"(I have to stop living.)"

[SPECIAL:]

"(I have to.)"

[A Kid Called Zinco...]

Dim orbs in the dark. Behind them, loose visions.

An uncontrollable rage had consumed him, driven by instincts he thought he'd neutered long ago. For those sparse moments he'd caught consciousness, the instincts devoured his attempts to regain control. As they did, he watched his colossal hands devastated homes, blasted communities, and trampled lives. From those spaced cuts of time, every far off death throe had etched into his mind, so quiet from his elevated ears, making them all the more more grating as he did nothing but rack his head to make out the pain he'd caused them to create such sounds.

The hopes and goals he once had, he'd failed in all regards. He could never atone. All he could do was hope to make up for his acts in death.

The slam of floodlights rattled the tattered, metallic city square. Flashing into view, an extravagant stage veiled by massive velvet drapes. Armed and armored units, eyes hidden beneath tinted visors and lips hidden beneath thick gaiters, lined the platform and in an outward wave before it.

"AH-HMM!" Centerstage stood a slim-bodied officer in swank attire — most notably, a striped cover and egregiously-designed red pants. "ALL YE GATHERED HERE, FEEL FREE TO SET YOUR WEARY HEARTS AT EASE!"

Mutters seeped from the tired crowd, hushed and frail, stewing over the implication.

The officer leered, eager to stoke their hopes and ensnare their trust. "THAT'S RIGHT! ONE OF THE VERY SAME HORRORS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MASS LOSS OF LIFE 200 YEARS AGO, IN ALL ITS 10-STORY HORROR, HAS BEEN BROUGHT LOW!"

The mutters broke into loud conversation, unassured and skeptical, yet with feeble sparks of hope.

"BUT BEFORE WE SEND THIS WRETCHED APE, THIS INFERNAL INVADER FROM THE STARS, HOLLERING STRAIGHT TO HELL…!" The officer raised a sword before the imposing velvet curtains. "AS A TESTAMENT TO THE SHEER METTLE AND BREATHTAKING PROGRESS OF THE VALOROUS RED PANTS DIVISION, THE RED BLOUSE ARMY, AND THE EVER-TENACIOUS HUMAN SPIRIT, WE NOW PRESENT TO YOU ALL, WITHOUT A HINT OF RISK TO ONLOOKERS," he screamed as he swiped down his sword, "A LIVE SAIYAN!"

The drapes lifted with a gust of wind, sailing hundreds of feet into the air. The audience had actually begun to expect the beast that'd unleashed itself onto their fair city.

"... what the hell?"

The officer's haughty countenance bent in confusion, and he turned to see through the crowd's eyes.

— the idiots had cut off its tail. Now, it just looked like a child.

One staring tiredly into the floor, reddened eyes still sodden with tears, mouth creased from a frown that now hung pathetically off his face.

He whipped back around. "R-REST ASSURED, THE SAIYAN ABILITY TO ALTER SHAPE, O-ONLY FURTHER LENDS TO THE THREAT THAT IT POSES TO OUR, EUGH…!"

"He's not even restrained… he could've gotten away, yet he's still there!"

"You sick bastards!"

"You're supposed to be keeping us safe, not torturing kids off the street!"

"THERE'S BEEN A GRIEVOUS MISUNDERSTANDING, I-I ASK YOU ALL TO DISPERSE IN AN ORDERLY FASHION SO WE CAN-"

He wasn't getting through; the crowd was now getting physical with the soldiers.

Sir Red Pants's face contorted in anger and panic. "DO NOT ATTACK YOUR SOLDIERS! YOU'RE TO REMAIN CALM, OR YOU'LL BE FORCING OUR HAND!"

"YOU'RE USING CHILDREN AS YOUR SCAPEGOATS, NOW!?"

"THAT DOESN'T EVEN LOOK LIKE A SAIYAN!"

"HOW STUPID DO YOU THINK WE ARE!?"

"YOU CAN'T FIND ONE 'TeN-sToRy' ALIEN AND YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT US!?"

