Chapter 43: Rest in Peace

Hey, I've got some more fanart, this time of Break! Go check it out at thrubardockeyes' deviantART page. It's pretty cool. I love seeing my ideas brought to life as pictures, thanks to everyone who's done some (reminder to everybody: I-Am-So-Original and Fael955 are the other two awesome people who've done fanart, go to their dA now and tell them (this being all three of them) they're amazing. Because they are.)

Also, I'm holding a poll to find out what you guys want me to work on! Details at the end of this chapter.

Hercule sat in his sparse gym, downcast. A string of utterly destroyed punching bags lay on the floor, testament to the rage he'd taken out on the room. He sat silently on the edge of the central ring, going through the fight over and over. There really was nothing he could have done differently. His technique was flawless...Goku had just been too fast and strong to overcome. How could this have happened? I worked my whole life to climb to the top—to be the best in the world! And now it's meaningless?! Where's the justice in that? I don't deserve this! He looked up at the sound of footsteps.

"Hey, Dad." Videl waved cautiously as she approached.

"Oh, hi there, Videl..." Hercule sighed. "I...uh..."

She nodded, sensing the direction of his thinking. "I know." She sat down, squeezing his hand. "I feel the same way...kind of. But don't let it get you down, okay? It's not like you."

"But...what's just...it's not fair, Videl...it isn't..."

"Hey, hey." She looked up into her father's eyes, full of concern. "It's not their fault. They just wanted the truth known...they weren't trying to hurt us. I've talked to them, you know—they're ordinary, nice people. Please don't get bitter."

He sniffed. She's right. I have to be better than this, for her. Without her mother here...I'm all she's got. "All right. Do you understand, though? It's hard. I thought I was worth something, but it turns out I'm...weak. Useless."

"Aw, it isn't like that! Think about it!" Videl tapped her head. "99% of the people in the world are in the same boat as us. And of those 99%...who's the most skilled martial artist? Who, in other words, has a head start on catching up to these ki-users?"

"I...I didn't think of that..." he stroked his chin, contemplating. "Yeah...trying to improve is better than giving up, anyway, right?"

"Right! I know you can be number 1 again, Dad!" She beamed, but her thoughts were of a darker tone. It's mostly true...mostly. He has the potential to be one of the strongest humans in the world, but as for the saiyans...none of us will ever catch up to the likes of them. Still, he doesn't need to know that yet. He has to have hope, at least for now.

The roar of energy shook the afterlife training grounds, punctuated by the shouts signifying signature moves.

"Blitz cannon!"

"Hyper tornado!"

"Crusher ball!"

"Thunder flash!"

Seventeen gruelling minutes from the first blow, the dust settled. Pikkon, training weights discarded and wearing his simple martial arts outfit he'd had on underneath the weighted robes, stood shakily, panting, but on his feet. Raditz, great gashes scored into his armour and having lost the energy to maintain Super Saiyan, lay face-down in the dirt, in his own scorched crater.

Pikkon settled into a cross-legged sitting position. "That," he said wearily, "was the best fight I've had in three hundred years."

Raditz pulled his face out of the dirt, spitting out dust and shaking his waist-length hair out. "Wow...you're pretty strong. I have to admit, you didn't look like much at first, but you're really something."

Pikkon nodded. "Your appearance was...deceiving, too. I didn't expect it to be even close. With enough training here, you'll go far."

Raditz slowly sat up, sighing as his bruised limbs ached. "Well. That gives me a goal at least...I'll be looking for a rematch someday, you know."

Pikkon grinned. "I'll look forwards to it."

Raditz looked up, hearing the sound of an approaching ego. King Kai was hopping and skipping over to the pair of tired warriors. "Raditz! Stop getting yourself into fights, that's my job!"

"Uh...what?" As usual, the god's conversation was a step ahead of everyone else's, leaving Raditz baffled.

