The Namekian Brothers VS The Rowdy Tooba! (Invite)

Helix blurred back into vision next to his brother, noting the presence of thick magical fog and shuddering slightly.

Helix looked around before turning towards the place where his brother's eyes were set and nearly jumped in shock as a pile of rubble was dumped off effortlessly to the side by the muscular namekian's unearthing.

The pompous namek began shouting challenges at his father, and Helix's eyes narrowed slightly. Putting both fists out in front of him and pulling them apart slowly in a line, a white energy rod began to form between them. Whipping the freshly fashioned rod outwards into a battle stance, the coating of energy dispersed revealing a classic namek-wood staff.

"What is this stripling's deal?" Helix projected his mental voice into Xylo's head with a marginal glow of his tattoo. If he was going to fight by his brother's side, he might as well get all the information. "How many of these— things have you made?" Helix narrowly stopped himself from calling the beastly namekian an abomination, and remained on the lookout for any other sudden intruders of Xylo's kin.

Helix, although outside of the main conflict, took on his stance next to xylo and pointed his staff at the juvenile, running through the possibilities of attack. This would be quite the test.

Helix's eyes narrowed nodding in silence as Xylo confirmed that this child of his would be their sole opponent today. The prophet locked his senses on the namekian, allowing his dark mysticism to overwhelm his senses. The guru flinched. "Training hard."

The two demon nameks stood opposite each other in stalemate, their eyes locked on each other, Xylo's face filled with bored disapproval, Tooba's filled with impudent wrath. "I'd take a spineless namek over this whelp any day," cracked back the prophet, "What's the game plan?"

But by the time Helix could finish his sentence, the muscular Mazoku had viciously snapped at Xylo and darted at him in a rage. Helix flinched as his brother's black energy clashed with the fiery aura of the brazen brute. Helix immediately flinched and set down into a combat stance, his ears twitching in ready as he examined the situation.

The entire encounter between the two opposing forces was over in a millisecond, but Helix's focused instincts missed little. Although the combat had come and passed in mere moments, Helix's mystical sense triggered a strange reaction in him. His head marking flashed slightly. Xylo... Something was hidden inside Xylo...

But as Tooba taunted his father, Helix decided this was his time to act, not think.

Placing both hands next to each other and pulling them apart, an energy rod began to form in the line between his fists. The namekian twirled the fresh tool and whipped it outwards, pointing threateningly at Tooba as the layer of formative energy rippled out, revealing a perfectly crafted namekian staff.

Helix pointed his staff down towards his feet like a paintbrush with both hands, twirling it around him and generating a small storm of spiraling white energy.

"Let him talk," sneered the prophet with a small grin. Helix was beyond the point of uselessness in a fight. The tournament had done him well, shaping him from a helpless vagabond into fearsome mystic; If Helix Crust was pitted against a force of unbalanced evil, he would not go down easily.

"GRAAA!" The namekian's pupils reverse dilated as he hurled his staff upwards, trailing the silver energy spiraling up and outwards. As the blades of swirling white energy darted towards the mazoku, they would suddenly transform into Namekian Piranhas, known for their dangerous flesh tearing capacity.

Helix knew that Tooba would recognize the creatures immediately: He was sending a message.

Mess with these brothers and you were going to have to face the biteback!

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(Sorry about the meh post D; )

Helix watched with stern determination as his staff whisked towards the hulking namekian, and burst into deadly fish. It was uncharacteristic of the elderly namekian to revel in violence, but the success of his defense was useful in the fight…

The ravenous piranhas were largely absorbed by the blasts of ki, but a single fish made it through tearing into his rowdy nephew's shoulder. Suddenly, Helix froze. His pupils reverse dilated and his entire body went stiff. What was he doing?

Fighting a tournament was one thing. Injuries were immediately healed, and it was in the name of sport and the art of combat… But this? Certainly, Tooba was acting out of line, but there were countless ways to disable him before the ogres arrived that didn't require ripping his flesh open. Helix's eyes were fixated on the namekian's green oozing shoulder, shaking slightly.

