Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Rebirth of Destruction ❯ Terminus ( Chapter 9 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Author’s notes: WE DID IT!!! First of all, Tamith and I would like to sincerely apologize for having taken 6 years to finish the last chapter. *wince* Sorry, sorry, sorry! Life got in the way. But, we did promise we’d finish and we did. Tamith deserves the credit for a large portion of this chapter. She rocks! There is a short epilogue to come after this, so stay tuned. That one will most likely not take as long as this chapter. I hope it was worth the wait! And without further ado…

The opening of the portal to the afterlife took the little strength Coran had that kept him standing. As the gap widened, he collapsed onto the floor altogether. His vision swam for a few moments as he felt something inside him tear apart. He tasted something bitter and metallic in his mouth then began to cough uncontrollably. Cursing silently, he realized that the magic that was keeping him together was starting to fade. The use of so much heavy magic so close in timing was taking a serious toll on his body, and the wounds he had taken upon himself as the fusion were opening. Still, this had been his choice and he had one last card to play.

He’d play it well.

Coran looked at his twin brother and saw that Ailill had his hands full with opening the portal. He could see the strain it was causing him and knew that for the older twin, the magic he was wielding was completely unknown. Only he had managed to safely master that much power, so while Ailill battled with all the souls of Hell and stabilized the gateway, he had several precious minutes. He took a few moments to see where everyone was. Dalia and Vegeta’s brat were once again locked in combat. She appeared unharmed and at top strength, but he knew better. Ailill's attack would have killed her in several more seconds had he not intervened, and the traces of magic that were still in her body were enough to seriously weaken and hurt her. Still, the alien princess was a warrior and she was not letting her pain show. As long as she used her unnatural speed to avoid the Saiyan’s attacks, she would appear completely fine.

King Kold was another story. Now that Cell had been destroyed, both the Saiyans and the Namekian had teamed up with the short human and ganged up on him. It was taking King Kold all the tricks he could muster to fend off three attackers, but for the moment he was holding his ground.

Finally he turned towards the aerial battle between his immediate masters and the Saiyans. There, his senses could pick up the trouble his eyes couldn’t immediately see, what he had learned while holding the fusion. Koola and Freeza were fighting practically back to back and on more than one occasion, Freeza turned from momentarily stunning Vegeta with a ki blast to attacking Goku while Koola hung back.

“Dammit…” he muttered. Things were happening faster than he had once anticipated. Seeing that Ailill was still busy with the portal he dug deep into his being for enough magical reserves to stabilize himself with. A façade of health was all he needed, enough to hold together a little bit longer.

He wiped his mouth clean of blood and stood. Above him, what he had been dreading was occurring. Goku had indeed noticed Koola was slightly out of pace and was exploiting the new found weakness. Freeza had his hands full with Vegeta and could not safeguard his older brother as much as was necessary.

Then it happened.

Goku landed a powerful blow to Koola’s stomach and sent him tumbling downwards. The Ice-jin prince crash-landed on the ground then managed to pick himself up only to double over in pain and begin vomiting blood.

Dalia! Coran thought in urgency, then saw that she was trying to make her way over, but was being hampered by the purple haired boy. Enough of this! With a quick whisper, he engaged the spell that had kept Trunks prisoner so many times before. He felt a wave of pain shoot through his body, but smiled satisfactorily as the energy cube solidified around the young half Saiyan locking him inside.

Once free of the demi Saiyan burden, Dalia flew up towards the battle and intercepted Goku as he was flying down towards Koola.

“What’s the rush?” she asked Goku as he stopped a few feet before her in confusion.

“I have no fight with you,” Goku told the silver haired girl. “This is none of your business. Get out of my way!”

“And if I decide not to?” Dalia replied is a sly smile. The few seconds of hesitation from Goku’s part were all she needed. Quickly reading his ki, she powered up hers to match it.

Goku’s eyes widened as he sensed the spike in her ki signature. “It can’t be!” he exclaimed. Not giving him a chance to contemplate the thought further, she quickly dashed at him landing a punch to his chest that sent him tumbling backwards several yards before he could regain control.

“Kakarot!” Vegeta called at him from his battle with Freeza. “She’s not-" He started, but a ki blast from the Ice-jin interrupted him mid-sentence.

Goku turned back towards Dalia just in time to block another of her blows. Goku powered up to attack her but she agilely danced out of the way. He tried again several times and obtained the same results. “Damn!” he swore. “You’re fast!”

“…really…” he heard Vegeta call at him again then turn to block Freeza.

“I noticed!” Goku called back, thinking Vegeta had been stating the obvious. By now Dalia was attacking again and it took all of his attention to stop them.

“…that strong!” Vegeta yelled at him as he flew by engaged in a rapid fist fight with the younger Ice-jin prince.

Goku fired a ki ball at Dalia that she couldn’t block and sent her crashing towards the surface. “What did you say?” he called at Vegeta while keeping a wary eye on the warrior princess.

“Dammit, Kakarot!” Vegeta exclaimed in frustration. He fired a ki blast at Freeza allowing him several seconds. “She’s fighting defensively! She can imitate your ki, but she’s not really that strong! Finish her!”

“Oh…” Goku said realizing that his attack had not been strong enough to knock someone at his level of strength down. Dalia was back several moments later and he confirmed what Vegeta had told him. She was very fast and used that skill to her advantage, but she wasn’t as strong as she appeared to be. He blasted a powerful ki ray at her strong enough to send her crashing down again, but this time she didn’t get up. Goku flew after her but was once again intercepted, this time by Koola.

“Don’t you just hate it when you’re interrupted?” the Ice-jin prince asked coolly.

Goku smiled. “You were healed,” he stated noticing the lack of injuries he knew Koola to have recently received.

“I’m only returning the favor,” Koola responded. “You’re not the only ones that carry a bag of tricks as back-up.”

Goku smiled being suddenly filled with the thrill of battle. “I guess not,” he replied then flew towards Koola to quickly resume their battle where it had last been left off.

Videl gasped as she watched Gohan fly back 50 meters, hit with a particularly hard blow dealt by King Kold. She cradled baby Goten to her tightly, watching in utter tension as her husband recovered and flew back into the battle. He already looked tired enough as it was; the battle with Cell had left him drained, she could tell. Gohan was a strong fighter, with plenty of stamina to spare, but even the Saiyans had limits. Standing with equal tension behind her, Bulma and Dende watched the fight wearily.

“He’ll be okay,” Bulma said gently, stepping up to Videl and resting a hand on the other woman’s shoulder.

Videl nodded, her eyes never leaving the ongoing battle between her husband and the eldest Ice-jin. “I just want this to be over. I want to go home.”

Bulma smiled wearily, cradling her baby daughter as she cast a concerned glace at Vegeta, where he was still locked in combat with Freeza. “Don’t we all?”

A loud crash rang through the courtyard and this time, they looked to find Krillin on the ground, the floor around him a crater. The women watched, anxiously waiting for him to rise again, but the small man would not move. Krillin’s hand moved slightly, as if trying to grab something to brace himself against, in order to stand, but it felt limply against his side almost immediately.

“Do you think he’s…”

Videl didn’t get to finish her sentence before Bulma was already shaking her head vehemently. “He’s just unconscious,” Bulma replied, glancing back at King Kold. “But I don’t think he’ll be going back up there anytime soon.”

In the distance, they observed as Piccolo landed a particularly hard punch into King Kold’s stomach, making the Ice-jin double over in pain. Not even allowing a second to pass, Gohan was already on top of him, landing a hard strike over Kold’s neck that made the purple alien fly down to the ground. Quickly, Gohan powered up an energy ball and sent it flying after Kold, but at the last second, the Ice-jin moved out of the way and flew at Piccolo, which ensued yet another series of fast blows that neither Videl nor Bulma could follow with their eyes.

Videl looked back at Krillin, who hadn’t moved from his spot at all. “I’m going to get him out of there,” she said with resolve.

“No,” Dende told her, shaking his hands as she tried to give him baby Goten. “It’s too dangerous out there, you’ll get killed.”

“We can’t just leave him there to die,” Videl protested.

“I know how you feel, but these two newborns are our main priority right now. We’ve done all we can,” Bulma said firmly. She glanced down at her baby girl, who had begun fussing again. “There, there. Shhhh, don’t worry, it’ll be okay.” She bounced the girl in her arms, turning her eyes back to look at Gohan’s fight.

Kold was stronger than she had realized. The king of the Ice-jin had been standing quietly in the sidelines, letting his sons fight as he watched with keen attention. Bulma had assumed that it had meant he wasn’t powerful enough to hold his own in battle. But as she watched him exchange blows with both Piccolo and a Super Saiyan 2 Gohan, she was realizing how wrong she had been. Kold was powerful enough in his own right and she could tell that it was taking its toll on Gohan. Bulma thought idly, Maybe he shouldn’t have jumped from one battle to another without healing with Dende first….

“No!” she heard Videl cry out from beside her.

Startled, Bulma followed the other woman’s line of vision. Gohan was lying on the ground, the floor around him cracked and torn, his forehead bleeding profoundly and his leg twisted in an unnatural angle. Sensing Videl’s distress, baby Goten started to wail loudly, causing Bura to start crying once again. Now it was just Piccolo against King Kold. From his extra violent and calculated moves, Bulma could tell that Piccolo’s anger was increasing his strength. The combat had become even more heated and the Namekian was not going to go easy on his foe anymore.

Ignoring the fight once more, Videl choked on a sob and quickly handed the baby to an unsuspecting Dende. Before anyone could say anything, she ran out into the open and straight to her wounded husband. When she got to him, she fell to her knees and gently lifted his head.

