Glace
11-16-2002, 10:27 PM
This is the DBAH I never finished because I didn't like the direction it was taking. However, I'll post it here just incase anyone wants to check it out.
DBAH:
Intermission
Eric Kinneary
I
“Super Kaio-ken!” a voice rocketed. A blue ball of energy twined its way down, taking hold of his body and shaking it roughly. The man’s body was tossed like a rag doll to the ground, pure energy barreling onto his weakened form, slicing him in half under the intense heat. He tried to fight back, but the extreme pressure was too much for him to take. The energy slowly dissipated, leaving him alone, bleeding across the spongy ground he was surrounded by. And as time passed, he could see another figure hiding high in the sky, only his outline vaguely visible. And laughter... Laughter filtered down through the air to reach his ears. It wasn’t a cold laugh. Or a warm laugh. It was simply... a laugh. But it still pierced his skin, filling him with remorseful dread, and unimaginable fear. It threatened insanity with its monstrosity, never ceasing, not for a moment. It was pure torture...
And he’d brought this about. His loathing of others. His hate for the admirable. It was all his doing. He could have prevented it. It was never his place to judge others; it was never his place to punish. But he did. And in turn, he too was punished. He would pay the price for the rest of eternity, the laughter always haunting him, never resting. But such was the way of Hell. And this was his hell. For attempting destruction where only peace existed, his punishment was supreme. It would never end. As long as he existed he deserved eternal confinement, eternal damnation, trapped within himself. And then... ever so slightly... he began to hear his tormentor whisper his name...
“Diamao... Diamao...”
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Piccolo awoke with a start, gasping for air. He heard it again. Sometimes Diamao’s thoughts would leak quietly into his mind while he slept, causing him to wake up panting. It was one of those nights again. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was, but after glancing down quickly he was reminded that he was still perched atop Mt. Kaio-kaikai, the highest mountain in Other World. He had come here regularly lately; it was more peaceful then most of Other World. He didn’t have to worry about the noise below; instead, he was free to meditate peacefully. In fact, he hadn’t been to his mansion in nearly two weeks. Ever since incorporating Diamao into himself, he found that he had shrunk a little bit farther back into his recluse state he once enveloped himself in. He was slowly fighting it off, however, as he went to Gohan’s house every other day, reminding himself of his friends. Even Vegeta was trying to help him, somewhat. Of course, the saiyan prince’s definition of help was to offer daily sparring matches. But then again, the namek had a feeling it was more to help Vegeta redeem himself for losing against him the first time.
Piccolo grunted to himself and closed his eyes, sitting himself back down cross-legged.
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Goten wiped the sleep from his eyes droopily. He had been careful not to wake up Marron, she was on ‘that time of the month,’ but she wouldn’t admit it. Goten almost regretted everyone being given back their youthful bodies when they came to Other World, he had gotten used to not having to deal with that when they were older. But it was eight in the morning, what was the point of thinking about it?
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Piccolo soared through the Other World skies, spying silently at the warriors far below him as they trained indefinitely, hoping for their one chance to receive a private training lesson from the Grand Kai. Over the years, he had become increasingly impressed by the skill exhibited by these fresh recruits. And, by cause and effect, the villains they were forced to deal with on the mortal plane were also incredibly strong. The universe had even found a replacement for Saiyans called the Turrelians. Although, they were mostly reptilian in looks. Piccolo had never seen one, but from descriptions given to him by the inhabitants of Other World, they were painfully strong and apparently followed the same path as the Saiyans in their day. Violent, crazed, honor bound and insanely powerful. Of course, the Z Warriors weren’t allowed to step in at that particular part of the development of the universe. Well, not until the Turrelians actually became a threat to the security of a galaxy anyway.
As his training mantle flapped across his body, the namekian flew higher into the air to escape the noise generated by the populace. He found more peace when he was alone with his thoughts, uninhibited by the bustle of Other World. But as he found more and more peace, he also found conflict. Diamao’s hatred of others was quite easy to defeat after several days of intense meditation. But his morality and sense of worthlessness... That was proving to be a much harder foe to tackle. Even though his strength rivaled that of the almighty Goku, that wasn’t enough. He needed more to thrive on, more for life. He needed to be useful. Hell, in the six months that had passed he still wasn’t back up to his mental par.
But Gohan had a way to change that...
II
“What are you talking about? Gohan, are you okay?” Videl asked her husband, pressing her palm to his forehead. Gohan brushed her hand away angrily, staring into the eyes of his comrades in arms. They were all trying to avoid eye contact, hoping that someone else would be the one to tell Gohan that his ‘brilliant’ idea would never happen. Everyone was gathered in Gohan’s house around a rather large oak table eating their breakfast during a meeting that Gohan called. Well, everyone except Piccolo that is. But when he announced his plan to get the namekian off his brooding spout, everyone was quickly shushed. Nearly thirty seconds of complete and utter silence had passed... and Gohan was getting angrier with each passing moment.
“Come on guys! I’m sure that if we ask them nicely enough, they’ll agree. And I’m positive that the Grand Kai won’t have a problem with it if it helps to get Piccolo back to normal,” the demi-saiyan begged roughly. But still, no one looked at him. Videl rubbed his shoulder, but didn’t say anything else. She knew how Gohan felt about Piccolo, and she also knew that he’d do anything to help his once mentor. That included letting the dogs of hell loose. Of course, everyone else knew that as well. But no one wanted to announce how foolish Gohan was... that is, no one except Vegeta.
“Boy! Are you mad? Do you really expect anyone to agree to such a foolish brand of antics? Do you really believe that releasing the demons in Hell will do anything to further Piccolo’s selfish brood? Letting loose dozens of powerful souls won’t do anything but put Other World in danger again. He will come around in time, and if he does not, then he can stay in his own prison,” Vegeta said, never moving his body. He stated it so completely matter-of-fact that no one could argue with him. Except...