"RED BLOUSE IS A JOKE!"

"ENOUGH ALREADY!"

"I'M SO TIRED OF THIS SHIT!"

A rock whizzed past his face, cutting him deep. He recoiled back before drawing his sword again. "MEN, WE WARNED THEM! FIRE! FIRE!"

A select few showed reluctance before another minority opened fire. The odd whirr of plasma through bodies, and the air behind it, rang across the surroundings in an echo. A haunting silence trailed behind the fired weapons.

"(... huh?)"

Screams followed as the crowd frantically disassembled.

"D-DON'T LET THIS GO UNPUNISHED!" the commissar shouted, coddling his dripping face. With malice in his eyes, he turned around to face the saiyan child. "You've cost me more than what you're worth, you alien vermin…!"

Approaching with a drawn sword, he failed to notice the way the kid's face had changed. His slit eyes were now fully opened.

The commissar swiped his sword.

It broke on his skin.

"..."

Zinco suddenly disappeared, the force of departure knocking Sir Red Pants onto his ass and, from there, head.

Another shot rang out, sending someone from the dissipating crowd to the ground.

"H-haa… haaah-hh…"

The same person opened their eyes, feeling all over to find not a single hot spot or wound. Their eyes faced front to behold the same boy. His eyes had a frazzled desperation to them, as if he'd implode if a hair on anyone's head was harmed.

"(I can't let anyone else…!)"

"IT'S THE SAIYAN!"

"FOCUS FIRE!"

Zinco disappeared from their eyes. A soldier's weapon suddenly shattered in his grasp. Others were drawn to it, and in the stint of distraction, three more broke apart.

"(I can't let ANYONE…!)"

"COVER FLANKS!" Those with sidearms passed them toward their unarmed compatriots as they dashed closer and soon touched backs.

"(I CAN'T…!)"

"ANY SUDDEN MOVEMENT, SHOO-"

A pressure pushed into the top of the senior serviceman's helmet, before his weapon flew from his hand and splintered. The other soldiers could hardly turn in full before the same happened. In droves they fell defenseless, the speed of the saiyan outdoing their sensors and senses altogether.

A thud appeared behind the lot of them and, shaken, the soldiers veered around. Sure enough, there was the kid, shaking with eyes like a wild animal's. His presence was no different — proximity was like imprisonment, any sudden movement like an invitation to be pounced upon.

One felt it right to pounce before the saiyan could; a senior rank's raised hand stopped him dead. Slowly, surely, they fell back, as the circle went from a crescent to a staggered line of retreating men.

The wobbling commissar, however, had different plans. "STAIN OUR DIGNITY, WILL YOU!?" he shouted as he haphazardly raised his pistol toward both the boy and, to their shock, his own men.

"NO!"

A shot rang out.

Someone from the small platoon was in his sights.

Yet Zinco caught it with his body. The hole sizzled and smoked before disintegrating, straight through his body and yet ensnared by his ki on the opposite side. There was a burning agony that he latched to, and a small smile crept up his lip.

"(If I'd just moved like this from the start, people wouldn't've died, but…!)" He broke from himself, and focused on the single, freshly-disarmed shooter as the pistol fell to the ground in pieces. "(... but I can make up for it,)" he told himself with bug-eyes. In the saiyan's midst, the wobbling man followed on his loyal act by fleeing, and his doubtlessly-former subordinates angrily pursued.

The former rioters slowly re-emerged, and with an initial trepidation like that of fawns. However, in Zinco's own, even more cautious presence, their woes were relieved. All they saw was a savior.

It started small and became a cacophony.

Not a single person present, for the moment at least, questioned the boy; they were simply grateful that he'd been there. An immense weight rolled off the boy's shoulders, and it felt like, at last, he wasn't a mistake.

But his attention slowly shifted from those still there, to the ones approaching the ones like Merona. They were exempt from the simple joy of being saved.

The cheers left his ears, and all he could hear were the stifled sobs, and sounds of vacant flesh dragging over the earth by those mourning. One turned to him with a dour, interrogative gaze. A desperation filled the boy.

