The Horse with No Name

Chapter Thirty-Five

The Doctor's Counsel

The Estate, the Realm of the Almighty

By now it's a sort of trend that Gohan has found himself melded into the lavish comfort of one of the armchairs within Quell's quarters. Whilst usually dark and humming with gentle candlelight through a forest of house plants, the cosiness is lost, instead voided by the open bay windows overlooking the lake and greenery surrounding. The day is an overcast one however. No birds sing. All is morose, and Quell, of course, is no different.

"You are absolutely full of it, Mori!" he barks, finger pointed.

Gohan doesn't move.

"Do you take me for a jester, a fool, a clown?"

This time, he shakes his head.

"Truly, it is my fault for ever putting weight on your words in the first place. What was it you said? Let me think. Yes... 'I've made my choice' you'd announced. Oh, but my apologies. How foolish of me to even dare consider you devout to our collective…" Quell breathes, tragic, slamming his tumbler down with the dedication of a headsman. Fiery spirit bounces onto mahogany. "This soft underbelly of yours will only set you – and us now – to fail! You refused to cut the umbilical cord strangle-holding you to your filthy mortal existence and now that noose has once again ensnared you. I warned you. I warned you to see yourself free of such trivial, meaningless relations only set to weaken you. That planet and your regretful time on it have ruined you. I swear it."

Gohan nods, placid.

"And now, there is a mortal child in a divine place he ought to have no place being, dragging in his filthy, undignified lack of respect and manner of living. Do not think I didn't see it whilst on Earth. I had to wipe my feet on the way out. For what right do you think – what was its name? Goken –"

"Goten."

"Whatever." A hand bats. "For what right do you think this mortal should have been salvaged from the pits of Hell if only because of your evident weakness for these Earthlings? Can't you see your own convoluted loyalties?"

"I know my loyalties."

"No, you don't. Which leads me to say; this is going exactly as I warned you it would should you juggle your true family and these… these imposters you fashioned yourself being born into. You want to protect this mortal boy as well as take on the Kai? And what? You want to steer clear of your beloved Earth, too? What else do you want from me, Mori, my beating heart on a platter? It won't be beating soon. I'll be dead with one misstep in this jungle full of conniving Kai and gods and whatever else that wishes to jump free from the woodwork, and you shall join me in such obscurity should you continue to flirt with idiocy (though, I suppose you would like that, what with your abhorrent hunger for martyrdom). Honestly… And all because of your immature inability to let go of this false identity of yours; how you complicate everything. How you make it all the more difficult to traverse war! How you ruin yourself with a bleeding heart! How you… How you test me!"

A wave of pressure bursts free, several paintings fall from the wall. Downstairs, Gohan hears one of the servants yelp in the kitchen. He, meanwhile, sips his own rye. "You done?"

Quell's lip curls. He pushes his tumbler forward with the perverseness befitting a toddler. "No, I'm bloody well not. Here, top me up. You're better for nothing else. So it turns out, you're about as useful as a prick flavoured lollipop."

"Lovely."

Gohan does as asked regardless. The copper fire gurgles free from the decanter and Quell watches him with a level of meticulous devotion branded only to him.

"Rixas thinks they're plotting an attack; the Kai," Quell eventually says, thankfully calmer. He takes the glass. "His Intel leads him to believe they are after something. As for me, I believe they want the relic that's currently holed up in the Spire."

"Yeah. That orb must be something powerful," Gohan agrees, next topping himself up. The decanter nearly shatters when he recalls the memory of the doctors slicing his little brother open to retrieve that horrid ball. "The power of ki stabilization; I'm surprised you haven't been interested in it before."

"I prefer not to rely on trinkets."

Gohan snorts, derisive. "Let me guess; strength comes from within? Very wholesome."

"And what? This comes from the child who believes in the power of friendship and family? Your mortal ideals make me nauseous, little brother. I cannot understand you. And let me add on; protecting that boy will do you no good."

"It's not up for debate."

"Oh, really? Well, well. Aren't you so self-assured these days?" Quell tips his head back against the armchair, hair pooling out as a golden crown. "You could have fooled me considering you currently look to be the walking deceased. When did you last rest?"

Gohan actually manages to laugh, tired, oh so tired. He pinches his brow. "Two – no, three – days ago. I'm fine. Look, I just need you to know that Goten's safety isn't to be gambled. I know you spare little care for him but this is important to me. He's an innocent boy worried about his brother – just some idiotic kid who thought himself clever by… urgh… ingesting a cursed artefact. How much of a threat can he really be to you? Really? Brother, listen, If you… If you…"

"Spit it out."

"If you do something to him, Quell, I won't… forgive you."

"So dramatic."

"Quell."

"Fine. I hear your words."

"And you agree to abide by them?"

He sours, lips puckering. "I won't harm the mortal but I won't go out of my way to protect it. Should it perish then, truly, that's not bad news to me, but such an occurrence won't be by my hand. See this as your own personal task to watch over it."

"Him. He's not an animal."

"Whatever."

"…That's about as good as it's going to get from you, isn't?"

"Unfortunately so." Standing, Quell moves over to peer through the greyness of the world beyond the bay window. "Personally, I view it as quite the arc shift for my character," he adds with mirth, "Appreciate my newly found benevolence."

Gohan breathes out, amused. The whisky's sharpness burns his nostrils. "It's true. You are being unusually agreeable."

"It won't last, especially considering what we're facing. Let me bring us back around to the conversation concerning relics and the Orb of Permanence. Here, I feel like we will potentially butt heads on what we must do regarding its future, horns interlocked upon my now suggestion of using it."

"Trinkets, you said—"

"Don't paraphrase me," he snaps, "I don't personally rely upon them, however, it could prove useful to solidify the foundation of any ki or magic we may need to use in the future. Kai barriers and blocked magical warps will prove especially weak against it. Our path will be opened. But let me guess… you wish to destroy it?"

"The only reason I haven't so far is because of the curse placed upon it." Gohan sighs. It's true. He's taken the Z Sword to it, had specialists look over it, curse-breakers too, he even had the doctors at the Spire take a crack; still, nothing. It doesn't even chip. "The Zealites are at a loss, too. They've destroyed several artefacts now but this one is proving difficult."

"Have you given it to Zamasu?"

Gohan recoils. "Are you mad? I don't trust him."

There's a laugh. "Good boy. You've not completely lost it yet, then. Though, I am glad you brought him on despite my absolute desire to snuff the light from his eyes. He's proving excellent for reliable intel."

"Do you believe what he said yesterday?"

"That the Kai are planning to attack? Yes. It could be the estate though we cannot be too sure. I've asked Rixas to secure the border and the fortitude the realm as a whole. The inhabitants are not too pleased with more military personnel parading the streets. I've heard a fair share of complaints."

"They'll be thankful should we be attacked. Now that Beerus has officially joined ranks with the Kai…" Gohan sighs, groaning into his hands. "It's not like we didn't expect it… It's just… we need his dragon ball and I know he has an interest with the people of Earth and… ugh…"

Warmth presses down on his shoulder. Gohan opens his eyes to see the steady smile of his brother. "Go to your quarters. Get some sleep. You clearly need it. I promise you that sleep makes all this so much easier."

He wants to argue but a streak of pain across the temples has him bite his tongue. He nods. All right. Sleep doesn't sound like the worst thing. Ever since bringing Goten to the Realm of the Almighty he hasn't had a full night, and whatever sleep he does manage is wracked with discomfort. Nightmares bother him in their returned assault, as though they're now the default and that waking up in drenched horror should be the norm. Myra had charged in a few days back when she'd heard him shout. Despite him telling her not to, she'd found him at his worse; pale, wet and shaking as he'd tried to bleach the memories from his mind's eye. No longer do the victims of pillaged villages visit, but his baby brother.

Goten had begged for him as the waters of Hell had swallowed him. He'd cried, first with sadness and then with joy as the evilness consumed him. Gohan had watched as Goten choked. He'd watched and done nothing, had not revealed himself, had not moved.

For a moment, back in reality when he'd been reunited with Goten in Hell, he'd honestly considered not pulling down his mask – he hadn't wanted to do it; it'd hurt to show the monster he's now accepted himself as. His cowardice had nearly won. Had Gohan not showed himself then what? Would… Would Goten have…?

In the dreams Goten does die. Over and over; Gohan has front row seats.