“Gohan,” she called shaking him gently. “Gohan, open your eyes!”

“Videl!” Bulma shrieked from her hiding place. “Get out of there, you’ll get yourself killed!”

Videl ignored her, calling to Gohan again. This time, Gohan opened his eyes and looked at her. “Hey,” he said weakly. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m going to move you from here; you’re too hurt to go back into battle again.”

Gohan shook his head, wincing at the movement. “No, get back now.”

Videl ignored him and started to gather him in her arms. She was strong for a human woman and she knew she would be able to move him easily.

She had only just lifted him off the ground when she felt someone grab her by the back of her shirt and was suddenly levitated off the ground and away from her previous spot. “What the—?”

A flash of blinding light covered the spot she and Gohan had just occupied moments before. “Are you alright?” asked a small voice behind her.

She glanced back to find Dende holding her off the ground. With a nervous, but grateful smile at Earth’s god, she nodded wearily and told him that she could handle flying herself now. Dende let go of her and together, they flew back to the spot where Bulma was waiting for them with a bawling baby in each arm.

“When I saw that energy blast heading towards you, I thought you were done for!” Bulma exclaimed when her three friends returned.

Videl placed a conscious Gohan on the ground. “Thanks, Dende,” the demi-Saiyan said heavily.

“I only did what was necessary,” the Namekian replied, embarrassed at the attention.

It was then that Videl glanced back to where Piccolo and King Kold had been fighting, only to find Piccolo levitating back to the ground by himself. The spot that an injured Gohan had previously occupied was now taken up by the dead Ice-jin.

Coran made his way as quickly as he could to the spot where Dalia had fallen. He knew he only had a moment to spare and nothing more. Ailill was finally stabilizing the portal enough to concentrate once again on his surroundings so his absence would not go unnoticed for much longer. Ignoring his own soreness, he sprinted the last several meters to the crater that had formed where Dalia had landed. Once there, he grimaced by what he found. Dalia was unconscious and surrounded by a silver pool of her own blood. He slid down the crater walls then set down the small bundle of what was left of his cape he’d been carrying in order to better inspect her. As he had feared, she didn’t have any visible physical wounds other than several scratches. However, her fight with the Son Goku had weakened her enough for the magical wounds she had obtained from Ailill to surface. Now her once pale blue body was covered by a thin film of silver as her skin bled through.  

Coran gritted his teeth and cursed Ailill. In this lifetime or the next, he would make sure his brother paid for all the hardships he had cost him.

He took a deep breath to calm himself, then gently cradled Dalia in his arms. Whispering a soft chant, he proceeded on summoning some of his magical reserves in order to restore Dalia to full health. Several seconds later, her breathing normalized and all traces of injury disappeared as the healing process was completed. Coran set Dalia down as a wave of nausea shook him. His vision swam for several seconds making him fear he would black out altogether. The moment passed, but he could feel himself tremble uncontrollably from the strain his body was under. Whereas before he could have performed this spell in a heartbeat, now it was costing him more than he was willing to admit.

“Coran?” He opened his eyes to find Dalia looking up at him, worry written all over her face. “You’re completely pale. What have you done?”

Coran smiled at her, partially to buy himself several seconds with which to find his voice again and partially because he was glad to see her well. “It’s alright,” he responded being mindful that his voice didn’t break.

“You’re not fooling me,” Dalia stated sitting up. “You’ve reached your limit. You’re done.”

Coran chuckled softly. “You think so? But that’s the thing about magic; it really doesn’t have a limit… when you learn to understand it. It simply evolves.”

“It may not, but you do,” Dalia stated firmly. She was going to say more but then her newly healed senses picked up on the ongoing battles. “King Kold!” she exclaimed jumping to her feet. Before she could go anywhere, Coran grabbed her arm.

“Let it go,” he told her.

“What!” she cried out. “You don’t expect me to just sit here and-“

“Please…” he interrupted, almost begging her to listen. “There are more important things to worry about now.”

Dalia stared at him incredulously. There was no doubt in her mind that something was terribly wrong with Coran. Not only could she sense the physical agony he was in, but a well-disguised desperation as well.

“You must listen to me now and do as I say without question,” he said pulling her back down to where he was. The crater walls were high enough to fully hide them from the view of their surroundings. They were safe, for the moment.

“What is going on,” she asked making no effort to hide to worry she was feeling. “Why are you acting like this?”

Coran took a deep breath. He was very much aware that what he was about to say would not be easy to hear.

“Do you remember when you said you’d do anything to avenge our masters? Anything to be sure the Saiyans would pay for what they did?” Dalia nodded cautiously so he continued. “It’s been done. Already everything has been set into motion; there is nothing more you can do here. You must leave now, on Lord Koola’s orders.”

Dalia looked completely confused. “What? I cannot leave, they might need-”

“Both Saiyans are out of your league, Dalia and I won’t be able to help you after this,” Coran cut in. “You must go and do as you are ordered. I will stay behind and see things through.”

Dalia stared at him at a loss of words. This didn’t make any sense! He had always been so confident, always so sure of everything he said and everything they planned together… Then her eyes widened in realization. “You knew…” she whispered. “You foresaw exactly what was going to happen. You’ve known all along…”

Coran looked away from her. “I knew,” he responded quietly, not making eye contact. “However, I misread portions of it. That is the way my visions work. I foresee images, places, people, events… not always in chronological order and I must then piece it together. I get bits and pieces at different times that I must build into a whole picture. Things happened faster than I thought they might. But regardless of that, the outcome will remain the same. That much was always clear.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” she stated firmly.

“You don’t have a choice,” Coran replied. “Even if Lord Koola had not ordered it, I cannot go. Your presence will not be missed; your power isn’t something they have to fear. In my case, Ailill will know I am gone and the danger it would be that I escape. I am too powerful in ways the Saiyans cannot understand to be allowed to roam free…”

“Wait…” Dalia said concerned. “What are you saying?”

Coran picked up the small bundle his cape was, and gave it to her. “Under all circumstances, you must live. We’ve worked too hard for this.”

Dalia froze as the weight of what he was saying hit home. She suddenly felt incredibly weak as she took to bundle of robes from Coran’s outstretched hands and brought it to her chest. All the while she had been shaking her head negatively. “I can’t let you…” she stammered. “I can’t believe you knew…”

“I’m sorry…” he told her. “I did all I could…”

Dalia nodded, not out of agreement, but because she didn’t know what else to do to respond. For the first time in what seemed to be ages, she felt like a small child. She shut her eyes rapidly and turned her face away as she fought down the sudden impulse to cry.

“I can promise you this,” Coran continued, he gently turned her head back towards him. “No matter what happens, Heaven, Hell, and all its minions will not be able to hold me for long. I will find my way back to you.”

It took moment for Dalia to answer as a million thoughts crossed her mind. She then looked up at him for a time, and in an almost dream-like state stood up. “I will do as I am ordered…” she spoke finally though he could tell her mind wasn’t really there when she said it.

“Be safe…” he whispered as he allowed the psychic bond that united them to express all else he would have said. He allowed himself to caress her cheek, taking that last moment to admire her beauty one last time. Dalia stared at him a second longer, then took several steps backwards, robes still clutched to her chest, and disappeared in the blink of an eye. Coran looked at the spot she had previously occupied a moment before forcing himself to stand. He looked up at the ongoing Saiyan/Ice-jin battle, then at the whirlpool that had formed in the night sky.

Time was up.

“Let us end it,” he whispered as he gathered his strength and power then stepped out onto the battlefield.

Vegeta ducked another punch and moved out of the way as Freeza’s knee came up to connect with his gut. He materialized behind the Ice-jin, both hands clasped together high above him and ready to come down over the other creature’s shoulders. At the last possible second, Freeza moved out of the way and Saiyan hit empty air. Vegeta scowled in anger and whipped around to fend off yet another kick.

“Why can’t you just die already, like the rest of your pathetic monkey race, you damn, dirty ape?” Freeza growled as he missed his kick.

Vegeta landed a punch of the side of Freeza’s face, sending him flying back twenty feet before the creature managed to regain his footing.

“Why can’t you just die and stay the fuck dead already?” shot back Vegeta as he hovered in place waiting for Freeza to attack again. He was eyeing the portal that was steadily growing larger behind the Ice-jin. Now all he had to do was get Freeza and Koola through it again. That part might not prove quite so simple. He wasn’t sure what would happen to him or Goku if either of them ended up going through the portal instead, but he quickly decided he wasn’t about to find out. His mind was fully focused on the battle at hand, determined to avoid any distraction.

Vegeta had always lived for the thrill of battle and the demonstration of strength. This was what he had dreamed of his entire life, for as long as he had known Freeza. Last time they had fought, Freeza had easily outmatched him. This time, the two were on equal ground and Vegeta knew he had a real chance. And yet, for the second time in his entire life, he didn’t find himself thinking about the power and glory that would come with defeating his foe. Instead, his mind kept wandering to the blue-haired woman who had wormed herself into his cold heart and their child—no, children—whose safety depended on this very moment. As much as he craved this battle, this revenge, a part of him couldn’t wait to get it over with so that he could finally get to go home and enjoy his family again.

Home. Yes, Earth was his home.

With that thought vaguely in the back of his mind, Vegeta summoned every last bit of strength from within and landed a right kick on Freeza’s chest, hitting him square in the center. He heard a satisfying crack as something, most likely a bone, from Freeza’s anatomy snapped. With a cry of pain, the Glai’keel-sei prince once again flew back, this time heading dangerously close to the ever growing vortex. Vegeta lunged at Freeza quickly, aiming to hit him again with his shoulder in the same spot he had heard crack just seconds before. In just a few moments, Vegeta could push him far enough to get him inside…

At the last possible second, Freeza ducked Vegeta’s assault. Vegeta’s eyes went wide and he forced himself to stop his flight abruptly to avoid the portal himself. Not wanting to risk getting thrown in himself, he immediately dropped altitude and headed in the opposite direction.

