Post by Wyntre Cold on Jul 8, 2017 10:08:56 GMT
((Blood warning.))
Wyntre had been spending continually larger and larger periods of time in her gravity chamber. She would enter, train, be a part of simulations and then, eventually, she'd craft some favorable simulated alternate world for her to rest in. Excursions to the world outside the ship were becoming rarer and rarer. The only times Kiwano dared bother her was when someone was outside or when Zexama did something horrifically stupid and that was in need of immediate fixing. It wasn't without good reason, though: she was training so that she would become stronger. Strong enough to defeat Zucceta. Strong enough to defeat Habana. Strong enough to defeat Xylo.
She had long since surpassed her brothers, her father, her grandfather and so on. The Cold line, of which all rightful Emperors descended, had never seen a power like hers in… perhaps she was the strongest to ever come out her family, the strongest to come out of her species and the strongest to come out of her Empire. She had much potential: for most of her life she had nary trained a day and yet her power came with age. She was only still growing up, she was still very young, yet her power was phenomenal. Earlier, she had believed that this was a sign that she was meant to rule. Later, she believed that she wouldn't have been given this power if she weren't supposed to use it to defend against a particular threat, but that power was not enough anyway. Finally, after she had reflected on her troubles after having had escapes hell, she had started to believe that she had this power because the gods could think up no better joke. Here she was, perhaps the most powerful member of what was naturally the most powerful race. Yet, here she was, a flea compared to the other leaders.
Vi-Poi was onto something when he noticed the re-emergence of entities with large amounts of ki. Was the way ki seeped into our world somehow sinusoidal, with the current rate of leakage being a crest? No, it was a sudden jump without any apparent (finite) gradient. Perhaps, soon, it will jump back down again. When Vi shared his findings, Wyntre was all too proud to discuss her scientists' work on the same thing, but now, knowing what she does now, she wasn't so sure. It had something to do with the Afterlife, surely: it was only recently when people began to return from the Afterlife, but as soon as it could happen it became quite common.
Wyntre's exclusion simply could not be good for her. Well, yes, sure, physically-speaking she was fitter than she had ever been and stronger than what she had previously only ever dreamed of. But, mentally, with so few to talk to, it was getting to her. There was Zexama, but she was insane. There was Kiwano, but he tried too hard to not displease. There were psychiatrists, but Wyntre's problems were never before seen and their best advice would be something silly like 'make some more friends'. There was Kocha, yes, but she has been avoiding her recently to prevent another awkward encounter from happening. But, this was fiction: doing that only induced more awkward encounters.
It wasn't too long ago when, only a day after their meeting, Kocha had asked to spar in the gravity chamber with her. She didn't have a reason not to and she always appreciated a non-simulated sparring partner, so she accepted. That training session went well. Kocha was becoming more and more able in the intense gravity. Indeed, with only minimal telekinetic support, she had been able to take a few steps in the gravity. Painful steps, but first steps nonetheless. At the end of the day, she had thanked her Empress— she will always be her Empress in her heart— and left for her chambers.
That was the day before. Now, the day after, also entailed training. A lot of training. But, Kocha hadn't entered the gravity chamber as early as she had yesterday. Where was she, anyway? Wyntre stood, nigh-unaffected, in the intense gravity. Her scouter told her that she was nearby… she was more nearby now. Actually, it looked as if she were coming straight to her location. Act naturally.
"Wyntre! I've been looking everywhere for you." She said it not with the annoyance one might expect another to speak these words with, but instead with relief and friendliness.
"This should have been the first place you looked." She said this in a way that continued the time-honored tradition of saying things more harshly than intended. "But…" she began, refusing to allow her first words to her of the day to end sourly, "I'm glad you found me."
Kocha dipped her head down, perhaps in shame. "My deepest apologies." Oh, no, she was being formal again. Wyntre was a fan of formality, very much so, but from Kocha it was annoying and from Zexama she was almost certainly being mocked. She regained her prior posture. "I looked for you to ask for a spar and to train together. But, it seems you're already here. So… would you? I'd like to be more powerful and to help you but I barely have a fifth of a million Power Level units, a fifteenth of your power! I can only help you if I get the power to let me."
Kocha had the strangest feeling that Wyntre had more power available to her, but she had already Mastered her 100% form. What could possibly surpass 100%? "You speak well, Captain Arcose. I was going to train you anyway, but if I weren't that would have convinced me to. Computer, 100x."
After the day before, Ribonu was relatively confident standing in this sort of gravity. It was powerful, very powerful, powerful enough to make her legs scream for collapse, but she could manage it. Gradually, she told herself, it would become easier. Gradually, the great strain would become a mere annoyance. If she lasted seconds in 150x days ago, but she could stand, walk, perhaps even run for extended periods in only a few days time… imagine how powerful she would need to be. Imagine how powerful she would be.
Wyntre observed her posture. She wasn't quite sure from where it came, but Wyntre had the uncanny ability to tell how much effort someone was using to stand in intense gravity. "I've noticed improvements already. Yesterday was long and strenuous, yes, but I can see now that the fruits of your efforts are bountiful. What is the highest level of gravity intensity that you believe yourself to be able to stand in?"
Kocha moved her arms around by punching the air a few times. The air was too shocked to fight back. "Certainly not 150x." At least, not yet. "How about we go in increments of… no, that'd be silly. Let's just do 110x and work our way up."
Ah, yes. "Computer, make it so." And it was made so. "I see we're using small increments, then. It's better than straight from 100x to 150x, certainly."
That had annoyed the hero. Using this conversation was, whether or not it was realized, simply a means to ignore the struggle. "I said I was going to get to 150x on that day, and I did. I knew I would have collapsed if I didn't, so it was strategy. You're all about strategy, aren't you? Being smart is sort of your shtick."
Now it was Wyntre's turn to be annoyed. "Intelligence in fighters should be a necessity, not a 'shtick'. Computer, 120x."
Now was when the real struggle started. She remembered this feeling: she was convinced that it was what death felt like. "It's… It's still so… heavy…" Yes, it was. Very heavy. Absurdly heavy. So heavy that no one should have been expected to lift it. But, with events conspiring against them as is, even being able to hand that sort of weight with ease would not prepare them. "The way it stings… no one should need to feel this sort of pain…"
Wyntre did feel sorry for obligating her into doing such a thing. "Once again, we can stop at any time. Just give the word." At this point it was only a formality: Kocha wasn't going to give up willingly. She had done this once before, so she was confident that she could make it again.
Silence. Poor girl, she must have been concentrating very deeply… she might not have even heard Wyntre's words. "130x."
What was that noise? It almost sounded like Kocha's blood— or whatever amalgamate substance flowed through her— was being forced to move even faster. Could this be a transformation? Perhaps not. From the looks of it, it looked more like an adrenaline rush.
199,809PL.
249,762PL.
299,714PL.