"It's not real, my lord," Myra had whispered, taking his hand, bearing witness to his naked vulnerability.

But it's very real. What a silly girl. All this is real.

He'd sent her out because allowing her to peek at his helplessness is getting harder and harder. The way she looks at him now makes him feel pitiful, like she can see right through him. Gohan needs to be stronger than this. He needs to prove to her, and to Quell, and to the universe that he is a force of his own making.

Gohan looks to Quell. The smile has died.

"I'm fine. Look, I'm going. I'm going."

Quell doesn't immediately pull away, but when he does, it comes with words of wisdom.

"Burning the candles at both ends will eventually hinder you. Too much light for the eyes is as useless as darkness."

Gohan lies in his bed.

Nightmares… again and again and…

There's a sigh.

Once upon a time ago in the not so distant past, hitting his head against the feathery pillow brought upon salvation from the complexities of life. Now, and for so, so long, it's only induced anxiety; bundling Gohan's real life terrors into a despicable package of twisted hauntings. Gohan expects to see Goten again behind his eyelids, and also those dead children that suffered a fate worse than their already horrid deaths, and the copious innocents who met their ends by warlords and such ilk. Those poor souls in Hell; Gohan suspects he'll see them, too.

Why can't this stop bothering him?

Why is he so weak to it?

Rixas and Quell and all the other gods… they don't suffer like he does, do they? Why is it just him?

He's helping them now. So why aren't the nightmares going away? Why do the souls still beg for his mercy? Why do they still haunt him?

The truth of it is that there's no escape. Earth had been a fine distraction for a time. Sure. He'd slept soundly, pretended to be Gohan Son for a while, but… it'd soon caught up. It always does. It always will.

"But this is not about me," he says up at his tapestry.

He snorts. God. Even to him, it sounds like self-pity. Maybe Quell's right. Maybe he does want to be a martyr.

It hurts. Gohan knows that path he's walking is barbed. With each step, he's going to hurt not only those around him but himself. The other day, he'd made Goten cry when revealing his circumstance. Tears had run down his face at the news and Gohan had barely even comforted him.

"I made my choice," he reminds himself. Part of him was honestly relieved that Goten can no longer fight, however cruel that it is. How wonderful that no longer will Goten suffer the burden of expectation from their father. He'll be free.

God, how heartless…

To be harsh is to be kind; is that his excuse? Being honest, Gohan can admit that the emotional distancing is easier on him too. Gohan doesn't want to face Goten or his dad or any of the others.

But… it's inevitable.

Beerus' unusual interest in his dad will ruin all. Dad will step up, now enraged at having lost two sons, and then Gohan will have to reveal himself to rock every boat until everyone drowns. It's all going to go to shit. Just why the hell did Goten have to eat that fucking relic? What an idiot. What an inconceivably reckless idiot! Gohan had wanted to throttle him as soon as Byleath had brought him to his attention. Who would even think that that's a good idea? It was dangerous – it'd nearly killed him. The orb had nearly drained him dry of his energy.

Gohan would have had to return a corpse to their father. It's enough to make him sick, even now.

The rage he'd felt at Goten… God… Good God. Gohan has never felt such a thing.

Fear perverted into ugly, burning wrath. Choice words had been thrown back at the Spire.

"Are you even my brother?!" Goten had cried as a result.

Yes, Gohan had wanted to scream back. Of course he's still his fucking brother; otherwise Gohan wouldn't be jumping the hoops he needs to in order to keep him safe. But no, instead, he'd wanted to hurt the little idiot. Gohan had wanted to – and still wants to – punish him, for not only making him more scared than he's ever been in his life, but for also ruining his plans in this delicate situation.

He breathes, remembering his vow.

We'll deliver Goten back to Earth. All will be well.

That sweet unlikelihood helps him catch an hour or two of rest, at least. He wakes to a sorry looking Myra softly jostling him.

"I'm sorry, my lord. Captain Roarg says that you wanted to meet with her. Do you want me to send her away, I can—?"

He attempts a smile, but it's watery at best. "No need. I'm up."

"Lord Mori—"

"Tell her I'll be down shortly. I'll shower and meet her by the barracks."

"…Yes, sir."

"Ah, also, on your way out could you start up my computer, please? I need to contact Doctor Jivel."

"Of course. Anything else? Can I get you a coffee or something to eat? When did you last eat?"

He sits up, stretching. "I'm fasting."

Her usual impertinence shines through this cool new exterior of hers. An eyebrow rises.

"I am," he laughs. "It's for my training. Honestly, it is. I'm not lying. I swear."

"You can have black coffee then," she says, "I'll have one of the servers bring it to you in a timely manner."

As promised, the coffee is sitting on his desk when he emerges from the shower. He sips at it, still drying his hair when he makes the call from his computer. The good doctor won't care. He's seen Gohan in far less professional settings. In fact, the first thing he says to Gohan when he answers the video call is;

"You don't look at all well, my lord."

Gohan clicks his tongue. "Oh, everyone's a critic." He continues to rub his hair dry. "I'm sure we can schedule me in at some point for a check-up. Today, however, I'm calling about Goten."

"As always, there is nothing to report."

"No?"

"His health is improving. This morning we allowed him into the garden."

"And there was no funny business?"

"Unless you'd consider trying to pet the inhabiting birds as 'funny business' no. He's quite possibly the best behaved patient I've had in years."

Gohan removes the towel just so the doctor can see his flat expression. "I'm sure there's an insult in there somewhere."

"If the shoe fits, my lord."

"Well." He makes a show of drinking his coffee, smacking his lips. "I'll be there tomorrow anyway for the confidentiality review. Make sure he's well rested though I'm positive you don't need to be told as much. It's just… I'm not exactly sure what the process entails on a memory cleanse. Magic isn't my forte. I've been told that it can be quite strenuous on the patient however."

Doctor Jivel hums, churning his glasses. "Goten should be fit enough. It's about whether or not he's mentally stable enough to have his mind tinkered with. Since your last visit, he's been…"

Gohan raises a brow.

"Flat."

"Flat?"

"Perhaps it's above my station to say but I think whatever you said hurt—"

"It is above your station," Gohan snaps, immediately regretting it. He groans, throwing the towel down. "Sorry, I'm sleeping like crap. It's a valid comment. I know I upset him, but you must understand that I can't coddle him otherwise he'll get too attached and not only can he not afford to do that, I can't either. With the situation mounting as it is…" There's a sigh. "I'm not just some Earthling. I have a role to enact as a God of Revelation."

"Mmm… Do you require a sit down with Doctor Hezk? She can help you—"

"No, thanks. I can't say I'm a fan of her techniques." He recalls her trickery in using the hallucinogenic candle several years back. "I'll be fine. I am fine."

"Well, the option is there," Jivel reminds, and Gohan nods dutifully. "As for Goten, I don't see any other reason why he might not be suitable for a memory cleanse but if there are other options then maybe you should explore them too. Lasting effects of a cleanse can bring about a whole host of problems should the technique be performed incorrectly. And truly, I believe what he knows isn't substantial or at all detrimental to your cause; he barely understands his whereabouts let alone your motivations."

"He knows my identity, Doctor."

"As will the rest of the universe should you continue your path. If you ask me, Gohan, I think this cleanse or, as you call it, confidentiality review, is going to be a waste of time. You are simply delaying the inevitable."

Gohan ponders over those words as he makes his way to the barracks shortly thereafter. The idea of leaving Goten with his memories intact results in a bad taste in his mouth. Call it cowardice, call it ease, call it whatever, Gohan doesn't need an excuse to know that he doesn't want to leave this can of worms open. Goten needs to get back to Earth and the hell away from Gohan, and from Quell and Haed and Zamasu and every other beast that would be happy to be eternally rid of mortals.

As Gohan moves along the courtyard he notices Rixas going along an opposite path. He's carrying one of his overcompensating butter knives as he struts about decked in his formal fighting wear. Either he's just come back from wherever Quell sent him in order to fortify the realm or he's about to meet his faction of soldiers. It's so easy to forget that the soldiers are in fact his when they operate so well under Roarg.

Upon noticing Gohan, Rixas simply nods his head and continues along his route. It's a bit anticlimactic, but welcome as Gohan isn't ready to face him, lest with Goten now knocking about as a result of Rixas' vengeful antics on Earth. Nope. The cinders dancing about his stomach are not tame enough for that confrontation just yet.