Xylo quickly quipped back telepathically to the prophet that the young bristling warrior should be quickly put down without any fanciful tactics. But Helix couldn't keep tearing away at another being like that, especially not another namekian. Xylo's second idea appealed much more to the prophet: A trap… A trap was far more Helix's speed. There was no need for this senseless violence…

Helix had wanted to send a message, to prove to himself that he wasn't useless in life or death situations, but… What had he done? The image of the mazoku's torn flesh was haunting him already...

But just as Helix began to wax pacifist, Xylo had turned back to his stripling, who had immediately surmounted the gap between them and begun beating heavily on his father. A heavy punch effortlessly blasted the fin headed namek back, and Helix lurched forwards, almost instinctively to stop the violence.

Before Helix needed to intervene, Xylo had effortlessly recovered from the blow and begun blasting the child with Ki. Helix need to think of a plan, and fast… There had to be something he could do… A quick fix for the large problem.

The prophet clenched his fists and disappeared into a blur of teleportation, reappearing down below the two fighters on a lower trough in the Hellish planes. Helix tapped the ground on either side of him, lifting large stone perfectly carved walls from the red rocks. The prophet would proceed to create two more walls, forming an open faced box that was as long and wide as his full armspan, with the enclosure reaching the hight of his neck.

The prophet would then brush his hands over the walls, causing the red stone to slowly gradient into a much rougher obsidian, a far more durable enclosure. Helix climbed messily out of the box and formed a small orb of white ki in the palm of his hand. Tossing the tiny marble of energy into the bottom of the box, the floor transformed into a pit of constrictive snakes. Each one was venomous only to the point of unconsciousness, but incredibly powerful in their capacity to restrain their prey.

With his makeshift trap set up, Helix would teleport back to the battle scene of the two mazoku, finding that the child was taking his father's ki blasts effortlessly and taunting him, eventually engaging in hand to hand combat and creating a rather loud scene with a relatively large exposure of power. Ogres would be able to lock onto their signal if they were looking, and Helix almost contemplated running while he had the chance.

"Xylo," projected the prophet with urgency, "I've set up an enclosure that will keep Tooba down for quite some time if we can force him in…" Helix clenched his fists as he watched his brother engage in combat. He felt so useless on the sidelines, but he couldn't stand for more vicious violence like before. "I'll…" Helix searched for an idea, "I'll overwhelm him with psychic energy, and while he's reeling," Helix projected the mental image of his trap into his brother's mind and the relative location, "Get him in here. That will keep him down for a while"

Still feeling relatively useless, Helix decided to help his brother out in the fight manually as well. "Watch out," Warned the namekian, now set on a plan. Just as Tooba threw a punch forwards at his father, Helix leapt high into the air and projected a burst of world bending energy forwards, smashing wind into the adversarial namekian, hopefully sending him off guard and leaving Xylo a perfect opening to turn the tide.

As Helix reappeared at the scene of the battle, he arrived just in time to watch Xylo take a powerful pummeling from Helix's much younger nephew. The prophet couldn't help but wonder about the state of his brother's pride upon being so powerfully outmatched by his own son.

The prophet was more than pleased at his brother's receptiveness to his plan, and almost, for a brief ephemeral moment, felt like he was a tactician on par with his fission counterpart. Helix chuckled to himself. Was this what he had been reduced to? Trying to impress his brother in a battle? But nonetheless, Helix pushed onwards, quickly moving into the next phase of the plan.

When Helix leapt into the air and released his wave of psychic energy, Tooba clearly was incredibly receptive to the wall of mental force. Helix was almost taken aback by the power he apparently wielded. Or was Xylo's son just that weak minded that he was unable to take even the most insignificant of mental battering?

Deep inside of Helix, although he was adverse to the violence of the situation, there was an air of pride that washed over him, likely coming from Nai. He had pushed back evil, and stood side by side with his Mazoku brother, in solidarity.

Immediately after Tooba was overwhelmed by the wall of psychic force, Helix reopened his eyes and found that Xylo was almost giddy with the success of the maneuver. As his brother called out to him in respect, Helix couldn't help but grin. "Just one of the Dragon Caste tricks I've been working on," simpered the prophet with a smile, "But there's no time for congratulations yet."

