Number Thirty-Two

by Bonsim

Gohan Son became a number the moment the Frost Lords took an interest in the exploded wreckage of Planet Namek.

30. Falling Stars, Rising Sun

Number Thirty-Two

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Chapter Thirty

Falling Stars, Rising Sun

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Just great.

Goku rolls his shoulders.

More soldiers.

Visibility is worsening as the blizzard picks up, the outbreak of snow blanketing the Tree of Might and all the tangled extensions of it. Soon enough, they'll be fighting blind. Something that may be to Goku and Vegeta (and perhaps Gohan)'s advantage as they will be able to sense those around them. The conditions may be tricky to maneuver in however, the terrain icy and slippery. The last time Goku had to go hand-to-hand in the snow was when Gohan put Krillin down.

Adrenaline a knocker against his ribs, Goku can't help but be hyper aware of the razor-edged energy fiercely planted at his side. Gohan still remains, clearly unsure on what to do. His body tenses in livewire apprehension, and there is a faraway stare which is monopolized by the encroaching soldiers, and by Hailer who stands in an ocean of men preparing their sheenks loaded guns. The fact that Gohan didn't instantly abandon Goku in the face of Hailer reinvigorates Goku with hope. Gohan chose him. Despite everything, Goku has to submerge a smile.

Beyond, a roar of furious soldiers pierces through the swan song of wind. The abandoned men wail, attacking Hailer's chosen. Sheenks bullets rip through the night, and soon enough, bloodshed follows and Goku feels the dissolving of life forces. Loudly, Hailer is commanding his men in the Southern language, to both those in front of him and to whoever must be listening over their scouter system. He gestures with precision, first towards those he sentenced to the Tree and then to Goku. His eyes are narrowed unflinchingly on target and without a shred of hesitancy. A man of war.

Where Frieza had been chaotically malevolent, Hailer is measured, with his impassive expression and sharp, unquestionable aura, all of which makes him infinitely more dangerous. Everything is premeditated, and cruelty is but a step in his desired outcome. Any sign of weakness—any shred of emotion shown by his underlings—would be a thread of fabric Hailer would unravel to undo a person. He used Cace to hurt Gohan to hurt Goku, all to play a game beyond Goku's simplicity, done so to affect as many people as possible to remain at the top of the pyramid he created.

And even worse to boot, he is super strong. Way stronger than Frieza had been.

Vegeta, too, recognizes this. He instantly powers up into his Super Saiyan transformation. "What are you doing?" he then snaps at Gohan, who still hasn't moved. "Go wish the bastard dead!"

Goku notices that it isn't fear which has Gohan grounded. His eyes are raking over the mass of men bludgeoning one another, and then over towards the Tree of Might.

"Gohan, what is it?" There must be a million things whirring around his mind right now. He rests a hand against his son's arm, rousing him.

Gohan draws back. "Lure the fight towards the Tree," he tells them slowly, thoughts still piecing themselves together. "Lord Hailer has an advantage in wide, open spaces, and most especially against you both in this environment."

In the direction of darkness, roots have spread into their own knotted forest.

Vegeta shakes his head. "The Tree is clearly unpredictable."

"The battlefield is a scene of constant chaos, and the winner will be the one who controls that chaos, both his own and the enemies," Gohan tells slowly, clearly quoting something. "Where there is chaos, there is opportunity. If you face Lord Hailer directly, you both will die quickly."

"You don't know th—."

"Lord Hailer relies on high energy attacks, which, if used around the Tree of Might, will be hindered useless due to the Tree's gluttony. It takes life force in to grow stronger. It'll absorb any mass of ki, escalating its growth—and if it isn't able to absorb it for whatever reason, it will at least provide shelter from the blunt edge of fire."

Vegeta scoffs. "Don't you have any pride as a warrior?"

"Being reckless doesn't equate honour."

"And if the Tree decides to snack on us!?"

There's a click of the tongue. "Then, figure it out."

"Can the planet handle that much power going into the Tree?" asks Goku.

Still scowling, Gohan shakes his head, just the once, before finally turning away. There's a pause before he leaves for the Dragon. "If you're shot," he eventually mutters, an undercurrent of wavering to his voice, "pull the sheenks bullet out promptly."

Goku doesn't plan on being shot again, thank you very much. "Go," he insists. "We'll be fine. I promise."

"Don't face him directly."

"We won't," Goku forces out because he'd, deep down, love to really see how strong Hailer truly is.

Did Goku's ears hear correctly? Did Gohan just sigh? "…Right."

He definitely doesn't believe me.

There is a scuffle of boots against metal—the debris—and then, padding against snow, until Gohan can be heard no more.

Disliking the lack of proximity to his son after so many weeks of searching for him, Goku releases a breath, trying to remain focused on the goal at hand.

"Go with him," Vegeta suggests, "I can take Hailer on my own."

"You know Hailer's powerful. Like Gohan said, we shouldn't take any chances."

"Tch… Fine. Have it your way. But you know Hailer is going to bee-line for him, don't you?"

Then, they can't give him opportunity to.

Goku surges forward, his body crackling with energy as he charges toward Hailer and those he surrounds himself with. Beyond the hiss of pursing bullets, the blizzard yowls around them, but all Goku can see is the tyrant in front of him. With a roar, he throws a powerful punch, aiming for the chest. Hailer dodges just in time, his large albeit nimble form shifting through the air with unnerving grace. Goku's fist slams into the ground instead, sending shockwaves through the snow.

He teleports, vanishing from Hailer's sight in a flash of light. Before Hailer can react, Goku reappears behind him, delivering a roundhouse kick to his side. The force of the blow sends Hailer pressing backwards through the air, but he quickly recovers.

"Disappointing," Hailer says, nonchalantly tossing his cape into the ruins.

He retaliates with an experimental energy beam from his finger, but Goku's reflexes are too fast. He dodges the attack with a flip, then charges a ki attack of his own, his energy building up in the palms of his hands. With a cry, Goku releases the blast, the wave of raw power hurtling straight toward Hailer, threatening to consume him entirely—alas, it doesn't, with Hailer batting the blast away like a rubber ball, the blue eventually striking a building in the faraway distance and exploding.

Over Goku's shoulder, flies another bundle of energy, hissing with vibration as it passes. Hailer dodges this one, craning his neck as he simply allows it to pass over him. There's a subsequent explosion not far away from the first. From its source, Vegeta charges like a bull, a gust of icy wind chasing. When he reaches Hailer, he's immediately backhanded towards the ground. Swatted like an annoying bug.

Goku grits his teeth. That must have been personal.

"I see Thirty-Two is absent from this confrontation…" Hailer then comments airily, gazing towards the Dragon. "Pursuing his wish, I'd wager…"

Goku snorts. "Or maybe he's just done with this—all this—me, you, the war. Maybe he's just made a run for it." His arms gesture to all the death that's followed the day. "I can't exactly blame him."

Come on. Talk to me.

"Thirty-Two will never be able to outrun his problems, Super Saiyan for… wherever he goes, there he is." Hailer raises a hand, still more interested in the Dragon than with Goku or Vegeta, who is now emerging from his pit.

No…

A malicious energy begins to crackle around Hailer's palm. The air thickens with tension as the sky fizzes an ominous umber, swirling clouds gathering above him. Before Goku can even move, the energy has built up into an impressive sphere of a great magnitude. With a sudden, vicious motion, Hailer launches the energy ball, a swirling mass of purple and black that crackles with raw power. It courses fast, the world tilting towards its drag when it journeys towards the serpentine dragon in the sky, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake as it heads straight for the dragon balls.

"This will be the end of your precious dragon," Hailer announces, his voice dripping with contempt. The energy ball grows larger, faster, the earth trembling beneath its force. Hailer watches it approach its target, his eyes glowing with satisfaction.

Gohan!

Goku attempts to dislodge it from its path, but Hailer is as quick as he is powerful, and before Goku can reach the energy, he is struck cruelly with an elbow in the small of his back, sending a streak of agony both northwards and southwards. Before he hits the ground, he's propelled upwards with a kick, his insides bursting.

Beyond, the blast surges forward, aiming to obliterate everything in its path—the dragon balls, the Namekian dragon, and the hopes of those who relied on them. The snowstorm around intensifies, as if nature itself feels the fury of Hailer's power, ready to witness the end of an ancient dream.

This… power!

Then, the massive surge of ki erupts, the force sending shockwaves through the blizzard. The snow around them is blasted away, the sheer pressure of the energy pushing everything back. The sky itself trembles, dark clouds swirling violently, as if the storm is responding to the eruption. Perhaps it is—the light emitted from the Dragon dies a sudden death, casting Central into a momentary abyss. If not for Goku and Vegeta's golden auras, the world would be blind.

The ground beneath their feet cracks, fissures splitting open as the energy builds, the sound is deafening—a roaring crescendo of power.

The blast goes off, a wave of raw ki exploding outward, tearing apart the landscape. The wind stirs violently, and the snow is obliterated, the shockwave leaving a deep crater in its wake. The storm intensifies in its aftermath.

