Planet Plantayne
Plantayne was one of the more intriguing worlds of Universe 6. The surface of the world was barren of anything resembling civilization, instead being covered all around in luscious jungles, massive rivers, lakes and waterfalls and teeming with wildlife. What ruins could be excavated of buildings or towns were mostly ruined, covered by what seemed like thousands of years' worth of moss growth and erosion; and that assuming you could find them amongst the wildlife's multiple, thick layers of foliage. But this did not mean civilization was non-existent, far from it. In fact, these ruins were testaments to the people of Plantayne's incredible advancement, for they had realized long ago how sensitive the environment around them was and migrated to the skies as to prevent damage to it. In the planet's upper atmosphere were large colonies of floating glass domes with golden bases, mounted with engines on the bottom. Inside each of these domes were clusters of buildings public and private. The largest domes were located down south, where apartment buildings, proper households and workplaces were all situated and categorized: one dome had houses and places for industrial workers, others for the service workers, so on and so forth. As one moved north, the domes, while still very large, would grow smaller and smaller. Apartment complexes would give way for private neighborhoods for the wealthy, and the places where factories would be were instead taken up by corporate offices and government buildings. Inside one of these prestigious northern domes was a museum, more specifically the Royal Museum of the Divine. A banner was plastered to its dome's base, advertising it as "A Timeless Commemoration of the Relationship between Mortals and Gods". The buildings itself was a fine marble structure, with its entrance being at the very top of a flight of glistening white stairs as wide as they were tall.
But on this particular day, the stairs were almost totally empty. This was because it was a weekend on the Plantaynese calendar, and while they didn't normally close on weekends, they did take the end of each month to close down for repairs. The only people on those steps aside from workers occasionally coming out for lunch were the establishment's bodyguards. There were three of them, each wearing the same uniform consisting of a black robes with hoods, gray chest plates and white masks that covered their entire face, save for two hollow slits for the guards' eyes. The guard at the front of the group also had two protrusions coming from either side of his robe, and two at the top of it, evidently being the antennae and ears of a Namekian. There was also a bright red line running down his mask between the eyes, marking him as the commander of the trio.
Commander Petrum, much like his compatriots, was bored out of his mind. While he was able to keep himself composed as he stood with his pike in hand, that's all he was doing: standing. These days were always the dullest in his line of work, with not even any passerby to talk to. Naturally, it came to him as a surprise when via his receptive Namekian hearing he was able to take note of a tapping noise from the very bottom of the stairs. When he looked down, he saw a small creature with flowing white hair and a robe trying to walk up the steps with a cane. Almost as soon as it had appeared, it fell down and dropped its cane.
Petrum took a great leap down the stairs, landing in front of the old woman who was now feebly croaking for help. He lifted her up and fastened the thick wooden cane back into her. The little woman looked back up with her, her scaly face having a red gemstone lodged into her forehead and wearing a toothy grin.
"Why, thank you! You're such a nice young man, now aren't you?" she said in an overly enthusiastic tone of voice.
"Hehe, thanks." Petrum replied, a slight blush being hidden by his mask. "Anyways, what is your business here?"
"I was hoping I could enter the museum. There's something very important I have to do today."
"Well, I'm sorry ma'am, but the museum's closed for repairs today. You'll have to come back some other time."
"Are you sure about that? Maybe you could make a little exception for me? I promise I won't disturb anything. Besides, I'm quite good at baking, you know..." the mysterious woman teased.
Petrum now felt a little bad for having to reject her plea. She seemed like such an amicable, interesting character, and her presence alone had broken up the boring day. But nonetheless, he had a job to do and bills to pay.
"Sorry, no exceptions. If you want, I can help you on the way out."
The woman's peachy smile faded away as she leaned her head down and fell silent.
"Such a shame, such a shame, such a shame," she grumbled, "perhaps in another world we could've been friends. I suppose I will have to get you out of my way."
Before Petrum could question what she meant by that, Mamba jolted her neck back up and pointed her free hand at his face. She began to slowly back away, the gem on her forehead flickering a pink glow. Meanwhile, Petrum's subordinates, who were still at the top of the stairs, were looking down at the scene in confusion. Suddenly, they heard a horrific scream come from their leader.
