King Piccolo panted, feeling strength leaving his body long after his battle had concluded. The Demon King pressed his wrinkly, shriveled hand to his chest and bent forward. Strain reverberated through his body. Veins pulsing with weak passages of blood became evident on his forehead as the demonic one belched a couple of times, coming out with mere pickle-tasting spit each time before something more solid, something rocky began emerging from inside him.
This couldn't have been helped. He had to reduce his power even more, that was an even greater waste, a true loan for his eventual successor but it was necessary. He was about to enter enemy territory and he had no idea if that fool Mr. Popo had come up with some wicked scheme to defeat him yet. He needed to be ready, he needed to emanate strength so it was time to see what his new generation of children could do. The egg wriggled further and further up the soaked with the contents of Piccolo's stomach mouth before dropping on the ground unceremoniously, marinating in the biological juices that soaked it.
Then the stony shell of the egg cracked, a massive shape emerged from within the egg, a demon so thick and muscular that immediately after he emerged from his egg it seemed impossible that he had ever fit there at all. The emerged child of the Demon King cracked his knuckles, his face resembled that of a frog in base features as well as the green coloring and the greasy skin that soaked him all over. It was a fatso of pointy ears and a razor-like bone protrusion at the center of its head, resembling a fusion of sorts between both of his now-perished brothers.
"Your name is Drum… Your King needs your help." King Piccolo exclaimed in a husky voice as the feat of producing a child still strained his body greatly, stretching his ribcage, his throat, and his airways when such a thing should not have been happening. It was as if his entire biology rejected the Demon's desire for heirs to the empire he would soon come to claim.
"How may I serve?" Drum wondered shortly after chuckling.
"You are the first child produced after my merging with Kami. You should, therefore, possess both of our powers, you are a mutant abomination that the Evil Tribe should reject and kill on sight, however, you will be the one to rule it, alongside my eventual reincarnation. For now, I need you to use your power to heal me," the Demon King declared.
"Heal you? I'm not sure I can do that…" Drum looked at his stubby fingers that crackled with bright electricity.
"Trust me, as my own son, your powers would be purely destructive, however, as one who is both good and evil, your Ki should have the power to both heal and destroy." King Piccolo grumbled at his son, looking bemused that his child didn't blindly trust his word.
"Alright… If you say so… Beam Ray!" Drum extended his hand, letting jolts of electricity pass it a couple of times before zapping his creator with them. Piccolo's body twitched and wriggled in pain as the electricity passed up and down his body but then the evil nature of the lightning became purer as Drum's desire to rejuvenate and not destroy his target began to define the jolt, covering up all of the injuries on the Demon King's body.
"Excellent…" King Piccolo examined his body in surprise. He had never expected that Kami's abilities present in his sons would be quite this useful and powerful. "Please accompany me on my journey. You are now my most trusted and beloved son, you shall remain in that treasured position until the end of my rule when the stars go cold. Not even in my future reincarnations shall my gratitude for your devotion fade."
Drum just chuckled to himself with a goofy grin. He was not the brightest tool in the book but Great Demon King Piccolo loved him nevertheless. He did not plan on creating more subordinates until after his reincarnation but if he walked on the God's Temple bleeding and bruised, he would just court more trouble and challenge from one human after another. For all of their damned weakness, humans bred rapidly and they were as numerous as locusts. Their resolve to survive and desperation to resist extinction only grew in moments of crisis, that much Piccolo could remember very well from his heyday.
"Let's go, Drum, to God's Temple!" Demon King Piccolo proclaimed as the two rose to the skies, leaving the devastated crater of Central City in their wake. Before taking off, however, King Piccolo glared down and let his eyes light up with scorching heat that he beamed down upon the crater, carving the remains of his rampage with his demonic insignia which read "Devil".
