The Horse with No Name
Led through the mist
By the milk-light of moon
All that was lost is revealed
Our long bygone burdens
Mere echoes of the spring
But where have where we come?
And where shall we end?
If dreams can't come true
Then why not pretend?
Into the Unknown – The Blasting Company
Chapter Forty-One
Luxun's Domain I:
Drawn over 439 Mountain Area is a stretched, moody cloud of grey, and with it brings forth a slew of showers. This time of year is usually drier than most. November so very rarely rains, yet it does today, on and off, and Goten can't help but watch as the clouds come and go with comparable indecision. It's true. After everything, Goten too feels lost with how to occupy his time. He's been back home from the Realm of the Almighty for days now, a place where everything had been charged with electric anticipation, yet here, the air is calm, the pace, slow. All is suddenly so much… duller.
But still, the tightness in his chest remains.
He jitters whilst he sits. Every bang and creek and clatter has him sit upright in his chair as though the next whirl of excitement might burst into the living room at any point.
It doesn't.
Everything is still.
The calm before the storm, he thinks, watching the droplets trickle against the window.
Even now, his fingers furl and unfurl around his cup. The hot chocolate has long since gone cold, and only faintly does the dim, forgotten fragrance of it remind Goten of its presence. He just about manages a tepid sip for his mouth to droop unhappily. God, it's so bitter. Since being home, everything he tries is bitter. Goten remembers Gohan snacking on fruits and sweets for the longest time and now he knows why after sampling the Almighty's sugary cuisine.
Though, the newly acquired sweet-tooth is hardly his biggest problem. He's been agitated for a while now, having been bouncing between Fire Mountain and the family house in senseless motions. Of course, it's just been a fruitless effort to feel busy – to create the effect that he's doing something productive – and as a result there's only empty accomplishment because, really, he isn't achieving anything at all. So it begs the question; what can he do? What's next? How can Goten help?
For days, he's just been a sort of lump in front of the TV, waiting for Dad, for Rixas, for anyone to instruct him otherwise. Goten'd meant what he said to Videl. He's done sulking. He wants to do something, to help – just how? Sure, Goten brought home a dragon ball. Yet that was not only at the cost of his ki, but apparently also at the cost of his ability to do anything useful again.
His mind rages on. Gohan, the super dragon balls, Quell, the Realm of the Almighty… Revelation.
And now… what?
Luxun's Domain; whatever the heck that is.
Beside him, Trunks is restless in his own way, too. He lounges across the sofa and stares through the TV, not really watching it at all. It's the background noise they both need to not feel completely devoid of normality. The screen emits a laugh track that neither of them even so much as titter along with. Both Goten and he had stayed here last night, camped and squeezed together in Goten's room as though they're still little kids. It hadn't been confortable yet, even so, Trunks isn't in a rush to leave. Despite how sour he looks right now he's definitely less grumpy than he'd been upon turning up here. There'd been a fight with his mum – again – which is kind of strange actually. Whilst Trunks butts heads with Vegeta a lot, it's a rare occurrence with Bulma. So, of course, curious, Goten'd asked. He'd just received a non-committal grunt and a very Vegeta reminiscent glare… and so that was that.
Another curiosity comes in the form of the strange duo currently outside swapping strikes in the rain. You wouldn't believe they'd been locked together for God knows how many months with how they train. Whenever they get the chance, they're in the garden and doing stretches or katas or whatever the hell muscle-heads get up to.
"They're relentless," Trunks says when Dad is thrown into the tree outside. There's a great crunching of bark, and a ruffle of leaves before the groaning of snapping wood makes itself known. Moments before it's able to strike the house, they watch as Rixas catches the tree, silently laughing from the other side of the glass. "I wonder what Gohan would think," Trunks then adds, idly, "They get on pretty well."
Goten snorts. "A little too well."
Rixas has been staying here at the family house in spite of referring to it as a cabin less than a week ago. It's just… well… it wouldn't be so weird if it wasn't Gohan's room that he was staying in. Okay, it would still be weird considering his and Dad's bizarre history, but marginally less so, yet Rixas doesn't seem to find anything weird about it whatsoever. He's besotted with the room, having called in Goten several times to describe the earthly articles he's discovered in the drawers and cupboards several times over. Upon finding himself describing the function of a cat-shaped eraser, Goten had eventually considered that Rixas might be messing with him.
"I'm being serious!" Rixas had cawed, wearing one of Gohan's old pyjama sets and looking utterly ridiculous, especially when they bottoms alone are clearly two sizes too small. "Why would anyone use it? It would just erode its cute little face into nothing! You Earthlings are savages."
Since coming out of the chamber, any pretence of animosity is smoke in the wind. It's like he's an entirely different person. Before, there'd been the hints of playfulness hiding beneath the surface, but now, the curtain has been fully drawn back. Rixas is loud and brash, and he smiles so unreservedly that crow's feet stretch all the way to his ears. Honestly, it's all a bit much in spite of the situation. It's as if the guy is on holiday. Rixas tastes the samplings of Earth with unrivalled enthusiasm, asks question after question and plunders Gohan's room without a shred of shame. Even Goten feels whiplash from the character shift.
The only time Rixas had regained that streak of seriousness was when Goten took him up to Gohan's grave, as requested. It'd not been solemn, exactly. Rixas had folded his arms, twitched his fingers and lips and said nothing at all. It must have been unnerving to see it at most, Goten had later reflected – after all, this is the headstone of a person who's played with death time after time. What does the body in the ground really mean now anyway? Rixas wouldn't be sad about Gohan Son's passing, so… what'd been with that glum look across his face?
"It'd be best to get rid of it," he'd said.
Goten still isn't sure to what Rixas had been referring to; the gravestone itself or what lies beneath it. Whatever it is isn't brought back up again, at least not to him. Dad had at one point wanted to get rid of the grave, too. Goten recalls when months ago, Gohan had awkwardly brought it up, hunkered over Goten's studies alongside him. "Dad wants me to destroy the grave. Macabre, huh?"
"Maybe we should have an anti-death day party," Goten had joked like an idiot.
There'd been that measured laugh. "Oh, stop it, Goten. That's so dark."
God. It pisses him off. Gohan'd known even then, hadn't he? The asshole. He'd known about everything. What an idiot Goten feels now – Gohan had never the intention in destroying the gravesite, had he? Though, Goten has to give him credit for the academy-worthy acting on his brother's part. "Dark". Honestly.
This person, Goten thinks, watching Rixas collect Dad from off the ground outside, is the person who would really know Gohan now. He'd know the difference between an act and reality yet he still reveals so little. Whenever Goten asks about Gohan he gets pretty much nothing, zilch, maybe a pat on the head because Rixas likes to watch Goten's face cinder in frustration. When Trunks had asked about Gohan's powers the other day Rixas had gone to pat him too, not expecting the spicy reaction of a TV remote smashing into his face.
Dad hasn't asked any questions at all, which leads Goten to believe that Dad doesn't have any because he'd asked all his in the Room of Spirit and Time.
"I'm no' blatherin' all 'is dirty laundry," Rixas had said at dinner last night, mouth full of pike.
"He's got good principles, I guess," Trunks had later said, "It's commendable that he doesn't want to sell his brother out."
Well, that would be fine and dandy but they need to understand what's happened to screw Gohan up so much. Rixas can have his principles after they stop Revelation.
Otherwise, luckily, with the three days that have passed with Rixas as a fixture here on Earth, not much has gone except for the continuous training and the Supreme Kai's visit. Thankfully, Quell hasn't dropped by again. They'd been left to plan for Luxun's Domain, yet neither Dad nor Rixas is willing to say much about it.
All the secrecy is insufferable.
When the sofa cushion bounces up, Goten realizes that he and Trunks are no longer alone.
"What does the TV say today?" Rixas asks, immediately spewing rain water over, not only the fabric of the sofa, but Trunks and Goten too. "Hey, Middle-Parting, you stayin' again tonight?"
Trunks pushes him aside. "I told you to stop calling me that!"
"You're wet!" Goten pushes him back. "Ged'off!"
"Well, yeah. It's raining outside."
Trunks shoves at lout without fear. "Then go take a shower!"
"Goku is in there," he says pathetically. "And I'm cold. Let me nestle between you both and steal your warmth. Ah, yes, that's nice."
"Get lost, you lousy excuse for a god!"
"Uwah. What a mean boy. Goten, won't you defend me?"
Trunks nearly falls off the sofa when Rixas flails his way. "Don't be such a creep!"
"Just a little warmth—"
"How the hell did Gohan put up with you?"
"Oh nooo. Trunks is having his angsty teenage phase and I'm the victim of his hormonal rage! Won't anyone stop this senseless act of adolescence?"
"I don't get why you're both still training after doing it for all that time in the Time Chamber," Goten says, levelly. Rixas stills, the stupid grin softening only somewhat. "I mean, don't you both need to decide what you're doing about Luxun's Domain? I heard you talking about it a little last night."
Ears plastered to the door, Goten and Trunks had tried to listen in to Rixas and Dad's murmured conversation in the kitchen late at night before being shooed away.
"You said something about deciding who needs to go," Trunks adds from his safe side of the sofa.
"Oh, did I?"
"Yes," Goten backs up, "You also said that Gohan will be there."
"I actually said he'd probably be there."
Trunks bats a hand. "Semantics."
"Actually, not semantics. I'm really unsure on who'll go, and it's pretty important for us to correctly predict who it'll be from Team Revelation," Rixas reveals with a surprising bout of glibness, "It's not the sort of place you can just pop in and out of. We've gotta' be certain about our next move 'cause if we screw up there then we might mess up the chance at getting this dragon ball. Luxun's Domain is no joke."