As if on cue, Xylo instantly closed the gap between him and his son, delivering a brutal onslaught of blows, each one smacking Tooba closer and closer to the nonlethal black box Helix had manifested. Knocking his strident son silly with a kick to the jaw, perfectly lining him up with the trap below. In one final blow (a blow that admittedly did cause Helix to cringe,) Tooba was brutally dunked head first into the black prism of snakes.

Helix was close behind his brother as he descended towards the box and shut it, and the prophet stood beside the trap, listening to the mazoku's cries of anger die out in the intoxicatingly exhausting venom of the snakes within.

Xylo congratulated his younger brother, and Helix chuckled slightly, and briefly thought about his brother's earlier statement of Helix's exceptional fighting ability in comparison to Xylo's sons. Weaklings made from such a brutal soul as Xylo? That was a sight Helix would have to see.

But it was true, Helix's own magical might had indeed increased greatly from his time in the afterlife, likely due to all the meditation he was able to do, and his tactics had been sharpened by the tournament. "That tournament did me well, Brother," he replied slyly, with a final glance over at the box, "Besides, it's not as if dragon caste's magic is any less capable than the precision of a warrior or the brutality of a mazoku; it is simply used less frequently, and for less offensive measures." Helix nodded as Xylo mentioned returning to the portal. "Take my hand," Helix would dictate with authority, "I can bring us there instantaneously—"

Something was amiss. The dark fog from before had grown to an even greater climax, and Helix physically shuttered with disgust, having to push back the mist physically with a magical kiai in order to not pass out from the dark energy, which his soul sensing made him exceptionally sensitive to.

An unwanted psychic voice pushed it's way into Helix's mind, and his intricate markings immediately lit up in a white light, illuminating the fog around the brothers as he forced the psychic presence out of both of their minds. "Show yourself, demon!" Commanded Helix, knowing that a dark presence of this intensity could only come from an exceptionally powerful mazoku mystic like Didger, or a monster from the very heart of the demon realm.

But the voice seemed completely unphased, and soon, an alien which Helix could not place emerged from the shadows. Something about his soul was terrifyingly familiar, as if he had stolen some part of Helix for himself.

The bleak elder's beard jostled as he spoke, the white locks curling and fluffing about as he creaked out word after word, now completely purged from the brother's psyches. It seemed… That this man knew Xylo?

Helix decided the best course of action was to keep his body alert, in case he need to make a quick exit. The prophet quickly moved next to his brother, ready to grab onto him and teleport away should the situation turn sour. There couldn't be much time left until the ogres found them, not after a fight like that...

…Son?

Helix suddenly lurched forwards, and then chastised himself instantly for his foolishness. There was no way that this elderly offworlder could be the father of a namekian like Xylo... Unless Xylo was an experiment, created with part of Helix's own soul in some sort of spell by this old mystic.

"You're mistaken," Helix spoke with a cold tentative tenacity, "This is not your son, nor am I—" But Helix's voice was cut off by Xylo's own frustrated interjection. The clock was ticking, and for all they knew, this man was an ogre in disguise.

The elderly figure suddenly laughed, as if he came to an epiphany. He evidently had realized something, and chastised Xylo for not recognizing his own 'father.'

Suddenly, the hunched over man stood up to an incredible hight! Helix stepped back and almost made a hasty retreat right there and then. His magic spiked as if he was going to teleport, but Xylo seemed to hold steady, and the prophet was caught in ambivalence.

Rapidly spinning, the old magician seemed to have some sort of trick up his sleeve, and what emerged from the tornado of mist was not a terrifying ogre, but… A brutally sculpted mazoku warrior!?

How on Namek could one forget they were wearing a disguise of that intensity? Even the mazoku was evidently cramped inside such a form, as he was cracking his neck with evident relief. Could it be true? Was this actually the father of Xylo?

The seven foot tall Mazoku evidently relaxed after restoring himself to his original form, and Xylo dropped to his knees. "This is your father?" Helix asked in half terror, half awe. Xylo was crafted from quite the powerful slug! To Helix's surprise, the tall warrior bowed to his own son in a similar manner.

