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The moment Bulma woke up, head resting on the arm that had lost feeling in it an hour ago, she knew that something was wrong.
Sitting up, she blinked, and kept on blinking until her muddled vision started to clear. She was in her lab, with hand drawn blueprints for Sixteen messily arrayed around her as though she had been making a nest. The android himself was resting, inert and deactivated on the large slab of a table that had been his sole residency for the last several weeks, new batteries puling a charge from a cable connected to the port hidden beneath where his green vestments would normally cover on his chest.
Standing up, Bulma held her painfully tingling arm with the other as she shambled away from the computer stations and up the stairs towards the living quarters. Silence followed her, which by itself wasn't very surprising considering that it was far too late, or early, for anyone to be bustling around, not even her bubbly mother. But there was something in that lack of noise that left her ill at ease, feeling cold fingers walking down her back in some form of premonition of dread.
To the kitchen she went, hoping to find some stale coffee in the carafe and dispel this unusual feeling as quickly as she could. Finding none of the beverage left over from whenever the last pot had been brewed, she settled instead for a glass of water. Pulling a cup from the sink, she rinsed it out once before filling it and draining it in one go. Now she felt slightly more present, but the cloud of uneasiness stayed with her as she looked around the darkened household, waiting for something of blame be made apparent.
And still the silence prevailed. She was used to constant noise these days, whether it was the various machines of her lab whirring and buzzing, the time traveler making use of the Gravity Chamber out back, or the baby version of her son crying up a-
Bulma paled in the gloom, clumsily setting the glass down and half sprinting up the stairs to her room, where Trunks' crib was kept. Swinging the door open, her eyes immediately snapped to the gently swaddled infant, dozing peacefully. Then she took in that the baby was being held by someone, gently bouncing him while a low hum accompanied whatever dreams he was having. Then, last of all, Bulma really saw who it was sitting on the side of her bed with her son in their arms, staring down at the half saiyan with garnet eyes.
"He's got Vegeta's frown, isn't that cute?" Sel murmured, not so much as glancing at the heiress, who had frozen in place, wracked with panic and indecision. "Of course, he's probably got a whole lot less to be cross about, so it's cuter on him."
Bulma was mute, even if she had tried to speak, to talk, to scream, to beg. She had never seen the biodroid in person, but from all of the accounts she had heard and the absolute feeling of alarm she was getting just by looking at her, it was a fairly simple leap in logic. Trunks, the older one, was sleeping in the guest bedroom just next door, but if she tried in any way to call for him, to warn him, she didn't have any doubt that Sel could kill all of them before he could even get out of bed. She had millions of thoughts racing through her brilliant mind, and absolutely zero options.
"Babies fascinate me," Sel admitted with a bit of a chuckle, readjusting the boy in her arms. "I mean, they're just so damn innocent, without any opinions or ulterior motives or aspirations. They just subsist on affection and milk; the best kind of parasite, really." Her voice never once rose above a raised whisper.
Bulma at last managed a single step forward, not daring to take her eyes away from the killer android. She only knew that she needed to get Trunks out of her hands as fast as she could. If she died doing so then fine, but her child took entire priority right then, regardless of rational thought or logic that told her to think about the situation before she acted.
Sel at last looked up from the baby, setting her predatory yet teasing gaze on the widow. She was smirking as well, just a fractional upturn of a corner of her lips. "Are you going to try and take him from me? Come at me like a mamma bear protecting her cubs?" She stood up, the bed's springs creaking slightly. She took three steps until she was right in front of Bulma, half a head taller and decidedly more muscular than the genius. The smirk transformed all the way into a challenging smile, her unstained teeth reflecting some of the dull light filtering in from the hallway.
Bulma stared back into the eyes of death, conscious of everything at once and nothing at all except her baby boy and the impossibly powerful monster that had him. Slowly, wrestling against her body's paralyzing fear and alarm, she reached forward and wrapped her hands under Trunks, never breaking eye contact with Sel. The dangerous gleam in Sel's eyes faded as she eased the baby into his mother's arms, where he was instantly cradled close to her chest while she trembled uncontrollably.
"Get in contact with all of the Z-Fighters and tell them that I will be waiting at the location of two of Goku's defeats this evening. They can come if they want, it won't really change anything, but I think I would be nice to give them some closure." She looked back down at the sleeping infant and ghosted her index finger along his forehead. "So innocent," she said again, before sliding around the blunette and vanishing faster than Bulma could turn around.
She stood stock still for several seconds, but her composure couldn't last forever and she sank to her knees on the carpeted floor, crying wretchedly into the blanket her son was wrapped in. This woke him up and he added his own desperate peals to her own. A moment later, future Trunks was in the doorway, wearing sweat pants and a tank top and looking panicked. But he couldn't comfort her, just as he couldn't have saved her if something had gone wrong.
The message was clear: "nothing can save you now."
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The warriors once again assembled in the Briefs' family room, all of them already dressed for combat. Goku, Krillin and Yamcha all wore their Turtle School gis;Tien was just in his usual Crane style pants and boots; Piccolo had both mantle and turban on over his own purple gi; and Trunks was donning a blue body glove and white and yellow armored vest, designed by Bulma to somewhat mimic what Vegeta used to wear, a look that was being mirrored by Gohan. Sixteen, at last fully repaired and acclimated to his adjustments, had received a replica of his bulky vest, save that this one was given the Capsule Corp colors of white with blue trim and completely lacking in identifying emblem, at his own request.