That immense weight was only a sliver of a much larger goliath that loomed over him — a mountain's worth, and it had doubled in weight from what it had lost.

The stare was correct. The few he'd saved weren't nearly enough. It made up for not one loss.

"Hey…" Another began to point out. "That stub on his back…!"

"Oh my god…!"

The crowd grew quieter and quieter, gaining distance from the boy. Even as the mourning backed away from the dead, he kept staring into their glazed eyes.

"..." His face crinkled. "I'm sorry," he croaked.

He expected no response. But their unmoved eyes seemed to ignore his half-assed apology like any living being would. The same way Merona had.

It wasn't enough. He had no answer capable of appeasing them. None alive, none dead. He didn't even know what he'd done so wrong.

"(I'm just… scared…)"

Source fresh in his mind, it hit him — the simplest of answers.

He cut himself off, and saved more people.

Over and over, placing his life on the line, he saved others. Those of Earth, and those from places beyond it. If everyone despised him, if he was isolated from everyone, then he had no reason to view anyone as different — he could save equally. Holding back for the sake of others no longer held meaning as he dismantled and swept from harm's way, and all things in between. As a result, after every battle, every brush with death, his strength grew.

He'd save others until the day came when he was needless.

The boy's exploits continued to make rounds — a saiyan emerging from who-knows where and terrorizing the planet into submission, only to disappear the next moment. In time, no land inhabited by earthlings had gone without his presence.

If one brandished a weapon, he was somehow there to shatter it. If one made a fist, he miraculously stood in front of it. In time, all it took to send him coming was a hint of bloodlust, a burst of dread, or both.

He hated it. More and more people grew hostile toward him as his tail steadily grew back. Sleep was hounded by angry revenants demanding he wake up and keep up the fight, lest they keep hounding him with his failures. Every day was a constant battle. Above all else was that there were still failures. Despite his strength, he could still arrive a hair too late.

Destroy every weapon, someone would make due.

Take every hit he could, he'd be too late to stop the one that mattered.

Put one to rest with a would-be gentle strike, they'd break with only hope for recovery.

Grow gentler, gentler still, and they'd wake eventually. The hatred in their hearts would remain. They'd act, once again.

Yet the fear of stealing a life horrified him. An evil that couldn't be taken back, that he'd already done so many more times than one should ever endure. He couldn't allow himself to deprive others of learning, of changing. There'd be no forgiveness like that.

He wouldn't trade lives. He simply shouldered the burden of those he couldn't defend.

And the mound grew atop his back. With no support outside of a stronger body.

Relieved, unhinged chuckles hung above his head, crowded by the lingering tv static.

"Why?" he stammered.

Before him, a disheveled man with a bloodied broken lamp. Beneath him, a corpse with the same glazed eyes.

Between countless other conflicts, he'd knocked out the same man thrice throughout the month. Yet here he was.

"I did it…!" The man triumphantly stammered. "I pulled it off!"

Zinco's quivering head rose, emerald eyes burning a hole through the murderer. A tired rage welled within him, fit to explode. The target of such anger slowly stepped back, quaking legs inhibiting his ability to run.

At long last, Zinco's rage uncontrollably burst.

In a slow, pathetic leakage.

His arms slowly gave out. Head-first, he sank onto the floorboards. "I'm sick of this…!" croaked the 13 year-old boy, tears trickling as his heart sank.

The killer slowly saw a chance as the kid broke down. He lunged at him with the same broken lamp, and struck blood. The makeshift weapon got as deep as beneath the skin before it shattered.

The gall behind the act still drove Zinco mad.

"AAAAA—!" he screamed, the force sending them through a wall.

"... ah… ah–"

He descended into weak, inconsolable sobbing. Far into the night, until exhaustion overtook him.

"That's the one?"

"Yeah. Gotta be."

"The saiyan that's been stackin' hour after hour, huh…" One kicked the blonde alien, to no reaction. "Make me miss my kid's recital, jackass... I thought saiyans had black hair until they did the glowy shit, actually. Why's this one different?"