"NO FATHER!" Petrum shouted, backing away from Mamba. "PLEASE DON'T HURT ME ANYMORE! I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY!" And with that chilling, confusing quote, their fearless leader crumpled up against one of the marble railings and began to cry hysterically.
Mamba turned back to the two remaining troopers, her smile having had any facade at warmth in it ripped away in favor of a devilish grin. She began to hobble her way up the imposing steps with unusual vigor. The remaining troopers hadn't the damndest clue as to what they were facing, but they too prepared for a battle. But as they reached into the sheaths on their backs to draw out their own pikes, they felt something cold and metallic behind them.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen." came a new voice so close they could feel it breathe on their masks. Before they could respond, the masked men were lifted up into the air and turned around to see a tall, reptilian humanoid with a shining blue suit of armor, his metal-laden fingers wrapped around their throats and his slim amber eyes staring at them with unrestrained malice.
"Do not despair that your lives are being cut short," Derma exclaimed in his standard low-pitched hiss. "weaklings such as yourselves will be helpless when zero hour comes anyway. The only downside about this is that you won't get to see it."
The two men began to feel something hot below their heads. A few seconds after this sensation first appeared, two purple Ki knives jutted out from Derma's palms and through the mens' throats, killing them instantly. The crazed serpent let the blood flow through his fingers and down to the floor before he tossed them down the stairs, letting them fall down each step. He was careful to toss them away from his dear mother Mamba, who was still walking up the steps. Like Petrum had a minute ago, Derma leapt down to where his relative was, helping her walk up the stairs. When they reached the very top, Mamba briefly hovered up to kiss her son on the cheek for the act of kindness. Before they entered the museum, however, she turned back and looked down to see Petrum still in a vegetative state. Even from her distance she was able to lift the sullen Namekian up with her magic and toss him through the glass dome, shattering it as he was tossed through and fell to the earth below the floating domes. With the last threat at the moment disposed of, the two entered the museum, slamming the door shut behind them.
Derma and Mamba strolled through the Royal Museum. There was no evidence that they were in any rush or were worrying about anything. Instead, they behaved as if they were just another tourist, scanning the exhibits of the establishment. At one point in their walk, Derma stopped for a full minute to look at an ancient stone engraving of an Angel looking down upon an entire small army of Saiyan ancestors, so old as to still have their tails intact. As carefree as the pair seemed, however, they were on an important mission, they full details of which only they knew and had planned for a period of time they themselves were unsure of.
"Halt, intruder!"
The serpentine duo stopped to see a platoon of 5 guards blocking their way. The guards themselves were practically identical to the ones they had faced at the entrance, with what they assumed was their leader even having the same red line going down through his mask. Their physique was slightly different, with somewhat bulkier muscles and more spiny protrusions from their hoods.
"How did you get through the first line of guards?" the chieftain asked.
"I would love to bring them in to give you the full story," Derma replied calmly, "but two of them are mutilated and one is now likely a splatter on this planet's surface." As evidence to this claim, he opened and extended his gloved palms, the dried blood contrasting with the blue steel that the mitts were made of. One of the guards in the back let out a small gasp, but another one slapped his hand over the part of his mask where his mouth would be and silenced him.
"How could you do such a thing?!" the captain replied with shock. "Heinous criminals such as yourself do not deserve the gift of life! We will stop you here and now."
Derma merely stared down the bold speaker, taking note of his slightly wider than normal eyes that weren't entirely visible through the holes in his mask. Suddenly, a purple aura began to engulf his body while he began to chuckle.
"Ladies and gentlemen, today is your lucky day!" he exclaimed with gusto. "You'll be one of the few sentient creatures in millenia to get a proper look at the well-aged might of a former Destroyer!"
Derma yelled, tossed his arms to his sides and spread his legs slightly, letting his divine energy spread throughout the room, where it morphed into a gust of wind that blew around artifacts and forced the guards to lifted their arms to block their faces, pushing some of them back. When the wind subsided and they looked back up. They saw Derma stand still in the same spot, a small crater now at his feet. But there was another difference; a translucent orange barrier engulfed a chunk of the room, trapping them all with their monstrous opponent. Derma quickly turned around and looked at Mamba, who the guards could see was holding her hand towards the barrier while the strange jewel on her head maintained a consistent pink glow. Her son gave a thumbs up to her, which she responded to with her free hand. He then faced back to the guards, teleporting towards them and beginning their battle.
