Machinations of Blood and Bone

Dark eyes surveyed a thriving metropolis, which appeared perfectly content to bask in it’s own unique mixture of sloth and weakness. Vegeta could not honestly claim to enjoy such a place; then again, he rarely enjoyed the hovels he had been sent to in his quest to claim the Universe in the name of his father’s empire. His right hand cocked at his chest, forcing a brilliant bright flash of purple energy to amass in his fingertips, glowing like a neon strobe light.

The energy danced and pulsed, shook and wove it’s way through the air. To any who were even slightly educated about the nature of ki energy, this would be a major indication of pending destruction or incoming annihilation. The Saiyan Prince after all, was not one to play around. He was here to draw out the most powerful warriors the Earth had, he was here to illustrate to them his own power and might. He was here to crush this pathetic planet once and for all, after the repeated failings of men like Kakarot and any others.

Where they were low-class, where they were incompetent trash, Vegeta was the epitome of his species. He was the Prince of All Saiyans, a heartbeat away from ruling an empire that threatened to encompass the entire galaxy. The Saiyan Race was a race of warriors with he and his father at the head, ruling over everything within their reach with an iron fist. Of course, there was the occasional pesky threat from Frieza, but something told him that the little Tyrant would be deposed soon enough.

The energy grew with the crack of air nearby, as the familiar sensation of adrenaline shooting through his veins began. Oh, how Vegeta loved cleansing worlds of such waste; that was all Earth’s population was. They were not fit for slavery, not fit for military service. They were wastes of life and oxygen, carbon and chemicals better put to use feeding the Saiyan War Machine. By cleaning the face of this planet, he could provide his race with another hub, another place to attack from. Another place to grow.

The corners of his mouth rose in a manner most grim, suggesting the widespread destruction that was to undoubtedly come. The energy grew, now encompassing his entire hand as he shifted his hips, connecting his wrists and preparing to aim his growing attack. As his body turned and curved, a spark of violet light shot from the tips of his wrists to the top of his head, forcing his already erratic hair to shiver.and shake in the wake of it’s motion, which was followed by several more shots of electricity.

Almost hesitantly, they formed a life-like aura around his body, which seemed to rock with the growing breeze and the thundering of his heart. He would destroy this metropolis, unless someone appeared to stop him. This much was certain; though the question remained, who would dare stop a warrior of his caliber? Vegeta was widely known as one of the most powerful warriors in existence, despite the fact that so many seemed apt to challenge him.

The wide swath of destruction he had wrought across the planets marked by his father had noted this well enough. As his energy rose to it’s maximum height, the Saiyan’s eyes lit with a fire that was likely only internal. He could already see this city burning under the weight of his fist, the citizens screaming in fear and agony as he blew their civilization to bits with a single, masterful stroke of his power. His Galick Gun was his most powerful attack; capable of destroying the most powerful of fighters.

Unfortunately for this little city on the coast, Vegeta doubted that there were many powerful warriors here. After all, the highest power level he’d detected before he left, on a scouter that was most definitely functional, was in the low thousands. That was definitely within his combat range, and it was most definitely within a range he felt fit to destroy. Snickering briefly as his body felt the strain of rising energy, the Prince thrust both hands forward.

”Show me something worthy of my time, Earthlings; show it to me so that I can cast it to the heap with the rest of your pathetic little planet!”

Immediately, a tide of violet energy ripped through the air toward the center of North-Southwest City, crackling with latent power and destructive force. His hair was blown back by the wind released and his cape was ruffling and weaving in the breeze, which appeared to be emanating from the head of the wave directed toward the Earth below, which was already coating the entire city in a bath of purple light.

WC: 801

Whether it was unfortunate or the works of fate, Krillin was not new to bad luck, or the sense of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. The small city on the coast was closest to Roshi’s island, one of the many convenient shop spots to get supplies for his master. Well, mainly adult magazines which he could now legally purchase, unlike when he bribed the old man when he was a kid, but still… He was his master’s student and did what he was told, especially now that he started training with him once more. There were a growing number of evil presences upon the Earth, and Goku himself may no longer cut it when it came to defending their beloved planet.

“Well then, that takes care of that. This should last him for a good few months, awesome training here I come!” Krillin grinned happily as he exited the adult shop, the items themselves stored in a capsule to save him some questionable looks and embarrassment. Despite innocently getting excited about how much stronger he was going to be, he came off as if he had a great time from where he came from. He might as well be covered in the magazines he bought, it made no difference now.

