Parabellum
By 7th Librarian
A/N: This is just something I've had on the back burner for awhile. It will update irregularly, if it all and is simply an exercise in 'What-If' that is inspired by Dragonball Multiverse and the Youtuber Hyourninjutsu's multi-timeline shenanigans. I fully admit I have cribbed several ideas from both.
If you like what I write, be sure to alert this story for updates and read my more ongoing stories - Duel Terminal and Yuanfen!
ONE: Warriors and Soldiers
They called them timelines, but Goku Black considered them branches to be pruned. They were all so similar to one another, twisting and twinning around each other with no true variation, no uniqueness with which to distinguish themselves as worthy of survival. One person dead here, another here, someone having never been born or perhaps born too late. An enemy to ally and allies to enemies. The lines and roles changed, but the players never did and no matter how many different ways one looked upon a flawed product, it never changed that it was still flawed.
He was not a god without mercy, however, nor without respect towards the grand effort that was creation. The universe was something to be admired, savored and cared for and Black did not desire its destruction in its entirety. That would defeat the very point of godliness, that for existence to exist, there must be those craftsmen who endeavored to enrich such a magnificent spectacle of a garden.
And there must be those willing to prune the dead branches and destroy the weed of mortality that threatened to choke the flowers.
For the moment, that meant killing the Kais in each useless timeline. Without the Gods of Creation to make things and the Gods of Destruction to clean the garden, timelines withered and died away as they were starved of the very energies of creation and destruction. Oh, it would take hundreds - thousands - millions of years as stars and planets ran out of their own energies, but it would happen. And for a few blissful millenia as that end neared, these timelines would bask in the solace of utter silence beauty as the mortals wiped themselves out.
Or he did it for them. Better a few moments of terror than the eternal agony of knowing how utterly meaningless their births, lives and deaths were in the grand view of creation.
Black was not a god without mercy, after all.
He was, however, a god with a good appreciation for irony - that for all the infinite majesty of the universe with wonders and sights beyond imagining, the source for all of its problems came back to this insignificant little blue marble stuck on the edge of a galaxy.
Earth.
How many times had he looked down on these windswept plains from atop these mesas? Too many. And how many times had he listened to Earth's warriors' bandy warnings about stopping him? Too many. And how many of them had died against the might of their vaulted champion?
Not nearly enough.
Sensing mortal energies was - well, it wasn't disdainful, truly, but it was beneath him. It was rather like trying to pick out one particular ant amongst a millions-strong colony and that meant lowering yourself to eye level and trying very hard to pick out the one you wanted without accidentally allowing the rest to swarm over your sudden intrusion upon their pointless lives. Even with the dozens of times he'd done this now, Black still found the exercise frustratingly tedious.
But then, so was much of his divine mission. He had the body of a Sayian whose power exceeded the Kais and threatened even the Gods of Destruction, but sheer baseness, the sinful existence of this body clashed against his divine soul, grating against him out of sheer inept creation and denying him the fullness of the power he wanted.
Yet where a mere mortal would have given up, divine persistence always won out. Each time, it got easier, the body responding a little more, the power more easily bent to his will. Soon he would be able to access the full might of the body of Son Goku and then - then his work would begin in earnest.
Finding the so-called 'Kami' of Earth was always the first, most important step. First, it was to kill the blasphemous mortal and deprive his targets of access to Dragon Balls - the fact that the Gods allowed such wish-granting at mortal behest was one of the biggest reasons they had failed creation itself. And second, the display of his power would reverberate across the planet and they would all come. Vegeta. Piccolo. Gohan. Sometimes even a distressingly similar variant of Son Goku himself. Saving him the trouble of having to hunt them down.
Of course, he could simply eradicate the planet from right where he stood and simply move along. But Black always discarded that idea - there was a certain comforting relish in battle, of slaughtering those who had dared to trespass into the realm of the gods. His pride demanded, this body of his called for it and his thirst for justice could not be quenched unless it was delivered with his own two hands.
