Post by Emperor Ninjin Hattori on Sept 8, 2014 0:52:20 GMT -5
The breaths came ragged and uneasy, and though the temperature in the room was fairly high, and he was sweating from the rigorous exercise he had been putting himself through, the lump of ice that had formed upon hearing the news of his younger brother’s, mother’s and father’s deaths was still there, ever in the spot that it had been since it had formed. Were the deaths at the hands of his sister? The details had been hazy, but what the former prince did know was that his sister had been involved, had killed his mother and father, and Leke had died in the cross fire. And then she had seized the throne, in a military coup that none could stand against, as none had the power. More reports had continued to flood in then from soldiers on New Vegeta who were still loyal to the former crown prince. None could do anything though. None could but sit and watch as the throne they had been loyal too for so long was taken by someone who didn’t belong in the seat. Though they stood with Ninjin, they couldn’t help by kneel to Akassa. At least until the would-be-king returned.
They were saying that Akassa had reached the level of Super Saiyan. That she was the legendary super Saiyan and that she had come to bring the Saiyan people out of the darkness and into a new golden age of prosperity. Was it true? Was she a Super Saiyan? And what of that power that he had released upon hearing the news? The power that seemed to be conjoined to the icy presence in his chest. Was that the power of a Super Saiyan? He had felt within him then more power than he had ever felt before. It outclassed Aer Nin by miles. It was the power to destroy a planet. A sobering reminder of both the constant flux he found his thoughts to be in, and of the genocide he was potentially about to commit.
A wrapped fist slammed into a punching back that weighed more than elephants they had back on earth, and harder too. The prince’s body shuddered with the force, muscles flexing and firing as he put his strength behind the blow. Every time he thought about Leke’s face a flash of rage would pulse through his mind and he would hit the bag that much harder, his power level spiking up towards his true power with every punch. He hit the bag until his knuckles were bleeding through the wrappings, and then he hit the bag more. Blow after blow, till his knuckles were numb and then on. His father and mother’s proud smiles. Then his thoughts shifted to those he had lost in the U.C.O.O attack. Damn his life had been filled with loss recently.
It was not the first bag he had destroyed that day, the battered thing finally giving way and exploding with tremendous kinetic force. Ninjin brought up a bandaged hand and covered his eyes to not get any sand in them, then, wordlessly, he walked over and picked up another bag. Once it had been set into place his fists did not need any provoking, and he picked up the steady rhythm that he had left off in. His rage was not to be subsided by mere bags, but it was better than to sit and be alone with his thoughts. Much better to be doing something.
Memories of training Leke to use his Oozaru form filled the prince’s mind as he loosed his frustrations. His power level would spike dangerously high every so often with his rage. Out of the corner of his eye the king of vampires noticed Maru looking worriedly down into the training room from the observation deck. How long had he been there? Long enough to see a few bags being destroyed. It was the spiking of the power-level that had brought him down here, and now that he was here he couldn’t help but watch. There was something mesmerizing about the tragic grief in the former prince’s actions. Someone was going to pay for what had happened, he just didn’t know whom he should be mad at yet. His sister… well he was mad at her for everything that had happened, but he wasn’t ready to solely place the blame on her head yet. They would have words when he got back to New Vegeta.
If A nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him. If he ever made it back to New Vegeta. They didn’t know what kind of threats they would find when they arrived wherever it was they were going. They would at the very least have to deal with the assassin and whomever he alerted and then he would have the pleasant task of blowing the place the hell up. If the welcoming party didn’t kill them on arrival. It was highly likely that they were speeding through space on a suicide mission.
“You’re stronger than to ever think like that.” A voice broke the until-now-unnoticed tense silence. Ninjin spun around and to his surprise his father was leaning against one of the unbroken bags, looking as alive as the last time Ninjin had seen him healthy. A proud beaming grin split the face of the king. The former crown-prince was taken aback and did a double take.
“Not even turning around when your sister murders your whole family. You have a level of work ethic that makes all others pale in comparison.” The way he said it was with a smile and seemed earnest, but Ninjin didn’t know whether the specter was mocking him or not. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. This could very well be something other than it seemed.
“You’re not my father, so what are you? Who are you? Is this a trick of the church?” Ninjin fell into a fighting stance in front of the specter. It wouldn’t be the first time that something like this had happened if it was a trick of the church. Kuda had powers that could return the dead, albeit in a horrifying form. Though how in the world would they have gotten onto the ship as it was screaming through space? It didn’t seem possible, but with that kind of power… Last time Ninjin literally had to sell his soul in order to defeat the thing, but he was so much stronger now than he was then, stronger than his father?
“Now boy that was a bad idea even before I died.” He remarked sternly, and the chastising tone inflicted a pang of mourning in the young Saiyan’s heart. He would never hear that again. His father would never be disappointed in him again, never proud either. No longer would the king be able to help the former crown-prince and guide him. His safety net was gone. It made him feel that much more alone in the world. How could he stand here and look upon his father and pretend that the man wasn’t dead? The king’s eyes softened.
