The Horse with No Name
Chapter Forty-Eight
Watering Scorched Earth
"Whoa!"
Goku's head swivels. His heart thunders in his chest.
No way. There's no way he felt what he think he just felt.
But there isn't the time to process the situation. He's surrounded. Three fighters remain – reinforcements called by the main Zealite – and whilst they're not strong, they're tricky. The main Zealite escaped not long ago and just as Goku was about to make chase, a ridiculous amount of these guys came out of the woodwork. Some were clones of the main guy, but Goku's put down some real people too, ones who grunt and cry and flail when hitting the dirt. Gosh, he hopes they're not dead.
It's a real concern when he kicks one coming at him. This Zealite hits the ground so ferociously that a cloud of dust returns hotly, blasting up, knocking the two others off balance and making them easier pickings to send off as well. Goku buries a fist into one and then spiral kicks the last.
Both plummet in opposite directions and finally Goku is able to deal with what he just sensed.
Piccolo – particularly bloodied – emerges upwards, a Zealite falling wayside, and floats to Goku's right.
"We… We need to go, if Vegeta—"
"Trunks."
"I can't feel him," Piccolo whispers.
Goku hadn't been able to only until recently. He'd been hiding with Vegeta so it'd been normal not to feel anything – but then, a spike, Vegeta's power and then Gohan's… and now… Trunks. Where's Trunks' energy?
The cast of faraway light brightens the skyline into momentary daylight; all else halts as the flare stings the two into submission, forcing them to shield their eyes and avert from Rixas and Quell's altercation. Thank God they're in space. Rixas must've been thinking of Earth. Still, the aftershocks reach them. The planet rumbles with frustration and the air grows thinner. Rain halts.
Piccolo splutters from the deep, gut wrenching shock of it. Quell's ki is ever crippling. Even miles and miles away, the personality of it strangles the sway of battle here – Piccolo has to steady himself by taking Goku's shoulder, and Goku has to steady them both.
And then, it's dark again. Rain is liberated.
So suddenly, the hush of it is too loud and Goku's reminded of the situation.
Piccolo's already holding him so it's easy enough to use Instant Transmission. He aims for Vegeta. His energy is loud. It's hot and smoking and… and violently painful to latch onto, like holding a cup of boiling water for too long.
They arrive just in time to see Gohan dispel Vegeta across the skyline. Mid-air, Goku has to pull Piccolo back to avoid being struck by Vegeta roiling past, the speed of it dragging, the air around bending with him, the hum loud.
Somewhere beyond, Vegeta will strike upon the ground with an immeasurable impact, and with the state he's in it might be enough to finish the job.
He gestures Piccolo away. "You need to take him to find Kibi—"
"No. Gohan… he's…"
Goku doesn't want to look.
He does anyway; hoping, God, hoping what he felt wasn't right, but by all accounts it must be because there's something changed about Gohan. He hovers there, still like a cadaver, white and empty eyed with a naked horror translating ingression. It's the easiest Goku's been able to read him in weeks.
The Z Sword is ominously red.
Piccolo shirks Goku away. "You didn't," he penalizes, "Gohan, what happened?!"
Goku looks between Gohan and the sword, lost. His breath is vacuumed.
Gold blinks slowly, eyelashes cement. Whatever Gohan's seeing isn't for them. The effect has Piccolo retreat several paces back, his hand rises in guard; Goku is ice behind it. A strange energy emits from Gohan, building like steam above, climbing – scalding. It's laminar, a mirage perhaps. Goku waits for the kettle to boil over.
It never does.
Whatever inner battle Gohan was waging is now over. The gold clouds once more and the storm rages on.
Goku finds his voice. "What did you do? Gohan—"
The Zealite found his way back, Goku notices. He appears at Gohan's side with the –!
Piccolo jostles. Goku gawps, "What did you DO?!"
The dragon ball – the final one, the six-star – is there. It's right there! Vegeta gave it up- why would he do that? What did Gohan do? What did he do to Trunks?
A fire lights within his chest. It reignites him, thrusting him forward in reach for the ball, but Gohan's unreasonably fast – he doesn't go for the ball, instead reappearing before Goku, raising a palm and striking hard against cartilage. Goku's nose crunches.
He groans into a flood of blood.
And Gohan takes his ball.
Through the blur of gore, Goku watches as his son, sword in one hand and dragon ball in the other, disappear alongside the Zealite.
Goku tries to feel for him but Gohan's long gone. He's left Earth. He must be going to get the rest of the balls – he has all seven now – he's going to make his wish. They need to follow him. They need to go – now, they can't just…
His throat hitches.
Piccolo hovers back to him, no longer alone. In his arms, Trunks lies sprawled out like a rag doll, one arm reaching limply, mouth drooping.
Blue eyes are listless, though not entirely faded.
He's alive.
God. He's still with them.
Gohan isn't a murderer.
Goku breathes a laugh, nervous. All they need is Kibito. He can help Trunks, he can heal him and then Goku'll take him home and – and… Piccolo sees his excitement and snuffs it. His head shakes softly and his hand leaves the gurgling wound streaked across Trunks' torso. He motions to land on a nearby hill, holding Trunks across bowed knees once they land.
