The Horse with No Name


How the gentle wind
Beckons through the leaves
As autumn colours fall
Dancing in a swirl
Of golden memories
The loveliest lies of all

Into the Unknown – The Blasting Company


Chapter Forty-Two

Luxun's Domain II


Goku chokes.

The initial intake of breath has him spluttering. He hacks up, spit dribbling over his chin as dusty cave residue spills out of him. Goku coughs until there is little left in his lungs.

Crap.

What time is it? How long has he been here?

Everything is still so dark.

His hands reach out, grabbing nothing, and then trailing along the rough walls. The space he's in is enclosed, it's tiny, really, as though someone had stuffed him into a hidey-hole and slapped a boulder on the top as a lid.

Gohan's face comes to mind.

That's… probably exactly what'd happened.

Goku pushes the boulder and sees the lit torch leaning against the wall, exactly as Gohan must have left it.

That kid… Goku groans and rubs the lump that's formed at the back of his head. And here Goku thought that Goten was the difficult one. He can't help but breathe out a sound of amusement. If he doesn't laugh, he'll cry…which is what he nearly does when he feels the absence of a particular device from his obi. Goku frantically pats down his clothes and then the floor. The torch's light scours along the dirt and rubble.

And still, nothing.

It's gone.

Gohan… must have taken it.

The dragon radar…

Goku groans and thumps the ground. "Damn it!"

How'd he known? Goku hadn't had it out when the Ghost came for him; he'd not even alluded to it – had it just been a wild guess? Really, he just can't imagine Gohan frisking him by chance.

Or maybe… Goku recalls the few times he thought he'd heard noises behind them. Perhaps, Gohan had been tailing them all along, maybe since before they'd even entered the forest. It's not unlikely, and it'd also explain how he'd come to help Goku in the nick of time, too. Gohan must have been waiting for the right moment from the beginning… which, of course, had come along with the Ghost's attack.

"Don't thank me. Here, let's call it a trade," he'd said.

What a punk! He must have stolen it right at the start!

That…! That...

God, the others are going to kill him.

Goku groans, standing. His foot hurts pretty badly. Sure, he can walk on it with the trusty help of adrenaline, but there can be no more running in his plans, not until he gets some Amber Salve from Rixas should he be carrying any.

He drags himself for what feels like an eternity, following the dripping sound to the steam as Gohan had suggested he do. First, he needs to get to the stream and then the inn. If, by chance, the people at this mysterious inn have managed to come across Rixas and Piccolo then that's great. If not, well, at least he gets to escape this awful dungeon.

Goku finds where the trickling is coming from soon enough; it's a small body of water that doesn't smell entirely of mould. It's fresh, leaking from cracks in the wall. The source must be nearby.

And sure enough, it is.

After a further five minutes, Goku finds a nemesis in a hanging ladder in which must climb in order to reach it. He drags his throbbing foot up to the top to find an open hatch. Someone's definitely been here before him. Whether that had been Gohan or Rixas and Piccolo, Goku has no idea.

Pulling himself out and onto the grassy top, he finds that it's not pitch black. Goku sees the stream and even the lake it'd carved a path away from, grey under the light of several hanging lamps. Wires holding these lamps strew across the stream, linking up to a crooked, rickety house that must be the aforementioned inn.

Before he's even able to reach the door, it opens. A woman – one of the locals – stands there with her hazy eyes widened in excitement. "Oh!" She cries, before then grabbing under Goku's arm and dragging him inside. Too shocked to do anything else, Goku allows himself to be pulled into the rustic home.

"I didn't think you would come," she continues, very little accent present, "Come in, please. Come. Let's get you by the fire."

"I'm sorry? Did someone say—? Oh, er, thank you."

Goku's thrust into a plush chair, and a subsequent hot drink is forced upon him. The fire opposite ascends high into the smoke chamber of the chimney, and around him are deep reds and blues; rich colours that make Goku feel all the more sleepy. He's absently reminded of Fire Mountain.

"Show me your band, first. I can't allow red-bands in unfortunately, as is Domain rules."

Goku shows her his green one and she smiles.

"Then, have a biscuit," she insists, her pale hand stuffing at least five of them into his grubby palm. "You'll feel much better after you've eaten, I do promise."

Goku… does. The biscuit is extraordinarily sweet. Immediately, he perks up, the cold from the cave drains from out of him. It's wonderful.

"Hey, thanks, but uh, not to say that I don't appreciate all this… It's just, why are you being so kind?"

Goku remembers the earlier anxiety in the town, how the people there'd been cautious of him and the others. This woman doesn't even blink at him.

"The nice young man earlier said you'd be stopping by. I hadn't originally believed him when he said you'd be coming up from the crypt, but here you are! You must have had a fright, getting lost like that."

"Young man?"

"Lovely, shiny thing. Definitely a foreigner but he had no band whatsoever. 'Looked a little like you, I'd say. A relative?" She gasps. "I'm sorry! That's racist of me, isn't it? I should know better with just how many of you visitors come through my doors."

No band…?

"Actually I, um, think it might have been my son. Hair like mine, right? Shorter, spiky and goes like this?" When she affirms with a nod, Goku leans forward. "Ah! When was he here? Which way did he go? I need—!"

She stuffs another biscuit into his mouth. "You need to rest up, that's what you need to do. I'll have my son find you something for your foot. He doesn't speak a word of Common so try and be patient with him."

"Wait. Has anyone else come by? A green guy, maybe? Or how about a blonde man with… er, yellow eyes."

"I am afraid not."

Figures.

Her son, a lumpy teenager, does come by. He bears the gift of a conspicuous looking tonic bottle. Goku's dubious about drinking it. When he thinks that he might as well give it a go, the boy stops him in a panic before gesturing animatedly to his own foot. So it turns out, it's much like Rixas' salve. This ointment doesn't reek nearly as bad however; sweet-smelling liquid drizzles onto the swelling of the injury, warming it. Goku bets it's not a break, like initially thought, perhaps a sprain if he's lucky, and a tear in the muscle if not.

"So, did you come during this waning gibbous Black Moon?" asks the woman when she returns to him, blanket in hand.

"That's not for me, is it?"

"Well, yes. Even with the fire, it gets cold in here."

"Oh, hey, look, I really appreciate your hospitality but I can't hang about. I need to go out and find my son, so—"

"If it's penny you're worried about then don't—"

"No, no! It's just really important that I find him before the waning moon thingy ends. So if you could just point me in his direction then I can get on my way."

Mousy brows disappear beneath strands of thinned hair. "The Ghost is prowling so hungrily as of recent. Do you really want to travel without guardsmen? To do so in the sacred grounds is especially dangerous, and with talks of the new Sun… Tsk, I don't know anything more foolhardy. I'd said as much to your boy, too. I assure you that you have plenty of time before the waning gibbous cycle comes to an end."

Goku recalls that little girl mentioning a new Sun, too. "This new Sun… is it like the Black Moon?"

The woman doesn't say anything for a long time. She looks at Goku and then around the room as though ears might grow from out the walls. The door is swiftly closed.

"It's our new hope," she finally reveals, barely above a whisper.

He doesn't need to ask from what. Having met the Ghost, truly, Goku understands what these people need to hope for.

"Rumours from the guardsmen talk of a mystical power here in the domain, bright like what the stories say of the stars. It's said to harness…" She leans in, voice even lower now, "Divine might." There's a blatant cough. "Anyway, I'm sure you've seen stars before. You seem the type."

Divine…? Maybe…

"The dragon ball?"

"Well, whatever it is, it has the Ghost even more active than usual. Lord Luxun must be yearning for the Sun's spiritual essence, which makes you even more irrational for wandering the crypt. Whatever were you thinking?"

"Er…"

She eyeballs him. "You were not grave digging, I hope."

"What? N-No way! That's awful! Why would I do that?"

"Why do any of them?" Her lips pucker. "They'll never find Lord Luxun's bones. There's no worth in even trying…"

"People… do that?"

"Well, you know how the legend goes so there's no surprise, is there? Some…" the woman considers her next words carefully, "Heretics take all that mumbo jumbo very seriously, especially after they lose one of their own. Desperation can drive people to do senseless things."

"But what can you do with some old bones?"

"Oh, you're very green, aren't you? Just… I thought, with speaking with your son, well, anyway… If you're so eager to get back on the road, then I suppose I can share my knowledge with a well-meaning foreigner. Rarer and rarer do I see you lot, and so shiny you all are." There's a moment of admiration for Goku's skin, as though she might just jump over and rip it off for herself. Her gaze returns from the distance travelled and back to him. There's an attempt at a smile. "My daughter was chosen by the Ghost…"

"O-Oh, I'm sorry about that."

"Me too."

Goku doesn't realize until later the gravity of what she'd just said. For now, he just looks away, awkward.

"The roots of a dead tree still hold water," the woman eventually says, "The gardener must ply the roots before they are truly free of the rotten trunk. With that, then they are able to use the soil. Do you understand?"

"Um, no. Are you saying that Luxun was a tree?"

There's a pause, and then a giggle. "You are very green indeed. I do hope the Ghost spares you because we really could do with laughing more here."

Goku plies himself from the inn shortly thereafter.

He takes his torch – the one Gohan'd made for him earlier – and a bag full of those delicious biscuits. Also weighing him down is a canister of water and a small bottle of ointment, they now hang from his obi, courtesy of the kind woman and son running the inn who'd refused to take no for an answer. With kind smiles, they'd waved Goku off as he traversed into the fade of black.

So it turns out, generous people are everywhere, even in places as awful as this.

He smiles despite the circumstances, which run bleak – verging hopeless really, considering his chances of ever running into Rixas and Piccolo again are low.

"Your best chance is the Sanctum north of here," the inn woman had told him just before he'd left, "It's heavily guarded so do be careful. If you think your son is looking for the new Sun then that's where he'll be heading, perhaps your friends too should they know of the divinity. Keep along the road. You'll know the Sanctum for what it is once you see it; it's humming with candlelight."

