The Middle Child

Chapter 6: Survival of The Wittiest I

By: TheRealBigJ

Disclaimer: All Dragon Ball Z characters and story elements aside from my Original Characters are created and owned by Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation.

... and uhh, viewer discretion is advised. The following content may contain elements that are not suited for all audiences. (trust me, it isn't extremely bad. Not where I'm directing my story.)

Railspeed Co. Mines, Shudder Rock Mountains

As characteristic of any cave system, the Railspeed mines were a large and complex network of tunnels, caverns, pitfalls, and the occasional underground ravines that dropped down into rivers of lava. The deeper one traveled these mines, the less vegetation there was, being replaced instead with more plain rocks and dull metals. Occasionally, there would be a deposit of crystals, with even rarer sightings of gemstones. Rarely were there any areas where light was present, making it exceptionally easy for anyone careless enough to fall into the random pools of cloudy water, intoxicated with heavy deposits of metals and minerals.

Within a long and tight corridor of damp rocky walls, the Trotter Lot made quick and sound progress. Being the forefront contestants to have delved into the mines, they had little to no trouble facing off anyone who dared to challenge them. As for those who tried, they were met with a swift fate, being left behind as a sound warning to the rest who scrambled down from the entrance. That being said, as the minutes passed, they experienced an uneventful trip towards their predetermined destination.

Yawning quietly, Ilet blandly stared down the dark and seemingly endless tunnel before them, having nothing of particular going about her mind. With their group being well informed on the details of the second phase, she had nearly dozed off numerous times during the speech. She had long lost interest in this phase, especially after she had checked out the other contestants who mindlessly rambled incoherent conversations. Unsurprisingly, they were all weak. Too weak.

It was one thing she hoped would change this time around. The first phase preliminary was beyond a cake walk. If anything, it was like walking through a swarm of ants with how many low-level saiyans were running about. If one of them had tried to sneak up on her during that phase, she probably didn't notice. Not like it had happened, anyways, since pretty much all of the weaklings were scared off by Heele's barbaric fear-mongering before anyone got even a few meters close to their group.

Filled with sudden disgust, Ilet's face scrunched up the moment the boy's name crossed her mind, an unpleasant feeling. In short, Heele was the very definition of an unbearable snob. Even with his monstrous brute strength, there wasn't a single feature of his character that she had ever liked. Frankly, nobody liked him. He was a hot-headed, self-centered fool that had a mouth louder than an infant wyvern. He was bound to be kicked out of the team eventually, something she had been looking forward to seeing for a long time—hell, ever since he first joined. He would've been a huge liability further on in the race had he remained.

'...It surprises me how Lace even tolerates him…' Ilet's eyes gravitate toward the girl in question, who was walking to her right side, right behind Welt, who lit their path with an energy sphere. Since the time they had arrived at the mountain region—hell, even before that—Lace had found great interest in staring at the ground. In fact, Ilet doesn't even remember if Lace had even looked up since her arrival.

A frown fell on Ilet's face. It made no sense at all, but Lace has been really affected by Heele's removal from the team. It should've been something to celebrate about, but apparently not for Lace. It just doesn't make any sense; she should already know by now the reason why he got kicked out, so why treat it so solemnly? For whatever reason, she's been carrying this air of gloominess since then… and that has left a sour taste in Ilet's mouth. This was completely different from the Lace she's grown to know—not the energetic, tough, and cheerful junior who had gloated for days after joining their group. If Lace kept this up, it could also seriously mess up with their performance. And frankly, though she won't outwardly say it, Ilet would rather have Lace not get kicked out from the group as well.

Blowing out an exasperated sigh, Ilet unfolded her arms. If anything, Lace needed to be distracted. That was probably the best thing to do first for her. And Ilet had a pretty simple plan in mind.

With quick motion, Ilet slung an arm over Lace's shoulder, roughly pulling her into her side. " Alright, get your head out of your ass already, Lace. I've had enough of your depression marathon!"

