The Battle of North City

“It is my duty to protect the innocent, as a Prince of the realm! I will not allow you to control me and bring harm to those I should be helping!” the morals of Novashen cried out from it's cage of Chaos, still actively protesting against the manipulation his mind.

“Heh heh, do you not remember how he we killed all those innocents?” a voice identical to the light of Novashen answered, except it sound more cynical, unstable one might even say evil. This was the part of Novashen that balanced his light, that ensured he was not all sacrificing, and still held some selfish desires for himself to ensure his mental stability and prosperity.

If the two were in sync, Novashen would be a much different person, but something far more powerful then him had been drawn to his magical nature, and had decided to make use of him. Using a magical power that dwarfed anything the Prince had ever known, it twist his perception of his mind, making him do evil while he thought he was doing good. Overtime the same spell that twisted his perception gradually worked on his mental defenses, wearing them down as wind and water wears down stone. Then at the pivotal moment, when Novashen's mind was ripe, and the being's presence strongest another spell was cast, a spell that suppressed Novashen's 'light'.

When the darkness of Novashen had finished speaking, a small window of light appeared in front of all that was good about Novashen, it was a window into his memories, his true memories. The scene that unfolded made the light diminish visibly, it was Novashen opening fire on a bar full of people. The energy of his attack exploding across the supports of the bar sending it crashing down on it's patrons, killing many of them instantly and leaving others crying in pain hoping for rescue.

“That is not our only sin either, had we left that warrior alone rather then continue attacking him the rest of the city might have survived, heh heh,” the Darkness continued, bringing further shame to the Light.

Outside the walls of his mind another scene was unfolding, unhindered by his morals Novashen was flying through the air, an aura of energy surrounded him aiding his speed, and in his arms he held the slumbering Goku who was still completely exhausted from his last attack. Far below the pair, the ground raced by moving in a blur as Novashen was flying as fast as he could.

“Kakarot!!!!” a voice roared from behind him, far below probably in the ruins of North City, judging by it's direction.

The shout of course made Novashen wonder briefly about who it could have been. “Heh heh, but what does it really matter? I have to deliver my parcel!”

So he did not pause in his flight, but continued soaring through the air as fast as he could heading in the direction that the gargoyles had come from. Though one might think that he was trying to find the source of the attack, he had another thought in his mind, as a dark energy drew him in that direction, an energy that promised power and salvation from the Light that binded him.

“You fight for naught. Bow before your Master,” Novashen had heard the command clearly in his mind, feeling it as a summons.

“And what better way then to meet your Master then with a gift? Heh heh,” Novashen cackled as the slumbering Goku remained comatose in his arms.

They flew for many minutes, the wind beating on the aura of power that surrounded their forms. Little by little, a tall dark tower that stood a few hundred feet in the air came into view. Focusing on that tower he zoomed in visually, instantly spying his destination. At the very top was what seemed like a throne of sorts, it had two arm rests and a place to sit, but from all over jutted spines that ended in what could only be razor sharp points. Upon that throne sat a man, whose skin was darker then ebony and staring at it reminded Novashen of the kind of darkness that oblivion must offer, it was a sight that made him shudder in voluntarily as if the very essence of his being was afraid.

“Who is next?” the words reached Novashen, as he had gotten close enough that his enhanced hearing was able to hear it.

Moments later Novashen had arrived at the top of the tower, slowing his pace down so that his new Master would not mistake him for an attacker, and as he gently landed upon the ground he spoke.

“Master, I have heard your call. I have come bearing a gift for you, one whose life force is strong. Please accept it, heh heh,” Novashen said, his tone full of respect for the strange being that had so easily invaded his mind.

As he finished speaking, he slowly approached the foot of his Master's throne, taking care that each step he took was perfect, he did not want to stumble and fall in front his Master. Once he was at the foot of the throne he lowered the slumbering Goku down, presenting him as a gift for his Master to feed upon. Taking a few steps back, he knelt before his Master, waiting patiently for what he would say or do next.

The Made Prince was humbled by the awesome power he felt coming from the being before, and he knew right away that he was in the presence of a true force of the universe, one who had the power to shape worlds. He had to fight not to tremble with excitement, but he felt like a fan meeting his idol for the very first time. As he waited patiently for a reply, his hair that had been the color of unsullied snow flakes falling from the sky, began to change slowly taking on a color like ebony, it was his body's way of reflecting the change in his mind.