"Well, I was just over there arguing with the West Kai over there—he was saying Pikkon was stronger than you, but I disagreed. I guess he was right..." The familiar North Kai shrugged, looking forlorn. "At least you didn't last too much longer—we were about to start betting on the outcome!" He wandered off, shaking his head. It's a shame, really...I had this whole thing planned out...a grand tournament, a great spectacle to decide who's the strongest fighter in Otherworld, with all the afterlife watching! And these two settle it in less than half an hour, in some random field! No sense of occasion.

Raditz remained slightly confused as King Kai left. "Um...West Kai? Oh!" he noticed another portly figure approaching Pikkon, a god similar in appearance to King Kai, with purple skin, a single curled antenna and a monocle over his left eye. Well, I guess he did say there were others...the afterlife sure is a weird place...

Future timeline...

Androids Seventeen and Eighteen stood atop a rocky outcrop, looking down at the settlement below—now supplied with the food and shelter they'd need to last through the coming winter in a few months. As it turned out, 'infinite energy reactors' had simply meant that the androids would never fully run out of power—they could still get tired, and indeed they had. Seventeen's scarf was tied around his head to keep the sun off and Eighteen's jacket around her waist, both with their sleeves rolled up and dirt on their hands and faces for perhaps the first time.
Seventeen had grumbled and complained through the whole thing, but Eighteen could tell he wasn't serious—he wasn't going to refuse these people the help they needed.

"Hey..." he said, now that they had a spare minute. "Eighteen."

"Yeah?"

"Why did you want to come here? I mean, really?"

"I told you...to help these people those other versions of us spent all these years terrorising." She shrugged. "What's wrong with that?"

He shook his head. "You know what I mean...what made you decide? It's not the kind of decision most people make on the spur of the moment. Heroes maybe, true altruists, but let's face it, heroes we're not, as much as we try to avoid becoming the villains."

Eighteen paused, considering the question. "Do you remember being inside Cell?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah." Seventeen shivered. "Don't remind me."

"Try and describe the feeling."

"Well...it was like being lost in darkness, I guess..."

"I couldn't find myself..." She began to add to it, and soon they were finishing each other's statements.

"I couldn't find you, or anything familiar..."

"...just darkness. I could feel Cell's mind the whole time..."

"...a twisted, evil thing. He didn't care about anything except his own personal gain, and I realised..."

"...that was us. I was looking at what Dr. Gero intended for me, the goal that I was just a step towards...and it terrified me. We were so close to becoming just like him," she finished.

He nodded morosely. "I know what you mean...so you just wanted to reject Gero's ideas? Spite the old man?"

"Something like that. I decided to be the best I could...give my all to the exact opposite of what he and Cell stood for. But the past didn't need us. This world does."

"Right...we're free here. It's funny...the evil versions of us thought they had absolute freedom, but they still just played the roles set out for them. Come on, now." He turned to face the sun as it sank towards the horizon. "Let's forget what we were made for. Nobody can tell us what to do now." I guess that's all it's ever been about, really. Freedom.

Raditz knew this dream. It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last. But the ending...the ending was always different. Which would it be this time? What would he say?

He was in a corridor. It stretched out into infinity, into darkness. He knew, though, that if he kept walking he'd find the end, after a distance beyond distance, a time past time. And sure enough, an infinity passed in an instant. He stood at the end of the passage. A large stone door barred his path, and he heaved it open. Stone wasn't heavy for him in real life, but here it felt like lifting a city.

Through the door lay a large chamber, lit by flickering torchlight—but the source of the light was always out of sight. He never saw any torches or candles. He didn't bother looking for them, he'd had this dream enough. But this time...would this be different? It was the first time he'd slept since arriving in Otherworld. As it turned out, one of the consequences of keeping one's body in the afterlife was that it still required a living body's upkeep, albeit a reduced amount (only one meal a day and one sleep a week, for instance—an Otherworld body was much more energy-efficient).

The dream continued, as it always did. The room was bare but for a set of black stone steps in the centre, leading up to a throne, draped in animal furs, decorated with exotic skulls and shrouded in darkness. Face hidden in the shadows above, he sat on the throne, Raditz's only un-expelled demon of the past.

Bardock.

His father.

