Day One: Morning

[Zangya]

Dante’s Abyss had given her happiness, and now, just like that, it stole it from her, leaving her wounded, isolated, and alone. She sat on the bed, cradling her head in one of her palms. Blood soaked the olive skin that encased that perfect little hand, and all at once, Zangya’s emotions—the emotions that she had been hiding behind cold walls of pride for so long now flooded into her mind, and she could not sit here, in this room, with these people, listening to their bickering and bandying. She wanted solitude, and she would have it.

She stood, and hurried out of the room—as though she knew what was going to happen, she warned Celipa and Aero not to follow, not to attempt to comfort her. She just wanted to be alone, and she could not have her time to muse with them so near. Her feet carried her up the scores of stair flights; they led her up centurions of steps—and with a short push, she burst out onto the rooftop, and let tears flow alongside blood.

The petite warrior collapsed to her knees as emotions bounded throughout her mind. She searched for that memory, that one, painful memory that she had attempted to block out—and there it was. Like a beacon in the night, that memory could now be envisioned in front of her eyes. She was speechless—she hadn’t wanted to see his face before, to gaze upon his clear, emerald complexion… but there he was, sitting right in front of her eyes, and now she had to understand that this man, wherever he was, wandering throughout the galaxy, was the father of her child. She tried to say his name, and was successful, but it came out as a mere whisper.

“Gokua.”

The lark was singing. Zangya could hear its beautiful music from a mile away, and her head cocked to see the nest sitting peacefully on the edge of the building. The mother lark had just returned to her children, and was feeding them. It all seemed so calm, so quaint—it didn’t fit the setting. It seemed to be the one thing that remained undisturbed in this world, even with the carnage that had so clearly already begun to tear this land apart. Zangya looked back to the mirage that was Gokua, and stood, taking his hand in hers. One last walk together.

The pair—one real, one a figment of that one’s imagination—walked over to the edge of the building. Zangya released the projection’s hand, and knelt down beside the nest. The mother lark gazed at the woman, confounded by her and her presence here. This planet was normally abandoned, free of any contact with humanoid life. Zangya stuck out from the mold, and the lark felt her nest being invaded. Zangya eyed the bird sweetly as it backed away in fear.

“I’m not going to hurt you, little one,” she whispered, reaching a finger out, “I know you’re afraid. I know what fear is—and I can tell you this: I am not one of the manifestations of it, my friend.” The lark hesitantly hopped forward, climbing reluctantly onto the outstretched pointer of her nest’s trespasser. The lark sensed that this woman meant her no harm, and she suddenly felt relieved as the green woman stood, holding her newest friend gently on her finger. The eyes of the Ader drifted back to the nest, and she suddenly realized that the chicks only had one parent there to guide them. She looked back at Gokua.

“You see?” the ghostly mirage said to her, “You don’t need me.” The figure stroked the bloody cheek of Zangya, and then spoke once more: “I know you’ve been obsessing, Zangya. It’s clear on your face what your wanderings have been for. Your failure isn’t in vain, though. You’ve found people—friends—who will be more than willing to help you.”

Zangya smiled, and the bird glided from her finger back to her nest. “You’re right,” the jade princess said, reaching up to his cheek and grasping him gently by the neck. She pulled the mirage close to her face. “I’m strong,” she said, pressing their foreheads together, “And I can pull through. Celipa and Aero can help me. They can help me. I don’t need you.” Gokua looked offended, but Zangya grinned.

He knew what she meant.

She pulled him closer, and stood higher, pressing her face towards his. As their lips met for what had been the first time in a long while, the vision dissipated; and with that, she was alone again, with only the comforting sounds of the lark’s songs to guide her onwards. She would go back downstairs, and she would kick her comrades into gear. He had helped her. He had inspired her. She massaged her stomach, and prayed to God that the baby would not trouble her anymore through this competition, though she was more than sure it would. After all, it was a baby—it demanded constant attention, and that was what Zangya planned to give it.

The spirit of Gokua guided her down the steps, its presence lingering with her, even if the mind of the Ader denied him access to her sight. The metaphysical aspect of her mind made her promise to not indulge in distracting fantasies like that anymore, but no matter how much she tried, he still loitered in her memory, never wavering.

The Ader walked back into the room. “Not contemplating to kill me, are you?” she joked. Aero was taken aback—how could she have recovered that quickly? Celipa simply smiled, knowing that her friend had accepted the burden that she had placed upon herself. “Come on,” she urged, “Let’s go. Aero’s right, we need to kick it into gear. Maybe not go after Seventeen quite yet, but we need to get moving. Bardock ain’t gonna sneak up behind me this time.”

Aero couldn’t have left the room fast enough. Zangya sat down on one of the beds, watching as he quickly ran down the stairs. Celipa chuckled. “You sure you want to do this?” she asked her, struggling through the pain in her jaw.

“I’m sure, Celipa,” Zangya assured her. “Besides, I’m not doing it alone. I’ve got friends on my side.” Zangya ushered her friend on, and the Saiyan woman walked confidently out of the room. Zangya’s pain had nearly subsided—the blood that coated her skull had dried, and the wound was slowly bandaging itself up. Ah, the wonders of the organic body.

With that, the mirage appeared again, and Zangya and Gokua followed their comrades, hand-in-hand.

[Bardock]

Was there ever such a thing as boundaries with this woman? Not only did he not care what anybody else thought, he especially didn’t care what the viewers thought. Sure, it was fun to get the fans riled up and share in his excitement before a kill, but what did it matter if they thought he was a greasy pig? It wasn’t like he had any control over how much his stomach demanded of him. When it wanted food, it wanted food, and there was nothing else to it. He would think that if Violet had spent a year on his homeworld that she would have gathered that much.

And then there were more of those pet names. This wasn’t a singles bar, this was Dante’s Abyss, damnit. Wasn’t he sociable enough? Didn’t he give Violet her space? He was not the type of man who needed—or wanted—to be mothered. Bardock supposed the only redeeming value at this point would be that she could cook, and although he could eat just about anything, flavor did hold some worth.

The fighter just hoped that they would find some action quickly to shake up the boredom. That monotony of it all tended to set in very quickly.

Once the environment around them began to turn decidedly unnatural, they realized they had reached their destination and could go no further. Bardock moved to higher ground, doing his best to keep concealed under the cover of the many places to hide. He swiveled his head this way and that, looking for potential threats. His scouter detected nothing…nothing alive, anyway. The sun high above was beginning to beat down upon the island as the day reached its midpoint. Sweat began to break out across his skin, and Bar could feel the temperature beginning to rise. This was the time when everyone had equal advantage: it was broad daylight, and each fighter was at their most alert. It now became a matter of position and timing.

The saiya-jin’s eyes squinted as he looked towards the far-off distance. There was a large body of water hedging them in. In years past, it had been calming and cleansing to go for a swim between battles. Unfortunately, it wasn’t exactly the best time. Besides a forest, this was one of the worst places to be. Cover was provided evenly, and there were too many places for an enemy to crawl out of.

He tensed up as he heard footsteps approaching. Readying his axe, Bardock pressed his back against a wall. A shadow drew closer and closer, and the saiya-jin prepared to swing as someone came around the corner.

Violet gasped in surprise as the blade stopped just before striking. Bardock grinned, eyes drawn to the nail gun pointing at his face. Talk about paranoia. He’d almost forgotten she was here.

“Don’t do that,” she chided as she withdrew her weapon, as did he.

“We should get what need and leave.”