For the Glory of Belegost (Ninjin)

[Lord Zasham]

Agartha, the Gem of Belegost, was teeming with life. Miles beneath the wastelands that were Belegost’s surface, the planet’s capital city was bustling toward the Palatial Estate. Nearly the entire kinigo population had collected, or rather what remained of it. Uryx the Fallen and his dissenters had brought the once proud civilization even further to its knees. They had known the freedom of the Church and its oppression for less than a day when the dishonored murdered the Council of Elders and stole the suit of Kinigor and proclaimed himself the new Great Hunter. His coup had ravaged their numbers as the warrior race fought back, ever loyal to the Hunter; the fallen Arpatiko. Once the rebellion was quelled by Watson and Man, they began rebuilding.

They gathered now because word had come that Tycho himself was coming, with a major announcement. Some were off put by what their Lieutenant had become, not sure if they could trust in this new creature who claimed his name. When William had arrived on Belegost to rescue it, he had taken Tycho’s form to gather supporters to help fight. He told them that he had been captured by the Universal Church of One and experimented on; that they had turned him into the obsidian demon who took the name Zasham. He claimed Watson was the guise he had taken to infiltrate the organization which sought to claim Belegost for his own, of which the android belonged. They had been skeptical at first but he had all of Tycho’s memories and even his fighting style.

When he banded together the loyalists and killed Uryx, whilst Man eliminated the rest of his wretched bloodline, they had cheered. Before he left he promised they would never know subjugation again, that on his life he would protect them. While most of what he said was twisted, that was an absolute truth. Tycho’s fiery spirit which remained after his assimilation still burned deep within the majin, driven by his fierce loyalty to his people. It was one of many reasons why the brothers Zex had to fall, though obviously not the most important one. Nonetheless, he had kept to his promise, albeit more so for his own personal reasons. Word had reached them about the fall of the two space kings, who had come to conquer Belegost. Gamma City’s presence made that all possible, though there was still little communication between the surface and the Underworld. They were understandably not too trusting of outsiders.

So noise filled the streets as they questioned the purpose of this gathering, most eager to see Tycho once more, to see the protégé of the last true Great Hunter, while a few proposed darker intent. Perhaps he would take the place of the Church, of the Fallen? Would he the one to force them back into the mines to slave away for the rest of their lives while he reaped the rewards of their minerals and technology, like so many before him? For most who lived, all they knew where the toils of the mines. Sure, some had been full warriors, commissioned by the Church to serve under Arpatiko and protect their investment. Others had been scientists, furthering the research of their hyper-advanced technology for the Church’s own nefarious means. But the majority had but a single job; manning the mines which ran for miles and miles deep within Belegost.

In order to rebuild it was a job they had to continue, despite their freedom. They were wary of another assault, and were ever ready. When they were not mining, they were training; after all they were a warrior race. Yet here was a dispatch from their daily grind, from long days and longer nights. A relieve, as the amassed outside the palatial estate, one they hoped would never end; for the mines waited, as they always did.

“BROTHERS!” came a booming voice, echoing off every side of the enormous cavern in which Agartha lay. “SISTERS!” it continued as the onlookers lifted their eyes to the sky; their war masks alive with an arriving power level. They would see Tycho, outfitted in the armor of a Lieutenant; the right hand of the Great Hunter, lowered from the sky toward the gates of the castle. The same gates where the flayed bodies of Uryxx and his kin had rested, before rotting away into nothingness. The apparent kinigo paused his descent; his feet hovering just inches above the spikes. Where moments ago there had been thousands of voices, there was now only silence.

Using the scanners in each of their war masks they would find his power level to be 91,959. Powerful, more so than Tycho had ever been, and stronger than 99% of any living kinigo, but they were not impressed; it did not rival Apartiko. They were not the type of race to be easily impressed. They also did not know he wore heavy weights beneath his armor, or that he was only at his base power. “Lend me your ears, and your support, as I wish to return our people to their former glory!” he roared, guttural sounds native to the kinigos escaping his mandibles. There were some cheers, some acknowledge, but it was a minority. Most were not yet convinced, and few were quite skeptical. “And how will you do that!? You’re no kinigo, not anymore!” one such skeptic voiced, three rows back. Zasham wanted to thrash the nonbeliever burn him to ash and prove his might, but it was not the right way.