Roarg, on the other hand, brings about a tempered smile.

"Sorry for keeping you," Gohan greets, stopping short of the crown-topped barracks.

She doesn't look too bothered, sitting there with a book and a large canister of water. From the empty plate, Gohan guesses that she'd just finished having her dinner. A second plate sits beside it.

"I'm surprised you are here at all, Lord Mori," she replies, not sounding surprised whatsoever. "That manic assistant of yours spun the tale that you were resting. I know a fabrication when I hear one, however, as the Lord Mori I know never takes a moment to consider his own health."

"Oh, so disappointing. Neither you nor Rixas believed the possibility?" he tests, quirking his head, grinning just for her.

The book ("String Instruments of East Quadrant") slams shut. She stands, pulling her braid along her shoulder before stretching out. Her arm clicks and she pulls her neck left; immediately, Gohan spots a nick of blood by her chin as if to advertise the latest training session.

"Swordplay?" he asks, curious.

"Lord Rixas wanted the practice."

Perhaps he'd noticed Gohan relying more on the Z Sword. In fact, Gohan had actually trained with it yesterday when he got an hour to breathe and had so desperately needed to blow off steam. However busy he's been, Gohan has managed to find time to train. It's imperative to stay on his toes, what with Beerus and whoever else he may have to face. Maybe Rixas had noticed him out and decided to practise, too – Rixas doesn't like to lose after all, especially in matters of physical prowess; and it's for sure that Gohan's quick growth has wobbled him.

Of course Roarg senses Gohan's poorly hidden competitiveness; he sees that playful side of her, like witnessing rain in the drought.

"You could just challenge him," she suggests with a sparkle about her eyes, "It would do you both good to get it out of your system."

"I don't think Quell would appreciate the state we'd leave the estate grounds in."

"Nor would he appreciate the state you'd leave one another in, either, I suppose."

"That, too." Gohan's smile dwindles and he reaches for her arm. "Hey… Are you all right?"

Are we all right?

She opens her mouth only to close it again, looking unsure. It's fleeting and Gohan wonders if he ever saw it at all. There's a second attempt. "My lord," she gets out. "I feel the need to… say something."

"I'd be more than happy to hear it."

The cordial response off-sets her and she lingers a little longer, just in time for them to be interrupted by an encroaching Eyrelle, who carries a fine sword of her own; spindly and pinprick sharp. She smiles at Roarg, waving loosely. Upon reaching Gohan, she bows until gestured otherwise.

"You don't need to do that."

"Nonsense, Lord Mori," she replies, cool. "I am showing my allegiance."

Roarg shoots a look between both of them. He's glad he's not the only one sensing the animosity – a feeling born since his… dissolving of the Council, though he doesn't necessarily blame Eyrelle for the grudge. She likely hates herself more than she hates him right now.

She'll come around…

"I see that you are busy, Roarg," Eyrelle continues, "Perhaps next time we can catch up in the centre."

Upon seeing her, Gohan's reminded of their last conversation just the other day at the meeting. "Eyrelle, before you go can you tell me; in the end did you or Zamasu unearth anything more on the dizzy throw? Haed has asked as much."

Roarg's brows press. "Dizzy throw?"

"A practice used to misplace something or someone usually of importance," Gohan explains, "As you know, there are seven super dragon balls and we possess a number of them now. Beerus has one, there's Haed's and there is the final ball that is without a disclosed location. For this final ball, the Council used the dizzy throw to coil the ball to a random place somewhere in the universe."

"It is literally as it sounds," Eyrelle elaborates, "It's a magically-infused launch in a spiral manner. The projectile pathway is very difficult to calculate."

"But not impossible," Gohan reminds.

"No. Not impossible but it might as well be. Zamasu is still working on it; to answer your question. I believe he is no closer as he was the last time we spoke about it, but I do know that he has since reached out to those still in the Council's favour for the launch site coordinates."

Roarg is startled. "You've just been estimating?"

"The dizzy throw is performed in stealthy conditions, only select kais even know about it; so with that being said, the launch site's location is a guarded secret."

It's not as if they'd been going in on this blind. There are several locations of interest with links to the Kai people – the issue is getting access to these locations. With territory now outlined, Gohan knows where he can go, and most annoyingly, where he cannot.

"Someone must have an idea," Roarg says, "Whoever threw it, being an option."

Gohan smiles, strained. "You'd think."

"The Kai agreed to a cleansing of memories after the act."

Roarg closes her eyes. "…Of course they did."

"It is the fairest way, even Zamasu agreed to the cleanse when the throw was arranged – the Supreme Kai, he too approved. That way nobody would know and all will remain just."

"The method was recklessly successful," Gohan cements with a deep sigh. When he is unable to keep the thought of Goten and swallowing the orb out of mind he sours. "It's like failing upwards; achieving your goal by … the most… ridiculous means."

"Like reincarnating oneself," Roarg returns, amused.

"My, my. How cutthroat."

"I am sure you have said worse, my lord."

Gohan actually laughs, leaning back. "Have I upset you, Roarg? You're verging on hurting my feelings," he jokes, savouring the momentary lightness. "Do you need something out of your system? I'm sure I could spare a moment to train if you want to try and hit me with that ghastly thing you call a sword."

"If you could truly spare a moment then perhaps you should reacquaint yourself with your bed, sir."

"Yes, how nice it would be to be like a caterpillar: eat a lot, sleep for a while and wake up beautiful. If only it was that easy…"

"Sleep; a luxury even a god cannot afford these days…"

He grins.

"Yes… Well…" Eyrelle looks uncomfortably between the two. "I shall update you when I hear more, my lord."

"Ah-h, sure."

She bows again and disappears along the same path Rixas took, leaving the two alone in their patch of greenery. Whatever bout of playfulness had been emitting from Roarg dies quickly, snuffed by the embarrassment. Perhaps, in front of Eyrelle, she had been.

But Roarg and Gohan are friends; he'd said that years ago when he'd been drunk and she'd been his nurse on one of those dismal, sickly-sweet smelling bar streets. When he thinks of those days, he recalls the dark place he'd been in, but he also remembers how close he'd become with Rixas and Roarg.

She'd been the first person he'd met here.

Intimidating, tall and strong; aspects easily picked out when first meeting her. Her captaincy is a part of her identity, she takes it seriously; there's stability to her that Gohan values in a person. She's respectable and intelligent, yet sarcastic, witty and… and she's not half bad to look at. There's so much to love about her – he does love her, about as much as he's able to, about as much as he loves Videl, about as much as he can love anyone like that. Sometimes, Gohan thinks he sways between loving too deeply or not at all enough. Regulating his feelings feels so foreign as of recent – he hurts still, yes, he has nightmares, he feels for others and he can fully empathise… Yet, like in the Kai chamber… he can turn off these feelings and do what he must.

Gohan can kill over and over.

He can do it, cry and then do it again.

And that scares him.

Gohan knows exactly how to distance himself from the emotions, and now, looking at Roarg and her pretty blonde hair and freckles, it's more evident than ever; over and over, he's mourning that very love he must deny himself – not just with her, but with everyone outside of the collective. Gohan will protect those he cares for but… he has his goals and his brothers and… no-one will distract him from either. To Roarg and Eyrelle and Goten and Dad; should he need to, he'll be cold to do right by them. He'll be strong. Achieving his goal will bring about a brighter tomorrow for everyone.

"What was it that you wanted to say?" Gohan asks Roarg eventually, "Before Eyrelle came over."

She doesn't reply for a while. "It doesn't matter."

They talk only a little longer and Gohan brings up what he actually wanted to talk to her about; business and the possible attack from the Kai; work important to her by her position and little else. When he asks about the grounds' fortification, she updates that she'd just met with both her soldiers and the Zealites working beneath Gohan. Of course she can't be referring to Byleath as he's currently on Earth doing deeds Gohan feels like he should feel guiltier about enforcing.

During the last meeting, Zamasu had brought up the ugly fact that Gohan had indeed spared his father when he ought not to in matters of illegally used techniques. It's a fair call out. Gohan had had a hand in Yardrat and the elimination of Instant Transmission there, and he's now been responsible for the destruction of many, many relics. The surprise comes from Zamasu being the one to bring it up and not Quell.

So he had made a plan, promising results but saying little else.

"Leave Earth to me," Gohan had told the group.

"And Goku Son?"

"Don't touch him."

