The Horse with No Name

by Bonsim

Some months after Buu, Gohan's walking the road paved out for him. He's studying for college, dating Videl, and enjoying normality. But normality is fragile and Gohan doesn't know that he's on borrowed time. When Death takes him to his reawakened destiny Gohan's dual nature pulls him between two very different lives; one of Gohan Son, and one of a god.

50. The Holy Super Saiyan

The Horse with No Name

---

"The clash of all these circumstances has helped water the sapling of what is Revelation," the Supreme Kai finishes, "With Gohan Son and Mori of Revelation as one, with mortality and divinity spliced, unhinged dangers lie in wait for all of mortals, Kai and gods alike. Perhaps the true danger does not simply just sit with Revelation but with Lord Mori himself."

---

Chapter Fifty

The Holy Super Saiyan

---

Beneath the dragon is strangely dark, as though all its light is being channelled upwards into a golden crown so bright. Goku steps tentatively into this unknown, trying his best to ignore the warring outside the new den of shadow. It's made private by the fence of revolving sand, the gate only present when one's mad enough to push through. Goku had done just that.

He is not alone.

A man more resembling a bat than human, what with ashen skin and an elongated face, turns to him. Ram-like horns curl atop his head devilishly. There is no surprise, albeit there is what could be read of frustration. But it's fleeting. As quickly as Goku recognized it, it's gone. Instead, lips now curl in ugly amusement in his direction.

"Are you frightened, Goku Son?" asks the man, low, "My gardens must not have been gentle with such a pure soul as yourself. Have the whispers been inhospitable? Do they make demands of you?"

Goku's skin crawls as the man slithers closer. "You," Goku realizes, "Must be Haed."

Yellow teeth appear. His eyes grow bright at the recognition. "I must. Yes."

Haed glides over the sand, black fabric dragging loyally over what Goku realizes to, not be rocks, but the peak of budding skulls. The creatures. He looks down in a panic to realize he's stood on them too.

"Do not fret, sweet one. They will bring no harm onto you unless I command it."

Goku swallows the dryness in his throat. "Yeah, well, you would've been a big help back over there when a whole gang of them came at us. W-What… Who is—?"

Goku hadn't seen it before, the body.

It's that Zealite.

Dead.

There's a blackened blade protruding the skull. Discomfort swills. Why would he kill someone on the same side? This guy had loyally served Gohan. He'd been helping them.

Haed turns to the body to appreciate his handiwork. "Yes. My poniard is a thing of beauty, isn't she?"

"Your what? I don't understand. Why did you –? He'd been on your side!"

"My poniard," he continues with a whimsical lightness, "My companion. My slayer of the divine and the less. It can take any man's life should the blade simply pierce the skin. Luxun's final token. Death ends a life, not a relationship, you must understand."

Goku eyes the dagger with fledging fear.

"Oh… Do not concern yourself with it right now, for you are much too powerful to attack so brazenly."

There's the sound of the floor parting, of sand dispersing. Goku watches with bated breath as hands drag the body beneath. The blade emerges, bobbing atop the red.

He could grab it—

He stops, when Haed comes close enough to rest his black-nailed fingers against Goku's chest. "What are you –?!"

"Killing you like that, however… tsk, what a waste that would be. For how long would you fuel my hourglass?" Haed breathes, eyes closed. "Eternally, almost, surely. Yes. You are such a wondrous thing. So good. So, so pure."

Goku pulls away, crunching a foot through one of the skulls. "Why are you doing this?" he asks, desperate to change the topic. "Why are you helping Gohan with Revelation?"

"Mori sought my assistance many a waning gibbous ago, long before your purity even birthed into this dark existence. You must understand, Goku Son, we – Mori and I – have a most special relationship. I am his confidant, and a supporter of his cause. So of course, nothing would please me more than one last Revelation."

Panicky laughter sounds in tow with Goku stepping back. Less than thirty seconds with the man is making his stomach do all sorts of things. "Gohan is smarter than trusting someone like you."

"Beyond his own forces, all others have betrayed him. I alone stand by his side. Does this account for nothing? Not even his beloved father will serve the universe's best interests, only his own selfish desires of retaining power. How Mori hurt. How hastily he turned to me in his time of need. And now the other gods of Revelation betray him too? For shame."

"Right. I bet it's working out nicely for you, huh?"

"I am following Mori's will." Oh, what a load of crap. Goku doesn't believe this guy for a second. "So, Goku Son, why are you stood before me? An audience, perhaps?"

Goku gestures a thumb up at the looming dragon. "I'm actually here for that guy."

"I see."

His energy flares, a warning. "But I've got a feeling you're not gonna' make it easy for me."

"I have no intention of fighting you. I am no warrior." Still, cold sweat trickles down Goku's nose, he doesn't drop his stance, not with this creep looking at him like he's breakfast served. "Though," Haed continues, gazing up at the gold above, "I am burning with curiosity. How do you plan to dismiss the Divine Dragon? Do you speak the divine language?"

Goku falters. Divine language?

"Why, did you believe the beast would engage with you using the common tongue? Such the oversight on your behalf, I am afraid, sweetling. The language is ancient and not even most gods speak it what with its vintage, especially not the fledglings who serve the Almighty. Mori is not entirely inadequate, as per my teachings, but summoning the Divine Dragon, no, that is not for a novice."

So even Quell wouldn't be able to talk to the dragon; that's what this guy is saying. Shin? No, probably not. Goku feels his chest pulsate at speed. Crap. Crap. Crap.

Only Haed and Gohan would have any luck with this thing. Maybe Beerus would have had too if Gohan hadn't splattered his head. Had Gohan known? Had it been planned?

"Such a shame, yes. I imagine you are disappointed."

"Whis," Goku remembers, "He can—"

"Angels remain impartial in matters of Revelation. He is unable to assist you. So you see, Goku Son, there are no speakers you are able to recruit into your arsenal. You are helpless. A spectator in this chapter and that is all. Alas, there is very little to spectate until Mori returns to me with Quell's head, when the true showdown between them commences. For now, let us enjoy one another's company. I have so few visitors and I am sadly unable to leave my sanctum. What do you think of my sand? Her properties?"

Goku doesn't give a damn about sand. "Gohan won't kill Quell."

"Oh. How sure you are."

"I am. Jerk or not, that guy is his brother."

Haed laughs breathily. He makes a show of kneeling low to appreciate the grains making up the desert. His bony hands splay through the sand and he swirls shapes into it. "Gods of Revelation are not truly related. They are not born from any lineage, they have no parents; they are matter from the true one God. They are an extension of might. Whatever relationships they form amongst themselves is faux. It is no different to playing House. Siblings, lovers, friends… How arbitrary. No, they are simply tools – as they should understand, as Mori does. They are tools for Revelation."

That's not true. Gohan is more than his worth to some cruddy Almighty. He's wonderful and caring. Rixas, too, he's so strong in more ways than just physical prowess. Even Quell… has a personality. He's smart, and he loves Gohan. That's enough. Goku, then, realizes that Famis had been a person too, once upon a time ago. He'd been alive with a relationship his own with his brothers, Mori included. He'd been alive with likes and dislikes and wants.

These gods… they deserve more than their duty.

Quell's words run through his mind. "Would you think me foolish enough to throw away our existence in the name of probable calamity? For what? For the Almighty?"

This is what Quell's wanted all along.

Liberation to live, to love, to exist without divine shackles.

"The best way to keep a hold of oneself is not to lose oneself in someone else's service," Goku finds himself parroting.

Haed gives him an appraising look. "The Gods of Revelation should have no sense of self. Mori understands that duty comes before all else. The Almighty imprinted upon him."

"And that's why he's useful to you."

There is a derisive sort of noise from him, and then what could be considered a smile. It's an unpleasant sight, lecherous almost. And it's at that moment Goku knows for certain that he's on the money. What could Haed want from all this? What would he need—?

"Gohan gathered together the dragon balls," Goku comprehends, "And then he summoned the dragon here because you told him too, right? Like you just said; you can't leave this place. You are using him. You want the dragon, and I… I just interrupted you. You were about to make your wish, weren't you?"

There is no instant reply, and so Goku begins to power up. He won't let him play Gohan like this. Haed won't have his wish.

"Your admirable instincts are a result of your breeding," Haed finally off-hands, "Saiyan. That is the reason Mori wanted you in the first place. Truly, he, as one would say, lucked out. What a fine specimen you are, Goku Son. And what a… fine addition you will be to my garden."

With languid gesture of the hands, the floor beneath Goku's feet grumbles. The skulls begin to curl upwards. The creatures; they come, with stretched, horrid faces that hold stationary terror. Young, old, dilapidated, fresh; they rotate with empty eye sockets, following Goku as he stumbles on his heels.

Throbbing, the skulls slink from the ground, congealed together as one mass of lumpy filth. Any free mouth is crying about something, screaming, sounding like they're experiencing the worst kind of pain.

"Alas, you are not entirely correct in your hypothesis for I cannot make my wish without Mori present. Unfortunately, the dragon refuses my wishes. Omnipotence cast me aside eons precious as I, through Revelation of past, was forsaken." There's consideration, a moment of lamentation. "For now, I must remain patient and allow my sweet Mori to pluck the weeds that have infiltrated my garden. Once done, he shall join me and give me my wish."

"He won't help the likes of you," Goku bites out.

There's a soft laugh. "How much sand will you produce, my sweet Goku Son? I cannot wait to find out."

Goku blasts the swaying, gelatinized stack of, now, limbs. Arms and legs gesture out. They twitch. They grab for him.

The thing groans as it consumes the continuous blasts Goku sends at it. It's not like the creatures. They'd die quickly. This thing… this thing isn't even registering that it's being attacked!

"How unkind of you," Haed simpers, "Had you not been friends previously?"

What is he talking about?

"What is this thing?" Goku demands. He sends more blasts at the thing just because it halts it into clumsy stumble. He doesn't like it. It's giving him all the bad heebie-jeebies.

"Just remember, you cannot help the dead, Goku Son. You can only keep them company."

The thing then wobbles at speed, screeching, as if beckoned. On reaction, Goku charges out his largest blast yet. Cindering yellow sends the monster coursing back, skulls and arms flying asunder. They shatter on impact, but still, the thing doesn't die. Like sludge, more appendages from the sand saunter up and into the unstable form. It grows even bigger than before.

"The Last One," Haed then says with the air of distraction, his nose pointing away, in direction of the faraway explosions of war. "It shall envelop you into the fold. I will unfortunately be unable to watch such a magnificent feat as I am, truly, a busy man. But Goku Son, my cherished mortal in this tale, I will be sure to give you all my attention when you embrace your inevitable; your place in my hourglass."

He's gone before Goku can reach him, the Last One firmly now once where its master once stood.

And if possible, it gets worse.

For in the monster, Vegeta's distorted face gapes back.

"No," Goku manages, just before the sky bursts into golden flames.

---

How dare Quell be annoyed with him? It's he who turned on Gohan! It's him who is acting the traitorous coward!

Gohan will stand atop those who have wronged him!

He yells out with his latest burst of energy. Hell bound debris climbs around, dancing in beat with Gohan's melody, the brightness coming from the dragon's natural light warps into a bend and along with it, there's an orbit of electricity prowling.

He clasps his fist. Quell stares from the other side of it, still as thin eyed and furious as imaginable, watching as the hand slowly unfurls. Fingers present themselves and from them, Gohan calls the rain.

The beautiful thing about energy, Gohan learned as he pooled over books, research journals and the like, is that it is everywhere. Natural, living ki can be discovered even in the most barren places of existence, even somewhere like Hell. Especially somewhere like Hell. And this is the true Hell, the old Hell, the one rich in darkness and history – and also appropriately rich in energy.

Luxun's Domain had been the same. That place – the old Heavens – had almost been too much for Gohan at one point. The decadent fertility of ki there, within the amalgamation's den, had been like giving a painter an infinite amount of acrylic. Gohan is something of an artist himself. His medium is energy, and today he will paint Quell the most telling fucking picture of his life.

The sky above provides. She gives.

Drops of light cascades downwards in mockery of Quell's torrential attacks.

Quell is insulted by the move. A shield far better constructed than what Gohan can make materializes, and it follows him even as he foolishly pursues Gohan. It shelters him as this new rain falls in sheets. Steam sizzles upwards from rockery and sand, turning smoke white and bringing upon a rotten smell.

It's the methane. It can be smelled from the lakes too. Inhaling too much of it can even give Gohan a headache, and with it now overflowing aloft with pungency, he counts on the toxins to be another hazard for the other fighters below to contend with.

Quell, as with Gohan, remains unfazed. He doesn't waste a moment longer. He is apparently so desperately intent on bringing pain down upon his brother. Hungry for it, really. He courses, fast.

Gohan feels the knuckles graze his lips, and then the following jab miss by equal distance. Soon enough, time elapses with them interlocking in on-going combat. They're exchanging blows with no serious hits landing or no fatal ki blasts flying. It's a stale exchange. A flat line of nothing; so with nothing progressing, patience begins to thin on both ends.

They shouldn't be this equal, Gohan decides as he pulls back into a skid along the sand.

He breathes out a wet pant.

Quell is stronger than this. He must be humouring Gohan.

He doesn't breathe heavily like Gohan, though that shield above him is cracked and unhappy. Even for gods, projecting a shield for this long and under duress is not a simple feat.