And this was where the dream always changed. Sometimes they'd talk, as if Bardock had never died. Sometimes the dream would simply end. Sometimes Bardock would turn away and leave, seeming disappointed. Still other times he'd simply sit there silent and unmoving until Raditz awoke. What would it be tonight?

Somehow...being dead...Raditz felt bolder. As if it put them on equal terms, in a strange way. This time—for the first time—he spoke first. "Father."

Bardock stirred. His face became visible as he leaned forwards. "The errant son returns...from the wayward path." The voice, its quality—it was him. It wasn't distant, or blurred by time and faulty memory, like usual. This was his father speaking to him.

"Are you...really here?" Raditz asked. "Now that I'm in the afterlife...is this really you? Or is it all in my head?"

Bardock shook his head. "Fool. It is both real and in your mind. You are in the realm of the mind now...there is no difference here."

"What happened to your soul? You weren't put into that...machine?"

"No. But nor could I pass into heaven...and neither was I pure enough of mind to count among the heroes or villains of legend. No, my soul was one of the unlucky few who were simply...lost. I am neither here nor there...in a way, I'm not even aware we're having this conversation. You're just percieving that we are."

"Why are you here? What's so important about this dream?" Raditz began to climb the steps.

"Simple..." Bardock shrugged. "I weigh on your mind. You've accepted that you're morally good...but you doubt your worth as a warrior. You know how I died...and you worry that you will never live up to me."

Raditz was shaken slightly by his father's blunt, brief manner. "Why? Why should I fear that?! Didn't I die in just a heroic a manner as you? Why should I fear your disapproval?!"

Bardock smirked. "Don't ask me. I am, after all, only here because you do fear it. Working out why is your task."

"Then what are you here for?"

"To test you." At that, Bardock sprang up, a right hook smashing Raditz across the face. As the long-haired saiyan tumbled back through the air, the world around him shifted. Planets and stars faded into view around them. Father and son hovered in the void of space. "To test me?!" Raditz growled, trying to gather his ki but finding it difficult for some reason. "What the hell is this?"

"Defend yourself!" Bardock ordered, charging again. Raditz blocked the older warrior's kick with his forearm, moving back to put distance between himself and his attacker. "Stop this, father! I don't want to fight you!"

"And that's your problem." Bardock pressed the attack, and his speed seemed to increase as his fists flew with unrelenting force. The fourth punch slipped through Raditz's guard, and he fell away again, grimacing. "What's the matter? I thought you'd outgrown this...or are you the same wimp that brought disgrace to my family on planet Vegeta?"

"No...NO!" Raditz lunged, but his fist stopped just short of Bardock's face. He hesitated, wavering, and in that moment Bardock grabbed his arm and threw him overhead, following with a two—footed kick to the back. "Better! But not good enough! Have years of fighting taught you nothing?"

Raditz forced himself upright. "I...I can't! I can't fight you, father!"

"That's because you know you'll win." Bardock spat. "The speed of that punch...I couldn't have blocked it. You still idolise me. I'm not a man to you, I'm your father...let go. Allow yourself to surpass me. You have surpassed me."

"I can't just...let go of you..." Raditz sniffed, wiping blood trickling from his nose. "Then what do I have left? What can I hold on to?"

"Yourself. Your friends. Your new family. There's no-one in the whole universe I'd rather have by my side than them. And you know...like Launch knows...that you'll meet again. Trust yourself for once, all right? You're not a saiyan warrior anymore...you don't have to be. You don't have to live up to me...I'm not a great role model, trust me on that."

"Heh." Raditz grinned bitterly. "Are you really here? Or is my subconscious just trying to tell me something?"

"I told you," Bardock said. "Both."

"Well...if you believe in me..." his eyes narrowed as his ki built within him, finally bursting out as he transformed, his golden aura shining. "...then I will too!" He smiled as he realised this was the first time he'd been able to become a Super Saiyan in a dream. It felt just as empowering as when he'd first transformed—like he could take on the world.

Bardock smiled and nodded. "There. Now you believe...that you deserve it." He spread his arms, accepting defeat. "Finish it. "Lay me to rest."