“It is true, I was changed, my body demonized; but everything I ever was, everything that Tycho ever was, still lives on within me. His undying mission continues, to protect Belegost, to raise the kinigos back to their former greatness,” then they grew silent once more, down to but hushed whispers. Knowing what they had once been, and what they were now, was a sore spot for their race as a collective. They had such pride in the greatness they had all once shared. Then his body began to shift, until a sharp dressed man with slick black hair levitated above the gates. This seemed to instill the dissenters with vigor once more as another added to the first’s rant, “And how is that!? By enslaving us in the mines!?” Before Zasham could speak another added “How will that return our lost glory!?” An anger welled in the apparent human, from Tycho’s spark deep within.

“NO!” the darkly clad man roared into the crowd, a vice shout sending ripples through the air and forcing the front line back a step. The very ground itself shook, as tiny pieces of rock fell from the cavern ceiling far above. Silence once more took the crowd. “NEVER AGAIN SHALL A KINIGO SLAVE AWAY IN THE MINES!” he added after a moment allowed them to absorb his righteous fury, and another sonic wave crashed over them, making them aware of his might. After a moment he adjusted his tie before swiping a few hairs over his ear. Then he continued. “No, I wish to raise you up, to allow you all to be the warriors your ancestors once were! I have found others to take that role, ones deserving of it. Now you will be the masters, the whip wielders. I will see to it,” he stated, not as a promise but as a matter of undeniable fact. The crowd rumbled once more, but the skeptics lay silent as the majority became enthralled.

“The evil kings which came here to claim Belegost and its people as their own would have thrown you all in the mines, to eat away at your souls until you were but hollow shells… But I would NOT allow it! I killed the Lord and claimed Alpha Prime for the glory of Kinigor!” he bellowed as he pounded his chest, invoking the name of the first Great Hunter; after whom the suit each subsequent one wore was named after. This garnered approval from those gathered, but they would not be won so easily. That he always knew. “But I was not alone, a power even greater than mine, my closest ally, the saiyan Ninjin Hattori vanquished the King of Beta Minor and took its helm, along with its organization. He seeks to return the planet itself to its former glory,” he stated, leaving the details intentionally vague for his brothers to expand upon himself. Despite some confusion the statement went over quite well.

“And what do the two of you WANT for these empty promises!?” called the first who had interrupted him, from the second row now. Zasham was done holding back; throwing his arms out to his side a fiery red aura erupted around him as his power level soared to its weighted maximum of 551,750; exponentially more powerful than even Arpatiko, or any kinigo to live for thousands of years. An awe fell over the crowd, and the speaker’s mouth was slack as he stared at the sharp dressed man on fire. “I ask for the honor of being Lord of Belegost, as does the new King of Beta Major. I know I am not a true kinigo any longer, but I do not ask to be Great Hunter. Arpatiko was THE Hunter, the greatest to ever hold our highest position, and I believe he should be the last. I believe the palace should be a shrine in his memory, so that we may never forget the sacrifices he made to ensure the kinigos survived.” It was true, when Arpatiko kneeled before the Warlock and accepted the new roles the entity designated for them, he did so to save their lives. The Warlock would have crushed them all and thought nothing of it, if it meant absolute control of Belegost.

Then Zasham listed forward several feet before lowering gently to the ground before the gates, his hands folding behind his back as the crowd tended to agree with his statements on Arpatiko. There were no kinigos who did not recognize the greatness of their former Lord; those that were blind to his honor perished at Uryx’s side in his coup. “And I ask…” the apparent human added as he slowly stepped toward the crowd, his wild aura still flickering fiercely about him, “That any who think us unfit to return the kinigos to greatness to give us the honor of proving ourselves in the way of our people,” he said referring to the custom of challenge by combat. Many things were settled by the kinigos this way, even Uryx invoked this when he thought himself a better fit for Great Hunter than Arpatiko. Of course, it was considered dishonorable to challenge the decisions made by the Council of Elders; but they were all dead.

[Emperor Ninjin Hattori]

Ninjin had never before been to Belegost. The planet that his empire orbited was a mystery to him. The only facts he knew of it were those relied to him by his adopted brother, William Watson. It had been quite some tale that his brother had woven out before them, one that Ninjin was surprised about, when he had heard it in its entirety.

They had reunited on the planet of Mement Mor. That had been the first time that Ninjin had seen the young majin, then suspected of being human, since their time together on Omega. Unfortunately they had not had time to chat about the events that either had been through, they were absorbed in the midst of battle. Ninjin had died on that world, and that world had died sometime after. It was not a conducive environment to conversation. William had been able to escape the planets destruction, happily enough, and the two had reconnected back on Omega. The events that followed were also not conducive to conversation and so when the two had finally gotten the chance to sit down and talk, a lot was said. A lot of history to absorb.