" Wha—woah!" Lace stumbled in surprise, unceremoniously tripping into Ilet. Ilet was virtually unaffected, though, and proceeded to roughly dig her knuckles into Lace's disheveled head. Something she clearly didn't like. " H-Hey, cut it out Ilet!"

" Nope, not until you wake up," Ilet responded shortly, digging her knuckles even deeper into Lace's head, " you've been sleeping for way too long."

" I said stop, dammit!" Lace grunted with a mixture of annoyance and surging anger. Not a second later, Ilet felt a hard elbow into her side, followed by another. After taking a series of agitated attacks from Lace, Ilet eventually let go. Stepping back, she smirked at the frazzled form of Lace. In any case, it looked like Lace wasn't falling off in strength anytime soon. She sure did pack a punch…elbow, or whatever.

With freedom returned, Lace stepped back and sneered, rubbing her head tenderly. " The hell was that for? I'm already awake."

" No you aren't," Ilet shot back, giving her own judgmental look. " You haven't been awake since you got here."

" …what?" Lace's face softened into a look of confusion, momentarily forgetting her pain.

" Don't kid yourself, Lace. We all know you've been bothered about it," Ilet continued with a sigh, shaking her head, " but it's been well over a half a month now. Wake up. It happened, it's done. As much as you wanna sulk, you've still got to put up your own performance."

Lace looked at Ilet silently, her lips pressed into a scowl. Ilet could see a series of emotions flashing through her eyes, though eventually she decided on a more mellow mood, sinking her head down once again. "... I already know that."

Ilet's left eye twitched. Was she still going on with this sulking? That won't do, at all. Raising a hand, Ilet smacked Lace roughly on the back of her head, getting a small yelp in response. " Then if you do, quit lowering your damn head. For fuck sake, its as if you want to get you head chopped off."

" Ow, ok ok, geez!" Lace hissed, bringing both hands to hold her aching head. Through teary eyes, she glared at Ilet with a stink eye, who in turn smirked coyfully. " I'll do that if you stop hitting my damn head already!"

Ilet raised her hand in mock defeat. " Hey, I was just knocking some sense back into you. You've been lacking some of it for some time now."

" Wh—you need to get knocked up, dammit!"

…. Ho? A sly grin grew on Ilet's face. She was going to make a lot of use of this one. Once more, she slung an arm over Lace, this time in a more playful manner. She put a hand on her hip and tilted her head slightly. " Sorry, Lace, but I'll give it a few years before that ever happens."

" … what do you…" Lace blinked in confusion at Ilet's vague comment, though it didn't take long for the dots to connect in her head. Uncharacteristically, her face quickly exploded into a shade of red. Struggling to find her voice, her mouth began to babble incoherently. Ilet stifled her laughs at the reaction, much to Lace's dismay.

With embarrassment, Lace gnawed her teeth before roughly socking Ilet on the shoulder. " E-Ew, no! The hell?! I didn't mean it like that!"

Ilet tried but failed to hold back her laugh. While in a giggling fit, she pretended to wipe tears from her eyes. " What's wrong, Lace? I was just being honest."

" I did not need to hear any of that," Lace huffed with a hint of indignation. Suddenly, her face turned sickly pale. " Oh fuck, now I'm seeing it… Ugh…"

This was the breaking point for Ilet. Her laughter carried throughout the tunnel, eventually causing Welt to glance back at the two with an exasperated look.

" Cut it out you two. Your ruckus is gonna leak our position."

Ilet immediately cut her laughter down, her expression making a complete one-eighty into a deadpan look. " Oh, shut it. You ain't part of this conversation, smartass."

" That's besides the point. Just keep your mouth shut…" Welt grumbled, returning his attention back to the front.

Ilet stared at Welt annoyingly for a moment before sighing, freeing Lace from her grip in the process. " Whatever, Mr. Serious..."