Damnit. This is going to be harder than I thought.

He was already breathing heavily. The fight was taking its toll on him, despite Dende’s previous healing. Freeza’s barrage of attacks did not cease, but they were getting slower, and Vegeta could tell that his enemy was growing tired as well. He sidestepped a clumsy energy ball thrown by Freeza and flew out of the way.

“What’s the matter, Freeza?” Vegeta taunted. “Getting slow in your old age?”

With a flash of renewed vigor, Freeza flew at him again, but they were too evenly matched. The fight had gone on long enough and neither party had been able to overpower the other.

“Do you think you can fool me that easily, my little monkey prince?”

Freeza was suddenly hovering in front of him, blocking his path with a self-satisfied smile on his porcelain face. It made Vegeta want to rip his mouth off.

“I fooled you for years, making you think I was your loyal servant,” Vegeta replied. “Does it drive you crazy to know that while you were in hell, I reclaimed my own life back? That I became more powerful than you? That I produced more Saiyan heirs while you thought you had made our race extinct?”

Freeza threw his head back and laughed that infuriatingly sweet laugh. “The only fool here is you, Vegeta, if you think you will ever be free of my influence. You are who you are today, because I made you so. You are mine, little prince, and you will be mine until the day you die again.”

The words hit Vegeta harder than he would have thought they would. The Ice-jin had just given voice to all the fears that had haunted him since the day he had come back to life for the first time on Namek. No matter how often he pushed them back, they always seemed to resurface in the nightmares that had often plagued his sleep, even now, decades after he had broken free from servitude, and in the waking hours when he had nothing to do but reflect. He had managed to rebuild his life, form a family, adopt a new place to call home, save the universe from complete and utter destruction—and yet still, to this day, he had never really managed to fully rid himself of Freeza’s influence. It was maddening to realize that the creature knew that so well.

He gritted his teeth in anger. No, he refused to let it get to him this time. These thoughts were distracting and Freeza was counting on that to win. Vegeta had bigger priorities than his own personal demons; his family—the only people he actually gave a damn about—literally depended on him for survival right now. The thoughts and insecurities were quickly pushed back into a compartment in his mind reserved for it, which usually manifested itself only in his sleep, and he twisted his mouth into a smirk.

“Or perhaps until the day you die again,” he retorted. “Once and for all.”

Freeza spread his arms invitingly. “Do your worst, monkey. I’m still waiting…”

“You’re such a coward,” Vegeta continued. “Your fight was with me, not my family.”

Freeza laughed again. “Look at you, my little simian prince. All concerned about your little family now? You’re pathetic, just like you always were! Your little hybrid brat can take care of himself well enough. After all, he managed to do what you couldn’t do the first time around… kill me.”

Vegeta tossed another energy ball at Freeza, catching him square in the chest and tossing him back several meters. “Don’t worry, that particular bit is about to be remedied now.”

Again, Freeza chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing at the Saiyan prince smugly. Just meters behind him, the portal was now bigger than the Ice-jin. Just a little bit… thought Vegeta.

“Freeza!” Koola’s alarmed voice rang out from behind Vegeta again, on the other side of the courtyard. Before he could say anything else, Goku was on him once again.

“You know what your problem was, Lord Freeza?” Vegeta said conversationally. “You always were too sure of yourself.”

With that, he quickly tossed another energy ball at the Ice-jin prince. This time, Freeza moved out of the way, managing to whirl around on his side using quick reflexes. It was then that he noticed his close proximity to the portal. Startled, he tried to move out of the way, but Vegeta didn’t give him the opportunity. He took advantage of Freeza’s surprise and tossed a hard energy ball in his direction. This time, it caught him on the shoulder, tossing him backwards against the portal. Vegeta wasted no time.

“I’ll see you in hell!” he cried. “BIG BANG ATTACK!” With that, he began to pummel Freeza with a series of quick, strong energy balls. In a matter of seconds, Freeza disappeared into the portal, swallowed whole and never to be seen again.

Vegeta froze staring at the spot Freeza had disappeared into and allowed the event to sink in. Finally, after a lifetime of nightmares, he was finally free. The one responsible for all his pains had finally been made to pay and it had been he who had delivered the punishment.

He was not allowed to dwell in his victory for long when Goku called out his name urgently. He turned towards the other Saiyan but was met by a hard blow that sent him crashing into the ground. Vegeta grunted in pain as he picked himself up. Several meters above him, Koola was looking down at him, death written all over his face.

The Saiyan prince chuckled as he stood up. “A little upset, aren’t we?” he tossed back at the Ice-jin. Koola seemed barely able to control his rage as his lips curled into a cruel smile.

“You will pay for this…” he seethed.

Vegeta laughed, but before he could formulate a response, Goku had arrived and stopped several meters from the Ice-jin prince. Koola looked back at Goku and smiled. Instead of attacking, he turned his body sideways and seemed to be gathering something out of the air. Goku froze as he vaguely recognized Koola’s strange antics. Slowly it all came together. In horror, he realized that the strange kata-like steps he was performing were actually an attack. He had witnessed that attacked performed once before and the only reason he had survived it was because he had already been dead.

The Tournament in Heaven…

“Paikuhan…” he uttered as it all pieced together.

He realized all of this too late. Before he could move, Koola had finished summoning the attack and had blasted a curtain of fire in his direction. There was no escape as he was quickly wrapped into Paikuhan’s ultimate attack powered three times over and sent slamming into the ground. Shortly afterwards, everything went dark.

Vegeta watched as Goku disappeared into the shower of fire then crash into the ground not to get up again. Clumsy… Vegeta thought as he looked back up at Koola whose attention had returned to him once again. The Saiyan powered up and flew up to meet his new opponent in midair. The Ice-jin studied him for several seconds making no effort to move or attack.

“Prepared to meet up with your dear little brat of a brother?” Vegeta shot at him as Koola’s sudden eerie calmness began irritate him.

The Ice-jin prince chuckled in response. “Vegeta…” he started, his voice dangerously low. “Let me introduce you to what pain is all about.”

Before Vegeta could respond, Koola powered up, his ki gathering all around him. Several seconds later, Vegeta sensed a dramatic spike in the Ice-jin’s ki and looked on as his body transformed one last time. The Saiyan hissed in anger as he witnessed for the first time the next level of Ice-jin power. Koola seemed to triple in size as his body armor and physical frame increased several times over. Even his carapace morphed into a helmet-like horned frill that allowed only the two red slits of his eyes as a visible feature on his face.

Once the transformation was over, Koola didn’t allow Vegeta a moment more to take in the changes choosing instead to barrage him with a series of brutal attacks. Vegeta could not find a way to defend himself as Koola’s higher form seem to come at him from all sides at once. Several minutes later, the carnage was momentarily over as Koola allowed Vegeta to crash land on the ground after a particularly powerful energy blast.

Vegeta managed to rise to his knees as he gasped for breath. In a few brief minutes, Koola had wounded him to the same extent that his fusion had earlier, and he had not been able to attack him once. He swore and powered up again refusing to give in without a fight, but before he could stand, he was forced face down into the cold ground as the Ice-jin prince buried a clawed foot into his back. Vegeta held back the sudden urge to cry out in pain as he felt the ground crack and crumble beneath him under the pressure of Koola crushing him into the earth.

Relief came briefly as Koola stepped back and picked him up by his neck bringing Vegeta up to meet his eyes.

“Are you willing to beg for death now, or should I continue?” Koola spoke increasing his hold on Vegeta’s neck allowing just enough air to pass into his lungs to keep him alive.

Too weak to try to free himself from Koola’s iron grip, Vegeta simply laughed. “I will not… give you that pleasure,” he managed. “Face it. Your brother and father are dead… There’s nothing you can do to bring them back. You will never be able to take that away from me!”

For a moment, Vegeta thought Koola would simply snap his neck and be over with it, but to his surprise, the Ice-jin simply chuckled.

“Maybe,” Koola responded. “But I can take away from you just about everything else.” Vegeta stared at the Ice-jin in confusion as Koola continued. “You will die, monkey, and then I will exterminate your family. I will torture them until they beg for death and curse the day you were born. Then I will rip them to shreds and spread their remains to the four corners of my kingdom. I will be sure anyone who ever looked upon you meets the same, horrific end.” He paused for a fraction of a second. Just long enough for Vegeta to feel himself go cold with dread.

“Yes, you will die Vegeta,” the Ice-jin prince continued. “But so will they. What I’ve done to you will look like child’s play compared to the fate that awaits them.”

Vegeta’s eyes widened in panic, but before he could respond, the Ice-jin punched his midriff tearing through his skin and bone with his fist and emerging on his back side.

“Don’t worry,” Koola told him as he pulled his arm out of his body and released him causing him to crumble onto his knees. “I will be sure to tell the how the proud Prince of the Saiyans died: on his knees before his King.” The now Ice-jin King picked him up again after several seconds.

“Give my regards to King Enma,” he said finally before tossing Vegeta into the air and firing a ki blast that incinerated his body to ashes. With Vegeta dead, Koola didn’t waste a second before powering up and taking off to fulfill his oath.

 ~oOo~

Exhausted from the ordeal, but still exhilarated from his victory, Ailill allowed himself to slump onto the ground. He smiled to himself as he looked up and saw the portal he had created strengthen and grow. Granted, he knew it was not as impressive as the one that had been originally created by him and his brother, but it was more than he could have hoped for under the circumstances. He had done his part, now it was up to the warriors of Earth to do theirs.