He found the Guardian of Earth after a few minutes of intense focus and stretching his senses beyond the limit. As always, they were on the Lookout and as always, the Lookout was miles above the Earth and hiding in a cloudbank. But this was not the energy of Dende. Oh, it was a Namekian, that he was sure of. But this Namekian was far, far more powerful than Dende ever could be - more powerful than quite a goodly number of the Piccolos Black had killed before.
Powerful enough that, for an instant, Black hesitated. Not out of fear - that was beneath him nor caution - that was beneath even fear - but of curiosity. This variation in strength and identity - had he traversed so many timelines that he'd somehow slipped out of his self-chosen target range? It was one thing to prune so many nearly identical timelines, another thing entirely to prune a unique deviation. Rumored or not, dealing with the 'Time Patrol' and their so-called Supreme Kai of Time was something Black did not have the patience for.
You do not belong here.
Black froze, fingers midway to his forehead.
I felt your evil and pride stain the Earth the moment you arrived here, you who were once Zamasu. The voice in his head was calm, deep and all-knowing. I had hoped that someone possessing divine ki had come for gentler purposes, but that was in vain, wasn't it? You mean to kill me and then the Earth. You project your intent as if you were screaming it from a mountaintop.
An uncontrollable snort of laughter escaped Black, a sneer settling across his face. Do not be so base, false god. I am not some monkey bellowing a challenge to the heavens. My mission is divine, my cause justice and my power absolute. If you are aware of my intent, then it is because it is my truth - the universe's truth. And those who cannot accept such things always fear them.
Then you must be the most fearful being of all, Goku Black, if you cannot accept the truth that you only view mortal life as invalid because you are jealous.
Rage ignited within Black and his power outside him, tendrils of it scorching the mesa while the stone underneath his feet buckled into a dizzying spiderweb of cracks. A few bits of it snapped free, only to be destroyed by his might. Though it went unnoticed, his furious gaze fixated across the horizon. You dare to speak such nonsense! Such drivel! I do not know who you are, Namekian, but of all the Guardians I have killed, you are the most foolish! Your death will be swift, but I assure you, my justice is not painless!
The deep voice sounded satisfactorily amused and that made Black's anger boil further. Threats now? I'd apologize for my rudeness, but I thought a god wouldn't have put so much value into the words of a mere 'mortal'. But then - the truth really does rub some people the wrong way, doesn't it?
Black's eyes narrowed, his power surging wildly before he got it under control. Control. He was in control. Every methodical step was by his design, his will and letting some upstart mortal with delusions of godhood get the better of him was not part of the plan.
If that's how you feel, you really aren't going to like what happens next.
And with that, the Guardian's presence in his mind - no, on the Earth - just vanished. Gone like a switch had been flipped. Black was so stunned, he could do nothing but stare at the horizon. Mortals were beneath his notice - he barely even registered the fluctuation of energy provided by the millions of them on this planet. But that Guardian's power had been enormous and you could not compress that power to the point it faded away. Did he flee? No - if he had, he'd have put the Earth in danger and that is something he would never do. So why then -
Instinct both divine and mortal warned him of the attack - neither was fast enough to let him avoid it completely. Black made the mistake of turning into it rather than leaping out of the way, catching the blast on his upraised arm. It exploded on contact and pain radiated through the limb as it crashed over him. The energy is so powerful- but I didn't sense anyone nearby-!
A follow-up blast knocked him off his feet, boots stumbling for purchase on a rapidly crumbling perch. Flight followed, zipping up and back away to survey the area. Nothing but grass and mesas and scraps of his ruined sleeve fluttering to the ground. And he couldn't sense any energies - divine or mortal. Yet someone had had the audacity to attack him.
And to keep attacking him. He moved instead of reacting this time, a dart upwards letting the energy blast sail underneath him. It was pale silver in color and it was not nearly moving as fast as he had expected to. Comparably to him, anyway. Black suspected it was about two-thirds the speed of a normal ki blast. It passed into the smoke of his ruined mesa and vanished.
