Ascension - Part 1

by edgarmash79

After leaving the World Martial Arts Tournament to begin his training under a new teacher, Uub, now 16 years of age, was gearing up to participate in the 30th World Tournament. Elsewhere, a new menace emerges from the Eleventh Universe, one whose abilities could lead the very multiverse into dangerous times. This is a remaster of a previous version that I had published before.

5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – "Escape from the Pride Troopers! Kelerot's secret delving technique."

Beerus's homeworld

A delicious cup of tea.

The ideal beverage of Whis's choice as he watched Beerus and Vegeta engage in battle. The angelic attendant to the God of Destruction sighed happily as the taste touched his tongue. The taste and the sweet, flavorful, flowery aroma made it seem like he enjoyed the tea more than the fight.

"Oh, Bulma, you've done it again," Whis whispered. "What would Gowasu say if he tasted this elegant concoction?"

While he was aware of the Supreme Kai of the Tenth Universe's passion for brewing tea, Earth's blends from the Seventh Universe may possibly outrank theirs. He had introduced the Kai to a sample of Earth's delights before, but what else would he share?

The shockwave of Vegeta's fist colliding with Beerus's forearm rocked the ground. Whis still calmly drank from his cup, adjusting to the seismic vibrations.

Vegeta howled, heightening his ki to push Beerus back. The Destroyer responded with equal resistance. Resuming their melee exchange, they traded blows. Vegeta was hit more often, but he shrugged them off with a malicious grin in his current state.

Vegeta fought in the highest state of being he had achieved over the years: The state of being he called Ultra Ego. His power was equal to that of a Destroyer's, the abundant presence of Destruction ki flowing through his body. Gone were his eyebrows, but that only accentuated his magenta-colored eyes with a glare of intimidation while a dangerous violet bled into the Saiyan's natural charcoal hair.

Each hit Vegeta took was responded in kind with one of his own. There was noticeable damage done to Beerus's face with scrapes and a singular cut that made him bleed on the right side, narrowly avoiding his eye. Rather than aggravate the God of Destruction, it encouraged him.

"Fantastic work, Saiyan," Beerus said. He wiped his blood with two fingers, smiling devilishly. "You're more adept at getting me fired up than Goku."

"I'm over being compared to Kakarrot," Vegeta said. His grin hadn't wavered. "My only objective now is to master this form and elevate it."

Even Whis seemed impressed by Vegeta's answer despite the new visitor appearing to his right. There was no mistaking this ki when he arrived. Sipping the rest of the tea, Whis greeted him. "It has been some time, Son Goku."

"I've been kinda busy, sorry," Goku replied. His head then turned immediately upward. "Amazing!"

Whis could not overlook the excitement on the Saiyan's face watching a heated sparring session. "Vegeta's sure fired up!" Goku exclaimed.

"Indeed," said Whis. "He has honed Ultra Ego quite effectively with his training."

As Goku watched their fight, Whis studied the Saiyan's posture and blue gi. "Your choice of garb intrigues me. Is this a reflection of your ongoing mastery of Ultra Instinct? Or is this a personal preference?"

"Possibly," Goku said sheepishly, hands behind his head. Whis examined Goku's arms and legs. He could tell there was an improvement in Goku's stance that movement in his current form would indicate a consistent state of Ultra Instinct. But there was something off about the Saiyan's ki that was more noticeable as Whis observed him for some time. "Hm…?"

"What's up? Something wrong?" Goku asked, tilting his head.

"Your God ki's taken a bit of a dip over the years," Whis noted. "Have you not been training Ultra Instinct in your other forms?"

Before Goku could answer, another explosion shook the planet. Both Goku and Whis moved to avoid flying debris, but the Saiyan could not contain his surprise. Once the smoke cleared, Beerus descended towards the pair, holding an unconscious Vegeta by the wrist. "We're done, Whis," said the Destroyer.

"Hey, Lord Beerus!" Goku waved. He squatted to examine Vegeta, poking him to see if it'd wake him up. "You didn't rough him up too much, didya?"

"I would have destroyed him if I 'roughed him up,' as you put it," Beerus said. He gave Whis a look that instructed him to use his staff. With a single motion, the orb on the top showered Beerus with a green light that healed his body and repaired his attire. Stifling a yawn, he was back in the air. "Give him my regards, Whis. I'm going for a nap."

Vegeta scoffed at the sight of Goku offering his hand but accepted it regardless. Fully healed by the angel, Vegeta accepted a vial of water that he emptied.

"What are you doing here, Kakarrot? Shouldn't you be training Uub for the Tournament?" he asked. Goku once again had that sheepish look on his face. "Don't need to."

"You don't need to?"

"Yeah. He's training with Pan for the next few months. After that, I've got somethin' special for him to learn." Goku's explanations sounded so casual that Vegeta wasn't sure whether he was invested in it or not.

"Is that why you decided to come here?" Vegeta said. His constant sour-looking expression gave way to a grin. "Have you finally decided to take your training seriously again?"

"It sounds bad when you say that," Goku narrowed his eyes. "I knew the risk I was takin' when I decided to train Uub. How else could I prepare him so I can have that promised re-match?"

"A re-match?" Whis asked. What a curious statement.

"Yeah. Before I killed Majin Buu, I asked Yemma to reincarnate him. He's reborn as a good guy with all that power still inside him," Goku explained. He balled his hand into a fist, the look in his eyes unmistakably full of excitement. "I couldn't waste the chance to train Uub so he could surpass what he used to be as Buu. His power's gonna be awesome!"

Goku then turned to Whis. "I wanna use the next few months to get some of my god ki back," he said. Whis wasn't as amused to hear that coming from Goku. He even emphasized it with a knock to the Saiyan's head from the staff's orb that not even Goku had the instinct to react to. "Ow, ow, ow!"

"It was your responsibility to maintain your training, Son Goku," the angel said. "I'm not exactly thrilled to see you come begging for a refresher."

"Sorry! I didn't realize how much of my time it took to train Uub! I promise I'll use this time to adjust my body to God ki again!" Goku pleaded. "Please, let me train with you, Whis!"

"I could've told you that, Kakarrot," Vegeta said, glaring at him. "You've always had a knack for softening yourself during peacetime."

"My statement still stands," Whis said. There were still mortal habits that baffled him, yet Goku's remained enigmatic throughout the time he's known him. "You're free to come and go as you please, but I have other matters to attend to. Vegeta, would you kindly help Lord Beerus settle into his bed?"

Vegeta gave Whis a short bow and left. Goku rubbed the back of his head. "Well, this didn't go how I planned it." He then shrugged. "Guess I'll make do on my own."

Universe 11 – Central Pride Trooper H.Q.

The only things piercing the silence in Central HQ, home of the Pride Troopers, were the sounds of the ventilation and Cocotte's typing at her keyboard.

Kahseral, General of the Pride Troopers, used his eye-piece to focus his scope on the waste bin target. Tossing a wadded-up ball of paper, he gleefully cheered when the paper ball landed. His victory was cut short when another wadded ball of paper ricocheted off his head into the bin, forcing Kahseral to turn in the direction of Dyspo, his Co-General.

"Bullseye," Dyspo said. Even with his device, Kahseral could not register Dyspo's speed. The paper ball glanced off his head before realizing it had landed next to the one he had thrown a moment ago.

The front doors opened with two Pride Trooper soldiers escorting a pair of handcuffed vagrants. "General Dyspo!" shouted the soldier to his left. "We apprehended these hooligans attempting to rob a jewelry store!"

"Good work," Kahseral said, saluting them. "Secure them in the holding cells until Lieutenant Cocotte processes them." The soldiers saluted the Generals before shoving the vagrants forward.

Dyspo still had his feet lounged on the desk. "More petty criminals, more petty crimes committed…more petty paperwork to file," he whined through a yawn.

"No criminal, big or small, escapes the iron hand of Justice. Justice never sleeps, nor does it put its feet on the desk unprofessionally," Kahseral recited. What was more annoying: Dyspo's aloofness or his feet propped on the desk?

The general's rabbit-like ears drooped forward. "This isn't the same without Toppo. He's probably having the time of his life out there as a God of Destruction."

"I miss having him around too," Kahseral added. It had a different air to it, no doubt about it. Toppo was no longer their leader. It was awkward at first, asserting their new roles as leaders of the Pride Troopers. Even more awkward was referring to the new God of Destruction as Barbon, not Toppo. Their first meeting involved seeing Barbon's new look and outfit, not to mention his towering stature. Gone were the gentle eyes of a fatherly figure that mentored them through their training. Gone were the many meetings at The Grand Trooper wearing tailored suits and socializing with drinks. Barbon the Destroyer was the feared deity of the Eleventh Universe.

"Sir? Or, Sirs, I should say?"

A clerk cleared his throat as he knocked on the front desk. He slid a stack of papers in their direction. "I brought this month's list of applications for you to approve."

Dyspo groaned. "Great, more paperwork."

Kahseral chuckled as he grabbed the top page to read it over. "You're taking this for granted, my friend. We welcome all who desire to uphold justice."

"Yeah, yeah," Dyspo waved his hand nonchalantly. His hand then grabbed a random sheet, nearly knocking the stack off the desk. He quietly read it over, mulling over the name Rollipen. Despite numerous spelling errors in the applicant's writing, his vitals were promising. It reminded Dyspo of Jiren's stature. "This guy would make a nice second Jiren to tag along," he said to Kahseral, waving the sheet in the air.

