Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ tHe DeStInY oF ChAlLeNgE ❯ Conqueror of All... ( Chapter 25 )

Chapter 25~ Conqueror of All…

Mid-air, contrasted against the orange tinted, red sky, hovered Vegeta, his strong jaw clenched in anger, the ivory beast mere steps from his dominating form. His ebony mane was matted with blood, the once silky strands coated with the thick essence of his adversary...as well as his own. Deep abrasions marred his face, the perfection of his face disrupted by the burnt flesh and fresh blood, the substance of life thick with severity to the damage his skull sustained. His shoulder bone pressed precariously outward within the confines of his body, displaced from it's socket, shattered from it's contact with a ill-guarded energy rebuke. Several ribs protruded from his side, distorted flesh still clinging to the obtrusive bones, severed nerves spilling precious liquid to contaminate the already blood painted ground.

Moments stretched to indefinite hours, the agony that throbbed in his blood the only reminder that life still pulsed through his veins. Which presently was a necessary recall, his tainted soul completely prepared to battle on regardless of what state of living he was. Although life's breath had not yet fled him, he dare not believe that sacred blessing could be contained within his broken vessel much longer.

His whole demeanor was introverted, every thought, action, and calculation a deeper element than usual. His movements were executed for only one purpose, an intention that had seeded and manifested within his jaded mind many years prior. A retribution that he still intended to keep, despite his nearing damnation.

"You always were so stupid, Monkey Prince," a bloodied, ivory beast observed in a non-committal tone, crimson droplets seeping from his torn lips.

"Your constant distractions will not change the inevitable," Vegeta roared, his anger melting into fire-spitting energy, the aura that enveloped his body causing burning sensations even upon his own flesh.

"Oh, come now, you mustn't let that temper get the best of you," the cynical beast jested in taunting sincerity, his tone familiar to the young ears of a 8 year old Prince…a tortured youth that still lived within the man that stood before the tyrant.

Repressing the tremor that traced his spine, Vegeta glared with deep animosity at the creature, his hands clenching into fists, the pressure he exerted pressing his nails to dig within the flesh of his hand. The moment maintained a surreal pause, movements a continuous process, even the blink of an eye an enraptured piece of time.

The warriors exchanged numerous lethal blows.

...All blocked, except for one.

Vegeta's hand, bathed in blood and covered with miniscule remnants of his customary white glove, jutted from the back of his greatest adversary, ghastly decorated with traces of the aliens entrails, his bloodied fingers clutched venomously around the still pulsating black heart; the speed he executed the mortal intention a replication of light's unparalleled rapidity. The lashing energy of his Super Saiyan form scorched his nemesis's flesh like raging fire, the pain worthy of an eternity avenged by Vegeta's soulless hand, a retribution in name of the broken heart of a now jaded Prince.

And in that moment was his fate decided.

His obsidian orbs of hatred burned into the tyrant's cool eyes, as he let his ki mutilate the creature's wretched flesh, incinerating the beast's heart as it had done to him, the organ that still pumped within his chest only a diversion to the cold truth, but it was too late. Too late to turn away, to late to live-to late to die. An accursed moment that his wretched soul had lived for, died for, and dreamt of. A faltering piece of time that passed too quickly to reminisce, no seconds granted to gloat... the broken moment merely karma of his ill will.

The crimson beam from Frieza's pointed finger penetrated his flesh like agitated electricity, eating away at his body as it followed the traces of his blood, engulfing his veins like fire. Blood spewed from his agape mouth, trickling down his bruised flesh, staining his body with its mortality. His composure was erected in defense, his pride deflecting the satisfied glint within Frieza's eyes, even as Vegeta released a feral growl, crashing his fist into it's ivory skull.

It wasn't true, that your life flashed before your eyes, and he could attest to that false hood. No, it was rather a moment that flooded all other thoughts, a damnation that left you stranded with nothing to cling to.

A moment that you are alone.

The very second that one realizes they were always alone- that it was never different. Not since he had lost his soul to hatred, to blackening animosity that ate at him from within. It was the very instant the he was reunited with a broken spirit, a shattered element that was beaten into death many years past- a phantom that was his own.

Or so it was for he.