“Come on, Vegeta,” Goku chimed in. “Gohan is just trying to help out Piccolo. I’m sure after fusing with someone that held in that much hate for over two hundred and fifty years, you’d be depressed too. I mean, he’s just trying to help.” Goku believed that. He honestly did. But Gohan’s idea... It was so insane. He wanted to release souls of Hell and have Piccolo single handedly do away with all of them. And, of course, he wanted everything to be rigged. The spirits would know they weren’t supposed to win, but common sense told everyone that you can’t trust someone in Hell to begin with.
“I don’t care, Kakkorot! When Piccolo loses, I’ll be the one that has to clean up after him!”
“Shut up, Vegeta! Piccolo is already stronger then you!” Videl yelled at the saiyan prince, defending Gohan’s idea.
“Woman! Who do you think you’re talking to?”
“Don’t talk like that to my wife!”
“And what are you going to do about it, half breed?”
“I’ll do the same thing Diamao did to you!”
“Then do it!”
Vegeta and Gohan were inches from each other’s faces, gritting their teeth and letting electricity crackle down their bodies. For a moment, it seemed as if they would really fight, but then Krillin stepped in.
“Hey hey now, calm down you two. Why don’t we just ask the Grand Kai? If he thinks it’s a good idea then we can do it. If he doesn’t, then we won’t. He’s got enough experience, right? Come on, no need to fight,” the bald monk mediated, pressing his hands across both saiyan’s chests. Vegeta looked at him with malice for challenging him, but then softened his expression into one of a cocky smirk.
“Alright. Deal.”
“Good,” Bra said with a smile. “Now, who wants some tea?” Everyone fell down, their legs sticking straight into the air.
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“Hey yall. What brings my super squad to my rad home? I was just kickin’ some tunes, yall wanna join?” the Grand Kai beckoned, hopping around from one foot to the other with his boom box in its stationary position atop his shoulder.
“No sir,” Tien said meekly. He was always nervous around the Grand Kai, as being around a God can effect people like that. “We wanted to ask you opinion on something.”
“Coolios. What can I do for ya?”
“Well...” Gohan began, stepping forward from his friends, his hands playing with the loose fabric of his gi. “I want some of the spirits in Hell set free.”
The Grand Kai dropped his boom box and froze in place. One foot cocked into the air and one arm lashed out on the side of his body in a frozen peace sign. Slowly, every so slowly, he lowered his foot and placed his arms at his side.
“What?” he asked, straightening his sunglasses, as if they had somehow fooled him into hearing something never said. “You want to me to release the souls trapped in Hell?”
“Yes, sir. Ever since Piccolo and Diamao integrated, he hasn’t been his old self. I think that if he finds out that he’s invaluable to Other World, then he might come back to normal. At least, in a while,” he said nervously, casting his eyes randomly at the ground. The Grand Kai leaped onto his throne deftly, the ease of the old fighter’s body showing the finesse of an Olympic athlete.
“It’s... interesting. But what happens if they get loose?” he asked, running his fingers though his white beard
“You don’t have to worry about that, sir. Piccolo is nearly as strong as Goku now, there’s no way he can lose. Hopefully it’ll be close though.”
“And if even one spirit gets loose in Other World, you know what that means, right? They could send thousands of spirits to their doom with a whisk of their fingers. Are you sure?”
“Grand Kai, Piccolo is one of the most important part of us. The next time a serious situation comes up, and we can’t trust him to do his part, everyone is put at risk. We need him to get his self-confidence back. Otherwise we’re useless.” The Grand Kai thought to himself a few more moments, thinking very carefully about the situation. On one hand, Piccolo was an invaluable set to the Z Warriors, that was true. But to endanger thousands of lives for one man? It just didn’t make any sense. But if he didn’t do it, millions could die because he wasn’t ready when he was needed. And then they’d just come to Other World anyway, where they’d be safe. It was this part of his job that he hated the most.
“Alright,” he started to announce his decision.
III
“No? What do you mean he said no?”
“I mean he said no. As in we couldn’t do it,” Gohan muttered, shaking his head angrily while his wife tried in vain to sooth him.
“Well if that’s what he said, then you have to trust him. He’s the Grand Kai, he knows what he’s talking about, right?” she asked, rubbing his back softly.
“No! He doesn’t know anything about Piccolo, and that’s the problem. You can’t just sit around and hope he’ll just sort through it. It doesn’t work like that, Videl. Not even God is right all the time.”
“Then what are you going to do?” Gohan straightened his head, staring her directly into the eyes. Up to this point, he had been a mess of emotion, unable to speak a few lines without shaking. But now he was strangely calm. He looked as if he had an idea, as his eyes opened wider then normal and a small smirk passed through his face.
“I’ve got to go, Videl. I’ll see you later,” he said just before standing up and rushing to the door. Videl sat there cockeyed, unable to grasp what had sent Gohan into such a flurry.
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“So, that’s the whole story,” Gohan told Goz and Mez, two of the gatekeepers of Hell. He related to them his plan to help Piccolo... excluding the part where Grand Kai said “No.” The blue and red beasts looked at each other for a second, trying to make up their mind whether or not to believe him.
“Do you really think they’d let us turn some of the souls free?” Goz whispered, leaning in close to Mez’s ear. The other shrugged slightly,
“I don’t know. But Gohan is one of the Z Warriors, he wouldn’t lie to us.” Gohan felt a pang of guilt in his heart when he heard that. True he was one of the Z Warriors, but it was also true he was lying to them. He had to fight off the urge to turn away.
“Alright then,” Goz said, straightening up. “So Gohan, when do you want us to do it? I haven’t seen Piccolo for a few days.”
