Orange City had been beaming with Mr. Satan posters, showcasing the proud resident in all of his charismatic and smiling glory. A hunched old lady was waiting for a bus at the stop and just happened to turn at one of many Capsule Corps-sponsored television screens flashing the name of their supported candidate for the position of the King of the World.
"What's a Hercule?" the old lady wondered out loud, scratching her head. A bald businessman talking over the phone with a rolled newspaper in one hand put his call on hold to turn to the curious old lady.
"Huh?" he asked her to repeat herself since he only acknowledged the fact she spoke and not what exactly she said.
"They're showing all these ads for Satan, but what's this Hercule thing they're talking about?" the granny pointed at the ad flashing on a screen on the top of a skyscraper. It wasn't that the old lady had such magnificent eyesight that she could read it, it was more the case of the screen being that large and the ads that were running being that flashy and uncompromising.
"Oh, that's Mr. Satan. Mr. Satan is Hercule. That's his name," the businessman waved it off and, after realizing that the granny's business was no big deal, returned to his call.
"But then what's a Mr. Satan?" the old woman scratched her wrinkly cheek and corrected her glasses as if she could have ever misread something like that in the first place. "I thought Mr. Satan was Mr. Satan's name…"
"Look, grandma, this whole situation is very simple. Mr. Satan was Mark Hercule's stage name. He then had it legally changed to Mark Satan to avoid confusion and to inspire more hope in the oppressed population living through the Artificial Human conflict, now, apparently, he had it legally changed again to Mark Hercule or Mr. Hercule, I think…" the businessman, lacking the patience to put his call on hold, now just turned and tilted his head and stuffed one of his ears to only receive information from one side while he explained this whole naming affair.
"But who's Mark Hercule?" the senior citizen wondered out loud again before a flare in the sky made her tilt and correct her glasses. "Is that, by any chance, a spaceshi…?"
Before the elderly dame could finish her sentence, five building-sized cybernetic orbs smashed into the lively Orange City district, razing it in flames and crumbling it to ruin from the immense speed that they've accumulated during their swift, all things considered, trip to Earth from the mechanical star of M-2.
The cyber-pod looking like a ball of liquid mercury with venting holes fuming white vapor unraveled in a gooey, silver-colored mass before giving a distinct, humanoid shape to a burly humanoid with considerable bulk and baby-blue skin. A flash of golden light resonated through the fully formed body of the risen Commander Rilldo, leaving a yellow and green bodysuit where the golden reflection passed through as well as leaving a golden plate on top of the commander's helm, while broad, metallic pads formed around the commander's shoulders. In the blackness of the inactive eyes, red dots lit up crossed by red crosshair markings while life reignited in the commander's body and the whites of his eyes lit up white, substituting the death of black.
Around him, four mighty mechanical soldiers of varied colors matching the space pods in which they'd landed stood, transforming from the very spaceship forms they'd crash-landed in. The skies turned infernal red as metallic pods cluttered the entire skyline and their blaze of atmospheric entry gave the planet the look of desperate and bleeding heavens. Commander Rilldo merely admired the sight of the Machine Mutant invasion with an expression of cheerful awe.
"Good… Despite the notable distance, the advanced technology of the Machine Mutant race allowed us to traverse the space far faster than the centuries-old Tsufurian technology Saiyans used to traverse through the universe. What should've taken us months now took mere days! That's why it's a good idea to stretch our muscles and test our upgrading gear once in a while," Commander Rilldo spread his bulky arms out, cackling in the excitement of seeing the very purpose of his creation coming to life–war. Naturally, Dr. Myuu's plans made very little space for warfare, so he and his elite squad–the Sigma Force, were denigrated to being mere bodyguards of that overrated, slumbering fetus–Baby.
"Revel in fear!" a metallic, black, and blue robot resembling a walking trash bin struck a flashy pose by turning sideways and tilting both of its arms to point skyward as it turned its body to the side and diagonally upward.