No memories distracted his mind, no flashes of imagery that he even wished to remember; only an indefinite darkness was his comfort, cradling his beaten body as it carried him to oblivion. He didn't know who he was anymore, for he wasn't anyone at all. Only a shell, a hollow beast without thought, feeling, or wonder. The only thing that remained of his childhood. The only essence that had chance to grow. He was only a name, only a title, empty symbols that were now forgotten. For what had he done that he cared to remember? His one truth had failed him, abandoned him when he thought it impossible. Years spent in agony training proved fleeting moments, his strength only a diversion to what he truly was. Nothing. Simply, nothing. His life was a lie- and so was he.

He had been dead long before.

"The Mighty Prince falls," a broken chuckle echoed as the body of his tormentor collided into the encrusted earth, blood curdling within the beast's displaced jaw as it spoke, using even it's last breath to haunt him, if only to cause more pain.

The moment of which I speak, one of worse fate than that of loosing life's sweet blessing... the last moment-- the moment you are forgotten.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bulma watched his shallow breathing escalate with his agony and insipid fury, the predominant emotion that drowned her thoughts silent anguish, undisguised pain for the moments she knew were appending.

A drift in time that would haunt her for all eternity.

Was it a moment, or an entire lifetime? She wasn't entirely sure, only aware of the prolonged presence of misery as the pregnant moment replayed within her mind in morbid detail, yet condemned with self-loathing as she was given no time to react. No time to prevent.

He suddenly turned to her, his vacant gaze focused solely on her, his body trembling like volts of deadly energy were manifesting within his body, which ironically were. Draining the life from his body, his inner turmoil condemning his tainted soul with bland existence. And it was with this dead embodiment, his emotions void and pain surreal, that he did fall to the hungry sands of the desert, the blood painted dunes drinking of his life's blood, hasty to acquire new death to run within the lands eternal rivers of carnage.

Heart hammering, she ran to his side, cradling his mutilated body within her lap, warm tears cascading down her cheeks, her senses frozen in heartbreak. He gave no indication that he could feel her touch, no signs that he knew she was even there. That she ever was. Her breath caught in her throat, trembling fingers reaching tentatively to touch his face.

His cold eyes of hatred halted to her.

Stopping her hand mid-air, Bulma waited with a demure expression, now in time of loss her composure fallen, heart exposed to the hazardous elements of the planet, its most perilous fear the man that glared at her resentfully. That a rightful trepidation, as he expressed little more than animosity for her, perhaps even greater than that of the cruel beast that now lay lifeless. Words that once came so easily to her were now struggling to develop, her thoughts broken by the torment of rampant emotions and absurdities she cared not to analyze.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Vegeta gazed into her eyes, once ignited by fire they were now drowned by lost hope, the cerulean orbs of passion drenched by her sorrow. Glazed over by her soft tears she stared down at him, odd emotions flashing within her deep pools, flickering too fast for him to even discern their meanings. His eyes opposed those undefined emotions, rebelled against them; the warm expressions of life lost in the seas of obsidian hatred.

And yet, it, the hatred and anger that filled his eyes had their purpose just as any, a purpose that caused him more pain than he cared to admit. He expressed only deep loathing, but he promised to whatever deity that care hear his cry that she would not mourn the loss of his life's blood, as he had mourned the loss of his soul years past. She would be unscathed by the emotions that turned within his soul, fueled its black essence; and that was a swear he would ensure.

"Hinder my life no longer," Vegeta growled roughly, averting his masked obsidian orbs with royal disdain, "Leave me."

"Why do you wish it so?" Bulma questioned mournfully, her voice a shaken whisper, her shattered heart beseeching a truthful answer.

Their tainted relationship was forged in deceit, spun in a web of lies she knew not how to untangle. Revenge had dictated their animosity for each other, but in the end irony had won out. She had betrayed her own moralities by falling in love with him, destroyed her very pride by being left with a ruined heart. Nothing would ever be the same, her mind corrupted with his cynicism, the very eyes she saw with jaded by her bitter devotion. Yet, it would never end. He would never be of the past. Her life would forever be captured by that love, a love that would never cease in the dictates of time.

An eternity of pain, and bittersweet joy.

"You have cursed me, condemned my soul to the pits of hell," Vegeta rasped derisively, his voice sketchy with raw, contemptuous emotion, "My wretched being can withstand your presence no longer. I care not what you do, you are not a concern of mine, just as I am not of yours."

"I withstand your ridicule, and your cruelty, yet I remain by your side. I shan't betray you, as you have so blatantly done so to me. I won't obey your misguided request," she spoke evenly, her emotions masked beneath a calculating glare.