"I'd dismiss the notion of a second fighter out there that matched Jiren's strength." From the ventilation, or what Dyspo described, a chill made Kahsera's skin crawl. Reading from the application Dyspo had just read, Rollipen's physical description gave him pause. "Whoever he is, he'd have to put decades worth of training to reach that level of strength."

Dyspo had a pensive look to him. Joining Kahseral as they both read the application a third time, the co-General shook his head. "I don't want anyone with the strength to stand up to Jiren."

Placing the sheet on a pile labeled "maybe," Kahseral drummed his fingers. "Now that you mention it, there were those fighters from that other universe years ago."

"I forgot who they were." Dyspo's head tilted, scrunching his face randomly. It looked comical, but Kahseral waved his hand. "Forget it, Dyspo. Let's not waste time thinking over it so much."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure it'll come to me later," Dyspo said, grabbing the next sheet. He sighed and crumpled it into a ball immediately. "Nope."

Cocotte suddenly burst from her office. "Generals! Come quick!"

Kahseral and Dyspo exchanged sudden looks. "What is it, Lieutenant?"

She said nothing else and left her door open for the two to follow quickly. "We just received a priority one distress message from the Space Prison facility!"

"Priority one?!" Dyspo said. "Are they under attack?"

"I'll play the transmission," Cocotte said, flipping a switch upward. "'Emergency! Priority one! Prisoner number 841-120 has escaped! Repeat! Priority one! Prisoner number 841-120 has escaped!'"

Cocotte shut off the recording. "That was relayed to us from the Gauntlet via Commander Kettol."

Prisoner 841-120? Who the heck was that? More importantly, Kahseral wondered how could that prisoner have escaped? "Hail the Gauntlet."

"Yes, sir."

Cocotte secured her headset and spoke in the mouthpiece: "Commander Kettol, come in!"

Kettol responded a moment later. "This is the Gauntlet, over."

"This is General Kahseral. We received the message you transmitted from the Prison facility, over."

There was a slight pause before Kettol spoke again. "I'm afraid it's much graver than what was initially relayed. We responded to the message asking for clarification, sir, but the channel was dead, over."

"What do you mean, dead, over?" Dyspo asked. "That doesn't make sense."

"The message repeated a third time, but it was cut off mid-way. We made the jump to Hyperspace to investigate directly, but when we arrived, there was no sign of the Prison anywhere, o-over." Kettol's sounded as if he had witnessed something horrific. It resonated through the room with a lengthy pause to consider what had been relayed to them. Cocotte's hand pressed the communicator again.

"What was the designation of the escaped prisoner again, over?" Kahseral asked.

"841-120, over," answered Kettol. Kahseral nodded to Cocotte, who entered the number in the prisoner registry. Kasheral and Dyspo let out a collective gasp when the prisoner's image appeared.

"It can't be…?!" said Kahseral. Dyspo's shock morphed into a rage as he slammed his fist on the panel. "Damn it all! Of all the prisoners to escape?! Him?!"

"Commander Kettol," Kahseral resumed, keeping his voice steady. He shook his head at Dyspo, waving his hand. "Did your investigation uncover any debris from the facility, over?"

"Our initial sensor sweep uncovered nothing," Kettol replied. "However, our subspace scan uncovered unusual spatial distortions that had the semblance of a black hole, but further investigation came back as inconclusive."

"What the-?!" the generals both shouted. Cocotte's blue-skinned face went a shade darker. Hand to her chest, she looked to the generals for answers, of which they were equally at a loss to provide.

"Stand by," was all Kahseral could say before they muted the channel. He was tempted to remove his beret to clutch it in his hand but gripped the edge of the panel instead.

"We should arrange transport to rendezvous with the Gauntlet," Dyspo suggested, but Kahseral shook his head.

"Kahseral?" Dyspo pressed. He was losing patience, Kahseral could tell, but he needed to remain calm. It didn't help that he could feel his heart rate accelerate at the sound of this frightening news. A prison destroyed by a black hole-like phenomenon? There were hundreds of people there. It pained him more to realize that Tupper and Vuon were among them. Cocotte certainly realized it once he noticed tears trickling down her cheeks. "I know," he told her with a hand on her shoulder.

"How could he have done this?" Dyspo asked.

"We don't have all the answers yet, General," Kahseral said. "What matters now is that we capture and bring the escapee back to us for questioning. Cocotte."

He turned to the woman, who was still visibly shaken by the revelation. "Lieutenant, I need you to focus."

"Y-yes, sir," she said nervously.

"Un-mute the channel to the Gauntlet," Kahseral ordered.

"Yes, sir."

"Standing by, H.Q.," Kettol's voice came back.

"Conduct a long-range sensor sweep. We need to find the ship the prisoner escaped in," Kahseral said. He turned to Dyspo. "Stand by to open a channel to Jiren."

Dyspo was surprised at first but nodded. It's come to this, hasn't it? "Understood."

"Leave the channel open, Lieutenant," Kahseral said to Cocotte before pacing in the room. "We'll wait as long as it takes for them to locate the ship."

"Acknowledged," Cocotte answered. She took a deep breath to steady her hands, but she complied quickly to monitor the channel.

While the Gauntlet located the ship, the tension in Cocotte's office didn't de-escalate. Neither of the three wanted the news to leave the room to avoid rousing everyone in the building. The only other Troopers aware of this, for now, were Kettol, Zoiray, and Kunshi while they were still on board the Gauntlet. Soon it would be relayed to Jiren, and the matter would be settled quickly.

It was the longest thirty minutes Kahseral and Dyspo had ever endured. "We found the ship, sir!" Kettol said.

"Good! Where is it currently located?" Kahseral asked.

"We intercepted the tracking beacon to Planet Knives, sir! The prisoner had made landfall a few minutes ago but has not left yet."

"We have a lead. That's all that matters," Kahseral said, relieved. He then nodded to Dyspo, who activated his communicator.

"Jiren, come in," Dyspo said. The generals were still exchanging anxious looks.

"Go ahead," came the enforcer's low, quiet voice.

"We have an Omega level threat," Dyspo said. He paused before continuing. "We're relaying the coordinates to a tracking beacon installed on a ship that left the Space Prison Facility an hour ago."

"There's a prisoner who had escaped with the ship," Kasheral added. "Prisoner number 841-120. He is to be captured and brought back to Netfiss."

Pride Troopers classified threats based on four levels: Alpha, Delta, Gamma, and Omega. Alpha and Delta levels were considered small to medium level threats commonly contained by soldiers. Gamma-level involved Elite Pride Troopers led by Dyspo and Kahseral to contain and eliminate the threat.

Kahseral and Dyspo created this tiered threat system to allocate and organize recruits. Those who had only recently completed their training were assigned to squad leaders for Alpha and Delta-level threats. Once they gained enough experience, top-ranked soldiers would be either promoted to squad leader or upgraded to Gamma-level status to work alongside Elites such as Kettol, Kunshi, or Zoiray while liaising with the Generals and Lieutenant Cocotte at H.Q.

An Omega-level threat is the only threat that involved Jiren directly. After his performance at the Tournament of Power, Dyspo and Kahseral relegated him to solo missions where threats were too great for the Pride Troopers to handle themselves. The last time an Omega-level threat was declared, a comet was on a collision course with a neighboring planet inhabited by a friendly race of humanoid aliens. Jiren was sent to destroy the comet before it collided with the planet, while Dyspo, Kahseral, and the rest of the Pride Troopers evacuated the inhabitants on transport ships.

"Understood," Jiren said. The channel went silent. No further words were spoken between Kahseral and Dyspo, knowing that they could only wait for Jiren's report.

A forthcoming battle

Forced to make a landing on the nearest planet was not something Kelerot intended. He needed to reach a minimum safe distance on a civilized planet to plan his next move. Otherwise, he'd have Pride Troopers breathing down his neck.

Someone or something triggered the black hole bomb he created.

"Damn it all," Kelerot muttered under his breath. "Who was stupid enough to activate it?"

He conjured a list of possibilities. Neither Tupper nor Vuon were bold enough to touch it unless their hand was forced. Kelerot shook his head. They're not suicidal. It couldn't have been them.

A random guard or security officer, maybe? Kelerot considered the possibility that he hadn't mentioned his technique to anyone other than those still conscious in that room. It made him think of Kutlerie in this instance. What if it was Kutlerie? He was knocked out when I made the bomb.

Before he could rattle off more names, he froze. A large ki signature was headed his way, moving at absurd speeds. What is this ki?!

He never had to will his body to move to this extent, but whoever was arriving would see him if he didn't hide quickly enough. C'mon Kelerot. You don't have the time to panic.

Disembarking the ship, he sprinted to an alcove that provided adequate cover for now. He had a clear line of sight from where he crouched to the ship. He kept his senses on alert, expecting a regiment of Pride Troopers to land. It'd have to explain the ki he was sensing.

However, only one person landed near the ship.

Kelerot ducked to keep himself out of sight. Only one Pride Trooper?! Only one has that much ki?!

He peeked once more at the Pride Trooper. His muscles would make those airhead prisoners jealous. But it was his posture and walk that made Kelerot swallow.

It couldn't be.

Kelerot continued to suppress his ki in the likelihood that this Trooper had ki sense. But the sheer intimidation factored into how this Trooper stood, walked, observed, and felt when sensing his energy left Kelerot with only one conclusion.

It's really him, isn't it? The one they call Jiren.