Goku lands gingerly. His toes are numb.
No, they can heal him. He just needs to feel for Kibito and – okay, he can't feel him, that's fine – he can ask Rixas. The Amber Salve has saved Goku many a time—
Trunks splutters a glob of bright red, and doesn't move when he chokes on it.
The salve definitely won't cut it.
A whine threatens in Goku's throat. Come on. Damn it. He desperately reaches out for Kibito again and again. Nothing. He can't feel the guy anywhere, Shin neither! Why are they hiding? Goku said he needed them!
"Goku…" Piccolo signals him to sit down. He wants him there as Trunks dies. To comfort him.
Trunks accepts Goku's hand in his own, though it's not like he can reject it. There's no returned squeeze. It's like holding an ice-cube, one that's melting way.
"You've got this," Goku says, trying to sound firm and in control, "If anything happens to you then your dad'll kill me. Heh…"
Trunks' head twitches.
"It's a paper-cut. Honest." Goku jokes because he knows Trunks would enjoy that. He lets loose a wobbled laugh, the little remaining confidence dwindling as he watches a lone tear cut through the grime defacing Trunks' cheek. "C'mon, Trunks, you've gotta' be strong."
"You did well today," Piccolo adds kindly. "You're stronger than I remember."
"For sure," Goku agrees.
"I'm impressed considering you've been a layabout for years." There's a smirk. "You—"
"MOVE IT!"
Vegeta has made it to them. Thank God. He's – gosh – he's a walking corpse, looking only marginally better than Trunks, so bloodied and marred and horrific, but here at least. He's hurled Goku away and taken his spot at Trunks' side, unabashedly taking his son's hand, shouting demands at him. Begging him. Yelling.
Goku stands, suddenly dizzy.
Why, Gohan? Why?! How—
It's a good thing Goku stood up. It's only half a moment following that the sky cuts in two with Rixas coursing right in their direction. He's falling. It's so rapid that Goku barely reacts in time to protect the group; his hands seemingly have a mind of their own, already having thrown up a barrier of energy to propel Rixas away before he can register to do such a thing. Rixas bounces, challenging Goku's footing, and then the hold of the ki, before falling against the clumped dirt of the hilltop.
Piccolo is already helping him up before the energy fades.
"Ged'off!" Rixas snaps, shoving Piccolo free, just in time for them to break apart in place of where a ki blast strikes.
Steam from the rain hisses, and the ground blisters, charred.
Quell lands with grace.
He's definitely more battered than when Goku last saw him, with him now sporting especially tender looking cuts and bruises along the face. His robes are ruined, his hair even worse. There's a storybook of blood streaks running down his arms, with matching wounds spoiling Rixas' body. Several twinned burns dart alongside both of them for good measure.
Though, Rixas definitely is the one losing. If Quell looks messy then Rixas looks done.
He collapses onto one knee, panting.
Before Quell can get the next move in, Goku's in front of him. His arms stretch out.
"He's gone," he snaps, "Gohan's finished so there's nothing left for you here! Just go!"
Quell halts, his boot scraping barely a foot away. There's a pause, surprise even, and then a deeply cutting smirk that Goku wants to bury.
"Oh, did he wrangle the ball from you?" Quell taunts.
Rixas stands, tripping on his own exhaustion as he does. "N-No? What? Vegeta! You—"
"Then we are done!" Quell hisses at him, "What use is crying over spilled milk, brother? Why bother now that Mori is nearly complete in his ambition?"
"It's the principle!"
The response is in Lanit-Tongue, though Goku doesn't care about hearing it. He's sick of it. He's sick of it all. Trunks is dying and all these people care about are their stupid beliefs! They're supposed to be gods, right? They're supposed to be helping people – not wrecking planets and fighting so, so selfishly! People live here! People are suffering!
Why are they arguing? Still?
The Kai have done nothing. Everyone is playing a game or talking in circles or lying and cheating and… and…
Gohan – he – he…. He's killing people! He's murdering! He's absolving himself of evil just to serve his own beliefs!
That's not his son.
Gohan wouldn't – why has be become this? The system – the corrupt bedlam – has ruined him, it's turned him to this – it's… Goku doesn't know. He doesn't understand.
Goku claps his own head, groaning.
"Argh! Be QUIET!"
A jet of energy dispels. It's not strong but it's enough to get attention.
Quell drops Rixas, who he had by the back of his hair, and saunters in direction of the latest challenge.
"Something is broken," Goku begins, "Something is broken in Gohan. If you think he'll be able to live with himself after all this then you're wrong. Whatever is controlling him now and making him act like this, that'll come to an end. That'll end and he'll be stuck with himself and all that he's done."
Quell is amused at the prospect. "You think he'll feel guilt for his heavy handedness after all this? Please, Mori has shed more blood than even you can understand. He—"
"Mori isn't like you," Rixas interrupts, "Or me, or even Famis."
"After Revelation, Gohan'll recognize what he's done," Goku assures, fierce, "To everyone. To his friends and family here. What he's done to Trunks will kill him."
Rixas looks over to where Goku's gesturing. "Trunks? O-Oh, shit!"