WC - 1022
TWC - 3001

Energy swirled and danced around him as he flew through the air in a haphazard spiral, brow furrowed in concentration as he felt out the dark mass that was presently assaulting the Earth. Master's energy was bombarding cities across the word, with an especially large presence in the confines of North City. He had always been told one law; war never changes. The words before had always felt so insignificant, as though they couldn't really apply to him. However, now that that law was broken, everything seemed to be vastly different.

The world seemed sharper, more intense. As darkness threatened to consume everything he had ever known, as tendrils of the nether began to snake their way into existence, things seemed so different. Master's power could be felt from across the planet, serving as a signal of warmth to the heat seeking missile that was Broly. The hair on the back of his neck had risen, and was standing firmly at attention as he zigzagged across the skies, mind perfectly blank.

Even if he did know what to think about this battle, what would it have mattered? In battle, there was no room for thought. There was only room for victory, or room for loss. He had already made the first move. He had stormed the deity's walls, he had torn down the balustrades. Now he was hammering on the gates, utilizing his body and raw strength as a battering ram. He was the strongest being in the world; he was the strongest being he knew of.

He had managed to overcome the rest of Master's dogs; the rabid Rex, who had so preached of his Master's strength. He had humbled the Warrior Ivander, convinced him of the difference between them. He had illustrated to his opposition that he was not a force to ignore; there was not much more he could show them. Master knew of a majority of his strength. He had seen it in action as Broly repeatedly struck down those who doubted him.

Brow furrowing, he contemplated the battle ahead. He had no room for error in this conflict. This was a clashing of the titans, the meeting of two massive giants. The first man to slip would land in his grave. Coincidentally, if Broly fell? The rest of the universe did as well. It wasn't that he cared for the universe that had already cast him out so, no, he wasn't feeling some type of remorse. It was simply fact; if he died, the rest of the universe would fall alongside him.

In some strange way, he could feel the pressure. The fate of, well, everything hung on his broad shoulders. He was on a mission to end a struggle more important than any other in history, with much more to lose. It was exhilarating, to know that all across a world, people were watching his every move. It was blood pumping excitement at it's finest; he could not have hoped for any greater rush. In the back of his mind, he recounted his many victims. He remembered each faceless soul, who had pinned their honor to his chest as he rushed off to combat a force far greater than any other ever seen.

Blank eyes stared up at him from the concrete as he flew over North City, which was now embroiled in countless fires and flames. He had been late to the party already, as it seemed. Residual energy seemed to rise from all angles, assaulting him with a tantalizing buffet of options. Each of the warriors below were powerful enough to offer him challenge, though he knew that they were small game in comparison to the one he was presently hunting.

He took in a steadying breath as his speed increased, energy still surrounding him in a massive torrent of emerald light. He was lighting up the sky with his power, which seemed to rise as he neared his opponent, the source of all the suffering; Master. He did not feel pity for the creatures below, being brutally beaten and battered and broken. He felt sympathy, empathy. He too, had been stepped on and abused, used and taken advantage of. Was that not what the man was doing? Absorbing the power from the weak? Those who needed it most?

Head still blank, the Saiyan spied a large spire in the distance, housing the target of his frustrations. If Master had not come to Earth, Broly would have already acquired the Dragon Balls. The boy would have still been alive, things would have been fine. He would have been the strongest warrior in the universe, without any room for debate; but no. The bastard had wormed his way into a realm that was not his to command. He had wiggled his way into Broly's stomping grounds, and that was not something he would simply let go.

The emerald energy around the warrior's body slowly faded, disappearing from view as he decided to coast forward for the rest of his flight. He could see the peak of the spiked tower, the area in which Master resided. Teeth grinding together tightly, Broly steeled himself for the battle at hand. He knew that there was a chance he would not escape the conflict with his life; he knew that there was every chance in the world that he didn't know the extent of Master's power.

However, he refused to believe that he had gotten this far only to come short. He would not accept anything short of a victory, especially after doing battle with such resilient fighters. He would not allow himself the luxury of death in the face of adversity, no matter the odds. He, begrudgingly, had obligations to attend to, plans to complete. He had a universe to cleanse. He did not need this Master's help, nor did he want it.

A shimmer of heat and light quickly burst out in the air around him as he rolled forward through the air, feet preparing to plant firmly on the obsidian ground previously pockmarked by his most recent conquest, Ivander.

Touching down with a surprising gentleness, the warrior stood tall. Heat haze was quickly gathering around his body in response his energy. As his power continued to build, he glanced to the side, toward a man with long hair, who seemed to have conquered another warrior. Though he had not seen the long haired warrior before, he immediately recognized the warrior on the ground as the very object of his hatred, that which he had sought for his entire life.

