Chapter Forty-Two

Interlude: Origin

"You are worth only your weight in death," her beloved Zamasu had once informed her, and nor would she forget.

Yes, she knew his honesty was a gift its own. She'd always appreciated that about him - even if it hurt, which it shouldn't because she hadn't the right to complain about such a thing.

She breathed for him. Served him. Wanted nothing less than to be nothing for him.

Zamasu.

…

"Your purpose will be realised soon, girl," he'd told her before this trip.

Would that mean - finally - she would be of use to him?

...

The Z-Sword felt heavier than expected, but she held the hilt firm within her grasp. She would not fail now. Not when Zamasu was so close to realising the dawn of the New World.

Not when she was one more step closer towards salvation.

She had been waiting for this day - the day of judgement - since the moment Zamasu had found her, SAVED her from the wretched existence that she had been condemned to from the moment of her conception.

…

Pan knew she was cursed.

Plagued by a revolting power that ran through her soul like a foul sickness that could not be cured. She had tried to control it, desperately, obsessively but all she had done is ruined herself further. Her body was littered with scars, some of them self-inflicted, most of them by Zamasu's hand. Every time she disappointed him, she would be rewarded with another. Every scar a reminder of her failures.

But she was not afraid of her fate. Fear was a sin in Zamasu's eyes and had thusly been torn out of her, squashed and buried as were any memory of her life before Zamasu. She was grateful, as what she did know filled her with such hatred that she could barely contain the Hakai that spewed from her Ki like an untameable fire.

Yet as she locked eyes with the very source of that hatred, the barer of that dirty disgusting power that had been passed down unto her, she did not see any ounce of hate or fear within his eyes.

Surely he was no different from other Gods she had been ordered to slaughter? Or any other lowly mortal she had watched disappear before her eyes?

It was an oddity that she had observed over time. How when the day of reckoning came, it was hard to differentiate between a God and a mortal man.

The fear manifested in their eyes just the same as their fate became realised, the warmth of their blood was no different as it wetly oozed beneath her fingers. The way their final breath was prematurely fired from their lungs emitted the same rasping chime as they cursed her very existence.

"They are unworthy," Zamasu had said when she had naively questioned this, and then he beat the rest of that impure curiosity out of her until she could no longer remember what she had done to make him so furious.

Out across the desolate crimson planes, she briefly pondered what made him so different to the rest. The haunted yet wide eyed stare that eclipsed his boyish features made her want to carve her fingers into his face and make him unrecognisable.

She wanted to feel his skin etched inside her nails, or perhaps in between her teeth should it come to it.

She was not fooled. He may look about as much a sweet babe as Pan herself, but it was the filthy decrepit creature between his thighs that had split her mother apart and raped her until she was blue with death.

It was the power he had cursed her with that had delivered the final blow and finally wrenched her mother's soul from the living.

And Zamasu had took pity upon her. She may well have been executed by the Divine Council if he hadn't, what with her destructive power so difficult to control.

…

When she was a child, he would tell her stories.

Stories of corrupted, evil Gods who sought destruction for the sake of balance. Tales of time travel, battles of Gods, of benevolent Kai verses unholy Destroyers. The misuse of the mystical orbs known as Dragonballs, and how they lived in a world that was not meant to be.

She learned that she too should never have been. She was an enigma, a glitch, a sin. Born in grief and raised in shame, moulded by scabs of hatred and frustration that could bring about the same destructive energy as those who drowned entire civilisations in blood and tears.

But Zamasu, dear Zamasu always had her best interests at heart.

"You still have a chance to live," he had once said beneath a dark starry sky that glowed red with the crimson hue of Planet Mars. "You can be taught. You can be a part of a legacy that stretches beyond the wretched destiny set out for you."

Oh yes, Divine justice was the only thing that could save them now.

"Master," she had managed to croak out, "You said that I am destined for death."

She had been young, so young. He had turned towards her and bestowed a dark chuckle.

"Yes, a wondrous salvation awaits you, one that an abomination such as yourself does not deserve," Zamasu ran his fingers carefully through her dirty hair, that had mostly been sheered down to her skull due to it being so matted with the blood that his counterpart had forced from her body moments earlier.

His touch had been welcomed, glorious but fleeting. He withdrew his fingers and rubbed them together, smearing her dirty blood between them. His nose wrinkled in disgust.

"You are far from achieving this, pathetic and weak-minded as you are," he had observed.

He was so wise.

"Yet you are more dangerous and powerful than any God in this cosmos realised. They will regret momentarily spearing you. Your use will be of great service to Perses, should you embrace it. You must spread knowledge of the New World and use it in the fight for justice - for peace. Once you have obtained the Z-Sword and Perses has executed his plan, only then will you be deserving of the salvation that you so desperately seek."

Hot gracious tears had fallen from her eyes, leaving track marks in the grime that marred her cheeks. He had let her cry, for once. A mortal quality which he despised. He had let her sob at his feet and kiss the ground he walked upon until her mouth bled.

…

Mars was a cold and lonely planet.

Red and darkness were the only colours she knew, until a deep and violent purple would flash across her vision and she would awake in a crater with destruction all around her.

Usually, an outburst would be triggered by strange dreams. Short, disjointed dreams of tall mountains under a deep blue sky, lush green and colourful flowers. Blurred, smiling faces looked down upon her. A strong chest that smelled of firewood and dirt, delicate hands that stroked her hair as she fell to sleep. Sometimes, someone would lift her upon tall, looming shoulders and let her try and touch the stars.