"Prisoner number 841-120!" Jiren bellowed. Even his voice was intimidating! "Surrender immediately!"

Who the hell does this guy think he is? Kelerot thought. He had to plan something fast if he had any chance against this walking colossus of power.

"It's over, Number 841-120! Your means of escape is compromised!" Jiren continued. His voice wasn't traveling anywhere else, which meant he was positioned to wait.

Dammit, I shouldn't have stopped when I did.

Kelerot examined his hands. I don't want to diminish my ki making another one of these, but for an opponent like Jiren, I'll need to maximize the output of this black hole bomb.

He then brought his hands together. Another of those strange black-colored spheres emerged from within, slightly bigger than the one he created as his "bargaining chip" to escape the Space Prison. Kelerot could sense that it alerted Jiren to his location, but he had enough time to conjure his bomb. As he rose, a ki blast obliterated the alcove he hid behind. He withstood the destructive force, moving his hands behind him while waiting for the smoke to clear. He needed those few seconds to clear his head and calm his nerves so that he would not let himself be the lesser of the two.

"So, that's where you were hiding," Jiren said. The two approached each other, Kelerot maintaining a neutral expression. He only had a few seconds to keep Jiren from discovering his last-minute plan.

"So you're Jiren, huh?" Kelerot said. "You're exactly as they described you." His head tilted so their eyes could meet before he added, "A god-defying monster."

"How they describe me matters not, criminal," Jiren said. Kelerot could not read any signs of complex emotion from Jiren's face. He was stone-cold in his approach. "I only care about what must be done in the name of Justice."

"Does that include killing so-called 'evildoers?'" Kelerot asked. The question brought a smile to Jiren's face.

"Taking a life is not how I settle things," Jiren said.

Kelerot raised his eyebrows, surprised at such an answer. "Even though your Pride Trooper friends have no qualm about it?"

"I do not speak for my associates." Jiren's eyes narrowed. Kelerot could see that Jiren's patience was waning. That might provide an opening.

Kelerot continued to maintain his composure under Jiren's pressure. Such massive ki so close to him was making him nauseous. I need to act soon.

"You would never kill, no matter what?" Kelerot asked. Jiren's glare was obvious. "That makes two of us."

You're not a murderer, Vuon's voice echoed in Kelerot's head again. Kelerot willed it to a dull whisper but then had the crazy suspicion that this black hole bomb may not even get the job done. It was even crazier to believe that Jiren could actually out-pace the gravitational pull of a black hole. The very notion made him want to vomit.

Jiren scoffed. "Some unknown force destroyed the space prison you had escaped from. The generals suspect you were the cause of it. If you claim you haven't taken a life, prove it to them."

"I refuse. I want nothing to do with the Pride Troopers. Let me embark my ship, and you won't ever see my face near a civilized planet," Kelerot offered, but Jiren's hand closed itself into a fist.

"You are not going anywhere. Surrender as you are now, or surrender after I've knocked you unconscious."

Kelerot shook his head. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

He leapt back and thrust his palm forward, shoving the bomb at Jiren. With a quick snap of his fingers, Kelerot activated his black hole bomb in front of the Pride Trooper. It had to buy him enough time to get to the ship and leave, Kelerot hoped. As fast as he moved, he didn't reach the ship in time before Jiren fired a ki blast to destroy it.

Kelerot wanted to scold the enforcer for such an action. His hand was forced. That much was established but confined to this unknown planet? He'd have to decide on the spot.

However, his choice was further complicated when he witnessed Jiren use his strength to suppress the black hole bomb, fighting against the gravitational pull. It can't be…!

The output of ki from Jiren forced Kelerot to shield his face from the blowing winds. Sections of the planet cracked and detached, pulled into the vortex of the bomb. It was awe-inspiring watching Jiren contain the bomb's power, which could've easily vacuumed this whole galaxy if left alone. He needed to implement that much power to hold the Pride Trooper at bay if he planned to escape. He hadn't intended to be a spectator to the display of power before him.

Jiren roared. He brought his hands closer together, squeezing the bomb to shrink it. Kelerot knew how dangerous it was, but he was certain Jiren did not.

"Stop! You'll destroy the whole galaxy if you compress it too much!" Kelerot yelled.

"I would not allow such a thing!" Jiren bellowed back. Kelerot gritted his teeth. "You idiot," he hissed.

The sphere began to bend from the pressure between Jiren's hands. Kelerot had to make another decision that vexed him. Damn it all!

Reaching with his hand, he channeled ki into the sphere. Being the one who created it, Kelerot had to use up a lot of his power to neutralize and undo it. Once the sphere was gone, Jiren glared at Kelerot.

"Your power has dropped," said Jiren. Kelerot scoffed, balling his hands into fists. "It's over. Surrender now."

Kelerot glanced away. Jiren was not wrong about the drop in power. But how much of it had dropped? He pored over all those fights where he put his body through unimaginable punishment. It had never occurred to him to consider a fight where he didn't need to. He did the only thing he compelled himself to do. He uttered a mighty howl and flared his ki.

The output of Kelerot's power caught Jiren off-guard for a moment. He expected the Pride Trooper would be unaware of someone the likes of Kelerot to generate that much ki himself, but he remained stoic in his stance. The land cracked once more, sending sections floating in the air before they were scattered across the battlefield. Kelerot hoped that the power Jiren needed to contain his black hole bomb had sapped his baffling strength to a manageable state. Even though his power dropped from handling a powerful technique, he hoped it hadn't dropped too much.

Kelerot blipped in and out of the air, reappearing to strike at Jiren. The Pride Trooper responded with a flash of his eyes, creating an explosion of energy that forced Kelerot to deflect with his arms, mounting a quick defensive posture.

Jiren was on the move at such speeds Kelerot had trouble initially keeping up. He blocked stiff blows while zipping around the area. He quickly realized how much Jiren's rapid movements kept him on the defensive. Kelerot needed to find a way to strike back by doing what he could to block and evade.

"You can't evade every attack!" yelled Jiren. His fist narrowly missed Kelerot as it crashed into the ground. Each blow that struck the planet shifted the landscape. Jiren's blows conjured craters several feet deep while Kelerot was able to avoid his body sandwiched between the ground and Jiren's gloved hand.

Kelerot began to survey the area as Jiren rearranged it. Flat surfaces were now elevated, creating blind spots for potential sneak attacks. This gives me an idea.

As he continued to dodge by a hair's breadth, Kelerot tagged each raised rocky platform with his hand. Channeling ki, he altered the structure to generate a heavy gravitational pull that he hoped would throw Jiren off his trajectory. Once he hit enough sections, he enacted the second phase of his plan.

Throw off his movements enough to leave an opening. Kelerot tested the first phase by threading around the sections. His immunity gave him an advantage, but even someone like Jiren could still land one punch to put him in jeopardy. He couldn't risk a hit.

There!

As Jiren came in with a right hook, the closest rock pulled his arm towards it. Kelerot zipped in and tagged his shoulder with a pressure-point strike. Jiren corrected his movement, spinning to swing behind with a chop. Kelerot ducked before backflipping out of melee range.

Utilizing these gravity techniques was draining his stamina quickly, not to mention the constant evasion from the Pride Trooper. Four more pressure points, and I'll have him right where I want him.

These nimble movements were trying Jiren's patience. "You're only delaying the inevitable!"

"If only you knew the whole story, Jiren!" Kelerot yelled back. He wasn't expecting Jiren's next attack to reach him, but he blocked rapid-fire punches while shielding his face. "Dammit! That was dirty…!"

Kelerot needed to move if he didn't want the blows to escalate and cause damage. He risked a few strikes to thrust his arms out, channeling ki to the rocks nearby. Increasing their gravitational field, it began to pull at Jiren's rapid punches to minimize their impact on him.

Kelerot then gunned it for Jiren. His small frame gave him enough agility to evade, allowing him the chance to close in. With hi-speed movements, he zipped behind Jiren to tag his other shoulder. That's two!

"Enough of this!" Jiren howled. Following his words with a roar, Jiren's ki gushed like a volcano. Waves of energy blew Kelerot back, causing him to slide and roll along the ground until he stopped.

Shaken, Kelerot pushed himself up enough to see the Pride Trooper stalk towards him. When Jiren was hovering over him, Kelerot was on one knee. He tried to raise himself off the ground but soon found himself pushed back down by Jiren's boot.

"You have no chance of victory," Jiren said, adding more strength behind his foot. "Don't make me repeat myself."

I must survive this! I'd rather die free than in their custody!

Kelerot uttered a cry of desperation before he jabbed Jiren's other leg with his hand. Three!

Jiren was frustrated by these strikes and stepped off Kelerot's back to grab a handful of his hair. Kelerot responded with a quick jab to the other leg, chuckling to himself as he did it. "That makes four," he murmured.

While he succeeded in striking four pressure points on Jiren's shoulders and legs, he was not as fortunate when Jiren applied a large sphere of ki that grew against his back. The sphere pushed him forward, far enough for Jiren to let go of his scalp. The sphere was gaining momentum, increasing its speed.

Kelerot hissed, balling his hands into fists. While he managed to roll off the sphere, he found himself in incredible pain from Jiren's punch that struck him in the gut. The sphere was enough to leave Kelerot wide open for a heavy strike.

Bile ejected itself from Kelerot's mouth. He could've thrown up what he ate some time ago, but at least he wasn't puking up blood. That would've been a dangerous precedent to follow. Clutching his stomach, Kelerot floated down to the ground.

