Lady Cold and the Confectionary Princess (Zexama)

In the distant background, Wyntre could hear some shouting, laughing and the oddly distinct sound of Kiwano's body hitting the floor and walls. Never, in all of her years of dealing with ignoramuses, sycophants to the highest degree and the megalomaniac had she regretted asking something immediately after asking it. Now, though... now was an exception.

Zexama weighed very little, very little indeed. This was nothing to be held against her, it was merely how much she chose to weigh. But, still, she had weight to her. If she assumed that the average eight-year-old weighed twenty-five kilograms under earth's gravity, a statistic which Zexama would likely fit to a degree, then the same eight-year-old would weigh three thousand, seven hundred and fifty kilograms under 150x gravity. Dodoria, ever the eater, weighed approximately one hundred and thirty kilograms. That, under 150g, is nineteen and a half thousand kilograms. Added together, Dodoria was carrying 23,250kg. Dodoria, the poor dear, had a Power Level of about 5,000.

As you could imagine, he was struggling to not be turned into paste by the sheer weight on himself and Zexama. With a double click of Cold's fingers, the emergency protocol activated and the artificial gravity stopped and went back down to a more reasonable 1g as Wyntre's telekinesis carried the now-unconscious Dodoria out of the room and into the medical wing. Her fingers covered her eyes in frustration but eased herself and her mind in the intervening seconds. Her finger came to her scouter. "Medical staff to recuperation room 33A." With another double click of her fingers, the gravity extremified once again to 150g. "Zexama, you fool. Can you do anything without a medical emergency happening as a result? You've almost killed Kiwano! You—!" She stopped herself. She exhaled (despite the biological lack of a need to) loudly, getting in her own combat stance. "No matter. Do know that if something like this were to happen again... the punishment would be harsh. Suppress your Power Level to 10,000— and I mean all of your Power Level— to make this perfectly equal. Brace yourself."

She suppressed her own Power Level to 10,000. Then, she sped over to the Majin, ready to punch her, but then... she punched too early? No. Her fist hit the air a meter in front of where Zexama's face would be, which was weird in and of itself, but what was weirder was that the sheer kinetic force would then have hit her face as if it were a direct hit. This was the power of the Tulpa... the ability to hit without having to wash hands afterward. Also doubles as a nice way to avoid Newton's Third Law.

Suppressed to 10,000
[SU1] Tulpa Touch used. No damage, since this isn't a damage dealing technique. Does as much as a normal punch would, assuming it lands.

But Zexama couldn't bear to have something happen without her being a part of it so she did the silly thing and brought Kiwano to the medical facilities on her own despite having neither any reason to do so or, and this is important enough to repeat, having any reason to do so. Perhaps, Wyntre reasoned, she was trying to apologize for nearly murdering Kiwano without actually saying 'sorry', or 'apologies', or any other suitable synonym. This was not likely. She soon came to the conclusion that Zexama did as Zexama does because she knew it would annoy her the most. And, by the Kais above, was it working.

Wyntre wasn't particularly sure why Zexama had stayed around for so long without enraging someone, friend or foe, into murdering her. Despite her appearance vaguely resembling something 'cute' or 'child-like', the response she generated in most sane entities is more of one of wrath. Perhaps, at one point, Wyntre theorized, that was there was more to that. Perhaps there's a weird psychotelepathic field emanating from her, turning people around against each other and filling them with hate. Or, perhaps Zexama's entire existence was an elaborate prank by Zucceta. Either way, it wasn't fun for anyone but the Candy Princess. But still, she was being tested, or at least that was what it felt like. She didn't sit in a cave for a quarter of a year for nothing, so she could handle the brat.

Zexama began charging the Candyhameha, except not really. She announced the attack's name, except not really. And then, suddenly, the floor malformed to fit around Wyntre's legs, seemingly trapping her... except not really. An expression crossed her face that was somehow bored, angry and disappointed all at once. "And, once again, you unwittingly make everything worse. I can't risk worsening the damage done to this facility by continuing this fight: fix this. Now." Immediately after, Wyntre would vibrate in a certain way, becoming intangible and moving slightly to the left into a pocket of centralized gravity before becoming tangible again.