Now that he had gotten a look at it, Black could feel it now. That energy wasn't powerful in normal ways; it was dense. His attacker had used the same level of energy consistently, somehow packing it all into that head-sized sphere of an attack. This meant that while the attack itself was hard to pick up, being hit by it was like being hit by a boulder headfirst. But at that speed, you couldn't use it at a distance…
All of this had taken less than a second to analyze and comprehend. Black pointed a single finger to where he sensed the attack to be and fired. His own shot detonated it, eradicating whatever was left of the mesa and damaging the rest with shockwaves, debris and bits of energy.
As he fired a few more blasts into the mesa as if it had attacked him personally, he felt it. The third attack was coming in from above - another clever trick to have gotten it in his blindspot. Black shifted aim, detonating the attack well before it could hit him - and then shifted again within the same motion, targeting a random mesa nearby.
The blasts tore into the stone of a mesa, then through it and a figure flashed away from it with a hearty laugh. They landed on another intact mesa, arms folded. "You're pretty good! Most people don't ever realize that they can learn to sense my energy by focusing on my bomb's detonation!"
Black didn't deign to descend or immediately respond, preferring to take in his new foe. He was clearly a Sayian - the spiked hair, tail and brazen confidence gaze that away. He also wasn't Goku, Vegeta or anyone related to the pair. He was about as tall as Black himself, just as muscular. More curiously, he was already a Super Saiyan. Albeit he lacked the radiating energy or sharp golden hair, his casual ponytail and spikes being more of a pale straw color.
And he was also right - Black was having a hard time sensing his energy, even with Sayian right in front of him. It was like trying to clutch a slippery eel - he'd grasp it one moment only for it to slip free in the next.
The Saiyan warrior cocked an eyebrow as the silence drug on. "Not going to say anything? No gloating about how weak I look? Or how I'm a coward for using sneak attacks?"
Black just chuckled. "Why would I ever decry such things from a mere mortal? You must use everything you can to close the gap. But…" He sneered down at the man. "Know that the gulf between you and myself is as vast and uncrossable as the distance between heaven and hell. So at least tell me your name so I can use it to warn others of their foolishness?"
"Great." The Saiyan huffed in irritation. "I always get the ego ones. Why can't Lazzy ever have jobs like this?" He uncrossed his arms, revealing that the gi he wore had a small logo emblazoned on the upper left torso. "You can call me Gette. I work for the Heavenly Saiyan Squad. Earth is under my protection."
"Heavenly Saiyan Squad-" Black repeated the name, finding it leaving a foul taste in his mouth. It grew when he studied the symbol and he spat it out literally. "That is the symbol of the Supreme Kai, Shin. So in this universe, the Saiyans are lapdogs begging for handouts."
"You say that, but it seems like every Tuesday, someone like you keeps showing up to the planets we protect, looking to pick a fight." Gette said with an eyeroll. "Anyway, are you going to keep lording yourself over me or are we actually going to fight any?"
"We will fight, Gette of the Heavenly Saiyan Squad. You may consider my interest piqued." Black said as he descended to land atop the mesa opposite Gette. A cruel, eager smile decorated his face. "You may consider yourself flattered if you wish - before I kill you."
"Uh-huh. Sure you will." Gette slid into a combat stance. "Prove you aren't just talk."
"You will wish that is all I did soon enough." Black fell into his own stance, the two warriors staring each other down.
Then Black moved, a straight lunge with his left. A fool's attack that anyone would see coming a mile away - and anyone with any sense would know was a trick. Gette parried the blow without breaking his stance with only his front arm, waiting for the follow-up right kick that Black was only too happy to deliver. Gette moved, twisting to bring his other arm into a block-
Black reeled his kick at the last moment, letting it whiff past Gette's face and turning the momentum into a whirling roundhouse that slammed into the other Sayian's skull. Gette stumbled, stance broken and Black laid into him with a barrage of chain punches that battered at the other man's crossed-arm guard and began to drive him back across the mesa step by step.