"Betrayal to a common whore is no feat," he spat with a vicious smirk, his cold eyes glinting with malicious glee as he recognized pain within her eyes.

"What is the use of your spite, you have not an eternity to live, yet it pleases you to ensure my pain," Bulma spoke fluidly, the reflective agony within her voice not disguised, "Yes, your words wound me. Are you contented?"

Vegeta only gazed at her in astonishment, his body suddenly rigid with tension.

"Do not deem me dense, why now do you act so surprised?! Isn't that what you wanted? For me to cry in anguish, to admit the misery you are capable of casting upon me," Bulma sobbed angrily.

"Then you are weak," he snarled reproachfully, his searing gaze burning into her eyes with an intensity that compelled her to look away.

"No," she ground out, tears streaking down her face, pain etched across her features, "No, Vegeta, you're wrong. I'm strong. Strong enough to cry-- strong enough to admit my weakness--- you are my weakness, Vegeta. You have broken me."

He savagely turned his head away with a growl, never wincing as pain coursed through his body, both physical and emotional.

"And I can't even hate you for it," she gasped softly, bitterness at the irony tracing her voice, as her eyes betrayed the despair within her heart, conveying the desire for him to love her.

"I despise you," he gasped scathingly, gripping her shoulders viciously, his nails digging into her flesh.

"I know," she whispered softly, not even fighting his brutal grip, only turning her head to the side with a defeated breath, chilling tears slowly running down her pale cheeks.

"Then why do stay with me," he demanded, shaking her roughly, urging her to push him away, "Leave me in peace, foolish onna. Haunt my thoughts no more."

"I can't," she responded in a humorless laugh, a self-directed sneer contorting her swollen lips.

"Why," he hissed in bewilderment, pleading with his actions for her to cast him aside, her emotions along with him, as his grip faltered ever so slightly, "Damn it, woman, why?! Leave me...forget about me, never spare me a second thought, for I shall do the same."

"Sycei'ait luthai'ae maj tey," she murmured, the wind echoing her solemn admission, tears attesting to the pain her honesty evoked.

***Pronunciation: Sea-at lu-thigh-uh ma-jj tay******Translation: "Because I love you."***

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The shiver that ran through Vegeta's body could be defined only as excruciating; the pain induced by her softly spoken words enough to make him wince with white-hot pain. He resented the comfort that was result of her soothing words, making him loath his being even more so; disdained at his very heartbeat, even the blood that ran slick through his veins. Comfort was not his purpose. Neither to be obtained, nor offered. Death was imminent, and he would withhold his solemn promise- even if it meant dieing alone.

She would not mourn him.

"Love," he scoffed ruthlessly, his black orbs hallow in their otherwise thick consistency, "It is a fabrication. A lie. You know not what you speak. It is blasphemy!"

"NO! No," Bulma grated in a broken sob, "You're wrong."

"Oh, then what is it, huh," he inquired with a reproachful chuckle, a sneer quivering upon his lips, "What the hell is it, because damned if I know!"

His omission pierced at her heart like a vicious saber, searching through her flesh for it's softest core, but she refused to be defeated by it's talons, instead Bulma offered her knowledge forthright, no longer afraid of being persecuted by his spiteful gaze.

"The day- the very moment you realize that you are no longer bound to this world. The moment when you will shed a tear for tomorrow; shed a tear for tomorrow's laughter- even its sorrows. It's the day you realize that you would shed a tear for one more heartbeat. One more breath," Bulma gasped, her voice hoarse with conviction, grating along the contours of her lips, seeping into his mind like liquid fire, barraging his most introverted semblance of normalcy, capturing his thoughts until they conformed to her will; even the air holding it's breath with the sound of her voice.

"The moment you realize that it is no longer your tomorrow-your heartbeat, your breath of which you yearn. But of the your love. Damn it, Vegeta, it's the day when you realize that their next dawn, their next heart beat means more than your own. The day when you're broken-the day when you do shed a tear for their next breath."

"And I have cried for you, Vegeta. Have cried in my sleep, cried when you would not hear, but now don't you see- see what you've done to me. My very sanity lies within the balance of this moment. The moment that I realized that I love you, just like the last, and the one before that. Because love stops time, there is no sunset in this day I speak, I'm stuck in this moment forever---," her voice broke in a shaken quiver, the tears beading from her azure eyes down to her lips, streaking paths of melted emotion to run along her cheeks.

