Piccolo's expression looked stuck between placidness and intense focus. It did not look weak.
'All of you-' his gaze swept the room, '-are to come with me.' His gaze shot to Korin. 'Do you know how to use the Pendulum Room?'
Korin flinched when Piccolo laid his eyes on him. 'Uh- yes, yes I do.'
'Good,' he spun, his cape swirling in the air behind him. 'I'll need you to do something for me.'
'Hold on,' Krillin said, halting Piccolo mid-stride. His eyes narrowed. 'What's going on? Why the Pendulum Room?'
Over his shoulder, Piccolo stared back at him. 'Kami took you there once, did he not?'
'He did.'
'Then you know what I want to do.' He turned away and resumed walking. 'Come.'
His cape followed him, turning a corner into a hallway and disappearing with a flourish.
Instinctually, Krillin felt everyone's attention fall on him. 'Krillin,' Yamcha said carefully, 'can you translate that for us?'
'If I had to guess...?' Krillin scratched his neck. 'I'd say he's going to explain what happened.'
0o0o0
They were submerged in darkness, without any idea of what direction they had entered from, when Piccolo spoke to them.
'When are you planning on informing them about this place, Korin?' Piccolo said, his voice echoing unnaturally in what seemed to be a wall-less, gloomy room. 'The stipulations, specifically,' he emphasized, his voice a bit sharper.
'Right!' Korin said quickly. 'Right… well, in the Pendulum room, there are a few rules you have to follow. We will arrive in a circle- the room's center- very soon. Once inside this circle, you are not to step out of it. Otherwise- I could lose you.'
'What's the importance of the circle, exactly?' Yamcha asked, nervousness coloring the edges of his voice. 'How would you… lose us?'
'The circle acts as a giant teleportation matrix,' Korin explained. 'While you're inside the circle, you'll be where I put you… once outside, you're stuck in that half-real realm.'
In the back of the group, Launch elbowed Tien. 'Told ya so,' she mimed.
'Where exactly are you putting us?' Retu piped up.
'We're here,' Piccolo said, cutting through their chatter. He stepped to the side and revealed a large circle, outlined with red gouges in the black floor. It reminded Krillin of...
'It looks vaguely… Satanic,' he said.
'Satanic?' Launch repeated. 'What that?'
'Are you talking about the wrestler, Krillin?' Bulma asked, tilting his head.
'No,' Krillin waved his hands, 'Satan is a deity- an evil deity, to be precise. He's a part of this religion-'
'Pretty sure I know a wrestler named Satan…' Bulma said, tapping her chin. 'Yeah… one time, when I was out east…'
'Well, Satan could be a wrestler and a deity!' Krillin argued. 'Ever thought of that?'
'Shut up!' Piccolo snapped, 'all of you!' His eyes fell on Korin. 'Come over here,' he said briskly, 'and extend your head.'
Korin gulped, and looked to the others for support. 'My… head?'
'I need to share with you my memories… or my knowledge, more accurately,' he growled. 'How else would you be able to put them where I want you to?'
'Ahh,' Korin said, his mouth dry. 'That makes sense.' He glanced at the others again. 'So I'm just going to walk over there… and extend my head.'
Piccolo waited, foot tapping. 'Okay… here I am, with my head,' Korin said, stopping just short of the Namekian. 'Go… ahead.'
Piccolo made a noise of disgust and placed his hand on Korin's head. It took less than a second for the cat to step back, blinking.
'Oh,' Korin said, his voice cool. 'Okay. That was a lot to throw at me.'
'Can you do it?'
His attention was fixed on a spot on the floor. 'Yes,' he answered, nodding slightly. 'I think I can.'
'Then let's proceed,' Piccolo said, stepping into the red circle. 'Come,' he said, beckoning everyone else over.
This time around, the others looked at Korin for support- he gave them an emphatic nod.
'You're in good hands,' he reassured them as they finished filling the circle. To get everyone in, they squeezed Piccolo into the middle. The Namekian did nothing to disguise how uncomfortable this made him, but with a wave of his free hand, he gave his final blessing to Korin.
'Okay,' Korin said, concentrating. He always found that operating this place was more art than science. Just gotta get this right… okay...
'See you all soon.' He tapped his staff to the floor; when the sound from that finished echoing through the chamber, they were gone.
0o0o0
A surge of pressure pressed down on him, voiding the darkened room of shape and color, and with images blurring past him, and his very being being squished-
And he was hovering above- high above a green-and-blue landscape. Green and blue… Krillin studied the land, picked apart those two colors, identified seas, fields of grass…
It was Namek; there was no doubt in his mind. If it weren't for the sprawling mass of gleaming white buildings, stretching across the land for as far as Krillin could see, he would have expected Ginyu and his goons to pop out. Familiar, but...
'Where am I?...'
'With us all,' a voice replied.
Krillin turned- or, he tried to, because he realized he couldn't actually find his body. 'Where-'
'Did you forget where we are?' the voice Krillin identified as Piccolo's said, irritated. 'We haven't left the Pendulum Room.'
He glanced around, saw no one else… and… if he thought about sticking out his arm…
'Don't do that!' Piccolowarned, halting Krillin. 'Don't move at all! Our bodies are still jammed together on the circle- if you try to lift your arms here, you might push someone off!'
'Yeah, but- where is everyone?'
'Around, but silenced,' Piccolo answered. 'As I intended. It'll be easier to explain everything if no one talks. So... I do not know why you can speak,' he added, disgruntled.
'Well…' Krillin trailed off, unsure of what to say.
'Just… promise to be quiet,' Piccolo said quietly.
Krillin detected… pleading? He looked back towards the ground; he could now see Namekians, throngs of them, weaving in and out and between the shining white buildings like snakes.
'Okay…' Krillin said eventually. 'I can do that. One question, though...' Krillin cast his gaze back to the ground. 'This is Namek, right?'
'We are not there in truth,' Piccolo's voice said, gliding over him. 'Nor is this in the Namek you know. We are in an approximation of Namek from a different time… drawn from my memories.'
'And how would you have memories of this?' Krillin asked. 'You weren't alive then… not you, not your father, and not Kami.'
'None of us were- not even the being Kami and I split from. Though…' Piccolo's voice, like a spotlight, drew his attention to a small, squat and white building. It was no more remarkable or notable than its many neighbors. 'Before we left Namek, Moori bestowed onto me knowledge… who, in turn, he had received from another…'
The air around them shifted. 'Another?' Krillin asked.