From the warring, hundreds of lives, perhaps more, are lost within seconds from Hailer's attack.

Whilst Goku doesn't need to worry about Gohan surviving the attack, it's still a relief to feel the heartbeat of energy exist from the blast zone. Less of a relief is the fate of the dragon balls. Surely, Hailer isn't so powerful that he was able to destroy them in one swipe of ki, right?

Then, unexpectedly, Goku sees the familiar flash of seven orbs bursting outwards. They're shooting stars, with two passing Goku either side, with aim to burrow themselves into the planet as secrets to be uncovered. No wish was made. Hailer is still alive. They are still here. All is still awful.

Conversely, there's a pleasured cry from the Tree of Might croons over the wind. Recycled energy is fed into its branches and the Tree positively swells with glee. Bark crunches from the growth spurt, more woody spindles snaking into the brutalized earth. The mass of black making up the trunk engorges colossally, and because of it, there is a groan of tectonic dissatisfaction from below, shaking the land. Goku has to wonder how long the planet will be able to hold up under all the pressure.
The air is thick with cold and the scent of impending destruction. Goku and Vegeta are somehow now side by side, the weight of the storm blending with the tension in their bodies. Hailer hovers ahead, his eyes gleaming with malice as he watches them with the calm arrogance of a predator toying with its prey.

"After witnessing the power of the one true Emperor of the Frost Empire, you two think you can defeat me?" he sneers. "Such is the misguided arrogance only befitting of saiyans... I wonder if the Dragon survived my hand. Does even Divinity shudder at my might?"

Vegeta's lips curl into a snarl.

"The Tree," Goku whispers, breathless from the display. Gohan hadn't been kidding—Hailer is incredibly strong, and he shouldn't be tested. They need to find a way to take the advantage.

"That thing looks ready to implode," Vegeta spits back, hushed. "The planet, then us, and then whatever is left of the dragon balls will be next."

"I don't think we've got much of a choice."

"Ascend to that next stage of yours. The one with the electricity!"

Something tells Goku not to give himself entirely away, not just yet. Using the chaos of the situation may be the only way to keep Hailer occupied until an opportunity presents itself, whether that's to take Hailer's ship or re-summon the Dragon (should it even be alive), Goku can't say.

In the nearby distance, there's a flash of light from where Gohan's energy can be felt. Hailer also looks over when Goku's knee-jerk reaction gives away his concern. A suggestion of amusement has the bastard's lips twitch, his attention bright as the war beyond commences. Gohan must be in the thick of it, lamenting the loss of the dragon, planning, plotting, and praying perhaps for an idea to strike.
"To love is a weakness," Hailer tells Goku, almost conversationally, as though advising him. His baritone carries loudly without any real effort as he takes out yet another flask hidden from within his armour. He takes a generous swill, and then gestures with it stiffly as a new wave of energy washes forward. "You had the opportunity to take power upon killing my brother, yet you didn't. Instead you wasted your life searching for the child who was contorted into a soldier, skewing what could have been a legacy of greatness. You could have had prestige. You could have had men at your disposal. You could have been me… if not for your weakness. I'll never understand it."

"Love is not a weakne—."

"You're not listening," Hailer chastises, throwing the flask aside. It clatters emptily. "To love is a weakness. I understand the strength in being loved. Whilst I have not employed it in my strategy, I see how it benefited that fool of a brother of mine."

"Frieza wasn't loved."

"Cooler," Vegeta supplies.

"Indeed. But in the end, it wasn't enough." Hailer casts an aura of pearly colouring around himself, his chin raised. "And it will not be enough here—not for Thirty-Two. You will die today, Super Saiyan. And I will use that love as a weapon to further contort him until he is broken, until all those around see what futility looks like. Love is a tool for the intelligent, you see. It is used to control the lesser. To hurt and control. To lord over the weak with. Allow me to demonstrate…"

Then, a gust of ki-tainted wind draws from behind Goku and Vegeta, heaving in towards Hailer, a sickly, heavy sensation to its signature. This is fed into the tip of Hailer's finger, which now glows a deadly red.

Vegeta drags him. "Come on!"

The towering Tree looms ahead—its massive roots stretching out like fingers clutching the earth. Goku and Vegeta exchange a look, a silent understanding passing between them. Without warning, Goku launches himself forward, a burst of energy trailing in his wake.

"Running away already?" Hailer taunts, his power flaring as it builds and builds and builds.

They reach the base of the tree. Goku leaps, his body twisting mid-air, landing nimbly on a thick root that stretches above the snow. Vegeta lands beside him, his eyes already calculating their next move. Hailer's energy isn't far behind, and they can feel it growing stronger by the second.

The Tree welcomes them like old friends, offering its branches out in embrace.

"Be careful!" Goku warns.

When Hailer's energy strikes, Goku isn't surprised that Gohan had been right in using the Tree as a shield. The strong, ki-filled branches work perfectly in defending them both from the worst of the blast, the branches cindering when struck but not depleting by any stretch of the word. It makes sense. This is the same ki that now runs through Hailer's system, the stuff that had been in his flask—the wine, Goku reflects—which gives him such a boost of power. Maybe the best method of defense against Hailer is the very energy stuck in this awful husk of wood.

God, it feels rancid. Goku hates even being near it.

The Tree feels quite the same, its vines lashing out aggressively as Goku traverses its web of branches. As he runs, jumping tricky foliage, in a crevice of green, Goku spots something shiny and orange. Vegeta is the one to snag it, appearing from nowhere, a fresh streak of burns discolouring his left arm.

A dragon ball.

So, they have been scattered then. Wait, can Gohan still sense them? Did the Dragon leave him as promised—or does it still reside within Gohan?

Goku extends his sensing ability to try and figure out where exactly Gohan is. He's still in a different location, but not exactly far. What's he doing? Is he okay?

"I don't think we'll have time to gather them!" Goku gets out.

"Then they're useless!" Vegeta groans. "All this effort for n—! "

When Hailer appears to Goku's right, it startles him, and on reaction, he sends out a ki blast. Hailer deflects it easily, a flick of his wrist sending the blast spiraling harmlessly into the air. But it works out to Goku's benefit. As the blast redirects, Vegeta shoots forward, a flash of blue light, his fist aimed straight at Hailer's jaw.

Hailer reacts just in time, catching Vegeta's punch with his hand, his eyes artic. "You're starting to annoy me."

With a sudden twist, Hailer swings Vegeta by the arm, hurling him through the air. Vegeta crashes into the snow, rolling to a stop just short of the tree's enormous roots. Goku doesn't hesitate. He manifests behind Hailer, his fist crashing into Hailer's back with a deafening impact. The bastard stumbles, snarling in pain.

Finally.

"Finally!" Vegeta calls, his voice a growl as he gets back to his feet. The ball has unfortunately been lost to the Tree, purposeless without its siblings.

Hailer grits his teeth, his energy surging. "Enough!" His body pulses with a violent, purple aura as he floats higher, eyes burning with rage. With a snap of his fingers, he unleashes a barrage of energy blasts, each one homing in on Goku and Vegeta like missiles.

Both leap into action, using the roots and branches of the tree to evade the blasts, darting in and out of cover. The blasts explode with violent force, chunks of snow and ice flying in every direction.

"This won't last much longer!" Goku shouts as he grabs hold of a thick branch, swinging himself out of the way of an oncoming blast.

Vegeta grits his teeth. "Then what do you suggest? I'm out of ideas!"

Really, Vegeta's never offered any ideas in the first place.

They regroup near the top of the tree, their eyes fixed on Hailer, who is now hovering in front of them, radiating silent hatred. He clenches his fists, charging up a devastating energy ball.

"This is it, Saiyans," he compels, his voice shaking the snow-laden branches. "The death of your race when no others were able to eradicate such… pests."

That's when, from the night void of stars, do they see shining pinpricks from within the clouds.

The growing specks above appear to be more than stars.

He squints, bent in two, chest hollowed in the midst of a deep, necessary breath.

Are they…? Above… they're… ships?

Goku takes this time to strike, managing a gutteral punch into a distracted Hailer.

---

Goku was at first concerned about this development, but upon sensing no energies from the high number of falling space pods, he'd felt a wave of relief. The pods were like shooting stars which battled the storm, diving down to the planet, one after the other, in quick succession, their landings sending ripples across the already shaking ground.

Hailer had noticed this, too, and from the streak of displeasure that had contorted his face, this wasn't his doing. He'd watched the pods whistle by, paused with ki dripping between fingers. The attack had been bound for Vegeta originally, who'd also watching this new rainfall.

Goku struggles to keep his breath, equally haggard. "An evacuation order."

"Maybe… But not by him."

Vegeta observes Hailer, turning greyer if possible. He's lost a lot of blood, his Super Saiyan transformation wavering occasionally, like a flickering light bulb in an already leaden room. Hailer has been clearly toying with them, enjoying the smaller bites he takes, savouring the flavor of murder. There'd been a live pleasure in Hailer's eyes at each mocking comment in Vegeta's direction. He'd known Vegeta's father, his mother, and, most importantly, Vegeta's once master, Frieza.