"A moment that I will live in, that I will die in... It's a moment that I shall be captured in for eternity--- an eternity, Vegeta! An eternity that I shall shed a tear for you, and only you."

"Only you, Vegeta," she repeated fervently, "Only you, my dearest warrior."

"I have no tears for you." Vegeta whispered in a raw voice, a voice that shattered his own heart as it escaped his lips.

A lie that told a thousand truths.

"Then end this moment," Bulma demanded savagely, his sapphire eyes sparking to truculent life.

Vegeta's breathing hastened, his heart leaping unexpectedly at her furious challenges, his blood pumping quicker, escaping from his torn veins and flesh at a rapid rate. Violently he averted his gaze, teeth clenching in rage as he turned his head to the side, nostrils flaring with his demonstrated agitation. How could she request such a thing from him; to end her life with little thought given? Did she think him a monster?

Did she see him a monster?

She suddenly gripped his hand, ferociously taking his bloody appendage, placing the digits of his fingers on the contours of her neck, tracing the pulse that beat within her soft flesh. Pressing his hand to her neck roughly, she urged him with determined insistence that he keep his hand there. That he would rip that precious vein; tear it until it was no more. That he would end the moment that he had condemned her to.

"Do it."

Vegeta tried weakly to retrieve his stolen hand, but she insisted once more, gripping it on her slender neck with even more force.

"Do it!"

"Damn it, Vegeta, finish it," she hissed in her belligerence, finally sobbing it out as she begged for him to end her torture, "Finish me."

Torture of knowing no matter how many tears she shed, his heart would stop, a last breath would come.

He cursed an incoherent whisper.

"End the pain you created," she barked in stipulation, an aura thrashing around her body in anger.

"I can't," he growled with demonic rage, grabbing her face roughly with intent not even he knew he possessed.

He kissed her.

Fiercely, almost savage in his rough approach, barraging her mouth with his own, his tongue forcing itself into her mouth like the liquid fire of her words, without consent or approval. Her swollen lips were still in astonishment, moistened from the tears that had caressed the velvety creations. The blood from his torn lips trickled into her mouth, resting on her taste buds, its thick consistency making her daze within and out of reality. And as the assault of her flesh turned from response to sexual sensuality, she dare not breathe; dare not risk its end.

As she started to respond to his touch, Vegeta seemed to awake from his hazy reality. Immediately tensing, forcing himself not to surrender to her touch. Whether it be from blood loss, or pure passion, he knew not, but he dare not let such a happening occur again. It was imperative to her very existence that he keep his vow, and Vegeta had always taken responsibility seriously.

But what made him responsible for her heart, he did not know. An ignorance that he was presently contented to have, one of the only comforts given to him. If he was to die alone, he rather it be without the knowledge of what he was truly leaving; what he was escaping.

A comfort he would soon be stripped.

Shaken from his unexpected reaction, Bulma took short breaths, hasty and agitated, the tainted air running roughly through her lips. Her mind tormented with wonder and magnified pain, glints of hope making her vulnerable to the wild accusation within his coal black stare. Apparently he could read the question in her eyes, evident enough with his curt response to her exposure.

"Never thought I'd have sexual intention for a whore."

"Don't..."

"Don't what? Reveal the truth," he spoke with humorless undertone, his ebony gaze calculating.

His anger was tamed, all responses now a result of a controlled analyzing, everything calculated through his jaded perspective. And it was with this even indifference that he did stare at her, challenging to even guess at the rage that boiled for her within. The passion.

"Don't push me away," she murmured in an insipid tone, her voice almost clear of any life. Dead as was her beaten heart.

"I never had you to hold," he countered evenly, completely unaware of her strong will to remain.

"You have me now," she responded, that same insipid tone haunting his ears.

"I don-" Vegeta began in condemning rapidity.

"Do not waste your last breaths with lies," she cut him off in a quiet voice, the gentility of her words demanding that he pause to strain and hear them.

Did she know? Know that he could take very little more, that his indifference was his last mask- his last defense. Even now he couldn't recall how it had gotten this far, the layers that had been his survival for ten years vanished within one day, one break of time that was spent trying to push her away. Yet again, at times he forgot his own name, the blood loss more than substantial, casting him in a bleak reality where he could only strive for bearing of consciousness.