He felt a light ringing and reddening of his ears when he noticed the people around him giving him the looks he dreaded, causing him to go for a hasty retreat. Hey, he was no pervert! Well not anymore at least, many years of single life would turn any man into a gentleman, well so he would like. Then he heard someone yelling in some barbaric brute like voice, making some kind of ridiculous announcement about the planet being pathetic. “Oh great, I see even this city isn’t even exempt from road rage…” he mumbled, expecting some cars passing as well as the voice to follow. Except no cars passed him by, nor was that voice within sight range.

“Huh?”

Eyes blinking in confusion, and then he felt it, a power, a terribly strong power; of pure menace. His body shook visibly as he looked up to where his ki sensing abilities led him to, to the sky of all places. Of course! Where the voice came from much sense now, and with this immense ki, the owner of that voice he assumed could fly like he did. “Oh man, what is going on? We haven’t had a major threat since Piccolo at the tournament, and now we got powers even more evil than him showing up. What should I do?” Krillin thought in slight panic as he grit his teeth and fists, what was someone like that doing here?

As if answering his questions, the power he was sensing began to build up fast. The monk quickly dashed across the streets so he could get a better view without the numerous buildings blocking his way, soon finding an opening. Skidding to a halt as he turned a corner, his mouth gagged open at the sight he saw. A glowing purple entity, it was no mistake that this being was charging up an attack, and he was in the middle of it!

“OH NO!”

That was all he could manage to yell before he dived behind a building to duck as the purple light expanded and began to engulf the whole city in its brilliance, following quickly by the ki attack’s destructive power. The roars of a raging storm boomed about the poor warrior’s ears, and all he could do was force every effort and energy to shield his body from harm. There was no way he was going to die like this, there was just too much he still wanted to do before leaving the world of the living.

The rush of burning air passed by and through the monk as the attack continued to disintegrate the entire city, if it wasn’t for his heightened ki abilities then maybe he was be as good as Popo’s toast. He hung on though; the sheer determination to live drove him on. Despite being killed once by the infamous King Piccolo, he was a survivor, and he would survive this unfortunate fate too. “Damn it all…” A minute seemed like eternity for the young man when the burning sensation finally faded, and now he had to fathom the aftermath of it all.

It was horrible; he was surrounded by nothing but collapsed buildings and dead people upon them. He couldn’t sense a single soul upon the humans in the city; they had all been wiped out for sure. “No way…” the monk bowed his head as closed his eyes hard in mourning, this wasn’t right, it just made him sick to his gut. Those innocent people, they did nothing to the one responsible, and their lives were ended just like that, it just wasn’t fair.

“Grr…”

He glared daggers towards the flying assailant, quickly running his way closer to him while staying hidden. With the sacrifice of the people who were slaughtered, he would use that to his advantage with a sneak attack. He got a closer look and saw a being in armour he had never seen before, maybe an alien? Who knows, but it didn’t matter. Despite how strong he was, Krillin was not going to let him get away with it. “Here it goes…” So the human crouched down on all fours as if ready to sprint for some Olympic event, with a slight grunt his eyes then glanced up at the assailant to aim his trajectory of movement. A white aura then glowed about the monk’s features, whilst his body steadily built up the inner power for maximum thrust. With a zip, the human pushed with all his might, flickering out of sight with the sheer speed of his movement, way beyond what the average human eye could comprehend.

A split second later and Krillin had reappeared behind the attacker with his aura blazing like wildfire, fists clenched and connected together as he raised them above his head. “WHY YOU!” the human called as his swung his fists down upon the Saiyan Prince’s head, intending to send him into the very rubble that he had created. Considering the mass of tall spiky hair before the head itself, there was a moment where he wondered if the oddly shaped hair would prove a factor in cushioning the blow. Nah, he was way too superhuman for that to have any impact.

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1,085 words

"The hell was that?" Trunks felt a power he was all to accustomed to. Could this really be? Could this be what he had been searching for all along? The saiyan prince knew that only one power could muster up this kind of deadly power. A sight that if it were true, would fill the saiyan prince with such emotion that he was not sure how he would actually react. Something inside him knew exactly how he would react, the darkness of his inner being would most defiantly emerge, ready to rip anyone and anything apart that stood in his way. This power had come from his prey, the one he had been in search to destroy.

His father.

