Metal

Chapter 81: The Flames Burn Away

A/N: Quick note; someone mentioned in the reviews for last chapter that it'd be a good idea to get a timeline up considering how far off the canon track we are. So, that's at the bottom.

Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter!


Chi-Chi and Yamcha held back, like waves waiting to crash, focus drawn to what Rush had ended his confession on. He had not stopped after telling them that he was an android, nor after revealing that he knew who they were, and intentionally tried to work himself into their inner circle- but after telling them the man who created him was named Dr. Gero. That one word had locked-up Rush like a rusting gear. His hands, as if preserved in perpetuity, were still swaddled by the bedsheets.

I'm an android. I'm strong, but not that strong. When I was made this way, I also learned about all of you. I know where all of you live. Against my will, I know your fighting styles, your background, where you grew up, who you trained under, who you fought, what you do- all of this- I know all of this- because of him. Because the person who did this to me. Who made me an Android. Gero.

'This is…' Yamcha struggled to replay in his mind what Rush said. 'This is all very…'

'Concerning?' Chi-Chi said, catching his gaze.

'Yeah.' He nodded. 'That.'

She held his gaze for a moment. 'Rush,' she said, turning her head back to their guest. The supposed android didn't move. 'Could you give us a moment? We're not going anywhere except down the hall… because Yamcha and I need to talk about this. This is, as you can probably understand, a huge shock to us.'

He didn't stir except for a twitch of his head. 'Sure,' he said without looking up. 'Go.'

Chi-Chi's concern lingered on him for a second. 'Okay.' She glanced again at Yamcha. 'Okay?'

About a minute later, they were at the other end of the hallway outside- and much more animate.

'This is crazy!' Yamcha yelled in a hushed whisper. 'I mean- he was my student-' he shook his head. 'How could I have not known this?'

Chi-Chi's attentive face dipped ever-so-slightly. 'What do you mean, "known"?'

'I mean, what with-'

Yamcha stopped, discerning something in Chi-Chi's expression. 'You… you don't believe him?'

Without breaking off eye contact, Chi-Chi sighed. 'I… I don't know what to believe. It doesn't bode well for his credibility that he chose to admit to all this now… after having known you for months.'

'It's not like he's a very talkative person, though,' Yamcha argued. 'Like I've told you before- I got the feeling that there was something he wasn't telling me, but I didn't want to pry.' He gestured down the hall. 'Well- this is it! And now he's owning up to it!

'You're sure?' Chi-Chi questioned. 'How do you know he's not substituting a lie for the truth?'

'Chi-Chi, he struggled to open up,' Yamcha stressed. 'You saw him in there. He could barely hold himself together through all that- and that's understandable considering what he told us! I mean, live experimentation! Implants? Knowledge pumped into his brain against his will-' Yamcha clenched and unclenched his hands, riding how he felt on Rush's behalf as he spoke. 'I mean- I'm amazed this guy is still sane after everything he said! Because of how distraught he was, we should especially believe what he's saying!'

Over the course of a few drawn-out seconds, Chi-Chi studied Yamcha's posture, expression, tone of voice. It was clear to her that he wasn't thinking clearly. But she also felt the same temptation Yamcha must have been feeling; a seemingly broken person had opened up to them looking for help. A part of her wanted to dive into the same well of emotion Yamcha was tapping; sympathy thick and deep enough to drown in. Still- they had to be rational about this. They only had one chance to really think about this before they returned to Rush and decided on… whatever they were going to decide on.

'Let's think for a moment,' Chi-Chi finally said. 'And I mean really think.' With some difficulty, she calmed Yamcha's fidgeting hands and interlocked them with hers. 'Just… let's be calm, together. Alright? We'll have time to care for him later.'

Yamcha frowned, struggling with the churn surrounding his heart, but he forced his head to dip. 'Alright. What are you thinking?'

Chi-Chi was silent as her eyes studied some spot at the other end of the hall. 'You know… this could be one of the events that time traveler told us about. He was ambiguous- he was ambiguous or reason, right? So this could be one of those events he alluded to.'

'What, exactly?' Yamcha questioned. 'The fact that an android showed up on our doorstep or that someone out there is making more people like him? And- and why would that time traveler have told us about Rush?'

'I don't know,' Chi-Chi muttered, detached from Yamcha 'Could be a lot of things. Maybe he didn't know. Maybe that time traveler isn't from the future at all,' she reminded him. 'But, also… maybe Rush's arrival is a test he wanted us to do on our own.'

'Chi-Chi?'

Her body had angled towards the ground, almost penitent. 'I've thought a little about him since he left,' she said, lifting her gaze to him again. 'I thought a little bit about… well, his world. It was clear that he had grown up among pain and death. I mean- you saw his scar as well as I did. He must have hurt when he was young. Very young.'

'Right… but what are you getting at, Chi?'

'He must have been a survivor… a survivor in a world where the Saiyans came and killed a lot of us and our group of friends split up in the aftermath of that.' She turned him, eyes awash with pity and fear and even a little self-loathing. 'I think we started to distrust each other in that world. I think that was the real death of Krillin, and me, and Tien- the fact that we died for our friends and those who survived broke apart. The fact that those who died against the Saiyans died for nothing.'

Yamcha's heart broke, shards upon shards striking through his torso, at the sight of her. When had she acquired such unimaginable compassion- for those she had never even met, and a man she had only seen from a distance? He wanted nothing more than to hold her until she was okay again.

'I think, that…' Chi-Chi soldiered on, 'if he told us about Rush beforehand, we wouldn't have made the right decision here… we wouldn't have made the right decision to choose trust over distrust. Because- well- that would have sounded insane, right?' She argued. 'That we were supposed to trust someone who came to us like this?'

'I… I guess so,' Yamcha admitted. 'His story is pretty out there.'

'I'm not arguing that we have to universally believe him. But- we should think clearly about what he said, scrutinize him… but, lacking any reason to doubt him…'

'We should trust him,' Yamcha finished for her, nodding. 'Okay. I agree with that.'

'What we do next might save our future- it also might doom it, too. Two sides of the same coin.'

'Whatever we decide,' Yamcha said, meeting her gaze. 'We'll think it through, and we'll decide it together.

0o0o0

For all the good it did- which is to say none, because Rush's head didn't lift from his hands- Yamcha and Chi-Chi knocked on the ajar door before walking back into the room. Without a word, they resumed their previous positions: Chi-Chi standing opposite of Rush, Yamcha sitting next to the bed. They spared a final glance to each other before beginning

'So… you're an Android,' Yamcha said slowly. 'Flesh, blood, and metal. Cool. Cool…'

'We, just, uh…' Chi-Chi, in the face of Rush's silent despondency, sought an encouraging sign from Yamcha. He nodded for her to go on. 'We just have a few… questions, I guess, beyond what you told us.

'...Questions?' At last, Rush peaked his head out from his hands, resting his strong jaw in his palms. His face was still creased with pain. 'What kind?'

'Well, chief one being… what do you remember about becoming an Android?' Chi-Chi asked, her eyes trying to strike a balance between comforting and inquisitive. Because- well- Yamcha has had some run-ins with robots- which, obviously, isn't you- but, ehh-'

Chi-Chi's quickening, panicking speech was halted as Rush's blue eyes met hers, chilling her to silence. Remarkable, piercing, sky-like. None like she'd ever seen before.

'...There's not much that I can remember,' Rush began tentatively. 'I was from a village far to the west, more that way than even West City. My village was small, close-knit- we didn't communicate much with the outside world. I was nothing more than a teenager…' he drew back, placing his hands on the bed behind him, voice richened from the act of remembering old memories. 'I was happy, normal. Years ago…'

'They killed the adults and took the children. I was the oldest to survive. I nearly died that day.' Rush blinked, realizing what he said, words spoken in a clear, flat tone that reminded Chi-Chi of a list being recited. 'That's…' he continued, reassuming his dampened mood, '...huh. I just remembered- all of that. I forgot…'

'I'm sorry,' Yamcha said with a sagging face. He crossed the room and sat next to Rush on the bed. 'Err… you… forgot?...'

Rush placed a hand over the right side of his face, fingertips slightly pressing into his skin. 'It came back… like a wave.'

'What came back?' Chi-Chi questioned, arms folded tight to her chest.

'There was... some kind of base.' Rush rubbed at his eyes, breathed through his mouth. Yamcha noticed beads of sweat glistening on his neck and hairline. 'Where we were all taken… me and the other kids…'

'What base?' Chi-Chi asked. 'Could you describe it?'

'It was big.' Rush paused, either intentionally or unintentionally emphasizing that last fact. 'Dark. Cold. Deep underground we were kept in cramped, dirty cells. We barely had any clothes. We starved.'