Goten presses his luck. "Rixas, what is Luxun's Domain?"
"…Eh, I don't know if I should get into it."
"We're not asking to go."
"Good 'cause neither of you are setting foot into that hellhole." Rixas considers them both, scratching at his chin. "Mmm… I guess it's not like you're not gonna' find out anyway. Goku doesn't want either of you any involved – especially you." Goten at first thinks Rixas is referring to him but the gold settles on Trunks. The smile does finally thin. "I'm not to be expecting any funny business from you, am I?"
Trunks' chin rises. "What's the supposed to mean?"
Huh?
"It means your mum will kill me if you try running off and doing somethin' silly." Dad's voice comes from the door. He's leaning against it, towel around his neck and cheeks pink from the shower steam. The pyjama bottoms indicate to a day near done. "'Shower's all yours, Rixas."
"Ah. Sweet. I'm freezing my nips off h—"
Trunks grasps Rixas' arm before he can stand. "Luxun's Domain."
"Look at them. They're not gonna' stop their mithering, Goku."
"I know," Dad sighs, resigned. There is a stretch of silence taken, a moment of mourning so it seems. He scratches at the back of his head and looks between both him and Trunks. "But it's real important that you guys understand that you've gotta' stay out of all this from now on. It's dangerous."
Trunks gestures a thumb towards Rixas. "More dangerous than him?"
"I brought home the dragon ball," Goten points out, actually annoyed. "That's one more dragon ball than what any of you've delivered."
Rixas lets loose a low whistle. "Oh, shots fired."
"A-Ah, heh-heh, that's actually… a good point."
"Yeah, so maybe you should involve us."
"You did do a good job b—"
"Hold up. No, he didn't," Rixas then interrupts, "He nearly died. Don't you go trying to play your old man, Goten. Don't forget that I saw what state you put yourself in by eating that orb, you little dumbass. If Mori didn't rush you to the Spire and if Roarg didn't – look, anyway, it's in the past. You're done now. You're outta' the game. I'm happy to tell you about Luxun's Domain but there's nothing either of you can contribute to help."
"You don't know that."
"C'mon, Trunks," Dad says, a touch exasperated, "Neither of you have trained for years. Goten can't fight and you haven't wanted to for long while, not until recently. This is why we train persistently, y'know, for moments like this where we need to step up. I know you wanna' help Gohan but however you swing it, you're just not suited to being on the battlefield, not anymore. You're just… uh… You're—"
"Weak," Rixas finishes. "You're like a teeny-tiny ant."
Dad's lips close together and he grimaces. "You're not that bad. It's just—"
"I've taken shits more menacing than you."
"R-Rixas!"
Rixas shrugs, dragging his hair back and saying something to himself, presumably in Lanit-Tongue.
"Trunks—"
"Don't pamper me," Trunks cuts Dad off. His cheeks are rosy with heated embarrassment, eyes averted. "I know… I know I'm weak. Don't think I haven't heard it enough from my dad. I'm just lazy and undisciplined and…" His gaze falls to the outside and the pooling water along the windowpane. The words die.
Trunks…
Dad sighs, saying little else.
"Well, anyway, Luxun's Domain," Rixas finally says, cutting the thickening atmosphere nearly painlessly. Trunks' gaze remains distant. "It's a plane beyond the typical boundaries of the universe, completely ungoverned by the Kai and gods. I'm not too sure what you know about universal territorial disputes but this is one of the more well-known automatous regions; an area where divine regulation doesn't mean diddly-squat."
Goten pulls a face. "Uh, what? How can an entire place just… uh, shun gods?"
"And kais. Neither of us tend to the realm."
"I don't entirely get it," admits Dad to no-one's surprise. "Shin says that they just do their thing and that's that. Nobody bothers 'em."
"We communicate," Rixas asserts, "The royal 'we' that is because I've never had anything to do with them. Getting into Luxun's Domain is a pain in the ass and they really don't take kindly to anyone with divinity pottering about. You need a permit to enter and it has to be on a specific night of the month where the Black Moon is at the waning gibbous phase of its cycle."
Both Dad and Goten share a look.
"So just more than a quarter moon," Trunks educates grumpily, continuing when Goten turns to him in mild surprise. "Dad's into moon cycles for obvious reasons."
"The big problem is that this moon only appears once every few months," Dad continues, "And even worse, unlike Earth's moon, the moon's phase will change after a couple of days, which is super bad because that's the only time outsiders can get in, or even leave. That's when they open their gate."
"Yup. And they'll close it as soon as that waning gibbous is gone whether or not you're stuck inside… and what's inside with you isn't… exactly nice," Rixas grimaces. "And unfortunately, if you are in there, you'd have to suck it up and wait it out until they open that gate again – a month later."
"You'd be trapped," realizes Goten.
"So, basically, you need to divide your forces in case someone gets stuck," Trunks concludes, "And Gohan will be thinking the same, about who to send."
"That's pretty much it. Maybe Quell will go and Mori will stay out, or vice versa, maybe Mori will send the Zealites or Zamasu – though, I doubt it – or maybe the entire lot of 'em will take a daytrip. It's hard to guess because I know for a fact that whilst Mori will want to go himself, Quell won't want him there. Luxun's Domain is a dark place; one that takes great pleasure in making an example of the divinity it opposes."
"And that's why I should go," Dad says, "You're a target."
"Yeah, but you have no idea what to do. You've barely left this rock in your few measly years alive. And where have you been other than what, Namek and Yardrat? C'mon, Goku, do you think they'll all be rocking the common language in Luxun's Domain? Besides, it's not like you can fight there. There's not a lot you can offer."
"You can't fight there?" questions Goten. "It's that strict?"
Rixas splutters into his hand. "Ah, well, I mean, it's ki that's forbidden there so technically no. You could fight without ki but I still wouldn't recommend it. I mean, I'd be fine 'cause I don't use much of it anyway but any displays of public disorder will attract trouble and ruin our already strained relationship with the Domain. Besides, if you do use ki then it'll probably attract the Gh—"
"No ki." Trunks scoffs. "So it's Gohan's dream come true?"
"Nightmare, more like."
Dad raises a finger. "The good news is that Shin says it won't give Gohan and the others the upper hand. It's a pretty level playing field. But the idea of one of us getting stuck doesn't stick well with me… And we don't have long to decide because the Black Moon's wenning gibus—"
"—waning gibbous—"
"—is only a couple days from now."
Trunks leans back, brows disappearing behind lilac strands. "Will the dragon radar even work in a place like that?"
"The dragon what?"
"Uwah!" Dad jumps where he stands. "I'd completely forgotten about that! Yes, that's right! Rixas, we have a radar!"
"A radar for what? Wait… dragon balls? And you didn't say this sooner?"
Trunks shakes his head, and Goten can't help but have similar sentiments. "Idiot…"
"Gohan didn't say anything about it?"
Rixas journeys through his own brain, eyes sparkling in search. "I… I mean, maybe, I don't know. He said a lot but… God, a radar for relics… imagine that. That's dangerous in the wrong hands. I can't believe you guys have something like this, on a nowhere planet no less!"
Trunks agrees. "Yeah, it's a bit dumb…"
"Well, you know what this means? We could both go. We'd be in and out," Dad suggests. "With the dragon radar, we could find the ball really quick and get out before anyone realizes we were even there."
"Oh. Oooh."
Trunks clicks his fingers. "Boneheads. And if something happens to Earth while you're gone? Like you said, I'm but a teeny-tiny ant. Piccolo is all you have."
Dad scratches at the back of his neck. "Uh, well, no. Actually, we decided that, out of anyone, he definitely should go. He's pretty good with different cultures and stuff. Besides, he's also not taking 'no' for an answer on it. Oh hey, Rixas, think that permit could get all three of us in?"
"I'm sure your kai buddy could pull the right strings."
"And Earth?"
"Beerus and your Dad can come back in a flash, Trunks. Your mum has a payer."
"Pager, Goku."
"Yeah, that."
Trunks looks between them, horrified. "A… pager."
"A divine pager," Rixas elaborates, not without amusement. "Pa-pa is but a few beeps away so don't you worry your little head about it. Though, I mean, it's still not ideal, but I really can't imagine any big Earth showdowns going on anyway. Quell n' Beerus fighting here just spells disaster for the planet so Mori won't allow for that. A day of us being gone… I mean, that should be fine. All right. Sure. Goku, let's do it."
"And if Gohan does come?"
"Keh, Mori can't break protection barriers. He ain't getting in without Quell, and even then that would send off all kinda' alarms, making Beerus scurry his little tail here at lightning speed for another ass-walloping. And with this radar, I'll get that ball fast and be back, no sweat."
"We'll get the ball," Dad stresses, "And anyway, chances are that Gohan may also go to Luxun's Domain," Dad points out, "We've gotta' remember that that's a major possibility."
"Yeah, I think there's more chance of him being there than not," Rixas agrees, "Him and maybe the Zealite – that's still my best guess. But, really, what's he gonna' do if we have a dragon radar?"
"Steal it," Trunks deadpans.
They all turn to look at him.
"That's what I'd do if I grew up knowing all about it – knowing that my dad will probably be clawing and scratching his way there; I'd wait until they turn up with the thing I need to find the dragon ball and then swipe it."
That's… a really good point. Gohan will account for the dragon radar. He's smart like that.
"Oh, maybe we should take you, Middle-Parting," Rixas says to Trunks after a beat. "You're sneaky."
"Stop calling me that!"
Dad groans, thumbing his head against the doorframe. They're back at square one so it seems. Rixas gives him a fond pat on the shoulder before departing to the bathroom, looking equally frazzled by the situation. Trunks isn't sympathetic, as revealed later that night when in bed. He's camped out on a fold out bed beside Goten's, complaining constantly about not only the old springs but also Rixas and Dad's attitudes.
