Campaign: Plots of Light and Shadow (Invite Only)

OOC: This is an invite only campaign thread. Only those who have participated thus far in the Organization battles for the dragonballs are invited.

Grick floated over the ashen wastes of East City, his cloak fluttering behind him in the wind. Yes, Oroki had told him to stay put in South City while he fought rabble, but Grick was far more interested in what the demon Balzar had been up to. The show had been quite fantastic, he had watched a good majority of it from the sidelines. The alien who called himself Sairai had put a stop to the demon.

The Xeno sorcerer found it quite amusing. Balzar had always been so full of himself, and also so ready to throw any the Organization's members into the jaws of a Kyrkal Dragon when the opportunity presented itself. His connection with Master had been rather powerful, but his arrogance had lost him the battle to an inferior opponent.

There was one being on the battlefield that had drawn the sorcerer's attention. It was the one known as Broly, a Saiyan warrior that had somehow made his way to Earth. He had survived the battle against Rex and Ralia and had arrived to pick a fight with Balzar. Of course, Sairai had killed the demon before Broly could get his massive hands on him, but Grick was surprised how the Saiyan's power had grown since last seeing him

Could he be the Super Saiyan of legend? Grick wondered, rubbing his bristly green chin.

If so, it would be safe to say that he was the perfect candidate. While Oroki and his brother Ivander were powerful warriors, it was the secret weapon that Grick had been developing that would be the key to a true victory for the Organization. They had been on the precipice of collecting all of the magical dragonballs, but it seemed somehow fate itself was out to stop their wicked plan.

Not that Grick cared about such foolish notions as fate. The sorcerer knew much better than that. All that mattered in the universe was power and Master was vast conduit of it. Although he had never made a connection with the inter-dimensional being, he knew that one day all of Master's power would be ripe for the picking.

But, Grick himself had never been much of a warrior, nor did he care to fight anyone. No, he enjoyed making moves from the shadows. With his secret weapon in development, he would have someone to throw the punches fo rhim.

But, if he could acquire the spiritual essence of a Super Saiyan, that would truly solidify the dominance of his weapon.

A burning sensation went down Grick's spine and he let out a soft coo. Somewhere, a great magic had been summoned. The spiritual leylines and arcane eddies of the Earth shifted, all coiling around that single lotacion. It was dark magic, evil magic—the sort connected with Other World, specifically Hell and the Demon Realm. But who was capable of such magic other than Balzar? Another demon perhaps...

Things were falling into place perfectly. If there was another demon out there, one somewhat reasonable or even impressionable, Grick would be able to truly test his theory.

If successful, he would gain the might of a Super Saiyan.


Kami suffered a throbbing headache and he rubbed both of his temples. It was another sunny day on the Lookout. They were well above the clouds, so it never rained or snowed. The atmosphere was cool, and the rays of the sun comforting. He walked across the smooth stone tiles, passing the long line of gardens that Mr. Popo meticulously tended to.

Mr. Popo trotted behind him at a cheerful pace. The magical construct carried with him an aluminum watering can, stopping ever few yards to water a flower or plant he thought had been neglected.

“Kami, what's wrong?”

“Yamcha ran off to fight one of the dark ones,” Kami said. “The one who calls himself the Death God. The boy has the best of intentions, but I think he might be over his head.”

The robust black genie grumbled in worry. “I sure hope Yamcha returns.”

“Sairai defeated the demon, which brings me relief. Still, I can't help but think that this is just beginning. What do these people want with the dragonballs?”

“A wish?” Mr. Popo said.

“That would be the most logical of answers,” Kami said and came to a stop, leaning on his gnarled cane. “But, I don't know.”

The old Namek has served as the Guardian of Earth for countless ages. He had seen many dark factions rise up to claim the dragonballs, and had even involved his hands in stopping several of them from using them for evil deeds. This time it was different. A gut feeling told the Guardian that there was another nefarious purpose at hand, one that he would need all the help he could get to put a stop to.

The warriors were just too powerful, and too well organized. The magic that Kami had used to create the dragonballs was both ancient and arcane. If one understood anything about magic, they would understand that each dragonball held more mystical power than nearly any other artifact, second only to the original Namek dragonballs.

If harvested...

Kami shuddered at the thought. His headache spiked and nearly fell over, caught by Mr. Popo's gentle hands.

“Oh Kami...”

“I need to rest,” Kami said, finding his balance once again. “Mr. Popo, please go find Sairai and bring him here. There is something important I wish to speak to him about.”

“I will go right away,” Mr. Popo said and trotted off to retrieve his magic carpet.

Broly watched in silence, as the Changeling flew off into the sky. It was not often that a creature was permitted to fly away from him in peace, without some kind of direct action involved on Broly's part. Actually, this seemed to be the first time that he had stored in recent memory. Even the Child; whenever the boy had flown away, Broly had either been in tow, or headed to take care of his own devices. Wherever that child was now, he didn't know, though he was quickly finding himself erased from memory. There wasn't much point to remembering the boy, if he intended to abandon the Saiyan as the others had. It wasn't too shocking, in honesty. It was something he had been expecting for a while now, but the timing could not have been worse. With the Organization looming on the horizon, and all kinds of power up for grabs, where could the child have gone? It was almost disheartening to see someone who he had almost come to trust disappear like that. Fortunately, Broly did not trust anyone. It was not prudent to his interests, nor was it something useful for him. He had used up the last of his trust on Paragus; he remembered how that had gone.

The world was silent, excluding the crackle of distant flames below, and the rumble of gently falling rubble. The city was not yet done burning, and buildings were clearly still collapsing around them. It was a beautiful scene; the sun was going down over the horizon, bathing East City in brilliant orange glow. Broly's energy was slowly falling to resting level as he watched the Changeling's body disappear into the distance, headed toward some place unknown. Taking a deep breath as the adrenaline slowly faded from his body, the Saiyan clenched his right fist intently. Something about this seemed familiar; something about the feeling that was harbored on his broad shoulders felt dangerous. It was as though he wasn't quite out of the fire yet, as though something were waiting to take him away or to try and murder him. It was the feeling he both lived with every day, and had become accustomed to, but... Something felt strange this time. Something felt notably off. As warm air and smoke filled his nostrils, the Saiyan closed both eyes to the sunset. There was no harm in investigating the threat he sensed, and though it was but a little nagging tug on his conscious, it would allow him to go home.

As his eyes closed, a new world opened up in his mind. The city appeared as he felt out his surroundings utilizing his energy, probing for any type of threat. At first, everything seemed fine. He could sense a few low power levels rummaging through the streets below, likely children fighting for their lives in the freshly remodeled East City. He could feel animals, roaming through the wreckage of their former homes in attempts to find their owners, their partners; any form of companionship to help them through the dark time they currently faced. It was an unfortunate truth that any survivors of the Genocide that had taken place here would not be in any fit state to care for their pets, or the children who had been too weak to allow detection. At first, he didn't think there was much to be worried about...but then he caught wind of a much more threatening force, at the edge of what would have been his natural sight line. His body slowly turned as he assessed the power, began to realize it's strength. It was far more powerful than any human; far more powerful than most Saiyans. There happened to be an unanswered question, however.

Was it stronger than Broly?

The Saiyan's body was carried toward this signature now, drifting across the skies as his arms slowly crossed. He likely made for an unusual sight; half of his upper body adorned with royal-looking jewelry, ranging from a crown-like object on his head, to the wrist-guard on his left arm. He had given the right guard away as a form of tribute to someone who had aided him greatly, whereas the left was still his to keep. A golden necklace also hung from his neck, jingling softly while it's owner flew into the face of the moderate winds. Atop that, his knees were poking free of his baggy pant legs, which were dotted by holes and specks of ash that had floated free of the city. His feet were covered by two large, metallic boots. They were to prevent injuries to his feet and ankles, something they did shockingly well. One would expect them to do little more than harm circulation, but Paragus' scientists had worked well on their technology. Unfortunately for him, they had been unable to contain the warrior's ever-growing power. He was now one of the top two warriors on the Planet; second in strength to only one man.

At least, that he knew of.

"What are you doing here, creature? Attempting to scavenge what remains of your ally?", he spoke with a bitter tone easily apparent in his voice. Both soulless black eyes were now open wide, staring intently at the creature with intensity. Whatever this strange looking thing wanted, it would receive no peace from the Warrior of Legend. Broly was not famous for his peaceful attitude, and cookie recipes. He was famous for the way he slaughtered hordes of innocents in the same manner he slew hordes of warriors; with little difficulty and with little effect to his mindset. Were he to engage this creature as well, it would be little different than any other battle he had engaged in. He would see what this thing wanted, and then he would scatter it's ashes to the wind if it proved too bothersome for his own interests. He was, after all, The Legendary Super Saiyan; the Intergalactic Nightmare; Broly.

WC: 1,002

The meditation was going much better than it had been lately. An assuredness that came with his new power and the resolve he had found while fighting Cell helped make Sairai much calmer, and surer of his purpose. The people of Earth needed a protector, and he would be one of the ones to answer that call. He could feel the eyes of the Big Gete Star upon him again, gazing at him from all directions, as if the ship had a life force of its own and was watching its master intently.

“What did I ask you about spying on me?” the Changeling asked as he felt the ship’s many sensors whirring around him.

“Not to do it unless there was something you needed to address, sir. It turns out that there is something you need to address, however. A strange... round creature is approaching the ship.”

“Is he wearing a cloth wrap on his head?”

“Yes, actually. How did you know?”

“I can sense Mr. Popo a mile away. Let him in,” the Changeling said as he got out of his meditative stance and stood up to his full height of just over five and a half feet tall. He had been holding himself at a constant power, retaining the Fourth Form he had worked so hard and been pushed so far to achieve. “Is John still here?”

“Negative. He seems to have left. I do not understand why you are so concerned with a Xeno like him, no matter how powerful he is.”

“There’s just something about him that’s unsettling. Not threatening, just... I don’t know what to make of the man. He seems to be thousands of times more powerful than I had ever thought possible, and he still has more power stowed away in that body of his.”

“You should not concern yourself, sir. You are growing in power at an exponential rate. Compared to that creature, Balzar, you have actually achieved strength proportionate to his own. It might not be exactly the same as his own, but his movement speed and ability to withstand damage were lower than your own.”

“Agreed. There’s a lot I need to work on, still. Perhaps some training with Kami will help me out a bit, though I doubt Mr. Popo would be sent to find me if all he wanted was to catch me up on my training. This isn’t going to be pleasant,” he said, looking out the window before preparing himself to meet the strange genie.

As the door to his humble home above the Earth opened, Sairai said, “Welcome, Mr. Popo. To what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected visit?”

WC: 447

Cira waited, the air in Ian's office growing warmer by the second. It was getting to the point of being unbearable, but he continued to wait. Where the door to the balcony was, a red light cut the space between. The tear grew wider revealing a deep black void with a blood red border that shimmered. It grew rapidly and the intense heat from where the portal led blew in, making the room heat up to the point that the Kanassan could barely hold his composure.