Wyntre was entirely aware of the abilities that Zexama had access to. Wyntre was entirely aware of the power that Zexama could call on at any time. Wyntre was painfully aware that she and Zexama were a close match. While this was good in that training between the two would be mutually beneficial, it wasn't good in that it was infuriating that the Lady's equal in power was so inferior in so many other aspects. Purpleness, height, skill in chess, ability to not make people want to strangle you, so on and so forth. At Zexama's comment, she winced. Wyntre never forgot anything. Forgive, sure. But never forget. Wyntre gave a look that could melt tungsten. Not particularly because of the comment made, but because... well, mostly because of the comment. But, alas, the tiled flooring returned to its original shape and the distortions of gravity, ever the malignancy, returned to their proper places: nowhere. Here, now, consistency ruled, and consistency had but one name... 150x.

"You bring up a false dichotomy in an attempt to force me to choose the option you'd rather, rather than the supposed only other option which I'd rather not choose. But, and this is quite important, so nota bene," Her finger pointed up to her temple as her mood relaxed with a smile, "—going all out does not make the training any more beneficial. Besides, you'd hardly want to destroy the Valiance, would you?" Wyntre, as you'd be stupid not to have noticed by now, was an Arcosian. Arcosians, as one is sure is known, were known as Changelings by racists across the universe. But, why was this the case? Why, this was the case because of the many forms in which their ranks had come naturally equipped. But, why even use multiple forms when you could merely just use your most powerful form at any given moment, like Wyntre? Because, you see, in most cases, you could not use the most powerful at all times. On many occasions, using any form other than the weakest was a display of energy where it was not required. You see, only being as powerful as need be was a widespread concept in Arcosian culture. But, there were more reasons. To put it simply and to put an already tiresome paragraph to a close, m(p+g)>mp+g. Or, to put it if you don't speak the universal language of simple algebra, using your full power to train is just pretty darn silly. "Oh, and I know your Power Level is a ten thousandth above ten thousand. The Scouter knows all. Actually, for further reading, I recommend the works of Brenchian engineer-turned-philosopher Chimi Churru— well, apparently we're fighting now so I'll just stop talking." It was for the best.

What's worse than one Zexama? Two Zexamas.
What's worse than two Zexamas? The word 'thusly'. I mean, really, that isn't even a real word. It's stupid and is horrible and I don't like it.

Back on track. Wyntre allowed herself to be hit, causing mild strain in her neck as kinetic energy was sent to her head and torso in opposing directions. The thing with the Multi-Form Technique, as is known, is that power does not remain constant among copies, but is divided. And, what was it that Ancient Warmaster and All-Around Cool Guy™ Mr. Satan said about this? Divide and conquer!. She retrieved her sword, the Arcosia, from her back, ready to strike. Utilizing the fact that her Power Level doubled that of either opponent, she chose the one that came from the right and masterfully sliced where it would be.

Did you notice that Wyntre seldom used her hover-chair anymore? Metaphors.

One of the Zexamas jumped into the corner of the Gravity Chamber. This was greatly confusing, as cylinders don't have corners. It was put down to the magic of candyness. 

One time, many years ago, Wyntre had faced the first opposition she had ever encountered. She was busy doing slightly less than slightly more than nothing, you see, when the wall of the highest floor of the Arcosian embassy caught a nasty case of doesn't-actually-exist-anymore-itis. An android, Zarmar, had come to kidnap Wyntre for his (its?) Master, Doctor Tilt, presumably for both using her genetic material for a bio-android (or multiple) and to mind-control her, make her a cyborg and have her do his bidding to complete his 'seasons' vibe. Wyntre, in her temporal shenanigans of a while back, had actually encountered a timeline in which he had succeeded. However, obviously, she was victorious here. More than that, actually: she had ransacked his lab, killed the prototypes for his androids of both the mechanical and biological varieties and made her way out of there. The point being, this was when the Arcosia had begun. The technology stolen was a beginning, but by no means an end. Later, the eldritch techno-whatever-infused Saiyan, who Wyntre defeated and medically analyzed. After that, the other thing. What they were didn't particularly matter, but what mattered was that many fields of science and magic came together to make the Arcosia. 

But, alas, a sword is only as good as its wielder. Which is why it's such a brilliant sword. "Ah, you ask 'who cares?'. The answer is obvious: myself, for it was I who said it, you, for you cared enough to ask who cared, and Ryaz Henka of security, whose job it is to monitor the Gravity Chamber when in use. Hello, Ryaz." A glance to the camera. Elsewhere, Mr. Henka activated the manual over-ride of the Gravity Chamber camera to nod it slightly. The same Zexama as the one from the first paragraph escaped from the cylinder's corner (magic!) and began charging what looked like a Candyhameha, except noticeably less candy-related.