"He'd taken a fancy to countless young soldiers, but never you," Hailer had jabbed. "Too unpleasant to look at, even for him... Most embarrassing."

"Shut up!"

Hailer had laughed, just the once. It'd sounded soft, albeit practiced. "But he still had you at his feet, your tongue between his disgusting, filthy toes. What would your father think of it? How much shame would he feel knowing his son sunk so low?"

Vegeta hadn't been able to meet Goku's eye, not that Goku would ever think less of him for what this evil Empire put him through.

"You could have accepted your execution, taking your pride with you. Now, you have not even that. You have nothing."

That's not true, Goku hopes Vegeta understands. He has Bulma and Trunks, and he also has Goku, too. Vegeta has Earth and his second chance at life. He has choice. He has the freedom to be good.

"And where is your family?" Vegeta had sniped in return, throwing his arms wide, snapping the Tree of Might's greedy branches creeping up on him. "They're dead! At this point, there are more saiyans than your wretched line!"

Hailer had smirked, shaking his head, saying nothing. Even Goku had understood that Hailer has no care for his own, that his values were and are rich with self-gain.

"Don't bother," Goku had said.

It's a testament to Vegeta, however, whose values clearly do represent something good. Goku'd been proud of his friend in that moment, and also, he'd been hopeful for his son who walks a similarly sad path.

"You're right. He's pitiable," Vegeta had spat out. "It's clear to all that he's lost control of his pawns. The rooks are murdering one another. The knights are being trampled by their own horses. And the king is using petty words as his sword. Pathetic. Here I thought the Great Lord Hailer was different from his simple-minded brother, but in the end, he's the same."

Whilst stoic, Hailer's tail was a little more honest, its swatting behind steadily growing more and more agitated. That's when Hailer had begun cooking the energy attack.

And it's also when the mass of falling space pods sliced through the night.

"Vermin who refuse to die are the worst of all," Hailer seethes, his quiet anger bubbling through the tremor of his voice. So, this is an evacuation of some kind, and one not ordered by him.

Some natural instinct has Goku throw out an energy blast the moment Hailer reaches for his scouter. It's important, quite suddenly, that Hailer has not access to his line of communication—Goku doesn't want him to stop whatever is happening. Anything this bastard doesn't want must be good news.

Luckily, Hailer must have been distracted because the electronic quickly explodes, and he has to wrench it from his face and bury it in the snow. His teeth are bared. Open fury burns in the storm.

"You will be unable to evade the consequences of this decision, monkey!"

Goku's smirk aches. "Too bad you can't call your buddies to come watch."

"You fool!"

Hailer's energy surges, a violent aura enveloping his form. The air around him crackles with intense power, distorting the space as if the atmosphere itself cannot contain his might. His eyes narrow, and with a sneer, he clenches his fists, his pink aura flaring brighter. The ground trembles beneath him as his power escalates, sending shockwaves through the air. His body radiates an oppressive heat, and the sky above darkens with the sheer force of his Ki. Hailer revels in this destructive force, savouring the moment as his power reaches a new precipice.

The planet trembles violently as Hailer's power levels out, cracks forming in the earth beneath him. The ground shakes, splintering and quaking as if the very core of the world is being torn apart. Rocks and debris lift into the air, remaining there, submitting to Hailer in orbit. Beyond, because of the power, Goku registers the sound of mountains—or rather, volcanoes—erupting from the tectonic stress. Tree of Might or none, the planet really is done for.

Anxious, Goku feels along his obi for the couple of measly Senzu beans left.

"There's no end to his power!" Vegeta gasps.

"This power isn't his," Goku replies, low. "It's unearned. Stolen from the vulnerable."

As much as Goku appreciates a good fight, the dawning that this is manufactured power steals any thrill.

"That doesn't make him any weaker." Vegeta glances backwards. "We could eat the fr—."

"No. We do this the right way." Goku forces a swirl of power to cast outwards. His Super Saiyan energy is fizzing with electricity despite the fatigue. Still, he needs to be stronger… He's been training for years, and whilst he has felt the next ascension of this form at the tip of his fingers, he's never quite managed to attain it. How could this ever be enough?

He needs Vegeta to be stronger, too.

And Gohan…

Where is Gohan? The dragon balls are gone. Is he also going to leave like the others?

"Kakarot!"

Hailer materializes to his right, inches away from slicing Goku's neck red.

Their fight continues.

---

Earlier

Thirty-Two had been steps away from the Dragon. Steps. When Lord Hailer's energy struck the beast, he'd been ejected from the scene by the colossal turbulence of power, the spitting heat eating at his skin as he tumbled. He'd managed to claw into the ground, raking through the soil as the gales sentenced him southwards, his teeth grit painfully. Overhead, Thirty-Two notices several flashes of orange shoot into the air, round and definitely dragon ball reminiscent. They hover like an angel above before parting ways, unbothered by Lord Hailer's might as they glide over the land in varying directions.

Frustrated, Thirty-Two tries to follow where each ball may have coursed itself, his eyes darting chaotically until no longer can he follow the sporadic streams of light. This isn't good. Not at all. A well of panic bloats his chest as the sky above creeps into darkness. The Dragon is long gone—but where to? Thirty-Two can still sense everyone around, no longer inhibited by the Dragon's habitation of him. Does that mean he hasn't returned to Thirty-Two? That he decided to dwell in his dragon balls even without the wish being made? Even so, this planet is unstable; much like Namek had been all those years ago. And just like then… will the Dragon once more seek refuge in Thirty-Two?

Thirty-Two scans his surroundings, barely holding on. His heart thumps in his ears. Around, he doesn't sense a single dragon ball like he used to. They remain disconnected. It's both a blessing and a curse. He doesn't want to be associated with that serpentine bastard ever again.

But to not be able to find the dragon balls… what does that mean from now on?

Lord Hailer will win.

Thirty-Two finally stills when the blistering energy subsides.

It's over.

Then, the snow begins to fall once more. Thirty-Two doesn't move for a short time, his breath emerging as slow, sad clouds that dissolve into the blizzard. Everything up until this moment has been a waste of time, he reflects, wondering how many instances hope can be snatched from his weak, weary fingers.

Before he can submerge into a depression, there's a click of a firing astra that has him bounce.

Instinctively, he swivels, barreling over a bank of snow as a barrage of bullets soar overhead. On the other side, a small flank of armed men has gathered, firing in formation, likely shooting the sheenks lined bullets Thirty-Two knows would render him near useless.

Before the next rally, Thirty-Two positions himself atop the hard bound of snow. His hands overlap and from them, a golden heat with an ambition to kill bursts. The energy flies fast, hitting the men. Thirty-Two hears their cries over his own panting.

He's tired.

The time for rest isn't now however. More shots are fired and Thirty-Two is very nearly caught in the arm as he approaches them, more ki at the ready. With fewer than five men still standing, Thirty-Two makes quick work of them, at one point breaking an arm and using the unfortunate victim as a shield when more bullets want to bury into flesh. He launches the body, stealing the astra from its holster; with it, he then takes out two with efficient shooting. The last one dies from a headshot—but it's not by Thirty-Two.

Quickly, he cocks the astra in way of this new person. Another soldier.

The soldier isn't someone knows Thirty-Two by face. He hasn't a badge so isn't a captain. Still, he's followed by a number of men who seem to follow his instruction if their unified trepidation is anything to go by. They look at him—no, to him—as Thirty-Two has him face down his astra. The soldier's own astra is by his side, shaking just a little.

He's nervous. An easy kill.

Thirty-Two watches his eyes become drawn to what must be Thirty-Two's agitated, flickering tail. For months now, Thirty-Two hasn't taken a single life because of this strange direction he'd found himself journeying—because of what happened with Goku and Ytvl and Bulma—it'd made him sensitive to killing. He'd not wanted to admit it. This weakness. Yet, in the end, he'd just murdered these men without thinking twice about it. And as a Great Ape, he must have slain hundreds.

Killing these few won't be so difficult.

"Have you defected, Captain?" asks this lead soldier, sounding far more confident than he really is.

Thirty-Two considers his answer.

Even harder than it is to admit such an aversion to killing is the admission of defection.

"Yes," he ultimately acknowledges, keeping his arm steady. There aren't enough bullets for all of ten of them, but he has the ability to be creative.

The soldier stares down the barrel, and then up at Thirty-Two with an expression that isn't entirely decipherable. As though he's thinking in great deal about what sort of creature Thirty-Two is.

"Are you with the other saiyans?"

The recognition of Thirty-Two's beastly nature encourages him to lift the astra higher.

"Yes?" questions the soldier. "You are, right?"

…

"Then, we are not enemies," says the lead soldier, accepting Thirty-Two's silence as confirmation.

That's not true.

"We're allies!" cries out another soldier when Thirty-Two doesn't respond. He bumbles forward, very bravely and very stupidly knocking aside Thirty-Two's astra.