Before he could get his answer, their perch in the sky morphed into white walls and slabs. A set of stone steps, climbing gently into the room's center, preceded a simple throne, nothing more than roughly hewn rock rising out of the floor.
In that throne, flanked to his left and right by a score of older Namekians dressed in long flowing robes, a formidable Namekian- if his size and musculature were anything to judge by- sat upright in simple, short-cut footwear and clothing and had his eyes thrown to the steps. Krillin only realized that this Namekian was looking at someone when those eyes narrowed with telltale distrust.
'Be quiet now,' Piccolo urged him.
'So you press war?' the seated Namekian said.
Krillin's attention moved to the steps- on it, three Namekians knelt in a line, their heads nearly touching the floor. 'We press aggression,' the one on the left said, his head lifting a fraction, 'to make sure they can never raise a hand against us again.'
'To discourage them from even approaching us,' the one on the right said.
'To safeguard our people,' the one in the center finished. He, unlike the others, lifted his head and stared head-on at the seated Namekian. 'Is that not our task as your servants, for do you not serve the entire Namekian race?'
Something in the pleading Namekian's face, hard lines sketching a young face old, struck Krillin.
'I do not think you ever met him,' Piccolo's voice, cool as a breeze, floated over to him. 'Though some of the others did.'
Piccolo, translucent like a ghost, appeared behind the three kneeling Namekians. In conjunction, the scene around them froze in place. 'We are in the hall of Grand Warrior Veras and his Council of Elders,' he said, drawing Krillin's attention back to the seated Namekian and the cloaked figures surrounding him. 'In this time, these were the two pillars of Namekian society- the Grand Warrior led and fought on behalf of all Namekians, and was advised by the Council of Elders on how to go about doing that.'
The room around them wavered briefly. 'They presided over Namek at its peak,' Piccolo went on. 'What you saw outside was a Namekian city, teaming with life, and was one of many such places that existed on Namek at this time. For centuries, the Namekians were as numerous as the ajisa trees they shared this planet with, but…' The scene around them began to lurch into motion. 'Nothing can remain the same forever.'
An impact- the sound of a fist smashing into rock, shook the room, startling the three kneeling Namekians. 'You speak on behalf of me?' Veras said, lifting his arm from a demolished armrest. 'You think that you know better than the elders?' he asked, sweeping his arms to his left and right. The council, even though indicated, did not react in the slightest underneath their drawn hoods.
'It is not for you three to decide these things,' Veras said, his voice quieting. 'You are young; you see solutions where they see pitfalls.'
The leftmost Namekian raised their head. His eyes were burning. 'It has been months since the last attack,' he said quickly. 'And in those months, they could have-'
'It has been months,' Veras agreed. 'Months of silence after an assault where their forces were slaughtered. What you three urge- to leave this planet like no other Namekian has done before, leading an army, and attack the home of these invaders- is grossly disproportionate to what the situation requires.' The skin around Veras's eyes tightened. 'So far, we have responded proportionally- we decimated their attacking army. The Council and I are agreed that this sends a far stronger message than unjustified aggression: we aren't worth the effort of conquering.' Veras settled back in his throne. 'We mind our business, and they mind theirs. Any reasonable person would agree to this.'
The rightmost Namekian lifted their head now. 'But- in war, Grand Warrior, proportionality and rationality-'
'Enough,' Veras rumbled, silencing them. 'You three-' he said, his eyes moving over them from his right to his left, '-you three are to never speak of this with me again.' His gaze pressed down on them. 'Do I make myself clear?'
The three of them, in sync, touched their foreheads to the floor.
'A gesture of acquiescence,' Piccolo's voice said as the scene froze again.
Krillin looked to where he thought Piccolo was. 'Who are they?'
'Now?' Piccolo's voice was edged with wistfulness. 'They are as Veras said- they are nothing more than youths. The ones at the ends train to be warriors in Veras's image, while the center one studies to become an elder when he grows old. But, in the grand scheme of things, they are not significant, and in any other timeline, this event would be passed over, ignored... '
'In any other,' Piccolo repeated, his voice hard. 'But, considering what is to come, we must start here.'
The rest of the room fell away into nothingness, leaving the three kneeling Namekians, frozen and swirling in undefinable darkness. Looking closer, Krillin saw a distinctness in what they wore- the ones at the ends, darker-skinned than anyone else in the room, resembled Veras in their dress, while the third in the center wore the same flowing robes as the elders.
'Remember their names: Slug, Guru, Katas.'
A definite stirring occurred in the air around him. Krillin felt Piccolo turn and address someone he couldn't see. 'The center one is Guru, yes… here he is centuries younger than the one you knew, and it is his memories we now reside in.'
'It is here where my theory begins, for-' Piccolo's attention, as if made real, centered the room on the rightmost Namekian. '-he, Katas, I think, is at the heart of what happened to Kami.'
0o0o0
What was left of the room fell away, but unlike when they first entered the circle, Krillin was aware that he was drifting in a black nothingness. 'Piccolo?'
'One second,' he replied, his voice coming from nowhere. 'An image… here it comes.'
From far off- like a tsunami rushing to the shore- a barrage of color and shapes raced at him, crashed into the space. Frantic motion, colors of blue and purple and red and brown swam together, and once Krillin found his footing, he spotted Veras, standing just before his throne, take a single step down, and a crimson ki blade plunged into his back-
And the image vanished as quickly as it came. 'Veras died to an assassin- a soldier from this empire had disguised himself as an elder, came to Veras's side as was tradition, and stabbed him in the back when he turned away. Then, just as this cowardly act was discovered, the second attack began.'
Another image came rushing at him, far more dynamic and fluid, and at the last second before impact, Krillin realized he was watching an event through someone's eyes.
The green skies of Namek burned red, with smoke and fire rising up, clogging the air and blocking the sun's rays. He saw white buildings turn black from flame, and Namekians, half-dead, half-alive, scurry and crawl for safety in every direction. In the distance, he saw Slug, arms extended and speeding through the air, ram into soldiers, knocking them from their platforms from which they rained energy and ki down onto the planet. Closer by, he saw Katas, breathing ragged, shield a mass of Namekians, nothing more than children, with his burned and broken body.
All around him, Namek was dying.
0o0o0
Before the pure carnage and chest-heaving devastation became too much to look at, the world flashed away and Krillin was returned to his own perspective in the black nothingness.