“He’ll be here in a few hours. Now listen, there are certain spirits I want you to set free, so pay attention,” Gohan related, proceeding to tell them everything they needed to know.
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“Piccolo! Piccolo!” Gohan cried out, beckoning the namekian who soared high in the pink sky. As the green skinned man turned, and saw Gohan, he felt a little better. He could always count on him.
“Hello, Gohan.”
“Piccolo, I came to give you a message,” the demi-saiyan said, stopping his ascent as he came face to face with his one-time mentor. “It’s about Hell. Mez says he needs to talk to you, it’s urgent.”
“Mez? What does he want?” Piccolo asked, preparing himself for some idiotic news brief. Goz and Mez were very well known for being... idiots.
“I don’t know. He just said to tell you that, I guess he figured I could get here faster then he could.”
“Alright then, I’ll go check it out. Are you coming?” he asked, turning his back as he prepared to rocket towards Hell.
“No, I have something else I have to take care of. But I’ll see you later, okay?” Gohan said, smiling faintly as Piccolo shrugged and fired off into the distance. “Yep. He’s gonna be all right.”
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“Aaaaaand... Now!” Goz yelled, thrusting his arm up to signal Mez. On his cue, Mez pressed a rapid series of buttons, instantly transporting a few select souls to the ground, and giving them back their bodies. The two watched as three separate entities appeared before them, all crouched low to the soil. One was relatively tall, and quite red. His flowing hair and skin were both a flaming red color and his armor resembling that which was worn by Frieza’s men long ago. The only difference? This armor’s design didn’t include the standard stomach guard like the others, it only had the wide shoulder pads and heavyset chest protection. And oddly enough, he wore a blue jump suit covering his entire body, save his head.
The next to appear had a dark yellow skin, freckled with light brown spots across the head and neck. Unlike his predecessor, he wasn’t very tall at all. In fact, he didn’t tower more then three foot five off the ground. He made up for it in brute muscle mass though. His neck bulged with veins and his arms were thicker then his entire head. And, also unlike his predecessor, he only sported a pair of boxing shorts for protection. Although his dense muscles were surely enough armor for him.
After him, one more materialized. He was tall, maybe 7'5 with green skin and a long blue robe. He had black cropped hair that was almost completely covered by a white helmet. Underneath his blue covering, his chest was bare, although a large line ran through it, a scar from his last living encounter. And there was, as well, a small scar on the back of his neck.
The three villains opened their eyes in shock at this spectacle. Not only were they released from the depths of Hell and released to the topmost layer of it, but they had their bodies as well. The red one stood and held out his arms in front of him, turning them over as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Yellow followed his example, but didn’t rise and instead stayed on one knee. But the green one... He stood. And when he did his aura flashed to life. Now was his chance. Zanji would have his revenge.
IV
“Woah! What was that?” Piccolo asked himself, his path to Hell stopped abruptly when he felt a massive ki erupt suddenly. He remembered it vaguely, but couldn’t place who he sensed with it before, but he remembered that fighting that ki wasn’t much fun. He grunted and closed his mouth, which was gaping open, and activated his own aura. In the seven months he stayed in solitary, he practiced powering up. It was easy to do if you reached your max regularly, like he did. And now he found that he could do it in only a few seconds, merely by letting it all loose in a quick burst. And that’s what he did now. Piccolo tightened all of his muscles and let his white aura swirl around him, his veins bulging momentarily under the stress until they became accustomed to the new power a couple seconds later. True it wasn’t as dramatic as the Z Warriors usually made it, but this way was much more efficient. He cocked his head again, searching for the ki he lost momentarily while he powered up. After he found it, he pushed two fingers to his forehead and rushed to meet it.
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“What do you mean you don’t know who Gogeta is? You must know who he is! He sent me here!” Zanji said, tightening his grip on Goz’s throat. The gatekeeper let a small cry escape his lips as he felt his veins bulging. “I want to know who he is, and where he is. Now!”
“I... don’t... know!” he sputtered out, fading in and out of consciousness.
“Well do you know what that makes you?” he asked as his eyes narrowed and his face became overshadowed with a grin of malice. “That makes you... expendable!” Zanji threw out the arm holding Goz into the air behind him. He hit the wall of a cavern and fell down, bruising his entire body, but not breaking any major bones. At least, hopefully not breaking any major bones. Goz couldn’t tell since he wasn’t... awake. As the green menace was approaching Mez a figure faded into view a few yards in the distance. Yellow turned to see who it was, then gasped aloud as he saw who it was.
“Piccolo!” Red turned with him, following the others example. His reaction was the same. Zanji mimicked the other two and nodded his head slightly to see who it was. And he nearly broke down in shock when he saw him.
“You’re the one! You’re the one who held me while that energy wave overtook us. You’ll do just as well as Gogeta if I can’t find him, green man.”
“Go... geta?” Piccolo struggled for a second to figure who he was talking about. But he realized that it was the fusion that Goku and Vegeta used to defeat him twenty-six years ago, Zanji must have picked up the name when one of the Z Warriors was talking to the fusion. The namekian looked into the sky of pink and the distant white of cover clouds. Maybe he should call upon the others? No... No, he was the guardian of Hell for a reason. It was his business to deal with this. Zanji had escaped, and by the looks of it so had two others. The red, Tomatto, and yellow, Selary, were a tag team Vegeta brought in a few years earlier. Tomatto was incredibly fast, while Selary was impossibly strong. Separately they weren’t much of a challenge, but together they were more dangerous then...