399,618PL.
499,523PL.
549,475PL.
599,427PL.
A powerful adrenaline rush, though. A rush so strong that an already powerful, potentially planet-busting person tripled in power upon receiving it. Wyntre briefly wondered about Kocha's transformations… if she had Saiyan genetic material in her (and she most certainly did), would it not stand to reason that she is capable of achieving some version of the Super Saiyan transformation? Or, really, just about any transformation from any of the species of the genetic donors. Did this not mean that she would also be able to gain the Royal Form? Truly, imagine the power that would come out of a transformation like that…
"140x."
Even with this increase in power (and, by the looks of it, muscle mass) such gravity would still be difficult to handle. But, strangely, she entered a fighting stance. Did she plan on fighting when she could barely stand? Wyntre was ready. She threw a punch, which the Arcosian expertly avoided. Her forward momentum, however, was not so easily avoidable for Kocha herself. She collapsed to the floor. With a struggle and with a push she tried to get herself up, but to no avail.
Wyntre crouched down and (literally and figuratively) offered her a hand. One handshake later and she was on her own two feet again. Cold believed it to be interesting, that Kocha took her hand. She was not in a rage, she did not act like an animal. She recognized her as a friend and as ally. She did not know how the brain would be effected by the adrenaline (or whatever equivalent was used) from a foreign body, but it seemingly had an impact. Or, perhaps she was just concentrating so much that she decided that talking would be a distraction. Or, perhaps this was merely one of the mental properties of Scobians or Kondorians.
For Kondorians, there were no second chances. If any of Kondor's flight-enabled predators got ahold of them… there wouldn't be any use trying to escape, they'd be eaten alive as soon as convenient. Wyntre could not see how a deep concentrative hyperaware state could evolve into them: it would never have been used. Kondorian legends told of a hero, Sinerius, who had a Power Level of what modern scholars estimate was in the thousands (the strongest the planet had seen until interplanetary contact), but he was the only one of his kind in that only he could survive an attack by a Kondorian Sky-Ravager.
Scobians were the more likely option. They had a warrior culture (which was very strange considering there weren't really any people about to be at war with) and not a hunter culture like one might have expected (they did 'war' against the creatures of the deep with equipment that looked like it was designed for killing humanoids) and would have come across situations when great concentration was required to overcome intensely difficult tasks like the one at hand.
Well, Scobians it was. That's that, then.
"150x."
This was it. What she had lasted less than a second in two days ago she was now standing for at least that amount of time. One two, one two. Her heart pumped and pumped and pumped, many times per second, just to get the oxygen around: just to stand.
"… You know…" Pause. What is it that I know? "… With my heart pumping like a fully-automatic blaster shoots…" Pause, again. This must have been exhausting. "… and my blood— or whatever it is— moving at speeds greater than that of blaster shots…" Pause. That last one might have been, Wyntre suspected, hyperbole.
"… I don't think this is too bad, actually."
That was the precise moment when she collapsed.
Wyntre had cradled her fall and had lowered the gravity to something more manageable. Kocha's increased insulin halted and her heart slowed to double digits. Her blood settled down eventually and her increased muscle mass reverted back to its original yet still well-defined state.
When she woke up, all she could see was a hazy shade of grey. She recognized that grey: she was still in the gravity chamber. She had known this almost instantly, though: it was still pushing down on her, oppressing her.
Wyntre could sense her eyes snap open from the other side of the room. "I train in 150x standard gravity. I would like it if I don't have to train in anything lower than that. So, as such, I present you with two options: either train separately until you can manage it or attain the power now."
Kocha rose her head then sat up. What was that supposed to mean? 'Attain the power now'? How? "I want to train with you, I want to be of use, but how could I attain that mastery now? To what 'power' do you refer?"
Their eyes locked. This was not awkward like it had been before, this was serious. "You contain so much potential. Most of my power came naturally, just as much of yours comes to you… but it is only through intense training can I surpass my enemies. You contain within you genetic material from species with transformations. You have Saiyan blood, figuratively, within you. I have seen hybrid Saiyans use the so-called 'Super Saiyan' transformation despite being only a sixteenth— was it a sixteenth?— yes, despite being only a sixteenth Saiyan. Surely, then, you could do it as well."
One sixteenth? 6.25%? That wasn't much, certainly, but it was still enough. However… "There's only a few percent of Ribonu made with Saiyan genetic material." Oh? So she wasn't calling it 'my body', but 'Ribonu'? Understandable, perhaps. There was also the fact that the computer intelligence that designed Ribonu used so little Saiyan material, implying their limited genetic uses. That mildly amused her. "If you're suggesting that I try to activate the 'Super Saiyan' transformation… that just won't work. Human/Saiyan hybrids can go 'Super' because they're similar enough species for the… you're doing that face again. You know why some can and others can't, but I can't, so why must you insist that I try?"
Yes, Wyntre knew exactly why Saiyan hybrids only needed a small amount of Saiyan in them to activate the transformation. She also knew why certain species, when mixed with Saiyans, produce non-transforming children (theoretically, of course, Super Saiyans thankfully aren't populous enough to verify). Those hybrids tended to be of the unfortunate, mentally-challenged, infertile and malformed variety, though. Kocha was none of those things.
"Because," she began, "if I wasn't sure it would work I wouldn't get you to try. I am sure it would work, hence, we can try."
That wasn't the answer Kocha wanted. She wanted some smart reason that involved complicated genetics, but she got the equivalent of 'because I think so'. "Why are so sure that it work, then?" she asked, exasperated. Wyntre did like long and wordy answers, did she not? She hoped to receive one.
Wyntre didn't look too sure. Was it the case that she was operating on a 'gut feeling'? The rational once-Empress of Arcose who liked logical and sensical explanations for just about everything, was having a 'gut feeling'? It was preposterous, it was unforeseen, yet it was a distinct possibility. "The machine that created Ribonu, the designer of your body's genetic code, chose genetic material based off of what it believed to be the best fit of its given specifications, yes?" Yes, that was the case. Some of the criteria that the computer's creation was judged on included a humanoid shape, standard facial features, hair, containing suitably appropriate vocal chords, a suitably sized brain, having a considerable amount being Wyntre's genetic code and having a considerable amount being Kocha's original body's genetic code. The combinations that fit those specifications were then chosen based off of power and how much like a standard humanoid female it looked. "Less than 6% (presumably far less) of Ribonu's genetic material came from Saiyans. As nice as this is, what do you suppose that chosen material does?"