Biting his cheek, Yamcha glanced at Chi-Chi. He wasn't exactly comfortable sitting next to Rush, but her look compelled him to stay there. 'What happened to you in that base?' he asked softly, turning back to their guest.

Rush's entire expression had a glazed quality to it, like he was talking more to himself than them. 'Things. We weren't there for long. One day, a man with long gray hair and an oddly stitched vest took us out one-by-one, put us in a line, examined us. For what reason, I'm not… I'm not…'

Rush's right hand came to his chest, resting below his right pec. 'Something… something was put in me. I can't…' His eyes screwed shut. 'I can't…'

Yamcha glanced again at Chi-Chi before speaking. 'Dr. Gero? The man with gray hair? He was the one to put… things inside you, making you an android?'

'I… I don't know. Maybe?' Rush's lifted hand began to wobble like a stake coming loose. 'There's… so much I don't know, don't remember… and the thought of something inside me, it…' he made a pained face. '...the thought of it!...'

Yamcha looked at Rush with a mixture of compassion and… not quite fear, but something close to it. 'You know, Rush, we have a friend who could look at you,' he said carefully. 'To make sure you're okay. She's skilled with machinery and biology…' he held his hand up and slowly moved it towards Rush's broad right shoulder. 'She could-'

'NO!' Rush screamed, jolting away from Yamcha's hand. The covers flipped, flashed into the air, pushed by his abrupt and raging purple ki. 'DON'T TOUCH ME!'

Chi-Chi gasped- Yamcha skidded across the bed, arms raised into a guard on reflex, and banged back-first into the wooden wall behind him. Fibers splintered as his body made a misshapen dent in the wall, the crack just as loud as his grunt, as the room's sole window buckled outward, exploded, and had its glass shards be shot away by the room's dying windstorm. Her hair fluttered in the wind even as faint traces of her aura singed the air around her.

And then it ended. Yamcha lowered his guard and met Rush's shocked and alarmed gaze. They both looked a little terrified.

She didn't need to glance at Yamcha. He rose from the bed and quickly put some distance between him and their guest. 'What was that?' he asked, more guarded than careful now.

'I... ' Rush stared at his hands as if he'd never seen them before. 'I… I don't know.'

Chi-Chi found her voice. 'Do you remember where this village is?'

'I… I'm not sure.'

'Do you remember your family?'

Rush's hands began to shake. 'Please… I don't…'

'How many years ago was this? Where?' Yamcha pressed. 'We need to hear something concrete from you, now, because-'

Chi-Chi calmed Yamcha, and physically drew him back towards her and away from Rush, by grabbing his arm. His face furrowed, like a sharpened shovel getting stuck in dirt, and he let her walk in front of him.

'You sound... conflicted. And, to be honest, not totally well,' Chi-Chi said, trying to be both sensitive and sensible. 'For all we know, and what we just saw… you seem dangerous. My son lives here… my dad, too. If I can't be sure they're going to be safe with you around…'

She stopped herself, unwilling to finish that thought. Judging by Rush's expression- one mediated by grief and clear-eyed recognition- it wasn't necessary. Body dropping, he stood, straightening like a puppet pulled by its strings. 'I understand,' he said, muted. 'I… I wish I could remember more.' Again, he thrust his head into his hands. 'Now… now, all I can see is that symbol, seared into my brain... red… red like… red like eyes…'

Yamcha shifted to Chi-Chi's side, holding her by her shoulders. 'Red eyes…' he murmured. 'Red…' His expression widened, his eyes whitened. 'Rush… did Dr. Gero do this alone? Or- or did he have help?'

'Help?' Rush stared helplessly at him. 'Help?... You're talking about the ribbon?...'

0o0o0

Yamcha, more tired than anything else, sat under the courtyard's tree and rested his head on Chi-Chi's shoulder. Despite the reassurance of her touch, today lingered in him. A rawness had accompanied Rush's confession that, quite frankly, proved too much for both of them. And that was before he nearly destroyed the entire castle. They didn't have any energy left to process what was said. Neither did Rush, who was resting. Chi-Chi had made it clear that she and Yamcha had to think, and before any decision was made, he would be allowed to stay in his room.

Which was another way to say that a decision was going to be made as soon as possible. One way or another, Rush was not going to stay here. Beyond that, though...

Yamcha sighed, attending to his sight. On the crest of the mountain before them, the sun's very bottom rested, mere seconds away from dipping and ruining its perfect perch atop the land.

'After all these years…' Chi-Chi murmured, slightly shaking his head. After a few seconds of this, he stopped leaning on her. 'After all these years of peace… are they really back?'

'They sound worse than before,' Yamcha added, his tone somehow less enthusiastic than hers. 'So I wouldn't really call them "back". More like… enhanced.'

'Our childhood problems seemed to have followed us into our twenties.'

'Then we're young adults, after all.'

The air was thin, moving past them in thin, foggy wisps, and a sudden chill swept over Chi-Chi. She drew her limbs into her- pulling Yamcha with them. With his heat warming the left side of her body, she turned her head, idly looking over the courtyard's edge. For a second- a split-second where she saw more short, messy black hair than a face- she met Gohan's gaze before he disappeared behind one of the castle's side doors. Her mouth drooped.

'It doesn't make sense, though.' Yamcha muttered from her side. 'The Red Ribbon Army never made Androids. Every single one we fought was mechanical. To go from that… To do what they did... ' He curled his right hand into a fist. 'Experimenting on children!...'

Chi-Chi wrapped her arms around him. 'It's okay…' she said, trying to get him to let go of his tension. 'I know… but it has been about a decade since then. Ten years is a long time to… innovate seems like the wrong word.'

'Torture,' Yamcha said. 'Maim. Harm.'

'Yeah.'

'...'

The air was thin.

Yamcha let his fist unclench. 'Why is this happening? Why now?' he asked. 'The timing…'

'If he can't explain how he was in that desert…' Chi-Chi said. '...I don't know. The chances that he got out of some kind of lab by himself and can't remember it are… slim.'

'And on the same day the time traveler arrives, let alone the Saiyans? That can't be a coincidence. And considering that he knows who we are…'

Yamcha shook his head and shuddered. It seemed that he was cold, too. He pressed closer to Chi-Chi. 'I don't know. He's too much of an unknown.'

'But…' A sharp breath of air flew into Chi-Chi's lungs. 'We're stronger than him, right?'

A lack of an immediate response tightened Chi-Chi's face. She nudged Yamcha. 'You think?...'

'I don't know,' he said into his arm. 'Before today, sure, but after that outburst back there… I had no idea he was that powerful. Before that, I would have pegged him an even match with one of those super soldiers we fought on Namek. But now? Who knows if he's not hiding more away.'

He sighed again and ran his fingers through his hair. 'I don't know. I don't know…'

'Well, let's consider the opposite then- could he be working with the Red Ribbon Army?' Chi-Chi asked. 'Could this be some kind of trick?'

'What do you think?'

'...My gut says that, if this is a trick, it's not one I would do.' Chi-Chi frowned into the distance. 'We had no idea the Red Ribbon Army was still in business. What value is there in telling us that's happening?'

'Perhaps he told us to gain our trust,' Yamcha offered.

'But how could we fully trust him after what he did back there? A double-agent should appear to be as reliable as possible. Rush- Rush isn't that. He's confused at best, and dangerous- both to us and himself- at worst.'

'I agree.'

'This is a mess.'

'I agree with that, too.'

Chi-Chi hugged him and laid her head on his shoulder. 'We're going to have to tell everyone about this amnesiac android, aren't we?'

'Yes- even if-'

Yamcha stirred a little in her arms, attention turned towards the courtyard's entrance. '...We round up everyone and get… the…' his eyes narrowed. '...the truth…'

Chi-Chi frowned at his slip into silence. 'What?' She traced his vision to the courtyard's entrance. Two plain-clothed humans stood there, obscuring the setting sun. They looked mildly surprised.

'Is… is this a bad time?'

She had no idea who these people were or what was going on until Yamcha discreetly pulled away from her and stood. 'Puar? Oolong? That- that you?'

Puar eyed where he was sitting next to the tree- next to Chi-Chi- but her gaze flickered to Yamcha after her name was called. 'It is. Hi, Yamcha. Chi-Chi.'

Yamcha started blushing. Chi-Chi had a good idea why. 'How'd you know I was here?' he asked.

'Bulma told us about a year or two back,' Puar explained, crossing the courtyard. Whatever scrutiny was in her eyes was gone. Instead, something more focused was circling her pupils. 'Good thing too, because… well…'

She halted a few feet away from Yamcha and Chi-Chi- she had stood now, too- and motioned Oolong to come forward. 'We have something to show you.'

