Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Illumination ❯ Interlude: Downpour ( Chapter 9 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z belongs to Akira Toriyama and numerous other companies. This fanfic is only for fun, no monies are being made.

-+-

That whole poisoned-by-a-biochemical-attack-and-almost-died episode had put more hurt on Trunks than he realized. After dealing with the mess Armada brought back with her and going back to bed, he slept until late morning. He never really slept this much, even after the androids and Cell were gone and he had nothing to worry about back home. The only explanation was that while he felt fine, he was still recovering.

He didn't spend much time getting up and getting breakfast before he started checking things out around the ship. He could sense Armada was down in the cargo bay, so clearly she hadn't run off yet, but he still expected her to. He took a quick look outside the ship in the hangar at the car, it was now parked properly and totally cleaned out. It smelled almost like it was new, and yet he knew it wasn't. The infirmary was cleaned up as well, and everything smelled like disinfectant. Trunks had slept for six hours after that whole debacle, and while part of him wasn't shocked to see everything taken care of already, he was still a bit disturbed by it. When he left her, she had lost a lot of blood and was drunk. In six hours she had accomplished all of this?

Noting that the infirmary was still empty for supplies save the one box of artificial blood he'd brought up from the cargo bay, Trunks figured their first job today would be to resupply the ship properly. Which required talking to Armada. Which he wasn't particularly keen on at the moment, since he figured she was still mad about that punch. She clearly wasn't the type to let things like that go easily.

Trunks jumped down the ladder into the cargo bay, and saw Armada leaned over and focused intensely on something at a machine near the workbench in the back. From where he stood all he could see was her back. He walked over, and took note of her condition. Her ki felt even and stable, though suppressed as his always was. She had bandages wrapped around her abdomen covering the length of the slash that he had helped her stitch up earlier this morning. He wasn't sure where she'd found bandages, but then again he had no idea what was in the crates stocked in the belly of the ship.

As Trunks approached, the machine stopped momentarily and Armada moved something. When he got around the side to see what she was doing, it suddenly became clear. She was sitting at what looked like a highly sophisticated version of a sewing machine. She had a set of goggles on, and used a foot pedal to make the needle move on the black fabric she was holding underneath it. Without taking her attention from her task, she spoke over the noise of the machine. "What?" she said tersely.

"What are you doing?" Trunks couldn't help but ask. Really, a sewing machine? It couldn't be as simple as it appeared.

"Repairing my armor," she answered automatically. "I have to reattach the individual threads to restore the fabric's integrity." Surprisingly, she didn't sound too angry. Well, at least for the moment.

"Wow," Trunks said without thinking as he watched. Recreating the individual threads then reforming them in their proper weaving? It was a little intense to watch. No wonder she needed the goggles.

Armada pushed her right foot down slightly and ran the machine for a few seconds before she stopped. She sat up and pushed the goggles back and on top of her head before turning to look at her fellow mercenary.

"I've got a list of supplies I need you to go get, so we can restock everything I had to throw out," she said rather plainly. If she was still angry, she was doing a good job of hiding it, or at least Trunks thought so. Before Trunks could respond in the affirmative, she continued. "There's a tablet sitting on the table in the lounge, it has everything you need to get and where to go pick it up."

Trunks nodded as she turned away from him, looking back at her work. He was about to walk away when he saw a long black rod sitting nearby on the floor, leaning against the workbench. He took two steps to clear the distance between him and the black rod, and asked as he picked it up, "Hey, is this a shock rod?"

"Yes," Armada replied, turning her gaze to him once more.

The handle looked different than the ones he had seen; it had a very pale yellow hexagon pattern around the it, far different than the black metal of the rest of the rod. As soon as Trunks wrapped his right hand around that handle, he felt a strange sensation. It was almost like the shock rod was very slowly pulling his energy out through his hand, where he held on to it.. Curious, he attempted to charge a small amount of energy in his hand, which he immediately felt swept out by the rod. The other end jolted with eletricity, enough that it crackled in the air and a tendril shot out and hit the ceiling of the cargo bay, leaving a black mark.

"Kami!" Trunks almost jumped back at the burst of electricity; he didn't think he'd fed it that much energy.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Armada shouted at him as she stood and yanked the shock rod from his hands, giving him an angry glare.

"I'm sorry," Trunks almost stammered out, feeling rather embarrassed.

Armada stepped away from him and set the shock rod down on her workbench. She paused a moment, her shoulders slumping as she let out a deep sigh. She turned and looked at Trunks with an irritated gaze briefly before she spoke. "It's an augmented shock rod, not the standard you've seen. If someone like you or I is holding it, you can push your energy into it and directly power the electrical nodes at the end, which makes it a hell of a lot more dangerous in the right hands," she finished with an irritated glare.

"Where'd you get that?" Trunks asked; he was certain he would have seen it before now.

"I don't know," she answered, still glaring at him, "where'd you get the ID and the watch?"

Trunks's eyes widened slightly and he was stunned into silence. She knew about that? No, of course she does, he thought. She had scoured the ship to clean everything after he got sick from that damn package, so she would have found it. He never bothered to check since he got back yesterday, so it didn't occur to him.

Before he had a chance to say anything, she fixed him with one last glare. "Get out," she said and stepped around him to seat herself at back at the high-tech version of a sewing machine and slid her goggles back down over her eyes. The machine hummed to life again, and she continued her work, ignoring him.