'The dragonballs did not exist in the same form then,' Piccolo said softly. 'Their power was dispersed among the council of elders. Each elder carried an orange rock and used it as a medium when gathered together to perform wishes. Thus,' Piccolo's tone flattened, 'when most of them died in that surprise assault, the Namekians were left without guidance, and died en masse.'
Another image- a dim-lit room centered around a small wooden table. A dying Namekian, purple blood streaming, was laid on his back. Krillin recognized his loose clothes- he was an elder.
Out of the darkness, a Namekian- Guru- strode over to the table. Old and new wounds were scored into his skin, and with a certain weariness, he laid his hands on the table and hunched over.
'Can it be done?' a voice said from the darkness. Seconds later, Katas, looking just as hammered as Guru, emerged and stopped at the other end of the table. 'Can his power be salvaged?'
Guru cast a despondent look at him. 'He is dying,' he said. The elder's pooling blood touched his fingers; he pulled away that hand. 'You know I am not an elder yet- I cannot do what they do.' he hung his head. 'If we had one here…'
'We don't, Guru,' Katas said, his voice desperate. 'They've been picked off, one-by-one, or taken away.' He leaned over the table and gripped Katas by his robes. 'We only have us,' he said, his face hurting. 'And if we don't do something!...'
His grip loosened and his hand slipped away, dejected. 'Only us…'
Unwilling and unable to face the shadow across from him, Guru appraised something he was much more familiar with; death was taking the elder by inches, slowing his chest and sapping him of blood. He rotated his hand, noted the drying purple blood on his fingertips, and laid it on the elder's chest.
'There was no way that Guru could save this person,' Piccolo said. 'All he could do was be present for his final moments.'
'He did not plan this.'
White light- bright enough to banish the darkness, revealing a horde of other Namekians, all close to death, crowding the edges of the room- erupted from where Guru touched the elder, and enough wild energy raced up Guru's arm and filled his chest that he gasped and stumbled backward, landing hard on the side of his hip. As soon as the blinding light faded, and Katas saw the elder was no longer on the table, he raced over to Guru. 'What-' panting, he extended a hand towards him, '-what the-'
Before his hand touched Guru's skin, the Namekian whacked away his hand- strong enough to shatter bones. 'Aaaagh!' Katas cried, reeling back and cradling his hand with the other. 'Aaagh!'
From the ground, Guru watched Katas sit back on the table and whimper, and slowly, he turned his attention to his own hand. 'I…' he mumbled. 'What was?...'
The scene froze- somehow, Krillin felt he had willed this. 'What happened?'
'Lacking a better word,' Piccolo said in a low voice, 'Guru absorbed the elder.'
Krillin glanced back at the panicked and frantic Namekian, frozen with his fear, laid up on the ground. 'Absorbed?...'
'In his grief, Guru discovered how to collect the council's magic inside himself and him alone… alongside their physical and spiritual power. Katas, as a warrior who trained under Veras, was stronger than Guru- up until this point.' Krillin's attention focused on the pained Namekian halfway on the table. 'And resumed being stronger once he learned this technique.'
'So it's a technique?'
'It is a merging of two Namekian souls into one body,' Piccolo explained. 'And, usually…'
Piccolo grew unusually quiet. Krillin wished he could see what he looked like right now. He waited.
'Usually, if one soul is stronger or more willful than the other… the other soul is totally subsumed. Only in rare, equal cases are truly new souls synthesized.'
'Equal?' Krillin repeated his word of interest. 'Is this technique not consensual?'
'Sometimes,' Piccolo said cryptically. 'Sometimes not. Do you think that dying elder was of an able enough mind to consent to what happened to him?'
More images- of war, death, and somehow, victory, shined at Krillin, showing the Namekians standing proud over what they had saved of their planet. He recognized Katas and Guru- who both looked… different, somehow- standing at the head of a crowd, arms and legs taut as if the battle had just been won… or was still to come.
'Guru drew the power of the dying elders within him, preserving their magic… and Katas did the same for the fallen warriors of Namek. They rose, together.'
Farther back, Krillin recognized Slug, arms crossed, scowling from the front of the crowd at them.
'After the initial stages of the second invasion, and before learning this technique, Slug was the strongest of them all- and he fought by himself for the longest.'
0o0o0
'And what happened once they won?' Krillin asked once the scene had drifted away. 'Were they attacked again?'
'No. They did the attacking.'
Without any warning, Krillin was thrust onto a battlefield, ki flying and bodies falling. Earth spat into the air, rolled and cracked beneath him, and sound- howling, horrible, desperate sound- rang in his mind, drowning out whatever thought he might have had about what he saw. It was a total, visceral experience in the worst way possible.
Somehow, Piccolo's voice cut through this. 'Their ideas validated by the surprise invasion, and now stronger than everyone else due to the technique they shared, Katas, Guru, and Slug were acclaimed as the new leaders of the Namekians. Together, they formed The Triumvirate, and while they did not have a monopoly on strength, they were the first to take the power of a dying warrior so it would not pass out of the war.'
The sounds of battle rushed in as soon as Piccolo's last word was uttered, and from above, Slug dove down to the earth, each arm wrapped around an alien's chest. The ground shook as they impacted, and shot a plume of dirt into the air. Krillin noted how much more muscular he looked.
'The Namekians studied the ships the invaders came in, built their own, and waged war across the invaders' empire. They advanced, world by world.'
'And what came of this?'
'They won,' Piccolo said. Then: 'Perhaps it is good that you can speak. Answering questions in this manner alongside seeing this-' the space around them started shifting again, '-it is probably the best method available to us.'
Another vista- a decidedly alien world, littered with ruined, branching architecture, churned earth, and face-down bodies beneath a sickly green-red sky. In the center of what looked to be a crater, two aliens- one red-skinned, the other yellow-skinned, both with amazingly shaggy manes of hair and suited in the same scuffed and scorched, short, and red-and-black chest-plates- knelt and held up a brown-red staff of wood with both their hands.
'They look familiar,' Krillin said. 'They look similar to… Jeice, actually.'
'They do,' Piccolo agreed after a moment. 'Perhaps this empire was his people's, then. But,' Piccolo said, his shrug carrying through his voice, 'their fate is inconsequential to this story.'
In front of the two kneeling aliens, three figures stood before a mass of Namekians. Their clothes were tarnished, ripped, in some places non-existent- but, beneath this, their skin was unblemished.
'The Namekians did to the invaders as the invaders had tried to do to them- they conquered them.'