Prompted, Oolong walked forward, acknowledged the two of them with a nod, and drew a manila folder out of the inner lining of his jacket. 'Take a look,' he said, handing it to them.

Yamcha accepted it and flipped it open. Chi-Chi peered over his shoulder. 'What is this?' he asked, rifling through pictures.

'Houses of missing persons,' Puar explained. 'We were given this to investigate… because apparently this is happening across the world.'

Chi-Chi's gaze tightened. 'Seriously?'

'As serious as us hiking up this mountain.'

'We came to you because, well...' Oolong spoke up. '... we're not very good covering long distances- can't fly, and all- so, we're asking if you could take a look at these locations.'

For several heartbeats Yamcha said nothing. 'Well…' Without looking up, he closed the folder. 'If we say yes... can you two keep a secret?'

Puar and Oolong's heads nudged forward. 'Huh?'

0o0o0

The battery-powered telephone, installed and mounted on their shack wall for one very specific reason, rung buhring buhring buhring three times before Chiaotzu brought it to his right ear with telekinesis.

'Launch?'

What followed was a very strange conversation, one that Chiaotzu couldn't really remember the specifics of other than the main point: Launch and her motley crew had found the Saiyans, and they were swooping into battle against them very soon. He had tried to ask some reasonable questions about her plan and the context for this. Launch rattled through a series of incoherent points in response. It became obvious that she had called him due to her own excitement, which meant he wasn't going to get any answers out of her. Eventually, while Launch was still gushing, he hung up.

Chiaotzu typically was a little more knowledgeable than Tien about what Launch was going to do at any given moment. He felt fairly sure that Launch was going to run off into space in the days before she actually did. So he wasn't surprised when it happened, and had been able to accept she was going to do that well before. He wasn't as concerned for Launch as Tien, who liked to alternate between trying to help her by changing her and trying to help her by ignoring her. Chiaotzu learned a long time ago to leave Launch to who she was and what she wanted to do.

That being said- he was not going to tell Tien that Launch had called to joyously prattle about her imminent battle. So it was lucky that his absence outside was unnoticed. Tien and Piccolo hadn't moved from their previous spots minutes earlier. Nor, it seemed, had their conversation.

'There's nothing else you can tell me?' Tien's fingers were digging into his chin, like they were searching for something along his jaw. 'Nothing else that King Kai mentioned to you?'

'He didn't say much,' Piccolo said, annoyed at recalling the memory. 'It was the verbal equivalent of him throwing up a wall, to be honest.'

'But your view?' Tien asked. 'It's…'

'I've thought about it for a few years now; I've also had the chance to see people other than Krillin use it. Obviously my knowledge won't be as "lived-in" as someone who can use the Kaioken, but... '

'You have an outsider perspective,' Tien said, crossing his arms. 'An outsider looking in. I understand.'

Piccolo nodded. 'Regardless, I think it'd be best to talk to Krillin, too. He received the original explanation from King Kai. No one else got that- well, no one here-'

The Namekian's speech was already falling off before he had looked at Chiaotzu approach them from the shack's door. At the sight of him, however, Piccolo shut up entirely. 'That's all I know,' he spoke again. 'I wish you good luck.'

Tien arched a brow. 'You're leaving now?'

'I have training… and more business at the Lookout,' Piccolo explained. 'But… I have appreciated today's spar, Tien.'

The human nodded. 'Likewise.'

As Piccolo turned to leave, he nodded to them both. 'Keep in mind what I asked of you,' he said, before a rush of wind ran up his body and shot him into the air.

Chiaotzu noted the silver, curving streak the Namekian left in the sky before turning to Tien. 'He asked you again, then?'

Tien kept his gaze on the sky for a little longer than Chiaotzu had. 'I can see why he's keeping at it.' His gaze flickered to Chiaotzu. 'Well- I understand, even if-'

'You don't have to lie,' Chiaotzu said, holding up a hand. 'You would be better served training with people stronger than me, now that Launch isn't around.'

'I was going to say, "people similar to me in how they train",' Tien said, glaring at Chiaotzu. 'Our friends who focus on physical training. You don't have to belittle your strength- not to me.'

Chiaotzu gave him a sheepish, almost earnest smile. Almost. 'I appreciate that- even if I disagree.'

'I disagree with your disagreement. You're more of a psychic than I'll ever be.'

'Who can't use the Kaioken beyond the introductory level,' he said wryly. 'You don't have to make me out to be more than what I am. If I get caught up in a fight on par with the Saiyan one, I'm not surviving it.'

Something raw wormed on Tien's face, and he turned away, clearly unwilling to let Chiaotzu see it. 'You don't know that,' he said stubbornly.

'Yeah? Then spar with me, full-power.'

'I'm too busy with my own training.'

The excuse felt brittle, but then again, so did Chiaotzu. He was pretty sure Tien felt that, too. 'I'm not trying to argue with you,' he said consolingly. 'I just… I just want to be truthful about this. If you can get something out of training more with Piccolo or anyone else-'

'Chiaotzu,' Tien said sharply, still peering away from him. 'There may come a day when you- or me- will be next to useless on a battlefield. When our attacks do nothing, and our lives are in someone else's hands.'

He paused for a second, and as soon as Chiaotzu thought Tien had lost his train of thought, he spoke: 'And when that day comes, we're going to keep training, because at the margin, for victory and defeat, lives are saved and lost.' He finally turned, aiming his stolid, piercing gaze at him. 'We will always contribute, no matter how weak we are, even if that means the only thing we can offer at the end is our lives, because we're not fighting for ourselves.'

Tien glared at him for a second more, then with a breath, let the tension drain from his face. 'At least, that's what I hope you believe. Even if you think of yourself as weak… you will always have the choice to make a difference. Okay?'

Chiaotzu sighed. This wasn't something he could argue about with Tien. His mind was made up. 'Okay.'

'Okay.' Tien's eyes suddenly looked tired. '...'

'What?'

'...I'm going to visit Krillin soon, I think,' Tien said. I need to ask him some questions about the Kaioken to patch up my knowledge. Piccolo gave me something to work with, but…'

'...but, what?'

'I'm still missing something,' Tien muttered. 'I need the core idea… whatever that is.'

0o0o0

With a final tug, Krillin pulled the knot around his waist taut and stepped back. In the mirror, his old Turtle gi looked a little odd- original and freshly woven fabric intermingled, creating an odd light-and-faded pattern to the entire thing. Another thing Krillin regretted not asking Master Roshi about while on King Kai's planet; he always wondered who had stitched together the turtle gis when they were kids. Roshi himself didn't seem like much of a tailor, and Krillin knew of no one else living there, so...

Krillin shrugged as he turned and admired his gi from another angle. This thing had a lot of history. His actual, original gi had gotten incinerated along with his body when he fought Raditz. This version was the one he appeared in the afterlife with, trained in at King Kai's, lost to Ginyu's body-stealing ways on Namek, and returned to him shortly after they got back to Earth. Which…

He let his arms fall limply to his sides. Who… who stripped Ginyu to get me this?...

After a few seconds of thought, he decided that he didn't want to know the answer to that, and left his room. He was still frowning and rubbing his neck when he ran into Marron, dressed in a crude orange-blue copy of his own gi. He had made that on a whim about a year back to see if he could make a convincing kids-sized copy of his gi. Turns out he couldn't, but in the process, he had made a loose training uniform for his daughter.

She crouched and threw out a karate-chop, verbalizing the sound she imagined it should have made. 'Huah! Whapah!'

Oh, boy.

Krillin swept her into his arms and led her outside, Down the hill their house sat on was the valley's stream, and when he reached the water's edge, Krillin placed Marron down and knelt next to her. 'So, Marron… hmm…'

'What, Daddy?'

"What Daddy" is right. How… His gaze locked with Marron's. She blinked. How… how do I teach someone from scratch? It's not like when I was showing everyone the Kaioken. Marron doesn't even know how to throw a punch…

'Uhh… Daddy?'

Krillin sat back on the slope behind them. What would Master Roshi do?... or King Kai, for that matter?

'Daddy!' Marron grabbed his right arm and tugged. 'Get up! You're supposed to be training!'

'I know, Marron,' Krillin replied. He placed a hand on her forehead and ruffled her green-blue hair. 'Just getting-'

All at once a wave of sensation flooded into Krillin's consciousness. A second set of sensations; how the wind cut against his skin, the gentle water sprayed against his clothes, the sun shined on his neck. Layers and layers of new experiences, folding and unfolding on each other-

Stupid Daddy. Can't even stand.

Krillin's eyes widened. What was that?

I bet… I bet he doesn't know anything… I bet he's a phony.

But I… I do know something… Where… where is that voice coming from?...