He dashes over, stumbling into a fall beside the kid, his fight with his brother forgotten. Amber Salve emerges. Goku feels his throat wobble – it's not going to work.
Deep breath.
He steels himself under Quell's scrutiny.
Though, there's curiousity there. Quell's gaze trails in following of his brother, to the father and son clustered in the damp filth.
"Trunks is dying," Goku says, voice straining, "And Gohan did that. My son… he…" His throat needs clearing, his head hurts – his eyes are hot. "Gohan… He… There's something wrong with him. He'd never have hurt Trunks. He'd loved him. He… They grew up together."
Quell stares at the huddle. "A child…"
"Yes, Trunks is a child."
The rain continues between them, a breeze follows and in that time Quell doesn't move against them. Vegeta is shouting at Rixas to move away. Goku doesn't know why Rixas is still bothering with the salve; it won't do anything, not now, it's too late, even Vegeta knows.
"Let me at least try," Rixas growls, smearing the tube of white over fiery skin. Trunks isn't reacting. His light is dwindling to blackened coal. "C'mon, Middle-Parting, this ain't how you go."
Vegeta is past breaking point. It's all too much. He stands, pushing the body away as though repulsed by it; his expression is unreadable and his strides are long as he disappears into the rainfall.
"Don't you dare, Vegeta!"
Piccolo is after him, and Goku is frozen under the sheets of rain.
Rixas meanwhile keeps slapping hollowed cheeks. "Oi! Come on!"
"Rixas," Quell chides, "That's enough."
"He's still there!"
"There is nothing left. Let the child die with dignity. Otherworld will—"
"Mori struck him with the Z Sword! Who knows what'll happen to his soul! The Kai can't survive it!" Rixas shouts back, immediately sending a swill of nausea through Goku. His soul? "He deserves better, Quell! I don't want him to die! He's just a fucking kid who got caught up in our shit— Goddamn it, Trunks, just let the salve do—"
Quell approaches. "The salve will have no effect. Why bother?"
"What'll happen to him?" Goku dares ask. "What do you think – I mean if his soul won't go to Otherworld?"
Rixas doesn't answer him, pressing deeply into the cut along Trunks' chest. His coat and shirt has long since been discarded. Quell watches the process, kneeling and trying to pull Rixas back with surprising mildness.
"It'll be d-destroyed," Rixas manages, breathless, "That's likely… He'll… just be no more." He turns to Quell, his face harsh with dark lines and smeared blood. "And Mori will definitely never forgive himself. You're scared Mori'll do something stupid now, huh? Wait until after all this and he realizes what shit he's pulled."
"And what do you want me to do now?" Quell sneers, recoiling his hand back.
Rixas' lip curls in the silence.
"He's just a mortal! Why do—?"
"Consecrate him."
Quell flusters. "You are joking."
"I'm not. Do it."
"He's… He's…. no, absolutely not!"
"Mori has slain a child! Consecrate him into the Almighty before his soul is diminished. Steal the life or forsake both this innocent fucking kid and our brother."
Consecrate? What's that? What's Rixas saying?
"Such a preposterous notion! Consecration is not an end to a means! One does not simply—"
"Damn it, brother! Do it!"
"HOLD YOUR TONGUE!" Pressure growls in warning, even Goku flinches in his exhaustion. "This honour cannot just be handed out like… like common sweets!"
It's confusing. What's going on? By the sounds of it there's a fledgling of hope. Can they really save Trunks? Is that what Rixas is saying? Can Quell do something?
By the looks of it, Quell might be able to. A cast of confliction shades him darkly; his eyes roam over Trunks without their usual hostility – with scholastic consideration – and that arrogance is replaced with uncertainty.
"You… Can you save my son?"
They turn to see Vegeta, Piccolo behind, with freshly bloodied noses; they're both panting, both tired. Vegeta especially has never looked more vulnerable, like he might burst into tears at any moment.
Quell looks disgusted at the idea of it.
"Please," Rixas then urges, taking his hand and kissing the fingers there, "Brother… For me, if not for Mori. Please. I do not want to lose this boy. In exchange, I will be compliant. I will follow the Collective."
Rixas…
Goku sees Quell's weakness. It's obvious in the light of this moment, his affection for Rixas; an effect enough to stave off the hatred that makes him ugly. The beast is dying.
Wisely, Goku keeps his mouth closed.
It's with submission in which Rixas lowers his head; something is softly drawled in their language, and Quell takes in a breath.
"I… Tch …Fine."
Then it happens so fast.
Quell strikes a hand into Trunks' chest.
"STOP!"
It's right into his heart, urging a last gurgle. A hack of red spit follows. The body convulses.
And then, Trunks is dead.
NOOO!
"You… You MONSTER!"
Goku goes to swing for Quell, only to be held back by Rixas. He's shouting at Goku to calm down, to watch, to wait, but what the hell does he think he's doing? Did he not just see what just Quell did? Even Vegeta isn't moving. He's transfixed by the absurdity of it all, by the horror.
Quell conversely is still. He's staring at Trunks as he mutters to himself, something incomprehensible and melancholic like how someone sings under their breath. It must be what stops Piccolo from moving against him because he stills too, watching with equal fascination at whatever the heck Quell's up to.