Zamasu had smiled that nasty, watery etch into his face like he couldn't enjoy Gohan's answer more.

"It's my charge," he'd continued, eying the wretched being distastefully. "Earth is a place of interest for the Kai and for Beerus, too. We have Goten and that's what will matter most to Goku Son and the group that may possibly face us."

Quell had scoffed. "You think the Kai will care?"

"My dad will. Goten's life has value."

Eyrelle had watched him like a hawk, humming. "Value… Are you willing to use him as a bartering tool, Lord Mori?"

"It won't come to that."

Quell had also been interested. "Are you willing?"

Gohan hadn't answered.

Instead, he had told them of his latest advancements on Earth. Most recently, the Zealites had set Korin's tower ablaze along with all the senzu beans growing there. If Byleath is to be believed there were no casualties, altercations or anything of the like. The job had been fast and unexpected; as Gohan had hoped.

Now, as Gohan currently stands alongside Roarg overlooking the parading soldiers, he mulls his next steps. Currently, with Byleath on Earth, that's for the Zealites is to relocate Dende to Namek. It's a sad but necessary move as once he's gone; the ease of access to healing will be cut from Earthlings. Only the Kai will then be able to assist them – and Gohan will cut them off soon enough, too. If the Earth fighters have less access to healing then they will need to play it all the smarter; they haven't the resources, they aren't as unbreakable. Death will claim them should they misstep. Piccolo and Vegeta will remind them all of that, dragging Dad into reality even if has to go along with their common sense, kicking and screaming. To destroy their resources is to destroy their plight. Shin, their one link to all of this, has at least stayed away. In fact, he's stayed – quite possibly strayed – away longer than Gohan had expected. So, Gohan will have to take this abandonment as a 'no' to his offer as head of the Council, then.

How disappointing.

Whatever. When he turns up again, Gohan will deal with him accordingly.

Then, it's just Dad and his Instant Transmission…

Gohan raps his fingers along his arms, drumming to the beat of marching soldier steps.

I'm not looking forward to getting rid of that.

"My lord," Roarg says, quiet. "Lord Quell is beckoning you."

And that he is. Gohan sees him waving towards him in the distance, gold amongst the thick trees. His body aches but lumbers forward dutifully, immediate.

As they say, there's no rest for the wicked.

And Gohan is exhausted.

The Spire, the Realm of the Almighty

The days pass by under the thin sheet of pink eyelids. Goten sleeps a lot, his body lethargic beneath the weight of drugs administered by the admittedly kind staff here at the Spire. They're mostly pumped into him from whatever they have him hooked up to. What are they? He doesn't know. What he does know is that the drugs give him a clean sleep at least, dreamless and easy to wake from upon being served a generous serving of meat and vegetables. Sometimes, he opens his eyes to see bread, or even sugary cake. All the food here is sweet and rich and plentiful. Honestly, it's delicious. It's the thing he looks forward to seeing most.

Goten gazes towards the door in his room, feeling very little.

The only thing…

He hasn't had a visitor since that woman dropped by; Roarg, where, perhaps four or five days ago, she'd deposited an oversized bag onto his lap and left without a single word. The contents had been a welcome surprise however. There'd been books – Earth books – along with sweets, comics, a sketch book and a set of drawing pencils, eraser and sharpener. And annoyingly, only one person here would have known what flavour of Rainbow Drops he likes best and what books he'd actually read. Goten had flicked through them, undeniably excited to see the familiar text of his home, to be able to read and understand something.

"Graphic Design in the City" is actually a book Goten read last year beneath his desk in Maths class using his phone torch, but he's happy nonetheless to have the opportunity to read it again, especially considering how long and boring the days can be here. Three other books with similar themes are currently piled next to him on the table next to his bed. They piss him off because they're gifted from someone who's turned out to be a big, fat, stinking liar, whilst also having the audacity to still be thoughtful in all the ways expected. Dad wouldn't have known what to buy him, Mum would have outright refused to get him art stuff, but Gohan? Oh, well, apparently that guy is not only Goten's biggest supporter but also the asshole that inadvertently ruined all of their lives by choosing to stay "dead".

Just what the hell happened to him? He's… He's different, sure, but Goten recognizes him. Goten sees Gohan.

What did they do to him?

They call him Lord; the Zealites even addressed him as Lord Mori, and everyone walks on eggshells around the subject. Nobody is telling him squat.

And then there's Gohan himself…

"Are you even my brother?"

"…Vetoed."

It'd hurt. Yep. It'd hurt a lot. Goten had cried and cried. And since then he's been confused and restless, and scared – that, too – as nobody is giving him any meaningful updates. Doctor Jivel is a nice guy and he tries to keep Goten positive but it's fruitless. There's Goten much he doesn't understand, with Hell, with Gohan, with the gods and the kais and with ki… his ki.

I'll never fight again.

Around and around his brain goes; it's been like this for days. It's been a roundabout of shit and more shit. First, he's confused and then he's angry and then he's sad, and then, worst of all, he's disappointed in himself because of his idiotic decision to disable himself. The night he'd learned of such a fate, he'd not eaten a morsel of food, not spoken to any doctor or nurse kind enough to try and deal with him.

He's never been too much of a fighter, but to have that option stripped…

Why does he feel so bad… for Dad?

Goten allowed himself to feel self-pity for the rest of that night, but the morning following he had the realization of;

If I hadn't swallowed the orb then I would have never found Gohan.

It's a fundamental truth of the situation. Without the orb, he'd still be back on Earth with his dad and the others, knowing nothing. At least he has the knowledge that his brother is alive and… well? Um, well, he'd seemed well enough, Goten supposes. It doesn't look like Gohan has been forced to do anything he doesn't want to…

In fact, he'd seemed excited, if anything, bubbling with energy that off-set Goten just a little bit.

"But don't worry. It's a good thing. I'm helping people. I just can't say, y'know? I can't spoil the surprise but I'm sure, out of everyone, you'd understand my plight."

Just what does that even mean? What plight? What is he doing? Has he been the one behind all the relics being busted up? That's what the Zealites had been doing, right? They'd been going around causing havoc and riling up the kais, wrecking stuff like the dragon balls and other artefacts; does that mean Gohan wants them destroyed? But why would he? Gohan has used the dragon balls before, many times even. He used to have one atop that stupid little hat Mum likes to whip out constantly – the Four Star had practically been his!

It's infuriating. What the heck is Gohan up to? He sat in on the meetings on Earth, saying zilch, knowing so, so much more than the rest of them.

Ugh! Something must be going on in that brain of his.

"Do you want to go into the garden today, Goten?" Doctor Jivel asks from his usual spot by the computer.

Goten shrugs. What else is there to do? It's fenced around and he can't see anything other than some trees but it's pretty nonetheless. The pond had been nice on the first day but now he's bored of watching the koi swim aimlessly. The only thing he can do out there is draw.

In fact, that's the only thing he's been doing every day. He'd sketched the pond, drawn one of the sparkly birds that had been perched on the bench beside him, and then the other that had joined it. Doodles of flowers and insects and whatever – whoever – else that took his fancy litters the sketchbook throughout. Some are scribbly and hide in the corner of pages whilst other pieces, like that of the birds, spread over two sides of A4 impressively and steal the eye until there is nothing beyond it. Goten had put a lot of time into it. He hadn't had anything else to do, of course, and so he'd allowed himself to enjoy it.

It's as such that the birds perhaps knew of Goten's endeavour because they'd become braver and soon Goten had been able to touch them. One spitfire took some stale bread from him, the other sang. Once Goten had finished with the piece he'd taken great pleasure in showing them. Neither had much cared but Goten had enjoyed their pitter-patter dance regardless, smear of bird dropping aside.

Doctor Yuluk – the one that doesn't speak the "common language" – had taken the time to show Goten how to beckon the birds after that, likely after having witnessed Goten's companionship with them. After that day, Goten had felt finally revitalized, lighter even, from having a moment not at all about Gohan or this situation or how he's made everyone feel on Earth. It'd been a breath of fresh air.

Goten does go outside. It's raining today but the garden has a sloping roof so he gets to enjoy watching the drops sprinkle down and water the shrubs. He's in a sort of therapeutic daze, one that comes with those heavy, mind-foggy days. No birds join him but he does read and, after a time, sketch. The air is damp and Goten can taste the surrounding foliage. If he closes his eyes he could be on Earth and back at the Mausoleum – or rather, the Son House – his home. Goten could be home.