"They both want to go because they want to be in the thick of it, not because they'll be useful."
"We don't know that."
"What can your dad even do there? Rixas is right. It's not like he can go around beating people up. I reckon he just wants to go to try and talk some sense into Gohan. Fat chance of that happening. They have no idea what goes through his head."
Goten hums. That's true enough.
"And Rixas isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, is he?"
"Well, Piccolo will be with them."
"It's stupid," Trunks complains, squeaking as he shuffles, "They should just let Gohan do his thing."
"Eh?" Goten sits up immediately. "What do you mean by that?"
"…Nothin'. I'm just tired, and I'm sick of not being able to do anything… We get kicked out of everything, we can't do fusion and now…" There's a sigh. "Yeah, well, from one ant to another… g'night."
Trunks is also sour the next morning, watching as Piccolo and Rixas converse with a rotten expression. At least the weather is somewhat less dismal today. The rain has been replaced with a bitter chill and so, together, Trunks and Goten sit in puffer jackets on the doorstep. The pretence of going to school has been completely forgotten by this point.
Goten wrings chilled fingers around one another, and then around his beloved Power Pole. "You're on the school council. Shouldn't you be there? What about your grades?"
"Don't you think this is more important?"
It's strange because Trunks values his position there. He likes school. He likes being popular and the girls and the status. So what's going on here? Does Trunks actually care about all this? About ki and stuff? Honestly, it's just so unexpected how invested his friend has become in all this, because Gohan had just been Goten's older dead brother to Trunks at this point last year. When had all that changed? Why is Trunks suddenly so fiery?
"What's up?" Goten asks. "You're pissed."
Trunks side-eyes him. "I'm fine."
The stubborn asshole.
Between him and Dad moping, Goten feels at a loss. Rixas seems unnaturally cheery considering the situation, but that seems to be his natural disposition. At one point, Trunks goes to break the god's fingers when he ruffles the mop of lilac, before then storming in the opposite direction and into Goten's room.
"He's funny," Rixas says when Goten asks why he keeps antagonizing him. "Thinks a fair bit of Mori, huh?"
"I guess."
Rixas laughs, seemingly knowing something Goten doesn't. "There're a lot of pictures of you guys together in your family albums. Your mum's a hottie, ain't she?"
"Gross. Don't say that."
"I'm gonna' tell Mori when I see him."
Goten snorts upon trying to imagine Gohan's embarrassment. But he comes up short. How would this new Gohan react to that? Goten doesn't know – Goten doesn't know him.
"Don't you think it's unfair that you know so much about our Gohan when you won't tell us what you know?"
"Anh?" Rixas looks younger in a heartbeat, lip pulled, grumpy. "I've said—"
"I dunno' what you've told Dad but clearly you know more than you're letting on. That Doctor Hezk woman may not be a good person… and she may have helped with what happened at the Spire but… she knows stuff, right? She worked with Gohan on his memories. If we all sat down together then we could—"
"Mori would hate that," Rixas cements.
"Gohan needs help."
"Mori values his privacy and I respect that. I'm not working with a traitor – you wouldn't understand, you're just a kid – and I'm not willing to sell out my brother's personal life out."
"I'm just a kid? Gohan had barely been older when he got snatched up by you guys!" Goten huffs, flicking a stone into the forest beyond with the pole. "Think about that. Mori might be some super old god but Gohan isn't. He's sad. He's angry. He's a mess. You all played with his head before he was even an adult. Can't you see how screwed up that is? You're the one who pointed out something weird with him. That's why you're here, right? You wanna' fix it? You know what he's doing is wrong yet you're saying you don't wanna' betray him? Tch, come on. Before all the reincarnation maybe Mori didn't have a scrambled brain, I don't know, maybe he was completely fine, but—"
"He wasn't," Rixas slips out, quiet. "He'd had a rough time… since Famis…"
"…A-Ah, well…" Goten's shoulders loosen, the Power Pole droops. "Then, there you go, I guess."
After a beat of silence, there's a moan and the god has his head in his hands. "You're all babies; you mortals…"
Yet Rixas is the one reacting like a little kid. Goten leans over and gives him a pat on the arm, resting his hand there. "Gohan was a mortal, too."
"Yeah, I know."
Rixas then stares at the pole in Goten's hold. When his hand gently reaches for it, Goten lets the smooth wood slide between his own fingers and into Rixas'. "It's my dad's… I mean, he's pretty much let me have it now, but I don't know what I can do with it since I lost my… yeah."
Rixas twirls it in experiment, naturally looking like a master after three seconds of coming into contact with it. He spins it into the grey sky, red splashing loudly until snapping against palmed skin. He flexes it before bopping Goten lightly on the head.
"I'll think about what you said," he says, almond eyes soft. "Here, your stick."
"It's not a stick. It's special."
"Heh, your special stick then."
There's a gruff voice calling out his name from the forest; Piccolo, stands as moody as ever, likely waiting for Rixas to come back over. Rixas turns back to Goten, smiling a last time.
"You're a good kid. I kinda' get Mori's brother complex a bit more now. Let's chat later, 'kay?"
They don't get chance to talk later. The Supreme Kai drops by that night with what must be the permit. Trunks and Goten watch through the crevice between the hallway wall and door as Piccolo, Dad and Rixas gather around the table. It's decided.
They'll leave for Luxun's Domain tomorrow.
Regardless of any common sense, all three of them are going.
Luxun's Domain's outskirts, Landing Platform #2
Goku pulls the cloak around his shoulders. People bump whilst they go, one after another, as he walks through the cloud of his own breath and onto the bustling platform. Despite the influx of people, the air remains bitter, and the sharp chill that runs through the tip of his fingers and along his spine has him wish he'd layered appropriately. Unlike the bite in 439 Mountain Area, here, it feels to be on the icy edge of snowfall with speckles of wet chill tingling his lips and setting his ears immediately ablaze.
Piccolo makes a grunt of dissatisfaction as he follows behind, notably slower than normal. Less flustered, but in similar wintery robes, Rixas stands at his side, hooded but mask-less and scouring the station for a sense as direction on where they need to manoeuvre next. Crowds pour out from the aircrafts they'd just arrived in, the people all in such varying shapes and sizes that even Piccolo doesn't stand out at his impressive height.
Whilst the sparse concrete grounds stretch on for an astounding length very little can actually be seen. It's dark already. Rixas had said that it'll be dark on the inside but even here, at the mouth of the entrance, it looks as if they're at the edge of the universe and overlooking the vast emptiness beyond. Only an unassuming half-ish moon stares back.
As they walk onwards, the floor lights soon end their journey, and both the light and noise pollution from the aircrafts are but only a memory, disappearing to the void.
Goku doesn't like the place already.
It'd taken a portal and an airship to get here – to the middle of nowhere – and the first sensation Goku realizes upon arriving is dread. He feels immense unease when no less than six uniformed individuals arrive, their faces shielded with caged masks, to lead their group down an open road and up and along to a foreboding, ugly building arched high into the blackening gradient. Thankfully, it's not completely pitch black here. Two torches burn either side of the doorway they're being led through.
It's ominously quiet. Goku wants to ask questions but his lips are pasted together. All around, nobody speaks much except for the occasionally whisper, a cough here or there. There is a shuffle of papers – documents, Goku thinks, perhaps the permits – and rustling of bags, yet the usual sounds accompanying travel is lost; Goku has yet to hear a child's voice.
Inside the building is equally dismal, and equally inaudible. It reminds Goku of a place Chi-Chi dragged him to years ago; a civic centre, where he'd needed to be in order to do something or other to get Gohan's birth certificate when he'd been a baby. Goku'd complained for the better part of two hours because of how dull it'd been, lounging across multiple seats and entertaining Gohan until they'd both fallen asleep. Here, however impossible, is worse. Queues of people spew from desks where one of the cage-faced people inspects what must be the permit, opposing a door where, tediously after meticulous examination, they allow those waiting through.
Goku groans.
They join the line and Goku wants to explode after only five minutes. His legs become restless after ten. Piccolo tells him to behave after fifteen.
Rixas goes through the permit papers Shin gave to him just this morning. They're about as grey and dull as the place they're made for, not that Goku can understand any of the drawling script, although that's not to be said for the shiny bronze signature at the bottom; it'd been earlier pointed out as the Kai insignia and something both necessary to get the permit for speed's sake and a possible determent to their entry.
Indeed they're stopped for longer than the other people.
The cage-face between them and the freedom door behind is a woman. Her voice is low and dreary and completely not understandable to Goku, but luckily Rixas does understand. He points to something on the document when she stares at it for what feels like a million years. Piccolo bats him when Goku's legs grow restless. Above her desk, the cage-face turns to them, fast, and Goku feels like he's being glared at, and even Piccolo, too, flinches. Eventually, she responds to Rixas and they have enough back and forth that Rixas starts to show signs of irritation. He sharply gestures to the documents again and then the signature, voice sharply on the increase.
The cage-face then gestures to Rixas' hood, and after a stilted moment he does lower it. The golden glow of his eyes are especially stark here, several other travellers turn to look at him.
"Is there a problem?" Goku asks Piccolo quietly.
There is grumbling behind. The queue is discreet but unhappy.
Rixas says something else and pulls the hood back up and Goku starts to worry they may not be allowed in, but then, finally, the cage-face snatches up the permit and adds it to the pile of papers aside her. She waves them in direction of the door. Goku nearly dances through to the other side.
"Bitch," Rixas grumbles the moment they're out of earshot.
"What'd been the problem?"
"What'dya think? The Kai emblem."