It was at a time like this when she would bust out the Death Ball, or the Death Beam, or the Themis Cannon. Yet, she was not? Why was this? Wyntre Cold, the Ex-Empress of Arcose and All Below It, the High-Benevolence and the Victorious against Death, had gone through some developments. There was a time, less than half a decade from the point of which we find ourself transfixed concurrently, in which Wyntre was what many would call a 'spoiled brat', or others still an 'arrogant bitch princess'. Not evil, no, but unwilling to fix that which is wrong in favor of enjoying that which is enjoyable. She followed no real path, her life having no real meaning. She only hoped that, one day soon, her two brothers would find themselves with a bad case of explosions. She waited for their deaths with what wasn't an awful lot of patience, even resorting to enjoying the landscapes of the beautiful planet with some wine. But, eventually, what little patience she had had ran out. She arranged for the death of one brother and killed the other herself before proclaiming herself Empress of Arcose. She was not happy with the incompetent bureaucrats and the scheming politicians doing the work a Monarch should have done, so power was shifted. Her brothers were both hedonists at heart: drinking, slobbish murderers. They wanted the position of Emperor for its power, but delegated its responsibility elsewhere. With leaders like those, power would stray from the Throne and into the Administration. As history has taught, this is never a good thing.

Wyntre overestimated herself, though. She took on the work of many and began to crumble under the pressure. She set up safeguards, in case the monarch after her wasn't too competent, but it seems that they were ignored or forgotten under piles of paperwork. A shame. They would have been handy about now. She survived the pressure and came out.
Wyntre had changed greatly on two occasions, viz: A) when she started being Empress and B) when she stopped being Empress. When she stopped, for example, she had begun to drink a lot less wine. Wine was not some way to drown any 'demons' or forget of the pressures of leadership, of course, but rather something nice to drink (she had never been drunk in her life). Was it because she had become more grave, or because there simply wasn't as much wine freely available to drink? These were important questions with vague answers. She had access to a Hover-Chair of the same type as her last, yet why had she, not once, sat in it? Was it because it represented the throne? Was it because she did not believe that she deserved to relax? Was it because it reminded her of… she tried not to think about the Invasion. She failed. But, soon, she got it out of her mind. Why HAD she not used an offensive technique? Well, it's quite simply. She'd wait until her foe is all tuckered out and then strike at full-force (full-force being ten thousand, any more is cheating).

Zexama tried to wrap her antenna around Wyntre's leg to trip her over, but the attacked's Power Level was twice that of the attacker. Instead, she held firm, forcing the Princess to either give up or be sent straight into Wyntre's waiting fist.

When the questions came, there was much to think about. As her old self would have said, the days of Cold may never end. Yet, they did, for a while. When she died. When she went to hell. When she learnt the evil moves... now, thinking about it, they felt like a pestilence. She felt like they were too dark, and deserved to be cleaned off of her mind. Yet, she had only died once. "I have never met Retsu before then. He wasn't too important to know of. His blood is tainted with war, without the markings of royalty. He knows nothing of the universe and acts accordingly. Yet, there are those in the Arcosian Empire who were not particularly advocating my policies of benevolence. They would twist the truth and lie to the masses, make it seem like I am, somehow, a traitor for not returning immediately, a weakling for dying in the first place and a demonic witch for returning from death in the first place. It's... complicated, and I am at a loss. For now, though, I will protect Arcose from the shadows.... Yes, I do like the sound of a trip to Arcose at some point. It's what I'll see there that worries me, though." At least it won't be the tree.

Energy began to swell in her left index finger. It had been a very long time until she had last used it, but it was time to use the Full-Power Death Beam once again!

[SU3] Full-Power Death Beam! 10,000PL, 20,000PL next turn.

Purple > Pink.
Always.

The two Majins had been laughing mischievously for a few seconds now. It was worrying, frankly. Zexama, for all of her might, could not contain even the information that something 'was up', she just had to have a little giggle. That, certainly, was a major aspect that they would have to work on. I mean, she may as well announce the names of her attacks before she unleashes their might. One of the Zexamas— an odd phrase to say, really— had dodged her punch and went off to the side, her antenna completely intact. She then laughed again. Of course she did.

"Yes, we get it, you find this entertaining. For someone who wanted to train 'seriously' so much, you're having a bit too much fun. Oh, what's this?"

She did not know of it, she hadn't even heard of it, but it was the thunder shock surprise. It wasn't even deserving of capital letters, it wasn't even deserving of a trademark symbol and it wasn't even deserving of having people remember if it was 'thunder shock', 'thunder-shock' or 'thundershock'. Yet, it had found its uses.