“Die!” Piccolo looked up just in time to see a bright green ball rushing toward his position. The namekian jumped into the air to avoid it, easily sending the ki attack sailing away into the distance, where he heard it impact the wall of the mountainside that was stationed back there. The sky darkened for a moment while the blast sucked in light, but everything was quickly brightened again as it dissipated. Piccolo, from his high position in the air, saw Zanji disappear. On instinct, he immediately turned around to intercept the blow he knew was coming. He wasn’t fast enough and Zanji’s fist slammed into the side of the namekian’s face, forcing him back... seven inches. Zanji’s jaw dropped for a few seconds, but then he clenched his teeth and threw another punch into Piccolo’s face. This time, however, Piccolo was prepared. When the fist connected it sent rivets through his body, but he remained stationary. The wind from the impact blew behind the two fighters and created a three foot crater in the ground below, only a few feet away from where Mez sat, dazed from his last encounter.
Piccolo smiled. This was going to be fun.
V
Piccolo raised his fist to meet Zanji’s. The two connected and a small sonic boom erupted, shattering small rocks that lay on the ground. Piccolo and Zanji brought their other two fists together, pushing the two apart the second they touched. They weren’t pushed apart more then a dozen feet, as they soon rushed at each other again. Zanji saw Piccolo’s fist approaching his face and ducked, his eyes drawn to the namekians unprotected mid-section. They both quickly realized the mistake, and as Zanji was bringing his fist up to attack, Piccolo brought up his knee and his opponent in the jaw, sending the monstrosity sailing into the air. He clutched his fist and threw it forward, releasing a small green ball he created towards Zanji. Zanji gained his grounds just in time to see it coming. He turned himself sideways, allowing the blast to sail past him. He smirked at this victory, but as he turned to face Piccolo, he saw a purple knee covered in a green gi slam into his face, sending him flying backwards. His arms and legs flailed in a vain attempt to help him regain his bearings, but that was quickly put to an end as Piccolo appeared in Zanji’s path. The namekian grabbed a hold of the robe encasing him, swinging him around and flinging Zanji to the ground.
Yes... This was fun.
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“Gohan! Come on! There’s a disturbance in Hell. The Grand Kai wants us to go check it out,” Krillin relayed to the demi-saiyan quickly as he sped by. Gohan’s eyes snapped open immediately, instantly relieving himself of his meditative state.
“What do you mean? Who’s going down there?” he asked, snagging Krillin’s arm and tugging him back towards him. The human let a face of confusion pass over him at Gohan’s odd behavior, then it dawned on him.
“Did you disobey the Grand Kai?”
“Look, Piccolo needs something. He needs to be shown that he’s an important part of the team, that we still want him around even though he tried to kill us all seven months ago. He’s my friend. And I’ll do whatever I can to help my friends, Krillin. You would too. If my father was in his place, what would you do?” Gohan questioned, tightening his grip. Krillin looked as if he would protest, but thought better of it.
“Alright, Gohan. I won’t say anything to anyone. I’ll tell the others to back off and not go. But if you’re wrong and this doesn’t help Piccolo, or he gets hurt, you know what’ll happen, right?” Gohan nodded solemnly. Krillin was satisfied. “Don’t you let his ki out of your mind for a minute, you hear me?”
“Yeah, Krillin. Don’t worry, Piccolo will be fine. Trust me,” Gohan said. Krillin put two fingers to his forehead and disappeared. “Come on, Piccolo. You’ve got to win...”
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Piccolo slapped away an oncoming ki away, exploding it far into the sky, for away from where it could do any damage. It singed his hand slightly, but as his skin was green anyway, nobody could tell except for him. He stood, raising himself out of the stance he adopted automatically when he saw Zanji charging up his attack. The smoke was still clearing from the path of the ki wave, but Piccolo could sense Zanji was worn out from releasing that much energy. In fact, Piccolo was surprised that the terror they faced on earth twenty-six years ago was this easy to best. His thoughts were short lived, however, as he felt his opponents ki shoot up as he rushed through the still clearing dust. Piccolo leaned to the right, letting Zanji’s fist slip just to the left of his head. Zanji brought himself around sideways, letting his knee land in Piccolo’s neck. The namekian’s eyes opened a bit wider than usual, but he quickly dropped to the ground in a push up position. Then he rolled over sideways and thrust out his hands, firing a barrage of ki blasts into Zanji’s stomach. His foe was pushed into the air by the attacks, unable to guard himself. Piccolo readily got to his feet and pressed two fingers to his forehead.
“Special Beam Cannon!” he pushed his fingers forward, letting loose the purple screwdriver. It rocketed at the still dazed Zanji, who was now falling back to the ground. He lifted his gaze just in time to see Piccolo’s ki shatter his chest. It plunged through his skin and bones with the utmost ease, exiting his back roughly. As Zanji fell, the Special Beam Cannon continued to burn through his body, turning the flesh around the wound a sickening shade of black. Piccolo cut the blast and leaped back just before Zanji fell on his last position. The namekian looked down at the charred body of his attacker. His ki was slipping away quickly, Piccolo sensed. He wasn’t a challenge anymore. But it was better to end his life now.
“Die!” he screamed, charging a ball of energy in his left hand. He was halfway through the swing before he stopped himself. “Wha... What happened?” he questioned. He let his ki dissipate quickly, the green glow of energy leaving his hand. It was almost impossible to believe, but he nearly erased a helpless enemy. Nothing could justify the taking of a helpless man’s life, no matter what the circumstances. But he was prepared to do it without any remorse...
“Damn you, Diamao. Why did you have to fuse with me?”
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Selary and Tomatto watched on from a few hundred feet away, assessing their opponent.
“What do you think, Selary? He’s fast and strong... I don’t know if we can beat him. He looks even stronger then that black haired one who killed us in the first place,” Tomatto said quietly, discussing their odds with his closest friend. The yellowed speeder simply shook his head.
