The Horse with No Name
Chapter Nineteen
Horse Shit
The Estate, The Realm of the Almighty
Age 780
Gohan's alone, surrounded by fire and blood and murder, all except for him. He sits, nude, smoking a drug of some kind and looking impossibly pleased with himself. Over his lap is spread a child –a baby-, one barely hidden by a thin, dirtying blanket as the man rotates against her.
Gohan can't stop staring as she begs him with her glossy dead eyes.
But he can't move. Nothing works.
Gohan wants to help her but he can't. His legs are cemented and his arms are stitched down.
Blue, bulging eyes suddenly churn upwards. The man grins.
"You look a bit old for me."
He stands and the child falls into obscurity. Death takes her quietly, panning for its next victim.
"Oh, I might make an exception for you."
Gohan wants to lunge forwards. He wants to kill him, to save the unsaved; to do something; anything. But he can't as the man approaches. His entire body has turned to stone and all he can do is play spectator.
Quell's voice plays in his mind. "You want to make a difference for your beloved mortals? Then watch."
The man stops barely a foot away from him, staring down.
Down?
Gohan looks at his hands; small and pudgy, just like the girl's had been. His feet look smaller too –and when was the last time that he'd worn his dragon ball hat?
"What pretty eyes you have."
The hand lunges for him, plunging into obscurity and-
"Lord Mori, wake up! Wake up!"
He does, springing forward, damp and hot with perspiration. Sticky hair slicks to his forehead as he surveys the room, glancing around, cementing his surroundings. He's in his room.
Wobbly, his breath steadies.
It's okay. It had been a dream.
"My lord…"
Gohan buries his face into clammy hands, shaking his head. "I'm fine."
"You were shouting."
He breathes out a long breath, trying to sound amused, trying to sound in control. "Yeah, I do that, you know, for the attention."
Myra doesn't laugh. She doesn't even scold him.
Gohan releases another gust of breath, this time sighing. "Don't worry, Myra. It was just a nightmare."
"Are you unwell?"
"No, I'm-"
"Stressed?"
"Busy. I'm just busy. I'm neither stressed nor sick so stop freaking out." He rises and makes his way to his elongated wardrobe, pulling out today's robes. A look is spared for her, brow pulled. "And what do you want on this fine morning? I told you that I don't want you sneaking into my room anymore."
"I'm not sneaking, my lord, I heard your shouting."
"From outside?"
"It was loud shouting."
"And you just happened to be outside? Enjoying the views of my door, were you?"
Her cheeks puff. "As much a lovely door that it is, sir, I came to bring you the book you had ordered from the Grand Geo Library."
Gohan swivels, clapping his hands. "Excellent. Gimme' please!"
"I couldn't read the cover," she hums, gesturing to a mountain of a book sitting on his chest of drawers. It's tired and ripped at the spine, looking to be older than any other book Gohan has yet come into contact with. He wonders if he'll have to wear gloves to read it. The fear of disintegration is real.
"I don't expect you to be able to understand it," Gohan says, trying not to sound too snotty about it. "It's written in a dead language, the saiyan language to be precise. Not that it's any of your business, nosey."
"The saiyans could read?"
He snorts. "Some. Even the saiyan race had scholars, Myra."
"…Are you sure?"
"I can read very well."
Myra pulls her lip, thinking hard. "But you're not a real saiyan, are you? You've just borrowed some of their genetic makeup."
"I don't plan on giving it back," he laughs, "And just because you're privy to such things doesn't mean you get to be a big fat racist and call my people dumb."
"Ehh? I didn't mean it that way. You know that!"
"Oh," Gohan starts, hand to heart, wounded as he leans against the wall, "How I'm even judged by my own assistant. Won't the pain ever end?"
"I'm not judging you!"
"And just what have we saiyans done to deserve this? The crime apparently is illiteracy."
"My lor-"
"And here I thought that you were of a modern mind, young Myra. I thought the next generation were one of hope."
"L-"
"Stop, you're only going to make it worse now. Let's just use this as a learning experience and move forward. There's no shame in changing, you know."
"I know-"
"So we'll walk the path…" Gohan humbly continues. He takes her hand. "Together."
But Myra is not impressed. "…Are you done, sir?"
Gohan lets go, collects the book from the chest of drawers and taps her on the head with it, suddenly serious. "Don't open my packages."
She catches on quick. "A-Ah. Sorry, my lord."
"Forgiven."
"It's just…Lord Quell asked me to be more cautious as of late."
"That's probably due to increased Zealite activity," Gohan tells her, "but regardless, you don't report to him. You report to me. I don't want him giving you orders if you can so help it. I know you can't refuse him but just try and keep out of his way for the meantime, all right? Same for Rixas too, actually; he's been nipping at my heels more often recently. Something's been bugging him…"
She nods, looking unsure, anxious really.
So Gohan swoops down, wasting no time. He gives her a peck on the forehead.
Her reaction is immediate, what with the flurry of fists beating at his chest, her blue cheeks pink. To Gohan, it was definitely worth it.
"W-Why would you?!"
"Ooh. Are you really striking your lord?"
"Don't tease me!"
But it's so easy and Gohan loves the reaction.
And I didn't like that expression you were making…
So many people are making it these days. Why are they all so apprehensive now? Why do they look at Gohan as though he's died all over again? What's with the concern?
"Lord Mori, you should know better than to engage physically with the help!" she scolds, finger pressing forward. "You honestly astonish me!"
"Well, I'm pleased to be a revelation and not a disappointment."
She clicks her tongue. "Lord Rixas has been quite the influence on you, indeed. I would have thought Lord Quell-"
"Wow, look at the time. Thanks for dropping by, Myra, it's been lovely." Gohan folds the book under his arm and cranes a neck in the direction of the door. "It's always a treat to see you this early. Once again, you've proven yourself a wonderful alarm clock."
"But today's agenda-"
"Is empty. Aren't I lucky?" Her little plaits bob up and down like they always do when she's frustrated. Gohan sends her his best smile to assert his victory. "I'm sure you're busy today, what with helping Quell's exquisite assistant with whatever you guys do when we don't need your services."
She sours. "Yes… that."
"Chin up," he advises, "Cross hates me too. We're a team against his petty bitchiness, yes?"
"Yes."
They're at his door now, and she turns to look at him, stare thick with scrutiny. Her foot wedges neatly between the door and the frame and that anxious expression returns, full force. Gohan has to stop himself slamming said door in her face.
"You're… okay, right, sir?"
This time, his best smile doesn't ring of victory. It's strained. "Please don't worry about me, Myra. I'm honestly fine. I'm just… a bit overworked. Don't sweat it."
"…I understand..."
She's a bad liar but Gohan doesn't hesitate in bidding her a brisk goodbye. When the door is shut, he slides against it, book in hand, frowning as he stares up at the white of the ceiling. Swirls interweave delicately and Gohan stares vacantly at each spiral. Their design comes together, building, shaping and morphing into the darkest of his imagination.
"What pretty eyes you have."
He sighs, pinching just above the bridge of his nose.
Why can't the image leave him? Why does it stick to him, now stitched into the fabric of his mind?
Because it's the face of depravity and true evil, that's why.
Gohan wants to relive that moment sometimes, just so he can kill the bastard again and again. The death had been too quick the first time. Had the guy even felt pain? To Gohan, it hadn't been enough. He feels like it'll never be enough.
But… that's not him. He's not vengeful. These thoughts… they're foreign, Gohan knows that. It's as if they've infiltrated his mind. They're Mori's. They must be, he thinks, just because the person he is isn't that vicious. Gohan is not bloodthirsty.
He doesn't serve self-satisfaction. What he subscribes to is purer than that.
"With such power, any goal can be achieved," the kai had whispered down to him, "Combined with your enhanced ki, you'd be unstoppable, and together, we'd achieve our aim, your aim."
"And what is my goal, Zamasu? You seem so certain that you know."
"To get rid of ki, of course."
He hadn't been wrong. Gohan'll give him that much.
And Gohan senses truth to Zamasu, at least in this situation, but that hadn't stopped him in shutting down the kai once again. Gohan refuses to cooperate with such a guy. The slimy asshole had been a part of the orchestration to kill Quell; he'll never trust a person like that, nor will he forgive him.
And Gohan had said as much to him back on that planet. Instead of the expected disappointment, Zamasu had looked neither rejected nor dejected, choosing to simply smile and accept Gohan's answer. The lack of any fight concerns Gohan even now. Zamasu had seemed to let it go all too easily.
Does he think Gohan will eventually crawl to him and beg for help? Is Zamasu really that confident?
God, Gohan doesn't like him. He really, really doesn't like the guy. Whatever happened between Zamasu and Mori can stay that way. And yes, whilst the kai had been right about the likelihood of Quell interfering, Gohan will find a way to persuade him. At best, trusting Zamasu is a gamble, one devoid of good morals. At worst, it's simply pulling an enemy closer, and whilst Gohan feels confident in one day enacting his beliefs, he doesn't feel confident enough to do it alongside someone who will inevitably betray him.
So he'll carry this burden alone for now.
The book under his arm is then rotated, flicked open and delicately peered through. Untidy scrawl faces back in a series of looping 'O's and peppered dots. It's timeworn and will be difficult to decipher, especially with many of the pages being as faded as they are. Cryptographers and linguists alike have definitely taken a crack at, he notices. There are sheets of papers bookmarked at certain pages, ones littered in notes.
Gohan is no code breaker by any means and so he's thankful for the extra advice. As much as he can read the saiyan language (thanks Mori), understanding the meaning marks an entirely new challenge.
'The Saiyan Principles – Vegeta of Aubergreen Fields'
The cover is barely legible, clearly setting precedence.
All right, then… Let's see what this says about a super saiyan god.
The Tournament Grounds, Earth
Age 780
Trunks whistles lowly. "God, this is really hitting the fan."
He and Goten are watching, amongst others still in the stadium, the carnage of Goku Son getting his ass beat. This Beerus guy is a monster. Goten has never seen anything like it. His dad had charged up from Super Saiyan to the third ascension in no time, practically skipping the second. The long hair, the thinned brows, the crushing of energy; everything that resembles the form is not at all worn as a crown.
Dad courses fast, once again, when the beast above strikes him. The hair follows; its golden shine trailing sadly until its owner smashes into the dirt, where it's lost in a collision of soot and debris. Dust clouds explode, censoring the impact and all Goten can do is watch. That is all any of them have been able to do.
Dad hadn't stood a chance from the moment the fight began. The Supreme Kai had kept saying as much, had kept begging the Lord Beerus-god to cease, but there had been no stopping this.
When his dad had first powered up, Goten had thought it would be fine. He'd been training to extensively, so obsessively that it had come as no surprise when they'd all been overwhelmed with the incredible climb of his power level. The Earth had shook. It had quite possibly cracked in some places. The transformation had been immense…
…And apparently meaningless.
Lord Beerus is currently throwing him around like a rag doll, looking bored as he does so.
"Where's your dad?" Goten asks Trunks, urgent. "Can't he do anything?"
"He's still being healed," his friend snaps, "Not that it makes a difference. What can he do against that, Goten? The guy is a monster!"
"They could fuse. Should we fuse?"
Trunks whirls. "W-What? No! Gotenks is nothing to that guy –and what? You want to fuse after all these years? At best, Fat Gotenks might appear."
"But the Earth!"
"I know!"