"They don't like kais that much?"
"Or gods. They're gonna' mark my entry down in the Special Operations Prevention system, which just means they want to keep their eye on me." He clicks his tongue. "I hope if Mori is here that they gave him the same amount of hassle. I'm starting to think it must be him here 'cause Quell won't put up being treated like this."
Piccolo is the last to enter, holding three bands. "They told me to give you these."
"In Common?" Rixas asks, surprised, "I'll have to watch my tongue. Oh, these are just to mark us as visitors. We'll have to keep them on so long as we're here."
It fits snuggly around Goku's wrist, leathery and unassuming. There's a fluorescent green strip on his and Piccolo's. Rixas gets the red. When Goku goes to readjust the band to better show off the strip he finds it stuck.
"What? Ah? It won't come off."
"It will when we leave. I've seen these before. They'll scan us at the next gate."
And they do. Another set of cage-faces send them through a detector and that's when they scan the wristbands. It's also when they stop Rixas for another round of interrogation. While Rixas spits feathers at them, one cage-face examines Goku's dragon radar as another goes to see the mysteries beneath Piccolo's turban.
Then, they're escorted to a final door. Freedom is in sight. It's not just them. A wave of visitors follow, though not as many as who'd been queued up, still quiet but appropriately more disgruntled than they'd been before all this mayhem. Some must have dropped at each entry barrier.
Goku is the one to push the door open.
"Finally," Goku breathes, craving fresh air.
When his eyes adjust, the reveal to Luxun's Domain isn't as grand as anticipated. Rixas'd been right. It's just more black, more dark, and more of those sombre torches. From what Goku can see, it's quainter than anything else. Cobblestones stitch narrow streets together, connected by the overhanging lanterns that dangle from wires connecting the buildings. Such buildings are leaning, crooked with rusted, with chipped faces and raw-boned columns rooted to just about keep them apart.
Around, ashy smoke courses upwards as the smells of charred meat floods circles. Goku coughs at the harshness. His nostrils singe as he treads.
Goku passes alleys and the people that walk down them; they disappear with small lanterns and torches of their own. At least the shop fronts are visible, just about. They have lamps too, hanging at the door, rattling as patrons come and go as inaudibly as Goku's ever heard.
Beyond the group of travellers now dispersing, there are what Goku guesses must be the locals.
In contrast to the multitudes of colourful visitors he'd seen outside, they're a pallid people, with pinched, tightly compacted skin that curls under protruding cheek bones, and in spite of having larger eyes than earthlings, they're glassy, some milky, with mousy-coloured eyelashes that brush along cheeks much like a camel's would. There's a lack of alertness to the stare. It peers emptily beneath equally listless hair. Goku wonders if some can't see at all.
They look sickly.
Probably because of the lack of sun and nice weather.
Yes, it's equally as cold within Luxun's Domain as it is at its door, so understandably the people are in suitable attire; thick materials such as wools and furs are spotted throughout the thin crowd.
Goku rubs his hands along his own jacket. It's really cold here.
Also in the bustle of people, several of those uniformed cage-faces stand guard aside doorways, hands resting on the outlines of what very well could be swords.
"Goku, what does the dragon radar say?" asks Piccolo, also staring.
"Oh, right." Goku pulls it out. The yellow flashing indicates that indeed they're drawing closer to a dragon ball. "It's not too far."
"That's really it, huh?" Rixas peers over his shoulder, hood drooping. "Wow, not bad, Earth people."
"Bulma and her dad are as smart as they come so it's not that much of a su— Oh, wow, Rixas, your eyes look really bright here."
Self-consciously, Rixas tugs his hood lower.
There's a sudden whoosh and they all turn as one large flame bursts to life, it climbs high from its copper basin, turning all around a shimmering shade of orange. A hefty cage-face drums the basin with a baton. He shouts something. Goku can't understand but luckily they have someone who can.
"Ah, right. He's telling us when the gate'll shut," Rixas explains, "We have about 31 Earth hours. That's how long the fire will burn for and how long the Black Moon will remain in the waning gibbous phase."
"Plenty of time."
"Remember that Gohan might be here," Piccolo says, his eyes peering over the crowds. "We won't be alone. He might have also brought some… friends."
"That Zealite would fit in well here," Goku says, "With how dark and creepy it is."
Rixas hums. "For sure. Though, if he's here I can't say I'd recognize him, especially without his smoky get-up. So just stay vigilant, boys."
They're stared at a bit. Sallow eyes follow them as they tread down the cobblestone path, especially gazing after Rixas the few times he pulls his hood down to be better see something. The pinpricks of gold are like starlight. Goku wonders if it'll be the same for Gohan. His eyes had been just as vibrant the last time he saw him. Maybe it would be worth asking around actually. If Rixas stands out so much then maybe these people might have seen Gohan.
"What do you think you're doing, Son?"
Goku stops just outside a shop. "I'm gonna' go ask that lady over there if she's seen Gohan."
"No, you idiot," Piccolo scolds, "Follow the radar. The dragon ball is more important right now."
"But—"
"Eyes on the prize," Rixas says, "Dragon ball first. Besides, if what Trunks said is worth some merit then Mori will probably try and find us."
"Gohan has never been the aggressor before," Piccolo replies, unsure. Still, he drags Goku away from the shop anyway and along the thinning lane. "He's not the type to make the first move."
Rixas snorts. "You're going off'a out-dated info there, buddy. When that hero complex of his is in control then he's totally gung-ho."
"His hero complex, tch. Then that's not changed. Was he helping people, before all this?"
Goku is interested, too. However, Rixas is still tight lipped about so much. The latter doesn't crack, grimacing and waving them away. "Forget it. Let's go."
They're walking for quite a while. Goku wants to fly because it would be a million times easier to zoom over the top of all these shanties, and he voices it over and over, annoying Piccolo so much that he threatens to stuff his fist down Goku's throat.
Rixas isn't as bothered with the walking, surprisingly.
"We have a 'no fly' rule at the estate too, for the most part," he tells them, "The Realm of the Almighty, Geo and many of the older places of deity practice have similar traditions. They're branches of the same tree."
Goku's confused. "I thought you said that this place doesn't answer to the gods?"
"Luxun's Domain… It's in the name. This place is the devoted sanctuary to Luxun, a previous god. There was a load of drama back in the day, way, way before me, and, well, long story short, this is what's left."
"And Luxun now?"
"Dead. Rixas breathes a steady breath. "Sort of."
"Sort of?"
"Eternally un-dead, dead – one in the same, right?" He laughs, airy, nervous. There's definitely more to this. When Goku grabs a hold of his arm, Rixas sobers. "Look, you'll see soon enough, if the rumours suffice."
"What's that supposed to mean?" snaps Piccolo.
"It's not like we can fight him," Rixas says, pulling away and trudging onwards. "Come on, let's go. Your radar says it's this way, right? In and out, that's what we planned, isn't it? Chop, chop."
"Rixas—"
There's an ear splitting scream.
"What…?"
In the wayward distance they hear another, and then another, a chorus of crying carries as a string of echoes, shrill in the dark beyond. Beside him, Piccolo flinches but neither immediately moves. There's the sound of pattering against cobbles, shoes against stone; boots, heels, hooves perhaps, climbing in beats per second like an ever increasing heart-rate. More screaming follows, shouting too, and all around, Goku hears doors and windows banging closed. Wood strikes wood. The clicks of locks churn.
"Come on!" Rixas orders, turning onto the main street.
Goku chases after him, passing other people running in similar direction. The once quietly humming street is chaotic now. Men, women and ilk alike are shouting at one another in a flurry of languages. Perhaps it's just the one. They all sound the same. Squawking, yelling, wailing; the madness is sudden.
"What's happening?" Piccolo demands.
"Over there," Rixas dismisses, "Come on! This way!"
He leads them to a heavy set of doors slowly creaking together. Others are darting inside, passing ornate stone and into the grips of a mature building, one that's about as decrepit as the shacks surrounding but open nonetheless. Goku, Rixas and Piccolo join them – just about – moments before the door brushes closed past Piccolo's trailing cape. Outside, the screams muffle.
"What's going onff—?"
Rixas hand clasps over Goku's mouth, dragging him to the floor. Others are also crouched low below wood-shielded windows. They stare at Goku and the others with their wide, chalky eyes.
"Shh…" Rixas whispers. Piccolo looks more confused than anything, yet he hunkers beside them.
They wait.
This place looks like a restaurant, or pub maybe, with tables haphazardly positioned around the crooked alcove. Glasses litter tables. Plated food with half-eaten portions lies in wait. A stretched bar-top connects one side of the room to another and many patrons and workers alike hang below it. Goku hears faint whispering but it's quickly hushed. Eventually, one of the locals steadily walks over to the assortment of the dim lanterns on the bar-top, blowing each out into quick death. The hazy room dissolves into black.
Rixas' eyes now truly glow, only fleetingly because they disappear. He must have closed them.
So the only streaks of light now bleed in from under cracked wood. It glitters across the mass of people. Just as Goku goes to talk again, there's a hiss of wind outside, and what little light there is suddenly stolen. Goku sees nothing at all.
But then, he hears it.
Whispering. It's not one voice, but a choir of disjointed people talking all at once. He understands none of it, and wouldn't have even if it were in Common. Soon enough, the whispering grows louder and louder, as though the crowd is approaching the little pub itself.
The hand over his mouth tightens.
Suddenly, there's another scream. This time it's right outside the building.
The crowd of whispers is louder, practically shouting in their hoarse tones. It devours the claimed victim. Screaming becomes tarry.
On instinct, Goku shuffles. What's happening? Someone out there is hurting. They need to help them!
