The Unknown (Part 2)

by Broly 8/19/2012, 1:08 am

Beyond the confines of the gigantic metal doorway, was a large and elaborate antechamber. There were glowing buttons and lights on each wall, dotting the otherwise bland décor. It was obvious that whoever had designed the place had not designed it with comfort in mind. There didn't appear to be any sort of furniture or anything other than some strange console and screen, which hung in the center of the room as if it were there to watch those who would risk gazing into it. As it happened, Broly was more than willing to stride directly up to it as his underlings investigated the rest of the room.

For a few tense moments, the screen remained a sleek, jet black. Broly had been just about to turn away when it flickered to life, ignited by some internal force. It started with a wave of white, which washed over the screen before filling it with the portrait of a single man. He appeared to be in the sunset of his days, a long and twisted beard falling over a stained lab coat. His head was wrinkled and spotted, dotted by age and time. Judging by the dullness in his eyes, he had been alive far too long for his liking.

As a merciful man, Broly knew that he would put him out of his misery. Of course, that meant that he'd have to find him first. He had no idea where the man could have been. Presumably, he was somewhere deep within the laboratory, hiding himself away from the fears he carried. He had probably noticed Broly coming from the quakes and tremors he'd created on his way here. It wouldn't have been very shocking, truth be told. It wasn't as if Broly felt a need to hide himself. He had nothing to be ashamed of that this man could reveal.

His dry lips began to crack apart, as the old man spoke. His voice sounded as though he had been without water for years, as if the only thing keeping him hydrated was the blood rushing through his veins. Broly's eyes locked onto the elder man's, his own soulless pits of blackness glaring deeply into what may as well have been two twin pools of ice. He could feel a certain coolness about him, as if the man were projecting his uncertainty within instead of without. He would shatter that facade in the same manner he had ripped through the door outside.

“So, you've made it inside my fortress, have you? My, my; can't say I'm very surprised. You've got a knack for ruining people's plans. I don't suppose I could just talk you into leaving, y'know? Give you a nice and pleasant stipend to simply walk out now, and leave my lab and I alone? It's not as though we're harming anyone, here. We're simply vying for the same thing that humanity has always been pawing at. Can you honestly blame me, young man? Would you do me the kindness of leaving in peace?”

His voice sounded serene, as if he'd been practicing the speech in his sleep for the entirety of his life. It was highly unfortunate for him that Broly did not quite believe in leaving a job unfinished; perhaps he would have left the place alone if the old man hadn't been there. Perhaps he wouldn't have had the anger festering inside of him from the second the man had implied that Broly might even consider it. His fists clenched tightly at his hips as he glared at the screen above his head, boring deeply into what he hoped was his new found opponent's soul.

”You mistake me for someone who cares, old man. I have not come here to hear your pleas for safety, or to hear you explain away your lifetime full of sins. I've come in order to test the strength you have created, I've come in order to rip you and everything you've ever cared for asunder. I've been in need of a challenge for far too long, and tearing you and your little dolls apart will grant me that which I desire. You'll either send them to greet me, or I'll send you to your grave in this mountain.”

Several seconds passed before any visible reaction was discernible; the old man was clearly doing his damnedest to avoid showing fear at the thought of big bad Broly coming for a visit. Had Broly not been a master of picking out the scent of dread and worry in others, he wouldn't have noticed the slight slumping of the shoulders, or the shake in his breath. Unfortunately for the old codger, he'd been in the game too long to miss such telltale signs of foreboding. He was more worried about Broly's coming than he was letting on.

“Very well, Broly. If you really seek conflict that much, I'll grant you your wish. Expect my children up within ten minutes. If they're not up there by then, I'll come up to greet you myself. In fact, I may end up doing that anyway. You'll be the perfect test subject, actually. If they can defeat you, certainly Son Goku won't be too much trouble.”, his words were accompanied by a strange grin, suggesting he knew more than he was letting on. What was it within him that prompted such deceit? Was he incapable of anything else? Being straightforward couldn't have been as difficult as he made it seem.

