Number Thirty-Two

It's with a sudden gasp that Goku wakes.

He climbs from his grave of rubble, pushing aside bricks and even collapsed steel to take in the remnants of a smoking world, one confused by the smog of annihilation. His coordination skills still aren't operating, and he stumbles over the wreckage, tripping as he limps until finally, he stops, reaching a pyre of smoldering wood. A hand is visible in the embers—and so he pulls it, leveraging Vegeta to freedom and then Piccolo when he finds him next.

Ytvl is nowhere to be found. Pyrak is, but only in body for he's no longer with them.

Bulma.

Goku can't sense her either.

He releases a shaky breath, turning to the skies.

"Gohan…"

Chapter Eighteen

The Flayed

In the fabric lined bag, only one senzu bean remains.

Piccolo, Goku and Vegeta had split the rest to heal from the bombing, but they remain out of sorts long after their recovery. With but one bean left at their disposal, there isn't much—if any—leeway for failure after this. He confines the hand-sized bag into his obi, sighing. It looks like likely that they're going to have to use the dragon balls sooner rather than later, especially with the repercussions of the bombings…

Somehow, the ship has emerged unscathed from the assault, perhaps being docked far enough away that the attackers hadn't bothered to waste arsenal on the location, and so the three sit, in silence, within its confines, saturating in their reality. With so many gone, the large living area feels lonely and reminiscent of the day before, with Bulma's tools scattered around and Gohan's bowl of what was once sugar cubes sitting on the table.

Piccolo's staring at the bowl, too…

"We're summoning the dragon. Immediately."

Goku and Piccolo look over to Vegeta. Now on his feet, he's wrought with shaking anger—with frustration, too, like them—but he's more focused on bringing Bulma back than Gohan, which seems the easier option right now.

"We agreed to wait until we're finished with the mission for Cilo," Piccolo points out after a stretch of silence.

"I don't care. We're bringing her back."

"We had to wait for Krillin."

"I said I don't care! We have two sets of dragon balls so we're going to use them! Whether I have to wring your neck to get you to summon the namekian dragon or if I have to personally get in touch with Bulma's parents for Earth's blasted one, it's happening!"

"And if one of us dies?" Piccolo challenges. "Should we have to wait a full year?"

"Don't die, then."

"We can't use the namekian balls without Gohan," Goku reminds them. "They only work when—."

In realization, Vegeta stands and kicks the waste bin over, swiveling on his heels. "I'll kill him, Kakarot!"

"Vegeta—."

"Shut up! Thirty-Two caused Bulma's dea—!"

"No, he didn't, and you know it," Piccolo interrupts, "And don't call him that. We know who he is now."

"I don't give a damn who he is! He's still a damn dog of the Frost Em—!"

"How can you say that? After everything you just witnessed!"

Goku drags his own hands through his hair, burning up in his own frustration as Vegeta and Piccolo go at it. The Earth dragon balls won't work on Gohan—for whatever reason—and the Namekian ones don't work without Gohan—again, for whatever reason—so what can they even do to find him? He's gone, like smoke without a trace, and in his wake, the fire still cinders.

Had he been planning this?

What a stupid question. Of course, he had. He'd been suspicious for days. Watching Goku watch him. Always listening. Always so quiet with swallowed secrets.

An unexpected feeling throws Goku off-guard; he's angry—at Gohan. After being locked together together for weeks, after learning of Goku's intent, after all those small breakthroughs, whether they'd been between them or Bulma, all accumulates to a sick, mocking dangling of the carrot. Gohan had been under their noses all along, and Gohan himself had known everything. Whilst saying nothing.

Overlaying the memory of Gohan and an actualized, real-life person Goku knows is jarring. Gohan and Thirty-Two had represented different relationships to Goku, both only connected by the possibility of the Youth Program. To say he'd been shocked in an understatement. Goku hadn't suspected a thing. How could the two compare? "Thirty-Two" had been older than Gohan, and so hardened and distant that there'd been little left to recognize—except those eyes; dark, almond-shaped, and complex with something Goku hadn't been able to put a finger on. Now, he can. It'd been familiarity.

Worse yet, the Gohan naively dreamed of would have returned to Goku, arms wide, and even in a less idealistic reality, he would have at least told Goku of his identity should he have remembered it, which he did. He wouldn't have denied Goku the closure, even if he'd not wanted anything to do with Goku and his ten-year long heartbreak.