His arms came up and he was ready when a creature stepped through that wasn't Ian, his master. The creature looked around, then locked eyes with him before stepping off to the side. Then a woman stepped through. A woman with blew skin stepped through and stepped of to the other side. Cira relaxed when Ian was the last to step through. The portal closed behind him and the room began to cool down, though too slow for Cira's comfort.

"Cira! Glad to see you got my message."

Cira bowed. "Yessir. There is also someone who's been trying to reach you. I told him you were off planet. If I hadn't gotten your message, I wasn't sure what I was going to tell him. But glad to see you're back."

"And the dragon ball?"

"We were attacked and the dragonball was taken. We went to recover your body but it too was gone, along with your shroud."

Ian let out a sigh. "I was hoping things would remain calm for awhile, but it seems we may have unleashed something we weren't prepared for."

"What are we going to do?"

"The dragon balls may be out of reach for right now. There's too many people trying to go for them. This time though, we do have some help." Ian pointed to the creature that just stood there with no expression. "I met him in hell. A good fighter, and someone we could use. What's the status of the Capsule Corp deal?"

Cira looked the man over, then went back to his duties as Ian's right hand. "Asakaya finished getting the research together and is getting a contract draft set up for your to review."

"Good, good. And the training center?"

"Almost complete. In the meantime, Muscles has built a dojo of sorts out back with a device that increases gravity. He said it should help everyone for the future. Since the set back, he has insisted no one is unprepared. It's kind of become his obsession."

"We're going to move our operations off planet. I've sent a couple others to go to the PTO to negotiate. Hopefully we can get a fairly secluded planet. It's gotten too dangerous to remain here. Too many threats." Ian rotated his shoulder as he winced.

Cira noticing questioned it. "Sir, are you ok?"

Ian nodded, "I found something while exploring my new home in the demon realm. It's taking me a little to recover, but hopefully when it finally settles, I should be a bit more protected in the future."

Cira wasn't sure exactly what he was talking about, but hoped it was worth it. The last thing he wanted was to have Ian get defeated again and lose everything he had worked so hard to accomplish.

Ian sat down at his desk. "Iric, find Muscles. I want you to help him with this training facility. Sawish, help Curtis with compiling an update on my business and investments. I want them by the end of the day."

Both nodded and left the room. Ian massaged his temples. He had found his way back, but now he needed to refocus his mind. The demon realm and hell had brought out the worst in him. He learned a lot, especially when dealing with demons. But even they were a bit too dark for him.

"Cira, has the boy or the brute done anything to any of my property?"

Cira shook his head. They had seemed to disappear off the radar. "No sir. Since the battle, they haven't shown up."

"Find the boy. I want you to keep tabs on him. Keep your distance, but watch him. I want daily updates on what he is doing. The boy is going to pay for what he has done. As far as this visitor, did you get contact information?"

"No. He didn't want to leave any. He said he'll be back if all of his other avenues fail."

The man obviously wanted something from Ian, but he had bigger things to worry about. Capsule Corp would soon be his, his training facility would soon be complete, and now he had to worry about a location on another planet. So much he had to do on top of the enemies he was quickly making. Even his allies were disappearing. He needed to get Al here and needed to contact Sairai when it was time.

WC:839

The last thing the Xeno sorcerer had been expecting was for Broly to turn his head and fly at him. He felt irritated. Mostly at himself, for underestimating the Saiyan warrior. It had been a simple mistake though. Saiyans were typically not keen on sensing and realizing the spiritual energy of others. They often used scouters to fill that role instead of their own minds.

His plan to capture and drain the Legendary Super Saiyan of his power was in jeopardy in this very moment. Fear crept into his stomach, slithering around like worms. Broly had shown he was a titan on the battlefield. Grick himself had plenty of tricks and powerful magic up his sleeve, but he doubted he could survive for long against an opponent who had slain countless warriors without breaking a sweat.

That meant one thing—he had to improvise, and fast. If he could distract or deter Broly for now, then he could possibly make the whole situation far more simplistic. The feeling irritation and dread left him, replaced by a giddy sense of excitement.

Grick had been worried for nothing.

"What are you doing here, creature? Attempting to scavenge what remains of your ally?" Broly said as he arrived.

“You mean Balzar?” Grick said and held up his hands, a sign he meant no harm. “Oh no. He was foolish and weak, and it was proven when Master recalled the power he had lent to him. No ally of mine, that is for sure.”

He straightened his cowl, and rested his hands gently at his side.

“Balzar offered you a position within our ranks, with a promise of power? Did he not? But, you are not a dog to be leashed so easily. This I know, I can see it in your eyes. Feral power lurks within you, Saiyan. I sense that you might even have the Legendary power that the denizens of your race often brag about. Yes, I can see it now, you would make the gods fear their own creation.

I want power myself, the sort of power that is not bound by the will of another. But, it is much different than the martial power that you seek. There are many enemies that bar my path. You happen to be good at destroying enemies, from what I have witnessed. That would leave us with a mutual interest, I think.

I can awaken your true potential, that I can. It is a dark ritual, one that permeates with evil. It is not for the faint of heart. But, I can do it for you if you kill those that bar my path for the arcane power that I seek.

What say you, Saiyan?”


Mr. Popo's magic carpet puttered along through the clouds. The robust black genie could sense the energy signature of Sairai growing nearer. He still remembered his first encounter with the benevolent Xeno. Sairai had not been able to keep up with Mr. Popo's superior speed, at first. However, upon transforming he had easily landed a punch. The punch had been soft and hadn't even harmed the genie. Since that moment Mr. Popo had trusted Sairai. There didn't seem to be a mean bone in his body.

He might be our only hope of salvation in these dark times, Popo thought.

The clouds parted and he witnessed upon a giant vessel floating in the azure sky. It looked like a sort of spacecraft, but was nothing like the one that Kami had used to come to Earth. It was vast in size, dwarfing even the human ships that took to the seas. He wasn't quite sure what to do.

Should I land on the top of it?

As the flying carpet neared the vessel, Popo saw an opening with blinking green lights beside it. He steered his arcane device in the direction, entering the mouth of the hangar and setting down on the smooth floor.

“Welcome aboard the Big Gete Star, Mr. Popo,” a soothing voice called from above. Popo looked up, dismayed to not see a single person there.

“Hello, Sairai?”

“Master Sarai is currently within his training chamber. Please follow the green lights and I will lead you there.”

“O-Okay,” Poo said, trying not to sound freighted.

Things of arcane and magical nature had always been rather easy for the genie to comprehend. However, technology was something he was still growing accustom to. Upon a flight of stairs he saw a green light over a doorway. As he approached the door opened on its own and he found himself in a lime green lit corridor. There were a whole networks of different chambers and hallways, but he followed the green lights. After a a few minutes the green lights stopped at a set of double doors that hissed open.

“Welcome, Mr. Popo. To what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected visit?” Sairai said.

The Xeno looked different, and had Popo not have been able to sense his spiritual energy, he would have thought him the wrong being. No longer was his body covered in a hard carapace and horns. He had a sleek appearance, with smooth gentle features, accented by patches of glossy blue. After blinking a few times, Popo had to admit he liked this look much better than the nearly demonic appearance he had before.

“I come on Kami's behalf,” Popo said. “He wishes to speak to you about the darkness that has fallen upon our Earth. It is very urgent and he is awaiting you this very moment.”

“Pathetic,” Ryouji called out appearing right behind the mage Grick. He had been gone for weeks without notice and now he shows up in the thick of it all. No one could have guessed his sudden appearance. “Don’t you dare propose such a vile means of power to Broly. He may be fated to be the most powerful being in all the universe, but taking shortcuts to achieve that power in an insult. One must train his body to perfection, not use some sort of secret technique to rise in power, it’s an act of a novice and Broly is anything but.”

Something was different about Ryouji. He was much more confident and far more serious than he had ever been before. During his last encounter with the Organization he was ignorant. Their schemes and abilities, it was all unknown to him. It was something he resented, but now, now he not only had his own power at his disposal, but the power of knowledge as well. Knowledge, to Ryouji, was by far the most powerful weapon one could wield.

How did he come across such valuable knowledge?

During Ryouji’s battle with Ralia and Rex, Grick and Oroki had appeared and the existence of the Organization was made apparent to the young boy. With such powerful warriors all in one group, they were certainly a force to be reckoned with. In order to better combat such a powerful force, knowledge of their group was essential. Ryouji made gaining information about the warriors his first priority and so he disappeared without notice.

Over the next few weeks, Ryouji had not only been shadowing several known members of the group known as The Organization, but had also enlisted an agent of the intergalactic mercenary group the Seven Blades in order to ascertain certain critical documents.

The documents that the mercenary had delivered to him spoke of sightings of the members across Earth, some dating as far back as a few hundred years. It would seem as though the top member of the Organization was a creature called Master. Though his race is uncertain, not one person has actually seen the man, not even the member Balzar who, as records indicate, was the very first member of the group as well as the one who had the strongest connection with Master.

When Ryouji attempted to question Balzar, he was jilted to discover that the demon warrior had been slain in battle by the Changeling Sairai, one of Broly’s rivals. Though Ryouji was able to catch the end of the battle, he had been too late to really get any information about the demon.

Oroki’s brother is Ivander who Ryouji was only able to get the name of as little is known about the man, even by the members of the Organization. Though about half of the members of the group are deceased, it would appear as though the strongest of them are still alive and making their move.

As Grick shares similar abilities to Ryouji, naturally the young mage has naturally listed him as an immediate threat. With Grick out of hiding and Oroki currently occupied, the statistician had decided this was the best time to confront the Organization’s mage.

Now Ryouji brought his attention to Broly. He looked him in the eyes and could see just how much more power he was able to grasp since their last meeting. “It seems you have managed to gain an impressive amount of power Broly, but don’t stain that power by accepting this man’s tainted offer.”

(WC: 591)

Broly's jaw tightened when he saw the boy materialize from nowhere; how grand of him to make an appearance. Normally, he'd have scolded the child for such a thing, almost as a human father would have. However, there were more pressing matters that needed his attention, matters such as the alien before them. The Saiyan's head turned slowly from the purple haired boy's face to the alien's, his eyes attempting to see through into his very soul. What could he possibly say in response to Ryouji's statement? He wanted the power, yes; but he had been acting rashly earlier. It was unusual for Broly to consider any of his actions rash, however he knew he should have handled that offer with a little more delicacy. For all he knew, they were trying to control him; what good would his power do him if he were forbidden from using it in a manner closer to his liking? Narrowing his eyes, the Legendary Warrior's voice growled over the sound of burning rubble, placing his displeasure with the alien on clear display. What was he trying to pull? Could he have been after the Legendary Power that Broly harbored in his fists? That was all anyone wanted, these days; but it was his alone.

"I have power? That's something even an infant could see, Sorcerer. My power is a power that threatens the heavens itself, my power is a power that threatens to consume all who encounter it; my power is a power which only I am allowed to control. Who do you think you are, wanting to direct a force of nature? What kind of insect is attempting to take hold of my might, so that he may turn the tables on Death's Boot?"