There's an explosion behind. Goten turns just in time to see Dad backhanded in retaliation. The horrid cat's claw-hand had barely flexed but even from here, a crunch of breaking bones can be heard.
Goten's heart twists. "We can't do nothing! He'll die!"
"What can we do?"
He doesn't know but watching this is akin to torture. God, his dad was right. He should have been training more. There are always threats to the Earth, it's never safe –they need to always be vigilant. And now, because he ignored his dad's pleas, his dad is going to die, and going off of what Piccolo earlier said, everyone's going to die.
Oh God, oh God…
He clutches his head and breathes, panicking.
"Go back home, Goten," Piccolo says from behind, cold. "If you can't handle what you're looking at then go home to your mother."
Goten rotates and takes the asshole by his stupid cape. "Can't you do something? You've been training together, right?"
"Knock it off!"
"Goten, you've got to calm down," The Supreme Kai tells him, "There's little any of us can do at this stage. I have some the Kai people looking for Whis right now."
He hiccoughs, letting go. "W-Who?"
"He's the one person Lord Beerus listens to. He'll be around here somewhere. If we find him then I'm sure he can talk some sense into Lord Beerus."
"How long is that going to take? My dad could die out there –and there are no dragon balls!"
Trunks' hand extends. "Breathe, Goten."
"Go get your dad!" Goten orders, pulling free. "They can take him on together. If they fus-"
Another explosion rips out. This time, it's blinding and burning hot. The sky blinks white as a ripple of ki curves in waves for miles. Fiery flames jet around, ones that sting at the skin; all an unfortunate aftermath of the latest rebuff from Beerus. He sends energy blasts, one after another in quick succession, chasing the lagging form of his dad. Most miss, but the ones that hit detonate dramatically.
Hot air sends several humans onto their backs.
"Move!" finally cries out the voice Goten has been yearning to hear.
Vegeta.
He's better late than never, dashing past them and into the sky, pursuing the two figures in the distance. To Goten's surprise, Vegeta has reached the third form as well. When he soars past, his hair nearly slaps them all, equally golden and monstrous. Whilst his energy hasn't peaked close to the level his dad's has, it's still impressive. But is it enough?
Instead, it seems more help is on the way.
"Buu help too!" cries out Buu, running on his pudgy legs to the edge of the ring. He bounces up and into the thick of the fight, reaching it just before Vegeta manages to.
Seconds later, other warriors land. He spots Yamcha first, and then the wayward android, Seventeen. Goten stumbles and runs over to where Eighteen and Krillin touch down.
"What's going on?" Krillin asks, horrified.
"He's gonna' destroy Earth!" Goten exclaims, "He's gonna' do it unless Dad and the others stop him."
Tienshinhan and the small white one arrive next. But what can they do?
It's like they've come to spectate the end of the world. All any of them can do is morbidly watch as Beerus continues to pick Dad apart, and then Vegeta and then Buu when they charge in. Still, the asshole has the audacity to look uninterested as he breaks their defences. Every punch dodged, every move deflected just seems to be a hindrance.
When Vegeta drives a fist into the god's abdomen, it's effortlessly caught. Beerus takes him and swings him around, letting go just so the man can topple straight into Dad and Buu. This, at least, gives Piccolo the nudge needed to join.
He flies up with an impressive speed of his own. Of course, he would have known that there's little he can do against Beerus, but it's enough to distract him just so the others can collect themselves.
With horror, Goten notices that his dad has dropped out of the third form, falling into the second. He's tired. There are wounds littering his body. The way he's holding his ribs definitely indicate a breakage.
Oh God.
"Who is that?" Krillin asks. "What happened?"
"It's a god. He wants to kill these strange fighters here," he tries to explain, however at a loss how. "And… and he thinks it'll be easier this way –to blow up the Earth. I don't know. I…"
Krillin balks. "A god?"
Eighteen sighs. The noise makes Goten want to strangle her.
"Don't look at me like that," she says, tone annoyingly cool, "I just find it exhausting at how unsurprised I am by all of this. Of course, Goku has found himself fighting hand-to-hand against a god."
It's hardly 'hand-to-hand' as she so puts it. His dad and the others are taking a hell of a beating out there.
Yamcha makes his way over the moment the building in front collapses. He and Krillin beat away the falling rocks before Goten realises what's going on. Following that, Eighteen has to drag him out of harm's way when Buu's bubble-gum-pink blob of a body comes crashing down into the rubble.
Goten doubts he's getting up after that.
"What a mess!" Yamcha calls out. He's panting heavily as he slaps away the white dust from his ruined suit. "Oh man, I'm not up to this anymore."
"We're getting old," Krillin agrees.
And that's why Dad wanted me to train, Goten thinks. He wants me to take the mantle. He needs me to be Earth's champion after he's gone. Ugh, the thought makes him nauseous.
"Speak for yourselves," Tienshinhan comments, approaching. "I may not be able to take on monsters like that guy, but I'm as strong as I've ever been."
Yamcha scoffs. "Tch, those wrinkles around your third eye tell a different story."
There's no reply, with Tienshinhan instead turning his attention to the fight above. Piccolo's out. He's somewhere in the mountain range miles away, deposited there when Beerus sent him spiralling with a particularly well-aimed kick.
Vegeta is barely hanging on in there.
"Why don't they fuse?" Goten demands of the crowd. "I don't get it."
Krillin awkwardly laughs. "Got any spare earrings for 'em?"
And they haven't fused using the fusion dance either. They might not even be compatible for the technique. But with thinking that, the Supreme Kai might have some of those earrings… Just as Goten goes to turn, he's anxious to find the kai gone. There's not a trace of him. Trunks stands alone, eyes wide like saucers as he watches his own dad taste carnage.
Soon, however, he runs forward when Vegeta drops out of Super Saiyan, and then out of the sky. He's ready, beneath the fight with extended arms when Vegeta finally crashes down.
That leaves his dad alone once more.
"What a joke this planet and its people are," Beerus calls out. "I am beyond disappointed in you all. At least you, down there, have enough self-preservation about you. To prolong your life as much as you can by not attempting to fight is quite possibly the only thing you can do."
Was… was that dig? Goten clenches his fists.
Out of everyone left, he and Trunks are the strongest now. Maybe they should fuse and give it their best. What other options are there? If they do nothing then the Earth will be destroyed… Not even the dragon balls can help them now.
So he turns, his chest expanding as he goes to call out for Trunks. But at that exact moment, there's a flurry of burning air ripping against them as yet another explosion sounds out. It's fiercer than the others, uprooting the stage completely, thrashing against the stone wall of the stadium. Goten is surprised that it still stands. Debris comes crashing down and a second wind blows the surrounding spectators back.
The teenager is not spared. He's plucked, pulled and vacuumed into the air and heat. There's little he can do to fight it he realises. He closes his eyes against the flurry of shrapnel cutting into his cheeks as he's thrown around. Like it had been under that dome, it's dark once more. The dust clouds have blocked out the light and Goten spins blindly.
He spirals until the gust becomes bored with him. Upon eventually being slapping back down to Earth, the teenager grunts. Agony stings up and down his back.
All around, the dust falls like snow. It coats not only him but the stadium and the broken stage. There's something peaceful about it. Amongst the languid dusty descent, Goten sees and hears little else. His ears ring somewhat, but he knows all around is silence.
It's eerie.
"Dad?" Goten croaks, sitting up. "Dad, where are you?"
He goes to stand, slipping on the powdery residue. When he falls, his hand finds itself resting on something long-thought lost.
The Power Pole.
It'd survived the onslaught.
Its sleek red body is greyed only a little by the dust, most of which falls off when Goten plucks it from the rubble. Considering the excitement, it's managed to remain remarkably unscathed, holding up sturdily in Goten's grip. With his father's pole in his hand, Goten surveys the land for its owner. Fog hangs in the air but it's thinning.
"Dad?" he tries once more, and then; "Trunks? …Krillin?"
Panic begins to set in. Goten hates being alone. He batters the grey clouds, coughing, trying to find someone –anyone.
However, when he tries to call out again, he's interrupted with a clap of nearby energy. The once settled dust rises once more as a flash unfolds violently. He's forced backwards again onto his backside.
The flash evolves into two forms, one of which flays harshly against the heap of a broken building.
"Dad!"
His father rolls repeatedly, ultimately only stopping when the momentum dies. Beerus also stops, albeit far more gracefully. Toes tap down mere feet away from the dishevelled and beaten body of his dad, lording over him, smirking like the evil asshole he's shown himself to be.
Goten wants to move. He tries shouting out but there's a frog in his throat.
Get up, Dad. Get up!
But he doesn't. There's a spurt of blood when he coughs, however. He hoarsely hacks up when he tries to speak. No longer is he any form of Super Saiyan. His hair would be jet black if not for the dust, making Goten realise how ugly this snowfall really is.
The grey against red, against more consuming grey…
It's starting to bury them all.
Goten feels like he's choking on it.
Dad…
"How disappointing. You did not even manage to draw a single drop of blood from me. Whilst I was able to bring down every miserable fighter this rock has to offer, I remain bored," drawls Beerus. "The Supreme Kai owes me an apology for building up such high expectations."
Finally, his dad cranes his neck up, spitting out a wad of red. His voice is strained. "You don't have to do this."
"Save your speeches. I have heard them all before in a variety of flavours. You good and virtuous types; how you bore me each time."
"Heh. You met many like me?"
"Many," complains the god, "So I do not understand the Supreme Kai's fondness for you and your people. You're about as weak as any other mortal I have come into contact with thus far."
Even dying, his dad manages to laugh. "You're real strong, in all fairness."
"What a shame that I could not say the same about you."
Goten wants to run forward. He wants to help –he wants to run to his dad, to save him, but his feet won't move. Has the dust cemented them in place? In the palm of his hand, the Power Pole starts to slip against the sweat forming there.
"So is that a no on the rematch then?" Dad jokes. A guttural grasp of hacking then takes him, giving a chance for Beerus to advance.
His foot rises and plants itself on the ripped fabric that was once a gi. Behind, the tail flickers. "I cannot figure it out. Why had the Supreme Kai been so interested? Tell me, mortal."
"I think it's –ech—I think it's because of my winning smile."
Oh… Dad, you idiot.
"Don't play with me, Goku Son!" The foot soars and falls against his chest once again, this time with vigour. Dad folds in two around it, spluttering. "Answer me!"
"D-Dad!" His voice inches out as a squeak yet it's apparently enough. Both pairs of eyes turn to him.
If possible, Dad's face goes whiter. "Goten…"
"Who's this? The prodigal son?" Beerus' ears twitch as he considers the teenager. "Perhaps he can help me with my question. Come to me, boy."
Even if Goten wanted to, he can't. The tidal waves of power exuding from this monster nearly has him on his knees. He's shaking. Just having this horrible god stare at him makes him wobbly.
"G-Get away from my d-dad."
"What are you doing? Goten, get out of here!" Dad hollers, newly energized and furious. "Go!"
"Be quiet," Beerus orders, "Now, you, come here."
"Go!"
"Come to me now."
Goten looks between them, breath thin.
Dad…
"Go home!"
The Earth… I…
"Boy, I will not ask again."
I… I don't know what to—
"Fly outta' here-"
"Oh, be quiet, you."
I'm scared. I don't want everyone to die…
Then there's a scream, one of curdling agony. It's his dad's. Above, Beerus' leg swings back for yet another strike, fast and precise. To Goten, it's all in this horrible slow motion. Blood liberally spills, slowly pooling as the static in Goten's ears scream.