Instead, his eyes remain open and he enjoys the rain as it waterfalls freely along the fence. It's no surprise to him that he doesn't yearn to be back there. He doesn't want to be home.

He wants answers.

Goten has been here at the Spire for nearly ten days now. His candy collection is depleted, his 9B pencil has seen better times and his sketchbook is nearly full. Considering Roarg hasn't dropped by to launch another bag at him, Gohan must be due back soon for whatever this mysterious "confidentiality review" is. And when he comes back Goten'll be ready for him.

Goten made a sacrifice to be here. He gave up his ability to fight. For that, he'll get something.

Absently, he begins to trace a circle shape and before he knows it, four little stars sit centre. Goten tries to remember Shenron's design but ultimately forgets and ends up just shading in the silhouette. Six more balls join their brother, with Goten finishing the lighting on the seventh just in time for Doctor Jivel to come over and give his approval.

"The dragon balls," he says, sounding wise and distant against raindrops. He stands over Goten, holding a steaming cup of something sweet-smelling.

"You know about the dragon balls?"

"Oh, why wouldn't I? They are famous after all, and what an enthralling legend they hail from. You know, I once had the pleasure of coming into contact with one of these balls many, many years ago; long before your time."

"On Earth?"

"Earth?" There's a brush of confusion. "Oh, that's right. You had dragon balls there, too."

"There are other balls?"

"Well, of course. Do you not know the tale?"

Goten lowers his sketchbook to the floor, eager.

Doctor Jivel is a man Goten found himself liking almost immediately, along with Doctor Yuluk and a variety of the staff here. Despite Goten being essentially a prisoner, they've been as accommodating as possible, and that's demonstrated here when the doctor slips the hot chocolate into Goten's hands as he takes a seat beside him.

He removes his glasses and cleans at the layering condensation. "Well," he begins pointedly, brow raised, "Why don't you first tell me what you know of the dragon balls so I know what to omit?"

"Uh, they're just seven balls. You bring them together and you can make a wish, or two, or three, depending on the dragon or guardian or whoever decides that stuff."

"That stuff..." He chuckles good-naturedly and slides the spectacles back on. "Is most notably not decided by the guardian in charge of the balls, but instead something far more divine. Though, do not let me warp the whisper too much for such power links to the Namekians' natural energy reserves as individuals. And that comes from an age-old tradition of the Namekian to interlink oneself with soulful artefacts.

"The Namekian are a suppositious people; ancient and knowing. Though you would not believe so now, looking at how few they are in number and dwindling in influence, but they were once a force to be reckoned with before the deities intervened. From the impressive height of their civilization, they fell a great distance and into the pit of poverty, cursed with the inability to reproduce at a sustainable rate. They'd been left to squander the dregs of history and weakened to the dismal state you see them now."

"Wait, really? Why?"

"The God of Destruction – not Lord Beerus – but another at the time saw them a threat. Their existence had been in line to tip the balance, you see. The Namekians were magical, mythical prodigies, deft with energy and creation; and whilst they were not dark by nature, no, they certainly came with risks. You see, Goten, when you shine so brightly, of course you will attract those who seek the light, or rather, you attract those who hunt it with the aim of starving the fire. The gods quickly found them. Whether out of luck for the people of Namek or as a twist of fate, this Destroyer had been a kind, soft-hearted being in comparison to what you see today. He had let them continue to exist with the half-life granted to them."

"From the ones I've met, the Namekians don't seem unhappy now."

"My boy, if the tale is true then they had been kings amongst the normality. They had stood toe-to-toe with the gods. The Namekians had been the mortals' defining glory, their beacon of hope, their front line defence… And of course, no-one of true divinity can allow for that."

"So the gods… the Destroyer had to, what, sterilize them?"

"He lowered their threat level, but before he managed to do as such, the Namekian had created not only the Namekian dragon balls, but also they had pooled together their own energy to birth a being so powerful that even the gods could not deny such a feat.

"Zalama. He's the Dragon God and the father of the Super Dragon Balls, a warrior so great that he lives as the dragon spirit as best to compress his enormous strength. So many gods do this as a small bipedal form often struggles to contain such prowess, and Zalama reigned above some of the best of them. The balls he'd created are said to be as big as planets, the wishes they'd grant; without obstruction. To such a being, the gods had offered him the title and role protector of these mythical dragon balls and their class.

"As such, the Namekian people had been spared their existence but not their dignity, and Zalama came to be wiped from their documented history, forever left to linger in legend only."

"So… is he real?"

Doctor Jivel smiles knowingly. "Of course. The super dragon balls would not exist without him, nor would any of their children sets; one of the sets being the bastardized rendition of the Namekian dragon balls, and another…"

"Earth's."

"Zalama's might lives on in only select Namekians but it still lives. The fact that Earth or any of the other planets harbouring a Namekian clan can harness such power attests to that." He gives Goten a firm pat on the leg and then gestures to the sketch. "Now, what you must know about the diluted dragon here is that, whilst powerful, he is but the watery off-spring of Zalama. To understand true strength, one should appreciate what the super dragon balls could really do. For one, they can never be so simply destroyed as the others now have been."

Goten's breath catches. "You know about that, huh?"

"It comes with my role to understand the… political situation of those I serve."

"My brother, you mean."

"…Yes, I'm talking about him."

Good God, it's nice to hear admittance. "What does Gohan have to do with the super dragon balls? With Zalama? With any of this? He's just… I don't know, I thought he was…"

There's a hush of rain battering leaves. It's picking up. Goten feels the chill of wind.

"Gohan," the doctor says, deliberately, "Was placed in my care when he first came to the Realm of the Almighty. You know, Goten, he wasn't much different from you, curious to no end, understanding so little. He'd likely be embarrassed to admit such things now, of course, but he'd been just as startling green as yourself and so very, very young. He'd wanted to go back to planet Earth the instant his eyes opened, he'd pestered me and the other doctors as incessantly as you do to reveal what little we know, and that is not as much as you're led to believe. And my, oh my, how he'd talked. I'd come to learn about you, your mother and your father, and Piccolo the namekian; truly, he revealed all in a way he would never now.

"I regularly work with him, even now. He's a good person despite how he's been acting as of late." The doctor folds his hands over one another and looks into the distance, at something Goten cannot see. "I'd worked with him even before he came here, for a long, long time before actually. I'm fond of him, more so now than before."

"But that makes no sense."

"Goten, I just want you to know that your brother is fine. He is well taken care of. When you do go back to Earth, I hope you… remember as much. I understand that you must have had a difficult time, worrying about him."

He has. He really has.

Doctor Jivel corrects his glasses and smiles, tired. "But Gohan is an adult and he will lead himself and those around him down the path he so chooses. I know you want to understand more and I can see how desperate you are for his acknowledgement right now, but the situation is… complicated. He is… a man of standing."

"A lord?"

"Yes."

"Lord Mori?"

"Yes."

"What does that even mean?"

"You are not a fool, Goten. Think about it."

Goten doesn't. Instead, his head throbs with the lot of it. "I don't want to leave him," he manages through the constriction. "He's my brother."

"Letting go does not mean loving less."

Well, that could have fooled him with how Gohan acted the other day. The asshole hadn't let him answer anything – he'd just ranted at Goten, he'd vetoed everything he'd… Ugh! How could he be so cold? Goten had come for him. Goten had been worried!

"Drink your chocolate, Goten," the doctor then says with a sense of finality. He stands, pushing himself up shakily and grunting as he does so. "And have a think over what we spoke about. For tomorrow, your brother will be here to enact the confidentiality review."

It's a slap. Tomorrow, Gohan will be here and be readying him for Earth – he's going to ship him off. Goten will be sent back to Earth and all this will have meant nothing. No, no, he'll tell Gohan what for. He'll get his answers even if he has to swallow that stupid orb again.

Around, drop by drop, the rain finally eases into a tentative drizzle. If Goten looks carefully enough, he can see a flicker of gold, the possible ray of heat, or something else. He cannot be too sure whether he's happy or not to see it.

That night, Goten barely catches a wink of sleep, one small part being because of the twining anxiety snaking around his brain, but mostly, it's because of the explosion several floors down.

Another roar soon rips, wild, as the building creaks when flooding with cladding, thick smoke below.

A scream sounds out, far away.