Should Gohan power up?

Yes, encourages the voice. The Almighty.

"I am seeing a repeating tactic in our altercation. Making me spread myself thin, are you?" Quell comments, "Is that the intention?"

Gohan's mouth sets into an insipid line.

The white energy continues to cook the earth. Quell captures some of it, allowing it to burn his gloves. He contemplates the results. "Hm. Acidic. You changed the composition."

There's the unspoken story of those words.

It'd been Quell who had been the one to educate him on this matter after all. Not as Mori, but as Gohan, it was that these lessons had been taught, a year at most after drinking the elixir. Quell and he had been in Uotoo Mountain District on planet Mer-1, fresh from their visit at one of the night cathedrals famous for biome energy worship. It'd been outside one of the modest parishes that house the disciples where Gohan remembers Quell's teachings most.

They'd been stargazing one brisk evening. Gohan's hands were memorably charred and slick with a layer of aloe-based healing syrup, but he still enjoyed the heat of the fire on them.

Quell's lecture had followed. "Note how, whilst warm, the glow of the fire itself does not drown out the glow of the night sky. I made it so it is does not produce light pollution. Consider the dullness of the blue centre. This is due to a slight component change to the energy present—"

"Doesn't that off-set the balance?" Gohan had asked, so very green.

"Not here."

"So it's like ki manipul—"

"No. Shut up about that."

"But that's what I want to learn ab—"

"Shut up," he'd repeated, "I am not teaching that until you understand the fundamental basics of what we are discussing here. Clearly, you have forgotten everything in which you had once known before your reincarnation nonsen – Stop picking at the wound! You'll infect it and we'll be then suffering a repeat of what happened in the Creamery Realm." His face had been so very pinched in the campfire's radiance, red and flickering but oddly alive with the thrill of educating Gohan. "When you do not disappoint me with such a pitiful display, I will teach you more about ki manipulation."

Isn't it funny? To remember something like that now…

Perhaps Quell should be thanked. He'd instilled this power in Gohan. He'd been the one to arm Gohan to do what's right.

Somewhat nostalgic, Gohan feels the weight of the moment and the subsequent memories in which followed. The turbulence of improving hardened him. It made him able to fight adeptly with his Z Sword. It had made him able to contort and control.

Gohan raises his chin high, admiring the fact that this final hurdle had always been inescapable. Quell was his first and last foe. As Mori, he'd seen that. This is the true enemy of the plight.

"Such an expression… Do not look down upon me, Mori. Do not dare."

"How rich," Gohan sneers. "I imagine it must hurt your pride to come to such a conclusion after looking down on me after all these years."

"There is a natural hierarchy. It is time for you to understand that!"

"Below you?"

Quell is indignant in his rush of fury. "How that must pain you, how you must loathe to be protected and cared for."

"Your betrayal… is this the care you speak of?"

"And how many times have you betrayed me? The Zealites, returning to Goku Son." There's a pause. "My attempted murder…" Quell then puts out, quieter. "How many times did you expect me to forgive you?"

For some reason Gohan feels a hitch in his throat, a familiar stranger in his chest smothered by the numbness. "…It doesn't matter," Gohan eventually gets out, equally as quiet, "In the end, how we feel about each other doesn't matter."

"Because of Revelation."

"Yes."

Quell scoffs and he removes his burnt gloves. There's mesmerisation in watching the action, in watching the wind swallow them up.

The silence cracks when finally Quell looks back to him. "What… What do you want me to say to you, Mori? Right now, if you could hear anything, what would it be? Would my kindness ever have been enough?"

Gohan doesn't understand the question. He doesn't need to hear anything from Quell. He doesn't need anything from anyone other than their cooperation. The only desire of Gohan's is to serve the Almighty.

"I do not understand how I keep failing you," Quell continues, his voice wracked with… God, is that insecurity?

His eyes are firmly connected with Gohan's own, wavering and painfully emotional. It would hurt to look at if Gohan could still truly feel. The nakedness of this moment would be too much.

"Mori, I do not want strife with you. You are my… family, so please…. Please just stop this… Little brother, I am… not demanding this." There's consideration. "So, for our benefit, I am asking. I am hoping. Just… stop."

Gohan hangs in the air.

This is new territory.

This… is unexpected.

Is Quell – God, is he – begging?

The earnestness is sickening. Gohan aches from the proximity, from the twisting in his chest – and… and…

His hands produce confirmation that has him laugh, wetly so. There are tears, again, and they just fucking slop down his cheeks.

Oh, by the Almighty. Why?

Again. Why is he crying again? Why won't his body just cooperate?

Furiously, Gohan rubs his cheek raw.

His hands are heavy with evidence.

"I… must… do… this," he tells them.

Gohan tightens on reaction when Quell approaches. He stands his ground with eyes so wide that they sting. He even loses control on the descending white energy that befalls Hell. It dies and Gohan does nothing about it.

And to make matters worse, there's an unoffending hand which draws closer and into the knot of Gohan's hair, where it then rests. Gohan's throat grows tight and his words tarry as he tries to tell Quell to back off, to fuck off. Yet when Quell's forehead presses against his own, Gohan becomes cemented and the words clogged.

"You needn't do anything, and especially alone," Quell says, "I am here, brother."

But Quell had the chance to stand by his side and he threw it away.

Still, the mind is a strange thing. Gohan feels himself slowly sink into a plethora of instances so similar to this; memories that Gohan felt he lost to time in his eons as Mori. Childhood moments not yet regained, personal (albeit rare) times in which Quell would extend familial softness. Gohan basks in it, in this oasis in this fucking dry and coarse desert. He remembers the stargazing once more, this time fondly.

"Revelation is our destiny," Gohan has to tell him.

"It does not have to be."

But it does. It really, really does.

Gohan chokes on his confusion. The Almighty is talking at him again, in his mind, screaming and shouting words that blend together into a soup of obstruction. It's like tarry static. All at once the syrupy words are too saccharine, too tart, and Gohan is left pulling away and cringing into his hands. He can't make out the words, only the displeasure.

The Almighty is very much so displeased. It doesn't like Quell. It's never liked Quell, which is understandable because Quell has always been resentful of it.

"What is it saying?" Quell asks, coming closer, breathing in Gohan's air.

Revelation.

"Brother—"

"Revelation," Gohan cuts him off, "It's leading me – leading me to salvation, to Revelation. You can't understand," he then realizes, "No, you've never understood it. None of you have. Not Rixas, not Famis and not you."

"Revelation is dangerous. It has taken many of our ancestors, Mori. You must understand my apprehension of it. I do want to lose you." Before Gohan can point out his contradictions, Quell elaborates with a flourish of a hand. "If you consider me standing against Revelation as a personal betrayal then you are wrong. This has consumed you beyond recognition. You slayed a boy you care for. You are devolving into a vessel with little more personality than any other common day fanatic. I said before that I did not want to lose you yet this is just another manner of loss. Loss of self. Mori, I implore you to hear my words."

"And I implore you to get out my way," Gohan hisses, "I just need my wish. It is so simple. Let me have it."

Quell approaches, the wind challenging his pursuit. "And then what? We wage war against the remaining Kai? We ward off the scavenging lords and gods who seek power within the reigning council? If you step down now then we can agree upon a truce."

Wetly, Gohan scoffs. "And of Famis' vengeance?"

Quell's eyes squeeze closed. "I must prioritize the living."

"Yes." Gohan laughs once more, cupping his banging head. "I feel the same, except I am not thinking of my immediate family, but of the universe, of all the ignored living that goes mercilessly massacred in the name of power."

"Your motivations are tangled. Do you serve the Almighty or your own deluded kindness?"

"There is nothing delusional about my ambition. Ki has—"

"Mori, if it is worth doing at all then it is worth doing properly. We can address this issue together, but not like this, not as Revelation. It is reckless."

Gohan heaves at the thought. It is the Revelation. What is he saying?

"Revelation and ki removal do not need to be one and the same," he continues, his palm now against Gohan's arm. It rests confidently. "Let us stop today – just for now – and talk over a less impetuous approach to the dissolving of ki. We will do this through the divine system. We will appeal to the Angels should we have to. Pausing the venture today allows for everyone to coexist another day and gives opportunity for a war not to happen between Kai and gods."

But it's too late for all of that. Quell should know that. Gohan's butchered so many of them already.

"I'll protect you," Quell elaborates quietly, "I always have. Please, just, stop this. I am asking you this as an equal. Do this and I will devote myself to assisting you in doing this in a safer, less rash manner. No dragon balls. No Haed. No fanaticism."

Mouth dry, Gohan breathes, ragged. But… Revelation. It must be the Revelation. How…?

This is your purpose, whispers that nectarine voice.

As a child of the Almighty, you must push through the turbulence of the sceptics.

You must.

Or, they will all die.

Everyone will die.

All for your weakness of heart.

Remember.

We must prioritise duty over heart, otherwise you are simply one of the masses.

But Gohan is a god. He is above the masses.

Duty over heart: your previous mortal instincts should even be able to understand such a mantra.

"Duty over heart," Gohan repeats, savouring the flavour of something he's always understood. But – but if Quell says that together they could, in time, in – in…

His lungs refuse to cooperate. And his heart scrapes against his chest, threatening as vomit. Why does everything feel smaller? Hell is infinite. It should not feel so small.

Revelation is the Great Change. It is instantaneous. It must throw the universe on its head. It helps by shaking up the old order. Gohan wants to help. He wants to help them all. Why doesn't anyone want it like he does? Why is everyone so fucking nonchalant?

Gohan grasps at his hair, threatening it from the roots. His breathing comes out as haggard gasps.

"Mori," Quell says, calmer than Gohan's yet heard. His pressure returns, but no longer is it a tsunami. Instead it's the meeting of a gentle shore, and if anything, worse. "Trust me," he urges, "Return into the fold. Come home."

It's another claustrophobic idea. Return to the Realm of the Almighty? But, he can't. No – but j-just no. It'll be his prison once more.

Forever trapped, Gohan's Almighty reiterates.

Gohan whines at the idea. He can't be stuck there again.

So many have already died for the cause.

They have.

Must you start again then their deaths will mean nothing.

"It's true," Gohan agrees. Trunks, Roarg, Jivel, Zamasu – and Gohan will have to kill others for their indiscretions. Eyrelle will have to die, too. God. When will the bloodshed end? When can this be over?

"-n you hear me, Mori?" Quell is closer again. His hands daringly rise to touch him, to mar him with his filthy fucking heretical sweetness.

It will not be the first time one of the Almighty must slay another.

Gohan is passive, watching Quell's mouth move on its own accord. He hears none of it.

You know that this one is your greatest weakness.

He nods because it's true.

Quell must think it's for him because he looks pleased. Gohan has to laugh because of how horrible the truth is.

Strike him down, and then, following, slay your mortal father. Soon after, the others will understand your dedication. Love for the lesser people is a sin when you are unable to serve.

"I love you."

Gohan looks up at his brother, his favourite, after hearing something he'd never expect to be so brazenly told to him by Quell.

"Yes," Gohan agrees, "I love you, too."

The most painful sacrifice.

Gohan knows that it's time.

His eyes flutter closed.

It is now that he must transform into the one true Super Saiyan God, to cleanse the filth.

To perform his duty.

To serve.

---

Change for the sake of change, Gohan contemplates, is the blood of living.

He lounges backwards in the cess pool of guts and gore. He's waterlogged in the blood of his latest pursuit. These bastards begged in some backwater language he didn't understand, but it all sounds the same; crying and desperate pleas for mercy.

But did they give mercy to the inhabitants of this space station?

Lonely, Gohan acknowledges that they certainly did not. His gaze trails longingly over the otherwise beautiful horizon, sprawling his fingers against the star opposite. He watches the light disappear behind the digits of his fingers, the glow flickering painfully against his eyes. Blue spots linger.

The power in his hands.

The lives he has just ripped apart.

Some of them were recruits. Some were slave soldiers. Some were perhaps hired hands aboard a ship sentenced to pillage this station.

Gohan slayed them all.

It's funny when one accepts themselves a monster. It's to mourn something lost. It's to lose that child within that wants for nothing more than to be safe, for everyone to get along, to be friends with the world.

Gohan recognizes this memory as a moment of change for him. He recalls accepting his villainy.

Maybe this was the real day Gohan Son died.

Who is he now? What is he, even?

Mori? No, not as before. Gohan has learned too much – he's lived the mortal experience. Is he a receptacle of divinity? Most certainly. The Almighty chose him after all.

But in that moment, on that quiet morning on some forgetful space station, could Gohan have ever realized how far he'll have to descend?

Would it have bothered him to know, even then, that he would go as far as to personally slay those he loves?

Gold.

Now, he screams. His voice rips raw. And gold swills so brightly that he may as well be God itself. Around and around, the desert transforms into a halo of whipping sand. Gohan hovers in the midst. Quell must have been banished by the divinity – by Gohan's energy – and sentenced down to the wastrel First Ones and whatever else is there. Gohan meanwhile relishes in the wicked brilliance of the ascension. It's his first time, properly. After absorbing the sand stone from Haed, he'd felt a rush, but this… this is something else.

