[S] Moving Forward

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    The boots hit the stony pavement of the ground, small prints left behind, though they would be quickly forgotten once any form of wind picked up. Stone and dust was all that made up this area of hell, and the one who was using the boots reflected this in the rest of his attired. Attached to his battle suit, there was a long rag wrapped around the upper half, and a cape like cloth blew behind him, while his entire face was covered in wraps. Only a narrow slit for his eyes were shown, and they were covered by what appeared to be a glass visor.

    The man, if he could be called such, did not quicken his step or slow down. He continued at his present pace. He was in no rush, at least he didn’t feel like it. He wanted to… wrap things up, which his outfit did indeed reflect. The war may draw to a close soon, from what he could guess. The battle on Beppa was a major one, so it wouldn’t be illogical to assume that the battles would only continue to grow in size. Hell, it was only a matter of time before the empire attempted a strike on Namek, which was why he was beginning the final steps of his stay in hell.

    As the man continued to walk, he would see something on the horizon, something he had expected. Now, standing before him was a plateu, and there was a man, his back turned behind him. The current traveler would continue, up until he was only a few feet behind the man, before he spoke.

    “I was told you had something I would need. Something I would need to complete my training here, and begin my plans of escape.” He would say, slightly muffled by the rags covering nearly the entirety of his face.

    The man would slowly turn around, his old, wrinkled blue face covered by a beard, which somehow managed to reach down to his waist. The man wore a black robe, and he had been sitting on a block of what appeared to be metal. It was black, but it had a purified, stony texture to it, though it was clearly metal, and the man sitting on it was clearly an ogre, albeit a very old one. Still, his voice was not nearly as raspy or gravelly as the traveler expected.

    “Hmmm… then you must know why I would ever willingly do such a thing, correct?” The ogre would reply, his head slightly cocked to the side. The traveler would nod back, before coughing slightly, looking up. “Apologies, the sand is a real bi- oh, sorry. I will try and limit my profanity.” He would finish, the ogre nodding slowly, before the traveler continued. “You have spent half your life following the will of Yemma, keeping souls trapped here, unable to escape, unable to get a body. But after you realized how little this life meant, embracing nihilism and the belief that Yemma had zero real authority, you decided that the only option was to take his rules and all that he had worked for, and burn it all to the ground.” the traveler would state, taking in a deep breathe. The ogre would respond with a smirk, before continuing for him.

    “So, naturally, I began my acts of sabotage. I would spread the craft of illegal body construction through black magic. I would reveal secret ways to manipulate the gravity of certain realms within hell, realms that could only be traversed by a select few. I would spread the knowledge of the dark arts, and I have most likely helped thousands escape hell. The most entertaining thing, however, is watching them return only a few months later.” He would say, a smirk forming on his lips. The traveler couldn’t help but chuckle back, finding that the two oddly shared a sense of humor with the man. “If what I have planned happens, I’ll never be back here again. Ever.” he would say, laughing a bit louder. Soon though, the laughter would die down, and only the sound of the wind blowing could be heard. After a few minutes of awkward silence, the ogre would speak once again.

    “There is still something we haven’t addressed… who are you? Why do you wish to escape hell? From what I can tell, you aren’t being seriously punished. You aren’t confined to a certain area, and if you are, no ogre is even capable of stopping you. You’re a free man, confined by noone. So, who are you, and why would you give this up?” he asked, less out of genuine curiosity, and more out of habit. This man had been approached by hundreds of travelers wishing for the same thing. The man had taken dozens of forms in the past, and this form he hadn’t used in a long time, for it was his TRUE form. He was not genuinely interested in why this man wanted to escape, or why he had wound up there, or what he should be doing, because this had gotten old. Very, very old.

    However, the traveler would take this much more seriously than he should, and the wind would soon be the only thing that could be heard once more. He would take in a deep breath,before reaching behind him, and undoing the knot he had secured with the wraps. Slowly, he would unwind the fabric, more and more of his armor being revealed. Soon, the emblem of an empire could be seen on his chest plate, but the Ogre knew it couldn’t belong to the Saiyans. He had watched that symbol evolve for thousands of years, and this was nothing that he had seen from the Saiyans. But, of the Nameks…

    Finally, the traveler was exposed, and the ogre was… surprised. Before him, there was wraps, and a cap like rag that lay on the ground, and behind them, there was… a man. But not just a man, no. He was young, that much was clear, although he was maturing. The amount of muscle mass and his height was surprising, but the boy looked to be about nineteen, though the ogre suspected younger. Slowly, he would look up, the ogre’s and the boy’s locking for the first time, unhindered by a visor.

    “My name… is Tomoka. I was a soldier in the Mazoku Dominion, a deserter to the Solar Saiyan Empire, and I worked my way up the ranks. Before I died, I was in command of the Beppan invasion force. Were it not for my death at the hands of an enemy, I would most likely be a Super Saiyan by now, perhaps even the right hand to Lord Xylo himself… my life was destroyed, I was cast down here, and I have achieved next to nothing while here. That MUST change, and you will help make it so.” He stated, the ogre taking a look at him with slightly more interest than previously. “I… see. You feel as if you’ve been cheated, robbed of a future that belonged to you… and now you seek retribution, power, and grandeur… and I may just be willing to help.” the ogre would state, standing up. “But WHY should I? What can you possibly do for me, what could you possibly do that would make my life more interesting, give me something that you don’t know I desire, or ANYTHING of the sort? What can you do?” he asked, Tomoka replying quickly, a grin slowly forming on his face.

    “You’re old… you’ve been in hell for millennia, doing one of two things: keeping people in hell, or helping them escape. But, it doesn’t have to be like that. When I return, I will return to war, I will return to chaos, and I will return to bloodshed. I will return to something that would make ANYONE itching for action want to follow me. There will be people of immense power, and those people may be trying to obtain peace, but others want to continue the conflict, others want to continue that war, and so do I. But I can’t return like this. I have to return on the precipices of PERFECTION. I must return as close as I can to being A SUPER SAIYAN!” He shouted, looking at the ogre, the previous grin only widening on his face. Looking around him, he would realize that the dust was swirling around the both of them, and his ki had flared up, but he would soon calm himself down, panting as the dust settled. “Sorry… I’m acting a bit carried away right now… and I need a bit of help with that before we begin getting stronger…” he would say, a smirk curling onto his lips. The ogre seemed… interested, and that was what mattered.

    “Very well. I will help you escape hell, and in return, I shall accompany you on your journeys throughout the living world once you escape, aid you in combat, until the day you’re sent back here. I will help you with your… problem, and I will help you become stronger.” He stated, to which Tomoka couldn’t help but grin. “Thank you… what exactly is your name, old man?” Tomoka would ask, before slipping the rags back on and over his head. The ogre would turn, a final word coming out of his mouth. “Yadaran.”

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