"DAD!"
The foot closes in once again just as it happens. It's all far too quick for anyone to react. As if by its own accord, the pole in Goten's hand starts to extend. The growth is rapid. It extends and extends, developing so swiftly that none of them expect it to strike a target.
One moment, Beerus is above his dad and the next, the edge of the pole catches him directly under his chin, propelling him hard and fast into the opposing direction.
There's a crash in the distance.
O-Oh God. Oh no...
What have I done? I'm next, aren't I?
The teenager's legs just about carry him over to the sprawled form of his father. Two very tired eyes revolve upwards.
"D-Dad," he manages, throat tightening. "I… I'm sorry."
"G-Go," he orders, weak.
"I can't leave you."
His dad achieves his typical smile, despite the bloodied gums and missing teeth. "Your dad's g-got this."
"You're dying."
"Heh-heh. Maybe."
"Dad."
"Goten," he breathes, smiling and reaching out for him.
There's no hesitation in taking his hand. Fingers encircle fingers.
"I'm scared," Goten admits thickly. "Tell me what to do."
"I'm trying," Dad laughs, exhausted, "Go home."
His throat feels like it is being squeezed. He's choking on sadness. When the tears start pouring thick and fast, Goten's left unsurprised. "I can't leave you."
"I am sick of this wretched planet!" booms Beerus' voice from above. There's a trail of red from his nose. His finger points directly between the two of them as he approaches. "How dare you, not once, but twice, strike me when unprepared? This underhanded, foul little mud-ball shall perish gladly!"
"I didn't mean to-"
"I will take that stick and snap it to pieces!" he continues, incensed. Said stick lies where Goten had dropped it, looking innocent. The god's attention shifts to him. "First, I'll deal with this rude child and then you will give up your secrets, Goku Son!"
Step by step, Goten's apparent opponent approaches.
I'm going to die.
The Estate, The Realm of the Almighty
Age 780
The icy steel rests against the nape of Gohan's neck as he tries his best to ignore the idiot, but it eventually ends with him closing his book, rotating and giving a guttural sort of sigh.
"I'm busy, Rixas. Are you deaf or stupid?"
The sword doesn't lower, now pointing into the nook of Gohan's throat. Rixas' grin doesn't lower either. A most authorial voice is equipped. "I have been training and I demand your presence in the courtyard, dear Mori of Revelation… I wanna' prick ya'."
"Request rejected."
"Eh-eh-eh. I'm not requesting."
Gohan bats the sword south. "We're in the library for god's sake, put it away."
"I've been practicing all month for this. Are you really gonna' make me cry and beg? I'll do it, you know. I'm definitely not above it."
Oh, Gohan believes that. He breathes out, amused as he imagines Rixas on all fours, kissing his feet as he grovels. The little psycho will do anything to quench the thirst of a good fight.
"C'mawwwn, Mori."
"Lower that thing before I snap it clean in two."
"Just one round."
"No. I'm busy."
"You're always busy."
"Yet here you are."
"Eh, don't be a brat." Rixas' lip puckers. "I just wanna' train with my little bro."
"Oh? I thought you wanted to train solo," Gohan teases, leaning against the leather of his chair. "I wouldn't want to interrupt that, you know."
Rixas drops the sword by his side, suddenly turned. "You started it. You went off to seek out the Warriors of Light for your special secret training."
"Amongst others," Gohan goads, smug. "I didn't think you'd retaliate like a bitter old lady."
"Ehh, others?"
"I'd thought you'd relish the competition."
"I do!" The sword rises again. "I just didn't think you were gonna' be all sneaky about it."
"I'm not. I just didn't report it to you."
"Sneaky."
"Am I not allowed a life separate from you guys?" Gohan sighs, scratching the back of his head. "Sheesh, you're both as bad as each other."
Rixas has the gall to look hurt. "I just thought we were having a good time. I was showing you a lot of cool stuff."
"Yeah but I wanna' learn new stuff from other people too. Isn't it much more exciting that way? Do you really want me as your student forever? I'll never be a good challenge if you know all my moves."
"No… I guess not."
"Isn't there someone else you can go play with?"
"You know Quell isn't back yet."
"Yes, and I'm enjoying the peace and quiet until he is."
"You've become an old man."
"And you're still a toddler. Now go play with the other kids. Don't you have an entire squad of fighters or something?"
Rixas tilts his sword, leaning against one of Gohan's precious bookcases with obtuse disregard for the ancient materials stacked there. He's quick to flick his filthy fingers through the materials.
"I'm not the best at managing people. I let Roarg do that stuff, you know that… God, Mori, these books are older than me. Aren't you bored of all this yet? It's dreary as hell."
"Don't touch tha-"
The book batters the desk as Rixas turns page after page. "The saiyans again, huh? What does this bit say? My Saiyan-Speak is really basic."
"It says that you should get your murky hands away from my books."
"Oh, see, I think it says that you're being a pussy and you should come and train with your brother."
It's petty but Gohan can't help but rise. Something about Rixas still triggers him to this day. "Actually, it says that your inferiority complex is pissing me off and that you need a hobby besides bench-pressing your massive swords."
"Eh? Who do I feel inferior to? You?"
Gohan pulls the book away. "If the shoe fits."
"That's it." A stream of air blows through Rixas' nose much like a bull's would. "Get your ass up before I blow this entire library to hell. We're doing this."
"Get off of me, you lout! I can't help it if you're bored!"
"I'll pummel you into the dirt. Then we'll see who's inferior."
"I don't wanna' fight you!"
Rixas is brutish and bigger and therefore has no problem manhandling Gohan out of the estate's library. Several of the estate's workers watch as he's dragged out in the most degrading headlock imaginable. When they pass Cross, Gohan hears the prick click his tongue, an action that tells Gohan to expect this to get back to Quell in no time at all.
This isn't the first time Rixas has dragged Gohan to the courtyard, and it isn't the first time that he's gone kicking and screaming. But it's the first time that Rixas has done it with such a level of ferocity. It's actually a bit unnerving. There's a look of steely determination that solidifies the guy as the fierce warrior that he is; a look Gohan hasn't seen since the incident on Yardrat.
Soon enough, Gohan is deposited outside the weaponry.
"Pick your sword."
Gohan grunts, standing. His robes are filthy.
"Thug," he mumbles.
Rixas ignores him and sheds his own robes, showcasing his usual jumpsuit. He flexes, stretches and jumps in place as Gohan watches with thinned eyes.
"I'm not gonna' go easy on ya," Rixas says.
"Urgh…You know what?" Knuckles are cracked. "Fine. Fine, let's just get this over with."
His brother has the audacity to smirk, throwing his head back. "If you don't hurry and pick a sword then I won't hesitate to slice your arms free."
In response, Gohan shrugs his outer layer of robes free and extends a hand. The space between his fingers electrifies with ki as the air fogs, pulsing. Its transparency is tested. Where there was once nothing, blue fabric begins to form. It swivels around that of a hilt. Its ribboned body dances mid-air until fully formed, spiralling around and around until it stretches more. White steel then breathes from the base; it is thin and fine and shines with new-born glory.
Gohan wields the sword deftly, as though it's a part of his arm.
Rixas stares. "Well, you've been a busy boy, I see. Quell teach you that party trick?"
"You wanted this, Rixas. Don't sulk."
"Sulk? I'm pleased." He blows a whistle. "To think that you've learned manifestation at this level already… Anything else you wanna' whip out?"
Why is he more confident than usual?
"What have you been preparing for me, Rixas? What's up your sleeve?"
Rixas wags a finger, grinning. "Eh-eh. You've gotta' wait and see."
Something doesn't sit right with Gohan.
As Rixas turns to reach into the weaponry for another sword, Gohan pulls at his shoulder. He just about catches a glimpse of something not resembling mirth –Rixas is unable to catch himself in time. His face is tightly drawn.
"Hey, are you really that pissed about my training?" Gohan asks, "You're angry."
"N-No, don't be stupid."
"Rixas."
"I'm not hurt. It just annoyed me a bit considering we'd been training together. I thought you'd at least say something before moving on."
"Like I said, it's just time for me to branch out. I wasn't moving on. It's not like we never train together."
"You were sneaky."
Gohan groans.
"You were sneaky and didn't tell me you were doing it."
"Why does it even bother you? We're both adults."
Rixas splutters. "Barely. You're still a kid, aren't you? You're still Gohan or whatever."
"Oh, I'm him when it conveniences you, huh?" He scrapes his hair back, groaning once more. "Goddamn it, Rixas. What's this really about? Are you really that bothered about me overpowering you? Is that it?"
"N-No! Not that you can ov-"
"Then what? Do you think I'm gonna' suddenly turn and betray you –like I did Quell all those years ago?"
"No!" It's more certain this time at least.
"Then what?"
"I… I don't know!"
Gohan breathes out, dropping his sword. "What?"
"I don't know," Rixas repeats, weaker. "I don't… I just…" He shrugs, sighing hard. "It's like you're…"
And then he turns, giving Gohan that same look Myra had earlier; that anxious expression. Summersaults bubble in his stomach and he wants to shout –wants to shout until Rixas stops looking at him like that.
"I'm what? I'm still here. I'm still me!"
Rixas swallows, nodding. The unease wrought into his features dissolve somewhat but his tone is thick with worry. "My gut feeling is telling me something is off with you, is all. It's… just like before, like when you died and became someone else."
Gohan has to laugh. It's an awkward sound. "You think I wanna' go through all that again?"
"I don't know what you wanna' do, Brother. I think that's the problem."
"Jeez." His hand swipes against black locks. "Rixas, it's not like I have any plans on going anywhere. Is that why you're trying to keep me in check? Are you scared of me going AWOL again?"
"I dunno'. I guess. Maybe." Rixas doesn't even know himself; the idiot. "My gut's never wrong."
Gohan scoffs. "Oh, well, I mean if your gut says… I mean, you can't ignore that, can you?"
"Don't be an asshole. I have good reason to worry," Rixas tries to scold.
"Rixas, you're fretting over nothing."
"You don't get to say that. Really, you don't! After you were stupid and reincarnated yourself, you made us think you were dead. Do you know what that feels like? Do you remember how it'd felt when Famis died? It's… It's worse than torture. It's not just as simple as mourning. It's like someone took your soul and ripped a quarter of it free.
And now you're up to shady, sneaky shit –just like last time- and you don't expect me to worry?"
"I'm not gonna' do anything stupid!"
"Then communicate with me! Talk to me! I am your brother!"
"Yeah, my brother, not my parent. I don't need to report what I do to you, or to Quell for that matter."
Rixas clicks his tongue, folding his arms. "He might as well be. If you don't want to tell me what you've got going on then you should at least speak to him about it."
"I've got nothing going on!" Yet.
There's a pause, one where he meets Rixas' sturdy gaze head-on. "What you didn't see," he says so very seriously, "Was my heart break into two when you died."
Gohan's voice lowers, becoming small. "And how many times do I need to apologize for that? I can't change history, Rixas."
"When you died and came back, we got a second chance. I'm not about to let that go, y'know? When I first saw you in that hospital bed, I made a promise to myself not to let you die again. I won't let you die, Mori, even if I have to stop your stupid ass from committing whatever crazy shit you wanna' get up to."
In a strange way, Gohan's touched. He breathes out harshly, scratching the back of his head. "This is kind of heavy for us."
"Yeah… well… It's all true."