"Let me hold you," she beseeched him with soft promise, the temptation threatening to strip him of his last diversion, his last mask to vulnerability. To weakness.

So he acted with the only emotion that he knew, the only one that could mask them all. Fists clenching at his sides, she was sure that he would strike her. But the hit didn't come...

It was worse.

"I'll not be touched by some common whore, I am a Prince! A Prince, damn it! Horrible little vixen, I hate you! You should be dieing, not me! YOU! You're the reason I'm here! You're the reason I'm on this Gora forsaken piece of shit! It's your fault," Vegeta raged blindly, roaring out his dismissal with a ferocity only he possessed, finishing without any thought- the purest of anger, not even run through his masks or calculating mind, "It's your fault that I'm alone!"

Any words that he planned on continuing with were drowned, the sound of his voice captured within his own blood as it raised within his throat, gouging from his open lips like a fresh wound. A wound he could only assume was his broken, black heart. Opened by his own attempt at leaving it unrevealed, the blood that seeped from his mouth, cascading down his body like snakes and broken rivers, was the very insides of his heart. Purged through his own stupidity. But not yet discerned.

Revealed, yet not defined...not discovered by the only one who existed within it.

"Then why am I here with you." She murmured as she softly rocked him back and forth.

He hadn't even realized he lay within her embrace, only comforted by the presence of her touch, though he scorned it. She cradled his body with tenderness he had never known, holding his head close to her bosom, his ears filled with the sound of her heartbeat; A creation that soothed him more than he care admit. A warm aura erupted from her body, closing them both into its web of energy, pushing them firmly together. Her very soul seemed to pour into him, becoming one with him as it sought to know every inch of his body, every piece of his soul. And as his breath became burdened, he only wished it could be so, his own heartbeat becoming fainter with each rhythmic pound.

"I will always be here with you," Bulma whispered, her voice dwindling with each word she attempted to form.

Shameful tears drowned her eyes, streaking her cheeks with their cold essence. Tears that were no longer warm. He had been right. Right that they were useless, that they were only weakness. Perhaps it had always been so, for as though they cascaded from her azure gems of pain they did not promise one more moment, one more tomorrow.

They couldn't.

"What when I am not," he challenged in a broken voice, his own blood gurgling with his barely audible voice.

It felt as if a vice grip had strung around her throat, preventing any words to be said, her lips trembling with anguish of a her broken lies, leaving only the truth. A truth that could not be changed- a truth that would not be abated. And though he had only voiced it, making it no less true, nor more so, it made her pain so much greater. Though she held not illusions that he would survive, him vocalizing that point made it somehow more agonizing. That he knew it as well so much worse. She could not shield him from the tragedy that was soon to become his fate. Her tears would not grant him another moment, nor could she protect him of the knowledge of it.

She had failed him.

His eyes opened as she gently stroked his cheek, the dark obsidian gems reflecting the stars in the sky, though his own glint was not there, emotionless and without warmth. A shell of fathomless darkness. The strength that he held was admirable, though she only wished that for one moment, one falter in time that she could see and feel the emotions that were trapped beneath the darkness that swallowed his soul. The bleakness that now trapped her own.

And it was in this silence, this anguish, with tears frozen from a no longer hopeful heart that he did reach out to her, his hand cupping her bruised cheek, bloody fingers uncurling to rest on her soft flesh. His thumb stroked tentatively, the soft touch caressing her with gentleness she knew not he possessed. He removed her tears, the very tears that were shed for him. Would always be shed for him. Warm blood replaced those frozen tears, his blood; blood that he willingly gave. Every tear that fell was cast away, his calloused finger catching the tainted creations.

They only fell faster.

She dare not look in his penetrating eyes, though they searched to capture her gaze, enrapture her azure orbs as he had once done so to her heart. Her gaze cast down to the blood-drenched sands beneath them, looking even beyond the temperamental dunes that stretched like mountains across the hazardous lands, she avoided his searching stare, body trembling like her limbs were no longer stable, deadened tears flowing freely from her swollen eyes. Dare she look upon him, gaze into his unrepentant eyes she would be forfeit to the ravenous lands that wished to consume her. Defenseless just as she was that very moment, susceptible to the pain that would consume her if his tender touch were a falsehood. As untrue as the possibility that her tears would make his heart beat once more.