I should have asked Mommy. She always knows better.

Underneath his hand, Marron shifted and pulled away, and immediately, Krillin felt that layering of sensation end, allowing him to take a much-needed breath. 'Wha…' he stared at his hand, then Marron. 'You… That was…'

Marron cocked her head. 'You okay?'

Krillin quickly stood, still staring at his hand. He began to turn it over and over, looking for something that wasn't there. 'I… I'm not sure… oh… oh, no…'

A few more seconds passed until Krillin abruptly swooped down and grabbed his daughter. 'Sorry, Marron- we're going to go find Mommy!' His ki kicked into the air around him.

'Huh? Why?'

'Because Daddy's a little freaked out!'

0o0o0

Grocery shopping was supposed to be boring. That was the point. When you were too tired to think or imagine anything else, and had nothing to do… you did something boring. You went grocery shopping. So…

Carefully, Rayne pushed her paper bags brimming with fresh fruit and vegetables further into the loose dirt, staking them like two beams. With care, she pressed herself closer to the ground, hovering a few inches above her groceries, and continued scanning the area. She had been flying, griping to herself, when she heard a strange sound from the woods below her. Something metal and groaning. Typically there was nothing and no one to see on the route connecting her house to the nearest store about fifty miles away. So safe to say that this was… odd.

Prone at the edge of the forest, she saw a round shape emerge into the clearing, straining and churning the dirt as it went. Heavy metal tracks slapped-slapped-slapped the ground, moving forward like a roly-poly, or a tank-

That's… what?... Rayne rubbed her eyes to clear her vision. But, no, the tank she saw was real, and moreover was the RT02: the preferred and only tank ever used by the Red Ribbon Army.

It even had the right markings on its side, even though the red paint was faded and chipped. But, still… what? Where did this come from? Why is it so near our house?

She would have been more alarmed than confused if the tank was moving in any coordinated manner, but judging by how the tracks sped and seized like a stop-start motor, it was clear that whoever was piloting it had no idea what they were doing. So she just felt odd. She rubbed her eyes again. What the heck is going on?

The barrel, almost like it was drunk, started spinning around and round, swinging carefree through the air. Rayne started to think that she really was imagining this, because, well- well, this is ridiculous.

Before she knew what she was doing, Rayne started chuckling, watching as the barrel steadied and began tipping towards the sky, lurching and halting. In a cloud of smoke and dust the tank's top hatch flew open, and a short blue man rose halfway out of it, fuming and red-faced.

'There! They're there!' the blue man screamed, pointing with his entire body that he nearly fell out of the tank's hatch. 'RIGHT THERE!''

Still chuckling, Rayne followed his full-body point and saw Krillin and Marron hovering in the air. Krillin and Marron.

Rayne blinked. Krillin and… Marron? The barrel had stopped moving.

Oh.

With enough force to jostle the entire vehicle backward, the tank's barrel shot out a shell, polished brown and streaking, which flew into the air. Rayne was terrified- for about a second until she realized the shell was way off from hitting its target. Krillin and Marron continued floating in the sky, seemingly just as confused as she had been a few minutes ago.

Rayne shifted her focus away from them as she rose from her hiding spot and charged the tank. Her first punch punctured the metal siding, and after shoving her other hand in, she peeled the armor like an orange and climbed inside. The two pilots- a woman with sharp black hair and a dogman- froze, eyes bulging out of their sockets, and flung their hands up to surrender. And this was before the blue man fell from the top hatch and smacked his back on the metal flooring.

'So- which one of you just shot at my daughter?' Rayne asked, her eyes glazing over. 'I'd like to hear your reason for doing that.'

'Err- err!' standing, the blue man desperately looked around, as if there was something inside the tank that he could use as a weapon. 'You- King Pilaf will be back!' he suddenly declared, pointing a finger at her and posing even as the two other people in the tank sped out the top hatch and climbed down the other side. 'One day, he'll rule over this puny world, and then you'll-'

'You salvaged this, right?' Rayne rapped her knuckles on the metal chassis surrounding them.

'Err- err- yes!'

'Where?'

'Hrrr-' Pilaf seemed close to exploding, '-err- there!' he pointed to his left, drawing Rayne's attention to a map. As soon as she turned her head, he bolted out of the hatch too, and she heard him bumping down the tank's other side.

'You'll regret this!... ' Pilaf's voice swooned even as it grew more and more distant. 'You'll regret messing with the future King of the World… you'll regret!... get off me, you idiot!...'

Rayne paid the last echoes of his voice no mind as she crept further into the tank and examined the map more closely. From what she could tell, it made out a smaller Red Ribbon armory… one Rayne didn't remember, so she didn't think it was very important. Whoever those people were, they seemed to have stumbled onto some kind of old RRA depot.

Easy to forget how big the Red Ribbon Army was, back in the day, Rayne thought as she climbed back out of the tank through the hole she had made. Must be still tens or hundreds of tanks like these sitting around across the globe, gathering dust…

Her thoughts wrapped up as Krillin, carrying Marron in his arms, landed next to her. Her daughter quickly sprung from his hands and ran up to the tank. 'Woah!' she marveled, admiring the ribbons Rayne had made of its armor. 'You did this, mommy?'

'I did.'

'Wow…'

At her side, Krillin looked a little agitated- which was strange, considering that he and Marron had never been in any risk from that tank. Wait…

'Krillin,' Rayne asked, turning to him, 'why are you here?'

'Well…' Krillin watched Marron climb on top of the tank and press her ear to it. 'Something… strange… just happened.'

'Strange, how?'

'Uhh,' Krillin scratched his neck. 'I think… I read Marron's mind.'

'Sorry- what?'

0o0o0

A wall of color reached him, flooding past his ankles and coiling back simultaneously like some kind of lurching, living fog. Several times Piccolo strode forward, surging towards that phasing, shifting, immutably changing barrier looming towards the heavens, and each time force rose and overwhelmed him, pushing him back to where he started. Even in his mind- in this sparse, featureless, and boundless muted black room he had created in his consciousness- the dark miasma encasing Kami resisted him. It didn't matter if he tried in here or outside, with pure will or his hands: the result was always the same. The barrier remained exactly where it had been, and Piccolo was stuck on the other side of it.

As difficult as it was to accept, it was clear to Piccolo that he wasn't going to reach Kami anytime soon. Perhaps what he needed to do was take a step back and get another look. Even if he couldn't get past the barrier, he could still ask questions.

First off; why is this barrier here? Piccolo closed his eyes and scowled as he sat cross-legged, letting the fog roll past him. At first, he had assumed that whatever was preventing him from reaching Kami was connected to the apparent root of all of Kami's misfortunes- the beginning of his coma following some use of the dragonballs. It would not be difficult for his… father? Originator? Odd words… It would not be difficult for Katas to create some kind of barrier around Kami if he had already forced a wish through him. If that was true, however, Piccolo couldn't understand why the barrier was created some time after that event. Assuming Katas was alive, and although Piccolo had no idea what his goals might be, he didn't think he would let three years go by until deciding to act again. If Katas was truly interested in Kami after a hypothetical resurrection, Piccolo felt he would have seen him by now.

Second, then; perhaps Kami himself put up this barrier. While the Guardian had been effectively dead to the outside world, Piccolo knew that appearances could be deceiving. Kami's apparent unresponsiveness does not guarantee that he is fully unconscious. Perhaps the barrier is a delayed response from Kami after the dragonballs were used. Maybe he knew on some level that he was being manipulated and put up this barrier to prevent that from happening in the future. Though, again, that raised the mystery of why this occurred three years after the previous event. Still, Piccolo couldn't rule out the possibility that Kami was in some capacity still conscious and acting with intent, as unlikely as that might be.

It was still unlikely, though, and Piccolo had a third theory. It was possible that the barrier was not created by Kami or Katas. It is possible I created it myself. He had not been affected by it like Yajirobe had. And as much as Piccolo had progressed with sorting through his soul and the ghosts of the old delusions and desires haunting it, he couldn't deny that he was still in flux and largely unknowable to himself. After all, it had been years since Namek, and still…

Piccolo sighed, pinching his forehead. Moori had helped him to understand events there after the fact, but as for how it felt to live through them...

'I think you are on the right track.'

The sudden speech, piercing the endless silence of his meditation, cleaved into Piccolo's train of thought. He hastily stood, casting off his confusion, and scanned his surroundings. 'What's that? Who?'

His urgent, anxious words were absorbed into the miasma and replayed back to him, warped and waspish. Whoever the speaker was, however, they remained calm. 'I've been with you before. In a way, I've been with you for quite a while.'

Piccolo's alarm gradually diminished as he figured out where the voice was coming from. Somewhere… between the barrier and the edge of the gloom. 'Katas?'