"And watch your rears!" a cumbersome tank with metallic, black, and violet colors struck a biceps-flashing pose despite lacking the biceps to flash and leaned to its left.
"Because the Sigma Force…!" a short and round robot in a metallic carapace and green head and elbow guards rolled forward and then struck a shocked pose by the knees of the tallest member of the Sigma Force flashing his brawny arms.
"Is here…!" a white and red, most humanoid-shaped and aerodynamic out of the four of the Sigma Force Machine Mutants took it on one knee while spreading its arms up and to both sides and leveling its head to make a victorious V-shape with the aid of the spiky communicator antennae that looked like ears.
"Just who are you posing for, you buffoons?" Commander Rilldo crossed his arms and sneered at the handful of his most trusted and elite Machine Mutant soldiers. Most of the rest under his employ were mere drones without distinct abilities and lacking much innovation or upgrades that the Sigma Force possessed, as well as the up-to-date fighting AI programs, though they were cheap and efficient drone force with a hive mind that was a simple matter to command over. "Not an Earthling survivor on the horizon…"
"Eek!" the green short-bot leaned in genuine shock as the sensory input counted exactly zero survivors near their landing zone. "What a useless, fragile race!"
"Indeed, while I had predicted that there would be countless casualties in our storming of the planet, I had thought that they would be in agony and witness our pose as a final grace to them before their passing… It's a pity that they all vanished without a trace in the blaze of our fuel emissions…" the red-and-white humanoid mech pondered to itself.
Commander Rilldo's eyes wandered off behind him, where a dreadnought-sized tower of black and metallic colors smashed vertically down into the Earth's surface, producing a smashing shockwave that leveled most of the surviving Orange City, causing apocalyptic calamity wherever the catastrophic shockwave ring expanded. The Sigma Force turned toward the spiky cybernetic tower that smashed onto the planet's surface, shortly following them.
"Enough babbling, Commander Nezi, take the rest of the Sigma Force and Giru and track down these starry marbles that Dr. Myuu wants. The rest of you drones–set up the rest of the Destron Towers to flood this planet with Destron Gas as quickly as possible. Dr. Lychee believes this planet may be responsible for the destruction of the Big Gete Star. Let's turn this planet into a fine replacement using the Destron Gas," General Rilldo ordered, spreading his thick arms out as he marveled at the magnificent and efficient fighting force assembled before him.
"That's an excellent idea, General Rilldo," the garbage-bin-shaped robot pointed out. "Dr. Lychee will probably be mad at us for going behind his back and bringing the starry orbs to Dr. Myuu instead of him, so it'll be a good survival guarantee for us to plead forgiveness in surrendering a good replacement for Big Gete Star."
"Carving out a planet from the inside and converting it into one of the Four-Stars would've been such a hassle and would've likely taken fifty years, at the very least. That Destron Gas sure is an amazing terra-forming tool!" the cumbersome and thick-plated robot from the Sigma Force nodded in agreement.
"You heard General Rilldo! Ribet, Bizu, Natt, Giru, let's roll out!" Commander Nezi struck a pose matching that of his recycling-bin-like comrade from earlier, pointing westward.
"Giru-Giru!" a white and round robot with a red light for a face beamed a quick scan before opening up its middle and flashing a green and segmented radar screen, displaying all the Dragon Ball signals he had found on the planet.
"Wait a second, what about you, General? What will you be doing?" Natt, the shortest green member of the Sigma Force looked up at the grumpy General Rilldo from the side. "You wouldn't try to slack off and leave all the hard, starry-orb-gathering and terra-forming work to us, would you?"
"Natt, don't test the General's patience. He'll destroy you and that'll completely throw our poses into disarray!" Commander Nezi warned his subordinate. "Giru pinpointed the locations of the starry marbles, let's just go get them and wrap this up quickly. The one to collect the most magical balls will get a nice antifreeze bath and get to travel the space without getting icicles wedged in their joints!"