"Koloc!" gasps the leader, ensnaring Koloc backwards.

"We just want to escape this damn rock!" Koloc barks at Thirty-Two in the Southern language, but without the Southern accent. A centralist. "I don't give a crap about Hailer! I hope the Super Saiyan blows his damn head off! I always said he'd leave us to die—and now look! Look! This planet isn't going to last the night!"

As if to prove his point correct, behind, an unadulterated display of raw power shakes the ground. Lord Hailer has sent out his energy propulsion chasers; a nasty attack which rushes after its victims until it has engulfed them in its fiery hold.

Goku's own energy is also nothing to laugh off, at least, and from somewhere beyond the Tree, he is putting up the good fight. For however long he can keep this up, it's anyone's guess. Hopefully, Lord Hailer will have his hands full with both him and Vegeta until Thirty-Two can… well… what can he do? The Balls are gone…

"We want to take Hailer's ship," continues the leader.

Thirty-Two barely contains his scoff.

"No, really. We do."

"That ship can hold over three hundred men," Thirty-Two replies. "It feeds directly from his signature ship as a secondary vessel."

"Which means the Icier Cruiser must be barely outside of the atmosphere," says Koloc. "We just need to take down the soldiers on the ship without damaging it."

"Leaving Goku to die alongside Lord Hailer?" Thirty-Two bites out.

"Goku? Who? The Super Saiyan?"

Thirty-Two swallows his words. "You plan to abandon everyone else here."

"Well—Well… we could try going to the Icier Cruiser, and then we can send for everyone else."

"You'd be a traitor. Why would they help you? Lord Hailer chose everyone up on the Icier Cruiser. They'd be loyal to him, you fool."

Definitely stupid, Koloc pushes him hard against the chest. "Then, what? Shall we just accept our fate and die?"

Several other soldiers drag him backwards, and the leader apologizes for the idiot's outburst, blaming it on the fact that he's a recruit, that he's only eighteen winters, that he's scared.

"I want to see my da'!" Koloc blurts out thickly, clearly not sorry. "I promised him I'd come home—and home is on that stinking ship! It's the only way out of here! I'm not throwing away my opportunity to live when everyone else is also going to be scrambling to be on that ship! If I die it's going to be 'die trying'!"

"Captain," the leader tries. "You could overpower everyone on that ship easily, and you could pilot when none of us will be able to."

So, they need a captain to lead them.

Thirty-Two attempts to hide his incredulity. He's in absolutely no position right now to give any sort of order. How many mental breakdowns has he suffered in the last day alone? He wouldn't be—Wait… Wait a moment…

It hits him.

Good lord.

It slips out. "You want to hijack a ship… and none of you can even pilot."

The leader has the decency to look ashamed of the fact. Koloc does not. "Then help us!" he demands. "Don't you think you did enough damage when you were parading around as a giant monkey! Do the decent thing and help the rest of us, you dumbass saiyan!"

"Damn it, Koloc!"

"Koloc!"

"He's SORRY! Right, Koloc? Koloc!"

Thirty-Two considers his options, which aren't that many in number to begin with. The balls are scattered somewhere amongst this awful gravesite of the planet, all localized ships have been affected by Lord Hailer's forced power outage, and the communication devices within the divisions are about as useful as the ships—which begs the question, who could Thirty-Two contact anyway?

The only realistic exit plan involves this ship. Koloc, the idiot he may be is correct. A broken clock is right twice a day, so they say.

"I'll help you," Thirty-Two informs the squabbling lump of soldiers. Koloc, who had been snapped into a headlock, is especially expressive in his relief. "But you must follow my instructions without argument—especially you."

Koloc grins, saluting him.

---

The ship is without expensive spared; a shining example of what the Research Division can achieve without a financer's handcuffs keeping them grounded. Thirty-Two had seen Nami working on the plans for the propulsion system last year, but it'd hardly been an exciting project when compared to some of the smaller, non-Empire issued projects he'd revealed to Thirty-Two. There'd been a cool, unfinished, motorized bike that Thirty-Two hadn't even been allowed to touch, which had to be ignored in lieu of the propulsion system. Nami had grumbled and worked well into the long nights, as expected of the Research Division's best.

Thirty-Two can see Nami's handiwork in a few of the areas as he traverses the ship.

There is a wake of soldiers left to rot at its doors, and now the men following Thirty-Two are better armed with higher model Astras. Thirty-Two's new one lies in its holster, fat with sheenks rich ammo. He also stole a scouter from the captain he snapped the neck of, giving him the ability to listen in to the onboard radio communications. He eavesdrops as soldiers are sent rear ways to deal with them.

"A party is atop the stairs," Thirty-Two tells the group quietly. Even though he can sense their collected power, it's difficult for Thirty-Two, as unpracticed as he is, to be able to sense an exact number. According the radio communications, there is less than one unit.

Koloc has to be restrained by the cuff of his spandex. "A party? Think they'll wanna' dance?"

"Keep to my left," Thirty-Two disciplines him. Admittedly, Koloc is a great shot. But he's left-handed and nearly deafened Thirty-Two upon firing the Astra too close to Thirty-Two's ear.

"We're close," Koloc says excitedly, "I can smell the sea air. I can hear my mum reeling in a big'un. See the gulls flapping their white, little win—."

Pellets echo through the stairwell, raining down as a blackened sheet of sheenks. Of course, Koloc is shot first. Thirty-Two drags him to the floor, sliding across the metal and behind an alcove leading towards the elevator. Thirty-Two sends out a coned wave of energy from where he came, burning up a generous portion of the bullets. Still, the anguished cries of dying men follow. The ship grounds aren't going to be to their advantage, especially to Thirty-Two's, who works best outside in the wide, snowy mountains.

He could try destroying some of the stairs, making space, he considers as he buries his fingers in Koloc's flesh. The pellet isn't that deep, at least. So long as the exterior, the control centre and engine room remain intact, the ship should be able to run just fine.

"Uwaaghhhh—mmph?!"

Thirty-Two slaps his other hand over Koloc's mouth, and then tosses the bullet sideways. The sheenks bounces along with its burnt up siblings. Left is the small incision in Koloc's shoulder, not near any vital organs but not any small nick either. It'd been unfortunate that the bullet had just scraped by his armour plate.

"Get up," Thirty-Two orders anyway. "And keep your mouth shut. Shoot at a distance and press your other hand to the wound to contain the bleeding."

Koloc manages to nod, whiter.

Thirty-Two doesn't see him again, not even after they clean the cluster of soldiers from the stairwell. In the end, Thirty-Two doesn't destroy the stairs, although he does cause a fire to break out, essentially smoking out the enemy from their hiding places atop their perches. Smoke rises, and with it, soldiers fall.

"Smoke inhalation…" mumbles the leading soldier, the once supervisor of Thirty-Two's men. "Dirty fighting… Just what do they teach your lot at the Program?"

"How many men do we have left?" Thirty-Two instead counters with.

"I couldn't tell you, in the chaos."

Thirty-Two hums, knowing as much. Some have retreated to the fresh air of outside, likely hoping for Thirty-Two (and everyone else they deserted) to gut the ship for them.

"Should we advance, Captain?"

"Have some of the men put out the fire first."

"With what?"

"Look outside. Snow."

"Right. Should we break into two factions, then? I'll go with you and I'll have a group maintain the ship's entry point."

"Ye—."

Outside, a spike of energy distracts Thirty-Two, and with it, a gust of wind and a flash of unnatural light, momentarily brightening the shaking windows hot pink. The rise of ki steals Thirty-Two's breath, momentarily stunting him. The ships rocks, bouncing rightwards ever so slightly.

"Go," Thirty-Two manages. They haven't much time.

He thinks of Goku out there, staring down Lord Hailer, mistaken in the idealization that he has a chance against the wrath of evil itself. Vegeta's right. Goku is pigheaded. He'll fight Lord Hailer head-on. He won't fight dirty, not like Thirty-Two or Vegeta would, and because of that, Lord Hailer will play with him like a child would with an insect. He'll lovingly pluck at him, leg by leg.

Thirty-Two guns down daring soldiers as his group climbs higher. Only four men are with him now, including the once leader, and they keep needing to stop to replenish ammo.

"We'll need to use our ki," complains a soldier as he reloads his Astra, slipping in the bullets at speed.

"I'm not risking the ship," Thirty-Two returns, also reloading.

"Fine. You use your ki."

The insinuation is that Thirty-Two has better control of his energy than they have, which is a blatant inaccuracy. He's also exhausted right now, but he's not about to share that.

Outside, the world shakes once more, but they've become so used to the fact that nobody pays it attention, except for Thirty-Two who tries to ignore Lord Hailer's disgusting ki signature stretching indefinitely.

"Did you make a wish?" asks one of the soldiers, returning his Astra to its holster.

Thirty-Two turns to him.

"The Dragon of Legends," he says. "Or the Wishing Dragon. Frieza lost his mind because of it, or so they say, but he was already a crazy bastard before then. I didn't expect to ever see it."

"How do you know about it?"