Sure, while Welt did have a point—one that she could argue that really didn't affect them much—it only solidified his second place on the list of the most annoying saiyans she knew. Maybe third if she was super generous. Definitely first place in the most annoying smartass, though.

But while her fun was over, at the very least she had accomplished her goal. Lace was back to her usual self now… well, as back as she could be right now. She still had that pensive look on her face, and she might go back to her head-down thing at any second. Though that's where Ilet's amazing technique of "knocking saiyans back into reality" would come to play, of course.

Now that Welt decidedly announced himself, a thought crossed her mind. Ilet put her arms on the back of her head while staring off to nowhere in particular. " So… how long are we going to walk for? It's been well over half an hour and I'm still seeing rocks and more rocks."

" As long as you'd expect, Ilet," Welt said cryptically.

" The fuck is that supposed to mean? Give us a direct answer."

Welt sighed, clearly not wanting to clarify any further. " Three hours."

" Three hours?!" Lace shouted out, her eyes widened. Ilet's eyes silently widen at the revelation. He had not said anything about this previously. " I thought you said this was going to be a quick trip. The hell are you taking us, Welt?!"

" Like I had said previously, we're going to our supply location," Welt said, glazing back at the two girls, " I placed it some distance from the main tunnel system, for obvious reasons."

" …But a three hour trip?" Ilet snorted, shaking her head. " You could've brought this 'supply location' a bit closer, no? We're only staying here for three days, after all. I'd rather not spend most of that time walking back and forth."

" Yeah, me too," Lace tagged on, crossing her arms with a frown, " hell, we don't even need any supplies. It's three days, this'll be a breeze."

" We aren't staying for three days."

"...huh?" Ilet stared blankly at the unannounced comment from their leader, who had been walking in front of her quietly throughout their trip. Not staying for three days? Is he planning on them leaving earlier than instructed?

" What… What do you mean, boss?" Lace asked cautiously. " We can't leave until seventy two hours, or else we're disqualified.

" That's not what he meant, Lace," Welt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, " the phase proctors omitted some information. This is just the grace period before the full time duration of this phase starts."

" …You never said anything about that beforehand," Ilet noted with narrow eyes.

" Obviously. We'd get disqualified if they heard me say anything about that," Welt hummed, " it's all classified information, punished by death if leaked."

Well, this was an interesting turn of events. This would mean that they'll be staying in these rocky dirt tunnels for longer than they'd plan. Ilet… wasn't sure how to think of it, but the term "pain in the ass" was the first thing to come to mind.

Lace quirked her brow skeptically at Welts. " Yous say that but… you still have your scouter on."

"..."

"..."

He hummed. " It's a custom model."

" Bullshit," Ilet snorted.

" Gah... Ok, one—huff—two… hrnn!"

Enveloped in a dark, damp, and foggy void, he slowly and shakingly stretched his left arm, his bloodied fingers painfully gripping onto the cold, wet, and rocky surface face of the endless wall. Breathing slowly, he leaned his head onto the rough and rigid cliff, pressing his teeth hard in an attempt to ignore the searing pain within his hands, which spread down his arms and then into his throbbing head. After a moment, he inhaled sharply, and with a powerful but controlled pull, he lifted himself up, quickly lodging his boot into one of the numerous crevices covering the vertical cliffside.

Onin doesn't really know what happened after he was kicked off the ledge. His world became a spiraling show of earthly and warm colors, which quickly turned into a dark and very damp void. Everything from there on, everything he had managed to do, was simply his body being on autopilot. Whether through sheer luck or not, he had somehow managed to catch himself from falling any further than he already went.

In exchange, however, a burning pain exploded in his hands and fingers as they had worked hard as the only brakes to his descent. It had taken him a woefully long time before he had pushed to ignore the pain and used his boots to aid his deceleration. He had eventually managed to stop, hopelessly dangling on for dear life. He had managed to survive.