It takes a hard moment for his brain to register that something is afoot. He's barely operating until his head rattles from the high-pitched sirens squawking overhead. It's a disco of mayhem. Colour viciously strikes; even above his bed, orange and red flashes interchange in manic rhythm to the mechanical wailing. Goten thrusts free in nothing but his pyjamas.

The floor rasps at first and then grumbles. Several smaller explosions are heard – and more importantly, felt – knocking him askew and having him ensnared by the curtain. He catches himself and makes his way towards his door where he spots a handful of medical personnel sprinting past. They shout amongst one another over the alarms, paying no mind to Goten and thus giving him opportunity to run opposite and along to the stairwell.

What the heck is happening? Banging? Explosions?

A chorus of nearby cries fill him with dread.

He passes yet more workers. They're frenzied; running, crying, hiding. One tries to pull him along to a nearby room but Goten, whilst weakened, is still stronger and manages to barrage his way down flight after flight. He'd rather take his own chances at this rate. Holing himself up in a room this high won't do him any favours. There's a moment where he wonders what floor the original explosion had happened on, but luckily, or rather unluckily, yet another series of angry fireworks follow on this very floor.

He does… kind of want to see what's happening. The noises loudly beckon him, testing his apprehension, glowing bright behind the glass door upon further inspection.

This is a bad idea.

Yet… He swivels. The surroundings are flashes of orange and red. This is the only way to go…

Smoke swarms him the moment he enters the hallway.

Goten doesn't know where he's going but he doesn't want to hang about – he needs an exit. He can't fight. Gohan had told him as much.

"Goten, you won't ever fight again."

God, he doesn't want to think about that now!

He needs out… He needs… a route…

Nothing…

Whilst going out of the window would have been an option any other time, his room had been long locked after Goten had joked about flying out of it to explore. How he hates his mouth. Actually, he's not seen another one since. What the hell kind of labyrinth is this?

On the other hand, he could try to punch his way through the density of the building, though something tells Goten that it's likely made of something more durable than concrete or the like. That and bringing it down could collapse the entire structure. He doesn't want to do that. There are people in here, good people like Doctor Jivel and Doctor Yuluk… He wants to help them.

Well, can he – in his current state?

A wall of particularly dense smoke initially stops him but he pushes on; his pyjama top makes an acceptable facemask. He bends blindly around a corner, acting with stealth to be proud of before continuing on into the next bout of detonations.

Hot yellow flashes. Goten slips back, caught off-guard and a spectrum of voices call out overhead.

Goten understands none of it of course. Foreign demands, shouting; it echoes throughout the hallways as more ki rains in pocked sized explosions. It's bright one moment, black the next, and then red and orange in between courtesy of the alarm system.

Burning – Goten smells it, stark and like overcooked flesh; he knows it well. When another yellow blast spirals his way, he slips back around the corner from whence he came, hissing when the attack catches his arm and sizzles nastily. It cooks, and Goten breathes through clenched teeth. Copper pools.

There must be more than a dozen men. He hadn't seen much through the smoke and he can't sense ki here at all, but from the clambering of boots against the marble, Goten knows himself to be outnumbered.

One of the fighters shouts louder than the rest. He's brash, the direction of the group. Goten can't see him but assumes him to be the one in charge.

Another explosion soon blows its way through at least two walls, killing the alarms in the process. The lights die. It's a small mercy when the screaming stops yet it comes with a price; dust intermingles with the smoke, and ashy debris splashes forth. The dark wave slashes at Goten, reminding him to keep his pyjama top high above his nose.

He takes another step back, and then another when he hears the encroaching boots. When he's backed against the wall he fumbles for the nearest door, jostling the knob, pulling, shaking it, trying it to no luck, and then, ultimately, panicking upon realizing the problem. Below, sits the burnt meat he'd just earlier smelt. It's a doctor; a person – or rather, it had been – with eyes closed and mouth wide, Goten's head spins with fear.

It instantly takes him back to Hell. He remembers the floor people, the river, Haed, Gohan –

He splutters into his top.

There's not much time.

I… I can't do this now.

He kicks the body aside and pulls the door once more. This time, it opens obediently and Goten slips into the adjoining, dark room on the other side.

A breath of relief follows.

He assesses the damage.

His arm aches but it's not a life-threatening wound.

Then again, what would he know? He'd just swallowed a cursed orb sometime over a week ago so he's hardly worth asking. The grazing throbs, burning to the touch and presumably bright pink within the confines of seared pyjamas. That will have to remain a problem later however…

Footsteps pass by the door.

Just who are those guys?

Are they after Gohan?

Goten swallows.

Are they after me?

They can't be the Zealites because those guys work for Gohan, and Gohan is the one who stuffed him into this place with the aim in keeping him locked up until, well, until he's ready to ship Goten back to Earth. Is that what these guys are here for? Did someone send them to get Goten?

But Gohan said that he'd been keeping Dad and everyone updated about me. He said they knew I was safe.

Yes, but he also lied about, well, pretty much everything else.

When another outburst sounds and a man cries out down the hall, wet, Goten realizes that he couldn't have picked a worse time to doubt Gohan's motives. He flattens himself against the wall. His chest stills.

The knob on the door twitches. Goten watches it shake left and then right.

It stops.

The world behind erupts and a hand plummets through the wall. It strikes at Goten, catching him by the nape of his neck and sending him sprawling to the floor. The smoke follows, distributing into a dark puddle around Goten like an unnerving ocean. At first, he really does think it's the work of the Zealites. Smoke is their MO, after all. The thought withers when he hears the knowing crackle of a nearby fire. Heat soon crawls along the wall, kissing out, reaching him along with raining debris from the wall.

The assailant enters the room through of the hole he'd just created, breaking it wider as he goes, despite there being a very good door right beside him.

His attacker halts.

"Oh."

Oh, indeed!

Goten recognizes him. Goten knows this person!

"B-Brutil," he breathes.

"You are the second son," Brutil says, "Goku Son's second boy."

"That's right. Goten," he reminds, collecting himself from the floor. There are no further injuries despite the splitting headache. "We met on Earth. You remember, right? Are you here for me, to take me back?"

Brutil doesn't reply instantly. The cogs about his brain clamber. A step closer is taken, crunching crumbled wall underfoot, making, for some reason, Goten's body retreat on instinct. "I assumed you dead," the kai warrior says, "I'm surprised to see you so sprightly after your ordeal with the Zealites."

Goten's back grazes a potted plant. He stumbles. "Well, these guys here helped me."

"The gods?"

"No, uh, the hospital workers. They're good, so, I uh don't think you should be hurting them."

"Goten Son," Brutil chides, "The Gods of Revelation rule over this dominion and these people serve them loyally. As I serve the Council and my distinguished people, these hospital workers work in the name of Revelation and as its subjects, they should face the wrath of what their lords have committed; penance for what Lord Quell and his ilk exacted in the Kai Chamber."

"But these guys didn't do anything!"

"It's war," Brutil stresses, "Foolish boy. Your father at least sees some sense in that."

"My father?"

"Goku Son is a strong warrior so it turns out. He's determined to face down the injustices of what the Gods of Revelation have strived for!" Brutil grins, just about visible in the dimness, as he reaches into his pocket. "And with this, the Orb of Permanence, havoc shall be brought upon those dastardly beings and the heretics that trail after them."

Goten watches the ball roll between finger and thumb. This is what they came for; the orb.

"You didn't come for me," he realizes. His chest aches. After all the heartbreak his dad had suffered with Gohan, did he not… feel the same way for him? Did he know that Brutil was coming here? "Does my dad… not…?"

There's sigh. "Kid, it is not personal. I told Goku Son that whatever pictures scraps of you they'd been sending his way must be fake, but, I cannot deny that looking at you that you are in a better place than expected. Still, I told him that if I found you that I would let him know. He'd wanted to attend until Lord Beerus had asked him to await the fruits of my labours."

Goten nods, numb. That's something at least.

"Though," Brutil continues, "I have liked his energy as of recent. He's passionate. Lord Beerus too likes him. The Supreme Kai, wherever Lord Quell has him now, likes him, also. Goku Son is useful… More so…" There's a pause. The kai looks over Goten with a darkened hunger about him. "More so with something to fight for… The other son is dead, and then this one; Goku's last child still remains, but for how long? What would such a death do to a man already so on the edge? How would that fuel a person?"

Limbs turn to ice. What… is he saying?

"Brutil?"