"It has to be Papaya Island," Goku surmised for all of them, "I've never lost twice in the same place before."
"Wasn't that where the old Budokai tournaments were held?" Trunks queried, recalling some of the oldest stories he had been told.
"Yes, it was." Piccolo, as ever, was entirely stoic, with arms crossed and glaring a hole into the wall opposite the one he was leaning against. "Goku lost in the finals of both the twenty first and the twenty second tournaments. In the twenty third, he and I fought and the arena was subsequently destroyed. They had to move to Orange Star City after that and the island was abandoned last I heard."
"Why would she be waiting for us there?" Yamcha wondered, trying not to fidget in his seat. He didn't much like marching towards certain death, but he tried not to show it too badly. He had actually been at baseball practice when Bulma's call came, and he hadn't hesitated in walking right out of the stadium, absently telling the coach that he was quitting as he did so.
"It's secluded. No one there to watch." All eyes turned towards Gohan, but he didn't seem to be about to volunteer any more thoughts, looking down at his feet and running the golden tip of one boot along the heel of the other.
"I guess-" Krillin stopped to glance at Sixteen, a strange look flitting across his face almost too fast for anyone to recognize it as regret. "I guess there's no point in waiting around here any more. We've all said our good-byes, and that's the best we can do. We don't have any new Senzu beans, but I don't really think they would have helped anyway." Saying this, he stood up from his seat and walked from the room, being soon followed by the others as they rose and left, one by one.
Only Goku lingered. Piccolo looked back from the doorway at the saiyan, asking a question without words. Goku smiled, weakly and without any cheer. "Go on ahead – there's something I have to do before I catch up."
Whether Piccolo knew what he was thinking or not, the namekian respected Goku's wish and nodded once before departing. Goku hesitated a second longer, tapping one foot on the ground to no beat in particular, before he resolutely lifted his head and paced out a different door towards the greenhouse.
Bulma was sitting on a bench just past the twin glass doors, little Trunks on her knee and playing with a rubber ring toy. She looked up at him, and a silent conversation took place in seconds between the old friends. She hoisted Trunks up against her chest while standing and walking back into the house and down into the labs, Goku following right behind.
They passed through her main lab and into a secondary one that was hardly ever used anymore. From there, she led him to a large metal door in the far wall with a digital lock, which she was quick to tap a seven digit combination into and release the large clasps holding the door closed with thunks that were felt more than heard. Her part done, Bulma stood to the side, allowing Goku to crack the door open and enter the cold-storage room. It had been empty for years, but now a single, pill shaped device dominated the central floor space. Wider in circumference than Goku could wrap his arms around and longer than he was tall, it was bereft of anything to identify what its function was except for a single oval pane of thick glass set into the face of the pod, completely clouded with frost. But Goku didn't need to wipe it away to know what he would see through it.
With his breath fogging and skin starting to redden, the saiyan of Earth stepped up next to the cryo-pod and rested his hand on the smooth surface, closing his eyes. He stood there, silent, for a long while, allowing his regret and guilt to rush through him.
And then, like the rising of the sun, a small, thin smile grew on his face. In his head, he could imagine what would have been said if the situation was different: "Oh, quit your whining Kakarot. If I wanted you worrying over me like a nanny then I would have asked for it; and then something would REALLY have been wrong with me. Don't you dare stay here any longer you clown. Get your face away from me and go crush that android before I do it myself!"
"Never could stand being out of a fight," Goku murmured, grinning fondly. "I guess this one's on me." He then turned and strode out, feeling the massive burden he had been carrying, but now accepting it just a little bit more.
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"That doesn't count! You know just as well as I that those circumstances were already under the direct supervision of the Supreme Kai's attendent, making it a higher matter than what we had jurisdiction over."
North leaned over the table to get his face closer to East, a vein pounding in his temple. "And what did it start as? A conflict on a SINGLE planet between THREE people! You can't honestly tell me that we weren't involved in that situation any less that Kibito was!"
West jerked in his seat and opened his mouth.
"And I don't care that I just called him by name! He's our superior, not our god!"
"That would be blasphemy coming from anyone else," South noted calmly, jingling the diminished ice cubes around the bottom of his glass, his third so far.
"We're getting nowhere by bogging ourselves down in the matters of the past to try to justify or discount the situation at hand," Grand Kai said as he let the back of his head thunk against his chair's headrest. They had been going back and forth for quite awhile, making the elder kai regret never adding a clock in the meeting hall, or even getting around to buying a watch. They could quite literally have been here for days and they wouldn't really have noticed.
"I completely agree Grand Kai, which is why I believe this drama queen here should learn not to waste our time with an impossibility that borders on the insane!" West slapped his hand down on the table for emphasis, rattling his own cups in the process.
"Oh yeah?" North turned to glare at his counterpart, sunglasses glinting dangerously. "Well, if what I'm proposing is so frigging impossible, then why are we still arguing about it then?"
"Because," East piped up, a scowl of her own matching his, "we're trying to figure out a way to stop this threat without overstepping our boundaries and potentially ripping the fabric of reality between the dimensions in the process. You're the one still hung up it."