The soldier waves a hand, embarrassed. "I reported to the Ginyu Force on Namek."

Thirty-Two doesn't hide his surprise. "You were on Namek? So you saw—."

"The Super Saiyan?" There's a laugh. "No, I was reassigned before then. I kicked myself about it for years, but to see it all happen again, now… How fate has a sense of humour. Still, as much as I'd like to shake that saiyan's hand, I'd more like to survive the day."

How hadn't Thirty-Two seen the cracks all along?

The people hidden in the uniform.

Once they ascend to the top level of the ship, it's easy pickings to take out the final few, even without the promise of violence. As soon as they break down the door, soldiers lie down their weapons at Thirty-Two's feet. Non-combatants offer themselves as prisoners.

Thirty-Two assesses the cockpit. Everything is beautifully familiar, as though made for Thirty-Two himself to take control of, to fly her away to the safety of a nearby space station. Beyond, looking out the window, Thirty-Two sees the other half of his men who made it outside, now defending the ship from entry from any and all who approach. It seems that Thirty-Two's cause is popular because their numbers have quadrupled.

It's all for themselves, Thirty-Two understands.

It oddly feels… wrong.

"Captain," says the once leader. "The men here say they wish to join our campaign."

Thirty-Two turns, evaluating them; a pile of men lumped together in the corner, quivering for their lives. They'd pointed their Astras at Thirty-Two today but were allies just yesterday, and now they wish to join hands with him once more. The whiplash only makes Thirty-Two less invested in the situation, despondent to it if only because it bears too much to think about.

"But we only have so much room on the ship," continues the once leader.

"We just want to live!" cries out one of the prisoners. "Please, Captain! Please!"

"Don't you remember me, Captain? I'm one of the researchers from the Research Division. I-I-I was under Researcher Nami! You are acquainted! Friends, right? Me, too! I… please!"

"I have a family, Captain!"

"Captain Thirty-Two, you were my captain dur—!"

"Be quiet!" barks the once leader, giving a swift kick into the thigh of one of the men. "You were ready to let us die! This is comeuppance!"

Outside, there is another flash of energy, and the planet shivers in the heat. Thirty-Two's hands curl around the control panel as he watches the clouds continue to bleed snow, now polluted with a girlish, awful pink so similar to his own energy. Behind, Thirty-Two hears grown men sob. Part of him thinks it would be easier out there—with them—on the battlefield, even if he wouldn't be able to hold a candle to Lord Hailer.

Thirty-Two could pilot this ship away and let all this play out. Let Lord Hailer murder Goku and Vegeta. Thirty-Two could find a way to inform Bulma maybe, and she would be able to wish them back with their Earth dragon.

But that would mean Lord Hailer would win.

Lord Hailer will win anyway, right?

He's so powerful.

And all the men will die.

And Thirty-Two will watch it happen, as usual.

Thirty-Two rests his head against the panel, willing his brain to work.

"Please!" Thirty-Two hears from behind. "We didn't know Lord Hailer was going to leave you all—we swear!"

"Liar!" sneers the once leader. "You chose cowardice over—!"

"Be quiet," Thirty-Two interrupts, slowly raising his head, sick to death of the bickering. "The only difference between us and them is that Lord Hailer chose them. Should he have chosen you, you would be sat amongst them."

"Captain, surely you can't be considering allowing these men passage. There are men here—men left to die to the Tree—who far more deserve their spots!"

Thirty-Two isn't suggesting such a thing. He turns to the researcher on the floor, the one who has shamed himself by sporting a warm, yellow puddle. Boots come to stand only feet away, and when he looks up, Thirty-Two recognizes a man seeing Death holding him by the throat.

"Researcher," Thirty-Two says, attempting calm. "I need you to put me in contact with the Research Division, with Researcher Nami."

"Wh-wh-what?"

"I'm sure you have his Scouter ID logged, and now I'll need you to put it into the control panel's main computer. I wish to have words with him. He was chosen to leave Central, too, wasn't he? To be saved with the rest of the Research Division. I doubt greatly so that Lord Hailer was arrogant enough to throw his brainpower away."

The researcher stares at Thirty-Two as though he's speaking a foreign language, but he does move, even if very slowly and with an awkward tremor that has him mistakenly type in the wrong code the first time. When he presses enter, and Nami's stubble-lined face appears, Thirty-Two nods at him a job well done.

It's maddening to think that only last year, Thirty-Two would have done the smart thing and flown this ship out of here, that he would gladly have sacrificed even his long lost father at the chance of being away from Lord Hailer. Overseer Cace can't track him down now. Pyrak is dead. So many shackles have been wrenched from the cut of his flesh.

Yet, replacing them is something else—something worse—an ache inside his chest, a frustration that no longer is Thirty-Two dealing with soldiers, but with people. He doesn't understand this feeling. He doesn't understand why, that when he thinks of Ytvl, he feels unsettlingly down. Before, Thirty-Two wouldn't have aided these soldiers. He would have crawled through vents and murdered quietly and efficiently until he was able to conquer the ship by himself. Koloc would have been killed for his disrespect. This once leader would have been murdered under the fear that he'd turn Thirty-Two into Lord Hailer the first chance he got.

Thirty-Two racks his knuckles against the cool metal of the control panel.

Having courage is more than being brave in one single moment. It's about surfing the trajectory of a righteous path. It's about integrity.

Thirty-Two fastens the headset the moment Nami's face appears in the video screen. Nami is in a control room of his own, framed by a team Thirty-Two remembers well, including the once recruit, Glellork, who, upon spotting him, ambles over in way of the camera.

"Captain!" Thirty-Two hears from him, despite Glellork not wearing the headset. He's as white as a sheet, with eyes red and watery.

"Thirty-Two," Nami then breathes out, equally as shocked. He doesn't look much better, clearly exhausted, and pallid even, with deep wrinkles cutting along his face. Thirty-Two can't help but wonder how much notice they were given before being forcibly evacuated from the planet. How many of their colleagues were they made to abandon?

"Researcher Nami," Thirty-Two greets, attempting professionalism, which is difficult when Nami must be now fully aware to what sort of beast Thirty-Two is. Nami has never hidden his dislike of the Saiyan people, and he has never once shown support for Goku and his plight, so this is all going to come as a hard sell on Thirty-Two's behalf. He attempts joviality. "You look awful."

Nami stares as if Thirty-Two is a ghost.

Behind, Thirty-Two is vastly aware that he has an audience of half-dead soldiers and researchers. He clears his throat, and then says, low. "I need your help."

"What's he saying?" Thirty-Two hears Glellork ask in both the Common and the Southern language.

Nami runs a hand down and along his face. The sound is akin to rubbing sandpaper. "Thirty-Two, what have you done?" he finally gets out in a gravelly, tired whisper.

Thirty-Two bites the inside of his mouth. "I know… I became a monster."

There is a contemplative noise. "You did. I saw. A giant, stupid monkey that destroyed Central and murdered thousands."

Glellork looks horrified at the honesty, but Thirty-Two knows that this is the truth, and he doesn't have any argument for it. "Lord Hailer was always going to plant the Tree of Might," Thirty-Two replies, leaning on this truth. "He wanted to take Goku's power for his own."

"The Super Saiyan."

Thirty-Two nods an affirmative.

Nami doesn't react, glaring forward with an infinitely long stare.

"I need your help," Thirty-Two repeats, firmer this time. "You could save the lives of all the soldiers here."

"He's your father, isn't he?"

Thirty-Two freezes, and then glances behind him, recognizing the fog of apprehension in the men behind. They cannot hear, thankfully—but the researchers pretending not to listen can. Nami doesn't seem to begrudge this, and he doesn't seem to want to provide assistance until he is given his answers.

"Nami…"

"Do you have a name?"

Thirty-Two forgets for a moment that he's in the midst of war, and that, outside, Lord Hailer is raining vengeance upon them.

"He's my father," Thirty-Two admits, because that feels easier.

Here, someone must have heard him and put two and two together as there is now a distracting murmuring of conversation.

It's enough to snap Nami out of his stupor. His hand contains the shock from falling out his mouth. "How are you a saiyan? You… You're nothing like them."

"Goku is good," Thirty-Two defends, heatedly at that.

"And Vegeta?"

Less good, but not all bad.

Thirty-Two's mouth snaps to a shut, only opening to yet again beg for help. "We need ships. Pods. Hundreds of them. I know the Icier Cruiser has the capacity—and I know that you can issue the order, that you have the power to do so."

"I can't."

"You must."

"I have a family," Nami bites back. "I can't jeopardize that. They'll kill them and then me, and then my team if—."

"Goku can win this!" Thirty-Two interjects. He hits the control panel, shocking even himself with the outburst. "I… I… He can." The more Thirty-Two says it, the more he believes it. Only now does he understand why didn't take this ship for himself. Even though Lord Hailer is impossibly powerful, a tiny, unrelenting part of Thirty-Two refuses to believe that Goku can't do this. "He killed Lord Frieza before. I know it. I was there. He became a super saiyan and tore that evil bastard apart—."