The three figures- Katas, Guru, Slug, Krillin recognized- strode forward, and each one laid a hand on the staff and pulled it from the kneeling aliens' grips. It rose into the sky, shielded them from the sun and created a thin line of shade that ran across their faces.
'And, after conquering, they governed.'
0o0o0
As if spurred by Krillin's confusion, the memory blurred away.
'What?' Krillin twisted around. 'Conquered? Governed? Couldn't they've defeated this empire and won a peace without doing any of that?'
The nothingness was undisturbed by his questioning. 'Guru's memories are very particular- he felt that war has a way of changing how people think,' Piccolo said, his voice oddly still. 'Compassion and mercy are replaced by calculation and prudence. Every threat you leave unattended has the potential to become a monstrous evil. So when the war was won, the Namekians did not extend mercy; instead, they regarded their former enemies with suspicion. Above all else, Katas, Guru, and Slug wanted to prevent another war befalling Namek, and the thought of letting the defeated empire collapse in its own time engendered the risk that someone would put it back together- and that was an unacceptable possibility for them. The Namekians had already suffered so much… what sadist would tempt fate to do it again?'
Krillin, stewing with this, remained silent.
'So the Namekians took the reins of what would have surely fallen apart, and kept it together… with themselves at the top, of course.'
Another picture; he saw massive stone-white buildings rising off of Namek's surface, hundreds and hundreds, as if Namek itself was growing roots.
'Empire took hold of Namek. And a new power in the galaxy was born.'
0o0o0
While Krillin was thinking, he returned to a familiar black nothingness. It seemed that Piccolo waited to hear what he had to say.
'How long ago was this?' He asked eventually.
'Five centuries, give or take a few decades,' Piccolo answered him from somewhere.
'So this Namekian Empire must have existed for a long time, then.'
'. . .'
'It didn't?'
'Namekian society was never geared towards holding together an interstellar state,' Piccolo answered, 'Nor, as it turned out, were its people.'
Krillin tried to remember what he saw at the very beginning; Namek before the attack. 'They were mostly farmers,' he said, remembering the rolling fields that stretched to the horizon. 'Just like the Namekians we met. They would have been unprepared.'
'It goes beyond that,' Piccolo said, his voice low. 'Guru spent many years studying the other alien species in the galaxy. He found that, more than any other species, Namekians were molded by factors surrounding their creation and upbringing.' He paused. 'It might have something to do with how we are created- a Namekian gives up part of his life-force to create another Namekian. What someone intends to pass on- good, bad, or misinformed- is usually passed on.'
'Like you and your father?'
The space around him stilled. 'What are you referring to?'
'How you tried to avenge him,' Krillin said. 'You've spoken about this before. He gave you… ideas.'
For a moment Krillin thought Piccolo would shut down and call the whole thing off, but-
'More like compulsions,' Piccolo said slowly. 'Things I felt pulled to do… and I am only sharing this because it is relevant,' he added, indignation fueling his words. Was Piccolo embarrassed?
'Namekians can pass on what they wish to their children,' Piccolo continued after a second, 'and even then, they have to be… cared for, like a sapling or a flower. With proper care, they flourish. Without that…'
As Piccolo's words fell away, color and shape flooded in, surrounding Krillin with dancing, sprinting images. He saw the white gleaming buildings of Namek- tall like trees of rock- slowly grow crooked and tarnished, stained from years of use and neglect. He saw the air grow thicker and darker, sticking to the surface of all things like a perpetual smog. He saw fields grow barren, lakes and seas turn green and yellow and black, and trees wilt. He saw Namek die.
'Kami saw all this?'
'He did not,' Piccolo answered him. 'He was too busy ruling.'
0o0o0
'So he ruled, then,'
'They all ruled,' Piccolo's voice drew Krillin away from this scene of decay. 'For decades, they patrolled their empire, fighting battles and expanding borders when necessary.'
'Necessary?'
'Namekians only took over this empire for fear that another empire would rise and attack them. So it is only natural that whenever they encountered a potential rival, they attacked preemptively and absorbed it.'
'They sound more and more like the PTO…'
'The organization that attacked us on Namek?'
'That's the one.'
The air shifted around Krillin. 'I have another theory to show you…'
Another time, place- he was on a brown, barren world, littered with jagged mesas and dipping gorges. No signs of anything ever having lived here.
'Turn around.'
Krillin did so. A camp- what reminded Krillin of one, anyway, because the odd pleated shapes and cold colors of the area resembled nothing that he'd find on Earth- was set-up on top of a flatter-than-usual mesa, commanding a high-up view of the surrounding area. In the center of this camp, conspicuously, there was nothing else except a metal table with three metal chairs seated under it.
'Where are we?' Krillin asked, his eyes skipping around.
'A neutral ground.'
Three figures strode to the table in sync- two approached with a smaller person at their side, while the third was alone. Three Namekians- but they were…
'They're huge,' Krillin uttered. 'Compared to the people beside them, anyway.'
'Namekians grow larger with every Namekian they absorb.'
Krillin spun his head in the direction he had heard Piccolo's voice from. 'What?'
'You two haven't changed much,' a throaty voice cut across Krillin's thoughts. When he turned back to the camp, he found that he was standing right next to the table. He could recognize them now; Katas, Guru, and Slug were seated at the table, each one grown out of their youth, each one far, far larger than Krillin remembered.
Slug's eyes shot between the Namekians that stood behind Katas and Guru respectively. 'And who are these whelps?' Slug said.
The Namekian behind Guru returned Slug's ravenous look with a glare. He looked to be of a similar age to Guru.
'Do not bother my companion, please,' Guru said in a tight voice. 'He is simply here to listen and observe.'
'And, you Katas?' Slug whipped his head to the other third of the table. 'Is yours here to do the same?'
The Namekian behind Katas was younger- young enough, in fact, to be a very odd presence at what Krillin increasingly recognized was a war camp. 'He will bother no one,' Katas said, his dark-green skin wrinkling with a gentle smile.
'So yes?' Slug growled. 'The answer to my question is yes?'
Katas gave him a knowing, almost condescending look.
'This is nothing like how they acted with each other before,' Krillin commented.
'Fifty years is a long time,' Piccolo said. 'Its passage will change a lot of things.'
'Quit wasting our time, Slug,' Guru said, his voice sharp as if he had witnessed this a thousand times before. 'I would prefer to leave this planet before the sun sets.'