Goku doesn't need a dragon radar anymore. So long as he's able to reach this Sanctum place then he'll find something or perhaps someone of interest. As instructed, he follows the road northwards, keeping his steps light and his ears peeled. Any hint of a whisper has him halt and press against nearby trees. He keeps low and out of sight and so his journey is left undisturbed for the most part, if not counting the peering eyes of animals beyond the foliage.

After a time, he realizes that he's come closer to some sort of civilization. Spotted torches potter about in the distance. There's the hope that it could be Piccolo and Rixas, yet as he jogs closer, that faith is smothered; for in the shadows, the apprehensive faces of a group of locals stare back. A cage-face that's with them makes no hesitation in approaching Goku and twisting his arm, bringing the green band into full focus.

Poor Rixas must be having some trouble.

Goku's released with utmost vehemence. Something tells him that he shouldn't ask for directions from here. The cage-faces probably wouldn't like the idea of him going to some place fancy enough to be called a Sanctum. As he goes, mothers pull small grey-faced children out of his way, eyeing him as though he might jump and gobble them up at any given second.

It's weird, he thinks as he goes. Looking up at the sky, he can't see any moon at all. Outside Luxun's Domain, he'd been able to see it and its eclipse-like visage, yet here it's just black. Everything is black. Don't the locals get sick of it? No wonder so many are the way they are. Other than just missing the sun and its warmth, Goku would do anything to have a gauge on the time of day. He desperately wants to know how long he's got left.

Forward he goes, however.

The biscuits are about half-way consumed by the time he comes to the end of the forest-dense road, and he finishes his water by the time he reaches yet another stream. He considers refilling the canister but ultimately against it. This place is creepy as hell. He'd probably catch something. As he mulls this, he hears screaming in the far distance.

His torch lilts, apprehensive.

If this was any other time and place, he'd be flying over there already. Goku recalls Rixas' hold on him in the pub, and then Gohan's back in the cave. Every intuition instructs for him to do one thing and everyone else tells him to do another.

She screams again. Goku's teeth grits.

The whispers can't be heard from this distance, but he can remember them. He can still feel the chilling touch.

Her next scream is her last.

His head bows. He feels like a failure.

"I'm sorry…"

In his mind's eye, Rixas approves, Piccolo too. Goku knows that there was nothing he could do but it still hurts to just allow someone to fall victim like that. Maybe after all this is done, Goku can help the people here. No one should have to suffer like this. Everyone deserves sunlight, for goodness sake.

For a while, he doesn't hear from the Ghost or its victims again.

At least that's something.

And finally, his eternal hike is rewarded.

When a tall, ornate building, one glowing from the ominous orange of candlelight, comes into view, Goku is able to breathe a sigh of relief. This is the place the inn lady must be talking about; with it being far brighter than anywhere Goku's visited thus far. Unfortunately, the towering build doesn't stand alone. There's an adjourning small, squared hut at its base, attaching to a lowering gate of some kind. It looks like a guard's post.

Crap. Not more cage-faces…

Not only that, the wall circling the Sanctum is completely visible. Torches line the stone and wood in a tight pattern. It'll be hard to climb the wall without being seen – maybe he could jump?

As he looks for the nearest tree to ascend, he realizes that he's not alone.

"Goku! GOKU!"

He whips around. It's music to his ears.

"Piccolo!" he cries out, so impossibly thankful to see a familiar face. Piccolo is equally as relieved, jogging up to him with a torch of his own. "Oh man, it's great to see you."

"Rixas is hurt," he says instantly. Goku sobers and Piccolo signals over to what Goku'd first believed to be a guarding post. "This way."

It is a guarding post. There are just no guards.

"They were gone by time we got here. I thought maybe you'd… anyway..." Piccolo leads them into the square building, past cluttered desks and an emptied selection of shelves that looked to have once held weapons.

Goku can't stop that sinking feeling in his stomach. Gohan… Are you already inside?

Rixas is revealed when they turn a corner. He's sprawled out over the lower bed in a set of bunk beds, eyes pressed together tightly, knotted almost. Goku lowers his torch to see a fresh sheen of sweat beading atop his forehead.

"The Ghost," Piccolo mumbles, "It almost got me until this… this idiot… he…"

"It didn't consume him?"

Rixas breathes, ragged. His head tosses from left to right, speckles of sweat flying sporadically. It looks like he's suffering a pretty bad fever. Goku lowers a hand against the clammy mop of hair.

"How long has he been like this?" Goku questions, feeling his hand turn to fire. It's definitely a fever.

"At least an hour. He'd been convulsing before, screaming too, in Lanit-Tongue so I haven't a clue to what he was saying."

Maybe it affects gods differently.

Rixas groans, moving away from Goku's hand and not registering him at all.

"Gohan took the dragon radar," he then discloses.

"What?! You saw Gohan?!"

"Yeah. He's ahead of me."

Piccolo growls, rubbing a hand along his face. "Then he's probably already inside. I thought it might have been you making that racket. The dragon ball is somewhere in there."

"I know. It's the new—"

"The new Sun, yes, we were told the same thing after Rixas… extracted some information from the guardsmen we stumbled across." Piccolo sighs, sitting down on the wobbly chair aside Rixas' bed. "What happened to you? You were right behind us."

"I don't know. I must've taken a wrong turn and then the Ghost found me. If not for Gohan then I'd probably be dead. He just… I don't know, blocked that thing away."

"So he was following us," Piccolo snorts, "Figures. I thought he might have been." There's a moment of contemplation, thinned eyes scan over Rixas' writhing figure under the sheets. "The Ghost probably can't consume gods, that's my takeaway. Rixas' incident had been but an accident when that thing had tried to swallow me."

"Did you see it?"

"No, Rixas told me to close my eyes."

"Gohan said the same thing." Goku can still feel the chill of the Ghost, and the similarly rapid beat of his son's chest against his own. "This place is dangerous, huh?"

"We need to get the ball and get out. It's just… leaving him."

Rixas twitches, murmuring something foreign.

"We're not leaving him," Goku cements.

"I never said we would," Piccolo snaps back. "It's just, someone's got to watch over him."

"Then stay here. I'll go."

"No," he returns, "I'm going. If Gohan is in there then I want to speak to him myself."

It catches Goku off-guard, specifically the intensity of it. And besides, in all due respect, what can Piccolo say to Gohan that Goku hasn't, or can't? "Gohan's pretty intent on Revelation," he emphasises, "Think you can handle a one-on-one fight if it comes down to it?"

"Do you? Don't think I didn't notice that bruise on your face. You're hardly a match against him considering you let him swipe the radar."

"He caught me off-guard. Trust me; I've got a trick or two. I just gave him the benefit of the doubt."

"That was stupid."

Goku prickles. "Eh. Well, what do you want to say to him? He wasn't in the best sort'a listening mood when I last saw him."

"It's nothing to do with you."

"Unless you're able to go in and wrestle that ball from outta' his hands then it should be me to go in there."

"He's smarter than you—"

"Well, he's stronger than you, by a lot—"

"Don't think that just because—"

There's a groan beside them. Both of them flinch, stilling when a gravelly voice sounds. "Oh my God," it caws, strained, "Shut up."

"Rixas!" Goku is at his side in an instant. "Are you okay? You have a fe—"

"Both of you; just… go."

"We can't leave you," Piccolo insists, "If anyone finds you then you can't defend yourself."

"I– I'll catch up," he says, weak, very weak actually. When he tries to pull himself up, sweat pours from his hairline. "S-Shit, that thing got me good. D-Don't look at me like that. I'm fine. I will be, just…"

"What did it do to you? I felt it wanting to devour me, like it was pulling apart my soul itself. Then you, like an idiot, jumped in and—"

"I'm a ch-champion of justice," Rixas breathes out, pleased. "Autographs at the end of the tour, please."

Piccolo looks about ready to hit him back into a lack of consciousness.

"I ran into Gohan," Goku informs, "He got the radar."

"Then go. What are you waiting for? Without his ki, you should be able to hold your own at least for a while until—"

"He used ki."

"A-Ah?"

"He materialized a torch for me, saying that it'd been clean or somethin'."

Rixas' eyes close and he sinks ever more into the pillow. "Shit."

Piccolo beats Goku to it. "What's clean ki? Is it dangerous?"

"It's a technique for r-really potent – look, there's a time for this and this ain't it. Just… go 'n be careful."

"No way," Piccolo bites back, "You said we go together."

"Rixas, if someone finds you like this then you won't even be able to protect yourself," Goku tries to rationalize. Though, a horrible part of him wants Rixas to argue back, to tell him to go anyway because Piccolo is being stubborn and this fight will go on forever if not.

Thankfully, Rixas does as hoped for. He wheezes out a cough, and then turns to them, the gold in his eyes shimmering, though not as brightly as earlier.

"I can handle a couple of backwater, senseless mortals. Tch, I-I'm not that far gone. I'll catch you up when my body stops deciding to be crippled."

"What did it do to you? …Rixas?"

Rixas groans. "Damn it! Go before that idiot brother of mine gets the ball!" When they don't immediately move, there's another growl. "Why the hell are you both still here? Go!"

The cover is pulled over his head, and Goku takes that as the final sign that there's really no point in dallying. "C'mon, Piccolo," he says. "We'll be waiting for you on the other side, okay, Rixas? Here, I'll leave the rest of these biscuits on this table. The lady at the inn gave them to me and I felt loads better after eating. Some ointment, too."

"Mm."

Goku and Piccolo give a last look back to the guard's station once they leave. Piccolo especially looks unsure about leaving him – he must feel guilty, considering Rixas had taken the hit for him.

"You'd be dead if he didn't step in," Goku tells his friend as they walk towards the Sanctum's wall. "What choice did he have? I don't think Gohan would be very happy if he let you die."