There's a beat of nothing. Silence follows. His hand retreats from the gore.
"It is done," Quell says simply, standing.
Goku and Piccolo turn to the body, expecting reanimation but… nothing.
"Wait! Quell… Wait, what did you do?!" Goku demands. "WHA—?"
He's rewarded with a smooth backhand across the face, the smear of Trunks' fresh blood swiping his cheeks. Goku spins to the floor.
"WORM! You should be kissing my feet," he sneers from above, "How dare—"
"Quell," Rixas hisses, "They don't know."
"Tch."
"Where's Trunks?" Piccolo asks. "Did that – whatever that was – save his soul? What is 'Consecrate'?"
"His soul will be fine. It'll just be... not under Kai domain. It'll be, uh, it'll—"
"He belongs to the Almighty now." Quell raises his chin. "I stripped his soul before it could perish and promised it to our plane by nullifying the body."
"You killed him!" Piccolo exclaims in realization. "You— so he didn't go to Otherworld, he—"
"He'll be in the Realm of the Almighty," Rixas says hotly, "It's better than being nothing!"
"It is an honour," Quell sneers, "One only I can bestow as the leader, much like gifting Lanit-Tongue or heading the Collective. Warriors grovel to be a part of our realm, to serve the Almighty and Gods of Revelation! For me to even consider it, well… tsk."
"He'll be fine," Rixas adds. "Just scared, probably. After all this, I'll find him myself. Usually they reappear in Spire grounds."
"As is the holy ritual," Quell snipes, bitter, "Which was massacred in its lack of divinity today. I hope you are pleased with yourself, Rixas. Come here. I am filthy."
"So he's really… gone…." Piccolo's mouth wires shut, his head lowers into his hands.
Quell wipes the worst of the blood along Rixas' rags. "Such dramatics are not becoming. I just said the blasted child has been spared, has been blessed even! Such a prestige—"
"The kid died."
"Consecrated."
"That's the same thing to them!"
Goku feels a great weight leave him; the soul is salvaged, though he can't help but worry about Bulma; Trunks can't ever be brought back, even with dragon balls, just like with Gohan. This is it for him. He's…
Goku swallows, turning to his friend.
Vegeta understands the levy of this, though looks incapable of digesting it; he's still staring at his son's body, doing so until he falls to it, his hands coming to a rest atop the broken chest and curling into matted skin and flesh until his head drops onto it. That's where he lets himself go. In seconds, Vegeta has collapsed into nothing.
"D-Damn it. We need Kibito," Piccolo says, "Where is he? Why the hell hasn't he been here?!"
Goku tugs out of Rixas' grip and pulls Vegeta from the body. He's just as cold as Trunks.
"I haven't seen him or the Supreme Kai since the start of all this," Rixas says. He's spreading some of the remaining Amber Salve over the worst of Vegeta's wounds. "But I did see Beerus. Mori didn't hold back against him, did he? We really need a healer. What a fucking mess." He turns to his brother. "How about you? Do you know where they are? Did you kill anyone – the kais maybe – whilst no one was looking?"
Quell clicks his tongue, looking like he'd want nothing more. "If only."
"Then where—?"
"Who cares?" He goes to reach for Rixas. "As promised, we are returning back to – Oh, for heaven's sake. What now? Do you really want to die that much, Goku Son?"
Goku is between them, his hand a partition. "We all need to go. This isn't over. Gohan's still gonna' make his wish."
"Revelation—"
Rixas throws the empty salve bottle wayside. "He's misguided!"
"He. Is. Our. Brother."
"He tried to kill Trunks!" Piccolo asserts, "That is not the person you once knew; Mori or Gohan!"
"An innocent boy died, Quell!"
"Because you, you foolish cretin, asked me to perform the Consecration!"
"Because Mori brought the Z Sword against him," Rixas vehemently responds, "Earth family or not, when would you know our brother to turn on a child, no less one he has affection for?! You damn well know how fucking messed up he is, how trapped he's becoming. He's gonna' keep at this until Revelation is achieved, sure, but then what? I tell you what, then he'll let the Kai have at him and kill him. He'll become a martyr because that's easier than dealing with all he's done to achieve his goals!"
"You think I would let that happen?!"
"Hah, really? Since when was the kid answering to you? You've lost complete control of him!"
"No, I h—"
"Yes, you have! He answers to that stupid fucking voice in his head and that is it."
"The Almighty?"
"Who else?!"
Tense, Goku breaks the wavering silence. "Gohan needs hel—"
Yet he's physically yanked out of the conversation. "The Almighty is talking to him?" Quell seethes, hand now gripping around Goku's throat.
"He's told me as much before. Isn't it obvious?"
Quell doesn't think so. His clasp tightens and Goku claws against it. "Argh! And I believed Haed to be the biggest concern!"
"He's involved?"
Goku splutters, angering Quell even more. "Mori has been seeking his 'counsel'. Oh, he thinks he's being all secretive about it; the swine. Haed bought his way in; he gifted Mori the six-star, didn't he? He whispers sweet words, I'm sure."
"He gifted it? Just like that?! For free? Why? He obviously wants something!"