When there's banging on the door, Goku tries to get up but Rixas is strong. He keeps Goku firmly stuck.
What is everyone doing?
Someone's shouting, crying, begging.
And nobody is moving!
They can't just leave them out there!
Goku bites at the hand. His teeth sink but still, Rixas doesn't let go; madly, the hand balls into a fist and presses into Goku's bite. The taste of tangy metal has Goku want to spit. He tries again and this time he feels Piccolo's coarse grip on his arm.
Stop, he would insist.
And then the shouting outside does just that. There's a wail, a final thud against the wood and then… nothing. The whispers, too, fizzle away, humming along down the road and into oblivion.
Goku wilts in Rixas' hold.
"Well, that was worse than I thought," Rixas whispers cryptically. "I didn't think it'd come into the town…"
What?
Goku stays like that for some time, listening to otherwise silence, waiting with the others, sick to his stomach, crouching until the light beyond the boarded windows returns. The moonlight catches him in the eyes and then in Rixas' ominous golden almonds as the latter pulls back his hand and wipes it along his robes.
The lantern's lights return and soon enough, slowly, the hidden reveal themselves, drawing upwards with wary steps. Goku, too, stands. He instantly reaches for the door.
"Wait," a man – a local – says in a thick accent, "There is not'in you can do for 'em."
Goku's hand lowers. "What was that?"
"Te' Ghost of Luxun's D'main." The grimace is watery. His hand beckons them as he makes his way over to the bar. "Come. Spend a penny in my t'vern consid'rin its roof saved your lives. You don' want'er go back out there yet anyway, I promise you. Te' guards will be… cleaning."
Around, the people have settled into small clusters, lowly talking amongst themselves. Some pay their group no mind. Others watch, curious. Goku finally spots a child. Impossibly wide eyes watch as he follows the man.
"There's a ghost?" Goku questions Rixas.
"Not exactly," he mutters back, "That's just what they call it."
The man sets three thick-rimmed glasses down on the bar, pouring a soupy sort of liquid out of a canister. "Then wha' woul' you call it?"
Rixas doesn't say, and instead passes the man a golden half coin for the "drinks". Goku looks at the bubbling broth with out-of-character queasiness. Piccolo refuses to even stand next to his.
"Oh, gold'n eyes…" The man hums, staring at Rixas under the hood. "I bet you have some opinions."
Rixas sups at his drink. He shrugs, a half-smile present when he displays his red wristband. "I've gotta' be careful with my… opinions."
"You do," the man agrees, "No' seen one of your lot here for some time."
"As far as you know."
"Right you are. What colour's ye wristband?"
"You know what colour it is."
"Mm. Don't loiter 'fter ye drink."
"When can we leave?" Piccolo queries, "Is that thing still out there?"
There's a slap against the bar, a grisly, dirtied finger pointed towards them. "Close your mouth," the man barks at Piccolo, "Do not disrespect us, foreigner!"
Before Piccolo can respond, Rixas does. "He doesn't understand. Please forgive his rudeness."
"Lord Luxun blessed this place. Outsiders like you are guests. Respect our Ghost. Respect our abstinence from unbiased light." A look is shot in Rixas' direction. "The golden brightness has no place here."
"Don't I know it," Rixas says, "Don't rattle yourself, old man. I'm not involving myself with Luxun's memory."
"Lord Luxun—"
"Lord Luxun, then. Thanks for the drink."
"I'm so confused," Goku whispers when the barkeep stalks away, gold half-pence snatched up from the top. "What happened out there? The… uh… ghost was hurting people, right? I thought you said they don't like gods? Luxun was a god—"
"Shut up and drink your sludge," Rixas says, turning around on his bar seat. "And don't say anything incriminating. You too, Piccolo."
"Tch."
People obviously died outside. Why's this guy getting all defensive when something just tore through the streets and killed one after the other? Goku didn't do anything either – he couldn't. It's just like when Quell'd killed that Zealite in front of him, or when Rixas'd killed Gohan. Helpless. He'd been helpless. It makes him feel angry and useless and... ugh, his training in the Room of Spirit and Time was supposed to change that.
"Lord Luxun is our saviour."
Goku jumps. "Ah?" Who said that?
"Hello," comes the voice again. Goku turns and sees the girl who'd earlier been staring at him. She's small, a petite thing, cute. Her accent is noticeably less thick.
"Uh, what did you say?"
"Lord Luxun," she repeats, "He liberated us from the oppressors. We should always remember to be thankful. Are you here to offer your gratitude, too? A sacrifice, maybe?"
"Uh, not exactly."
"I think you should," she says with a stern expression. "Your friend was very rude about him. Penance will absolve you. You should sacrifice him to the Ghost. You could throw him in the lake."
Goku splutters. "E-Er, I'll keep that in mind."
Piccolo sends him a glare, his mouth is cemented.
"That's great." She smiles, a tooth missing, and Goku's heart melts despite his discomfort. "I like your skin," she then adds, reaching out to trail icy fingers along Goku's. "It's shiny. My father says that shiny skin is healthy, and that most foreigners have it. He's a head guardsman here so he sees lots of people like you."
"Oh, really? What's your name?"
Noticeably, Rixas shakes his head.
"We don't have names," she says, appalled, "How arrogant a thought."
"Ahh? Then what do people call you?"
"Why would they do that?"
Goku turns to Rixas and Piccolo in desperation. Amused, Rixas raises a glass, and Piccolo just stares on in equal bewilderment.
"Sweetheart," Rixas then says to her, finally taking pity on Goku, "I don't think your father would like you talking to foreigners, would he? We'll make sure to behave ourselves now. You have been a wonderful child of the domain. Consider us humbled."
Impossibly, the greyness of her cheeks colour. "Pretty," she murmurs, moving away from Goku and onto Rixas. Her hands grapple upwards. "You're even shinier."
There's creaking on the other side of the room. Finally, the door is being plied open. Groaning stone allows for the chill of fresher air that Goku's never wanted to dive into so quickly. But the girl isn't done. She snags Rixas' cloak and doesn't let go, even when spoken to in a language Goku doesn't understand. Rixas is patient with her, gentle.
"We need to go now," he tells her, lowering down to a knee. Compared to him, she looks truly ashen, ill. "But we'll be sure to sacrifice the nasty green man especially for you. How's that?"
She beams again. "If it's you to do it I'm sure it will bring prosperity. Maybe the new Sun will rise and the Ghost will be happy again."
Goku frowns. This kid is talking all sorts of crazy but he can't help himself. "The new Sun? Is that good? Then no-one would be hurt by the Ghost?"
"That's what my father says."
Now he's really curious. He wants to ask more, but that's when the grumpy barkeep returns, ranting, and shooing them away and out of the clustered pub, and then into the frosty embrace of the lane. Rixas snorts when the door bangs closed.
"We're indoctrinators, apparently."
"Eh? Doctors?"
Piccolo sighs. "No, idiot. That guy thought that we were brainwashing the kid."
"Really?"
"They're very devoted to Luxun here," Rixas says, "I'd only heard rumours as to how much, but like, wow, these people don't even care that the dude is literally swallowing up his people."
Huh?
Piccolo's patience is running thin on the matter. "Rixas, what do you know? Don't you think you should have given us some warning back there?"
Rixas hums, walking into the dark along the cobblestones. It's as they'd left it. Whatever had trailed down these roads hasn't left any trace, not a body, not a stain, though; this is probably in thanks to the guards – the cage faces – that position themselves at each corner. Their heads churn in following, owlish. Goku feels very watched.
"The dragon radar, Goku," Rixas says pointedly, eyes trailing over to their observers.
Oh, right. Yeah. Goku brings it out and finds that the dot is stagnant. Wherever it is it's staying still in one place. That's good news. Maybe no-one's found it yet.
"Straight ahead."
They walk further yet, passing more or less the same sort of dwellings. Great clusters of wood-built shanties climb ever higher the deeper they go into the heart of the domain. They pierce one another, splinters crashing into other splinters crashing into ill-placed windows and doors. None are adorned with personal affects. Goku recognizes no personality in the spaces, and where possible, candles and lanterns sporadically find homes in the alcoves in between. However, the light is starved, so much to a point where Goku can barely see a few feet ahead of him.
Wherever they've found themselves is now even quieter. The few whispered conversations halt. People break away, they part for them, hiding behind their doors and fragmented walls; they meld into the black.
Goku has never felt anxious about talking before. But this place… it's unsettling. He doesn't want to break the silence, and in that he's not alone. There's the sense that Piccolo has a thousand and one questions, although Rixas doesn't look willing to answer any, or even speak nonetheless – well, not until they reach the edge.
The speckled lights have thinned so much that they're barely worth much at all now. No other foreigners like themselves can be seen, nor can the locals. The cobblestones finally die to dirt. Flecks of foliage dare to exist.
"Well," Rixas finally says, sounding impossibly loud after at least an hour of silence, "Still onwards, I assume, Goku?"
"Uh, yeah, that's right." The radar beeps. It echoes into the eternal night. "It says to go straight, still."
"Grand."
Yeah… "Grand".
Beyond is completely and utterly impossible to decipher. It's lucky they can hone in on Rixas' radiating eyes for position because they truly are facing the unknown, an eternity in contrast to the whiteness of the Room of Spirit and Time. And if Goku is honest; he doesn't like any of it one bit. Finally away from the peering eyes of the people here, he is tempted to power up to Super Saiyan just for a bit of lighting, but Rixas doesn't allow for it.
"It'll know," he says simply.
The Ghost.
"Will it be out there?" Piccolo asks, similarly as uneasy as Goku.
"Yeah, I reckon so."
"That whispering was awful," Goku adds, "I felt sick listening to it."
"At least we'll know if it comes our way."