"I'm telling you, it'll work!" North threw his hands up in exasperation, glowering up at the shadowed alabaster of the ceiling. South, who had impressively managed to remain mostly neutral so far, took advantage of the lull to lean forward, one forearm against the edge of the table as a buffer between him and it.
"We're sitting here arguing about it and wasting whatever time we do have, when it would just be so much simpler to rationally, and calmly," he gave North a meaningful look, "list out the pros and cons of the method in question."
"It's against the rules!" West immediately shouted, trying to drink from an empty cup for several seconds before his brain caught up with him and he set it back down. "It's something that we were explicitly banned from doing long ago after it nearly caused a Universe wide cataclysm last time those unqualified tried to perform it."
They all looked towards North, ready for his counter-argument; but, quite unexpectedly, the anger seemed to have abandoned the kai completely, leaving him deflated and still. He tapped a lone finger against tabletop, thinking.
"I have been watching the Earth for awhile now. I've seen what kinds of trouble they get into, and what they have survived. Please, believe me when I say that there is no one else in the entire mortal realm I would even possibly consider for this than him. He is...he's the one that could make this work. The only one."
They were silent after that, taken aback by the quiet and sincere nature of his words. Each one of them were thinking if there was anyone whom they could have such absolute faith it, someone capable of making a god plead on his behalf.
Grand Kai stood, slowly and with measured movements. He appraised the four other kais sitting in front of him carefully, knowing that, ultimately, it was his decision on the matter that would mean the most, and his decision would influence how they all saw him and felt towards their duties.
"Bring him before us," he decided, bobbing his head contemplatively, "let us see what you have seen in him. Then, we may yet come to a decision about this whole matter."
North nodded quickly, springing from his seat and hurrying from the hall, not even trying to maintain his composure. This was more than he had hoped, and he wasn't about to waste what may be the one chance they got.
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Even while flying at high speeds, it took a few minutes before Papaya Island grew from just a smudge on the horizon into the formerly inhabited home of the World Martial Arts Tournament. It was still a wreck, with nearly all of the buildings leveled from Piccolo's Hellzone Grenade. But right in the middle of all the carnage, where the crater should have been, was an unmistakable arena. Basically a duplicate of the original one, this one bore signs of damage: burns and cracks covered nearly the entire surface, leaving only a few patches of untarnished white marble visible. It didn't take too long for them to realize that it was entirely constructed from the rubble around it, larger, bare sections of rock that looked like they had been carved with a gigantic knife marred the already damaged scenery.
Setting down on the sidelines of the arena, they scanned their immediate vicinity with cautious eyes, but none of them spotted their host.
"You don't think she tricked us into coming here so she wouldn't have any trouble destroying the planet do you?" Trunks asked of the group at large, not letting his eyes wander away from any number of ambush points he had noted.
Piccolo grunted. "Even if she didn't, there's really no use in us being here at all. But I think she meant it when she told Bulma she would meet us here."
"She's lied before," Goku remarked grimly, glancing sidelong at his old nemesis. "But I imagine you're just going to say (and here he adopted an absolutely ridiculous impression of Piccolo that caused the namekian to make a face similar to if he had smelt something repulsive) 'she only lied when it benefited her'."
Right at that moment, Sel descended from the sky and into the center of the reassembled ring, barely making a sound but drawing the eyes of them all. She gave Goku a smirk.
"That would be accurate, and please, never do that voice again."
The Z-Fighters all squared their shoulders, tensing for whatever attack she may throw at them. This caused the android to laugh, high and flutey.
"Oh relax you lunks, I'm not going to blow you all up right now; that's later in the program." They still didn't ease up, and Sel's smile fell into a disappointed frown. "Tough crowd. Look, I'm trying to be nice here, so would you all stop being such tight asses and listen to me."
"You're going to kill us all, so why should we give you the satisfaction of hearing you out?" Tien demanded, assuming his fighting stance as he said so. Krillin and Yamcha immediately followed suit, and Trunks looked to be halfway in between. The other four, Goku, Gohan, Piccolo and Sixteen, all remained in there alert but neutral positions, eyeing the android with clear suspicion and wariness. Sel blew out a breath, annoyed at their stubbornness, but she couldn't really bring herself to blame them for it: Tien was completely true in his assessment, after all. She'd just have to throw her pitch and see what became of it.
"Yes, I'm going to kill all of you right alongside the Earth – that's not in question right now. I went out among the stars and saw many, many different things. Some beautiful, some bland, and some revolting. One of the worst things I witnessed were wars that consumed entire planets in flames and blood, countless thousands or millions cut down in a conflict without any meaning behind it. It truly impressed upon me that personal duels, between individuals was the only form of fighting that I could really stomach. That is why I invited you all here: though you are all doomed, I felt it appropriate to give each of you this chance to fight me in this ring, to the fullest of your capabilities, and assure yourselves that there was nothing more you could have done and allow you to die without that regret."
Her bombshell of a decision was met with full silence as each warrior wrapped their minds around her words, trying to puzzle out any secrets or loopholes that she had hidden underneath. It was such uncharacteristic behavior coming from something like her, something that had not too long ago drained entire cities of inhabitants without mercy or remorse.
Piccolo, ever the shrewdest of their number, took three steps forward, his cape swishing in the faint wind that danced over the smashed rock underfoot. "We have nothing to lose by fighting you, but everything to gain. This seems to be only in our favor."
