Some trigger warnings for this chapter; references to rape and infanticide, and there is an arena scene that is pretty gory.

Thank you for reading.

AnonymousDBZFan, thank you so very, very much. Your words give me such a boost. Your review alone gave me that second wind I needed. I wish I can use heart emojis here! I've been doing better since then. :) It's all ups and downs, and I know we're all on the rollercoaster. I hope you're doing well yourself.

You put SUCH a smile on my face when you mentioned Touketsu Vegeta's snark! XD I am SO glad you're enjoying it, because I had so much fun writing it! :D I'm loving exploring this younger, more juvenile Vegeta, when his arrogant shit-talking was at its peak, lol. Oh, but hold onto your butts - this Vegeta still has a little homicidal psychopath in him. ;D

Gosh darn it, I'm sitting here thinking how I can properly thank you for your supportive feedback. It is the best thing to hear that I'm coming up with these wacky circumstances that can still fit into the unique universe of Dragon Ball. It means so much. AnonymousDBZFan, thank you for reading. Thank you for reviewing. Thank you for your support. I wish you the very best!

The Executioner

The following night found Touketsu in the Imperial Box again, watching the fighters file out from the multicolored flames. Practically all of the Inimicus he defeated the previous night did not return. In their stead were new contenders, or rather, Inimicus that had been here since before his arrival but had not re-emerged until tonight. Now here were some that might offer a challenge, if they had been doing some training in the so-called Fire Realm. Everyone waited expectantly when the last fighter filed out. There was a lull, then the murmuring started.

No Zeygorn. A dawning look of surprise followed by smug amusement crept across Touketsu's face as the murmurings increased in intensity. A large, magical projection of the Imperial Box's occupants materialized in the sky above the arena, and Queen Marenna stood from her throne.

"Good people of Nav," her amplified voice announced as the susurration of the crowd stilled. "It seems that Royal Executioner Zeygorn has declined to return for this evening's tournament."

"Ha ha! So he's fired then!" Touketsu laughed, standing and turning to Marenna. "Ironic."

"Now, Mr. Touketsu. Lord Zeygorn is forever Nav's executioner. As such, he can return any time before or after the tournaments. Until he does, however, you have won the privilege of acting in his stead."

Touketsu's smile dropped from his face as the crowd reacted to the announcement. Oh she would like that, wouldn't she? Keeping him out of the arena, entering only to drop the last fool standing? Touketsu was a master tactician, and that skill extended into the realm of manipulation. He had already garnered many fans during his stay here. He could pull the diplomacy act in order to get what he wanted.

"I don't think so, my queen. According to you, the title of executioner is non-transferrable. I'm no substitute, woman," he said, jabbing a thumb at himself. "As clear winner against Nav's executioner, I believe I've won the right to declare my prize, don't you?" He didn't wait for an answer as he quickly appealed to the crowd. "What do you people think?" He shouted as he turned, arms spread outward. "How about some input for this atypical situation?"

The people roared enthusiastically in response. This very living mortal had been shaking things up in the most entertaining ways since his arrival. What did he wish to do?

Touketsu crossed his arms and gave Marenna a smug smirk, challenge in his eyes. Expressionless, she held his gaze as she brought her hands up to silence the crowd. The furor of the crowd quickly died down, save for the occasional opinionated shout. When all was quiet, Marenna spoke. "Tell us, Mr. Touketsu. How would you like to handle this matter?"

"I'll offer a compromise: I'll be your executioner…for all." The crowd cheered in joyous agreement as Touketsu went on, Marenna's jaw tightening imperceptibly as he paced back and forth in front of her while arrogantly voicing his conditions. "From the beginning of the 4th quarter to the end, I face each and every Inimicus that enters the arena. They will not fight each other - only me." He stopped and pointed out to the Fire of Life. "And I will put them all in their place." The cheers erupted into a fever pitch.

Marenna held her hands up, instantly silencing the crowd. "That is very unorthodox, Mr. Touketsu."

"And these are unique circumstances, milady! It's only temporary, isn't it? As ruler of Nav, you serve its people, right? Let's see what they think. What say you people?" He shouted as he again turned to the stands. "Would you like to change things up for a little bit?" Touketsu received a deafening cheer in the affirmative. He grinned over his shoulder at Marenna, one eyebrow quirking up mischievously. "I believe the good people of Nav have spoken, my queen."

