Saiyan Saga - Part 2: Resilience
The world seemed to slow. The air grew heavy. The Saiyan's laughter seemed to be twisted and diluted, each movement of his lips sounding deeper, more intense.
But perhaps nothing could distract Yamcha from the sight of his deceased friend. Krillin's body, charred by Raditz's deadly attack, remained perfectly still and motionless. His best friend's chest wasn't even moving in the slightest.
Yamcha knew what that meant. And he didn't want to believe it.
'He-He's… gone...'
"So… that was it, huh?" came a loud voice that instantly shattered the reticent a atmosphere that had come upon the battlefield. His voice was as cold and callous as it always had been, even in the face of a cold-blooded murder that he'd committed. "After all that spirit he had, I would've expected more from him. Shame."
Tears openly flowed, and Yamcha made no attempt to stop them. For a moment, he was the only man in the world. Everyone else was paralyzed with fear, abject horror having overtaken them to the point where they could not react. Raditz remained motionless, those same eyes staring him down.
"You… you have to… pay…" Yamcha closed his glistening eyes, his fist trembling with blue energy as he slammed it into the pavement of the city, breaking the terrain below him and causing a small quake. "I… I can't let you get… get away with this…"
Raditz smiled. "It seems killing one of you brings out that warrior spirit in another. By the time I reach the last of you, I wonder… just how determined will you be to take me down?"
Yamcha ignored the verbal jab, his eyes still locked onto Krillin's fallen corpse. It remained just as still as it had been since the ex-monk's passing, the only movement being his belt as it flailed around softly in the wind.
'N-No… not like this.' Yamcha, almost as if he were on autopilot, began a slow, sloppy, and somber stride toward his best friend. He almost tripped a few times here and there, but willpower kept him going. Then, once he was in close enough proximity to his friend, he fell to his knees in pure emotion.
"Krillin, man…" Yamcha started, the scar-faced warrior's tears sliding off his face and soaking the deceased warrior's chest. "I-I… I'm sorry.
"I love you.
"You were th-the last… I had of the Turtle…" Yamcha sniffled, emotion getting to him. "With Roshi and Master Gohan gone, you were all I had left. And now… I'm all alone…
"You were my brother. The only person who could trust me straight from the start. And now…. now you're gone… I-I…"
Nobody, not even Raditz, moved the slightest inch. It seemed that, despite his wicked ways, even the Saiyan warrior could respect the concept of honoring the fallen.
"I'm sorry. I love you," Yamcha repeated, out of anything else to say. If there was some being up above that allowed Krillin to hear anything he'd said, he wanted nothing more than those five words to be how his best friend remembered him by.
He grasped his best friend's dome-shaped head and pulled it close to him, weeping over his best friend's fallen body. He didn't care if he was leaving himself open for attack—there was no way he could live with himself if he did not pay his respects to the one man who kept his morale high. 'Without Krillin, we wouldn't have killed Piccolo. He's the only reason why… why I knew I could be strong, even without the greatest martial artists in the world…'
He suddenly looked upward and at his friends' forms. Bulma had already broken down into hysterics long before he had, her wails bursting through her robotic suit as clear as day. Launch, despite her tough frame, shed a few tears before furiously wiping them away. Neither Chi-Chi nor Yajirobe could even look at the sight of Krillin's body, though their trembling figures told the whole story.
And far away, even though he had fallen, his body all but broken, Tien even found the energy to sit up and hang his head for the Earth's unofficial leader for one brief moment before his body gave out on him again.
That was when Yamcha felt something within him. It was familiar; he'd felt it before when Tambourine had dealt Bulma severe pain, yet it seemed incredibly stronger now. His inner demons had been expunged from his body, which had usually served as the catalyst for this inhumane drive, but his best friend dying – with no way of bringing him back due to the Dragon Balls being inert – was enough to trigger a whole new well of anger for him to harness.
"I won't fall into what I used to be. I'm… I'm past that now.
"But you killed my best friend, and while I can't raise him from the dead, I'm going to fight and kill you with both of our spirits."
Yamcha sprang toward his opponent at top speed, his movements crisp and fluent—no longer shackled by rage, he could more clearly focus on his opponent. His hellbent fury was translated into his two fists as he fired them off with the speed of akimbo machine guns, Raditz being forced to parry them away with more of his power than he'd previously exerted. 'Hmmm… perhaps this could be a challenge after all. If the others manage to fight with an intensity like this… I may actually get a nice workout.'
A slight twitch in the air alerted Raditz to the sudden arrival of Chi-Chi, her feet moving with incredible speed as she whittled away at Raditz's defenses as well. It took him more and more effort to not get tangled up in all these attacks, but he was getting a thrill out of it—he loved the challenge.
"Try as you might… I'm a top class warrior!" Raditz immediately phased out of sight, leaving Yamcha and Chi-Chi with their limbs awkwardly extended, before he returned to their vision directly across from them; his leg was outstretched as he dashed toward them with frightening speed. In one swift movement, he connected with the heel of his foot against Chi-Chi's ribcage before moving that very same leg to the right, crashing his boot against Yamcha's nose.