Sel shrugged, looking down as she rubbed one of her wrists, though there wasn't anything on it or the other as far as they could see. "Empathy isn't something Gero gave me, nor is it something I possess even now, but it is something I can understand. If I were in your shoes, I know I would rather go out fighting than any other way else. I don't always need to have a reason for doing something if it's what I believe in."
Piccolo narrowed his eyes, not at all willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, but he couldn't really think of a feasible reason to refuse her offer. "You made sure that we came to a World Martial Arts arena, so I presume that this won't just be a bloodbath." The others slowly stepped forward as well, deciding to follow the namekian's example.
"Correct. There are three very simple rules that all of us will abide by. Rule number one: you do not talk about the-"
Yamcha couldn't stop the cackle that rose up from his chest. Tien gave him a disturbed look while Krillin just buried his face in his palms.
"Thank you Yamcha," Sel grinned, glad that at least someone had gotten the joke. "But seriously. Rule one: If uninterrupted, each fight will be a fight to the death unless a fighter yields." The humor from her joke instantly dried up, leaving everyone with a sinking feeling in their chests. "Rule two: Like the original WMAT, bringing a weapon into the ring or touching the ground outside of the ring will result in your immediate disqualification from participating. And third: Goku is forbidden from participating or intervening."
Goku flinched as her eyes locked onto his, sharp as a blade and twice as piercing. Somehow, he understood that she acknowledged him as having had his shot, whether he fought today or not, and the consequences of his intervention would be fatal. He nodded mutely to indicate his acceptance, and agreement.
"Very good then. Now shall we get started?" Sel crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly, scrutinizing all of them with a critical eye. "I didn't really give any thought as to who would start this whole thing, so I wouldn't mind a volunteer."
An orange gi marched forward and vaulted up onto the edge of the upraised arena. "I'm game."
Sel looked back into Krillin's resolute glare, slightly perturbed by the anger and resolve in his short frame. "That was fast. I take it you were meaning to be first anyway?"
"Yeah, pretty much. If this is about us finding closure, I figure that I could use some about now." He slid one leg back and raised his hands, index and middle fingers raised in half hooks. "Which is why I don't want you to hold back!"
Sel spread her arms out at her sides, grin returning at the issued challenge. "That's what I like to hear."
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King Kai landed back on his world with a bit of a stagger, too hasty for a proper entrance. Looking around, he didn't immediately spot the saiyan, not from where he stood on the minuscule planet, but he did notice a familiar orb of luminescence leisurely floating around.
"Gregory, where's Vegeta at? He needs to come with me right now."
The cricket turned in midair, startling at North's voice. "Well, I think I last saw him over by your house, but he's been ignoring Bubbles and me this whole time, so we've pretty much been ignoring him back." He shrugged and wandered off in search of the next distraction from their uniformly boring lives.
King Kai rolled his eyes as he hurried over to his home. Crossing over the worn stones of his driveway, he saw the distinct orange of a soul hovering stationary under the window to his living room, but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed the corona of colorless light emanating from it. It seemed like Vegeta had been continuing his soul training in his absence after all, which was fortunate for all of them because it would do nothing but help in the course of his plans.
"Look alive Vegeta, we need to go." The chuckle at his own joke died in his throat when the cottony cloud...changed. The formless contours warped and stretched, pulling the soft material in five directions at once, making an approximate humanoid shape with arms, legs and a head. Then the surface rippled until details took shape from the blobbiness. In only several seconds, a slightly disturbing silhouette of Vegeta was standing on the immaculately maintained, taking the look he had when he had died. On his face, which was empty for a few moments, his features appeared like they were being rapidly sculpted from clay. Of course, he was scowling.
'What is this about?' Curt and rude as ever, Vegeta crossed his arms and set an annoyed expression on the Kai. 'You leave for weeks after giving me the vaguest possible directions, and then show up without explanation and tell me we're leaving. Maybe Kakarot would be willing to go along with your inane commands, but I am used to at least a little logic in my instructions.'
"I've been holding a council with the other Kais of the cosmos, trying to get them to go along with a plan I came up with to hopefully solve our problems on Earth, and right now they all seem pretty against it, but they agreed to see you first."
'Me?' Vegeta raised an eyebrow, a look that translated rather poorly in his current form. 'What do I have to do with any plot of yours?'
"I'll explain on the way, but we really need to get going if we want to get back before they make up their minds."
Vegeta narrowed his eyes. 'You say that it could save the Earth?'
King Kai realized that he was on shaky ground here, as Vegeta might mistake his intentions. "It's the only way I can think of to stop Cell. Are you willing to hear me out?" The fact that he was practically pleading with the soul of a departed mortal would have been galling to the kai not so very long ago, but the times had changed, and with it the sense of natural superiority he had carried for most of his life. No longer could the kais sit on their high chairs and dictate the rules from a distance; it was the time for mortals to handle their own fates.
As if agreeing with his thoughts, Vegeta uncrossed his arms and nodded fractionally. 'Lead the way.'
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Krillin was blasted head over heels by the near miss, unable to dodge this one in time, the purple energy searing the underside of his arms when he tried to protect his face. Landing hard, he rolled several feet before he came to a rest on his stomach. He loosed a groan, trying to push himself up on shaky arms, but a foot landed on his back and forced him back down.