"I fear that you would continue to be a distraction." An advancing step draws him ever closer to Goten. "He could be great. He could be an asset to the cause."

"My dad is already helping you!" Panic wells up. There's nowhere to retreat to. "He's always helped the kais!"

"And he'll continue to once I return and tell him of how I found your body. I'll tell him that at least it had been fast but he'll anger nonetheless. We'll equip that anger and take vengeance against those who murdered my brothers and sisters! The other Earthlings hold him back – they won't hold him back from justice any longer!"

Goten scrambles, heart in his mouth. He tries to break free, clambering under a table and then past a wheelie chair. It's a pathetic display. The recycling bin catches his foot, sending him into a spin and directly into Brutil's grasp.

"Please!"

"I'll make it fast," the kai says, magnanimous enough to at least sound somewhat sorry. "I take no pleasure in hurting a mortal child, and less in harming the psyche of a warrior, yet what must be done must be done."

Rough fingers take Goten by the collarbone, struggling to keep him in clasp with the teenager's sweaty, ashy skin making him particularly difficult to keep still. Brutil wants to break his neck. Goten knows the move. He's seen it before, on TV and the Internet, and so he kicks out, flinching, spitting, hitting – he makes himself the most challenging victim imaginable.

"I'll tell! Even if I'm dead then I'll make sure my dad knows what really happened!"

Brutil gets sick of his backchat, slapping him hard. "Then I'll organize you to be sent to the void with your pathetic brother. Let's see you talk then. You will not get in the way of this vengeance!"

His brother…

Goten can't recall how many times now that he's been held at ransom like this, how many times the bad guys dangle him high, all he knows is that each time he's saved, he's thankful. He's relieved and thankful and it never gets old.

He prays for his brother to miraculously show up. Goten has no idea if Gohan can hold a candle to this guy. Actually, Goten has no idea how strong Gohan even is these days. Lord Mori… Gohan… Lord Mori… Just who Gohan is seems to be little difference to these people here – should Goten think like that, too? Lord Mori is a god, right? Does that mean… Gohan, too, is a…?

Then he should save him. This is Gohan's mess, right?

Goten swallows. He can't die like this.

He screams as loud as he can. This place is special; ki cannot be sensed but that doesn't mean ears cannot hear. Someone must be here to help. Are the gods really going to let this happen on their watch?

Brutil is furious at such an action. He clenches tighter – too tight – and so Goten actually slips through his fingers, sweat lubricating him to freedom, before then managing to weave through the generous hole centre of the wall. Sparks of dancing wires snap at him as he goes but he cleanly escapes, darting back down the hallway and then sprinting left upon noticing a huddle of kais. He looks for another room – one with a window he can jump through – but either every stupid room on this floor is windowless or the world hates him!

Corpses pile the walkway. He has to jump several, apologize to one when he falls into it, and closes his eyes when he recognizes one of the young nurses who would bring him chopped fruit in the mornings.

A double set of doors mark his destination the moment he sees them. There's a sign overhead. It would be recognized as an emergency exit sign if he was on Earth. Here? He has no idea but he's got nothing left to lose.

Just as the handle comes into reach, several more explosions sound. Heat courses from behind. From the momentum, Goten takes to the air, strikes the ceiling and then the floor. Fiery ki erupts towards him, channelled from behind.

"Don't be selfish, Goten!" snarls Brutil. "Accept this like a man! Accept this for the greater good!"

Goten flips onto his back, kicking back; edging towards the door. He's so close.

Brutil is enraged. His face glows red behind a sneer, his hand clenches around his next attack – something tells Goten that this one won't miss. Strutting forward, Brutil's huge body sways from side to side with such vigour that there's surprise the entire building is rocking.

Gohan… Dad…

Goten squeezes eyes shut, still pushing back.

Please…

And then he feels it; the door. He doesn't reach it. It reaches him.

It lunges open, hammering Goten. It alarmingly sends him skidding in the direction of Brutil yet he doesn't have time to react – neither of them do – because from the entryway, the woman, Roarg, charges in and engages Brutil with the deepest gut punch Goten's ever witnessed. There's crunching, spluttering. Bile instantly pours from the kai's mouth.

Goten can only watch, his heart beating once more. His breathing is erratic.

God, it's so good to see this angry, terrifying woman.

"Get up," she tells him, turning to him, "We must go."

Brutil is quicker to recover than anticipated. She may have caught him off-guard but he's no pushover and is already pulling himself together. He lumbers up, leaning. There's a line of drool connecting his mouth to the floor, and one of his eyes is completely bloodshot. A vessel must have burst.

"G-Goten!" he spits, "Think of what's right!"

He's standing to full attention now, and an orchestra of boots can be heard stampeding down the hallway.

"Let's go!" Roarg orders. Goten can barely move in time – she scoops him up off the floor and drags him out of the door from which she just came from.

Brutil is behind them and he's fast. Lucky for them, however, is the hoard of armour-clad soldiers that meet him in opposition. They are not kai warriors and they're not Zealites. Comparing the armour to what Roarg's wearing he assumes them to be hers – she's a captain, right?

"Goten!" Goten hears Brutil shout from beyond the mass of people. "GOTEN!"

"Close your eyes," she tells him.

But he doesn't want to. Goten's already seen so much. She shifts him as to carry him on her back, and he witnesses the carnage that unfolded here. Dead lie without dignity; patients and workers alike, all innocent. Hisses of electricity spit from the walls. He can tell even in the ambiguity of night that so much has been destroyed. Rubble and bodies are rife.

"Why did they…?" he asks, "I… I… Gohan? Where's Gohan? Can't he do something? They're killing people!"

She doesn't answer, instead launching them down a set of stairs and down into what must be a foyer of some kind. A reception desk lies in ruins. Cracked marble and stone and whatever else form a minefield of destruction, sofas are scorched and the windows are smashed completely. Moonlight dyes the dismal state of affairs a cool blue.

Wait… windows!

And Roarg recognizes their importance too for she runs forward, crashing through them. The air takes her and drops them at least four or five stories, all in watch of that large moon that stills in the sky. Everything grows momentarily quiet. Goten feels as if they'd been falling for eternity.

She eventually lands, hitting pavement, skidding out, where several other soldiers run to meet them. They must be hers too because there's no hostility. Using Lanit-Tongue, she must have commanded them to move away because they do. As they go she continues to bark her orders. All abide, disappearing in varying direction. Goten watches as a good portion of men scurry into the building. She meanwhile takes him elsewhere, away.

Is he safe?

He… feels safe.

They walk. It's all too quiet and then also not quiet enough; the ringing in his ears is deafening.

"Thank you," he soon says, truly meaning it. She hates him but… if she hadn't come in, then… He shivers. Brutil had seemed so deranged, so lost to himself. "You saved me… like you did my dad last time."

Roarg shuffles him higher. They walk away from the smoking Spire and from the fire and the screaming. The fight is still on-going but definitely dying. Orange licks into the deep blue of the night. Goten watches as it tries to reach the moon he'd just touched.

How close it'd come.

Eventually, they reach a point where Roarg assesses it safe enough to dislodge him. She shuffles him down against a foliage-lined wall. Flowers kiss him in greeting.

"Are you hurt?" she asks.

He raises his arm and she inspects it. "It'll blister but nothing more. How about your head? Did you take a hit?"

"A-A bit."

To his shock, she closes her eyes and laughs breathily. "I was about to say that I will have a doctor look you over however…"

Behind, the Spire groans. The fire continues to nourish itself. An entire segment collapses.

Doctor Jivel, Doctor Yuluk… everyone else… his birds… are they okay?

"That's… not funny," Goten mutters.

"I know it's not."

She turns and looks at the building, the glow illuminating distant sadness. If he himself wasn't feeling it then he'd likely struggle recognizing the blue in her.

"It's war," Brutil had said.

War…

War or not, there's no excuse in targeting a hospital regardless of what's there. Sure, the kais now have the orb but at what cost? Goten knows for a fact that little kids had been staying at the Spire. What are their lives worth in the end? Or rather, from looking at the chaos enacted, what had been their worth?

He can't imagine many made it out. How about those people he saw on the stairwell? Did they get out?

Goten did because of this person.

"Hey, uh." He feels the need to tell her, as thanks for his life. "They took the orb, the one I ate. Brutil showed it to me so for sure they have it. I'm sorry."

"Yes. We imagined as much."