Piccolo doesn't say anything. There's a far-away look in dark, insipid eyes.

"There're no guards," he eventually utters.

He's right. No cage-faces are at their posts. The alcoves are bare without their looming presence. Even the main gate marking the entry point hasn't anyone either side. Unbelievably, this place has become even creepier.

So they enter the Sanctum without any hassle, firstly arriving into a dilapidated courtyard, one with cracked, uneven stone flooring, before entering the gardens. Around, wayward trees tangle into one another; the leaves are ashy, falling along the way as Goku and Piccolo walk beneath. They nearly trip over the roots every other step.

"I'm never walking again after this," Goku jokes, "I'm gonna' fly even to the bathroom."

"Disgusting."

"Flying or bathrooms?"

"The human digestive system."

Goku moves slightly ahead, jumping onto one particularly established root curling from out of the soil. "Why is there no one here? Did you say you heard something in here earlier?"

"Banging," Piccolo replies, surveying the rotten foliage. "Shouting."

"…Screaming?"

"No, but it'd been happening as we were arriving. I'd been too busy with Rixas to get a good grasp on what was going on."

Goku swallows a gulp, jumping down. Then, feasibly, the Ghost may have very well been here. The woman in the inn had said that it'd been more active as of recent, maybe it's sensing something – the dragon ball possibly, like she'd said, or perhaps, even Gohan himself. Two gods in this place might be two gods too many. Between them, the ball and Goku's Super Saiyan God ki maybe this just sent the Ghost haywire?

He relays these thoughts to Piccolo, hoping to be told otherwise.

"I don't know how it all works but the theory is plausible," he instead says, "Still, keep your guard up. Anyone could be around here."

The main hall of the Sanctum reminds Goku of the churches back on Old Planet Geo. The stained glass is just as ruined, with shards glistening in faint candlelight. Neither of them brought torches. Upon inspecting the upper balconies above the stage, he wishes they had. Doorways offer corridors into the unknown, subsections remain hidden; niches are lost. Though, the main section is still bright, and maintained to a higher standard than anywhere else in the building. Its stone floor is polished to such a point that Goku can see his own reflection gawkily staring back.

Even a staircase leading down is dotted with candles, half-melted along the very steps themselves.

Footsteps are heard from the bottom.

Gohan?

Goku and Piccolo share a look, and then proceed. The smell of mildew returns within the spiralling descent; damp, sickly sweet and green, it melds uncomfortably with burning wick. Maybe it all connects down here. That cave, Sinner's Lake, the creepy crypt place, whatever else that's underground; surely it's all one big labyrinth.

When Goku hears the dripping of water there's a strange sense of déjà vu.

Then, even worse…

The whispering.

It's back up the stairs. Is it following them?

Piccolo speeds up at the same time Goku does. Steps are taking in threes and fours, some missed in great, wide chunks until finally, they reach a curved copper door. It's so shiny that it looks out of place. And at first he isn't sure on touching it – but who is he to question it when the whispering encroaches? Goku doesn't waste a second longer. He hauls it open, gesturing Piccolo through before rushing in his wake, clicking the lock with tenacity.

Piccolo's voice is barely audible. "Goku…"

What he sees when he turns around isn't quite what he'd expected.

Gohan.


What an awful place.

How tragic the circumstances of this entire situation.

At least, now, I'm here.

Gohan hums, stroking his fingers atop the four-star.

It'd been hidden away in a chamber tucked far beneath the sanctum, standing so very proudly centre, waiting for Gohan, like it'd known he was coming.

The four-star… It's his favourite, he decides, if only because of his history with the one that'd been on Earth.

Once he removes this ball from its podium, all will be nigh here in Luxun's Domain. The new Sun, as it'd been ridiculously referred to, will be a figure of hope no more but instead a memory these damned people will relay to their children in folktales. Over time, they'll forget the dragon ball's glimmer of hope. They'll continue to worship Luxun's decrepit Ghost with thankful admiration, as though there is no better honour than becoming dinner to a ravenous swelling of wastrel energy.

This sty-like realm is but another forgotten mishap. Gohan admits the fault lies with the Gods of Revelation most of all, but for all deities to have forsaken these people for so long? How cruel.

Taking this ball is the first step to rectifying wrongs. The people may think this as an energy source, but in fact, it is so much more than that. It'll be a contribution to Revelation. He'll be able to do more with this than any of them can, and for that, Gohan has work to do. Even if some people will get hurt today, tomorrow perchance, then the sacrifice will be worth it; he promises as much.

Taking this ball may be dooming Luxun's Domain, but it will be saving many more.

Gohan is a numbers man, after all.

The ball is finally collected from the central stand, and he smiles.

It'd been a difficult venture for Gohan to persuade the others to let him go to Luxun's Domain by himself. First of all, there'd been the need for a glamour of the eyes as, from what he'd studied, divine energy shines with renewed vigour here. It'd been the heavens once before, after all.

Looking at his dark eyes once again hadn't been something he'd enjoyed; the resemblance to his father had been especially jarring. The sooner he can be rid of it, the better.

There'd also been the matter of entry. Gohan doesn't ever want to recall how he snuck into one of the most heavily guarded places in existence. Quell had refused to even entertain going, never mind the execution of. Even before then, Quell had especially been stubborn on the matter of Gohan's attending, even going so far as to call him arrogant on Gohan's insistence that he'd be able to handle Rixas alone should it come to it. Gohan isn't scared of Rixas, not at all. If Majin magic cannot top Gohan then without it, Rixas poses a lesser threat.

Or he'd thought as much.

Gohan recalls his father's stance back in the crypt's cave passageway. He can see Rixas' filthy fingerprints all over that, the bastard. How tight the hold had been. How polished.

Whatever. If Rixas wants to jump sides that's fine by him. When all this is over, then the idiot can come crawling back and Gohan might just be ready to talk to him, to forgive him.

Quell will because he's too lenient like that.

"Rixas will be there. I expect you not to get physical," he'd said before Gohan's departure.

Instead of just the idiot, Gohan faces each of his past teachers. All three are here. So he chose to ambush them for the radar – they weren't shy about having it out, not that Gohan hadn't thought they'd bring it. He'd counted on it. So, he'd followed them after the Ghost attack in the hamlet, stalking with near silent precision until his father stupidly made a wrong turn just beyond the charnel house.

The dragon radar led Gohan to his reward. His mission is a success.

Though he can't help but focus on the earlier conversation between his father, Rixas and Piccolo; the one discussing the Revelations of past. It'd been thought-provoking; the talks of Revelation is always of interest to him, and especially so when experienced through the virgin eyes of his father. Perhaps now the man won't see things in black in white nearly as much. Whilst Gohan doesn't expect him to understand everything Revelation stands for, he hopes a lesson was learned.

Haed had once told him that mortals struggle to understand much of what they do. Gohan can't remember if he'd said that to him as Mori or as Gohan, but it has since stuck with him. He recognizes now more than ever how different they are; gods and mortals, and even the kais – it pains him to admit that, not only Haed, but Quell had been right.

Gods… are atop mortals for a reason. They need to lead.

Currently, looking at this world, – this horrible, horrible world — he realises that this self-governing has simply led the people here astray. So blindly they follow the old ways despite rending themselves free of godly reign. They don't want that freedom. They've shown that with how they lust for Luxun's guidance. Gohan can see. Even the gods have grown and adapted into a livelihood of less cruelty; something those of Luxun's Domain have not, and so for that, they need help.

Some people may die here today, like those who had been guarding this place. When the Ghost had devoured each of them, Gohan had been left, ignored, as he made his way along the Sanctum's many steps. The Ghost doesn't want him. Gods are not particles of energy – they are more. They are divine.

Gohan is divine. Haed had been right. Quell had been right.

Gohan, by aiming for Revelation, for the universe, is right.

So, then…

Why is he crying?

It's like the Kai Chamber all over again. Slicing through the Council took no deliberation. Gohan would do it again and again – their screams and begging and pleading had meant nothing. And still, he'd cried for them.

Gohan doesn't understand.

He has a duty to the universe – to Revelation – so why is he so fucking sad about it all the time?

There's a hiccough. Tears fall, circling the dragon ball and streaking all the way to the floor.

More than he is angry, he just –

God.

The idea of dooming these people – these cultists – makes something in his stomach ache, something in his throat bubble; he chokes on it.

Even though it's for the greater good, he –

Suddenly, the door slams open and in runs Gohan's worst nightmare. His father and Piccolo clamber into the room like a couple of elephants, loud and obnoxious as Gohan tries to deal with the pandemonium going around his head. There's sighing, some heavy breathing; clearly, they'd been running.

Piccolo turns and notices him first.

Gohan feels himself go cold. He wears it like armour.

"Goku," his old mentor whispers.

When his father turns around, the earlier unease from whatever is after them (likely, the Ghost) drains. Dark eyes momentarily downturn to the dragon ball in hand, and then back up to him.

Very quickly, Gohan feels self-conscious about the situation.

"Gohan," his father says, sounding as if he's testing the name. "You're—"

Gohan wipes at his cheeks and then looks down at his fingers as though he doesn't believe it, not without the evidence. "A by-product of my constitution, I believe. It comes and goes," he says, light, voice impressively so, "The make-up of Luxun's Domain won't be helping."

"The Ghost, you mean," Piccolo says.

Gohan can't help but be annoyed by the accusation. "What? You think that thing would bother me?"

"Rixas was at—"

"Then let him reap what he sowed. I'm sure the contemplation will do him some good. Now, excuse me, I need to—"

His father strides forward before Gohan can even touch the door handle. "Gohan, I can't let you take that dragon ball."

"Let me?"

"The Ghost is out there," Piccolo says, fast. "If you open that door then you'll be sentencing me and your father to death. Do you really want that? Don't say you do otherwise you wouldn't have saved him the first time."