Trunks looked down towards his feet. There lie his sword, nestled peacefully in its sheath. This weapon of mass destruction would not be so peaceful in a few moments. He hoped it would be dug deep within his fathers chest, ending his pathetic life and making Trunks the rightful king of all saiyans. The joy of this feeling filled his body with such emotion, that he could hardly keep his hands from trembling. The saiyan lifted his sword up and over his shoulder, allowing it to drape across his back.

Trunks allowed a smirk to sneak across his face, this would be the end of an era. He couldn't help but muster a laugh as he blasted off in a heap of black aura. Heading straight towards his father, and whatever was left of this smoldering town that he had laid waste to.

Heading into his destiny.

WC: 263

OOC: Sorry for the short post, just making my intro.

The city exploded in a plume of smoke and fire, forcing a tidal wave of warmth to flood the air, saturating the already humid weather. A single bead of sweat rolled down his brow, rushing down his face as his ragged breathing began to even out. The blast had taken a fair amount out of him; perhaps too much. Destroying a simple city shouldn’t have required so much effort on his part, but it should’ve done what he needed it to do. Undoubtedly, any warrior of note would’ve survived.

If they had perished in the blast, they weren’t worth his time, nor were they truly worth the time fate had already alotted them. It was an undoubtedly pitiable situation. The universe had seen fit to grace the unworthy with life; those who were unfit for service, unfit for labor, unfit for even the most basic of tasks that Saiyan life demanded. While some would call it unfair for him to hold another race to the standards of his own, Vegeta did not consider it in that manner.

His race would soon spread to the very ends of the galaxy in a manner very much like how his smirk was presently spreading across his features. He watched, eyes glowing from the firelight down below, as an ashen rain fell upon the ruins of the city he had just chosen to destroy. Smoke was rolling across a thick layer of ash, a breeze carrying both across the remains of a once thriving metropolis. It was beautiful; truly.

Few other warriors in the galaxy could experience such a satisfying feeling to accompany an already fulfilling sight. The elation of destroying something so wasteful and worthless; it was washing over him and filling him with a feeling unparallelled. At least, it had been until a lone warrior emerged from the freshly created wasteland down below, seemingly from nowhere. Vegeta’s eyes barely had time to widen before this wildman sprang forth to fill his field of vision, his breath barely the time to leave his lungs and his hands none of the time needed to raise.

Spittle flew freely from between his lips as his head tilted back and his new opponent’s fists slammed hard into his face, crushing his nose and forcing his body downward through the air. He could feel his blood, coppery and sour, sliding over his lips and eyes before splattering against his armor and running through his hair. Gravity was mixing with momentum and his spinning body, forcing the material to fly everywhere as he approached rapidly rising Earth.

Suddenly, but not as suddenly as he had been ambushed, the Saiyan’s body exploded with a burst of energy. His lungs filled with air and his body stopped in mid-flight, hands and legs thrown to the wind as if he were an eagle in flight. ”Grah!”, he screamed, dispersing the blood and sending sparks of glittering purple light into the space around him. Whoever this new arrival was, the Saiyan had to admit that he was already proving irksome. Troublesome? Not quite yet; powerful? Far from.

”Meddlesome Earthling! Do you have any idea who it is you’ve just attacked?”, the Prince’s voice, loaded with rage, carried above the sounds of burning fire and crumbling buildings below. He was now climbing upward in the air, violet energy surrounding his body but amassing in larger concentrations around his fists, his face twisted and contorted by rage and malicious intent.

”Ohoho; ohh, no, of course you wouldn’t. You humans have no idea who has decided to grace your pathetic excuse for a planet, do you?”

Now, as Vegeta’s rage filled face jumped and rocked with a dangerous laughter, his hand slowly rose to chest level. He was several meters away from the human who had assaulted him, his rage obscuring his foresight and caution. This human; was he for real? His hair was missing, his skin a tanned pink and his clothes; good lord, his clothes looked like something out a children’s comic book. Was this the paladin who had come to obstruct his path, the shining example of humanity’s finest warrior caste?

How fitting that such a backwater mudhole would have such a pathetic warrior as it’s defender.

”Feel pride, Human. The Prince of Saiyans, Vegeta, has decided to see to your fate personally!”

With that, his fists thrust forward, his legs blown upward and his body backward from the force as a wave of light exploded from his fingertips toward his opponent. This fool had managed to survive the first wave, that was true enough. But could he survive a second, albeit weaker, energy assault? The Prince honestly doubted it. Few warriors had the ability to match his energy output.