Immediately, the sound of crying children ripped it's way through his mind. Flashes of memory, a nursery; his original home, before he was cast out. His brow shook and rumbled as rage built up inside of him. How was it possible, that fate sought to deliver such things to him now? As his body shook and shivers danced up his spine at the sight of a battle torn Kakarot, he forced his eyes to tear away. He could not do this now. Not when so much hung in the balance... For as much as he hated Kakarot, as much as he wanted to tear him limb from fucking limb, he had something else to attend to first.

Golden energy exploded out of thin air, wrapping itself tightly to his figure as his power sky rocketed once more. Black eyes turned to stormy green, while locking onto a dark form atop a spiked throne. Light and dark clashed as his true strength revealed itself, Broly's aura shining like a flare in the night. Master's darkness was something that could not be doubted, but that was not what he was here to do. He was not here for some petty clash between good and evil, he was not here for the politics. He was here to ensure his own survival.

He was here to ensure the survival of his goals, the continuation of his desire. As fuzz filled his mind, the Saiyan's eyes narrowed on Master, a figure who was altogether less impressive than he had originally assumed. He had been hoping for a powerful looking opponent, one with his own body to do combat in. It was obvious by the deformity present that this was not Master's original body. This was not the form he desired in this world.

Broly's hair rose in shining spikes as his strength peaked, wind buffeting the area around him with almost obscene force. Storm clouds were being created in his wake, quickly drawing to the new source of strength and gravity and tension as a fateful scene took place.

”Knock Knock, mother fucker.”

WC: 1,441

Ian thought a moment to Bulma's words. She didn't want to make a decision without her father. It was understandable, and something he could take care of. But he needed to be patient. Patience was a virtue as the saying goes. And here was certainly not an exception. He needed Bulma as an ally.

"I understand your feelings Bulma, and I don't want to sound cold and callous. I too have lost loved ones. Two wives. One of illness, the other nearly killed me out of madness. Died while in a hospital due to her own hands." He didn't state that he was the cause of both and the second succeeded in killing him five hundred years ago. "What I'm trying to get at is for the ones we love so much, we must continue to act strongly. For us and them." He took another sip of wine. "The proposal I have benefits you, your father should he still be alive, me, the company and the Galaxy. I want to buy the company. Straight forward, that's what I want to do."

He put up his hand before she could speak. "No, I don't want to take out the two pins that are the most important in this company. You and your father would be the inventors you were born to be and love to do. And you would just leave the actual expansion and the running of the company to me. Of course you and your father would also be executives. But with me leading the company, you could do what you love and leave the intricacies of business to someone who loves to do it."

Should she agree, he would honor the agreement, at least for awhile. Should she still decline, he had the contract in a folder by his chair that was signed by Doctor Briefs. Dated the day before he vanished.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Iric ducked around a Gargoyal and grabbed its wing. Bringing his elbow down, it smashed into the bone, snapping it into two. He let it fall down to the streets below. There were warriors everywhere and they were quickly being over run. There were a few warriors fleeing into the clouds. Now where the hell were they going? He shrugged as he had to back hand another gargoyle away. His orders were to help this city and he would do so until death.

Seeing a couple dozen aiming for him, he unleashed a sphere of energy that rapidly shot out, engulfing everything it touched, obliterating it. Buildings crumbled and collapsed to the streets below as the energy ate away at them.

It subsided a couple seconds later and he took a deep breath. That move took a lot out of him and more were still coming. What the fuck was going on? This was insane. Who sent these here? What was their purpose?

WC:485
TWC:2069

“Piccolo,” Goku replied. A stray beast came howling from the sky, its claws ready tear up green-skinned warrior. However, before it could touch him, Goku blew it to shreds with a single yellow ball of ki shot from his palm. “I never thought I'd say this. But, you're a sight for sore eyes.”

"It seems we have mutual enemies Goku. I'm willing to put my differences aside, just for this one time." Piccolo replied.

"Namekian! Quick I need your healing skills,” Ruurik called out. Piccolo being raised on earth and spending his entire life on earth was oblivious to the fact he was an Namekian. Let alone knowing their was an entire race of people who resembled him. "If your speaking to me my name is Piccolo. I don't known who the hell this Namekian is. Secondly I'm not some healer, I'm a skilled warrior." remarked Piccolo.