Gohan only did that for the dragon radar, so he tells himself, knowing very well how untrue that is. "I am not a monster," Gohan coolly replies, "I would have saved any person in my path, regardless of my prior relationship with them. However, you both are posing an annoyance to Revelation despite my warnings about not being involved. Now you ask me not to open this door because you foolishly followed me here?"

"You wouldn't sentence us to something worse than death," his father says, so certainly that Gohan's tempted to open the door out of sheer spite.

"I'm doing as much to the people here, so why not to two more?"

Gohan walks forward, but doesn't manage to reach the door when a hand ensnares his own. His wrist is twisted and the ball bounces up high. Before he's even able to register what's going on, his father is in the air flying, the dragon ball firmly in hand.

"Let's see about that," he says, smirking.

What the hell is he doing? Using ki will attract the Ghost, door or not.

Piccolo is similarly aghast. He shouts his father's name and then some choice words following.

Gohan doesn't allow himself to remain on the back foot. He bounces into the air and makes chase. The room around isn't large by any means, there's little direction his father can take and, besides that, Gohan's faster. Whatever training his father's done with Rixas won't be enough. No one is faster than him.

When Gohan appears where his father is about to land, the latter skids, barely catching himself before coming to a stop. He hops onto his heel, flailing without style. Gohan takes advantage but not in a way expected; he disappears and reappears several feet away, just as his father manages to catch his footing. He steps directly into Gohan's path.

Gohan kicks the ball from out of his hand. Though, it's fruitless. His father catches it with the other with the help of yet more ki.

"Heh, nearly."

"Goku! Knock it off! If you use anymore ki then that—"

"Don't worry," his father says, turning to give Gohan a wink. "Gohan will protect us."

There's a twitch in Gohan's neck. How reckless can one person be?

He refuses to bite. It's ludicrous after everything that his father has the audacity to stand there and grin at him like an idiot. His father is cocky, he's always had that flare, but now that it's directed at him he finds it less endearing and more…

Gohan slowly closes his eyes.

A practiced breath leaves him, a whir of clean energy circles around. The glamour across his eyes breaks.

When he opens his eyes, his father is still stood only feet away, his grin now an easy smirk.

"They're bright, aren't they? I can see why you covered them up."

"Give me the ball."

"Rixas didn't think of that."

"Give it to—"

"Hey, remember when we used to play Capture the Flag? Yeah, 'course you do. It'd been from when we'd been training for the androids. We'd use a softball back then and you'd have to get it from Piccolo or—"

"I don't play games," Gohan interrupts. "This is a waste of time."

The copper door then rattles, loudly. All three turn, watching as the hinges threaten. Bolts crunch as the whispered chaos lies beyond the other side – Gohan can hear the words, the crying, the begging; the screaming that calls out to him. They want it to end. So many souls are being strewn apart, fraction by fraction.

Slowly, into the sands of nothing…

Gohan has watched Haed work. The souls are quiet there at least, already condensed into thoughtless manna and ready to be sieved through the hourglass. So this broken thing makes him feel even worse by just looking at it; an amalgamation of lost souls and broken mechanism.

His dad is wearing his cockiness as though he's proving something. And he is – that he's short sighted.

"Bequeath compassion," Gohan reiterates dully, "End the night, vaporize, sleep, destroy thee, free me."

That smile fades. "Ah?"

"The whispers. You called the Ghost so I am translating for your benefit. This is what it asks for. Did Rixas not tell you what the whispers say?"

Behind, the door is rattling so ferociously that the entire room groans.

"Imagine experiencing eternal suffering until your splintered soul's energy is wholly swallowed. Your life would have been stripped but it doesn't end there, as, conscious, you are slowly drip fed to feed the heart of the Ghost." Gohan's ki won't do much to draw in the beast with it being as clean as it is, but his father's sure proves tempting. As he flies there, so desperately does the Ghost try to reach them. "You don't know the truth of the situation yet you want to play? I close my eyes now and I can hear the pleading for mercy, how the souls there, as disjointed as they are, want nothing less than to feel naught. What do you know of it? This phantom chasing you?"

Finally, the smirk does falter. "It's Luxun's Gh—"

"It's the Reckoning," Gohan interjects, "In the past, the heavens would judge it upon themselves for who is worthy. There'd been no fool at a desk with a gavel, only the divinity itself. When Revelation of past corrupted the system, it collapsed on itself. Luxun's might tangled with the fabric of this place, slowly allowing for the judgement structure to become semi-sentient and all-consuming. The practice of soul disintegration was and is still a practice used in subsections of the Underworld; it's used in order to establish balance in the system. Here, however…"

"It's unstable," Piccolo finishes. He's smart. Gohan knew he'd catch on first.

"Yet it's what keeps the domain's heart beating. Without energy passing through it, the realm is doomed. It's a vicious cycle. The Reckoning is merciless as it needs to feed on the energy of the souls bound to its plane."

His father almost looks like he's in pain. That brain is working overtime as he spins the four-star around and around. "So, then… The new Sun…"

Gohan's lips purse. That's right…

"They think the Ghost, uh – the Reckoning – can use this as an energy source instead," his father continues, "Would that work?"

"Yes."

His father holds the ball like it's his most precious item. "Then, this… Gohan, if you take this…"

"They'll all eventually be consumed by the amalgamation, yes."

"Gohan!"

Facing someone opposing him gives him strength. The earlier guilt fades into steely defence. "Give me the ball," he says, "Revelation first needs to be achieved before I help those here."

Annoyingly – and unsurprisingly – his father makes no move to return what's duly Gohan's. "No, this isn't right. I know you wanna' help people but this isn't the way to go about it."

What does he know? His father is simple. He thinks being good and nice is the same thing. Making difficult decisions like these is what sets Gohan apart from the mortals.

Calmly, he forces his next words. "The ball for your life."

Piccolo's intake of breath sends a chill of satisfaction down Gohan's spine – they need to know that he's not messing around. This is not a game. His father's grip tightens on the four-star.

Gohan's hand flexes in expectation. Silence lingers.

"…Mmmm…" His father scratches his head. "I'm real sorry, kiddo. Y'know, I just don't believe you."

Gohan feels the twitch in his neck start to ache.

When he goes to lunge forward, his father does the unthinkable. A blast of ki jets past, grazing Gohan's cheek on its way; it strikes the copper and explodes with a resounding boom. The air pushing back is hot, a singe of melted metal fills the room; the dark is bled out with yellow, flashing energy.

You idiot!

Gohan's objective changes in a few short seconds.

"CLOSE YOUR EYES!"

Whether or not they do, Gohan hasn't the time to stop and ask. He moves forward and confronts the Ghost before it can feast.

The amalgamation explodes into the room with glaring magnitude. Indescribable colours burn his retinas, gasps are wrenched from his lungs; his soul aches. Staring at it is like looking deep into depths of infinity. Oceans of universes, stars, black holes and everything in between swirl in a hypnotic dance – the breath of life itself – all blinks and comes and goes and... and… Gohan wants to be sick, he wants to cry.

The Almighty watches from its eye.

Mortality. Life. Death.

He's being reborn.

He's dying.

It's not real, he reminds himself. Concentrate.

The whispers sing to him, a wondrous song of its people. The wailing is beautiful.

Focus.

"D-Damn it," he mutters, pressing his eyes shut. They burn. Should he be mortal then he'd already have been swallowed, his eyes would have already blistered. But he's not.

Gohan is more.

Mori is more.

Gohan breathes steadily, somehow remembering that he does in fact own hands. He brings them together, casting his shield. Its darkness grows at a rapid rate, expanding so fast the pressure of his ki starts to eat at the walls trapping them. As predicted, the Ghost wants little to do with Gohan.

No. Hungrily, it searches for his father and Piccolo, its spectral inconsistency bursting at the seams.

A shockwave of black pushes it back. Gohan cannot see it with eyes pressed close, but he can feel the ice draw away. By challenging the fucker, Gohan's breaking an immeasurable amount of laws. Luxun's Ghost is to be respected, protected almost. It's revered.

It won't judge me…!

Gohan drags his ki further and further until the entire building starts to dance. Crumbling walls erode, starting near the stairs and bringing forth an avalanche of rubble. The candles have been lost, with the only light breathing being from Gohan's energy. White, rippling blasts try to push Gohan's blackened shield in a desperate bid for control.

So desperately, the whispers howl when Gohan brings down the entire Sanctum.

The night has been returned. Float bricks fall. Dust drowns the air.

The Ghost has been thwarted.

And, honestly, it'd been near effortless. That's the effect of clean ki.

The Ghost strikes at Gohan's shield like a bug swatting a window. It bounces along until finally it deems the situation unfavourable. Like mist, it swerves, pressing along the barrier, circling it, until finally ascending into the void of black beyond.

Awful…

Gohan's hand rests atop his hair, and he sighs. There's no use in turning around. Gohan knows that both his father and Piccolo took off as soon as they spied the opportunity.

Surrounding Gohan is his, or rather, his father's mess. He'd been the one to throw the amalgamation after all. Rubble climbs high in uneven mountains. From one such mountain of debris, there's a scuffle of boots mounting stone. Gohan turns, his eyes narrowing upon meeting familiar gold.

"Mori," Rixas greets.

Oh dear. He looks exhausted.

"Rixas."

"I like what you've d-done to the place."

"You never returned for the rest of our conversation," Gohan says, coolly, "Remember? You said you would return to the estate after dropping Goten off."

"Ah. I'm sorry."

Gohan hums. "So …Are you about to get in my way?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Here I thought you didn't like Earth," he says, cynical, "Been enjoying yourself with those you'd previously sought to hurt, have you? Been making friends?"

"Heh." Rixas can't even stand up straight, yet that mouth doesn't know when to stop. "No need for jealousy, my sweetie-pious. You'll always be my number one."

"Funny how you show it. Step aside. I don't want to waste a second longer with you."