It took everything in him to push against the pain and not let go. He had never experienced such pain like this before, not even throughout his past ordeals. Perhaps it was because of the longevity of this pain that made it so unbearably worse than anything else he's ever felt, but it was clear he could not think properly with its presence. One thought that had constantly remained, however, was that if he let go, there was no other second chance. His fate would be left to whatever was at the bottom of this dark abyss.

As his right arm shakingly reached out to feel for the next indent to grab hold of, he felt the warm trails of his blood trailing down his arm. His ears were muffled by the loud thumps of his heart beat, a piercing headache slamming his forehead. It hurt, it hurt so much, but he gnawed his teeth and scrunched his nose. He had to keep pushing, using everything he had to climb up. It was his only way out of this unfortunate mess.

For what felt like an eternity, Onin continued his slow and painful ascent back to the surface. He had lost a sense of how long he climbed, but he never stopped climbing through this dark and wet void. The foggy air was densely humid, with droplets of water coating his body and mixing with his own sweat, trickling down his skin like rain droplets on a window. Occasionally, a shower of water would wash at him with powerful winds, testing his grip on the cliff. It felt as if he were in the heart of a storm cloud. Or rather, due to the high temperature of the air, it was as if he were climbing through a large and steamy hot shower.

Consequently, this made the cliffside very slippery as well. Without warning, his left foot slipped off from the crevice on the wall and pulled half of his body with it. Onin squeezed his hands onto the rocky wall, biting back a yell as the rocks dug into his damaged hands. Successfully, he had stopped his body's fatal motion. Left dangling like a broken branch of a tree, Onin steadied his breath. He squeezed his eyes tightly, and with great effort, pulled his dangling leg back onto the wall, fortunately escaping a nye-fatal fall.

Even with such a mishap, which he experienced frequently in his ascent, he continued to climb up. With luck, he would make it out of this void and reach a point here he could rest. It was a fleeting hope, though… one that he tried to hold on to as he pushed through. Maybe it was because of this resilient will that he was forcing on himself that Onin's blurry eyes noticed the glimpse of a cavity in the rocky cliffside, one just a few feet to his side. He had given himself no luxury of contemplation about what it was and immediately made his way towards it.

True to his assumption, after haphazardly trekking the slippery vertical slope, Onin had found the entrance of a pitch dark cave. He unceremoniously threw himself inside without hesitation, rolling deep into the cave without care of what could be within. He came to an eventual stop, his back on the rigid and uneven stone floor as he stared up to a non-existent ceiling. The only light was the low dim of the foggy void, a light that long proven to fail in aiding his sight. He was essentially floating in a dark world, but this did not concern Onin in the slightest. To him, this was the saving grace to his aching and pained body.

His shaking breaths were the spotlight of his attention. At the very least, he wanted to pull his mind away from the pains in his hands, arms, and generally his entire body. But every wave crashed through him and ruthlessly reminded him of how injured he was. He needed to treat this problem immediately, or else he may face a very short future.

With a slow and steady pace, Onin lifted himself up onto a sitting position, overbearingly cautious not to use his hands. When he managed to sit up, he used his chin to push the straps of his bag off his shoulders. As the straps slid down his arms, he carefully maneuvered them over and around his hands, trying his best to avoid touching them. Once the bag was off, he silently shuffled in the dark until he was facing the bag. It took him a while to feel around his bag without the aid of light nor hands, using his mouth to find and open the zippers.

The taste of burnt fabric was his first sign of the large tear that opened half of his bag. It was obvious he had lost a bunch of things, most of it either littering the platform above or fallen down into the void below. Nonetheless, he searched tirelessly for any and all medical equipment he had remaining, all while still keeping his burning hands in mind. Eventually, his teeth sunk into the fabric of bandages. Without a second thought, he pulled the bandages out of the bag with his mouth and used his elbows to stop it from unrolling.