“Congratulations.”

Suddenly aware of the familiar presence, Ailill turned in the direction of the voice and stood. Just a few meters away, his twin brother stood looking up at the portal that had been created from their power.

“You’ve managed to stabilize it and divide your attention,” he continued casually. “I’m impressed.”

Ailill stared at him momentarily not sure how to respond. This was the first time in ages that his brother was addressing him directly. Coran looked calm, more than he had the right to be all things considered. He also seemed to have recuperated from his previous ordeals. His twin brother looked at the portal for another few seconds before turning towards him.

“What made you think I wouldn’t,” said Ailill finally.

Coran shrugged. “The magic that it calls upon isn’t exactly entirely benign. You’ve never had the stomach for this sort of thing before.  I suppose I didn’t think you had it in you. Then again, you’ve always been able to catch up quick.”

Ailill glared at his brother, but he knew Coran was right. Of the two of them, Coran had always been the most talented, and the most ambitious. Once a long time ago, he had been there to compliment and help him where his skill had momentarily lacked. Ailill’s glare softened as he looked at the younger twin. It had not always been like this… They had not always been enemies. Coran looked away from him and Ailill instinctively followed his gaze. What he found made him take an involuntary step backwards. Somehow, their surroundings had completely changed. No longer were they at the Ice-jin planet, instead he could recognize the inside of the temple he had grown up in on his home world. He looked back at Coran wondering if he could see the same thing, but from his expression, Ailill couldn’t really tell. His eyes seemed frozen at some point in the vision, but he couldn’t tell if he perceived where he was.

Ailill heard someone murmur to his right and turned towards the source of the sound. He felt his heart break by what he found. There, just several feet away, twin children were kneeling one in front of the other, their attention concentrated on the group of crystals spheres before them.

That had been them...

Once upon a time when they had been innocent and young…

Ailill looked on as slowly, one by one all the glass spheres began to levitate and circle around the pair of children.

“You did it!” young Coran cried out happily.

Child Ailill opened his eyes and began to laugh as he found the glass balls orbiting around them. “It did it…” he whispered. “I did it!”

They were quickly surrounded by their mentors and aids who congratulated the eldest twin at his most recent achievement. Several minutes later, they were alone again, the glass spheres resting on the floor.

“Coran?” Ailill said to his brother who was picking up the orbs and returning them to their case. “Wasn’t that cheating? I mean, did I really do it?”

“Of course you did,” responded Coran. “The balls flew, didn’t they?”

“Yes. But you helped me,” Ailill retorted.

Coran finished putting the balls away before he turned towards his older brother. “So? That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? That’s why we’re learning this together, so we can help each other, right?”

“Yes…” Ailill replied dubiously. “But wasn’t I supposed to do that on my own?”

Child Coran rolled his eyes and grinned mischievously. “You worry too much, silly, did you know that? We are in this together. We were chosen to train together because we need each other. So what if I helped you now? Later on, when I need help with something and you’re better, you’ll help me.” He tucked the chest the spheres under one arm and extended his free hand to help his sibling up.

Young Ailill smiled and took his hand. “That will be the day,” he said rising to his feet. “But yes, if that time ever comes. I’ll do what I can to help.”

“You know I will have to close it, right?”

The vision ended as abruptly as it had begun as Coran’s words made Ailill focus once again on the present. Ailill looked at his brother and narrowed his eyes. Had he experienced the vision as well? If so, Coran gave no signs of being affected by it or even having witnessed what he had just seen. He seemed so cold and distant. Once, he had been able to second guess his brother’s every emotion, every feeling before the other had been fully aware of them. Now… This person before him was completely unknown.

Ailill shook his head. “I can’t let you do that,” he spoke finally. He felt himself grow cold as he understood the full meaning of what he had just said. Yet it had to be done. He had to undo the horrors that had come from his folly.

Coran nodded. “So be it,” he spoke softly.

Ailill braced himself as in a matter of several seconds, his brother summoned the fullness of his magical ki. Coran was engulfed by a curtain of fire that at first burned a dark red, then changed the spectrum of colors until it became a deep blue. Ailill recognized Coran powering up to a maximum and didn’t waste another instant to power up as well, having no desire to experience the full wrath of his brother’s magic unprotected by his own.

Coran’s first spell was fierce. His voice echoed throughout their surroundings as his magical aura began to spin around him rapidly.

Ailill quickly began chanting a counter spell to shield himself from the gargantuan flaming bird that had detached itself from his brother’s ki and was now on his way to ram into him. He shut his eyes and braced himself at the impact and felt as a thousand flaming arrows tried to break his defenses.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, my Lord. They carry no weapons with them.”

Ailill looked up and found himself elsewhere, once again. This time he was in the palace of Konack-sei.

Another vision.

Before him were the deceased King of his world, some advisors, and both his brother and he now decades older than in his previous vision.

“My Lord,” Coran spoke up. “When it comes to people like these, they are the weapons themselves. Their flagship may be in orbit, the Ice-jin General that identified himself earlier did stay behind, and they may seem helpless enough, but I can assure you, they are not all Ambassadors.”

“How many are they?” Ailill asked.

“Just three,” one of the aids replied. “Two males and a female. Lady Dalia identified herself as the Ambassador and her companions as her escort: Lord Zarbon and Lord Sauza. ”

The Konack-jin king considered this several seconds before responding. “Ask her to please leave her escort behind. I will take no chances with this.”

Ailill saw the aid take a quick bow and leave the throne room.

“I knew this would happen sooner or later,” the young King said. “Too many worlds have fallen into their control.”

“At least they’ve proceeded diplomatically with us and not invaded straight out as has been the case for several systems,” Ailill pointed out.

“We will do all we can to protect you, my Lord,” Coran added. “Have no doubt of that.”

They waited for a few minutes, and then the aid returned with an escort of palace guards, Dalia following. She had been a sight to behold. On their first meeting she had looked unnaturally beautiful, her behavior, speech and etiquette in complete concordance with the situation and the role she had been playing. Little had they known at the time that she was the most dangerous weapon the Ice-jin had to offer. Beneath the façade of innocence and sugarcoated words was a cold-blooded assassin and an expert infiltrator. They had all been too easily deceived.

“Do you believe what she proposed, your Majesty?” Ailill said after the Dalia had left and they had been left alone in the throne room.

“An alliance between us and them?” the King responded dubiously. “I’m not sure. What do we have to offer? Unlike the Saiyan king of Vegeta-sei, our people are not mercenaries for hire. We are an old race, but not what would be called ‘warriors’ by anyone’s standards. It is in your Order our strength lies, but few know about this. What could the Ice-jin possibly want with that?”

“I’m not sure I’d trust the Glai’keel-jin into any sort of alliance knowing what they are capable of,” said Coran. “We need to know more about their intentions.”

The Konack-jin king nodded looking thoughtful. “We said we’d meet again during the evening meal. I’d like the two of you to be present then as well. Until that time, we have a lot to think about.” The twins nodded then took a quick bow as their King exited the room.

“You liked her,” Ailill told Coran once they found themselves alone in the throne room. Their psychic bond was strong enough for most of their conversation to occur silently making it impossible to be over heard.

“Yes, so did you,” his twin responded.

“True, but you are better at foreign negotiations than I am,” Ailill pointed out. “Last time I nearly caused and interplanetary incident, remember?” They were both now walking out of the throne room away from the Ailill of the present.

“She was married,” Coran said with a sly smile. “You were the only one in the room that missed the fact that the Ambassador was her husband. I think they took it easy on you.”

“Don’t remind me,” he answered with a shudder. “But, that’s just my point,” he continued. “Go to her. Find out what it is the Ice-jin really want with us. I’ll feel better about a decision once we find out all we can about this strange proposal of Lady Dalia’s. We-”

The second attack came, shattering the vision and knocking Ailill from his feet.

“Damn…” he muttered mentally cursing himself for allowing himself to have become so distracted, this time of past events to take care his present. He looked at his brother and saw that his silhouette looked blurry behind the wall of his ki, the only part that was clear was his eyes as they glowed a bright white that clashed with the blue of his surroundings.

“I will not allow this nightmare to continue!” he told himself rising to his feet in determination. Though he hated what he had to do, the past was gone. Now he had to protect the future of a million lives by defeating someone he had once loved dearly. “So be it!” he muttered as he reached deep into himself for the power needed to conjure his own magic. Focusing all the power of the spell he was mustering on his twin brother, he allowed it to flow from him.
“This…REALLY… Sucks!”

Trunks battered the sides of his magical prison in vain. To say that he was tired of being bested by Coran’s same spell over and over again would have been the understatement of the century. Furious and powered up to his maximum, he vented his frustrations on the magical cube. Suddenly, it melted away and his punch went wide as his constraint disappeared. Startled, Trunks looked at his immediate surroundings not understanding what had just happened.

“I guess he’s losing power…” he mused once it sank in he was free. He looked in Coran’s general direction and grimaced by what he found. “Or… maybe not…”

“Trunks!”

Trunks spun in the direction of the voice to find Gohan flying towards him.

“Run!”

Not understanding why at first, but trusting his older friend, Trunks moved out of the way milliseconds before Koola imposing form crushed the space he had previously occupied.

“Oh shit!” Trunks exclaimed suddenly realizing the danger he was in and flying away as quickly as he could. Koola didn’t waste a second in blasting after him and would have caught up had Gohan not intercepted him before he could. Trunks risked a backwards glance to see Koola swat Gohan away with the same ease any normal human would a fly or other small insect.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…” he cursed while frantically looking around for his father or Goku and not finding them.

“Trunks! Over here!”