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, the gravest of news this early in the morning – Central City, the capital of our great world has been destroyed. We have absolutely no idea who or what might have caused this untold destruction as the greatest threat to our way of life – the Red Ribbon Army has been destroyed for almost a decade. Was it a splinter group of surviving Red Ribbon Army officials, we cannot say, from what is within our knowledge, nobody has made any claims or declarations. Of anything valuable amongst the rubble that could begin to help us piece together what has happened – only the kanji of "Devil" scorched and burning beyond the capability of the emergency services to put it out. What could this mean, for now, we cannot say, but stay tuned for further developments as we will continue to report on the situation…"
Before the news anchor could finish saying his farewells, the window burst into thousands of tiniest shards and a handful of thugs burst in, grabbing the television set and simply walking out of the shop with it in hand. The plug of the television set snapped off of the outlet in the wall as the thugs were fleeing the scene while the elderly owner of the shop was not there to defend his property. The man had fled upon the first echo of the news that the world government was utterly annihilated in one cruel act of destruction. Fled to protect his family as humanity had now received a grim reminder that the devil was real and that it was loose. Whether an actual demon flying around and bringing up just about fire and brimstone or the more figurative and philosophical manifestation of the worst humanity had to offer.
Shootouts on the streets as rampant gangs of thugs fought over each other for loot and power. Those same gangs elected their leaders and carried them over their heads, those same leaders quickly became an easy target for fire from opposing gangs only for new leaders to take their place because the glory of being in charge of what seemed like the entire world now, even if just for a second before one's brains got blown out, beat out fading into obscurity as part of the casualty statistics.
A herd of stockbrokers burst forth from their glass cage, a handful of them approached the band of bandits and straight out punched a few of them out with crazy, bloodshot eyes. Those that did not immediately get gunned down in the chaos, picked up explosive devices and high-caliber weaponry and decided to go out in a blaze of glory once their entire livelihood went out in flames. With the world government truly gone and only the sign of "Devil" blazing on for eternity in the place of the world throne, with the King and all his cronies dead, the stock market was officially frozen and all stocks rendered absolutely worthless basically overnight.
The world had gone to bed peacefully, ready for another day and looking forward to a night of peaceful slumber and rest but woke up to the end of everything as it knew it. Before its future reincarnated king even rose to tend to his flock, the world began tearing itself apart all by itself without needing any guidance from a demonic tyrant or permission for the humans to tear at each other's throats.
Loud grunts emanated from the Capsule Corps building in West City. Bandits hurled across and burst through the walls as a tall, Frankenstein-monster-like looking man in the Capsule Corps security uniform loomed over the defeated stockbrokers, bandits and murderers. The other security personnel rushed to secure the building from the unconscious lowlifes trying to loot and plunder the high and mighty Capsule Corp, a corporation that was quickly beginning to rise the most cutting edge and successful technological marvel of its time and managed to somehow pull through the coming apocalypse due to the ingenuity of its key figures and the broad shoulders of Artificial Human No. 8 who worked to repay the favor of Bulma and Dr. Briefs for removing the bomb present inside him.
People that had still not lost their minds hurried inside the dome in the center of the West City. Capsule Corps might have just been the only safe place in the entirety of West City however that was just provided that whatever calamity befell Central City did not follow suit onto the West City too. Further to the south-east, poor and devastated villagers cradled into a mountain that burnt in flames that had covered its surface long before the disaster befell the entire world. A tremendous colossus wearing bull's horns accompanied by a little girl loomed over the wickedness that threatened to invade their mountain and threaten the petrified people inside that had enough existential dread to comprehend to deal with the wickedness of man at the moment.
The roads of every city became clogged with flying cars, the monorail systems stopped functioning making the early morning trains smash right through the sky-high rails and smash down below as a fireball of boiling metal, glass, and steel. The agony of people using the public commute only served to worsen the situation of those attempting to flee to the untamed wilderness by car. The criminal element of various anthropomorphic bandits had now made their way into the cities, smelling potential mayhem and surrounding every city with walls of scumbaggery that awaited to further test the luck of those that had successfully approached the edge of their native cities.