"Don't be ridiculous," General Rilldo stared off to the west with a grumpy look, without humoring his subordinate with as much as a glance of acknowledgment. "Dr. Myuu told me that Dr. Lychee had already tried scoping this planet out with clouds of Destron Gas. Someone or something not only defeated the Ghost Warriors formed out of that Destron Gas but also neutralized the gas itself. It's clear that the Destron Tower will need protection, and protecting key targets has always been my job."
"Alright, good luck with that. I know I'll be enjoying that antifreeze bath! I need it the most, after all, being so short, icicles comprise the biggest threat to my integrity after a deep space trip!" Natt turned to follow his team while a jetpack burst out from his back and spewed flames that propelled him flying off after Giru and the rest of the Sigma Force.
"No way, Natt!" Ribet objected. "My limbs are the thinnest, so the icicles pose the most threat of rendering them inoperative."
"You two must have caught a space virus from a black-market space station Wi-Fi. My limbs are the largest, so clearly, my icicle clusters are the largest too. If you're talking utility, that antifreeze bath belongs to me!" Bizu argued while hovering above his comrades and guarding their rears with his bulky frame.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk…" Commander Nezi teased his squad by waggling his mechanical finger in front of them. "If you must know, I possess the most articulate limbs with the largest number of mechanical joints, meaning that I am disproportionately more affected by icicles wedging into them! That antifreeze bath is rightfully mine, team!"
"Giru-Giru… Six Dragon Balls detected!" Giru signaled to the Sigma Force, leaving them stunned.
"S-Six!?" Ribet appeared to short-circuit from a sudden strike of shock. "In one place!?"
"Some Earthling must have collected most of them already. That must be why they've gathered multiple in one place. We must quickly find them and intercept them before they collect all seven. We were fortunate to land before they used the starry orbs," Commander Nezi observed.
"What's a "Dragon Ball", anyway?" the massive Bizu wondered with a low-pitched automated voice.
"According to the records kept in a place called "Capsule Corps", that has gathered the Dragon Balls multiple times, it's what the Earthlings refer to the mission target as," Giru explained.
"Earthling technology…" Natt cackled with a cocky cross of his mechanical arms. "So primitive that even our radar drone can hack into it and read it like an open book."
"What the heck was that!?" Trunks stared at the bloody skies clouded with smoke, completely stunned. "Is it another Destron Gas monster?"
"It shouldn't be Destron…" Videl mustered out a meek response. The clamor and the flash of this unexplained calamity befalling the Earth and the grim signs of what the two would see if they headed to Orange City, Videl's own hometown, left her equally decimated. No matter how much she tried to avoid freaking out in order not to terrify Trunks, she knew that the disarray on the inside was leaking out and translating through her body language. "Bulma-san said she had enough information to track it down and stop it."
"That's right… My dad's on it, right? There's no way anyone or anything can beat my dad now that he's surpassed the strength of a Super Saiyan… Right?" Trunks seemed to bolster himself up with some serving of false courage before turning to Videl for reassurance.
"He has to be one of the strongest fighters in the universe. It's hard to believe that he could've failed to accomplish anything he has set his sights on," Videl nodded, feeling almost a little grateful to the young boy for giving her some hope by reminding her that Vegeta was on the case of this whole Destron thing. Then why was her hometown brimming with a pyroclastic flow, flocks of cinders, and black smoke? Where was the sight of the skyscrapers on the horizon and the light pollution of all the tall ad screens?
Gone. It was all just gone.
A burst of clear energy aura surrounded Videl, and she shot forward and well ahead of Trunks. The anxious boy looked on ahead to the mentor to whom he could usually turn for an example of emotional maturity, reservation, and a sound, almost adult judgment of things. Whenever Trunks felt like he could slack off going to bed or eat all of his snacks in one sitting, Videl was usually there to remind him they had to get up early and look for Dragon Balls the next day or that his stomach would hurt and keep him down and out of any fights they might get into. The boy gulped down, realizing that his once-mature mentor was now in a state of extreme distress and that it fell to him to step up.