Goku noticing how battered Ruurik, knew it wouldn't be long before he perished. Knowing Piccolo would be too stubborn to aide Rurrik, Goku decided to act. “Just hold on,” Goku said. The mighty warrior Goku was intercepted by a trio of foul gargoyles , dragging him down some where in this forsaken battle field. Ruurik gave chase trying to save Goku but Rurrik himself was face by the appearance of more gargoyles. The situation looked grim for both Goku and Rurrik but then like many times before Goku managed to defy the odds.

Jagged bolts of yellow electricity filled the sky line above North City. Soon followed a tremendous shock wave that shattered windows, set off car alarms, buildings collapsed! An beautiful golden sphere tore through the sky, killing an enormous amount of gargoyles! Piccolo looked up at the sky with sheer amazement and terror. "This is not the same Goku I battled years ago at the martial arts tournament." Piccolo said silently.

"Namekian, there is a fading power signature near where that blue beam went off. Try to see if there is anyone you can save there" said Ruurik in a very polite voice. Piccolo was going to once more ignore the blue skinned alien but he felt the same fading power signature. "Gohan!" Piccolo began a power flight towards Gohan. Returning to the area of North City where Piccolo had left Gohan to fend for himself, the Namekian frantically began to search for young friend. "GOHAN, answer me. Where are you?" shouted Piccolo.

Laying among the rubble, breathing heavily was an battered and victorious Gohan. Piccolo scooped up Gohan from the ground and put the young teen over his shoulders. "Good job Gohan." said the Namekian in a soft and friendly voice. "Let me get you some where safe."

WC: 448
TWC: 1255

“Master, I have heard your call. I have come bearing a gift for you, one whose life force is strong. Please accept it, heh heh,” an insect said.

Master glanced over a the silver haired fellow, his molten eyes scrutinizing in an obvious fashion. There was something vaguely familiar about him. Then again, Master's memories and consciousness were not complete in this form. Entering the realm had separated him from the whole. It was a notion that mortal beings wouldn't fully comprehend. For, they couldn't just cut off their arm and expect it to function on its own while detached from the brain.

Within his arms was another, a muscled fighter that looked like he had seen better days. Master recognized his power, as it had just wiped out thousands upon thousands of his golems. There was little impressive about that feat and he had but a small fraction of power left.

As he reached his long black fingers towards the broken fighter, he felt his psychic bubble penetrated by a force so powerful that nearly shook him from his throne. His head snapped forward, molten setting upon the gray horizon. The snow clouds lingering there parted, revealing an single bead of emerald fire.

“Broly,” Master said. His voice betrayed no emotion, as if he were observing a passing species of bird and noting it.

Despite the incredible speed of his approach, Broly seemed to slow and glide down in front of the throne. The heat he was putting off was immense, turning the drifting snow into rain before they splattered onto the pockmarked platform.

Broly glanced down at the warrior held in the silver man's arms and they his face told it all. Master briefly touched Broly's mind, feeling the resounding hatred that the sight of this individual brought him. It was more than a seething.

To confirm what was going on inside, Master witnessed him transcend before his very own eyes.

Bright light flared up around him, his hair seemed to harden into a helm of golden spikes. Both of his eyes shifted to a uncanny piercing green. The power he held was near to Master's own, something the cosmic entity could barely comprehend. Sure, Master had slipped but a tiny portion of himself into the realm, but that should have been more than enough to match even the gods of this universe. Yet, this lone being somehow had risen up from obscurity to challenge the darkness, in its purest form.

“Knock knock, motherfucker,” Broly said.

“Welcome,” Master replied.

The ebony being rose once again and extended his arm in a lazy fashion. Slithering black tentacles of spiritual energy unfurled from his fingertips, wrapping around the throat of the broken warrior in the silver-haired man's arms. Master lifted him up and thrust him towards Broly, like one would tease a dog with a toy. All the while, he began to suck what spiritual energy was left inside of the warrior.

“You desire to kill this one?” Master said to Broly, his unblinking stare still upon him. “I deny you that charge.”

It took him but a short moment to finish draining the battered fighter, who went slack. As if he were the wrapper of some little candy treat, Master discarded him, throwing his body off the side of the spire. The body vanished into the snowy haze below, destined to land in the boiling lava that had bubbled up to the surface during the spire's creation.

“I hope you've come to kneel, Broly.”


"The proposal I have benefits you, your father should he still be alive, me, the company and the Galaxy. I want to buy the company. Straight forward, that's what I want to do,” Lancaster said.