But that was quickly tossed aside as Jiren fired multiple ki blasts that sped up his trajectory, forcing him to crash. Kelerot still had his arms around his midsection while his breathing became labored and shallow. His power dropped as he stared at the last spot he needed to hit. It's not over. I must hit that last pressure point.

He was slower to rise than before, but somehow Jiren mercifully bought him the time to stand. "Well, aren't you noble," whispered Kelerot. He chuckled, wincing at the pain.

Fighting against his vision fading, Kelerot urged his body to stay conscious. If I can't get that last pressure point, I can at least slow him down enough to grab him. Then I could use Master's technique on him.

During the fight, it had been gnawing his brain to use his Master's secret technique on Jiren. It would at least give him an advantage, later on, should they encounter each other again. The best-case scenario would buy him a chance to elude the Pride Troopers with a few survival tricks he had picked up while in Prison. Those tricks would save his sorry hide in the current state of things.

Shaken but stable, Kelerot was back on his feet, staring Jiren down as the Pride Trooper landed. "Gotta be subtle about this," Kelerot whispered, "if I don't want him to catch on."

Gradually moving his hands outward, he took a few shaky steps toward Jiren. The brute was more confident in his step, the veil of victory laid across his face. Kelerot hated that this was a losing affair, but he wasn't going down without laying the foundation for something he could take care of later. He only needed one clear shot.

"I commend your endurance. Most evildoers would not have lasted as long," Jiren said.

"I suppose you want a 'thank you?'" Kelerot asked. Jiren grinned, thinking it was some big joke. Kelerot continued eyeing those powerful arms, ready to strike with another powerful haymaker as before.

When the two were close, Kelerot moved his hands forward. Jiren responded, but his confident face shifted to confusion by the reduction in speed of his arm's movement.

"What the-?"

Kelerot grabbed Jiren's wrist as his fist was almost ready to connect. He then made a stabbing motion with his fingers to strike Jiren's chest with his free arm. And that makes five.

Glaring, Jiren moved his other arm but was surprised to see that it was moving just as slowly.

C'mon, body, don't quit on me. I only need a few seconds!

Kelerot willed his body to stay the course while maintaining his grip on Jiren's wrists. Despite the slow movement, Jiren was still pushing down on him. It was as if the ground was swallowing Kelerot the more Jiren pushed, planting his legs feet first.

The mind-boggling power of Jiren overwhelmed Kelerot, forcing him to release his gravitational hold on the Pride Trooper. A sharp kick to Kelerot's mid-section followed, lifting him off the ground. This time, blood did come out of his mouth.

"It's over," Jiren's ice-like tone uttered, driving his point home with another energy sphere that sent Kelerot flying.

He had no answer for this. No means of escape either. At the mercy of this powerful energy sphere, he had no time to figure out its intended purpose. His concern was that it would push him out of the planet's atmosphere, but it soon turned to dread as the sphere glowed brighter and hotter. It was going to explode, point-blank. And Kelerot was going to be caught in the middle…

A memory from long ago

Kelerot distracted himself by looking at the sun while his friends dug a hole deep enough to plant the next sapling he held in his hand. "If you stare at the sun for too long, you'll go blind."

The statement alerting him came from his friend Spinack, a Gardenian around his age who had widened the hole enough for Kelerot. "It's ready," he said.

Kelerot examined his bag after the sapling was planted and counted the remaining three. "Just enough time to plant these before Master Daikon summons us for training."

Once the last sapling was planted, a young Gardenian named Chard rushed with the watering can to douse the row. "Don't overwater them," Kelerot advised.

"I won't," Chard said, even though he was too distracted with helping Kelerot and Spinack that he poured more water over one sapling than the others.

A single ki blast fired into the sky signaled the Gardenian youths that training time would begin. Kelerot had one final look at the sky, shielding his eyes to watch a cloud formation in the shape of a bear drift by.

"Kelerot…!"

Kelerot pried his eyes from the blue sky as Spinack shrugged. "You coming or not?"

"Sorry…!"

The boys changed from their blue and white robes to their martial arts garb in the dojo. Kelerot found himself more distracted by the single girl who had already changed before the boys arrived. She ignored him as she stretched her arms and legs.

"Today's the day. I can feel it," Kelerot said as an aside to Spinack while watching the girl.

Spinack shook his head. "You're lightyears behind Perilla, brother."

"Then I'll travel faster than light to catch up," Kelerot asserted.

While not his brother by blood, Spinack's family adopted Kelerot into theirs after losing his mother and father. Between playing games outside on the main court with the other boys to practicing punches, Spinack had to often warn Kelerot about Perilla and her rugged outlook. Every off chance she had, Perilla would tease him. She'd make the boys laugh by joking that Kelerot peeked at her while swimming. But Kelerot had the last laugh when he displayed better skills at swimming and climbing than she did. His nimble movements were one thing they acknowledged he was better at than Perilla. However, Kelerot conceded that Perilla was a more prodigal fighter.

At the front sat Master Daikon, his back facing the class. Hopping to his feet from his seated position, he faced the group. "Fall in line!" he barked.

Ogling Perilla and chatting ceased the moment Daikon spoke. Kelerot stood, hands behind his back like the others. He stared ahead, eyes focused solely on his Master.

Daikon nodded at the group once they were ready. "Warm-up exercises: Twenty laps around the dojo, twenty push-ups, twenty pull-ups, and twenty forward punches! Go!"

Kelerot goaded Spinack to race him around the building. As they ran, they noticed Perilla in the lead. With confidence, Kelerot picked up speed to catch up to the girl and pass her.

She was surprised at first, but that only spurned her confidence. "I didn't realize this was a race, Kels!" she said behind him.

Kelerot soon found himself neck-and-neck with the girl, running circles around the building. They ran so much that they forgot how many laps they achieved before Daikon halted their movement with a clutch of their gi.

"Don't wear yourselves out during warm-up, you two," Daikon told them. Kelerot and Perilla exchanged looks before she jabbed Kelerot in the shoulder. "Good job keeping up," she told him before bowing to Daikon. "Sorry, Master. Had a little too much fun."

"You can have all the fun later, Perilla," Daikon said, shooing her away. "Don't forget your push-ups, pull-ups and punches!"

Kelerot rubbed his shoulder, almost bumping into Daikon by accident. "You, too, Kelerot. Get going."

"Yes, Master!"

Kelerot and Perilla decided to make it a game for the rest of the warm-up exercises. Though Daikon shook his head, the stately Martial Arts Master did regard the two competing with each other eagerly. The Gardenian youths often found themselves being watched more attentively by Daikon than the rest of the class, possibly due to their desire to learn how to fight.

Daikon was not like other Gardenians. In fact, he did not look at all like a Gardenian. He had less hair on his body and face save a clean-cut charcoal beard and spiked hair on his head.

Regardless of the different features, Daikon commanded a strong presence that earned the respect of the village elders, eventually extending that respect to the other tribes across the planet. He not only had incredible depth of knowledge in the fighting arts, but he was also a man of incredible intelligence. The children were drawn to him, excited to learn from him. As much as he trained the adults, he reserved two days out of the week to train the children how to fight, build their strength, and learn to control ki. Ki control was more emphasized than anything else Daikon taught the Gardenians.

Kelerot took to it quickly and progressed more naturally than the others. Even Perilla conceded that she could not match Kelerot when using ki. But she was still more adept at physical combat. The only other one that they knew was the most talented ki user was Spinack.

The pair were the last back in the dojo, stopping to re-hydrate before falling in line with the other students. Spinack gave Kelerot an awe-struck look. "I can't believe you two ran so much," he whispered.

During the sparring round, Kelerot was paired with Chard. The kid's eyes shifted everywhere except at Kelerot. He thought this boy should've been paired off with someone his age first, but Daikon assured them that there were no better means of gaining experience than pairing a "greenhorn" with a veteran.

"Fighting positions!" yelled Daikon, ordering every pair to assume their fighting stance. Chard's arms shook while raising his fists, affording Kelerot a few seconds to catch Perilla's determined stare as she eyed her opponent. The kid she was paired with wasn't as nerve-wracked as Chard, but he was not looking forward to facing Perilla as his first sparring opponent.

"Begin!"

Chard rushed at Kelerot, leaving himself open in several key areas. Kelerot could easily strike to knock the kid out but opted to avoid heavy strikes.

The kid threw a wide punch that Kelerot caught, pulling him forward. He released his grip, which forced Chard to continue his momentum. He flailed his arms, avoiding the floor, then turned to search for Kelerot. He had already zipped behind the kid and chopped him in the neck area, sending him to the mats. Kelerot's advanced training emphasized pressure points that he could use to knock his opponent unconscious. Another small jab jolted Chard awake, which had the kid throw a punch. Hitting nothing but air, Chard glanced up, staring eye-to-eye with Kelerot. "Ready to go again?" Kelerot asked.

After Chard was on his feet, he assumed another weak stance. Kelerot was apprehensive about continuing this sparring match, eager to fight someone his skill level. What he really wanted was a re-match against Perilla.

He assumed his fighting stance again, ready for another forward charge from Chard. The kid approached him more cautiously, learning from his first mistake. He picked up on them at a good pace for a kid who only started lessons two days ago. Kelerot grinned, ready to handle the situation again.

Once they were close, Chard threw another wide punch. Kelerot caught it and twisted the kid's arm behind his back. "Ow!"