“We’re stronger now too, Tomatto. Don’t worry. Now then, shall we?”
“Yes.”
DBAH:
Intermission
Eric Kinneary
I
“Super Kaio-ken!” a voice rocketed. A blue ball of energy twined its way down, taking hold of his body and shaking it roughly. The man’s body was tossed like a rag doll to the ground, pure energy barreling onto his weakened form, slicing him in half under the intense heat. He tried to fight back, but the extreme pressure was too much for him to take. The energy slowly dissipated, leaving him alone, bleeding across the spongy ground he was surrounded by. And as time passed, he could see another figure hiding high in the sky, only his outline vaguely visible. And laughter... Laughter filtered down through the air to reach his ears. It wasn’t a cold laugh. Or a warm laugh. It was simply... a laugh. But it still pierced his skin, filling him with remorseful dread, and unimaginable fear. It threatened insanity with its monstrosity, never ceasing, not for a moment. It was pure torture...
And he’d brought this about. His loathing of others. His hate for the admirable. It was all his doing. He could have prevented it. It was never his place to judge others; it was never his place to punish. But he did. And in turn, he too was punished. He would pay the price for the rest of eternity, the laughter always haunting him, never resting. But such was the way of Hell. And this was his hell. For attempting destruction where only peace existed, his punishment was supreme. It would never end. As long as he existed he deserved eternal confinement, eternal damnation, trapped within himself. And then... ever so slightly... he began to hear his tormentor whisper his name...
“Diamao... Diamao...”
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Piccolo awoke with a start, gasping for air. He heard it again. Sometimes Diamao’s thoughts would leak quietly into his mind while he slept, causing him to wake up panting. It was one of those nights again. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was, but after glancing down quickly he was reminded that he was still perched atop Mt. Kaio-kaikai, the highest mountain in Other World. He had come here regularly lately; it was more peaceful then most of Other World. He didn’t have to worry about the noise below; instead, he was free to meditate peacefully. In fact, he hadn’t been to his mansion in nearly two weeks. Ever since incorporating Diamao into himself, he found that he had shrunk a little bit farther back into his recluse state he once enveloped himself in. He was slowly fighting it off, however, as he went to Gohan’s house every other day, reminding himself of his friends. Even Vegeta was trying to help him, somewhat. Of course, the saiyan prince’s definition of help was to offer daily sparring matches. But then again, the namek had a feeling it was more to help Vegeta redeem himself for losing against him the first time.
Piccolo grunted to himself and closed his eyes, sitting himself back down cross-legged.
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Goten wiped the sleep from his eyes droopily. He had been careful not to wake up Marron, she was on ‘that time of the month,’ but she wouldn’t admit it. Goten almost regretted everyone being given back their youthful bodies when they came to Other World, he had gotten used to not having to deal with that when they were older. But it was eight in the morning, what was the point of thinking about it?
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Piccolo soared through the Other World skies, spying silently at the warriors far below him as they trained indefinitely, hoping for their one chance to receive a private training lesson from the Grand Kai. Over the years, he had become increasingly impressed by the skill exhibited by these fresh recruits. And, by cause and effect, the villains they were forced to deal with on the mortal plane were also incredibly strong. The universe had even found a replacement for Saiyans called the Turrelians. Although, they were mostly reptilian in looks. Piccolo had never seen one, but from descriptions given to him by the inhabitants of Other World, they were painfully strong and apparently followed the same path as the Saiyans in their day. Violent, crazed, honor bound and insanely powerful. Of course, the Z Warriors weren’t allowed to step in at that particular part of the development of the universe. Well, not until the Turrelians actually became a threat to the security of a galaxy anyway.
As his training mantle flapped across his body, the namekian flew higher into the air to escape the noise generated by the populace. He found more peace when he was alone with his thoughts, uninhibited by the bustle of Other World. But as he found more and more peace, he also found conflict. Diamao’s hatred of others was quite easy to defeat after several days of intense meditation. But his morality and sense of worthlessness... That was proving to be a much harder foe to tackle. Even though his strength rivaled that of the almighty Goku, that wasn’t enough. He needed more to thrive on, more for life. He needed to be useful. Hell, in the six months that had passed he still wasn’t back up to his mental par.
But Gohan had a way to change that...
II
“What are you talking about? Gohan, are you okay?” Videl asked her husband, pressing her palm to his forehead. Gohan brushed her hand away angrily, staring into the eyes of his comrades in arms. They were all trying to avoid eye contact, hoping that someone else would be the one to tell Gohan that his ‘brilliant’ idea would never happen. Everyone was gathered in Gohan’s house around a rather large oak table eating their breakfast during a meeting that Gohan called. Well, everyone except Piccolo that is. But when he announced his plan to get the namekian off his brooding spout, everyone was quickly shushed. Nearly thirty seconds of complete and utter silence had passed... and Gohan was getting angrier with each passing moment.
“Come on guys! I’m sure that if we ask them nicely enough, they’ll agree. And I’m positive that the Grand Kai won’t have a problem with it if it helps to get Piccolo back to normal,” the demi-saiyan begged roughly. But still, no one looked at him. Videl rubbed his shoulder, but didn’t say anything else. She knew how Gohan felt about Piccolo, and she also knew that he’d do anything to help his once mentor. That included letting the dogs of hell loose. Of course, everyone else knew that as well. But no one wanted to announce how foolish Gohan was... that is, no one except Vegeta.
“Boy! Are you mad? Do you really expect anyone to agree to such a foolish brand of antics? Do you really believe that releasing the demons in Hell will do anything to further Piccolo’s selfish brood? Letting loose dozens of powerful souls won’t do anything but put Other World in danger again. He will come around in time, and if he does not, then he can stay in his own prison,” Vegeta said, never moving his body. He stated it so completely matter-of-fact that no one could argue with him. Except...