WC: 812
TWC: 1,613

Krillin was enraged at this man’s killing instinct, it reminded him much of the infamous King Piccolo. To think that another reincarnation of the devil himself would show himself here after so many years of peace, this just wasn’t right. And from his fury, he managed to somewhat avenge the lives that were lost as his fists collided with the enemy’s face instead of his head like he intended. Though attempting to cause him mental harm while he could, the blood that splattered over his face and body was just as satisfying, payback was supposed to hurt like a bitch after all.

“Heh, take that!”

Grinning widely, this reminded him of his match during Piccolo Junior at the world tournament. No one expected the small bald guy to land a hit on the green maniac, but he did so with skilful trickery and this was another result of his training and battle expertise against a formidable opponent. Gloating a little in his own mind and hoping to see the predicted ironic crash back into the rubble the enemy had created, his heart skipped a beat as he saw the being stop himself mid-flight just like Piccolo did those years back. Was his roll going to be over just as fast?

As he heard the rebuttal, he could hear the high dosage of arrogance, the spite, it disgusted him, he had no right. The human never saw the man in his life, yet he was acting like he owned the planet already. “Hey! I don’t care who you are! You can’t just come here and blow up a city like that and get away with it!” Krillin yelled through grit teeth, this person was simply pure destructive evil, there was no compassionate heart that was for sure, just a cold hearted killer. Oh man, what did he do to fight such an opponent?

Krillin looked up warily as he saw the Saiyan float up, and then he could feel the building of ki again, the familiar sense of danger approaching. “I won’t let him hit me unprepared this time…” the monk vowed, cupping his hands behind his back. He might not be that physically strong like Goku and Piccolo, but his technique and ki sensing abilities were beyond exceptional. By using that skill, the human went to match the energy signals he was sensing, with the building up of ki between his hands.

“Prince of ‘Saiyans’, Vegeta? You’re a vegetable prince of a bunch of westerners? What?” Krillin wondered with a blink of confusion, interpreting the name of the monkey warrior race as a direct translation of the Chinese ‘people of the west’. No time to figure that out though as he sensed the ki release a split second before the Saiya-jin’s fists snapped forwards, with Krillin following suit with throwing his cupped hands to counter it, with his master’s signature move.

“KAMEHAMEHA!”

The two energies clashed and collided furiously with each other, sending a shockwave in all directions upon impact, effectively forcing the Earthling monk back from its sheer force, orange ki flapping furiously in the wind. He could feel the heavy weight of the ki waves strain his arms, but he did not let it interrupt his concentration. No, Krillin did not aim to push the energy back, it was a suicidal path to take with such a strong opponent. All he could focus on was just having the energy smash against each other in synch, just enough so they’d both nullify each other out and render their destructive power useless.

“Kh…”

He then saw the ki barrage slowly lessen and smoke come forth from the point of meeting, the remnants of light from the energy waves sparkling between the dust cloud that continued to grow in size and cloud both fighters. Now that was his chance, he could still sense the ki of his opponent despite his vision being obscured. Maxing out he speed once more as his aura flourished around him in a fury, the human leaned forward and dashed through the smoke. He extended his right arm outwards, its hand forming a brightening energy orb.

“Do not underestimate us humans, you stupid prince!”

Once upon range of his opponent, he went to smash the ki ball into Vegeta’s face with as much force as he could muster. Yes he went to aim there, it was best to aim at an already existing wound no matter how minor it was, and the face was probably one of the more vulnerable spots on the body. Krillin wasn’t the most honourable of fighters, but neither was the person before him, it was only fair.

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775 => 1,860 words

'It has to be father. I never felt a power such as his, and this was it. Special saiyan warriors carry a certain type of energy with in them. Father has this power, as do i. I will have to find him, and destroy him.'

Trunks thought of what he would do and say once he arrived and actually saw his father face to face. It had been so long, considering he died soon after Trunks was born, at least during his timeline. This was the true meaning of which he decided to come back so far from the future. His goal was to exterminate the rightful "King of all Saiyans", then become the king himself. He longed to rid himself of this second place title, "Prince of all Saiyans". Trunks was not second place, he was one of the strongest warriors in his time. He knew that he had it in him to completely destroy his fellow saiyan, and shed his shared royal blood.