He was a nice fellow, or at least he seemed to be. Bulma was not an idiot. She knew that most men were in their best behavior when they were attempting to court a woman. While, Lancaster didn't seem to have a romantic interest in her, he was courting for her for her company.

“Not a million years,” Bulma said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Normally in the business realm, she didn't let her fiery side show. But, she couldn't believe the audacity of Lancaster. Was she stupid? Sure, he could help the business grow, be a partner within it, but she couldn't fathom how he could muster enough zeni to purchase the world's largest and most successful organization.

Not to mention, the sentimental value made it completely priceless. Sure, the idea of getting back to basics and inventing sounded great. Having someone else run the company would be a great boon too. But, that was something she could never do; not in one million years. She would hand the company down to her kids someday, and they would carry out the tradition. Never would Capsule Corp. be tainted by money grubbing tycoons.

“I'm sorry Ian,” she said. “You have been a gracious host. But, I think it is time for me to leave.”

She rose from her chair and started for the door.

WC: 852
TWC: 3,365

Ian let out a sigh. First of his cards would have to be played. He reached down and picked up the folder. “What if I told you, your father already started the process which his signature to release his portion of the company to me?” He didn’t want to do this but it seems he had to do what he always had to do. Play the bad guy. “The day before he vanished, him and I met. I told him what I wanted to do with the company and after a little bit of negotiating, he signed over his part. You can read it here. It’s all legal. I had a Lawyer draw up the documents themselves.”

First of the cards played. The card that would maneuver her towards the corner. Sure, she still had avenues to play. She was a smart girl. But he hoped she would be wise and just end the negotiations here, handing over the business to him. That way he could return her father, make sure he stayed quiet, and he they could all go on with life.

“Him and I had a bit of a talk. So please, come, sit down and enjoy some more wine and snacks.” He sent a message to Cira via telepathic link to prepare Doctor Briefs and get them some sandwiches. “Sandwiches are also on the way. Delicious turkey, with mozzarella, sun dried tomato pesto, and spinach leaves. Quite tasty. Unless you’d prefer something else?” He set the folder on the plate where she’d sit. He didn’t want to reveal himself any more than he wanted to. But, he may just need to.

He sent a second message. This one to Iric who should be fighting hard now to save North City. Bring as many as you can to west city. And if not, come to west city anyway. I have something to show Ms. Briefs.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The head of the Gargoyle struck his chest, bringing him down and slamming into the middle of a street that was now deserted. Only a few spectators remained to watch the insane spectacle that took place above them. Dead bodies laid about from those who’s luck had run out when the Gargoyles took them out.

The street caved in, and they both fell into the sewers below. Pushing the creature up, he sent his right elbow across the creature’s jaw then unleashed a blast that tore through it. He laid there a second, feeling the gross human waste water running around him. He’d need to take a shower after this one.

Bring as many as you can to west city. And if not, come to west city anyway. I have something to show Ms. Briefs.

Iric sighed and looked up. Still so many of them high above. It should be easy enough to get a dozen or so to follow him. At least he doesn’t need to save the city any more. He shot upwards back out through the hole towards the swarm above.

He dodged what he could and blocked everything else. He destroyed a couple more as he tried to get the attention of as many as possible. They had a long flight ahead of them. He broke through the swarm and was heading towards west city. Looking back he only saw four chasing him.

“Damn.”

He hoped for more, but he was honestly surprised he got what he did. He continued on, keeping just ahead of them and keeping a pace they could follow. He figured he wanted to show Bulma just what he could do. To show her she was helpless before the demon lord. It would be a few minutes before they got there. He hoped Izon knew that.

WC:626
TWC:2695

There were some survivors here and there.

Struggling against the swarm of locusts that had come down to the city to feast upon Human flesh. Creno and his associates were amongst them. The Evac Ships were already ready, taking the innocents out of harm's way. These were Capsule provided Ships, but they were slightly more cutting edge with the mark of Soldier on them. Soldier was a private group that was a paramilitary organization only connected to Capsule on paper. They received private funding, but they were not owned by Capsule. It was more like a military operation.

Creno's swords were bloodied by then, but that did not seem to slow down the Warrior. Black ichor dripped down from his weapons as he walked towards Soldiers First Class Axis Cruz and Riven Andrez. Most of The Firsts were there, and they were powerful Warriors. It was a red-tape hold up that prevented Soldier from acting right away. Creno watched as the civi's rushed into the shielded gunship. There were several gunships and they were capable of holding the civilians in mass. As Creno stood there he had suddenly felt an extremely uncomfortable sensation.