Mamba let her hand down, but kept up the concentration required to maintain the barrier that sealed the guards in with her son. With her hands now behind her back, she watched the two parties clash. Given a small stretch of time, she was able to make out two oddities. First off, it seemed that while the guards weren't really dealing any substantial damage to Derma or even threatening him in the slightest, they were doing an uncannily good job at dodging his rapid attacks and energy waves. They didn't even appear to be overly agile; some of their movements and maneuvers came off as relatively clumsy at times. The second oddity took a little longer to notice, but with enough concentration Mamba eventually realized only 4 of the guards were in the arena. No matter how hard she looked, she could not locate the 5th.
Mamba quickly turned to her side and threw her hands forward. She looked with a satisfied grin at the masked guardian, now suspended in an attacking position in mid-air after attempting to pounce on her in a failed assassination attempt. The trooper feared the worst at this point, but he was surprised when Mamba merely sat down and went back to watching her son's fight. She wasn't even pointed at him anymore, nor looking at him.
"How are you able to keep all these tricks up?" he asked incredulously, still floating in the air in the progressively uncomfortable pose. "Surely magic like this must be draining your energy, no?"
Mamba did not answer, leaving her disarmed opponent to ponder further.
"Wait a second. Are you an Osion?"
This finally caught the magician's attention. "Took you long enough to figure that one out." she replied haughtily.
"I've heard about their witches. I assume you are one of them?"
"Mhm."
"Your power is a little more understandable now. But still, this seems far too impressive even for the likes of you."
Mamba let out a little giggle before she hobbled over to where the man floated, leaning on his outstretched arm wielding a pike.
"I'll let you in on a little secret, chum. Clowns like you have been trying to figure out the secret for eons now, what with your "equations" and "formulas" or whatever. Truth is, it's quite simple: As we grow older, our magical power grows and matures like a fine wine. When Derma and I wished for immortality, he also wished for me to be frozen to exactly 0.01 seconds before the end of my natural lifespan, the very state I am in at this moment."
"Wait… You two are immortal?!"
"Why of course we are! We've been around for millions of years at this point. It's sort of a necessity when trying to enact a plan."
"A plan? What plan?"
"Oh my goodness, that's another thing I hate about you people! You have no imagination, nor capacity to think longer term. I would tell you more, but if I did I'd have to kill you. Speaking of which…"
Mamba stretched out her wrinkly gray finger and put it up to the guard's head. Before he could say anything, a tiny beam pierced through his skull. Only a little blood trickled out of the microscopic wound, but after releasing her levitation spell, the body crashed to the ground lifelessly. The witch then sat down and returned to watching the brawl between her son and the guards.
Derma was steadily growing weary of the battle. Not physically, of course, for he had too much stamina for that to happen at this stage. Rather, he was being worn down by the fact the battle had come to a stalemate. Sure, the guards hadn't been able to land any solid blows, but neither had he done so on the guards. He could sense their energy was a miniscule fraction of his even when fighting together., so how were they able to keep up with his merciless attacks?
The head guard swiped at Derma with his pike. He dodged and fired a purple beam from his finger. Once again it missed, but not entirely, for the captain had slipped and the projectile had been able to cut away half of his mask. The whole thing eventually slipped off and crumbled to the floor, revealing the man behind the mask to be some sort of fish-like creature, with gray, puffy cheeks and aquamarine scales along the top half of his head. Derma dragged himself to the edge of the arena and stared at the creature carefully, for he seemed rather familiar. Suddenly, it clicked.
"I see now. You are one of those beings, the ones who can see the future. Kanassans, correct?" Derma asked. "That would explain why you are able to dodge all my attacks so effortlessly."
"That is correct!" the unmasked captain replied. "Over many years we have honed our future sight to be able to read as far - or close - into the future as we like. No matter how powerful any intruders may be, we are able to read their movements and react accordingly seconds before they even perform them. Many have attempted to brute force through and desecrate this holy museum before you, and all of them have fallen before us."
"I must say, you are quite proficient at haughty boasts." Derma replied, unphased by the revelation. "In fact, I must have future sight myself, because I already know how to beat you all."