One of the things that had interested him most was Belegost. The people had fascinated him. Large reptilian creatures with hyper-advanced technologies that were forced into slavery by the church. Despite not being a slave, Ninjin could relate all too well with those whose lives were controlled by the church. These people knew more of his suffering than perhaps any other. The majority of the Saiyan population were new to the horrors of the church. The Kinigos were not.

William had told him the tale of the Great Hunter Arpatiko. There was a creature that Ninjin could have liked to have met and conversed with. There was much the two could have told to one another, and despite never knowing him Ninjin felt a kinship with the creature. Few in the universe could better understand his experience.

The capital city of the world was teaming with life, and with activity. Thousands of Kinigos were making their way towards where Zasham was speaking. One of the beings that made up his brother was Tycho, a Lieutenant of the Kinigo people. For that reason, and because of his experience on the world. Zasham would be the one to speak first. Ninjin hung in the air over the capital, power suppressed. Watching. Listening. His brother was one hell of a public speaker. As his brother began his speech Ninjin felt a special connection to his first word. There were none more brother to William than he.

The Saiyan smiled in support of his brother as he began his speech in earnest. Well prepared. Well practiced. It took much of his self-control to not point a finger and let a death beam take the one-who-would-speak-against-them’s life. He did not. It would not help his brother, nor he, to win over the people.

His brother took the dissent like a practiced speaker and wordsmith. Ninjin beamed with pride. As his brother mentioned his name Ninjin dropped from the sky to land at his side. The crowd would no doubt gasp, the Emperor in his armor cutting quite the imposing figure. His power was still suppressed as he stood by his brother’s side and allowed the dissenter once more to yell at them. His brother’s power-level shot up to its highest in his weights, a power that dwarfed those gathered. It quieted the dissenter.

Zasham told them of their desire to rule them. To better them. To take them and raise them into a place of glory. His brother floated down towards their new people as he spoke to them. They did not wish to replace this iconic figure, but lionize him.

“And I ask…” Zasham said the words slyly, his aura flickering about him at his weighted highest. “That any who think us unfit to return the kinigos to greatness to give us the honor of proving ourselves in the way of our people,”

The majin had told the Saiyan of the way of their people. It was a way he could relate to greatly. At the words Ninjin roared and activated his Ascended Super Saiyan form. His power level was over two million, beyond what even Invictus had had. Beyond anything those gathered could even fathom existed. Their trial by combat would not be needed. There was none who could match Ninjin Hattori. They were safe within his power.

[Lord Zasham]

Safe was an understatement. The assembled people before them were an afterthought in comparison to Ninjin Hattori’s might. Zasham had little issue paying the saiyan his due. However they did not, and would not, respect sheer power. A key difference between the icejin and kinigo races, while the icejin invested heavily in absolute might, the inhabitants of Belegost cared only for skill. The warrior’s way. Neither the apparent human’s power, nor the far greater might of the saiyan beside him, would hold ultimate sway over those assembled. The Church had long reinforced their views of skill versus strength, having lived beneath the zealous juggernauts for centuries.

Then Zasham took several steps forward, toward the crowd, his power falling with each step. The weights began to pull down upon him harder and harder. When he was there, mere feet from the front row, he held up his hands once more. “I request honorable combat, so that you may see the man who wishes to champion you,” he finished, his power level suppressed so it was now no higher than the strongest member of the crowd. There were rumblings, though the dissenters stayed quiet, not wishing to incur their wrath. Then whispers as the people parted with great respect for the two who stood before the sharp dressed Lord of Alpha Prime.

It was a male and female, both tall for their kind though the man stood near a head taller still. They were clad in armor of their own devising, evident by their uniqueness compared to the other commonplace suits. The woman was lithe yet rippled with lean muscle while the man made up for less mobility with an impressive physique. A quiet intensity rested in their eyes, as their war masks rested atop their ropey hair. “I am Tykka, daughter of Tycho the Lieutenant of the Kinigos and hand of the Great Hunter, and I accept your challenge,” she said, a piercing gaze set upon Zasham’s unblinking eyes.

The secret majin did not shutter or move, despite unforeseen emotion welling up within due to Tycho’s presence. “My daughter-” he began to say before she interrupted with an audible scoff. “You are not my father. Lt. Tycho is dead. I accept your offer only so that all here may see you for the fraud you are,” she spat, venom in her words. Could he blame her? No and he should not care. Yet he did, evident by a burning in his chest as her words assailed him. Behind her the grumblings of the dissenters grew. It was all as he had imagined, promises and shows of strength would not win them. Yet her presence was unforeseen.