"Haven't I always said; 'philanthropy is the gateway to power'? Tsk…" When Goku's coughs turn into chokes, Quell disregards him to the dirt. "By the Almighty! That boy! He actively courts disaster and acts surprised when it ensues. This… with the Almighty… Why did you not voice this to me?"
"Don't look at me! You're the one who watches him like a hawk!"
"Because Gohan is smart enough not to draw attention to himself," Piccolo instead says, "He has always been good at misdirecting those around him as not to be concerned."
It's true. Goku recognizes that Quell is aware of this too. There's a begrudging acknowledgement, chased by a defeated sort of sneer and when he stalks off, Goku thinks he's to leave them in a bout of frustration. He doesn't, but does stand there for a long moment, soundless as the pressure steams from him in measured albeit heated billows.
Goku goes to speak but Rixas practically stuffs a fist into his mouth.
"This Revelation stinks," Rixas says, "I don't agree with it. Wasn't that something we settled on years ago; that we should at least agree on what Revelation should be?"
Quell's back twitches. "We agreed not to achieve Revelation in the first place!"
Eh? Isn't that their job?
Quell senses the confusion and turns, smirk derisive through the cast of rain. "Oh? Did you not expect that, hmm? Why ever so? Would you think me foolish enough to throw away our existence in the name of probable calamity? For what? For the Almighty?"
"Lord Quell, aren't you loyal to the Almighty?"
He scoffs at Piccolo. "The best way to keep a hold of oneself is not to lose oneself in someone else's service."
Rixas nods sagely. "You gotta' be careful not to grow fervent to divinity."
Goku wishes they told Gohan as much. He thinks of his son and how he so readily gave himself up to serve the Earth when he was a boy, how he was ready to please Goku too. It's as if Mori was born into the perfect person to enable this… this devotion.
"Is there a way to break through to him?" Goku dares speak, a little croaky. Quell's eyes are gold and cutting, and he meets them. "Can we fight the Almighty?"
Puckered lips upturn and even Rixas looks displeased at the notion. In all fairness, Goku did just suggest the thing opposite of their job. To, uh, have the Gods of Revelation to go against Revelation and, well, the Almighty; it's a bit ludicrous actually. He coughs, scratching his head.
"I mean, can't we get through to him more than your god-god?"
Rixas pinches his brows. "…God-god?"
"The big… one… that Gohan talks to – you know what I mean! Is it impossible to go against him – I don't know, fight him – or—?"
"Honestly." Quell huffs. There's a look of incredulity. "I simply must wonder how Mori survived as long as he did on this rock with you as a caretaker. We are pledged to the Almighty by birth, and whilst I am not serving its cause directly, I am still of its might and would not allow harm against its power."
"Fight the Almighty," Rixas mocks. For the first time, there's a laugh. He deflates with the sound, looking so worn-out and beaten. It's a foreign noise and after all this crap today, Goku can't help but smile back, tiredly.
Quell doesn't strangle him for it, so that's already a plus.
In fact, Quell is still standing here so that must mean he's not entirely against, well, helping them, right? Goku pushes his luck. "How about Gohan? You think you could take him in a fight?"
Quell bristles at the impression he might otherwise have given. "Mori? Tch! I educated that boy in the way of ki!"
Rixas breathes out in amusement. "That's never stopped him fr—Oh." And then he staggers; as though remembering that he's in fact lethally injured. Goku catches him before he drops.
"Lord Quell, I don't mean to pressure you but we need to know now, will you assist us?"
It's brazen of Piccolo to ask like that. Goku struggles under the weight of not only Rixas' lumbering muscles, but also Quell's answer.
Rixas pants wetly, slipping ever lower. "Brother… It's time to end this. All of this."
Quell closes his eyes. He processes everything.
"If you so insist on a declaration of idiocy then… what choice do you leave me with?" He sighs. "I… cannot leave you to challenge Mori without my charge. He will most definitely bury you without my intervention after all.
"Don't you look so satisfied with yourself, Goku Son, I am still with the hope that Mori will allow me your head after all this is over."
Goku can't believe the turn of this. He grins. "You can try your best. I wasn't bluffing about my next form."
Quell meets his smile with a dark look, pleased. "I am glad to hear as much as for where we are going you would not survive with that pitiful transformation of yours.
"Let us assess the injuries and then we must make haste for Haed's Sanctum, for that's where I believe he will summon the dragon."
The Outskirts of Hell
One.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Two, three, four…
Breathe in.
Five, six…
Breathe out.
Seven.
There are seven Super Dragon Balls at Gohan's disposal.
He crouches above his nest of valuables, rubbing his arms and the robes gathered there as the stinging breeze billows sand into skyward hills around. Red circles, cutting. It bleeds into the sky, it is the grain beneath his boots, between his fingers, in his mouth and throat and it is what is choking him.
But still, Gohan has his dragon balls.
And the wish that will soon follow will be the next step to bring Revelation upon the masses. He is closer to calling forth a righteous change. The Almighty's will shall cleanse the universe of a tool used indiscriminately by wicked forces.
By the Almighty…
It's coming together.
It's happening.
And Gohan is… happy?
Yes.
Happy.