There's a wilting laugh. "'Love you, too."

"I'm being serious, Rixas. Do not get in my way."

"Ah, well. I'm sorry, little brother, but I can't let you achieve Revelation." There's a gust of raw energy bursting from Rixas, sending wreckage awry. "You're not getting your hands on that dragon ball."

Gohan looks into the ambiguous distance behind Rixas, the forest leading back to the hamlet. That'll be where he'll find his father and Piccolo, certainly.

For now, he has a half-dead moron to contend with.

His hand lowers and the Z Sword glistens to life, fitting like a glove.

"You're a mess," Gohan says, "The Reckoning must have tortured you. Yet, you still want to do this. How imprudent. This is your last chance to get out of my way, Rixas, to see sense and to step down. I'm not even asking you to join me anymore – just to get the hell out of my way."

Rixas doesn't have a sword, only a meaty knife that'd been hiding in a thigh holster. It's held up beneath a forced grin.

Two fingers beckon Gohan forward.

He obliges.


Goku has his prize, and with it he flees through the forest trees, not even taking the torch-lit path. Piccolo is behind him, shouting all sorts of things at him. It's all a blur. Everything is a blur; the soaring trees, the rushing of blood in ears, the hitch in his chest; it's all been dialled to ten. The world around spins in its darkness. What Goku would do to be at the gate. How he wishes to already be throwing himself through the portal home.

Gohan's probably ready to strangle him. He must be so mad. Goku feels dreadful. It'd been a low blow to manipulate the situation like that, but what choice had he been left with? They need this dragon ball.

Behind, there's an impossibly bright explosion. Goku cries out, shielding his eyes. After hours of being submerged in this hell scape it's too much. The yellow fireworks are an assault their own.

"Keep going," Piccolo urges, covering his own eyes. "Go!"

Goku does, tripping, stumbling over roots and branches eager to have him succumb. It's hard to concentrate. For the first time in so long, he can feel Gohan's ki – and the familiar warmth of a family member – thumping like a heartbeat. There's no difference to how it's ever felt. It's sincerely so Gohan.

"The ball for your life."

That'd been less Gohan.

It'd been hard to tell what Gohan'd been thinking, especially with how wears his mask of indifference. Goku remembers Gohan on Earth, specifically his return after death; the smiles, the laughter, the warmth. That'd been real… right?

Right.

Never before has Goku doubted his son and today isn't the day to start. Gohan is in there somewhere.

There's another blast in the sky. Sheesh. Gohan's sending out attacks for fun.

Piccolo catches up with him. "He's disorientating us on purpose."

"Or Rixas," Goku suggests, sensing him too.

"Do we fly or not?"

"It could attract the Ghost."

"Well, Rixas won't be able to hold off Gohan forever. The guy's death warmed up." Piccolo covers his eyes when a flare surges from behind. "If we fly we'll make it to the gate quicker. Better yet, any chance Instant Transmission could work?"

Goku thinks about it, jumping over a blackened shrub. "There's no one I can focus on. It won't work. I'd end up just transporting us back to Gohan or something. But flying… all right. All we have to do is beat the Ghost to gate."

Piccolo grunts in agreement. A gust of blue-white surrounds him, brightening the forest instantly. Goku jumps straight to Super Saiyan. Together, they both take flight high above the trees, soaring over the familiar stench of brimstone.

The dragon ball snugly fits into the nook of Goku's palm. It's slightly smaller than the ones originating from Earth, and bigger than the other super dragon ball they have hidden away.

All this for a dragon ball… Man…

"Goku, look out!"

At first, Goku thinks it might be the Ghost and prepares to shut his eyes, but it's not. No. Instead, a sharp eruption reverberates from his side down and throughout all along his limbs. His nerves tingle. The foot that'd been submerged there only draws back once Goku plummets into the dirt. Something cracks as it pulls away.

God, Rixas mustn't have lasted more than five minutes.

Goku stands before the foot plunges down. He narrowly escapes, ducking a further kick. They're lethal, and fast, and he counts himself lucky more than anything not to have received another one to the face. Gohan likes to use his legs. Because he's so tall his reach far exceeds Goku's, something Goku remembers too late after receiving a strike against the shoulder. For that, he's pushed back, loses momentum, and suffers an especially unkind strike. It's an elbow to the chest, winding Goku in an instant.

Who the heck taught him to fight like this?

Rixas' grandiose comes to mind.

Goku'd survived a year with the guy, but Gohan… years. No wonder he's picked up some of that dirty technique, and poise. The little confidence issue of Gohan's certainly been dealt with. There's nothing lacking about how Gohan asserting himself right now.

Ugh!

Goku tries not to hack up spit when he's punched directly in the diaphragm, inches below the last strike. Annoyingly, it's kind of hard to defend himself with just one hand. In the other, the dragon ball barely hangs on.

There's a purr of energy. Gohan's not shy about equipping it, illuminating the adjacent foliage in a coat of shimmery white. There's something different about it. It's sharper, crisp. Is this what it means to be 'clean'? Gohan's got such an impressive grasp on the flow of ki; the way it allows itself to be orchestrated, Goku's not sure whether or not to be concerned or impressed.

A single shot of blue spits out. It's shadowed by chasing sisters, ensuing Goku as he bounces around the trees and up into the ki-kissed sky. A hiss presses through clenched teeth when one skims his arm.

Wow. Yeah.

Okay, he's concerned.

Clean means mean.

"Damn, that sure is some techn—woah!"

Gohan is relentless. He's upon Goku before there's a moment to spare. He throws punch after punch with such a tight knit of concentration that it would be enough to intimidate most men.

Goku decides it's time to switch from defensive. He jumps when that formidable kick comes at him, reminding him of when his ankle had been broken in their last fight. It's different now. Goku's better prepared. Whilst a lot of this style is new, there are still some typical traits that Goku remembers instilling in his son all those years ago.

Gohan swivels back, aiming true with yet another kick. The punch that follows is caught. Goku squeezes the fist, earning, finally, his first blow with a knee to the gut.

Gohan grinds his teeth, gasping.

He still hates being trapped, I see.

It's worth it in Goku's eyes; he drops the dragon ball to the bed of grass below. Now with both hands, he's able to actually have a chance at not being beaten to a pulp. Goku grapples onto Gohan's shoulders and twists him, gaining motion and with it, throwing him high up into the sky.

"Kamehameha!"

It's one of the fastest he's ever thrown out. Goku remembers Rixas' advice in the moment from back in the Time Chamber. Gohan is a glass cannon. One hit and the tide of the fight can change. Unfortunately, it's just too bad that Gohan must have blocked this particular attack about a thousand times in his lifetime. The blue beam carries in a line before be propelled off, diagonally plummeting elsewhere.

Regardless, it'd been too weak. Regular old Super Saiyan won't be able to do much against Gohan at the end of the day.

So, as is overdue, it's time they took this to the next level. Goku cries out, powering up to Super Saiyan God. Ever since his training with Rixas, this level feels comfortable, like a second skin. Red replaces his gold aura; his muscles retract just a little, his speed increases, which is good because Gohan's seems to be picking up if anything.

He dodges the next outbreak of attacks, floating several feet back. It's easier now. Super Saiyan God allows for dexterity in a way Super Saiyan doesn't. Goku feels like he's floating, dissolving away from each strike like salt in water, and each time he himself swings out, only a fraction of the energy is needed. Gohan's nimbler, but he now has to put in effort to stay ahead.

Goku manages to scrape his cheek, and when he does, Gohan pulls back, revaluating.

It's okay. Goku could do with the quick breath.

"Y'know, Gohan, what I don't understand is why you helped me get this form if you were so against me getting my teeth into all this godhood stuff."

Gohan's mask slips, just the smallest bit. Ah boy, irritation. There must be a story there.

"Was it because you missed me so much?"

"…"

"No?"

"I'm not talking ab—"

"Did you know about it, the transformation?" The red aura flashes in display. "Did you?"

Brows rise. Finally, a nibble.

"Yes." And with that, Gohan's eyes trail down low to the knee-high grass where the dragon ball lies. "I'd… studied it."

Goku prepares himself just in case Gohan decides to dive for the ball. "Oh, yeah? But you didn't take me up on it when I offered re-doing the ceremony for you."

"An oversight, in retrospect."

"Well, you're already plenty strong without it," Goku compliments, meaning it. "You've been working hard, haven't you? I can see why you didn't wanna' train with me and Goten back on Earth; it would've been super difficult concealing this much power."

"Not everybody lives to train."

"Yeah, I remember you saying." Goku tries to hold his son's attention for as long as he can. "That was for Goten's sake, though, not your own. You're a natural. I've always said that. You've always had the potential to be the strongest of us a—" Ah, crap – it's not the right thing to say – Gohan hates talking about himself and the disinterest has him slowly inching towards the ground. Think, Goku, think. Any moment now, he might make a break for it. "The thing is, Super Saiyan God is just scratching the surface, y'know."

Oh, that does it.

Gold snaps up.

"You've found a form beyond it?" The curiousity is badly concealed. Goku smirks, nodding. "And how did you manage to train so effectively in such a short span of ti –? Oh, the Room of Spirit and Time. Of course."

It's like watching whether or not the wolf will make an attempt at the deer. It's tense. Gohan eyes him with a begrudged, hungry expression. He wants to know about the ascension. He just doesn't want to ask.

Yes, you keep thinkin' about it.

Goku chances a glance below to where the dragon ball had been thrown. The longer he keeps Gohan here the better. If they get trapped here in Luxun's Domain then at least they're together. Gohan won't be able to achieve Revelation if he's locked down in the realm, dragon ball or not.

Oh, damn it!