Unfortunately, he had held the bandages too weakly. Before he could even use his elbows as support, the bandages dropped from Onin's mouth, bouncing off into the darkness. He silently cursed in his head, instinctively trying to pat the ground with his hands before stopping himself. He sat there for a moment, lips pressed into a frown. The only white noise in the cave was his own heart beat, a testament of his current presence in an empty world. He couldn't mess around like this any longer; he needed light.

With that thought in mind, his instincts were woefully faster than his thought process, and consequently made the decision for him. Before he could stop himself, he had already channeled his energy through his arms and felt it quickly course into his hands. With a bright flash of light, the cave lit up with a bright yellow light. Just as instantly, the cave returned back to its empty darkness, with the addition of a loud and gut-wrenching scream of agony.

"A-AAARGH!"

Pain alone was not enough of a word to describe the utter hell that Onin fell into. Like a storm of thousands of molten hot needles, his entire body was assaulted with piercing stabs. He collapsed onto the stone-hard ground, his body writhing like a fish out of water. His head felt light and a high-pitch ringing shook his ears violently, distracting him from his own screams. Slowly, his world began to fade away, his vision darkening more than it already was…

…

… with a start, his eyes shot open. Onin suddenly jolted forwards, throwing himself into his bag and biting hard on the fabric, a sound substitute to his own tongue. He bit hard and forced his breaths to even out, trying even harder to clear up his unorganized head. He sat like that for an unknown amount of time, trying to get used to the otherworldly pain, and eventually—after a grueling long time—relaxed himself. Onin went still, his breaths heavy but controlled. And with control, he released his vice bite from his bag.

As he sat there once more, Online blinked away the spots of light in his eyes. The sudden change in light must've damaged his retinas in some way. He hoped it wasn't something incurable. He would rather not lose his vision over his own stupidity. Such a thought made him instantly seethe in self-condemnation. How could he have done something like that? Why try to take care of his hands when he'd go on to do something ten times worse? The answer was obvious, but it failed to appease him. He hurt, and that hurt was messing with his rationality.

He stared down at his lap, not seeing but knowing that his hands were even further damaged. One should never use energy with damaged hands, he soundly noted.

With a shaky sigh, Onin used what little rationale he managed to attain to form his thoughts clearly. He couldn't make any progress in treating himself without any light, and that was further solidified with his bandages sitting somewhere within this cave. Even then, his choice of actions were unorganized; he needed to put a salve first before even considering bandaging his hands. What more, he was painfully aware that chips of rocks were lodged into his hands. He would need tweezers or something to remove them.

Onin shook his head. What needed to focus on now was getting a good light source. His only option was his own energy, but his hands were definitely off limits. That, however, did not mean he couldn't use something else.

Closing his eyes, Onin focused his energy once more, slowly making it crawl down his spine and up to the tip of his tail. This time, he purposely made it slow, not wanting to damage yet another sensitive part of his body. Gradually, the tip of his tail began to glow, and gradually did the cave light up. When he found a comfortable output of his energy, Onin opened his eyes, finding himself in a surprisingly small cave. Using his makeshift flashlight, he aimed his tail towards the inside of the cave, quickly finding a dead end. Luckily, the bandages did not roll too far off, having been stopped by a small rock. Even if the cave had not been small, he could've still reached for them.

And quickly he did. Using his right foot, he scooted up to the bandages and rolled them to his side. Comfortably in reach, he finally brought his attention down to his hands and… winced heavily. The sight before him made his stomach churn uncomfortably. The only good thing about what he saw was the fact there weren't many foreign objects lodged into his hand. He tried his best to ignore all the other details.

His attention was then brought to his damaged bag, a burnt hole painfully obvious. He really did lose a lot of things… at the very least, he still had some things remaining. He leaned in and shined his light inside through the large hole in his bag, finding that he still had some food and—more importantly—medical equipment. As his eyes caught a glimpse of the shine of metal, he bent inwards and picked it up with his mouth. Pulling it out, he frowned when he saw it was simply a simple knife. Useful, but not what he wanted.