He spread his legs and held up his right arm slightly, where a medium-sized purple Ki ball crackled and grew within the raised-up palm.
"One good shot. That's all I need to swat you like flies."
Derma stretched his arm and launched the energy ball directly at the party of Kanassans. As was to be expected, they weaved out of the line of fire with ease. As they were spread out, Derma launched another similar purple ball, this time directly targeted at the captain. Again he dodged, but as he jolted to the side, he had to jump out of the way yet again just in time to dodge another projectile that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. When he recovered, he saw that there were two purple Ki balls, both still fully intact and bouncing along the walls of the forcefield they were entrapped in. He then looked back to Derma, who was now grinning while holding two more projectiles in either of his hands.
"To think that you actually made me worry when it took not even 5 seconds of critical thought to figure you out."
His smirk morphed into a wide-eyed, almost psychotic smile. "HOPEFULLY YOU'LL BE ABLE TO RESTART YOUR STREAK IN THE AFTERLIFE!" he shouted. He then began to pellet the 4 Kanassans with a ballista of projectiles, gleefully laughing as he did so. As they dodged, he kept firing more and more until they almost totally filled up the barrier. He then quietly slipped out and stood by Mamba's side. They both watched as the Kanassan guardsmen sweated and did everything they could to dodge the swarm of blasts bouncing around that they were trapped in with. One tried to pound away at the barrier, another tried to blast away the projectiles. Both of these tactics proved futile. Finally, Derma and Mamba heard a scream; one of the Kanassans had been hit, the explosion being contained in and clouding the view within and from outside the barrier. In the meantime, they heard two more shouts, followed by muffled thuds. When the smoke began to clear, they saw only the captain remained, his compatriots lying as charred, bleeding corpses on the ground. The lone Kanassan stopped dodging. He instead faced directly towards the malevolent reptilian pair and began to charge one final blast aimed at them. Before he could even fire it, one more of Derma's bouncing shots caught him from the back, killing him with ease. Unlike the others, he did not scream.
Derma dissipated the remaining energy balls, and Mamba let down the barrier. They began to resume their walk, being careful to thread around the bodies, when a massive tremor shook the building. The booming force was enough to make Mamba trip, with her and her cane being caught just in time by her son before they hit the ground. The force had come from the opposite end of the building; the place they had been aiming for to begin with. That's where they headed upon regaining their composure, with Derma carrying his mother on his back so he could run faster.
As Derma and Mamba ran into the northernmost chamber of the Royal Museum, their first observation was that most all of the guards had been killed. Marble and stone shrapnel was scattered all along the carpeted floor, patches of which were burning away. Almost all of the glass cases in the room had also been shattered, with their plaques advertising and giving history for objects that were no longer within them, all except for a luxurious-looking throne, which was placed out in the open and seemingly left unperturbed. When the pair looked to the eastern end of the room, they instead found a gaping hole where a wall was once was. Outside of this hole was a Sadal battle cruiser. But it was no ordinary ship; for one thing, the Sadal Defense Force logo on its side had been painted over with a symbol resembling a jolly roger with an Arcosian skull in the middle of the two bones. There were also two men on top of the vessel, but they were not Saiyans; the first and front-most was a slender Arcosian resembling Frieza, but with blue membranes along his body and darker skin below his waist. Behind him was a hulking, gray brute with black armor with spiked shoulder pads, long thin ears like a Namekian's and bright yellow eyes. The smaller of the two took note of Derma and Mamba looking at them and responded.
"Greetings there! Looks like you got some blood on your hands, quite literally as a matter of fact. Unfortunately, we got here before you and have stolen whatever treasure you were aiming for. My name's Frost, and my comrade here is named Sansho, and we'll be taking these goods. The profits will make us a killing!"
