Elimination Exit

[King Cold444]

In an act of valor, it was all gone from him. Koola was left to fend for himself in the harsh elements. He'd felt the pain of having his innards seep through mortal wounds, he could clearly remember his flesh pressed outward by the lead. Wrenching his life from him, freeing him from the abyss.

Cold had half-expected to awake to the blaringly serene lights of that line that lead to Yenma. There were lights, but as soon as the disorientation whittled out that's all they were. Lights.

"What the fuck happened?" KC groaned, rolling to an upright position from the cot that he'd laid in. How they could they find one suitable for his size was beyond him, but somehow they'd managed.

Someone approached him, as if on some unceremonial cue. They said nothing, but the crisp lab coat and notepad had Cold assuming she was authorized to pull that stephoscope from his pocket and begin feeling up on him.

"Do this often? Feel up on strangers?" King Cold sighed, stretching his arms and alas. There were two arms! "Wtf... my arm... these guys sure must spend a lot of money on their research. You wouldn't happen to know how they work that whole die and bring the body back to life thing? Is this Abyss thing played in the mind, where your body is left here and your mental projection of yourself plays the game for you."

Cold was a bit overanalytical. The nurse agreed.

"I just make sure everything works and then I send you on your way." She'd stated. Apparently satisfied with Colds condition she removed the instrument and showed him out of the room.

"King Cold, you've placed tenth in the abyss." Someone cried out over the crowd. These competitions were kinda big.

"Can you sign my tail?" someone else shouted over the hype, their high pitch melding away from the roaring crowd.

"Can we get an interview? We just need you to stand over... uhmm, Mr. Cold?" KC had known better by now, however, and strolled off away from the limelight. There was much more to do.

"How do I get out of here?" Cold inquired to the nurse who made it her duty to see King Cold through the sea of smothered faces. She showed him to the telepods, assuming that he'd known how to work them. Without a moments hesitation he'd vanished into the fathomless venture of random coordinates.

He'd left his son to fend on his lonesome, but he was pretty sure Koola could handle it. Otherwise, however, he'd had nothing to worry about.

[Mowgli]

A darkness that knew no bounds overwhelmed the young saiya-jin?s vision; allowing him to see nothing more than a black abyss while the sharp pain from the side of his head subsided. At first, confusion came to his aid with its many questions that plague the mind. Shortly after given time to allow the events that had transpired to ?sink in?, reality then paid him a visit. Making him fully aware of what had happened and how he had come to be where he was now.

I lost...

The shadows of his sight slowly faded into nothingness as the light from a luminescent bulb illuminated the white room the hybrid now found himself in. With his back on a stiff mattress, Junior stared into the ceiling, allowing what memories he possessed to playback his moment of truth.

Originally Posted By Burter
The tall human-looking figure with a hole in his torso moved out of the way, avoiding being hit. GJ fired again, twice, but the back flipping of Seventeen was too quick for his shots.

Goku finally landed after his jump, raising up only a few feet away from Seventeen. He had the perfect shot.

?What happened?? muttered the boy; attempting to now piece together the puzzle of then and mystery of now. ?Was there someone else??

***

Minutes had passed and Goku?s surroundings: changed. The white walls of his medical room had been replaced by countless televisions that remained etched within the grey walls that supported the building. The air was no longer sterile or bacteria free?with each breath the saiyan boy took, the body odor of an attendant entered his lungs.

It could?ve been because that very same attendant stood next to him, watching the playback of a scene that depicted Junior?s death flawlessly. Or it could?ve been because the odor was so strong. Either way, Junior was sure of one thing, he was stinky.

?It was that green boy!? the young warrior shouted; responding to the actual playback; choosing to ignore the man?s horrid scent?for now ?He got me good.?

?That he did, little dude. That he did...? replied the blonde haired man who stood beside the saiyan; keeping his eyes on the screen, as if hypnotized by the sight of death.

?You can?t win them all.? sighed the boy.