The mind of a powerful Telepath, a person who could commune with Telepathy, suddenly pierced Creno's unprotected mind. Creno did not have psychic powers, but he did have Ki Sense, and he did have an Astral Crystal which enabled some minor telepathic abilities. Creno heard the message to go to West City. There were several major battles occurring all around North City, but Creno had seen enough battles to know one startling fact: They had lost North City.

Creno sighed.

"What's the matter Creno?" Cruz asked.

"We go to West City with the survivors." Creno told Cruz and then she nodded in agreement.

"What about you, Creno?" Cruz asked.

"I can't do much good here." Creno saw that the big guy had been taken away by a man with silver hair. "There is someone I am after but I doubt I could take him out anyway. I will fly with you all. That will be the best course of action." Creno said.

Creno sat with the survivors in the gunships a few moments later. He knew they were vulnerable to attack, but it could not be helped. They would have to fly at best speed towards West City and hope for the best. There were simply far too many numbers of the gargoyle-like creatures to take them all down. The big guy that sacrificed himself proved that. A part of him had wanted to help the big guy, but he knew he was still far too weak and that realization made him consider his place in the world. He was a Soldier, but he was still too low class in the ranks. He would never be First at that rate.

The message he had intercepted was likely not meant for his mind to have received at all. But either way, West City was as good a spot to rally as any. So many lives lost...for nothing. What the hell was responsible for all of this? Who could do something like this? There were too many questions and not enough answers. Only more questions. Creno felt the gunship's large structure around his body as they flew towards West City. There were five of the ships all together bearing The Soldier marks. More importantly, they were carrying what few survivors Creno, Goku, Picollo, and the others could save.

It was an impressive amount of civi's all things considered. The casualty rate had been terribly high. Creno remembered the words that the entity Master had spoken earlier. Master seemed to be the one behind this whole mess, but, Creno did not have the power level to bring Master down. All he could do was save the innocent people who were simply caught in the cross fire. Creno hated feeling so helpless. He turned towards a nearby window and took a look back towards what was left of North City.

Burning buildings, ash, and fire. "Damn. The damage looks horrible from up here." Creno said to nobody in particular.

Cruz walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't anything that could have stopped it. There was no proper security against such an army. Even if all of Soldier was mobilized, I doubt it would have made a single difference in the long-run and we have lost many good members." Cruz said.

Creno nodded. "If only...I wasn't so weak." Creno said. And somewhere through all the intense fighting, something inside of Creno Valour had changed. Creno clenched his fists tightly and made a promise to himself. I swear. One day I will grow powerful. No matter what the cost. I will grow powerful so that the tragedy that occurred here today, will never occur again. And I can protect that which matters the most. He swore to that, and then he considered what his Father might say to that. I am sorry Father. But I must walk my own path. And I have decided on the path of strength. Creno thought to himself.

Then, an agent walked over to Instructor Cruz. "Boss." He said. "We're approaching West City."

"Begin landing procedures in a safe location." Cruz responded. "Make sure to have Med-Teams ready to heal the injured." Cruz added.

"Of course." The Agent said and went back to his duty.

Creno admired that about the lower-ranks. Some were so devoted to duty that they barely had time for much else. They didn't care about Soldier politics or ranks or any of that garbage. But, Creno did care. Creno wanted to be the greatest Soldier of all. Greater than Instructor Cruz, or any of The Firsts that stood in his way to glory.

***

Once the gunships had landed, the civilians had made their way to the medical tents. There, the few survivors were given urgent medical treatment. Creno did not allow anybody to heal his injuries he had sustained during fighting. He was a Saiyan through and through, he would heal quietly on his own. The Soldiers were surrounding the civilians but Creno had already made up his mind. He needed to go back to his training and he would do so immediately. Cruz walked over towards Creno.

"Something troubling you, Creno?" Cruz asked.

"I must become stronger." Creno said and looked at Cruz with a very serious expression. She was not a Saiyan, The Humans did not know or understand Saiyan mentality.

They were the fighting tribe, and a loss of that caliber, experienced that day in North City, was simply not acceptable.

Creno Word Count=1,227
Creno TOTAL Word Count=3,434

As the long haired man kicked off across the sky, Vegeta's face once more twisted into a grim scowl. Something about the man in this new arrival's arms, the man who was eternally just outside of his grasp, was allowing him to escape once more. He had spent the entirety of his time on Earth pursuing the Saiyan now known as 'Son Goku'; he had killed, he had lied and butchered for the man who was now being escorted away by a warrior he had never seen before. He would not allow it to happen again.