Slowly, Slug turned back to Katas. 'You will not be able to return to your space as quick as you may think.'
'Changes things like what?'
'They ruled one empire in name only. In reality, they met as little as possible and kept as much as they could for themselves.' Piccolo paused. 'They… changed.'
'Stop prevaricating, Slug!' Guru shouted, denting the table with his fist. 'You said this was an emergency!'
Slug raised a hand, motioning Guru to stop. 'Yes… yes, I did,' he said. 'Can you blame me for being thrown off by your new escorts, though?' he said, back to gaping beyond the table. 'It's not like you two to keep others so close at hand…'
This time, Slug got no reaction; tight-lipped Guru held his tongue in check, while Katas fixed a relaxed, eerily patient expression on him.
Slug grimaced to his left, then to his right, and laid his eyes on the table. 'Fine,' he spat. 'I called you here to discuss an issue of mine- of ours, if given enough time to rot.'
'What's it this time?' Katas said, flashing his teeth. 'Another Namekian runaway?'
'Runaway?' Krillin asked.
'Namekians began to turn on each other-' Piccolo said, his voice narrating without giving away anything of what he felt, '-and these three. One of the many reasons why they grew so large… they absorbed whoever resisted them.'
'From the beginning?'
'No.'
'A prickly planet,' Slug grated, 'with as stubborn a defense as I've seen in decades. My initial force made progress until a single warrior wiped them out. Wiped out the second and third, too.'
Guru fidgeted in his seat. 'Does this warrior have a name?'
'He styled himself Lord Frost of Arcosia.'
'Krillin,' Piccolo said lightly, 'do you remember the person Ginyu prattled on about? His master?'
'You're talking about… what was his name… Frieza, right?'
'I believe this Lord Frost to be an ancestor of Lord Frieza.'
'You know this for sure?'
'I suspect it.'
'Why?'
'You will see for yourself.'
'...If what you say is true... ' Krillin thought for a moment. 'They're talking about what became the PTO, then?'
'That's what I think, yes.'
'Names do not concern me, Slug,' Katas said, grin unerring, with a dismissive wave of his hand. 'What does concern me, however, is the obvious fear in your voice.'
'Nothing of the sort!' Slug yelled, flustered. 'I could rip this puny lord's head from his shoulders if I wanted to!'
Katas leaned back- though, pointedly, not due to Slug's outburst.
'I only wish' Slug said slowly, forcing his tone back to normal, 'to inform you three of my intent to do so, and give you a chance to accompany me.' He fixed a look on them. 'It would serve your purposes to be present when the strongest challenge to face our empire in decades is struck down.'
Krillin studied the expression on Slug's face. Cocky- but not easy. 'Is he lying? Was he afraid?'
'Guru thought he was.' Abruptly, the scene was swept away by a black tide. 'But Guru also agreed with Slug's logic. What was good for one of them would be good for all of them. And what would be bad for one of them would be bad for all of them. So they agreed to help him. Or, rather, they agreed to help themselves.'
0o0o0
Krillin expected to be yanked to the nothingness again- instead, however, he reappeared at the same camp- mostly deconstructed, but still present in pieces, near the end of a day. Not a single Namekian was present. Their focus moved to, stopped at, and passed into a small tent. Inside, Guru, hunching over a wooden map etched into a table, peered down oblivious to the dimming light inside.
'They changed in different ways,' Piccolo spoke, cutting through the silence. 'Slug became more aggressive, bold. He acted- and punished- without thinking. Guru became guarded, closed-off, and viewed others as a threat to his power. Because of that, he never used the council's power again after undoing the initial damage done to Namek during the first war. He thought it was too much of a risk.'
Suddenly, the canvas covering the entryway parted.
'And Katas… Guru never decided firmly on what change befell Katas.'
Guru, adorned in a manner reminiscent of Namekian elders long gone, strode into the tent. Slug gave him the smallest turn of his head before glaring back at the table. 'I thought you had left,' he growled.
'I will shortly,' Guru said evenly. 'Before that, though… we must have a word.'
'Of his two fellow rulers, Katas commanded most of Guru's respect- and wariness. Slug was obvious in what he did- he knew power intimately, and applied it immediately. So it was the case that Guru always suspected treachery first from Katas.'
'A word?' Slug mocked, turning to him. 'Always with your words. For may the dead elders forbid that you do anything with your fists.'
'Guru, as strong as he was, never reached the terrifying heights of Katas and Guru's power. Even Katas could not hold a candle to the roar of Slug's ki, which grew more assertive with every passing year.'
Though fidgety, Guru did not cow to Slug's intimidation. 'I offer you a deal,' he said. 'My forces await to ambush Katas en route to Arcosia. I can detain him… but I cannot defeat him without your help.'
An imperious brow ridge rose on Slug's face. 'Is that so? So you've finally woken up to the threat Katas poses?'
'I could never act against one of us without the aid of the other,' Guru admitted. He held out his hand. 'I can see an equal partnership between us two; I cannot envision the same with Katas.'
Slug grinned; he flaunted what he felt- that he lopsidedly benefited from this arrangement- so clearly that Krillin wondered how much of a fool Guru was. This is the face of a person who will kill you once your deal with them is done...
It was obvious- right?
'And neither can I.' Slug extended his hand. 'I agree to this.'
'So, when approached with such a deal… he saw no reason to decline.'
Krillin had but an instant to glimpse the tiny smile on Guru's face before their hands connected; with that touch, a spout of ki, yellow like lightning, erupted from their shake, screeching towards the top of the tent and ripping it asunder. Slug cried, retracted his singed hand, and staggered backward as lightning surrounded him. 'WHAT!?' he roared, kicking up his green-purple aura. 'WHAT IS THIS!?'
His clothes pressed back by the wind, Kami retracted his undamaged hand. 'What serves us.'
'US!?'
Alongside a flash of light, Katas appeared behind Slug and wrapped his arms around the Namekian's chest. 'What must be done,' he breathed, veins bursting and muscles bunching. Slowly, his dark aura began to mix with Slug's. 'What serves us.'
Thrashing in Katas's grip, Slug threw his head and spat in every conceivable direction. 'WEAKLING!' he raged, as Guru, fighting against their combined auras, stepped closer. 'FIGHT ME! FIGHT ME!'
Straining, Katas made sure to amplify his voice so that Slug would hear it. 'I'm not a fool,' he said through gritted teeth. 'We both know I would never win…' he looked over to Guru. 'And Guru could never do this without my help. It takes two to defeat one.'