Raditz landed on the ground neatly as the remaining three fighters in Bulma, Yajirobe, and Launch all soared toward him. He cracked a smile.
'Well, if I can thank you for one thing, little brother, it's that this trip of mine won't be such a waste after all.'
Darkness had enveloped him, and for a moment, there was nothing. He could not speak. He could not think. He could not feel. He could not even describe himself as there, even. Where was he? He didn't know… and for that matter, there was no way he could have known.
After what could have been several eternities or possibly just a fraction of a second, Krillin regained his senses. His eyes felt as if they were opening for the very first time, and almost immediately he would look down to confirm that the rest of his body had followed him without any mutilations at all. It was if he hadn't even been killed at all—but Krillin knew otherwise. There was no mistaking that sense of hopelessness that ran through his body in conjunction with the searing pain of Raditz's blast; he knew that despite this apparent optical illusion, he was surely dead.
He was then jolted out of his thoughts by a loud, raspy voice. Startled, the bald warrior shot his head up and looked at a sea of alabaster clouds traveling down what appeared to be a red and green carpet toward a red, green, and white house with multiple horns protruding from other side of the roof. It was odd to say the very least, but what stuck out to him the most was the multitudinous number of clouds that surrounded the entire area—and a closer look revealed that, somehow, an ogre-resembling blue figure shouting toward these clouds to approach this "Check-In Station" was actually standing on these clouds.
'Well, that all but says it right there… I'm definitely dead. I've only heard of someone being able to stand on a cloud like the Flying Nimbus before, but I bet things are completely different in the next dimension,' Krillin thought to himself, crestfallen. 'I really failed them, didn't I…? I fought so hard to save everyone, and even though we managed to beat Piccolo, the world's still doomed...'
"Hey! You over there!"
Krillin refocused his attention on reality – or whatever this realm could be called – and found that the blue-skinned man, surprisingly well-dressed in formal attire, was calling out at him. "Yeah, you! C'mon, don't hold up the line!"
He wasted little time in hurrying along, his shoes hitting the carpet softly as he began to, in the ogre's words, 'proceed in an orderly fashion toward the Check-In Station.' During this time, though, his mind wasn't fully there. There were so many questions he needed to be answered before he could allow himself to come to terms with his fate, and yet judging by how rapidly this line was moving, there was so little time to have them answered.
Eventually, however, Krillin began to edge ever closer to the door of the large building. He noted that the few ogres who seemed to serve as monitors did a double take as they saw him, but just a moment later their eyes would leave him to scrutinize the remainder of the never-ending line of clouds.
'I, uh, I guess they were looking at me because I have a body? Or can I only just see myself and everyone else is blocked out?' Krillin was sure if his deceased body could sweat, it surely would have by now. 'I thought that when you died, everything just… blacked out. I didn't expect for there to be something like this at all.'
Finally, his time had come. After what had been several long minutes of an emotional rollercoaster, Krillin knew his destiny was about to be decided. He walked forward hesitantly, nervously, his legs trembling as if they were going to give out on him at any given second. To say he was frightened out of his boots would be an understatement.
Upon his entering the Check-In Station, Krillin noticed a handful of those blue ogres were sprawled throughout the room. There was no doubt that they were employed by whoever ran this process, and judging by the looks of things, the gargantuan figure sitting at a desk proportionate to his height was surely that employer. He resembled the ogres in physical features, yet their skin tones seemed to be complete contrasts of one another; his skin was a red shade as opposed to that of the workers' light blue. His limbs, including the two horns that protruded from his massive purple hat, were naturally much longer than that of the ogres as well.
'Even though this guy looks big and he can decide my fate… I have no reason to be scared,' Krillin tried to mentally convince himself, though he was certain that nothing would assuage his subconscious enough to relax. 'He's no King Piccolo, that's for sure.'
With a slight additional modicum of confidence, the deceased warrior continued to make his way into the room. Naturally, as anyone would do upon entering a new environment, he looked around to get a feel for his surroundings.
Then he saw him.
And he panicked.
"P-PICCOLO?!" the ex-monk hollered in disbelief, all eyes on him in a matter of moments. He flinched when he realized all eyes immediately shot to him, but the only pair of eyes he focused on was the monster that had plagued him for years and years on end. Though he was garbed differently than he was on Earth and his facial features were as aged as they'd been during his initial appearance, Krillin could see nothing other than the demon responsible for taking the world he'd loved and devolving it under his rule.
Naturally, his first instinct would be to charge the demon out of paranoia, shock, and confusion. As any normal human being would, he did just that.
What he did not expect, however, was for Piccolo to keep a stoic face and merely flick him on the forehead. The attack sent him right back onto his hide pathetically, and as he rubbed his head in pain, he could hear a booming voice pierce his eardrums.