What could he do or say? He was only four and some years old! Trunks looked down at the shifting sighs of wasted fields with a perplexed look. He scanned the signs of destruction that spanned all the way across the whole continent from the calamitous landing and realized that things would only get worse from here on out. If he was to step up and calm Videl down, it was better that he did it now rather than later.
As intimidating as the thought of speaking up and comforting Videl was, as terrifying as opening up about his worries was, the more Trunks drew within the crux of what he was thinking about and feeling, the more he realized that the most dreadful thought of all he was experiencing at the moment was seeing Videl crying and breaking down. He already saw a version of that when she got injured and felt like a burden to their partnership. Trunks would've rather not seen that again.
"Look at all this…" Videl stopped suddenly with her crystalline aura popping at once into a flock of transparent sparkles. The sudden halt caught Trunks unaware, so he dragged himself further than he intended to before committing to a complete stop. Trunks took a gander at the landscape of decimated and broken buildings, utterly demolished or leaning to the side and about to topple, sunken underneath meters upon meters of dirt and construction rubble. The edges of the choking black clouds began to stretch over their heads as the devastating aftereffects of the impact expanded into previously untouched regions of the continent. "It's all destroyed… My home town… Oh, God… Dad… Navy…"
Trunks scrambled for a phone gadget. He pulled the widget's two ends aside, revealing a screen in the middle as the two outer protective lids scrolled open. With shaking hands, he scrambled through the keyboard to type in the home phone number to find out if his dad had left to stop the Destron flow into Earth and if Videl's family was okay. Bulma was involved with Hercule's election campaign and they were traveling to campaign all around the globe after all.
The connection was staticky and shoddy. Bulma's voice and the surrounding noises were choppy, but, given the horrendous conditions around them, it was fortunate that Trunks patched through to Bulma at all. Then again, if anyone had the know-how and the fortune to establish a connection that tight–it'd be the genius heiress and the president of the Capsule Corps herself.
"Mom, we're checking Orange City. Did dad leave to check the Destron Gas source already?" Trunks yelled out, struggling to be heard in the staticky connection, the problems of which likely expanded to both ends.
"Trunks… Orange City? Get away… Going on… Father left… Son-kun and… Hercule and the rest are… Cracking up…" Bulma's flickering image that kept on hassling and giving hell to the equipment all around her, trying to correct the shoddy connection occasionally burst through with choppy bits and pieces of noise.
The sound of mechanical rolling could be heard on the horizon. Clouds of dust preceded and signaled a mechanized brigade of futuristic tank drones that hovered above ground and were swarmed by round green robots with red lights beaming from the face screens. The drones didn't look like much of a military force, but the heavyweight machinery accompanying them sure did. Trunks became distracted by the sudden roll-in of the mechanized alien military too much to notice that interference had cut his call short.
He didn't notice Videl's mood escalating out of control at first. It was only when a violent surge of Ki burst out of her body as a white, sky-piercing energy pillar and forceful airwaves that threatened to sweep Trunks off his feet that the young Saiyan clutched himself to struggle against Videl's sudden power-up. Tears were streaking off of the teen's cheeks and rising into the sky, defying the force of gravity completely and her unkempt hair was matching the wild mood that her rampant aura had set.
"You…" she gnarled. "If anything happened to Navy while Chayote-san was petrified… When I was supposed to take care of him for her…"
Trunks didn't hear Videl finish that sentence. She vanished and the next time he noticed her presence; she was already right in front of the advancing Machine Mutant army. With a casual thrust of her fist in a standard chokuzuki stance, a violent boom matching a space typhoon, accompanied by blazing flares of exploding military vehicles and ripping airwaves, decimated the advancing platoon of Machine Mutants.
The boy gritted his teeth, hating Videl's decision to become an easy target for the back rear or the flanking forces that spread out across the wide and level-field wasteland and began setting itself up for battle. Still, he could understand his friend's outcry so with twin Ki blasts flickering in each hand, Trunks dived into the fray of battle, flinging them at the largest cybernetic military units he could see in front of him while readying himself to fend off his first extraterrestrial invasion.