Fate and Finality

He touched down on soft grass, followed by the cloak of death itself. As his boots planted themselves firmly in the soil, the world around him seemed to melt away. One moment, he lingered outside of District 4, the Land of Korin, and the next he was back in the infirmary. Cries rang out through the air, a single infant screaming in the dark of night for his mother's touch. The dull glint of surgical tools came to his eye, while everything slowly blurred over; one moment his vision had been sharp, and the next it had been clouded over by rage unparalleled.

The baby continued to scream as he drifted back into reality, his gaze coming back in to focus on the doorway before him. He had landed just outside of the man's home; he would need to thank the insect later, should his information prove accurate. Something within him told him that it would be. Energy continued to well up in his fists, which were cocked at his side. The grass beneath his feet slowly shifted from a healthy green to a ghastly black, one reminiscent of ash. For a moment, he pondered doing the conventional thing, and knocking.

Yet, that was not fitting for this scenario. Nothing about this felt fitting. The birds flew through the air all around him, chasing each other in dog-fight like spirals and dives, as the river flowed gently in the distance. He had been here before, in a brief bout with the boy named 'Crono'. He had emerged victorious in that bout, for the most part. The boy hadn't been a pushover, but he now paled in comparison to the strength Broly had to offer. Had they met again, there would have been no doubt in his mind as to who the victor would've been. But this opponent was far more powerful than the playful child he'd met in the woods.

The woodland itself had changed. No longer was there a massive forest to explore; there stood a sea of grass in its place. Now, as he strode forward, the grass beneath his feet continued to wilt, his unbound energy unleashing itself against the world around him. He had never been one to conceal his energy; nor did he honestly have a need to. He was the pinnacle of Saiyan Evolution, the highest predator on the food chain. He was a Super Saiyan, he was the single strongest thing in existence. For years, his drive had been the urge to prove himself as valid.

Founded on the insanity that fueled him, he had longed for a chance for true, legitimate relief. His rage had always been there, hanging over his mind like some grim reminder of a life that could have been, the life that should have been. He should have been a hero; he should have been the warrior his disgusting people truly deserved. Instead, he'd been scarred and scared; he'd been traumatized before he had a true chance to defend himself. He had been flooded with flash-like bursts of pain and suffering from the mouth of a single infant.

Now, as that scream filled his mind, Broly closed his eyes. There it was, in his head. The warrior from the tower, the warrior who had caused an entire lifetime's worth of suffering. He was Kakarot, the one humans were so dead-set on calling Son Goku. Though he could not blame the man for casting aside his heritage so readily, that was not the part of this entire thing that bothered him. His fists clenched tightly at his waist, sending convulsions of emerald-like energy shooting out into the air from his knuckles and wrist. The mere thought of his life-long target was already influencing him.

The thin veil of sanity that covered him so tightly was now beginning to rupture and tear, ripping away at all he had considered to be true. In the back of his mind, he knew it was wrong; he knew, somewhere, that it was wrong to feel such a powerful blood lust. But this was what he had spent his life striving for, this was what he had been aching for his entire fucking life. This was absolution at his fingertips, validity right before him, if he could only grasp it. Kakarot was the reason for his suffering, he was the foundation of all of the death and displeasure he had ever experienced.

As his eyes fluttered open, he remembered watching the man's body go careening off of the tower, like a puppet with his strings cut. That had not been the end of him; no, he had sensed the threads of life still swinging somewhere within. The end of Son Goku's tale had not yet been reached... But neither had Broly's. Small drops of blood fell from between his knuckles as he stepped forward toward the mass of energy that constituted Son Goku's location. He had landed a short distance from the man, in the once-woodlands of the Land of Korin.

Seas of blurry green and a sky of blue filled his vision as his head jerked back convulsively, his jaw opening with a strange slowness. For a moment, he did little but risk a breath; what would happen when he came face to face with the object of his strange and bloody desire? Would he rip the man to shreds in a fit of bloody mania? Or would he keep what little control he still maintained?

”KAKARO-OT!”