To be able to use the name "Gohan" in present tense so naturally should have been a wonderful moment, but instead, Goku finds complicated emotions making him want to say ugly things.

He feels betrayed.

Hurt. Confused. Really, really confused.

What's Gohan up to? Why does he want the dragon balls?

He imagines "Thirty-Two" sitting in his usual spot by the window, plotting, a faraway expression widening the gap between him and those onboard. What had Gohan been thinking about? What had he really thought about them—those on the ship? About Goku?

God, why didn't he tell Goku?

The others said "Thirty-Two" didn't like him, but Goku never suspected that and Goku, well, he'd rather liked "Thirty-Two" even if he hadn't trusted him all that much—with good reason, Goku understands now.

"He lied to us!" Vegeta sneers. "If he told us the truth from the start then we wouldn't be in this shit! Bulma wouldn't be dead! Hell, even Krillin—Kakarot, is your brain working? Have you not made the connection that your son murdered your friends?"

"He did not kill Bulma," Piccolo fumes.

But Gohan did kill Krillin, with a gun and a single bullet, sparing Goku in the cradle of snow and soft, yellowed light. Goku can still remember hearing the boots cut into snow as he'd walked away.

Gohan has always known of their connection. He'd always known of Goku's defeat of Frieza—because he, himself, had witnessed the fight which had led up to it.

Gohan…

"Don't you have anything to say?" Vegeta snipes, eager for the argument. "Hey! Where do you think you're going?"

"Get offa' me," Goku warns, snatching an arm back when Vegeta snags him. "We're not doing this right now. I need some air."

"And then what? What do we do now that your son has turned out to be a traitorous swine?"

Vegeta's worked up and Goku hasn't the patience for this right now. He, too, wants nothing more than to go outside and punch something really, really hard. "We don't know anything," Goku says, slowly, like he had earlier when Gohan's loyalties first came up. "If he really served Hailer then he could have gone back way before, back when the ship had been hijacked and—."

"Where else could he have gone to?"

"We don't know," Piccolo stresses.

"The Frost Empire," Vegeta spits, "Is where all the dogs return to."

Goku wants to point out that Vegeta had once served and that he has no right questioning someone else's intentions when his road to redemption had been as arduous as it'd been, but the truth of it is that Vegeta is hurting. Bulma is dead and he's lashing out. Gohan is an easy target because Vegeta has never liked "Thirty-Two", and right now, with nobody else around to blame, Gohan is the sole option to absorb all that anger.

For now, Goku will give him a pass.

It's snowing when Goku makes his way outside. Not as much as earlier, which is good because that would put them at the risk of the ship being snowed in, but still enough that the flurry of white is uncomfortable to walk into. The snowflakes accost him, over-stimulate him when he's already so mad, and when he slips on a patch of ice, Goku falls, slamming his fist into the floor, cracking a wide berth into the dirty white.

He breathes out a cloud, his lungs squeezing.

"Damn it…"

It's hitting a wall—not knowing what to do next after reaching the final curtain. The mystery of Gohan, or of his whereabouts at least, has been solved. Goku's seen him. Alive. And at one point, he would have been desperate enough to settle for that—to say that that would have been enough, but after learning about the Youth Program and what it's done to his son, Goku refuses to let Gohan slip through his fingers again.

Solving "Thirty-Two's" intentions hadn't been the most pressing issue. Originally. Perhaps it should have been, Goku reflects, brows furrowed. Behind these intentions had hidden exactly what Goku had been looking for. And for this miscalculation, Goku now pays.

He needs to evaluate what he's dealing with. If he wants to find Gohan (again) then he needs to really, truly, full-brained think about this. He unpacks all his judgments about Thirty-Two and rebrands them.

Gohan is a cunning person, he first decides. Resourceful. A little unhinged if he's honest—a person who would cut his arm free to escape his capturers. A person who would perform surgery on himself to, again, escape his capturers.

There's a laugh devoid of humour.

This is a person who does not want to be found.

Just how is Goku supposed to approach him? Gohan knows of Goku's aims and has rejected him—has told him to go home, even. Gohan doesn't want Goku to save him. Gohan does not want to be saved.

He'd wanted to kill himself, Goku remembers, and he'd tried to do so, many a time, according to the medical records and also according to Ytvl who had explained them to him. To imagine Gohan alone in the hospital, staring up at the ceiling with those big, dark eyes of his, wishing for nothing more than not to be here makes it difficult to be objective. Goku tries to keep to the facts, focusing on how they would be able to help locate Gohan now, but it hurts.