"Goodbye, Bardock...greatest fighter of your age." He powered up an energy blast in one hand. "But this is a new age, I guess...if you ever come back somehow, I hope you get a chance to be the good person I know you could have been. So long—HYAAAA!" He flung the beam at his father, the bright yellow blaze enveloping the battle-scarred soldier and obliterating him, purging Raditz's mind, searing through his mental pathways and finally eliminating his self-doubt.

Gohan sat back, exhausted—he'd spent the whole day writing. Sooner or later I'm going to run out of information I just know from memory—I'm going to have to do some research. Admittedly, that's not too hard when you can fly faster than the speed of sound, at least...

He got up and stretched. Well, anyway. That's later. Right now, I smell something good cooking...

Well, that's that. The Countdown Saga is now well underway. Anyway, I'm putting a poll on my profile, proposing various ideas for what I could write in future and I'll explain the options here:

Focus on BTtL: Just write BTtL regularly, as other stories on the go could slow down updates.

Best Served Cold: The second chapter is coming eventually, but I wonder if anyone wants me and NinjaGin87 to update it more regularly.

Buu-absorbs-Goku idea: What if, during the battle with Kid Buu, the Namekians independentlyly decided to wish Goku back to full strength well before they did in canon? He then nearly kills Buu, who as a defence mechanism absorbs him, however something similar to the Old Kai absorption (that created the fat Buu) happens, and Buu inherits Goku's noble spirit, becoming a hero.

SSJ-kid-Goku idea: What if the requirements for an SSJ transformation were different? If instead of requiring a lot of power, it was just a pure heart filled with rage? So after android 8 is killed (as in the anniversary movie the Path to Power), Goku transforms as a child. He easily defeats many enemies with this new power, but this leads to a dangerous overconfidence, and he's unused to any real challenge, so when the frost demons or androids or whatever come along, things are more difficult...

Anyway, I've also included options for two or three of those ideas, if you like more than one. Note that whatever happens, I won't stop BTtL completely, but if I work on one or more other projects, BTtL will be slower to update.

Q: Could the 7s on Bulma mean 7 years of peace? A 7 Year countdown?

Q: And about the 7's hmmmm 777 represents god so is the surpreme kai trying to contact Bulma? and get this your story has to be truly good because last night I had a dream about Bulma drawing 7's werid right?

Q: I bet the 7 is for dragon balls obviously...that's the only thing in the dbz universe there are 7 of...but the real question is who wants them to be gathered and why.

Q:I'm still interested as to what the whole '7' deal is but I'm keeping my guess on either the Dragon Balls or on the seven-year-gap.

Q:So the number 7 hay ? That sounds important and knowing the type of writter you our i presume that's a hint about whats going to happen in the future. I have a few things it could be im proberly off with what i think but her gose. For this point in the story i recon it is about seven year till the buu sage so it could be like a count down to it but thats to simple i think it will proberly be like a count down to something to what i dont know. Their are also seven dragonballs and the this was caused by the dragons so it maybe your take of the shadow dragon sage and it all stems from bulma growing within her and since it's magic tecnology can't detect it.

A:Keep guessing, you're all giving me lots of entertainment!

Q:So,anyway,are you doing Yo!Son Goku And His Friends Return or not?

A:Well, the characters might make an appearance, but the story as it stood? No.

Q:I am kinda surprised Launch went Tien instead of Goku, but you probablyhave a reason for that?

A:Launch and Tien have often been implied to be pretty good friends. Some fics even pair them (not that I would, because, well.)

Q:Are they? Sorry, it's not intentional. Well, this document is 3,000 to 4,000 words, the first 5 chapters were all under 3,000, so it's not that much of a drop. Anyway, I just try to end them at good stopping points. These last couple have been successions of short scenes. I tend to do that in peacetime.

Incidentally, random fact: My favourite chapter, in terms of being proud of what I've written, is chapter 34 (when Break first fights Cell. Because it was so even at first, I was able to let the fighters use tactics and intelligence to get the upper hand on each other.)