Goku looks around. Really, no one is here, Ghost included, not even any cage faces. "Can you say more about it now? You didn't wanna' before, right?"
Piccolo agrees. "Yes, we need to understand what we're facing."
There's no reply. Rixas does however move. There are faint footsteps which don't stray too far, a shuffle of material against the floor and then the scraping of something hard. Then, he appears to them, birthed under sudden light. Those golden eyes shine against new fire, hardened and serious as they peer beyond a freshly lit torch. He lights two others from the nearest lantern, passing one apiece to both Piccolo and Goku.
"It's just… this place… is complicated," Rixas finally tells them after a bout of nothing. The gears in his head work overtime. "I… wanted to tell you both more but I didn't know what'd been true. I'd only heard… some stuff about the Ghost. I just knew that these guys here were super into worshiping him."
Piccolo's annoyance hasn't pacified. "Then what do you know?"
His torch lowers momentarily and in the pitch black, Rixas vanishes when he steps back.
"Rixas—"
"We've got a bit of a history with this place, and it's not a good one. Come on, let's walk ahead."
"We? Who's we?"
The hardness of the pathway is swapped for soft beds of grass. Rixas' torch flickers, illuminating such a small section of it ahead. "The Gods of Revelation. I, uh, look, I'm not very proud of it."
"What did you do?"
"…"
"Rixas?"
When Rixas stops, Goku nearly walks straight into his back. "Tch. I told you before that this place and Luxun is way, way before my time," the god bites out, "I didn't do jack, and not even the reckless idiots before us did this, or the ones before them. I'm talking, like, WAY back. Luxun was one of the earliest gods recorded. He'd been the OG; y'know, the first God of the Heavens."
"Heavens?"
"…It'd not been called that back then. It'd been known as the Upperworld before well…"
"Well, what?"
There's a dark laugh. "Revelation, of course."
There's a sinking feeling in Goku's stomach. It feels like such a dirty word.
"Actually, it'd been the first documented one," Rixas continues lowly, "The Upperworld and Underworld faced the most aggressive and divine Revelation – the dismantling of what made them them; their structure was torn apart and their balance thrown. The Upperworld collapsed completely and many souls disintegrated into something else entirely. They say the fragments of those who once existed forged into pure antagonism; into the Ghost of what devout principles Luxun once stood for."
"The Ghost," Piccolo realizes.
Goku thinks about it. "Then this place was…"
"The Upperworld. The old heavens, right. Luxun died, you see, at the hands of my ancestors. Though, that's hardly common knowledge to the basic people dwelling here. All they know is to hate the authority – be it god or kai – that had thwarted their god. They'd felt wronged, after all. And they're right to a point. They had been wronged. The Revelation had brought disarray, and the imbalance not only doomed the Upperworld but also the Underworld. For a long time, the universe was a hot pile of shit. Souls went haywire, possessing all kinds of things and people. So many of the relics were birthed from all the broken soul fragments just gluing themselves to things. Magic exploded. It'd really been a catalyst of crap hitting the fan."
"Uwah! Souls can do that? That's so creepy!"
"Mortal souls are just spiritual energy blobs come to life," Rixas elaborates, "That energy can be made into manna, but…" He shudders. "It's gross. I don't even wanna' think about it. Oh, be careful just now, we're entering a forest of some kind."
"But there's no sun in this place," Piccolo says, "How are there trees when—? Goku, what is it?"
Goku swerves his torch behind when he feels sudden unease. The flame follows, spitting embers. Yet the darkness lies innocent.
They're alone.
No Ghost. Slowly, Goku resettles the torch ahead.
"Goku?"
"Sorry, just… This place is eerie. So, uh, Rixas… what happened to the God of the Underworld? There'd been one, right?"
"Heh, yeah. That god…" Rixas stares forward, not really seeing. "I hate him."
"He's still alive?"
"Unfortunately. But someone has to do his job, I suppose. I'm just hoping he doesn't become any more involved than he already is."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we've got his dragon ball on Earth, haven't we? That's who gave it to Mori in the first place."
"Lord Haed…" Piccolo murmurs. "That's him, right? The Supreme Kai mentioned him to Lord Quell once. It'd been an underhanded threat. He'd wanted to put pressure on Lord Quell."
"Ah, yeah. That'll do it. Quell isn't at all a fan. Well, none of us are, really. The kais like to hover him above us to remind the Gods of Revelation of the giant fuck up of yesteryear, the one that got away and all that." There's a click of the tongue. "What you gotta' know is that Haed is revered by the kais, admired even; he's older than most of us – kais included – put together so I kinda' get it. What I don't get is why they trust him not to stick his creepy claws into politics. He's about as slimy as them."
"And he's helping Gohan?"
"That or Mori bargained for the ball. I don't know what's worse."
This well is running deeper than Goku first realized. It's strange to think of other Revelations, and how different ones have altered the universe. Back in the Time Chamber, Rixas had told Goku that Revelation is part of the parcel of existing, much like how death is the next stage in life. But not all Revelations are made equal. This one with ki, Rixas agrees, feels foul. Goku wonders if it's comparable to the first Revelation, and the worlds destroyed because of it.
The walk takes longer than anticipated, with each footstep drawn out as though he's wading through mud. It really is eerie. There are the usual sounds of the night; creature noises which follow them, nocturnal birds with lonesome singing, indecipherable rustling and crunching beneath boots. There's a hiss of swaying foliage despite being little to no wind.
A smell of something rotten has Goku grasp at his nose. Piccolo outright coughs.
"Brimstone," Rixas tells them. He then lowers the torch to the ground and brushes his fingertips along the grass there. They must return with residue of some kind because he rubs the fingers between themselves. "Does the radar tell us to keep going forward?"
The flashing dot is barely legible in the dark. "Yeah."
Rixas sighs and stands to attention. "Follow my steps exactly."
There's a cracking of twigs behind. All three freeze, waiting.
Piccolo jolts in a flash, jumping left when a whir of motion gusts by his ear. A shrill squawk cries from beyond the trees.
"I fucking hate this place," Rixas complains after the stilt of silence. "God, I wish I knew the time. I'm already ready to leave."
"I think we've been here about five or six hours," Piccolo says.
"Oh, shit, stop."
They do. Goku's heart climbs up his throat, pounding upon hearing a resounding gurgle nearby. That rotten smell increases in aggression.
Waving his torch right, the flames illustrate no trees or foliage at all, but the stretching of something along the ground. It looks like a huge reddened path. Only when Goku leans a little closer does he see it moving. A bubble pops. The stench is retched.
"I haven't seen one of these in a long time," Rixas says, "Don't go near it."
"What is it?"
"A Sinner's Lake." There's a derisive scoff. "Those who have sinned against divinity are baptized of their evilness. Realms and planets of worship used to use these a lot until they were marked as inhumane. Most were filled in. Looks like they forgot one…"
"Do you think the people here still use it?" Piccolo asks.
Goku's reminded of the kid back in the pub. "Your friend was very rude about him," she'd said. "Penance will absolve you. You should sacrifice him to the Ghost. You could throw him in the lake."
He swallows the lump of dryness. "Yeah, I do."
Rixas nods.
"Isn't it strange how, even though it's clearly fire, it doesn't glow?" Piccolo then says. "We couldn't see it even just feet away from us."
That's a good point. Goku can't even see the dragon radar without the use of his torch despite it being glow-in-the-dark. Are these flames special? They look normal to him.
"Your eyes, though, Rixas…" Goku inputs, "I can see them a mile off."
The eyes of the gods.
Goku takes another look at his flames. The torch crackles infinitely.
Rixas admires his own torch. "The fire must be blessed or divine… or straight out of Luxun's ass for all we know. C'mon, I don't wanna' look at this lake anymore."
It turns out that there is little choice in the matter. The lake curves around, cutting the forest and the path they need to take cleanly away. It would be impossible to cross without flying. Yet there are no nearby bridges or no trees thick or long enough to be pulled down to construct one.
The dragon radar doesn't care however. The route is eternally forward.
"Shit," Rixas curses. He kicks a rock into the lake.
"Maybe you could throw us?"
"We're not separating. It's too dangerous."
There's a sickening feeling in Goku's gut. "D'you think Gohan will be okay with all this stuff goin' on around here? If he's here, I mean."
There's a deep breath. "I hope so."
"Gohan is smart even without the influence of Mori," Piccolo assures. "I'm sure he is manoeuvring himself intelligently. If anything, I'm more concerned about you."
"Eh! You're the one who nearly pooped himself when a bird came outta' the trees."
"And what was that display back at the tavern? You nearly got us… us – I don't know what – by that Ghost!"
"It was hurting peo—oomf!"
Rixas catches him by the arm before he falls completely. "Goku, I told you to follow my steps exactly."
Stumbling back, Goku brings his torch down. He'd just tripped over something.
"What's that?" Rixas lowers his torch, too. "It's…"
He wipes a layer of dirt away. Upon being brushed off, small rocks crunch against something hard before falling to the forest floor.
It's a hatch.
What Goku had tripped over had in-fact been a handle.
"So spooky," he mutters, leaning down for a better look. When he pulls the handle, the wood obediently flips up. Infinity stares back. "Are we checking it out?"
"You just want to jump into a hole in the ground, Son? Seriously?"
"Well, we're stuck anyway. Maybe this is the way." What other choice do they have? "Rixas, what do you say?"
"I say that I literally hate all of this. I want to go back to Earth and watch the television."
"Then that's it. I'm going first!"
A green hand makes for him. "Hey, wait a damn second! What the hell are you doing? Get out of there! Anything could be—" The words die. Piccolo freezes.