“I’m a hallucination. A manifestation of guilt and anguish brought about in the form that you needed most. The one that could help you deal with this all, your father, the strongest man you’ve ever known. You’re more like me then you know my son.” The proud smile returned. One that the Saiyan had seen so often.
“What do I do Father?” He felt it all rushing out of him, the emotion was pouring out of him and he hit his knees as he looked upon the specter of his deceased father. It wasn't fair for his psyche to break on him like this... not now. Maru had long since returned to the cock-pit, having had seen enough of the broken man’s grief. The specter frowned but his eyes remained kind.
“You do what you’ve always done Ninjin. You do what you think is right. Your family is not entirely gone, Azuki still needs his father, Nasu is still alive, as for Akassa… well that is a harder story. You will know what to do when that time comes. But that can wait. Your biggest enemy was and is the Universal Church of One. Committing genocide… well that may not be the answer, but on the other hand, how much more are you prepared to lose? That question stands regardless, and in the end is what it all boils down to, how much more are you prepared to lose Ninjin Hattori?” The king repeated the question with more force.
If he didn’t destroy the planet, then he was giving the church a pass for killing thousands of Saiyans. It would take far too long to attempt to only kill those that were in the church's military, and once more all the members of the church sought to kill Saiyans. They would continue, unabashed, unmercifully, and with more force. They had lost one cardinal, but their actions had resulted in the death of a king, queen, prince, and thousands of others. The Saiyan race was very weak as it stood. It would be the fangs into the jugular of the Saiyan race. Was he going to let his people die off for a second time? If he did destroy the planet, innocent lives may be taken, if he didn't they would definitely be. At that moment, the answer seemed clear.
“I will not lose anything else.” His voice took on a hardened edge of determination. He looked up at his father. Their eyes met, and for once the prince did not find himself intimidated by the eye contact. Maybe it was because this wasn’t really his father, maybe it was because he had finally grown into a man. Whatever it was, he found himself comforted by the moment, the ice in his chest was ever present, but began to release, ever so slightly. His family would have justice. His people would have justice. He would have justice.
Turning he poured his ki into his fist, an aura overtook him, his father’s figure, The prince roared and his fist, enveloped in a red aura that resembled his father, also roaring, slammed into the new punching bag and shattered it with tremendous force. The specter was gone, and Ninjin’s answer had become clear. Despite his own feelings, for the good of the Saiyan people…
He had a planet to destroy.
Master Level Technique Learned:
Father-Son Strike: Putting his all behind a hellacious blow, a glowing red aura envelopes Ninjin in the form of his father, striking as one, they deliver a blow capable of unbelievable damage. (Think Armor’s energy armor from X-men. [google it.])
They were saying that Akassa had reached the level of Super Saiyan. That she was the legendary super Saiyan and that she had come to bring the Saiyan people out of the darkness and into a new golden age of prosperity. Was it true? Was she a Super Saiyan? And what of that power that he had released upon hearing the news? The power that seemed to be conjoined to the icy presence in his chest. Was that the power of a Super Saiyan? He had felt within him then more power than he had ever felt before. It outclassed Aer Nin by miles. It was the power to destroy a planet. A sobering reminder of both the constant flux he found his thoughts to be in, and of the genocide he was potentially about to commit.
A wrapped fist slammed into a punching back that weighed more than elephants they had back on earth, and harder too. The prince’s body shuddered with the force, muscles flexing and firing as he put his strength behind the blow. Every time he thought about Leke’s face a flash of rage would pulse through his mind and he would hit the bag that much harder, his power level spiking up towards his true power with every punch. He hit the bag until his knuckles were bleeding through the wrappings, and then he hit the bag more. Blow after blow, till his knuckles were numb and then on. His father and mother’s proud smiles. Then his thoughts shifted to those he had lost in the U.C.O.O attack. Damn his life had been filled with loss recently.
It was not the first bag he had destroyed that day, the battered thing finally giving way and exploding with tremendous kinetic force. Ninjin brought up a bandaged hand and covered his eyes to not get any sand in them, then, wordlessly, he walked over and picked up another bag. Once it had been set into place his fists did not need any provoking, and he picked up the steady rhythm that he had left off in. His rage was not to be subsided by mere bags, but it was better than to sit and be alone with his thoughts. Much better to be doing something.