That was a good answer, in the form of a question, to her question. What did it do? Well, perhaps the Saiyan genes concerned with 'change-resistant' hair made it in, but her hair was arrangeable and annoyingly longer (it wasn't very long, but her original body didn't have any hair so it might as well have been) than was used to. It certainly wasn't the 'spiky hair' or 'black hair' genes either, as neither 'symptoms' were displayed. It wasn't something about Blutz Waves sensitivity, was it? She hoped not. Well… it could have been the zenkai, yes, but going about proving that would be dangerous. Besides, did the Computer plan on having her enter near-death situations? No, she decided, what Wyntre was hinting at was the most likely option. She might have, if it's a thing, the gene or genes that enabled the Super Saiyan transformation. She doubted she could go 'Great Ape': why give a Superhero such a destructive and uncontrollable form? So, it was either zenkai or going golden. Neither would be easy to prove. "I understand where you're coming from. I tentatively agree. But how are we going to activate such an elusive transformation?"
Why, Kocha, I'm glad you asked. "At my disposal I have a gravity chamber with a state-of-the-art simulator. The computer can recreate the events surrounding you being placed in Ribonu and the Mazoku Invasion of Scobia through news accounts, satellite picturing and your father's scouter's recording of the entire ordeal."
She could do that? "Wait— what?" She briefly wondered whether or not Feuskry, her father, had known he was recording those events, but that thought disappeared like a fly in a storm. "You—! You'd have me relive the death of my mother?"
Yes, that was exactly what she'd do. "If I weren't sure that it is necessary I wouldn't be having you do what I'm asking you to do. Do you trust me?"
Kocha fiercely slapped her Empress. "I do, but I'm not going through that again!"
Wyntre had hardly noticed that she'd been slapped. Do you really trust me, Kocha? Or do you merely idolize me? "I apologize for putting you in such a situation, I truly do, but you could only activate such a transformation under great duress. You would not be able to defeat your enemies without it. You would not be able to defend Scobia against its threats without it."
She slapped Wyntre again.
And again.
And again.
And then she stopped oh just kidding she slapped her again.
"… Fine. I get it. Let's do it."
This wasn't going to be easy, no one said that it would be anything resembling anything easy. No, the entire point was to put her in extreme mental and physical duress and trigger what little Saiyan she had in her to go Super Saiyan. "Computer…" It knew what to expect. "You know what to do."
Wyntre disappeared, fading into the nothingness, leaving Kocha alone in the chamber. But, soon, even that began to melt away. It started at the walls but it crept in as everything that was simply faded away. She floated in the endless expanse for a few seconds, afraid, unsure of what exactly the simulation would entail. But, soon, just as one reality fell apart, another came together in its place. Yet, still, she saw nothing… and what was that smell?
She pushed the blanket off of her. It hadn't been long ago when she had slept in this bed, yet it felt like an eternity ago. But, her hands— they were different! She recognized them immediately, as they were her own. Not the hands of Ribonu, the child of many donors, but of Kocha Kinoko, the hybrid child of the colonizer and the colonized. Seeing this was startling in itself: she had never expected that she would be parted from these hands so quickly. She touched her face… was this even a simulation? It was just so realistic, it was hard to tell. Although, she supposed, that was the point behind the exercise.
She felt so much… weaker, smaller. She was a twig now, her Power Level in the early hundreds. She looked around: her room! Oh, how quickly she had outgrown it! How strange it was, to smell her room with her own nose, to see it with her own eyes and the feel the softness of her bed with her own body.
"The Mazoku have arrived! They're here!"
Mother…
"We've done this once before, we can do it again! Kocha, get to the lab!" She did see her face, as she was in the next room, but she could still picture her mother saying those words.
There was no time to waste. She needed to get to the laboratory, her father's laboratory, before the Mazoku killed them all. She jumped out of bed and noticed that the gravity was on. What setting was it on? She didn't know, but it was sure to increase later.
Mother… There she was, right in front of her own two eyes. It was a simulation, she reminded herself, but she found it increasingly difficult alienated from the situation. This felt real… it may as well have been. She was going to save her mother, she was sure of it. She could do it, certainly! All she'd need to do is defeat the demon before it killed her mother. There were problems with that, though: the demon's Power Level was in the thousands. Hers was only a barely a tenth of that. She only defeated the demon after forsaking her original body for that of Ribonu, something that was only possible after Gesivii, her mother, distracted the beast with her intact warrior spirit. How would she do this, then? Was it possible?
"What's gotten into you? Come on!" And, just like that, she snapped out of her rushed worry. No, there wasn't time to worry: after all, they were being invaded.
She felt her legs move. She couldn't feel her body, but she moved anyway… oh, gods, not this…
They were in the basement. Gesivii pressed on the metal latch (it looked at odds with the dirty rest of the room) and pulled, revealing the secret entrance to Feuskry's personal laboratory.
CRASH!
That wasn't a meteor strike, that wasn't even a Mazoku soldier attacking, that was different.
Kocha knew exactly what it was.
Kocha knew exactly what would come out of it.
Kocha knew exactly what would come of it.
They heard a blood-curdlingly demonic roar, one Kocha would hear many more times in her nightmares. That was no attack, that was an attack pod… and, now, the demon from within crawled its way out. They heard it walk around the base level above them in, sniffing, dust falling from the roof whenever it made steps with any of its four pawed feet.
"I'll distract the invader. You go on ahead, meet with Dad, maybe find some way to escape, got it?" Her words were fierce yet gentle, rushed yet soft. She remembered those words… she remembered them so well. Those would have been her final words heard by Kocha, if not for the following utterances: "I'll be fine. Go!"
Oh, if only that were the case.
Kocha stood her ground, though. She remembered when this happened… she remembered the sound of her running as she fled… she remembered her mother's screams echo on from afar… she remembered the rage it filled her with. She regretted obeying. She regretted running. She regretted being weak.
The beast knew where they were. With a smack of its axe, much of the roof gave way, revealing (past the thick dust) the demon itself. "I said, 'go'! I can handle Whiskers the Wonder Cat over here!"
But her little mortal legs wouldn't budge, not like last time. She'll show the beast, she told herself, she won't be weak. She'll be strong enough— we'll be strong enough!" She was wearing her sleeping clothes, but she had her war face. No matter how much she had to push herself, no matter how weak her current body was… she could do this.
I can do this.
I've wanted to do this for so long.
You don't have to die.
I can save you.
She could 't power up. She was already using all of her power… her small, pitiful power.
How could she win? Her power was abysmal, her enemy's power level was in the thousands. How could she dent it? How, feasibly, could she save her mother?
How could she lose? Her mind was set on this. Fate itself, it seemed, was on her side. If she would win, if she was meant to win, if the simulation did all of this for her to win… what was stopping her?
She jumped at the beast and began furiously slashing at its neck. "NO!" But, it was too late. No more second chances.
The demon held her by her neck as if she were vermin as she was smashed into the floorboards.
No, there was no way for her to have won. What was that taste? Blood. Her own. The pain… it was worse than the gravity. It was as if her whole body was crushed. The pain was everywhere, leaving the hybrid in a desperate rage. No… no! She would not give up so earlier! Not after only one attack!