Trunks turned his gaze away, his eyes falling to the side. Now doubly embarrassed, he felt he had nothing else to say. She'd already given him her 'orders,' all he had to do was execute. So he left the cargo bay, grabbed the tablet, and shortly after that left the hangar. Might as well do something useful.

-+-

I stand alone for all to see,
'Cause they ain't never seen a war like me

-+-

Illumination

Interlude: Downpour

-+-

By late afternoon, Trunks returned to the hangar and parked the car just inside the building's doors. Armada had quite a list of things to get, but luckily for him they all fit either within the car or the trunk. He brought everything into the ship, and they both sorted and stocked everything properly. With the infirmary's cabinets full to the threat of exploding, Trunks felt a significant sense of relief. So far, they needed that room more than he would have liked.

When that work was finished, Trunks ate a late lunch in the lounge and watched the local news. A huge thunderstorm was due to hit Ute tonight—no surprise since it was that time of year, or so the broadcast indicated. It was a splinter storm from a typhoon hitting on the eastern shores of the continent Ute was located on. Since returning, he mainly focused on the tasks at hand, but he kept an eye on Armada. She'd said nothing to him outside of simple commands or replies to questions on where to put things. She was quiet, but this was a different level of quiet from her. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he intended to find out.

The rest of the evening passed without incident, and when it was time for dinner, Armada cooked. It wasn't that strange for her to do so, but he'd done more of the cooking since his stay began than she did. Even stranger than that, she made tea for the two of them, and they sat together in the lounge and ate.

“You have to be careful,” Armada suddenly spoke and Trunks turned his gaze up to her mid-bite.

After taking a moment to swallow so his mouth wasn't full of food—he still remembered a slap from his mother across the face as a teenager, and the memory of that stung more than punches from the androids did—he finally responded. “What?”

She didn't look at him, but kept her gaze fixed on her food. “There's a lot of things about this world, about the universe, that you don't know. You can't just fumble through and expect to get out unharmed.”

Trunks stared at her for a moment and his face settled into a look of concern. What was this about? This was not the Armada he knew. She sounded like she was giving him a lecture... as if she wouldn't be able to give him this advice later on. “And what's prompting this conversation?” he asked, not having the patience to beat around the bush.

She turned and fixed him with a stare that he couldn't place. “Someone says they have a package for you that you are not expecting and you sign for it? You feel a device manipulating your energy so you release it? Do I need to continue?” she asked. Something was different, she didn't seem angry, or any variation of angry, which was what Trunks had pretty much been presented with from her since they met. He couldn't place it.

But her words pissed him off, so he focused on that. “And I'm supposed to take advice on how to care for myself from the woman who has said repeatedly that she doesn't give a shit about anything?” he asked tersely, his anger starting to show through. She was calling him careless? She was the one showing up at all hours of the night bloody and beaten, requiring hishelp to piece herself back together. And he didn't exactly forget that in her haste last night, she'd referred to him as her merchandise. He was in no mood to put up with more of her derision and insults.

Armada's face tightened, and Trunks thought she was going to say something, but instead she got up from her seat and walked into the galley, taking her plate with her. He watched her walk out but said nothing. So much for figuring out what she was up to. He dismissed the thought and focused on finishing his meal.

Shortly after he was done eating and had cleaned up the galley, Trunks felt very tired. Figuring he was still exhausted from recovering from... whatever that poison was, he couldn't remember, he went to his room to rest.

He failed to notice that during their meal, Armada never took a sip of her tea.

-+-

A young man that looked to be about Trunks's height and build, though maybe a little slimmer around the hips, stood under an awning and sighed. He flexed the muscles across his shoulders and rolled his neck, trying to loosen up a bit. He had arrived in Temelt-Ran yesterday, just as the city was going haywire over a typhoon warning. Everyone had been ordered to evacuate, including the hotel he was staying in and its staff. But Corvus wouldn't evacuate; he didn't need to. Besides, he had a job to do, and if Ryan knew he'd taken the first day off upon arrival to rest, he'd have been pissed.

Corvus ran a hand through his short white hair and cleared his throat. He stretched again and yawned. He almost couldn't believe how much his muscles ached from the long trip on that cramped shuttle. Why'd he have to take a public shuttle anyway? He was going to complain when he got back to base; he was important enough to get his own private shuttle at this point. Especially for trips halfway across the damn universe. Which brought another problem: Corvus was wide awake and it was just after midnight. Bmyhad's day and night were reversed from where he spent most of his time. He was in a deserted city, at night, in the middle of a serious storm.

Despite all that, Corvus still stood under the front awning of his hotel as the rain absolutely poured around him. Thunder chimed in, and he reached inside his blue suit jacket with his right hand for his cigarettes. Just then, his phone rang out, so he diverted his right hand to the outside right pocket of his jacket for his phone. When he looked at the number dialing his, he shook his head with a quiet “Finally,” added under his breath.

He flipped the phone open and immediately started talking. “Grelb, goddamnit, what took you so long to call? I thought they told you I was getting into town yesterday? Well, whatever, when are you gonna meet me here?”

There was a pause on the line for a moment before someone spoke. “Grelb's not coming,” a woman responded and the call was immediately terminated. Corvus spun around, and just as he turned he saw a woman step out of the shadows and throw an object at him. He reached out with his left hand and caught it easily.