The taller male stepped past the two, straight to Ninjin and looked down at the saiyan far stronger than he. The kinigo did not bow at his might; to him his worth had yet been proven. Yet neither did he attack or berate him. No, he stood there for a long moment and stared down into the eyes of the saiyan emperor as the crowd grew quiet in anticipation of his words. “I Garatiko, son of Arpatiko the Great Hunter and Lord of Belegost, challenge you to honorable combat,” he spoke with level words void of compassion or distaste. The crowd was now at a hushed whisper as the duo’s faced another; the prides of Belegost and those who wish to rule it. Yet Zasham could only stare at the face of the kinigo woman before him, as he saw her grow from a baby to the specimen before him in a matter of seconds as the memories surged. Tycho’s greatest regret was being forced from his role as a father… Now the creature which assimilated his being now stood opposite his daughter.

[Emperor Ninjin Hattori]

Skill and power were one in the same to Ninjin Hattori. All his life had been training, all his life had been battle. When he was born his training began, and it had never stopped since. The academy had prepared him to be a Saiyan warrior. Vil had prepared him to be a Saiyan elite. Tsyuo had trained him to be a Saiyan King. The last had never come to fruition, but his training had not stopped. A mushroom man, a dragon, an ancient martial arts master, heroes in Heaven, great kings and powers of the past. These had all been his trainers, and the church had insisted that he never stop fighting for his life. As Zasham stepped forwards and lowered his power Ninjin too would draw his power down with his ki suppression.

Two stepped forward through the crowd. So there would be challengers then. Zasham had thought there might be. Ninjin knew nothing of the people, but had fully agreed to fight the strongest and most skilled of them all in order to prove himself to them. Ninjin could only look on at the exchange between the revealed daughter of Tycho and Zasham, who had absorbed the Kingio. Zasham felt the feelings of those inside himself, so Ninjin could only wonder what he was feeling. The emotions a child could stir was not unknown to him.

Another warrior stepped past Zasham and the female and straight up to the Saiyan warrior. The reptilian towered over himself, a menacing presence. The large alien did not bow before him, but Ninjin had not been expecting him to. Though he was stronger by far than this creature it did not care of that. It was honorable combat it was after. Ninjin was more than happy to oblige.

“Garatiko, son of Arpatiko the Great Hunter, I Ninjin Hattori accept your request for honorable combat.” Ninjin surpressed his power to that of the challenger and bowed slightly before him. Zasham and his combatant were lost to him as he and Garatiko began their combat.

Two large glowing blades slid from two slits in the Kinigo’s wrists. They were each two feet long and sizzling with heat and energy. Ninjin cocked his head and said nothing, then fell into a fighting stance. He would not be intimidated by weaponry. They rushed forwards at the same time. Garatiko swiped with his bladed arm, but Ninjin ducked under the blow and slammed a rapid-fire flurry of blows into the reptilian’s armored ribcage. Garatiko staggered back, but lighting quick shot out his foot and caught Ninjin in the sternum. The Saiyan bounced off of the circle of Kinigo that had formed and two blades sliced through the front of his armor, just barely avoiding his vulnerable flesh underneath.

Ninjin rolled off the blades and grabbed the Alien’s arm and brought his elbow down hard against it. A sickening crack filled the air and the audience gasped. Garatiko let out a screech and a cannon popped out of his shoulder. Two rounds slammed into Ninjin’s chest and it felt as if Invictus himself had punched him square in the heart. Blue energy sizzled off of the front of his armor. He staggered back and watched with wide eyes as Garatiko grabbed his arm and set the break, then moved the arm again.

[Lord Zasham]

Ninjin agreed to Garatiko’s request no different than Tykka had accepted his own, yet Zasham did not take a stance like his fellow ruler against his respective challenger. While the towering kinigo’s laser edged blades loosened from their gauntlet sheathes so too did the lithe female. When the sons of Tsuyo and Arpatiko engaged in combat, Tykka also leapt forth. She slammed both fists deep into his abdomen; the blades piercing through amidst a spackle of black blood. A look of surprise was evident despite the war mask which had lowered over her face. She had expected him to be simply goading her but now a sliver of terror hung in her mind; did she kill her father?

“Whether you believe I am your father or not, I do not wish to not harm you,” he said plainly, his gaze never fleeting from her own even as the blades cut through him. He was no more her father than he was the bother or son to Watson’s sister and mother, but he owed them. They were apart of him now, because he had cut their lives short. So it was up to him to fulfill their duties to families and friends. This however only infuriated her, “You coward! You dishonor my father’s name!” That sliver of hope that slept in the back of her mind, that sliver she refused to believe, that her father was still alive, shrank behind her pride as pulled the blades out either side of the apparent human with a sudden jerk of her arms.