Goku feels a bit bad and starts to pull back out of the hatch. "Hey, I was just kidding. I wasn't gonna' go without your guys'… Piccolo? What's up?"
Immediately, nausea rises from his stomach.
He hears it. Whispering.
"Get in!" Piccolo then snaps. "Go!"
The sound grows louder. The harsh vibrations of multiple people talking at once make the ground tingle. There's a chorus of white noise.
Rixas is even less tolerant. He pushes Goku down and then jumps in. Piccolo follows, pulling the hatch closed.
And together, they fall into the pits of the unknown.
Endless chattering above grows fainter, Luxun's Ghost becomes distant and the spiralling darkness seems to absorb all into greedy obscurity, including Goku himself. Goku doesn't catch his fall. Upon hitting the bottom, he tumbles endlessly, skidding along the dirt and dust and alongside various things that rattle along with him. Somehow, he manages to keep his torch upright. The fire hisses angrily as he stands.
Where is this place?
He swings the torch left and then right. Tea-stained and rough-edged walls face back. Goku runs his fingers along the stony exterior. The flame's glow illuminates nearly the entire space. It's so small; a square, unassuming room.
Rixas lands next, and then Piccolo, both doing so far more gracefully than he'd been able to.
"That thing is awful," Rixas complains. "Where's it forced us to?"
"I dunno'."
"What's the dragon radar say?"
Goku wants to laugh upon looking at that pesky dot. "Straight ahead."
Is there even a straight ahead down here? Goku looks up from the shaft they fell through. If they're enclosed then they'll have no choice but to fly upwards. But then the Ghost would sense it…
Piccolo is exploring their surroundings. His torch wafts around, lighting up the same section Goku'd just been looking at. The dense forest's reach has released them, and as such they've found themselves somewhere dusty with air most sour. They're inside now, maybe even below that horrid lake. Is that where the Ghost resides? Had they stumbled across something they shouldn't have?
"If the Ghost gets us, what happens?" Goku wonders aloud.
"Don't think about it," Rixas says, "It's not worth it."
"Goku, Rixas, this way," Piccolo calls to them, "There's a passage."
It's a thin corridor, just about wide enough for Goku to shimmy through. He has to walk sideways, turning his head against the sharp rockery. Rixas, who's a bit bulkier, struggles but just about gets through. Piccolo is awaiting them on the other side. The shimmering of orange against green skin highlights an expression most grim.
"What is it?" Goku asks.
Piccolo raises his torch. Goku follows suit, as does Rixas.
Oh.
A swill of discomfort knocks him.
I've not seen anything like this before.
All around them, reaching the pinnacle of an arched roof, stacks of skulls face out, layered thickly upon one another with orderly dedication. It's not just skulls. Bones interweave through the display. That's what it is; a display. Goku swerves his torch and sees how rows of these skulls and bones surround the room almost in a systematic manner.
"A charnel house," Piccolo mutters, coming to stand beside Goku. The length of the room is recognized. A thin line splits Piccolo's face. "We do have these on Earth but I've never actually… seen one…"
It's gross. "Why would anyone do this?"
"…Momento Mori," Rixas says lowly. He smirks in spite of what they're looking at. "How fitting, wouldn't you say?"
Goku doesn't understand. "Ugh... They're treating these people like they're art projects."
There's a laugh. "That's exactly something Mori would say, so let me tell you what I'd tell him." Gold sparkles humouredly amidst the bones. "These people here see this as an honour. Back there in the hamlet, whilst they don't want to be consumed by the Ghost, they won't speak ill of it. That's because of their unwavering loyalty to their beliefs, to their god. To be a part of a charnel is to be a part of god's house itself. This is the closest they'll ever be to Lord Luxun. Don't forget that these people won't go to Otherworld. They're not in the same network as us. When they bite it, that's it. Their soul… Well… It's as I said outside…"
"Mortal souls are just spiritual energy blobs come to life," Rixas had said, "That energy can be made into manna."
It's horrible.
"Don't look too put out, Goku. They'd wanted this."
"They're brainwashed," Piccolo says, "They don't know what they want."
Goku agrees. His brows press together as he scours over each of these poor victims. "You guys have just left them here with this Ghost. It's… It's doing this and despite knowing, you guys have done nothing about it. I thought gods and kais were supposed to watch out for this kinda' stuff. I thought that—"
"Now, you definitely sound like Mori." There's no more play to his tone. "We cannot interfere with every whim. These people want to remain segregated and we must respect their decision of independence from the divine reign."
"Even if it's killing them?" There's another snort of amusement. This time, it unexpectedly comes from Piccolo. "What is it? What's funny?"
"We could have the same argument about ki. It's endangering people, costing lives, and yet, you want to defend that when you're so against this?" Piccolo's humour etches away into neutrality. His flame lowers. "You can't defend one and then not the other. You're either for freedom of choice or not, Goku."
It's not the same!
…Is it?
Rixas pats Goku on the shoulder. "Who are we to control free will? Even I don't have that jurisdiction. You mortals should craft your own existence otherwise we'll all just be the same flavour of bland, controlled puppets."
Goku feels his chest tighten. "So just 'cause you're a god you don't feel like you should step in to help people? You're scared to tell mortals what to do, right?"
The hand slips away. Rixas sets his jaw. He looks hurt. "Your lack of nuance is astounding. No wonder Mori came back with simpleton ideals."
"You mean that he wants to help people? He's not doing it the right way but at least he's trying. Gohan has always cared about innocent people! You're not being sympathetic at all." Goku huffs. "It's like with Yardrat. You don't care at all about what you did there. Was it because Quell'd ordered it? It's like you see us as an endangered species you're too scared to touch without being told what to do."
"Oh, sweetie, I'm not afraid to knock some mortal heads together. I don't need an invitation," Rixas spits. "As for Mori, don't forget that self-indulgent sympathy of his didn't stop him from butchering the kais." Goku goes to speak but Rixas raises a hand. "Also, FYI, I wasn't alone on Yardrat. Your pious princess didn't try to stop me from doing my job despite the blubbering and puppy-dog eyes."
"So he cared—"
"And look what that's doing to him now—"
"Knock it off," Piccolo growls, "We're in agreement about ki so let's just get on with this. Come on. I don't want to look at this a moment longer."
Rixas' gaze is ice. The radiance of his eyes is so sharp that it takes Goku back to their fight back on Earth, before any of this.
"I'm not some working dog for my brother," he says, harsh, "We may be gods but we're people too. Don't think I'm without feeling on what I have to do."
Footsteps lead away. Boots tap against stone.
Goku does feel a little bad at the accusation.
They walk in silence once more. Piccolo stands in the middle as Goku brings up the rear, making their way along the charnel house. Empty eye sockets spectate as the journey continues, unseeing of the flashing from the dragon radar.
Rixas isn't a bad person at all. Goku knows that. It's just…
Well, looking around here, it's hard not to get frustrated with the lack of action by either the kais or the gods. Suffering is prevalent.
Goku watches Piccolo's turban bob with each footstep, and he can't help but wonder what's going through that head of his. He'd been just as put off with this place as Goku'd been, yet he's not really said his opinion on the matter other than the double standard of it.
Goku sighs.
Piccolo is good at considering both sides.
On the other hand, Rixas had compared Gohan and Goku jut now. It shouldn't be a surprise. Yet, it is a bit, just because of everything that's happened. So it turns out, Gohan really is a chip off the old block.
I see. You care so much that you've gone to one extreme…
At least Goku can say that he understands his son a bit better now. There must have been so much frustration for him. To exist in a universe with such little compassion; it must have been eating him up alive. Out of everyone Goku's ever known, Gohan is – was – the softest of heart. His heightened empathy had been both his strength and his weakness, against Frieza, Cell, Buu; it'd been that one defining trait that'd fuelled his strength. Gohan can conquer anything with his… well, his love. That's his power.
Even now, that's not changed.
Goku smiles, sad.
He envisions his son; back facing him, with the Z Sword firmly in hand and cloak swaying behind. It's the stance of a hero, a warrior; a man who will get things done. ANd then, Golden eyes would gaze over the shoulder, looking directly at him and burning with the same frost Rixas'd just turned on him.
Talk to me, please, Gohan…
Some horrible part of him really does wish Gohan here, in the hellhole, with them.
He stops a second, rubbing a hand across his eyes. What an awful thing to think. As much as he wants to see Gohan, there's no way he'd even wish his worst enemy here. It sucks. There's a big, scary ghost. The people are crazy.
Beep!
"Eh?"
The dragon ball's dot shifts rightwards on the radar.
"Oh, guys, we need to turn ri—guys?"
The torch flies up, left and then right. Goku spins. The fire waltzes with him.
"Piccolo? Rixas?"
The hall is empty. Not even the skulls have followed him here.
"Piccolo?" Goku shouts out, loud this time, "Piccolo?! Rixas!"
An echo chases after itself. Goku's hears the desperation in his own voice, and then the overlapping beats of his footsteps ever increasing in speed. This isn't good. Rixas had specifically said not to get separated, and not only that, they don't know where the dragon ball is. They might have gone the wrong way. Already, they've faced multiple forks in the road.
Goku runs along the stone. It's impossible for them to have gotten too far away. So why can't he see them? Where are they? He'd been right behind them!
What would happen if they get stuck, or lost?
"Rixas!" he hollers, "RIXAS!"
Silence returns the call, broken only by faint dripping in the wayward distance. All beyond the torch's light remains lost to mystery. After another fifteen minutes or so of looking, aimless, his legs halt by themselves. His chest depletes.
Glancing around, Goku can tell that he's no longer in that charnel place. This looks like a cave. The arching roof is tighter. A smell of mildew and stagnation differentiates it very much so from anywhere yet travelled.
He's lost.