Broly's words were bitter and filled with malice. Yet, somehow, it was clear that he was intrigued by the man's offer. Perhaps it was the hungry glow in his eyes, the clearly shown need for strength. He was truly like a hungry dog, in some ways. The power he wanted so badly was just outside of his grasp; possibly in that Alien's gloved hands. Could he really provide him with the strength to restore his reputation? For though no one had said it, for though no one had mentioned it; Broly had been out of the game for far too long. He hadn't been slaughtering or destroying, pillaging or butchering; he'd been recovering. In that time, had his name and identity been thrown to the wind? It was possible that the fear had died out.

He could practically tell already. This man was not trembling and fleeing; he was bartering for his life. That was not a very common phenomenon anymore. Most often, people got the message that Broly did not accept bartering, he didn't take deals to accept survivors. What was it about him, that made this man think he did such shit? Did he look as though he'd gone soft? Were his hands any less rough or blood-soaked than they had been two weeks ago? It was enough to trigger that standard, rage filled reaction; the one that sent his blood into boiling fits, the one that sent a tingling feeling up and down his spine. He could only imagine the things he would do to this thing when his true rage set in. The poor man would find his flesh scattered to the fucking winds, and his bones left for vultures to pick at. It was truly his own damn fault, if he was merely insulting the Saiyan with temptations of power; one did not taunt a dog with a steak, or a wolf with it's prey. Broly was truly a hunter, that much was true. He had dedicated his life to hunting down power, to hunting down the weak; he would not quit now.

"What would you have to offer me, scum? What methods of procuring power could you possibly show me that I have not already seen or destroyed?"

Broly's fists clenched as he crossed his arms, examining the creature before him with utter disgust and contempt.

WC: 698
TWC: 1,700

“Pathetic,” the boy said. “Don’t you dare propose such a vile means of power to Broly. He may be fated to be the most powerful being in all the universe, but taking shortcuts to achieve that power in an insult. One must train his body to perfection, not use some sort of secret technique to rise in power, it’s an act of a novice and Broly is anything but. It seems you have managed to gain an impressive amount of power Broly, but don’t stain that power by accepting this man’s tainted offer.” ”

Grick had sensed his presence long before he had chosen to speak. While he had been surprised that Broly knew to sense his presence, he had been aware of the one known as Ryouji hovering at the edge of the battlefield. Ryouji was a sorcerer himself, one who used wit and guile to defeat his opponents rather than raw strength.

It didn't mean the boy was weak, no Grick knew better than to underestimate him. He had seen child prodigies before, and they often times were born with the instinct that took years and decades for veterans to develop. Broly himself was a prodigy, of pure destruction so the two being of the same faction made this twice as dangerous of a situation.

Grick had faced powerful beings before, and escaped with his life. However, these warriors had chosen to discuss the conflict before throwing the first punch. That gave him more than ample of a chance to weave his words.

The two were not foolish heroes, these were sadistic and even manipulative beings. They would never trust Grick, not in a million years. But, that still didn't mean that they didn't experience curiosity. To bait a cruel being like Broly, proof was required.

"I have power? That's something even an infant could see, Sorcerer. My power is a power that threatens the heavens itself, my power is a power that threatens to consume all who encounter it; my power is a power which only I am allowed to control. Who do you think you are, wanting to direct a force of nature? What kind of insect is attempting to take hold of my might, so that he may turn the tables on Death's Boot?"

Grick cleared this throat, first glancing at Ryouji and then back to Broly. “If he doesn't wish you to see my offer, that is fine. If you wish to witness proof of my promise, you may come with me. In fact, I welcome you both. He said it would be taking a shortcut, but that is not true. No, your power has been locked away. It exists, and the more you fight and conquer, the more it trickles back into your grasp. However, I can turn the faucet on so to speak, and it all will come flooding back to you.”

Yamcha flew from the battle field with a sad heart. He tried to play the role of hero but couldn’t defeat the death god. He was really pissed off at himself. How could I lose? The demon king and the psionic died fighting him, my wolf fang fist did nothing, he could read my movements without any problems, this is insane…and they want the dragon balls for their ‘master’ to come into the realm to reshape this realm that we live in? This is just crazyness. There is no way I can match up to his speed.

The mixed martial artist flew over the landscape. Underneath him was a forest with animals and plant life. Suddenly a namekian power that he met previously at master roshi’s island was picked up on his scouter. He shot down towards the forest and landed in a clearing where the namekian was meditating.

“Spin. It’s me Yamcha.” The wolf master spoke to awaken the namek from his meditation. The namek then opened his eyes and replied.

“Yamcha, I know about south city…I know why you lost, you’ve never fought a fighter with high speed before. Also, his mind was stronger then yours. Your lucky he let you go.”

Yamcha frowned. “He killed the demon king and a psionic kanassan and let me go. There is no way I can live this down.” The namek replied. “Well your lucky I’m here, I’m here to help protect the dragon balls of earth from evil. There is no way you can do it on your own. You must train harder then you ever have to become equal to a death god. Your strength and endurance are high, now you just have to work on your speed.”

Yamcha just frowned. “I don’t know if that’ll be enough. This guy moved with grace and skill. He outclassed me, saw through my attacks and didn’t even bust a sweat.”

The namek replied. “That’s because you didn’t suppress when fighting his saiba so you got tired, even with power you need to be smart with it. You can’t just rush in and go ape shit, expecting to win. You must strategize. You know he has speed, so find a way to over come it.”

Yamcha smirked. “Your right! There is a way to beat massive speed. I just have to train myself to fight him, maybe I could go to the pendulum room and train their for awhile. Fighting fast opponents to gain experience over speed whoring opponents.”

The namek smiled and got to his feet. “There we go, I knew you’d find a way to rematch that Death God!” The namek then looked at Yamcha, “Alright, we need to see the Guardian of Earth to request a training regiment that I think will work. Fighting speedy fighters will give you an edge. Experience can beat youth, but sometimes youth can beat the most experienced fighter.”

Yamcha took out his holy flask, put it to his lips and drank from it; the water purified from the holiness of the flask. Within moments Yamcha stopped sweating and was himself once more. “Okay, lets go to the lookout, Spin of the Dragon Clan”

Spin smirked “Very well, Yamcha of the Wolf Fang Fist.” And with that a white aura appeared about Yamcha’s physical, a purple aura appeared about Spin’s Physical and they both shot off into the air towards the lookout from the Forest of Korin.

Within moments, Yamcha and Spin reached the lookout. They touched down on the northern edge of the lookout and looked around. “Odd.” Yamcha spoke as he looked around. “Mr. Popo isn’t here, but I can sense Kami the Guardian of Earth, he’s in the throne room.” Spin then replied. “Then lets see him, I wish to speak to the namekian of the dragon clan who left namek all those years ago.”

And with that, the two walked towards the palace to the throne room to see Kami, the Guardian of Earth. Yamcha felt bad for not winning the battle but he had knowledge for Kami.

As they reached the throne room, they saw Kami sitting on the throne with his eyes closed. Spin then telepathically spoke to Yamcha. (Kami doesn’t look well, the dragon balls must have evil energy going through them that’s attacking him, we better see what he has to say.) Yamcha spoke. “Kami, I lost the battle but I know why they want the dragon balls. The organization wants to bring an entity that’s in another realm into this dimension so he can reshape the earth or so I was told by the Death God I fought. I need to train harder to beat him. Is there any way I can improve my level of combat further then what it’s at now?”

Spin then spoke. “I am a namekian from the planet namek who has come to assist you in protecting the dragon balls. I am from the Dragon Clan, the same clan that you came from Kami. You ever wonder why you made the dragon balls? It’s because of the dragon clan’s techniques that you have. When the planet got ravaged by a storm, you were sent away to earth. I’m proud of what you’ve become. Now we have a problem with this ‘organization’. Yamcha needs to improve quick or else he’ll die if he fights them again. There must be a way he can improve his level of combat. There has to be something that you know from your guardian duties that could help him.”

Yamcha and Spin then stood in the throne room awaiting a response from Kami, the Guardian of Earth who looked like he was resting from having headaches.

954 words

“If he doesn't wish you to see my offer, that is fine. If you wish to witness proof of my promise, you may come with me. In fact, I welcome you both. He said it would be taking a shortcut, but that is not true. No, your power has been locked away. It exists, and the more you fight and conquer, the more it trickles back into your grasp. However, I can turn the faucet on so to speak, and it all will come flooding back to you.”

Ryouji cringed with every word that spewed out of the hooded Xeno’s mouth. It was nothing but lies masking a hidden agenda. How did he know this? Because the man was a sorcerer and sorcerers never speak the truth. This rang true for the boy as well, but to less a degree. He spoke half-truths with partial deceit and factual lies. He had found it easier to deceive someone of there was truth in his words and he was sure that was the way of Grick as well. Though the mage could possible unlock Broly’s power, no magic comes without a price. For Ryouji, manipulating the arcane forces came at a greater price than he had ever anticipated.

During his trip into Mystara, otherwise known as the Realm of Magic, he had just opened the Third Gate. It was there that he met a Dyr, or Magic Beast as they were referred to by Humans, who had the gift of foresight. He had told the young apprentice that his near future was bright and he would be able to gain the power required to travel beyond the Ninth Gate. Though at first it was delightful news to the boy, the Dyr followed with a second premonition. It would be shortly after the Ninth Gate was opened that Ryouji was destined to fall. It would appear as the power the young boy possessed was too great for him to handle. It is the most powerful magic in all of history, but only the immortal Shintari were able to master it completely. The Dyr explained to Ryouji that if it were not for the Shintari blood in his veins, he would have died a long time ago. It was the Human side of him that limited his potential and it was that Human inside of him that will be the cause of his downfall.

Oh how he hated Humans. Not only did they make his life as a little child a living hell, but now they will be the ones responsible for his death. What an ironic twist of fate. He would gain the power he seeks, only to have it ripped away from him by his flawed Human body. What an unforgiving mistress Fate was. She would tempt the boy with power and influence and allow his hands to grasp them, if only for a moment, before taking them away; all for her own enjoyment.

It was lucky that Ryouji knew the outcome of his destiny long before it would take place. He was nowhere near powerful enough to open that last gate and he still had time to see his dreams realized. But with every drop of power he managed to attain, he took one more step closer to his inevitable death.

“Listen here Grick,” Ryouji shouted balling his fists up. He disliked when anyone but himself tried to manipulate his comrade. Broly was his pet, not Grick’s. “I don’t know what kind of trick you are trying to pull, but we will have none of it.”

Ryouji tried to stay clear of any kind of aggravation that may lead to a battle. He had only just returned and was not well prepared.

“If you wish to manipulate someone, find yourself another stooge. I have been with Broly for quite some time and he isn’t one to sit back and hide in the shadows to wait for power to come to him. Unlike us, he is the one true power. “ Ryouji paused as he turned his gaze from Grick to Broly. He exchanged a small glance of admiration before looking down at his now open hands.

“We must make sacrifices to hold onto our power,” Ryouji looked to the Xeno again. “but Broly’s very existence is the meaning of power. His very breath is proof enough that he holds the power that we long for; unrestricted and limitless strength. It is but a dream for us wielders of the arcane. Once the connection to our magic is severed, we are but corpses ready to die. All that man needs is the very breath he takes. As long as he lives, the power that is told of in legends belongs solely to him.”