"I'm sorry."
"Mmm…"
"I'm not going to do anything, okay?"
"…Sure."
Gohan nudges his shoulder. "I… I love you?"
Rixas snorts, scoffing, trying not to smile.
"Oi, I said that I love you."
"You said it as a question. It's void."
"I love you, now stop being a possessive idiot and tell me that you love me too so we can get on with our day."
Rixas raises a singular brow, attempting to be stubborn.
This is his chance. Gohan doesn't hesitate in reaching out for the giant moron, bringing him in tight. He wedges his hand into the jungle of blonde atop his head and ruffles, much like Rixas has done to him in the past. "It's fine. I know that you love me. Look, if I wanna' do crazy shit or run away, I'll run it by you first, okay?"
"Ehhh! Knock it off-"
But Gohan leans in, enjoying the role reversal. "Big bwother is worried, eh?"
"Mori-"
"You think I'm gonna' go all 'Psychopath-Mori' again and plan to rule the universe? Mmm, I don't know… That sounds like a lot of work."
Rixas grabs at his hand mid-ruffle. He's uncharacteristically solemn; those molten eyes sharp as he stares Gohan down. "You'd tell me though, right, if you were planning anything serious?"
Gohan stares at his brother. Yes, he would –and he will. When he cements what he wants to do in the future then Rixas will be the first he tells. He plans on keeping nothing from him.
"Yeah."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
He's made no secret of his distaste of the warring and ki-use. Rixas isn't stupid despite how he acts; he must have put two and two together and realised that Gohan won't accept this lying down. Still, no plans are made just yet.
"All right," Rixas eventually says. He lets go just to pull Gohan into a tighter hug, kissing his temple. "No horse shit, okay?"
Gohan laughs, slapping his back. "No horse shit."
They do train, but it's not intense and ends with them mucking around more than anything. Neither is injured and so they decide that they're socially acceptable enough to go for food in one of the taverns in the city. Gohan hasn't been for a while and he finds it oddly enjoyable. It's nice to be somewhere that isn't a dystopian planet or a library.
Roarg joins them after a bit. She'd been out scouting the area and had caught wind of them being here. The mood is good. Gohan drinks no more than two beverages, listens to the live music and chats with two people he hasn't spared enough time for recently.
It's oddly nostalgic. Gohan remembers his days when he'd be out in clubs, snorting and swallowing questionable goods. Now, it feels quaint as he sits in this humble eatery. He's comfortable here. Gohan finally feels like an adult.
For this time, he's actually content.
It changes momentarily when Rixas decides to go bother the barkeep.
"He's worried about you," Roarg says over her glass.
"We spoke. I'm aware."
"I am too; worried."
Gohan looks at her.
"Lord Rixas does not understand his feelings," she continues, "But I think I speak for both of us when I say this…" She turns, leaning in close, "I think we're seeing a lot more of the older Lord Mori in you these days."
He refuses to balk, instead choosing humour as his defence. "Does that make you want to kiss me?" A smirk twitches at his lips. "Have you missed him?"
Credit to her, she doesn't even blink. "I definitely prefer who you are now if that's what you are asking."
What?
Roarg smiles her own smirk, chuckling as she takes a sip of her drink.
Gohan takes the time to look over to his brother. He's currently behind the bar, hassling the workers and pouring shots for several patrons sitting in front. They applaud him when he flairs and catches the bottle from behind.
The younger god sees this as the perfect opportunity. He leans forward once Roarg puts her glass down, kissing her on the lips. It's brisk but firm, and whilst she doesn't offer much in return, she doesn't move away. When Gohan pulls back, her gaze is one of conflict.
"I don't expect anything," Gohan says quickly, "Just so you know."
There's a hum.
"You all right? I'm sorry if…"
"No, don't. You do not need to apologize, Mori…" She sighs. "I think it was a bad idea the first time for us to become involved like we did. It will only be worse the second, especially with a history such as yours, and mine too. That and I refuse to disrespect Lord Rixas by harbouring anything with his brother again."
Gohan nods before sipping at his own drink. "Yeah, I guessed as much."
"Then why did you kiss me?"
"Because I wanted to –I think I have for a while." He says, playing casual. "But you're definitely too good for me so don't worry."
Roarg smiles something sad and Gohan wants to kiss her again. If it were a different time and place, and if they were different people with different expectations, he would have. Instead, he takes her knuckles and kisses those.
"You're the second assistant I've kissed this week so don't feel too special."
She laughs, though still sad. "You know, I think what you just did just confirmed my earlier statement."
"Oh?"
"About the old Lord Mori…"
I think we're seeing a lot more of the older Lord Mori in you these days.
Discomforted, he lets go. Roarg's hand slips from his, finger by finger, and he watches her watch him. Her uneasiness equals his and just as Gohan goes to reply, goes to defend himself, Rixas reappears with a tray of rainbow shots.
"You can have one, Mori. Don't give me your bullshit about sobriety tonight. It's been far too long, eh –is everything okay? What happened?"
Roarg recovers first. "Lord Rixas, you should not go overboard, you have to make an appearance at the warrior convention tomorrow, bright and early."
"Whaaaat? No! That's tomorrow? I'd completely forgotten! Can't we reschedule?"
"It's an annual affair…"
"But we're having a good time. Mori is-"
Gohan zones out at this point, hearing Roarg's words over and over, echoing and bouncing around as if his mind is a soundboard. He simply exists, nodding and replying at the right times, laughing when Rixas says a joke he can't comprehend. Roarg's words stay in the back of his head all night. Even when he gets home and sits back down in front of his books, it still bothers him.
I'm not him, not really.
The saiyan research lays in front of him in an organized mess.
Mori's research...
The saiyan book, with its ancient writings and damaged pages, stares back in expectation. Gohan has only read it every day since receiving it, giving it nearly all of his time as he plies through page after page with a hungry need for answers. There's little content of worth, however.
Does this desire for answers come from Mori's desire? We're walking the same path apparently, according to Zamasu, though I wonder how much his word is worth… Should I be more concerned…?
He's not even buzzed from the drinks, nor is he tired. If anything, he feels a bit anxious from all the interaction, but he can't let that hold him back now. First, he'll find the answers and then he'll worry about how it all aligns with Mori once he puts something together.
Speaking of Mori… his research has proven to be pretty thorough. Gohan finds it hard to believe that Mori wouldn't have something on the subject of the super saiyan god. As Gohan looks between the research on his table and the sea of books surrounding the room, he musters up the strength to tackle the inevitable.
Each and every book is pulled out from its spot. They fall in slapdash piles, forming scruffy pyramids at the base of the bookcases. Above, dust scatters everywhere, and when Gohan's not coughing, he's grunting and sighing at the lack of results. He's scoured the bookcases before but not to this level. When they're empty, he lifts them, checking hidden panels and spaces to where Mori might have deviously hid information.
Hours pass and he finds nothing.
I know you left something, you bastard.
Lying dead centre in the middle of his room, Gohan has an excellent view of the accumulated dust under his bookshelves. Appearing like hills, the books themselves are organized into colonies of subjects, with absolutely none of them being of any use whatsoever.
"One step forward, two back…"
He sighs, thumping his head back.
Gohan had even pulled out all his drawers, including the ones in his desk; nothing. There's nothing of value.
He wonders if the cleaners might have touched anything. They're a brazen bunch; they have to be after working here for so long. But Gohan doubts even they would meddle with the goods of a god. Quell has always been strict about it. No, he relents, it wouldn't have been them. Gohan's just missing something. Perhaps if he just tried to think like Mori would, he'd be able to find something…
It must be fate when Gohan turns his attention right, because between the floor and the corner of a small set of drawers, a scrunched-up ball of paper can be spotted. He reaches for it immediately, daring not to get his hopes up right away. But he needn't limit himself.
His heart beats positively against his ribcage as he opens it up and reads.
There, in black and white, it says exactly what Gohan wants to see:
The Super Saiyan Principles: The Lost Art of Godhood
His hand slaps over his mouth. This is it.
In the centre of the paper, there is a drawing of a saiyan and he can't help but rake his eyes over it. The sight is familiar to him. It's triggering a sort of déjà vu feeling, making Gohan feel like he's come across this before –perhaps as Mori—and so he feels excited by the notion. This must be a good sign.
As he reads about the power and the technique of this godly form the paper is suggesting, he starts to feel giddier by the minute –all until a revelation hits him and makes him numb.
Zamasu was right... If I achieve this form then I'll become unstoppable. I'll easily become the strongest the universe, the Almighty and any god has ever seen.
The realisation shakes him.
It's what he'd been looking for, but not exactly what he'd wanted. This… this is scary.
Only upon spotting the picture of several other saiyans surrounding one does Gohan feel his heart start once more. It's on the other side of the paper that it's explained multiple saiyans are required for the transformation to be achieved.
His dad's face comes to mind first and then Goten's, followed by Vegeta's and Trunks'. They are faces not thought about for a long time, faces that make Gohan feel all the heavier.
He sits back down, clutching the paper.
This won't ever happen.
Not only does Gohan refuse to go back to Earth, but there aren't enough saiyans to complete the ritual. Apparently, they need five for the practice and one for the transformation. That means that they're shy of one, and who's to say that they can even use hybrid saiyans.
The paper burns quickly, turning to ash there in his hands.
This is not the path I'll take, he decides, still swallowing his disappointment. I'll try Quell one more time. I'll make him see sense… and if not… I'll…
He slumps.
Well, Gohan doesn't know exactly what he'll do.
The Tournament Grounds, Earth
Age 780
No… No… Not Goten.
Goku can barely move. His lungs are definitely pierced. Every breath is a wet one. Really, he could be moments away from death. But he can't give up, not when his son is looking at him like that, not when his other son remains lost.
He grunts, willing any part of him to move.
"Beerus!" he calls out from the dirt, "Your fight is with me!"
This doesn't stop the advancement. And to his horror, Goten isn't moving. The kid's frozen; shaking, eyes wide and fearful. The tears are still damp on his cheeks for crying out loud. He shouldn't be here. This isn't his place.
Argh! Why didn't he fly away earlier?
Just how many times did he tell him to go home?
It seems that Goten manages enough willpower to react, but it's not enough to escape. Beerus rains a hand down and Goku feels the vibration of the strike. The thrum of it shoots through Goten, the ground and back into Goku, filling him with manic dread.
"Goten!" he cries.
There's a shriek of pain when the teenager hits the opposing rubble. His face rises, marred by the red streaks sopping downwards. When he goes to wipe his eyes free of them, Beerus gates him from any chance whatsoever. He collects Goten just to throw him down once more.
"This is what you get for striking me outside of battle," he snipes, "I have no time for brats without manners!"
"He's just a kid!" Goku shouts, his throat tearing from the experience.
"A rude one! Consider this a lesson in fighting etiquette!"
Goku can't see behind him as Beerus strolls that way, but he can hear Goten's struggling. There might have been an attempt at defence because Goku had heard a brisk yell, the sort that comes with a transformation. However, even if Goten has powered up to Super Saiyan, there's little he'll be able to do against Beerus. The guy is just so, so strong.
Goten cries out once more.
I need to get up.
His fingers twinge.
C'mon, body. MOVE.
There's no chance of him reaching any transformation now. He's wrecked. Beerus has made sure of that. How –how- with all the training Goku's done can he be no match against him? Had Goku been arrogant? Was he wrong when thinking he could match a god?
There's a splutter from behind.
Goten!