Corvus turned the object over and realized it was a phone, just like his... except this one had dried blood smeared on the outside of it. Corvus looked up at the woman and glared; he knew exactly what was going on.

“Grelb wasn't much of anything besides a little shit, but I still expected him to keep a better eye out on everything going on over here,” Corvus said as he put away his comrade's phone into the same pocket as his own. “Then again,” Corvus continued, much calmer than before, “I shouldn't be surprised considering what you did that started this whole mess.”

Armada stood only a meter away from Corvus, wearing her armor with her hair tied back into a braid, except her bangs. She said nothing as she looked at the man sent to kill her; he was a hair taller than Trunks, although a little leaner. He had short white hair that was spiked up, and green eyes that almost glowed in the dark. She didn't know his name, but she knew he was one of Rieve's more powerful assassins sent to end her quarrel with the group.

Corvus went ahead and pulled out his cigarette case from the inside pocket of his jacket. He quickly took one cigarette out and stuck it between his lips as he put the case away. He looked to Armada briefly and asked, “Mind if I have a smoke? I was gonna have one while waiting for Grelb to pick me up, but obviously that isn't gonna happen.” Armada said nothing and didn't move, so Corvus shrugged and lifted his right hand to the tip of the cigarette. Using his ki, he created a small ball of energy to light his cigarette and then let it dissipate as soon as the end caught fire.

He took a long drag on his cigarette before addressing his target once more. “I'm Corvus, nice to meet you Armada,” he started. “I'm sure you know why I'm here, so we can skip that part,” he continued. “Besides,” he said, taking another deep breath, “we already got your money, so there's just one thing left to take.”

Armada waited patiently. She knew he was trying to drag this out, to try and catch her off guard. But she came prepared. This wasn't going to be easy; she knew that. Corvus was right, and she knew that too. Dax took her money, if Rieve still wanted something from her it was the only thing she had left that wounded their pride... she still lived.

Corvus took another long drag on his cigarette before dropping it to the ground and smothering it with his left foot. “I gotta warn you, I'm not gonna go easy on you. Ryan wants you dead, but he wants your body as proof,” he finished. Which meant, and he was sure she knew, that he couldn't just vaporize her with his energy. He'd have to beat her to death, which while it would be fun for him to really exercise his abilities, wouldn't be fun for her.

Corvus smirked and made his move.

-+-

“Murto le!” Trunks shouted as he ran over to his friend. He turned over Murtole's body, and the young man's eyes were wide open and lifeless, blood staining the front of his lab coat. “Murtole!!” Trunks screamed, knowing it was already too late. He looked up, and a few meters ahead of him, Devan's lifeless body dropped to the ground. “Devan, no!” Trunks shouted. He was paralyzed with fear; what was happening?!

It was then that out of the darkness Trunks could see her. Armada. “What are you doing?!” Trunks shrieked as he stood. He hadn't felt this kind of pain, this kind of loneliness and despair in years. Why? Why was she murdering his friends? What had they done to deserve this?

She turned to square up toward him, and fell into a fighting stance. Her energy then erupted around her, creating a bright green aura as her eyes glowed the same shade of green.

This isn't right... Trunks thought as he stared at her. This wasn't her energy; it didn't match the Armada he knew. Not only that, but it was frighteningly powerful, more than he'd ever imagined she was capable of.

Trunks rolled over and opened his eyes. It was just a bad dream, but a strange one... he'd never dreamed of his comrade before. He sat up in his bed and ran his right hand through his hair, willing himself to calm down. He was no stranger to nightmares, but it'd been a few years since he'd had any. It was weird to experience all over again.

Just as Trunks let out a deep breath, his eyes shot wide in shock. He sensed the energy, the one from his dream... and it was exploding. It was climbing so fast, at this rate even he would have to worry. He stood in a hurry and started to get dressed, throwing his pants on followed by his shoes. Just as he finished pulling his shirt over his head and tucking it in, the energy stopped increasing. But where it settled was unbelievable. If his memory was accurate, the energy he sensed was greater than Cell just before he absorbed Android 18.

He paused for a moment to try and recall those memories, to validate his comparison, to try and be sure. Before he had a chance to really think about it, another energy exploded right next to this one, and this energy he knew all too well.

It was Armada's.

Trunks grabbed his jacket and sword and flew for the door of the ship. Armada was nowhere near that level of ability, she would be murdered in a matter of minutes. And if he was gauging the distance correctly, they felt like they were halfway around the Earth. He knew Bmyhad was a larger planet than Earth, but that distance... it would still take him a few minutes to get there.

Trunks pushed the button at the door of the ship to open it, when the reading next to the keypad flashed red with the words Access Denied. “What?!” Trunks questioned out loud. He tried punching in the few codes he knew to enter the ship and the building, but none worked. Did she... did she... he couldn't finish his thought as he closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. He would have to deal with the aftermath later, but right now if he didn't get out of this ship she was going to die. He charged a ki blast in his left hand and fired, disintegrating the door.

-+-

Armada never saw Corvus's first attack.