(WC: 791+591=1382)

Ian watched as Cira left. He had a guest here that he hadn't seen in a few weeks. Doctor Briefs was sitting downstairs. Alone and probably comfortable. He got up from his chair and headed down towards the basement. He wasn't sure when Asakaya would have the contracts, but they would be soon.

He walked down the extravagant stairway with old paintings from his past. He had found much of his old stuff which made him feel more at home. This day and age, he had always felt a bit lonely. These allowed him to think back on simpler times, though he assumed many of the laws now were because of him. How he wished his last wife hadn't killed him. Oh well, past was the past. Now he had a chance to make a ton more money and become more powerful than he had ever dreamed. Things have come a long way in five hundred years.

He reached the door to his "guest's" room. Unlocking it, he entered to find Briefs reading a book. Mechanical Engineering. It was something he had written. "I do apologize for my absence Doctor. I got tied up in a few things. How are you today?"

Briefs didn't even look up from his book. "Same as always since you locked me away. It's a good thing I'm a scientist, otherwise I'd be missing the sun."

Ian let out a laugh. "I do apologize for the lack of sun. But hopefully you should be out of here in the next couple of days. Or sooner if I push it more. But as an engineer, you can appreciate the perfection I'm trying to put into this deal."

"Why do you even want Capsule Corp?"

Ian shrugged. "Guess it's because it's the symbol of power. The symbol of everything that I stand for. Power, money... you know, the things everyone wants, but most deny it."

"I didn't create the company for money or power."

Ian shrugged. "Yet you have it and don't want to let it go. Everyone wants money and power. It's what makes the universe grow. Power drives everything and money allows people to get that power easier. And after you, then it's time for the PTO. But I know they're all about power, so I need some myself. They won't let just anyone in their ranks. But with you gone for so long, police looking for you, and Bulma worried, it's only a matter of time before I have both."

"And what do you plan to do with me? How are you going to make it so we don't simply put you in prison?"

Ian smiled. "That's where the power and money come into play. But that's my little secret, and it will come to fruition in time. Just waiting on one more piece to complete."

Ian left the doctor and locked the door behind him. He needed Asakaya to finish the paper work today. The longer he waited, the worst it'd get with the authorities. Not that he was afraid of them, but to be labeled as the most wanted man on Earth would be a bad thing for his image. Allies like Al and Sairai would leave and he wouldn't be able to get the support he needed and cover his ass when it came time.

WC:577
TWC:1416

The sorcerer's words rose over the crackle of flames and the whistling wind, reaching Broly's ears with little initial effect. The only thing that had an effect on his decision making process was the bitter edge to the boy's words, the way he phrased them in such a complimenting light; Broly had never been a trusting man, but he had placed what trust he had in the boy a few weeks prior to this meeting. That was illustrated by the pieces of armor that was now located somewhere within the boy's quarters, pieces of limiters that had been placed upon the Legendary Warrior in an attempt to stop his strength from rising to the levels it was supposed to. Was the boy worried that Broly was about to take this creature's offer for more power? Something about that bothered him; something about that made him want to take the offer simply in order to spite him. Glancing through narrowed eyes to meet the glint off of the boy's glasses, Broly pondered on this thought. What would he have done to make this child mistrust him? What could he have done? He had been in a rejuvenation tank for the past few weeks; it wasn't as though he could have possibly fucked much up.

A slow blink followed, before Broly's eyes slowly rotated back to the Alien's desperate face. He looked stressed, anxious, perhaps? Expression shifting into a scowl, the Saiyan slowly floated forward, his left arm falling to his hip while his right curled to his shoulder. He would make this decision himself, whether or not he'd investigate the man's offer; he had enough faith in his partner. Surely, Ryouji could best this creature in the realm of magic? Shit, he was already afraid of Broly. The Saiyan could sense the energy that lingered inside of Grick's body, he could feel the magic or energy or whatever the hell it was that was already threatening to break free; there was no doubt that he would use it if he had to. Of course, that wasn't to say that Broly was afraid of this energy; he was rather impartial to it's existence. The thing, if it knew how to use it, would prove a handful for sure; but would it be able to take down both Broly and his young companion? Such a thing was hardly possible. It was with this in mind, that Broly slowly floated forward toward Grick, his hand slowly starting to glow.

"Boy, I doubt that this thing is stupid enough to cross us; so come. We shall investigate whatever the hell he's prattling on about, if he's so intent on it. If he has nothing? We'll kill him immediately. If I grow bored? The word need not be said."

The words were more or less barked out to the boy, while he kept his eyes trained on the sorcerer before him. Energy crackled to life in his raised hand, while he floated toward the Xeno with menacing intent. If this thing betrayed him, nowhere under the heavens would be safe; nowhere above hell would quarter him. That confidence was probably why Broly was approaching with such ease; he feared little, thanks to a variety of factors. Sure, the Organization had removed his arm from him before, but that power had been enticing. Hadn't he been barking and scrapping for it a few moments before; ready to accept the might that was rightfully his? It still pissed him off that he had been denied the chance, the opportunity to take that might. Perhaps this creature would be able to offer an extension of that strength? It may have been dancing with the devil, and sure, Broly had two left feet; but there was no way in hell he'd be outdone by such a trivial group as this Organization. He would find out whatever the hell it was that they had to offer.

"If I get even the slightest whiff of betrayal from you, creature; I will not hesitate to destroy you. The energy in my hands is more than enough to shatter planets, and it is more than enough to shatter you. Now, take me to this power source; the boy comes along, if he wishes. If he catches wind of something dangerous, it'll be your head that we burn tonight."

As his words came to a finish, the bolt suddenly expanded to encompass his entire palm. Leveling it toward Grick's chest as he came within close range, the Warrior motioned with his other hand for the boy to follow. Should he stay behind, it'd be his own damn fault. Broly would prove to him that he accomplished whatever the fuck he wanted to accomplish, regardless of the consequence.

WC: 800
TWC: 2,500

Grick was bathed in the dull emerald glow of Broly's spiritual energy. In the giant Saiyan's palm the orb hovered there, a threatening gesture. More so than it's appearance, Grick could feel the immense power trickling in. If hit by it unguarded, it was more than enough to annihilate the sorcerer.

“You both are right to distrust me,” Grick said and shrugged. “But, this is about power, not about trust.”

He tried not to glance at the blast too much. Beads of sweat were rolling down the side of his face. The sorcerer liked to think it was heat rising up from the crackling inferno below, and not caused by fear.

“Let us make haste to the temple then, where the power you want resides. The Death God should be returning soon. It is best we make it there before does,” Grick said.

Grick had felt the energy signature of the swordsman moving a few moments before. Two minor power signatures had vanished and another large one had also moved away from the location. He wasn't surprised that Oroki had won. The Death God was even more powerful and deadly than Broly was, and Grick feared his cold calculating eyes far more than the twinge of madness laced within the Saiyan's. Broly was like a chained Griggen beast—a restrained mass of power. While Oroki was like the Shadowcats of Iriao—always lurking, calculating, and waiting to pounce when least expected.

Grick raised his hands and began muttering in a low guttural tone. The words that escaped his lips were ancient, a tongue laced with arcane power and only known on a handful of worlds. The sky itself, before their very eyes, ripped open. Chaotic radiation from the astral realm poured out, spilling out ribbons of multicolored light. The inside of the tear looked similar to that of a churning whirlpool in the middle of a stormy sea.

While he knew Ryouji would know what it was, he decided it was best to explain to Broly before inviting him in.

“The temple is buried thousands of feet below the Earth's crust. It is also made of a substance that masks and amplifies spiritual energy. Normally, I would simply transport us using instantaneous movement. However, it is not possible for us to enter the temple in such away. Our physical bodies would be annihilated at a molecular level. This is a portal of sorts. Its indirect nature will allow us entry unnoticed.”

Grick floated forward. As his body touched the radiation he was pulled inside, vanishing from sight.

Half of a heartbeat later, he found himself floating in pure darkness. Flicking his wrist, four orbs of pale blue light illuminated the room, orbiting him. The ceiling and walls of the domed chamber were made out of a strange ruby red stone that shimmered in the light.

When Ryouji and Broly arrived, Grick wasted no time explaining.

“Welcome to the Temple. This is the only place of significance on this pathetic rock. It was built far before humans walked upright and the magic of the Dragonballs graced the world. The creators of this temple were both wise and powerful. They held untold power, the kind that makes me look as if I were just an insect. This entire building is constructed out of a rare material known as Arcadium. My people call it the “Blood of God.” It is similar to the Spirit Crytsals found on Kanassa, but it has the opposite effect. Arcadium amplifies spiritual energy. This temple was built where all the magical ley lines of the Earth crisscross into a single point. We are the first beings to set foot in this place in a hundred thousand years, if not more”

He started walking, the heels of his boots clicking on the smooth floor. There were no decorations, no hieroglyphs, just red—everywhere. On the other side of the chamber was a giant flight of stairs leading into nothing but perpetual darkness.

“Since you both can detect spiritual energy, you'll notice that you cannot sense anything in this place or outside of it,” Grick strained, it was an uncomfortable feeling, like a radio tuning into nothing but fuzz. “That sensation is not because you are being blocked, but you are instead being overwhelmed by raw power. All frequencies are on high, so to speak. It would take an immense amount of concentration and training to differentiate the spiritual wavelengths.”

Pointing his index finger towards the black, the four orbs left orbit and descended into the shadows, casting blue light over the staircase. Grick began descending the steps, each footfall echoing throughout the entire temple.

“It is to this place the Organization wishes to bring the dragonballs. However, they are still uncovering it through digging. At the rate they're going, it might take decades to reach a point of entry. They have no idea I've already visited this place, nor that I've brought you here. When the Death God returns, he will not be able to sense us because of the Arcadium distortion.”

The descent took what seemed an eternity. The further down he went, the heavier the air seemed. All the hairs on Grick's arms rose up, as if the air itself was charged with static electricity.

“The Organization will then use the amplified spiritual energy of the Temple to strip the balls of their magic. The magic will be used to tear a hole through our dimension into the Nether, where Master resides. At that point, he will be able to enter our world and escape his banishment. Ah—here we are—“

The stairs ended before what appeared to be a giant lake of mercury. Grick waded into the strange substance and turned, facing the two following him. He swished his hands through it, and then cupped them. When he raised his palms out of the liquid, it evaporated away, shimmering electric blue with flecks of gold.

“This is no water, as you can see. The pressure of spiritual energy is so immense at this depth that it condenses down into a liquid-like state. Come, it is harmless. In fact, you might find it rather rejuvenating.”

It was a short distance to wade through. Grick led them to a circular platform in the center of the lake. There was a large red Arcadium block in the enter and beside it a tall humanoid figure that appeared to be made of the same substance. As they neared, it was evident that the figure was covered in thousands of magical runes, each one carved intricately into the smooth stone.

“Don't mind Red,” Grick said. “He is a golem made of Arcadium that I created. An unfinished minion, however.”

Grick sat on the Arcadium block and pulled back his hood, revealing his wrinkly blue bald head. He had two eyes missing irises, having nothing more than black pupils. He had no nose, just two slits from which air entered and exited his body. His mouth was far more broad than an average human, and filled with dull flat teeth covered in greasy looking yellow plaque.