Then Gette slipped past the punches, the blows missing by centimeters as he began to weave. Black caught a return blow to the stomach, stopped himself from folding over as the air was knocked out of his lungs. That meant he could lean back to avoid the uppercutting elbow that threatened to slice his nose off his face. Gette followed up with a flurry of jabs, bobbing and weaving through Black's own blows. The jabs didn't hurt, but they were many and they were fast, driving Black back across the mesa.
He caught one on the cheek, turned with it to let him mule kick Gette. The blow missed as Gette bounced back but Black didn't straighten. Instinct and training told him what the follow-up would be - he handsprung upwards just as Gette's foot scythed through where Black had been so close Black felt it brush his hair.
Landing, he cupped one fist into the other and drove an elbow at Gette who in turn side-stepped around to get into Black's blindspot. But that, too, failed as Black whirled one-eighty degrees to meet with the elbow again. This time, Gette palmed it away. That required him to step back to cope with the force, meaning a hasty block and skip back to avoid a kick left the other Saiyan off balance.
Black lunged, hooking his arm through Gette's blocking limbs and flipping him over hip. Gette hit the mesa hard enough to crack the stonework; Black's knee-slam into Gette's chest cracked it even further. Still gripping the trapped arm, Black laid a barrage of punches into Gette's face with a dark laugh.
Stone cracked a third time, Black realizing only too late that Gette had slammed his free arm into the mesa to disrupt Black's footing and leaving him open - pain exploded in his ribcage as a finger jab slid between the bones to hit something painful and probably vital. Gette freed himself from the loosened trap and twisted his hips, rolling Black beneath him. Blows hammered across the divine Sayian's torso before he managed to get his arms up to guard.
Gette seized a wrist, pulling with surprising might. The two Saiyans strained against one another - blocking and hammering, pulling and resisting like some kind of absurd two-man juggling act. Ki flared in erratic bursts, stone cracking and buckling as superhuman bodies took superhuman blows. It was a bad position to be in, Black realized belatedly, as despite Gette's hammer blows not getting through the guard, he was still being physically pummeled into the stone and soon wouldn't be able to move in a form-fitting prison.
He broke his guard, seizing Gette's own wrist, sneered and opened his mouth. A ki blast launched, forcing Gette to throw back his head to avoid it - but they were still holding each other's wrists. Black leaned into that motion, pushing himself upright and bending Gette's spine over backwards as the continuous ki blast began to burn at his opponent's face.
Then Gette released Black's wrist, a knifing jab to the throat leaving Black gasping and his ki attack cut off - which left him open for a backhand slap that in turn let Gette grab his ear, twist and pull like he was screwing the lid off of something. Black howled, instinct kicking him and he slugged the other Saiyan away.
Both of them rolled to their feet and leapt back into it without hesitation - again, Gette was moving like a phantom, Black feeling frustration mount as his blows missed by centimeters - millimeters - his opponent refusing to let Black put him in a position where he had to block instead of dodge. Retaliatory jabs didn't hurt, but they were adding up and while one didn't hurt, ten began to sting and twenty ached.
Snarling, Black flew back mere inches above the ground and then shot backwards with another obvious left straight cocked back. At his speed, Gette would be forced to dodge entirely, letting Black whirl on a time and blast him in the back or take the blow - which would throw him off balance and let Black follow-up with a right straight ki blast to the stomach.
Neither happened.
Gette slid into Goku Black's reach, outstretched left punch barely missing his face. Gette seized that wrist in both hands, bending over and stepping back so that Black's chest met the other Sayian's torso. The moment they did, Gette's foot hooked behind Black's ankle, hand reaching to snare Black's hair of all things -
And then the sky and the earth switched places a few times before Black slammed into the ground face-first hard enough the shattering stone got into his mouth. He rolled, barely avoiding the follow-up stomp that would have landed square on the back of his head. Another roll, back onto his feet and in guard - this mortal was proving tricky to hit -
Gette's punches came. Black saw them coming, but his body moved one way and his mind another as the blows seemed to come from all directions. Left, right up, down, straight on - always where Black's guard and attention wasn't.