Ultimately, Gohan does chance a go for the ball. Goku uses Instant Transmission to cut him off, only for it to have been an ambush. He's ready for Goku, as is the miniscule sphere of ki that sprouts in anticipation. Something in Goku's deep rooted memory screams at him to get away, to move as far back as possible from the unassuming white. Good thing, too. The sphere explodes. Angry waves of heat flood free, chasing Goku backwards, licking out. As such, itchy prickles are inescapable.

It's the same attack Gohan had used on Old Planet Geo.

From it, Goku had felt awful for ages after, and he'd remembered it burning him beyond skin level.

Oh yeah, that'd been real nasty.

Gohan isn't playing about. He sends several of these dithering balls out. They hold like mines, blocking Goku off and having him search for another way around. Instant Transmission yet again comes in handy. Goku lands directly behind Gohan this time and throws an arm around his neck, pulling him in tight.

Gohan tries to buck him, however whilst he's taller he's not built bigger. Goku has the advantage when it comes to brute strength.

"Sorry," he says, before kneeing Gohan in the tailbone of his back.

He does it so hard that his knee throbs. There's a groan, another gasp, but Gohan doesn't take the hit quite as badly as Goku's hoped for. The dragon radar emerges, though. Goku catches it as it flails from Gohan's cloak but it costs him the dominant position in the process. Gohan lunges, and somehow he pulls himself free in the chaos, curling overhead to bring a great force against Goku's head. The strike sends Goku southward and into the grass Gohan'd just been trying to reach. He's not alone. A brilliant wave of silver ki pursues him.

He shuts his eyes, anticipating agony.

Crackles of burning surround him, but wholly, he's fine. The warmth of cindering flames grazes over his new wounds, exacerbating them, yet the true damage is to the surrounding foliage. Grass becomes charcoal very quickly.

Gohan lands feet away, eyes scouring the ground. He's looking for the dragon ball. The flames are blown asunder when Gohan motions an arm forward. Wild winds take it away, as still, he looks.

…but cannot find.

Goku chuckles, sitting up. "Oh no, it's gone."

Good job, Piccolo. Now, you've just gotta' make it to the gate.

For a moment, Goku thinks that Gohan might lash out in frustration but he doesn't. He doesn't he go to snatch the radar. That same pokerfaced expression just turns to look at him, and then back in the direction of where he and Piccolo had originally been journeying towards.

No – Goku can't let Gohan catch up. Where Rixas had failed to stop him, Goku can't.

He charges up an attack aimed to unsettle Gohan.

"Destructo Disc!"

Gohan turns his head back lazily. He doesn't even bother moving.

Yet, the spinning wheel carousels with direct precision. There's a clash of energy against energy. Sparks spit. When it clears, Goku sees the disc; a perfect, whirring circle no longer spinning against Gohan's robes. It hadn't even cut the fabric.

"Mori of Revelation is the Master of ki", Shin had once told him.

Seeing it and believing is different to hearing it. Gohan hadn't even bothered to defend himself.

What immense control.

Goku grimaces. Well, that's troubling. The Destructo Disc isn't the most powerful in Goku's arsenal but it's nothing to sneeze at, especially elevated as it had been with Super Saiyan God.

Gohan takes up the disc with meticulousness. Slowly, the yellow of the energy slips out, trickling like a glittering stream down Gohan's arm.

What's he—?

The disc is reborn in sanitized white, now silent. Goku prepares to dodge but the attack isn't for him. Gohan spins, throwing it into the night and far beyond. The light is now but a pinprick of what it'd been, riding the horizon, chasing… chasing…

There's no…

No…

There's no way that… he could be aiming for Piccolo, not at this distance. Surely not.

Something in his gut makes Goku jump up, and he dashes, spooked, just to be backhanded back down from out of the skies. Gohan doesn't chance it. He tails Goku back down to the dirt, knees capturing him and pinning him. Similarly, Goku explicitly doesn't like being trapped either, and so desperately, he tries to wiggle himself free. A repeat of what happened on Old Geo isn't welcome.

Though, that's what he gets. Gohan methodically punches Goku over and over, trying to go for that knock-out. Unlike back in the cave however, Goku has a better guard, his ki is raised enough to shield most of the impact. He won't be out-muscled.

Goku's head swings into the charred dirt, feeling no less dizzy as he'd been before all of this.

When Gohan goes to take a breath of air, Goku sends him back with a charge of energy. The whiplash is just about enough. Gohan stumbles, giving just enough room for Goku to edge his way out.

In the nearby distance, Goku hears an explosion. The disc has struck something.

Goku doesn't have time to react. Gohan engages him again. For some time, Goku does his best staying ahead, avoiding each strike by the hairs on his head. Landing his own strikes comes few and far between, with Gohan proving to be liquid smoke itself. His tempo is smooth, as though he's dancing; coiling around everything Goku has to throw at him. Nothing kills the rhythm. Gohan is beyond reach.

That's fine. So long as he stays here then that's okay by him.

Piccolo has to get outta' here.

Rixas really does know Gohan. He'd said that Goku would need to power through, and even now, there are signs that perfection comes at a cost. Whilst Gohan's not flagging, he's not generating the same fluidity in his motion as when they'd first started. Goku understands the trouble. Without the power of Super Saiyan God he also struggles to maintain his standard.

Finally, Goku dodges long enough to get a good swing in. This is only his, what, third decent hit?

Satisfaction swills in his belly. Watching Gohan tear a line through dirt makes him grin through the panting. Sweat trickles, his chest aches.

Oh, this training with Rixas certainly has paid off. What a difference!

Soon, he'll ascend to the next form. For now…

Goku decides to take a leaf out of Gohan's book. He points his leg straight, soaring down and into his son's gut. Normally, he'd have sent a ki blast but Gohan seems to have a tolerance against most – if not all – energy based attacks. If the key to bringing down Rixas is a good energy blast then the opposite seems to apply for Gohan.

Gohan splutters and Goku's rewarded with a spray of warm blood across his cheeks.

Oh no…

The feeling of victory wavers. He worries. Was that too much? Maybe he –

Gohan knots his legs around Goku, flipping him. His teeth are clenched, the gold of his eyes is flaring and blood stains his chin. He isn't happy. More blood spits out when he yells, burying a hand acutely into Goku's abdomen.

Goku goes cold.

Something pierces him.

So instantly Goku feels the rip not once but twice, firstly through his stomach and then again through his back. He buckles. The feeling in his legs disappears and he finds himself slumping over Gohan. Pain rips universally throughout his body, the hot stretch of a fresh cut having him see stars.

Bile rises.

What was that?!

Gohan breathes harder than ever, shoving Goku off of him and pulling something along with him. That's when Goku sees it; a sizzling, golden extension birthed from Gohan's bloodied hand. It's energy manifested as a blade.

Gohan'd just stabbed him.

"Thas' cheating," Goku manages, spluttering. "You – really –"

Gohan stands, shaking the blade away. He looks at Goku, watching the red of the Super Saiyan God transformation bleed away.

"There's nothing beyond this form, is there?" he asks, "You were lying."

Well, Goku'd just been seconds away from showing him before Gohan whipped that thing out. He wryly holds his smile. "I…I wouldn't lie to you."

Above him, Gohan watches. Blood pools around his feet as the silence trickles on. "You're trying to irritate me on purpose. Don't think I don't know what you're doing. I'm not going to react, I'm not going to drop my principles."

Goku drops his head back, a laugh bubbling. "C'mon, Gohan. You're over thinking."

"No. I'm not."

He's not. Goku wants to see his son emote. He wants something more than this.

"I'm aware that you're my biggest threat," he continues to tell Goku, "Everyone tells me to watch Beerus, or the kais, yet my instincts tell me to watch you, to remove you from the situation. I refuse to give you an inch because I understand very well what you would do with it."

"Remove me? Keh. That's… gotta' be rough, 'cause, well, you're struggling to let me die. There's been so many times you've saved my skin now." He reaches out gingerly and wraps his fingers around his son's boot, recalling an old and distant memory of him reaching out to a tiny hand on the battlefield. Back when Vegeta had been their biggest threat, everything had seemed simpler. Good and bad… Right and wrong. "I bet it sucks having me for a dad."

Gohan kneels into a crouch, plucking away the fingers. "I could leave you to bleed out," he says conversationally. "That would do it. It's not like you can walk anywhere. I cut your spinal cord."

Ah, that explains why he can't so much as wiggle his toes.

"Are you gonna' leave me to bleed?"

There's deliberation. Gohan rests his head against his hand, staring down. "Tell me, if you were to pick between your family and the lives of the entire universe, which would you choose?"

The world spins, his mind more so. Goku closes his eyes to combat the nausea. "Ah… You know me, Gohan. I'd try for both, a-always."

"And if you can't have both?"

"Honestly…I … I think I'd choose my family."

Gohan hums. "You're lying," he eventually says, "Which is why you should have more understanding of my plight. You've chosen the greater good over your family time and again. You remained dead after the Cell Games, you chose to let Goten and myself perish at the hands of Majin Buu… You are a man capable of higher understanding yet you struggle to accept Revelation. Is it because Revelation directly impacts you? Can you not remain impartial?"

"G—"

"Your biggest fear isn't losing family. Your biggest fear is being made weak. How you wouldn't blink if Revelation was anything else. You proved yourself a hypocrite back in the charnel house. Don't think I didn't hear your conversation."

Instantly, a fire is set under Goku. He coughs wetly, heated. "How can you say that?" he snaps, "Losing you was the hardest thing that'd ev—!"

"Yes. Losing me. Losing." Goku wants to punch that deadpan look right off of his face. "This mysterious foe behind your son's disappearance must have set you off. You did only what you knew how. You trained and trained and—"

Goku snags at Gohan's cloak. "You…"

"I… what?"

Gohan stares at him, indifferent.

Do you… really believe that? Do you…

"ARGH!"

Molten agony then pools from Goku's midsection. He leans back screaming as Gohan's hands firmly press into the entry wound, and then the exit. Ki scalds indiscriminately, hot like lava, angry and sizzling.