?Yeah?that?s too bad. Hey, listen. Here?s your things, little man.? He said, extending his arms and revealing to the hybrid the possessions he had left behind. ?I?d love to stay and chat but it?s the finals, bro. I can?t miss it. Raditzu is gunna open a can of XTREME whoop ass!?

With that said, the attendant then averted his attention to one of the tv?s that projected the live broadcast.

Allowing nothing more than a chuckle to escape his mouth, the boy responded. ?Alright, thanks for getting my things and lettin? me see the scene. See ya later. Hope your guy wins.?

?No problem, dude. No problem at all.? The attendant managed to mutter, before letting out a shout of disappointment. ?Nooo!!!?

I guess he didn?t. thought GJ with a smile as he walked towards the door. What kind of name is Raditzu, anyway?

[Android 17]

Like waking up from a bad dream, Seventeen came to in a dark room, his body shaking as he tried to deduce his location. The last few hours had been a living nightmare, and despite his best efforts, the android could barely remember anything that had transpired. All of it seemed like one huge blur; however, there were a few pieces of the puzzle that were still vibrant in the android?s mind.

Super Buu.

The very mention of the traitorous heathen brought a frown to the cybernetic warrior?s countenance. With a grunt, Seventeen dropped his legs over the side of the metal cot and rubbed his eyes as they struggled to come into focus within the black confines of his current locale. Sighing inwardly, the android slid off the uncomfortable slab of steel and onto the linoleum floor.

Brushing off the dust that had managed to accumulate on his comatose form, the cyborg made his way over to the door and wrenched it open with his hand. The subpar craftsmanship caused the slab of aged steel to creak and whine as its hinges struggled to remain solid. Stepping out into the illuminated hallway, the android let out another groan and stretched his arms above his head.

Still feeling a bit dazed from whatever process the people at Dante used to reawaken their contestants, Seventeen slowly traversed the steel walkway until he came to a large booth near a set of double doors. Behind reinforced glass, a woman stood with a massive shelving unit behind here. As the android drew closer to her, he could see that she was the caretaker of all the contestant?s possessions.

?Seventeen?? The woman asked, glancing down at something that the machine-hybrid couldn?t see.

?Correct,? the cyborg shot back, smiling as he paused right next to the pane and watched as the woman turned around and collected a large, plastic tub from a shelf labeled ?23.? With a groan, she dropped the tub into something beneath the countertop and hit a switch on a nearby wall. Backing up from the window, Seventeen glanced down at his feet and watched as the wall beneath the glass split open. A heartbeat later, the tub containing the machine-hybrid?s possessions was ejected and the wall sealed back up.

?There you go, Mr. Seventeen,? the woman said through an intercom installed onto the glass. ?Congratulations on fifth place, and we hope to see you here next year!? She added before turning around to sift through the remaining crates.

Fifth place isn?t too shabby. The cyborg said as a smile spread across his face. Picking up the plastic container, Seventeen rested it on a bench built into a groove in the nearby wall. With the utmost speed, the android collected all of his belongings?armor, Power Sword, and his satchel. Once the crate was empty, the machine-hybrid placed it in a nearby receptacle and pushed open the nearby doors.

As the doors parted, they revealed a sea of fans that had bottlenecked into what seemed like a relatively tiny lounge area. Almost immediately, the slew of people noticed Seventeen and began to hoot and holler?triggering the android?s normally pale visage to shift to a light shade of crimson. Descending the staircase, the machine-hybrid puffed out his chest and made sure to put an extra bit of pizzazz into his stride. When he reached the bottom of the landing, people began to rush him with pens and pictures of the android.

?I don?t have much time,? Seventeen shouted above the noise. For placing fifth, the cybernetic warrior was surprised at how enthralled the masses were with him. The android could only imagine the reception that the winner would receive upon descending the staircase.

?So did you know that your girlfriend was one of the other competitors? Did you know that she was killed by your best friend?!? Someone shouted nearby, thrusting a pen and picture of Seventeen at the android. With a faint smile, the android quickly scribbled his name onto the photo paper.

