Super Saiya-jin; A new level...? (80x) Aug 31, 2015 18:39:56 GMT
Post by Zucceta on Aug 31, 2015 18:39:56 GMT
While the Tree of Might had been growing on Arcose, Zucceta had been more than a little busy.
The red gravity chamber thrums with intensity, her body rocking with the rhythm of a shadow-spar, the force behind every punch, every kick, enough to shatter continents. Her every motion was an art, her compact muscle swimming through the air with a decimating precision. She had given an ultimatum, and she had to be ready to enact it. It wasn't just her, though; not this time. This time, she had an army behind her. Even if her strength didn't match the strongest of Earth's defenders, teamwork would enable a victory, even if it cost her some pride.
And she had, long ago, several months (or a life time ago), learned to swallow her pride.
The queen wakes with a start, soaked in sweat. She pulls herself out of her silk sheets, twisting to her bedside table, and stares into the dulled red eyes of the decapitated Empress. Wyntre Kold had almost fought valiantly, if not for her insistence on the moral high ground. What use were morals when you could do nothing to prevent your own death? It was something Zucceta often pondered, in her quieter moments.
The Arcosians, Lords of Ice, Frost Demons, Changelings... they were now an endangered species.
Lady Death smiles slightly. Soon, the 'invincible power' of the Super Saiyan Solar Empire would be known, revered and feared across the universe.
So, why was she still haunted thus?
Her dreams were a morose compilation of twisted memories and nightmare landscapes. In it, an electric warrior, a Super Saiyan(?), stood above her broken body with an aura of white lightning. Within the warrior's hands was a great sword, almost the size of the body, glowing with deadly energy; and in one, fell slash, the sword descends toward's Zucceta's throat.
She would always wake with a start, her own metallic hand grasping at her throat should she have forgot to remove it the night before. The nightmare was absurd, and yet... she could taste a truth in it.
The queen growls.
The training room beckons.
There was a theory that was pre-dominately in her mind this day. The day before, she had seen the future of the Super Saiyan legend; for a moment, Natto's rage and anguish had allowed him to transcend even the mastered energy of the form. It was like a super saiyan doubling over itself, a super saiyan above a super saiyan.
But, try as she might, Zucceta could not force herself to access the form.
What, then, could she do with the Super Saiyan form?
She had an idea.
Her almost-permanent golden hair subsides for a moment, and her left hand pulses with the gathering light of the Power Ball technique.