Sel pointed the palm of her hand at the back of the the ex-monk's head, a ball of pale blue ki expanding and buzzing threateningly, dangerously close. Krillin attempted to shake her off, to escape from beneath her heel, but he was exhausted and battered while she didn't have a single mark on her except for sizable patches of soot that coated her legs.
Finally giving in to the futility of his struggle, he went limp, breathing raggedly. Sel held her blast, waiting patiently.
"I...give up..." Krillin wheezed. Immediately, she stepped back and extinguished the built up ki, walking back to the center of the arena and taking up an expectant pose. Krillin managed to regain his feet and limp to the side, where Sixteen stepped forward to help him down. "Thanks big guy," the bald fighter grinned sadly at the towering android.
"You fought with all of your ability; there is nothing to be regretful about." Sixteen intoned as he matched his pace with Krillin's, speaking quietly so his words wouldn't be overheard.
Krillin chuckled sadly, holding an arm over what were surely cracked ribs. "That's not what I wanted closure for." And then they had rejoined the others, preventing Sixteen from inquiring further.
"Alright, who's next?" Sel called over, tapping her foot methodically. To her's and everyone else's surprise, it was Yamcha that stepped forward, swinging his arms around to work out their kinks.
"Let's see how well you do against me?" He grinned cheekily, bravado obviously fake but still meaningful. He was stopped by a hand landing on his shoulder. Looking back, the scar faced bandit wasn't too taken aback to see Tien's overly grim face staring back at him.
"Yamcha, you saw what she did to Krillin."
""Yeah, but we came here for a reason, and that wasn't to just chicken out at the last second. You went to fight King Piccolo even after the pot you were going to trap him in was broken, so why can't I fight Sel even after she's outmatched Goku?" He swiped his thumb over the Turtle School emblem on the upper left side of his gi.
Tien slowly grinned, clapping his hand on Yamcha's shoulder before taking it away. "Well said."
"Here's a thought," Sel spoke up, eyebrow raised at the macho camaraderie. "How about I let the two of you fight me at once?" The Z-Fighters all gaped at her, slightly more than shocked. "From what I recall in my memories, you two actually work quite well together, even managing to take out one of the little clones I had created awhile back. That's certainly a feat worth noting, if I may say so."
The two earthlings glanced at each other, exchanging curious looks. "Well, she offered..." Yamcha verbally shrugged.
"Oh god, don't say it like THAT!" Sel practically shrieked as she threw her balled up hands at her sides, causing the now former baseball star to flinch in embarrassment. Tien rolled his eyes and walked past him, wondering how someone could jam their foot so far into their mouth with so few words. The two were quick to mount the arena and walk until they were halfway between Sel and the edge. "When you two are ready." She inclined her head, curling her fingers until they popped and returning to a more composed state.
Yamcha and Tien readied themselves, assuming their respective fighting stances. A long stillness followed, everybody sizing up their opponent through the eyes of the experienced, the expectant and the wary.
With no word between them, the two humans launched forward, auras ablaze and creating a streak of brilliant light behind them. Yamcha went low while Tien aimed high. Sel brought up her leg to block with her shin and grabbed the triclops' fist in her own hand, twisting it to the side to force him along with it and fall past her, retaliating against the bandit with a kick in the same movement that knocked him away. Turning to the Crane style fighter, she flicked her arm as she released him, spinning him once and setting him up for a shoulder ram that expelled the oxygen from his lungs with a weak sound.
Before she could do any more against him, her vision was eclipsed by a smoke cloud generated from the ki ball that had just detonated at the back of her head. Whipping her head around while sending a blind punch that merely clipped Tien, she zeroed in on Yamcha, lying on his back from where he's fallen, both hands up and firing a rapid volley of yellow bullets.
In a burst of her insane speed, she covered the distance between them instantly, or so it seemed to most everyone watching. Grabbing a fistful of the front of Yamcha's gi, she hoisted him up, and then over, her head, slamming him back down on the arena's surface with sufficient force to create a thin network of cracks. She lifted him again, but only high enough to slam her foot into his gut, knocking him away like an unwanted toy. Even as he was stunned and flying against his will, he still managed to muster the presence of mind to fire a small volley back at her, all of which would have been easy to deflect or dodge, but she allowed to harmlessly impact against her.
Then a foot crashed into her shoulder from above, and she actually felt it.
Blinking, she turned her head to look up the leg at a Tien wreathed in the scarlet typhoon of power that was the Kaioken. This revelation was followed closely by the other foot crashing into the back of her head, knocking her forward. She recovered quickly and swung around, hand straightened like a knife, but Tien had ducked immediately after his attack, avoiding decapitation by a too small margin. The low kick she tried next was also dodged with a back flip, his body tucked in tight on itself to minimize how much of a target he was presenting.
He went on the offensive, exploding into motion with lighting fast punches, jabs and kicks, trying to at least keep Sel occupied long enough to come up with some sort of strategy. Obligingly, she wove her way through all the attacks she could and blocked the rest, waiting to see if she could determine at how high of a factor his kaioken was activated. She could easily crush him no matter what the level was, but she wanted to refrain from using any more power than was necessary if she could avoid it.