The world sought to see her fall, but she persevered. With a struggle and great pain, she rose from the puddle of her own blood. She could only manage a glance at her mother before complete annihilation.
No second chances.
"The Mazoku have arrived! They're here!"
Mother?
"We've done this once before, we can do it again! Kocha, get to the lab!"
Her eyes opened. But… how did—? Had she died? She remembered those words. They were doing it again, the simulation was giving her another chance. What was she to do? Have her mother die? No, she refused!
She hadn't been there when her mother died in real life. She had ran ahead, deeper into the lab, to her father… she did not see her mother die, she could scarcely hold the thought. She heard a scream, a scream she will never forget, and that was indication enough.
She found tears welling up in her eyes. What had happened to all of her bravado? What had happened to bravery in the face of death? She was a weak child on a weak world faced with the tsunami of larger powers. It was infuriating, it was saddening, it was disheartening, but she was forced to endure.
She got out of bed, tears uncontrollably flowing from her eyes. She slammed her way past the door and, upon seeing her mother, grappled her into a hug. "What's gotten into you? Let go of me and go!"
CRASH!
But it was too late for that.
It didn't matter how many times she did it. It didn't matter how much pain it caused. It didn't matter how many times she had to die… she would never let her mother die again.
She jumped at it like before but managed to wrangle her way onto its back. Gesivii confusedly and worriedly looked on as her daughter, in an uncharacteristically miserable rage, tried to put out bits of its mane. But, when she tried to use the opportunity to attack it with her spear while it was distracted… it caught the blade and used it to whack her into a wall with a powerful force.
Kocha was too blinded by rage to see that, though. She didn't even see the beast's arms trying to pull her off. But, not one second later, it had knocked her off of him.
Kocha hit the floor at great speed, her head ringing with pain. The demon heartily laughed, enjoying the sight of his enemies at his hooves. It stepped on her torso, forcing all of the air out of her lungs as well as causing great pain as at least a few ribs broke. But, she didn't scream: she was far too determined to scream.
He shifted his weight to get a closer look at the dangling body beneath his foot.
Sniff.
Sniff.
He gave another laugh. "You do not smell like the others. The others smell of fish, you smell of fish and of bird. But, your ribs break like the others, you hate me like the others and you will die like the others. What do you think will be the most cruel? Forcing a mother to see her daughter die before her eyes, or the other way around?"
Kocha couldn't hear what he said. All she could hear was the ringing in her head and the thumping of her heart.
"Well, you are right here and your mother is probably watching, so… goodnight, bird-fishy."
Before the demon could force its foot to the floor and through her heart, though, Gesivii had stabbed it away with her spear. Again, the demon grabbed onto the spear but, in its pained roar, snapped it in twain with its fingers. "You—! No, I've changed my mind! You will be the first to die!"
Gesivii, damaged and bloody, found difficulty standing. Kocha forced herself up, despite the great pain, and threw herself onto a wall to stay upright. "Kocha, you can still get to your father. Leave Whiskers the Wonder Cat to me and go!"
But Kocha wasn't having any of that. The behemoth laughed, again, finding humor in the situation. "There is no running away from me. There is no hiding from me. There is no defeating me. Beg for your life… perhaps I will make your end painless."
The beast trotted over to Gesivii, who couldn't even muster the energy to move. "You hit hard, you piece of shit."
It snatched her body violently, holding her in a single arm. What Gesivii felt next could only have been described as her entire body wishing to contract into a single point as she was squeezed. "I try my best."
No…
No, not again. Never again.
No second chances!
No backing out!
No regret!
No remorse!
Many of her bones were broken… her muscles ached… her legs seemed contend to just die already… but she stood up, on her own two feet. Never again. She shambled her way over to them, death on her face, which only served to amuse the Mazoku lackey. "Oh, would you look at that. You fish just don't know when to quit… I wonder if the struggle will make you taste any better. But, alas, I grow bored with you, and I smell a bird over in that direction." He pointed a finger behind him. "I'll just have to kill you at the same time."
It casually tossed the mother onto the daughter, cruelty in his eyes, as he shot a concentrated green ki beam straight through both of their hearts…
"Heheheheh. Don't feel so bad, fishies. At least you die together."
Blood. There was blood everywhere. Gesivii could barely speak as they lied in each others arms, moments from death, soaked in their combined blood. "K-Kocha… I-I'm sorry… so s-sorry…"
No, no, no, no… no, never again.
The beast cackled at them, casually telling himself estimates of how long it would take until they died. No… no… no!
"… I-I'm afraid… then… t-that this is it…"
She pulled her mother closer as tears intermingled with blood.
"… I'm s-sorry, Kocha. This… this was a good r-run…"
Not yet…
No…
Not yet…
No…
And she was gone.
No!
Suddenly, it was all too much. Something snapped, something primal. She forced herself up, seemingly unaffected by her condition, and spoke her first word in a while.
This was one of the many things that seemed to amuse the beast. "Oh? It seems you still have some more fight in you. Take the hint, kid. You're outmatched."
She took one step towards him, her body hardly keeping itself together. "…No! Y-you… you bastard! You killed my mother!" An explosion of yellow ki accompanied her step, but her enemy seemed not to care.
The creature, wishing to end their conflict, shot another concentrated ki beam at her, this time aimed at her heart.
Fwoosh.
She was unaffected. "W-What did you do? That should have been enough to kill you a dozen times over! What are you?"
Yellow flared around Kocha again, accompanied by the sound of thunder crashing across the sky. In the span of less than a second, Kocha's original body was replaced with her current Ribonu body. But… something was different.
"What… What the hell are you!?"
Her hair flashed with yellow for a moment. It definitely noticed this time. It thrust its fist's weight at her her in a maximum-power punch… which she caught with her finger.
Kocha took ahold of the beast's gigantic fist and squeezed it, forcing it to sit on its four legs as it cried in distress.
She flashed with gold again. Not just her hair, but her entire body seemed to switch between its usual red and yellow with increasing frequency. She punched it across the maw with a force far greater than anything it should have been able to take, allowing it to writhe in pain beneath her in an attempt to relocate its jaw.
She flashed gold again, her skin and hair changing color. Her hair and eyebrows became spiky yet symmetrical, while her eyes, interestingly, went red in a manner reminiscent of an Arcosian.
But, this effect did not fade, it did not falter, it did not fail. No, she was a Scobian, yes, and she was a Kondorian, and she was an Arcosian… but this was real. She was a Super Saiyan, without all of the stupid 'desire for battle' bits holding her back.
"B-but… how?"
It was a legitimate question. But, as things go… Super Saiyan rage had no time for legitimate questions.
Masses of compact red ki gathered around her eyes, emitting so much light that the rest of the room appeared dark in comparison.
The red sped forwards!