Marenna carefully schooled the smile that threatened to pull at the corner of her mouth. He was a crafty one. She closed her eyes and bowed her head in acquiescence. "Very well, Mr. Touketsu."

Touketsu's grin broadened. He had just scored his first win for the night.

The 4th quarter commenced. Touketsu faced off against the first Inimicus of the night, a behemoth that looked something between a hippo and a crocodile with a wild lion's mane of hair. Touketsu smirked to himself and casually crossed his arms. He'd start with a little showmanship.

The gong sounded and the warrior rushed him, landing a solid right hook to his face. Touketsu's head snapped to the side, his stance wobbling a little as his arms uncrossed. The crowd erupted in shouts and hollers of surprise and anger as the burly fighter stood grinning, his fist firmly pressed against Touketsu's jaw. His toothy smile dropped from his face when Touketsu reached up and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling the fist down from his face. Touketsu's other hand came up, the back of his knuckles wiping away the trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth, and he smirked.

"That one was free." Touketsu powered up his true ki and tore into his opponent like an over-eager attack dog.

Ironically he found himself already missing Zeygorn; to his disappointment he discovered that this newer set of warriors wasn't that much stronger than the previous ones. They must have been exceptionally weak prior to their training. He successfully channeled his true ki for the occasional projectile attack, but he rarely resorted to it. Using his bare hands as he did before was far more cathartic.

He entertained himself by deliberately letting more of their attacks connect. He had forgotten how fun it was to give his opponents false hope, seeing their faces go from cocky to dismayed. Additionally, enduring blunt force trauma and feeling the sting of lacerated flesh awakened his battle lust as much as landing a punch did. The adrenaline rush was a decent substitute for the high he'd otherwise experience fighting more challenging contenders. Stoking the fires that would incinerate them, the Inimicus quickly brought out Touketsu's berserker side in full force. The shadow never overtook him, however; there was no rage, only a perverse delight.

The final contender for the night was a stout, towering warrior with skin like the bark of a tree and his right hand a blade. He flared his ki, his red aura surrounding him, and he readied himself. Touketsu outright laughed; the guy wasn't much stronger than Recoome, and he had long since outclassed that oaf in strength.

The fighter rushed Touketsu, and the demon Saiyan vaulted over him before nailing him in the back with a ki blast. The warrior was sent sprawling, and Touketsu flew at him with his fist drawn back, cackling with maniacal laughter.

The warrior twisted around and slashed with his sharp, ki-laced blade. It bit into the belly of Touketsu's armor, and he grunted in some surprise as he was thrown off his trajectory. He smoothly recovered, spinning through the air to land gracefully on his feet.

"Unlike the others you can take me seriously!" The warrior called out angrily. He had watched the horned demon carefully, noting the way he had been toying with his opponents and feigning weakness. He was doing it now, trying to humiliate him!

Touketsu straightened and flashed a cocky smirk. "I just wanted to boost your confidence!"

With a roar the other warrior quickly re-engaged. They struck and parried, dodged and feinted. The warrior let out a mouth blast that Touketsu dodged, leaping up into the air.

Eh. Think I'll wrap this up and get some dinner. "Be grateful, for I've decided to give you an honorable send-off!" he shouted, pulling his hands back as the crowd cheered. "GALLIC GUN!"

Eyes wide, the warrior could do nothing but put his defenses up and weather the attack. The hot, purple-white light of the attack filled the arena. Enclosed within the protective barrier of Marenna's magic, there was a deafening explosion and a blinding flash of light. The smoke began to clear, and Touketsu's brows drew together. The warrior had taken severe damage, trembling and swaying on his feet.

…He was still on his feet.

After THAT?! With a repressed snarl Touketsu shot down and landed a flying kick that sent his injured adversary into the fire, finally killing him and ending the match. The crowd cheered but he didn't hear it.

That blast can destroy planets. He was nothing, barely stronger than Recoome. How the hell was he still standing after that? He must have been stronger than he had thought if that happened. He hoped the smoke hadn't cleared before he had to go in with that follow-up attack. It was a little embarrassing. If the crowd had witnessed, they didn't seem to care. They cheered and chanted his name, overjoyed with yet another win for their new champion.