“What I wish to do for you Broly is a simple, yet brutal method of achieving great power,” Grick said and folded his hands. “Broly, think of your body as a pit dug for fire. Your potential and birthright is the depth of that pit. The deeper you go, the bigger fire you can have. The power you already have within yourself is the fuel necessary to start the fire. This place is a forest filled with kindle to build it. We are missing but one thing, the match to ignite it.”


Being the Guardian of Earth was a tiresome job. Kami was ancient when it came to sentient living beings. He had seen thousands of moons, some on Namek, most of them on the Earth after he fled there. Long ago he held great power, but with it there had beengreat darkness in his heart that he quickly rid himself of. That darkness had become the Demon King Piccolo, who had terrorized the Earth for so many eons before being defeated by a great hero.

However, separating himself had taken a great toll. Kami's power had waned in the long years and his body had withered like asparagus left out too long in the sun. Every joint in his body ached badly and his head pounded as he rested on his marble throne. The room was dim, the only light coming from flickering torches in wall sconces. The crackling sound the flames was soothing and it wasn't long before the elder Namek found himself dozing off.

The sudden presence of two visitors awoke him from his slumber, nervousness washing over him. Upon seeing that it was Yamcha and another individual, a Namek, like himself, he sighed with relief. Ever since sensing their evil power, he had been worried the dark beings gathering the dragonballs would learn of his presence and come after him. Kami just didn't have the strength or fighting spirit he once had, and feared being defenseless against their brutality.

Yamcha spoke immediately. “Kami, I lost the battle but I know why they want the dragonballs. The Organization wants to bring an entity that’s in another realm into this dimension so he can reshape the earth, or so I was told by the Death God I fought. I need to train harder to beat him. Is there any way I can improve my level of combat further then what it’s at now?”

“I am a Namekian from the Planet Namek, who has come to assist you in protecting the dragonballs. I am from the Dragon Clan, the same clan that you came from Kami. You ever wonder why you made the dragonballs? It’s because of the dragon clan’s techniques that you have. When the planet got ravaged by a storm, you were sent away to earth. I’m proud of what you’ve become. Now we have a problem with this ‘Organization’. Yamcha needs to improve quick or else he’ll die if he fights them again. There must be a way he can improve his level of combat. There has to be something that you know from your guardian duties that could help him.”

Grabbing his oaken staff, Kami stood up. The pain was excruciating, but nothing out of the ordinary. The martial arts training he had endured his whole life had taught him to resist pain, but he couldn't help but grimace. No training in the cosmos could prepare a being for time's ravishing.

Kami was no king, and did not feel comfortable sitting upon a throne looking down upon others. No, he wished to be at their level, so he could look them face to face. No being was worth more than the next, despite their contrary belief that they were. All those in the circle of life were equals.

“I am well aware of my own history, but I appreciate that you are proud of my deeds. It is good to see another Namek who has made the journey through the cold darkness of space. You shall have to tell me the story of how you found Earth, someday, when there are less pressing concerns. Also, knowledge of Namek would be good to hear, I wondered if our people weathered the dark times they had been undergoing when I departed,” Kami said to the stranger Namekian.

“As far as you, Yamcha, I wondered how he would fare against such a dark being. The Death God he calls himself, does he? An interesting name indeed, for a mortal. Yamcha, you have great potential and power within you, but you are brash and overconfident at times. To be successful against such a dark enemy, you must be refined in every aspect, or you will find your power dwindling when you need it the most.”

Yamcha and Spin were happy to see Kami, his words of interest about his people on his home planet just showed how much he’d like to travel home one day. The namekian looked at Kami with sad eyes. “The dragon balls are our national namekian treasure Kami…to have them used for such vile and dark means…we have to try every training technique in the book to get the dragon balls away from them. If they are bringing in a entity from another dimension though as Yamcha said, the wish might not come true; which leads me to believe that a darker use for the dragon balls may be at work.”

Yamcha responded. “I was brash in battle, I admit it…but the demon king who started all the killing died to this man, as well as an old psionic friend of mine. He too died to the Death God. He’s really fast and strong I had problems keeping up with him, I need to go and train the very weaknesses that he used against me in that battle and some how become a true master to defeat this guy.”

Spin spoke up after Yamcha, “Watch it, there are others that are stronger then the death god. I sensed 3 energies at east city just go off the radar as we were landing here. There are other forces at work, we need to send a message to every able bodied fighter to assist. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather sound the horn then have this drag out any longer like this. Yamcha can train as hard as he wants but he can’t defeat the whole organization himself…he needs help Kami.”

Yamcha yawned, his arms rising over his head and his two palms holding the back of his skull. “This isn’t going to be easy Kami, I’m not asking for a short cut…but there has to be a way, I can train extra hard to get to the level where I should be at…but I don’t want to be overwhelmed…I need back up.”

Spin and Yamcha then stood at eye level with Kami as they were in the center of the throne room, expressing their concerns with the present situation.

369 words
1323 words

Ryouji didn't care too much for Broly's sudden inquisitive nature. He should never be allowed to ask questions for the answers would only lead to destruction. This would not be so bad if it were any other man, but Broly was more than a simple man. He was more like a Norse God; with unfathomable strength, incredible killing intent and a body that could deflect even the most deadliest of weapons. Allowing the man to question anything was tempting Death himself.

The hooded sorcerer muttered a few phrases in a language unknown to the boy. Incantations? So this mage performed his spells with words rather than symbols. It was a much more powerful magic than his own, but was flawed in both its speed, due to the length of some of the chants, and verbal usage. If one were to find a way to prevent the mage from speaking, then he would not be able to cast a spell. In his mind the potential cost of performing magic through chanting outweighed the increase in power.

Suddenly a rip in the sky tore open and out spewed a familiar energy. It was that of the Spirit Realm, more commonly referred to as the Astral Realm. It was a realm used by those who practice magic and was the closest dimension to our own and directly between our world and Mystara.

Though he did not approve of it, Ryouji followed Broly and Grick through the rip in space. Suddenly darkness. Not a thing could be seen, nor could his senses. Ryouji figured himself talented when it came to sensing energy, but like the darkness that filled the room, his sense of any energy had totally vanished. He couldn't even sense Broly who was standing right next to him.

Orbs of blue lit up the darkness, revealing that the entire area was made of a bright red stone. The Xeno muttered something about how the stone was named Arcadium and how it masked and amplified energy, but Ryouji wasn't truly interested until the mage spoke of Master and the dragonballs.

“The Organization will then use the amplified spiritual energy of the Temple to strip the balls of their magic. The magic will be used to tear a hole through our dimension into the Nether, where Master resides. At that point, he will be able to enter our world and escape his banishment."

So that was the real reason behind the Organization's want for the dragonballs. Ryouji knew that the group didn't care to use their powers as other's had, but he had no idea that they would try something so bold. Ryouji had done a little bit of studying and had found that the dragonballs contained an ancient magic, one that even predates his own. Magic always came at a price and it was his understanding that the older and stronger the magic was, so to was the cost.

They had reached their destination at the bottom of the staircase when a large lake had appeared. Grick slowly waded into the lake with relative ease. A small mist started to spread through the room, rising from the pit of liquid and spreading slowly into the air.

“This is no water, as you can see. The pressure of spiritual energy is so immense at this depth that it condenses down into a liquid-like state. Come, it is harmless. In fact, you might find it rather rejuvenating.”

Ryouji followed behind Broly, slowly, but surely, he felt the magic starting to flow faster through his body. The warming sensation spread to every one of his appendages.

Grick had led the two warriors to a circular platform at the center of the lake and sat on a lone block of Arcadium. He revealed his face by pulling back his hood. He was a strange looking creature with beady black eyes, small slits for a nose and badly hygienic teeth.

“What I wish to do for you Broly is a simple, yet brutal method of achieving great power. Broly, think of your body as a pit dug for fire. Your potential and birthright is the depth of that pit. The deeper you go, the bigger fire you can have. The power you already have within yourself is the fuel necessary to start the fire. This place is a forest filled with kindle to build it. We are missing but one thing, the match to ignite it.”

Though he cared not to admit it, Ryouji could tell the man told the truth. His head had started to hurt back in the stairwell. His mind was being overpowered by the overwhelming power of energy that filled the room. Just what kind of power did this temple hold? Though he would never allow the Organization to harness such a powerful magic, Ryouji was curious about the temple. It was obviously an extremely old building, built long before the Humans he knew. Perhaps the temple was built by a species that predates Humans. Whatever the reason, the very existence of the building was enough for Ryouji to permit Broly to do what he wishes.

(WC: 852+1382=2234)

Ian walked out onto the balcony of his office. He could see the massive training facility growing off in the distance. Crews were hard at work. He just hoped he didn't build it in vein. Grabbing his cell, he called up his lawyer.

"Asakaya."

"This is Ian. I need the contract today."

"Sir, it's not finished yet."

"Get it finished and get it to me. I've run out of time. I'll go with plan b if need be."

Asakaya held the contract in his hands. Only ten of the hundred page document was completed. He had been working around the clock since Ian had hired him. The rest of his staff were running ragged to get this completed. Asakaya let out a sigh. "Sir, only ten pages are done. We have about ninty pages of the contract left."

"Then get me the contract that transfers the ownership to me. The rest can be done at a later date."

"Yessir. I should have that in two hours."

"Then meet me at Capsule Corp in two hours."

The call ended and Ian looked out towards West City. Capsule Corp was a sore thumb in comparison to the rest. He had two hours to get everything moving. He'd have to worry about the brat another day.

He picked up his cell again. "Cira, return to the mansion. We're go ahead with the plan."

"Yessir."

He hated rushing, but he couldn't let Capsule Corp sit there while he held onto the Doctor. He had to make his play now or risk losing it forever. If this didn't work, his next attempt would have to be a bit more forceful and straight forward. Not the most graceful approach, but if this failed, there'd be nothing left.

He had three layers to his plan. Each one provided an increasing chance he would come out on top, though it was hardly one hundred percent. If the contract failed, the good Doctor was the second bargaining chip. And in case Bulma was some heartless bitch, which he would certainly admire, he had Thomas who could be ready to leave with all the information and destroy everything, setting them back a decade at least. Thomas had access to Capsule Corps systems and had a virus waiting with the information already downloaded. He hoped it wouldn't come to that.

He looked over as Cira's shuttle was landing. The shuttle touched down and engines were left on as he came running towards the mansion. It wasn't long before the fishman arrived in his office.

"Sir, the shuttle is ready."

"Did you find the brat?"

Cira nodded. "It was only for a brief moment, then they were gone. Him and the brute were speaking with someone before vanishing through a portal."

Ian thought a moment. Did they travel to hell? Oh well. At this time, none of them mattered. He couldn't let his own personal feelings get in the way of his ambitions. His own ambitions were dangerous and volatile enough without the help of his own anger.

"Very well. We'll leave them be fore now. After we gain control of Capsule Corps, we'll hunt for them again." The anticipation was killing him, but he held himself in check. He had to unless he wanted to visit his summer home in hell again, which he didn't particularly want to. Hell was just so... boring.