?Yes I know both of those facts,? Seventeen replied as he tried his hardest to keep up with the huge volume of people trying to get at him. For someone who had probably analyzed the game, the fan was asking some pretty obvious questions.

?Do you know that your girlfriend went into labor after your fight with Raditzu?? Another fan shouted. The remark triggered the android to drop the pen and picture he was holding?his expression one now laden with fear and apprehension.

?Shit, I have to go,? Seventeen yelled, much to the dismay of the crowd. ?I want to thank you all for supporting me this year. I hope that with everyone?s support here that I can bring home the crown next year!? Although everyone was trying to stop the android from leaving, the machine-hybrid simply smiled his head, waved to the masses, and vanished in a swirl of purple and white light particles.

With that, the cyborg?s tenure in his second Dante?s Abyss drew to close as he humbly stepped out of the limelight as he skittered off to the birth of his heir?out of the frying pan and into the fire in the android?s mind.

[Raditzu]

Kajin Rala was an odd sight to see. Posters, flashing signs, and autograph cards with pictures of Bardock on them seemed to be everywhere. Karl had moved into merchanidisng mode in record time, it seemed. It wouldn't have surprised Raditzu if merchandise had been made for every competitor that entered, so that they'd be able to get things set up as quickly as possible. There was also a large assortment of Yamu paraphernalia and several Raditzu "series 2" things for sale. Small knick-knacks could be found for everyone who was still alive on the final day, it seemed.

The whole ordeal brought a quiet grin to Rad's face. If he had seen this scene twelve hours ago, he probably would have been furious that someone other than him was on a poster, but right now he couldn't care less. In a way, he actually felt a sense of freedom. He could still see the glare of the spotlight, but now Bardock's shadow was helping to shield him from it. It made him feel very content.

"Mr. Raditzu!" cried out a small child.

"Hmmm...?" the saiyan didn't think he would have to deal with people yelling his name immediately. "'Sup, kiddo?"

"Mr. Raditzu!" the child repeated. He couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old. In his outstretched hands were a beat up picture that said 'the long-haired wonder' and a felt-tip pen.

"Hahaha... ya want my autograph?" The child nodded vigorously. "Ya know I didn't win this one, right?" This time the kid shook his head and glared at the towering saiyan in front of him.

"You're the real champion."

Raditzu gave a genuine, hearty laugh at the child as he grabbed the picture and pen from him. The saiyan scribbled his name underneath "the long-haired wonder" and handed the two items back to the small boy. Then, with a smile, Rad dropped down onto his haunches and motioned for the kid to lean in.

"You wanna know a secret kid?" The child'd eyes grew wide and he nodded wildly. "I ain't no champion." The saiyan sprang up to his feet and flashed a grin that would go down in the history books. "I'm just me."

[Orion]

Dante's Abyss.

Fiction.

Dante's Abyss Top Eight Chamber.

Reality.

Koola's eyes shot open, but quickly closed upon witnessing the obnoxious medical light shone in his face. Groaning, he attempted to silence his mind with its incessant and ambiguous trains of thought, all of which collided in a fiery mental explosion. A human male in a white lab coat examined the changeling as he came to grips with his materialised surroundings.

"Care to explain?" Koola demanded more than asked to the human, feeling his composure breaking.

"Congratulations, Mr. Koola," the doctor complimented, putting a cold stethoscope to the changeling's bony plated chest. "You've just returned from Dante's Abyss, having claimed sixth place!"

"Sixth pla-- wait a minute." The prince's memories were quickly congealing. "You mean, I was eliminated?!"

"That's correct, but with a very prestigious---"

"Was I killed by... a saiyan?"

The doctor left his patient for a moment and flipped through paper on a clipboard on a nearby bed. "Let's see... uhm, well I don't know, but your 'murderer' was a contestant by the name of..."

Please not a saiyan. Please not a saiyan.

"Raditzu."

"Fuck."