He had slammed his right forearm across her face, sending her flying backward through the exterior corner of the hotel and sprawling out into the street in between chunks of concrete and metal debris. She did see him when he followed her, and she scrambled back to get some distance between them when he appeared behind her and struck her down once more. Even just above the ground as they were, he was able to hit her with enough force to crack the concrete beneath them as she was slammed into the ground. Corvus then tried to stomp on her body, only to push through the street and the concrete collapsed, falling into the tunnels below. Corvus smiled to himself as he chased after her; she had managed to fly out of the way at the last possible moment.

Armada flew down a few blocks before taking off straight up into the sky. The sky was filled with water, and the typhoon pounding Temelt-Ran was no joke. She was trying to clear the city's skyscrapers so she could get a better handle on Corvus's movements. As soon as she was about to clear the roof of the building she was flying next to, Corvus appeared before her and launched himself at her feet first. The mercenary twisted her body to avoid his kick and swung back with a left hook aimed for his face. It connected, and he flew backwards and away from her.

Corvus landed on the top of the skyscraper they were exchanging blows next to, and Armada followed suit, keeping her distance from him. The top of the building was already flooded with three inches of water. The rain was coming down too fast for it to drain off of the building properly. The Rieve assassin smiled broadly at Armada as his upper lip started to swell, a small line of blood trickling down into his mouth.

“I think you're better than the reports indicated,” he said, sounding jubilant. “But I think,” he paused to swallow thickly, “that we need to skip the foreplay and get down to business.” No sooner had the words rolled off of his mouth, he unleashed his energy. Armada narrowed her eyes and took a slight step back, betraying no emotion on her face. As his energy flickered around him in thick green waves, Armada clenched her teeth. He was much, much stronger than any opponent she had ever faced.

As his energy climbed, she clenched her fists. She wouldn't give up this easily. With a scream, she began to unleash her own energy. When she felt herself just barely reach that plateau of power, Corvus flew at her. Just as he had indicated, he showed no mercy. He threw a barrage of punches, most of which Armada was unable to block. She was forced backward, off of the roof of the building as she attempted to block his hits and put some room between them. Each time she backed up an inch, he moved into that space and made her pay for it. After just a few seconds and probably a few hundred hits, Corvus stopped punching long enough to reach back and kick Armada in the abdomen with his right foot.

When Corvus's foot hit her, Armada lost all the air in her lungs and her body was hurtled backward into a nearby building. She felt herself crash through several walls, though she was unsure of how many exactly. Corvus's speed and strength were dizzying. She could barely see his movements, and despite him releasing his energy, he still wasn't going after her as much as he could. And it was infuriating.

The mercenary forced herself to sit up through sheer will, as her body was already protesting in pain. Opening her eyes fully, she was able to see that Corvus had thrown her into what appeared to be an apartment building, as she now sat in the rubble of what once was someone's kitchen. Water spilled onto the floor from busted pipes, but it hardly mattered since with the torrential rain Armada was already soaked to the bone. As she struggled to get to her feet, Corvus appeared before her. She had no time to react when he reached down and picked her up by placing his right hand around her neck.

Corvus squeezed just enough to cut the airflow to Armada's lungs without breaking her windpipe. She instinctively reached up and grabbed his arm with both of her hands, her eyes narrowing as she struggled to breathe.

“You look relatively unharmed,” Corvus spoke calmly. Water trickled down the right side of his face; his hair was now flattened against his head from the rain outside. Thunder struck out and it sounded distant, as if they were safe inside from the storm. Armada squeezed Corvus's arm tighter, and he smirked. “Clearly we need to do something about that,” he said and threw her body into the air. He immediately pulled his left hand into his chest and stuck his elbow out above his head, then rammed it into Armada's abdomen as he pushed forward through the ceiling, driving her up.

She wasn't sure how far they had gone when they finally hit the roof of the building. As soon as she felt the cool rain pelting them again, she quickly charged a blast and fired at Corvus before flying backward away from him. Before the smoke cleared and before she even had time to take a breath, Corvus flew out from the debris and drilled Armada straight in the face with his right elbow.

Her vision went black from the force of the blow, but he was close enough she could sense his movements. He started throwing punches again, and Armada tried her best to block them. For each one she blocked, he landed three or four hits. He finally paused his attacks momentarily and reached forward to grab her forearms. Armada manged to pull away at the last second, and while he had her left arm in his grip, he missed grabbing her right arm.

Instead of countering with her free hand, she turned slightly and pulled back so she could reach his face with a hard right kick. Surprisingly she connected, and Corvus pushed back and away from her, releasing her in the process. Wasting no time, Armada turned and fled, trying to buy enough time for her vision to clear up. It wasn't enough, however, and Corvus appeared in front of her again.

He reached back and smacked Armada underneath her chin with his left forearm. She stumbled backward a bit, enough that he reached for her and spun her around, pulling her back to his chest with his right arm wrapped around her neck. She immediately tried to counter by elbowing him in the stomach with her left arm, but he caught her elbow with his left hand. “I don't think so,” Corvus laughed in her left ear. “But,” he continued, “you are a lot stronger than your old friend Dax. I'm surprised. I bet he would be too if he knew how thoroughly you could kick his ass now, given the chance,” the hit-man finished with a smirk.

Armada's vision started to return as he let her go and proceeded to drive his left knee into the small of her back before he used both feet and planted them into her back, forcing her to go flying once more. This time, before crashing into the concrete exterior of yet another skyscraper, Armada was able to right herself in the air and slow down enough to plant her feet against the side of the building. She barely had time to bring her hands together in front of herself but she fired the strongest energy blast she could considering she had no time to charge.