"How would you escape this?" Kelerot asked. His grip tightened.

"I don't know!" Chard yelled. He cried out more from the pressure Kelerot applied until he was released. He rubbed his upper arm. "How am I supposed to know what to do?"

"There's plenty of ways to escape. You still have your other arm." Kelerot pointed at Chard's left arm. "You have much of your body still mobile that you can use to your advantage. Here, let me show you."

Kelerot and Chard reversed roles as he explained to the kid how to escape a couple of holds using his body. The boy watched Kelerot move to escape, replicating it – with some difficulty due to their size difference.

"Why did Master Daikon pair us first, Kelerot?" the boy asked. He practiced his punches as Kelerot blocked with his palms.

"Focus your ki, Chard. You need to build it up to strengthen your punches," Kelerot said. He glanced back at Daikon, who was in the middle of schooling two of his students that had the foolish idea of trying to spar with him directly. "Master Daikon paired us because he trusts me enough to teach you so he can pay attention to the whole class. Perilla can do the same with Sprouts over there."

Kelerot pointed to Perilla, who forced a kid Chard's age to tap his hand on the mat. She shot him a look and brought two fingers to her eyes before pointing them at him. Kelerot grinned when she mouthed, "you're next."

"Perilla's scary when she gets serious," Chard noted. Kelerot redirected the boy's face to his. "Don't lose focus."

While Kelerot wasn't technically Perilla's next opponent, the two switched pairs as Daikon directed until they eventually went face to face.

"Ready to kiss my feet again, Kels? I dirtied them on purpose just for you," she said, taunting him. Kelerot grinned as he assumed his fighting stance. "What would your mother say if she heard that?"

"She won't find out. After you kiss them, I'm having you wash them," Perilla said, hopping in place. She was eager to throw down with him.

"Begin!" Daikon barked.

While several pairings were busy sparring, the others were distracted by Kelerot and Perilla dancing around the room while blocking each other's attacks. Daikon redirected their attention to each other, but he did not take his eyes off his top students.

Kelerot aimed for Perilla's pressure points, but she was quick. She minimized the impact with subtle movements, catching and redirecting his hands. They continued until they reached a stalemate, their forearms locked. Each tried to push against the other, but Kelerot persevered, holding steady.

They broke their strength test to resume their high-speed combat until Kelerot accidentally found himself with a handful of something soft and malleable. "What the—?"

He directed his attention to his hand and froze. He looked up to see Perilla red in the face, staring down at his hand. Embarrassment quickly shifted to anger, where Kelerot had no time to avoid a punch directed at his face. At least he released his grip before she knocked him down to the mat.

Rubbing the side of his face a moment later, Kelerot was back on his feet. "Sorry about that," he said to Perilla, who somehow stayed near him. She had her arms wrapped around her chest, averting her eyes while still red in the face. "It's fine," she whispered.

Spinack pointed to Kelerot's face. "She got you pretty good, didn't she?"

Kelerot gave Perilla some time to compose herself. Wincing each time he touched the shiner around his eye, Spinack showed him his reflection in one of the mirrors lining up the wall to the back. "See what I mean?" he said.

The bruising looked more painful once Kelerot saw it. It only made things more awkward around Perilla. Should another accident like that happen in a future sparring session, Kelerot could find himself going home with a broken arm or a dislocated shoulder. He had been taught about physical changes between boys and girls as they grew older by the elders, only he hadn't realized it firsthand until just now when he began to see features on Perilla that weren't there a year ago. She was different but in a good way. It was becoming more difficult to take his eyes off her.

After sparring was over, the students had a brief period to relax and cool down before ki control training was next. Daikon was in the middle of setting up targets when Perilla approached Kelerot and Spinack.

"Do I still need to kiss your feet?" Kelerot asked. Perilla's face had relaxed, though her cheeks were still rosy. She was still apprehensive about the incident.

"I should've held back on that punch," she said. She reached up to touch the shiner. "Stop by my place after, and I'll ice it down for you."

"I'm tagging along. Your mom cooks a killer feast!" Spinack chimed in, which netted an elbow to his side from Perilla. "That wasn't an invitation to dinner, idiot."

Spinack winced as he chuckled. "Was worth a shot."

"Fall in!" Daikon called to the class. Perilla gave one last look at the shiner before she positioned herself along the row of students. Kelerot and Spinack stood near Chard, who was still quite nervous about all the training he had been doing today.

"Concentrate and focus your ki. Your objective is the middle of the target," Daikon instructed.

Kelerot, Spinack, and Perilla were easily the most adept at ki control. Despite what his friend lacked in physical sparring, Kelerot admired the kid's affinity for channeling ki. They continued firing ki blasts at the target, where points were tallied above. Each time they hit, their score increased by ten points. Spinack maintained a perfect score, hitting his target every time.

"Ki is the foundation of existence," Daikon explained. "Ki is everywhere, in all living things. It surrounds us and exists within us. With training, you can increase your affinity with ki to become stronger, faster, more durable, and less likely to fall prey to what's out there."

Daikon's instructions were drilled in Kelerot's memory. It had been repeated so many times that it became background noise for him. It wasn't the case for Chard, however.

While Kelerot scored another ten points, he observed the boy's score and was surprised to see it was still zero. Even Sprouts was able to score a few times on his points tally.

He paused to watch Chard aim his hand at the target, yet nothing was coming out. The kid's face scrunched up, gritting his teeth until he stomped his feet, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I can't do it! It's impossible!" the boy yelled. Those within ear range halted their movement.

"Focus and concentrate!" Daikon reminded them. He gave Kelerot a look to redirect him back to his task. Kelerot eyed Perilla, wondering if she had heard Chard's cries.

Daikon walked behind him. "What is the problem?"

Kelerot spun and bowed. "Sorry, Master. Chard is struggling to score points."

"Is that any of your concern, Mister Kelerot?"

Kelerot glanced at Chard before shaking his head. "No, Master."

Daikon pursed his lips. "Halt! Kelerot, to my left!"

Daikon led Kelerot to the middle of the dojo floor. The students spun and faced them. "Sitting positions – not you, Mister Chard," he instructed them.

Sometimes, it was difficult to tell what level of disapproval Daikon had when he gave him a look, even when it was too brief to notice. He could still sense his Master's eyes staring him down.

Daikon was more focused on Chard, though. "Mister Kelerot, explain to the class how emotions affect us as warriors."

Kelerot watched the boy wipe his face of tears and mucus. He was the only other student standing, which made things more awkward, as Kelerot explained. "A warrior cannot achieve their potential if they are emotionally compromised. Our concentration wavers, and our focus is lost."

"Correct!" Daikon said. He nodded to Kelerot. "As you were."

Kelerot took his spot beside Spinack as Daikon paced in front of them. "Listen carefully. Crying over your failure does not resolve it! Steel yourselves emotionally and recognize your failure to learn from it! Dwelling on failure only allows failure to dictate how you live the rest of your life! That is not the life of a warrior. That is the life of a coward!"

He stared everyone down. "Are you warriors or cowards?"

"Warriors!" Everyone shouted. Chard was still shaken up, but he could still shout "warriors!" a second after.

Daikon nodded. "Excellent. Resume your exercise!"

Despite his explanation to the class, Kelerot was still not without empathy for the boy. The little pep talk hadn't bolstered the kid's confidence, but Chard was more able to keep himself calm as he wiped a stray tear from his face.

He then felt a tap on his shoulder. "Go help him," Perilla whispered before rushing back to her position.

He risked another scolding from Daikon, but another look from Perilla reinforced her request. He approached the boy, who was staring at his hands.

"Why can't I fire ki like you can?" Chard asked.

Kelerot spun him around to face his target. "Visualize your target in your mind. Just as we practiced yesterday."

"Visualize…?"

"Yes," Kelerot said. "Close your eyes. Empty your mind of distraction and emotion."

He expected Daikon to round on him, but he was busy talking to another student, likely echoing what Kelerot was teaching Chard. "Visualize a lake, clear and undisturbed. That is your center of emotion. When something hits the water, it creates a ripple. That is emotion disturbing your center."

Chard raised his hands, palms facing forward. "Visualize my lake."

"Focus only on the lake as it lies before you. Let nothing disturb it," Kelerot said. He began to see the boy's hands glowing. "Good, keep concentrating. You got this."

A few seconds later, a small ki blast shot from Chard's hands. It missed the target and continued until it struck the far wall, leaving a scorched speck. Chard opened his eyes and stared at his hands ecstatically.

"Kelerot! I did it! Did you see me? I did it!" Chard shouted.

"Don't lose faith in your power," Kelerot said, ruffling the boy's scalp. "Keep it up."

Kelerot gave an apologetic look to Daikon, but his Master grinned in response. It was as if he expected Kelerot to take the initiative – with some coaxing from Perilla – to encourage Chard to tap into his power.

Once class wrapped up, Daikon paused Kelerot mid-conversation as he spoke with Spinack and Perilla. "Great work, as always. Kelerot, can you stay here for a while longer?"

"Sure. Was it my turn to help with the clean-up?"

Daikon shook his head. "Don't worry about cleaning up. I have something else in mind."

Kelerot exchanged looks with Perilla and Spinack. "Is this a new lesson? Can you show it to us, too?" Perilla asked.

Daikon shook his head again. "I have special techniques to impart on each of you individually, Perilla. This one is exclusive to Kelerot."