Another flight back, then as he saw Gette get into a defensive stance - Instant Transmission right behind the other warrior. He hurtled towards his opponent's back-
Only to be met halfway with Gette's own charge and straight-arm punch to the gut. Black felt bile and spit fly from his mouth at the counter, combined momentum and force leaving him breathless.
Just not painless. Gette was in his face before Black's feet could even find the ground, pain exploding in Black's skull as Gette caught in an open palm and squeezed with incredible force. Bombs detonated in the divine Saiyan's stomach as short punch after short punch rammed home rapidly - so fast that Black would have sworn to himself that Gette had sprouted a third hand.
Pain, however, was only an obstacle to surmount, not a judgment to succumb to. No pain could compare to living in a fetid universe polluted by mortals. Black seized Gette's grabbing arm in both hands and tensed his stomach so the short punches no longer rattled his bones and swung. His foot slammed into Gette's head and he was released and - "I have had ENOUGH!"
A storm of ki blazed around Black as he rained divine judgment in the form of punches onto Gette. Gette turtled against his blows, elbows and knees bent inwards to form an awkward, yet effective guard against his storm of strikes. I feel like I'm punching stone instead of flesh - is he using his muscles as armor!?
Gette seemed to flicker, one of Black's blow hitting only air - and then Gette was around him, dancing in and out of punches like they were in slow motion. Is this the after-image technique? No - it's not the one I know - there are too many copies - and his motions are too complex -!
Gette's fist struck like a hammer to the side of Black's face, then snared the front of his gi. Blue and green inverted as Black was flipped into the ground, another round of bile ejecting from his mouth as Gette's fist drove hard into his gut. "Damn - mortal -!"
The next fist hit Black's face - he could see it coming and saw it happen. Gette was striking with just the second row of knuckles; the moment they hit, his fist folded up - and the world exploded. No, not the world. Him. his face, He felt his nose splinter, teeth shatter and bone crack. The world was sheets of white pain, his pained scream a distant echo of white noise as gravity seemed to release its hold on him so he could float.
Except the brutal cushion of rock against his back told Black he was wrong; Gette's strange punch had exploded the mesa underneath them. Boulders hit his legs, but the agony of his face was so great they felt like pebbles.
He yanked his feet free, if only so he could get to all fours to vomit hard. It was all blood, bits of his teeth floating in the puddles as it waterfall from his nose. His eyes burned and he knew that they were becoming black and bruised. Even breathing was torture, cold, clean air conjuring a symphony of agony over exposed roots of teeth and a bitten tongue. "H-how- how- how - HOW!?"
"I knew you were one of those guys; all hyped up on his own power." Gette's voice sounded annoyingly casual. "Just because you can throw a punch and blow up a planet, you think that your biggest challenge should be how you kill your next opponent."
"Mortal - ningen - " The word wasn't from Black, it was from Goku and felt so good to spit it out alongside more blood. He lifted his head to glare at the Saiyan staring at him from a few yards away. "I posses the body of Goku, the greatest warrior-"
"I have no idea what a 'Goku' is," Gette said flatly. "But the fact you had to steal a Saiyan body just proves my point. You're all power and no strength."
"Don't - don't get arrogant!" Black stumbled to his feet, wiping his bleeding face futilely with his remaining good sleeve. Like wiping up a rainstorm with a kleenex. "Your strange techniques -"
"They're just martial arts. I learned them here on Earth." Gette said, eyes lit with interest as Black's body stiffened and his eyes went wide. "I use the Niko-Style primarily, but the blow that just broke your face is the Futae-No-Kiwami. Short version is that your face just took the full force of my strength without any resistance. To be honest, I'm surprised your head didn't explode like a melon…"
"Mortal techniques - martial arts- from Earth?" Black forgot his pain, his bleeding mouth. Both were forgotten at the sheer impossibility of what he was feeling. He, a god possessing the most powerful body, was losing to mortal techniques? Created by beings who should be worshiping the ground he walked on?