That's why – that's why he is crying, right? Happiness? Joy. Relief, perhaps? Gohan doesn't know. He cannot feel it. The sensation is simply just wet, like catching the first drops of rainfall on an overcast morning. And now there's a dense husk in his chest where a burden once sat, where feasibly, the weight of those feelings would have cut through his wet confusion.
Gohan rocks and wipes his cheeks. His arm drags, jilting. He burbles a laugh in realization that he's only gone and made himself murkier. Trunks' blood is still wet. It tastes tangy.
How silly.
He vomits.
Gohan's knees plants into the sand and for some time he is retching and coughing and making all sorts of unsightly noises that would make Que—
Quell.
He didn't follow Gohan. Well, there's no way he's dead. Gohan would have felt as much through their collective connection. And Quell knows Gohan planned on going to the estate to retrieve the balls, he knows the next step. Rixas certainly isn't strong enough to bring him down, and the others were practically incapacitated – they'd be useless. They'd…
And where's Eyrelle?
Gohan nearly cleaves a split through his lip.
Is this a conspiracy?
He'd been right. They're all going to – one by fucking one – turn on him. They're enemies if they do. Gohan warned them. He warned them when he disintegrated that bastard Zamasu! Gohan had expected Eyrelle the moment he saw the budding of guilt seeding there, and oh, how quickly she must have fallen to Shin's kindness, drinking in his weaponized compassion like a flower turning to the sun. They'd talked. Obviously. It's understandable. He gets it. After all, Gohan would have set his sights on Eyrelle too if he was Shin; a good move in his game, another pawn felled.
But Quell doesn't like kindness. He's not a pawn. He likes to think himself the player but it's Gohan moving the pieces; Quell is but a Queen that Gohan has lost. He'd be here otherwise. He'd be here and not congregating with the other stolen pieces – that's what he's doing, isn't it?
He doesn't care about Revelation, and he doesn't like Gohan usurping him.
Did he dislike Gohan's killing of Zamasu? Had that been it? Or did Rixas bat his eyes? Maybe even his father finally won him over – Gohan knew he would. Goku Son always wins over his villains, whether that is through respect or friendship, it doesn't matter because the result is always the same.
But Gohan respects his father already. He loves him. So much. It hurts how much. If Gohan could feel it still then it would be like someone scraping his insides with a scalpel. This weakness, Gohan knows – he understands – he combats.
He rocks again, laughing because how can they beat him when he knows so well their trickery. Love. They think they can talk him down from the righteous?
The only thing that matters is this Revelation.
Who are they to think they can stop justice? To challenge divinity? Gods do not answer to the public of mortals, but to the Almighty. They are anointed, not appointed. Gohan answers only to one.
Yes! He will carve and cleave and cut any and all who stand in his way! Trunks? Who? Gohan was ready to murder Quell, never mind some… some mortal!
The fierce realization courses him up. His arms flail and he catches the sand, laughing so hard that heat pours from his eyes. It's liberating. Gohan can really do it. He murdered Trunks. He can murder again. The dragon balls – all seven – yes, yes…
Fireworks of ki burst out in celebration. The desert sky glistens in its joy and all around is dazzled in hues of divinity. When it dies the world is cold once more. Colour drains into ivory.
"Mori of Revelation," comes the white as it cracks along the atmosphere. A stunning evergreen dripping in winter snow breathes. "Your enactment of my will; your bearing of the light, my child of Revelation, shall bestow a new tomorrow."
"My lord," Gohan weeps.
"Your brothers have turned their backs upon you but do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
But Gohan is not dismayed. Gohan is nothing. Gohan is a vessel.
Silvery leaves descend downwards, silk to the touch. It's so beautiful.
"Make your wish, my child, and then you can ascend. You will be absolved. You will be with the Almighty."
Without a further whisper, the sky is black once more. The sand continues to spiral and Gohan feels hollow; he stares into the dark with the hungry wonder if there had been anything there to begin with.
His treasures – his dragon balls – glimmer in anticipation.
He breathes in.
He breathes out.
?
They don't go to Hell.
Instead it's a place similar to the Kai world, purple and hazy; the skyline is a calming gradient and opposite of the shrill, wintery chaos on Earth. Gone is the rain, replaced by gentle kisses of wind and floral array. Goku smells the green of the forest. Birds sing in the distance.
"Are we in Otherworld?"
For some reason, Goku's the one carrying Rixas despite his brother being a more suitable candidate. Quell walks ahead. He doesn't even bother answering.
"No, it must be the Realm of the Almighty," Piccolo says from behind, Vegeta draped across his back.
The Realm of the Almighty? Then Trunks must be around here somewhere, right? Goku looks around though he doesn't see him around. Should they look for him? Is there time?
"Hurry. Why are you dallying?!" Quell bites, "I cannot believe it. Mortals in my home… again." A vicious look targets Goku especially. "No, I refuse to rise to it… Honestly, you people do not deserve the restraint I show by not subduing into delirium."
"Is Gohan here?"
"Doubtful."
"A-Ah? Then why—? "
"We have a short moment before he can summon the dragon. It is not so ruefully simple as regular dragon balls. And really, do you believe you can face him in the state you are in?"