The communication systems were all down, it had been one large piece of a sensitive card house ripped out that caused the entire structure to topple and now each city should have had their constituency take charge but no such thing happened for there was no government institution to enforce public power anymore. Every policeman and policewoman, every public official or politician had fled to tend to their own damn selves and their families, leaving it all to burn, leaving it all to end and those that did not quickly succumbed to the whirlpool of flames and madness that devastated the civilized parts of the world. There was no more king of the world, no more world security force and nothing resembling organization in the entire structure of the government, the only organizations available were those of the criminal element and even those relished in the resulting chaos.
The political issues that had merely simmered before the coming of the "Devil" now rose to the surface. The criminal gangs, as well as the equipped civilians, all began firing upon the anthropomorphic animals on sight, due to the violence of the boar and bear bandit gangs in the countryside, moving in on the centers of every city and village on the map. The violent and uncontrollable actions of the wicked few fueled persecution and bigotry toward everyone donning fur, fangs or scales, anyone that as much as waggled a tail found themselves on the bad end of a gun barrel or with a sword or a knife pressed to their throats. The violence against the common evil was a rare occasion on which the frightful flock of civilians agreed and worked together with the criminal element of the city.
The world had skipped a few beats and went on right to the end without there ever needing to be an architect for the destruction. In a way, the nonsensical nature of it all perhaps just aided the insanity of the rising apocalypse further.
Mr. Popo rushed out from the palace of the God's Temple to confront the rice-cooker bearing Great Demon King and his lackey. In the presence of this evil on his temple, even a genie such as Mr. Popo sweat profusely but he was prepared to defend that which he was meant to protect. He had not yet found the next guardian yet, after all.
"What are you two doing here!?" he bellowed.
"Perhaps I have come to take my rightful seat as the Earth's guardian?" King Piccolo bore his fangs upon the genie in an excited and mocking smile. Drum chuckled into his hands, covering his face like a mindless monkey beside his overlord.
"That is impossible! Earth's guardian must be pure of heart, you'd have to split yourself of all evil and that would not happen either, because evil is all that you are!" Mr. Popo pointed a thick, black, accusatory finger at the Demon King. "Kami-sama was good and kind. He used his power only to create things. He even gave humans back their moon when they destroyed it, you only use your power to destroy things. Look at what you've left of the world!"
King Piccolo turned around and stared at the world beneath his feet with closed eyes. Despite there being nothing but clouds and thick, rare atmospheric air up here, he saw it all from the top of this temple. He saw the fruits of his "Devil" mark and what chaos it had inspired in the world. The Demon King opened his mouth in pleasant surprise and spread out his hands as if intending to embrace his new domain.
"Ah! What beauty! Humans… I have underestimated your penchant for chaos and death. What glorious fire, what delectable death to justice you've all wrought. You've made your father very proud, sheep, at this moment, smelling these ashes of your making, we are all now Evil Tribe!" The Demon King laughed out into the sky, spreading the glee of the Devil for all humanity to hear so that they could draw inspiration for vile acts from that despicable, powerful resonance.
"Despicable!" Mr. Popo exclaimed.
"Don't get all soft on me, genie. I'm just here to enter the Room of Spirit and Time." King Piccolo turned around and extended the hand that held the rice-cooker that he sealed Great Ape Chayote in. "You should know who's in here, a secret weapon you meant to eradicate me with, hmm? Well, well… I'm almost a little bit proud, if you kneel before me and praise me, I might consider giving Piano's position to you…"
"Mr. Popo would rather put an end to you here and now!" Mr. Popo exclaimed and took charge at the Demon King. Drum blinked and appeared in between the Demon King and Mr. Popo, swatting the genie aside with a backhanded smack. The eruption of violence only made Drum lick his lips and chuckle. He enjoyed the destructive side of his powers far more than the healing side.
"Nevertheless, I will enter the Room of Spirit and Time and place this rice-cooker inside. Then, I'll destroy the gateway forever so that nobody can ever find this woman." The Demon King hissed at Popo who writhed on the ground, physical power had a lesser effect on the magical entity but it was still capable of stopping him if sufficient physical power was exerted into the matter.