Corvus merely swatted her energy blast out of way as if it were an annoying fly that wouldn't leave him alone. He flew straight at her, and instead of trying to run away, she planted her feet and waited for him. When he reached her and swung with a right hook for her face, Armada countered at the last second and moved slightly to the side so she could grab his outstretched arm with both hands. Using his momentum against him, she swung him around into the building behind them, forcing him through the wall. She held onto him as they burst into an office of some sort and charged her energy into her hands while still holding him. Corvus was confused, but before he could react she let go of his arm and released her energy point blank in his face. He had no time to dodge or deflect, so he took the attack head-on.

As soon as she landed the hit, Armada flew backward out of the building they had crashed into, and put some significant distance between the hit-man and herself. She floated in the sky as it thundered, rain pouring down her face, washing away some of the blood running from her nose and mouth. She knew that attack wouldn't severely hurt Corvus, so she waited; she needed to see what kind of damage she had done.

That was when she saw the hit-man step to the edge of the hole in the side of the building, before he jumped up into the sky and flew slowly toward her. Armada could feel the distinct, sickening feeling of panic trying to well up within her. She willed it back down, but it was impossible to ignore completely. As Corvus flew over to her, he didn't have a mark on him. It was finally starting to sink in to Armada, that if she couldn't keep up with his speed, and he was more powerful, so much so that a decent attack like that didn't leave a scratch... she wasn't going to make it out of this alive.

“You're pretty smart too,” Corvus said as he slowly flew to her. Armada stayed where she was and kept her gaze fixed on him. Lightning struck nearby and lit up the sky like daylight for a few seconds. She heard Corvus start laughing through the thunder following the lightning. “Damn, I wish Ryan would have let me conscript you. I could have taught you so much,” he said, sounding almost wistful. He stopped approaching her when he was about three meters away. The pair hovered in the air, the rain still coming down in sheets as they stared at one another. Corvus simply shook his head before he launched another assault.

This time Armada couldn't even react; he was so fast she could barely register his movements. As he pummeled her with punches, she felt her mouth fill up with blood and her mind wandered. It was too late; it was over. Rieve won. But she could die easy. She had taken precautions before she came here to face Corvus; she made sure she wouldn't be followed. It wasn't his fight, anyway. She figured that he may wait around for her for a while, but eventually he would realize she wasn't coming back and would just leave. That would be for the best. He had already been dragged too far into this, a personal quarrel with the mafia known as Rieve.

Corvus continued his assault, but changed tactics. Now he would slam into her, with a fist, a knee, anything, and knock her away, only to appear behind her and volley her body once more. With each hit she felt her life slipping away. As the beating continued, she wondered if the same thing would have happened if she didn't take that job. She wondered if things would have played out similarly if she took the job but didn't bother to complete it, if she simply ran. But more than anything, as her vision started to fill with blood running down her forehead and into her eyes, she thought about the person she left behind to come here. And she was confused as to why his image filled her mind's eye as everything started to go black.

Corvus kicked Armada away from him one last time and didn't give chase. Her body landed on the roof of a skyscraper shorter than the others surrounding them and skidded a few meters until she finally rested with her back against the slightly elevated lip around the edges of the roof of the building. He flew over after her, and landed a few steps away. He took his time walking up to her, and she struggled to keep both eyes open to look at him. She didn't look too terribly beat up, until Corvus noticed all the blood mixing with several inches of standing water on the roof from the rain. Her black armor hid her injuries well.

The mobster stepped up next to her and placed his right foot across her throat. He could crush her throat, she would die, and her body would still be intact per his boss's orders. He almost felt bad. She took quite a beating from him, and he was able to really flex his power in the process. He hadn't been able to do that in several years. He let out a deep breath, and started to put more pressure down on her.

Before Corvus could finish off his mark, he had the distinct feeling of being hit by a train. As if he were unknowingly standing in the tracks and it smashed into him from behind. Because the force and strength of whatever hit him from behind and sent him hurtling through the building next to the one he was standing on, and then through the building behind that, made him think of a train. It was the best comparison he could come up with.

After slamming into the guy that had his foot on Armada's neck, Trunks let out a breath. She was still alive so he wasn't too late. He took a knee beside her, as her back was leaning against the edge of the building and it propped her up somewhat like she was sitting. It didn't take him long to realize she wasn't conscious. The heavy rain was washing everything away, but she was still leaving a significant trail of blood in the water. It made Trunks's stomach turn as it brought up bad memories of finding his old mentor and friend Gohan, bloody in the rain in much the same condition she was in now.

Just to be sure, he checked her pulse at her neck and listened close to her face to make sure she was still breathing. Both signs were positive, though understandably weak. One thing that bothered him was that she didn't have any burns or cuts on her, as if the fight was purely physical in nature. He didn't get long to think about it as he sensed her attacker heading his way.

Corvus stopped a few meters back from where Armada's body still lay, and hovered in the air. A small amount of blood ran down from a minor cut in his forehead. “What's this?” Corvus asked, still trying to catch his breath. The man who knelt beside her slowly stood before Corvus continued. “She got herself a little knight in shining armor, did she?” The man with long hair simply glared at Corvus, saying nothing. “Do you have any idea who she is?” Corvus spat, certainly unhappy with this turn of events.