The speaker hesitated for a moment as Piccolo's question continued to reverberate. 'No,' they said at last, 'I do not think I am.'

'You don't know?'

'Only you can determine that.'

The miasma began to separate, like mist parting, and out of it walked a vaguely defined… Namekian shape, Piccolo felt. His eyes could tell him nothing. The shape's clothing, face, and color were undefined, like an unfinished painting. There was only the gray-black outline of a person, bounding lighter gray.

The ratcheting of Piccolo's pulse increased. There was truth to what this person had said. Even as he looked at them, their shape was morphing and shifting, some features falling in and out of focus, almost as if they hadn't quite decided what to become. Piccolo started to see what he feared of what he imagined- darkness, green and brown and terrible, pooled into the outline, filling bones, skin, arms, legs like sand, and a jagged sharpness dripped into that expression, nothing but might and killing edge. Nails as knives, cabled muscle, sibilant, almost thought-like whispers… his fear was manifesting before his very eyes.

'Well?' The speaker's voice had become low and husky, grotesque. 'Who am I?'

He had a choice to make, he realized. So Piccolo closed his eyes once more, took a deep breath, and isolated his fear. He needed to be calm, clear. Like how this person had approached him. They were reliant.

With another careful, measured breath, Piccolo opened his eyes. The coalescing monster seemed suspended, stuck outside time and space. He realized that it was waiting.

'Leera?'

All at once, the illusion fell away, sloughing off of the figure like mud washed away by rain, and Leera's face appeared, hazy, barely distinct, but enough of what Piccolo could remember on his deathbed so long ago. They said nothing, they nodded, and then they gestured- something Piccolo didn't understand- and turned to face the barrier behind them.

Piccolo strode forward to join him.

'It can get lonely in here,' Leera said, placeless sound emanating from him like an echo of an echo. 'The days drag on and on, like what you did to me never ended.'

An inescapable feeling- a conviction- washed over Piccolo. One laced with enough regret and sadness that he could never express it. Still, he couldn't help but try to… console.

'That may be truer than you know.'

The ghost breathed after he spoke, almost like he breathed Piccolo's words. 'You know what I know. That's how it works, right?' Leera turned a sliver of his face to Piccolo. A sliver of the terror he had felt so long ago. 'Because I am you. But you aren't me.'

'And you're not actually here- or, you aren't here.'

Leera met his gaze for a brief second before looking forward again. 'I'm not here to argue with myself.' He lifted a hand, swinging into the gloom in front of them. Piccolo knew that he was pointing. 'The barrier is our chief concern. We need to get rid of it- or, failing that, we need to strengthen it.' Leera looked towards him again. 'It cannot be allowed to remain as it is.'

'So you know something that I don't?' Piccolo questioned. 'Based on what you said-'

'You and Kami are linked, as disappointing that must be to hear,' Leera chided him. 'I am able to peer into that link, because I am you, but you are not me. And I can tell you for certain- this was Kami's doing and Kami's doing alone. He struggled to do this. And he did not do it well enough.'

For a split-second, he saw… himself in Leera's face, a sneer and impatience flashing like lightning, mouth biting back an imminent growl- but he blinked and saw that ghost again, eyes hollow, mouth pained and stretched. Leera closed his eyes. 'You need to trust me. You need to trust yourself.'

Trust myself? Piccolo felt his face redden with anger. His being told him that Kami was undeserving of his help. He felt nothing but hatred towards the old Guardian for his actions against his father and himself. This was perhaps the last feeling his father had passed onto him that he still recognized in himself. At his inception, Kami had acted with undeniable arrogance by splitting himself in two in order to "purge" his bad intentions. Centuries later, he first tried to get a human to kill his father, then attempted to kill Piccolo with his own hands. Never once did he try to confront what he was born of… instead, he spurred it, tried to destroy it, as simply as someone might try to dispose of a pest. His father was many things, and there was very little now shared between him and Piccolo, but both of them never deserved Kami's full-throated spite. All three of them came from the same being, after all. A part of his father and him had allowed that Namekian to advance to the precipice of stewardship over the Earth. To cast aside them aside there- to bring Piccolo's father into existence as something loathed and feared- was never forgiven and never forgotten.

For that reason Piccolo had returned to the Lookout, again and again, looking for some sign that Kami was near death. Even if it meant that Piccolo would die as well, he wished to find that final vindication in the old Guardian's dying breaths. An admittance of error. Catharsis for a life born into hatred.

And yet the ghost looked at him expectantly, likely knowing how Piccolo felt at the moment. Leera's eyes… they said as much. Yes, he knew. There was nothing to gain by voicing it.

He was still curious, though.

'Why?' Piccolo gestured to the barrier with one hand. 'Why would Kami do this?'

He waited for a moment. When Leera didn't reply, Piccolo turned, and saw the ghost's attention was somehow piercing the barrier, looking beyond. 'I think you'll have to ask him yourself.'

0o0o0

'Damn,' Korin nudged Piccolo with the bottom of his staff. 'How long has he been like this?'

The Namekian was cross-legged, had his eyes shut, and was hunched over, breathing like he was asleep.

'About an hour,' Mr. Popo answered serenely. They seemed unperturbed by this, as with everything.

'And you haven't been able to wake him up?'

'I do not think he wants to be woken up.' Mr. Popo's eyes followed the tiny darting motions made by Piccolo's antenna. 'It seems that he is extremely preoccupied with whatever he is doing.'

Korin sighed at Piccolo, then especially at the barrier surrounding Kami. Nothing of its banding, almost viscous metal coloration had lessened or grown over the past few days, let alone during the time of Piccolo's current visit. 'He really thinks meditation will help him break this?'

'At the very least, it cannot hurt to try,' Mr. Popo said.

'Perhaps.' Korin idly tapped his staff against the barrier to no effect. 'Perhaps.'

A knock of a fist on stonework sounded from behind them. They turned.

'Hey, Korin?' Yajirobe chimed in from the complex's entrance. 'You busy?'

Korin frowned morosely at Piccolo, then turned. 'Not really. Why?'

The samurai jerked his head backward. 'Can we talk? Outside?'

'Hmm? What about?'

Yajirobe turned and began to walk away. 'Just come on,' he said.

Korin spared another glance towards Kami, at Piccolo, and Mr. Popo's silhouette whisking about in the background carrying linens and tea. It occurred to him that neither he nor Mr. Popo had been outside this room for… a very long time.

The sun was bright as he joined Yajirobe at the Lookout's center. 'Well? What's this about?'

The samurai seemed to fidget with the hilt of his blade, like there was some notch or groove that his fingers couldn't find. 'I've been thinking about the Senzu plants.'

'Senzu plants? What about them?'

'Well… do you know how they are?'

Korin narrowed his eyes. His on-and-off perpetual companion was usually straightforward with everything he thought, said, and did. Korin felt that not be the case now. Then he remembered he had been asked a question. 'Well… I'm not sure, actually.' The worn bottom of his staff pressed into a polished white tile. 'About the ones up here, or…I guess It's been a while since I've left the Lookout.'

'Right…' Yajirobe's eyes darted away from Korin. 'That's… kinda what I want to talk about.'

Ah. Korin had imagined this conversation in his head a few times before. Though it had been nearly eight hundred years ago and he and Yajirobe's positions were swapped. Korin had never had to give up something before, but…

He turned back to the complex. This place was old- older than so much else on the Earth, and older still if he thought about what this place represented. Omniscience, knowledge, and foresight… above all, foresight to understand the past, ward the future, and battle the present. It was in the moment-to-moment events that guardians proved their worth. And when given the chance to look in two opposite directions, it is extremely difficult to look between them.

'Korin?'

The eight-hundred-year-old cat turned back with a slight, almost knowing smile. Almost. He still wasn't sure what Yajirobe was about to say.

'I want to go back to your tower and eat the extra rice there.' Yajirobe gave a sleepy-looking frown. 'It's going to waste.'

So he would never be sure what Yajirobe was going to say. That was fine. In reality-

'And, while I'm there,' Yajirobe went on, 'I'm thinking… you could come with me and teach me a few things about staying there, you know?'

'You mean?...' Korin chuckled to himself. 'Do you… do you want a staff?' he indicated his own.

Yajirobe laid his hand, now calmed, on top of his sword's pommel. 'Got my sword, so no thanks. But I figure there are some other things you can show me. Things to do, things to keep around. Stuff like that.'

Stuff like that,' Korin repeated, marveling at the words. 'That's all it is. You're right. Sure. Sounds like a swell time.' His eyes ambled to the striped gardens to their left and right. 'And the senzu plants up here are growing well?'