Against all odds, he forces himself to shuffle upward. First, his head rises and then his shoulders. His chest follows, then his lower back. He's up.
Goku's sitting up.
The blood is really starting to slop free however.
There's only one chance at this, he considers, weak. With a hazy gaze, he looks over the horizon and then further than that. He looks beyond the skyline.
I hope this works.
His legs buckle the moment he's on them. Absently, he notices the last piece of his over shirt fall free as he stumbles forward, aching as he clambers over chaotic stone and steel. One foot forward, one back as he slips; it's hard work. The sweat intermingles with blood and he's a wet mess, barely coherent enough to see where he's walking.
Ahead, Beerus' tail flickers in agitation, swooping occasionally and giving Goku full view of an individual preoccupied with his opponent.
His knee fails him once again, however, and he contains a growl. It hurts. Everything hurts.
But he reaches them. Goten's still standing, thank the heavens. He's sporting a black eye and a bloodied lip as well as the head wound. It's nothing worse than what he's had in training so Goku thinks he'll be okay –only if he's able to intervene now.
With that in mind, he lumbers forward, stumbling gracelessly with the aim of capturing hold of the god. Beerus, as sharp as he is, turns and catches Goku in his vice grip.
"And now you attack me with my back turned?"
Gosh, I hope King Kai forgives me for this… again.
He raises a hand, separating his index and middle fingers free.
This should at least buy Earth a little time.
"Just what are you doing?"
He concentrates as his head throbs. There's a scouring of energies. Goku has to work hard to find it. Even though he's done it many times before, in this state, it requires focus.
And then, he finds it.
"Talk to me, mortal-"
With a blink, both Beerus and Goku uproot, disappearing on the spot just to reappear elsewhere. He prepares his apologies to King Kai as for bringing yet another person to his planet uninvited. Hopefully, this won't end up like the Cell situation all over again, where the visitor should feel like exploding and killing all present.
Please don't let this be another planet of his I get destroyed…
Goku needn't worry, however, because they'd never managed to leave Earth.
What?
Beerus pulls away, disgusted. "What did you do?"
"I…I…"
But Goku had been sure to locate King Kai. He'd felt his energy! They were supposed to teleport there! That's not what happened though, something that's very apparent looking at their current surroundings…
Trees, ranging high into the sky, and mountains, snow-kissed and even higher, surround them. The air is cooler here –less humid- than back at the tournament grounds, and there's a trickle of chilled summer rain; something that hadn't been present just moments ago. This is still Earth. In fact, Goku knows this area.
It's only a few miles short of the 439 Mountain Area.
"That's never happened before," Goku whispers. "What…"
"Wait." Beerus holds his clawed hands out. "That technique… Was that Instant Transmission?"
"It was supposed to be-"
"Just how, by the gods, did you come across this technique?!"
"Eh?"
"It's a sacred technique only allowed by the gods and kais –what are you doing using it? Answer m –hey, don't you dare collapse now!"
His knees have gone weak again. The grass at least is far more pillow-like than rubble and debris. It welcomes him down, embracing him as he splutters up metallic goo.
"Hey! We don't have time for this! Get up!" Goku feels a foot ply into his side. "Why aren't you dead? You shouldn't have that technique. All those who had it illegally were slayed –why are you still on this plane?"
From the floor, Goku winces. "Wh-What are you talking about?"
This seems to infuriate the god, but he's not mad at Goku apparently. His feline eyes grow and shrink, wild as his tail bats from side to side. "Oh, oh, that bastard! The bastard thinks he can step on my toes and destroy without my consent, and then dares not to do it correctly –he dares to spare one. Who the hell does he think he is?"
Goku hasn't a clue to what Beerus is rattling on about.
"Am… I not allowed to do this or something?"
Beerus cracks his knuckles menacingly, teeth poised and sharp. "Wait until he hears about this! I shall tell him that I had to clean up after him and he will be so furious –yes, yes."
"Look, I just learned this technique when I was out in space. These guys on Yardrat showed me how to do it. It took a while b-"
Beerus' tone drops. "Yardrat is gone."
"What?"
"It's dead. It was destroyed," he says simply, "Not that I had anything to do with it because if I had then I would have done a more thorough job of it with eradicating you too."
"I don't understand."
"I don't expect you to." He rubs under his chin, contemplating. "Now, I suppose I have even more incentive to be rid of you and this planet."
"Yardrat is gone?" Goku doesn't get it. Why? What happened? Those people were so kind and generous, and so wonderful when he'd needed their help. Who'd want to hurt them? "Why?"
"Like I said, Instant Transmission is a technique of the gods and not something for you, a mortal, to play with. They were teaching and using this technique freely, and whilst it is of no harm to those who are truly weak, it is dangerous for those with reach –perhaps dangerous… someone like you."
The memory of Cell destroying King Kai's planet burns hot and fast.
But it's not good enough. "So you killed them?!"
"Were you not listening, idiot? No, I did not! I should have been the one to do it… but, oh well. I'll right that wrong immediately. I think it's time to end this. And for the record, you weren't able to transport me because you miscalculated the amount of energy required to perform godly logistics, not that you have much energy left to being with.
Speaking of which…Stay still now and it shan't burn nearly as much as it could."
"What?"
"Let's just get this over and done with, shall we?"
A hand rises up and a spiral of blue begins to churn.
Goku stares death in the face, newly furious but unable to do anything about it.
This…This can't be it. I don't have my answers!
"Goodbye, I suppose," Beerus says, flippantly waving his spare hand. "I wish I could say that it has been interestin-"
A voice cries out. "Lord Beerus! Wait –Wait!"
There's a break of silence until finally the god clicks his tongue, and all the breath in Goku's lungs is released when the hand droops lower. To his rescue comes the Supreme Kai, along with Kibito and another individual Goku's never seen before. Lord Beerus, however, recognizes this person instantly.
"And just where the hell have you been, Whis?" he demands. His eyes flitter lower. "And just what on this mortal plane are you carrying?"
This Whis character doesn't look frazzled whatsoever. He's as cool as his blue skin tone, only harbouring mild surprise upon finding them in this situation.
"Just what are you doing, Lord Beerus? I did not think we were on schedule for a massacre today? How you can be such a busy-body. I am not surprised, though I do say… Oh, and this? This is ice-cream; it's truly very sweet. I think you might actually enjoy it! Apparently this one is something called chocolate mint and this one is vanilla."
His arms fold together into a knot. "I knew you were scouting for food! And you tell me that I am glutinous!"
Whis hums, looking down over Goku before taking a lick at the chocolate mint. "So this is Goku, I take it? He is not quite the warrior I expected him to be."
"I said that."
"But we must remember, Lord Beerus, all that is gold does not glitter."
"No, but he bleeds… a lot."
"I say, you are quite right."
"Please," Shin finally intervenes, "Let my assistant heal him. We need to talk about Ear-"
"Why?" Beerus gives Goku a prod with his foot for good measure. "I will kill him momentarily anyway."
"Whis," Shin appeals once more.
"Perhaps we should listen to him," Whis is quick to offer, "The Supreme Kai has always proven to be a valiant ally to the gods as well as his fellow kais. Perhaps he should pay that kindness backwards."
Beerus looks like he'd rather do anything but. "Are you asking me to be political again, Whis? I am no good at it. You know that I am not!"
Shin lowers his head. "Please, Lord Beerus. It would be a great kindness."
If anything, this seems to put him off. "Simpering kais and their mortal friends have never swayed me before. Since coming to here, I have faced nothing but disrespect and disappointment!"
"You have not tried ice-cream," Whis points out. "It's exquisite."
"There are other wonderful foods here too!" The Supreme Kai continues.
"But no fighters! This Goku is really the best this planet has to offer? You told me that I would find an able-bodied saiyan warrior, but here I find a rude little ingrate and his equally rude offspring."
Whis re-examines Goku once more. "Oh, a saiyan! How lovely. I have not set my eyes upon once since the destruction of Planet Vegeta. Such bad business, that."
"Saiyans are overrated," Beerus says snottily, "Look, this one is hardly breathing now."
It's true. Goku's feeling fainter by the second.
"I think you should let them heal him. They do come back stronger after a near-death experience, I have you know."
"Tsk. Like I didn't know that. Besides, this one won't regain strength. He's already past the capacity."
"Please," Shin tries again.
"Oh fine, have at it," Beerus says, dismissively waving a hand much like a petulant teenager. His attention moves straight back over to his colleague and they continue conversing as though they are without an audience.
"Hold tight, Goku," Kibito says as he kneels beside him.
He looks tired, Goku thinks as the heat washes over him. The guy must have been healing people left, right and centre back at the tournament. The warmth of his wounds coming together, of the blood replenishing and of his insides being fixed, returns energy Goku had almost forgotten about.
"Have you ever met a saiyan that has surprised you?" challenges Beerus, "And not in the bad ways like these disrespectful mortals dared to today. Honestly, Whis, you had to have seen it. They have not an ounce of dignity between them –catching me off-guard like they did."
"There is more than one fighting style, my lord," Whis attempts wisely. "We must remember mortal cultures are varied."
"Varied? More like savage –unsurprising considering their species and their history. Now, are you going to share that is-scream or what?"
When Goku goes to open his mouth, Shin physically slaps a hand over it. His head shakes violently, mentally scolding Goku for wanting to defend himself.
Whis passes along the vanilla. "Oh, such a bad attitude to have about the saiyans, don't you think? Their history is so long and divine and yet you choose to forget that."
Divine?
"The saiyans; divine? Do not make me laugh, Whis, the saiy—Oh, oh, this is exquisite. We must take some of this is-scream food home."
The mint chocolate is waved. "The saiyans reined as gods too, don't you remember?" Another lick is taken. "Oh, or perhaps it was before your time. I do find myself becoming more forgetful these days…"
He can't take it anymore –he must say his piece. Goku has to lick Shin's hand to be freed. Repulsed, the kai pulls away; face soured and, worse for him, unable to catch Goku once more.
"What do you mean divine?" he asks, ignoring Shin's furious expression. "And they were gods?"
"With a line as old as the saiyan people, of course some of them stem from the gods," Whis says as though discussing brunch, "They're one of the reasons the Almighty became involved and had all non-mortals and those of divinity sterilized."
There's an obnoxious biting of the ice-cream's cone. "I, for one, am pleased they are no longer with us for the most part. What grotesque specimens."
Goku can't help but ask. "So with all that god stuff, could a saiyan grow to be as strong as you?"
Beerus recoils. "No."
"Yes," says Whis.
There's a beat of silence.
And the god is set off once more. "What? Don't be so absurd, Whis! The saiyans are hardly the cream of the crop of mortals; they don't even rank that highly against other species within the same quadrant!"
"Oh, Lord Beerus, do not concern yourself with the numbers of it. It is more to do with technique and range of the species themselves. There is only so strong mortals can become without divine intervention, after all."
"Technique?" Goku's eyes sting from growing so wide. "What technique?"
"A transformation, really."
"What is it?"
Whis finishes his ice-cream in one swoop, smiling behind the cone. "Why, it's to become a Super Saiyan God."
The Estate, The Realm of the Almighty
Age 780
Gohan stands outside Quell's door, clutching his peace offering, willing himself the strength to go in and confront him one last time. This is it. Gohan refuses to take no for an answer on this.
He starts with a knock. Another knock follows, and then another.