"So… What now?" He shrugs at her when she doesn't answer. "What?" After all that, she's just going to stand here and let Brutil go? The guy has just blown a hospital to smithereens! "So, go get it! You just completely winded that asshole, Brutil. You can definitely take him! I – look, there are doctors in there – good people, people who need help and you –!"

Roarg's face breaks into a tired smile, a sight rare. It softens her. "You are a good child and you've done nothing wrong."

"…Ah? What's that got to do with –? Look, go! You can go now!"

"I'm saying this for you to appreciate at a later date. Do not feel guilt for surviving this. And… I cannot go right now, as you are definitely more valuable than the orb." His mouth drops, rage floods his stomach.

"Do not be angry with yourself for nothing you could have done would have changed tonight's events."

"I don't need protection!" He tries to shove her away. It's like pushing against a boulder. "Go! Brutil will get away!"

"He's most certainly long gone."

"Gohan! Where's Gohan? He needs – Oh, ah."

His words die when he sees another figure he recognizes. Stark against the brightness, the saturated, broad figure, clad in umber, stands boldly before the two. He's little more than a silhouette, barely coloured at all in thanks to nightfall. However, Goten will never forget his eyes, the mask, the visage burned into his nightmares as the perpetrator who extinguished the life from his brother.

Lord Rixas speaks to his captain in Lanit-Tongue, and Roarg replies in such. When the bastard approaches, Goten forgets that Gohan is fine, that he's alive and well and breathing somewhere. This person hadn't really done that damage Goten had thought he had.

Still, Goten wants strangle him.

The, well damn, the god kneels beside him and leans in for a closer look.

The empty gaze of the mask petrifies him. He's but a statue.

Worse yet, Goten's chest threatens to burst when he takes Goten's chin – a watered down parody of what had happened on Earth – and twists it, gentler this time at least. Goten tries to speak but he can't. From one lion's jaw to another, he'd only jumped from Brutil's plate to Rixas'.

"Do not be rash, Goten," Roarg warns.

He presses his eyes closed and sees, over and over, the moment where Gohan had dropped to the floor, lifeless.

"My lord, I shall see to my men."

Rixas releases Goten's chin and waves her away.

She then – to Goten' horror – gives a final bow to Rixas before disappearing into the growing crowds encircling the hospital. How can she leave him now?

Goten catches his breath, just to hiccough and squeak. Wetness builds in the corners of his eyes. What the heck? Why's he crying?

"G-Gohan," he demands pitifully.

The mask tilts, the gold hidden in the eyes of the guise disappear to reappear after a moment, and then… a hand lifts, not to strangle Goten, but to pass over the mask and release it from its existence. The red and white fade into nothing, and what was once the hard shell of material glows in the moonlight.

It highlights a soft tan, a bounce of blonde hair and wide, golden shaded almonds. The Rixas behind the mask looks nothing as imagined. Instead of the brutish, bulging, veiny-necked monster, Goten is left faced with someone about as fresh faced as he is.

There's an unsure grin. "I'm sorry for before," Rixas finally says, "I have… a bad temper."

There's dissonance. It doesn't connect. Goten can't understand.

Why is there a surfer boy staring at me?

This is supposed to be, what, the God of War?

"You do look like him, you know." The lord hums. "I'd thought so the first time, too…"

The memory of the beast containing him in the blizzard resurfaces, the death grip, and the gentle one from just moments before…

Lord Quell, Lord Rixas and Lord Mori (The latter otherwise known as Gohan)... These are…

"You're the God of Revelation, right?" Goten manages, "You, Lord Quell and… the last one…? What's the name of the last one?"

"Ah." Rixas appears contemplative, tapping his fingers along his own knees. "I, uh… I don't know what to say here because Mori never gave me the run down on how things would work with you should we ever cross paths, but I have a feeling that I shouldn't be answering your questions." There's a long breath. "I suppose you know as much, though, considering all that happened on Earth and whatever… Still, I'm not going to—"

When he goes to stand, Goten takes a hold of him, dragging him a breath's inch away. "No, you can tell me. I deserve to know. You owe me."

Rixas blinks.

"Please."

Behind, more of the Spire collapses; floors upon floors of it. The sound is catastrophic. Dust clouds pour, sweeping the pavement and roads as though a dam had been broken. Barriers of magical light emerge from all around. Incantations sound. So much of the debris flies overhead.

Magic, he realizes. The people around are protecting one another.

Rixas doesn't look away from him. "Fine, because I did give you a bad time on Earth I'll say what I think I can without Mori chewing me out."

That's Gohan…

Is Rixas scared of him? What's with that tone?

Another crash sounds in the distance.

"There's me, Quell and Mori: Gods of Revelation. There had been Famis but he died quite a while back now. As you would have guessed, your Gohan and our Mori are, well…" He coughs. "One in the same, I guess? I mean, you'd have guessed this much, right?" His hand rises and unhooks each of Goten's fingers from his cloak. "Look, you've gotta' know, that I'm actually trying to be a good boy at the moment, so you'll have to excuse me for not playing Q&A with you. I mean, even if you're one of the most adorable things I've ever seen in my entire life."

Goten ignores the last comment. "Gohan… is a god, then? So, that's what you're saying?"

Rixas raises a brow.

"What I'm saying that actually, with looking at your eyes, I think you may have a concussion. They're a bit droopy." Rixas tilts Goten's head back, definitely not as lightly as before. "Do you feel sick? Nauseous?"

"I do now. Don't avoid—"

"Ah, well…" Rixas lets go and turns his attention back to the destruction. "Then, let's hope that Doctor Jivel made it out of… that." His tone is sombre. Like Roarg, his features sink in witness of the attack, the burning reflected in eyes about as prominently bright.

Like Gohan, he's almost too much to look at dead on.

The eyes of a god….

He'd heard that before, on Earth.

Goten wants to ask more, he wants to squeeze Rixas for all the information he's worth, he wants to distract himself from the continuation of horror he's thrust himself into, but most importantly… he wants to see his brother.

"Gohan's a god," he breathes below the fire's crackle, "That's what Doctor Jivel had tried to tell me… And… the gods are fighting the kais and… and where does that leave Earth and Gohan…? Brutil, he…"

Rixas reaches out. Goten flinches on instinct but for naught, as the gentle ruffle of the hair feels nice after so long of nobody doing it. "Kid, you're thinking too much. When it comes to… your brother then let me tell you from experience; there's no knowing what goes on in that head of his until it all unfolds."

That's not exactly reassuring.

Rixas slaps his knees, standing tall before then offering a hand out. "Come on. Let's get going, then. There's no use in lingering, is there?"

Goten stiffens. The hand snatches up his own. "What?"

"I don't think we can send you back to Earth right now, you have to understand. The kais blew it, quite literally."

"So where are we going?"

Goten is hauled up.

"To the estate."

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I had a bit of a rest after the last chapter but I'm back and ready to churn some more bad boys out! So desperately I want be done with these next few chapters, especially as we creep ever closer to some of those BIG points. 37 is going to be... Ugh. It's going to be a pain to write. 36 should be out in relative speed but 37 will likely take a little longer so please bear with me! Since last updating, I've had some absolutely lovely comments. Thank you so very much! I'm touched. There's a lot of thought and love put into this story not just by me but also by Kags (Who also beta'd this chapter - thanks, love!) and a couple other friends. Reviewers, too, really have an impact because I can lean into those moments they really like as I go. So yeah, cheers for the support. Let's get this story to the end so I can start writing "32" again!

Hohohoho... so many readers caught the mirror of Gohan and Quell's hospital scene (From an earlier chapter) compared to Goten and Gohan's recent one. Nice *finger gun* Also last chapter, a lot of readers noticed that Gohan was indeed a right tosser. He was but I hope we have some context here in this chapter as to why. As you have likely guessed, Gohan is taking quite a dark turn in this fic. I'm not going to spoon feed you because I know you're no dummy but I want to say for clarity's sake that going forward, decisions, actions and of the like will be that of strained characters. I'm limited because I only write from three POVs (Except on for Intermissions) so don't take anything at face value because of the character's perception.

*Slaps knees*
Well, I'm off. As always, thanks for your continuing support. PMs and reviews have been and would be delightful. Finally, Rixas and Goten have interacted beyond some spicy trauma play so that's nice. Brutil... less nice. I hope to hear from ya. Catch you on the next!