The city was a complete mess. It had defiantly suffered it share of destruction from the energy blast earlier. Trunks couldn't careless about any of the people nor the town that lay in ruin beneath him. His only concern or care was with his father, Vegeta. The only problem was that it seemed as if this damned town was empty. Where the hell could he have gone so quickly? The young saiyan could feel his rage building within his chest, sending short surges of power to erupt around his body. Trunks was about to go insane, how the hell could he have been so close and yet so careless. He clinched his fist to a point which would break a normal mans hands, but he was no normal man.

"God dammit! Father!!" Trunks screamed as his body surged with electricity. His power had increased to folds that he was only used to during battle. He was in a battle, an internal battle. He fought with himself on the inside.

Then he noticed something.

To his left in the distance, two men were at arms. Trunks watched them throw punches at speeds only skilled fighters would be able to do. Could it be? He wasn't going to waste anymore time trying to figure it out. Trunks blasted towards the two men, with ill intentions in mind. As he closed the gap between himself and these warriors he could finally see who they were with his own eyes. The first, was a short human that though small in stature, showed he had some hidden power under that bald skull. It was not this man that he was concerned with, for next to him stood the saiyan king.

It was Vegeta.

Trunks could not help but allow a smirk to take over his face. Now that he was in front of this man, what would he do? He didn't know for sure, all he could bring to mind was death.

"Father!" Trunks started. "Forgive me for bringing your going away present so late, but here it is. It's death, I hope you like it!" The saiyan prince dropped down into his fighting stance, legs spread around shoulder length with his fist up ready to battle. It was time, time for his destiny. If this small man got in the way he would be killed as well, nothing would stop Trunks from completing this task. "I will be king, father!"

WC: 567
TWC: 830

For what seemed like an eternity, the Prince’s energy did battle with the bald man’s ki. Though the bald one looked incompetent, the Saiyan was being forced to admit that he was more formidable than he had first assumed. He was most definitely putting on a worthwhile show; more interesting than anything else this planet had given him so far, anyway. While their energy dispersed into the air, his muscles began to relax, though his teeth remained firmly ground together.

What was it about this species, that made them so irksome? Was it the way they wasted space, filling their planet with a myriad of strange structures and devices? No, but that was certainly one possibility. Another was the fact that their warriors were few and far between; they were a populace filled with dead weight. An anthill filled with injured workers was not a useful ant hill; it was one that deserved to be crushed.

As the heat haze filled the air, smoke emerged as a veil over the Prince’s eyes. Both black pits narrowed, struggling to lock onto his opponent through the smoke. If he lost track of this human, something told him that he would receive a firm fist or bastardized boot to the face. Something about this man was infuriating; bothersome and foolhardy. He fathomed himself powerful enough to take on the Prince of All Saiyans.

Suddenly, he caught sight of the bald one’s shining head through the smoke, the tiniest glint of sunlight hitting it. His lips parted, preparing to issue some kind of combative statement; he was going to beat this fool down, and he was going to let him know it. As the smoke parted from around his opponent’s speeding body, Vegeta’s hoarse voice ripped through the air in retaliation, his guard and confidence level rising.

”Oh, that’s rich! What arsenal did you draw that insult out of?”, his voice was racked with laughter. However, it quickly died down as soon as he noticed the ball of energy charging in the human’s hand; he was preparing for a point blank strike, hoping to capitalize on the damage he’d managed to inflict earlier. Unfortunately for the pathetic little man, it would not be so easy a second time.

As his opponent’s wrist shot forward, blast consuming his hand, Vegeta slid to the right. His left knee rose quickly, shooting forward in an attempt to embed itself into the human’s gut; he knew well from his dealings with the rest of humanity so far that human reaction tended to lead over rational thought. If he could force some kind of pain reaction from this creature, the odds stood that he would be able to defeat it.

However, he could feel a large ki approaching from the horizon. This one was easily larger than the human’s, and definitely more intriguing. It surpassed his own, a feat not easily accomplished. As the Saiyan’s knee retreated, his body slid backwards through the air, his eyes glancing furtively toward the direction of this new arrival. He would be here in a matter of seconds; that much was assured.

The only question was, did he want to duke it out with both of these strengths at the same time? While it was considered very unsaiyan-like to retreat, fighting both was practically suicide. He would eventually be overwhelmed and defeated. On the flipside, the battle would probably prove even more entertaining. Still, he doubted he was going to be able to do anything impressive against the pair of them.