Fragments. Whispers of what might have been. Delusions of the mind. The darkness exploded out of her and ate away at everything she touched.

'Pan…!' Their screams came like whispers through the blaze of violet fire that surrounded her.

Zamasu kept the filthy mortal name that was given to her to remind her of her place, but he would never use it. The mortality within her blood was an insult to his cause, and he would tell her this every time her Saiyan tail grew back, brutally ripping it from the base of her spine until the blood would pour and it no longer manifested.

She did not deserve his mercy.

…

Zamasu's kindness had blessed her home world with the blood of her disgraced ancestors. There was no hope for them, so he and his counterpart had liberated them before graciously granting her with a higher purpose.

He took her under his wing and raised her to understand the injustice that had poisoned the fabrication of the multiverse.

"Do not forget, those who ruined your life also ruined mine," he had stood before her as she trembled under the strength of his counterpart. "You must be strong enough to obtain the relic, it is your only purpose."

Day after day, night after night. She was forced to fight this other version of Zamasu, the one belonging to her timeline. The one who bore the gruesome and unhinged appearance of her deadly sire. Flint like eyes would burn into her and make her skin crawl. He inflicted cruelty upon her until her power boiled her veins and begged for release.

Once, golden flames erupted around her and threaded through her hair. A blinding abyss. It was potent, rotting, like a mould growing rapidly inside of her until it exploded.

She had nearly died that day. But salvation could not be granted just yet.

"You do not have a choice," he had beckoned her into the light, "It is either face eternal damnation, or me."

Zamasu. He was everything. The sun and moon and stars. She would devour him if he died before her.

Like cats. Or some other small, helpless creature. They would eat their deceased caretaker just to be close to them. They wanted them inside of them.

Cats had the right idea.

…

Zamasu had righted the wrongs of the Gods of her time and sought after a beautiful paradise in which she was not able to be apart of.

Yet her soul was bound to the cause, to him. She had stolen the Diamas and goaded this repugnant version of her sire into challenging her. Perses' memories had been lost but Zamasu had assured her that they would be redundant, for they had already won.

"Allow the boy to chase after sordid dreams," Zamasu's voice dripped with a desire that was not afforded to her, "It will only serve to give him nightmares. It will mean nothing in the end, for the end is coming for him."

She allowed it, as instructed. She had spread the holy word of the New World so that those who worship the Kai could be saved. She had Destroyed the Namekians and found her way to the Z-Sword.

Pan would make Zamasu proud. She would never be worthy of his praise, of his forgiveness. But she would do everything within her power to fulfil her blighted destiny.

...

The winds howled from the storm of energy that rapidly pulsed all around the battlefield.

She could feel Zamasu's glorious power caress her senses and ignite the mountains over the horizon. It filled her up with a warmth she had never come close to touching for herself.

She wanted it to burn her until she was cooked from the inside out.

…

All of them should be dead.

Dead, dead. DEAD.

These grotesque depictions who dared to stand against her Zamasu, challenge him. This world had nothing real in it. Filled with arrogant lies that should have died a long time ago.

So unaccepting of their fate, she observed, feeling the vast swells of energies clash. They had interfered with what was written and tried to defy the laws of the universe at every chance they got.

She would help to relieve this world of their contestant abuse. This world would never know peace until they all ceased to exist. Every disgusting mortal, every corrupted Kai and Destroyer, the Angels and the Omni-King himself. They all will be scarified for the good of the New World.

Her gaze fell once again to her sire. Who had torn his decrepit, disbelieving eyes from her and looked towards Perses. His voice shook as he darted between them.

"Y-You… you can't be."

It was so funny.

He thought that he had outsmarted his fate. But she had already seen it.

Zamasu's wise words echoed in her mind, "What they fail to understand is that no matter how many timelines they create or how many wishes they make, what is meant to happen shall always find its way of coming to fruition. Destiny may change, but fate is absolute."

…

Her chest rattled from the onslaught of battle, agony replaced by an electrifying satisfaction that fled through every nerve.

His hot destructive energy had been snuffed out, and he was on his knees before her.

Fate is absolute, Pan breathed in, deliciously. The time of reckoning was upon them.

The relic suddenly felt lighter as she hoisted it high into the air. Yes. She will realise hers once she had delivered his.

She will rain down hot fire upon him until there was nothing left but ash.

A/N:

It has been a mad few months. I had a BIG uni assignment, family stuff, work stuff and general illness so this next chapter has been posted wayyyy later than I wanted.

I did have a much bigger chapter lined up straight after the last, however, changed my mind at the last minute which is why this has taken a little bit longer! I wanted to gain insight into Pan's story, her trauma, get her disjointed, disturbing thoughts across and give more insight into why she is so UNHINGED.

Yeah it's a bit grim... there really is no redemption for her.

This is short but sweet, an interlude I felt was appropriate for the story and for my short break. The next chapter is bigger and FINISHED, just going through. final proof so expect that out within the next few days.

Things have taken a dark turn. For Pan, for Gohan, for the fighters. I can't wait to share.

Thank you all for sticking with me. I know this story has been going such a long time (over 5 years!) but my life has gone through such dramatic changes within the last 5 years. It has been BUSY. But it makes me more determined to get this story complete, and even more thankful for all the love you readers have shown.

I'm still enjoying writing it, I'm so invested in this universe. There's probably around 10 or 12 chapters left in fact! :O

Again special super thanks to Bonsim who keeps me grounded and going. She really is a gem and her stories are nothing short of genius. If you enjoy mystery and Gohan torture - this gal is for you.

Much much love xD