Continuing his search, he eventually came out with no tweezer. What he had left were a few capsules of nutrients pills, one water canister, some damaged dried meat bars, and fortunately the unscathed medical equipment. His attention returned back to the knife. In his situation, he guessed there wasn't really any room for preferences. Onin picked up the knife in his mouth and positioned it comfortably in between his teeth. Shining his light onto his hands, he then began to carefully push out the shards in his hands. He was no expert doctor or surgeon, but at the very least he knew that it wasn't good to keep a foreign object in a wound.

After some time and many painful winces and grunts, he managed to remove most of the shards out of his hand. Dropping his bloodied knife out of his mouth, Onin went into his bag once more and pulled out the only salve he had. Carefully putting the bottle in between his boots, he opened the cork and, taking it back in his mouth, slowly titled his head and poured the contents of the container onto his wounded hands. With nothing more than his own hands to smear the salve, he carefully put his hand together and gently rubbed them. Fortunately, the numbing agent was quick to activate, slowly diminishing most of his excruciating pain. Once he was satisfied, he parted his hands, looking down at the red-brown salve that had mixed with the blood and excessively dripped off his palms…

…Would he ever be able to use his hands again? Well, he didn't feel any broken bones… but that necessarily didn't mean he had no fractures. With a pensive look, Onin pushed the thoughts aside and took the bandages; it was something he'd think about later. After working around with little aid of his numbed hands, he eventually managed to haphazardly bandage both of his hands. Sighing, Onin pushed himself to the wall of the cave and slumped his back on the damp surface, the light from his tail dimming just slightly.

"..." His head was becoming clearer, and with it Onin began to reflect on his new situation. Of all the things he could've predicted, this was far worse than any of the worst one's he had imagined. He hadn't even taken into consideration the idea of the phase proctors committing a massacre of all things… and he doubts no one else did as well. In any case, it was just a testament to how poorly prepared he was. This entire situation just spat at all the effort he struggled to put together for this phase.

Onin's eyes fell down to his hands, which now looked like giant white mittens. Raditz was right; no matter how much he worked up for this moment, he was just only going to be barely out of the grasp of instant death. And even then, he honestly just avoided that by luck. It was… really depressing. The fact he couldn't have done anything in that situation really set him off… actually, no. No, that's not true at all; the more he replayed the scene in his mind, the more he realized he could've done many things to avoid his current situation. It all just boils down to the fact he just wasn't ready; mentally, physically, everything. He wasn't prepared, at all. It was as if he were a sitting duck.

Why… Why was he even doing this again? He never had a reason to continue this phase, other than that recommendation from whichever royal official somehow caught interest in him. And… haha, he hadn't even opened that damn letter, now that he thinks about it. He probably should've done that from the start… in fact, how had nobody thought of that? Well, in any case, that really didn't answer his question. He wasn't obligated to have continued with this phase. He could've just given up, seeing how severely behind he was in the first place. Both instances—with Heele's rampage and now this—were just strokes of luck. Realistically, he stood no chance at all.

Onin sighed, wrapping his arms around his knees. He looked towards the outside foggy void, passively shining his light at the dark gray curtain. It sort of mesmerized him of how the fog moved and churned, as if it were alive… that added to the eeriness of his situation. It would've been nice if he knew how to fly, like how Taro did. If he did, he could've definitely avoided the condition of his hands…

Maybe he can… no. He couldn't afford wasting his energy trying to experiment, not in his dire situation he can't. If he's going to keep going, he'll have to keep climbing with his own four limbs. But with his hands now wrapped, he had less of a grip, meaning he was more susceptible to falling. He would need to find an alternative…

Onin looked around the cavern with futility. There was nothing in this cave that could help him, not other than what he had brought with him. And with the cave going no further than roughly three meters from where he sat, he didn't have the opportunity to explore further in hopes of finding something. Maybe because of this, instead of instantly trying to make his way back up, he should make use of this place and relax his body. Yet even that prospect had its own list of worries that clouded his mind. What if this cave was actually a den of some kind? What if the air in this place was actually toxic? What if this cave suddenly caved in? The first question was kinda stupid, but the latter two were definitely of concern.