--------

"So buddy, what'd ya think of the competition?" the barman asked a regular barfly to the Dante's Abyss entertainment area. "Pretty excitin', huh?"

The inebriated elder gentleman tossed back another whisky shot and exhaled sharply. "Well, I thought it was great, but there's too many people a-dyin'."

"That is the idea of the tournament," the barman replied with a chuckle, filling his patron's shot glass again with alcohol. "People getting murdered."

"Call me old fashioned, but I'm a man who likes death with a side dish of sex. Or somethin'." He proceeded to down the shot with so much emphasis that he fell off his barstool. He didn't get up.

The bartender laughed. "Oh well, you might not like death, but I do. At least, the pretend kind. Thank the gods we don't have to worry about some rampagin' lunatic in here."

His words were cut short by a door on the far side of the room flying off its hinges and catching him in the temple, sending him to a similar state as his drunken customer. Several more eruptions resounded inside the room, and the doctor assigned to it was hurled through the doorframe.

Out charged Koola, his rage unquenched, morphed into his final form. His mask concealed the twisted countenance, which was probably for the best, as his glowing red eyes was enough to scare most of the other patrons screaming away from him.

The changeling picked any object as the receptor of his frustration; chairs dissolved in a single death beam from his finger, deep scorch marks etched into the walls and floor from his eye beams, sections of wall disintegrated by basic energy blasts. With his leg returned to its original form, there was nothing hindering him from expressing himself in the way he knew best; acting like a spoilt child.

"Damn it!" his slightly distorted, dark voice roared. "A fucking saiyan! Raditzu, no less!" There was much history between the two powerhouses, none of which Koola looked upon fondly. "I didn't even get to kill those other saiyan cowards!"

The aggravated Icer stormed past the bar, kicking the unconscious patron out of his path. His fist plowed into the bar, sending shattered wooden splinters into the sky. Finally, the cameras located the source of disturbance in the area. Loud sirens and a feminine voice over the intercom ordered all available guards to the bar area.

Koola's furious eyes caught sight of a room with the inscription reading, "Teleportation Chamber: Earth."

Kerela.

Finding a new purpose, Koola entered a jog towards the door. Just as he was about to past through the frame, a line of Dante's Abyss soldiers lined up in front of it, dropping to one knee in unison and aiming their ki rifles at the transformed changeling.

"What?!" the prince blurted angrily.

"Surrender now, or we'll be forced to take you out!" one of the guards ordered succintly.

Koola found no threat. "Just stand aside." He continued his ferious stomping, passing straight through the barricade of gunman and making it without injury into the teleportation chamber.

"Pfff," the changeling spluttered in contempt. "Is that all you've got?"

The guards turned quickly, seemingly caught unaware as to how Koola moved there. "How... did you do that?" one asked.

Koola was forced to think. He didn't actually touch the guards when he walked through them. What the hell was that about?

"I..."

"Are you... a ghost?" a scared gunman uttered.

The Icer disregarded it. "Whatever. Sorry about the mess."

Of course, he wasn't. He owed an unpaid debt to some saiyans; namely Raditzu, and two others he didn't know the names of. He would know them on sight, though, and next time he did see them...

Koola stepped upon the teleportation tube, and striking a pose so that the guards could remember his transformed glory, burst into a million atoms and left the abyss.

[Android-18]

The humming droned softly and the luminous lights left a calming affect within their glow. This entire section of the hover train was empty, save for one body. A palm lazily hefted her chin upward, yet her lips remained pouted, whether from her hand or otherwise. The sky outside loomed darkly, and rain cascaded downward in sheets. The train sped through the rain and darkness swiftly; it took her away, far, far away.

Her mind wandered, but it wasn?t out of reflection. Confusion was a better word for it. She could just barely see her reflection in the rain covered window. The droplets were being forced against the glass by the wind, but they held on relentlessly. She found that she could relate to this strange recognition. Hanging on to the clear surface, and being pulled along without warning. She couldn?t understand what had happened.