Believing she had it, she grabbed the ankle of the next foot her way and yanked Tien out of his stationary orbit, swinging him bodily around at arms length for a few revolutions before releasing him to sail straight upward. Jumping up after him, she pulled her fist back to knock his three-eyed block off, only to be diffused by an unexpected weight on her shoulders. A second later, a very real, white hot jolt of pain lanced its way through her head and she couldn't help but release a strangled yelp in response. Groping around behind her, the weight vanished, taking the pain with it. That was the fisrt time since her fight with Goku that she had actually suffered any damage, and the shock of it was almost enough to drown out her boiling anger.
Yamcha, who had been the surprise attacker, shook his hands to dispel the steam and pain that was coming from them. What he had done, allowing the kaioken to, basically, create a feedback loop between itself, was lethal at full-scale, but when properly contained and directed, it could be a potent weapon in his arsenal, as proven by its ability to completely bypass Sel's armor like skin and assault her nerves directly. Still hurt like crazy for him too though.
Sel turned in the air to glare at him, but she didn't pursue, well aware that Tien had recovered and was hovering on the other side of her, just waiting for her to get distracted. Apparently, it was time for her to make this match a spectacle worth being a part of.
Crossing her arms across her face, she smirked as both heroes expressed their shock and recognition, at the technique, but didn't interfere. A second later and there was another Sel sliding away from her, identical down to the smirk. The two of them turned to face one of the human fighters apiece, squaring off in the air in what was still an unmatched fight.
"Sneak up on me now, jackass!" The one facing Yamcha shook her fist, grinning despite her angered tone. He let out a sigh as he wordlessly activated his kaioken, bringing his arms up in time to absorb her lunging punch without breaking his ribs. Tien was already exchanging fast paced blows with his Sel, limbs blurring furiously as they drifted through the air.
Yamcha jerked his head to the side to avoid a narrow beam of purple energy that threatened to bisect his face, feeling the heat on his cheek. Swatting with the back of his forearm, he attempted to bat her arm away enough for him to slam his palm into her collarbone, only to find her foot arcing up to smash him in the skull. Reeling back, he took another punch to the face that rocked him to the side, but the third blow he managed to twist around, coiling his whole body with it and snapping both feet against her hasty block. With his legs fully extended, he opened his hands at his sides and fired off twin beams that slipped under her guard and left dark marks on either side of her stomach.
While that was going on, Tien and his Sel were dashing around on the arena floor, disappearing and reappearing in disorienting afterimages, colliding like cannonballs for a split second before leaping away again to repeat the whole process. Tien was pressed to keep his concentration split between his opponent and maintaining his kaioken, finding that he had to lower the magnitude if he wanted to avoid damaging himself, but needing the extra boost to at least keep sight of Sel. Trying to find a balance, he began jumping between levels at a frightening speed in between clashes, raising his power just long enough to combat her's for that instant of contact before lowering it again to maintain his energy and body's health.
He was already breathing heavily and sweat was coating his face and neck, but he had been training his endurance ever since his brief stay with King Kai, intending to be able to at least match Goku in terms of longevity with the technique, if not in power. So far, it seemed that Sel was being kept on her toes whenever he shifted in power - he still refrained from voicing the multiplier out loud to further her caution, welcoming any possible edge he could wring out of this fight.
They were at the edge of conscious decision, each movement nearly independent of thought or command. It was all he could do to decipher the android's actions and react as best he could. On the sidelines, the only two that were able to actually watch the fight in its entirety were Sixteen and Piccolo, the saiyans having yet to transform. They were all silent, knowing that it was completely futile, but still feeling the traitorous touches of hope in their hearts, poisoning them.
The two human warriors were taking their licks and dealing far too few, being beaten down faster than they could get their wind back. Yamcha was out of tricks, having always been more of a straight up kind of fighter, but Tien still had a few that he could utilize, given an opportunity to do so. Eyes darting, he changed his current heading at a sharp ninety degree angle, causing Sel to completely miss with her intended punch. In that nanosecond of pause, the three-eyed fighter brought both hands together, fingers interlocking at the tips and leaving a wide space between the palms.
"TRI-BEAM!"
He fired three at the android, pushing his limits with the double-edged technique. Sel dodged to the side to avoid the first one, but was forced to spring high into the air to evade the following ones, body twisting gracefully in a slow front flip. Just as the concussive energy missed by inches, and she readied herself for a counter attack, she caught a glimpse of her opponent and couldn't help the surprised squeak that escaped from her throat.
"DODON RAY!"
One , two, three and four beams of needle like ki lanced towards her at blinding speed, completely outstripping the Tri-Beams from a moment before. Sel twisted awkwardly and managed to dodge two of them, but the second half hit their target, scoring burns that oozed droplets of blood on her left thigh and the back of the corresponding hand.
Perturbed, she rocketed backward, keeping her eyes on Tien lest he try another trick. He had, to her abashed surprise, grown an extra pair of arms from his shoulders, doubling his firing capacity and speed without any visible negative effects save for a slight reduction in mobility. He gave them both a second to catch their breath before lunging after her, pressing the offensive as best he could, mixing both physical and energy attacks like a hurricane. Sel had to admit that he was putting up a decent fight, but she wasn't about to throw in the towel just because he's thrown out a very old trick.