As much of a lie as was his ability to shed a tear for her.

"Could such a broken piece of time change your destiny," his baritone voice beseeched her, the edge to his tone lost to the silent comfort.

"Would a moment even make a difference," he elaborated gently.

"If it meant the difference of dieing alone," she spoke elusively, her heart tumbling at her own tongue's revelations, notions she knew to be true, "The difference of living alone."

She faced him.

Cold tears glinted within her ocean like depths, the waves of pain casting them to flow down her face, to cascade freely down her porcelain flesh, some massing together where his tawny fingers gripped her face delicately. Vegeta had somehow altered his position, as he was now upright, his back rigid with the pain he refused to show, the weight of his body he had transferred to his knees excruciating, the wounds that covered his one leg extensive, his shattered kneecap ripping at his tender tissue. Their gazes clashed with opposing forces, yet in that moment they were comforted to be bestowed upon the other, tempting the other's fire upon them, their very passions. The only movement was of Vegeta's nimble hand, as he caught her frozen tears.

Tears he would make warm.

Releasing a strained gasp of emotional agony, Vegeta pulled her body to him, his arms wrapping around her battered body, pressing her warmth close to him, the little heat he still contained offered without restraint. His life's blood stained her remaining clothes and body, the warm, crimson substance dousing her form slowly. His trembling hands caressed her face, brushing into her hair with shaken movements, as he drew her nearer to him, her head cradled in the contours of his shoulder. He nuzzled her longingly, his cheek brushing against her own, simply breathing of her scent. Breathing of her air. Tremulous emotions shook his body, though he was content to find balance within her, his fingers entangling within her blood matted cerulean tresses to ensure that she never leave him. Ensure that his last breath would be filled of her scent.

Promise the difference of not dieing alone.

"Then take this moment," he murmured into her ear with desperate caresses.

And it was in that moment that he did live for a reason other than revenge, a seemingly abated moment where time stopped for them. When he stopped time for her. The symbolism of his actions was far greater than any other could understand, actions that no other than she could interpret. He offered her more than his touch, more than just the comfort of his warmth. He gave her his shoulder to cry on, a moment when she would not cry alone.

A moment he would live for her.

A warm tear escaped her swollen oceans of cerulean, cascading slowing down her angelic face as she lifted her gaze to his, searching for the warmth she knew burned within the depths of the obsidian darkness, a fire that burned for her now. Would burn for her always, even where no other light dare burn. His eyes were fierce, vibrant even as he faded- alive as he was slowly dieing. Bulma shut her eyes in despondency, lips quivering with sobs she could not voice, her heart drowning in the sight of his broken form, his unyielding pride. His undefeated soul; a soul that had survived when he could not. Her lips were agape, moving in pained stillness, words lost to the unrepentant winds that thrashed through the barren lands, as she looked upon the man that would soon become only a memory. A memory she would cherish.

But a memory wasn't enough.

Placing her lips on his face, unable to speak, she mouthed the emotions that were hidden deep within her,

`Luthai'ae maj tey'

The warm tear that had been shed selflessly for him pressed to his cheek, the bead of moisture sliding onto his battle scarred face, a tear that yearned his next breath. A breath he took willingly. A breath that would be filled with her. He grazed his lips over her own, the moisture of her tear whispering on his lips. Pressing his lips to her own tenderly, reaching out to her as he never had before, he simply kissed her. A chaste kiss that spoke a thousand words, a touch that echoed the passion of his soul. Their last kiss.

His very last gift.

As their lips parted Vegeta grasped her face softly, his fingers caressing her cheeks with the gentility of whispering winds, his ebony eyes softened to the ripple of a raging river, and as he gazed at her, adored and cherished her- the being that had made his heartbeat once more... he loved her. And with that last breath, that last moment of serenity, he shed a tear for her tomorrow, for her next smile. A tear warmed by the truest essence of her love. Stripped of words, abandoned by language, even their identities vanished within the time that held them, they simply gazed at each other. Felt and remembered each other, breaths mingled within the others. And within the reflection of her sapphire eyes the first, yet final tear cascaded down his tender skin, washing away the blood that marred its pure path, reviving a fire within his soul.

The now lifeless Prince of Saiyans laid in his loved ones arms.

"True love conquers all, Vegeta," Bulma whispered brokenly, her voice airy and soft, dieing within, "even your dark heart."