'NOOOO!' Slug tried wrenching himself out of Katas's grip one more time, Guru's hand inches away from his skin. 'NOOO-'
They vanished.
0o0o0
Krillin had no time to process what he had seen before he was transported to another spot- this time to a ship. Nothing he had ever seen… it was lined, grooved, and segmented, much like a Namekian's skin.
Before him, he saw Katas and Guru, each attended again by their companions, look out on a dusty planet.
'He will remain there until he dies,' Guru said, his voice dying on the ship's walls. 'Only us two would be able to reach this planet so long as the power of the council remains in the galaxy.'
Katas did not turn to him. 'Why us?'
'Because we are strong enough to ignore the magic,' Guru said. 'Or, more accurately, you are stronger than me.'
Whether or not it was intended, the four fell into silence.
'They're talking about Slug?' Krillin asked. 'They didn't kill him?'
'He was too powerful,' Piccolo explained. 'Guru's magic could not outright destroy him. So they settled for the next best option; they removed everyone and everything from the planet he was on- specifically his followers and his ships- and used Guru's power to make it impossible for someone to descend to the planet's surface.'
'Couldn't Guru have done that without Katas's help?'
'He could have,' Piccolo said, 'and, in fact, desired to do this many years before now. But without Katas's approval, and because he was stronger than Guru, he could overcome the council's magic and retrieve Slug if he so wished. So Guru waited.'
'We should arrive at Arcosia within the week,' Katas said, his gaze fixed on the planet. 'Then we shall see what pest disturbed Slug so.'
'. . .'
'Guru?'
'Your son…' Guru said, staring back at the muted, almost ghostal youth behind Katas. 'He's staring at me.'
Casually, Katas turned and looked. 'And,' he turned back, his face a mess of lines from a smile, 'so he is.'
0o0o0
Swirling, shifting- Krillin was starting to feel ill from all this moving.
'Nearly done,' Piccolo spoke into his mind.
They reappeared on what appeared to be an alpine world- tall, spindly trees raced up slopes until the air became too thin and the snow too thick. Flat valleys ran between mountains, weaving an intricate map across the land. Clouds hung low, promising storms and fury and power.
Standing in the foreground to all of this, set apart from a small army behind him, a towering figure stood in a field of short yellow-green grass, arms crossed and brilliant azure cape flapping in the wind behind him. Black-as-night horns, mightier, more magnificent than Ginyu's, shot out from the sides of his head and curved to the sky. His hands resembled that of a human's, but his feet were like a lizard's, and an oddly natural azure carapace covered his white-skinned body from head to toe.
In truth, Krillin wasn't paying attention to any of this, however- instead, he was staring at the extremely familiar white-and-brown chestplate the man wore.
'PTO armor… I'd never forget what that looks like.'
'Keep that in mind,' Piccolo said.
The entrance of two figures from the left side of Krilln's vision pulled him that direction. Without an army behind them, Katas and Guru approached the caped man. There was something… beautiful, and horrible, about watching three immense warriors prepare to fight. It reminded Krillin of that fight in West City against King Piccolo, all those years ago...
He shivered.
'They fought without Slug?' Krillin asked.
The scene pulled away. 'And they would have won, too.'
Same place- but later on. Krillin felt the distant vibrations of a fight rock the very world, each blow threatening to split continents apart. The field of grass was now broken earth and pitted, and the distant mountains resembled dominos about to fall. Farther away, Krillin saw the remains of an army, armor strewn across the ground like discarded toys.
'NAIL!'
Krillin's head whipped around. Immediately before him. Guru, battle-worn, knelt over an even bloodier and more mangled Namekian, hands digging into the ground around him. Purple blood washed over his face and clothes, and sank into the ground. Guru, as distraught as Krillin had ever seen him, gazed down in anguish.
'NAIL!' he repeated, voice breaking, head hung. 'You… you can't die. I need you, Nail…'
Krillin forced himself to keep watching; Piccolo was showing him this for a reason.
'Friend…' Guru's eyes shifted- as if how he viewed Nail, body rapidly expiring, was changing. Alongside grief there arose… something. 'You will not die this way.' A hand lifted, hovered near Nail's skin. 'Because to die-'
Before Guru could finish his sentence, Nail, in an astonishing use of the last remaining drops of his vitality, smashed away Guru's hand. 'Never…' Nail choked, teeth grit, angry tears streaming down the sides of his face and mixing with his blood, 'never do that to me,' he said, voice weakening.
Nail's right arm crashed to the ground across his chest, all strength gone. His eyes began to fade. 'Never…'he repeated. 'Let… me die… this way.'
And he died.
'Nail?' Guru mouthed. Whatever had surged in him receded, leaving raw grief. 'Nail?'
'This is not the Nail we know,' Piccolo, careful in reintroducing himself, said.
'What was he doing here?...' Krillin mumbled.
'He did not trust Katas. And Lord Frost struck him down without a second thought.'
Wiping away his tears- and, it seemed, forcing anger to the front of his face- Guru stood, unwilling to take his eyes off his friend's corpse.
'Absorb enough Namekians and the universe becomes a lonely place,' Piccolo said softly. 'Neither Katas, nor Guru, nor Slug had been back to Namek since leaving for war so many years before- but, even if they had returned, they would not have recognized what they were doing. They were destroying their people.'
A chill ran up Krillin's back. 'How many did Guru absorb?'
'Thousands.'
'Katas?'
'More.'
'Slug?'
'Even more.'
'Were they not creating any new Namekians?'
'Why would they?' Piccolo questioned. 'Every Namekian you create diminishes your strength, your life force. To bring yourself knowingly closer to death… it required either a society at peace with this or individuals who sacrificed for others. Katas, Guru, and Slug, in empowering themselves to defend their society, fundamentally shattered it. First for others… but the method will always corrupt the result. Spend enough time empowering yourself, and you will forget for whom you are doing that for.'
With a flick of his ki, Guru lifted into the sky and flew off.
'It took the death of a friend- a real death, not one erased for the sake of power- for Guru to recognize this.'
0o0o0
'What did he do?'