"You idiot! How could you mistake someone like Kami for King Piccolo?!" bellowed the loud voice, nearly deafening Krillin almost immediately. Looking up revealed to him that the large figure, the head honcho, was speaking… and he looked absolutely livid.
"Forgive him, King Yemma—he would have no way of knowing who I am." The Piccolo doppelganger, evidently named Kami, closed his eyes. "I have been under circumstances that prohibit my intervention in current matters on Earth, which means I haven't had any contact with young Krillin beforehand. It's only natural that he associates me with King Piccolo… merely because, Krillin," he looked straight at the ex-monk, "I am associated with the demon king."
His anger curbed, Krillin hung his head. "It's my fault… sorry. Just a few minutes ago, I was killed when I thought the world was so close to surviving. I'm not exactly one hundred percent right now."
"It is respectable," Kami affirmed. "In fact, that's exactly why I'm here right now. I, much like you, have been involved in Earth's events… though, ultimately, I'm sure you can tell we have played very contrasting roles. However, as tough as it may be to consider, there are graver dangers lurking on the horizon…
"And that is exactly why fate has played right into our hands for the first time in eight years."
Raditz swiftly backhanded Launch away from him in time to intercept a metallic punch, heaving the robotic figure up and over his shoulder before accenting the throw with a powerful punch to the small of the suit's back, sending Bulma flying away at incredible speeds. He paid her no heed, however, and quickly turned his head to the right to find Launch still desperately racing toward him, arm positioned for a wicked cross. He was in perfect position to neatly block the attack with his forearm, but a swift burst of energy slammed against his back, disorienting him long enough for the blonde to connect with aforementioned punch.
"Take this, ya bastard!" Launch shrieked, her harsh voice nearly cracking. She unleashed a furious combination of strikes against the extraterrestrial threat, pounding him as if there was no tomorrow. It wasn't long before Yamcha joined the fray again, having been the one to have blasted Raditz prior, outnumbering the space fighter.
Still, though, it mattered little when one considered the enormous power gap between the Saiyan and the Earthlings.
"Your battle skill is admirable!" Raditz lauded, beginning to grow familiar with their attack patterns and starting to weave and wade his way through the maelstrom of blows. "I can understand why you ragtag weaklings managed to beat the green man… but unfortunately for you, I'm stronger than he could ever hope to be! HYAH!" His boot shot out with incredible force, gutting Launch with incredible power. She hit the ground faster than Raditz could strike Yamcha and send him following her trajectory, and as she rolled upward to try and enter the battle again, she soon found herself being smacked down again—this time by Yamcha's body.
"When will you learn?" Raditz called out to the ground, crossing his arms haughtily. "Every time you gang up on me is another chance I have to exploit you against one another! You're wasting your time, you know—there's no possible way you could ever defeat a top-class warrior like me! Hahahaha—HUH?!"
Just barely, out of the corner of his green-tinted eye, Raditz detected Yajirobe's movement, piercing sword in hand. It took everything the Saiyan had in him to shift his body in time to avoid the blade, yet a narrow gash opened up on the side of his back. He hadn't been fast enough.
"C-Crap!" Yajirobe gaped, but just as he was about to up and scurry away at top speed as he would always do, he refocused himself. He tightened the grip on his blade. 'I, I gotta do somethin'! There ain't no more waitin' out the clock, Yajirobe; it's go time!'
He rushed forward again, the tip of his blade extended as he sliced straight at Raditz's arm. 'C'mon… this has to do something, dammit!'
'That hurt.'
Raditz scowled, feeling the ever painful sensation that had grown familiar to him over the years. Many a warrior had attempted to pierce his body with their foreign blades during his time in the Planet Trade, yet none had succeeded in dealing him any critical damage.
That would not change today.
The Saiyan warrior would play no games as he charged a fist with hot pink energy and crashed his fist against the samurai's katana, sending it flying to the earth below where it landed with a loud CLANG.
"Time's up," Raditz darkly said, extending his palm out. "You can make this as easy or as difficult as you want to. Although… I think we've already covered what option I'd prefer." He grinned deviously. "Of course, I think your decision was already made before I even popped the question… you stupid little Earthling."
Yajirobe gulped. Raditz could tell just by one look in the ronin's eyes that he knew he was a goner. 'I suppose it's time to confirm his fears… and lay this entire conquest to rest once and for all!'
"Get away from him!"
Raditz snarled in frustration, whipping his head over to the side. Just across from him hovered Yamcha, his hands cupped at his hips. A small sphere of light began to flicker to life betwixt his palms, signaling that the human had no intentions of submitting quite yet. "You won't get away with what you've done, you monster!"
As the space fighter focused in on the power source, his scouter began to rapidly emit a chorus of acute chirps and beeps. For a brief moment, the Saiyan's eyes widened. "Impressive… he's able to concentrate all his energy into a single focal point, which only serves to make his attack stronger." Suddenly, Raditz smiled. 'Hmm. Perhaps I did underestimate these Earthlings, if only by a little.'