"You know how to fight, I'll give you that. But your mind and body aren't in sync at all. You're just looking for a high off on how strong you are. You're not a warrior." Gette said dismissively. "You're just a junkie, looking for his fix." He tilted his head as Black began to tremble, ki flaring around his body. "If you want to fight so bad, I know this bald guy you can scrap with…"
Black just screamed in rage, in furious pain and at the mere idea that he was being beaten by a Saiyan using mortal techniques. It was a scream that ripped out from his very soul and as it tore its way free, it snapped off the chains of something deep within his being.
Strength ate away the pain inside him as power attacked the air around him. It cracked and snapped and hissed, snarling blackness transforming into brilliant gold power. A laugh escaped his mouth alongside blood, but the liquid evaporated with a dangerous hiss; his mortal frailty being destroyed by his divine might.
"At last!" He moved like a rocket, fast enough that Gette's guard wasn't up in time but not fast enough he couldn't enjoy the surprise on the other Saiyan's face.
Gette went crashing through mesas and cliffs like they were paper mache - and Black kept right up with him. A punishing punch downwards caused blood to spurt out of Gette's lips, the ground to explode as his enemy cratered and a triumphant sneer to settle on his face; even with so badly mangled, his divinity was beyond question. "Behold the might of the mightiest warrior in existence who has transcended his limits!"
He seized Gette and hurled him upwards - then Instant Transmission right up to him so an upwards knee and two slamming down arms could bend the Saiyan's spine in the wrong direction. "I shall thank you for helping me reach this form, stepping stone though it may be!"
The Dragon Throw - a laughably easy snare of Gette's ankle and then a spin that reached tornado levels before the release. It was oh-so-satisfying to see the mortal-trained monkey crash into the ground so violently he was lost to the debris and a dust cloud. Like an ant drowning in a flood.
"Perish at the hands of the first divine Super Sayian, Gette! This technique shall engrave your tombstone!" Black cupped his hands in a new, yet very familiar posture. "Kameha - meha - meha -"
The Kamehameha exploded in his hands before he could react, a second energy blast crashing over his head. It burned, but through the discharged energy and wild smoke, he could see Gette's smirking face.
A fist slammed into his gut, Black finding out that being a Super Sayian did nothing for his pain tolerance as the blow reverberated through his body. He could feel it, flesh and muscle and viscera and even organs rippling like a pebble tossed into a pond. The - Futae-No-Kiwami- !
It was his turn to crater the ground, pain making his body so heavy, every motion feeling like it took a mountain's worth of energy to do. The buoyant, joyous exhaustion he'd felt a moment ago at breaking his limits gave way to leaden limbs and breathing was only wet sucking noise and spitting blood.
"Damn. That didn't kill you. Side-effect of flying, really. Since you've got nothing to push back against when you throw strikes, their effectiveness is halved. Good footing is important." Gette said as he landed. He looked battered and bruised, but almost comically so; it was clear none of the injuries he had sustained really did anything to him. "Also, did you know powering up an attack like that means I get a really, really clear signal for Instant Transmission?"
"I am…a Super Sayian…" Black managed, the words lacking their usual divine certainly as he glared up at Gette.
"Yeah, so I am. Except unlike you, I didn't take a beating beforehand and I didn't waste precious energy actually transforming." Gette explained. He lifted a hand, silvery energy gathering in his palm. "And if I can block your blast with mine, it stands to reason I can interrupt it while it's charging."
"You…are..impossible…" Black ground out weakly, driving one hand into the ground to lift his torso up. The golden energy flared and then winked out, leaving the sweat-soaked mass of his hair to fall around his face like a funeral shroud. "No…"
"Yes. I don't know who you really are and I don't care. You have enough power to be dangerous and enough ego to not know how to wield it." Gette leveled his charging attack at Black's face. "You only get to make that mistake once in my world."