Marenna announced the official end of the tournament, and with a shrug he turned to leave as the deceased reemerged from the fire. He'd again head straight to the banquet hall. He suffered nothing more than flesh wounds after fighting those unworthies, and the only reason he received any injuries was because he let them. He didn't need some healing water that could taunt him about his past. This was his life now…and it was a damn fine one.

Touketsu swaggered into the dining hall, again wearing the blood of his contenders like warpaint. Marenna was in her seat of honor where she presided over the gathering every night, tall and proud. They locked eyes, and he inwardly gloated at her momentary frown as she scanned his armor. It quickly turned up into a small smile, and she beckoned to him.

"Again?" She asked as he walked up to her and leapt up onto the tall dais. Her tone was a little exasperated, but the twinkle in her eyes suggested the opposite of disapproval. "You are filthy. This is an unbecoming look for Nav's new Tournament Champion."

His teasing smirk broadened, and he casually braced an arm against the side of her throne as he leaned towards her. "Oh I think you like how I look, 'my queen'," he chuckled. "Your three headed lackey is under the impression that you are an impartial ruler, but you love to see Inimicus blood spilled in the most painful ways possible, just like the commoners in the stands. Am I right?" She raised her brow imperiously at that, and he chuckled in challenge. It was a whole other level of fun to insult a god.

She held her nose up in the air. "I am impartial. That is my responsibility as a Goddess of Death and ruler of this purgatory."

"Hm," he smiled. "Did you like my bit of improvisation in the arena?"

"And what was that?" She asked, her voice playfully aloof.

"Oh, please. My new rules, woman."

"Well, the people of Nav certainly approved," she replied airily. "And it is the peoples' opinion that I consider very seriously." A coy smile escaped from her midnight blue lips, and she looked over to him. "They like you."

"Heh. Well good on them for recognizing greatness when they see it." Marenna closed her eyes as her smile grew over his winsome arrogance while he casually grabbed the goblet of wine set before her. "Hmph - and you wanted to keep me out of the arena," he quipped into the cup before taking a swig.

Her playful demeanor tempered a little. "Well, so long as you are aware of the dangers of the dark ki. I'm pleased to see that you have been using your true ki in its stead."

He frowned a little and looked away. "Yes, it came back to me quickly enough." It was a downgrade. Sure, he didn't need the outrageous power of the dark ki against anyone but Zeygorn in the arena, but it felt a farce to not go as far as he could. His mind drifted back to his Gallic Gun attack. Was it…weaker than it had been in the past? Wine still in hand, he grabbed a hunk of venison and tucked in.

"I'm glad to hear that you have been practicing. Zeygorn will return, and the longer he spends in the Fire Realm, the more formidable he will become."

"I'll just drop his ass again with the blade," he replied, mouth full as he focused on his food.

"It may not be enough next time." Pensive, she continued watching the unconcerned demon Saiyan eat. "Touketsu, do you recall how I told you that Zeygorn's role as executioner cannot be altered without good reason?" He looked at her, eyebrow raised as his chewing slowed. "Perhaps we have one."

Swallowing, he tossed the partially stripped bone aside. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice low.

Marenna stood. "You're not Inimicus, the people support you, and most importantly, you're a living mortal." He stared at her, daring her to continue. "As you said tonight, these are unique circumstances. Everyone will understand if I decree for you an exemption from facing Zeygorn-"

"Fuck. THAT!"

"Touketsu, you could be killed," Marenna implored. "People will understand. You cannot come back like the others can."

"Absolutely not! I won't be seen a coward, Marenna!"

"Perhaps I can make an amendment to his role? Change it for you so that it's not a fight to the death."

"You think I can't win?!" He snarled. "I will not be accommodated as though I was handicapped. I will win every time and I will NOT have him hold back. End of story."

Marenna took a breath, reminded why she didn't attempt to argue a Saiyan out of fighting that first night. "Well then. You must prepare for his return and spend this time cultivating the strength of your true energy."

He snorted. "You're suggesting I attempt to win against him with my 'true' ki? After he's spent gods know how long training in that place? A strategically poor investment of my time, woman. Thanks for the advice, but I'll be ignoring it. The dark ki has twice proven its superiority."

"My dear Touketsu, this is serious. If you are to pursue your passions you must also exercise responsibility for your power. Achieving balance between your energies is tantamount to that, and you will need to train properly in order to survive against the likes of Zeygorn." She sighed. "Would that you had not made enemies with him."