Sansho hopped into the ship via a hatch on the roof. Frost followed suit while sealing the hatch, and they prepared the vessel to enter lightspeed and leave the planet with their booty. They ignited the engines, and Frost pressed the button that would allow the ship to travel at the maximum speed. It took them a few seconds to realize the craft was not moving. Frost pressed the button a few more times, but still nothing happened. He was about to leave to another room, when suddenly a blue steel boot stomped and smashed through the cockpit's roof where the hatch once was, tearing it fairly cleanly. A blue hand reached down and grabbed Frost by his tail, where he came face-to-face with Derma, his vision upside-down. He was able to make out Mamba in the background, the strange gem on her forehead now glowing while she held her arms out and smirked. Sansho watched on, expecting a brawl to break out. Instead, Derma whispered something into Frost's ear before carelessly dropping him back into the cockpit. Without saying a word to his comrade, the Arcosian ran to the back of the ship, where a short while later he came back out with something in his hand. Sansho prepared to object, but Frost merely shushed him. He then flew back up and put the small object into Derma's palm. His neutral expression turned into a smile before he floated off the ship.
"He didn't want anything else?" Sansho asked as Frost piled back into the pilot's seat.
"No, he said the rest of our loot had no worth to him." his partner-in-crime replied. Sansho was a bit confused, but considering the value of the particular object the stranger had stolen it was a little bit more understandable. They once more attempted to enter the hyper-drive, which to their pleasant surprise they were able to do now perfectly, free of Mamba's magic.
The serpentine duo were now the only ones left among the wrecked room. They looked around themselves before Mamba spoke.
"Now what?" she asked.
"We wait here." Derma replied. "Let the standard militias, private contractors and special forces come and go. Once they realize how much we eclipse them, they will be forced to send in their strongest warriors, alongside which Broly and Kale will surely be."
Mamba nodded before sitting down, leaning on the side of the luxurious throne before she began to take a nap. Derma himself sat directly on the chair which had been passed down through generations of kings and gods, his right leg crossed over the other. He lifted up his arm and unwrapped his fingers, revealing his ultimate prize: A pristine, emerald-green set of Potara earrings.
Champa's Planet
The fat, purple cat god Champa was laying on one of the chairs of his private suite, snacking on some bright red jelly with a spoon while laying on the sofa.. He was having trouble restraining himself from devouring the meal whole; his assistant Vados had been complaining about this more often recently, and he had been trying to fix the problem to mixed results. Right as he was thinking about this, the titular green-robed Angel came in through the doors of the wooden room, staff in hand.
"Derma is active again." she spoke in an uncharacteristically serious, monotone voice, not even bothering to greet Champa or otherwise address him before relaying the news. The Destroyer was off-put by the news, but he remained calm.
"So what?" he responded with slight indignation. "He's been hanging out on a lifeless planet for eons now. He could just be out to get some fresh air."
"He and Mamba just attacked the Royal Museum of the Divine. They're just sitting there as we speak."
Champa was now growing frustrated with his Angel's tone. "How is that my problem? I'm a God of Destruction, not an intergalactic babysitter. Plantayne's an amazing place, they can deal with it on their own."
"HE STOLE POTARAS, MASTER CHAMPA." Vados exclaimed, now almost bordering on an angry shout. She rec-omposed herself as best as she could before speaking again. "And he's just sitting there with them. You saw that mysterious Saiyan from Universe 7 come over here, and it isn't a coincident Derma became active again around that time. You know damn well what he's planning."
Champa looked as if he was about to retort, but he ultimately fell silent. The two just stared at each other. Vados, calmed even further but still nervous, spoke up again.
"Look Master, I get it. Derma was your teacher, he's the one who brought you to this position, he was the only one who believed you had the talent for the job when everyone was hyping up Beerus back in the day. But there's a reason why he was expelled from the pantheon. No matter his intentions, he's still a danger to the entire multiverse."
"I need to think this over." Champa replied.
"We don't have time to think it over, you have to take action-"
"I SAID I NEED TO THINK THIS OVER." and with that, Champa left the room through the window and flew away in a fuss.
Vados was disappointed but not surprised at the reaction. She knew that when Champa said he would "think about" something, it really meant that he did not intend to take any serious action. With a sigh and with her master nowhere in sight, she waved her staff in the air. A cloud of cyan dust appeared in front of her, eventually giving way to the vaint visage of a person in some sort of dark location.
"Hello there." she said to the mirage, catching its attention. It looked directly at Vados before replying.
"Lord Vados? What business do you have with me?"
"I need you to do a little favor for me." She then gave Derma and Mamba's names, physical descriptions and their background.
"Hm. This sounds like a rough job, but I'll figure something out." the shadowy figure on the other end replied. "Rest assured, I will eliminate my target."