Finally, the intensity dies.

Goku breathes. His vision is blurry, tears cling to his lashes.

Gohan's hands rest on the wound he'd just seared together. He'd just saved Goku once more. And now, his gaze looks into nothing, as though he'd just lost some inner battle of his own.

"G-Gohan."

"Maybe I will let Quell do it."

Goku raises his hand up, reaching for his son's, but by the time it traverses that far, Gohan's already gone.

"G-G…"

At some point, the weight of it all catches up.

He's gone to the world.


Goku's floating.

The trees of Earth – pink and optimistic – surround him, gently waving in the wind as the aroma of fresh cherry blossoms announce the arrival of spring. He's not in his usual happy place of 439 Mountain Area, but instead in the botanical gardens in the clutch of East City, lounging on a picnic blanket and watching the clouds venture overhead. It's a nice park. Goku's always liked it.

Children giggle and play nearby. People talk amongst themselves. Chi-Chi is doing just that, chatting away with Ox about something or other. They laugh, a picnic basket rustles open. Goku actually thinks that he can hear Krillin, Yamcha too; they're in the distance, joking with other memorable voices. Vegeta, Bulma… Is that Trunks?

He smiles.

Clouds lazily pull themselves across blue.

The sun is hot.

"Think you could show us some moves, Dad?" Goten's voice calls out along the breeze. "You promised to show me how to do those katas." Goku sits up. The colours of the park are so bright, flowers bloom all around. In front, Goten stands; a lop-sided grin smeared across his face, hands to hips. "C'mon, old-timer. Up you get."

"Heh-heh, none of that."

Before he moves, Chi-Chi kisses his cheek. She asks him to be careful, to come back in one piece, she laughs more; gosh, the sun looks really good on her.

He follows, floating through the green, listening as birds sing and chirp and fill the skies with energetic flutter. The cicadas must be around here, too; he can hear them making an early entrance into the season. Everything is so bright – so colourful – so wonderful. Goku feels warm. With equal warmth, he looks at his son. Goten's growing up to be his own person now, but Goku can still see himself. The smile, the laugh, the brightness…

Bright… It really is so bright today, and hot.

"Let me grab Gohan, too."

His pace stills, bare feet and toes submerging into freshly cut grass. Mmm… He can smell it. So rare does he smell it with being in the wilderness yet he's always loved it.

Wait.

What did Goten just say? Who's here?

Gohan… Gohan

Of course, yes, Gohan's here, too.

Talk about heaven on Earth.

They find him under a tree with a book parked under his nose. He's a vision. So studious and smart, yet he came here today dressed in Goku's colours. The gi suits him more than it ever did Goku.

When Gohan notices them, dark eyes roll up, a small – almost shy – smile follows, and his book is discarded almost immediately.

"You gonna' come to train with me and your brother?" Goku asks.

"Dad's gonna' show us the katas again."

Gohan, the orderly thing that he is, puts his book away into his schoolbag, still pleasant, still smiling, still… bright. Goku looks to the sun. Whoa. Its blessing is drowning the day. How the white stretches over all, how colours glisten… it's unreal.

"You ready, slowpoke?" Goku jokes, turning back to his eldest.

Slowly, Gohan stands, still smiling.

Still saying nothing.

"…Gohan?"

It's really bright.

Goku feels sweat trickling down his brow. Isn't it supposed to be spring?

Hot pink – almost red – cherry blossom petals rush by. The smell of cut grass hurts his throat. People are laughing so loudly that they may as well be screaming.

"Gohan?"

Gold eyes crack open.

"Maybe I will let Quell do it."

Goku can't breathe. His chest hurts. The day is too bright, too hot, as though he's swimming in the sun itself. Creeping as the moon climbs, white bleaches all, stealing away his sons, his wife, his friends; his everything. Goku tries chasing the colour but his legs won't work.

That's right.

They don't work now.

Gohan stabbed him.

Searing white flashes of agony remind Goku of the injury. His stomach squeezes, his back pops when the blade materializes, and overhead, Gohan just watches him with an empty expression as Goku bleeds away into a wrinkly, emptied sack of bones.

Goten laughs as his father dies. He'd be better off without him anyway. His mother has finally seen sense and left him, so what's left for Goku to do other than to die?

"N-No," Goku manages.

"Maybe you should have stayed dead," Gohan tells the sack of bones, wiping his blade along his robe, "Then perhaps I wouldn't have killed myself to join my true family."

"Gohan…"

It's so bright.

Goku feels his brain power to one hundred in a fraction of time. He feels sick, he wants to scream; it's all too much. He can't breathe – why can't he –?

"GOKU!"

He gasps.

It's an abyss of white, all around, everywhere…

Until it's not.

The silver gradient slowly fades, taking with it its warmth and unnatural luminosity. The grass – which isn't Earth's at all – in its clumps of burnt states of decay, glows before accepting its fate. As such, the black returns.

"Close your eyes!"

Rixas.

Goku tries to recall what happened. Everything is such a blur. When he goes to move and sharp pain twinges in his abdomen, he remembers. He remembers that his son stabbed him, and that he must be on the way to catching Piccolo, and getting that dragon ball and…

Yet, that doesn't explain what's going on here.

"Rixas, what's—?"

The whispering needs to only announce itself once.

Goku flinches, squeezing his eyes shut. It's the Ghost – the Reckoning. He wills his legs to move, desperately forcing his body to do something – anything – to cooperate to get the hell out of here. The Ghost's touch isn't cold anymore; it burns with fury, with desperation to swallow down Goku as one.

Goku drags himself backwards through the charred grass.

Rixas is behind. "C'mon!"

Rough hands grapple along Goku's back, snagging at the shredded gi and cloak. They eventually get a good hold on him, and are able to pull him from out of the dirt and into the air. Goku dares not open his eyes until the bluster of wind makes it hard to hear, with the first thing he sees being the outline of Rixas, shining as they soar through the black. He's looking pretty roughed up. Dark or not, Goku can recognize a shiner when he sees one.

They fly for quite a while, stopping only when Goku starts to cough up more stomach acid.

"Get it out, man," Rixas says, slapping his back as gently as he can. He has to hold Goku up. "You're a mess."

But they can't stop. Piccolo is out there, alone, and unable to stand up to Gohan. Goku tries his best to move forward but only manages to make himself look more pathetic.

"I…I…" Damn it, he can't even speak.

"The Ghost looked to be making a meal of you," Rixas tells him, "How are you feeling? Are you seeing floating colours? Hallucinations? No?" Goku manages to shake his head, disorientated but otherwise competent to that around him. "God. You're pale as, well, a ghost. Steady now. We don't have time to be dropping dead."

Goku splutters a laugh despite everything. "I… It felt so real. I… Gohan…"

"He did a real number on you."

"The ball… Piccolo…"

Now that Goku can get a proper look at Rixas, he sees that he isn't in much a better state than himself. He's sliced up with drawn, pulsing lines or red cross-stitched into his skin. His robes are in tatters, he's practically topless. Interestingly, there's a fat lump near his left temple, likely where a hilt had hit.

"He wasn't messin' about today," Rixas jokes, "At least we're both kicking."

That's true. Gohan had sealed Goku's wounds, he'd stopped the bleeding. Yet, he'd looked so conflicted about it.

After a last retch of sick, Goku leans against Rixas fully. His legs are worth nothing.

"You feelin' better?"

Goku nods, slapping his friend's chest. "Yeah. Let's go to the gate. M-Maybe Piccolo's already there."

"Better yet, can you feel Mori's ki?"

Goku closes his eyes, finding it harder to open them back up. There's shuffling in a bid to keep him awake, to have him concentrate, but all it does is make him want to throw up once more. He tries his best regardless, scouring the plane for the familiarity of energy. Gohan hadn't been bothered earlier about concealing it so perhaps Goku'll be able to latch on.

And soon enough – Ah, yes, there it is.

"Got it?"

Goku tries to keep on. He nods, and then brings up his fingers, knowing exactly what Rixas wants of him.

"B-Bet you're glad I can use Instant Transmission now," Goku jests before then up and vanishing both of them.

As soon as they land, Goku crumbles in Rixas' arms. His breath is stolen by fatigue. Even doing something as simple as Instant Transmission winds him, and worst of all, Rixas isn't even a good pillar; he tumbles too, resulting in the pair collapsing onto heaped cobblestones.

Goku splutters, tasting metal.

I just need to hang on a little longer…

He looks around. The surrounding lanterns suggest that they're back in the town; tight knitted buildings trap the lane they've found themselves on, with high rising walls leaning on its rightmost side. Centre of the lane is the previously seen copper dome and its wilting flame. It flickers tiredly; the final minute to midnight now in session.

Goku's been here, he realizes. This is where they'd started. Only now, there aren't any people; locals or visitors alike.

Where is everyone?

Goku's collected once Rixas manages to scrape himself up. He's swaying, exhausted.

"The gate," he says, gesturing to the heavyset doors opposite. They're still open. Did Piccolo make it? Where's Gohan?

"Don't make me take it by force. I will if I have to." Both turn. It's Gohan's voice from somewhere beyond the copper dome. "You're smarter than this, Piccolo."

Rixas manoeuvres them for a better view, climbing the steps behind the podium. Through the swerving heat of the dome's fire, two silhouettes become visible. Piccolo's closer; they can hear that his breath is laboured, as though he just flew a great distance in no time at all. By looking at the charred remnants of his cape and the way he limps, that repurposed Destructo Disc must have struck him after all. Otherwise, however, he's relatively unscathed and in his hand is the four-star dragon ball.

Gosh, Piccolo's so close; barely forty feet away from the gate. Goku feels sick watching – It's impossible. Piccolo's not going to make it. There's no way.

"I'm not giving it to you," Piccolo replies over his bated breath. "You'll have to do the dirty work and take it from me."

"You know you're no match for me."