"Who cares? Just stay trained on him. Boss Lady wants to make a statement with him. Know how much she loves makin' those, right?"

His head practically glued to the aircraft's floor as it descended. Outside the spherical ships, small capsules dropped from hull compartments directly beneath — in seconds, they burst in clouds of smoke, looming platforms taking shape within. Centered between a squadron, one ship much larger than the others touched down.

It opened halfway before, one after another, soldiers brandishing "CC" across their shoulders dashed outside one-by-one under the scarlet-gold sky, covered down and rifles faced outward like a militaristic red carpet. The one walking it, minutes after completion…

She held a hologram-embedded megaphone like a marksman would a pistol. Her approach to the edge of the railed platform held the stern anger of a mother with a switch in hand and a disobedient child in her sights. Beneath bun-wrapped cyan hair strands that flew with the wind, her azure eyes, on the face of a woman who couldn't've been more than a year into college, had jaded — they contained within them a bitter hate that'd simmered for centuries gilded by a cunning razor gaze. Beneath a well-ironed brown blazer and dark pants, a pronounced red blouse.

The ice-eyed woman inquisitively checked her surroundings, before the snap of her fingers sent every soldier in earshot into an uncanny, synchronized drill into Order Arms, all in spite of the environment. With that, she finally held the megaphone to her lips. In the same instance, her face was projected across the atmosphere.

"For shame, Yamoshi. For shame." She slowly strutted across the unrailed area, as more saiyans emerged from the buildings and stopped mid-air. "You would think honoring an agreement to avoid a planet light years away would be a simple ask from a planet that prides itself on faith and honor. Imagine my shock, and my people's horror, upon discovering that a SAIYAN! Has been crawling beneath the floorboards of my precious blue marble!" She raised a finger. "TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTY FOUR YEARS AGO! Earth was ravaged, by a BEAST, that slipped beneath YOUR control, because of YOUR negligence, AND NOT A THOUSAND YEARS LATER...!"

She screamed with a terrifying passion that shook the boy and his handlers to the core, even within the safety of the ship's deep-red holding bay. The citizens below felt much the same, even as some held brave fronts.

"... the human race finds itself under duress, and no less by the same breed of monster. So now I find myself at a crossroads. What am I to do in the face of this BLATANT… disregard for another planet's, for EARTH'S, security? For this abject failure to learn from the past and correct mistakes? Should I consider this an interplanetary act of war?"

"STOP!"

Three lights reminiscent of sun dogs approached from the sky, stopping hundreds of meters away and unwilling to draw any closer as the still-aerial cruisers trained cannons onto them — the troops below called for a "half-moon" and moved into a formation resembling such, right in front of their head honcho.

Revealed within the dispersing lights were figures clad in regal capes and impeccably-detailed battle jackets. "This is NOT how negotiations should be carried out! We were never notified of the rogue saiyan until now, despite our search efforts, and yet WE'RE the ones blamed!? This… invasion you've carried out is far out of line, and the council won't stand idly by while you attempt to threaten this planet into submission!"

"I'm not trying, that's exactly what I'm doing."

"WHAT!?"

The ice-eyed woman raised her finger to the sky. "As I speak, there are two IGRGs, each a light year away, directly aimed at your planet. In fact, they'll remain focused on it moving forward. As for you, you're surrounded on all cylinders with no way of reaching me, through a field fit to absorb a gamma ray burst and redirect it without issue. You're also in my line of sight." As Yamoshi's council reps seethed in place, the ice-eyed woman waved her hand forward, and soldiers began relaying orders down the line. "But I didn't come all the way here to make idle threats. There are consequences that you all need to witness, first-hand."

Within the ship's hull, Zinco was dragged onto his feet.

"That's the order. Let's move."

"Talks forEVER…"

"Wah, wah."

"... Or… der?"

Both holders saw the boy's face move.