The deaths and sacrifices of his saiyan heritage will not be forgotten. No, they'll be embraced. Gohan will use their essence to bring down all those who dare to get in his way. He can feel them. He can feel the mutilated souls within breathe out their desire for Gohan to exact the Almighty's will. Yes. Yes. They would want this. They do want this.

By the time he's stopped powering up, the world seems to have stopped. Time has halted for this great moment. History will be made.

Revelation, the Almighty…

Saiyan.

This is happening because Mori made himself a saiyan. Gohan is a god because he is a saiyan.

Father…

He needs to be thanked too, for his blood.

Gohan opens his eyes. The world – Hell – now glistens with hope. He blinks, slowly, taking it all in, trying to recall how to move within a world so busy and hazy. Noise exists everywhere. Gohan sees it. Little vibrating molecules buzz. Sand grains individually grate against one another. A breeze, somewhere, perhaps thousands of miles away, hisses through the trees.

He doesn't realize he's moving until his hands present themselves, as if to demonstrate power. They crackle wonderfully. Electric. Gohan's energy has always enjoyed manifesting in such a way. The second ascension of Super Saiyan had been made for him, the electricity, the speed, the single-minded dedication of duty.

This form showcases itself differently. His skin is no longer pale, but sun-kissed. An unnatural golden hue has dyed him in its holiness, a beauty of royal infliction, and carries up along his arms and presumably under his robes. From his peripheral vision, he notices equally golden hair that ascends against his aura – surprising him only somewhat – of course he would not have the plebeian red hair of the mortal variation. Gold.

It had to be gold.

The Almighty's gold. God's gold.

Gohan's chest rises with each slow, agonizing breath. The movement lags. Everything feels exquisitely unnatural, as though Gohan himself doesn't move but the universe around him does.

As though his very existence is being orbited.

As though he is the true, one being.

"Mori," Gohan hears after eons of silence.

Languidly, he turns.

Ah, yes.

Quell of Revelation. The man who wishes to entrap him.

He looks humbled by Gohan's transformation. A streak of fear colours his eyes, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to Gohan's chest. Good. He must understand now. He must know who Gohan represents.

"What… is this?"

"Omnipotence."

His voice carries despite being a whisper. It transcends.

Quell breathes hard, looking over Gohan's form with badly veiled disgust. He's more injured than before. Gohan's transformation must have caused those pretty purpling bruises along now exposed arms.

And if just the transformation can do that?

Gohan smirks.

Zamasu had been right all those years ago. This transformation will change everything – and that starts from today.

The mind is not a linear place. Memories overlap like mounted papers, with their sharp edges and desecrated bodies, with swooping designs reflecting instances in life that are only there to distort the truth of the present. Gohan has always been orderly. It's his nature. Except, his memories, as Mori mostly, are his way to ruin, his clustered mess that is a shuffle of feelings and mixed motivations.

Becoming a super saiyan god – no, the Super Saiyan God – has changed Gohan's outlook. He embraces this mess. He throws his papers to the skies and dances in the chaos of power.

Burn the memories. With holy fire, he shall watch as he throws caution to the wind. He doesn't care. Simply, he is beyond it.

He is the Holy Being.

The Holy Super Saiyan.

Floating through the air, as though wind was solely created for him, Gohan avoids Quell's pathetic barrage. The poor thing is still trying to fight back. Gohan humours him for the moment because so rarely will Gohan get to test his power like this. He curls around each subsequent assault, aspic with limbs fluid like liquid, and captures a hand. Then the other. There's a satiating gurgle when his knee crunches into Quell's chest, followed by the even more satisfying spray of spittle and blood vomiting forth.

Gohan is swimming in mist. His heartbeat lazily thumps. He is submerged in such beauty; this divinity. He could sleep in it. He would happily suffocate on it.

When he blinks, he finds himself already burying another fist into Quell's gut.

The heat in his brother's eyes, the golden fury, is addictive.

Quell is not a glass cannon. He can handle a bit of rough play.

So Gohan lights up an energy blast into the nook of his stomach. Blue-white fire explodes and Quell propels back at speed into a bed of sand.

Gohan wants more from him.

"You should not hold back," he tells him as a result. Gohan is now standing over him, feet poised barely a few metres away. "That would be very foolish."

Quell hacks up a fresh glob of red, looking pitiable.

"Though, you cannot match me now," Gohan informs him. "Even with the aid coming your way… Why the look of surprise? Can you not feel Rixas approaching?"

"Damn it," Quell sneers, standing, "What have you done to yourself?! YOU IDIOT!"

A shockwave blasts forth and Gohan has to bounce back to avoid the worst of the blast.

"You're drunk on your own power!" Quell continues, his aura mounting higher and wider and more brilliant than ever. It thrashes upwards. It ripples reality around him. "Rotten, ugly power!"

There is nothing ugly about this divinity.

Ki splashes forth, molten, as gold as Gohan's own. "I will not let you ruin yourself!" Quell shouts over the rage, "Even if I have to slay the Almighty itself!"

Gohan grits his teeth, suddenly furious. Blasphemous. The Almighty is a part of him, a part of—

He tastes the blood before he realizes he's even been punched. Gohan captures the following leg however, twisting it back in on itself. Quell hisses and Gohan takes it his chance for another shot, backhanding him into the sky and chasing him upwards. He kicks him so hard that it echoes, a sound which could be confused for thunder.

When one brother snaps back, another falls forward. Rixas practically trips into Gohan's fist.

Here he is.

Gohan spins for the leverage before kicking him too. More thunder.

Though, Rixas doesn't fly backwards. Gohan has hold of him. He simply folds in two, into a bow.

"You could not beat me even before this," Gohan tells him flatly.

Does he really want to die this much?

Rixas splutters, blood trailing from nostril to mouth, when Gohan snags his face upwards for a better view.

"I will spare you if you leave now," he tells fool.

"Y-You feel d-disgusting," Rixas grits out, spitting red. "You think I f-felt bad during the Majin—"

Gohan headbutts him. That shuts him up, and Gohan throws him to the side like trash. It's all a very fluid motion. As he drops Rixas he has to instantly turn to combat Quell, throwing his arms up in quite the firm block.

Quell draws back, Gohan follows. He goes to step over Rixas in pursuit but has to halt when he feels the snag against his boot. The fool has him. Gohan turns to give him a swift kick but it's too late. A fleeting second is enough for Quell to retaliate. Gohan's sent hard into the ground as a result. Quell's heel is still buried in his chest as the impact crater forms around him. Rixas is lost in the chaos, Gohan momentarily winded. Quell aggresses once more, insistent on entombing him deeper and deeper into the dirt.

Gohan doesn't bother with physicality. He lets loose a charge of energy and the walls around sizzle first into glass and then into dust. Quell is forced back by the gale. Gold washes away Hell's red.

Spitting electricity protects Gohan's perimeter, and he's able to stand for a moment without being accosted.

In the distance, there's a wail.

It must be the Last One. It's been summoned.

…How messy.

The respite is so quickly over when the earth bursts open and Gohan has to dodge a newly emerged Rixas. A small blade glistens under Gohan's nose. He slaps it away and then Rixas, body swivelling in orbit when he senses oncoming heat. Only narrowly avoiding the jet of orange, Gohan prepares a blast of his own creation.

Who to throw it at? Rixas or Quell?

He rips the flesh of the energy into two, sentencing them both.

One blast detonates within seconds. The other disappears into the abyss, past even the dragon.

Gohan can't help but stare at it, at the creature that will provide him with his wish, his Revelation.

When had been the last time he'd seen a dragon? On Earth, most certainly. It would have been during those months after Buu, not long before his ascension to the Realm of the Almighty. Yet, he recalls not that incident but the one before, the one after the Cell Games.

He'd been a wish maker then. He'd wanted to wish back his father.

His father hadn't wanted to come back.

Gohan stares over the light, not having realized that there's a blade wedged into the flesh of his shoulder. He pulls it free before pressing it into dust. Rixas throws another of these daggers and Gohan destroys that one too, absently so, still staring at the dragon's divinity.

Your wish awaits…

"I know," he breathes into Rixas' face, hand tense over the entrapped fist. He squeezes, breaking fingers.

You are so close, my child.

Rixas screams as blood seeps between both of their fingers, spilling over like warm tea.

So kill our adversaries with haste. Use your newly found pow—

The world flickers black, there's a dull throb at the back of his head. Rixas is released and Quell engages him, sending another strike towards the skull, stinking of burnt flesh and Gohan's previous energy attack.

Two against one? Why, Gohan hadn't considered Quell the type to share.

Rixas returns as speedily as expected, joining the fold. Yes. He's always worked well with others, something that cannot be said for Quell. It's almost embarrassing how Quell shoves Rixas aside, how he admonishes him to little more than back up.

Gohan allows for this dance to continue. He bats Rixas away when he flies too close to the sun, though mostly, he focuses on his waltz with Quell.

Gohan has never before witnessed Quell dragging forth his full power but he's always sensed the depth of something magnificent within him. He wants to see this nakedness. Gohan thirsts to see Quell ruin himself with his own manna, to see his supposed leader choke on the power that should have been Mori -Gohan's in the first place.

He laughs and laughs and laughs at the idea.

The divinity bestows itself once more. You must make your wish—

"Soon, I promise."

My child, now is not the time to—

"Revelation is destiny," he tells his beloved Almighty.

It's immediate. There's a sharp screech that has Gohan buckle, his throat clogging on the air there. Quell spies the opportunity and delivers a brutalizing elbow down into the small of his back.

YOU ARE A VESSEL.

Gohan finds himself more wounded from the mental assault as opposed to the physical. In the sand, he coils into a ball, juicing the agony from out of his brain.

YOU ARE AN AGENT OF DIVINE WHIM AND LITTLE MORE.

Quell did not follow. He needn't to. His raining fire is enough.

Stand. Face the deviants.

Gohan last felt the sting from it back on Old Planet Geo when the attack had been used against Beerus. That'd been the dregs back then, the remnants of ambition poised against Beerus in the thick of battle. This is definitely now the full force.

Wincing from the headache, Gohan stands and studies the rain in hand. It could be considered Quell's signature. It's seldom used. It's too powerful.

As the dangerous sparkles descend in anticipation, as the world around glistens, Gohan is all too aware that he is not alone in his crevice.

His hand drops lazily and the blaze of Quell's energy choses now to pour. The worst of it strikes. Gohan turns to the small group, his eye line resting on the youngest.

Goten.

He blinks slowly.

Where he's supposed to remember the ache of betrayal, or perhaps the weight of emotional leverage one feels for a younger sibling, he feels nothing. Numb.

He cannot help but ponder however. Why is he here? When did he come here? He did not come with their father, of who fights the Last One. No. So for then, what purpose? To reason with Gohan? To beg, like Quell? To appeal to Gohan's mortal nature?

Gohan holds the eye contact.

Goten's fear is obvious. Standing either side of Shin and Eyrelle, he watches Gohan with the expectation that Gohan is seconds away from going over there and gutting them all. Perhaps Gohan would have murdered the kais had he the time, Eyrelle most certainly.

Yet for now, he must raise his shield.

Like before, his ki lined barrier rises against Quell's hellfire. Dark meets light. On this occasion, however, it doesn't buckle. It doesn't even flicker. The Holy Super Saiyan does not kneel before anything less than divinity, of course. He will not bow before Quell any longer.

The golden energy of his brother smatters against the shield like rain would a window, melting over it. The barrier is large, the pooling ki cannot touch anything beneath, only light the world beautifully and nothing more.

By the time the rain has finished its cleanse, Goten is long gone, the kais having escaped with him, leaving only an empty clearing smothered in layered clouds of sand and dust.

There's another roar from the Last One. Gohan can just about make the outline of it out in the near distance. It must be coming this way, attracted by the energy, hungry to consume more. He wonders if it'll try to dine on one of the kais… It suddenly screeches as though it must have just now suffered significant pain. Feasibly, it has because the ground rumbles when the creature falls, a frozen wind billowing from its direction.

There's shouting. A great chaos. Overlapping voices.

That's when Gohan recognizes the encroaching silhouette. In his hands, he allows for the formation of an energy drizzled blade. Just as quick as it formed, it now slices through the air, finding target.

Struck, Rixas stumbles in flight and Gohan soon meets him on the ground. He withdraws the blade and punches him hard in the nose.

Somewhere, the Last One cries again.

Rixas, too, cries when Gohan kicks him across the face. He skids through the sand, stopping only when he crashes into the awaiting pillar.

Sentence him to the Almighty. He must be judged. Alone, you are stronger than the Collective. The Almighty has no need for defectors.

Gohan doesn't even have the time to contemplate this. Rixas kicks out at Gohan's shin the exact moment Quell assaults him from behind. Gohan twists out of reach from both of them, pressed in retreat when Quell equips a ki blade of his own fruition. Humming steel meets its match in Gohan's daggered blade, with Gohan using it to hold defence just long enough for him to summon something bigger. The dagger snaps in two the moment he calls forth a ki shaped rapier.

The blades clash. Over and over.

Even with such feeble strength, the rapier holds well. It falls down to Gohan's superior welding ability. Quell may have been the teacher but it is Gohan who is the master of ki. Manifesting in this transformation is as simple as breathing.

That's why it's so easy to keep Rixas at bay. The shields pretty much form themselves. Any time Rixas gets too close, dark energy pushes him back.

Gohan can see their tactics.