Yamcha was managing not to have his head knocked off, though this wasn't from a lack of trying on Sel's part; she just wasn't trying that hard. Mostly, she was incrementally pushing the scar-faced ex-bandit to see just how far he could go before he broke, wanting to see if he could actually kill himself from his exertions before she did it for him. But to her surprise, the man Gero had acknowledged as the weakest of the Z-Fighters was pulling out hidden reserves in the face of her onslaught, rising up from the brink of collapse just in time to catch that knee meant for his ribs, or roll with the punch against his jaw so it didn't snap.
What baffled her, was that both Tien and Yamcha were making it a point to distance their fight from the other, completely flying in the face of her observation from earlier. She assumed that they trying to draw out all of her moves so the others could see before their fights, allowing them to go into their own fights with at least a little advance knowledge. It wasn't too bad of a plan, but she was hardly showing even a fraction of what she could do. Even split into two separate bodies like this, she was holding back the bulk of her strength – anything less would have ended the fight way too soon for her tastes. As it was, she felt that their time was drawing to a close, so she might as well lead them through the final motions.
Yamcha slammed his forearm into the crux of his Sel's upraised and crossed arms, not even moving it an inch. From that position, he snapped his foot up to try and blindside her, but he balked as she seemed to throw herself back and upward, going horizontal with her arms still locked around his. This quickly became a bad sign for him as he next found his own forearm knocked back in his face, her hands still crossed and covering his ears. Her fists opened and she grabbed his head, hands upside down and fingers meeting at the back of his skull. Then, in a move that destroyed his sense of direction, she spun, twisted and pirouetted in one movement that launched him backwards into the ground twenty feet below, the already damaged tiles shattering around him, revealing the rough brown stone beneath the polished white.
Seconds later, Tien was locked into a Full Nelson, his extra arms making it even more painful as they stretched at his already taut skin and muscles. Before he could try to retract them and give himself a little breathing room, the Sel he's been fighting kicked him squarely in the stomach, eliciting a breathless cry of pain. Two more blows bruised his chest and cracked the bone underneath the bleeding skin before he was flipped head over heels and slammed, upside down into the ground as the Sel restraining him performed a slightly modified suplex. It'd didn't feel like anything major had been broken, but his head was ringing far louder that the rest of the world was, and he could feel a greasy blob of nausea rise up and take up residence in his throat, a good indication that his concussion was really kicking in now.
As the triclops unconsciously recalled the extra arms back into his body and Yamcha was struggling just to sit up without shouting in pain, the two Sel's sedately walked towards each other, returning to one being with very little visual flair. Looking between the two downed fighters, she pursed her lips in thought for a second before smirking and stalking towards the exhausted and barely conscious Yamcha, a purple crackle of power playing along her fingers as she went.
When she was standing over him, she met his eye and allowed her smirk to grow even larger, as well as the ki charge until it was an orb the size of a a basket ball, radiating enough energy to exude heat that pricked at his skin. She clearly saw the fear and alarm in his face, but it didn't really interest her anymore – he'd become boring minutes ago and she was just finishing what she'd started.
In a strange bit of history repeating itself, a small ki blast impacted against the back of her head, though this one lacked a smoke cloud. Turning bodily away from the bandit, she raised an eyebrow at the sight of Tien, back on his feet and sprinting straight towards her. The way he was scrunching up his face suggested that every step was a fresh hell for him, but he didn't slow down at all.
Just as he passed into striking distance and she lashed an open palm at his head, sprang forward into a flip, angling to pass over her head.
Unexpectedly for Yamcha, it seemed as though the rest of the world...just...slowed down. It was as if someone had put him in a slo-mo scene from an action movie, but he couldn't move at all; it was only how fast he was perceiving the events that had sped up.
So it was that, with a horrified witness, Tien straightened out of his flip, seeming to take an eternity for it, and bring his hands up to fire a blast point blank into the android.
And Sel turned, looking almost completely normal paced as she did it. Her smirk had taken a feral edge to it as she lifted on hand and held it in front of Tien's face, not even giving him a chance to change his expression before-
Yamcha jerked his head away at the blinding burst of energy illuminated the are directly in front of him, the force of it flattening him into the partly demolished arena floor. When the roar died awa, and before the inky spots had started to leave his vision, he looked up at Sel and...no one. There wasn't anybody there. Rolling his head to the side, he tried to spot where Tien had been blasted to, but he didn't see a single trace, save for a large wedge of singed tiles leading away from where the three-eyed warrior had been a second before.
His brain took several, empty seconds to process what had just happened, but when it did, he found that the rage or sadness he had expected were absent, leaving him with just a void of emotion.
"He's gone," was all he could murmur, eyes staring at some point in the distance. "You killed him."
Sel finally let her arm fall back to her side, also staring into space. It was an odd thing, killing a man that some of your genetic code had come from. Almost like...killing family. Shaking her head at the concept, she glanced down at the quiet Yamcha, annoyed by the way the fight had completely left him. It wasn't worth the effort to kill him like this.
Giving a disgusted snort, she punted his prone body away from her and off the arena, where he was quickly swarmed by most of the surviving Z-Fighters as they tried to check him for serious injuries and ignore their own grief.
"Two rounds in and nobodies given me a real fight yet," she mock pouted loud eough for all of them to hear, putting her fists against her hips. "Can none of you show a little effort?"