Uncharacteristically, Piccolo remained silent, and seemed to take a backseat to another unfolding image. Krillin saw snippets of a fight- a fight that, somehow, he was able to watch, even though he was sure it was far, far above his own strength. Lord Frost fought with careful power and presence- Katas, more agile, zipped around and tried to outmaneuver him at every turn. It was a striking dance that, judging from the ground cracking and breaking all around them, was one escalation away from destroying the entire planet. Frost's azure cape had been lost, as had most of his armor and Katas's simple, modest clothes, and both showed signs of wear from a long and punishing fight. Krillin also now noticed a tail thrashing behind Lord Frost; he must have made an effort to keep it calm and collected like himself earlier.
They broke apart, blows pushing each other apart in the air. Katas, his grin dampened by exhaustion, kept his gaze locked on Lord Frost- and began dropping once a scarlet beam of ki drilled through his chest and pierced a nearby mountain.
Higher in the sky, panting, Guru lowered his finger, wisps of smoke trailing from its tip.
'He seized his opportunity to end things.'
Lord Frost glanced down at the falling fighter, threw a knowing look up at Guru, and just as he began to speed down after Katas, the black nothingness rushed in from the memory's edges.
0o0o0
'Almost no Namekians were left in the wider galaxy by then. Those that were had left the Empire, and died lonely deaths on the fringe of space. Guru retreated to the Empire's capital world- the former seat of the old Empire, in fact- and gathered the empire's dignitaries, bureaucrats, governors, and officials.'
A massive fireball lit up the horizon of an alien metropolis.
'He killed them all.'
'What?' Krillin shouted. 'Why- why? With his change of heart-'
'He had returned to his earlier line of thinking- he wanted to protect the Namekians at all cost. But it was now that he realized the wisdom of Grand Warrior Veras; the way to protect the Namekians was to shield them from the wider galaxy, not engage with it,' Piccolo stressed. 'The existence of the Empire, with what it knew of Namek, made it possible that another army might show up one day. Guru wanted…' Piccolo's voice shrunk. '...peace.'
'He regretted what he did for the rest of his life,' Piccolo admitted. 'But he hadn't quite moved past that way of thinking- that of calculation and prudence instead of compassion and mercy. For the rest of his life, he struggled to do that.'
'So I understood why the Namekians did what they did after we fought the PTO on Namek, even if their response initially surprised me. We did them and the universe a great good by fighting their battles for them. But they could never let their presence be known again- not even to us. Not in the galaxy we live in.'
0o0o0
While Piccolo's words still echoed, Krillin's eyes readjusted on a green and blue world- Namek. He saw an image of Guru, kneeling on a small strip of land surrounded by boundless ocean on three sides, draw his hands into claws, touch his forehead to the blue grass, and rake his arms through the dirt.
'He found Namek to be deserted- the last of the Namekians had either died or moved on long before he returned. So,' Piccolo's voice swept their point of view backward. Behind Guru, a ruined town, white slabs broken and thrown to the wayside, hugged the shore. Larger than any village Krillin saw on Namek… and it was utterly abandoned.
'...Guru started anew.'
Krillin watched as Guru examined a hole he had dug. From a pocket, he produced a single seed, palmed into in the earth, and pushed dirt over it.
'He set out recreating Namekian society from scratch, and painstakingly removed the evidence of the old world. He dictated tenets and gave lessons to his children, made absorption a forbidden act, and raised a society of farmers and elders- no warriors, except for one, Nail, who was named after the last good Namekian of the old world.'
Guru stood and cast his gaze to the horizon. Two suns hovered just above the land… and silhouetted a pillar of rock in the distance.
'He separated the council's magic from himself, created Porunga, and dispersed him across seven orange balls, and gave one each to his first seven children, for he never wanted to command that much power ever again.'
Small Namekian children, staring starry-eyed at a huge person carrying gifts...
'He labored for centuries, grew old and frail…' Krillin watched Guru shrink, fatten, and thin before his eyes, 'and was eventually confined to a chair, blind, unable to give any more of his life force beyond that of creating new Namekians.'
Krillin saw something magnificent; he saw a hall, filled to the brim with Namekians passing around ajisa trees, blue leaves, animals of every shape, size, and color. It was a celebration of life.
'He taught the Namekians to care for the world… and, in doing so, they learned to care for themselves.'
Seated in his chair, head tilted back and eyes closed, Guru deepened his greathearted wrinkles and smiled.
0o0o0
'That's the story?' Krillin said once the nothingness returned. 'That's the story of how the Namekians we know today were created?'
'Yes.'
'Well, then…'
'Well, what?'
'How does any of this explain what happened to Kami?'
For a final time, the nothingness began to give way. 'One last memory...'
A ship; a similar ship to the one Krillin saw before. Lined, grooved, and segmented, like Namekian skin. In the center of a rectangular room, a small Namekian youth sat, face devoid of any and all emotion. There was something strikingly familiar to Krillin in the way he held himself still, oblivious or uncaring to the ship blinking around him.
'This ship is that ship, yes,' Piccolo said to someone.
'This… this is the person that was with Katas,' Krillin realized. 'The one at the conference. When is this?'
'At the same time Guru set out recreating Namek,' Piccolo informed him. 'This ship was on a long journey to an unknown destination…'
'Katas said he was his son. Guru didn't kill him?'
'He couldn't, even after he discovered why he existed. So Guru sent him away from his new Namek.'
Krillin stared at the empty, expressionless Namekian. Empty.
'He's a vessel,' Krillin said suddenly. 'Look at him- he has no personality. Devoid of anything… why did Katas create him?'
'To create for himself a tool,' Piccolo said. 'His son existed for one reason and one reason only- to take the power of the council from Katas. To usurp it.'
'How?' Krillin couldn't look away from those soulless eyes.
'Guru never found out. But Katas succeeded, in a way.'
Piccolo paused. 'That Namekian is Katas's son. And Kami and my father were split from him.'
0o0o0
One-by-one, they filtered out of the Pendulum Room, wordless. No one seemed to have much to say about anything. Krillin couldn't tell if it was because they were tired- enough time had passed inside that, somehow, night now basked the Lookout- or if they were still accommodating all the knowledge Piccolo had thrown on them.
Krillin wasn't sure if learning all of it was necessary… but, then again, he believed Piccolo's theory. Kami uses the dragonballs, is incapacitated by the act, and nothing changes on Earth changes. Even though Katas should have been long dead by now, Piccolo felt a familiar, old presence twice: once at King Kai's, and once right before Kami uses the dragonballs. And it made sense that Kami could be affected in such a way, if he split from a person Katas specifically created to control the dragonballs with. Lacking anything else… it's a theory. Can't prove it, but still.