WC:578
TWC:1994

Broly glanced at the yellow-toothed creature with disdain; what babble was he spouting off now? Surely he realized that Broly could terminate him at any moment he chose? Or was he more powerful than he let on, and simply giving the Saiyan a hard time on purpose? He would pay if he thought that was something he could get away with; Broly was not a warrior that was easily dealt with, and for a sorcerer to bring forth his rage at such close range? That would be suicidal, certainly. Narrowing his eyes as the creature grinned, the Saiyan couldn’t help but imagine he would have preferred some kind of elaborate flourish as his point was driven home. This creature must have relished the occasion to speak so, with such ‘magic’ in his voice.

However, Broly also knew that if this was what gave him power, this was what gave him power. The energy in his palm tentatively lowered, as his hand fell to his hip. Head turning briefly to the child before him, the Saiyan motioned for Ryouji to step back. He wasn’t quite sure the boy was...Ready? Ready for his power; he had, until now, never released his might fully around the child. Killing your ally inadvertently was not something he needed, especially when this boy had secrets of his own to offer the Saiyan, secrets that may end up making all the difference in the days, months, possibly years to come.

Turning his head back to face the Sorcerer, Broly spat his words to the creature with distrust easily discernible in his tone. He didn’t think much of this strange place, or the strange waters that lingered around them. He especially didn’t trust the fact that this thing had some kind of guardian, a creature that he claimed was unfinished. How could he even begin to trust such a statement? The creature had given him few reasons to actually trust him so far; yes, he had brought Broly and the boy to this...This sanctum, but it had not been revealed how this method worked. If it failed? Pain would be issued in appropriate amounts.

”If this fails, bug, then expect this power to be turned on you. I don’t know what you’re asking of me, but do give me a moment to reach my true combat strength.”

Clenching both fists as his statement came to a conclusion, an expression of complacency slowly fell over the warrior’s face. It wasn’t often that Broly looked so at peace, so contented; this was truly something different. He was going back to the primal urge of revealing his strength at will, no longer was he limiting himself or allowing himself to be limited by the devices Paragus had issued him; something evident by the sudden pink glow emerging from each jangling trinket. Said trinkets were now shaking, the noise from each one outdone by the sound of liquid dispersing around the warrior, shooting off in jets in a circle around him.

Emerald light (much like the type that had faded from his hand) flashed and spun around his body, condensing into a sphere as he began displaying his full power. His mouth fell open as his muscles tensed, his mind no longer on such trivial things as looking presentable. His raven hair lifted and shook in the wind, curly locks flying everywhere as his might was brought free. The warrior’s voice slowly became audible, rising over the sound of whipping wind and spraying liquid in order to form a ghostly call, reminiscent of the Flying Dutchman’s ship in mid battle.

His call slowly rose into a scream as his muscles were brought to their maximum, the pain from such release flooding his mind without hesitation. Broly did not care for the pain, but he had not experienced it in such a long time; he had not experienced his strength in so long. The battle above the city had only allowed him to stretch his legs, the battle against Rex had been a test; this was a true showing of what he was capable of, and it was not easy for him to reach. Unfortunately for him, there was no flash of gold, no secondary skin emerging around his body. He was not entering the state that would have likely destroyed the entire world had he released it, he was stuck in the quagmire he had found himself in since entering the planet Earth; the impassable barrier of his transformation.

After several seconds of screaming, the warrior calmed, his energy surrounding him in an almost protective sphere. It was now that he stepped up onto the platform, striding toward the alien without caution in his stride. He was now at full power, so there was effectively little stopping him from accomplishing whatever it was this alien needed of him. At least, nothing had ever stopped him here before. In the alien’s terminology; this hole should have been deep enough, and the tinder should have been set...But where was the match?

”What do you require of me, thing? Where is my ‘match’?”

WC: 842
TWC: 3,342

Grick nearly wanted to explode out of pure excitement. The fish had taken the bait and he was now reeling. The capture was going to be the hardest part, as Broly was a gargantuan fish. It took patience and guile to wrangle such a violent creature aboard one's vessel

Ryouji, on the other hand, was still a wild card. Grick knew he might have to deal with the boy himself. The entire descent, he had remained silent, watching, waiting, and calculating. The fact that he wasn't trying to convince Broly to run away, meant one thing, the power of the Temple had tickled his curiosity

To a being such as Broly, the Temple was another thing that he could easily erase from existence. However, Ryouji was proficient in magic. No, Grick thought. Not proficient, he is an utter genius. It took me near five hundred Earth years to reach his level of power. I doubt the kid has passed his second decade of existence.

Grick was not one to be jealous of another being's potential, but if Ryouji garnished the knowledge of the ritual he was about to perform, things could go seriously wrong. It was best he kept most of it a secret, especially the intricate details of the set-up.

”What do you require of me, thing? Where is my ‘match’?”

“This is the part that is a bit more complicated,” Grick said. “But, it is not impossible. The ritual will draw out your spiritual energy—all of it. We will then need to thrust spiritual energy back into your body. That will start the fire that will restore your power to its fullest. However, the temporal and spacial distortion around your body will make it impossible for any of us to get close enough. We are mortals, and by that nature our bodies frail. We will literally turn to ash before we even reach you. The boy has the blood of a Shintari, so he has a slight chance at completing the task before dissolving. If he's willing to make that sacrifice, by all means he can. However, I know of another being, a full-blooded demon, who would be perfect for the ritual.”

The Xeno sorcerer took a seat on the Arcadium block, crossing his legs. “I believe you've met him Ryouji. His name is Ian Lancaster, and just before we came to this temple, he had returned from the Hellish Depths.”

Grick raised one finger and wagged it. “Now before you charge off and try and kidnap him, Broly. You must keep in mind, this one simple thing. Lancaster must be willing to do this. He could easily mess everything up. I don't care how you do it. Whether it be extortion, threat of force, or even deception. But, you must find a way to make him comply by his own will.”

The sorcerer began to rub his hands together, weaving strands of arcane magic. After two flashes of soft violet light, he held out his palm. Two smooth black stones sat there.

“These stones will allow you both to communicate with me through the astral medium. They are far more of a safe means of communication than radios and it matters not your physical location, we can always speak. If anyone else gets their hands on them, they will not be able to use them to contact me.”

Muttering the incantation again, Grick waved his hands and the portal opened up again, tearing a hole in the dimensional fabric. The displacement caused the pool of pure spiritual energy to ripple outward. Waves of it crashed against the lone platform.

“It will take you to West City, the last place I sensed the dark presence of Ian Lancaster.”


“I was brash in battle, I admit it,” Yamcha said. “But, the Demon King who started all the killing died to this man, as well as an old psionic friend of mine. He too died to the Death God. He’s really fast and strong I had problems keeping up with him, I need to go and train the very weaknesses that he used against me in that battle and some how become a true master to defeat this guy.”

“Watch it, there are others that are stronger than the Death God. I sensed three energies at East City just go off the radar as we were landing here. There are other forces at work, we need to send a message to every able bodied fighter to assist. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather sound the horn then have this drag out any longer like this. Yamcha can train as hard as he wants, but he can’t defeat the whole Organization himself, he needs help Kami.”

Yamcha yawned, his arms rising over his head and his two palms holding the back of his skull. “This isn’t going to be easy Kami, I’m not asking for a short cut, but there has to be a way, I can train extra hard to get to the level where I should be at I don’t want to be overwhelmed, I need back up.”

Kami nodded after listening to the worries. Both Yamcha and his Namek friend had looks of pure desperation in their eyes. The old Guardian remembered the first time he had gazed upon young Yamcha. He had been a young man eager to learn and eager to prevent the world from falling into shadow. Yet, here and now he looked deflated and even a bit afraid of what was to come.

“There may be others out there,” Kami said. “I called upon Sairai, another student of mine with great power and potential to do good. Mr. Popo shall return to me with him. But, we do not know if Sairai will be able to arrive on time to do any good. Yes, he defeated the demon of the Organization, I sensed him do so—it was at the cost of an entire human city. No matter what, the battle will be violent and it will be filled with casualties.”

Kami staggered, fighting with all of his strength to stay upright.

“To defeat our enemies, we must first understand why they are our enemies and what they are after. We know they seek and protect the dragonballs. However, what do they intend to do with them? Oroki has great skill and he serves a being whose power flows freely into him. I think he is an Avatar of sorts, a small piece of this dark being resides within him.”

“Share your memories with me, young Roga,” Kami raised his hand out, just barely touching Yamcha's forehead.

Threads of thought wove into Kami's mind and he reviewed the battle Yamcha had with Oroki. Gazing upon the Death God through the eyes of Yamcha was startling. The Death God was an archaic warrior, one who did not belong in this modern world. The flowing robes, the obsidian sword, they all seemed to remind Kami of someone, but he could not put his finger on it.

Kami walked past Yamcha and Spin, moving towards the dim light that indicated the exit. Turning, he motioned them to follow him. He walked with a purpose, despite the aches and pains shooting throughout his legs. Both of his eyes squinted in the bright sunlight as he led them down the white marble spiral path around the Lookout.

“Yamcha, you have visited the Pendulum Room, if I remember correctly. Well, you shall venture into it once again. I believe Oroki's origins lie within the Feudal Era. It was a time of darkness, where strength reigned supreme on Earth. If we can find out what happened to Oroki, how he became the Death God, then we shall know how to defeat him.”

Ryouji was taken aback when the Xeno mentioned that he was of Shintari blood. Just how would someone, who he knew for so little time, know of a secret that had been lost to him until only recently? Was this creature an ancient species from a time long past? Just how did he know of the Shintari when little is even known about their modern day descendants, the Shin?

“I believe you’ve met him Ryouji. His name is Ian Lancaster, and just before we came to this temple, he had returned from the Hellish Depths.”

Ian? So it was true, Ian Lancaster was a demon. Ryouji had heard of them before, but he had not thought he would run into one, much less fight with such a creature and come out victorious. They were supposed to be immortals, with a malicious soul and corrupted views. But such a matter seemed almost questionable now; how could someone who had destroyed an immortal not be able to stand up to the power created within the temple when the defeated demon could? It was all due to his Earthling blood. Ryouji cursed every moment of his life as he was stuck with his frail Human body as it caused him nothing but trouble.

Ryouji and Broly, now had to find Ian Lancaster and somehow convince him to willingly help Broly attain a massive power. Had Grick not thought of any other way to disguise his plans? Certainly the mage didn’t expect Ian and Broly to openly accept his terms and follow his orders blindly, did he? Though Ryouji could see the deception, he was unsure of just what the Xeno was hiding and so he had little choice in the matter. The curiosity of finding out about the temple and the Grick had gotten the best of him. If Broly were to wish it, Ryouji would pose no objection to finding Ian and persuade him to aid the two of them.

The young boy watched the Xeno sorcerer summoned two smooth stones in the palms of his hands. Its magical properties made the stones seem like they held within it the abyss of the Astral Realm. Grick then explained that it was a communication device for him and Broly and that no others may use it. This intrigued the young boy. The hooded man took such measures as to not let any of the other members of the Organization know of his affiliation with Ryouji and Broly. Why was this? Was he acting alone? What was his end game?