His brows drew together, and he smiled incredulously. "He's a fucking executioner," he said emphatically, laughing at the absurdity. "I don't think it would matter whether we were buddies or not."

"He resents you deeply. I could feel it in his aura. You've continued to antagonize him, haven't you?" He only smirked in response. "You should not have insulted him as you did. If he defeats you he will see to it that you suffer beforehand."

"Ba HA! Why do you care?" His mocking smile waned at her tight expression. Oh, fuck. Fuck her. Pity. Gods how he resented her, spying on him in that place when his defenses were down. Now she was pitying him over anticipated suffering. He quickly downed the rest of his wine. "I can take care of myself," he said stonily. Carelessly slamming the goblet down on the copper table, he turned away as it toppled over with a clatter.

She grabbed hold of his arm. "Well then please consider visiting the bathhouse, Touketsu. You could stand to have those wounds dealt with."

"Oh give me a break!" he said, wrenching his arm from her grasp. "My body has mended far worse than a few bruises. Nevermind my welfare. You just focus on your oh-so-important duties as queen," he sneered before turning and leaping off the dais.

With a sigh, Mareena folded her hands beneath the wide sleeves of her kimono and took her seat with grace and dignity. He had free will, after all, and he was not wrong: She needed to step back and focus on her duties.

Touketsu stalked through the banquet hall, keen to mollify his seething indignation with food and lots of it. Fuck her and her pity and concern and insulting, mothering ways. He didn't need to resort to those haunted waters to cure mere scratches, and he sure as shit didn't need it to clean up. He would do so in the private bathroom of his quarters from now on.

The hot water hit his body. He had to admit, it felt pretty goddamn good to get a shower in. He had been budgeting his water supply while searching for his rival, so intent on finding him and forcing him to divulge the secrets to his ascension. He truly was losing it; as if he could ever find Kakarot in the infinity of space. While that had turned out to be a futile venture, slaughtering the scattered remnants of the PTO offered some sort of payoff for his time. Gods. He should be out there right now, taking Frieza's place as emperor of the universe. He couldn't though, not while knowing there was a Saiyan out there with strength even greater than that of his former master…

"Hey you! I left you some clean clothes!"

He scowled. Irritating woman, interrupting his every thought! He tried tuning her out.

"Hell-OO! You alive in there?"

"I heard you!" He snapped over the spray. "You can leave now!"

"Yes, your majesty! Your wish is my command! Ughh!"

He groused under the shower head as he listened to her storm off. "The female species…an enigma!" He thought. Well, THIS particular female was an enigma. He shook his head. Did she already forget how he had terrorized her and her little entourage on Namek? Nearly destroyed her planet? Had her friends killed? How could this little human woman have conquered her fears of him so quickly? Shit, ever since they'd all been wished back to this planet she'd been outright disrespectful! He had never met a female like this. So soft and delicate in body yet so…Saiyan in character. People had always accommodated him out of self preservation. She was most definitely not afraid of him, yet she was freely offering him her amenities. Why? She had to have an agenda. What was her name again?

Touketsu's eyes slowly opened to the darkened room. "Bulma," he whispered. It was still night, the ever present fire burning in the hearth. He watched the light of its aqua flames play over the raised reliefs of weeping women and destroyed families. He saw Bulma's cerulean eyes watering with betrayal and snapping with the fires of rage. He pulled away, the taste of her blood on his lips, and he felt his own eyes begin to burn, mirroring hers, feeling her pain. Her eyes changed. Alive yet dead, they accused him for the path he took. He felt his dead son cradled in his arms, his lavender hair brushing up against the crook of his elbow and his body rapidly chilling. Trunks's blue eyes were half lidded, their light completely gone. Touketsu felt his throat begin to close up.

He ached. Gods, how his heart ached. Hell wasn't a place. Hell resided within the mind. He threw an arm over his eyes and inwardly prayed for sleep to come back and reclaim him.

At dawn Touketsu none so politely issued an order to one of the attendants: He would have his own set of servants, and he would have room service from then on. Last night he had resolved to keep his distance from Marenna. She had been fussing over him like he was an injured baby bird, and he'd had enough. His pride wouldn't allow him to sit anywhere but the Imperial Box while awaiting the 4th quarter, however. He'd simply ignore her. She struck him as perceptive enough to take a fucking hint.