Finally, Gohan hears a remarkably moody "Come in then!" from the other side before pushing at the wood. Quell's room is, as usual, lit by a small army of candles. Plants dangle from every direction, giving the impression of a dense jungle, one ready to swarm and entangle Gohan up at any wrong step. As much as Gohan has lost his fear of Quell, a tired post-trip Quell is a different story. The guy is always avoided for the first day upon his return.
And Gohan did just that, but he's beginning to feel that luck isn't on his side tonight.
"I've brought wine," Gohan announces upon reaching his brother's desk. Quell looks up from his papers, and then to the bottle, before beckoning him closer.
The papers cluttering Quell's desk are probably best described as systematized chaos. Sheets upon sheets are stacked up in messy piles, all in varying colours, some big and others small. All piles, however, are completed from bottom to top in Quell's impossibly neat scrawl.
"Been busy?" Gohan asks as he fetches two glasses from the cabinet.
"Yes, clearly." Ah, he's definitely grumpy.
"I'm assuming you won't tell me."
"And when do you ever tell me what you're researching?"
Gohan sighs. "Fair, I guess. Here." He passes along a generous serving of plum wine.
Quell takes a long sip instantly. He shuts his eyes and Gohan gives him the moment to savour the taste. Eventually, one eye opens, "So, what do you want?"
Gohan wrings his fingers along his own glass, saying nothing.
"Out with it. You've brought me my favourite wine and now you're sat at my desk with a face like a little boy. What do you want, Mori?"
Gohan sips his wine. "I'm here to visit with you."
With a quirk of the lips, Quell snorts and stacks his papers together before taking another drink. "Like I'd believe that. Are you here to request leave to go on some mystery adventure?"
"We both know I wouldn't ask."
Quell considers him momentarily, and then reaches out for the bottle of wine. He tops up his own glass. "You're getting cheeky."
Gohan refuses to wilt under the stare. Instead, he shrugs and takes another nip at his own drink.
"Then what do you want?"
"Well, it just so happens that I don't want anything," Gohan says lightly, testing his own nerve. "I'm actually here to give you a heads up."
Quell's tone is flat. "On what?"
He strokes the stem of his glass with a finger delicately, not really wanting to say it. The smooth glass feels fine under his touch.
"What are you going to do, Mori?"
Gohan sighs, knowing how this is going to go. "Let's not argue. I wanna' keep it calm."
"I never argue. I explain."
Gohan raises his gaze to his brother.
"I'm hoping to become more involved in politics."
Quell just looks confused, and shakes his head. "Right? And what of it?"
With a sigh, Gohan takes a mouthful of red and just gets to it. "I want your support to join the meetings. I want your support to oppose the warring on Helia, and finally, I want your support in the destruction of energy-usage amongst mortals."
"What?"
"I said that I want your su-"
"Yes, I'm well of hearing. I'm just trying to process your stupidity. Give me a moment."
Fire lights in his chest almost immediately. "You think I'm joking? I'm not, Quell! I'm not playing! This is the only way I think we can really help the victims and future victims-"
"Oh, spare me your dramatics."
"Don't patronize me," Gohan bites out, "I am here to talk about this, not to be lectured."
"Are you still brain damaged?" Quell asks, "Truly, I think this is the most foolish thing you have said thus far."
"And were our predecessors foolish when they rid the universe of the relics? How about before them when their predecessors introduced Hell, or before that when-"
"Don't quote our history at me, Mori. I know it well."
"Then why are you so against me making a stand when it's our very right to? The Almighty wants us to bring revelation. It's in our nature!"
"You are not a messiah. This is a phase and you will outgrow it. Every god has their day when the mortals sway them with their sweet words and cries for mercy." Quell drinks again, smacking his lips and angering Gohan by doing do. "Revelation is the old ways and even if the Almighty's history might lead us that way, we are gods. We have the divine right to choose different paths -different plights."
"What are you even saying? You've always followed the old ways!"
"At the expense of the collective, I have not."
"Then you just care about self-preservation," Gohan spits. "You're being a… a coward!"
The glass in Quell's hand hits the table with a thud. "You take it too far, Mori!"
"You bubble-wrap me and Rixas and give us little room to manoeuvre."
"Are we really going to do this at such an hour, Mori?" Quell counters with equal venom, pinching at his temples. "I am not long since back and you wish to throw this at me now?"
"Then when? You're never interested in helping the mortals!"
"Because you're acting obtuse!" Quell snarls, eyes pressed, "You want to take their ki? And then what? Do you think they will be sending one another gift baskets and apology notes once they are without manna? They do not need ki to act deviously, you fool. Evil does not have an energy source! Evil will prevail!"
"Ridding ki is not to rid evil, but to stop its reach from stretching so far!" Gohan explains just as heatedly. "You take their ki and they cannot so easily murder."
"Guns, ships, bombs… need I go on?"
"Which don't nearly kill as many mortals as ki; something you would know should you have read my research!"
"Do you know your problem, Mori? You're drunk on your own chivalry. You've saved one too many damsels and have started having reckless and immature ideas about utopias that cannot exist."
"They cannot exist because people like you won't let it! Any time I make any fair point; you discount it and treat me like a child. You do now… and you know what? You did back then too!"
"Back before your failed reincarnation? That was hardly a mature decision. Tch! You were nearly lost. Had Jivel and that woman not fixed you then you would still be that snivelling saiyan boy."
Gohan swallows his anger, and then another mouthful of wine because he doesn't know what might come out otherwise. He takes a few seconds to compose himself. "Brother, I'm still that saiyan boy. It was part of my plan -I knew exactly what I was doing."
"Was it your plan to lose all your memories?" Quell rhetorically asks, his tone full of spite. "Or was it your plan to not be able to utilize your powers? Or remember your birth right? Or perhaps, your plan was just to drive me crazy with the entire lot of it."
"I'm not saying it went smoothly," Gohan defends. "But it came around to be back on track nonetheless. Look, this isn't me asking permission. I'm telling you my plans on this out of respect. I just wanted-"
Quell snaps, "Oh, because you respected me well enough to tell me the first time?"
"Why? Do you care?"
His brother's gaze is dark, but Gohan refuses to look away.
"There are two things I care about, Mori" Quell finally says evenly. "You know what they are."
Who they are. The stubborn asshole just doesn't want to say it.
"That's pretty selfish of a god," Gohan spits childishly. He knows he's just being facetious but he can't control his tongue. He blames the wine.
"Well, Mori… to be honest, I don't really give a fuck."
Quell takes a more measured sip of his drink.
Frustrated, Gohan brushes a hand through his hair. "Look, Quell, you know I'm just going to do it whether you give me permission or not."
His brother's lips thin into a sneer. "By all means then, ignore orders. Do what you want as usual."
"Brother…"
"It's 'Brother' now? For how long for?" A flow of hair rains down as he pivots his head. "You're tinkering around with dark forces, Mori. You have no right to be playing with life like this."
"You're scolding me for playing god? That's our very entitlement-"
"Not like this!"
"Then like what? What are your rules then, Quell? Because that's what this is really all about."
"How dare you!" Quell roars. He thumps his desk and both glasses of wine shudder. "This is my birth right –to keep you three –two- in line-"
"-to control us!"
"You, Mori! To control you! Rixas doesn't need me to tell him not to do anything so –so reckless and selfish-"
"I'm an adult, Quell!"
"Then act like it!"
At that time, Quell's door bursts open and Rixas appears, dishevelled. He's in his sleepwear, bleary-eyed and wearing his hair three times messier than usual. His voice comes out as a tired croak.
"You're shaking the foundations, Quell. What the hell is goin' on in here?"
Quell breathes a torrent of air through his nostrils, looking between him and Gohan. Gohan holds the glare fiercely, refusing to buckle. He hadn't even noticed the earth shaking.
Rixas approaches slowly and Gohan feels the weak pull of fabric from his arm. "C'mon, let's go."
"This is happening, Quell," Gohan tells him, holding his stance. "You're either with me or against me, but I will stand up for this. I believe in it."
"You believe in a fairy tale," he growls, "And I refuse to let that fairy tale lead us to ruin."
When Quell stands, Rixas actually takes a step back and Gohan can feel the discomfort radiate from him. Gohan, on the other hand, goes to move forward.
"Mori, stop it," Rixas says lowly. "Knock it off."
"You see here," Quell continues, "This. Us. Us three. This is your focus."
"This goes beyond us. We can really help. We can be the difference together."
"When you are the difference, you become a martyr. Do you know how they are made, little brother, my sweetest little brother?" He pulls at Gohan's robe, snatching him until they're nose to nose. "They die."
In his grasp, Gohan's chin lifts. "Then I'll die. I don't care."
The gold in Quell's eyes flashes and there's a rip of thunder. The ground shakes and a wave of energy electrifies the space. Neither moves. Neither speaks.
Rixas finally steps forward, raising a hand and placing it over Quell's, the one keeping Gohan firmly trapped. "He doesn't mean that, Quell. He doesn't. He's just being facetious."
"I do mean it."
Rixas hisses, "You don't." And then he addresses them together, attempting civility. "C'mon. This is silly. We're in this as a team. We're brothers. Whatever issue this is, we can work it out… Quell, let go… Quell…"
Finally, albeit gradually, Gohan is free, just in time for Quell to jab a finger into his chest.
"You think this is about them, Mori?" Quell seethes, "It's not. Whatever retched little hole within you has made itself known, whatever void you're trying to fill, know that this is entirely about you. This is what you want to sacrifice this collective –your life- for; your own immature and selfish principles."
Rixas groans. "Quell!"
"Just because you can't see beyond yourself, it doesn't mean we have to follow your self-serving standards!"
"Mori!"
"You need to grow up. I thought we had turned a corner but you are still the pathetic child that woke up in a hospital bed some years ago –and I want nothing to do with him!" A hand is batted in his face. "Be gone. Take a trip –a long one- and return to me when you are yourself once more."
"Perhaps I shall," he spits, livid, "And perhaps I won't come back. You'll have another Famis on your hands and then you can, as usual, cry into your wine and do nothing at all about it!"
Rixas grabs Gohan before Quell can. He drags him back, clutching with such a tight grip that bruises should appear by morning. But Gohan doesn't care. He's panting, furious. Quell is very much the same. Both stand there; gold eyes thin, sharp and full of hate. Gohan has to do everything in his might not to reach out and punch the guy.
"Stop it," Rixas whispers, "You both need to cool off."
Gohan pulls free of Rixas, leans over and finishes his wine. "You know, maybe if you're lucky I'll return to you from my trip without my memories again, and then I'll be much easier for you to control." He slams the glass down beside Quell's "Lord knows how you didn't enjoy it more the first time around."
"Get out."
Gladly, Gohan thinks, as he makes for the door. Through the brain fog, he absently hears glass shatter as Rixas manages him through the door. It closes behind them, shaking the walls. A painting down the corridor falls on its face.
Outside 439 Mountain Area, Earth
Age 780
Is this really going to work?
Goku looks from Goten to Vegeta to Trunks, who holds the tiny, squishy body of his sister. They're standing in a circle, facing one another, all most likely thinking the same thing -all of course except for Bulla. She stares and points at the snowy mountain range behind. Her giggles are unnerving in such a serious situation but none move to hush her.
Against neighbouring woods and watching the cluster of sayains, Beerus stands by in anticipation. Thin eyes roam over each of them as if calculating which one might be of any merit should they succeed. Meanwhile, Whis is beside him with a more thoughtful expression. This seems to be more of an experiment to him than anything.