He is better – stronger – than both of them. Together, they think they can hold him down? For what such a reason? They are not aiming to kill. They are aiming… for what?

To steal your Revelation.

That much is obvious, but what else? Do they have a plan?

It's Gohan against the world. He has not gotten this far by underestimating his enemies.

Then kill them, the voice seethes.

Quell shunts Gohan backwards just as his blade breaks. He skids backwards and then down onto one knee, panting. Sweat courses down his face as though it's the peak of summer. It pastes knotted hair against his cheeks.

When was the last time Quell was pushed this far?

He looks at Rixas. It's a similar state. He's winded and beaten.

Gohan isn't either of those things. He disintegrates his own sword, appreciating that this moment is coming to its close. His hands stretch either side, wide, as though he is embracing the world. Ki accumulates in either hand, electricity bounce between, and Gohan hears both of his brothers gasp. They realize. He is done playing.

They both shout his name.

They try to appeal.

But it's too late.

Burn all in Holy fire. Set ablaze this world and all those who stand in the way of the Alm—

"Gohan."

The energy halts. Gohan raises his chin, sneering at his latest opponent.

He turns to face him, vastly unhappy.

"Father."

Behind, a mountain of dirt moves. Oh. It seems he brought company.

The Last One has joined them.

---

One hour before.

Rixas captures the rockery with adept meticulousness, twisting around the falling zombies – sorry, First Ones – as to avoid their slimy claws from ripping a new one into him.

Horrid things. Gross. Ugly bastards.

He sneers, kicking an especially big fucker into the crevice below. Making his way back up through the storm of the creatures is tricky and involves a mixture of insecure flying and gymnastics. Finally, when he arrives at the top of the collapsed pitfall, he finds that he's more pissed off than when he originally fell.

Can nothing be simple with Mori? For God's sake.

He spits out a chunk of blood-coloured phlegm and then proceeds to the nearest vantage point. It's a podium; one that is charitably zombie-free.

Damn.

Where are the others? He can't see anything from here, and sensing anything in this sandstorm other than Quell and Mori's outrageous fight is near impossible. The sky above threatens to collapse with the weight of it. It even chokes Rixas; the levy of energy. He cringes as an assembly of blasts explode, racing one another and lighting up the dark in chase.

Eyes on the prize. He's got to stop the wish.

The dragon isn't too far. He should go there. That's probably where Goku is. He wonders about Piccolo and Vegeta. They could very well be dead – or consumed by Hell. He did warn Vegeta. That arrogant little shit. He's probably bitten it in his ridiculous bid to do whatever the hell's going through his head.

Rixas drags a hand down his face. Poor Middle-Parting.

The inhabitants of Hell are screaming again. It's annoyingly distracting. Whilst it doesn't bother Rixas too much – the darkness here – it does put a sour taste in his mouth. The crass evilness; it's a bit too on the nose. Haed is such a fucking stereotype.

He passes by where either a Sinner's Lake or a Blood Lake must have been. It's now excavated, along with most of the landmass, with it creating a crevice of filth and zombies that need to be batted aside in the journey. They're like bloody ants. Honestly. Just how many are there? And why the hell are they all flailing along in course of the dragon? Are they following him?

No, they're not. He pauses when he realizes the creatures are no longer pursuing him.

There's a screech near the base of the dragon, like the sound of a thousand voices breaking. It's reminiscent of the Ghost from that shit show Luxun's Domain. God, he hopes it's not another one of them. What a mess that was. Whatever it is, screeches once more, and Rixas dies a little on the inside at the sound and at the building sandstorm around it. He groans, wondering if he has to be the one to go and kill whatever the fuck it is.

At least dragon looks to be in good spirits. It watches down, staring at all the fuckery Mori has gone and whipped up.

Speak of the devil.

Mori chooses then to jet by, tailed ever closely by Quell. Two specs disappear into the black and half of the desert's sand follows them. The domain rumbles in discomfort, Rixas groans with it. Will this place even hold up? What's going to happen if Quell has to use his full power?

The uplift of sand welcomes another surprise. Rixas is lucky to spot him, really. A hand limply motions out from atop a grainy hill, green and unassuming.

"Piccolo, are you—? Uwah!"

He drops the hand, horrified, when he finds it without a body. There's a big hunk missing by the thumb, bitten away. Wherever the rest of him is can't be much better. It must have been the zombies.

"Shit."

He picks it back up, examining it. It looks like it was torn free.

"You can keep it if you want."

Rixas turns, heart in throat. "Fucker!" He gestures the arm into a point. "You scared the crap out of me. I thought you'd been consumed."

Piccolo smirks tiredly. He's a mess, though he's already managed to regrow a fresh lime-green arm beneath his rags. Rixas had almost forgotten namekians could do that, the creepy blithers.

"No other bites?" Rixas asks, referencing the arm.

"Nothing I have not already regenerated. Where are the others?"

Rixas throws an arm (his own this time) in the direction of the lightshow. "Well, there's Quell and Mori."

"Vegeta?"

"Dead, probably."

He releases a staggered breath. "Goku?"

Rixas turns back to the marching First Ones heading towards the dragon. "I'm guessing towards the mass of death but who can say?"

Whatever thing screamed before decides now to make itself known once more. Piccolo falls onto one knee, hands plugging those pointy namekian ears of his. Even Rixas winces. The screeching is definitely coming from near the dragon, along with grenades of explosions that pop off, one after the other, in a quick succession that lights the dragon's underbelly a deep red.

"Damn. Goku…" Piccolo makes towards the crimson, not a thought for himself.

There's a flash, blue this time. Yeah. It's definitely Goku. He'd recognize that streaked Kamehameha anywhere. It's cutting through the sand, a beacon calling them forward.

Rixas turns to follow after Piccolo, only stopping by sheer chance when something not entirely red catches his eye. He snags at Piccolo's ratty purple gi, drawing him backwards, hard and fast low down into the sand.

Piccolo fights him, at first. "What – what is? – Ah! WHAT!"

Landing, Rixas is similarly furious. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Goten doesn't even have the time to react. He's struggling against the tide of waging energy above. Quell and Mori have just shot overhead once more, the pressure clearly too much for the surrounding caverns. They're shaking, collapsing around. Goten is too busy avoiding a cave-in to notice anything else.

Rixas ensnares the stubborn shit. "Oi! How did you get here?!"

Goten finally does notice him. Black, wobbly eyes connect to his – desperately so, Rixas realizes. The kid's scared. "Rixas," he breathes out with immeasurable relief. God, he looks so much like Mori. That's why he brings him in close, hand firm against the neck. "I… the others," Goten garbles, "There are… voices…"

"How did you get here?" Piccolo demands.

Rixas gives him a comforting squeeze. "What happened?"

"They keep telling me to… I… the body… Gohan's…"

Rixas upturns the kid's head, checking diluted eyes. His vision is swimming. Hell's demons must be wiggling around in that brain, instructing him to do all kinds of crap.

"Deep breath," Rixas instructs.

Piccolo notices something Rixas didn't. "What's that, in your arms?"

It's a blanketed bundle. Goten cradles it like it's his most cherished possession, giving Rixas a bad, bad feeling.

"Goten, what's this?"

The kid pulls it closer, curling around the filthy rags.

"They're going to – Gohan – to him, they're going to kill him, with these, with the roots. The tree. The… I ran, when they said what it's for, what they—"

Rixas dislodges Goten from the goods.

Bones tumble free.

Fuck.

"What the hell?"

Piccolo sorts through the skeletal matter, jostling them with his foot, equally as perturbed and confused as Rixas. Why is he holding these – wait a fucking minutes, are these – God, no, are these…? They are, aren't they?

Rixas had been taken to the grave during his stay on Earth. The kid had shown him the awful thing, and even back then, Rixas had known that Mori's mortal body was bad news. He'd wanted to destroy it. He simply hadn't just to keep good faith with the mortals. He should have – he should have blown the fucking site up – why the hell didn't Mori do it? Mori'd known about the body! He's not stupid! Mori would have most certainly known about the repercussions associated with just… just leaving a corpse about!

Gods don't have corpses, or bones, or bodies or…

Rixas remembers Luxun. The people have always searched for remnants to subdue the Ghost. Any connection – any weakness – to oneself, as a divine being, is to be eliminated or protected. That's why the Collective is a weakness in its own way. It's something beyond one's own might that needs protecting. It's why Beerus is up the Kai's ass – because of the life link forced upon him. It's vulnerability.

These bones… are Mori's.

Why has Goten brought them to Hell?

Rixas suddenly feels immensely protective. He shoves Piccolo away, pushes Goten aside and throws himself in sprawl over the fragments.

"What did you do?!" Rixas snarls.

"No!" Goten cries out, scuttling to collect the bones back together, "They're gonna' kill him! The Supreme Kai—"

"That is enough, Goten."

It's the Supreme Kai himself, trailed by Eyrelle. He looks completely unharmed but that's about to change if he takes a step closer. Rixas stands in formation, fist poised at the ready. Goten is still collecting the bones whilst Piccolo remains a confused spectator. He's a bit of a Kai-lover so Rixas half expects him to hand the kid over immediately, but he doesn't. He pushes the kid behind him. He stands aside Rixas.

"What's going on?" Piccolo demands. "Whose bones are those?"

"Mori's," Rixas tells him, knowing instantly. The reaction is appropriately disturbed.

"How's that poss—? Oh." He looks about ready to be sick. "W-Why are they here?!"

"What the hell are you playing at, Kai?" Rixas demands of the snake. "This is dirty, even for your kind!"

"We are so low on options," the Supreme Kai says with the diplomatic sort of expression Rixas would love to smack off of his face. "Please, let us be civilized about this. This ritual may be the difference between Revelation's success and failure. Lord Mori's mortal remains—"

"You damn well know you shouldn't be playing around with stuff like this," Rixas hisses, "It's fucking sacrilege!"

"Lord Rixas," the kai says, slow, "Should Lord Quell fail in bringing Lord Mori down then by what choice do we have but to exhaust our avenues?"

"You're going to kill Gohan!" Goten shouts, tight against Rixas' side.

"It will not kill him."

"You said it would cut his lifeline!"

"No, I said it would disconnect it. There is a marked difference!"

The Supreme Kai is still forthcoming up until the moment Rixas shunts him backwards. Eyrelle doesn't bother helping him from the dirt, but she does remain by his side like the indecisive turncoat she's turned out to be.

"Disconnecting a divine lifeline from the system is the same as destroying it!" Rixas cries out, "You swore to spare him!"

"Please! I implore you to listen," the kai appeals, "The ritual will not kill him, not in any sense that Lord Mori would cease to be. He will live due to the mortal extension he reincarnated himself into, because of his existence as Gohan Son. He has a mortal tie, a hand in each pot—"

"Mori threw away his mortal life when he drank the Elixir – years ago! – so don't think—"

"Lord Mori still has mortal ties," the Supreme Kai says with intense certainty. "This ritual had not been by my suggestion, but Zamasu's, who knew very well what Lord Mori—"

"That's worse! You're trusting Zamasu?!" Rixas wheezes, and then turns to Eyrelle, "Are you hearing this?"

"Zamasu had been a lot of things, but I can put my faith in his ambition of self-preservation. Lord Mori's tyrannical devotion had concerned him too, so he put forward the ritual to me in order to strip Lord Mori of the divinity should he be too far gone. I'd at first refused him. I'd made a pact with you, Lord Rixas and I take my commitments very seriously. I promised to spare both of your brothers and I plan to keep my word as much as the opportunity allows. Truly. Please believe me." He's up on the approach again. "But the situation has escalated. I cannot promise Lord Mori's divine prowess when such an opportunity presents itself to end the fighting. Before his execution, Zamasu educated me on the matter at hand, on everything concerning Lord Mori's mortal identity, and if you just listen – all of you, you too, Goten – then you can understand that this ritual may be our best tactic. We can strip the divinity and only that."

"Mori is divine and only divine. He's not been mortal for years! Quell made sure of it. Are you deaf or just stupid?"

"The Elixir kills mortal life, but it cannot cleanse the mortal essence, the history, from the soul. The footprint remains. Should any other mortal drink the Elixir then they'd simply go to Otherworld. Lord Mori did not."

"Quell said—"

"It cannot," the kai stresses, "Erase the DNA of what once was. It is his heritage! Lord Mori spliced his existence! He will always have a connection to mortality in the same way he'll always have a connection to divinity. This ritual is much the same as the Elixir. It's about cutting that connection!"

Rixas realizes the play. "His mortal life is over already. If you do this ritual, Mori will die."

"He'll die a mortal death, yes. He cannot go to Otherworld because he drank the Elixir. He'll likely remain on the current plane or be extradited to the Void of Passing. He'd be limited to his mortal power, at best."

"This is a gamble," Piccolo inputs. "How can you be sure it'll go the way you want it to? How do you know Gohan's soul won't be broken by all this?"

"Because we are targeting Lord Mori's divine connection to his one true God," the Supreme Kai says after a pause, "The building blocks, as Doctor Hezk put it, of what makes Gohan Son Gohan Son will remain untouched. He may return to normal if the divinity, which is what is corrupting him, cannot reach him."

Goten dares to sound hopeful. "Will that really work? Piccolo?"

"If it doesn't harm him then—"

"It will not."

"So then the Almighty will no longer be able to contact him?"