Shortly after breakfast he left his room. He was making his way through the halls to leave the palace and train when he was distracted by the sound of many voices and shuffling feet. Curious, he turned in the direction of the sound and soon found himself walking down the hallway that intersected with the palace vestibule. He stopped and watched the people filing through the open doors of the palace entrance.

It was a procession of the dead, all women and children. The new Familia were being gently escorted to the throne room by Queen Marenna's attendants. One of the many weeping women was clutching a baby to her chest as if holding onto a life preserver, and she just happened to look up and lock eyes with him. She was thin and diminutive and had plated black hair, her bronze, pebbly skin becoming larger scales that covered her smooth brows. Most likely a commoner in life, she was dressed in a simple linen dress that resembled a toga, its sweeping folds crisscrossed over her body. Her golden, reptilian eyes awash with tears, she averted them just as quickly as she looked at him.

The procession went on, leaving Touketsu feeling the invisible weight of his dead son in his arms once more.

The nights went by. Touketsu continued to keep his place in the Imperial Box as he awaited his chance to fight. Either busying himself with food or watching the tournament, he didn't speak to Marenna, nor she to him. Her daughters had initially prodded him as to 'what his problem was', and they were greatly offended when they were ignored. Thankfully, one icy reproach from their mother put an end to their badgering, and they left him alone onward.

Several new fighters had emerged from the fire to offer Touketsu new challenges and blessed distractions. Still, Zeygorn had not returned. No longer trusting the strength of his true ki, he had since resorted to the dark ki to put away his tougher contenders. He would never risk being seen as weak; he was going to flaunt this power, and he could do so as long as he used it sparingly.

As with the last several nights, Touketsu hadn't suffered a single wound worth his attention and thus went straight to Susmir. He proudly wore his gore spattered armor, basking in the resentful looks of his defeated adversaries as he ate his fill and avoided the queen.

One night at Susmir he happened to turn in his seat, and his eyes alighted on the golden eyed woman and her infant. He had noticed her a few times after the Melee, the 2nd quarter of the tournament wherein Inimicus with no ki abilities fought each other. She never seemed to enjoy herself the way other Familia did. Dutifully clutching her infant close to her breast, she'd drag the same vanquished warrior to the bonfire before rolling the corpse in with a vengeful shove of her foot. Freshly traumatized, she had a hollowness to her that he now knew too well.

She was talking and forcing a smile as she politely exchanged with the other women, her infant cradled against her hip. She parted ways with the group, her false smile fading from her face. She looked up and they caught each other's eyes for a moment. She quickly averted her dull gaze and walked on.

"You didn't seem to be enjoying the festivities out there," he called out, inwardly surprised when the words spilled from his mouth.

She faltered, some surprise on her own face as she looked back to him. "I beg your pardon?"

"After the Melee. You didn't look like you were having a whole lot of fun," he reiterated. "You never do, in fact."

She shifted on her feet. She didn't expect to be engaging in a conversation with this man. She had seen him upon her entry to the palace, but not until later that night did she learn of his position as both a contender and an executioner. Spattered in gore and looking completely in his element, he was unnerving to her. Partly because his barbarism in the arena was terrifying to behold…and partly because his bloodlust now spoke to her.

"I haven't been particularly enjoying myself, no. I want to see him suffer more, but this is the most I can get right now."

"What, assisting him with his cremation?"

She frowned a little, "Mr. Touketsu, was it? If you'll excuse me, I really must be going." She turned to leave.

"Biding your time until the kid's old enough?"

She stopped, hesitating, and turned to him. "Yes."

"Why don't you challenge him yourself?"

She looked at him incredulously before scoffing at the notion. "I'm no warrior. He would kill me, and I don't think my spirit could tolerate being his victim yet again. After what he did to us it helps to watch his body burn."

"Doesn't look like it helps that much."

She bristled defensively. "It's better than nothing, Mr. Touketsu," she answered acidly. She bit her lip, reigning in her constantly simmering hurt. "I'm sorry. This is all still very new and…painful. I'm Remmnya. This is my son, Amnon."