”I don't care about any Goku. I want to crush your little porcelain playthings! Send them up, old man! Send them fast!”, he snarled and growled, shouting aggressively at the screen. He knew that the old bastard would hold fast to his word; what else did he have to go by? What other chances could he have possibly had for survival? While the screen flickered to black, Broly's eyes turned to the only other door in the vicinity. It was far smaller than the first; human sized and made of wood. It appeared that his welcoming party would be arriving from there.

”Boy, girl. Stand back. When they come up, I want to deal with them myself. If you interfere? I will kill you.”, his words hissed from between his teeth as he stepped forward, arms crossing while he prepared to wait. Both youths moved toward the door Broly had broken through to enter the lab, eyes traveling along the walls and walls of equipment as they moved. Something told him that if he were to listen in on their hushed discussion, he would pick up voices of dissent. Still, it didn't matter to him.

He waited for what must have been a short eternity. When the wooden door creaked open, his right fist had been cocked into the air, preparing to smash downward at the blue flooring below it. His eyes danced upward swiftly, hastening to their target, his target. If the synthetic warriors had arrived, he waned to size them up before leaping in. It wasn't a matter of doubt; it was a matter of interest. Broly, because of his might, often had room to judge a book by it's cover. If they looked weak, the odds stood that they would be weak.

Shadows dissipated quickly from the room behind them as the light from the main laboratory flooded into it. Illuminated were two figures that appeared to be from some mythical military, adorned in tight fitting metal body armor. Undoubtedly, it was made of the same material that the doorway had been made of. Each possessed a pale face and short brown hair, which seemed to hang playfully before their eyes.

Broly's fist hung in the air for a fraction of a second before dropping back to his stomach. He hadn't ever seen a get up like that before; the body armor was far too ornately carved and useless looking. It left the arms completely exposed to burns and scratches and scathes, not to mention the lack of head protection. It was as if he was wanting his little dolls to get all banged up by the might that was the Legendary Super Saiyan; was that it? Was he begging for them to be battle tested?

Energy burst into existence around his feet, circling his body in strange, whip-like strings of filament. A bead of sweat ran down Kale's brow as that dreadful smile emerged on Broly's features, his face full of what appeared to be anticipation. While it was true that Broly often looked forward to what promised to be an interesting battle, the expression on his face seemed far too dangerous to be glee. If it were some form of happiness, no one could have doubted that it was entirely unique to his people.

The whip-like strings of ki slowly kicked to life around him in the form of a torrential burst, rising sharply into the air as Broly's power climbed. He wasn't ascending to his transformed state, but he was powering up for the battle. That showed his piqued interest; however, it also displayed his expectations for his opponents. If they couldn't match his strength without his transformation, how would they be able to keep up with him for very long? It was a sad fact that few men were able to comprehend the power he was capable of putting out; he wouldn't doubt it if he had to count this scientist among them.

As the rest of the lab darkened because of the light put off by Broly's energy, the Saiyan stood stock still. His muscle mass had increased, and his blood was pumping freely throughout his veins. He was ready for battle; there was nothing else to be said about it. However, as the two Androids simply stood there in reaction, it appeared that they were all too at ease. Was that supposed to mean that they weren't impressed by Broly's strength? Were their battle powers higher than his own?

For several tense moments, they seemed to scan the warrior before them. Their battle powers, without unlocking their internal fail safes, were just below the man's base level. While it was clear to them that they could not take him without unleashing their inner power. Admittedly, it was far larger than anything they had stored in their databanks. They were supposed to be as powerful as Doctor Gero's original Androids; the pair of twin dynamos, Seventeen and Eighteen. However, the power readings for each model had been lost. They had no idea how they compared to their original models.

As chilly mountain air worked it's way into the chamber, the true battle was only just now heating up.

WC: 1,781