Goku swallows the dry lump wedged in his throat.
Man, the Supreme Kai had been right. These people are something else…
"We're fucked, aren't we?" Trunks whispers, bouncing his sister up into a more comfortable position. "We're going to be killed by a house cat."
Vegeta looks about ready to throttle him.
"We've gotta' try," Goten whispers back. He's been healed like the others but Goku doesn't like the red stains left cascading down his face. The drizzle of rain at least is starting to clean them away.
Goku tries to ignore them, addressing huddle. "Shin says we should try to keep him happy for the time being. Beerus just wants a really strong guy to go against, I think, so let's jump through his hoops for now."
"Tch, he's clearly after your blood, Kakarot."
"I… know. I hope we can keep that focus on me."
"He's really strong," Goten adds, pained. "He's stronger than you. What can y-"
"Understatement of the year," Trunks scoffs, "He beat all you guys without even breaking a sweat. If this guy wants us dead then that's just that. Once again, all this stupid superhero crap is ruining everything."
"I didn't see you try," Vegeta hisses.
"I was too busy playing nurse to you!"
"And you call yourself a saiyan…"
"I don't –that's all you, old man. And look at where all this saiyan nonsense has-"
Really, this isn't the time for this. "Guys, stop it."
"These boys are an embarrassment to our people." Vegeta clicks his tongue. "Neither trained enough. They're lazy and without any drive whatsoever. I'm starting to think it is a half-breed issue since your oldest was also lazy."
"Vegeta…" They're not doing this again, not now!
A drawn out whistle pierces out, coming from Lord Beerus. They all flinch. "Hello, saiyans? I did not request a mother's meeting," he hollers over to them. "I am giving you ample time to prepare for the ritual so you best not waste it, not unless you want this planet swiftly destroyed. I do not like my time wasted!"
Whis hums, nodding. "It's true. Dallying is just another way to fritter the day away. Let's do our best to concentrate now, shall we?"
"But I don't even know what to do," Trunks tells the group in an urgent whisper.
Goten shrugs, equally frantic.
On the other side of the huddle, the Supreme Kai stands alongside Kibito and Piccolo. Their expressions all ring of the deliberating gravity of the situation. Piccolo, in particular, looks especially grave, paling by the second. He nods, gesturing for Goku to return his attention to the group.
But just like the boys, Goku doesn't have a clue what to do. Apparently, they need five righteous saiyans (whatever that means) to input their energy, themselves, into one.
Upon Whis suggesting it earlier, Beerus had jumped at the opportunity to see it. He'd then ordered all the saiyans to be collected to perform some archaic ritual that sounds entirely made up. Shin had supported Beerus, however, giving Goku a frosty when he went to question the likelihood of it working.
"If it doesn't, then I will simply destroy the planet and be on my way," the god had replied so very simply.
It's not that Goku doesn't want to see it. In fact, he's excited about the prospect –but what will happen if it doesn't work? And whilst Shin had been eager to encourage all this along, Goku recognizes that it's just to prolong Beerus' hasty desire to end the Earth and its people.
Honestly, Goku isn't one for unearned power. This feels a bit like cheating to him, but it does feel like the next step he's long been searching for –training for- and so he'll do it… not that they have much of a choice. It's this or death, apparently.
On that sour note, Goku scratches his head. "Let's get this, uh, party started, I guess."
"If this actually works then I should be the one to inherit this power," Vegeta tells him gruffly, "It is in my blood, after all."
"Sorry, Vegeta, I think Beerus wants me to achieve it first."
Vegeta clicks his tongue. "Then I'm next. You better not duck out on it, I swear-"
"It's not going to work," Trunks interrupts, turning to give his little sister a raspberry on her cheek. "Is it, Bulla? No, no, it's not, is it?"
Bulla giggles at their likely damnation.
"Okay, guys." Goku claps, staring out at empty faces. "Let's do this. Maybe we should…" His hands flex out, fingers spreading.
Vegeta recoils. "I am not holding your filthy mitt!"
In the distance, Piccolo's voice booms over. "For God's sake, Vegeta, grab his hand! This is life or death, not a teenager's weekend date!"
Goku's hand is snatched up into a vice grip. It's Vegeta's way of delivering a masculine grasp apparently. Goten takes Goku's other hand, and in his left, he holds Trunks'.
"Time to hold hands now, Bulla," Trunks coos. "Isn't this fun?"
She's absolutely delighted, especially when Vegeta takes her by her tiny fingers.
"I know it's been a while, boys," Goku starts, "But you've gotta' dig deep. I think our best bet is to pull out as much energy as we can-"
"Slowly," Vegeta snaps, "Don't transform off the bat. You need to channel the energy into the centre of this circle."
"Easy for you to say."
"What was that, boy?"
"I said it sounds hard," Trunks hisses, "And how do we send it through to Goku, anyway? You have just as much an idea on how to do it as I do."
"Don't get smart with me. Just do as you're told."
"This is hard," Goten complains, "I'm struggling to find my inner most… ugh…"
Goku squeezes his son's hand. "You just gotta' relax a bit more."
To showcase this, Goku propels his own energy forward. His face muscles relax and his breathing evens out. The idea that death is mere moments behind them, creeping, waiting, dissolves away and he's left with just himself and these four other energies.
"Focus on your breathing," he next advises, sending another pulse of energy forward.
It takes time but Goten manages to mirror him. Goku feels the familiarity of soft warmth connect from his right. Vegeta's energy runs hotter but it's still soothing. Trunks finally manages to connect, bringing the flavour of his and his sister's energy together.
"That's it," Goku praises.
The energy intertwines, blending and creating something new. It's not about just throwing ki in and hoping for the best. It's about putting your own identity in there. Goku feels it. He slowly understands it. This basic action… it's something so much more.
"I feel it," Goten tells the group. Trunks hums in agreement.
Goku smiles. "Keep going."
They do. Golden light orbits their collective, simmering humbly as one by one, each slowly ascend into the super saiyan state naturally. The ki continues to bleed out of them with time stretching on. The balance starts to wobble somewhat and Goku's concerned that they may be starting to become out of key with one another.
Eventually, Vegeta seizes his hand back. "This isn't working. Something's off."
"It feels close," Goten says, "Maybe if we try again-"
"No," Whis announces, approaching closer. "I do think Vegeta is right. I feel like we might be missing something here. Whilst the ritual felt like it was starting to come into form, its glue-like bonding semblance seems to be absent."
Shin rushes forward. "What does that mean?"
Yes, what does that mean?
"Your energy was not going anywhere. You were sending it out to come together and disappear much like smoke in the wind."
"Do we need to put it into an object or something?" Trunks asks, "Like a weapon?"
"Weapons don't store living energy," Vegeta dismisses.
Whis smiles. "They do but that's a different topic for a different time. No, I think this type of personable energy needs to be put into another living being."
Goku pulls a face. They don't have anyone else they can bring into this. The ritual had asked for five and that's how many are here!
"Are you saying we need another saiyan?" barks Vegeta, "You know that's asking for the impossible. Most here are half-blooded -we don't have any other saiyans at our disposal!"
Trunks is equally frustrated. "You said that we needed five!"
Whis hums. "Now that I think about it, the book I once read on the matter might have mentioned you need a sixth. It's been so long since I last read it. It's so often checked out at the Geo library, you know."
"But we don't have six," Goku cries out, "This is it. This is all of us."
Beerus sighs like he's just experienced the most inconvenient thing in the word. "What a waste of my time this is turning out to be… You saiyans are a rambunctious lot. Are you positive that you haven't a bastard knocking around?"
A what?
"We're sure," Vegeta snaps, "I have two and Kakarot has… one."
Whis gasps. "How disappointing! I am quite sorry that it's turning out this way, Lord Beerus. Really, you must be so disappointed."
"I am. Shall we destroy this planet and be on our way then?"
"I suppose if you feel like we truly must…"
"Please," Shin tries, "There has to be another way-"
"At least I can rub it into that bastard's face that I was the one to finish his slapdash handiwork."
The blue man sighs. "Oh, your rivalry with Lord Quell is rather tiring to say the least. I wish you would both simply get on."
Beerus guffaws but has little chance to say anything else because Vegeta is spitting.
"What a joke!" he snaps, "What a farce this has all come to be! Six saiyans –six. Do you know how close we are to that? SIX! Yet again, Kakarot, your selfish idiot of a son has ruined things for all of us!
That's too far! Goku's energy flares high, instinctive.
Even Piccolo reacts. Kibito has to hold him from charging in. Instead, he settles for; "Vegeta, knock it off!"
"Be quiet, namek, that coward has doomed us all. If he'd still been here then we'd have been in for a chance. Now, we're all going to die because he couldn't hack it."
"Shut up!" Goku growls, "How many times do I have to say that he didn't do it?!"
"Well, when we all end up dead then you can go look for him and ask him, can't you?" Vegeta seethes, "Be prepared to be disappointed!"
When Bulla starts to cry, Trunks finally becomes involved. "Dad, stop being an asshole. Even if it's true, we don't say it."
"Trunks!" Goten hisses, earning a pointed shrug.
Whis presses a hand to his mouth. "Oh, so dramatic. I would love to know the story."
"Urghh, you and your soap operas. Must we really encourage this?" Beerus groans and his ears begin to flop. "I just want to get on with my day… I'm becoming weary."
"Maybe we can help them," he points out with a raised finger, "They're talking about a sixth. So perhaps you will have your fight, after all!"
"Well, he's dead," Vegeta has the gall to spit out.
"I don't understand the problem," Beerus says, "So what if this sixth is dead? Hmm… Is this just a way for you to weasel out of the ritual?"
"No, no. The dead cannot simply come and go as they please, Lord Beerus, you know that."
"Of course, I do. But a dead soul isn't exactly difficult to bring back. Didn't they say they had dragon balls?" The god cocks his head and appraises the group. "Did you not happen to like this sixth?"
Goku wants to scream otherwise but Shin once again silences him, raising a hand. "It's not that, Lord Beerus. This is the soul I once brought up to you. Do you remember? It had become lost and was unable to be retrieved through the power of the dragon balls or magic. Even King Yemma has nothing on his records about it."
The tails bats from left to right as he contemplates. "I do remember something of it… But it hadn't seemed important to me at the time. What is one lost mortal soul anyway?"
Goku wants to send the jerk into the sun.
"That's the sixth," Piccolo says by Goku's back, his hand firmly planted there. "He was Goku's oldest son… He died six years ago."
"So upsetting," Whis empathises. "I imagine you've had such an awful time with it, haven't you? Isn't that sad, Lord Beerus?"
There's a shrug.
"He is most definitely floating about somewhere," he continues to console, albeit badly. "Souls do not just up and disappear."
"He killed himself," Vegeta feels the need to add.
"Oh, and the heartbreak continues. I'm sure he'd be easy enough to find with the right people looking."
In an instant, Goku's heart begins to race. His head rises and all the hate drains from him. There's no anger, just a dizzying lightness –a dare to hope. "Do you think you could find him, Whis?"
Beerus clicks his tongue. "Of course he can otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation, would we? Honestly."
Piccolo's hand slips from Goku's back. The guy seems to nearly fall down on the spot. "You're kidding?" he manages, weak. "Are you sure?"
Just as Whis claps his hands, enthralled by the prospect, Beerus' eyes roll. "I wouldn't want Lord Beerus to be left disappointed, and if I'm being honest, I would love to see the ritual myself! Naturally, it is supposed to be quite the sight to behold."