"Crap," Goku mumbles. He hits the dragon radar against his head, over and over. Crap, crap, crap… Now what?
The dragon radar beeps back. Turn right, it tells him.
But without Piccolo and Rixas?
What choice do I have?
The nearby dripping sounds so close now. Maybe he's near a way out, somewhere with a real lake or river. As he listens to the water, there's a harsh splash. Movement.
Goku whisks the torch around, sudden.
Again.
…Nothing.
He groans. This place is messing with him.
But then, just as he's about to take his next step…
That terrible noise… Goku can hear it. Like a waterfall of hushing voices it crashes down, chilling him. He hears it echoing down the chamber; voices climbing over one another in a bid to be heard. From the left side, he hears it, and then again from the right.
God. It's looking.
Goku takes off again. Should he just fly? It'd be faster.
Or would that thing be able to track me faster?
It's difficult to pick up speed down here because of all the harsh bends and crevices. Goku has to crawl through one particularly thin section of wall, and then barrel over another. Still, however, the Ghost trudges on, definitely behind, with its war cry, with its haunting song.
The voices are shouting now. Some are screaming.
If Goku dies here will he be like the skulls back in the charnel house? Will they make an art structure out of his bones?
Being eaten by that thing wouldn't even be death. It'd been everything. His soul would be—
Damn!
He thinks of his loved ones. His wife, his sons, his friends; no, that thing can't get him. He's not going down.
Not like this.
Yet, he trips.
Goku skids along the floor and then into the cave wall at full speed. The rock rattles, the cave groans, the voices beyond, of course, are jubilant. They're hungry. He can feel that about them now; their rampant famine. They're so close. The Ghost's breath is upon him. No! Goku barely has time to sit up and grab his torch before he registers what's happening. The fire drags a wave of light across the alcove and he sees that he's not alone.
He's also not the only one to grab the torch.
Dark eyes – almost black – glower down at him.
Hah?!
Then, a hand covers the flame. It's snuffed, sending them both into undying darkness. That same hand so quickly presses against Goku's mouth. He can taste the soot from the palm pushing against him; it's difficult not to splutter as he's shoved lower into the cave's nook.
The screaming whispers approach seconds following. A chill in the air welcomes them; blustery, icy.
Goku stills.
His heart is drumming against his ribs. Why aren't they running? That thing is here. They shouldn't just sit like ducks. Maybe if they make a break for it then they can put some distance between them and the Ghost. Raising his head, he tries to way up their chances. God. He can't see anything. His vision is blocked from the body above. When he does shuffle to try to glance a peak, the hand moves up from his mouth to his eyes.
Lips move beside his ear, breathing the quietest sentence he's ever heard. It might as well have been mouthed.
"Stay down, Dad."
He does, if only because it'd been him to ask.
Goku slowly moves a hand up and grasps at Gohan's arm.
Waiting this out goes against his nature. Still, his eyes close.
I trust you.
The whispers – the uproar, rather – loiter, circling, sampling the air around. Its hollow ricochet throughout the cave is so ravenously loud that it's all that fills Goku's head. Throbbing, twitching, aching; his skull feels ready to burst. Impossibly, his grip tightens on Gohan's arm. He wants to turn Super Saiyan and blow this thing to cinders.
Instead, he practices a deep albeit silent breath.
Gohan is so still that he might as well not even be there. Perhaps Goku had imagined him. Quite possibly Goku has already bitten it and Gohan's already on his way to making his wish to get rid of ki.
Ice crawls along Goku's arm. His fingers grow numb. He's in the Ghost's grip.
The breath of a snowstorm is whipping out from behind Gohan, nails snatching upwards. It wants Goku. It wants to consume him.
Just as Goku goes to move on instinct, Gohan's grasp doesn't allow for it.
Time seems to halt.
And then…
The whispers stop wailing.
Those nails draw back, stealing away the snow.
It's a decreasing gradient of shrill cries, lessening with each drawn out second. The air in Goku's lungs torturously leaves him, disciplined in controlled shudders but bated and erratic a moment next. He hadn't realized he'd been holding it back. Gohan, too, allows for a single torrent of breath. When the whispering completely fades into the background, Gohan doesn't immediately move. He holds Goku there for at least a minute longer.
"I think it's okay now," Goku says, soft.
Gohan slowly but surely moves back.
Movement; a rustle of fabric keeps Goku from imagining that it was all in his head. He can't see a thing. His torch is dead.
"Gohan," he calls out, still low, just in case, "You—"
"The fire attracts it," Gohan interrupts, voice sharp but equally discreet, "As does shouting and running around like someone with a death wish."
"Thank you," Goku says after a beat, "For saving me. I thought I was a goner back there."
"Don't thank me. Here, let's call it a trade."
Trade?
There's a whoosh in the air, the sound of a spinning baton. Warmth radiates along Goku's cheeks first, and then his frozen hands when the tell-tale orange of fire births from nothing. Gohan appears on the other side of a freshly lit torch, expression more flat than Goku's ever seen yet before. The torch is held out in offering.
"Where'd you get this?" Goku asks. "The fire is special, right?"
Gohan doesn't say anything. The torch pointedly wobbles in his hand.
"Did you make it? Rixas says you can manifest things with ki. Oh! But won't that attract the Ghost back this way?"
"The benefits of clean ki offer more than just the power it serves me," Gohan says simply, "The amalgamation won't return. Take it before I drop it."
Goku does, stumbling when the torch nearly tumbles to the floor.
"Follow the sound of water and it'll lead you to a stream and the inn that overlooks it." Gohan turns a shoulder, fazing into the black, his dark eyes similarly – wait, dark?
"Hold up, what happened to your eyes? I thought… They're— Gohan!" Goku follows after his son, jogging in order to keep up with long, dignified steps. "Gohan, wait – don't go, wait just a second! Look, I'm sorry! I'm really sorry about Roarg and –"
Goku spins when the fist curls into his cheek. He's sent to the floor. The torch rolls along, clattering.
"Don't talk about her. You haven't the right."
"I know what I did was wrong. I know you're angry with me. Please just… Whatever's happened, whatever you've done, I'm your father, I don't care—"
"I'm not angry with you."
He nearly slips on the wet rockery as he stands. "You're… not?"
"No."
"Then—"
"I'm done with you."
"What?"
Gohan stops mid-step, standing tall. He's a good few inches taller than Goku now.
"Earth is not my responsibility anymore. You wanted to be the Protector then so be it. Be its saviour and watch over it as is your duty. Should you want to align with the Kai then be it on Earth's head. I have no obligation to the planet, or to you."
The aloof tone fills him with far more dread than the Ghost ever did. "Earth is your home," Goku stresses. "Think of your family, your mother."
"Come now. You must have heard the truth by this point, what with you palling around with Rixas. Don't you know? It so turns out that I don't much have a need for parents these days, or Earth," Gohan smoothly returns, "I have other commitments, I'm afraid."
Never has Gohan spoken to him like this. The disrespect is—
"G-Gohan!"
"I'd tried to help you as much I could but, alas, no… Goku Son knew better, didn't he?"
"If you'd just told me from the start then—"
"Then you would have assisted me with Revelation? Don't make me laugh." Gohan hums. "No, don't worry. I have all the help I need, thank you. You can tell Rixas as much when you stumble across him."
"Don't turn your back on me, Gohan!"
When Goku grabs him, there's the realization that Rixas had indeed been correct back in the Room of Spirit and Time. Gohan's fast, inexplicably so. The speed of the throw puts Rixas' to shame and Goku's on his back faster than he'd been able to blink. His chest rattles out a cough.
It doesn't put him out of commission however. Before Gohan's able to move away, Goku kicks a leg out in the aim of tripping him.
It doesn't exactly go to plan.
There's a crunch when, instead of falling, Gohan stomps down his foot atop Goku's own. Agony catapults upwards. Goku contains a muffled cry, throwing his head left.
"Arghhh!"
"How disappointing," Gohan goads.
Goads.
Goku pulls back, bringing in his injured (and possibly broken) foot before standing on wobbly footing. He steadies his hold despite the sharp ache, leaning into his natural stance.
As a result, Gohan just seems to study him, saying nothing at all. The way his dark eyes slowly journey over Goku's form makes Goku realize that Gohan is putting some pieces together.
"I see."
"Gohan, I don't wanna' do this. Let's—" Goku releases the hold, dropping his arms, "—stop. We don't want to attract the Ghost back and we—"
It turns out that lowering his guard hadn't been the brightest move. A flash of steel in the firelight flies true, hissing and sending Goku back onto his bad foot. Before he's able to twist back around, Gohan's already spiralled himself into a roundhouse kick.
He doesn't even recognize blacking out with how dark it is.
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Apologies for the delay. I'm back after an unplanned break. Life does that, y'know? Bad news is that I had to split this chapter. The good news is that Luxun's Domain II is finished aside from it needing to be beta'd. I was thinking of releasing it in a week's time just for pacing's sake, but I'll release it early if you hook me up to 370 on that review meter. That's right. Bribary. That's who I am now. Drop me a review to let me know you're still alive after my eternity long rest.
But worry less. I don't think I'll have another long break for a while. I'm actually working on Chapter 43 right now so I'm feeling optimistic for this month. But, man, this Luxun Domain part of the story drained me, hence why it's taken as long as it has. The lore is an ass biter, that's for sure, so thank God for my beta, Kagari-Asuha.
As always, thanks for all the lovely reviews. And to the guest who asked if the Gods of Revelation exist in other universes; no, they don't. But I like to imagine that each universe has their own quirky differences. One might have the Divine Princess of Pancakes Principles for all I know.
Alas, I'll see you on the next one.
Are you ready to see true darkness?