Trunks stood unmoving as the man who had attacked Armada started speaking to him. He had nothing to say. This guy was powerful, sure, but his level of power was something Trunks had surpassed many years ago, during his time in another world. This man held no threat to him, but he still had the nearly unbearable urge to rip him limb from limb.

“Get out of the way,” Corvus ground out angrily through clenched teeth. Lightning followed his pronouncement, as if the elements themselves were on his side in trying to intimidate Trunks. “Unless you want to be the next person to cross us and pay with your life.”

Now Trunks thought it was an opportune time to speak. He needed to affirm his suspicions before he killed this man. “Cross who, exactly?” he asked as thunder rolled in the distance.

Corvus smirked. “The most powerful mafia in the galaxy, of course,” he replied. Corvus felt himself coming back down to normal. No, it never helped him to fight angry. He needed to stay cool. “Rieve,” he added, to clarify for this simpleton who clearly knew nothing of who he was and what he was capable of. Corvus didn't care who this guy was; he was going to die, then he would kill the mercenary and take her back to headquarters with him. But the fun part was, in killing the man who had inserted himself into this fight, Corvus wasn't restricted in the same way as he was with the mercenary Armada. Nobody would ever miss the man with the ridiculous hair, so Corvus could incinerate him with prejudice.

Trunks knew the answer before Corvus had even said it. He was with Rieve. Now that he really looked at it, the dark blue suit the man wore resembled the one he remembered seeing Dax wearing when he first met Armada. Maybe they actually had some kind of uniform. Which would be pretty bold, since they would essentially be advertising who they were to the authorities. Perhaps it didn't matter, and they were powerful enough that even law enforcement didn't bother with them.

None of that truly mattered right now. Rage bubbled up within Trunks, and he forced it back down. He could fight angry, but he preferred not to. And while he didn't care for Armada even one ounce the same as he cared for Gohan, seeing her in the same position as his teacher set off a fire within him he didn't know he had. He supposed he finally understood a conversation he'd had with his mother some time ago about the word 'triggering.'

Corvus wasted no time in making the first move. In a flash he was upon Trunks, throwing punches mixed with kicks as he attempted to hit the mercenary. Trunks was slightly shocked at Corvus's speed. He was faster than Trunks anticipated due to his power, but it would never be enough. Trunks effortlessly blocked all of Corvus's attacks without starting any counterattack of his own. He needed a moment to gauge how Corvus would react. After a few seconds, Trunks thought he had a handle on how Corvus moved. He stopped blocking to lift his left hand and catch Corvus's right fist.

The hit-man's eyes widened momentarily before Trunks struck back with a hard fist to his face, right across the bridge of his nose. Corvus tried to flee, but was unable to pull away from Trunks's grip on his right hand. The mercenary followed up with a crushing elbow to Corvus's chest, directly into his sternum. Air escaped Corvus's lungs in a rush, and Trunks let got of his fist. Before Corvus could flee, Trunks swung up with his right forearm, smacking Corvus under the chin and sending his head flying back. The demi-Saiyan finished with a powerful kick to Corvus's center which sent him hurtling through the air once more.

As soon as Corvus broke through steel and concrete once more from this mysterious defender, he righted himself in the air and landed on his feet on an office floor. He wiped the blood and water from his face as his vision cleared up. Whoever this guy was, he was far stronger than the mercenary he came for. All information they had on her indicated she worked alone, and had done so for years. So who the hell was this guy? Realizing it didn't matter and he already knew what he had to do, Corvus steeled himself. He wouldn't let some nobody upstage him, especially not on a mission this important to his leader and friend.

Trunks waited patiently as he floated in the air, the rain having long soaked through every stitch of clothing he was wearing. His hair was stuck to his face, but he kept his eyes on the building he'd knocked Corvus into. He could sense the mobster and knew he was still alive, and he also knew that his hits wouldn't have incapacitated him that easily. So he waited, figuring his opponent was coming up with something to counterattack with. There was no need to chase him into a confined space, considering Trunks had the upper hand.

Suddenly Trunks felt Corvus's energy spike, and a bright green wave of ki shot out of the building, disintegrating a much larger area of the structure than the hole Corvus had created when he crashed into it. It wasn't a blast Trunks could block, so he dodged to the side, only to meet with Corvus's knee in his chest. He couldn't avoid the hit, but was able to move backward and regain his bearings before Corvus continued his assault. This time, his hits were faster and harder, and Trunks was mildly surprised. He thought the mobster had already unleashed the entirety of his power, but it appeared he had not. Regardless, it still wouldn't be enough to best him.

Trunks decided he'd had enough of defense, so he started parrying Corvus's hits and filling the gaps with his own attacks. The mercenary used his energy to boost his speed, and Corvus could do nothing in response but take hit after hit. Much like the punishment he had doled out only minutes earlier to the mercenary he was after, Corvus was now on the receiving end. His mouth filled with blood and it ran from his nose, washed away by the rain. Knowing that he had to do something, Corvus patiently waited for an opening. And when Trunks stopped hitting him to charge an energy blast in his right hand, Corvus had found it.