This time it was Piccolo calling out to him. The young demi-Saiyan wasted no time in changing his course to meet up with him.

“What’s going on?” he asked upon arrival.

Piccolo was floating in the air, his arms crossed over his chest and a stern expression on his face. There was hesitation surrounding his form, as if he had something to say but didn’t want to, or know how to say it. Trunks frowned in irritation.

“Piccolo,” he said. “Where’s my dad? He was fighting Freeza a little while ago, I saw him.”

“Freeza’s gone,” Piccolo stated carefully. “Vegeta got him through the portal.”

Trunks’ face broke out into a huge grin. “I knew he’d do it!” Piccolo’s serious expression still didn’t change and Trunks’ smiled faltered. His eyes narrowed in an unconscious imitation of his father’s own glare. “Piccolo, spit it out. Where’s my dad?”

More hesitation. Then, “Koola killed him.”

Piccolo had never been one to beat around the bush. The words reached Trunks’ ears immediately, but the meaning took a few seconds to sink in. A sudden sense of déjà vu settled over him and he remembered another time, just a few years before, when he had been delivered similar news. His father was dead again. His body felt abruptly cold, a sense of rage bubbling in the pit of his stomach and threatening to spill from his throat like bile. Piccolo was still standing in front of him, but the image was distorted now through Trunks’ unfocused glare.

“Trunks?”

It was Piccolo’s voice again. Trunks ignored him and instead turned his back to the Namekian, scanning the horizon with his sharp senses in an attempt to spot the creature responsible for his father’s demise. The rage was still bubbling within, fueling his hatred, making the adrenaline pump wildly through his veins. He was thriving on the feeling, the sense of clarity he was finally having. Only one thought was in his mind now: revenge. Koola would pay for what he did.

There he was. Gohan, already weak from his own previous fights, was barely holding his own against gigantic the Ice-jin. Koola seemed amused by the fight, as if it was merely a fun warm up exercise in preparation for a more serious event to follow. Trunks watched calmly as Koola landed a hard upper-cut to Gohan’s chin, making the Saiyan fly back against a rocky hill and then slump to the ground. Gohan’s head moved slightly as he groaned and tried to pull himself up unsuccessfully. Trunks’ eyes zeroed in on Koola, his face an icy visage of hatred. Knowing Gohan would not be getting up again for a while, the Ice-jin then turned his gaze towards the lavender haired demi-Sayain. Trunks’ sensitive ears picked up a distant voice calling his name, this time sounding vaguely like his mother’s, but he ignored it, focusing instead on his enemy. Koola’s eyes met his and the Glai’keel-sei prince curved his lips in a twisted imitation of a smile.

Without a single word, Trunks threw his head back and let out a howling scream. His aura ignited in an instant as a bright flash of blue and yellow swirled around him savagely. The smug look on Koola’s face changed to one of surprise as the young boy charged him in full Super Saiyan form. He hardly had time to react before Trunks was on him in a rage, throwing flurry after flurry of punches and kicks. Koola was instantly on the defensive, parrying one attack before the next one came without a single chance to being his own assault. But the element of surprise didn’t last very long. Within a few minutes, Koola had gathered his bearings and was using some of his own attacks. The calm ire that had previously taken over Trunks was gone, replaced with a desperate need to gain the upper hand and take his revenge. Koola was using that to his advantage.

Trunks had managed to bring Koola closer to the swirling vortex that was the portal to hell, but it was not close enough still.

“I imagine your father will have a lovely time seeing you in hell soon,” Koola commented, a hint of glee in his voice.

Trunks didn’t respond. Instead, he ducked a punch and reached down to grab a hold of Koola’s ankle with the intent of swinging him towards the portal. He was still holding on, pulling Koola back towards him for leverage, when the Ice-jin giant brought his other foot down crashing on the side of Trunks’ waist, making him promptly let go with a cry of pain. Koola dove at him, slamming an arm across the boy’s midriff causing the latter to slam back towards the ground. The demi-Saiyan hit the hard rock with a crash, leaving a Trunks-sized dent on the ground where his body landed. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear his mother’s voice again calling out to him in alarm. He held up a two finger peace sign in that general direction as he lifted his arms to pull himself up. Koola was already gathering a finishing attack when Trunks felt himself get swooped up in a flash and moved out of the way. The powerful flash of ki hit the spot where Trunks had just been.

“Maybe you should pick on someone your own size,” a new voice sounded from above him when they stopped moving. Trunks turned his head sharply in surprise. Holding him as they hovered just a few feet in the air was Son Goku. The Saiyan’s powerful aura glowed brightly around him, pulsating rapidly with agitation. His now golden hair was extended past his waist in long thick strands and his narrowed eyes were settled intently on Koola. Trunks couldn’t remember the last time he had seen the older Saiyan look so serious.

“Goku!” the demi-Saiyan called out. “He ki—” The words caught in his throat and he found he couldn’t repeat what Piccolo had told him about Vegeta. The rage was entirely gone now, replaced with a vast feeling of emptiness. Would he even see his father ever again this time? Was this the end of Vegeta?

Goku seemed to understand regardless. Without taking his eyes from Koola, he responded, “I know. It’ll be okay.”

His words offered little in the way of comfort, but Trunks appreciated the gesture. Goku set him down on the ground again and levitated higher to come face to face with the remaining member of the Ice-jin royal family.

“What a treat,” Koola said. “Today I get to kill three…” He paused and glanced at the spot where Gohan still lay on the ground unmoving. “… make that four monkeys with one stone. So to speak.”

Goku was now holding up his arms in his customary defensive stance, prepared to counter any attack Koola might have up his sleeve. The Ice-jin’s arms were hanging loosely at his side, a small ki ball forming slowly over his right palm. Goku was eyeing it warily as he tried to determine what Koola was planning to do with it. The prince lifted the hand slowly and without any warning, tossed a disarming ki blast with his left hand instead. Goku felt, rather than saw, the beam coming and dodged out of its way easily. The ki ball on Koola’s right hand followed closely behind as Goku managed to duck out of its way as well. In front of him, the Saiyan could see the giant swirling portal just waiting for the next inhabitant of hell to cross. Realizing that Koola was baiting him closer to it, he immediately changed course and turned back toward the creature.

Goku reached him quickly, his fist held above his shoulder as if prepared to land it on Koola as soon as he reached him. But Koola knew better. No competent warrior ever attacked a foe with his next move clearly displayed in advance. The Ice-jin’s body was tensed, eyeing the full blooded Saiyan warily as he got closer, trying to determine from his subtle body language which way he was going to attack. At the last second, he dodged right as Goku’s leg shot out to kick Koola. Unfazed, Goku interlocked the fingers from both hands together to form a single fist, brought it over his head and down on Koola’s back. It connected, causing the Ice-jin to fall towards the portal at high speed. He caught himself before he could come too close and turned back around in an instant.

Not hesitating, Goku summoned the full extent of his ki with a loud roar. Koola’s eyes widened in shock at the awesome display of power as he momentarily forgot just how close he had gotten to the portal. As the transformation finished, Goku didn’t hesitate and lunged at Koola. To the untrained naked eye, it would have looked like the Saiyan had disappeared from his previous spot and rematerialized in front of the Glai’keel-sei prince. Before Koola could react, Goku had summoned a ki blast and aimed it at his chest. Koola’s face twisted in outrage and he attempted to dodge, but the blast managed to hit his left shoulder. The Ice-jin cried out in pain and reached up with his right hand to cradle the injured spot.

“This is it, Koola,” Goku called out. “Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.”

Before Koola could respond Goku pumped his fist in the air. “DRAGON FIRE!” he yelled.

Within seconds, a whirl of pure power surged from the raised fist. The yellow energy immediately transformed into a golden dragon, long and thin, a pair of long whiskers and fearsome look decorating its face. The dragon swirled around, spinning in the air as it shot straight forward. It was all Koola could do contain his shock as the dragon headed directly toward him. He didn’t have time to shake himself out of his stupor as the creature pummeled straight through the Glai’kil-sei prince’s stomach. The brunt of the attack was enough to push him into the portal’s gravity pull. He kicked his feet and swished his thick tail in the air as he struggled against the dragon’s inertia and the portal’s pull.

It was done.
Ailill blasted away the icy daggers that had attempted to embed themselves into his skin. The projectiles exploded with the force of his attack, falling around him like a fine, powdery snow. For a moment, everything was still around him as he ignored the rest of the world and focused on his brother.

Coran was a display of pure energy.

He could barely distinguish his twin’s figure within the storm of his ki as he levitated above the ground. Coran was an otherworldly spectacle. Only his eyes were easily distinguished, they glowed in a bright shade of white. His aura seemed to have taken a life of its own, twirling violently around him like some giant, out of control monster with tentacles flailing around clutching at the air. It almost looked like his sibling was trapped in the belly of a great beast that was seeking to devour everything within reach.

Ailill took a deep breath attempting to calm himself. Coran was unrelenting to the point of his own destruction. He was determined to shut the portal down at all cost, even if he had to sacrifice his life in the process. The tenacity and aggressiveness of his attacks was almost overwhelming. Electricity cackled and shrieked around him as the dark mage gathered his strength once again to attack. Ailill knew he didn’t have much time. Coran was determined to take them both down in the process to ensure his Master’s victory.

If Coran succeeded, Koola would remain in this world… His reign of terror would continue… all would be lost…

Desperately, Ailill looked around for a solution. It was then that he noticed Trunk’s sword laying several meters away where Videl had dropped it as she had fled the altar area what seemed like lifetimes earlier. That sword had not always been Trunk’s… In a fraction of a second, he was reminded of the significance the heirloom had to his people. Thousands of years of traditions flashed into his mind. Theirs was the duty and honor to mediate between this world and the next. Theirs was the burden... His was the responsibility to set things right.

