For Bardock, every second was its own little hell.
He sat still inside his little cell, save for his hands; bound and unfeeling, he flexed them. It didn't help his blood flow; he didn't have any, and the energy suppression cuffs didn't hurt, for he could no longer feel pain either. But the familiar motion helped him keep the time.
Every few seconds, he would flex his hands, trying to will any feeling back into his long-dead appendages. It would never work, but it helped him focus.
He couldn't think that straight anymore.
Not since she had moved on.
He needed all the help he could get.
Someone knocking on his door snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Hello, Bardy~!" A large muscular orge of orange coloring pushed open the door to his cell, "The therapist vill be seeing you again today~!" They announced with quite some enthusiasm.
Bardock didn't acknowledge the ogre, only continuing to flex his hands.
The ogre, either not noticing his lack of enthusiasm or, more than likely, simply not caring, pushed open his cell door even further, allowing a much smaller ogre of the same coloring with glasses perched upon his nose to step inside.
The door shut with a loud bang, and the bespeckled ogre took a slow step closer to him. The other ogre moved in front of the door, guarding against any breakout attempts.
"Hello, Bardock." The ogre man simpered, his voice comically nasally, "It's good to see you in good death."
Bardock didn't respond. He had learned a long time ago that reaction was a bad thing in Hell.
The therapist sniffed, loud and wet, and then leaned backward into a chair they had carried into the room with them.
"Now, I know it's a tired topic for you right now," The therapist said, "But I would like to, again, delve into your refusal to reincarnate."
Bardock didn't deign the puny ogre with a response; his hands did clench into fists, though, and he could feel the familiar sizzling burn travel across his body as the energy cuffs blocked off his energy control.
A moment of awkward silence passed.
The ogre cleared their throat and adjusted their glasses, "I see the newest Energy Suppressant cuffs are treating you well, Bardock."
A long pause ensued before the ogre awkwardly shuffled open a manila file and pulled out a sheaf of papers far too thick to have been concealed inside such a small container.
"You've been down here in our little corner of Hell for a very long time, mister Bardock, decades in fact," The ogre briefly glanced up at Bardock beneath sunken eyes before returning his gaze to the sheaf of papers, "Long enough, that you could have been reincarnated, and maybe even died again. It's possible that you may have even come back into our care!" The little ogre was smiling at his own joke, far too proud.
The bigger ogre beside them chuckled obligingly.
Bardock didn't.
"Well," The small ogre once again cleared their throat, "I would just like to ask you again today: Why? Why refuse?"
Bardock was silent, clenching and unclenching his fists. It was important not to lose track of his time, after all.
The ogre sighed, almost disappointed, "It says here on the record that your response last time was, 'Who else would tell her story,' was it not?"
It was, but Bardock didn't need to say so. The ogre knew perfectly well that it was true.
The ogre sniffled, then continued, "Bardock- Tell me," The ogre paused for a second, breathing in far too deeply to have been comfortable, "Have your reasons changed since you gave me that answer last?"
Bardock didn't respond, and the silence stretched for many hand clenches before the ogre continued once again, "Bardock, that was a yes orno question. Now, are you going to answer, or I will have to get Baz here smack you around a little 'til you do."
Bardock slowly raised his head just enough to glower at the little ogre.
The therapist squinted at him, then nodded, a drop of sweat trailing down their brow, "No then, that's good- I mean..."
Bardock dropped his head back down again.
The therapist adjusted their tie and exchanged glances with Baz, who stood beside them.
"Let's change topics; how about you tell me why 'she' means so much to you, today."
Bardock snapped his head up and glared straight into the eyes of the little manlet ogre. He felt the burning buzz rush across his body, but couldn't find it in himself to care as he flexed his metaphorical muscles against their literal restraints.
The therapist tilted back and found himself nearly falling out of his chair at the force of Bardock's glare, stuttering and stumbling up to his feet next to the larger ogre standing guard behind him.
"Okay- Right, ahem," The therapist cleared his throat and straightened his tie, "Well, Uhm, I think that that is it for today; I'd say we uh- made a lot of progress, but I'd also say it's time to go- Time for, uh, me to go that is, hehe..." The smaller ogre leaned up next to his larger counterpart and stage whispered, "Make sure he gets stronger cuffs next time, eh?"
With a nervous smile forcefully stretched across their face, the therapist turned back around and backed up to the door, then wiggled the doorknob until it swung open behind him, "I'll be going now…"
Bardock stopped him, "You're right."
The therapist's eyes flew up to Bardock's piercing ones and regarded him with surprise, "Wh- What?"
"You're right," Bardock gave an easy shrug, "You are right about that, doc."
The small ogre was stuttering, "A- about–" The small ogre paused to shakily suck in another steadying breath, "About what?"
Bardock looked meaningfully into their eyes, "It's time to go."
There was a pause, then: "Huh?"
Bardock let out a massive roar, and the air lit up with a thousand electrical pops, lightning crackling across his skin as the cuffs on his hands began to creak, then crack, then crumble. Then, finally, with one last deafening roar, the cuffs burst off his wrists, and his power billowed throughout the room. The therapist ogre screeched in agony as his eyes were seared in their skull, and Baz roared in anger as the bright light burned his eyes.
"Damn you! I'll make sure you never come back for–!"
The ogre was cut off as Bardock swept Baz's feet out from under them and in the same motion, raised their foot into the air and delivered a crushing ax kick to the downed ogre's sternum.
As a crunch echoed throughout the room, Bardock let out a sinister chuckle, "You fools may be big and energy-resistant, but you aren't very tough, are you?" Bardock reinforced the point by leaning his weight on his leg, still embedded in Baz's chest, causing the downed ogre to let out a wheezing groan.
Bardock stepped back and, with a final chuckle, he turned his gaze to the ceiling, his eyes narrowed. Nine thousand and one thoughts flew through his head, but only one stood out to him. His skin buzzed with the energy he had slowly been accumulating over decades, and he knew he couldn't contain it safely forever. Immortal body be damned; he felt like he was tearing at the seams.
He raised his hand, palm facing upwards, and pushed out as much of his overflowing energy as he could, launching a massive blast at the ceiling. The resulting explosion shook the ground beneath his feet and filled the whole area with musky smoke, filling his lungs and making them burn with a familiar feeling of victory.
Such power he had only felt once before, 'But,' He thought, grimacing, 'He didn't much like to think about how he died.'
Instinctively, his hands made their way to the blood-red bandana wrapped around his head, and he instinctively tightened the fabric. Bardock let out a final grumble, flinging himself into the bloody sky, rough wind tearing at his long scarred face, old wounds flaring in pain at the unfiltered agony-inducing atmosphere of Hell.
He made sure to whisper one last goodbye to his old hell of a prison cell before flying as far and fast as he could.
There was no going back now.