Once more, purple energy rose to life around his body, sending jets of ash and soot into the air at his sides. He would not stand to be stopped by someone so petty as an Earthling; or at least, that was probably what the creature was. While Vegeta would have liked to simply lump him in with the lot, something about the absence of energy around him was perturbing enough to provoke his prudence. Growling as he rose into the air, the Saiyan Prince locked onto the swiftly moving pair in the distance.

He was already a little ways behind them, but something told him he'd be able to catch up without much trouble. He had never been outraced by a human being, nor had he been outraced in his various misadventures among the stars. The light flickered on and off around him like a violet oil lamp as he took off across the sky, his energy once more illuminating the scorched Earth below him. His cape was whipping firmly against the back of his armor, creating a sickening crack for every second he remained sky borne.

Now that he was so close, he would not allow his opponent to succeed. There was no room for failure in his Father's empire, and he had already experienced enough of it while scrounging around the hellaciously tedious cities of Earth. Always the same cries for mercy, the same pleas; Vegeta cared not for riches or women. He had enough of both waiting for him back home, if he could only retrieve the Saiyan Warrior who was now flying through the sky ahead of him.

As he followed in the wake of the silver haired fighter, his mind raced. He was remembering the incredible surge of power from earlier, likely a result of Kakarot's strength. The signal had been undoubtedly Saiyan; no human's strength had ever felt so immense to his finely tuned senses. He had seen many a man in his travels, but few were so impressive. Even fewer were found unconscious after emitting such a strong surge of power.

However, Son Goku-- no, Kakarot, was breaking a majority of the molds he had set. He was proving himself more interesting by the moment, and equally infuriating. What type of warrior allowed himself to be captured so easily? What type of warrior allowed himself to be brought before a false god? For that was clearly what was forcing his wrath upon the pitiful inhabitants of planet Earth. He knew better than anyone the consequence of power struggles upon a population.

The man, 'Master' as he was so titled, was clearly vying for power against whoever that other huge power level in the distance was. While Vegeta couldn't quite discern it's origin, the Prince had a hint of who it was. Upon his entry to Earth, he had detected another massive power level, which seemed to feel the same. He had felt it in the back of his mind since his arrival, waiting there as if waiting for provocation; a son of perdition.

Suddenly, just moments after the silver haired man had come to a halt atop an obsidian tower, Kakarot's signature vanished. His eyes narrowed as he waited, body coming to a quick stop as he tried to ascertain the situation. The other massive power level had landed right next to the warrior he couldn't sense and the man who had titled himself 'Master'. He took a moment, sweat dripping from his brow as he considered the position before him.

Kakarot's strength had been immense, that was true; however, now it was gone entirely. Was it possible that his quarry had been done away with by the two titans who now stood atop the tower? Swallowing a growing ball of Saliva in his throat, Vegeta watched as a body was cast off the side of the tower, falling through snow and raining ash as it's descent began. He recognized the shape; a musculature unmatched by humanity.

Immediately, he knew what he had to do. Even if the man was dead, the body could be brought back to his home planet as proof of his success. Energy exploded around him once more as he swerved in mid air, diverting himself toward the fallen warrior who was tumbling toward the lava, his body reminiscent of a string-less puppet. He had seen it before, the lack of consciousness associated with a firm pounding.

However, it was evident that the warrior was still alive. Strands of red-gold light seemed to seep from his every pore as he tumbled ever downward, illuminating him clearly, even from a distance. That immense power was still laying dormant inside the man, whose face looked far too gentle for his kind.

As Vegeta swooped low to catch his prey and continue beyond the clashing of titans in the sky above, he glanced down at his prey with the look of a hunter victorious. He now had Kakarot, Son Goku, the Earth's Champion in his hands; and only one questioned remained inside of his head.

”Now what?”

WC: 941
TWC: 1,782

Blackness had consumed everything, and Ruurik found himself floating helplessly in it. This was a void between between the conscious and unconsciousness, between life and death. There was nothing here no light, no matter, no energy; there was only Ruurik curled in a ball trying to escape the omnipresent darkness. Despite all the evidence to the contrary Ruurik could feel something else in this void, it wasn't anything he could explain tangibly, it just was. It pierced deep into his mind and was unlike anything he'd ever felt, his whole head ached and he screamed in pain but no sound came out. A voice ripped through his mind, at first Ruurik couldn't understand what was being said. Not because it was foreign words or because he was being screamed at, it was because the voice was so vast it was like trying to see a tidal wave while you were already swept up inside of it. Only after it was finished speaking did Ruurik understand what had been said, as if he was merely catching the echo that was still bouncing around within his head.