WC: 915

The first breath that Goku had taken had been the strangest he had ever taken. To be reborn again was a strange sensation. It was as if waking up from a strange terrible dream. He could literally feel his heart kicking into motion, thundering inside of his chest. The blood in his veins began to flow from a still, rushing like fire down the length of his limbs, into his fingers and toes.

He sat up, dizzy. The entire wasteland spun around him. No, it wasn't a wasteland. It was a scar, a vicious wound on the Earth. He was lying in the spot that he had been laid during the end. Where Cell had stood over his broken body, as a conqueror.

However, conquering Goku would soon prove to have been a mistake. He was back and far stronger than he had been previously. The entire time he spent in Other World felt like a faded dream now. It was hard to recall, especially the beginning of his journey. In the end, he had trained with the Grand Kai. The old god had given him a chance to make a difference, to fight once again.

This time, he would not fail. Couldn't fail. There weren't supposed to be second chances. Yeah, maybe the dragon balls could bring him back, but he didn't want to bank on that. From what he understood, he was Saiyan, apart of a proud race of warriors. Warrior that were terrorizing the galaxy along with the Changelings, vicious tyrants who thought the could buy and sell lives of others.

He wasn't going to allow them to hurt anyone. No matter how powerful they were, he would show them that life had a champion.

Examining his body, he noticed that he was wearing nothing more than tattered bloodied gi pants. Apparently that was all Cell had left of. The rest of his body was restored a new. He didn't even have a single scar. His flesh felt soft and smooth. The thick calluses that once lined his hands and feet were gone as well.

The vertigo ended after a long while, as he centered himself and took in his surroundings. Reaching out with his spiritual energy, he touched the energies of his allies, friends and family and breathed a sigh of relief. None of them were dead. One particular signature surprised him. It was a bit different. Master Roshi, he was back as well. The foggy memory of Other World came rushing back. He had learned that his Master returned.

Goku would have to ask him how he had escaped the clutches of death. They had most likely taken very different paths.

Floating off of the ground, Goku rushed forth into the sky, the puffy white clouds parting with his passing. He knew the first being he would go to see, and that was Korin. The cat hermit always was a great purveyor of information.


“There you go Goku, good as new,” Korin said and waved his staff.

Goku's gi appeared on his frame and he smoothed it over with the palms of his hand. “Thanks Korin!”

“Here, I only have one right now. Take this Senzu Bean. Fighting this Cell monster is not going to be an easy task,” Korin said and handed Goku a small pouch.

Goku tied it to his obi. “Yeah, I might need it.”

A great power suddenly hit him like a bolt of lightning. Goku nearly stumbled back from the sense of it. Was it Cell? He had no idea. It was possible. Before, he had felt nothing from Cell. However, if the android had somehow absorbed one of the others, it was quite possible he didn't feel like he had to hid anymore.

Both of his fists balled tight. He had been hoping for more time, maybe to see his wife and kids. But, it was better this way. If he faced Cell now, he wouldn't break their hearts twice. It was the moment he trained for, the moment of reckoning.

Jumping from the tower, Goku let himself free fall. The sky rushed past him, the cold air stung his eyes. The only sound he heard was the flapping of loose fold of his newly restored gi. The tattered forest came into view quickly and he angled his arms back and put his feet together, dropping like a missile. He chose a small clearing between the a few newly restored trees and spun around, gliding down gently, using a cushion of ki to control his landing. When both of his boots finally touched down, he barely stirred a blade of grass.

A figure moved towards him, walking with determination. However, this was no android, nor was it a monster. It was a man. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a power to rival if not surpass Goku's own. He was not a human, that was clearly evident. This was the first Saiyan, other than his own reflection, that Goku had gazed upo Having spent his entire life with humans, Goku could see now why he had been able to fit in. They weren't too far off. But, there was so much about this fighter that reminded Goku of himself.

“Kakorot!”

Goku had no idea what it meant. Was it a greeting? No, by the look on this fighter's face, and the blood dripping from his fists, he was not here to exchange pleasantries.

Both of his eyebrows narrowed. “I'm Son Goku. How can I help you?”

The words were polite, but Goku's half-stance indicated he was ready at any moment for a fight to erupt.

WC: 939