While amusing the conflictions of his thoughts, Onin's stomach growled loudly. Right… he had skipped breakfast today. Onin pulled his bag closer and recounted his remaining rations. If he was frugal, he could maybe last the whole three days… but that's if he could resist the urge of wanting seconds.

But one meat bar couldn't hurt… right?

As the Railspeed mines would have it, the general layout of the tunnels and main cave rooms were simple for anyone to transverse. In addition to that, the rooms themselves were very spacious, not only to make use of more equipment but to also give room for a larger labor force.

Now, these rooms are no longer in use by miners, but rather have become the battlegrounds of the Hounding Race contestants. The walls of the mines echoed with the sounds of fists clashing, mighty battle cries, and the pitched squeals of energy blasts zooming across the air. Every now and then, the caves would shake violently from the powerful attacks of powerhouses, or from those who joined in a collective attempt to defeat their stronger foes.

Amongst the groups of contestants, the majority of which were unsurprisingly saiyans, were small factions from different races. And woefully, under the veil of a generational stigma, they've found themselves at the forefront of numerous attempts on their lives.

Like wasps, a group of fours saiyans flew towards one particular group of foreign contestants in an unorganized fashion, their arms either coiled for a physical attack or extended to send volleys of energy attacks. In contrast, the targeted group—which consisted of five members—were of a uniform formation. Their leader, who stood confidently in the front, brought forth his large body-sized shield of thick metal, which deflected the ki attacks from the rest. With the opening giving, the rest of the members of the foreign group wasted no second and charged at the four saiyans, equipped with weapons ranging from short swords to futuristic pistols.

As the battle ensued, the same leader lodged his shield into the ground and equipped the large cannon-like weapon that was slung on his back. Getting down to one knee, he positioned the weapon on his shoulder, aiming directly at where the battle was taking place. The rest of the members of the group soundly noted their leader's actions, and with skillfulness began to readjust their methods of attacks. Eventually, the four saiyans were gradually but quickly being grouped together.

"... NOW!" the leader shouted. With a press of the trigger, a large blue sphere blasted out from the mouth of the cannon, recoiling the leader back several inches. As the blue sphere rapidly soared towards the heat of battle, the other members of the foreign group had retreated on cue, leaving behind the confused quartet of saiyans grouped together. They were given no time to react as the attack collided, exploding into a brilliant display of blue light, sizzling lightning, and a deafening boom. The entire cavern shook violently, rocks and spires falling from the ceiling as the foreign group braced themselves.

Quickly did the blue lightshow disappear, leaving behind a large dark cloud, dressed with the occasional sparks of static electricity. As the cloud settled, the foreign group cautiously approached, weapons readied as they went to confirm the status of the saiyans. What greeted them was the sight of four slumped bodies, charred beyond recognition.

A visible feeling of relaxation washed over the group. The leader in question stood up, slinging the cannon back over his shoulder and re-equipping the shield. One member walked over to the leader with a smile.

" The weapon seems to be very effective, captain."

" Yes… but the ammo is restricted," the leader responded. He glanced down at his body, feelling a considerable amount of drainage. He shook his head to himself, looking back to the bodies while announcing to the rest of the group. " Loot what you can get from the bodies, we're moving."

" Yes, sir!" all the members unanimously shouted together, instantly going to their predesignated task. Not too long after, the bodies were looted—as was the rest of the room—before the group moved through another tunnel, leaving behind a strange insignia on the wall.

Onin looked down at his feet with both exasperation and a bit of self-accomplishment. He had spent the past who-knows-how-long contemplating many ideas as to how he would approach his situations, specifically how he'd get out of it. As characteristic of him, he started with the most outlandish ideas—ranging from energy propulsion to literally digging through the cave—before coming down to a selective few more reasonable approaches. It is how he, eventually, ended up making use of one strange but highly effective idea of his.