They didn't know much more than that. But it was clear that all this was so outside their realm of expertise that to stick around the Lookout would be a waste of time- especially if, somehow, this Katas person used Shenron's wishes to do… something.
Piccolo suggested that Katas might have revived himself- said it would be consistent with who he was in Guru's memories. If that did happen, however, he wasn't revived on Earth, considering that they couldn't sense anything. So, ignoring the fact that another insanely strong power might be out there in the galaxy right now...
Krillin groaned, and dragged his hand down his face. I don't know what this means… way too much to consider. And they still had no idea whether Kami would ever be okay again… or if the dragonballs would be safe to use anytime soon. If it's possible the same thing could happen in the future-
'Krillin?'
Mid-thought, Krillin halted, and looked over his shoulder. Piccolo's white cowl fluttered in the gloom. 'Can I speak to you before you go?'
Krillin glanced around; everyone else had left. 'What's up?' he asked, turning fully.
'Well…' Piccolo strode over. In the night's glow, his face shimmered. 'I'm going to be blunt with you. You need to get your body back.'
'...What?'
Piccolo glared, as if annoyed by Krillin's reaction. 'I need you back in your original body, training- like you did at King Kai's, remember?' he growled.
Suspicion narrowed Krillin's eyes. 'For what end?'
For a long breath, Piccolo held his. 'You need to share the Kaioken with the others,' he said alongside a heavy sigh.
Krillin stared into Piccolo's eyes. 'I can't,' he said, his voice small. 'I can't-'
'Not in that body, yes,' Piccolo said quickly. 'I understand your reservations. But… I can't accept that you've accepted… this,' he said, eyeing Ginyu's body. 'This is no excuse to languish.'
'You wouldn't understand,' Krillin said, his face jumping between a frown and a sneer. 'To have your body be violated-'
'Actually,' Piccolo said crisply, 'I would know something about that. And let me tell you,' he said, stepping closer and cutting off whatever Krillin was going to say next. 'The galaxy isn't going to wait around for you to get your preferred life back. We have to work with what we're given, because I know our enemies are working with what they have,' Piccolo snarled. He drew back. 'So- get your body back, or make peace with the fact that's never going to happen and move on.'
Piccolo's unexpected aggression, abrupt enough to send the tiniest flicker of ki through Krillin, died down as quickly as it came.
'Either way,' Piccolo said, turning. 'I expect you to be ready to train in a week. I'm going to pull the Kaioken out of you,' he stopped, and looked back at Krillin, 'or you'll die trying.'
And with his footsteps echoing in Krillin's mind, Piccolo disappeared into the gloom.
A/N: Happy Thursday! So, this is the full unload of the Namekian history I concocted for this story. As you can see, I tried to make it interactive and consequential to the larger galaxy's history. This is probably as close as a chapter special as I'll ever write within this story, so… I hope you enjoyed it! Was cool to do something like this.
Next chapter is the end of Echoes. See you then.
Reviews:
KagariAsuha: Thank you for the review and exciting indeed! Though… a question of how far off that Saiyan reunion is right now...
Spades231: Kakarot and Bardock are loose! Watch out, galaxy! Glad you stuck through my story, even if it wasn't your cup of tea! Thank you for the review!
Titanfire999: Lol.
TienFan99: Yep! Hopefully the earlier chapters' foreshadowing is more compelling on a re-read now!
I agree with your thoughts on the Frieza and Cooler fight; I also felt that there wasn't a super compelling reason to make the story so specific and show a fight between two characters we don't necessarily know or care about- especially when the fight is *probably* a foregone conclusion if it's happening in the first place (i.e. Cooler started the fight because he thought he could win)
So you don't think Bardock and Kakarot's revival is bloating the character count? Interesting…
Keeping myself tight-lipped about their power levels right now. Which is to say I haven't thought that hard about theirs, yet, lol.
Type fixed to your recommendation! Thanks for the spot!
You're putting this over Bringer of Death? I just rolled around my head a lot in shock. That's… crazy! Though it probably helps that I update waaaaaay more frequently than npberryhill.
As always, thank you for the review!
Cityracer: Aw shit… here we go again… in a good way, obv :)
I appreciate the honest feedback on Retu and Suno. It's… not my most nimble work, but I am going somewhere with it- and that doesn't necessarily mean they end up in a relationship. Can't give much more away without spoiling; hang with the storyline for a bit.
Also, yeah, it's a small part… lol. Can't get everything right.
I'm suuuuuper excited to explore Yamcha and Gohan's interactions, too! Though it's funny that I think it's more interesting to explore when Gohan is young; but, obviously, he's not going to stay young forever ;)
Totally agree with your approximation of Launch's character- could not have said it better than myself. She bounces between extremes a lot. Also, because that little bit of commentary about "that little green thing" is referential, not foreshadowing, and because I don't plan on mentioning it again:
When Launch was in the pendulum room, she threw a blast of ki through a spatial window. This window was facing Tien and Yamcha's battle against the saibaman when they were Nappa, and because of Launch's attack, the saibaman was momentarily stunned and Tien and Yamcha were able to finish it off with a combined energy attack.
So that little section was a joke to the readers of how Tien and Launch haven't connected the dots that Launch helped Tien and Yamcha out on an impulse.
Piccolo expressed his thoughts from last chapter to Krillin this chapter- get your body back, or stop moping around and accept what you've got. A year is probably a little long for him to not do any training, but in his defense, he was distracted by other things. Also fixed the WMAT numbering issue. Goof on my part!
Many of your questions were, I hoped, answered in this chapter. Bardock and Kakarot will probably get a scene next chapter.. but we'll see. Where they tie into the story on Earth is a little farther down the road, so they might be off-screen for a bit.
I think Bulma could be in a relationship with someone who either A) adores and serves her/ she crushes on or B) respects her and challenges her due to their similar temperaments. Based on that criterion… the most likely that come to mind for A are Zarbon (thinking Break Through the Limit), Goku (kinda… but I could see it if Bulma had met him when he was older and crushed on him from the beginning- she could have pushed him into a relationship, lol), and, if we assume everyone is up for everyone, Chi-Chi. For route B, I could see Raditz- though not sure how is vulnerability compared to Vegeta would play with Bulma. Might make him a hybrid route between A and B.
Thinking about this, I find that there's not a lot of characters like Vegeta in the show, and as a result, there aren't a lot of people who can fill that B role for Bulma easily. Interesting trend...