Gohan's heart was broken. Goku's sure of it. For him to have become this detached, this cold, him practically shell of a person, Gohan must have…

Goku swallows the lump in his throat.

Goku's so sorry.

Stood, alone, in the thrum of snowfall, Goku stares into abyss, at the smoking remains of the Youth Program facility; a place Gohan had endured alone for years, suffering, lonely as his dad left him to rot here…

Self-pity won't help anyone, but the guilt is difficult to ignore when the result of Goku's negligence so miserably existed as a prisoner under his own watch. And that's the truth of it; Gohan is miserable. Whatever he plans on doing next, well, Goku doesn't have a good feeling about it. "Thirty-Two", or rather, Gohan operates with a certain code that Goku hasn't been able to fully figure out, although he knows that there is a motive of some kind to fuel it. Gohan kills quickly and efficiently, but only when he must, he doesn't talk for leisure, only speaking when necessary, he isn't merciful, and yet he isn't cruel either, he's so methodical that it'd exhausted Goku to witness, and, worst of all… Gohan's utterly relentless.

It's kind of scary, actually. Whatever he wants, he gets.

Honestly… Gohan's probably already swiped the dragon balls.

Wait.

Gohan's… probably already… swiped the dragon balls…

Immediately, Goku sprints back to the ship, along the corridors and into his room. He plies up the flooring to find…

Nothing.

Vegeta had taken it the worse—to nobody's surprise. He'd let loose a round of ki into the ruins of the facility, not stopping until only a panting mess of a man remained. It's dark now. Nighttime, with the only light pollution coming from Vegeta's wrath.

"How did he do it?" Piccolo asks.

"It" is somehow amass all seven dragon balls, conceal them as he went about the facility, and escape with them, unnoticed.

Goku shrugs his shoulders, staring emptily, watching Vegeta bring down what was once the Research Division.

They figure it out later when Goku is looking for a key to the pilot's cabin to check the fuel. Vegeta is speaking to Bulma's dad on the computer about summoning the Earth dragon, when Goku comprehends how Gohan would have kept the balls on his person. Upon finding a capsule missing from its cubby, Goku presses his head against the cupboard's door, groaning in realization.

"He stole a capsule," Piccolo repeats, droll.

"And put the dragon balls inside," Goku finishes.

"And how did he manage to steal the balls right from under our noses?"

"I don't know…" Goku admits, "I was in my room all night."

"Me, too."

They stay the evening, at a loss on how to proceed. Vegeta is rotten even the next morning, having likely slept very little, much like Goku, who, despite being so exhausted, can't bring himself to close his eyes. He pools himself over Gohan's documents and photograph, soaking in as much connection as he can despite knowing how useless they are to him now. Days ago, these documents felt like the key.

There aren't any clues to Gohan's whereabouts in them anymore…

"If he has the balls then his plan is to summon the dragon," Vegeta snaps, "Obviously."

Piccolo and Goku look up from the notes. "But he knows he can't do that without a person who speaks Namekian," Goku says, and then pauses, looking to Piccolo urgently.

Piccolo is levied in realization, too. "Namek," he breathes out.

"There are speakers at the Frost Empire, too," Vegeta points out scathingly. "He could just as easily return there."

"He isn't one of them," dismisses Goku, standing attention, turning towards to flightdeck.

"Don't be a biased idiot."

Namek. Gohan must be returning there. He knows the location now, knows what he must do to call the dragon because Goku himself revealed how to do it. For a reason unbeknownst to Goku at the time, he'd felt a willingness to trust "Thirty-Two", a pull to him, a strange, quiet hope that he'd eventually come around and join them. Goku likes to defeat his enemies with friendship. He'd hoped to do the same with the miserable captain who gloomily ate sugar cubes.

Little did he know.

But… God, Goku had felt something for the kid, hadn't he? Somewhere, deep down, something in Goku had been drawn to him.

Goku hasn't piloted the ship in months, but he remembers how to access the travel history in the computer. He inputs the location data for Namek and its coordinates, no second thoughts.

"Kakarot!" Vegeta stumbles against the doorframe having arrived. The ship is taking off. "What do you think you're doing!"

"We can't just do nothing. We're going back to Namek."

"This place was just attacked—there will be other ships— and Cooler's men will be watching the entire surrounding area!"

