Revelations of the Damned

by Broly 8/4/2012, 5:52 pm

The Crane Hermit

Easy Quest

Requirements: None

Reward: 1,000 Zeni and 10 Villain Points.

After returning from death, Master Shen has been seething and wishes to destroy everything in his path. He sees great potential in you to become an agent of chaos. He thinks it good fun for you send a message to the people of Earth, that they should be afraid, very afraid. Wreck havoc and impress the dark master.

--

Outside, there was silence. No birds were chirping in the still trees, whose leaves stood as if made of rock, afraid to rustle and pierce the veil. It was as if nature itself stood in fear of the confrontation going on in the castle around it, recently reconstructed by the Crane Hermit himself, a man who was believed to be gone from the Earth. However, as fate would have it, not every death was permanent. Some called fate fickle; others called it an asshole. Broly was most definitely among the lattermost.

Fate had not been kind to the Saiyan since his birth. It had instilled in him an unparallelled power, a strength that threatened to shake the Earth itself. He hadn't sought this might from his birth, this might that rendered his services so coveted. He had managed to grow into it, he had come to love it; he had come to love the thing which estranged him from every society he had ever participated in. Most considered him the perfect example of a self fulfilling prophecy; he became the thing that he hated the most, while trying his damnedest to evade a fate so trying.

How intriguing, the pathway he had traveled.

Inside, two pairs of black eyes bore deeply into each other, each set seeking to shake away the other. Unfortunately for the Crane Hermit, Broly was no easier to shake now than the day in which he'd emerged victorious from their battle. Oh yes; the rumors were true. One of Shen's 'students' had lain waste to his mountain castle, and destroyed him in combat. Of course, the old man had not gone down without a fight, but that did not change his fate. It did not make him the victor of their little tussle.

That was all Broly considered it. He had endured more grueling battles, killed more endurant men than old man Shen. However, he could not deny that the old bastard had come back with a new power, one that rivaled Broly's own. While he would not ask, the Saiyan could only fathom the origins of this strength. He could only hazard guesses at the source of which the old bastard had gained this newfound might.

Energy was eminating invisibly from both warriors, rising around them in unseeable tendrils, noticeable only because of Broly's proficiency with energy. It was obvious that Shen also possessed the ability to sense ki, observable by the counter current he was trying to flood the room with. Broly knew that the old man was more skilled at manipulating his energy, but Broly's was raw power incarnate. It was an intriguing match up, just as it had been before.

The other men in the room remained seated as both titans stared each other down. No one was daring to make a sound out of the fear that they may be subject to their might; no one in the room wanted to risk a dance with the devil, as their master had. Though Broly towered over the man with a commanding presence, he was no less intimidating. They had seen him come back from the grave, they had seen him tear others apart as if they were paper.

”You're alive, old man.”, Broly spoke from beneath a stormy surface, his body oddly still. He knew that the old bastard should have been dead; he had watched him collapse under the fall of rain, the booming of thundery skies. However, all signs of the old man's face caving in appeared to be nonexistent. There was no scarring, no marks. Shen showed all the signs of being a new man entirely. It was strange; unique, dangerous.

”As are you, Broly.”, the old man spoke calmly, as if nothing had happpened between the two. Was his memory erased, or was he simply well versed in the art of self control? Narrowing his eyes, the Saiyan let his aura flare into the visible spectrum. Wind burst through the wooden walls of Shen's dojo-like room, forcing his clothes to flap and shake. Emerald light was bathing the place in it's glow, forcing several students back to the thin walls, leaving only the powerful in their standing position.

”Were you expecting me to stay dead, perhaps hoping that I would vanish?”, his words were followed by another burst of wind, this time a human's aura. It burst into existence, black and purple light wrapping itself around Shen as he powered up to match Broly's displacement. He would not be outdone by such an insolent pup, with so little life experience. Oh, he knew that Broly was formidable, that he had destroyed many a warrior...But so had Shen.

Broly's silence told the tale; he was confused. Shen had most definitely fallen beneath his fist then, and somehow crawled his way back to the world of the living. Surely, the old man could sense that Broly was still more powerful than he? If not, he would quickly be on the receiving end of his fist once more. Then again, Shen was now far more powerful than he had been on the stormy night that Broly had ended his life the first time. It was baffling; his growth was unprecedented.

It was obviously unnatural.

”Hm...Yes, yes. I can see now, Broly. You were under the impression that I would fall forever. How...cute.”, his words were filled to the brim with condescension. It was almost entertaining, if not downright infuriating, that Shen thought himself powerful enough to deal with Broly. Many men had stood before him in the past, doing a variety of things. Some of them had begged for their lives; some of them had rooted themselves to the ground, in the hopes that they would be able to weather the storm that was Broly.

As many had tried as had failed. He glanced at the man with a mixture of disdain and displeasure now, examining the old Crane with as much scrutiny as he could manage. It was not easy to see a man he had killled come back to life; it was not easy to imagine how one might've done such a thing. Then again, he'd heard tell of an otherworld of sorts. He'd heard the creature, that bug, telling him about some old King's planet in the Otherworld. According to the story, he'd also blown it up.

So had the old man visited this place? Had he acquired the power of hell itself? Such a thing wouldn't be too far fetched. At least, not by his standards. He'd seen some crazy shit in his time. He'd seen a demon emerge from his body, soul first; he'd had his arm ripped off, and he'd seen the birth of his own legend. Broly himself was not too far removed from the superstitious. After all, many mothers told their children his story at night, warning theirchild away from greed and avarice.

It was unfortunate for those children that being as pious as the pope would not help them survive. Broly was, and would continue to be, the judge of who lived and who died. Life was his to mold and shape, his to destroy or eradicate. It was not something he took particular pride in; it was simply truth. He would not deny it, nor would he try to change it.

”It's interesting that a roach like you would worm your way back into the world of the living, Old Crane.” This forced a laugh from the old man, whose body rocked from the sensation. It was hilariously ironic to him; that Broly would call him a cockroach. In his eyes, the situation was the opposite. Broly had proven himself difficult to be rid of; in fact, the old man had begun to harbor the notion that the only way to be rid of him forever was to remove the head and burn the body.

However, that was far more easily said than done. As the warriors continued to stare each other down, their auras slowly lowered. It had apparently been decided that there would be no combat between them for this meeting, something that was more than a little unusual. Broly was not the type to have reservations about murdering someone. In fact, he frequently attempted to murder others before they had a chance to explain themselves or their motives.

Then again, he had good reason. The Crane however, likely lacked such motivations. He had not been betrayed by everyone he'd ever come to cherish or care for, he had never been abandoned so easily or cast aside like a broken toy. His death had been missed by his surviving students, his lack of existence mourned. It was almost wrong to Broly, that such a dark figure would be missed more than he, a warrior who acted in the name of true justice.

He would cleanse a galaxy that was in need of a purge, as was his duty and his birthright. Whether the old man would remain standing in his way, he did not know; but he would not remain standing for long.

WC: 1,514