She snorted as she followed up with a spinning slash right through his damaged midsection, cutting him in two. “Fraud!” she cried victoriously, as she refused to believe what Zasham had told them. That Tycho had been experimented on and changed by the Church. It was a lie of course, yet one told for amiable reasons by a creature unable to control its vast abilities and victim to the minds it assimilates. Her back turned and down to a single knee following the momentum of her blow, she waiting for two distinct sounds of the perpetrator’s body hitting the ground. Yet only silence greeted her patience as she began to turn she heard a sickening snap coming from the adjacent fight. Something made her spin in her step and take her attention from her own battle; a serious slip up from a kinigo.

Her focus was on the injured kinigo whose arm now dangled loosely. Concern was generally not the strongest trait of Belegost’s inhabitants. Then again her interest seemed to stretch beyond that, though it ended with a defiant scoff once the limb was reset. When she finally turned, moments after her attack, she found the legs of her supposed father still upright; one foot tapping impatiently. Several inches above, leaving a sizable gap in between, was his upper body which simply hovered in place. His arms crossed over his chest. “Fine child, have it your way,” he stated in a brusque manner, similar to Tycho’s own manner of speaking, which seemed to unsettle the woman.

Unfurling his arms, they instantly shifted into claws with long, wide blades for fingers; each one with glowing black energy coating them. All of that was merely to grab her attention, as her bladed gauntlets rose to parry them. With all the speed afforded his suppressed and weighted strength, the detached legs lashed out with a powerful kick to the center of mass. With her arms raised the kick glided in smoothly beneath the entanglement of blades and claws. Then all the power was zapped from her blows as her abdomen was compressed, the air launched from her lungs by the powerful strike. Flying backward Tykka was quick to backflip into a crouched position before skidding to a stop. Meanwhile the upper body of the covert majin lowered and reconnected with its lower half, mending almost immediately without any sign of the division left to see.

Tykka stood, slowly, as she examined all that had transpired in the last few moments; from his hands transforming into vicious weapons to his body reconnecting itself. Even she, as experienced a warrior as she had become, had never seen such feats. “What… Are you?” she said, her words filtered through the speaker in her mask. “I am many things,” Zasham said as his arms returned to their human form. “I am a weapon, a soldier created for perfection,” he stated coldly, reminiscing of his time in purgatory within the laboratory. “I am as much your father, Tycho, as anything else,” then a weird phenomenon overtook his form as ki began to distort his image.

“But above all, I am Lord of Alpha Prime, and I will prove myself worthy of being the same for Belegost,” he said before his form disappeared altogether; a powerful ability afforded the the kinigo power suits. Yet again the female was left moderately surprised, however it was a momentary effect, as she was an elite warrior and if there was one thing her people had in spades it was adaptability. To counter the cannon mounted on her shoulder rose from its deactivated position and took aim, doing its best to follow the veiled ki signature of its target. A growl echoed through her war mask as it began rapid firing blasts of bluish energy to force Zasham out of hiding.

[Emperor Ninjin Hattori]

The blue plasma, energy, whatever it was that was sizzling off of the front of his armor, was hot. Or rather it was corrosive to the point of being hot. Ninjin’s eyes lit up with panic as he wrenched the armor off of himself and got the corrosive material away from his skin, slapping the muscle of his chest to make sure none of it remained. The circle of kinigo around him hissed with pleasure at the martial contest. Garatiko had set his arm once more and it no longer seemed to bother the alien warrior. Ninjin was starting to be impressed with the large reptilian, at the very least at his pain tolerance if not his martial skill.

Garatiko rushed at him. The Saiyan had to be much more careful of the large two foot blades of hissing energy that the kingio possessed without his chest armor. The blades sliced through the air and Ninjin could feel the heat off of them as he flipped through the air in a tight roll. His fist glowed with a golden light and he slammed it into the side of Garatiko’s knee. The screech the kingio released as his knee broke was enough to startle the Saiyan and cause him to stumble backwards. Garatiko’s cannon turned and fired and caught him in the ribs, sending firey pain up his side. The force of it spun the Sayian to the ground.

Ninjin coughed and groaned as he tried to figure out if he was still alive or not. The pain in his side was intense. When he looked down he grimaced. It wasn’t pretty, but it did not seem as if the energy, plasma, what-have-you, ate organic matter. It burned like crazy, and there was a great bruise developing there, but it was not eating into his side as it had the armor. Somehow he found his feet under himself once more and was facing Garatiko.

The creature’s chest heaved up and down, breathing heavy due to the two vicious breaks he had suffered in the combat thus far. Ninjin was not without his own wounds, his arm clutching at his chest and his breath still coming in ragged waves. The crowd was loving it. Ninjin had not been able to see Zasham’s bout due to the intensity of his own.