Goku turns back to the control panel, scoffing. "Since when were you scared of him?"

"The ship will be destroyed, idiot!"

Stubbornly, Goku accelerates upwards at an even greater speed, causing unfastened objects to clatter to the floor—cups and files take flight—and Vegeta falls once more, this time against the control panel.

"Patrol ships will be circulating the area," he hisses, "What would happen if we lost the ship? You're not thinking! How would we get anywhere?"

Taking a leaf from Gohan's book, Goku gestures towards the cupboard. "Then go put the suit on and make sure nobody blows us up from outside."

"Damn it, Kakarot!"

Goku's come too far to give up now. He won't let this be the end.

Even Gohan won't get in the way of this; angry, miserable Gohan and his manic resolve that would have him even bite someone's finger off. He may be determined—obsessive perhaps, if like Goku—and he may not want much to do with his family, but Goku recognized Gohan's humanity, and the self-hatred of a person who is in a situation he doesn't want to be in.

Goku doesn't care if Gohan doesn't want saving.

Gohan is Goku's son, darn it. He's coming home with him—even if Goku has to drag him.

"This is the last time!" Vegeta snaps at him, suited and booted for the vacuum of space. "I won't help after this!"

"You won't need to," Goku returns, deploying the exterior cameras.

"When I get my hands on that brat I'm going to kill him, just so you know!"

Goku smirks, inspired.

"And don't think I'm doing this for either of you. Bulma… she damn well knew, didn't she?"

"Definitely."

Of course, she did. She's the sharpest out of all of them. She must have figured this out ages ago—that's what she liked him as much as she did, because she knew. Gohan must have known she knew, too.

Earlier, back before the bombing, she'd warned him that Goku may end up making everything worse. Why? What had she known? What did Gohan talk to her about? What does Gohan know—about them—about Goku? What does he remember? He'd been so young. He'd been young and innocent and already so formidable in the face of his adversities.

It's… amazing.

Gohan has become even stronger. He's unhappy but… Goku recognizes a survivor.

His fingers still over the buttons, clenching. Goku still can't quite believe it. All this time… Gohan had been here—with them—alive and well and…

Goku remembers Gohan briefly laughing. He'd smirked-smiled, too, only briefly, but Goku remembers it. It'd been a nice enough smirk. More of a smile, really. Gohan-like, now that he thinks about it.

It's addictive to allow himself joy, just for a moment, to compare the two in their trivialities. Yes, Bulma had been right, hadn't she? He's shy, isn't he? And Gohan has always loved sweet food, especially fruit like apples and berries. And reading, too. Gohan loved reading as a boy. Probably because he's so clever—Goku wonders where he got it from because it certainly wasn't from him. Chi-Chi must have instilled it in him, and it must have stuck because Gohan's outsmarted them at every chance. He's so bright.

Bright… and violent.

Goku then remembers being strangled and all his borrowed joy goes up in flames.

Ytvl should have told him earlier about "Thirty-Two" being younger, perhaps then Goku might have had a better chance at putting two and two together. But Goku remembers that dissonance in his son's eyes that night. He knows he would never have recognized Gohan in actions so vicious, so violent and chaotic.

With Pyrak, how it turned out feels almost destined. He'd been another causality of the Program, but not one they were or are able to save. Whether or not he'd been killed by Gohan or the bombing, they're not sure, making it difficult to wish him back, and with the ethics of that decision already tricky, what with Pyrak being not exactly the best person to begin with, Goku feels unsure on how to proceed. Ytvl, too, had been lost. What should he do?

Goku sighs, leaning against his hand.

Krillin, Bulma, Pyrak, Ytvl… Their group has certainly dwindled down.

As the ship proceeds through the passage away from the Youth Program, Goku finds it devoid of much of anything. He'd expected the promised ships. Even Vegeta shares his confusion over the speakers, instructing him to remain wary regardless, that patrolling ships maybe using concealment devices. Piccolo, who's come to stand by Goku's side grumpily after their unplanned takeoff, gestures to the window where scrap metal appears to casually drift wayside.

Several other pieces cast by, including a wrecked, burnt-out spacepod, with Goku recognizing the tell-tale oval shape.

That's when a pink pop-up flashes on the screen, with writing Goku cannot read. He forwards the message to Vegeta.

"What does it say?"

Vegeta's quiet for a long time.

"Vegeta?"

"It could be a trap."

