Piccolo:

A shaking went through the platform of Dende's palace. Since Kera's disappearance, he and the children had stayed here almost exclusively. He could hardly stand it in the forest, at their hut. It was too painful to look at all the things that reminded him so much of Kera. After months of searching in vain, he had been on the verge of giving up on himself. Dende had come to him one day. Probably at Menka's request, as he suspected in retrospect, and had persuaded him to move into the palace with the children.

Piccolo had resisted at first and had only given in after much pleading and begging from his children. It took him a few days to realise that it had been the right decision. In the palace he could breathe a little more freely again and it did Menka and Reyak good to have company. In addition, Popo was cooking for them very well.

Some days Piccolo wondered how Bulma was doing. He knew he was a coward for not visiting her. She was going through the same thing he was. But, come to think of it, he didn't want her to see his vulnerability and at the same time feared that her pain would increase his. Through Reyak, who visited Trunks regularly, he knew that she didn't sit apathetically in the living room like he did, but had thrown herself headlong into some research project. Everyone had a different way of escaping.

The shaking died down and Dende came running towards him excitedly. "What happened?"

"I felt Kera's aura for a very short time. Now it's gone again." Piccolo's chest tightened painfully again. To feel that aura, to know that she was actually still alive, was indescribable. But the brief joy was instantly masked with a pain that again made him clearly aware of Kera's absence.

Just behind Dende, Menka ran. "Papa, I know where Mama is!"

"What?!" She had managed to track down Kera in that short time? "Where is she?"

"I'll show you." She grabbed Piccolo's hand. As he closed his eyes, he saw the place she must have seen.

"That's where she is?"

Menka nodded. "She was ... in pain."

"I'm flying off."

Before anyone could stop him, he was off. He spotted the island Menka had seen from a distance. It was small, easily a hundred paces wide and very rocky with little vegetation.

Piccolo flew close to the island over the surface of the sea. He carefully searched the island for the cave entrance Menka had shown him and, to his relief, recognised a dense bush near the entrance behind which he could easily hide.

He waited. If Menka had indeed seen this place and sensed that Kera was here, then so was she. He trusted his daughter. He just had to wait.

The position of the sun had changed only slightly when something finally happened at the entrance. First he heard a rustling. Then footsteps. Then he had to put his hand over his mouth to keep from crying out loud.

Kera and Vegeta had stepped outside the cave. At least these beings looked like Kera and Vegeta. He didn't feel their aura, though. He didn't feel any energy at all. And Kera and Vegeta had also changed externally. Vegeta was not wearing his usual armour, but a long black coat. Kera was wearing a floor-length, low-cut dress. Also black. Although Piccolo was pleased to have finally found Kera again, he faltered briefly and wondered if Kera would normally wear such a dress. Then he shook his head. No time for such thoughts.

He blinked several times. And then still wasn't sure. It seemed as if they were both surrounded by a constantly moving black mass. Sometimes it seemed almost opaque, then just like a faded mist.

Kera, or whoever she was, carried a small bundle in her arms. Was that a ...?

"She's beautiful, Aitor!"

Vegeta gave Kera a kiss on the forehead and stroked the bundle. "So are you, beautiful."

Piccolo's chest tightened. So Kera had indeed been pregnant. But the baby had arrived much sooner than Dende had predicted. Did these beings who had taken possession of Kera and Vegeta's bodies have any laws to abide by at all?

When Vegeta leaned down to kiss Kera, Piccolo could stand it no longer. He leapt forward from his cover and stood in front of the them.

The two turned to face him at the same time. Vegeta's eyebrows drew together in annoyance. Kera's eyebrows did too, but were replaced by shock a moment later.

"What is this shit?" growled Piccolo.

"Namekian. How nice of you to congratulate us on the birth of our daughter."

"What?"