'Gotta pouch full of them in the storeroom. Big brown bag. And these plants,' Yajirobe gestured to their surroundings, 'they should be okay without me for a while.'

'I'll make sure to water them when we get back.'

Yajirobe nodded. 'I'm going to go now, then. Are you going to?...'

'Let's go now,' Korin said, clacking past him with his staff. 'Before anything else comes up.'

0o0o0

Bulma's parents stared slack-jawed as their daughter pushed into a wall-sized whiteboard into the conference room. 'Dear…' her mother said, a mote concerned, 'is that really necessary?'

'Yes!' Bulma grunted, each slam of her shoulder moving the board's four wheels an inch forward. 'Yes- it's- important!'

'Do you have a marker, Bulma dear?' Dr. Briefs asked.

Any response she gave- if she gave any- was blotted out by another shoulder slam. Dr. Briefs threw a smile to his wife and rose out of his seat, stretched from his waist, and crossed the room. He returned with a marker in his hand, and gave it to a wheezing, shoulder-cradling Bulma.

'Thanks,' she breathed.

'So you didn't have one.'

'It would have been knocked off the board's tray while I pushed it.'

'If you say so.' Dr. Briefs walked back to his seat and fell into it. 'Well, Bulma,' he crossed his legs. 'You have my curiosity. What's the occasion for this presentation?'

After a few more breaths, Bulma straightened and positioned herself adjacent to the board. 'Alright, so…' she pulled the cap off the marker and drew a horizontal black line. 'I was thinking about timelines recently,' she explained, reaching the other end of the board.

In a telltale sign that she was thinking, Mrs. Briefs dimpled her cheeks. 'What kind of timeline?'

As she spoke, Bulma started adding notches to the line. 'On the topic of Capsule Corp. and the unpleasant sub-basement surprise.'

'Huh?' Mrs. Brief cocked her head. 'What- oh,' she said in a more subdued voice once Mr. Briefs whispered in her ear. 'Oh, that whole thing.'

'What, may I ask,' Dr. Briefs said, shifting his weight back to his seat and addressing the room, 'have you figured out, sweetie?'

Bulma froze in front of the whiteboard, head incrementally moving up and down as if reciting something. 'Okay… okay. First-' She wrote down 758 over the first notch. 'Raditz attacks East City. Destroys a lot of buildings, kills a lot of people, not least Piccolo and Krillin. That was... ' she tapped the marker to her chin, bleeding a black spot. 'Almost five years ago.'

'Yes- that is how time works,' Dr. Briefs chimed in.

'Right…' Bulma wrote 759/760 over the next notch. 'Stuff in space and Namek took about… six months, give or take, so I'd peg that Krillin got his body back in 760, considering that was another year on top of that.'

Mrs. Briefs elbowed her husband. 'She's thinking out loud again.'

His mustache curdled. 'Too bad we never got her to give up that habit.'

'Oh- and that's around the time that whole Kami incident went down-' Bulma continued, '-which would have been a good time for someone to smuggle something off grounds. Hmm…'

She wrote 762 and 763 above the two remaining notches. 'So that leaves the Saiyans arriving on Earth… and now, considering the year started about a month ago.'

'Again- I think we understand how time works,' Dr. Briefs said aloud.

'I'm thinking…' Bulma turned to them, leaning on the whiteboard, '... I'm thinking… hold on.'

'She must get her persistence from you, dear,' Bulma's father muttered to his wife. 'Do you remember how many projects I gave up on when I was young?'

She smiled sweetly. 'Don't sell yourself short, honey.'

Abruptly, Bulma's fingers snapped. 'Right,' she said, spinning back to the board. 'At each of these dates, there was something going on that would have made stealing Raditz's body impossible.'

Dr. Briefs's mustache bristled. 'Impossible is a hard thing to prove, Bulma.'

'It's more likely than not!' Bulma argued, pressing her finger to the first notch 'Think about it. In 758, almost the entire Capsule Corp. R&D department was off-site, working on reverse-engineering the PTO ships and tech. To my knowledge, that continued even after I went into space.'

Her father tapped his chin with a hand. 'That's true, yes…'.

Bulma's finger flew to the next notch. 'In 759 and 760, the prison was set up. Remember the checks we had then? Every shipment that entered and left the main grounds was searched. I mean- we even searched the employees.'

'Okay, but…'

'And here,' Bulma pressed her finger to the whiteboard, 'in 761 and 762, I was in my workshop pretty much every day, six o'clock in the morning to midnight. Turns out that the basement Raditz was kept in, if it was on any official schematics, would be roughly right below my lab- so I would have heard or felt something if someone was down there!'

'Uhh…' Frowning, Dr. Briefs turned to his wife. She seemed to be feeling the same as him. 'Bulma, I'm not sure…'

'So, my theory doesn't work,' Bulma said, squeezing the bridge of her nose. 'The name I found- that person couldn't have taken Raditz… so I guess I'm back at square one, huh?'

She fixed her attention on them, waiting for them to say something specific. Dr. Briefs knew what she wanted to hear. He wasn't going to say it.

'Bulma, Bulma, Bulma…' he said, shaking his head as he stood. 'I think I know what's going on.'

His daughter threw him a nervous look as she moved protectively between him and the whiteboard. 'What?'

From her husband's right, Mrs. Briefs walked out, and like someone calmly disarming someone of a gun, she took Bulma's marker from her.

'You're talking about all this as if we don't know if Raditz's body was taken… but we do know that,' Dr. Briefs said, moving to them. 'As improbable as it is… it did happen. You put the body there, and you saw the body was taken out. Someone did that. And, sweetie…'

He waited until his daughter looked him in the eyes. 'If you have a name… why haven't you talked to this person yet? That's a much easier way to disprove your theory than making a madman's diagram.'

Bulma opened her mouth, but bit back what she was planning on saying. 'I don't know.'

'I think you're doubting yourself,' Mrs. Briefs said, holding Bulma by her arms. 'Which is very un-Bulmaesque.'

She frowned, chewing her cheek. 'I am, and… I guess I'm nervous, too…'

'Nervous about going?' Her father probed. 'Nervous about going by yourself?'

Bulma shook her head. 'No. I wouldn't take someone else… if the person behind the name actually did this, they'd feel intimidated if someone else came with me, I think.'

'Then what is it? What are you nervous about?'

'It feels like…' she glanced back at the board, studying the black notches. 'It feels like I haven't gotten anything right in a while. Like everything I touch falls into a funk.' She wiped away some of the black line onto her thumb. 'I don't know. When I found out this name, it almost felt too good to be true… almost like it was too easy, and because of that, it didn't feel right.' She turned back to her parents. 'I didn't feel right. So I started thinking what I found out wasn't right either. Wasn't… real.'

Definite negativity rested on Bulma's face, too familiar there for its own good, but her mother, shining like the sun on a warm and clear day, touched her shoulders. 'Well- you have the name. So it's a lead, right?' she asked. 'You can find out for yourself if it's true- and whether you deserve to feel right.'

'Which is, usually, 99% of the time,' her father chimed in as he pushed his glasses up his nose. 'You are our daughter, after all.'

Bulma smiled weakly at him. 'Well… yeah, that's true.'

'Then you have nothing to worry about,' her mother said. 'And even if you're wrong… remember that we care about you, and that if you ever need to do something like…' Her head turned to the rows of chairs facing them and the whiteboard, '...like this, you're more than welcome. Getting your parents' help to smooth out your nerves, that is.'

'Okay.' Bulma nodded. 'Will do. And… thanks. I appreciate that.'

'And we appreciate you.'

While Bulma and her mother decoupled, Dr. Briefs had walked back to his chair. He had set down some papers next to him when he had first entered the room and sat. 'Bulma, by the way,' he said, groaning as he bent over and grabbed his things, '- that name you mentioned: what is it?'

'Oh, that?' Bulma shoved her hand into one of her jacket pockets and pulled out a scrap of paper. 'It's Dr... Dr. Frappe, or something like that.'

'Frappe, eh?' He scrunched his face in thought. 'He worked for us?'

'A few years back, yeah.'

'Huh.' Dr. Briefs shrugged. 'Odd. Can't remember them. Oh well.' He began to walk out of the room. 'Back to the lab, then.' He turned and waved one last time. 'Good luck!'

Bulma nodded. Her mother gave her a hug and parted, too, and soon enough, she was left alone with her whiteboard. She remembered how far she had pushed that thing across the building, and her shoulder ached. Almost suspiciously, she examined her surroundings and started to slowly pad away.

'Just gonna… just gonna… leave this here…' Her crawl morphed into a normal walk. She started whistling. 'That's… not mine, yep…'

0o0o0

'This is a trap. Plain and simple.'

'I know.'