Nami's eyes blow wide. "Thirty-Tw—."

"If anyone will defeat… Hailer… it will be Goku."

Expressionless, Nami can only watch Thirty-Two struggle to hold his composure through the camera.

"What's he saying?" demands Glellork. "What does he need? Why does he look like the walking dead? What's happening?! I don't understand what you're saying! Speak slower!"

Nami rubs the tired from his eyes. "You were with them, with the Super Saiyan, before, weren't you, when you went missing for all those weeks?"

"Yes." Thirty-Two breathes out a held breath. "I'm sorry to ask this of you. I appreciate that you care about your family—."

"I'd be betraying the Frost Empire," Nami says, weak and high-pitched, with a frog in his throat.

"The Empire is dead," Thirty-Two stresses. "It's eaten itself. The power has imploded from within."

Nami leans back in his chair, horrified. Glellork is mutely needling him for something—anything—from this conversation, as the men and women behind talk amongst themselves. Although Thirty-Two can't hear it, some of the researchers are talking to Nami, who speaks back, his hand covering the microphone to ensure privacy.

"Is the Super Saiyan really your father?" asks the once leading soldier. Thirty-Two pushes aside the moment Nami returns his attention to the camera.

"It could have been you and your family that was deserted here," Thirty-Two says before Nami speaks. "Children have been forsaken."

"Children… have always been forsaken," Nami says with a purposeful heaviness. "Don't think I haven't watched how you were treated."

"Don't pity me."

"It's true."

"Then help me. Help the soldiers, and researchers and engineers, and the teachers, the children, and whoever else Hailer has thrown away." Thirty-Two thinks of the babies he burned at the Youth Program. He thinks of the conscripts that were shot for not being strong enough. "Have courage," he finds himself echoing, "and save these people here."

Nami growls. It's a long, painful sound that catches at his throat, muffled if because his entire face resides in the palms of his hands.

Silence holds them still like the eye of a storm. Only outside does Thirty-Two hear the singing of wind and the faraway wails of warring energy.

Then, there's a jerk of the head.

Confirmation.

Yes.

Yes!

Nami then calls the order, and several men scramble from behind in order to contact the relevant departments. Pods will be sent. Their entire fleet. That must be over five hundred in availability.

"You've signed my death warrant," Nami says after the deed is done.

"Flee," Thirty-Two advises. "Take what you can and who you can and go."

Nami strains a smile as chaos ensues around him. Even Glellork has been dragged off to commit to his duties.

"Is he sending the ships?" then asks the once leading soldier from Thirty-Two's right. All eyes are painfully pinned on him in that moment.

When Thirty-Two nods, the ship erupts in a joyous roar. Prisoners and rebels alike become married in their relief. Those who were crying now weep for a different reason.

Thirty-Two feels the once leader clap a hand comradely against his shoulder. He turns to him when Thirty-Two issues the following order. "Announce it across the speaker system. Play it at maximum volume and tell all soldiers to spread the word. This is now a recovery mission. I repeat, we are not at war with one another. I don't care who Hailer chose and didn't choose. Pods will land at… at—."

"The West Shipyard," Nami supplies. "It's the only untouched ground. Coordinates will be preset to the nearest space station."

"West Shipyard," Thirty-Two relays. "Coordinates are to Hoarfrost Root Space Station."

"Yes, Captain!" When he goes, the other rebels slowly help their prisoners to their feet. How strange it is that words can hold so much power. From enemy to comrade, so hurriedly they turn.

Thirty-Two turns back to the video call to see Nami smiling, sad around the eyes, and all at once, Thirty-Two realizes that this is goodbye. The only worthy thing about Thirty-Two's suffering at Central was that Nami was there to support him, to give him reprieve, and even now, in Thirty-Two's most dire need, Nami has again pulled through. "I can't do anything else from my side. The rest is up to you, kid."

Thirty-Two was never really alone, was he?

"Thank you," Thirty-Two says.

"You take care of yourself. Survive this, Thirty-Tw…" There's a pause. "Wait… Before you go… You have a name, haven't you?" Sensing the unease, Nami pushes harder. "Oh… you do."

Thirty-Two grimaces.

"Fine. Don't tell me then." There's a spirited click of the tongue. "You've not been a number since you returned anyway."

Thirty-Two looks over his shoulder to find the men rather preoccupied with their desertion.

A breath is taken.

"It's… It's… Gohan," he whispers, reluctant.

Nami blinks, seemingly caught off-guard by the admission. "I see," he allows. "Not very saiyan-like, so I suppose it suits you."

Thirty-Two permits a laugh. He smiles. "Be well, Researcher."

"You, too… Don't die out there, kid."

---

The battle rages on. Like final palpitations, Planet Central trembles beneath the feet of Goku, Vegeta, and Hailer as they clash in a devastating confrontation. Around them, the landscape is destroyed—craters and jagged rock formations litter the surface, remnants of the fierce combat that has been unfolding for what feels like an eternity. The skies above are thick with space pods coming and going, the mass amount of soldier energies disappearing into space.

Goku grits his teeth as he barely dodges another energy blast from Hailer. His body is battered and bruised, covered in cuts and burns from the relentless assault. Vegeta, too, looks weary, his armour cracked and torn, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Their energy is low, their strength almost spent, yet neither of them is willing to give in. They'd refuse to yield even if the Earth dragon could bring them back a million times. Until Goku has Gohan in his hands and they are able to finally go home, he'll fight. He'll fight and fight until he mounts their corpses.

Deep down, Goku realizes that he'll be fighting forever so long as the Empire's heart beats.

Right now, the heart, Hailer, hovers above them, his pink aura blazing with an almost mocking brightness against the snowy backdrop. His energy pulses effortlessly, a dark gleam in his eyes as he watches Goku and Vegeta stumble and stagger brokenly. The world beneath them is crumbling into nothingness, and the Tree of Might stands in the distance, its roots twisting deep into the dying planet, siphoning away its life force.

Really, they are barely holding on. Their bodies are near done for—clothes torn, skin lacerated, and blood staining the snow beneath their feet. Goku's movements are sluggish, his breath laborued, while Vegeta's expression is twisted with pain, his every motion a struggle.

Hailer's power is unrelenting, as if he hasn't exerted an ounce of effort in this entire battle. With a lazy flick of his wrist, a blast of energy races toward them, consuming the space between them in an instant. The impact sends both Goku and Vegeta crashing into the snow-covered earth. They skid to a halt, the force of the blast splitting the ground beneath them, and the tremors reverberate through the planet.

They're no better than punching-bags at this point!

Goku's fingers twitch. His head is dizzy, his vision blurring as he struggles to rise. He pushes himself off the ground, his muscles screaming in protest. Every movement feels like an eternity of pain. Vegeta does the same, his face set in a grimace as he drags himself to his feet, his aura flickering weakly.

Hailer doesn't move. He simply watches them, his cold eyes calculating, his body hovering in place with the ease of a predator toying with its prey. The air crackles with energy as he effortlessly summons another sphere of destruction, his fingers barely moving as he shapes the blast with the precision of someone who has never known defeat.

Without warning, Hailer hurls the blast toward them, and it explodes on contact. The earth splits apart, sending chunks of debris flying in every direction. Snow turns into steam as the temperature spikes, the ground beneath them splitting open like a wound in the planet's skin.

The shockwave knocks Goku and Vegeta back once again, sending them tumbling through the air like ragdolls. They crash into the jagged rocks, splintering them, and for a moment, they do not move. The pain in Goku's body is overwhelming, but they, both he and Vegeta, rise once more, dragging themselves from the rubble, their eyes locked on Hailer. There is no surrender in their gazes—only resolve, however faint it may be.

"S-S-Spirit… B-Bomb…" Vegeta manages.

Goku shakes his head numbly. There isn't the time. Vegeta won't be able to hold his attention alone for more than a minute.

"T-T-Too risk… risky." Goku pants. Besides, there isn't enough energy left on the planet. The Tree of Might is doing a good job at consuming any and all—and still, despite being so busy draining the planet; it manages to take many healthy swipes at Goku as it does so.

Though, that's not to say they aren't thankful for the Tree right now. Using its eccentric body as a shield from Hailer's more aggressive attacks has been a saving factor on numerous occasions now. Gohan had been clever to suggest it.

"N-N-Not risky," Vegeta splutters. "Tree."

But that's why it's risky!

The expression must have been enough. Vegeta slaps at his already very injured arm. "Tree… energy!"

Goku shakes his head in incredulity. "T-Tree?"

"TREE!"

Vegeta somehow finds the vigor to dash forward. Alone. A tail of gold dazzles in his trail as he ascends to be once again punished by Hailer, surviving by the skin of his teeth when he ducks behind one of the Tree's fattest branches. Goku watches as Hailer sends out blast after blast, lethargic with sadism as Vegeta, like prey, scampers away into the nearest cranny. His anger has plateaued into cruel delight, giving Goku chance to observe for just a moment.

He shakes his head in disbelief.