They continue through the thicket. Goku senses no ki here but there is an impressive looking building on the horizon, fenced and barricaded by a spreading woodland and lake. Pinpricks of spring colour cut into the walls, flowers climb high. It looks like something out of one of those fantasy films Goten likes, real pretty, like what Fire Mountain could look like if it wasn't so desolate looking all the time.
This must be the estate Rixas told him about. He'd ask, but the guy conked out before they'd teleported here, and Quell isn't exactly the friendliest.
By the time they march to the estate's stairs, the gangly assistant Goku first saw on planet Geo surges over to Quell. What's his name? Criss, Cross? Goku can't remember. He's a flighty sort of person, and speaks so fast at Quell that he reminds Goku of a wind-up toy bloated with pennies.
Quell doesn't appear to like him very much either. He waves in his face, continuing up the steps.
"Mori has been and gone, so it seems," he tells them. "Deposit Rixas on the floor, God, not the chaise lounge. When he learns to bleed less then he can expect comfort. And you, namekian, put that one on the marble."
"He's not doing well," Piccolo tells in reference to Vegeta, "He needs Kibito—"
Quell clicks his fingers and gestures smoothly, the action summoning Cross to Vegeta's side. There's back and forth between the two, and then an experimental plunge on Cross' behalf into the grisliest of Vegeta's cuts. Goku supposes it a good sign when he cries out in pain – at least he's not that far gone.
"Stupid creature," Cross murmurs in his heavy accent.
"Indeed," Quell agrees.
Looking around, Goku gets his bearings. Framed pictures sneer down at Goku with disdain. It's real fancy. He feels kind of bad as he drips red along the floor, stumbling as he passes ornaments and antiques surely older than him. It all makes him feel especially out of place, though Quell doesn't comment on it. He's going through a cabinet drawer, rattling about noisily with the occasional flinging of something unnecessary. Soon, a vial emerges and is tossed in direction of the wounded; an unspoken order because Cross opens it and starts dousing his own hands in the aluminous green the vial coughs out.
A similar bottle smacks Goku centre of the forehead.
"Save time and apply that to any deep cuts. Did Mori strike you with the Z Sword?"
"A-Ah, not really. Is this the same as Amber Salve?"
"No."
The door slams after Quell.
And from then on, time drags its heels.
Vegeta is sleeping, though not peacefully; he's fitting and mumbling something foreign.
At least he's alive. It'd been touch and go. Yet Goku suspects that surviving this will be harder than just waking up. From his own experience with losing Gohan, something crucial within dies along with them; and Vegeta won't be strengthened by it either, he'll be poisoned. The sooner they find Trunks, the better for Vegeta.
Gohan… How could you – ? YEOUCH!
Cross does not have a gentle hand.
He gets around to Goku last and takes the longest, seemingly exacting a strange pleasure in watching Goku squirm under his healing technique. It's not reminiscent of Kibito, who is gentle and patient (even if he's a bit moody). No, instead there is an unprofessional layer of dislike which has Cross manhandle Goku roughly, throttling him about as though he's made of rubber. The green liquid is fire to the skin, Cross' hands the eager kid with the matches.
Even then, the after effect of the healing leaves Goku feeling stiff. Rixas later tells him it's in due to the Kai being famously superior in the art of Healing compared to all else, though it's just as likely that Cross is just a bit of a jerk.
Quell returns at about the same time Rixas wakes up and they have a private conversation that involves zero shouting; a first, which is a good sign because that means they must be on the same page. Rixas is nodding a lot. Quell, now cleanly presented, is tying his hair back as they chat, as unbearably serious as Goku's come to know him.
"We can win this," Goku then realizes.
"Maybe," Piccolo replies, though he doesn't look as optimistic. "Gohan is powerful."
"I know that."
"And he's mentally unstable."
"I… know that, too."
"We don't know what he's capable of."
"We do," Goku says lowly, "We know that he's capable of the worst. He nearly killed Trunks."
"He did kill Trunks," Piccolo corrects, fierce.
Goku steels his gaze. "Trunks will survive this. I trust Rixas. Somehow, we'll get him home, Almighty or not. I won't let it control anyone I care about again."
"You're being too expectant, Son. Even if we survive this, even if Revelation doesn't happen, things cannot be the same again."
"Sure it can." He'd told Gohan the same thing. There will always be a space for his son in 439 Mountain Area. "If Rixas and Quell can get through to him – maybe use their collective magic thing – then Gohan will get better. He'll… I don't know, he'll be better, I guess. He'll…"
"Gohan murdered the Kai. I don't care what deal they promised, they won't overlook that. Use your head. After all this, if he fails or if he cannot win over the remaining Kai or other gods, Gohan'll become a Kai prisoner. Or worse, he'll be dead. He's smart enough to know that."
"Dead?"
"A martyr. I'm sure he'd love that." He clicks his tongue. "Revelation matters most to Gohan, and surviving it is not a priority to him," Piccolo continues. He turns and watches Quell and Rixas talk, his scowl deepening. "And they know that. I think… that's why Lord Quell agreed to help."