Helix stood there awkwardly, both hands on his head as he goofily looked back and forth between the bowing Mazoku. What in Porunga's name was going on here!

Suddenly, Xylo's father gave him a look of pride, and began going on about his son's valor. Sheesh! Who knew Mazoku were so lacking in modesty! But... To some extent, it was undeniably true. Xylo had incredible power, and even now, Helix could feel a deeper strength in his brother, desperately waiting to burst free...

But it was when Tuner dropped the name Beezlebub that Helix became interested. Abzerute had spoken to Helix about the fiery imp, and Helix knew he could bestow great power. "Beezlebub, the Prince of Hell?" Helix turned to Xylo with wide eyes. "Brother! Why haven't I heard of a connection of this magnitude?" Of course, Helix had also spoken to the very king of the galaxy, King Kai himself, as well as fused with the highest holy of the dragon caste, Grand Elder Nai, both facts that Xylo had not been made aware of.

Suddenly, the tall mazoku stood back up and turned to Helix, towering over him. Helix had learned better than to be intimidated by massive mazoku of this kind, but he was still stunned nonetheless by this elder's status as the father of Xylo.

Quick quips about Helix's pacifism were the first remark directly towards the prophet, and the dragon caste laughed awkwardly. When accused of being not a mazoku, Helix replied frankly. "Of that, I am guilty," Helix explained, looking up at the towering namek, completely forgetting about the dire urgency of the situation, "I am Helix Crust, of the Dragon Caste. Although I may have been beyond your time." It didn't even occur to Helix that for Xylo to have a father, Helix would have to be a fission of his, and been unable to have been born from Porunga. Neither did it occur to Helix that as a fission partner of Xylo, he could not have been born after the death of the Mazoku lord.

Helix had dealt with so many brutal and vicious Mazoku in the afterlife, that he was hoping desperately that this one would be a viable connection, and he could begin to bridge the gap between the castes. But what came out of his mouth was not as eloquent as he had planned. "Not to state the obvious, but you seem to be quite old."

Helix flicked an open palm outwards, pushing back the mist away from him once more as it began to creep too close for comfort. "This mist is powerful magic. I should wonder how one of your caste came upon such magical prowess," Helix remarked with awe, "By my measurement, this mist could also be used as a suppressant, to hide ones power and move in stealth."

If the prophet's assumption was correct, then the man could easily convert this fog into a veil to keep them hidden from the ogres. Helix ventured a conclusion, only half joking, but smiling with awkward friendliness nonethless. "Are you some sort of fugitive?" Helix was clearly uncomfortable in the situation, but was trying to act as if he was perfectly fine. Showing inherent fear for a mazoku just because of his appearance was not going to solve the deeply intrenched inequality between the castes. Or did it run deeper than fear? Was Helix's nervousness in the situation based in some sort of... Fatherly reverence?

As Helix was desperately trying to formulate what to say next to the imposing namekian, he came to a sudden realization. "I don't believe I've gotten your name, Uncle." Helix replied, before pausing once more and releasing a tentative question, his foggy memories already giving him some semblance of an answer. "By your age… Were you not a contemporary of the passed Grand Elder Nai?"

Helix was almost taken aback at the incredible receptiveness of his …adoptive father? The exact relationship didn't really matter. What did matter was the sudden feeling of… familial togetherness. Helix hadn't felt the affection of his fellow namekians since his days before the fall of namek. Helix's time in heaven had left him feeling empty and without his connections to his culture… Was jumping down to hell and going through the ordeals of the tournament all worth it, for this moment?

Immediately, the dragon caste snapped out of it. But still, his father's words echoed in his mind. One day, Helix must lead his own caste… The concept to him certainly wasn't foreign, but he had never faced the truth of it head on. Sure, the prophet's visions had pointed towards this end result, and even now, Nai's presence in his consciousness reminded him of his duty to carry on the dragon caste, but he hadn't fully considered the implications until this very moment.