Vegeta made a sweeping gesture at Kera and the bundle. "Our daughter." He paused. "Oh yes, you don't even know who we are." He made an implied bow. "My name is Aitor, this is Malaha, my mate. We were expelled from our bodies some years ago and found new bodies in Vegeta and Kera. We had to sleep until we were strong enough to take control. Being in space was very convenient." He smiled condescendingly.

"Where are Kera and Vegeta?"

"Locked in a corner of the body. They're probably aware of everything, but they can't interfere."

Piccolo growled. Mentally, he shimmied along the ribbon of connection to Kera. It was there. For the last few months, the connection had ended as if against a wall. But now it was there. Faintly, like a hair shining in the sun. He continued to follow it. Maybe he had a chance now.

With one eye he watched Kera - Malaha - in the real world, with the other he followed the paper-thin thread. He saw Malaha's confusion grow. Then suddenly she cried out and went down on her knees.

Aitor took over the baby. He looked almost helpless as he glanced back and forth between her and Piccolo.

Malaha grabbed her head. Her eyes went white for a moment, then black and white again. She was breathing heavily. Slowly she raised her head and looked at Piccolo.

"Piccolo, please help me!" Her voice was just a whisper. It was unmistakably Kera.

Malaha cried out again. Energy pulsed out of her. The sky darkened, lightning flashed, thunder rumbled. When she stopped, her eyes were black again.

Piccolo had raised his arm in front of his face to protect himself from errant bits and pieces. Aitor had stood next to Malaha with the baby in his arms, completely unimpressed. Either she had left him out in her rage, or he was so powerful that he could erect a protective shield around himself.

"I advise you to flee, my green one," she finally said. Her voice wavered between Kera's and Malaha's nuances.

Piccolo understood. He didn't want to flee, but he knew he had no chance alone. He knew now that Kera was still there. Somewhere locked up in her own body. He had to talk to the others.

He growled and would have liked to send some threatening words in her direction, but he didn't know which words to choose. He flew away. He fled. And he hated himself for it.

Piccolo kept looking back. No one followed him. There was also no burst of energy. He tried to ignore it, but it raised hope in him. Kera was still there. Somewhere in her body, her soul was trapped. And so was Vegeta. Otherwise, those mages surely wouldn't have let him go.

As quickly as possible he flew back to Dende. He had to tell him everything he had just seen and experienced. Maybe Dende could find a way to free Kera's and Vegeta's souls again. Maybe the Namekian even already knew a solution. This hope made him speed up even more.

Dende, Menka and Reyak listened attentively to Piccolo and said nothing for a long time when he had finished his tale. Piccolo was already getting impatient and was about to follow up when Dende finally started to speak.

"Good, we now know what we are dealing with. Kera's and Vegeta's souls are trapped in their own bodies." He made another pause that felt like an eternity to Piccolo. "I have an idea, but I need to do some research on it. Menka, will you help me with that?"

Menka nodded. "Of course."

"Piccolo, you should tell Bulma what you've found out. We may also need her or Trunks' help."

Grimly, Piccolo lowered his head. Dende was certainly right, but Piccolo shied away from talking to Bulma. He didn't know if he could talk to him.

"Are you sure we need her help?"

Dende, who was already on his way to the palace with Menka, quickly turned back around. "I don't know," he said quietly. "You should inform her in any case. She has a right to know what happened to her mate." He gave Piccolo another long look, then turned again and disappeared into the palace.

"Papa, I'm coming with you to see Trunks and Aunt Bulma." Reyak stood beside him and looked up at him.

Piccolo took one deep breath, then gave his son a quick smile. "Thank you. Let's go then."

Without exchanging a word with Reyak, they flew to Bulma's estate. Piccolo's thoughts followed no particular path. They kept drifting. He thought of Kera. Of Vegeta. He felt hope. Then deep sadness and fear. And questions. Questions upon questions flew around in his head. How was Kera? Had she been hiding in that cave with Vegeta all this time? What was it about the baby?