Immediately he countered with his own blast, point blank. Trunks fired his in return to volley some of the energy away. He was surprised; he didn't sense Corvus charging a blast and the amount of energy he fired was troubling. Corvus kept pushing everything he had into it, and screamed as the beam doubled in size and intensity. When he couldn't fire anymore, Corvus flew back several dozen meters to get some distance between them.

Trunks emerged from the light of Corvus's attack completely unscathed and equally unfazed. While the hit-man's abilities had been surprising to Trunks, the gap in their power was so great it was impossible for Corvus to overcome it. The mafioso swallowed thickly; now he understood just how the tables had turned. He wouldn't be able to beat this guy head-on. No, but that didn't mean he would turn and run. He had a mission to complete. His pride was on the line.

An idea struck him, and Corvus disappeared. Trunks blinked in confusion for a moment before he sensed his enemy again, and the direction he was headed. Trunks's eyes widened in shock for a split second before he turned and flew after the Rieve assassin.

Corvus appeared above Armada and immediately fired an energy blast, hovering only five meters from her body. Trunks couldn't make it in time to deflect the blast, so he did the only thing he could—he fired a counter blast of his own to try and spare her body from being hit. The roof of the building exploded as their energies mixed, and Trunks lost track of Armada. He heard another crash, and turned to see yet another wound in another skyscraper. He immediately flew to the area, barely sensing her energy inside the building.

Just as Trunks appeared in front of Armada's unconscious body, Corvus did the same. This time the mobster had a sphere of white energy around his right fist. Trunks prepared to counter his attack only to have Corvus let loose the energy in front of his face. However, it wasn't the attack Trunks suspected. The energy dispersed as an intense light, so intense it blinded him. Corvus then went on the offensive, and Trunks found that the previous attack not only blinded him, but dulled his senses as well. He had trouble sensing Corvus's movements, and as a result took a smattering of blows as Corvus slowly pushed him backward. Each blow that Trunks tried to block or parry, he slightly missed, or connected but not enough to have an effect.

Trunks knew they were outside again when he felt the rain hit his face. That same rain now made things even more difficult. Disoriented as he was, raindrops only added to the confusion of trying to pick out his opponent's movements, something Corvus was probably counting on. Finally, with a blow that Trunks couldn't even discern what exactly it was, Corvus was able to send the mercenary flying. When Trunks felt himself hit a wall, he stopped himself from going through it, but before he could think he sensed energy headed his way. He flew up and into the sky, dodging smaller but still very powerful blasts.

As his enemy flew away, Corvus wasted no time getting to the task at hand. He wouldn't be able to escape with Armada, which meant the only thing he could do was kill her and flee. He hesitated for a moment; if he incinerated her there certainly wouldn't be any proof. If he couldn't take her body back with him though, he needed to make sure her death would be discovered. He reached down and grabbed the back of her head, his fist tangling into her hair at the base of her skull where her braid began. With a solid grip on her, he flew outside into the storm.

Once outside, Corvus looked down to the flooded streets below. With as much force as he could muster, he threw her body straight toward the asphalt below. She would hit with enough force to kill her, but to be sure he flew after her, planning to crush her bones and internal organs moments after impact by slamming into her. The force of both blows would be enough to finish it, and the corpse would be found by the locals once they returned to the city after the storm passed. Even if it wasn't on the local news, law enforcement would investigate and take pictures. Pictures which could be stolen via network hacking to substantiate Corvus's retelling of the events when he returned to base. It wasn't a perfect plan, but in the current circumstances it would do.

Trunks dodged the last of Corvus's energy blasts and fired one of his own, destroying it in the process. His vision and senses had started to return, when he looked down to see Corvus throw Armada toward the ground below. She was too far from him and moving too fast; the mobster took off after her and Trunks internally grimaced. He didn't want to use it, but he had no choice. He couldn't clear that distance in time without the use of that form.

Corvus was right behind the mercenary he was set to execute, and just as he expected her to impact mere moments before he did, she disappeared. He did however hit the ground with his feet, breaking through the street as chunks of concrete and steel fell into the subway system below. Before he could even turn his eyes up to see what happened, Corvus felt pain in his chest, just to the right of his sternum, almost exactly opposite to where his heart would be.

When he looked up he found himself staring into teal eyes and gold hair. Corvus's eyes widened in shock; just what the hell was this guy?

Trunks twisted his sword in Corvus's chest, making sure it was embedded into the concrete of the building behind them. The mobster flinched at the pain, realizing he was pinned. He looked down at the sword that had been rammed through his chest, and the blood that poured down his clothes from the wound. It didn't look as bad as it was, with the heavy rain washing a lot of the blood away. But he knew it was over. This new strength his enemy showed off was simply terrifying. If there was a gap in their power before, it had since increased a hundred times over. And Corvus knew he had no chance of stopping this man now.

Corvus's eyes wandered back up to those of his enemy. “See you in hell,” he said with a laugh. How strange it was, to come here on a mission that would be easy, only to run into a true demon in terms of strength and meet his own demise. He hoped Ryan wouldn't be too angry.

Trunks yanked his sword from the hit man’s body, a stream of blood following it. With his free hand, he reached up and fired a ki blast, powerful to incinerate Corvus. After a few seconds, Trunks stopped firing and verified that Corvus was gone. His energy had completely disappeared. Pieces of debris fell from the crumbling area of the building Trunks had vaporized with Corvus.