It was as if only after hearing the words out loud from such a blunt objective observer as his deadbeat dad that they fully registered. Helix was going to have to lead the dragon caste. And if Tuner's casual tone and acceptance of Helix's divergence from the Mazoku was any indication of the relationship between the castes that could be reforged, the future on namek was looking bright. The prophet felt like a little boy again, and couldn't help but smile slightly in return, eyes wide with attentive marvel at the gentle words of his father.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Helix saw all of himself in this seven foot tall mazoku. His prophesies, his relaxed goofy demeanor and gentle words of encouragement… His father was everything he had always hoped he could become. "I've never thought about…" Helix began sheepishly at the thought of leading the dragon caste, "Well…" He had sort of always believed it was his burden to bear deep down, but… Helix looked down.

Just as shadows of doubt began to cloud the prophet's mind, his father placed a large hand on his shoulder, prompting an almost startled reaction from the mystic, who looked up and found himself lost in the reassuring gaze of the taller namekian, who was bending down to eye level with his son.

For some reason, Helix had never felt so certain of his own potential than in that moment, with this behemoth of a mazoku who he had never met before in his life or death crouching next to him to express his belief in his son. The prophet's ears physically widened as the words poured from his father's tongue, chiming in his mind like music, getting him thinking about the future for a first time in a long time. He was right. A large portion of Xylo's success relied on Helix. Together,it was doubtful there was any force in the universe that could stop them from achieving their goals…

But where did they align? Helix didn't know what to say to this man, who suddenly believed so deeply in him and had such a profound impact on his worldview. "T-Thank you..." the prophet stuttered to find an applicable answer to his father's words but the mazoku seemed to already understand what he was trying to say. It was then that he prophesied the most obvious but the most profound advice he had spoken yet; Helix and Xylo were one and the same, and one could not succeed without the other. Only by supporting each other could they prevail in their goals… Be that uniting namek, or conquering the saiyan empire.

"Yes… I understand," Helix's eyes suddenly perked up and he looked up at his father with a characteristic brand of goofy yet passionate determination. "I will not fail you… We will not let you down." What exactly they wouldn't fail at was yet to be determined, but in that moment Helix made a pact with his father to stay loyal to his family, and to work together with his kin.

Helix was wringing his knuckles as the mist continued approaching, Tuner sensed Helix's anxiety and spoke to him about his time prior with dragon mystics. He should've guessed! With the wisdom this mazoku was speaking there had to have been some scholarly folks hanging around him for parables.

When his father finally introduced himself, the name seemed fitting for the figure. Helix smiled genuinely and began to reply. "It's nice to finally meet you—" suddenly Helix was overwhelmed with memories. It was as if a whole vault of knowledge on this man had been unlocked. He felt affection in this moment for Tuner not only as his father, but as a close friend from a past life. For a brief moment, the prophet's mind was inundated with glimpses of the past, of Tuner's previous status as a warrior caste, and of... a nostalgic feeling of the loss of a friend.

But within an instant, it all vanished, and Helix couldn't seem to remember what exactly he was thinking about!

Then came the voices. The words were clearly those of an ogre, and Helix ducked to the ground immediately, preparing his energy for teleportation and shifting close to his brother and father in order to take them with him. Helix couldn't help but flinch at his brother's offensive positioning, but luckily, Tuner seemed to hold some of the good sense that Helix was blessed with.

But nevertheless, in the brief moment of his brother's aggression, Helix once more caught a glimpse of the incredible power hiding inside of him, and was reminded of it's potency. Just a slight push from the mystic would be able to draw that immense energy forth… "Xylo," Helix wisped, unable to decide in the split of the moment. But when his father grabbed him by the shoulder, the decision was made.

"I can teleport us out of here," whispered Helix quickly, but it seemed that Tuner had his own plan. Within moments, Helix and Xylo would be out of the afterlife… entirely. The mystic briefly looked up at his father's eyes, but was quickly dismissed. He was right. There was no time for pleasantries…

There was only time to jump.

"Father, Brother," acknowledged Helix mentally, giving each of them a nod, and then turning to look down at the portal; with a slight grin he took a single step forwards, paused for a single pregnant moment... and allowed himself to drop unceremoniously into the abyss.

Helix's entire odyssey through the afterlife had been worth it. And now it was time to go home.