"This is our train of thought. Zamasu and I discussed—"

It's as if Rixas' arm moves by its own violation. He backhands the stupid fucking kai into the dirt.

"Mori is divine!"

Piccolo moves to help the slimy bastard. "Rixas!"

"So it's okay so long as, what, Gohan Son, the bumbling Earth kid emerges from the fucking ashes? Why won't you people realize that that kid was just an extension of Mori? You're all so determined to quash this identity, to get your precious Gohan back! Mori is a person, too!"

He turns to Piccolo and Goten, feeling this alliance thinning oh so very quickly. He'll fight them if he has to. He won't like it but he'll put them down for his brother.

He glares at the kid, but God, Goten just looks wrecked. His brother's bones weigh him down.

On the other hand, Piccolo stares Rixas down with the sort of unreadable expression Rixas hates. "That person killed Trunks. He slayed Zamasu just to prove a point. He turned Hell against us. This person is a fanatic. Tell me, Rixas, is this your brother?"

Rixas clenches his fists.

"Is it?" Piccolo snaps, "If it is then by what choice do we have?!"

"Something's wrong with him! He's never been this bad—"

"Because the Almighty is in his head, or Lord Haed or whoever else; all these divine influences – we can omit from them from the situation right now!"

"It will disconnect Lord Mori from the Almighty," the Supreme Kai adds quietly, hand smothering a bloodied mouth. "Whoever is left at the end after the ritual, after all is said and done, will be organically themselves and without the Almighty breathing down their neck."

Rixas stumbles on the back foot, quite literally. He jostles against the kid, remembering he's not the only person present from the Realm of the Almighty. "Eyrelle? Do you even give a shit? You… for years… are you turning against us?"

"I serve the Realm of the Almighty," she says softly, "Not mania, my lord. Lord Mori is losing himself." There's a moment of contemplation. "Would… Do you believe Roarg would support him?"

He looks between them all, verging between horror and disgust.

Nearby, Quell set forth a slew of fireworks. It lights up the desert quite beautifully.

They're at a stalemate.

It's then that icy points dig into his wrist, curling there when Goten takes a hold of him in a bid for comfort. At this angle, Rixas can see the collection of bones from just under his nose, awaiting the decision.

"I don't know what to do," the kid admits, looking absolutely terrified. "Rixas… I just want my brother back. You get that, right?"

Rixas swallows the dryness in his throat. Shit. He sucks in that horrid dry air between his teeth.

Quell would never forgive Rixas if he let this fly.

He realizes something else. "This… would it break the Collective?"

The Supreme Kai does not look away. "Yes."

"No. We can't. No. Quell would never—"

"Lord Quell could reinstate it," the Supreme Kai replies quickly. "He'd need to bestow the privilege of accepting him into the Almighty again—"

"That would just allow him into the Realm of the Almighty and nothing else!"

"Then the Kai will assist him into reconnecting with the role, under watch perhaps, but Lord Mori would still—"

"You don't know that! You can't even stick to this promise! You are all snakes!"

The Supreme Kai is relentless. "I understand your dislike of my people, Lord Rixas, but it is time to see beyond personal vendetta. You are a god, too. You have responsibilities to the masses, too. If we do nothing then Revelation may be achieved, and then Lord Mori, influenced by madness, will continue his path of ruin until he destroys the entire system. He is too powerful – even Lord Quell cannot bring him down."

"Quell is the stron—"

There's an explosion of gold. Everyone turns towards the big fight, towards Quell and Mori and the blinding array of divine ki that steals the air from Rixas' mouth.

Such power.

He soars high for the vantage point and spots them immediately.

Mori… looks different. He feels different, like something possessed him and turned him rotten from the inside out. Sensing his energy feels dirty. It feels evil.

There's a roar from behind at the same time. Rixas doesn't know what's happening over there but it doesn't sound good. It must be Goku, and whatever's over there with him must be giving him a bad time.

Rixas looks between the two situations.

Quell or Goku.

Who needs him more?

Briefly landing, he gives the kais a once over. "Don't you dare do anything until I get back," he snaps, "Or I'll come to the Realm of the Kais and rip the rest of you to pieces. Got it?"

"There is only so long we can hold on, my lord," the Supreme Kai replies, "C-Can you not feel—?"

Mori's energy? Yes, obviously he can. He's a fucking titan.

"You're in charge of them," Rixas continues to Goten, referring to the bundle of bones in his arms. "You're the only person I trust not to throw our brother away on a whim."

Goten barely acknowledges him. He's fixated on Mori. On that fucking horrible power. There's barely a jerk of the head when Rixas shakes it out of him.

"And you, Piccolo, go to Goku. I'll join you when I can."

Piccolo nods, soaring high eastwards. Rixas goes west – to his brothers.

Rixas had been right. Mori feels fucking wrong. He's been poisoned by whatever the fuck this transformation is. Is the Almighty's doing? Haed's?

And worst of all, not only is it evil, it's horribly powerful. Mori bats him away like he's nothing within seconds of his arrival. This is worse than Luxun's Domain. This is worse than Old Geo when it'd been Rixas who'd been warped.

"He has been consumed," Quell tells him when they get a spare second. "I don't know where he has pulled this power from but… I am unsure if… I…"

Is Quell…?

God, he is. He's apprehensive!

Rixas wants to be sick.

Very quickly, Rixas determines that Mori is gunning for Quell. Rixas is simply the fly to swat aside. That's fine. He's just there to make sure Quell doesn't fall on the back foot, though it's easier said than done because Mori is no more than a beast with nothing behind the eyes. Well, he's unstable, so there's that. Rixas overhears him muttering to himself several times.

"Hellfire," Rixas instructs of Quell.

"I am not—"

"Quell, nothing is working!"

So Quell makes it rain.

"Go if you're going," Quell barks at him, hands poised over the shower, "Do not think I cannot see you looking over at Goku Son."

"I can't—"

"Just go. Save the mortal by all means, should it please you."

"I won't lea—"

"You want the Last One to consume him? Then we will have another mindless idiot to battle. Go!"

Rixas does only because the creature is imminent. The golden fire detonates just as Rixas crashes down into the back of the Last One's back(?). There's a flexible sort of quality to it. It absorbs the attack like a sponge would water, its gurgling body bouncing back without a trace of damage.

Limbs and faces and all that creepy shit churn unhappily. There's moaning. The mass of death isn't happy, especially when Goku gives it a matching kick from the other side.

Around and around, the pair looks for a sign of weakness, an exploit even, but come up with nothing as the creature continues to grow. First Ones come at it in droves.

Piccolo shoots his spiral ki blast at it, distracting it though nothing more. In that time, Rixas gives it a firm fucking boot to the head. It grunts, stilting forward and giving Rixas time to land aside the others.

Goku looks pretty well, considering. He's filthy but otherwise fine. A little breathless if anything. There are the already established wounds from earlier, though none nearly compare to Rixas' own.

Whilst primarily uninjured, he's frustrated. "Vegeta is in that thing!" Goku shouts at Rixas in greeting. "What do I do?"

"It keeps getting bigger and bigger too," Piccolo adds before Rixas can appropriately react. "Those First Ones keep launching themselves into it."

"We need to kill it."

Goku won't have it though. "We can't! Vegeta is in there!"

Shit. Well. His hands throw upwards.

"He's already a goner then! What do you want me to tell you, Goku?"

"There's gotta' be a way to get him out!"

"I warned him!" Rixas seethes. "We don't have time to deal with his mess and then that shit show over there! Quell ain't doing so hot!"

He knows Goku would have already sensed Mori's very disturbing energy. The man isn't that thick. Goku must know that it's all falling to shit, that his kid feels like everything wrong in this universe combined.

The cherry on top, Rixas thinks now would be the best time to make Goku's day just a little worse.

"Goten's here too."

"What?!"

"Yeah, so we gotta' hurry this up."

But Goku's inconsolable. "Why's he—?!"

"The kais," Rixas spits out like a bad taste. The look of betrayal crossing Goku's face is most satisfying. "They want to—"

Piccolo gasps. "Look out!"

A hand swipes out. The Last One is an ugly fucker; a shapeless, throbbing assortment of limbs that is all too fast. It must be the size of a house yet it moves as quickly as any of them. Still, more and more of the First Ones clamber into the grooves of the beast, feeding it ever more. They groan in bliss.

The thing bulldozes straight ahead. It isn't smart. Rixas swears he hears it giggle when it smashes face first into a cliff's edge.

"Haed's here. He wants to use Gohan for his own wish," Goku then tells him, suddenly at his side. "You've gotta' find him."

Well, that's just great. "With what time?"

Beyond, the world lights up gold from the Quell's energy attack. It's painful to witness. Rixas clenches his eyes shut and Goku audibly growls. The creature also lets loose an unhappy wail.

Rixas doesn't want to be that guy but… "You gotta' pick, Goku. Vegeta or your kids."

Still wincing, Goku grumbles out something stubborn and probably really stupid.

"You can't be a hero to everyone," Rixas pushes, "I'll kill the thing if you can't. So why don't you go find Haed?"

"He heard me before – Vegeta, I mean – I know he can fight this. I know he—"

The Last One stands and an entire beach's worth of sand cascades downwards. What Rixas supposes must be its mouth opens. It's a gaping void. A smell of death omits, along with what could be considered attempted speech. The words are too loud, too mangled together, as though the thing has taffy stuck between teeth it doesn't have.

Rixas isn't sure how he'll kill it. Ki would be the best way to take it down.

He says as much.

"I've tried," Goku admits, "Even with Super Saiyan God, my ki barely does anything."

Ki or magic will be the only way, Rixas is sure. The problem is… He looks back over to where Quell and Mori are still engaged. Only one of them could deal with this sort of shit.

Gold is fading. The rain has finally come to its end. Quell will need him again.

Rixas decides a plan. There isn't much else they can do right now. If none of them are suitable to bring down the Last One then someone who is will have to deal with it. He dashes downwards, curling around the beast and avoiding its musty grip, before stopping at the base of its back.

That's when Rixas gives it the toughest fucking kick he can muster.

The creature wails.

Then it soars.

It flies past Goku and into the dirt, cutting ground in its journey all away along the desert. Rixas helped it along most of the way.

Goku realizes the play straightaway.

His hands clap together and an especially large beam emerges, used not as a weapon but much like how one would use a driver. The golf ball doesn't appreciate the flight but fly it does.

They follow it, with Rixas continuing on further to where his brothers are, to where Mori is just standing, staring into nothing in absolute vulnerability. There's no way Rixas is going to throw that away. He dives, poised for attack.

In spite of this, Mori is immeasurably fast. He cottons on just so fucking quickly, and Rixas is dealt with how one might any other pest. The projectile cuts him down; one of Mori's manifested blades no doubt. And they engage for a short while, Rixas barely hanging in there until Quell tags in.

It's all so tight. Two against one should not be this close, damn it, yet still, Mori is overpowering both of them with meditated ease. The kid is cautious by nature. He isn't about to give them free shots in due to his own arrogance, and so he meticulously defends. There are no open holes. There is nowhere for Quell to exploit. And Mori knows Rixas and Quell about as well as anyone person could. In fact, Mori knows exactly how everyone here fights. Goku and Piccolo won't be able to drop many surprises on him.

Well, Goku still has that blue form. But would it hold a candle to this?

Mori's new transformation is impressive. He's ethereal. Beautiful and dangerous. Divinity shines from him with the golden lustre of a crown. The glow suits him, as though this had been his path all along.

Too bad it feels retched.

However he came onto this power, whatever the hell he did, must have been just simply not right.

Mori and Quell have their manifested blades now. Mori has always had the talent so it doesn't take long for him to outmatch their brother. That's why Rixas keeps taking shots from the side, though it's all so fucking fruitless. Those shields of his are impenetrable.

Nearby, the Last One screams something ugly. It's getting closer.

C'mon…

Then, it seems, so suddenly, everything had been for nought. Mori's hands come together and then apart, with a building of electrifying energy that Rixas has only seen a handful of times. Ashen green, almost white, hangs between them.

It's his finisher.

He shouts out for Mori to stop at the same time as Quell does.

But it's not them who have the influence.

"Gohan."

There's a long pause from Mori. His arms drop, looking intensely displeased.

"Father," he says to Goku.

Rixas' breath is stuck in his throat, so fucking thankful that they made it. The Last One bumbles behind, Piccolo likely to be somewhere in its orbit pushing it forward. It roars when it sees the potential feast laid out before it; four delicious fighters – three rich in godly energy at that – are ready to be gobbled up. Spine disjointed backwards, it makes haste at the most mouth-watering of the group.

Mori's expression would be amusing if not for the circumstance. He looks like to have smelled something particularly retched – which he might have because Rixas thinks he can still smell the Last One from over here.

"You brought a gift," Mori comments airily, "... Am I expected to exterminate it for you?"

"Yes. You deal with it," Rixas snaps at him. "Bon apetít!"

"That seems counterproductive."

"Kill it. It's your mess!"

The prick doesn't move – even as that thing gets closer.

"Mori! Kill it!"

Nothing.

Quell snaps at him too, shouting and only stopping when he's interrupted by the idiot.

Goku pushes him backward. "No, don't listen to them. Don't do it, Gohan," he stupidly pleads. "You can't. Vegeta is in that thing."

Rixas nearly strangles him. "GOKU!"