Yes, Wyntre did not know of this attack. She did not know what it would do. Frankly, and let's be honest, she believed it to be a normal ki attack. Really, it probably would have worked better if it had. So, then, to combat it, she would attempt to initiate a beam struggle (although, in this case, it wouldn't have been nearly as much of a struggle). The deathly red energy in her finger moved about, almost as if it were trying to get out. And eventually, it did. In a thick beam of horrendously concentrated ki, the attack shot forwards, towards the encroaching electrical attack. Vaguely aware that Zexama had failed to attack her from behind, she was not ready for what happened next.

Defying all known laws of anime, the Full-Power Death Beam and the Thunder Shock Surprise did not activate a beam struggle! No, the Thunder Shock Surprise was not one solid beam, really, but many serpent-like rays of electricity that were going in the same direction at the same pace. The FPDB (the next YMCA) would then move unaffected to the firing Zexama, where it would do an awful lot of damage, assuming it hit, enough for Zexama to go unconscious, enough for something else to take its place. Not that I'm implying anything, of course. That'd be silly.

But, the lack of a Beam Struggle was a double-edged sword. It also meant that the Thunder Shock Surprise had hit Wyntre. If the other Zexama was still goop on the floor, close to her, it might have hit her as well.

But, by god, the pain.

The famous Ee scientist, Bree, had been known for his eccentricity. He was odd, certainly, but he was also brilliant. One of his more creative endeavors was to find a better way to measure pain. It went from 0 (no pain) to 1 (mild discomfort) to the imaginary numbers (numbness) and all the way to 877. This pain… it was pretty up there. She struggled against the pain. The gravity now felt as if it was cutting at her skin. "That… that is a horrible technique. Never again use it in a spar," she managed to say between breaths. Her words had merit, of course: the point of a spar is to increase one's power and fighting ability, not to inflict pain on your sparring partner. Otherwise, it's known as Mutual Torture.

Regardless of the method by which it had occurred, there was only one Zexama now. She had a challenge, an interesting challenge, one that Wyntre would accept with a nod. She's done this before, of course. She was good at this. Yet, she could still feel the pain coursing through her.

10,000.
9,232.
8,125.
6,873.
5,622.
4,553.
3,500.

Standing become a struggle. Yet, she found support in the form of her tail. The flexible, snake-like movements of her favored martial art weren't going to be very useful when so vulnerable to the gravity. So, she would need to try something else.

No, no, this was too hard. Disregarding her fighting stance altogether, she adopted a stance more accustomed to the extremes being faced.

"After you."

((I'll be assuming that, regardless of if that copy survived, Zexama says the same things.))

The manner in which Zexama had avoided her Full-Power Death Beam was simple and deceptively clever. Instead of moving her entire bio-mass to any particular location other than the one that she had occupied just then, vibrating all of her molecules just right so that they didn't make 'contact' with the Death Beam molecules, used that odd After-Image technique to avoid it or using a shield, she merely shape-shifted so that the attack passed straight through her without burning any bubblegum. This 'technique', if you could call it that, was very easy to do, didn't take much energy at all and could hypothetically be used to dodge any attack smaller than the Majin's maximum shape-shifting size. She only hoped that no Majin used it seriously against her, as its abuse could be rife.

Now, as much as Zexama would have faked a snore in faux-boredom at hearing this, this situation tied quite closely to some major problems of ethics. If Wyntre, right now, were to land a damaging ki blast onto Zexama with malicious intent, she would be hurt and damaged in equal degree. Now, if the Majin could choose which of them would be inflicted on her, which is preferable? If Wyntre were to have a change of heart and decided to do the 'best' thing morally and was similarly able to nullify one aspect of the attack, which is best? This comes into problems, of course. What is the metric for pain? What is the metric of bodily damage? What is the relationship between the two?

Wyntre was a mega haxxer. This is what allowed her to hack real life.

An issue had been challenged. As much as the current gravity was trying to send her to the ground, as much as the pain coursing through her still hurt, she had to go lower still. A thousand less? Perhaps. Or perhaps a bit more. Or, perhaps a bit less.

3,500.
3,432.
3,389.
3,191.
2,890.
2,683.
2,558.
2,450.

2,450. That'd do. Prime factorization: 7, 7, 5, 5, 2. Less than 2,500, which itself is a thousand less than 3,500. It was a good number, a very good number, but standing became even harder.

She used her ki to stabilize herself, effectively flying back into position when she was about to tip or when her legs began to give way. Fighting her opponent was not a priority: let the gravity be her opponent, she thought, as it is mine.

Moving was not a priority, either. Why bother, anyway? She was shooting for a sustained standing.