He grunted, his eyes dropping down to the wide-eyed infant clutching her robes tight within his tiny fists. He got up from his seat and walked over to her, his arms crossing over his armored chest. "What did the weakling do? Rape you?" He bluntly asked. He saw her stiffen, looking like she wanted to bolt at any moment. "He killed you and your boy there, obviously," he said nodding to the infant. Her eyes quickly grew hollow again and she looked away, but not before Bulma's face flashed through his mind. She's not even dead and she's haunting me. He unfolded his arms and took a step closer to her. "What did he do?" He asked more gently.

She looked back up to him at his change in tone. Her mouth opened and closed as she shifted the infant in her arms, and her brow furrowed. "Yes, he did," she said in answer to his first question, her voice cracking. "They butchered my people, set my village ablaze. My mate was killed. And he…he struck me in the face and tore him out of my arms, and-" she broke off with a sob, her face twisting in pain. "He threw him into the fires. I could do nothing!" She broke down, cradling her infant close to her as though to chase away the horrific memories. Touketsu watched her stoically, but he could feel his chest tighten as he was gripped with powerful self hatred. Stone faced, he watched her continue to unravel as she helplessly re-engaged with the trauma. "Then…then he took me-"

"Point him out to me. I'll challenge him in hand to hand combat."

She looked up at him in surprise, her golden eyes swimming with tears. "What?"

"I'll challenge him. Unless you want to continue 'biding your time.'"

She blinked, and she quickly wiped away the tears that rolled down the bronze scales of her cheeks. "But, why?" She sniffed. "You have no personal vendetta against him. He is our Inimicus alone. There are no Familia save mine to challenge him."

"It's not all about you, woman. I have my own reasons."

She scowled, eying him suspiciously. "You are a powerful warrior. What could you possibly get out of fighting someone so weak?"

"All the Inimicus are weaklings to me, he's not special. For my own entertainment I'll make his death…interesting. So, what do you say?" he asked, a wicked smirk twisting his mouth before disappearing completely, his voice becoming serious. "This weakling will die by my hands again and again until your boy is old enough to challenge him."

Her brows drew together at his declaration, her golden eyes flickering as they searched his. Finally, she nodded. "Very well." She lead him through the crowds of attendees until she finally found him. She stopped and pointed. "There," she said, her voice thick. She turned to Touketsu. "If you wish to do this, I must go to the queen and make my official request to remove him from the Melee. He is my Inimicus, and thus my burden and responsibility."

He nodded. "You do that." He walked past her and weaved through the other banquet attendees, his eyes on Remmnya's assailant. He was a hulking brute, the same species as Remmnya but his scales lighter in tone. Clad in armor personalized with various symbols promising pain and death and his russet eyes dancing with mirth, he was yucking it up with the others low level fighters. He was a relatively young man in his prime, his power level non-existent.

"Enjoy yourself out there?" Touketsu asked dryly as he sauntered up.

The group faltered, wary of Nav's 4th quarter executioner. They had seen him fight from their benched positions within the pocket plane of the fire. The way his fighting consistently devolved into bestial sadism made them nervous, and his blood spattered gear wasn't helping. "Hey there! Touketsu, right? Yeah it's always fun to bash in some heads, but we all get our turn sometime, ha ha!" He laughed with the others.

Toukestsu snorted out a chuckle in mock amusement, his eyes cold. "Yes, that you do."

"I'm Kunthar."

"I didn't ask." Kunthar's strained grin faltered. "So what's your story? Did you get shot in the back of the head while you were taking a piss or jerking off or something?" The scales on Kunthar's face turned red. His death had been shortly after Remmnya's, and Touketsu's guess hadn't been too far from the truth. "You and I will be going one on one tomorrow night."

The others were taken aback, and Kunthar's face cracked with anxiety. He looked nervously around at his compatriots, suddenly needing to evade Touketsu's cold, red gaze. "Huh. Ha, ha. What?"

"You heard me."

Touketsu could practically see the bigger man sweat. "Look friend, I have no quarrel with you-"

"I'm not your friend," he snapped. "You and I are opponents. I'll see you in the arena tomorrow night."

He walked off, making his way to Marenna's dais. He stood before her, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked up at her. Her expressionless face mirrored his own. Hands clasped beneath her kimono, she closed her eyes and gave a single, gentle nod of her head. She had granted Remmnya's request.

He turned and left.