Quell smacks him.

"Ah." Mori turns to the monster, impassive. "I see."

Well, apparently, that… changes things. Rixas recognizes that malicious glint as his hands come together. He turns to look at Goku with suspicion, admiration maybe—

Already having realized the situation, Quell retreats, surprising Rixas and especially Goku when, in a flash, he snags at the latter's orange ki and drags him aside. Rixas joins them atop a nearby pillar just in time to witness Piccolo joining the group.

There's a crackle of electricity. It seems Mori will get to use his finisher after all.

"Don't touch the ground!" Rixas orders.

Quell hauls Goku into the air just as the energy flies. The creature's arms extend out in embrace of the boomerang shaped energy coming at it. There's a gleeful sort of moan as the ki strikes, the curvature wrapping around the Last One in an electrifying hug; lambent, spitting and hostile in an attack Rixas has only witnessed a handful of times. Crackles of distortion misshape the white-pale green until the energy becomes too much and implodes on itself.

Shit… What an explosion.

The gale that blows back is heavy with static. The once dry wind has grown humid and so the sky applauds with thunder. It shakes the very podium they stand together on.

Goku doesn't look away. Heavenly white casts a light over his guilt, eyes firm on the monster that just slayed the other. "Vegeta…" he says, "I'm sorry."

Rixas rests a hand atop his back. "At least he's not stuck in that thing no more. We'll find his soul after this. It's probably in Otherworld… or in Hell, in the upper levels."

Goku breathes out, nodding. "Right."

Piccolo raises his arms against the gale force winds. "What was that?"

"Khlōros," Quell answers.

"It's Mori's strongest attack," Rixas adds, watching the dust clouds hiss with electricity. "My advice is not to get hit with it."

As expected, currents of energy run along and through anything that's happy to conduct it. The pillar is no exception. It splinters, along with the others in the area, before bursting into fragments. Each does, with every chalky firework polluting the air further. Still, the ki continues to breathe down their necks. Rixas feels the lick of it beneath his boots as he hovers there. There's little surprise when he finds a fine layer of the bottom of his shoes burned off.

Piccolo is by his side. "And what's that form?"

"No idea. Something rotten."

"He recently attained it."

"It feels," Goku murmurs, "Like this, like me."

Rixas faces him. "Super Saiyan God? Are you sure?"

"I just feel it in him. I don't know how else I can explain it. It's divine energy."

"Mori is divine."

"Like divine energy then, but different."

"He's right." They turn to Quell. "It must manifest differently in those already divine, or perhaps those born into the Almighty. That form is the same as Goku Son's ridiculous transformation. I can feel the intricacies of the energy pattern. The foundation matches."

"Super Saiyan God," Piccolo supplies. "But how did he do it without –? Damn it, Goku! You didn't, did you? You didn't do the ritual back on Earth, right?"

"You think Vegeta would ever?" Goku returns.

"Then how did he do it?"

Rixas has a bad feeling about it, and by the looks of Quell, so does he. "It hardly matters now," Quell says, "Let us focus on subduing him first and foremost, and then when everything is said and done, we will water board the brat until he sings. Until then…"

There's a moment of mourning.

"I need your assistance," Quell gets out through grit teeth. "Between the three of us – not you, namekian – we should be able to contain Mori. Goku, please spare me the sting of disappointment and tell me you still have the energy to transform beyond this."

Piccolo scoffs but doesn't argue.

"I can do it," Goku says.

"And how strong is the form?" Quells asks of Rixas.

"I think he'd have a shot against you."

Quell side eyes Goku with his usual level of petulance. "I see. How fortunate I am to emerge unscathed from our fight, then." The sarcasm is of course lost on Goku. Quell raises a hand to his mouth. "No, not a word. In fact, stay away from me. You partner with Rixas and challenge Mori primarily in hand-to-hand. Meanwhile, I will break his shields and deflect his energy based attacks. Should it come to it, you can assist me in the latter."

"And me?" Piccolo asks.

"Find Goten," Goku implores. "You've gotta' protect him, Piccolo."

"Do it well because I refuse to consecrate another punk into our fold," Quell adds. "Take him far west. There is a warping pad beyond the cave exit there. It will take you to back to the Realm of the Almighty with the key. Here."

Rixas turns to Goku, incredulous. He's seeing this too, right? Did Quell hit his head or something?

"Thank you." Goku nods to him when the key is passed over. "Seriously."

Quell sneers. "This is not for you."

"I know."

There's a pause.

"I still want you dead. Just so you understand."

"Ahuh."

"Perhaps you will die here. That might be nice."

"Right."

"Mori will bury you if I do not. How does that sound?"

Rixas sighs. Oh, Quell…

"Do not look at me like that, mortal! Why are you – why are you laughing?!"

Rixas leaves them to it, floating lower to the ground to where Piccolo scopes out the area before setting off. The namekian gives one last look over to where Gohan and the Last One just were. The thunder has fizzled away; their momentary peace within the eye of the storm is coming to an end.

"Be careful out there," Rixas tells him.

"Right. You too."

"I'm not scared of my little brother."

"Me neither..." He stalks forward, preparing for take-off. "I'm scared of what'll transpire after today, how Gohan will react when he realizes what he's done."

Too true.

But Rixas will be there for Mori after all this. He refuses to wilt today, to die, to be yet another tragedy lost to Revelation; Rixas will conquer this alongside his Collective, including Mori. Mori'd been there for him during the Majin incident. He'd never given on him. He'd forgiven Rixas and laid himself vulnerable, offering his hand to join the Revelation. And all Rixas did was slap that hand away and break his heart, and by breaking that heart he made Mori colder, more hurt, more alone in a world of politics and monsters.

But what else could Rixas have done?

He'd been hurting then too. Roarg had just been killed, his brothers had been plotting behind his back, he'd had no idea to what was going on – it'd been an entire fucking mess.

And then, he'd met Goku.

Back in that time room, Rixas had given him a fine piece of advice.

"Only surround yourself with people you trust."

Goku's eyes had blazed. "Are you one of those people now?"

"Oh." He'd stared at the mortal he hadn't meant to befriend but somehow had. Numb, Rixas' own mouth responded with a truth he hadn't yet realized. "Oh, wow, would you look at that, I guess I am. Good for you, I'm a magnificent addition to any team."

By the Almighty, Rixas is so, so relieved he hadn't killed him during their fight on Earth. So fucking relieved.

He understands Mori so much more now. The man who raised him is inherently good and kind, and Rixas unashamedly adores him too because this sort of altruism is a beautifully rare thing only found once or twice in a lifetime. He saw this same sort of benevolence in Mori, years and years ago when the kid had been young, and then once more, in Gohan Son, the mortal who reappeared on the estate property.

Rixas likes to believe it still exists in his brother now.

Mori loves Quell, but Quell isn't good for him, now like how Goku Son is. Gohan Son had been a bit awkward, sure, but overall he'd a remarkable person; he'd be strong for a mortal, brave too. Smart. Good.

On Earth, Mori had flourished.

Rixas understands that now. Rixas… thinks – betraying the twinge in his chest – that Mori would have been better left alone on Earth. He would have grown into a fine man, married that pretty Videl girl and lived a life that would have been comfortable and happy. All it would have cost is absence from them, from Quell… and from Rixas.

God.

Rixas wipes at his eyes. Even the thought of it... He breathes a clogged breath.

Coming to the Almighty had warped the kid. It'd made him jaded. It'd ruined all the good work Goku Son had done.

Why hadn't they been kinder? Why hadn't they listened? Rixas had tried to be better this time around, even Quell had. Still, they'd not supported Mori properly. For God's sake, Rixas took the kid partying – a kid – when he needed help. Like, real emotional help. Rixas should have… he… he should have… Well, he still doesn't know what he should have done.

He clenches his fists, livid with himself.

"We failed him," Rixas realizes.

A gust of static pulsates in fragmented billows. There's a howl of wind.

"If you feel that way then…" Piccolo shoes scuffle in the sand. He turns a last time before taking to the sky. "Fix it."

Soon enough, he's but a speck in the red-black.

Rixas stares after him. I don't know how.

Goku's face from the time room appears in mind once more, grinning with the green joy only a pure hearted idiot would understand.

"That means you need to trust me too, Rixas."

Rixas breathes out a tired laugh. He's always known, really. He's always had a feeling that it'd come down to this, to Quell and Goku, not as imagined, not fighting against one another but together.

To save their kid.

You're so loved, Mori. I hope you fucking appreciate that.

No sooner than Piccolo's absence, does the next wave of this mania finds them.

Blasts – too many to count – have been propelled in barrage, and from behind them, Mori himself appears.

---

Most of his time here is just avoiding being blown up.

Goten splutters, leaning against the cracked wall of some old, fancy building. His chest bounces as he watches the latest bout of explosions ring out. There was that big one, just now, where Gohan killed that colossal, ugly creature with that awful attack. It'd been awful. His nerves are still wrecked from when he received the nastiest shock of a lifetime. Whatever that attack was nearly ruined him with all those electrical currents snapping out.

Because of this, there's a bit of a struggle with walking now. The Supreme Kai has had to help him a few times.

Goten watches him warily, his head pressed back against the stone.

At least the guy isn't trying for the ritual just yet. That telling off from Rixas must have set him straight.

God, Goten doesn't know what to do.

"You're the only person I trust not to throw our brother away on a whim."

How can Rixas put this on his shoulders? Goten wouldn't exactly be able to do much in the grand scheme of things should the Supreme Kai and Eyrelle want to take the bones by force.

Maybe he should let them. He thinks back to Gohan, or rather, that thing he's become. He'd felt so freaking gross. The ki alone is just… ugh. Sure, as cool as that transformation might look, the energy is something else. It makes Goten want to scrub his brain clean. It makes him feel dirty.

Not only that but back there… the way Gohan had looked at Goten, as though he was nothing…

He swallows.

How far has his brother fallen?

Beyond, the clashing powers recommence. His father is over that way now. He's fighting too, and so surely Gohan can't hold them all off, even with that ridiculous energy of his.

Maybe they could win this, right? They could outmatch him.

The Supreme Kai doesn't look entirely confident when Goten asks.

"The ritual is still our best bet."

Of course he'd say that.

Eyrelle snags at his chin, levelling his gaze upwards onto hers. "Lord Mori is the most cunning of them all," she tells him, steeled. Goten tries to shuffle out of reach but she's unexpectedly strong. Thin, fingers dig in deeper into his cheeks. "To have hope is a dangerous thing when men such as him exist. You must remain vigilant. You must exhaust all avenues, child. Do not think just because he is outmatched that we should do nothing."

The Supreme Kai approaches but she doesn't move away. "Eyrelle, stop th—"

"That's 'cause you don't have faith in anyone," Goten snaps at her.

"I see what that does. Faith? Hope? I put it in Lord Famis before my people executed him, I then put it in my fellow Kai, who turned out to be little more than greedy, paranoid murderers clambering for power. And then I put it in Lord Mori who turned out to be just as dangerous – just as disappointing as the rest. I all I want is justice. I'd hoped and believed and followed, but what has it gotten me?

"Blood on my own hands," she spits out, squeezing his cheeks together so tightly that his lips become a bill. "So, excuse—"

Her eyes widen.

"What is it?" Goten asks when she doesn't continue. A thud of fear chokes him. "E-Eyrelle?"

Her mouth parts and pool of hot red gurgles down over lilac lips. When she slips onto him, his mind runs into overdrive.

"H-Hey, get off of—"

She thuds to floor, dead.

Goten knows because he sees the blade buried into her back. He sinks down to his knees, so overwhelmed by the shock of it. They'd just been talking. How? What even…? He wants to shake her awake. But he knows it's too late. There's nothing left. It'd been so fast. He looks up to the Supreme Kai, sudden and desperate and actually really fucking scared.

He's a statue, staring right ahead.

Goten follows that eye line.

Vomit threatens.

Goten doesn't understand how he found himself here but, it must be that fate's out to get him because he can't think of a worse scenario.

Haed stands over him. His smile reaches his horns.

"Hello," Haed greets with the jovial air of a summer's day. "Have you brought these delicious treats all the way here just for me?"

Goten stares down at the bones. He… most certainly did not.

"You killed her," is all he can get out.

"It had been very easy. How could I not?"

"Get the fuck away from me, you overgrown goat!" Bottom now wedged into sand, he kicks out, sand splaying. Haed, if anything, seems to enjoy the sprinkling. "N-No! Get lost!"

He looks over to the Supreme Kai to see a man paralyzed by fear. This can't be happening. No. Goten can't go like this. He looks down to Eyrelle. Those empty eyes… She hadn't even known.

Goten squeezes his bundle. Gohan… Please… He wants Gohan.

And Goten knows that this is his fault. He'd wanted to come to Hell. He'd insisted even after Kibito – God, Kibito – had tried to persuade otherwise. But he'd not trusted anyone else with this then, and he won't now. He won't let anyone else take them!

"Give them to him," the Supreme Kai manages, sounding detached.

Horrified, Goten clutches harder. "No!"

"Give him the bones, Goten!"

The fact that the Supreme Kai's voice is raised sends a chill down Goten's spine.

"GOTEN!" He's shaking. "Give them to him… please…"

Haed is smiling as though butter wouldn't melt, claws extended. Expectant. It goes ignored when bony vines emerge from out of the sand and ringlet around Eyrelle's body. They submerge her and drag her down into the depths. Goten watches where she was.