"Yajirobe, get out of the way!" Yamcha shouted, his attack fully formed. He surely knew that his friend would be caught in the crossfire of whatever attack he had in store. To his credit, he swiftly dove toward the ground and placed his arms over his head pathetically as if it would actually save him. As soon as he had fully moved out of the way, the long-haired warrior's full attention was casted on Raditz. "Now take this! Kamehameha!"
The wave of light roared as it burst forth from Yamcha's palms, its azure coloring lighting up Raditz's vision as it drew ever closer to him. Still, however, the Saiyan remained relatively calm in the face of this threat. He merely extended one hand forward. "Let's see what you've got—AARGH!"
The beam had made perfect contact with the crease of Raditz's left palm, exploding violently against its target. The resulting explosion threw up a small amount of smoke, but upon dispersal it was painfully evident that Raditz had taken no lasting damage from the attack.
"You know, all of your combined efforts are causing me some bits of pain here and there," Raditz objectively commented, acting almost as if he wasn't currently partaking in a fight to the death. "Had you all been a bit stronger, your tricks really would've pulled some lasting damage. Unfortunately for you… you aren't."
Yamcha, in between bursts of ragged panting, glared at Raditz with all the emotional energy he could muster. "If I'm going to die… then I'm going to hurt you as much as I can, damn it… I owe nothing less to Krillin…"
Upon hearing the Earthling's attempt to motivate himself once more, Raditz sighed. "And here we go again… still droning on and on about that one I murdered, I see. I'd be more worried about saving your own hide than worrying about avenging someone who's dead."
"You… you wouldn't understand, would you…?" Yamcha narrowed his eyes, fists clenching. "You're an alien—a 'Saiyan warrior.' You probably only care about your next big sale on some planet."
"We Saiyans believe that we should honor the fallen. However, we don't harp on others' demises nearly half as much as you do. You grow used to loss and death when you're in a business like this one. You, however… you all worry about each and every little thing. It's pathetic. Tell me…" Raditz looked down at the still cowering Yajirobe, thrusting a palm down at him. "What would be your first reaction if I told you I was going to blast this swordsman into oblivion?"
Almost on instinct, Yamcha rushed toward Raditz with everything he had. He could barely swing at his opponent, each movement of his arms feeling incredibly sluggish, but he still did not quit. Raditz waited for his opportune moment to strike, and when the long-haired fighter lingered just a little too long on a right hook, he pounced with a punishing jab of his own and a heavy headbutt to the human's upper skull. The impact sent him flying back, bleeding heavily, before the Saiyan phased behind the still-hurtling Yamcha and smacked him down with a spin kick.
Raditz folded his arms neatly as Yamcha smashed into the ground, the impact sending him burrowing through the city streets before he came to a halt perhaps ten or twenty feet underground. It was clear that the long-haired fighter would be a part of this battle no longer.
"As predicted," he snidely remarked with a chuckle. He then returned his attention to Yajirobe, who still hadn't moved in the slightest, almost as if he was paralyzed. "It's about time I put this little game to rest. Toying with you lot has been fun, but you know what they say: work comes before pleasure."
Near the outskirts of the city lay a blue-colored suit, banged and dinged up as a product of the battle it'd partaken in, perfectly motionless. It had only a small portion of power remaining within it, and though it would surely be enough to manage one last surprise attack, its owner knew it would do little but prolong their inevitable destruction.
'D-Darn it…' Bulma internally grimaced, watching as her former lover was incapacitated by Raditz yet again. 'He's just… too strong…! After all we've done… is it really supposed to end this way?'
A tear fell from her eye, making its slow but sure descent down her cheek until it landed on her black stockings. Several more would follow as a result of uncertainty, as an expression of her helplessness. Earth was going to die a painful death today, and there was nothing she herself could do to stop it. If not even the combined might of her friends could do it, then there was nothing left.
It was simply… all over.
Suddenly, she heard a faint knocking on the glass. Her heart practically stopped as she expected Raditz, the tormentor of worlds, to toy with her emotions further… but she would breathe a heavy sigh of relief when she found that it was Chiaotzu that had located her.
With a single button, she opened the visor that separated the two. "Ch-Chiaotzu… what're you doing here?" she asked, her voice carrying a demoralized undertone. "He doesn't know you exist yet… there's still a little time for you to run if you want…"
Chiaotzu's face hardened, a stark contrast to the frightful soul he'd been only eight years ago. "No! No way! I'm not going to leave everyone here to die! If Earth's going to be wiped out, then I want to be with my friends knowing that I did my best to save it!"
"Well… you're here with us now, I guess…" Bulma morosely noted. In her mind, there was simply nothing that could be done. "If you want to say your goodbyes to everyone else, now's probably your best bet… who knows the order he'll kill us in."
The imp adamantly stood – or, rather, hovered – his ground. "Not just yet. I came to you for a reason, Bulma… because I have an idea."