It was the first match of the Fourth Quarter. Kunthar swallowed, sweat beading on his forehead as he regarded the executioner from across the arena. In the Melee he could take out a good number of his opponents, and it felt good to slaughter a few before going down. He didn't like his one-on-one situation, for Kunthar was outrageously outclassed; he would be killed humiliatingly quick and his death spotlighted for all to see.

Clad in his scale lamellar armor, Touketsu stood across from Kunthar. He glanced up into the stands where he knew Remmnya was seated, close to the Imperial Box, a privilege reserved for new arrivals. Touketsu looked back to his quarry.

The gong sounded.

Kunthar reeled back with a scream, dropping his weapon to the floor with a clang as his hands went to his face. His nose had been ripped off, blood gushing from the gaping cavity. Touketsu simply stood where he was, blood dripping from the body part he held between his fingers. He was so fast no one had seen him move. Kunthar scrambled to clumsily pick up his weapon, eyes wide with fear and one hand still clasped firmly over his bleeding face.

Touketsu smirked. "Got your nose." Laughter filled the arena as he flicked it into the bonfire next to him. In the stands, Remmnya blinked in surprise.

With a snarl of barely disguised fear, Kunthar swung his broadsword out at Touketsu. He dodged again and again, arms crossed and looking completely bored. "So I heard you're a rapist." Kunthar swung out again unsuccessfully as Touketsu continued to prod, dodging without retaliating once. "Hm. Such a word makes it sound like an art form. You consider yourself an artist?"

Kunthar growled and swung out again. Touketsu phased out of the way and kicked out into the small of Kunthar's back. The bigger warrior went sprawling as he lost hold of the sword, the weapon sent spinning across the floor. "Now I like the eye for an eye approach, but I'm not the…artist you are. It's not my style, so you can thank your ass that for that," he chuckled morbidly. His smiled faded. "What, did I hit you that hard?" he asked the groaning figure rolling around on the ground, his lumbar vertebrae fractured. "Get up. GET UP!" He grabbed the other by the collar and wrenched him to his feet. Chuckling, he dusted him off. "Nothing broken, I hope," he said affably. He stepped back and lazily fired into Kunthar's crotch.

Exploded bits of flesh were sent outward, and Kunthar roared in agony. His hands went to the mutilated ruins between his legs before he sank to his knees. Touketsu looked up to the stands where Remnya was seated. Her mouth had dropped open in surprise, and she locked eyes with him. Slowly, her lips turned up into a smile, her eyes lightening as though a dashing suitor had just gifted her with a bouquet of roses. Touketsu inextricably felt his heart swell with pride, and he flashed her a roguish, fanged grin in return.

Hot tears of humiliation and horror were streaming from Kunthar's face as he wailed in agony, and Touketsu returned his attention to him. Kunthar looked up, seething and huffing in pain, his hands still clasped over the mutilated remains of his manhood.

Touketsu smirked. "Lose your favorite weapon? The short sword?"

Kunthar roared and lunged at Touketsu, who simply sidestepped out of the way. "Such a powerful warrior. Raped a woman and killed a baby. You must be very proud of defeating such mighty adversaries." He kicked him into the side, sending him rolling as he stalked up to him. "You're nothing, Kunthar. You're weak, and this match is a joke. That is hardly fair to me or our viewers tonight." His hateful expression relaxed as an idea appeared to dawn on him, and a smile tinged with madness crept across his face. "The least I can do is make this mildly entertaining. I think I'll bring an element of the Melee to this match." He whirled to the audience, smiling brightly as he swept his arms outward with all the grandiosity of a ring master. "AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION!" He announced.

There was a roar of unbridled excitement and laughter. "Ah ah, now," Touketsu added with a smirk, wagging one clawed finger in the air. The crowd calmed to an eager buzz. "I will choose the participant." He grabbed Kunthar by the hair and dragged him to the center of the arena, wrenching him around and bringing him to the floor and onto his knees. Touketsu looked up and pretended to scan the crowd. "You!" He called out, pointing to Remmnya. "What would you have me do, woman?"

Her eyes widened in surprise as all attention went to her, she and her infant suddenly filling the magical projection above. Kunthar turned his mutilated face up at the giantess and her child hovering over him. She rubbed the baby's small back in comfort when he began to fuss, her eyes growing distant as she kept them trained on the arena below. The infant's tiny mewling briefly broke into a plaintive wail, the only sound that could be heard in the now deadly quiet arena. "Take his right hand," She answered, her amplified voice hollow. The projection switched back to the arena.