"What does it say?"

There's a sigh of frustration which crackles. "It says to enter the mothership."

"What mothership?"

"Who is even messaging us?" Piccolo questions, sounding concerned. "Could someone be watching our movements?

"Stay vigilant," Vegeta orders through static.

Goku wonders if it's Gohan. Does he need help? Could he be leading them to survivors? Or if it's not Gohan, then why would anyone want to give them instructions? Do they know who they are? How did they get access to the same server?

Minutes later, their voyage has them stumble into the ruins of chaos. It's a graveyard of ships, with metal in all shapes and sizes, littering the void of space, haphazard and disordered as though an explosion took place. Soon enough, Goku spots a grizzly body in their path, the eyes completely blown, lips blue and skin cracked and grey. He'd died horrified.

"Cooler," Piccolo says.

"Ah?"

"His uniform was red. That's the Frost Empire's Northern uniform."

"There's been some big fight, then," Goku understands.

"Mmm."

More bodies cruise by as Goku slows the ship, carefully weaving around the debris as best he can with its large body. The bodies are frozen, most are donned in red but some also in the dusky blue that Gohan wears.

"Kakarot, 60 degrees right."

Ah, Goku sees it. A huge ship; massive in comparison to the Capsule Corp. ship. It's lying on a tilt in sleep, the stomach gorged by detonation; black smoke has discoloured its previously white body, and even though the fire is long gone, the destruction looks saturated. Lifeless, it awaits their inspection.

Goku pilots the ship in its general direction, checking the computer to see if there are any distress signals being deployed. There aren't. Warily, he reaches out to the ship through his own recorded message. He waits. Again, no signal finds him in return.

"Do you think its safe?" Goku asks.

"No," both Vegeta and Piccolo say.

They proceed anyway.

That's when a second message pops up. It's immediately forwarded to Vegeta.

"Thirty-Two," Vegeta reads aloud disdainfully.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Goku turns to Piccolo. "Do you think he's there?"

There's a thoughtful expression. "We can't be sure. I doubt it's Gohan himself sending the messages, though. I think you're right about him going to Namek."

"Then why would…?"

He swallows, and discomfort washes over Goku as, shoddily, he parks their ship in the gnawed metal bowel of the ship. He's terrible at parking so ends up screeching to a stop as the steel teeth scratch at the outer layer of the Capsule Corp. ship.

"Are you all right, Vegeta?"

"You nearly took my head off, you moron!"

Oh, good. He's fine.

Goku and Piccolo take their respective suits and enter the airlock before being sentenced into space, the suction dragging them out. Cold and airless, the void has overtaken what looks like to be a storage area of whatever this ship is. There are large metal boxes stacked upon one another, only viewable under the headlights of the Capsule Corp. ship. So, Goku propels himself forward, grabbing a metallic handle which enables him to feel around for a light switch.

The electrics are fried, however. The only light that sparks to life spits from the switch itself and makes Goku jump back in surprise. Vegeta floats into his peripheral vision, tapping his own head where a small torch lights up the area around them. He hadn't bothered to activate their communication system to call Goku an "idiot", but the motion implied as much.

Through the torch's limited light, Goku and the others manage to find a hatch that leads to the floor above. Due to the breakage of the exterior, it's not airlocked. It is, however, bright with artificial red lights which flash over and over. Whatever alarm that is supposed to be going off long since died.

"What happens after we find Gohan?" Piccolo asks through the communication system, only to Goku.

"What do you mean?"

"He won't want to return to Earth."

"We don't know that."

"Yes, we do."

They're flying down a long, wide corridor that prospectively used to be as pristine as the exterior of the ship once was. Now, blackened stains ruin the walls, appearing to be laser or energy residue, from whatever fight took place within the ship itself. Goku isn't sure exactly what they're hoping to find here, but the suggestion that Gohan could be here is too good of an opportunity to bypass—just in case. Whoever is messaging them knows of their connection to "Thirty-Two".

"It could be Ytvl," Vegeta points out into their shared communication line.

"He's dead, right?" Goku asks, persisting onwards.

"I didn't see him die."

"Neither did I," comments Piccolo.

"And we never found the body."

Goku hums. "We barely looked, though."

"He probably orchestrated the attack," Vegeta snipes, "I bet he's back, safe and sound, up Cooler's ass where he belongs."

"Well, whoever it was could have at least given us some directions," Piccolo huffs, "This place is vast. There's no way we'd be able to just stumble across Gohan if he were here—which I doubt he is."