[Lord Zasham]

Quickly leaping between the plasma blasts, the invisible shapeshifter kept his movement speedy yet erratic, sure to throw off her sensors. When she had loosened nearly a dozen blasts, which had instead flew off to clip a building or crater the ground. The crowd was aware of the risks however, getting clear of the stray blasts in time. Once he felt he had proven his point he activated zano majutsu, his afterimage clone a perfect depiction, which began walking toward Tykka at an even pace. “Is this how you embody your ancestors, girl!” he roared with a hard gaze and stern look. She had heard it many times; her father would say it when she was underperforming during her training. "NO!" she screamed; it took her back once more but it did not stop her.

A volley of three shots pierced the after image, one in the head and two in the chest. The simply passed through the magical afterimage, which nodded sullenly and added a “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” as it started to fade. People in the crowd who had also been fooled barely made it out of the way of her trio of blasts. Meanwhile Zasham ended his boost of speed behind Tycho’s daughter, looking to pin her arms in a bear hug to immobilize her. However she was trained by the Great Hunter and his Lieutenant, and anticipated the rear attack. Only an incredibly hard right elbow, plated in armor, greeted him, or rather his face. Again she was surprised not to hear the nose, or even skull breaking, instead it seemed to push in as if to absorb the blow. Still the power of the strike force him back a step.

Taking advantage she spun backward with a high kick, once again with incredible force; glimpsing Garatiko’s triumphs and struggles seemed to refocus her from the prospect that he opponent was her father, at least in some manner. However she was once again disappointed as the face seemed to mold around the power of the blow. The momentum sent him for a flying cartwheel toward the wall of kinigos. Grasping the ground with spiked fingers he pulled himself in before continuing the spin until he was on his feet. He slid another few inches after landing in a crouch, one hand still buried in the ground. Lines raked the ground where he had pulled himself in and his heels were not even a foot from the crowd.

“That’s better, my girl,” he said with a smirk as he stood to his feet; his fingers returning to human form as he dusted off his suited chest. Her opponent growled, as his body showed no sign of the damage she had inflicted. Even the Emperor, whose power was far greater than his own, showed several visual signs of battle. Yet he looked unscathed, no… Untouched; even his suit and hair was immaculate. A frustrated growl bellowed through the speakers. “You are not my-”, “Father?” he interrupted her with a strange grace; using Tycho's voice. The growl grew to a roar and now it was her turn to charge forward and disappear amidst a blur of speed, leaving only a residual after image striking out at him.

He looked up of course, sure she would not try the same tricked which failed him, and sure enough there she was, coming down upon him with both blades and a silent fury. Reaching up he dispassionately loosed a red energy beam from his palm to meet her and was pleasantly surprised to see it faze through her. Alpha Prime’s Lord had not expected her to double up on the zanzoken, due to the energy drain of doing so, but it had paid off. As he spun backward he found a flurry of bluish spheres crackling with unstable energy racing toward him.

Throwing up his arms was all he could as all but one of the dozen orbs hit their mark. Engulfed in a cloud of smoke and debris, Zasham was obscured from her vision though her war mask and its alternate visions confirmed he was still there. Now Tykka was sure he would be damaged, eleven direct shots at equal power could not possible be shrugged off like all the others attacks. Once the dust settled, she gasped at the wretched creature before her, with whole chunks blown clear off. What remained had been maimed where it had been struck, gaping wounds oozed black and the top right portion of his face was missing. Only one eye was left and beneath where his nose had been was a smile.

“I am proud of the warrior you have become,” he said without anger, as the blackness seemed to gush out of the wounds, expanding to replace what had been taken. Soon his full form returned, though a patchwork of black splotches. After another moment however, he returned to normal; hair and attire immaculate once more and quite dapper to boot. “Shall we end this, daughter?” he said, finally dropping into a stance of his own, though influenced by several masters and rulers he had studied under in his rather short life. Shocked and somewhat horrified, she could not find it in herself to accept her father had become this creature; as if fighting him would prove it all to be untrue.

Digging in the balls of her feet she summoned all her strength as she charged, bellowing a war cry as she held the energy infused gauntlet blades at each side. Likewise Zasham followed suit, shooting straight at the Lieutenant’s daughter; silent as he was deadly.

[Emperor Ninjin Hattori]

Garatiko’s leg shook as he could barely put weight on it. The Saiyan had broken it at a terrible angle with his ki infused fists. The armored alien’s arm too, though it was set, looked as if it was causing the Kinigo a great deal of pain. Ninjin however was not without injury as well. His breath came as though he was sucking through a tube, accompanied by a feeling of fire spreading throughout his body. It was a familiar feeling that told him that kinetic and armor eating shot Garatiko had hit him with had broken his ribs. The Saiyan was clutching his ribs, but removed his arm and let it drop to his side as he stood up straight.