[ BGM: FreQuency – Shining -Call Me Again- ]

During his sleep, during the speech outside, a revelation had come to him: there was a way he hadn't tried.

The ice-eyed woman continued her speech. "As I was saying… no. I don't think that such a jump is necessary. What you all need is a demonstration. Of course, we've subdued the rogue saiyan, as will soon be made evid-"

"E-EXCUSE ME!"

Toward the unfamiliar voice, the monolith's head whirred. Her face shifted.

"OH MY- KILL HIM!"

Zinco threw his hands out. "WAIT, I-" He dove away from a bright-red round that bit through his cheek and bent the air around it. It set a precedent for the next several thousand coming his way.

"I NEED TO-" he screamed amidst the gunfire, desperately dodging lest he be torn through, a storm of laserfire illuminating the sky as he escaped into it. "I JUST NEED TO-"

The matriarch's frosty eyes darted around in a rage while the boy pled. "WHY ARE YOU STILL ON THE GROUND!? DO YOU SEE ANY HUMANS ANYWHERE!? USE EVERYTHING ON THE BASTARD!" she demanded with a finger to the vexation, her forces responding wordlessly with shifts in their armor. Not a moment later, they darted into the air after the boy.

No less than a moment into the ensuing dogfight, caught by surprise and surrounded instantly, he was shot through.

Yet he only roared, sending them away as his shout forced up red.

"(I can't lose yet…! NOT UNTIL I'VE TRIED EVERYTHING…!)"

With a brilliant golden glow, he began to access more of what'd been buried down inside his being, and his own latent ability as a human, as a saiyan. Using it, he fought.

The restrictions he once held in place over his own agony began to lift. With every successful strike and spot-on shot dealt to him, he pulled from further within, forcing something greater than his absolute.

"(IF I CAN JUST…! KEEP TRYING…!)"

The saiyans behind the translucent field could only watch. "The Wicked Gene... he must be that rogue's boy...!" Her companions pulled away as she watched. "Where are you going!?"

"That boy is an ill omen... it would be wise to let he and the earthlings battle within their field."

Down below, the ice-eyed woman began losing her cool. "IT'S! A! CHILD! HOW INCOMPETENT CAN YOU BE!? KILL HIM, KILL HIM NOW!"

Zinco punched through a volley of beams, took a strike to the temple only to redirect and strike the adversary into unconsciousness through a guarded pressure point, and nigh-teleported through a barrage of light; another foe barreled into him, joined by a comrade and laying down fire and peppering the boy. Unwavering, Zinco gathered and crushed in his hands a concentration of ki, dispelling the rounds and disorientating their sources, before pushing himself behind them and knocking them out with as little pain as he could muster — all as he began to bleed out.

"(A BIT M… ORE! JUST A BIT MORE AND I'LL…!)"

On reaching the last unit, he dropped all strategy — or rather, he couldn't think of any. He barreled through the volleys of plasma, through the weapon itself, and struck the back of the obstruction's neck with a desperate kick.

Falling to the ground, riddled with holes, his vision blurry from anemia and agony and head trauma and everything in between, he stopped his descent.

"You're kidding…!"

Too addled by everything that'd happened, even his thoughts were inaccessible. All he had was his subconscious, what it told him.

He had to say something. He'd come too far not to. It had to mean something.

"It's… bec-cause people hurt you…?"

Zinco advanced.

"And that… made you upset…?" He brought a hand toward the punctured spot on his chest where his heart struggled to beat. "It's ok, I g-get it…"

It'd become a struggle to stay up and not fall asleep. It would've been rude to do so, in any case.

"People… do stuff, they don't mean to… when they're upse-" He crashed onto his knees at her feet, causing her to stagger back as he caught his breath. "Sorry… I tried really hard to fix thin… s…! But… my way's bad, right now…!"

Everything rammed into his head. Every instance of failure, every instance of joys big and small beamed into his eyes. It wasn't what he wanted to admit, but indeed, his life flashing.

"But…! He repeated, keeling over, finally giving into pain. "But I still know it's possible…! I know it is…!" The instances of failure, to his shock, began to melt away. All he was left with was joy.