They'd just been talking.

"Would you like to follow after her, sapling?"

No. No no no no no…

Goten stumbles up, bones clutched tightly to his chest.

"Come now," Haed urges, clearly enjoying himself. "Listen to your Kai friend. Surely, he speaks sense." He collects the blade from out of the sand, just from where Eyrelle had once been. "I may not be quite the warrior the Gods of Revelation are, but I certainly have my toys. I'd tipped the point in poison. Painless unfortunately, but so effective, especially on the Kai."

Goten sees that the Supreme Kai still isn't breathing. "N-Not the boy," he eventually gets out. "Let him go."

"Oh, but he is so rich in life. So young." Haed drags the point over the fabric of Goten's clothes. "So delectable."

When he showcases those disgusting teeth, Goten feels his eyes prickle. It's the dry desert, that's what he wants to believe, and not the fact that this hideous God is going to… going to… God, Goten doesn't know. All he knows is that it's going to be bad.

"HAHHHH!"

Haed, for the first time, loses control of the situation. He falls onto one knee beside Goten, blade lost to the red sand. His hand covers that of a wound on the back of his arm, and he groans. It's an inhuman sound, more akin to a howl than to speech.

Goten looks for his saviour.

Behind, two pointed fingers gesture out in reach. Green fingers.

It's Piccolo.

He scrambles past the stunned Haed, holding the bones in a tight embrace. The Supreme Kai catches up and together they fly south of the situation and away from that creepy asshole. Piccolo has to drag him to keep up. He's still shaking, still crying probably.

When they land, it's not far from the lightshow of the main fight.

Goten immediately sinks to his knees. Without Piccolo and his Special Beam Cannon back there, he definitely would have died. He… he would… like Eyrelle, like Kibito.

The Supreme is equally as shaken. Still, he remembers his manners. "Thank you, Piccolo," he whispers. "Goten, back there… I'm sorry. I just…"

Words aren't enough. People are dead. More will probably die.

Goten looks out over towards Gohan and his dad. Faith, he considers. Hope…

And then, he recalls the empty expression of Eyrelle's face in death.

His eyes close in absolution.

---

Quell of Revelation strives to thwart Revelation.

How farcical this has all turned out to be.

If he'd known how this situation would unfold then years ago Quell would have put a stop to it. He would have expelled the fervent, little voice corrupting Mori's otherwise acceptable brain, and then he'd find some way to disconnect them all from the Almighty. Truly, Quell forsakes it – he forsakes his divine lineage! He absolves himself of his duty! How dare it twist Mori so utterly? How dare it rip apart of the fabric of the Collective?

Quell does not care what power he draws from it. He would throw it aside in a heartbeat for his brethren, for his family.

First however, he will use it to tear Haed into pieces. Then, he will do the same to the Kai who wronged him. Goku Son should follow next because lord knows only how much that fool longs for death. He is imprudent, and so intent on dying at the hands of anyone willing to have at him like a typical, common harlot.

Even now, the way he positions himself against Mori is unreservedly inviting. Has he learned nothing from his time with Rixas? Quell sees the trademarks of his brother's wisdoms. Could even he not communicate a sense of self-preservation through to the idiot? Goku Son practically potters around, solicitation in hand, awaiting one of Mori's manifested rapiers to be inundated down his throat. Honestly. It is almost painful to watch.

More so, what hurts ever more is the fact that Quell needs these two – Rixas and Goku Son the mortal – to put Mori on the back foot. Three of them are needed. Three. How did Mori achieve such power in such little time? Quell had not long ago witnessed him clash steel against Rixas during the fight on Old Planet Geo. He'd barely emerged from that with his life.

And now, suddenly… for Mori to have become so dangerously powerful?

Quell deflects Mori's latest energy blast – the spherical, particle acceleration technique he taught him – and casts one of those mines Mori enjoys deploying himself. Mori manoeuvres himself wonderful of course. The mine only detonates when Rixas clumsily steps on it in retreat; a calculated decision on Mori's behalf.

What a good student Mori is.

Quell grates his teeth, planting several others, making Mori's expanse small and awkward to navigate. It is about reducing options. Mori contemplates all his avenues. He will have a plan and then a back-up plan, and even a back-up thereafter in case that should even fail. So rarely does Quell match against adequately minded individuals. Beerus is an idiot, Goku Son even more so. They cannot compare to Mori. In play, the battle of wits is engaging, fun one might say. Training with Mori had been delightful.

But it's different now. Quell loathes to admit it but… there is a deep fear wedged within his ribcage. Over the years, he played down Mori's small victories in their training. He'd relay the usual excuse that he'd been going easy on him. Mori, the humble airhead, would never notice Quell struggling to catch his breath or how, after gruelling sessions in the bitter winds atop a plutonian, he would have to break under the guise of explaining theory. Mori just learned so fast. He'd been born so naturally to equip ki and blades and even his own physicality. Everything he's wanted to achieve has come to fruition.

Mori is a true genius.

It'd been inspiring at one point, but now from the other side it is a terrifying feat to behold.

Golden embers flicker in otherwise dead eyes. Quell can still see the passion there, he can see the love that once burned so luminously that it then burnt itself out. Ghostly ashes. The remnants.

How can one reignite a burnt out fire? Fuel, perhaps, but in what capacity? Words of affirmation? Kindness? Pleas for mercy? What more is there to say to Mori? What more can be done to break through to him? What can they do to dissuade him from such a plight – feasibly from the Almighty itself?

Quell believes that Mori might be growing impatient. It's hard to tell with how that cloud of indifference mars the view, but the way he moves becomes ever swifter, slightly less calculated even, with jilting going all the way down to the footwork. He doesn't have the time to process, resembling an overworked computer struggling to run just too many programs.

But by heavens, it is impressive.

Quell breathes out a breath of relief when, finally, Rixas manages to crack a fist into Mori's gut.

Mori can only be impressive for so long, however. He can only draw so much power from the Almighty, and even less from his own exhausting body.

"Now!" Quell barks at the mortal, destroying the shield.

Goku Son is another natural. His perception is remarkable. Quell loathes to admit that Mori must have inherited something of use from him because he hadn't been this adept before. Once more, Goku Son proves himself that he is indeed a force his own.

That blue energy beam (Kamehame…rah … hah?) buds, bursts and blasts all in extraordinary succession with Mori taking the hit probably not as well as he would have liked to. He is deployed into a building of great standing. White stone detonates, ashy clouds rise. Mori disappears into all of it.

And because Quell has never been above kicking someone when they're down…

"Hyahhh!"

It's the sort of energy attack that leaves the use just somewhat winded. The balled, white fire strikes the exact place they'd last see Mori disappear into. There's quite the explosion, bigger than Goku Son's most certainly.

Quell lands beside them, smug.

Goku Son isn't even impressed. He stares at the debris. "Gohan…"

"Trust me, he has survived worse," Quell says.

"We'd know anyway – if he died – from our connection. The Collective. If one dies, it's…"

It's not worth thinking about, that's what it is. Pain. Torture of the mind. Anguish. Quell slaps him aback the head. "Do not be soft now. We cannot afford it."

Then, there's a sudden torrent of stone and sand, and following, golden cyclones emerge – three of them – from the rubble, Mori at the rear. Indeed, Mori has survived is he apparently cannot bare to be without attention for longer than five minutes. This is quite dramatic, even for him.

He draws forward at speed. Oh, that attack did have quite the affect after all. Mori is much scruffier now, with quite the nasty gash protruding his forehead. Blood dispenses like spilt wine.

He charges at Goku first, or at least, Quell believed as much. However, Mori's direction changes at the last possible moment and he throws a hand towards Rixas. From the tips of his fingers, something strikes out sharply. The blade is ki made. It extends all the way through Rixas' shoulder, emerging on the other side.

Quell attempts to dispel the energy but it takes too long. Mori's formation is too robust. The blade snaps free anyway, falling with Rixas after Mori gives him a swift kick down below. Goku Son is next. He's immediately upon him, a twinned blade at the ready. But Goku is ready for it. He snags the wrist and applies pressure until the energy sizzles, dodging left and then right when Mori's recently formed shields grow hostile. Quell does dispel these and Goku gets a clean punch in.

Gold jets back, flying fast and – ironically – in the direction of Rixas, whose back up and ready and more than willing to deliver a cross most ferocious. At first, Mori doesn't move, as though the reality of kinetics have not realized the situation, but then… there's a shockwave. Air slices in segments and Mori propels at a diagonal straight past Quell.

Finally, they are heeding results.

In wake of this, the aforementioned cyclones at last make their acquaintance. They are impressive concoctions of whizzing energy that would happen to draw one in should they get too close. Mori rarely uses these because they offset his own energy and they can be a touch unpredictable. For him to have deployed them means one of two things; one, he does not recognize his opponents as adept ki users – unlikely, except for Rixas – or two, he wants to shake up the battleground. Yes. This is anxiety. The others might not realize this, but Quell certainly does. Mori wants to shake it up.

Mori has impressive energy reserves but even he has his limits, and if Quell is feeling it then that means that Mori is not long behind. Surely.

There's a surge of molten ki from below.

Oh, or not. Brilliant.

Quell grits his teeth.

The cyclones and energy blend together with almost pretty abstractness. Golden fire spits out. The range is dangerous. Quell feels the searing cinders of ki fretting at his robes.

"I hate these things," Rixas breathes out, now at Quell's right.

"Why would he waste energy on those? They're just chaos for the sake of chaos!" Goku agonizes from the left. "How can he keep throwing out all these energy attacks?!"

"Because he is absurd. You must remember that Mori is not fettered by such inhibiting factors as common sense… or ki limitations, apparently."

Rixas laughs, withered. "Genius and madness are two sides of the same coin. Just like you, Goku."

Quell sneers at that, choosing then to step back and attempt to break down the cyclones. They're chaotic things, designed to put them off balance and ruin their already haphazard arrangement in bringing their caster down. They require Quell's upmost focus.

How unfortunate it is that Mori chooses to target him next. Quell barely avoids the swing, drawing into quite the pitiful block for when the next attack comes. That it does. Mori breaks through easily and rewards himself with another punch, fracturing Quell's collar bone, before then backhanding him with enough might that black is all Quell can see.

He doesn't realize he's hit the ground until he wakes only seconds later, choking on his own gargled blood.

The flaring of energy above has Quell shield his eyes. Great. A migraine is forming. He stands and a great slosh of blood seeps out of him. There's a misstep, a trip and Quell is back in the sand.

When was the last time he was this tired?

He coughs. His hand is wet. Blood.

And how many years has it been… since he'd been pushed this far?

Standing is a fight in itself, but he manages it this time. Despite being healed, the earlier brawling on Earth (combined with going against Mori here in Hell) has him admittedly struggle.

Quell does make it back up there against what feels like all odds. That had been a most awful blow, debilitating nearly. He wheezes, scanning the battlefield.

Goku Son is engaging Mori, Rixas tailing. Rixas is tailing. Rixas.

How is it that this mortal can keep on going when the gods tire? Quell does not wish to excuse himself with his busy day of bloodshed. He does not care whatever the reason. He refuses to be shown up by some backwater mortal!

Goku's nose crunches, cartilage most definitely dust.

Good.

All right, perhaps not good. Mori kicks Rixas next. The impassivity does not shift the once, even as Rixas cries out, even as his brother hurts. Quell is next in the conveyer belt, so he stands to position, lucky enough to capture Mori's fist when it finds him. Quell knows exactly how Mori exercises himself – so why is it suddenly so difficult to defend against him? Power difference aside, once the tactics are known, there is little in the way of surprises. He knows now that Mori will try to twist Quell's hand – and he does try, and fail – and so instead he drags Quell forward. A headbutt? Quell predicts that too. Still, he hasn't the power to pull back.

So, the impossible weight of Mori's skull slams mercilessly against his own. The migraine escalates. Quell sees double. The pain is excruciating yet Mori is relentless in the way Quell taught him to be. There's the definable taste of metal that Quell wants to spit out but he doesn't have the chance. He barely avoids the following strikes. Then, there's a clawed hand coming at him, energy balled centre.

It stops.

There's another hand around Mori's wrist that isn't Quell's own.

Goku Son snarls, pushing the energy backwards and into Mori's empty expression. The explosion is immediate. A flush of energy urges them all backwards, Mori included, with Goku having the audacity in taking Quell by the arm so they don't recoil too far from one another.

Quell snatches the arm free, only to realize that he can't quite hold himself up alone.

"You gotta' rest a second," the bloody worm tells him, daring to look far less injured than Quell is. "You look about ready to drop."

"Be quiet!" he hisses back. Quell remembers sentencing Goku Son to the floor many times with sheer pressure. Who does this man think he is? "And why are you not transforming already?"

Finally, some heat. "Like I haven't tried!"

Yes, as aforementioned, Mori is fast.

Suddenly, through the smoke, Rixas catapults their way.

A dull sickness must knock both Goku Son and Quell at once.

The lug has passed out.

Goku captures him mid fall, hands capturing beneath the armpits just before they dive together.

Well, how fucking terrible.

They are down to two.

Quell follows them low before Mori can. "Wake up!" he demands of his brother, giving his grubby face a firm slap. It lulls to one side. Lips are parted, blood in the cracks.