The fact was that Android 18 had little to no recollection of the tournament. She had been badly damaged, and not much could be recovered of her memory banks. She could form fragments of memories in her mind, and she knew she had lost something. She was sent from that place, and back to where she had come from. Apparently the scientists of this event, the ones who had recovered her, believed that she could regain her memories given time. She was, after all, half human, surely there would be something within her brain to be recovered.

She stared out the window as the landscape slid by. She did hope that her memories returned, but then, perhaps this was meant to be. She removed her palm as the train lurched. The main city of Kajin Rala was not much further away, and she had been given a place to stay, which was nice. She looked at her reflection again, and she let a smile play across her lips. Why not?

[Yamu]

Yamu smirked as he looked up from the ground at the ascended Bardock. The two had never liked each other, but neither could speak an ill word of the other?s fighting prowess. His hair now flowed in a blonde imitation of Raditzu?s, arcs of lighting crisscrossed the might Siaya-Jin, his sheer strength alone enough to overpower Yamu now. The Arlian Guardian could be content in falling to such a man, this was a honorable way out. His hand clutched Kari at his side.

One pump of the gun.

?Good game,? Yamu said.

One shot of the gun.




The muck and grime of the Abyss was replaced by the sterility of a hospital room. Yamu sat up, his chest held phantom pains where the final blast had taken him out of the game as well his arm where Raditzu had broken it. But he was in one piece again.

?Yamu!? A familiar high pitched voice called out and a little girl burst past two nurses to wrap her tiny arms as far as they would go around the behemoth man.

?How?d I do, Kari?? The little girl laughed and hugged him again as Moira walked over, the nurses no longer bothering to block people. ?How about you, Moira??

?You didn?t compromise out there?commendable.? Never one prone to emotions, that was the equivalent to kissing him on the cheek the holographic life form would ever come.

Yamu picked up the little girl and slung her around his back, ?Well, let us see if it was enough for Arlia.?

With that the trio entered the tube and flashed back to the red planet.



Yamu was met by representatives of the new Sovereign Sapan, ?Guardian Yamu, there is a parade scheduled in your honor down the main road of Arlo?if you would come with us, we will give you your dress uniform.?

The veiny titan shook his head as he tried to process everything the one abrupt sentence held. ?Wait?a parade? I didn?t even win!?

The insectoids were all smiles, ?You struggle has brought honor to every Arlian. You have given us something we thought we had forgotten forever in the Troubles: our pride. The people could not be prouder Guardian.?

The human cocked his brow where an eyebrow should be, ?What is this about a dress uniform??

The two Arlian?s smiles only grew larger.




The main boulevard that cut from the central gate of Arlo to the palace was wide enough for twenty men to walk abreast. The avenue was packed with citizens as Yamu marched down the middle, a regiment of his elite Regulator unit in front and behind. The uniform he was given was a gleaming silver breast plate that contoured to his muscles with greaves and gauntlets to match. I long billowing cape that dragged the ground for ten paces behind was as black as midnight with the sixteen point star of the Regulators stitched in silver thread. The people?s cheer rang out and a resounding chorus of his name shook through the city.

Yamu had always wanted to make a difference, to do good in the universe. For the first time, he felt as if his presence in the galaxy mattered. Dante?s Abyss had given him what he had always longed for, recognition. He breathed deeply in the scent of adulation?a new Yamu walked the Quadrant.

A Yamu that mattered.

[Bra]

The dazzling display of gunfire lit up the air as Bra fired upon Bardock, and Bardock fired upon Bra. The conflict was not a fight. No, such a term was too brutish for this. This was combat in it’s finest form. A graceful, tantalizing dance, treading the line between life and death, and, more importantly, the one between victory and obscurity.

Sadly, the golden haired princess must have faltered, and her super saiyan adversary managed to fire a shot mere fractions of a second before she would. The bullet, forged of incredibly powerful ki, slammed into her forehead, and immediately, all went silent.