The sorcerer muttered his words again as another rip in space tore open just in front of the trio. Ryouji was much closer to the tear than before and could feel the tremendous amount of magical energies radiating from the hole. Whoever or whatever this man was, his power was impressive.

“It will take you to West City, the last place I sensed the dark presence of Ian Lancaster.”

Ryouji shot a glance to Broly, who seemed to engrossed in the portal to pay him much heed. Ryouji took a step toward the portal, but turned his gaze toward Grick just before entering.

“Take this to heart sorcerer,” Ryouji’s almost always pleasant tone became sinister and cold, his inner Shintari now at the helm for the briefest of time. “I will tear down the walls of your elaborate facade and reveal your true agenda.” Then he vanished within the portal.

Ryouji’s vision returned to him and he stumbled backward as a gush of wind rushed past. He soon realized that he was standing on the edge of a roof of one of the taller buildings in West City. Quickly the boy took a few steps back to reach the rooftop and stable ground. He took a seat upon the ground as the sudden change in elevation made him a bit sick. Going from hundreds of miles below the Earth’s surface to a hundred miles above sea level in an instant usually did that to people.

He waited there for several minutes, with no sign of Broly. Surely the Saiyan wouldn’t have left him to do this alone, after all he never did cope well with entrusting others to do deeds that needed to be done. Though Ryouji and he often did things together, in his own way, Broly looked over the boy’s shoulder, always going for the overkill to ensure death upon everything on the battlefield. It was his his way to guarantee success, and though Ryouji didn’t mind it, it did become troublesome when it came to conserving power. Conservation of power wasn’t Broly’s forte.

Though Broly may not have let Ryouji undertake the task alone, it wasn’t below the sorcerer to be that much a prick to teleport the two warriors to two separate locations. It wasn’t anything to fret about as Broly’s habit of overkill often made him easy to find. For now, it was better to find Ian alone, using more discreet methods.

(WC: 833+2234=3067)

Ian grabbed his top hat and his coat and cane, throwing them on and looking into a mirror while he straightened everything out. He paused a moment as he looked at the man that had died five hundred or so years ago. Age wouldn't ever take him over again, but something about the face made him look older. They said strees aged one, but this was something else. He was still young looking, but maybe it was just him. He had felt the weight of everyone on him for so long.

He turned and left the room, leaving the mirror behind, though his reflection remained, grinning at him with a menacing look before fading out.

Ian passed Muscles and paused a moment. "Get Iric and Sawish a phone. I want to have contact with them both. Especially with Iric. You are to wait for my signal, then Iric is to fly Doctor Briefs to Capsule Corp on the south side, top floor. Just in case things... don't go the way we want."

Ian continued on after Muscles nodded and entered the shuttle. Sitting at his desk, he sat back as Cira lifted off to head towards the Capsule Corporation. There was so much going on, he wondered if this would even be worth nabbing Capsule Corp. No, it was worth it. It was a step he needed to boost his funding. With Capsule Corp, he had unlimited funding. He could easily take the next step, which was going to the Planet Trade Organization and taking over them.

Ian took a look at his current numbers. He was hemorrhaging money like crazy. There were too many projects and not enough cash flow. The new training facility was extremely expensive. But this was required. He needed to use it as a tool to get allies, and thus far, it is working. He had three on his side, and a deal with two others. His last alliance had failed. But this new one, he chose not to be in a seat of power there. That way he could easily focus on his own work. So far he had five allies outside of his company that he could more or less call upon at any time.

"Sir, we're approaching capsule corp."

Ian looked out the window as they circled the complex. He smiled. This project would soon be over and they could move on to the next. "Any word from Asakaya?"

"Yessir. He said he should be here in thirty."

Ian nodded. "Set us down. We'll go ahead."

The shuttle descended and touched down on a free platform. Ian was getting slightly nervous, but he would trudge through it all and come out victorious. It was the only way he could do so. He held the paper work in his brief case that Doctor Briefs signed. There would be more to sign, but this was a great first step.

WC:489
TWC:2483

Yamcha and Spin walked down the steps of the stairway as they left the throne room of Kami’s Palace on the lookout of the Guardian of Earth towards the lower levels of the holy place. The human was impressed by kami’s ability to read minds and knew he was under the right master at this current time.

“Federal Era? I haven’t done much history on the times of warriors, this must be homework for me. Anyways, I’m ready for this new training. Even if it seems a bit different, I’m willing to try it, anything to defeat that Death God Oroki.”

Skip nodded as he walked alongside the human warrior and the old elder namekian guardian of earth who was a decendent of the dragon family on Planet Namek. He then replied to the Wolf Druid, “Yes Yamcha. The pendulum room will take you to a time where Oroki existed and in that time warp your going to go into, you will learn about Oroki and the training he went through to become a Death God. You will learn his secrets and be able to beat him. Building yourself up alone won’t work against an enemy that has outclassed you. You must know how he ticks, how he trained, his strengths and weaknesses.”

Yamcha chuckled. “Well, I thought training with Spin hard was enough. Turns out I’m missing something important.” Skip replied, “How right you are Yamcha, how right you are.” The namekian guardian of earth then stopped infront of a door. He then turned to Yamcha and Spin, worried. Skip of the namekian dragon clan saw this and began to speak to Yamcha once more

“Yamcha, you have trained on the lookout for many of months from what I read from your mind, now you will undergo the hardest of training you’ve ever gone through. Through this door is the pendulum room and from this door a time warp will open and you’ll be in Oroki’s past. Hopefully this proves well for your training and once finished, you’ll be able to save the dragon balls from the evil Organization.”

“Kami if I may.” Skip stated politely as he opened the door to the pendulum room. Both the namekian warrior elder and the human martial arts warrior walked inside, skip being the last man in closed the door behind him.

Walking inside the pendulum room, they found it to be pitch black. Soon a light came down into the room from all sides of the room, the magic of the room taking their minds out of their bodies and placing them into the newly created timeward of Oroki’s past life.


The city was filled with bandits, samurai, officers and merchants as well as ronin as well as Royal guards. Yamcha and Spin were in the center of a very big city full of humans. He then spotted a shop where weapons could be purchased as well as another shop selling armor. The human and namekian warrior continued to walk through the town until they came across an inn. Both fighters walked in and sat at a table where they were served. The namek asked for Tea and Yamcha asked for chicken and wine. As the lady went off to get their orders, Yamcha and Spin kept an eye out for any clues that would alert them to the origins of Oroki the Death God.

567 words
1890 words total

Broly stepped through the portal, bothered very little by the possible intent of the Sorcerer. Had it been done his way, the boy would have simply risked his life for him. Unfortunately, it appeared that the child was not willing to take such chances on such a strange chance; that itself was not very shocking. Broly had simply assumed that Ryouji had more testicular fortitude than that, despite his young age. Regardless, he would now have to find and coerce that demon whom they had killed on the beaches. If he remembered properly, the demon had been one of the boy's kills. Though that had bothered Broly at the time, he had acquired a rather plentiful amount of time to think about it since then. He had come to the conclusion that he would rather have the boy kill more targets, hone that little blade of his. He had managed to acquire little strength since Broly had last met him, but that was not very worrying. The other creature in their little triage, however; that green bug. That was a creature Broly disliked intensely. He knew how to jump up in power, how to gain quickly on a warrior of his caliber. Of course, the Saiyan knew he was still capable of killing Cell, but that was not comforting.

It made everything all the more frustrating, when added to the shit he had to deal with. He was not pleased to be overlooking the West City skyline, especially from the top of Capsule Corporation. Was this where Lancaster was headed off to? Or was this just some random dump Grick had orchestrated in order to separate him from the boy, who appeared to be nowhere in sight? Broly could feel the child's energy in the distance, resonating clearly, but he did not want to move from the spot on the chance that the Demon wandered his way into Capsule Corporation in his absence. Then again, he may have already been here. Broly was not exactly well versed on the creature's appearance, having only glimpsed him for a handful of seconds before he had been removed from the world for what was supposed to be, forever. Then again, demons were relatively abstract creatures, when it came to domain. They could likely travel through the underworld at will, or something of that nature. Perhaps he had just been allowed back, in order to combat some type of threat, possibly even become one. The gods worked in mysterious ways, after all.

But, Broly did not especially care for the gods, if they revived a petty creature like this. Then again, he held the key to Broly's power, the chance for him to acquire a might beyond comprehension, possibly equivalent to what his power had been before. Grinning at the mere thought, Broly brought his left hand up into the air, above his head. He would release a flare for the boy to follow, allow him to catch up and reunite. Best case scenario was that it also drew in the demon Lancaster, and things could be hashed out immediately. Of course, this was not something easily accomplished, even in his mind. This was not a problem he could solve conventionally, with his brute force method. This was something he would have to be diplomatic about, something he'd have to keep his rage and ever-present insanity in check for. It was not something he imagined to be as easy as killing an orphanage full of children; in fact, this seemed like it'd be taking on a planet of warriors, minus the fun factor. Regardless, it was to be a bitch of a time. Perhaps if he had the boy and his silver tongue, he could convince this man without actually having to do anything.

Then again, according to what he had been told, Lancaster was a business man. There would be no other reason for him to approach Capsule Corporation immediately after coming back to life. At least, none that he saw.

"Hurry up child, before I take that tongue of yours..."

Broly muttered the words under his breath, as an emerald pillar of light shot off into the sky, splitting through cloud cover and rising further until it disappeared from sight. If Ryouji failed to see a flare like that, or even failed to identify it as Broly, he would have had to be blind. It was a rather simple sign to signify his location, one that he had figured unmistakable.

WC: 753
TWC: 4,095

Both of Oroki's eyes narrowed as he reached the realization that Grick was gone. The whooping sound of sirens and the chattering of helicopters filled his ears, making it hard for him to concentrate. Then again, there was nothing to concentrate on, just emptiness. The rescue crews had just started pouring in to try and save the South City denizens who had been caught up in the fray of superior beings.

The Xeno sorcerer had been his ride back to the excavation site. He had been very clear in his orders for Grick to stay put and wait for him to defeat the Demon King and the others who had shown up to stick their nose in the Organization's business. However, Grick had defied that order and took off. Where he had gone? Oroki had no idea, because his spiritual presence was no where to be found, at least not on the Earth or anywhere beyond.

Just what tricks do you have under your sleeve, you mongrel, the Death God thought and folded his arms.

Balzar was gone too, that was for sure. But, he had felt the demon's presence be extinguished by a powerful attack. Oroki didn't care about losing an ally, not one bit. In fact, he was quite relieved to have Balzar dead and his connection to Master severed. That meant only one thing, Oroki would take his place as leader of the Organization, and Master's power would soon become his.

As if summoned by the thought, he felt the darkened tendril enter his mind. It was a bit painful, as if someone was driving a sharp object into his brain. Then again, a headache was but a small sacrifice for nearly unlimited power.

There are those who conspire against us, Oroki. Eliminate them all, Master said. His “voice” always smooth, always calm, always collected. Master never seemed to express anger, or even anxiety.