Black curled his fingers into useless fists, unable to even find the energy to bark definitely at this mortal whelp, and felt metal dig into his palm. Distasteful as it was, living was better than death.
But revenge, that was even better than living.
He would be back.
The Time Ring flared and reality dissolved away into the etherealness.
The timestream was a stream of soundless light and energy, a tunnel one made by simply moving through it. As much as he might wish, Black could not go back in time to assist his past self in fighting Gette. The Time Rings only worked if you were moving forwards.
Or sliding between timelines. He may not be able to go back into the best in this timeline, but this was clearly a branch of the main timeline and if he slid through the various branches, he might be able to find a 'present' which was the source of the alternation. Let Gette talk about his mortal martial arts when he didn't even exist.
Black drug his fingers against the 'wall' of the tunnel, grimacing at how painful the act was. What should have been a simple exertion was now an extreme effort - he had to heal, but it could wait until he had avenged himself.
Time parted like a curtain and he dug through it like someone tearing through a chest of drawers for one particular article of clothing. There - there - there! That was the divergent point!
It was Planet Vegeta, those barbarous Saiyans battling a flotilla of ships and aliens in the sky above their world. He recognized the one in the chair, sneering at a yelling Saiyan with red headband. That was…Freiza, yes. And this was the destruction of Planet Vegeta, in which Goku would be launched towards Earth and thus begin the path to blaspheming the gods themselves.
Except - that didn't seem to be happening. THere were glowing lights floating amongst the Saiyans and so many of them were changing. Growing larger, sprouting fur and becoming large, disgusting apes the size of buildings.
Freiza laughed mockingly, charging up his own attack with a single finger…yet, suddenly, both he and Black realized the same thing. As fast as Frieza was charging his attack, the transformed Saiyans were charging up their breath weapons faster. And there was only one Freiza and hundreds of the Saiyans.
Frieza's attack hurtled towards the planet like a desperate mountain of fiery energy - that was promptly reduced to rubble and wisps as the combined might of the breath weapons punched through it and evaporated Frieza, his chair and his ship.
So that was it - the Sayians in this timeline never were reduced to the mere handful they should have been. Indignation blunted Black's pain as he ground his teeth. If just Goku and his halfbreeds could threaten the gods by themselves, then a whole species of them was something Black could not ignore.
Then he saw something that made his blood surge and anger smother the agony he was in for a moment. There, talking to the red-bandanna Saiyan, was Shin. Clearly curious about who had destroyed the being next tier down below the gods on the power scale. This was beyond disgusting and was simply wrong- a god, enlisting these barbaric mortals -!
"Zamasu!"
Black whirled, eyes widening. Hurtling towards him in the timestream was Trunks. But not the Trunks he wanted to become his unwilling sparring partner, but one in a strange uniform and blazing with red, divine energy.
He dove through the wall of the time stream, felt the sword slash across his back and drank in the pain, using it to propel himself into the timeline Gette was in. But not on Earth, no. He needed time - time to heal, time to train his new power and time to find help.
And what better help than from himself?
TTTTTT
A/N: For anyone who cares, Gette's Niko-Style comes from the manga Kenga Ashura. Despite a lot of Dragonball characters claiming to be trained martial artists, their moves often boil down to throwing punches and kicks at apparent random and then ki blasts. Granted, that's the POINT, since as a mana/anime, Dragonball needs to be visually interesting and fast-paced. But I've always wondered what would happen if someone with such absurd strength focused on the technical side of their combat rather than brute strength.
Fun note, this thought process was inspired by the Dragonball Super Manga when Master Roshi chides Goku for focusing too much power as a martial artist.
The Futae-no-Kiwami is a move from Rurouni Kenshin and is a two-stage punch that uses some shaky logic to justify transferring the full force of someone's blow into an object without resistance.
As this story progresses, we'll see familiar faces - a lot of them being characters who got shafted a bit in relevance in Dragonball like the Androids, Red Ribbon, Tien, Yamcha, Shin, etc, etc.
Leave a review and I hope you enjoyed!