Perilla's eyes lit up. "I can't wait to see what you'll teach me, Master Daikon! 'Cause then I get to show it to you later, Kels!"

Her tone was both intimidating and enthusiastic. Whatever Daikon was going to teach, it had better be worth it so he could anticipate what Perilla would bring later.

She reached with her hand to gently touch the shiner. "Don't take too long. I want you at my house before nightfall."

Her eyes met his for a few seconds. They both looked apologetically at each other for what happened earlier, but Perilla broke away first to retreat to a private changing room reserved for her.

After the students left, Daikon raised an eyebrow. "You look tense. Relax."

"Sorry, Master," Kelerot said. "It feels like you're going to punish me instead of teaching me."

Daikon couldn't help but laugh. "Why would I punish one of my best students? Those days are long gone now."

He then laid his hands on Kelerot's shoulders. "You've made so much progress since I first took you in. You weren't any older than Chard that day. You, Perilla, Spinack, I couldn't be any more proud. Once you three reach the age of 18, you'll be upgraded to the adult classes."

It was still three years away, but the excitement of training with the adults was one of his dreams when he first began his training, proving to Daikon that he was determined to protect the village when it mattered the most.

"So, what is this technique?" Kelerot asked.

Daikon's face was the most serious Kelerot had ever seen. "What I am about to teach you is difficult to learn and master, but it becomes the ultimate survival technique once you do." He took Kelerot's arm by the wrist. "I call it 'Delving.'"

"Delving…?"

"Correct. It has many uses, but it's more practical when used during a battle," Daikon said. Kelerot wasn't sure what to make of Daikon holding his wrist in such a manner. Was this some advanced pressure-point technique?

He thought of a different question instead. "Is this the key to winning a fight?"

Daikon chuckled. "Delving isn't about winning or losing. It's about guaranteeing your survival."

Survival? Watching his wrist held by his Master looked more confusing now.

"What does Delving do? How does it make me survive?" Kelerot asked.

Daikon released his grip. "Delving is a secret infiltration technique that can study your opponent without them knowing what your intentions are."

Kelerot examined his wrist. "Was that what you were doing?"

"You caught on quick," Daikon said, nodding. "Good work. But you were only able to because I told you about it. Yet you can misdirect them into believing you weren't if you're adept at it."

"Studying my opponent…," Kelerot mumbled. That does sound useful the more he thought about it, which was echoed in Daikon's expression. He knew his Master had figured something out.

"What I just did there was Delve you," Daikon explained. "Delving uncovers a complete analysis of your opponent. What they've learned, how they fight, what they know, where they've been, who they've been with, even memories they had locked away years ago long since forgotten. You essentially immerse yourself in your opponent's 'true' self. You know what they know, remember what they remember, and so on."

There was a lot to process, Kelerot realized. Using such a technique to study his friends? He'd have to ask all his questions later. For now, he was eager to learn more about this technique.

"So you learn how your opponent fights to find flaws?" Kelerot asked. Daikon's face lit up. "Exactly! That's the benefit of Delving!"

It would be a difficult technique to master, indeed. Kelerot could sense a shift in pressure around him. The thought of discovering every secret your opponent was hiding, perhaps even honest feelings – he immediately thought of Perilla – may be too embarrassing to consider whether he wanted to learn Delving or not.

"I can tell you're having second thoughts," Daikon said. Was this something he knew from Delving him?

Kelerot let out a sigh. "Does Delving actually reveal everything about your opponent?"

"It was something I discovered when I mastered it," Daikon said, though loathe to admit it. "There is no limit to the extent you can Delve someone. Though I highly recommend you restrict Delving to studying nothing but the flaws in your opponent. There may also be techniques you discover as you adapt to the ability to help you survive."

He stared Kelerot down. "If you choose to learn this technique, then take my hand." He held his hand out before nodding his head towards the dojo entrance. "If you decline, then you may leave. But should you do, our conversation must remain a secret between us. Even if you choose to learn it, this stays between us. Do I have your word?"

Daikon's hand became an offer of a handshake. Learn to Delve and increase the chances of survival, huh? Or walk away and never discover the benefits? It was clear that Daikon only intended for this special lesson to be taught once, deal or no deal.

"It's an important decision," Daikon said. Rather than leave his hand out, he draped it across Kelerot's shoulders, leading him out. "Tell you what, you don't need to decide right away. Take some time to consider my offer and let me know when you're made up your mind."

Kelerot watched his feet move towards the entrance. He stared, willing his feet to stop. Decide right away? Wait until later? How often would Perilla and Spinack pester him to spill the beans on what he and Daikon discussed?

What if they were spying on them from outside? Panic swept in him as he dashed outside to check. He used his ki senses to locate them and was relieved when they indeed went home.

Another laugh came from Daikon. "Were you worried your friends were eavesdropping?"

"Yes, Master," said Kelerot, hanging his head.

"Relax. Touch the outside wall for me, would you?" Daikon said, pointing to the outer wall. Kelerot pressed his hand, but he could tell there was something about the air much thicker than anywhere else. He tapped against it, revealing a ripple that swam through what looked to be a barrier of sorts.

"A barrier to ward out outsiders. They can't see or hear anything from inside as long as the barrier's up. That way, prying eyes like yours and your friends can't see what I'm teaching the adults when you're supposed to be planting trees."

Busted.

Kelerot wasn't sure how often he, Perilla, and Spinack tried to peek in the dojo while the adults were having their lessons with Daikon, but he was sure the Master had only drawn shades to block out sunlight. "I wondered why Perilla kept saying she couldn't see anything when I held her on my shoulders."

He glanced back at Perilla's house. Thinking back to having her on his shoulders made the heat rise in his cheeks. He shook his head quickly. "I probably shouldn't distract myself if I'm going to learn this."

Daikon's face lit up a moment. "So you've decided?"

"Yes."

"Then come back in, and we'll begin."

Daikon sat across from Kelerot, holding his hands out. "Take my hands. When you do, I want you to concentrate on my lifeforce."

Kelerot closed his eyes. Through the haze of ki within Daikon, it was like trekking through the densest fog that obscured everything around him. There was no way to perceive which way to go once he had begun to connect with Daikon's ki to reach his lifeforce.

The further Kelerot went in, the more insurmountable Daikon's ki felt to him. It was as if he compared his lone self to that of the very cosmos itself when comparing his ki to Daikon's. He gained strength and control through his own ki over time while training under Daikon, but this depth of ki was beyond imagination. Could he even reach Daikon's lifeforce?

"Remember, you're not searching my ki. Filter out what you could sense as ki and what my lifeforce is. Picture what you perceive my lifeforce to be and focus on that," Daikon explained through the connection with Kelerot.

Picture his lifeforce. Kelerot conjured several images that he could perceive as similar to one's lifeforce. The brightest star in the sky, a lone firefly in the woods, a flickering candle, perhaps?

He isolated the candle in his mind, clearing his way through the remainder of the fog. He saw a speck of light and walked towards it. It seemed the right path as the light became brighter until a clear image of the flickering candle burning on its wick appeared before him.

"I found it," Kelerot whispered.

"Good. In essence, a person's lifeforce is a book that can be opened to read. No one expects their lifeforce to be Delved, which is why Delving opens their entire world to you. Now, concentrate and focus your ki on opening my lifeforce. Open the book."

"Open the book." Kelerot freed himself to his ki and siphoned it through the haze of Daikon's ki to reach the flickering candle of his lifeforce. The scenery in his mind changed once his ki reached the candle as the fog lifted completely, revealing a lone island on an undisturbed lake underneath a sea of universal spectacles. Kelerot was left awe-struck by the scenery before him.

"Don't lose yourself in your connection. Otherwise, you won't come back," Daikon said. Kelerot's brow furrowed. "I don't know what to do next. I've reached your lifeforce, but I can't sense what to open."

"That's when you look into the book you conjured in your mind," Daikon said. His voice was soothing through his explanation, which helped Kelerot ease through the process of this technique.

The book revealed pages of information until it opened to a random section when Kelerot willed the book to stop. From the pages, an image of Daikon was projected, an image that performed a complex Martial arts technique where he jumped, flipped backward and fired a ki blade from his foot in an arc-like pattern before he landed.

The candle's flame flickered before Kelerot realized it. He willed the book closed and stepped back to see that the natural illumination in the sky began to fade. Kelerot kept backing away from the candle until the ground slowed his movement. It was as if he stumbled upon a bog where his feet would end up trapped, forcing him to struggle. Each step was worse than the last until he could no longer move, caught in the muck.

He pulled at his legs, but the ground would not release them. His heart raced, frantically trying to pull with all of his strength. He channeled his ki into aiming at the ground, but there was no ki for him to draw from. The only ki he could detect was Daikon's. Reaching with his hand, he stretched his senses to channel Daikon's ki to free himself–

-Only to be jolted back into the dojo.

"—lerot…!" Daikon shouted, shaking him. Kelerot blinked the stinging sensation of sweat beads away before catching himself from falling on his back.

Daikon held him steady. "Are you alright…?"

"Y-yeah," Kelerot whispered.

"Thank goodness I brought you out when I did. You came close to doing something dangerous while Delving me," Daikon said. Kelerot's hands were still shaking when he glanced at them.

"I couldn't free myself, Master," Kelerot said. His voice was still low, as if the experience had sapped much of his energy while attempting the technique.

"It's one of the risks of using this technique. You can't spend too much time because you'll lose yourself in the person you're Delving. Get in, study their techniques, and get out while you still have control over your ki. The consequence is that you lose yourself. Had you channeled my ki, you would've damaged your mind and spirit."