He was almost surprised when he arrived at Bulma's house. Reyak landed in front of him and ran straight into the house. Sure enough, he had sensed Trunks' aura and knew exactly where the boy was.

Piccolo looked around the terrace, peered through the large glass windows into the living room, but did not see Bulma. Indecisive, he took a few steps towards the garden. He didn't know the mansion well enough to look for Bulma on his own.

Then he saw someone. Bulma's mother. She recognised him immediately and waved cheerfully.

Quickly, he walked towards her and didn't dwell on niceties. "Where's Bulma?"

She looked at him questioningly, but answered quickly, as if she had grasped the urgency in his question. "In the lab. I'll show you the way."

She led him around the main house to an outbuilding and pointed to the entrance. He nodded to her gratefully and entered the lab. Bulma sat at a large desk. In front of her, several monitors bathed her in a bluish light. The lab itself was dark. He could only dimly make out some kind of equipment that was scattered all over the huge room like menacing monsters.

Piccolo cleared his throat to get Bulma's attention. He did not want to frighten her at all.

Nevertheless, she flinched and turned around with a jerk. "What do you want?" she asked gruffly, turning straight back to the monitors. Her shoulders hung limply forward, as if a weight weighing a ton was resting on them.

"I found Vegeta and Kera," he said quietly. Slowly. And waited.

"Where?" asked Bulma eventually. Just as quietly as he did. A suppressed sob vibrated along in her voice.

Piccolo told her everything he knew. From the quake that had shaken the platform with Dende's palace, to Menka sensing Kera's aura, to the point where Piccolo had found Kera and Vegeta on the island. When he mentioned the baby, Bulma seemed to slump even more.

"So he really doesn't want to know about me anymore?" Still staring at the monitor, she didn't turn to Piccolo.

"No, it's not like that. Their souls, the things that make Kera and Vegeta who they are, are trapped in their bodies. These two mages have taken control. Kera and Vegeta can't help it."

"You really believe that?" She seemed to have a hard time holding back her emotions.

Piccolo knew exactly what she was feeling. Anger and sadness had been his constant companions over the past few months. Sometimes the anger had risen up in him without notice, that it could have destroyed half the forest. Then there was the sadness again, the fear of never seeing Kera again, that he would have preferred to crouch alone in a cave for days.

On impulse, he approached Bulma and cautiously placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, startled. Then she looked up at him and relaxed a little.

"Yes, I know that Kera's and Vegeta's souls are still in their bodies. I caught a glimpse of her."

He saw tears glisten in her eyes.

"I miss him," she whispered.

He nodded. He understood her, but he did not know what to say. He missed Kera too. Not only her closeness, her warmth, her laughter, the conversations with her. He felt a hole inside him, threatening to eat him up from the inside if he wasn't careful.

Bulma sobbed out and the tears she had struggled to hold back now ran down her cheeks.

"We'll find a way to free her."

Bulma, now completely consumed by her emotions, wrapped her arms around Piccolo's middle and wept. Her shoulders shook. Piccolo had stiffened at first. He had not expected such an outburst. But then he relaxed and patted her shoulder lightly.

He could say nothing. He just didn't know any comforting words as he himself was fighting grief. He felt that no words were needed in this situation. He pulled Bulma a little closer to him and she let it happen.

Piccolo remembered the situation a few months ago when he had told Bulma what had happened. When she had collapsed. He had thought then that she was the only one who understood him and he was the only one who knew what was going on inside her. Why had they never seen each other since? They could have comforted each other.

Bulma sniffled and pulled away from him. "Sorry," she murmured.

He shook his head. "It's all right. I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"We should have seen each other more often. We ... you didn't have to go through this alone." Dejectedly, he looked to the ground.

Bulma smiled. "Maybe you're right. I thank you for telling me everything."

She hugged him again. In the bluish light of the monitor, Piccolo was glad Bulma didn't see that his eyes had taken on a moist glow. At that moment, however, the good feeling that her hug triggered in him almost outweighed it.