It is not Mori who follows but instead the tell-tale of pale green. It lights the clouds in its ominous poison. The weight of ki not yet distributed looms like that of a stormy evening, with crackles that fissure the sky and the anticipation of something dour.

Khlōros.

Quell starts to prepare the barrier immediately. They won't be able to avoid it at such a range. Perhaps Quell will be able to –

Goku Son has him by the arm once more. Rixas is slumped over the other shoulder, green casting him most non-favourably, sickly. Quell feels that rarely experienced anxiety. The fear. It all suddenly feels very real.

Mori could… in this, he could seriously injure them, perhaps worse for the mortal.

The hand on his arm clenches. Quell looks at him, nauseated, at the reassuring nod. The pitiful smile. The conviction. The understanding and empathy. Disgusting, how dare he –?

And then, they're gone.

All three of them are gone.

It takes Quell far too long to realize why.

They land near the curvature of what was once a Blood Lake.

He grits his teeth, his legs giving out like a fawn's would.

Instant bloody Transmission! The cursed, retched insult to divinity!

Nearby, Khlōros lays waste to the scape of Hell, her greedy, green electricity swallowing everything in the near distance much like how a snake inhales its prey.

"We're wearing him down," Goku tells him, and then gestures to Rixas' embarrassing state of affairs. "But he could say that same about us. I… I don't think he's gunning for Rixas like he is…"

Me… You, too, perhaps.

The explosion which follows Khlōros rumbles the domain. The screaming souls – the annoyances – of this prison squeal in agony, buildings collapse. Even the dragon looks moderately displeased.

Quell watches as Goku Son places Rixas down gently against a boulder, the earth vibrating below.

"You must transform now," Quell says at the risk of his pride.

Already, Mori will be coming for them. Goku Son's expression says that when his mouth sets into a grim line. Even he knows they have no choice. Quell will have to hold Mori off whilst the transformation takes place.

"You could die," Goku tells him.

"The more unlived your life, the greater your fear of death," Quell sneers at him. "I stopped fearing death long before you were even born."

"Think about Gohan! Think about Rixas! Don't throw yourself away!"

Quell turns his back, witnessing Mori's approaching aura. He closes his eyes, breathing out a tired, shuddery breath. "If it is Mori to end my existence then I can find acceptance in that."

"What? You can't… No! He'll NEVER forgive himself!"

"I have lived a life longer without Mori than with," Quell says quietly, "I hope he will one day do the same. We may not be mortal but we are not immortal. We are Gods of Revelation; beings who all will inescapably walk into the arms of the Almighty. Goku Son …I am no exception. Now make yourself useful, you tragic excuse for mass. Call upon that Saiyan power!"

"Quell!"

He doesn't chase Quell however, knowing full well it is his duty to transform into whatever ridiculous form he has stored away.

By the Almighty, how atrocious the thought… Quell is putting his faith into this man, into this mortal. To rid himself the sour taste, he channels his frustration into his next attack; magically called wisps which Mori's golden aura kills before he even lays a hand on them. It's enough to distract him at least and so Quell forces his body to twist in avoidance, thinning himself over the sharp point of a ki blast. Somehow, Quell has found a second or third, perhaps fourth even, wind. He matches Mori blow for blow, even sending him back in a skid along the sand.

Goku had been right. They're wearing him down, just a bit. He is not only winded from performing Khlōros (twice now) but also from the three-on-one fight he has had to suffer. Much like Goku Son, Mori's nose has taken a bloody hit – likely Rixas' handiwork. He's absolutely filthy. Blood and dirt everywhere. Not even that divine glow can wash away the damage.

Gold meets gold. Both tired.

There's a pause. A fleeting moment. Quell remembers looking into the same eyes under the Ivory Tree, connecting with them, loving them so instantly that his entire body turned to ruin and he embarrassed himself wetly. He cried then, he won't now. This is not goodbye. This is their pinnacle. Mori has always wanted this, hasn't he?

Quell can see that now, can see him, the god he has always wanted to be.

Mori can see Quell, too.

There's a disturbance in the divinity. He's crying, though he probably doesn't notice. Mori is always bloody crying.

"You do not want to kill me," Quell tells him.

The vacancy blurs with static. Electric currents kiss at Quell, but they do not sting.

"I will," Mori attests.

"Then why have you not already?"

"I will."

"Then do it. Your Khlōros missed. Khlōros does not simply miss." There's a snarl. "And you knew about your father's Instant Transmission. Do not colour me a fool."

Eyes widen, just a fraction, and Quell realizes his slip up but cannot find it in himself to correct himself.

Appropriately, nearby, Goku Son's energy can now be felt whipping up a storm. Finally.

Mori's head snaps right.

Oh, yes. There's something wild about it. The flavour of ki makes Quell's blood pump faster, his heart robust as it drums violently in its coop. It's a honing signal for worthy fighters to gather around, to challenge.

Mori goes to do just that, Quell dashes. He tackles him to the ground like some common ruffian.

The transformation must be completed!

Mori breaks from whatever stupor he'd been in, re-entering his blasted mind fog, kicking Quell away, scrambling almost, until Quell drags him back down. Quell snags him by golden hair, exposing the throat, teasing a breakage of the neck. If this were anyone else aside his brothers, this person would be long dead.

Mori remains empty-eyed and dangerous. And then, oddly, his robes seem to suddenly tear in several places beneath Quell. He doesn't realize until it's too late. Blades, multiple of them, have sprang from separate places out of Mori's body. The two from the thighs capture Quell deeply in the same place, with the matching pair of blades from the shoulders, whilst not as badly embedded, still cut into Quell unkindly.

Quell hisses but doesn't move. Blood slides down ki-embellished silver. It seeps into Mori's own wounds.

He breathes, hard.

God, Quell is exhausted.

Mori still pushes him however. Those blades whittle ever deeper and agony streaks throughout his entire body.

Quell's eyes close, just for a moment.

"Mori," he mutters, "I'm tired."

His head falls forward. He doesn't mean it too, as evidenced when the blades in his shoulders continue their journey through his flesh as he slips. His eyes are dry and bleary when they reopen, they cannot focus. There is no double vision, but there most certainly must be something wrong with them because now the desert is turning blue.

He absently looks in the direction of Goku Son.

Mori does, too, attempting to escape.

Quell uses whatever might he has left to submerge him into the sand. The blades keep them locked together.

"Revelation," Mori breathes in a panic. He's still blinded by the mania. "I – the Revelation – I must! I hear you! Please – just – I'm trying!"

"Mori," Quell attempts once more. "Brother…"

Mori is conversing with the Almighty. He is pleading; a most excruciating sound. It breaks Quell's heart – his black, rotting thing that has room for so little – and it makes him want to shake the fanatical idiot sane. Yet, the only thing he can manage right now is to kneel here, a temporary warden, until Goku Son deems it time to save the fucking day.

Quell laughs.

He laughs and it chokes his throat and makes it burn.

"Y-You dare laugh?" Mori questions in a hoarse whisper. "Revelation MUST—!"

Quell turns back to him, feeling ever the parent. "From even the utmost of terrors, irony is seldom absent, Mori."

Mori stares at him as though he doesn't recognize Quell at all, as though anyone else other than his brother has him pinned to the ground as Goku Son's ridiculous ki floods Hell. Heavenly blue, indeed.

"It is too late," he tells Mori, almost in one comforting manner. "Let it go."

Mori still hasn't looked away, still hasn't turned to the mammoth energy that had just been flourished from Goku Son's will.

So, It surprises greatly so when Mori actually smirks in his fog; one of dour amusement.

"Let… it go," Mori repeats drolly.

"Yes, brother. It is time to let it go."

He's crying and broken and Quell wants to fix it but he doesn't know where to start.

Well, he does, actually.

"Please," he requests, referring to the blades.

Mori still looks dazed but he seems to understand. There's contemplation, brows knit together.

"Two against one does not spell out victory for you, three should Rixas re-join the fight. You cannot best us now that Goku Son has attained this great power," Quell continues, "Please, believe me. Trust in that I will stand by my promise. I will help you achieve your goals in the right way. But not… not like this, not with you so painfully lost and corrupted by the Almighty."

Mori twitches. The Almighty proceeds to plague him. The parasite.

"The blades, Mori. Please. At least… the blades if nothing else."

Quell really doesn't think Mori was going to recall them but… he does. Slowly, the sharp points disembark his skin, stealing away the immeasurable pain that came with housing them. The relief is maddening. Quell slumps, his head pressing momentarily against Mori's chest.

"Thank you," Quell breathes.

Mori's heart is erratic beneath Quell's ear. He can hear the anguish there, the murderous intent of the Almighty and the selfish desire of a boy who wants to do right by everyone. When Quell sits up, he forces a dark smile as he drinks in the visage of his baby brother, trying to regain any semblance of control over the situation. Mori stares back with harrowed, underlined eyes that still feel more uninhabited then they should be.

"Mori—"

The pain returns. Tenfold.

Quell stares down to where the blades had originally come from. Nothing. Mori hadn't moved – yet that does not explain the black prick cleaving outwards from his chest. He turns to Mori for the answer, for the why, but he has nothing to offer aside from unwavering horror. The fog is dead. The replacement isn't much better.

He feels his own body grow heavy. Heat drains from out of his mouth.

Like rain, like water, blood drips as speckles along Mori's pale, terrified face.

What happened? Who—?

He buckles, weightless.

I'm dying, Quell then realizes.

He wants to laugh again. Hadn't it only been moments ago that he'd told Goku Son that he wasn't worried about such a thing? Yet, there is fear after all. Quell supposes it is part of the parcel.

When the agony rips from his chest, Quell knows the knife or sword or whatever the fuck it is to be gone.

The long, horned shadow behind tells Quell along that he'd been right about Haed.

The poniard… It is enough to even slay divine beings.

God.

Not like this. Please.

He raises a rickety hand to dark hair.

I don't want to leave him, nor Rixas.

"Quell…"

That voice.

His head buds up. Beside Mori, two out of place boots stand atop the sand, but never truly in it. Quell looks up and never away. A pair of gold stare back, so bittersweet. So jewel like. They smile despite looking painfully sad.

"It is time to go."

Quell feels his body shutting down, second by second. His breathing grows shallow.

Mori is fading away yet his words are not. Quell hears him talking at him. Whatever he is saying sounds frightened. He's crying.

Quell remembers that he'd been crying back then, too, when he'd collected him as a babe.

In fact, Quell might be crying as well. He has lost control of his body. The hand in Mori's knot of hair loosens weakly. This is it.

He's leaving his child.

To him.

There is enough energy to spare Goku Son – now blue and striking – one last look. There's equal horror there; premature mourning as he watches himself become the last man standing.

"Brother," Famis gently encourages, "We cannot stay."

I know.

Goku Son is the last person he looks at, who he communicates with, who he extends acceptance to, who he believes may be the only one to be able to bring Mori back home. Protect him, he wants to shout. Protect both of them.

But he cannot because he does not belong here any longer.

Famis kneels down and takes his hand, cool but familiar.

It is not frightful to die, but it is frightful not to live, not to be with them, his brothers.

And then, Quell dies.

---

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Here lies the resting place of my beta, Kags, dying a foolish second death after agreeing to being my beta those years ago. First, it'd been the Luxun Domain chapter and now... this (Thanks, girl!). Well, there'd been the Broly one-shot I did where I gave myself carpel tunnel so that ranks up there, too. Anyway, I digress.

Normally, I'd apologize about the delay but I've been writing fairly continually on this fucker. It's also more than double size of a normal* chapter. I think it came to 21.5k in the end, and my plan had been to split it but we decided it works better as one piece. So much happens this chapter. So many deaths. So many big moments. It feels like the action chapter. On my chopping block, we've got Byleath, Eyrelle, Vegeta and Quell, with the latter absolutely breaking my heart. Originally, years ago, it was going to Rixas to die in this moment but it's funny how arcs shift and allow for these new avenues. Eyrelle, on the other hand, has escaped death twice but Death always claws them back. She was supposed to bite it during the altercation on Old Geo - alas, the time and place wasn't right. Well, poor Byleath wasn't going to die at all. Oh well. That's how the cookie crumbles. Vegeta, um, unfortunately, his disposition just makes me want to kill him just generally lmao jkjk. Throw in Zamasu, Trunks and Kibito and the hit list ain't doing too bad. Fuck it. Let's add in Roarg, Brutil, Jivel and the other docs and kais too. Deaths ahoy!

So yes, Gohan's transformation into the Holy Super Saiyan has lived in my brain for such a long time. I imagine a more ethereal SSJ2, skin tinted just somewhat gold. Add some razzle-dazzle and bam. I've always preferred the simplicity of the design of SSJ and SSJ2. That fucking Beast form...

Not sure when the next chapter will be out. I'm flying to the UK in a couple of weeks for a visit. Gotta' show the people I'm still alive. I've not been there for over four years! Is it still really depressing and cold? Should I arrive with my own alcohol or will I be escorted to a Wetherspoons upon my arrival?

Anyway, thanks for the continuing support on this! A review would be super appreciated for this chapter especially. I didn't split it and hold it ransom like the devil in me wanted to so please reward my altruism haha! Let me know your thoughts.

See you on the next one (maybe this month, maybe next!)