Kelerot's eyes widened. Damage my mind?!

"I've seen former students of mine lose their sanity because they became too greedy with Delving. It's a treasure trove of knowledge ripe for the taking, but their personalities merge too much with those they Delve that they no longer remain mentally stable."

It didn't help relax Kelerot's hands, listening to his Master speak of the dangers in such a straightforward fashion. Hearing the man speak from experience meant he'd have to consider his lesson with utmost wisdom.

"I understand, Master Daikon," Kelerot said, bowing.

Daikon helped Kelerot to his feet. "Good. You must remember these rules if you want to master Delving,

"Number 1: Delving is only used to study your opponent's techniques and fighting styles. Don't ever use it to sneak around.

"Number 2: The techniques you Delve do not last long in your memory. Whatever you study, you must train it in your mind to retain them. It can be useful if you need survival techniques. Natural abilities can also be studied and trained if needed.

"Number 3: Do not, under any circumstance, use Delving to channel your opponent's ki, nor siphon it to your own. You are using your ki to study others. Do not selfishly gain more power than you currently have to become stronger."

Kelerot bowed again. "I understand, Master Daikon. I shall take these lessons to heart and uphold them."

Daikon nodded. "Good. You may go now. Come after classes for the rest of the week, and we will practice more until you have a firm grasp of Delving. I only ask, in return, that you don't use it on your friends."

There goes that idea, Kelerot thought. He bowed one last time to Daikon before he left the dojo, opening the door to a bright light…

Escape

…Bright light.

Too bright.

Kelerot attempted to shield his eyes, but something held his wrists down. Unable to move, he waited until his eyes could adjust to the illumination before gauging what had happened and where he was.

What is this place?

When the room wasn't completely saturated in intense light, Kelerot could see where it was he had awakened. There were items similar to those he remembered from the Prison infirmary but no sign of machines and healing tanks. It had the feel of an infirmary room with beds and health monitoring equipment, but none of the hi-tech gadgetry he was accustomed to.

The restraints attached to his wrists, ankles, and torso bound him to a vertical platform against the wall, secured and forced into another prison as before. There was no give to the restraints Kelerot struggled against. Either they were incredibly durable, or he was weakened.

Weakened…

The memory of a bright flash of light had resurfaced. He was caught in a blast that he was sure had killed him, only he miraculously withstood the explosion. I survived somehow.

A pair of doors slid open to reveal a young woman wearing a nurse's outfit. He remembered nurse scrubs, a familiar garment he often saw the women at the prison wear while they treated him for his innumerable injuries from those fights. The nurse that entered paused when she saw him look at her.

"Generals, he's awake," she said through an intercom. Approaching him, she examined his vitals on a monitor to his left. He craned his neck to look, but it was barely out of his line of sight to get a specific reading. "How are you feeling?" she asked him.

Kelerot had stared too long at the corner of the monitor that he almost tuned out the nurse's question. His body screamed in agony. It was like someone grabbed him by the ankle and repeatedly slammed his body against the surface of a rocky outcrop. "Like I should be dead."

He couldn't see what the nurse was doing, but when she appeared in his field of vision, she had a vial of green liquid inserted into the chamber of a needle gun. Placing the gun into his arm, Kelerot felt a small sting as the needle injected the liquid.

"What's that you're putting in my body?" Kelerot asked.

"A healing serum," said the nurse. She pulled the vial out and discarded it before turning to watch the monitor. "You suffered critical injuries to your internal organs. You also had a punctured lung from a broken rib. The serum restored everything inside you to keep you alive, but it will be a while before you're a hundred percent."

Kelerot breathed deeply to test her theory. It was still labored, but if what she said was true, it would've been worse had his internal injuries not been treated. The serum did help ease the aches through his body, granting him some reprieve. Jiren had done a number on him.

"Generals Dyspo and Kahseral will arrive shortly to speak with you. They asked me to notify them once you were awake," the nurse told him. Their names sent a wave of hostility that numbed the pain through his body. If his hands were free, he'd have them wrapped around Dyspo's neck first before he would deal with Kahseral. As much as he wanted Toppo – and only Toppo – dead by his hand, he wouldn't mind having Dyspo as an alternative.

He stared at the doors, glaring at the space that those two Pride Troopers would soon occupy. Generals or not, Kelerot only saw them as the jailors who would suffer his wrath.

Dyspo, the lanky Pride Trooper who looked like a purple rabbit, and Kahseral, a humanoid dressed in combat fatigues, a beret, and an eyepiece that looked too sophisticated for hi-tech, entered the room, pausing once they locked eyes with Kelerot.

"I never thought we'd meet again after so long, criminal," Dyspo muttered. His voice was on the cusp of harshly scolding Kelerot, but the presence of Kahseral seemed to restrain him to a degree. Kahseral regarded him silently before turning to the nurse. "Excuse us, please."

The nurse bowed before she left. Opening a digital pad, Dyspo ran his fingers across the screen. He then read from it.

"Two hundred eighty-two prisoners," Dyspo began to recite. His voice was still steady, but Kelerot could hear the hostility boiling to the surface. "Six nurses, one doctor, Commander Tupper, Commander Vuon, Forty guards, Vice Warden Satula, Twenty top security personnel, twenty administrative employees, and Warden Kutlerie himself. Only one Librarian was unaccounted for due to her being off-site."

A wave of relief overcame Kelerot's anger for a moment. Skilette took my advice. Thank goodness.

"Three hundred and seventy-three lives, lost. Do you have anything to say for yourself, number 841-120?" Dyspo demanded. Kelerot couldn't gauge how tight the General was holding that digital pad, but those knuckles must be about the same color as his gloves. It was, however, tedious to hear those numbers spat back at him again.

"I won't answer any questions until you address me by my actual name," Kelerot responded.

Dyspo slammed the digital pad so hard on the floor it shattered everywhere in the room. He then stabbed a finger in front of Kelerot. "Your name means nothing! You have no identity! You are the property of the Pride Troopers! You're under our jurisdiction until we determine whether you are rehabilitated to live in our just and law-abiding federation!"

"I could say the same for you when you wear that outfit," Kelerot grimaced. Dyspo's jaw dropped. If Kahseral wasn't there to hold him back, Dyspo would've pounced and added to his injuries.

"General, calm yourself," Kasheral said. "He's playing to your emotions. Let me handle the questioning."

Pieces of glass and plastic crunched under Dyspo's boots as he stalked out the room in a huff. Kahseral pursed his lips, assessing the damage on the floor. "If you're unable to cooperate with Dyspo, are you at least willing to answer my questions?"

Kelerot leered at him. "Only if you say my name."

Kahseral frowned. "You're in no place to order us, prisoner."

"Then I'm keeping my mouth shut," Kelerot said. He continued to leer at the Pride Trooper until Kaheral narrowed his eye seconds later.

"Very well. If I remember your arrest record, you went by Kelerot, correct?"

Kelerot grinned. "That's better. Now I'll answer your questions."

Kahseral bared his teeth slightly before composing himself. "You're treading a thin line in doing this."

"I have nothing left to lose, General," Kelerot replied. His aching body had dulled enough that he could muster the strength to give Kahseral one good intimidating glare.

Kahseral proved to be braver than others, Kelerot realized. Even though he needed Kasheral to view him cautiously, it did not make the Pride Trooper budge. Kelerot grinned. I have to be careful with this one.

"Why did you escape the Prison?" was Kasheral's first question. An obvious one considering the circumstances Kelerot found himself in. He escaped; that much was obvious. But Kahseral demanded a reason.

"I found out through Tupper and Vuon that your Warden was corrupted by his lust for power. Not one prisoner was granted parole, no matter how well behaved they were," Kelerot explained. He wasn't certain to what degree Kahseral was surprised by his answer, but the Pride Trooper was still calmly waiting for the rest of Kelerot's answer.

"Knowing that they would never lie, I secured my means of escape with their help, albeit with some degree of persuasion."

"What do you mean?" Kahseral asked. Kelerot wanted to show him his black hole bomb technique, but he had pitiable amounts of ki left in his body that he'd kill himself if he ever made another one. He needed to choose his words carefully.

"I mean that your friends knew of his corruption, but they were either powerless or gutless to do anything. I used one of my techniques as a bargaining chip, but someone triggered it once I left the Prison, destroying the facility. That's why so many lives were lost earlier."

The eyepiece on Kahseral blipped and whirred until the Pride Trooper pressed a button on the side. Kelerot could detect a bead of sweat trickling down his face. He must know that Kelerot was telling the truth. Having nothing left to lose, what good would it do him to lie?

"I can't detect any lies in your statement, unfortunately, but the fact that it was something of your design that had destroyed the facility could still implicate you in the senseless slaughter of innocent lives among the guilty," Kahseral stated. His voice was still steady, but Kelerot could hear varying degrees of anxiety and anger as he spoke.

Kahseral had to force himself to steel his emotions once he heard Kelerot chuckle. "Do you think this is funny?!"

"Ironic, actually," Kelerot said through laughter. "I'm being implicated for something I wasn't directly involved with. It was the same fifteen years ago when I had to be your lapdog of justice and forced into your dog pound because I was such a 'bad boy' in your eyes."