Wyntre had been spending continually larger and larger periods of time in her gravity chamber. She would enter, train, be a part of simulations and then, eventually, she'd craft some favorable simulated alternate world for her to rest in. Excursions to the world outside the ship were becoming rarer and rarer. The only times Kiwano dared bother her was when someone was outside or when Zexama did something horrifically stupid and that was in need of immediate fixing. It wasn't without good reason, though: she was training so that she would become stronger. Strong enough to defeat Zucceta. Strong enough to defeat Habana. Strong enough to defeat Xylo.
She had long since surpassed her brothers, her father, her grandfather and so on. The Cold line, of which all rightful Emperors descended, had never seen a power like hers in… perhaps she was the strongest to ever come out her family, the strongest to come out of her species and the strongest to come out of her Empire. She had much potential: for most of her life she had nary trained a day and yet her power came with age. She was only still growing up, she was still very young, yet her power was phenomenal. Earlier, she had believed that this was a sign that she was meant to rule. Later, she believed that she wouldn't have been given this power if she weren't supposed to use it to defend against a particular threat, but that power was not enough anyway. Finally, after she had reflected on her troubles after having had escapes hell, she had started to believe that she had this power because the gods could think up no better joke. Here she was, perhaps the most powerful member of what was naturally the most powerful race. Yet, here she was, a flea compared to the other leaders.
Vi-Poi was onto something when he noticed the re-emergence of entities with large amounts of ki. Was the way ki seeped into our world somehow sinusoidal, with the current rate of leakage being a crest? No, it was a sudden jump without any apparent (finite) gradient. Perhaps, soon, it will jump back down again. When Vi shared his findings, Wyntre was all too proud to discuss her scientists' work on the same thing, but now, knowing what she does now, she wasn't so sure. It had something to do with the Afterlife, surely: it was only recently when people began to return from the Afterlife, but as soon as it could happen it became quite common.
Wyntre's exclusion simply could not be good for her. Well, yes, sure, physically-speaking she was fitter than she had ever been and stronger than what she had previously only ever dreamed of. But, mentally, with so few to talk to, it was getting to her. There was Zexama, but she was insane. There was Kiwano, but he tried too hard to not displease. There were psychiatrists, but Wyntre's problems were never before seen and their best advice would be something silly like 'make some more friends'. There was Kocha, yes, but she has been avoiding her recently to prevent another awkward encounter from happening. But, this was fiction: doing that only induced more awkward encounters.
It wasn't too long ago when, only a day after their meeting, Kocha had asked to spar in the gravity chamber with her. She didn't have a reason not to and she always appreciated a non-simulated sparring partner, so she accepted. That training session went well. Kocha was becoming more and more able in the intense gravity. Indeed, with only minimal telekinetic support, she had been able to take a few steps in the gravity. Painful steps, but first steps nonetheless. At the end of the day, she had thanked her Empress— she will always be her Empress in her heart— and left for her chambers.
That was the day before. Now, the day after, also entailed training. A lot of training. But, Kocha hadn't entered the gravity chamber as early as she had yesterday. Where was she, anyway? Wyntre stood, nigh-unaffected, in the intense gravity. Her scouter told her that she was nearby… she was more nearby now. Actually, it looked as if she were coming straight to her location. Act naturally.
"Wyntre! I've been looking everywhere for you." She said it not with the annoyance one might expect another to speak these words with, but instead with relief and friendliness.
"This should have been the first place you looked." She said this in a way that continued the time-honored tradition of saying things more harshly than intended. "But…" she began, refusing to allow her first words to her of the day to end sourly, "I'm glad you found me."
Kocha dipped her head down, perhaps in shame. "My deepest apologies." Oh, no, she was being formal again. Wyntre was a fan of formality, very much so, but from Kocha it was annoying and from Zexama she was almost certainly being mocked. She regained her prior posture. "I looked for you to ask for a spar and to train together. But, it seems you're already here. So… would you? I'd like to be more powerful and to help you but I barely have a fifth of a million Power Level units, a fifteenth of your power! I can only help you if I get the power to let me."
Kocha had the strangest feeling that Wyntre had more power available to her, but she had already Mastered her 100% form. What could possibly surpass 100%? "You speak well, Captain Arcose. I was going to train you anyway, but if I weren't that would have convinced me to. Computer, 100x."
After the day before, Ribonu was relatively confident standing in this sort of gravity. It was powerful, very powerful, powerful enough to make her legs scream for collapse, but she could manage it. Gradually, she told herself, it would become easier. Gradually, the great strain would become a mere annoyance. If she lasted seconds in 150x days ago, but she could stand, walk, perhaps even run for extended periods in only a few days time… imagine how powerful she would need to be. Imagine how powerful she would be.
Wyntre observed her posture. She wasn't quite sure from where it came, but Wyntre had the uncanny ability to tell how much effort someone was using to stand in intense gravity. "I've noticed improvements already. Yesterday was long and strenuous, yes, but I can see now that the fruits of your efforts are bountiful. What is the highest level of gravity intensity that you believe yourself to be able to stand in?"
Kocha moved her arms around by punching the air a few times. The air was too shocked to fight back. "Certainly not 150x." At least, not yet. "How about we go in increments of… no, that'd be silly. Let's just do 110x and work our way up."
Ah, yes. "Computer, make it so." And it was made so. "I see we're using small increments, then. It's better than straight from 100x to 150x, certainly."
That had annoyed the hero. Using this conversation was, whether or not it was realized, simply a means to ignore the struggle. "I said I was going to get to 150x on that day, and I did. I knew I would have collapsed if I didn't, so it was strategy. You're all about strategy, aren't you? Being smart is sort of your shtick."
Now it was Wyntre's turn to be annoyed. "Intelligence in fighters should be a necessity, not a 'shtick'. Computer, 120x."
Now was when the real struggle started. She remembered this feeling: she was convinced that it was what death felt like. "It's… It's still so… heavy…" Yes, it was. Very heavy. Absurdly heavy. So heavy that no one should have been expected to lift it. But, with events conspiring against them as is, even being able to hand that sort of weight with ease would not prepare them. "The way it stings… no one should need to feel this sort of pain…"
Wyntre did feel sorry for obligating her into doing such a thing. "Once again, we can stop at any time. Just give the word." At this point it was only a formality: Kocha wasn't going to give up willingly. She had done this once before, so she was confident that she could make it again.
Silence. Poor girl, she must have been concentrating very deeply… she might not have even heard Wyntre's words. "130x."
What was that noise? It almost sounded like Kocha's blood— or whatever amalgamate substance flowed through her— was being forced to move even faster. Could this be a transformation? Perhaps not. From the looks of it, it looked more like an adrenaline rush.
199,809PL.
249,762PL.
299,714PL.
399,618PL.
499,523PL.
549,475PL.
599,427PL.