There was a second of the sound of flight and then the soft tap of someone landing to her left, monumentally loud in the sudden silence. Sel stood still, looking with interest at the Z-Fighter she could see, most of whom were looking with shock and concern toward the next challenger. Slowly leaning back and relaxing her posture, Sel half turned her head and raised an eyebrow.
"Hmm, well this could prove to be interesting. I suppose you're going to show me what your father couldn't, and destroy me right here and now. A little ambitious, but that's not entirely a bad thing in a man, even one so young." She grinned, amused by the stony face that was staring back at her. "Fine, I'll be serious...Gohan."
DBZ-DBZ-DBZ-DBZ-DBZ-DBZ
"Ho ho! I can already see that there really is something interesting about this one!" Grand Kai exalted, leaning over the table slightly to get a better look. The other kais were silent about their opinions for the moment, but even so, it wasn't too difficult to read the surprise and grudging interest there.
North stood at the foot of the table next to Vegeta, the saiyan prince still appearing in his eerie 'silhouette'. The kai knew that the very fact that he was capable of controlling his soul to such a degree as to assume a form of his choosing was something worth ogling at, and it was an unexpected bonus to the situation in his favor, but it was hardly the deciding factor.
"Grand Kai, South Kai, East Kai and West Kai, please allow me to introduce the soul of the recently deceased Prince Vegeta of the Saiyans. He is the one I was telling you about."
"We are well aware of that fact," West grumbled, picking at the armrest of his chair in agitation. He didn't want to admit that North was right in his summation of the Prince as an extraordinary individual, but even he couldn't refute that he had never heard of a neutral soul ever attaining both full consciousness and a mastery of itself to this sort of degree in less time than a half century, if at all, and he was sure the others hadn't either. Despite his very efforts, a seed of belief began to plant itself in his head.
"Interesting," South mumbled to himself, words muffled as he rubbed his hand over his mouth, "I can actually feel a slight energy presence from him. An echo of what he must be capable of."
"If that is the case, then he must have been a real force of nature in life," East agreed as she surveyed the increasingly impatient soul.
"People, please," Grand Kai spoke up to forestall any further observations. "We have asked this young soul here for a reason, and I would like to address that before anything else. North Kai, please retake your seat."
North chewed nervously on his lip as he obeyed, but Vegeta continued to look annoyed. The dim lighting in the hall lengthened the shadows on his face, giving him an ominous appearance despite the fact that he was made up of a cloud.
"Now, Prince Vegeta, I trust that North Kai informed you of his plan?"
Vegeta nodded, minutely. 'He gave me the important details, yes.' North grimaced at the curtness he was showing to the five beings that were his immediate deities. He really should have coached the saiayn on some etiquette on their way back to the palace, but it was way too late for that now.
"Good, good. And I can believe that you are aware of your role in what he has suggested?"
Vegeta's jaw clenched, a trivial detail that only further showed the control he had achieved over himself, even if it was unconscious. 'Yes.'
Grand Kai placed one hand over the other, sitting straight and fixing Vegeta under a deeply scrutinizing gaze from behind his shades . The saiyan glared back for a few moments before uncomfortably averting his eyes, still scowling. " I wish to judge your worthiness, should we be so forthright as to actually go through with North Kai's plan. I would like to ask you a question, and please answer it as honestly as you can. Is this agreeable?"
Vegeta was stubbornly still for a second before giving another tiny nod of consent.
"Very good. Now, Prince Vegeta, if you were given the opportunity, would you return to your life in the living realm?"
This time, Vegeta's whole body tensed as he glared holes into the wall. His silence stretched on much longer than before, leaving the four lower kais to fidget, whether in annoyance or trepidation. When, at last, he did speak, his voice was barely louder than a whisper, leaving nothing to bounce back from the walls.
'No.'
South 'hmm'ed in intrigue as both West and East gawked at the wayward soul. North ran his hands up along his face, lamenting his failure to visit a bathroom before sitting back down at the table.
"And why is that?" Grand Kai inquired, unruffled. He had expected such an answer, but that wasn't what he was looking for.
Vegeta hesitated, then turned back to lock eyes with the Grand Kai. 'I can't tell you.'
North reeled in his seat, seeing his haphazard plan implode inside his mind while the other three kais all voiced their scorn for the saiyan's disrespect at differing volumes and intensities., but their leader and the departed soul were still focused on each other – with Vegeta refusing to back down, and Grand Kai observing what he could decipher from the prince's raw emotions. Calmly, the elderly god stood up, succeeding in silencing the others as they all instinctively looked to him.
"Hm," he hummed, stroking his beard. "This just might work after all."
If there actually was a sound for four sets of jaws hitting a table...
DBZ-DBZ-DBZ-DBZ-DBZ-DBZ
AU: And we have our first casualty of Sel's tournament. There will be more.
Surprisingly, I couldn't find decent information about the location of the WMAT. I know it was held in a city a few times, but it was also held on Papaya Island, with no real reason for a change or even a reliable answer on any Wiki I cared to look on. So, even if I'm totally wrong, let's just go with what I've got here, savvy?
Also, this chapter manages to have the most references to the original 'Dragon Ball' thus far. What this means, I do not know, but it probably won't be a lead in for Devilman to make a surprise entrance. Or the Invisible Man, though he would have been really helpful on Namek, come to think of it...
Oh crap, another story idea.