He would not let himself fail, not again.

This sword has been forged with a purpose… Ailill clenched his jaw, snapping back to attention. He made a mad dash for the ancient relic, narrowly avoiding the shower of serpentine lightning that swarmed the spot he had just stood on, blasting away a chunk of the planet’s surface. He picked up the weapon.

It reacted to him.

Ailill gasped as he felt a mild electric current surge through his body. He couldn’t explain it, but somehow he knew the sword was aware of his intentions. He looked back at Coran. His brother had not physically moved, but the energy tendrils of his ki had shifted, following his whereabouts. It wrapped around him like a suit of armor, protecting its host as it charged up for another attack. Aillil clutched the sword tightly as yet another wave of electric fire surged at him. The ancient sword began to glow as if sensing the impending danger. He held it up in front of him defensively and prepared himself for what he knew would be a brutal attack.

He was gone again.

This time, he found himself in a dimly lit room. The only illumination was provided by half a dozen candles in various locations. He quickly recognized the place: he was standing inside what had once been his brother’s bedroom chambers on their home planet of Konack-sei. It didn’t take long for him to find his twin. Coran was lying in bed, playing idly with Dalia’s long, silky hair. The Princess of Zainu was leaning her head against his brother’s chest. From his vantage point, Ailill couldn’t really tell if she was asleep or awake. He felt himself flush with anger. He had known of his younger brother’s infatuation with the alien Princess, but it angered him to be reminded this was the reason for their initial severance.

Coran had once confided everything in him and this had been the one exception. As expected for such a high level spy, Dalia looked delicate, frail, beautiful… Their most lethal weapon indeed, Ailill thought bitterly. How easily we were played. The intimacy of the moment infuriated him. Why had his brother kept this from him? They had always shared everything… consulted everything. Why did this change? Did Coran think he would not approve? Ailill considered the thought. Of course he wouldn’t have! He had always worried that this is what would happen. They had no way of telling if anything she had said was true. The Ice-jin could not be trusted. It was a lesson history had learned for them.

“I know you don’t want to talk about this,” Dalia spoke up suddenly into his thoughts. Apparently she was awake after all. Looking up at Coran, she continued. “But it’s been almost a year. I need to provide Lord Koola with an answer.”

Coran looked away clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. Dalia looked at him for several seconds before gently turning his head back towards her.

“I will not be able to stall forever,” she continued. “They believe I have spent enough time on this planet. They are growing ever impatient…”

“That’s just the problem,” Coran said sitting up and pulling away from her. “This all feels like a threat. This takes time. How can I convince my people otherwise if the Ice-jin can’t wait…”

Ailill took a step forwards, trying to better make out their expressions. Dalia looked concerned. She sat up next to Coran and leaned against his bare back. She wrapped her arms around his torso and placed her chin on his shoulder, pulling herself closer to him. They sat for several minutes in silence.

Ailill looked away annoyed. He wondered as to the origin of the visions. Why was he seeing them? Why those particular moments? Why then? Clearly, he had not been present for this particular event in his brother’s past, so why was he being a witness to it now?

“This is not going to work,” his brother spoke into his thoughts finally. “Ailill and the King will not easily sway in their decision. Pressure from your leaders will not change their mind. They believe joining the Ice-jin is too risky. We have too much to lose. They are known to be fickle and that an alliance with them would eventually lead my people to submission under their rule.” He sighed and lay back down. “At least that is what my brother believes... That is what everyone here secretly believes.”

With good reason! Ailill wanted to shout out. Can’t you see what she is doing? What this has cost us… The words died in his throat. The vision went on, oblivious to his presence. Dalia waited for a moment before joining his brother lying back down and cradling her head in the nook of his neck and shoulder.

“Come with me…”

“What?”

Coran sat up again and stared at her as if not believing he had heard her correctly. Dalia rose up to lean on her elbow, but did not look at him directly choosing instead to look down.

“I will not be allowed to return,” she told him. Ailill could hear sadness in her voice, but was unwilling to believe it was genuine. “Once your government rejects my Masters’ offer, I will be called back-”

“I can’t leave,” Coran interrupted. “You know that. These are my people, my world… I can’t abandon them… Not even…” He didn’t finish. Because of the poor lighting, Ailill couldn’t make out either of their expressions, but he could almost feel the sudden tension between them.

“Of course not,” Dalia said finally. “I just thought… I don’t know, if you could come and meet with them yourself… If you could show your people that their intensions are honorable… Perhaps then, maybe your brother would listen. I know that if you could convince him, the High Priest, the King and his advisers would follow.”

Ailill could tell that Coran was considering her words.

Don’t! he screamed in his head… but no one could hear him. He was alone, lost inside a vision of the past he could never change.

Before he could hear his brother’s answer, the vision ended. Ailill was in battle once again. He barely had enough time to acknowledge his surroundings before his twin’s attack slammed into him. This time, however, the sword took the blunt of the attack spell. Ailill watched, almost in disbelief, as the ancient weapon somehow not only blocked Coran’s attack, but absorbed it. He began to shake under the strain of holding it. Somehow, the blade was taking his twin brother’s attack and transforming it into energy that it was inexplicably feeding to him. The spell finished and he felt completely exhilarated: his senses sharpened and he felt his strength return to him. He looked down at the sword, then back up at his brother.

Finally, he understood: Coran was dying. Somehow, perhaps because it took the joining of both their energies to open the portal or maybe because one of them was close to death, their psychic bond had been partially reconnected. Tapion’s sword was now acting like a catalyst, doing what it had been designed for: keep balance between the powers that ruled their world.  

Now he knew what he had to do.

Ailill whispered a spell and circled himself with his ki. It felt warm and oddly comforting as it blew his hair away from his face. With a second spell, he charged the sword. Coran summoned another attack, releasing another surge of hellish force in his direction. Once again, his sword absorbed the attack and injected its energy into him. Ailill took a deep breath, allowing himself a few moments to assimilate this new power. It felt natural to him, like something he had lost long ago and had now found. He closed his eyes.

In a fraction of a second, he charged at Coran. The sacred sword ripped through all of the other mage’s defenses as he sank the blade deep into his brother’s chest. Coran collapsed into his arms as the sword began to drain him. Their auras violently combined as Tapion’s sword transferred Coran’s essence to him. They were both quickly enveloped in a maelstrom of light and energy.

Forgive me… Ailill thought. It tore him apart to see his once beloved brother in agony. For years he had felt that he was partially to blame for him leaving. He had always wondered if perhaps there had been anything he could have done to save their relationship, if it had not just been the Ice-jin that had destroyed what they had once shared. To his surprise, Coran looked up at him, making eye contact.

Is that what you really want? He could hear his brother’s voice inside his head over the roar of their kis. Ailill was taken aback by the sheer hatred he felt seeping from his twin. I thought you have always wanted to destroy what you could not control, Coran continued. You disposed of me when I no longer was your puppet, when my power was no longer yours to manipulate.

That is not true! Ailill exclaimed. We were a team! We were meant to serve together.

As long as I remained in your shadow, Coran retorted. As long as you decided what was best for us. The instant I did not do as you pleased you tried to kill me, but it did not work. What makes you think that I would not hate you?

Ailill could feel his brother’s life force weaken. Coran held his gaze every second of it.

Be careful, Coran finished. Taking what is not rightfully yours can have dire consequences you could not even imagine…

Ailill did not know how to respond. Coran was slipping quickly and was soon no longer able to answer. All he could clearly decipher was his twin brother’s deep seeded hatred towards him. Eventually, this also began to melt away. What was left was the images that were flashing into his twin brother’s mind, a trail of memories he could see as visions.

“Kill him.”

The familiar Ice-jin voice brought forth the final vision

“I beg you, my Lord,” Dalia’s voice echoed in his mind. “Give me some time. I swear he will be ready.”

Dalia’s face was inches from the floor where she was bowing on her knees. Before her was Freeza, looking not at her, but to the far corner of the room. There Ailill saw Coran. His brother was on the floor grasping his head with both hands and writhing as if in great pain. He was covered in bruises and scratches, his clothing was blood stained and torn. Ailill quickly recognized that all of that had been self-inflicted. His appearance was absolutely mad as he convulsed on the ground mumbling to himself.

I did this… he realized suddenly.

“Sweet Dalia,” Freeza spoke, lifting Dalia’s face from the floor with the tip of his tail so that she was looking up at him. “I find your compassion for the creature adorable, but really, you have wasted enough time on this. I have need of you. Dispose of it and meet me at the Gamma station in three days. I will brief you for the mission personally.”

“Please…” Dalia pleaded. “I know he will be a great asset! I beg you, spare his life.”

“Begging is unbecoming of your rank, my little princess” the Ice-jin prince continued, his voice still almost casually coy. “I will not have it from you. If you will not follow my orders, I’ll simply have to discipline you severely. It really is that simple.” There was just enough veiled threat his tone to make it clear to anyone that this topic was not up for debate. He motioned for one of the guards posted at the entrance of the cell they were in.

“Take the creature to Ginyu. Tell him to use it in a training exercise or something… Whatever he has the most fun with.”

“No!” Dalia looked absolutely desperate. She made a move to intercept the guards, but Freeza grabbed her by the arm and threw her to the other side of the room. She must have hit the wall hard because Ailill noticed a stream of silver blood ooze down her neck from her head.

“How dare you!” Freeza entire complexion changed in a fraction of a second. He looked beyond furious as he stalked towards her. For a moment Ailill wondered if Freeza would simply kill her on the spot. “If I decide the filthy beast dies, it dies and you will accept that and you will obey me!”