"If it's easier," Beerus starts, "You could just revive a random saiyan. I'm not fussy."
"N-No!" Goku exclaims. "No! It has to be him! It has to be Gohan!"
"Get out of my face, mortal!"
He ignores him, turning to Whis with only so much self-restraint. "Really? You can do it? Do you think you can revive Gohan?"
"Hmm… I'm quite sure I'd be able to find him if I had a quick peruse. He is your son, you say?"
"Yes!"
Soft eyes slowly close. "Let me have a look now…"
Goku wants to jump and shout and be sick all at once. There's a gleeful grin threatening to take form. These people are gods. If anyone could bring back Gohan, it's them. Turning, he catches Goten's lack of enthusiasm. If at all, he looks a little bit sickly. Perhaps he doesn't understand what could happen here.
"Don't get your hopes up, Kakarot," comes the voice of negativity. "Nothing's worked so far."
Bulla's soft whimpers coincide.
"Goku, you must calm down," Shin hushes, "Vegeta is quite right, you cannot expect to lumber Whis with this much pressure. He may be an angel but there is no guarantee you will get the answer you so wish for."
Beerus scoffs. "If Whis cannot do it then it's simply not worth doing."
"Gohan is gone," Vegeta presses, "Just let him go, for God's sake."
"Remember what I said about my theories –about his soul being… recycled," the kai adds.
Goten's voice sounds distant. "Recycled?"
"It hasn't been recycled," Goku snaps, "Don't say that!"
"Goku, you must be open to the idea of it."
"It isn't true!"
"And how can we know for sure?"
His chest becomes weighted; it's pulled down with the drag of anxiety, of fear –of the horror that it could be true. But Goku refuses to submit to it. He'll hold firm. "Gohan is out there. We'll find him and bring him home."
"You're in denial," Vegeta insists, "Tell him, namek." Piccolo says nothing, earning a click of the tongue. "After this, after we've been slain on our own planet, will you be happy then, Kakarot? Will you be happy when we're in Otherworld and you can look yourself to no avail? Will you finally admit your wrongdoings-"
There's a click of the fingers.
Slowly, the circle turns towards the angel.
"Would you look at that?" He's smiling. "I've found him."
What?
Had Goku heard that right?
"You've found him?" Piccolo asks, feeble. "Gohan? You've found Gohan Son?"
"Oh yes, that's his name." Whis rubs his chin. "I wasn't sure at first. He was very difficult to find. Half-saiyan, correct?"
Yes, yes! Goku pushes past Beerus and grasps onto the angel, shaking him. "That's him! You've actually got him!"
Although shaken, Shin manages to berate him again. "Let go, Goku!"
"Very enthusiastic, you saiyans, aren't you? Do you see this, Lord Beerus? I think he's positively jubilant with my work!"
"Just hurry up and summon the dead child. I want to see this Super Saiyan God, and I want to fight it! Should it give me an interesting time then I shall spare this planet. That was my deal –not to sit here and spectate melodrama."
"That is fair. Okay. I shall do my best. Let me see here…"
The Estate, The Realm of the Almighty
Age 780
"What the hell was that all about?" Rixas whispers furiously. "Are you crazy? You know better than to go against-"
But Gohan can't contain himself. The room is closing in. His anger is still brewing. "Get off of me!"
"Don't be rash!"
A sudden wave of nausea strikes and it has him reach for the nearby wall. This stress is going to kill him, Gohan's sure. The dizziness worsens. Nausea is making the room spin. "I… I've got to go."
"What? Mori, talk to me! Let me help you-"
"Let go! I swear to God, Rixas, let go or I… I-"
He does, nodding, and Gohan is released just like that. "It's cool, okay? It's all cool." Rixas showcases his hands slowly. "Okay… Alright. Just… Come and talk to me after, all right?"
Gohan nods numbly, still feeling shaky. There's no time wasted in putting distance between them, however. He runs down the corridor, brisk, needing air. If he were in his right mind, he'd feel guilty about having to put Rixas through that. He knows that he's just trying to help. Rixas always tries to help, unlike that bastard.
Why does Gohan bother? Why? Quell will never change! He'll never see him as the adult he is –as the individual he is; Gohan has his own beliefs, for crying out loud! He wants to help people! Why doesn't Quell?
Gohan doesn't understand!
The feeling of being lightheaded suddenly seems to worsen.
Is this from Quell? Did the guy do something?
No… no, it feels… it feels like he's being pulled.
What the hell is that?
"Give him s… space! Whi.. ne… to con…te!"
"Da.. What's…. ing?"
"….Power!"
Gohan hears voices. They're familiar. They're using a language he hasn't used in a long while. Just… what is that? Who?
"Lord …! Is he… ay?"
Oh God, his head.
"Why .. it takin.. … ng?"
The sensation grows into something overwhelming and Gohan drops to his knees. He wants to be sick. His chest constricts and his hand rises to still the palpitations.
"Urghhh!"
Shit…
He looks down the blurred corridor to see nothing –to see no-one.
Rixas… Where are you?
And then he sees black.
Outside 439 Mountain Area, Earth
Age 780
The look of strain upon Whis' face does not suit him. It's foreign. The crease between his brows tightens, burning deeper as he appears to facing some sort of difficulty none of them can see. He appears to twitch, flexing as an invisible force of ki shoots out beneath him. Several other cracks follow, forming zigzags along the ground.
Grass splays in the excitement, pulling into the air and mixing in with fine drops of rain. Trunks has to cover Bulla's head when it all starts to fall back down; not that she's unhappy. She giggles, clapping hands together when another gust of air strikes them.
"This is unusual," Beerus comments, "That soul must have journeyed far from where it was supposed to be."
Goku can only take so much of this. The anticipation is killing him.
And it's not only him. The others seem unable to comprehend what might happen –that this person might, no, will, bring Gohan back home to them.
"You've got this, Whis!"
The ground shakes, crumbling right under their toes. All take to the air except for Whis, who stands in the centre of the chaos; still wearing an expression of great concentration as the Earth falls at his feet.
And then, there's an almighty crack. Rain around them pauses, halting in its space as a current of rippling energy courses from bellow. In the dry pause, there's a flash so bright that Goku's eyes sting ripe. They burn but he's unable to blink –unable to look away.
And then...
Then the rain falls once more.
It patters down, innocent, kissing the ground, kissing the dirt. It even reaches down into the depth of the newly formed crater, falling and hitting the uprooted trees and mounds of filth.
But most importantly, it drums down on something with no business being in a depleted pit.
?
Age 780
There's a gasp.
And then there's another.
It's him. He's the one gasping. There's a final one, one that rattles his chest and has him rolling over and sputtering into thick clumps of dewy mud. He hacks ups, wondering why the air feels so damp –so humid- as rain pours down from out of nowhere. Hadn't he just been inside? Just where the hell is this place? Did Quell send him here? What has he done?
There's another round of coughing.
It all feels wrong.
Even he feels wrong. His body is tight, his ki restrained. It's like he's being pulled into the most suffocating vice-grip, somehow being forcibly contorted to fit in something two sizes two small.
When there's another cough, his hand rings his neck.
God, it's so difficult to breathe…
Above, there's shouting but it sounds so distant. It could be whispering to him. What are they saying?
He turns to face them but his vision is blurry, blearing against the white shine of skylight. And when he raises a hand to shield it away, warm fingers ensnare his.
A silhouette appears, mutating against the surroundings, dark but growing lighter by the second. And soon enough, Gohan sees all. His heart stops.
Croaking, his voice hardly works.
"…Dad?"
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
We're here. Finally. Like, finally.
Hot hell, damn Batman. This was a long one (Nearly 19K! Wtf). I've been slaving over it for days. Thank god for Kags and her magic because it was pretty unreadable before. Thanks for being my beta as usual, girl. You got me. She also didn't let me split this chapter so I'm sure you can be thankful for that -I am less thankful! I could have used it against you for reviews ;) Haha, I kid. Saying that, this thing is easily the biggest chapter I've thrown out so far so please drop me your thoughts! I want to know what ya thinking just because this has been the plan from the start. In fact, I've had some of Chapter 19 and Chapter 20 written up since before I posted the completed ready-to-read Chapter 1 (Not that I will be posting the old writing. It's wank).
Allllllso, Gohan finding that note about SSJ god was convenient, no? Well, actually, that's exactly where he stashed that paper in Chapter 5. I've waited so long...
So yeah... Oh, I had to buy pressured writing/typing gloves. Big recommend for those wanting to abuse their wee fingers with fanfiction. A big part in my "hiatus" was due to hand strain so we should see a speed up in chapters posted. Though, don't expect anything this week after sending out this monster.
Because it's such a momentous chapter, I think I'm gonna share a few bits about the "making of" this story. There are a shit ton of OC elements and places made for this fic so I'll just go over a few. Look, I'm the type of gal that enjoys useless information, okay? I promise I'm not aboard my own hype-train...
Choo-choo, bitches.
The Realm of the Almighty - This was actually something I penned for a different fic idea. The realm had been less regal but more or less the same. In that story, Gohan would have been "harvested" to serve gods rather than act as one like we see here. It would have followed themes of consent, brain washing and change. Juicy.
Mori, Rixas, Quell and Famis - Famis had originally lived... and he was such a fucking treat. I sadly killed him off for reasons to help the plot (particularly Quell's direction) and also because I think Rixas and Quell take enough focus as main characters without yet another brother. Famis' arc would have had him coming around to Gohan very slowly. As we'd seen in flashbacks, he'd hated Mori and that hate had continued to exist well into meeting Gohan. But things would have started to shift and they become close. He was the one brother who would have seen Gohan rather than Mori. Personality wise, he was introverted, quiet and a lot more in tune with sensitivity than the others. And according to my notes I have on him, he's asexual. Nice.
Rixas is no different. Litereally. The bi-furious bastard. Ignore him, let's move on.
Quell has always been a hard-ass, but that level of hard-assary has gone up and down. His racism and harsh attitudes are most definitely worse now than penned, but his emotional vulnerability is a lot more present. He cares. This was the case that I like to write male characters as emotionally expressive for the most part. Quell is one of the strongest characters out there and he's not devoid of love. This love and connection to Mori has always been there, making him more of a dad than a brother really. I think some of you recognized that : )
My old notes on Mori are much kinder than I have been to him. Mori was a sociopath. Then he wasn't. Then he was. Then he wasn't. Then he was misunderstood. Then he was tricked. Then he was a sociopath again. Then... Then... Then what indeed? We shall see.
Goten - Ha, he's not my OC but damn, I'm doing more with him than our boy Toriyama has ever done. Didn't he forget that Goten exists at one point? Oof. Well, in the original idea for this fic, Goten wasn't a main character. I'd had no Earth sections and we were going to return blind which would have been interesting upon seeing all these changes, but it works better this way. The balance is just so much better. We needed Earth to ground us.
For more information on the characters, I'll share link to some lazy art of them I couldn't be bothered to finish. I can't draw dbz so I didn't. Also, I'm not a grand master by any means but you can have a general idea of what certain characters look like in my head. Also, I threw in some trivia because I am who I am and I love that shit.
On DeviantArt, look for bonsimart. "A Horse with No Name -Art Dump" is the name.
Okay, that's me off. Shout out to those who left a review or a PM, and thanks for all favs and follows too. Lush, man.
Cheers for reading my essay and I'll see you on the next one!