“You are a formidable combatant Garatiko. I think however if we continue one of us is likely to get seriously hurt. I have no desire to lose an incredible fighter such as you, nor do I wish to kill you. Shall we end this?”

The black and blue bruise was quickly spreading over the Saiyan’s ribcage and it was obvious from his ragged breathing that he was hurt. You would not be able to tell it from his posture however. He stood tall and defiant, though he was hurt he would never let it slow him. All his training, all the fighting he had done throughout his life. It was who he was. It was what he was. He had been baptized in the flames of war from the moment he was born, for who he was, for what he was. Pain was no stranger to Ninjin Hattori, and the Kinigio would see no sign of weakness wherever they searched on the Saiyan Emperor. There was a might to Ninjin beyond his power-level.

Garatiko said nothing, but raised his bladed arm to point at the Saiyan. The gesture was clear enough. The Emperor had yet to prove himself to the towering reptilian like humanoid in the battlesuit. Ninjin nodded and fell into a fighting stance.

“So be it.”

At nearly the same time as the two released their war cries, two could be heard from the other side of the fighting area. The bouts were drawing to a close, and the potential lords of Belegost would prove themselves worthy. They had come too far for anything else.

[Lord Zasham]

They closed the gap in seconds, she making the first attack, swiping high with a ki blade. He ducked under and shot forward, sweeping in under her arm to deposit an elbow into her ribs. She sucked in air, something he could hear by via the temporary strain placed on the breather of the war mask. Having near fully assimilated Lt. Tycho, he had become quite familiar with the subtle nuances of the kinigo culture. Spinning to his lift while kicking off the ground he dropped the other elbow to her opposite side; coming underneath her other arm he raised an hand to push the blade out of his path as he struck. She stepped back on her left foot, adjusting her weight and repositioning her right foot, and then her left leg snapped forward again, delivering a knee to his side.

She followed it up with a forearm across his back, using her superior size to mercilessly slam him to the ground. As she roared in triumphantly, the Lord’s foot extended and curled back in to kick her square in the chest, thrusting the air from her lungs. Pulling his face from the ground Zasham shook himself, his face merely a blur for a few seconds. Following that he leapt as Tycho’s daughter gasped for air, driving a shoulder into her midsection. She fell back hard and skidded a few feet, all the while desperately dragging air into her desperate lungs. He immediately began stomping the ground, leaving craters each time she rolled out of the path; all the while sucking in oxygen.

Finally she caught his foot before kicking up with her own to hit him square in the sternum. Going with the motion, the strike flipped him backwards. Landing on his feet with a graceful thud he stepped forward once more only to be met with a raised shoulder cannon. As she fired a grouping of blasts, he juked hard to the side, a gun of his own appeared from within his shoulder sprang forth and took aim as he completed his spin. They fired at one another, erupting the area around them in a fiery explosion and covering them with dust. The battle was quick to continue, however, as both switched to alternate vision modes to continue to cloaked combat. Several loud thuds, and many hisses from the energy blade singing the air as it swung, they sprang to the sky; his cannon was gone from the blast, though her’s remained. Taking aim at his face as she held him in a fierce bear hug, Zasham let out a vicious scream which instantly shattered her visor, confusing the targeting sights for the cannon, allowing him the time to spring two new arms free from her grasp which he brought together at her head.

Catching the cannon on the swipe in, a thunderous clap echoed as the two new arms crumbled the weapon and mask in one move; though they protected Tykka. Lifting both legs and wedging them between, she kicked Zasham with all her might, sending him hurtling into the dirt. As she fell two folded shurikens appeared in either hand which she promptly threw at the falling Lord, which extended as they sought out their target. Catching himself with all four hands he flipped himself right up just in time four all four weapons to pierce his body; chest, abdomen, original right shoulder and left thigh. While each hand pulled one free, she appeared bringing both blades down overhead. Blocking her attempt to shred him with his upper arms, the lower pair worked on deflecting her kicks whilst simultaneously softening her up with rapid strikes to the ribs in order to further impeded her breathing.

Her reptilian face was now visible, her mandibles spread as she roared. Twisting her body she caught a fist between her calves, then spun he body, pulling him off balance. Following up with a kick to the face and throat caused him to stumbled back and loosen one of her hands. Pulling it free she swiped high, taking off the other arm which held her. That arm free she fell forward into him and, cutting off the other new arm. As the limbs fell he swung his head forward, his neck extended a bit to clear the distance to her mighty skull. The blow from the exchange sent them tumbling a few feet from one another. A moment later however they are the center of the gap, both blades plunged into the Lord of Alpha Prime’s abdomen. While sweat poured down her face she fought for air; Zasham too was winded though seemingly ignorant to the energy blades within his stomach.