Currently, he was standing barefoot. He had come to this idea because, firstly, he had almost fallen way too many times because of the lack of traction on his boots. It would be much better for him to use his bare feet if he plans to continue climbing; plus, it gave him more maneuverability—a factor that is really important with this slippery cliffside.

That would presumably mean he'd have to leave his boots in this cave, or at least put them in his bag. He did neither of those, of course.

Clicking his boots together, Onin stared at the two shoes that were now equipped over his bandaged hands. As odd as it appeared, it was a surprisingly effective use of them. The pointed ends of his boots acted like spikes, which he had tested on the cave's walls and came with remarkable efficiency in holding his weight. And because they were made of a special metal, there would be no worry about them wearing out quickly during the climb. Onin had virtually made himself some climbing gear.

There were some fleeting concerns he had, of course, such as—and most notably—the scenario in which his hands would slip out of the shoes mid-climb, but the sudden contractions of the shoes on his wrists when he had put them on had reminded him of the forgettable yet advanced technology of saiyan armor. This had pretty much dwarfed any other worries he had.

With a small grin, Onin stared into the foggy void, adjusting his now much smaller bag. After chowing down on a meat bar—which thankfully he had withheld himself from eating anymore—Onin had taken the time to remove everything from his damaged bag and shaved it down with his knife. He was careful not to cut any of the straps, much less cut in any way that would make his bag virtually unusable, so it took some time before he came up with a design that would be able to carry his stuff with minimal restriction. He wasn't sure how to describe it, but he had ended up making it a one-strap bag. He obviously kept what he had cut off, since those could also come in handy.

In any case, his stuff was ready. He also was feeling much less pain than he initially was going through, a sign that his body was healing itself. Rapidly? Probably not, and it wouldn't be as efficient as a healing pod would do, but that was expected. It only further exemplified the need of him to take this deathly seriously, and he had planned to do so with great care. In other words, he was ready to continue.

Onin came to the edge of the cave, peeking his head out. He instantly felt the dampness cover his face, and he nearly had second thoughts when he took in the view of the bottomless void. Shaking his head, Onin pushed the thoughts away and came to the corner of the cave entrance. He moved his tail to his side and shone the light on the surface, finding it very rigid and covered with plenty of grooves and cracks. With some strategy, this can turn out to be an easier climb than he initially expected. But… theory isn't always the same as practical.

Having that in mind, he began his climb. To his satisfaction, the makeshift boot-pickaxes worked wonderfully, allowing him to make progress without exerting himself as much as he did previously. He kept his pace steady and rhythmic, as to not waste any of his energy. Internally, he counted to five minutes, and like before nothing changed from the endless rocky cliffside and dark storm-like fog.

Speaking of which, he's beginning to wonder whether this was really a fog void. It felt like he was just in a cloud. Maybe he was… it really didn't change much though. His hair was super damp.

Author's Note

Well, thank you once again for reading! This chapter has been interesting in the fact that, initially, I never planned on going for the Trotter Lot POV until much later on. But as I usually do with my stories (yes, plural as there are other drafts I'm working on), I just go with the flow and fill up the gaps of my idea with on-the-spot content. Hopefully I won't end up contradicting my story too much, much less if I already am.

In any case, poor Onin! Suffered worse than I initially had in mind... but hey, character development! Next chapter is literally halfway in the making. As shown in that little snippet of a battle, new characters are coming... and so is more research. I'm aware there are still some questions left unanswered with where my story is currently heading, so adding more characters might sound confusing. But don't worry, hopefully I get to clear things up the more I write.

Well, that will be all for me right now. As promised, I've reduced the chapter size for my own benefit of publishing. I'm really starting to see this story unfold more and more, and I'm kinda getting excited with where my imagination can take me. That'll be all for me... cya next chapter