The room they pour into would have been an airy, well-decorated foyer if not for the heaped mountain of swaying bodies spewing forth from the centre. A bloodbath took place here, and awfully, with the lack of gravity, body parts aren't shy about separating from their owners. The three swim their way through the mass, Vegeta blasting several bodies when they dare bob along into his path.

The stairs leading up are cracked and angled, likely because the entire ship is lilting. They stop there, holding the banister for leverage.

"We can't spend all day exploring the ship," Piccolo says. "We need to think about why Gohan would even be here—if the message is genuine, which I doubt."

"Considering current politics, he's a Southerner, so he'd be a prisoner," Vegeta growls, angry not at the idea itself, but because of a disconnected discombobulated-looking head which keeps batting against his shoulder.

"And where do they keep prisoners?" Goku quizzes, "You were in the Northern army, right?"

"When Frieza led it. It's changed since then."

"I'm sure it doesn't change where prisoners are kept," Piccolo pushes, "You must have been on ships like this."

"Of course, I have."

"So, use your brain."

"We don't know if he was even captured!" Vegeta snaps, slapping the head away yet again. "This is ridiculous!"

"Gohan wouldn't want to be here," Goku tells the group, knowing as much. "It wouldn't be by choice. So, let's check the onboard jail or prison or whatever the Northern guys use to hold prisoners. Just to say we have."

"Lead the way, Soldier," mocks Piccolo, gesturing to Vegeta.

The holding cells are said to be located close to where Goku parked, known to be in the lower decks of the ship where little light can offer reprieve. Ironically enough, there is an airlock to bypass, which means they can remove their suits, making the cells the best protected part of the ship right now in comparison to the oxygen-less, gravity-less warzones above.

Helmet removed, Goku takes a deep breath of air.

"This way," Vegeta tells them, helmet-hair skewed across his forehead.

Piccolo and Goku follow, both fixated on the claustrophobic surroundings. He's almost tempted to put the helmet back on when the pungent smell of bacteria has him gag—it's a heavy, wet smell that seems to pour down the throat. Goku and Piccolo choke on this—on their coughs—whilst Vegeta, meanwhile, remains unaffected, clearly used to such pungencies.

Poor guy.

Around, the grey walls are stained and cobwebbed, with the door opposite being no better. Vegeta pushes it open, breaking the material above that kept the hinges in place. It creaks, squeaks and then ultimately breaks. A billowing cloud of filth blows appear on the other side, beyond that of a crusty reception desk that has seen no recent attention. .

"He's not here," Piccolo says when they reach the final cell after walking the full stretch. There are several corpses but none of them are Gohan's. Thankfully.

Vegeta looks disturbed.

"What?" Goku asks, sensing something off.

"There's one last room."

"Then, we leave," Piccolo commands. "If he's not there."

"Let's hope he isn't."

There's a door behind the reception desk they'd seen when they first entered the room, and an old, small screen with a keypad below where a passcode would be punched in—instead, it's punched in, literally. Vegeta destroys the pad and the door in one swing, and bolts and metal spit free.

Behind, there's what looks like a warehouse, with drooping chains that lean at an angle and great, hulking machinery that's rusted over. The floor and ceiling are a matching grey, no windows to be found, whilst being artificially lit in a crude, dismal manner that barely shows much at all. As they walk, their steps echo throughout the ever-expanding sparsity.

"What is this place?" Goku wonders aloud.

Vegeta clears his throat. "The Negotiation Chamber."

"The what?"

Piccolo breathes out in realization. "A room for torture."

Goku groans from the back of this throat. No. No. Not now. This couldn't have happened to Gohan again. He picks up the pace, desperately hoping, for the first time, not to come across his son here. He passes by tall, intimidating devices he thankfully doesn't know the name of or recognize, breaking into a jog up until the point he reaches the centre of the room. There are T-shaped structures made of bronze metal which loom over him. Straps sit on mirroring sides of these structures and in the middle, with Goku unsure of their purpose. That's until he sees it.

"Gohan!" Goku calls out, breaking into a sprint.

Gohan hangs from this cross, dangling from the straps.

His eyes are unseeing. His head lulls. Dried blood has crusted around his lips.

A blade sits directly in the centre of his skull, piercing the metal behind.

"Gohan!" Goku cries again, "Gohan!"

But it's too late. He's already dead.