“Come on, Vegeta,” Goku chimed in. “Gohan is just trying to help out Piccolo. I’m sure after fusing with someone that held in that much hate for over two hundred and fifty years, you’d be depressed too. I mean, he’s just trying to help.” Goku believed that. He honestly did. But Gohan’s idea... It was so insane. He wanted to release souls of Hell and have Piccolo single handedly do away with all of them. And, of course, he wanted everything to be rigged. The spirits would know they weren’t supposed to win, but common sense told everyone that you can’t trust someone in Hell to begin with.
“I don’t care, Kakkorot! When Piccolo loses, I’ll be the one that has to clean up after him!”
“Shut up, Vegeta! Piccolo is already stronger then you!” Videl yelled at the saiyan prince, defending Gohan’s idea.
“Woman! Who do you think you’re talking to?”
“Don’t talk like that to my wife!”
“And what are you going to do about it, half breed?”
“I’ll do the same thing Diamao did to you!”
“Then do it!”
Vegeta and Gohan were inches from each other’s faces, gritting their teeth and letting electricity crackle down their bodies. For a moment, it seemed as if they would really fight, but then Krillin stepped in.
“Hey hey now, calm down you two. Why don’t we just ask the Grand Kai? If he thinks it’s a good idea then we can do it. If he doesn’t, then we won’t. He’s got enough experience, right? Come on, no need to fight,” the bald monk mediated, pressing his hands across both saiyan’s chests. Vegeta looked at him with malice for challenging him, but then softened his expression into one of a cocky smirk.
“Alright. Deal.”
“Good,” Bra said with a smile. “Now, who wants some tea?” Everyone fell down, their legs sticking straight into the air.
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“Hey yall. What brings my super squad to my rad home? I was just kickin’ some tunes, yall wanna join?” the Grand Kai beckoned, hopping around from one foot to the other with his boom box in its stationary position atop his shoulder.
“No sir,” Tien said meekly. He was always nervous around the Grand Kai, as being around a God can effect people like that. “We wanted to ask you opinion on something.”
“Coolios. What can I do for ya?”
“Well...” Gohan began, stepping forward from his friends, his hands playing with the loose fabric of his gi. “I want some of the spirits in Hell set free.”
The Grand Kai dropped his boom box and froze in place. One foot cocked into the air and one arm lashed out on the side of his body in a frozen peace sign. Slowly, every so slowly, he lowered his foot and placed his arms at his side.
“What?” he asked, straightening his sunglasses, as if they had somehow fooled him into hearing something never said. “You want to me to release the souls trapped in Hell?”
“Yes, sir. Ever since Piccolo and Diamao integrated, he hasn’t been his old self. I think that if he finds out that he’s invaluable to Other World, then he might come back to normal. At least, in a while,” he said nervously, casting his eyes randomly at the ground. The Grand Kai leaped onto his throne deftly, the ease of the old fighter’s body showing the finesse of an Olympic athlete.
“It’s... interesting. But what happens if they get loose?” he asked, running his fingers though his white beard
“You don’t have to worry about that, sir. Piccolo is nearly as strong as Goku now, there’s no way he can lose. Hopefully it’ll be close though.”
“And if even one spirit gets loose in Other World, you know what that means, right? They could send thousands of spirits to their doom with a whisk of their fingers. Are you sure?”
“Grand Kai, Piccolo is one of the most important part of us. The next time a serious situation comes up, and we can’t trust him to do his part, everyone is put at risk. We need him to get his self-confidence back. Otherwise we’re useless.” The Grand Kai thought to himself a few more moments, thinking very carefully about the situation. On one hand, Piccolo was an invaluable set to the Z Warriors, that was true. But to endanger thousands of lives for one man? It just didn’t make any sense. But if he didn’t do it, millions could die because he wasn’t ready when he was needed. And then they’d just come to Other World anyway, where they’d be safe. It was this part of his job that he hated the most.
“Alright,” he started to announce his decision.
III
“No? What do you mean he said no?”
“I mean he said no. As in we couldn’t do it,” Gohan muttered, shaking his head angrily while his wife tried in vain to sooth him.
“Well if that’s what he said, then you have to trust him. He’s the Grand Kai, he knows what he’s talking about, right?” she asked, rubbing his back softly.
“No! He doesn’t know anything about Piccolo, and that’s the problem. You can’t just sit around and hope he’ll just sort through it. It doesn’t work like that, Videl. Not even God is right all the time.”
“Then what are you going to do?” Gohan straightened his head, staring her directly into the eyes. Up to this point, he had been a mess of emotion, unable to speak a few lines without shaking. But now he was strangely calm. He looked as if he had an idea, as his eyes opened wider then normal and a small smirk passed through his face.
“I’ve got to go, Videl. I’ll see you later,” he said just before standing up and rushing to the door. Videl sat there cockeyed, unable to grasp what had sent Gohan into such a flurry.
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“So, that’s the whole story,” Gohan told Goz and Mez, two of the gatekeepers of Hell. He related to them his plan to help Piccolo... excluding the part where Grand Kai said “No.” The blue and red beasts looked at each other for a second, trying to make up their mind whether or not to believe him.
“Do you really think they’d let us turn some of the souls free?” Goz whispered, leaning in close to Mez’s ear. The other shrugged slightly,
“I don’t know. But Gohan is one of the Z Warriors, he wouldn’t lie to us.” Gohan felt a pang of guilt in his heart when he heard that. True he was one of the Z Warriors, but it was also true he was lying to them. He had to fight off the urge to turn away.
“Alright then,” Goz said, straightening up. “So Gohan, when do you want us to do it? I haven’t seen Piccolo for a few days.”