"What's the point?" she harshly snapped back. "Don't you see what kind of power this guy has? Piccolo put you down in one hit. What makes you think you're going to be able to do anything different against the guy that tossed him around with no effort at all?"
Chiaotzu looked down for the briefest of moments. His gaze returned to the heiress not long after. "I have something in mind… and if it doesn't work, then we can say for sure that we tried everything in the book. Besides, you owe me this one thing… without me, you wouldn't have your leg all fixed up again."
"...All right," Bulma said, caving in. "But why me? You know that I'm nowhere near as smart in fights as everyone else is. Literally anyone would've been a better choice."
"You fighting in your suit gives you something everyone else doesn't have... two 'lives.' Even though that's all banged up, you still have your own pure energy to fall back on." He looked back up toward Raditz, who loomed over Yajirobe tauntingly with a sphere of pink energy. "This monster's been able to get away with too much already. I won't be able to live with myself if I don't give it all I have to stop him."
A chord was stricken within Bulma as she remembered having said something eerily similar prior to their battle with Piccolo. Waves of emotion rolled through her, drowning her hopelessness, giving her one last burst of morale.
"I'm in. What's the plan?"
Chiaotzu beamed for a moment before he turned serious again in the quickest of emotional switches. "When someone's focusing, their senses are more in tune with the rest of the world. They can see better, hear better... it's like a temporary boost. The same goes for gathering energy too... if I tried to sneak up on him right now, there's no way he wouldn't notice me."
"That's where I come in, right?" Bulma asked. As a scientist, she understood Chiaotzu's explanation fairly well, but something didn't quite add up. "I'm guessing that I'm going to help you take away his focus somehow... although if I just try flying up to him, wouldn't he still be concentrating his energy when he just punches me right back down?"
"Yup," Chiaotzu quickly affirmed. "That's why you're not going to do that."
Bulma sweatdropped. "If I'm not going to attack him, then what's stopping him from killing me?"
"Nobody thinks right when they're angry. That can translate into fighting skill too. Only the most mentally powerful martial artists can separate their anger from power, and judging by how sloppy this guy hits, I'm willing to bet he can't do that at all."
"I think I get what you're saying. If I taunt the guy, he won't exactly be able to react as quickly as he normally would. Come to think of it, that's probably why we've lasted as long as we have... we're appealing to his ego somehow..."
"I'd bet, yeah," Chiaotzu agreed. He glanced back up at Raditz, whose energy sphere was nearing completion. "But we don't have much time. Yajirobe's going to die if we don't act now... so I hope you've got something in mind."
"I'm the only one of us who's had a real education on psychology," Bulma smirked. "I think I've got something in mind."
"You really deserve credit for your swordsmanship, you know," Raditz laughed sadistically. "Really, you've got better aim than most of the idiots who wielded blades against me in the past. Unfortunately, I'm just that much stronger than you... something which I'm sure this attack will show off."
"I-I don't need your praise, dang it!" Yajirobe spluttered out without thinking. "If you're gonna kill me, then just do it, dammit! I'm tired of my head bein' toyed around with!"
"As you wish," Raditz darkly smiled, drawing back his hand. "Saturday..."
"Hey, Rat-tits!"
Raditz's eyes dilated to twice their usual sizing as he whipped his head to the side, finding the blue-haired woman hovering a handful of feet away from him. "Yeah, that's right. I'm talking to you! That long hair of yours isn't just girlish… it's downright disgusting!"
The space fighter, turning his attention away from Yajirobe, scowled. "A true Saiyan warrior doesn't worry about menial things like hair length. What we concern ourselves with is battle power… the same battle power that will be exterminating this entire damn planet!"
Bulma merely smirked at Raditz's threat, unfazed. Her experience with her temper and trash-talking in general was proving to help her on the battlefield more than she'd ever thought possible. "Well, you sure don't seem to concern yourself with personal style either! That track-suit is atrocious!"
Raditz's eye twitched. 'This infernal woman… two can play at this game!' Normally he wouldn't bother with hurling insults back and forth like a little child, but to think that a general Earthling could one-up him in anything was an incredible insult to his pride. "Battle armor like ours increases our resiliency! Your ragtag clothing only shows what a pitiful, idiotic race you fools make up!"
"At least we know enough to not wear such an ugly eyepiece! There's a reason a lot of people don't like wearing glasses, you know!"
"If you think this is a mere lens, you're sadly mistaken." Raditz tapped the eyepiece in question. "This is what's known as a scouter, and it's fairly well-known around the universe for its power-reading and communicative capabilities… but considering what a backwater planet Earth is, I suppose I can let that slide."
Though her scientific nature was intrigued by the nature of the scouter, Bulma did not outwardly show it. Naturally, she had bigger concerns at the moment. "Okay, I can at least understand why you wear it then. But to be honest, I'm surprised someone as primitive as you look knows how to use something so complex!"
"Primitive!? You stupid woman…!"