Retu trudged through the knee-high snow and placed a hand on Suno's back, waiting patiently until she was ready to stand. Stretching across the frozen plain before them, runnels of packed snow ran towards a round and stone-gray fortress wedged between two glaciers. For an abduction, the kidnappers' vehicle had driven remarkably normal back to its base. Its tracks had formed a nearly perfect set of parallel lines from Jingle Village to here.

That didn't stop Suno from pouring over its trail at every step, double-checking for any backtracking or misdirection. Considering how eerie her home was without a single person chopping wood or any smoke rising from any chimney, he couldn't blame her.

'So we're still going to do this?' Retu asked, watching his breath glide white through the frigid air. He had made sure to wear a proper coat his second time up here.

Suno stirred under his hand. 'I know it's a trap,' she reiterated. 'But we really don't have any other choice if we want to act before anything can… happen.' She stood, rising from the snow. 'Whatever that may be. You know, Retu-' She half-glanced to him, '-there's a good chance that Nam-'

'It's been weeks, maybe months,' Retu said into the wind. His breath glided away from him once more. I… I don't think I should get my hopes up. And, well…'

Suno turned to him again. Even that was difficult. She felt uneasy taking her eyes off the looming fortress in the distance. 'What?'

'It's risky to go in by ourselves.'

'Are you telling me to wait?'

'I would never ask you to do that,' Retu said. 'But the pagers Bulma gave us aren't working. And if this is a trap…'

He trailed off, glancing off, tracking a white puff of his breath dissipate into the air. Every gut feeling and instinct told him this was a bad idea. Even if Suno said otherwise.

'I need you in there.' Suno's words slushed through his mind like rotten ice. Retu's idea of how she looked was the same as what he saw when he turned back to her. Her blue-white gi reluctantly clung to her, just as odd-fitting and out-of-place as the deflated expression she wore. 'To win. For me.'

Retu tried to make sense of what she was emphasizing. 'What?'

'It's always... something,' she muttered. 'Always something getting in the way. Of living life. You know?'

'You're getting off-topic.'

'I know.' She flashed a sad kind of smile. 'We need back-up. I understand that. I can't force you to come in with me.' Suno dipped some, almost like she was trying to get out of his sight. 'So… wait.'

Retu's gaze jumped to her face. Her skin was pale and reddened by the cold. 'I've got an idea.'

'Yeah?' Retu asked. 'What?'

'Take a step back.'

Legs swinging through the snow, Retu backpedaled, giving Suno some space. A certain look had come over her- That look. I know that look...

Another wind slammed across the area, and only after Retu pushed back against it did he realize it had come from Suno. Red energy radiated from her, dappling the air and melting the snow. An insane amount of red energy. Retu found it hard to look at her; too bright, too much force pushing his head away. No build-up whatsoever- just a huge eruption, every part of her overwhelmed by the sheer amount of ki pumping out of her-

Rush's eyes widened as he made out the knowing smile on Suno's face. 'Now the whole world knows we're here. Friends and all. So…'

She pivoted from him, her foot scything through the snow as it dug into the ground. 'Better get this done!' And she launched into the air, flinging herself towards the far-off fortress.

'Suno!' Retu cried after her. In a flash, he cloaked himself in the Kaioken's aura and surged after her. 'Wait up!'

0o0o0

A/N: Wahoo! Things are starting to kick off a little. FYI- this should be the last earth-only chapter in this arc. Next chapter (which will be out at the end of the month, so let's say next Friday) will be the last space-only chapter in this arc. So, expect Chapter 83 and 84 to be two freakin' rides! March is shaping up to be a big month.

Also, a PSA: I'm not blackmailing anyone for reviews! I'm still writing just as much as I did before I made that post in the author's notes of last chapter. I just wanted to make everyone aware of something that I (and many other authors on this site) take into consideration when writing. Reviews straight-up bring a smile to my face and motivate me to write my best. But it's not the only thing motivating me to write. They're sorta like… a nitro boost to an engine, or something. It supercharges existing effort. So even though I like to think my internal motivation for writing fanfiction is pretty darn high considering how long this fic is, it's always nice to get some external reward and insightful feedback alongside that :^).

Also, in other news, I was browsing the general field of DBZ fics. And… uh… yeah, you know, there was nothing strange to me that this fic is 700k words before, but it turns out that this story is around… maybe the 10th? 9th? longest fic written by word count in this fandom, and that when (not if, because I'm 99.9% we'll get there by the end of this) we get to a million words and change, this'll be the 2nd longest DBZ fic ever. Hah! That's kind of crazy! Guess that shows what you can do when every new arc excites your writing willpower :^).

ALSO: Timeline, as per someone's request:

Age 736: Tien, Yamcha, and Launch are born

738: Krillin, Chi-Chi, and Rayne are born

741: Retu and Suno are born

750: 21st WMAT

753: Red Ribbon Arc, Kakarot/Chi-Chi Encounter at Jingle Village, 22nd WMAT, Tien wins, Yamcha dies, Return of King Piccolo, Roshi dies, King Piccolo defeated

756: 23rd WMAT, Piccolo beats Krillin, 2nd Kakarot/Chi-Chi encounter, Kakarot destroys pod, Raditz is alerted

757: Gohan is born

758: Raditz Arrives on Earth, Kakarot, Krillin, Piccolo die

758-759: Tien, Yamcha, and Bulma work in the PTO, Garlic Junior attacks and is defeated

759: Tien, Yamcha, and Bulma reach Namek, revive Krillin and Piccolo, defeat the PTO army under Zarbon and the Ginyu Force, Marron is born

760: Kakarot, Bardock, and Katas are revived, Kami enters a coma, Krillin regains his body from Ginyu

762: Saiyans invade Earth and are defeated

763: Present Day

KagariAsuha: Well, I'm glad you're enjoying this fic, and thank you for your kind words! I wasn't trying to convey that I bummed out at the end of last chapter (even if I actually did feel a little like that then), but your support is appreciated. As for Bardock, Kakarot, and Rush- you're getting some of them in every chapter, and maybe all three once events come together!

ILiekFishes: Hey! Thank you for the review! I'm sorry to hear that your expectations for this fic didn't pan out. I'm generally not a fan of writing the "canon" with a few changes here and there. My continuing goal was and is to make a few small changes to the original plot and multiply divergences from there.

Which, to be clear, isn't to say that my overall arcs won't be totally divorced from canon. I'm not going to spoil anything, but there are a few arcs coming up that more closely resemble canon. But I do like making the changes that I make. I'm sorry our preferences don't line up more, but I hope you enjoyed the story's Volume I before things got a little too wild.

That being said, thank you for highlighting your thoughts on Bardock and the Kaioken, among other things. I'll keep them in mind (and how to improve them!) going forward.

Anonymous: It's funny how you note the length of this fic as intimidating. It's the complete opposite for me xD. I love fics with oodles and oodles of chapters and words. The longer, the better, IMO… as long as every chapter and every word has a purpose, of course. Nothing can quite compare to the lore and thematic richness that can manifest in a long story. Inversely, I do not like one-shots.

You have a good point about the story going off script! It makes it harder for people to jump in, but… I kinda like that. Doing original stuff, that is. And I hope that my writing is clear enough that it shouldn't be incomprehensible if a rando decided to jump in at the beginning of Volume II, for example. Krillin's dead, people on Earth are sad- etc.

I'll make edits to last chapter to make two things clearer among the Capsule Corp. Ship conversations:

One; everyone's perspective of what happened on Namek is limited to some degree. All they really know for sure is that the PTO followed them, they were attacked, there was some infighting between Ginyu and Zarbon (not even sure if they got the turquoise's guy's name), and they won. Considering that Ginyu and Recoome never spoke once imprisoned, they never got a great idea for why the PTO chased them to Namek (excluding, perhaps, the conversation between Zarbon and Bulma while she was captured), they don't actually have that great an understanding of why things went down as they did. Going off on that...

Two; Mark was specifically referencing a mission write-up Bulma had prepared for their trip, which combined her thoughts on Vegeta's gang with the PTO's attack on Namek. She is probably the best informed of everyone on Earth, considering both her time spent with Vegeta, Zarbon, and Ginyu, but also because, you know, she's Bulma Briefs.

So, to answer your question, Launch probably knows the basics of what happened during the PTO arc- Tien and Yamcha had a rough time, so did Bulma, shit followed them to Namek, etc. Moreover, everyone's time in space/on Namek was pretty stressful, so I don't think those involved are super keen to talk about it.

Glad you're enjoying Vegeta's depiction! I'm really enjoying writing him right now, too. His recurring memory/flashback/dream/nightmare sequences have been something I haven't really done before, and they've been fun to do.