“He’ll be here in a few hours. Now listen, there are certain spirits I want you to set free, so pay attention,” Gohan related, proceeding to tell them everything they needed to know.
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“Piccolo! Piccolo!” Gohan cried out, beckoning the namekian who soared high in the pink sky. As the green skinned man turned, and saw Gohan, he felt a little better. He could always count on him.
“Hello, Gohan.”
“Piccolo, I came to give you a message,” the demi-saiyan said, stopping his ascent as he came face to face with his one-time mentor. “It’s about Hell. Mez says he needs to talk to you, it’s urgent.”
“Mez? What does he want?” Piccolo asked, preparing himself for some idiotic news brief. Goz and Mez were very well known for being... idiots.
“I don’t know. He just said to tell you that, I guess he figured I could get here faster then he could.”
“Alright then, I’ll go check it out. Are you coming?” he asked, turning his back as he prepared to rocket towards Hell.
“No, I have something else I have to take care of. But I’ll see you later, okay?” Gohan said, smiling faintly as Piccolo shrugged and fired off into the distance. “Yep. He’s gonna be all right.”
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“Aaaaaand... Now!” Goz yelled, thrusting his arm up to signal Mez. On his cue, Mez pressed a rapid series of buttons, instantly transporting a few select souls to the ground, and giving them back their bodies. The two watched as three separate entities appeared before them, all crouched low to the soil. One was relatively tall, and quite red. His flowing hair and skin were both a flaming red color and his armor resembling that which was worn by Frieza’s men long ago. The only difference? This armor’s design didn’t include the standard stomach guard like the others, it only had the wide shoulder pads and heavyset chest protection. And oddly enough, he wore a blue jump suit covering his entire body, save his head.
The next to appear had a dark yellow skin, freckled with light brown spots across the head and neck. Unlike his predecessor, he wasn’t very tall at all. In fact, he didn’t tower more then three foot five off the ground. He made up for it in brute muscle mass though. His neck bulged with veins and his arms were thicker then his entire head. And, also unlike his predecessor, he only sported a pair of boxing shorts for protection. Although his dense muscles were surely enough armor for him.
After him, one more materialized. He was tall, maybe 7'5 with green skin and a long blue robe. He had black cropped hair that was almost completely covered by a white helmet. Underneath his blue covering, his chest was bare, although a large line ran through it, a scar from his last living encounter. And there was, as well, a small scar on the back of his neck.
The three villains opened their eyes in shock at this spectacle. Not only were they released from the depths of Hell and released to the topmost layer of it, but they had their bodies as well. The red one stood and held out his arms in front of him, turning them over as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Yellow followed his example, but didn’t rise and instead stayed on one knee. But the green one... He stood. And when he did his aura flashed to life. Now was his chance. Zanji would have his revenge.
IV
“Woah! What was that?” Piccolo asked himself, his path to Hell stopped abruptly when he felt a massive ki erupt suddenly. He remembered it vaguely, but couldn’t place who he sensed with it before, but he remembered that fighting that ki wasn’t much fun. He grunted and closed his mouth, which was gaping open, and activated his own aura. In the seven months he stayed in solitary, he practiced powering up. It was easy to do if you reached your max regularly, like he did. And now he found that he could do it in only a few seconds, merely by letting it all loose in a quick burst. And that’s what he did now. Piccolo tightened all of his muscles and let his white aura swirl around him, his veins bulging momentarily under the stress until they became accustomed to the new power a couple seconds later. True it wasn’t as dramatic as the Z Warriors usually made it, but this way was much more efficient. He cocked his head again, searching for the ki he lost momentarily while he powered up. After he found it, he pushed two fingers to his forehead and rushed to meet it.
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“What do you mean you don’t know who Gogeta is? You must know who he is! He sent me here!” Zanji said, tightening his grip on Goz’s throat. The gatekeeper let a small cry escape his lips as he felt his veins bulging. “I want to know who he is, and where he is. Now!”
“I... don’t... know!” he sputtered out, fading in and out of consciousness.
“Well do you know what that makes you?” he asked as his eyes narrowed and his face became overshadowed with a grin of malice. “That makes you... expendable!” Zanji threw out the arm holding Goz into the air behind him. He hit the wall of a cavern and fell down, bruising his entire body, but not breaking any major bones. At least, hopefully not breaking any major bones. Goz couldn’t tell since he wasn’t... awake. As the green menace was approaching Mez a figure faded into view a few yards in the distance. Yellow turned to see who it was, then gasped aloud as he saw who it was.
“Piccolo!” Red turned with him, following the others example. His reaction was the same. Zanji mimicked the other two and nodded his head slightly to see who it was. And he nearly broke down in shock when he saw him.
“You’re the one! You’re the one who held me while that energy wave overtook us. You’ll do just as well as Gogeta if I can’t find him, green man.”
“Go... geta?” Piccolo struggled for a second to figure who he was talking about. But he realized that it was the fusion that Goku and Vegeta used to defeat him twenty-six years ago, Zanji must have picked up the name when one of the Z Warriors was talking to the fusion. The namekian looked into the sky of pink and the distant white of cover clouds. Maybe he should call upon the others? No... No, he was the guardian of Hell for a reason. It was his business to deal with this. Zanji had escaped, and by the looks of it so had two others. The red, Tomatto, and yellow, Selary, were a tag team Vegeta brought in a few years earlier. Tomatto was incredibly fast, while Selary was impossibly strong. Separately they weren’t much of a challenge, but together they were more dangerous then...