"Well yeah, your tail doesn't exactly scream civilized, y'know," Bulma shrugged mockingly. "Frankly, I find it interesting enough that you've evolved to stand on two legs instead of four.. like a simple-minded monkey." She let her voice hang on that final word, almost giggling as she watched Raditz's temper boil over. She had him in the palm of her hand and she knew it. 'Funny how the weakest of us manages to outfox the strongest guy we've ever faced… maybe I should use this kind of thing more often.'
By the time she'd finished her thought, she had only a moment to realize that Raditz had advanced upon her, mouth fouler than a sailor. In that moment all she could do was fire off an energy blast straight into his stomach. In any other instance, he would've been able to anticipate it and deflect it easily, but his enraged state of mind left him fully prone to the attack. It slammed straight into his ribcage and sent him flying backward, his mouth still swearing up a storm even as he fully dissipated the blast with his hand.
"I… have had enough… of your petty little words!" Raditz thrust out his palms and gathered crackling purple energy within them at a frightening rate. "I will erase you from this world right now!"
A small amount of pressure suddenly made itself known on his back.
"Gotta… get up…
"I need… to… move…
"Everyone… they need me…"
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
Darkness.
The air around him was cold. Freezing, even. He laid in the snow with his three eyes facing the beautiful skyline, basking in the glow of daylight. Snow fell from the sky in a graceful, serene motion, accentuating the winter atmosphere with its own special touch.
However, the environment around him was far from peaceful. The chilled air began to nip at his shirtless chest, contracting his muscles and causing him spirals of pain to run up and down his body.
It was then when Tien realized… he was helpless. A warrior like him… was helpless to face even the most simple of scenarios. His body could not move on its own due to the inhumane amount of stress that had been placed upon him, and now he was helpless. In his mind, he would face his own doom.
"...Tien."
An ethereal light began to shimmer in the sky, whirling around like a portal would. After a few seconds, a ladder shot straight out of it and descended to the snow in record time.
"...Tien."
Without question, he knew just exactly whose voice that was. And without question, he would do everything he could to will his body onward to protect the owner of that same voice.
Dragging himself toward the ladder was no easy task. It took everything within his very soul just to move, much less crawl. It seemed as if it was taking him hours and hours upon end before he could make it…
...and he finally did.
His hands clasping either side of the metallic ladder, Tien used it as leverage to pull himself up. The gentle snowshower was beginning to contort into something more vicious… hail was beginning to drop out of the sky, pelting his skin.
But he would not quit. He prioritized ascending the ladder before anything else.
His climb took him far, and as he gained altitude his body began to feel more and more strain inflicted upon it. The hail was now escalating into a full on blizzard, the freezing ice forcing Tien to grit his teeth in pain as he continued his ascent, his hands and feet numb.
Just as he was about to reach the pinnacle, he heard a voice call out to him.
"...Goodbye, Tien."
His eyes snapped open.
"CHIAOTZUUUUUUUUU!"
Moments earlier…
Yajirobe's breath was caught in his throat. His body felt as if it was being shackled down by the heaviest of weights. To say he was frightened would be the understatement of the century—he was mortified by the Saiyan's sheer might. 'He's taken all we got… and he's barely hurt at all! It took something like Tien's little trick to even hurt him… so what's left, dammit? We…' He shut his eyes, waiting for the end. 'We need a miracle!'
Moments passed. He was still among the living, and oddly enough, Raditz had not even fired his attack yet. He was tempted to open his eyes to find out what had transpired—
"What the hell? Get off me, you parasite!"
Immediately Yajirobe's heart fluttered with the possible notion of a higher being hearing his prayers. His eyes snapped open, and to his shock and astonishment, that prayer had been answered in the form of Chiaotzu. The emotion, combined with his physical injury, caused him to promptly pass out.
But that did not mean the action stopped. If anything, it was just heating up. The imp had attached himself to Raditz's armored back, gripping onto the space fighter's mane of hair tightly as his adversary flailed about in an attempt to free himself.
But it was not to be. No matter how many times Raditz zig-zagged through the air or clawed at his tiny opponent, Chiaotzu refused to let go. Even ramming himself into the ground wouldn't cause the Crane student to falter in his grip.
"C-Chiaotzu, no!" Yamcha cried out, only just having regained his senses fully. "It's not fair—he can't be stopped!" He averted his gaze from the sight, tears once again threatening to fall from his eyes.
"No! Don't look away!"
Yamcha looked toward the now recovered Piccolo, who, despite looking the worse for wear, stood tall. "Honor his bravery!"
"Y-You… you call it bravery when you forced your sons into doing the same for you!" Yamcha verbally jabbed, pointing an accusing finger at his hated rival. "You're a damn hypocrite, Piccolo! Your words are nothing more than cheap lies! R-Right, Bulma?"
Folding his arms, Piccolo paid the ex-bandit no heed. Bulma did not speak a single word either; both of their attention spans had been cast on Chiaotzu and Raditz's deadly dance in the air. The former was beginning to adorn a mysterious blue hue of light, and it was only then when Piccolo finally spoke up. "Then explain to me… what you would call an action that wins us the battle."