"A world where no one has to fight. Where no one has to be scared or get angry at anyone…" As he spoke, as more joyous memories filled his head, a fear set into the pit of his stomach.

— he wasn't ready to give up. He wanted to keep trying.

"If we… if everyone just tries their best... to calm down and talk…!" He began to stifle, but pulled himself together, sinking into a calm. "And tried to unders-stand each other... and ate something good, a-and watched clouds, and listened to scary stories, and moved in fun ways and stuff…"

He wouldn't be able to. His eyes would shut soon.

"Then, one day… if we try hard enough… violence could just die."

The surprise statement carried the last of his lingering hatred. It was something jumping out of his throat at the last second, an anger he'd never investigated enough.

But it felt amazing to say. Something as wonderful as destroying his enemy of so many years. To see, to enact something so… good.

A statement that filled his fading mind as it fell to rest, a forgone desire as a pleasant fabrication.

A good dream.

He lifted his head. "... So plea-"

BANG.

He snapped out of his daze.

"-ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏU BEEN TO THE HERO COLOSSEUM YET!? THERE, YOU CAN FIND-"

"Um, Zinco? Everything ok?"

"Yeah. My head went fuzzy for a sec."

"I get it. That speaker's reeeeeally loud, for some reason!"

He took one last glance back before carrying on toward his match, Kaza falling back to return to his side.

"(I didn't know he was into figure battles,)" Kaza noted, giggling to herself. "(Now I've got just the right present lined up!)"

Yo! OP Here!

Never believe a WORD I say, I'm not kidding. The next chapter could be 11,000 words of kazoo onomatopoeia for all you know and you'd STILL EAT IT UP, YOU'RE ALL WRAPPED AROUND MY LITTLE FINGIES AND THERE'S NO ESCA- yeah, again, sorry. Just... REALLY needed to make this. My sovl demanded it.

So this chapter. It really, REALLY should've been before Weight of the Dream. That's gonna ride on me for a minute. Like this would've added WAY more than lore shit. It finally contextualizes shit like Zinco's Dream, the "Red Light" and the "Weight" on his back that's been there since 2020, and more stuff that I can't think of right now. It's not the biggest issue I guess, because it's still got proximity and its position DIRECTLY AFTER the fight still lends to more-enjoyable rereads with all this chapter adds. Still, in the wise words of my mom, it makes my ass itch.

Neo, Dina, Mei, and now Zinco have now copped their own "special" chapters, and Zinco is such a special boy that his has his death in it. Which is literally only because he is the ONLY DIPSHIT UNTIL THIS POINT WHO HAD A COMPLETELY AMBIGUOUS DEATH. Literally everyone else has had their source of demise written out or implied - Neo's is in the first few chapters and Dina's is the first to be actually shown - except... Kaza and Ceushius... who are in Jin's crew... damn it. That'll be in the awesome grey area after the semis, then. But I really wanted this chapter to exist because a lot of Zinco's story is shrouded in ambiguity that the tidbits I've given have failed to provide enough on. He had a lot going on and I doubt I will ever have the space or patience to elaborate on all of it, compared to, say, Kazikum's. His entire story is "dad kill mom, no, blow shit up, saiyan gf, dad kill saiyan gf, no, ded." Short. Sweet. Simple. Kazikum is one of those things. Debatably two and/or none, depending on who you ask.

One-Time Terminology before I forget forever: InterGalacticRailGun. Earth is about that shit in this timeline. All because that one thing that happened in the first chapter of Dragon Ball went really, really wrong.

This one anime Gangsta kicks ass, btw.

Y'know, I should really write notes for this section. I usually have a lot that I wanna talk about down here, but by the time I GET here, it slips my mind. I stave it off cus I like being off the dome for OP Talks, but at the same time, I could just outline it with the ideas. NGL I'm just a bum. The next one IS, LEGIT THO, Dina VS Kora. Don't let its intro fool you.

That's about it. See ya.