No, he was not burdened by such foolhardy emotions. Oroki wouldn't be either. Balzar had not been a suitable vessel for Master's power, because of his reliance on negative emotions. Oroki would be a blank slate, a prefect match. Between thoughts, Master slipped from his mind. The pressure in his skull subsided and he felt a sense of lightness over his body that he didn't realize he had beforehand. It just went to show how immense Master power was, that it caused a displacement within the mind and body of those that he touched, even across realms.

Oroki felt another presence, one so similar to that it always felt unsettling to sense. Glancing to the smoke laden skies, he saw a twinkle of azure light, falling towards him. Moments later, Ivander, his brother, slammed down on the rooftop in front of him.

Ivander was a good foot taller than Oroki, his body thick with muscle and his jawline much more broad, a feature more prominent from their long deceased father. If Oroki was ice, Ivander was fire. He wore no shirt, only a pair of fingerless gloves and baggy black slacks. His face was eternally set in a scowl and as he walked towards Oroki, his stride indicated his cocky attitude and overwhelming sense of self worth.

From a small brown sack, Ivander produced a shimmering orange globe that bore four mystical starts within it. A similar ball rested between Oroki's feet, with seven stars instead.

“So, others are finally coming after the dragonballs?” Ivander said. Unlike Oroki his voice was not smooth, it was like rusted nails.

“They are,” Oroki said.

“This is the first time you've sullied your blade in this era, isn't it?” Ivander said and chuckled.

“No,” Oroki said. “None of them were worth dulling my sword.”

“I sensed one leaving, you let him run away?”

“He was pathetic,” Oroki said. “Nothing to worry about.”

“What about the one that killed Balzar?”

“I'm not concerned about him either.”

Ivander shook his head and walked past Oroki, barely grazing his shoulder. He tossed the four star ball in the air, as if he were playing with a softball. “Well, I'm glad that you don't give a shit. But, I do. Why the fuck did you give the one star ball away?”

“It is safe with the fools who took it. They wish it not to be in our hands, so they will protect it for us. We can come to claim it at anytime, it's not like they can stop us.”

“The one who fought Rex, I sense him growing stronger by the day. He doesn't hide his power, he lets burn bright all the damn time. He's a Saiyan. You heard what Grick told us about the Saiyans. If we leave him unchecked we might have a problem on our hands. I think it's time for me to kill him.”

“No,” Oroki said. “I have something special lined up for that one. You can have the boy.”

Ivander scoffed. “You know, I hate you sometimes.”

Oroki bent down and picked up his dragon ball, tucking it beneath his arm before gliding into the sky. “Hate is a weak emotion.”


Eroga, the anthropomorphic wolf, snickered after winking into existence on the rooftop of a large inn. Wisps of smoke rose up from a chimney to his left. He heard the rustling of carts and the clattering of hooves on the hard packed ground below. Traders shouted to the crowds of travelers and peasants who flocked in from the River District, hawking whatever supplies and merchandise they could.

East City, in the Feudal Era was nothing like its modern appearance. That is, before it was a smoldering crater, when it was a bustling metropolis. No, in the Feudal Era it was the largest of cities, home to millions of people, all fleeing from the Civil Wars in the west. The Eastern Emperor had a massive standing army of samurai and infantry, and nearly endless resources. His Empire had brought great innovations in science, medicine, and spiritualism—all adding to its allure.

However, none of that was a concern to Eroga, who served as the Aspect of the Hunter. Sniffing the air, he caught wind of his target. He had been chosen by the Guardian, Kami, to fulfill one specific task, and that was to guide the young warrior Yamcha to the origins of the Death God, Oroki. He hopped off of the roof, landing softly in the alley. A few chickens, who had been pecking at a half opened sack of rice, clucked in terror and fluttered away, scared by the humanoid wolf's presence.

Eroga wore tightly woven black clothing over his white-gray fur. His crimson eyes had a strange human appearance to them, nothing like that of a real wolf. Yamcha and his green skinned friend had entered the inn. Eroga waited a few moments before following after, taking a seat at the bar.

Yamcha ordered a meal and when the waitress brought it to him, Eroga made his move. He slipped through a crowd of rowdy drunks with a nimble grace and slid into the seat next to Yamcha.

“So, you've come to the Feudal Era, have you young warrior. I am your spirit guide, Eroga,” he said, whispering into his ear. “This is the era the Death God was born, from the ashes of the Western Civil war and the Satan Clan's siege upon the East Capital. However, we are twenty years removed from that event. We will see a young Oroki and his first encounter, the one that started it all.”

Eroga pointed to a young boy about the age of seven, wearing nothing more than rags. He stood near the entrance to the kitchens, begging a young serving maid. To his right a smaller boy, just a toddler hung on the tail of his rags, watching as his big brother tried to rustle something for them to eat

“I'm sorry, one copper coin will get you a piece of bread. This isn't charity kiddo,” the serving maid said.

“Road bandits killed our father, please,” little Oroki pleaded. “We are so hungry.”

A robust innkeeper, wearing an undersized silk kimono approached. He had red cheeks and flabby pectorals that hung out like man breasts. He reached his chubby hand for Oroki's shoulder. “Come on you street rat, you need to quit buggin' my servers and customers.”

However, his hand was intercepted by a one in a black glove. A grizzle warrior wearing thick llamelar armor had stopped the grab. His long black hair was tied into a topknot, and both of ice blue eyes bore into the fat innkeeper's. The innkeeper let out a howl of fear. For the warrior was terrifying, with a long jagged scar running from his cheek to his ear and an obsidian sword dangling from his belt.

The warrior squeezed his hand and there was a sickening crunch. The innkeeper howled and collapsed to his knees, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. “U-unhand me you cretin!”

The warrior glanced to the serving maid. “Bring this boy a piece of bread,” he said and tossed her a single copper coin. She nodded hesitantly, and rushed off to retrieve the provision.

Young Oroki stood in awe of the power and majesty of the warrior before him. “Thank you mister.”

“Rise up and meet a challenge. Never let a peon tell you no,” the warrior said. “For inside each man lies a Death God. Do you wish to be a Death God, boy.”

“I-I do!”

Ian Walked up the steps leading to the Capsule Corp building from his shuttle. His phone buzzed. It was a message from Asakaya letting him know he was ten minutes out. This only made Ian grin. His goal was finally becoming a reality. Capsule Corp would be his today.

He paused a moment, chills running up his spine. The hairs on his body sticking up. The area grew brighter with a tint of green. He looked over at Cira who was looking up at the roof of Capsule Corp, his eyes fixed on the source of the light. Ian followed his gaze and he almost let out an audible groan as he saw the source.

It was the brute. The brute Cira found out was Broly. A Saiyan and a bit of a psycho. If he was here, it meant the brat wasn't far behind. They always seemed close, almost like they were married, though he suspected it was more or less an uneasy alliance. There had to be a weak link in the chain and he may know what it is, though he needed to see them both to be sure.

"Looks like this plan has been delayed. Cira, I trust you, but this is something I gotta handle. Get Iric here asap. I may need his help for this part of the day. Hopefully this won't last long." Cira nodded, turned and walked away, dialing Iric.

Ian continued to look up though he noticed the brute wasn't necessarily looking at him. It was like he couldn't find him, or didn't remember who he was, but he knew the brat would remember. Looking at the doors to the capsule corp, he began planning. If he went in, there was a strong chance that they would interrupt the meeting and completely ruin everything. If he stayed here, same thing could happen.

No way could he stay hidden, even if his power level was reduced to nothing. He had tof ace this head on and figure out what the hell they wanted now. He had to draw them from this place. Turning, he walked to catch up to Cira.

"We're leaving." They headed out and boarded the shuttle. Cira sat in the pilot seat as the doors shut and with a whine of the engines, they took off. Ian sat at his desk and sent Asakaya a message to deliver the contract and handle the negotiations himself. Advised to not push but to insist they sign them and if they don't, to contact him.

"Cira, find an uninhabited plot of land and land there. If I have to show my other self, I don't want the general populace to know."

"Yessir."

It didn't take long as there was much land between the cities. The shuttle landed and Ian took his hat and coat off hanging them up before kicking his feet up on his desk with the shuttle doors open, waiting for the two to arrive. He hoped it wouldn't take long at least.

WC:503
TWC:2986

Broly watched a shuttle lifted off of a nearby launch pad, a detectable power level aboard. Narrowing both eyes, the Saiyan locked onto the aircraft. Boy or not, he would apparently have to handle the business transactions involved. Gritting both teeth together, the Saiyan briefly wondered where the child continued to vanish to; while it was not shocking that he was continually disappearing on him, it was disconcerting. Broly did not like being abandoned; not that many other people did. It was simply irritating that the boy he had managed to grow somewhat close to was now disappearing on him every few moments; almost as if he were fair weathered. Scowling, Broly quickly tried to cast the thought away. He did not have the time to think of such things; he had to follow this craft or risk losing his power forever. He did not know when he would next be presented the chance to gain his strength back.

The warrior's feet rose off of the dome with little effort, his body pursuing the shuttle quickly. He could only wonder what this man would want in return for helping him; one thing Broly had been told about Ian Lancaster was that he was a business man. He would likely want something in exchange. A favor, some aid here and there, perhaps an alliance with him. Broly was not quite sure as to what he would be asked for, but he was very sure that it was nothing he wanted to fulfill. Something about this man seemed foreboding, untrustworthy. While it may have been the fact that he was a demon, it might've also been the fact that he was scum. He had never heard anything positive about the man, probably because he had been educated on his existence by Ryouji. Even the Saiyan knew that most things were filled with some form of bias, and that the boy was not spared from them. If anything, he'd be more subject to them via his youth and quickly changing tastes. This knowledge only shook Broly's trust in the child that much more as he flew, the shuttle quickly passing over city limits. They were going to do this somewhere out of sight?

How convenient. Broly was not in the mood to deal with the populace of West City, despite how easy it would be to do so. This was something he was doing of another's volition; he would not waste his energy on others. The shuttle began to dip in the distance, arcing toward the countryside on the horizon, clearly preparing for a landing. The meeting would take place soon enough, as it seemed. Scowling unpleasantly, the warrior altered his own flight path in order to match Lancaster's shuttle, his body slowly descending through the warm summer air as his blood began to rush more heatedly through his veins. If things came down to force, he doubted that Grick's ceremony would work...If things came down to force, he'd be left to fend for himself, something he was not exactly opposed to, but not quite keen on. Broly had fended for himself long enough.

After several minutes of flying, he caught up to the now landed shuttle; planting both feet firmly in the grass, Broly glanced at the open doors. So he was inviting him in? How pleasant of him, surely. Grinning darkly, the Warrior's boots plodded forward with a purpose, intent on entering the demon's den. He had entered much more dangerous places in the galaxy, and was thus unafraid. He doubted that this man, Lancaster, could do much harm to him. He had bested-- or rather, the boy had bested him in battle before...and Broly could best the boy in battle.

Swaggering toward the man's desk, Broly glowered down at the fellow condescendingly. "Well, Demon. It appears we've met; but look on the bright side. This time, I require something of you. Something that few others can provide me with."

Leaning forward, the Saiyan's left hand ignited with emerald energy, flexing and bending casually as his right was placed on the desk. "So here I come, with the opportunity of a lifetime; you give me what I want, and I allow you my... services."

WC: 711
TWC: 4,806