There is… no skill to Hailer's technique. There is no talent. Just a lazy commander with a big gun and infinite ammo.

Boom. Blast. Boom. Blast. Boom…

Once again, Vegeta takes refuge behind the Tree of Might.

The Tree, Vegeta says…

Oh. Oh—would that even work?

Goku looks between his own filthy, bloody hands and the Tree of Might, a possible beacon of hope hidden in its hellish intent. Does Goku even have enough of his own energy to summon a Spirit Bomb? His Super Saiyan transformation has lessened to its primary state, the electricity a thing of the past.

The senzu beans hidden in his obi feel like the weight of the world. Should he have one now? Then, he'll have a better chance with energy utilization.

There's a cry of pain in the distance.

Vegeta.

One of the blasts has finally hit its mark. Vegeta's left side looks like its cindering, even from this distance. Goku can see how the burns run through exposed flesh, blood bursting through the swelled vessels. Steam ascends even from the spike of his hair as Vegeta is barely able to hold himself up.

Another blast of ki builds.

"MOVE!" Goku screams—but it's too late.

It can't end like this!

No!

Goku hadn't even started summoning energy.

A luminous, effervescent blob of fuchsia curls in his direction, and Goku is too tired and too injured to do anything about it. He swallows a bean in that moment, hoping it'll be enough to reach him—but it isn't.

"Vegeta!"

The explosions sounds and a blanket of icy wind slams Goku backwards and into the Tree of Might's unforgiving bark. Even the Tree has been caught unaware and its branches stumble in the chaos of it all. Leaves join the snowfall, which has pillowed into a mass of cloud that smothers the battlefield.

Goku charges forward, rejuvenated from the senzu bean, the familiar Super Saiyan energy at its peak once more. Electricity spits as he maneuvers through the cloud. For some reason, he can still just about sense Vegeta. Did it miss? Did he manage to survive that insane blockade of ki? Did he—?

He breathes out a noise of relief that squeezes his heart empty.

Gohan!

Amongst the hovering debris and fogged snow, Gohan stands with Vegeta draped over one shoulder, his gun pointed. His eyes are hardened in focus, Hailer barely twenty feet away.

Hailer considers Gohan with the same appreciation one might have for dog dirt under a shoe. "You didn't run away, as I suspected."

The gun remains between them, directly in line with Hailer's nose.

"You saved Vegeta," Hailer continues, stepping forward, unbothered. "You must see the irony. I was simply attempting to fix the mistake you let slide by twice. Or, perhaps, have you a fondness for him?"

That dry personality Goku's seen below the surface bobs its head; Gohan laughs. "Don't go so far."

Hailer smirks at this, amused, too. It dies as quick as it appeared, however. "Tell me, Thirty-Two, was it you who ordered the deployment of the pod ships?"

Gohan's jaw tightens. The nerves are creeping back in, now so visible when Goku knows how to look for them.

So, Gohan was the one who organized the evacuation. He must have saved hundreds of people in that action.

A wealth of pride has Goku step forward. "That kinda' ruffled your feathers, huh?" Goku prods, smirking. "Looks like all your friends have turned their back on you. Who's even left?"

Hailer sees a new problem. "How are you healed?" he demands.

"I've got a few tricks."

Hailer's upper lip disappears in a sneer—and then, once more, it's gone. With a final, indifferent motion, Hailer raises both hands, his power reaching new, terrifying heights. The energy pulses around him, and without warning, he releases a massive shockwave, one that shatters the ground beneath them. The wave ripples outward, overwhelming the surrounding landmass once more.

Goku's better prepared for these energy-fuelled tantrums, and he drags both Vegeta and Gohan through the air and behind the Tree of Might's girth. He's panting again.

"The Tree of Might will be absorbing all this ki," Gohan gets out quickly, the world beyond him an unbearable white. He's flat against the bark. "If he eats the fruit once it emerges then it'll be a monstrous boost of power. I guarantee this is his plan."

"You came back," Goku instead says, grinning. "You saved Vegeta."

"Goku."

"You could have left."

"We don't have time for th—. Is that one of your healing beans?"

"My last one," Goku says, holding it up. Carefully, he manages to separate it into two nearly equal halves. He presses one half to Vegeta's lips, pushing it through. He slaps a cheek to wake him. "C'mon, Vegeta. You've gotta' chew it up, bud."

The other half is pressed into Gohan's hand. As Vegeta rouses with a pop of energy, Gohan holds the bean like one would a precious gem stone. "You sh—."

"I've taken one. A whole one because I'm a greedy jerk." Goku grins, the light beyond the tree subduing at a hastening pace. "This is yours. It won't put you back at full strength but it'll be enough to keep you on your feet. Take one of those pod ships and—."

Gohan becomes about as expressive as Goku's yet seen him. "And leave? You're joking, right?!"

"This is dangerous."

"I know! That's why I returned—because I understand how he operates. You'll need me to survive this!"

"Gohan—."

"You don't get to decide."

"Yes, I do!"

"Kakarot," Vegeta says, somewhat still hoarse. He does look a lot better, even if he's still glassy eyed and evidently exhausted. "We need him for the Spirit Bomb. You were right. I can't deal with him alone, but together we can keep Hailer distracted."

Gohan turns to Vegeta. "What's the Spirit Bomb?"

Absolutely not.

"No away!" Goku denies. "Gohan, I need you to go. Right now—."

"It draws energy from living things, which means, logically, the Tree should be a prime target," Vegeta explains, slapping said tree. "But it takes time to charge up. Quite a lot of time."

"He's not staying, Vegeta—."

Gohan spins. "How much time?"

"Kakarot, don't coddle—!"

Goku takes Gohan by his shoulders. His fingers dig into the flesh. "Don't you remember what happened the last time we were on a dying planet? On Namek?"

It's surprising when Gohan laughs. It's dry and disdainful and without real amusement. "No, I don't."

"Gohan, I'm being serious. I… I…" Goku closes his eyes. "I won't lose you again."

Predictably, Gohan doesn't like brazen affection. He flinches and immediately pulls free. "I'm not a child anymore."

"Yes, you are. You're fifteen. But, y'know, even if you were twenty or thirty, I wouldn't let you near that psycho ever again. I won't make the same mistake. Not again."

Gohan's eyes widen just a fraction.

"Kakarot, we need him."

"If we die then Bulma can wish us back," Goku points out.

"I want him dead. You won't understand but the boy does," Vegeta returns, hot. "And we can do this now. If we use that energy inside the Tree of Might, we can overpower him."

Gohan's already thinking it over. "The Tree of Might…"

"He's not staying."

"It'll work!"

"Yes," Gohan agrees, excited at the idea of it. "If this Spirit Bomb really incorporates an enemy's own power then I think it could be enough. The only person powerful enough to defeat Hailer would be Hailer himself. We need to use his power source against him. With a technique like that… we may stand a chance to really take him down—if we're smart."

The drop in honorific has Goku smile. Finally, they're getting through to Gohan.

But, still… "Vengeance isn't worth risking you, Gohan."

"To you, maybe." Gohan stands, hauling Vegeta up, whether he likes it or not. "I'm going with Vegeta." There's a flash of determination in those dark, almond shaped eyes, and Goku, for the first time, so clearly, can see Chi-Chi. "I… I already made my decision not to leave. For me, there is no escape until he is dead. Hailer will… he'll never let me go because of my connection to both you and immortality."

Goku stands, too. There is a moment of contemplation. Not too long, of course, with Hailer scouring the densely knotted Tree of Might for their hideaway.

"I can't die," Gohan reminds him.

Goku lets loose a long breath.

"I'm doing this anyway. Vegeta, let's go."

"Okay, I get it! I get it!" Goku scratches at the back of his neck, admittedly frustrated. "So… I need around five to seven minutes for the Spirit Bomb. Think you can do that?"

Some of that bravado disappears at the prospect of playing bait for so long. "That's… Yes, I can do that."

Turning to Vegeta, Goku gives him a pointed look. Vegeta's first priority now is to protect Gohan, which doesn't seem to be a problem unexpectedly. There's a curt nod. The fact that Gohan just saved Vegeta's life (at the risk of severe injury) may have changed his tune a bit. Knowing Vegeta, he'll see it as a life debt or something.

"Be careful," Goku instructs.

Gohan's face has returned to its usual impassiveness, signaling that he's already back in work mode.

"C'mon, boy, before he changes his mind." Vegeta steps into the blanket of white. "All right, here's the plan. Seeing as your ground bound, I'll remain in the air and…" Gohan follows after him without so much as a glance back, their conversation trailing after them with dying volume.

Goku sends a silent prayer that they all get to leave together after all this. And then, with a deep breath, he closes his eyes and focuses. He stretches his hand toward the sky, his fingers trembling from the strain, and summons his energy forward to drag at the ki being offered. The world seems to pause as his aura flares, and a golden light begins to gather above him, forming a massive ball of energy. The Spirit Bomb—his final hope—begins to take shape.

He moves away from the shadow of the Tree, although the proximity to it was helpful in the sphere's manifestation. The Tree doesn't want to release its energy so Goku has to drag it out, which may mean that this entire process could take even longer.