Haed's Coliseum, Hell
The Super Dragon Balls are rumoured to harbour a dragon so large that it could take up an entire solar system – though Gohan mentally dispels such rumours – still, the dragon will certainly be colossal, especially considering the energy poured into it by Zalama all those millennia ago. Perchance, it will be the nucleus Gohan will be discussing his wish with, the fragmented representation of power.
"The divinity aura is strongest here, my lord, as you said."
Gohan nods, passing Byleath and admiring the coliseum of Haed's keeping. He runs a palm over the ruined stone, eyes closed, listening to the screaming from all around. The Sinner's Lake is especially fervent in its horror.
"You did well, Byleath, for securing such a place. And what of the excess of souls ingrained into the earth?"
"Deposited into the lake, sir."
That explains the singing. Gohan nods once more, surveying the mass of land; the ruins, the enlarged hourglass of sand-crushed souls overlooking the greatness of which will be achieved here today.
His eyes draw to the sand. He watches it trickle, rubble of what was once people. Does it trickle within him? Are the grains snowing downwards; slowly smothering, slowly descending into obscurity?
"—My lord?"
Gohan slowly turns to Byleath, his last subject.
"I said; what do you wish me to do?"
"About what?"
"The energies; Lord Rixas and Lord Quell, followed by Goku Son and Piccolo the namekian."
Gohan isn't surprised at Quell's betrayal. His Almighty warned him. Gohan knew already. Truly, they're all inevitable in their leaving of him, Byleath included.
Yes. No one is to be trusted.
Smothering the temptation to kill Byleath where he stands, Gohan hums. He reaches out his feelers to Hell's latest guests. Indeed, they are on the doorstep. "Inform Haed that the wards will not hold Quell for long, not long enough for the wish."
"Do you want me to relocate the dragon balls?"
"Don't you touch them," Gohan hisses, "Only I have that right."
"Of course."
The seven balls are spread equally over the grounds of the coliseum. They are perfectly aligned in distance from one another. It would be such a bother to reset them. Still, there is a chance that things may get messy, and if Quell now wants to turn a hand against him then Gohan best not take the chance of losing the balls once more.
So he buries them. It's his compromise.
"Such vigilance," Gohan hears as he covers the last one, his beloved four-star.
"Did you strengthen the wards?"
"Oh, no. I released them, of course," Haed returns, "What kind of host do you take me for, Mori? I am nothing if not hospitable."
When Gohan doesn't reply, he feels an icy set of claws whittle through his hair. "You are more beautiful than ever," he caws throatily, "How untied your energy feels, how uninhabited, as though you are Revelation embodied."
Gohan sneers, retreating. "How many times do I need to tell you not to touch me?"
Haed's face splits into what one may consider a grin. "Until your dying breath."
"My Zealite forces are reduced. Byleath tells me most are dead if not injured," Gohan says, "What of your forces?"
"My forces?"
"Well, this is your sanctuary. I am not to be persuaded that it is unmanned."
"Ah, yes," he reflects as though realizing his position, "I suppose I do have one or two I can spare for you once your brothers arrive. Though, it would come at a price."
"Nothing lecherous, I hope."
"You are art to be admired, not a dish to be sampled." His filthy black cloak trails after him as he climbs the steps to the podium. There's an expectation that Gohan follows, and he does. "No, do not worry for your virtue. My feelings withered an era ago when I lost my own collective, my own other, and alongside it my own will to preserve my being. I am now with a life where I recollect the dusty memory of what once was."
Gohan stops suddenly when Haed swings around, cloak kissing air.
"Yes," he breathes, "How you remind me so. Perhaps that is why I favour this generation of Gods of Revelation, especially you as you resemble him so; both in appearance and vitality."
Gohan doesn't balk. "Your price, Haed."
"In time, my child. It is nothing you cannot afford."
Golden eyes thin. "Revel—"
"—shall be achieved, do not fret."
Gohan watches out from over the podium, hands curling around the white rockery, his gaze long and lost in the crimson valleys. "I haven't the choice. Even I will struggle to fight them all coming at me at once. Summon your… creatures and be done with it."
Haed's sallow features twist in amusement. "Do not be like that. They are hardly creatures."
This is true. For them to be creatures, they'd need to be living.
Below, the ground rumbles, dirt climbs into hills, pressed aside by the bony, skeletal hands that reach for life. An army awaits those who dare come.
He breathes in.
"Your enactment of my will; your bearing of the light, my child of Revelation, shall bestow a new tomorrow."
He breathes out, smiling, empty.
Tomorrow is today.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
And the final pillar has fallen. In Gohan's supporting camp remains very few - and for how long? Long enough that he's able to achieve his goals? I think Gohan's too long gone to feel truly the whip of Quell's betrayal, at least right now. Next chapter will be a hitter. Thanks to Kags for beta-ing. She's going to hate me for the next one, because it'll likely be double the length, easy. More action. Yay. I've had some lovely feedback about my fight scenes, but truth is, like most writers, I fucking hate writing them. They drain me so!
I'll keep it short and sweet. Thanks very much for all your reviews and general feedback! It really keeps me motivated. I'm hoping to go back and clean up the first half of the story so if you do enjoy rereading you may see a couple changes in the near(ish) future.
Ight. See you guys on the next one!