"W-What?!" Bulma exclaimed, though her attention was immediately flickered over to the action. 'Come to think of it, it does look like Chiaotzu's trying to steer the Saiyan away from everyone else… but he's not going to do what I think he's going to—'
Piccolo spared Yamcha and Bulma one single glance, and in what could have either been a sign of respect or confirmation, he nodded once.
Reality set in for the three of them.
Raditz ascended into the sky, determined to rid himself of the clown-faced warrior currently attached to his mane of hair. 'If nothing else will do it, I'll break his damn skull off this fall—I'd like to see a runt like him survive that.'
Little did he know, Chiaotzu had plans to end their little struggle as well—albeit severely different ones. His energy concentration reaching his zenith, he knew it was now or never.
'Tien. We've been through so much together—not just these last few years, but for as far back as I can remember. If I never see you again… take care, best friend.
'Goodbye, Tien.'
A triptych of Crane-trained eyes opened in one moment.
A pair of Crane-trained eyes closed forever in the next.
As a result of these two similar yet contrasting events, a bond was broken that had lasted as far back as the two Crane students could remember.
A flash of light illuminated the morning sky, rippling through the battlefield and summoning up heavy gusts of wind that blew harshly throughout the fallen city. Twenty seconds went by as the heavy maelstrom of light swept through, forcing Yamcha and Piccolo to cover their eyes, before it finally died down.
As they opened their eyes, they could see Raditz's injured form, his armor half destroyed, drifting pathetically towards the ground.
But they also noticed… that Chiaotzu was gone.
Tien's cries of anguish, of loss, would resound around the battlefield a moment later.
Tien immediately stormed up to Yamcha, Bulma, and Piccolo, surveying the damage Raditz had done to them with a blank face. He could see an unconscious Chi-Chi, still covered with welts and bruises as a result of her bravery, and reaching out with his energy informed him that she was still alive and well—injured, perhaps, but not fatally.
But what he did not need to see with his own eyes to confirm was, regrettably the death of his best friend. He was a moment too late to rejoin the conscious world around him, and it had cost him what could have been precious time trying to convince his friend to cease his self-implosion. The reward of his sacrifice, however, was undeniable.
Earth had finally been freed.
And Tien knew that, despite his best friend's refusal to stay back, he could not feel angered at him. What he had done demonstrated such a love and respect for all of Earth's creatures that would be remembered as unparalleled; he was willing to give up his own life to keep them all alive. Because of him, the blue and green planet would surely live to see another day.
He was nothing short of a true hero.
"Chiaotzu… my best friend…" Tien murmured softly to himself, a faint smile slowly crossing his lips. It had taken him a moment, but what had been despair soon translated into gratitude. The sacrifice his best friend had made was irreversible, an impossible deed to return in kind, but the ramifications it would have on the world was truly undeniable.
"Thank you. For everything."
Everyone stood silent for several moments, mourning the fallen psychic who had given his life to ensure theirs remained in the world of the living.
A twitch of the fingers.
"W-Wait…" Yamcha blanched, pointing an index finger over at Raditz's body. "I-Is he still…?"
A brief groan of semi-consciousness.
"That's impossible—this can't be!" Piccolo gaped in horror.
A pair of eyes opened.
"How could he have…?!" Tien paled.
A pair of fists clenched.
"He's… he's immortal, isn't he…?" Bulma spluttered out.
Raditz finally returned to the world of the coherent, his rage incensed.
"That little twerp… pulled a fast one on me," Raditz ferally growled as he rose to his feet, dazed enough that he had to take his time to do so. He knew he'd been played, and what angered him was that he hadn't been smart enough to see it. "My power… it's dangerously low—no band of losers like this should be able to hurt me, especially not this much!
"But I will still… have my revenge… on you pieces of trash..."
As he made it to his feet, his opponents were absolutely dumbfounded. They surely knew that their bag of tricks had finally been exhausted, the last of their morale ultimately drained away. He had been able to stand in the face of every single modicum of resistance Earth's forces had offered up, and it seemed they could give no more.
A perfect opportunity to end a battle from Raditz's perspective.
His eyes focused on his targets, his concentration absolute, the Saiyan warrior prepared to end the Earthlings' feeble struggle without any hesitation.
Just as Earth's fate was about to be sealed forever, a baritone voice emitted from Raditz's scouter.
"Well, well, Raditz. I don't think I like what I'm hearing out of your mouth."
Raditz's eyes widened. He could literally hear his heart beating from within his chest as his Saiyan comrade's gravelly voice rang through his scouter.
"V-Vegeta…"
Merry Christmas, everyone, and to those reading this a day late, happy Boxing Day! ...And if you're reading this any later, then a Happy New Year to you! ...And if you're reading this any later, then I've got nothing for you. Sorry. December's just a festive month.