Then she cast her eyes to the side; a sin for a kinigo to not follow up a successful strike, nonetheless take their eyes from battle. Regardless of her mistake, he refrained from taking advantage, still hoping she would see the truth as he had laid it out before her. Meanwhile a father’s intuition told her there was more to this sideways glance then one might think.

[Emperor Ninjin Hattori]

They rushed each other and Ninjin slid under the bladed arm. When he regained his footing he reached out with his mind and a dagger flipped from his belt. A cannon popped from Garatiko’s shoulder and the Emperor deftly flicked the knife, subtly using his control over metal to guide the weapon, into the charging blue maw. Electircty popped and sparked from the damaged weapon and the reptiallian alien angrily reached up to rip it off. Ninjin took the advantage and pointed a single finger at Garatiko’s gauntlet, the one that housed the blades. A single red line shot from Ninjin’s finger, nearly quicker than the eye could see. It cut through the gauntlet and it fell to the ground. They sized each other up once more.

At once their fists slammed into the other’s face. A kinetic force shot out as the titans of their respective races each sought to finish their bout. The stakes couldn’t have been higher for either combatant. For Garatiko, this was about defending his people, defending his way of life, from those who sought to claim its kingdom. For Ninjin it was about proving himself to those he would rule. They respected strength and martial skill? There were few in the universe who could match the Saiyan. Neither staggered backwards. Ninjin’s other fist came around and slammed hard into the Kinigo’s ribs as the alien’s good leg slammed into his own ribcage.

A scream welled up inside his chest and threatened to burst. He had opened himself up to the jarring blow, one that his injured ribs couldn’t withstand. However the blow had been one that lacked the massive armored alien’s full strength. Ninjin brought his own leg up and booted the alien in the chest and the Garatiko stumbled backwards.

“We don’t have to kill each other.”

“No.”

Ninjin was surprised by the answer. Thus far Garatiko had said nothing after the challenge, whereas he could hear Zasham and his opponent conversing throughout. For a moment he let his guard drop.

“I… have… to kill you.” The voice was ragged, battle-scarred as much as the being that spoke them. Ninjin’s eyebrows rose.

“Why is that? I do not seek to harm you or your people. Under Zasham and my rule you will be uplifted in the galaxy. Have I not proven myself a capable warrior”

“You will never… be capable enough… You are not Arpatiko. I would not dishonor him by ever giving up.”

Ninjin’s jaw slacked slightly. It was not what he was expecting. He would not fail for honor? That was something the Saiyan could understand.

“Very well.”

The rushed each other once more. Ninjin slid under a haymaker and lifted himself on one hand spinning his lower body in the process. Garatiko’s broken leg gave easily under the applied force and he slammed hard on his back but rolled through to his feet once more. Ninjin charged him and tackled him, taking the massive alien off his feet and slamming him to the ground. The sound of snapping filled the air as once again the alien’s leg snapped. Garatiko’s good hand came up and jabbed the Saiyan in his broken ribs. It wasn’t just a punch though, long reptilian claws easily punched through skin and stabbed deep. Ninjin’s grip slipped as he groaned in pain and the kinigo’s palm from his broken arm dug into Saiyan’s face. Ninjin grabbed his hand and shoved it out of the way, but was quickly head-butted and rolled backwards on his feet.

Much to the Emperor’s surprise Garatiko was once again getting to his feet, despite his leg being terribly broken, and his arm as well. No blood slipped from the four puncture wounds on Ninjin’s abdomen, but the damage was done. Accompanied by the disgusting bruise that covered the Saiyan’s side, it was a wonder how he was still fighting. These wounds were almost laughable compared to what the young warrior had been through in his life, but he could not take they, or Garatiko, lightly. Death still meant death.

“You are a credit to your people. There is nothing that can make you stay down? No other way to finish this?”

The only response was a slow shaking of the towering creature’s head.

“It was an honor to have fought you. I will lead your people in your memory.”

Ninjin raised his finger and pointed it at the proud warrior. They would fight to the death, and Ninjin could not allow himself to be the one to die. Already a fiery pain shot up and down his side and his breath came in painful strained pulls. Garatiko would kill him given the chance. Though he had died once before he could not afford to do so again. Who knows if he would be allowed to leave once more. He would end this. A point of red energy formed at the tip of his finger. For the towering warrior’s sake he would make it quick. A red line shot forth.