"Fine. Mr. Popo will show you to the Room of Spirit and Time. You may enter it freely…" Mr. Popo stood up and dusted his clothes. Placing his hands on the flaps of his extravagant vest as he began slowly walking toward the Room of Spirit and Time.
"Hmm? I did not expect it to come so easily… I had thought that Drum would have to fry you a little bit more before you'd submit to my will…" King Piccolo admitted with a bit of disappointment to his voice. "Oh well… I'm not sure if it's that darned goodness of Kami affecting my dry, old heart but… I can't be mad at someone who submits to me by their own free will. You should obey me more often, genie, who knows, maybe I'll let you select the next guardian and let you two play your measly little game then? After all, Kami did jack shit the last time I ruled over the world…"
Drum chuckled to himself as if he could recall those days when, in fact, he was just born mere hours ago. The Demon King and his son followed the genie all throughout the corridors of the palace at the God's Temple and its endless halls for what seemed like entire hours but King Piccolo didn't seem to object, while Drum enjoyed the opportunity to add more hours to his lifespan. It was like the Great Demon King could smell the destruction that humans wrought upon this world while in this temple and he reveled in that destruction, therefore not minding Mr. Popo's stalling.
The genie stopped and opened an old, wooden door, encrusted with golden ornaments all over, pointing at the white void inside with an apathetic smile. It was a look that seemed oddly familiar to King Piccolo, must have been Kami's own experiences washing over him… King Piccolo stared at the fill of endless white for a moment before attempting to enter. Mr. Popo, Drum and the Great Demon King entered the temple of the Room of Spirit and Time and felt immediately the adverse effects of the room.
Loud, resonant bangs emanated in the distance, bringing shock to the Demon King's face. He could identify those noises, those blurs, and thuds. This was… Martial arts. He turned to Mr. Popo and picked the plump genie off the ground, raising his hand over the Demon King's head and letting it light up with lightning crackles.
"What is the meaning of this!? What has been going on here!?" he cried out in fury. Before King Piccolo could as much as blink, Mr. Popo was no longer in his grip, the Demon King just examined the torn shred of cloth that remained in his elongated nails before turning to the endless void ahead, where he had intended to hide the rice-cooker.
Further down in the white space ahead stood a pair of youths wearing torn, orange gi with the "Turtle" insignia on them. The boys were covered in bruises but they seemed happy and excited more than anything. The one of the duo with spiky, black hair on his head placed Mr. Popo beside him on the ground and pointed at the Demon King Piccolo, right behind him, a tail waggled, just like the one that the young woman had sticking out of her own bottom.
"Say, say… Who's that?" Goku wondered.
"It's him…" Krillin declared, setting his sights on Drum – a spitting, fatter image of the demonic spawn that killed him due to a nasty trick before. "It's the Evil Tribe, that means that the big, shriveled guy must be King Piccolo!"
"That's Great Demon King Piccolo to you, human!" Drum exclaimed, pointing his weighty finger at Krillin with a wicked grin on his noseless face.
So… You're the one who had Krillin killed, huh?" Goku looked at the Demon King with a look that slowly morphed from excitement of a fun sparring session and the crystal clarity of training and growing stronger into a simmering, controlled fit of anger. "The one who killed Yamcha, Tenshinhan, Chiaotzu, Bulma and the rest?"
"I also sealed your friend into this rice-cooker here too. So what if I am the Great Demon King Piccolo?!" the Demon King raised his eyebrow.
"I'm gonna send you flying for what you did!" Goku pressed his knuckles by his sides, newfound aura of power burst forth from his childish body, rustling his hair and sending the entire visible area of the Room of Spirit and Time into a hectic caprice of natural conditions, sending earthquakes across the entire surface, arcs of flames and showers of rain as well as turbulent twisters racing across the place while aurora borealis gleamed over the heads of the Evil Tribe and the remaining pair of Earth's defenders that would oppose them.
The final battle for Earth's fate was about to take place inside the Room of Spirit and Time!