“Freeza!”

It was then that Ailill notice Koola. He must have been standing in the room, but had not spoken until now.

“What!” Freeza retorted in annoyance. He paused and glared at his older brother.

“Think about what you are about to do,” Koola responded coolly. “Do you really want to waste our resources and make an example out of her with no one to benefit from your instruction?”

Freeza continued to glare at him for several moments then appeared to relax.

“Of course,” the younger prince said finally. “Waste not, want not and all that. And she is a pretty little thing.” The younger Ice-jin prince’s tone sent chills down Ailill’s back.

“I suppose I can give her the benefit of the doubt…” Freeza continued, glancing back to where Dalia had fallen. She still looked stunned, but somehow had managed to once again bow prostrate. “You have one week,” he finished. “I expect to see you in Gamma station in seven days. If you have not sorted his sanity by then, he will die and you…” Freeza paused for a moment and smiled as if enjoying the thought of what he would do to her. “Well, just make sure you find his mind again.”

With that he spun around and walked out of the cell motioning for the escort of guards to follow. Only Dalia, Coran, and Koola were left in the room.

“Thank you, my Lord,” Dalia whispered, still bowing. Her voice trembled as she spoke.

“Don’t disappoint Freeza again,” Koola warned her. He looked at Coran curiously for a moment longer, then spun around and followed his younger brother out of the room.

Dalia was left alone. She picked herself up and stumbled to the corner where Coran was still convulsing as if in a seizure.

“It’s OK,” she whispered, cradling him in her arms. “You’re safe with me, we can figure this out.”

“Please…” Coran moaned. He touched her face, doing anything he could to connect with her. “Kill me... Make it stop…”

“Don’t say things like that,” Dalia answered, pushing some of his sweat damped hair away from his face. She took his hand into hers and kissed it gently. “We’ll be alright…” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she held him, rocking him back and forth as she would have a child.

“Why… did he…” Coran was having problems forming words. “Why…?”

Ailill felt something inside him break. When he had ruptured the mage bond with his brother, his people had been there for him. He had never been gripped by this kind of madness; he had never been alone in a hostile environment… His mind was flooded with a mixture of emotions he could not describe. Some were his own, others… they must have been Coran’s, but he could no longer separate the two.

He felt something in his spirit shift. Ailill found himself no longer witnessing the vision, now he was experiencing the memory first hand. Somehow, he was the one now in Dalia’s arms as the world appeared to fall apart around him. He was now the one finding a strange comfort being held by someone he thought he had loathed…but now…

As suddenly as it had started, the vision ended. Ailill screamed as he felt a sudden increase in the intensity of the power he was absorbing. He could no longer see Coran in his arms, or anything else around him. He was completely engulfed in a storm of light and energy as it quickly reached its climax. He thought the forces around him would rip him apart, but somehow, he was holding together. Just when he believed he could not hold on to consciousness any longer, the storm calmed and disappeared.

Ailill fell to his knees, gasping for breath. Everything felt suddenly still all around him as the gale of the brothers’ powers passed. He was left alone holding only Tapion’s sword in his hand and feeling completely dazed. Ailill looked around, but all traces of his brother where gone. The only thing he had left was a chain of memories and emotions he didn’t quite understand. He felt so numb…

Above him the portal to the afterlife glowed, casting an eerie illumination on the frozen, barren landscape. He stretched out with his highly sensitive senses.

Both Ice-jin princes were gone.

“It’s over…” Ailill whispered. For a fraction of a second, he felt anger, but that was quickly replaced with an overwhelming feeling of happiness. “It’s finally over…”

He looked up at the portal and willed it to begin to close. Immediately the void began to get smaller and smaller until it disappeared altogether from the dark sky. He stared at the spot the portal had been seconds earlier, surprised at how easy it had come under his control now. Why had it been so hard before? His mind felt muddled, completely overwhelmed by what just happened.

“Finally,” Ailill murmured to himself. “There will be peace.” He allowed himself to fall back, simply staring up at the clearing sky. His body began to tingle slightly as it assimilated Coran’s power. His sensitive ears picked up voices somewhere close by, but Ailill chose to ignore them, taking the moment to revel in this victory. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.

Welcome home… he thought, but he was not quite sure why.

Four months later…

Bulma took a deep breath, her hands wringing together in a nervous fidget. She was at Kami’s Lookout along with the rest of the Z fighters, surrounding a set of seven dragonballs the size of soccer balls. They glowed softly as Dende, standing directly before them, began to speak the familiar Namekian words that they had all come to recognize as the incantation to summon the dragon Porunga.

After Ailill had managed to close the portal to the afterlife and effectively seal Freeza, Koola, and Kold back in hell, the entire alien ice planet they had occupied had suddenly gone eerily silent. Everyone had stood around in complete shock, nobody daring to even breathe for fear it would cause a whole new onslaught of enemies to come out of nowhere to attack. Krillin and Gohan had been out cold from their respective fights and Dende had hurried to heal them enough to bring them back to consciousness. His powers had been drained from all the other healing he had already done throughout the day and even the partial energy he had provided the two warriors had taken a lot out of the young Namekian guardian.

Bulma herself had stood in place, absolutely dumbstruck from the events she had witnessed. One minute she had been watching her husband gain the upper hand on Freeza before had gotten distracted with commotion going on elsewhere. When she had looked again shortly thereafter, she had found both of them gone. She had then watched as Koola took flight towards her son and flinched in alarm when Gohan had warned him to run at the last second. It had taken every last bit of willpower within her to avoid the motherly instinct that screamed at her to run to Trunks to protect him. It was an absurd notion for her to even imagine she could do anything to help her unbelievably powerful half-Saiyan son, but motherly instincts had a funny way of ignoring logic. The even larger instinct to protect her newborn daughter had eventually managed to take over and force her to stay in place.

It had been a relief to watch Goku finish off Koola, but the awful feeling growing in the pit of her stomach over the fact that she had yet to see Vegeta anywhere near the battles only grew bigger and bigger. When Goku had solemnly informed her that her husband had perished against Koola, the dull feeling of dread had turned into a knife stabbing through her heart. She couldn’t stop the sob that had erupted from her throat at the thought that, yet again, Vegeta was no longer with them. Her heart ached at the thought of their daughter never meeting her father. She had gathered Trunks in a one-armed hug while holding her daughter with her other arm and sobbed uncontrollably.

Goku had been quick to reassure her that they could wish him back using the Namekian dragonballs. Vegeta had already died twice before, and while the dragonballs Dende had created for Earth could only bring someone back to life once, the Namekian dragonballs had no such restriction. The thought had briefly comforted her until she remembered that the Namekian dragonballs had just been used and they would have to wait another 130 Earth days, the equivalent of one Namekian year, to use them again. Additionally, it would require traveling to the planet of New Namek in order to gather them. She didn’t want to have to wait to see her husband again. All she wanted to do was hold him in her arms, go home, and enjoy their new daughter together peacefully. She couldn’t believe that Vegeta would now be missing the first few months of both his son and his daughter’s lives.

Trunks, on the other hand, had visibly brightened at the news. For his sake, Bulma had put on a big smile and nodded in acceptance.

To the group’s incredible surprise and relief, they had also encountered Paikuhan and Kaioshin, the two creatures who had been fused with Koola and Freeza respectively. The two men had been lying unconscious nearby, unseen by the rest of the Z fighters until the chaos had settled down. Upon awakening and hearing what had happened, Kaioshin had deduced that, upon entering hell, their bodies must have been instantly ripped away from the Ice-jin princes and thrown back to their reality, given that neither of them were evil beings and thus did not belong in hell. Kaioshin had thanked everyone for all their help and then teleported Paikuhan back to where he belonged.

They had found Ailill slumped over in pure exhaustion. He had explained that Coran was no longer a threat, much to everyone’s relief. Dalia was nowhere to be found, but the group decided that, without the strength and influence of the Kold family, she wasn’t much of a threat by herself. Ailill had been anxious to return to his home planet and so Bulma had suggested he take their spaceship as a thank you for all the help he provided. Goku had gathered the group and, making sure everyone was touching, had used his Instant Transmission technique to teleport them back to Kami’s Lookout on Earth. It hadn’t taken long before Yamcha, Tienshinhan, and Android 18, sensing the warriors’ strong energy signature, had flown there to meet them all.

The four month waiting period to use the Namekian dragonballs had been difficult for Bulma to bear, but she had made sure to occupy her mind by taking care of her family. Yamcha, ever a loyal friend, came by every so often to chat and keep her company. Trunks spent a lot more time at home, even using his father’s gravity simulator to train by himself when he wasn’t at school. Without Goten around to entertain him, he seemed to have a lot more time on his hands, and, although she felt bad that her son didn’t have his best friend around with him, she had to admit it was nice that he was keeping himself out of trouble. Gohan came by every now and again to spar or simply chat with the boy. Now that his father wasn’t around, Trunks had taken the “man of the house” title quite literally and Bulma was glad to know she could count on her son to come through when it was necessary.

Now Bulma anxiously waited for the dragon to appear. She had left Bura with her parents, figuring Vegeta would want to meet her privately once he was back. She couldn’t believe the day had finally come for them to make their wishes. Goku had volunteered to use his IT technique again to travel to New Namek and gather the dragonballs, arguing it would be much faster than taking a spaceship there and back again, but it had still taken him nearly two days to complete the task. Trunks stood next to her, arms crossed over his chest and a serious look on his face in a way that made him look eerily like his father. An image of the future version of the boy who had traveled back from another timeline to warn them about the impending doom of the androids flashed through Bulma’s mind as she glanced at her son. It tugged at her heart to realize that soon this twelve year old boy would look just like that man.