Memories of training Leke to use his Oozaru form filled the prince’s mind as he loosed his frustrations. His power level would spike dangerously high every so often with his rage. Out of the corner of his eye the king of vampires noticed Maru looking worriedly down into the training room from the observation deck. How long had he been there? Long enough to see a few bags being destroyed. It was the spiking of the power-level that had brought him down here, and now that he was here he couldn’t help but watch. There was something mesmerizing about the tragic grief in the former prince’s actions. Someone was going to pay for what had happened, he just didn’t know whom he should be mad at yet. His sister… well he was mad at her for everything that had happened, but he wasn’t ready to solely place the blame on her head yet. They would have words when he got back to New Vegeta.
If A nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him. If he ever made it back to New Vegeta. They didn’t know what kind of threats they would find when they arrived wherever it was they were going. They would at the very least have to deal with the assassin and whomever he alerted and then he would have the pleasant task of blowing the place the hell up. If the welcoming party didn’t kill them on arrival. It was highly likely that they were speeding through space on a suicide mission.
“You’re stronger than to ever think like that.” A voice broke the until-now-unnoticed tense silence. Ninjin spun around and to his surprise his father was leaning against one of the unbroken bags, looking as alive as the last time Ninjin had seen him healthy. A proud beaming grin split the face of the king. The former crown-prince was taken aback and did a double take.
“Not even turning around when your sister murders your whole family. You have a level of work ethic that makes all others pale in comparison.” The way he said it was with a smile and seemed earnest, but Ninjin didn’t know whether the specter was mocking him or not. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. This could very well be something other than it seemed.
“You’re not my father, so what are you? Who are you? Is this a trick of the church?” Ninjin fell into a fighting stance in front of the specter. It wouldn’t be the first time that something like this had happened if it was a trick of the church. Kuda had powers that could return the dead, albeit in a horrifying form. Though how in the world would they have gotten onto the ship as it was screaming through space? It didn’t seem possible, but with that kind of power… Last time Ninjin literally had to sell his soul in order to defeat the thing, but he was so much stronger now than he was then, stronger than his father?
“Now boy that was a bad idea even before I died.” He remarked sternly, and the chastising tone inflicted a pang of mourning in the young Saiyan’s heart. He would never hear that again. His father would never be disappointed in him again, never proud either. No longer would the king be able to help the former crown-prince and guide him. His safety net was gone. It made him feel that much more alone in the world. How could he stand here and look upon his father and pretend that the man wasn’t dead? The king’s eyes softened.
“I’m a hallucination. A manifestation of guilt and anguish brought about in the form that you needed most. The one that could help you deal with this all, your father, the strongest man you’ve ever known. You’re more like me then you know my son.” The proud smile returned. One that the Saiyan had seen so often.
“What do I do Father?” He felt it all rushing out of him, the emotion was pouring out of him and he hit his knees as he looked upon the specter of his deceased father. It wasn't fair for his psyche to break on him like this... not now. Maru had long since returned to the cock-pit, having had seen enough of the broken man’s grief. The specter frowned but his eyes remained kind.
“You do what you’ve always done Ninjin. You do what you think is right. Your family is not entirely gone, Azuki still needs his father, Nasu is still alive, as for Akassa… well that is a harder story. You will know what to do when that time comes. But that can wait. Your biggest enemy was and is the Universal Church of One. Committing genocide… well that may not be the answer, but on the other hand, how much more are you prepared to lose? That question stands regardless, and in the end is what it all boils down to, how much more are you prepared to lose Ninjin Hattori?” The king repeated the question with more force.
If he didn’t destroy the planet, then he was giving the church a pass for killing thousands of Saiyans. It would take far too long to attempt to only kill those that were in the church's military, and once more all the members of the church sought to kill Saiyans. They would continue, unabashed, unmercifully, and with more force. They had lost one cardinal, but their actions had resulted in the death of a king, queen, prince, and thousands of others. The Saiyan race was very weak as it stood. It would be the fangs into the jugular of the Saiyan race. Was he going to let his people die off for a second time? If he did destroy the planet, innocent lives may be taken, if he didn't they would definitely be. At that moment, the answer seemed clear.
“I will not lose anything else.” His voice took on a hardened edge of determination. He looked up at his father. Their eyes met, and for once the prince did not find himself intimidated by the eye contact. Maybe it was because this wasn’t really his father, maybe it was because he had finally grown into a man. Whatever it was, he found himself comforted by the moment, the ice in his chest was ever present, but began to release, ever so slightly. His family would have justice. His people would have justice. He would have justice.
Turning he poured his ki into his fist, an aura overtook him, his father’s figure, The prince roared and his fist, enveloped in a red aura that resembled his father, also roaring, slammed into the new punching bag and shattered it with tremendous force. The specter was gone, and Ninjin’s answer had become clear. Despite his own feelings, for the good of the Saiyan people…
He had a planet to destroy.
Master Level Technique Learned:
Father-Son Strike: Putting his all behind a hellacious blow, a glowing red aura envelopes Ninjin in the form of his father, striking as one, they deliver a blow capable of unbelievable damage. (Think Armor’s energy armor from X-men. [google it.])