A powerful adrenaline rush, though. A rush so strong that an already powerful, potentially planet-busting person tripled in power upon receiving it. Wyntre briefly wondered about Kocha's transformations… if she had Saiyan genetic material in her (and she most certainly did), would it not stand to reason that she is capable of achieving some version of the Super Saiyan transformation? Or, really, just about any transformation from any of the species of the genetic donors. Did this not mean that she would also be able to gain the Royal Form? Truly, imagine the power that would come out of a transformation like that…
"140x."
Even with this increase in power (and, by the looks of it, muscle mass) such gravity would still be difficult to handle. But, strangely, she entered a fighting stance. Did she plan on fighting when she could barely stand? Wyntre was ready. She threw a punch, which the Arcosian expertly avoided. Her forward momentum, however, was not so easily avoidable for Kocha herself. She collapsed to the floor. With a struggle and with a push she tried to get herself up, but to no avail.
Wyntre crouched down and (literally and figuratively) offered her a hand. One handshake later and she was on her own two feet again. Cold believed it to be interesting, that Kocha took her hand. She was not in a rage, she did not act like an animal. She recognized her as a friend and as ally. She did not know how the brain would be effected by the adrenaline (or whatever equivalent was used) from a foreign body, but it seemingly had an impact. Or, perhaps she was just concentrating so much that she decided that talking would be a distraction. Or, perhaps this was merely one of the mental properties of Scobians or Kondorians.
For Kondorians, there were no second chances. If any of Kondor's flight-enabled predators got ahold of them… there wouldn't be any use trying to escape, they'd be eaten alive as soon as convenient. Wyntre could not see how a deep concentrative hyperaware state could evolve into them: it would never have been used. Kondorian legends told of a hero, Sinerius, who had a Power Level of what modern scholars estimate was in the thousands (the strongest the planet had seen until interplanetary contact), but he was the only one of his kind in that only he could survive an attack by a Kondorian Sky-Ravager.
Scobians were the more likely option. They had a warrior culture (which was very strange considering there weren't really any people about to be at war with) and not a hunter culture like one might have expected (they did 'war' against the creatures of the deep with equipment that looked like it was designed for killing humanoids) and would have come across situations when great concentration was required to overcome intensely difficult tasks like the one at hand.
Well, Scobians it was. That's that, then.
"150x."
This was it. What she had lasted less than a second in two days ago she was now standing for at least that amount of time. One two, one two. Her heart pumped and pumped and pumped, many times per second, just to get the oxygen around: just to stand.
"… You know…" Pause. What is it that I know? "… With my heart pumping like a fully-automatic blaster shoots…" Pause, again. This must have been exhausting. "… and my blood— or whatever it is— moving at speeds greater than that of blaster shots…" Pause. That last one might have been, Wyntre suspected, hyperbole.
"… I don't think this is too bad, actually."
That was the precise moment when she collapsed.
Wyntre had cradled her fall and had lowered the gravity to something more manageable. Kocha's increased insulin halted and her heart slowed to double digits. Her blood settled down eventually and her increased muscle mass reverted back to its original yet still well-defined state.
When she woke up, all she could see was a hazy shade of grey. She recognized that grey: she was still in the gravity chamber. She had known this almost instantly, though: it was still pushing down on her, oppressing her.
Wyntre could sense her eyes snap open from the other side of the room. "I train in 150x standard gravity. I would like it if I don't have to train in anything lower than that. So, as such, I present you with two options: either train separately until you can manage it or attain the power now."
Kocha rose her head then sat up. What was that supposed to mean? 'Attain the power now'? How? "I want to train with you, I want to be of use, but how could I attain that mastery now? To what 'power' do you refer?"
Their eyes locked. This was not awkward like it had been before, this was serious. "You contain so much potential. Most of my power came naturally, just as much of yours comes to you… but it is only through intense training can I surpass my enemies. You contain within you genetic material from species with transformations. You have Saiyan blood, figuratively, within you. I have seen hybrid Saiyans use the so-called 'Super Saiyan' transformation despite being only a sixteenth— was it a sixteenth?— yes, despite being only a sixteenth Saiyan. Surely, then, you could do it as well."
One sixteenth? 6.25%? That wasn't much, certainly, but it was still enough. However… "There's only a few percent of Ribonu made with Saiyan genetic material." Oh? So she wasn't calling it 'my body', but 'Ribonu'? Understandable, perhaps. There was also the fact that the computer intelligence that designed Ribonu used so little Saiyan material, implying their limited genetic uses. That mildly amused her. "If you're suggesting that I try to activate the 'Super Saiyan' transformation… that just won't work. Human/Saiyan hybrids can go 'Super' because they're similar enough species for the… you're doing that face again. You know why some can and others can't, but I can't, so why must you insist that I try?"
Yes, Wyntre knew exactly why Saiyan hybrids only needed a small amount of Saiyan in them to activate the transformation. She also knew why certain species, when mixed with Saiyans, produce non-transforming children (theoretically, of course, Super Saiyans thankfully aren't populous enough to verify). Those hybrids tended to be of the unfortunate, mentally-challenged, infertile and malformed variety, though. Kocha was none of those things.
"Because," she began, "if I wasn't sure it would work I wouldn't get you to try. I am sure it would work, hence, we can try."
That wasn't the answer Kocha wanted. She wanted some smart reason that involved complicated genetics, but she got the equivalent of 'because I think so'. "Why are so sure that it work, then?" she asked, exasperated. Wyntre did like long and wordy answers, did she not? She hoped to receive one.
Wyntre didn't look too sure. Was it the case that she was operating on a 'gut feeling'? The rational once-Empress of Arcose who liked logical and sensical explanations for just about everything, was having a 'gut feeling'? It was preposterous, it was unforeseen, yet it was a distinct possibility. "The machine that created Ribonu, the designer of your body's genetic code, chose genetic material based off of what it believed to be the best fit of its given specifications, yes?" Yes, that was the case. Some of the criteria that the computer's creation was judged on included a humanoid shape, standard facial features, hair, containing suitably appropriate vocal chords, a suitably sized brain, having a considerable amount being Wyntre's genetic code and having a considerable amount being Kocha's original body's genetic code. The combinations that fit those specifications were then chosen based off of power and how much like a standard humanoid female it looked. "Less than 6% (presumably far less) of Ribonu's genetic material came from Saiyans. As nice as this is, what do you suppose that chosen material does?"
That was a good answer, in the form of a question, to her question. What did it do? Well, perhaps the Saiyan genes concerned with 'change-resistant' hair made it in, but her hair was arrangeable and annoyingly longer (it wasn't very long, but her original body didn't have any hair so it might as well have been) than was used to. It certainly wasn't the 'spiky hair' or 'black hair' genes either, as neither 'symptoms' were displayed. It wasn't something about Blutz Waves sensitivity, was it? She hoped not. Well… it could have been the zenkai, yes, but going about proving that would be dangerous. Besides, did the Computer plan on having her enter near-death situations? No, she decided, what Wyntre was hinting at was the most likely option. She might have, if it's a thing, the gene or genes that enabled the Super Saiyan transformation. She doubted she could go 'Great Ape': why give a Superhero such a destructive and uncontrollable form? So, it was either zenkai or going golden. Neither would be easy to prove. "I understand where you're coming from. I tentatively agree. But how are we going to activate such an elusive transformation?"