The fight would rage on, but the young, aspiring champion would simply lay on the ground, her sapphire eyes frozen in an expression of shock. Of incredulousness. Her mouth just open enough for a captivating trickle of crimson to paint her ivory cheek.

The halfling awoke with a start. A doctor seemed to be inspecting her health, but Bra immediately pushed her away. The shove was somewhat harder than she had intended, though, and the doctor crashed into a filing cabinet before tumbling to the floor.

“Where am I?!” the daughter of Vegeta demanded, as a faint aura flickered and danced just around the girl’s slender frame.

“You’re in the debriefing area,” responded a medical assistant, who seemed oblivious to the abuse that Bra had delivered unto her doctor. “You were killed by the champion. And in the last fight, too! What an honor, you must be so-”

“What?!” the girl shrieked, cutting off the young man. “I was killed?! By that old son of a-!!”

The ground shook as Bra’s aura erupted into the room. Gold flames howled through the little office, toppling furniture and hurling papers about. The empress’ hair stiffened and separated into vicious spikes, and another explosion erupted from the petite warrior, finalizing her ascension.

Cracks appeared in the floor, and the paper-thin walls of the office blew out, hurling debris into other parts of the complex. The winds grew louder, and soon, the personnel within the building were being thrown about by the maelstrom.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Bra screamed as a pulse of energy rushed forth, disintegrating everything around her. She ignored the doctor’s screams as she was reduced to little more than a stain on the floor. “NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

Bra’s eyes flared with a bright blue glow. “I was supposed to win!! Me!! Raditzu was supposed to die!! I was supposed to beat him!! I was supposed to win! This was my game! Not his! Not his dad’s!! MINE!!” dozens of guards were pouring from hallways in the distance, but the enraged halfling saw them.

Raising a single hand, Bra unleashed an enormous pillar of inky black, magical energy. But, just as she launched her attack, the officials had managed to teleport her, and her deadly assault, into the offices of a competing media company’s development complex. The beam rent the flesh from the bones of several dumbstruck office workers, and then thundered into the wall. The explosion was tremendous. A white flash consumed everything, and as it faded, a crater had replaced most of the sprawling complex.

Security personnel charged from the remnants of the building behind her, opening fire with a pathetic barrage of small arms’ fire. The bullets harmlessly slammed into the super saiyan, before bouncing off and tumbling to the floor.

Bra simply stared at the wall of security guards. Her wild-eyed, psychotic expression seemed to have frightened the guards, as they merely stood, weapons drawn, staring at her. That is, until the ceiling erupted over their heads and a column of black magic smashed into them from above.

The resulting detonation was even more devastating than the previous one had been, and it left the gigantic, concrete-reinforced building in ruins. Nothing remained. Smoke and fire danced all about the princess, whose malignant aura had turned an unnatural black. Somehow, she had remained a super saiyan, despite the disappearance of the form’s trademark flames of gold.

Finally, her hair turned blue and fell onto her shoulders, and the flames faded away. The blue glow shining from her eyes vanished, and Bra stood, alone, amongst the devastation she had wrought.

And somehow, it felt good. The halfling felt electrified, despite her loss, which burned on her mind like the hottest of coals. A new plan quickly formed in her mind. She would recruit anyone who survived the contest longer than she had, including the one who had dispatched her.

Though she was not the champion, she could yet instill fear within the changeling people if she was to recruit the champion, and the other two who had beaten her. In fact, the four best warriors the universe had to offer combined would be far more imposing than just a mere champion on his own.

Bra smiled. The genocide would go as planned, and she would yet subjugate Frost Planet #213. The princess was going to lead the armies of Vegeta-Sei into glorious battle, and she and the other three finalists would wreak armageddon upon the atrocious changeling race.

If any of the finalists would refuse... she would kill them. Exosus would make sure that none with opposing views would survive. But first, Bra had a score to settle.

If Burter wasn’t hiding, chances were good he was with Raditzu and his comrades. And the heiress owed her blue-scaled friend a broken arm, and a brutal whack to the back of the head. She smiled. “Let’s find out how you like it.”