The wind howls, and the snow swirls violently around him, as though the planet itself is resisting the creation of such immense power. Goku grits his teeth, pushing through the pain, feeling the weight of the dying world pressing down on him. But he won't stop. Not now.

His voice is barely a whisper, but it carries across the wasteland, a silent plea for help. "Give me your energy..."

Beyond, Goku can sense the throes of warring. Through closed lids, a skid of light passes Goku by. Energy detonates and the planet's quaking worsens. Where it once stopped, now, planet Central continuously grumbles.

Daring to open an eye, Goku looks up at the growing energy atop him. It's generous although still not big enough. He moves even further from the Tree, which makes no move against him. It must recognize its own power, Goku reflects.

Just below, the air vibrates with Hailer's ki as the tyrant continues to rain destruction down upon the battlefield. Goku now watches as Vegeta and Gohan relentlessly engage Hailer, their attacks coordinated despite the odds. Vegeta charges in first, his speed and precision a blur as he delivers a series of rapid punches to Hailer's face. The force of the blows sends shockwaves through the air, but Hailer is unfazed, his aura barely flickering.

A punch misses with dramatic distance. It wasn't Vegeta's best.

Hailer doesn't react, an eerie calm in his eyes, before retaliating with a violent swipe of his tail that sends Vegeta flying back. Vegeta skids across the ground but quickly recovers, rolling to his feet with a snarl. Without hesitation, he launches himself back at Hailer, his fists glowing with energy.

Gohan is as quick as ever, leaping into the air with a blast of energy that explodes upon contact with Hailer's shoulder. The blast sends a ripple through Hailer's body, but once again, he doesn't show any sign of real injury. Instead, Hailer snarls and raises his hand, firing a beam of energy that narrowly misses Gohan as he dives out of the way.

He says something to Gohan that Goku cannot hear clearly, which must have affected him to some degree because Gohan's form becomes sloppier. Unpolished.

He's always been sensitive, Goku reflects, almost fondly.

"He'll be fine, Chi!" Goku had assured from his hospital bed ten years prior. "He'll be with Krillin and Bulma, and besides, Namekians are peaceful people according to Mr. Popo!"

"Gohan is too sweet and soft to be that far away from his mother," Chi-Chi had attested. "He's sensitive."

The battle rages on above Goku, but he cannot afford to lose focus. His fingers ache from the effort of gathering the energy for the Spirit Bomb. He feels the Ki gathering above his hands, slowly forming into a swirling sphere of light. The air around him shimmers with the gathering power, a beacon of hope in the midst of chaos. The planet is dying, but this power might be their only shot at saving it. His body screams for rest, but Goku pushes through, drawing more energy from the Tree.

"You haven't seen him since Namek?" Goku had repeated, an ice-cold creep subduing his body. Bulma and the others had been horrified at the revelation, and they stood in the wake of Trunks' warning of the androids unknowing on what to prepare for.

"We thought Gohan was with you," Bulma had said, already crying. Panicking and Guilt-ridden.

Goku's brows twitch and sweat prickles at his forehead. The weight of the Spirit Bomb is starting to ache his joints.

Vegeta and Gohan continue to hold off Hailer, keeping him occupied with relentless attacks. Gohan's movements are fluid, dodging Hailer's energy blasts while delivering swift strikes. He lands a punch to Hailer's stomach, causing the tyrant to flinch for a moment before retaliating with a devastating kick that sends Gohan crashing to the ground. But Gohan doesn't stay down for long, springing back to his feet, his aura flaring with renewed intensity.

He's strong.

So, so strong.

"He's strong, Chi-Chi," Goku had said to her at her funeral. It'd been an open casket, which Goku thought was awful because she hadn't looked like herself at all. She'd been waxy and sickly. Her hair wasn't styled as she liked it either.

"He'll survive this… because he's strong. You weren't, but he is."

He hadn't been able to forgive her.

"Gohan won't understand why you abandoned him," he'd told her, throat tight. "And I don't understand why you abandoned me, too. I need you."

His hands had tightened against varnished the wood of her casket.

"I'm lonely, Chi-Chi. I need you here, too."

Hailer's gaze shifts, his golden eyes narrowing as he watches Goku's efforts. "So, you're trying size over substance, now?" Hailer scoffs, his voice dripping with disdain. "How desperate you must be. Do you think that will do any damage to me? I have the power of millions—of billions—coursing through me."

Goku ignores him, his focus entirely on the Spirit Bomb. His hands shake from the strain, but the ball of energy continues to grow, pulsing with raw power. It's getting bigger. Goku knows he's getting closer, but he can feel Hailer's energy spiking, too. Time is running out.

"Cell's dead, the Earth doesn't need me. I can head out back into space as I please," Goku had said, packing his belongings into his humble duffle bag. He'd only be back on Earth a week and hadn't been able to stand it, especially with it coming up to the ten-year anniversary of Gohan's disappearance. "Gohan is sti—."

"I know. Gohan's still out there. You can't abandon him. You're his father. He's waiting for you," Krillin had reiterated all Goku's many points. "I know you'd rather die trying to find him than actually live. Don't look at me like that. I'm not saying it's wrong. I'd do the same for my little girl in a heartbeat."

"Then, what are you saying?"

Krillin had sighed, plopping down onto Goku's bed. His face had been in his hands. "I loved that kid, y'know."

"Love. Gohan's still alive."

There'd been a strained smile from his friend. "I know." He'd flopped backwards. "Eighteen is mad at me about it all. She said that looking for Gohan is a fruitless task—that we'd never find him. She thinks you need to let Gohan go to even have a little bit of a life."

"I don't care what she has to say about it." Goku had never enjoyed discussing the Gohan situation with her. "Though, that doesn't explain why she's mad at you."

"Because I'm coming, too," he'd said with a deep resilience. "Because that kid haunts me in the same way he haunts you, Bulma and Piccolo."

And then Krillin had been killed. Very ironically so.

Presently, Hailer's golden form flashes again, and he spins to face Gohan and Vegeta, launching another powerful barrage of energy blasts toward them. Vegeta blocks most of them with rapid defence, his energy flaring, while Gohan dodges and counterattacks. A massive blast from Hailer collides with the ground between them, throwing them both into the air. Gohan lands on his feet first, his chest heaving as he regains his stance. Vegeta quickly follows, his glare focused entirely on Hailer.

Keep him busy just a little longer, Goku thinks, silently urging them on. The Spirit Bomb is close now. He can feel it, the raw energy building, ready to be unleashed. Goku's breath quickens, sweat dripping down his face, but his determination remains steadfast.

"Aren't you tired?" Goku had asked. On the fifth night aboard the Capsule Corporation ship, the others aboard had been asleep aside him and Piccolo, which felt very natural. Piccolo has always been his most common companion on these trips; his closest ally in finding Gohan.

"I need less sleep than you saiyans. You know that."

Goku had hummed, staring at the passer-by stars. "I don't need that much sleep, not compared to humans, I think. Vegeta's the same. I can get by on four hours nightly if I wanted."

"So, you're just lazy."

"Ha-ha, I guess, so." Goku'd smiled at his own reflection coming into focus. "Gohan, however… man… Talk about a lazy bones. He'd always wanna' take a nap right here—right on my lap."

"That's because you spoiled him."

"Oh, he was so cute, though. Don't pretend he wasn't."

"He was never like that with me."

Grinning, Goku had quickly teased his friend. "Liar. He adores you."

Piccolo had remained sober. "Son, he probably doesn't he even remember me."

Had it hurt Piccolo, Goku wonders, to be right?

Gohan remembers Goku—and only Goku.

Hailer fires another beam toward Gohan, who narrowly dodges it, the blast cutting through the air with a sharp hiss. Vegeta moves in again, his Ki flaring as he counters with a devastating barrage of energy blasts aimed at Hailer's head. But Hailer is relentless, parrying every blow with ease, his smug expression never faltering.

Goku's hands are now raised high, the Spirit Bomb pulsating with an intensity that shakes the very air around him. He can feel the energy of the planet itself flowing into the attack, pulling from the very core of the world. It's almost there… just a little more…

"There's something about him…" Goku had mumbled to himself upon watching Thirty-Two being strapped down to the bed upon being brought in. Back when Cilo had been just Ytvl and Lya, and Gohan had been Thirty-Two, Goku hadn't known how everything would lead back to Namek.

How his son had been tied up in the Frost Empire.

Had been connected to Goku's unfinished business.

Had been so infinitely hurt by Goku's murder of Frieza.

Gohan…

It's all led up to this, hasn't it?

He breathes, shaking.

The planet is dying, and so is their time. But Goku doesn't look away. He focuses on the Spirit Bomb, letting the energy build, feeling the power surge in his hands. Vegeta and Gohan continue to hold off Hailer, but the outcome of this battle rests on Goku's success. With a final push, he gathers the last of the planet's energy. It's time.

Gaze connected with his son's, the Spirit Bomb takes flight.