Anyway, onto the chapter's notes. First and foremost, thanks to a very special friend of mine for helping out with this chapter. The scene where Bulma insults Raditz in an attempt to enrage him was co-written by SpiderLedgic, with whom I occasionally ask advice for and vice versa. He developed the idea and general draft for most of the insults(including the eternally hysterical Rat-tits); I merely cleaned them up in terms of word usage and grammatical precision. If you want, check out his current project Half-Remembered Dream, which, if nothing else, should be able to give you a Roshi-centric fix that Turbulence cannot. Also, it's edited by yours truly, so if you like my work… there's a 99% shot you'll like his.
One thing I would like to clear up is what I decided to do with Chiaotzu. Fanfic authors really like to give the humans boosts in credibility and give them "their time to shine," but more times than not they manage to completely leave Chiaotzu in the dark. I'm not the biggest fan of Chiaotzu myself, honestly, but it irks me to think that an author can just give everyone other than him these massive jumps in power and then essentially 'forget' about him in terms of story. As such, I knew that I wanted to give him at least something… and quite frankly, I don't think I could've given him a bigger achievement at the moment(although any potential influence his sacrifice may have had on the battle's outcome now matters little). He may not have been all that powerful and he can really only contribute in a few ways, but now it cannot be argued that the little guy had some use in the story. That being said, his tale, much like Krillin's(as you can clearly see), is not even close to finished yet. Earth still has its fair share of issues it will need to deal with in the future, as will Krillin and Chiaotzu now that they are deceased, and I am looking forward to exploring them later down the line.
Which brings me to my next thing: Namek exists. I am fully aware that my top protagonist is residing there. That being said, Earth had to take precedence over Namek for the last few chapters due to the sheer significance of the Piccolo battle. Nobody can deny that it was one that held a lot of emotional clout and some serious ramifications for the future, and to further highlight it, I strongly felt it prudent to allow it to stand alone from Namek. That being said, however, I have now set things up so that the denouement of both planets' current events can occur in one fell swoop… which means that Namek will indeed be returning in the next chapter.
However, regrettably, you will have to wait a considerable amount of time to see more Namek content... or, rather, any at all. The time has come, I'm afraid to say, for Turbulence's hiatus to begin. True to my word, now that the Raditz battle has ended, this story has seen its last update of the year and will now look toward 2015. I will begin production of the next few chapters as soon as possible, and once I get a respectable number of chapters done, I will return to you all with a weekly update schedule. As of the moment, it appears Wednesday will be the official release day, but remember that you have a good amount of time to change that with your votes if you want to have something different.
I feel as if I've closed the book on the first portion of this story, yet I know that there's so much more to come. We're still not even halfway through the Oppression Volume, in fact, but more importantly, you're now about to experience the stuff that inspired me to power through the Demon Saga. It's going to be something you won't want to miss, I promise you that.
Speaking of things you won't want to miss - Rott's Reviews(powered by Blogger) will now be more consistent with update projections and all the like, so I'd definitely subscribe to that on the sooner side. You'll also see more PM replies from me in regards to reviews, which I take full responsibility for falling behind with. But most importantly, you'll find a magical story in the works from this point onward, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I am and will continue to.
I love each and every one of you for making it this far in my story, and may you and your loved ones have some truly magical moments over the course of the holidays(or just in general if you're reading this later than most).
Till we meet again!
-ShMikeX: I am curious to the applicability of Piccolo from this point. Since he is still the evil mass murderer (and not his son) and there is no Gohan for him to bond with. It would be interesting to see a redemption arc for him though.
Make no mistake, Piccolo has not redeemed during this fight. He, more than anyone, understood that Raditz would curbstomp all of them into the next dimension if they hadn't formed an alliance. In a way, it's similar to how Piccolo made the offer to join Goku's side to fend off canon Raditz.
-king of desert: Your fanfic is the best dbz fanfic I have ever read. It is simply fantastic.I have some questions and requests.
1) Will piccolo jr. exist in your story?
I will be greatful to you if he did.I think he is an important character.
2) I think yamcha and krillin should be taking place of goku in the saiyan should make them as equals.
3) I hope that you do not make the humans, piccolo jr. and nail fall behind in terms of strength.
1. If he does exist in my story, it will obviously be later down the line. I will not say anything definitively one way or another, but it should be known that I generally dislike killing characters off permanently(as would have to be the case with King Piccolo) before I feel they have achieved the maximum development possible within my narrative.
2. While Yamcha and Krillin are certainly both pivotal characters, it would be unfair to have them both "take Goku's place." A key concept of Turbulence has always been how Earth fares with Goku absent, and to fully explore that notion means that I can't have any one or two characters, for lack of a better word, be Goku. Everyone has their part in the Z-Fighters, and I don't think I could've proven that any more than I did with Chiaotzu today.
3. I do not aim to portray the human or Namekian characters as powerful as the Saiyans are. That would be incredibly unrealistic in my eyes. However, they will have their own tricks to keep up and contribute, and even when their strength is fully outclassed... well, their roles in the story won't be ending. I'd like to think I've invested too much time in these characters already to toss them to the wayside.