As for Tarble, for the purposes of this story, I consider all DB media published after roughly… idk, 2000? 2005? to not be canon, barring a few exceptions here or there. IMHO, around then Toriyama started to meddle with existing themes and characterization in a pretty negative way (looking at you, Bardock time-travel special). Tarble is an interesting idea in theory… I just think he's a little awkward to tack onto the existing lore as a Saiyan non-fighter. I mean, I think the whole purpose of the Saiyans are that they're fighters and warriors. Tarble doesn't really fit that mold, obviously, which is part of his entire arc and story, but again, for the purpose of this story, I don't see him popping up anytime soon.

I really like that line too! Vegeta's having a little bit of an identity crisis at the moment. Also very true about him having zero control- which was true considering he was the Prince even before Frieza entered the picture.

Kakarot may be a little homesick! But, honestly- can you blame him? Earth is depicted as like the only non-shithole planet in the galaxy. I would think that, after living out of a dingy spaceship for a few years, he'd come to miss the comfort of home (even if he was tasked with destroying it). As for Bardock's place in a Space Opera- lol! I simply enjoy having him muse about things in a way that doesn't really affect what'll he do. At this stage of his life his worldview (or galaxyview, I guess) is pretty caked in. He's perceptive, but nothing he'll see will really change his take on things and what he'll do. I figure it's a good idea to give him a chance to show his thoughts… especially considering what kind of role he's playing to Kakarot at the moment.

Next chapter is coming along! I hope you enjoy it :^). And as for the timeline, see above. But you raised a good point- I need to show more time passing through Gohan!

The Rocha: Glad to hear from you again! Your review is massive, so I guess you had a lot of ground to cover! And I'm really digging the scope of this arc, too!

On your Traveler speculation: I think the three things you outlined are all extremely plausible. There was a reason I labored over Traveler's disclosure and Piccolo's interpretation of it…

Also, you pointed out something extremely interesting about the ramifications of Traveler's visit on events going on in Space at the moment. I am extremely excited to discuss that more when the story permits.

On your Rush speculation: Holy moly, there's a lot here! I should preface this section by admitting that your timeline plotting caused me to do some extensive timeline plotting, so thank you! It helped get my thoughts in line.

1. 100% agree with your characterization of how time travel and the multiverse works. I also find it very interesting that you think Rush is a time traveler. No other reviewer had mentioned that as a possibility up until this point. Your theory is pretty cool, though. RAFO.

2. On Launch: Yeah, it is a bit weird that's she gone to space! But Launch is weird, and she's surrounded herself with weird companions to boot. Extremely interesting to wonder what factors allowed/caused Launch to make this decision… hmm…

3. Glad you're liking Recoome! I thought he could bring a funniness to the story that's sorta unique among all the other characters in the plot atm. As for whether Senzus can regenerate limbs… probably? They can, at the very least, reattach severed limbs. I'm not sold on the former, though. Either way, it isn't applicable in this case, as Bulma doesn't have access to senzu beans, and Korin would definitely not give her one to use on Recoome.

4. In this canon, once Cooler unlocked the fifth form, Frieza's didn't have a lot of wiggle room to be a bad ruler, as it was always his strength that kept him on top of his brother. To a large degree it is for sure Dodoria's fault (starting the escalation into armed conflict in the first place by disobeying Zarbon's orders and letting his subordinates pillage like they would on any other mission), to a smaller degree it's Zarbon's fault (for committing to Dodoria's approach once begun) and to an even smaller degree it's Ginyu's fault (for losing his battle, obviously). What I like about all these faults, however, is that each one is a reflection of the flaws of Frieza. Dodoria and the PTO grunts had no discipline because Frieza could care less about his soldiers having that. Zarbon committed once the army got bloodied because pulling back after suffering substantial losses would have been akin to suicide as long as Frieza was hyper-focused on the possibility of Saiyans. Ginyu was given the side-command by Frieza to backstab and kill Zarbon, which delayed him and the Ginyu Force in totally crushing all resistance on Namek.

Also, even if the people on Namek answered, 'nah, we ain't Saiyans' at the beginning, I'm not sure Zarbon could have justified going back to Lord Frieza empty-handed. Vegeta had still managed to pin the blame on them for destroying Frieza Base FP083. At the very least, I think Zarbon would have demanded they be detained for questioning, and when Frieza is your interrogator… yep.

Your observation that Frieza, not Cooler, kills the Saiyans in the future timeline is extremely interesting.

5. When I said power levels are on their way out, I didn't mean to imply they're gone from the story, period. The Saiyans and the PTO are still likely to say "his power level… it's… over 9000!' or something like that. Expect them to still be present. But tiers are where we're going to end up eventually.

6. Krillin is a chad, along with all the other humans! I've always held the view that a fighter improves better when they're faced with stronger obstacles, sooner. After all, in the five years between the 23rd WMAT and Raditz's arrival, Goku's power level probably increased by, like, 50 or 100. Then, in the span of a year and a half, he's a Super Saiyan. The humans in this fic got lucky (and, obviously, unlucky) to run into stronger fighters sooner.

7. Things are going on with Vegeta… with all the Saiyans, really.

8. One thing I felt comfortable taking from Wheelo's character from the movie is his extreme desire to obtain the world's strongest body. He wouldn't be the type to settle for a mechanical body. But, yes, the plan is… well… you'll see what comes of it soon enough. I also wish to remind you whose proposition it was to do that brain swap thing and how they've been depicted in this fic so far.

9. I guess, kinda? But, IMO, Suno has some grounds to be pissed last chapter. Bulma yanked out her means of training out from under her without telling her. Coupled that with her stress she felt at Jingle Village… well, that's my IMO. She can be a little abrasive/annoying sometimes- not to Launch's extent, but in a sort of "youngest person present" type of way.

10. Everyone's getting some use here! Even Puar and Oolong!

11. Technique and power differences among humans will become apparent once the next big series of confrontations occur. Mark my words!

12. Lol about Piccolo. Lol about the pauldrons xD

13. Perhaps I denigrated the PTO armor a little too much. I like the idea of armor quality being conditional on which rank you have in the PTO- in other words, the grunts have tissue paper and the elites have actual protection. I might change Bulma's thoughts to reflect this.

Thank you for your review!

TienFan99: Interesting set of theories for what's going to happen with the Saiyans! Next episode will give you some direction, I think.

I agree with your commentary on Recoome being a little too verbose. I'm going to do some rewrites of that section over the next day or so..

Thank you for the review!

Cityracer: Thank you for bringing Launch's characterization to my attention. I 100% with what you said. I think, because of all the fighting she's been doing recently, I haven't pulled on her blue personality nearly as much. That being said, I think her trajectory at the end of this arc will do some work to rectify this.

Ginyu had his entire life crushed to dust- and that was before he joined Frieza (that is, I have some backstory for him that I once thought up, but I think what I've just said is pretty in line with others facts I've told by the PTO- elite soldiers are almost exclusively the last survivors of their exterminated race). And, yes- who was that person who approached him?

Kakarot is sorta realizing how the Earth is vastly different from the rest of the galaxy. He hasn't been forced to reckon with his past actions quite yet, though. That'll be an interesting conversation, if it happens…

Only three plotlines? Are you sure you aren't missing one :^)

Ah, I understand your point about full-power Kaioken, now.

I appreciate you chiming in- I both love this fic and understand it isn't for everyone. I've always modeled its originality on something like Dragonball Legends, which is obviously very unique and not recognizable to canon in the slightest. You know, thinking about that fic now- there were so many crazy storylines in that. Cell was a Saiyan? How odd.

And I'm happy you're still enjoying this story! Thanks for the review!

Tapeta: Thank you for your review and thank you for your kind words! They mean a lot.

Hey, I like the Namekian stuff a lot too! One of those many parts of canon where little is explained and a fanfic author can really create something new out of that gap. Though it is interesting to me that you think there's an eventual confrontation between Piccolo and Katas coming. What is Katas's plan, and would it include him coming to Earth?

Glad you liked the scenes on the capsule ship! They were a little new and out of my wheelhouse, but overall, I'm happy they came out as they did!

Launch is a bit of a wildcard in all of this- if she ever found the Saiyans, that is. Though, this chapter seems to imply as much...

Very interesting theory! People are definitely leaning towards the idea that Rush is a time traveler. Makes his identity much more up in the air… And thank you for the review! I appreciate it!

Mr-Legoman: Thank you for the review! And sorry about the cliffhangers! There's another one in this chapter! But, oh well. It happens, lol.

Yeah, definitely an odd grouping for Bez and Mark in space with Launch and Recoome. They're quite strange together.

Bardock and Kakarot had some bad luck running with Vegeta and his gang. Gonna be tough for them to get out of what's coming…

Thank you for your review and your kind words!