"I'm not afraid of you, Gohan."

"Admirable," Gohan returns, sarcastic, he thinks, if recognizing it correctly. "But you should understand that Rixas and my father will need assistance in leaving this place. If you're injured, too, then it's likely none of you will be getting out."

"Isn't it beneficial for you to have us trapped until the next waning gibbous Black Moon?"

"Yes… If there is one." Rixas drags Goku backwards when Gohan turns to the dome. "After all this mayhem, I doubt Luxun's Domain will be open to the public again for a very long time. We've all made quite the mess here today."

Piccolo breathes out, amused. "You don't sound very sorry about it."

"I'm not. I'm sure you can assess my feelings on this place quite well. It needs over-hauling."

"You've never liked seeing those around you suffer, and needlessly so at the hands of meaningless religion, too."

Gohan's shoulders ease. "Yes…"

"I agree that the people here need to be saved," Piccolo continues, "Lord Luxun's Ghost running rampant serves nothing aside bloodshed, despite what the locals believe. Even if they put meaning into the murder through religion, it doesn't change the fact that they live here without a choice, that this fate is their inevitability."

It's the right thing to say. Gohan takes a step forward, cautious. Gold flickers with curiosity. "And you don't see the irony of your words?" he asks, "That while you find it acceptable to step in here, you contest Revelation?"

"I don't believe tradition shouldn't be questioned."

Gohan stops, mid-step.

At first, Goku thinks Piccolo might have said something wrong, until he realizes the problem is on the other side of the dome. There's a gasp, Rixas goes to move them backwards, but they're too slow, too injured, and Gohan is just so fast.

Piccolo dodges left, needlessly, when Gohan pulls the Z Sword out and sends it spiralling. It plunges into Rixas' shoulder and sends him coursing into the stone building behind, where he's now pinned.

There's a groan, a splutter of blood.

Goku meanwhile is back on the floor, a puddle of limbs, with his only option being to stare as his son stalks closer to Rixas. The blade is twisted before being yanked free, and Rixas swallows a cry, falling forward and into Gohan's shoulder. When Gohan steps back, Rixas submerges to the cobbles, coughing and gasping. There's the sound of something wet hitting rock.

"It's nothing the Supreme Kai's dog can't fix," he says cruelly. "I'm sure you'll be up and about in no time. Then per—"

"Gohan," Piccolo chides. "That's enough."

"Yes." Gohan wipes the sword clean across Rixas' back. "I suppose it is."

Goku feels something in him go numb. All those times Rixas had attested to his and Gohan's closeness, it feels even more unreal than usual to imagine it possible. The way Gohan's looking at him is as if he couldn't hate anyone more, as if, without Piccolo here, he really wouldn't have been able to hold himself back.

Heartbreakingly, it's still more than what Goku ever got from him. It's not indifference.

There's a final sneer towards Rixas, and then, "The ball, Piccolo," he demands, hand extended. "I'm done here."

"You don't need to do this."

"I do."

"You're—"

"I don't want a lecture," Gohan intersects, "Just the ball. Give it to me and I'll spare you the same fate as them."

Goku wants to tell Piccolo to run through the gate, but he knows that even on the other side Gohan will catch him. It's all for nought. His heart cries. Everything they've done here has been for nothing.

"I'm surprised you aren't jumping at the opportunity to accost me," Piccolo replies, not retreating whatsoever as Gohan encroaches closer and closer. His cape flitters in the wind. He stands tall. "I thought you might considering what happened on Old Planet Geo."

"I don't have time for petty falling outs."

"Back there, you'd looked hurt."

Gohan stops in front of Piccolo, his boots cut the dirt. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Yes, it does."

"No, the time for Rev—" Piccolo's hand positions itself upon Gohan's arm, resting there. "What are you doing? What—?"

"I'm sorry, Gohan, for how I've treated you."

If Goku's shocked then it doesn't carry compared to Gohan. The mask cracks, almost audibly. That indifference – the cocky dissonance – has been replaced with utter astonishment. Gold doesn't cinder anymore, it widens.

"What?" Gohan manages.

"I was being selfish and stupid. When you came back to Earth, I'd been astounded that it'd even been possible. I'd believed you'd lost, and for years I'd resented you for what you did, under the belief that you'd in fact put us through your suicide. The pain you caused all of us… The pain you'd caused me. The betrayal… I just couldn't forgive you."

Goku swallows. Piccolo…

"And I couldn't shake the feeling that something wouldn't go wrong again, that you would leave again," Piccolo continues, "I was waiting for your father to tell me that they'd found you dead in your bedroom once more."

"…I didn't leave on purpose."

"I know now."

"And even if I did end my own life, how you all reacted was wrong."

Goku remembers when, weeks ago, Gohan had smashed the table during one of the Capsule Corp meetings.

"All of you… You all look down on suicide as though it makes me a lesser… I'm a person. Whether or not I did it is not relevant to how you should treat me now – today."

Even back then, there'd been hints at his alter personality; the angry – harsher – edge. Gosh, this suicide stuff must have been eating him up as much as it had been Goku.

"I thought about it," Piccolo replies, "What you said that day during the meeting. In the past, it'd been so hard to look at it all objectively. You can say that it's a sickness or whatever—"

"It is."

"But… It's just… Gohan, suicide to a person like me, or even your father, you must understand how—"

"I know. I just didn't expect you to lead with your feelings over your head."

Piccolo smirks. It's self-depreciating. "Yeah, well, I guess I've got no excuses for that one, kid."

"Hm." Gohan lowers his head, his hair trickling forward.

And then, he smiles.

He pulls back and scratches at the back of his head, looking impossibly the Gohan of old. "You're so stubborn, Piccolo," he finally replies, "…I… I really missed you, y'know?"

There's then that genuine smile Piccolo's only ever reserved for Gohan. "Me too."

Goku's breath is lodged in his throat. This is new territory. His eyes sting as he watches Gohan eat this all up like some starved animal, eager and wide-eyed and… and… familiar.

It's tense. Goku's waiting for the moment to shatter.

And the dragon ball is still in Piccolo's hand! Gohan's not even paying it any mind.

"I… Piccolo…" There's conflict. For the first time, indecision glistens. "I…"

"You've burdened yourself with too much again, Gohan," Piccolo sagely tells him, as if they were still master and student back in the mountains on Earth. Gohan nods, slightly, lips twitching in derisive amusement. "The complicities of this must have been difficult for you to carry."

"It's my duty."

"Revelation doesn't need to happen in a day."

Gohan tenses. Goku, too, feels himself tighten up.

Careful, Piccolo…

Then, Gohan says something that hurts, with it just being how he says it. "You haven't seen what I've seen," he mutters, gaze distant, horrified, "I… can't let anyone else… There's too much… The sooner the better, for everyone."

"How about for the Kai you murdered?"

Fiery gold cuts deep. "They started this by killing Fa—"

"My point is that evil is everywhere, even in us. Utopia is impossible. Whilst eradicating ki is an appropriate step for a safer universe, do you think it will be without repercussions? The faster you install the new system, the more that will go wrong."

Gohan's rage is quashed with the insight. "I know…" he replies after a beat of silence, "It's just… the bureaucracy of divinity can take eons. Revelation exists to challenge the idle play of uninspired Kai and gods. By taking adva—"

"I understand that my emotions made me tactless in regards to you, Gohan, and now, I see how yours are doing the same to you."

Uwah, nooo.

That's not careful… that's not careful at all!

Suddenly, Gohan moves.

But it's not towards the ball. He grasps Piccolo's cape, determined.

"Join me," he whispers, "You can help with all this. Piccolo, I know that you see the benefit in what I'm trying to do. You know I'm right. With you by side, we can do this together. Revelation will bring salvation to the billions suffering at the hands of injustice, and no more will—"

"Gohan."

There's excitement. He looks years younger, upbeat. "No, listen. You agree with me. I know you do," he pushes, "You just said it."

"I don't want to lose my ki."

"Ah, that's… Well… That's fine. If you're helping with—"

"Then I'd feel wrong in doing it to anyone else."

"It's my right to exact Revelation. You'd be assisting."

"As much as I agree with you that ki is dangerous, I can't help you, Gohan. I'm sorry."

"But… you just…"

"How you're doing it isn't right."

"With you, we—"

"I'm sorry."

"I…" Gohan catches his next words, holding them there, letting them turn to rot. The cogs churn and there's a rigid stalemate where nothing or no one moves, except for Piccolo's cape. In the wind, it flutters between them like a white flag.

"I…" Gohan's hand drops. The wave of impassivity washes over him. "…See."

They've lost him.

No…

Piccolo tries, regardless. "That doesn't mean we still can't talk about—"

Gohan cuts him off, slashing out with a palm and aiming a gust of ki. It strikes Piccolo point blank. A light course outwards, and in a flash, the wall to Goku's immediate left explodes from impact.

The ball somehow has made it to Gohan's hand.

The four-star…

Goku groans, clawing himself forward. This… No… They can't go down like this!

"G-Gohan!"

The god doesn't even acknowledge him.

NO!

Head high, his son walks through the gate and out of Luxun's Domain, dragon ball in hand.

They'd lost.


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As promised. Here is the final part to Luxun's Domain. Thanks so much for your reviews - they've been a pleasure to read and I'll try and get back to each and all when I can. I'm just throwing this chapter out and dashing.

But, oh man. I was so very happy to finally get a good Piccolo/Gohan moment after chapters of starving. Gohan has felt equally starved and I hoped that showed here; that glimmer of "Old Gohan" coming through before wilting away after being scorned once more. Alas, ever so slowly, his supporting network is shrinking... It's gotta' hurt.

As per usual, thanks to Kags for her class beta-ing action. We're truly crawling closer to the end of this story, and I'm buzzin'. C43 is in the works - and I'd love to hear ya thoughts!

Let's go, let's go. Let's do iiiiit.