“Die!” Piccolo looked up just in time to see a bright green ball rushing toward his position. The namekian jumped into the air to avoid it, easily sending the ki attack sailing away into the distance, where he heard it impact the wall of the mountainside that was stationed back there. The sky darkened for a moment while the blast sucked in light, but everything was quickly brightened again as it dissipated. Piccolo, from his high position in the air, saw Zanji disappear. On instinct, he immediately turned around to intercept the blow he knew was coming. He wasn’t fast enough and Zanji’s fist slammed into the side of the namekian’s face, forcing him back... seven inches. Zanji’s jaw dropped for a few seconds, but then he clenched his teeth and threw another punch into Piccolo’s face. This time, however, Piccolo was prepared. When the fist connected it sent rivets through his body, but he remained stationary. The wind from the impact blew behind the two fighters and created a three foot crater in the ground below, only a few feet away from where Mez sat, dazed from his last encounter.
Piccolo smiled. This was going to be fun.
V
Piccolo raised his fist to meet Zanji’s. The two connected and a small sonic boom erupted, shattering small rocks that lay on the ground. Piccolo and Zanji brought their other two fists together, pushing the two apart the second they touched. They weren’t pushed apart more then a dozen feet, as they soon rushed at each other again. Zanji saw Piccolo’s fist approaching his face and ducked, his eyes drawn to the namekians unprotected mid-section. They both quickly realized the mistake, and as Zanji was bringing his fist up to attack, Piccolo brought up his knee and his opponent in the jaw, sending the monstrosity sailing into the air. He clutched his fist and threw it forward, releasing a small green ball he created towards Zanji. Zanji gained his grounds just in time to see it coming. He turned himself sideways, allowing the blast to sail past him. He smirked at this victory, but as he turned to face Piccolo, he saw a purple knee covered in a green gi slam into his face, sending him flying backwards. His arms and legs flailed in a vain attempt to help him regain his bearings, but that was quickly put to an end as Piccolo appeared in Zanji’s path. The namekian grabbed a hold of the robe encasing him, swinging him around and flinging Zanji to the ground.
Yes... This was fun.
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“Gohan! Come on! There’s a disturbance in Hell. The Grand Kai wants us to go check it out,” Krillin relayed to the demi-saiyan quickly as he sped by. Gohan’s eyes snapped open immediately, instantly relieving himself of his meditative state.
“What do you mean? Who’s going down there?” he asked, snagging Krillin’s arm and tugging him back towards him. The human let a face of confusion pass over him at Gohan’s odd behavior, then it dawned on him.
“Did you disobey the Grand Kai?”
“Look, Piccolo needs something. He needs to be shown that he’s an important part of the team, that we still want him around even though he tried to kill us all seven months ago. He’s my friend. And I’ll do whatever I can to help my friends, Krillin. You would too. If my father was in his place, what would you do?” Gohan questioned, tightening his grip. Krillin looked as if he would protest, but thought better of it.
“Alright, Gohan. I won’t say anything to anyone. I’ll tell the others to back off and not go. But if you’re wrong and this doesn’t help Piccolo, or he gets hurt, you know what’ll happen, right?” Gohan nodded solemnly. Krillin was satisfied. “Don’t you let his ki out of your mind for a minute, you hear me?”
“Yeah, Krillin. Don’t worry, Piccolo will be fine. Trust me,” Gohan said. Krillin put two fingers to his forehead and disappeared. “Come on, Piccolo. You’ve got to win...”
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Piccolo slapped away an oncoming ki away, exploding it far into the sky, for away from where it could do any damage. It singed his hand slightly, but as his skin was green anyway, nobody could tell except for him. He stood, raising himself out of the stance he adopted automatically when he saw Zanji charging up his attack. The smoke was still clearing from the path of the ki wave, but Piccolo could sense Zanji was worn out from releasing that much energy. In fact, Piccolo was surprised that the terror they faced on earth twenty-six years ago was this easy to best. His thoughts were short lived, however, as he felt his opponents ki shoot up as he rushed through the still clearing dust. Piccolo leaned to the right, letting Zanji’s fist slip just to the left of his head. Zanji brought himself around sideways, letting his knee land in Piccolo’s neck. The namekian’s eyes opened a bit wider than usual, but he quickly dropped to the ground in a push up position. Then he rolled over sideways and thrust out his hands, firing a barrage of ki blasts into Zanji’s stomach. His foe was pushed into the air by the attacks, unable to guard himself. Piccolo readily got to his feet and pressed two fingers to his forehead.
“Special Beam Cannon!” he pushed his fingers forward, letting loose the purple screwdriver. It rocketed at the still dazed Zanji, who was now falling back to the ground. He lifted his gaze just in time to see Piccolo’s ki shatter his chest. It plunged through his skin and bones with the utmost ease, exiting his back roughly. As Zanji fell, the Special Beam Cannon continued to burn through his body, turning the flesh around the wound a sickening shade of black. Piccolo cut the blast and leaped back just before Zanji fell on his last position. The namekian looked down at the charred body of his attacker. His ki was slipping away quickly, Piccolo sensed. He wasn’t a challenge anymore. But it was better to end his life now.
“Die!” he screamed, charging a ball of energy in his left hand. He was halfway through the swing before he stopped himself. “Wha... What happened?” he questioned. He let his ki dissipate quickly, the green glow of energy leaving his hand. It was almost impossible to believe, but he nearly erased a helpless enemy. Nothing could justify the taking of a helpless man’s life, no matter what the circumstances. But he was prepared to do it without any remorse...
“Damn you, Diamao. Why did you have to fuse with me?”
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Selary and Tomatto watched on from a few hundred feet away, assessing their opponent.
“What do you think, Selary? He’s fast and strong... I don’t know if we can beat him. He looks even stronger then that black haired one who killed us in the first place,” Tomatto said quietly, discussing their odds with his closest friend. The yellowed speeder simply shook his head.
“We’re stronger now too, Tomatto. Don’t worry. Now then, shall we?”
“Yes.”