The Super Saiyan stood in the rain for a few moments, letting out deep breaths as the rain poured down. The water washed most of the blood from his sword, and after a brief respite, he quickly sheathed his sword on his back once more. He turned and walked slowly over to his unconscious comrade. He had no time to set her down properly, only enough to stop her from crashing into the ground with the full force of Corvus's throw. As a result, all he could do was catch her to absorb the impact and immediately drop her a few meters away from where she was going to crash.

He bent down to pick her up, her head barely above the water rushing by. She wasn't dead, but she was closer to it than anyone ever wanted to be. Not wanting to waste any more time, once he had her secured in his grip, his left around around her back and his right arm hooked under her knees, he took off. He flew while keeping his transformation, because it would make the trip back much shorter than it had been on the way there.

-+-

All that Armada could think about was a terrifying, absolutely crushing aura she felt briefly. When Corvus had his foot on her throat and choked off her air, she figured she was done for. The next thing she remembered she sensed two energies dueling not far from her. She couldn't move, couldn't even open her eyes. That was when Corvus grabbed her by her hair and launched her. All she remembered after that was an aura, a power so intense it was impossible to breathe. Never in her life had she felt something so incredible, so literally awesome that even if she had been able to, she wouldn't have found voice within her lungs. She felt the heat of a blast, nearby, again from that same aura, so intense it was unbearable.

These thoughts played over and over in her head, as if she was stuck inside a dark void with nothing else to occupy her time. And no matter how she tried to rationalize it to herself, despite the different feeling that ki gave off, she knew who it belonged to. It still didn't make any sense to her, beyond giving her nightmares of Trunks choking the life from her with his incredible strength. A strength so vast she wondered why hadn't conquered half the known universe. There would be nothing stopping him.

Suddenly, her neck in his grip once more as he stared her down in her dreams, Armada felt the overwhelming urge to cough. And when she did cough, her eyes opened as her chest shook from the action. The first cough was followed by five more, before she managed to grab whatever was lying under her left hand and grasp it as tightly as she could. She willed her right hand to move, and it obeyed. Pushing her right hand back for support, and wanting to verify that the ceiling she stared at was the ceiling she thought it was, Armada forced herself to sit up.

She didn't expect to make it all the way up the first time she tried, but she did. She coughed a few more times and leaned forward, slowly rousing her legs to move as well. She noticed that she was stripped down to her underwear, still wearing her bandages over her abdomen from the nasty slice she had running down her side, sitting beneath a white sheet. A white sheet for a bed in the infirmary of her ship, where she was.

Before she could totally grasp the world around her, she sensed his energy. It had now become a suffocating force for her, she couldn't not sense it; it would hang over her like a dark cloud of smoke, ready to choke the life out of her at the earliest opportunity. Still, she turned to her left to see him sitting in the same chair she had collapsed into only days prior, drinking to dull the pain of stitching herself up with electrical wire. His light blue eyes stared directly at her, and she didn't need to read the anger in his face. It was present in the room; his energy buzzed with fury, so much so that it made her head feel dull.

She expected him to say something, but Trunks stayed silent and only stared. Armada felt weak and dizzy; her head fell forward and she caught it with her right hand, her eyes diverting from his as she struggled to keep a grasp on reality.

“Why?” Trunks finally spoke, and Armada was surprised at his tone. He didn't sound angry at all. He sounded... hurt. Had she misread his energy?

She took a breath and lifted her head, turning to face him so she could meet his gaze with hers. “It wasn't your fight,” she said lowly, her voice weak.

He knew she would say that. After all, she had given him that tea that made his senses dull so he wouldn't wake up upon immediately sensing her flying away. She had changed the passcode for the door to the ship, trying to lock him in. Clearly, she didn't want him interfering. But why? So she could go off and die? Trunks was wondering if he would ever understand her. Or worse, if she was even sane.

On the other hand, she didn't want him involved, which could indicate that she cared for his well being. He still had significant doubts that such a thing was possible, but it would explain why she chose the path she did. If she merely didn't want him to interfere, all she had to do was ask. Part of him wondered if she knew she was going off to her death to face the mobster. Otherwise, why the secrecy? Then again, very little of what she did made sense to him. Perhaps he was over-thinking this and she was merely insane. That hypothesis had a lot going for it as things stood.

“You're not alone,” Trunks spoke again, trying to reason with her. “You don't have to do things by yourself.” You don't have to die for no reason, he thought, choosing not to voice those particular words.

Armada turned her back to him; she didn't want to look at his eyes anymore. The same eyes she saw when she closed her eyes and he killed her in her dreams. After a few long seconds of silence, she finally spoke. “Get out,” she said quietly and without the same angered tone she typically used.

Trunks knew she wouldn't suddenly open up and be reasonable, yet he still felt a tinge of disappointment. He did as asked, and left the infirmary. On his way back to his room, he grabbed a bottle of water to get a drink before he settled in to get some rest. He hadn't slept more than about four hours total over the last three days, after he had treated Armada and sat in that same chair, waiting for her to wake up. While he felt stupid for wasting his time worrying about her, he knew that given the same scenario again, he would have done exactly the same thing. Perhaps then he was the one losing his grip on sanity, not her.

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Today's lyrical content provided by:  "Son of Sam," Shinedown