Why, Kocha, I'm glad you asked. "At my disposal I have a gravity chamber with a state-of-the-art simulator. The computer can recreate the events surrounding you being placed in Ribonu and the Mazoku Invasion of Scobia through news accounts, satellite picturing and your father's scouter's recording of the entire ordeal."
She could do that? "Wait— what?" She briefly wondered whether or not Feuskry, her father, had known he was recording those events, but that thought disappeared like a fly in a storm. "You—! You'd have me relive the death of my mother?"
Yes, that was exactly what she'd do. "If I weren't sure that it is necessary I wouldn't be having you do what I'm asking you to do. Do you trust me?"
Kocha fiercely slapped her Empress. "I do, but I'm not going through that again!"
Wyntre had hardly noticed that she'd been slapped. Do you really trust me, Kocha? Or do you merely idolize me? "I apologize for putting you in such a situation, I truly do, but you could only activate such a transformation under great duress. You would not be able to defeat your enemies without it. You would not be able to defend Scobia against its threats without it."
She slapped Wyntre again.
And again.
And again.
And then she stopped oh just kidding she slapped her again.
"… Fine. I get it. Let's do it."
This wasn't going to be easy, no one said that it would be anything resembling anything easy. No, the entire point was to put her in extreme mental and physical duress and trigger what little Saiyan she had in her to go Super Saiyan. "Computer…" It knew what to expect. "You know what to do."
Wyntre disappeared, fading into the nothingness, leaving Kocha alone in the chamber. But, soon, even that began to melt away. It started at the walls but it crept in as everything that was simply faded away. She floated in the endless expanse for a few seconds, afraid, unsure of what exactly the simulation would entail. But, soon, just as one reality fell apart, another came together in its place. Yet, still, she saw nothing… and what was that smell?
She pushed the blanket off of her. It hadn't been long ago when she had slept in this bed, yet it felt like an eternity ago. But, her hands— they were different! She recognized them immediately, as they were her own. Not the hands of Ribonu, the child of many donors, but of Kocha Kinoko, the hybrid child of the colonizer and the colonized. Seeing this was startling in itself: she had never expected that she would be parted from these hands so quickly. She touched her face… was this even a simulation? It was just so realistic, it was hard to tell. Although, she supposed, that was the point behind the exercise.
She felt so much… weaker, smaller. She was a twig now, her Power Level in the early hundreds. She looked around: her room! Oh, how quickly she had outgrown it! How strange it was, to smell her room with her own nose, to see it with her own eyes and the feel the softness of her bed with her own body.
"The Mazoku have arrived! They're here!"
Mother…
"We've done this once before, we can do it again! Kocha, get to the lab!" She did see her face, as she was in the next room, but she could still picture her mother saying those words.
There was no time to waste. She needed to get to the laboratory, her father's laboratory, before the Mazoku killed them all. She jumped out of bed and noticed that the gravity was on. What setting was it on? She didn't know, but it was sure to increase later.
Mother… There she was, right in front of her own two eyes. It was a simulation, she reminded herself, but she found it increasingly difficult alienated from the situation. This felt real… it may as well have been. She was going to save her mother, she was sure of it. She could do it, certainly! All she'd need to do is defeat the demon before it killed her mother. There were problems with that, though: the demon's Power Level was in the thousands. Hers was only a barely a tenth of that. She only defeated the demon after forsaking her original body for that of Ribonu, something that was only possible after Gesivii, her mother, distracted the beast with her intact warrior spirit. How would she do this, then? Was it possible?
"What's gotten into you? Come on!" And, just like that, she snapped out of her rushed worry. No, there wasn't time to worry: after all, they were being invaded.
She felt her legs move. She couldn't feel her body, but she moved anyway… oh, gods, not this…
They were in the basement. Gesivii pressed on the metal latch (it looked at odds with the dirty rest of the room) and pulled, revealing the secret entrance to Feuskry's personal laboratory.
CRASH!
That wasn't a meteor strike, that wasn't even a Mazoku soldier attacking, that was different.
Kocha knew exactly what it was.
Kocha knew exactly what would come out of it.
Kocha knew exactly what would come of it.
They heard a blood-curdlingly demonic roar, one Kocha would hear many more times in her nightmares. That was no attack, that was an attack pod… and, now, the demon from within crawled its way out. They heard it walk around the base level above them in, sniffing, dust falling from the roof whenever it made steps with any of its four pawed feet.
"I'll distract the invader. You go on ahead, meet with Dad, maybe find some way to escape, got it?" Her words were fierce yet gentle, rushed yet soft. She remembered those words… she remembered them so well. Those would have been her final words heard by Kocha, if not for the following utterances: "I'll be fine. Go!"
Oh, if only that were the case.
Kocha stood her ground, though. She remembered when this happened… she remembered the sound of her running as she fled… she remembered her mother's screams echo on from afar… she remembered the rage it filled her with. She regretted obeying. She regretted running. She regretted being weak.
The beast knew where they were. With a smack of its axe, much of the roof gave way, revealing (past the thick dust) the demon itself. "I said, 'go'! I can handle Whiskers the Wonder Cat over here!"
But her little mortal legs wouldn't budge, not like last time. She'll show the beast, she told herself, she won't be weak. She'll be strong enough— we'll be strong enough!" She was wearing her sleeping clothes, but she had her war face. No matter how much she had to push herself, no matter how weak her current body was… she could do this.
I can do this.
I've wanted to do this for so long.
You don't have to die.
I can save you.
She could 't power up. She was already using all of her power… her small, pitiful power.
How could she win? Her power was abysmal, her enemy's power level was in the thousands. How could she dent it? How, feasibly, could she save her mother?
How could she lose? Her mind was set on this. Fate itself, it seemed, was on her side. If she would win, if she was meant to win, if the simulation did all of this for her to win… what was stopping her?
She jumped at the beast and began furiously slashing at its neck. "NO!" But, it was too late. No more second chances.
The demon held her by her neck as if she were vermin as she was smashed into the floorboards.
No, there was no way for her to have won. What was that taste? Blood. Her own. The pain… it was worse than the gravity. It was as if her whole body was crushed. The pain was everywhere, leaving the hybrid in a desperate rage. No… no! She would not give up so earlier! Not after only one attack!
The world sought to see her fall, but she persevered. With a struggle and great pain, she rose from the puddle of her own blood. She could only manage a glance at her mother before complete annihilation.
No second chances.
"The Mazoku have arrived! They're here!"
Mother?