Turning his eyes to the bald one as his body floated backwards over the smoldering remains of some city.

”Gah, consider yourself lucky! You’ve found yourself in the company of a Guardian Angel for now, creature.”

He spat the words, as if they themselves were the source of the sudden anger and resentment he could feel brewing in his chest. In truth, it was their source, the silver haired kid on the horizon who was now approaching him. As the child neared, he began spouting off nonsense about his father, something about his heritage? Was he under the assumption that Vegeta was his father? As he shouted about being king, he dropped into his battle stance. This was not what he had been hoping for.

”Boy, I’ve no idea who you think you may be, but if you’re an inhabitant of this scum-filled planet you’ll never be King.”

Words practically dripping with malice hung in the air, as Vegeta’s body took off, flying toward the horizon. He would come back for vengeance another day; this was not a threat, this was not a chance, this was a promise.

WC: 810
TWC: 2,423

--Vegeta Exits--

This was the first time that he had seen his father up close and personal. In his timeline Vegeta was already gone upon his birth, as well as this timelines Vegeta had no idea who Trunks actually was. This would all soon change, as the saiyan prince would finally get to destroy the monkey that sat on his shoulders for so long. He would finally gain the right to say that he was truly the "Saiyan King", like he knew he would always become. It was such a shock seeing Vegeta this close, that he was almost at a loss for words. Vegeta didn't waste anytime voicing his opinion, which only proved more and more that Trunks and Vegeta were one in the same.


”Boy, I’ve no idea who you think you may be, but if you’re an inhabitant of this scum-filled planet you’ll never be King.” snapped Vegeta, his voice was dark and hoarse. Just the way his mother had described him, but the look in his eyes were not one of a proud and powerful saiyan warrior. It was worry. Something Trunks never figured he would ever see from his father. Something was not right, was Vegeta not the powerful warrior he was brought up to believe. How did Trunks surpass him in strength? This timeline was so confusing, Trunks held his hand over his head as he began to create a headache. All this confusing shit left him with a migraine.

This was his downfall.

With all the stress and thinking that was going on within the saiyans head, he didn't even notice Vegeta blasting off into the horizon. No. He would not let this opportunity slip away from him. Trunks had more speed that his father, judging by how slow he moved away from the battle scene. For some reason though, Trunks had no urge to chase him. He didn't understand. For years all he wanted was to destroy Vegeta, now while he was near him, he would let him leave? He didn't understand it, but he was going to allow it to happen. Something about his father not being strong enough, seemed almost unfair. It wouldn't be as exciting as a battle of this magnitude should be.

No he would let him leave, and destroy him when the time was right. It was only right.

"Go ahead and leave father, but know this. When you return, I will be waiting, waiting to deliver you to your maker."


WC: 410
TWC: 1,240

“We’ll see who’s laughing once I prove those insults true!”

Retorting at Vegeta’s comeback, he though the Saiya-jin was taking him lightly still. But it would seem his luck had run out, his opponent had shifted to the side nimbly and making him wide open with the open swipe with his wrist still proceeding. He could just barely see his opponent move out of the way with the corner of his eye as sweat beaded at the back of his head, anticipation of his to be critical counter.

“Darnn it…”

Krillin doubled over, clenching his gut in intense pain after Vegeta’s knee slammed into it, flying back quickly to gain some distance again, his only safety measure. Teeth grit and face contorted, the human could briefly sense the warrior’s true power through his knee, it was terrifying to say the least.

“Oh man, this guy is unbelievingly strong… and he’s not even trying!”

His thoughts danced about his mind, slowly registering that he was in immediate danger. There was no way that this prince will let him go alive, so it seemed he had no choice but fight to his death, or maybe fight to flee? He didn’t have much time to contemplate as another ki approached, claiming the guy was his father. But this guy, his ki was even more incredible, similar in fact… perhaps the two were related after all? Then again, it was none of his business, and dear kami he didn’t want to sense either of them again!

Realising he had been alone with his thoughts for a quite a while, the remains of the once lively city before him, if no one was here prior, it looked like he destroyed the city. Sure he could be cleared soon enough, but all that fuss was really not worth the trouble if it could be avoided. Checking frantically that no one was around pointing their finger at him, he sighed in relief and made his journey home. He had no idea if today’s luck was bad or good, but one thing was for certain, peaceful times were once again over for Earth. It was time for him and his friends to step up and make things right again.

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371 => 2,231 words

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