A hand on her shoulder startled her from her thoughts. She turned her head to meet Yamcha’s concerned face. “You okay?” he asked.

Bulma flashed him a smile and a brief nod. “Just anxious to get this over with. I miss Vegeta.”

A rumble drew their attention towards the dragonballs, where Porunga was hovering over the sky above them and Dende was speaking in Namekian. Bulma had agreed to let Chichi get the first wish of turning Goten back to his proper age. The raven haired woman had at first seemed excited to have a baby in the house again, but the enthusiasm had died quickly when she remembered what it was actually like to have a baby in the house again. Chichi was over the experience and Bulma couldn’t blame her for wanting her son back to normal as soon as possible. She had waited for Vegeta for four months—five more minutes wasn’t going to kill her.

She watched as Porunga’s eyes glowed red and baby Goten, who had been placed over a blanket on the ground, suddenly obtained a white glow about him. The baby slowly began to levitate over the ground. Within a few seconds, he had disappeared, leaving a confused looking eleven year old boy instead. Goten’s hand went to the back of his head as he looked around the group of people gathered around him.

“Oh, thank goodness!” cried Chichi as she enveloped her son in a hug.

“Ack,” Goten grunted. “Mom! That’s so embarrassing!”

Everyone laughed over the display between Chichi and Goten. Goten struggled to pull himself away from his mother until she reluctantly conceded. Trunks ran over to his friend and high fived him happily.

“What is your second wish?” Porunga rumbled from above.

Dende turned his head and his eyes met Bulma’s. Bulma nodded in silent confirmation and the guardian turned back to the dragon. Another few sentences in Namekian and the dragon rumbled an affirmative from the sky.

“It shall be done.”

His eyes glowed again and this time, Bulma held her breath in anticipation. A spot on the ground near nearby Dende began to glow. Everyone’s attention was focused on it as a muscled figure began to materialize. Bulma instantly recognized the gravity defying flame of wild black hair that was her husband’s and fought the urge to run over to him to envelope him in a hug. Instead, she turned to Trunks, who had come back to stand beside her, and softly tapped his shoulder in encouragement. She watched with a smile as the boy ran over to greet his father. Vegeta looked slightly disoriented as he blinked in rapid succession. The lavender haired demi-Saiyan grabbed his father’s forearm in greeting and Vegeta turned the corner of his mouth to acknowledge his son. His eyes then lifted to zero in on Bulma. She grinned in response, but still didn’t move, knowing how much her husband hated public displays of affection. But the look in his eyes said it all. Without words, they communicated how much he appreciated her and promised more to come.

“Welcome back, Vegeta!” Goku called out. He walked up to the other Saiyan and slapped his shoulder once in greeting. Vegeta’s eyes narrowed at the taller man in irritation and he crossed his arms defensively.

“Well, it was about damn time,” he grunted. He looked around the Lookout at the other warriors who were staring at him. “What the hell are you all looking at?”

Before anyone could say anything, Porunga’s voice rumbled again.

“You still have one wish left,” the giant dragon spoke. “I don’t have all day.”

Dende turned to face the group. “We didn’t really discuss making a third wish,” he said uncertainly. “Does anyone have any ideas?”

There was silence.

“I could use a new car,” Krillin cracked. His friends groaned and turned to glare at him. “What?” he said defensively. “I do, and nobody else has any suggestions!”

Suddenly, Yamcha ran over to Dende and whispered something in his ear. Dende’s face took on a look of disbelief as he heard what Yamcha said. He turned to look at the human’s scarred face incredulously. “Are you serious?” Dende asked.

Yamcha shrugged a shoulder and chuckled nervously. “Come on, why not? It’s not like we actually need to defend against anything life threatening.” He glanced at his friends. “Do we?” Everyone shook their heads no.

“Have you made a decision?” came Porunga’s voice again.

Yamcha looked at Dende again. “Do you have a better idea?”

Dende sighed and turned back to face the dragon. Bulma’s forehead furrowed with curiosity as she watched Dende reluctantly speak some words in his native Namekian.

Porunga’s eyes glowed for the final time. “It shall be done,” he stated.

A spot on the ground behind Dende shimmered one more time and a container began to materialize there. Yamcha was already walking back to stand beside her, a hint of amusement gleaming in his eyes.

“What did you wish for?” she asked.

Yamcha pointed and when Bulma turned to look again, the laughter bubbled involuntarily. Soon, Goku was joining in the laughter as he, too, realized what Yamcha had wished for. The Saiyan walked over to the object that had appeared and plucked something out of it. He offered it to Bulma, who walked over and took it from him.

“Well, Bulma,” Goku said. “I guess you’ll get your lifetime supply of strawberries after all!”

As the group laughed, Bulma savored her favorite fruit. She now had her husband back, her newborn daughter, and the very first wish she had ever set out to fulfill with the dragonballs. Life didn’t get any better than this.

~oOo~

It was cold… Freezing…

Somewhere far away, Dalia could make out muffled shouting and frantic voices echoing through the ruins. The area of the castle she had been in had collapsed, trapping her beneath innumerous amounts of dirt, rubble and building material. Regardless, Dalia didn’t want to move or make any effort to free herself. Movement was a solid remainder that she was alive and breathing.

She would have given anything not to be.

Dalia felt empty, hollow, dead… She was trapped in an intermediate state, somewhere between the living and the departed. Everything she was had been ripped out of her, and nothing was left to fill in the void. By the same means of the deep magic that had bound them in life, Dalia had felt Coran die. She shivered at the memory. Part of her had died with him. It had taken every ounce of determination in her being to keep from falling into insanity. She could still feel it, like a feral creature, crawling around in the back her mind just at the edge of her subconscious. All she wanted to do was sleep for eternity… The icy world encircled her, all too willing to use its cold embrace to grant her wish.

Still, something kept her from surrendering herself to oblivion. The only trace of warmth around her came from the small bundle Coran had handed her before he died. She had used her body to shield it as the palace had collapsed and now, it felt like a little heartbeat, insistent on living even though everything around it had all but given up.

She opened her eyes.

Ice crystals were already forming on her skin and hair. If she remained lethargic for much longer, the cold would finish the job it had already started. As much as she wanted it, Dalia couldn’t allow it. There was one last thing she had to do before she could rest. The thought gave her enough drive to bring her mind out of the drained stupor it was in.

She ignited her ki.

Immediately, the ice on her skin melted away, and she could feel the warmth of her aura start to make its way into her body. Dalia could hear the voices getting closer and calling out to the survivors they knew were hidden within the remains of what had once been the palace. She knew her ki now served as a beacon for them to follow. She held her parcel close to her chest and embraced its heat. There was just one last thing she had to due to ensure she would be able to see her mission through to its end.

Taking a deep breath, Dalia gave a sweet farewell to all she once had been. Her body reacted to her wishes. Now all she had to do was wait…

“Frankly, I don’t give a damn what it takes. Just get them out.”

The flurry of activity intensified around him as his subjects continued to remove the rubble from what had once been a ballroom. Admiral Damiru glared at his underling, making whatever objection or comments the other might have had about the safety of the rescuers die unspoken. Crossing the 12-foot tall Ice-jin giant was something no one was foolish enough to do.

“Yes, Admiral,” the humanoid acknowledged with a bow. “As you wish.”

Not much was left standing from what had once been a grandiose palace, a testament to his specie’s magnificence. Most of it had collapse or been destroyed in the battle, many of the underwater chambers had flooded… Their leaders were lost or missing. Chaos had taken over. Still, like their hardy home planet, the Admiral had no doubt they would survive this crisis. Like many times before, they would endure. They would rebuild.

In time, they would be avenged.

Several hours earlier, his scouter had picked up a significant spike in ki activity. From the readings, he knew that he recognized the other life form under wreckage, and was determined to reach it. The fact that one of their rulers had survived fueled his determination. He pushed his forces to their limit. Now, they were only a few meters away. Safety was the last thing on his mind. It was almost insulting that such menial concerns had even been brought up.

His scouter beeped at him again. The creature they were trying to save was growing restless. Admiral Damiru took a step backwards as the area his crew had been working on exploded. For several seconds, he was rendered speechless. There, standing amidst the cloud of dust and debris, was one of the Ice-jin princes...

Or was it?

Damiru could now see clear differences from both sons of Kold, but the similarities were also undeniable. He wasn’t sure what to think. The creature was pale from head to toe, except for an obsidian carapace-like gems that decorated parts of his head, chest, arms and legs. He had a muscular build, far greater than either of the princes in their fourth form. Finally its porcelain face had two black lines that ran from beneath his eyes to his chin.

The creature opened its scarlet eyes and looked at the Ice-jin Admiral. No one dare speak as the two titans stared each other down.

“I am not here for you,” it finally spoke.

Admiral Damiru eyed it cautiously. When he had started this rescue mission, pulling something like this out of the ice was something he would have never expected. However, the way the other creature carried itself was indicative of royalty. That much was undeniable. It almost was as if both Lord Freeza and Lord Koola were there, challenging his disbelief.

“Who are you?” the military man asked finally.

The other Ice-jin looked away for a moment before meeting his eyes once again. What he saw would have terrified a lesser man: pure unaltered wrath.

“I do not have a name,” he told him. “I am simply a guardian.”

For the first time since its appearance, Damiru notice that the creature was carrying something. The guardian pulled back some of the fabric to reveal a spherical, pale blue object about 10 inches in diameter. He suddenly realized what it was. The other creature smiled at his reaction, clearly enjoying it. It then looked down at the object and caressed it tenderly, changing his manner almost instantaneously.

“I am here as the keeper of your new King.”