This presence mocked Ruurik's resistance and demanded a show of his obedience. It wanted him to give up, to give in, to just allow the darkness to consume him and plunge into oblivion. For a moment Ruurik seriously contemplated it, no more of anything no more pain, no more fear and no more memory, like a never ending bloodsong. Ruurik was so tired of this galaxy, there was nothing but pain here nothing but fear, even if he did manage to free Orco there was always the chance that someone could come along and take it all again. So maybe this path would be easier, just give up allow the darkness to win and cleanse this horrid universe of the anomaly that is life. Suddenly Ruurik's body began to shake as if the energy within was vibrating and bursting to get out. Suddenly his mind was filled with memories, the taste of a freshly picked furen, the rigors of his first day of combat training, the smell of the sea, the feel of kissing Suria as their head tentacles wrapped together.

"I WILL NOT BOW", Ruurik yelled into the soundless void his aura flaring dramatically in the darkness as he uncurled himself. Despite all the darkness there was too much that would be missed for Ruurik to just give in no matter the odds. Suddenly everything was different, Ruurik could feel the hard ground beneath him, the feeling of energy flowing into him as his body was miraculously healed. All that had come before Trying to open his eyes Ruurik found himself unable too, he was too weak but he felt his energy returning due to the aid of some unknown entity. Suddenly he coughed, ash and stony fragments of the gargoyles pushing themselves away from his face, followed by a sharp ragged intake of breath. Ruurik's eyes fluttered open and he tried to get up his arms were shaky at first but then he felt his full strength return and was able to get up with little issue. Ruurik looked around trying to spot whoever it was that had helped them he saw no one though.

He felt little amongst the city now, some of the shards that came from the gargoyle's bodies still held some of the hungry energy that they had held in life, not enough to be of any sort of threat as far as Ruurik could tell though. Ruurik tried to sense where everyone who had gone. He sensed several moderate power levels with many minute ones heading rapidly to the west, he assumed they were the people who had arrived to evacuate the civilians. Ruurik also felt several power signatures closing in on something, it felt like another hoard of gargoyles but something was different. Ruurik's head tentacles quivered slightly as he realized that this mass of dark hungry energy was coming from a single entity. Not only that but the energy being produced was several levels higher then the entire hoard combined, it was also felt the same as the massive voice that had commanded him to bow before.

Ruurik knew he was less likely to be helpful in this fight then he had been in the fight against the horde. Ruurik contemplated fleeing this city, this world and trying to find refuge somewhere amongst the stars. It was a foolish thought though, if whatever it was that had created that energy wasn't stopped here it would wash out into the galaxy and extinguish all light. Without a second thought Ruurik rushed towards the place where he'd sensed the power at top speed. There were several relatively high power levels and one impossibly high one but Ruurik wasn't sure if even their combined might would match up to who, or whatever was emanating that dark energy.

The dark tower surrounded molten earth at the base definitely gave a sense of foreboding, Ruurik flew up the tower, skimming just above the rock of the tower. Reaching the top Ruurik landed on the platform seeing three people at this place, a golden entity with power that was far greater then Ruurik had ever thought was possible for mortal beings. There was one with golden eyes, the hunger of the void radiated from him but this person had been a mortal once, even if he was no more. This gold eyed one was just a meat suit for the darkness that was dwelling within him, Ruurik wondered if the same thing would've happened to him if he'd submitted to the darkness. The darkness seemed to have complete control of this body, Ruurik wondered if it had wiped out the person who had formerly dwelt within it when it had taken over or if that poor soul was still trapped somewhere within a prisoner within his own body.

The final occupant of the tower was strange, Ruurik could sense absolutely nothing from him. Ruurik didn't know what that meant but i made this person an unknown entity in the coming fight. Three signatures were rapidly retreating from this field of combat though, one of which was very faint. Ruurik wondered if they were running or merely trying to get whoever was fading to safety, Ruurik couldn't be sure. Ruurik fixed his eyes on the other inhabitants of the tower, he didn't know what was going to happen here but it seemed pretty obvious that the fate of the galaxy was hanging in the balance. Everything there ever was now balanced on the edge of a knife the only question is which way it would all go.

WC: 1,114
TWC: 5,239

Thus the curtain closes on the Battle for North City. However, new battles await...