Before Kunthar could process a thing, Touketsu grabbed him by the hand, extended his arm, and swung his hand down over his wrist in a blade. Howling in horror, Kunthar clutched the stump of his wrist, the wound cauterized by Touketsu's ki. Touketsu chucked the hand into the fire and again turned his attention to Remmnya. He raised an eyebrow at her silence. "Well? Get on with it woman, I haven't got all night."

Her eyes widened when she realized he was handing her all the power. "His left hand next."

"You got it."

Kunthar opened his mouth. "Wai-AHHHHHH!" Touketsu swiftly removed his other hand.

"His right arm at the elbow."

Screams filled the air as the next order was executed.

"His left arm at the shoulder."

The limb was torn off, a blast of ki delivered to the gaping wound to prevent him from bleeding out.

The feet followed. The legs next. Remnya's assailant was incrementally butchered alive, each body part thrown into the fire and he forced to watch. His jaw was torn off, his entrails pulled out. Touketsu proceeded to carry out Remmnya's final order. He picked up Kunthar's discarded sword, and, gripping the limbless, gibbering wretch by the hair, held him up. He brought the sword down through the neck, liberating the head from the body at last. He raised the head towards Remmnya to the cheers of the audience.

"Still with me?" He whispered into the dying head's ear. "Good." Touketsu tossed the sword aside and picked up the hacked remains of the body. He turned to the fire, holding Kunthar's head up high to ensure he had a good view. He swiftly flung the body into the flames and dropped the head to the floor. It rolled face up, its eyes beginning to roll back, but not before it caught the sight of Touketsu's clawed foot raised above it.

"See you later, Kunthar."

Touketsu brought his foot down and crushed the skull with a crunch, the eyeballs shooting from the shattered orbital bones. He vengefully twisted his foot, the brain matter squelching beneath it, before kicking the crushed head into the fire. Sneering, he dragged his foot over the floor a couple times to rid himself of the gore before turning his blood spattered face up to the cheering stands. Remmnya was stone faced, but her golden eyes shined with gratitude. She bowed her head to him in thanks.

I'll do it again and again. Touketsu gave her a terse nod in return before turning in preparation for battle. "NEXT!" he roared. His trembling adversary stepped into the ring. The gong sounded.

Exhilarated from battle and contented after feasting, Touketsu entered his bathing chamber and undid the lamellar cuirass. As he pulled it over his head he caught sight of himself in the ornate mirror on the wall. He turned, his brows drawing together as he dropped the armor and stepped closer. He turned his head to the side, one hand going to his jaw in examination. It was still there - the older bruise from when he blatantly let that one fighter take a free shot.

He frowned. That was nights ago. He didn't think the guy hit him that hard. He looked down at the bruises peppering his bare torso with fresh eyes, his hand going to the shallow gash over his abdomen. It was the one he took from that sword blow that same first night he acted as executioner. The weapon barely bit though his armor and he hadn't even felt it, so he was a little surprised when he later found any mark at all.

He again looked at the bruise on his jaw. In retrospect these small wounds seemed to be taking a bit long to heal. With a shrug he finished stripping down and drew a bath. He'd been intentionally careless with these wholly uninspiring contenders. He'd just treat one of them to Kuromshimo tomorrow night and take care of these lingering scratches.

He flopped into bed, a smile on his face. A new life. A new life that was filled with nothing but the best he could ever hope for: Battle, feasting, prestige, luxuries…and no obligations. He pushed down concerns of Zhernobog and the dark ki that threatened to rise and instead focused on the feel of the luxurious furs covering the bed. It wasn't long before that pleasant, post-battle fatigue crept up on him. Content, he closed his eyes and relented. The night's events replayed in a jumble, pre-images of coming dreams as he teetered between the realm of sleep and wakefulness.

He saw Remmnya holding her child, her glittering gold eyes warm with gratitude. They began to cool. Their light disappearing like the sun sinking below the ocean, her irises took on the blue color of the depths. He chased after the diminishing light like a lost traveler lured by fool's fire, and like a lost traveler he found himself sinking into a swamp of blackness.

He fell asleep.

Remmnya's and Amnon's story is based on an account given by a survivor of the Rohingya genocide in Myanmar.