Kahseral was almost at his limit. Kelerot kept a smug look on the Pride Trooper, for he dared not escalate it further. He knew why he had built up years of rage to be unleashed on these three, Toppo being his top priority. But knowing his current physical state didn't afford him many options but to placate their idiotic one-dimensional sense of justice in such a mocking fashion.

The tone was broken up by a janitor entering the room. They exchanged awkward looks while he cleaned the mess Dyspo made, biding their time in silence until he left. At least this allowed the tension to diminish.

"I don't understand why Tupper and Vuon would elect to aid in your escape. It isn't like them to betray their code of conduct," Kahseral pondered. "Did you truly force them to help you against their will?"

"Not entirely," Kelerot said. "If they weren't so duty-bound to the Prison, they probably would've left with me. I wouldn't be surprised if they brought me to you directly to vouch for what they witnessed."

Kahseral reached for his beret, ready to remove it. Instead, his hand rested on his eyepiece, which still baffled him with the readings he picked up. "Still no lies detected. How is this possible?"

"I told you. I have nothing left to lose," Kelerot said. He wanted to breathe a sigh of annoyance, but the more he stressed himself with frustration, the more he realized that the medicine must've had a secondary effect of making him drowsy. He did not want to go back to sleep so soon.

"You do not realize the situation you've put all of us in," Kahseral said. He eased himself against the end of the bed opposite Kelerot. "Regardless of your honesty, your actions are still punishable by death."

Kelerot gritted his teeth. Sentenced to death yet again…!

He balled his hands into fists or tried to anyway. Glaring at Kahseral, he snapped. "I have done nothing wrong! My only crime was being at the wrong place at the wrong time, yet you still punish me! Surely you must've realized it?!"

Kelerot forced tears back from forming in his eyes. He realized the desperation escalating in his voice and lowered his head. Kahseral had to believe him!

"I had reservations about your arrest," Kahseral said. His voice was calm yet still nostalgic. "I could not say anything because it was not my decision. If you had served with us as a Pride Trooper, you would've understood how important our hierarchy was to us."

"Then you still have an opportunity to do what's right," Kelerot pleaded. "You lead the Pride Troopers now, don't you? Think outside the box for once!"

It was Kahseral's turn to silence Kelerot with an intimidating look. "While I could pardon your sentence for something you admit you had no direct involvement in fifteen years ago, it still does not excuse your blatant disregard for our laws with the fiasco you pulled."

He stood stoically in front of Kelerot with his hands behind his back. "We cannot afford to have someone as powerful as you roaming the galaxy at your leisure. It would undermine what we have upheld for generations."

"Then you're a coward," Kelerot muttered. Kahseral winced at the remark, but his gaze remained steady.

"You have two choices," Kahseral said, dismissing Kelerot's banter. "The first is that you surrender to Lord Barbon and Lady Marcarita. They will imprison you in a special containment box where you will remain in stasis for eternity."

Eternal imprisonment. Locked away in some strange stasis box while being watched by the one he swore to kill until the end of time. The whole thought left him hollow and nauseated.

Kelerot swallowed. "What's the other choice…?"

Kahseral stared him in the eye. It was as if his face was mere inches from Kelerot's. "Lord Barbon destroys you."

The second option sounded no less favorable than the first. Choose to die or choose to live forever in a box? It made him hate Toppo even more. He couldn't care less what that bastard decided to call himself now. Barbon or Toppo, he was still the same target.

"I should've been dead at the hands of Jiren," Kelerot said. "At least that way, it wouldn't have given you the satisfaction of dictating how I go out."

"Jiren knew when to hold back so you wouldn't die," Kahseral told him. "He was ordered to secure you, not kill you. Lord Barbon does not have such reservations as a God of Destruction."

Kelerot rolled his eyes. "What difference does it make who kills me? You either want me dead or out of your sight."

This time, Kahseral was inches from Kelerot's face. "You misunderstood my second choice. Lord Barbon won't kill you. He'll destroy you. What that means is that you'll cease to exist. No afterlife, no otherworld, nothing. It will be quick and simple. You have until morning to decide."

Kahseral turned and marched out of the room, signaling a nurse to re-enter to continue her examination. Kelerot's face was still fixed on the space Kahseral once occupied. That second option now sounded even less favorable than the first.

The whole situation was aggravating. Beaten to near-death by Jiren, forced to choose which side of the fate coin they wanted him to face, and now fighting the effects of the medication the nurse injected him with. If he succumbed to sleep now, it would seal his fate. He considered the hidden third option: Escape the hospital and remain incognito until he fully recovered.

The nurse from earlier returned to continue monitoring Kelerot's vitals. "Still not asleep?"

"I've slept enough," Kelerot said, though it was tough with his eyelids drooping the way they were. It was as if he accidentally channeled a gravity field around his eyes, forcing them closed. He was curious about how much time had passed, however. "How long was I sleeping for?"

"From what I've been told, two days," said the nurse. She dimmed the lights. There was still warmth in her gaze, even though Kelerot suspected she was told many horrible things about him from Kahseral and Dyspo.

"Two days. How could I sleep now knowing that I'll be executed tomorrow? What good would it do me?" asked Kelerot.

"I'm sorry. That's outside my area of expertise. General Dyspo only asked me to keep you alive until then," the nurse said.

I'm so hungry. Fighting sleep and hunger now? He'd rather die in his sleep than at the hands of Toppo.

He looked pleadingly at the nurse, but she was already on her way out, closing the door behind her. He continued to shake his head, even banging the back of it against the platform he was secured to. He had to resort to any means to keep himself awake. If he could free his hand, he'd slap himself hard.

Kelerot stared at his hands for a moment. Opening and closing them, they at least distracted him enough to consider a way to break out of these restraints. He wasn't sure what they were made out of, but they must have accounted for his weakened state not to bother with something sturdy. He could've been restrained by cardboard, and it would've still been a struggle.

Come on, Kelerot. Think! There has to be some way out of this! What the hell have you been Delving into all those opponents for?

He almost completely forgot the Delving technique he learned from Daikon. Dammit, Jiren knocked me around far worse than I realized.

Pushing sleep aside, Kelerot closed his eyes to focus on his mind and ki. He searched his memories for what he had Delved from Jiren, assessing the freakish Pride Trooper's arsenal of techniques to find something that would help break him from these bindings.

Each technique, Kelerot realized, had a singular purpose: to hurt and hurt a lot. The notion sent a shiver through his body. Despite how frightening they were, Kelerot knew adding a few to his cache of Delved techniques would come in handy at some point.

He tested his ki control. He considered that using one of Jiren's techniques would backfire if his ki wasn't fully in his favor. It was worth the risk to destroy the room if the power output was too much to handle.

Kelerot focused on a single point, the bolts that held the restraints in place. He played the technique several times in his mind, picturing how Jiren performed the technique. Once he had a good foundation for it, he widened his eyes, channeling ki to create a flash of energy concentrated on the bolts. It wasn't as scary as to how Jiren would normally use it, but it was strong enough to shatter the metal, causing pieces to fall to the floor with several clangs. A lock soon fell, which had been out of Kelerot's line of sight. He felt around for the rest of the restraints with his free hand and discovered that they were also under lock and key. The rest of the process was simple now, knowing that he at least had enough strength to rip out the remaining locks.

However, he was still considerably weak, as if he was dead weight set to fall forward once he was free. He would have crashed if he hadn't corrected his posture to slide along the platform to touch the floor.

Pausing to consider his strength, Kelerot had to figure the noise of the shattered metal would have alerted someone outside the room. Hobbling on his still-weakened legs, he rushed to the first bed to duck down and peek over the sheets to the doors.

As he waited, his ears picked up the sounds of raindrops tapping against the window, followed by a loud thunderclap. He peeked behind the curtain to see black skies occasionally illuminated by flashes of lightning through the clouds. He was so focused on breaking free that he hadn't paid attention to the weather. Maybe this was his first lucky break if the weather muffled the noise from inside?

Kelerot pulled the curtain aside to reveal the window. It was closed and secured with a latch to prevent leaking, but Kelerot knew he could use this to escape. Lightning flashed once again, illuminating the ground below. He figured it couldn't have been too high if he risked jumping from the window.

He glanced once more at the doors. "If I use enough ki, I can cushion the fall with an anti-gravity field."

Lifting the latch, Kelerot slid the window open. The winds sprayed water across the area, soaking his face and clothes. He didn't care how water-logged he would be after this. He bought himself a ticket to freedom – for now – and wasted no time cashing it in.

Channeling a minuscule portion of his ki, he slowed his fall to the ground, releasing the anti-gravity field before landing. Once on the ground, he sidled against the wall, utilizing the obscurity of both nightfall and thunderstorms to watch for signs of Pride Trooper activity. He figured activity would be light, considering they believed he couldn't escape the restraints, but he was unwilling to risk it. Little did they know he had his Master's teachings to guide him through and survive the night.

His search brought him to a wooded area across from the parking lot, where it was mostly empty, save a few vehicles that likely belonged to overnight staff. He stayed low and moved swiftly, ignoring the pain coursing through his body. Using ki in such a state aggravated the pain that the medicine was supposed to numb and heal, but it was a necessary risk. He reached the first vehicle he could find, sneaking around while watching for activity. So far, so good. It was too dark and wet for anyone to warrant walking around freely, but Kelerot couldn't care less. If he got sick from this, then so be it.

He gave himself a few more minutes before making a break for the woods. It must've led to the city limits if lights could be seen from the other side. That was where Kelerot would hide and plan his next course of action while staying a step ahead of the Pride Troopers.