"We've done this once before, we can do it again! Kocha, get to the lab!"
Her eyes opened. But… how did—? Had she died? She remembered those words. They were doing it again, the simulation was giving her another chance. What was she to do? Have her mother die? No, she refused!
She hadn't been there when her mother died in real life. She had ran ahead, deeper into the lab, to her father… she did not see her mother die, she could scarcely hold the thought. She heard a scream, a scream she will never forget, and that was indication enough.
She found tears welling up in her eyes. What had happened to all of her bravado? What had happened to bravery in the face of death? She was a weak child on a weak world faced with the tsunami of larger powers. It was infuriating, it was saddening, it was disheartening, but she was forced to endure.
She got out of bed, tears uncontrollably flowing from her eyes. She slammed her way past the door and, upon seeing her mother, grappled her into a hug. "What's gotten into you? Let go of me and go!"
CRASH!
But it was too late for that.
It didn't matter how many times she did it. It didn't matter how much pain it caused. It didn't matter how many times she had to die… she would never let her mother die again.
She jumped at it like before but managed to wrangle her way onto its back. Gesivii confusedly and worriedly looked on as her daughter, in an uncharacteristically miserable rage, tried to put out bits of its mane. But, when she tried to use the opportunity to attack it with her spear while it was distracted… it caught the blade and used it to whack her into a wall with a powerful force.
Kocha was too blinded by rage to see that, though. She didn't even see the beast's arms trying to pull her off. But, not one second later, it had knocked her off of him.
Kocha hit the floor at great speed, her head ringing with pain. The demon heartily laughed, enjoying the sight of his enemies at his hooves. It stepped on her torso, forcing all of the air out of her lungs as well as causing great pain as at least a few ribs broke. But, she didn't scream: she was far too determined to scream.
He shifted his weight to get a closer look at the dangling body beneath his foot.
Sniff.
Sniff.
He gave another laugh. "You do not smell like the others. The others smell of fish, you smell of fish and of bird. But, your ribs break like the others, you hate me like the others and you will die like the others. What do you think will be the most cruel? Forcing a mother to see her daughter die before her eyes, or the other way around?"
Kocha couldn't hear what he said. All she could hear was the ringing in her head and the thumping of her heart.
"Well, you are right here and your mother is probably watching, so… goodnight, bird-fishy."
Before the demon could force its foot to the floor and through her heart, though, Gesivii had stabbed it away with her spear. Again, the demon grabbed onto the spear but, in its pained roar, snapped it in twain with its fingers. "You—! No, I've changed my mind! You will be the first to die!"
Gesivii, damaged and bloody, found difficulty standing. Kocha forced herself up, despite the great pain, and threw herself onto a wall to stay upright. "Kocha, you can still get to your father. Leave Whiskers the Wonder Cat to me and go!"
But Kocha wasn't having any of that. The behemoth laughed, again, finding humor in the situation. "There is no running away from me. There is no hiding from me. There is no defeating me. Beg for your life… perhaps I will make your end painless."
The beast trotted over to Gesivii, who couldn't even muster the energy to move. "You hit hard, you piece of shit."
It snatched her body violently, holding her in a single arm. What Gesivii felt next could only have been described as her entire body wishing to contract into a single point as she was squeezed. "I try my best."
No…
No, not again. Never again.
No second chances!
No backing out!
No regret!
No remorse!
Many of her bones were broken… her muscles ached… her legs seemed contend to just die already… but she stood up, on her own two feet. Never again. She shambled her way over to them, death on her face, which only served to amuse the Mazoku lackey. "Oh, would you look at that. You fish just don't know when to quit… I wonder if the struggle will make you taste any better. But, alas, I grow bored with you, and I smell a bird over in that direction." He pointed a finger behind him. "I'll just have to kill you at the same time."
It casually tossed the mother onto the daughter, cruelty in his eyes, as he shot a concentrated green ki beam straight through both of their hearts…
"Heheheheh. Don't feel so bad, fishies. At least you die together."
Blood. There was blood everywhere. Gesivii could barely speak as they lied in each others arms, moments from death, soaked in their combined blood. "K-Kocha… I-I'm sorry… so s-sorry…"
No, no, no, no… no, never again.
The beast cackled at them, casually telling himself estimates of how long it would take until they died. No… no… no!
"… I-I'm afraid… then… t-that this is it…"
She pulled her mother closer as tears intermingled with blood.
"… I'm s-sorry, Kocha. This… this was a good r-run…"
Not yet…
No…
Not yet…
No…
And she was gone.
No!
Suddenly, it was all too much. Something snapped, something primal. She forced herself up, seemingly unaffected by her condition, and spoke her first word in a while.
"No!"
This was one of the many things that seemed to amuse the beast. "Oh? It seems you still have some more fight in you. Take the hint, kid. You're outmatched."
She took one step towards him, her body hardly keeping itself together. "…No! Y-you… you bastard! You killed my mother!" An explosion of yellow ki accompanied her step, but her enemy seemed not to care.
"I'LL MAKE YOU PAY!"
The creature, wishing to end their conflict, shot another concentrated ki beam at her, this time aimed at her heart.
Fwoosh.
She was unaffected. "W-What did you do? That should have been enough to kill you a dozen times over! What are you?"
Yellow flared around Kocha again, accompanied by the sound of thunder crashing across the sky. In the span of less than a second, Kocha's original body was replaced with her current Ribonu body. But… something was different.
"What… What the hell are you!?"
Her hair flashed with yellow for a moment. It definitely noticed this time. It thrust its fist's weight at her her in a maximum-power punch… which she caught with her finger.
"You ask me what I am. What I am is beyond your comprehension… but I'll tell you anyway."
Kocha took ahold of the beast's gigantic fist and squeezed it, forcing it to sit on its four legs as it cried in distress.
"I am Scobian! I am Kondorian! I am Arcosian!"
She flashed with gold again. Not just her hair, but her entire body seemed to switch between its usual red and yellow with increasing frequency. She punched it across the maw with a force far greater than anything it should have been able to take, allowing it to writhe in pain beneath her in an attempt to relocate its jaw.
She flashed gold again, her skin and hair changing color. Her hair and eyebrows became spiky yet symmetrical, while her eyes, interestingly, went red in a manner reminiscent of an Arcosian.
"… AND I AM A SUPER SAIYAN!"
But, this effect did not fade, it did not falter, it did not fail. No, she was a Scobian, yes, and she was a Kondorian, and she was an Arcosian… but this was real. She was a Super Saiyan, without all of the stupid 'desire for battle' bits holding her back.
"B-but… how?"
It was a legitimate question. But, as things go… Super Saiyan rage had no time for legitimate questions.
Masses of compact red ki gathered around her eyes, emitting so much light that the rest of the room appeared dark in comparison.
"Beware the power of…"
The red sped forwards!
"THE PRIDE OF THE GALAXY!"
