Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Hybrid ❯ Revelations ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: Still not owned by me. Probably won't by the time your finish reading this, either.

 

A/N: This is still only a DBZ story by description and ostensive references to Frieza. I realize this, but don't want a story filled with plot holes and questions; given this, I'm attempting to fill out the protagonist as thoroughly as possible, with a progression in emotions/fighting skills/what have you being ground in at least some basis in reality. I'm not comfortable with him learning everything there is to know about himself overnight.

 

*Outside*

 

Writer: You ready?

 

Bulma: Why the hell did you drag me out here? It's like 20 fucking degrees! It's snowing!

 

Writer: You gonna go in and get your husband to shut the hell up, then?

 

Bulma: What the fuck? He can do whatever he wants! He'll fucking blast you if you don't stop running that mouth of yours!

 

Writer: Put em up! *raises fists* Come on, dammit! I'll kick your ass from here to next week. Then, I'll fuck Vegeta up, too.

 

Bulma: Whatever. I bet you can't beat my ass, much less his!

 

Writer: O, RLY? *stomps on Bulma's foot*

 

Bulma: Owww!!! You son of a bitch! Right on the damn big toe! I fucking hate you, you bastard!

 

Writer: I'll do it again! Watch this shit! *stomps on Bulma's foot*

 

Bulma: You motherfucker! Owwwww! Vegeta, DO SOMETHING!!!!!!

 

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Carnage and chaos reigned supreme on Chimitsu; entire cities and communities burned as explosions of ki rained endlessly onto the ground from high above. The planet—once a peaceful place—had been reduced to rubble in a little under a day. The perpetrators had arrived unexpectedly, but left nothing but destruction in their wakes; with long tails, white skin, horns, and piercing red eyes, they'd come with only one purpose:

 

To capture the one that got away.

 

These creatures were clones of Frieza's and Celipa's DNA, but with a number of alterations made to the process. First, Frieza's staff had made sure to implant control chips into each clone in order to prevent another escape. Then, the regimen to churn out vicious, cold-blooded killer had been accelerated; while the first clone had received his increased strength and combat techniques over the course of a few weeks, the newest clones received theirs in a matter of a day. As a result, they were in full control of their powers—ki attacks, super strength and speed, and everything else. What's more was, they were willing, no, directed, to use their powers to the fullest in order to find their predecessor and kill him. The first wave of soldiers consisted of about 20 clones; after being set loose with their orders, Chimitsu was the first planet to feel their wrath. Cities were torn apart in their search, and there was nothing the planet's citizens could do to stop them. Despite the valiant efforts of millions, they all fell at the feet of the ruthless clones, beaten mercilessly and killed in cold blood. However, their search had not produced the desired result: the young boy was nowhere to be found.

 

I wish that I could tell you that there were survivors, and that they were eventually able to rebuild their homes despite being trampled by Frieza's newest weapons. Unfortunately, this was not to be. After a fruitless search, the small army of clones gathered, flying high into the air as they prepared to leave the now-barren planet. However, before leaving, one turned to look down at the wasteland; smirking, he held out his hand, forming a small ball of ki in his palm. After charging it, he let it fly before turning with the others to fly and continue their search. As they did, the ball of ki hit the ground, sinking into it and going straight to the planet's core. The ball exploded on impact, taking the core with it; with that, the planet—and its remaining inhabitants—suffered the same fate that millions before them had. Villages and towns collapsed into the ground, citizens screaming for help that would never come. Molten lava rose to the surface and swallowed up entire nations. Finally, the planet, unable to support itself, exploded, bits and pieces of it flying deep into empty, black space. Soon, the army would find the young boy, and he would suffer the same fate if unprepared.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I studied Sensei closely, his hands wrapped around the handle of the sword, even as it sat in a sheath at his hip. He turned slowly, walking towards the large fire that burned just to the left of the temple's main entrance; I followed behind him, unsure of the conversation to come.

 

“You are not like the others,” he began, his face alit by the glowing orange fire. “The fish you carried—you did so without straining yourself, didn't you?”

 

“Yes,” I responded, unconsciously running my hands through my hair.

 

He smiled. “Your strength is amazing; your fighting skills are also quite good for someone your age. How did you learn to fight?”

 

I looked down, not knowing how to answer him. “I taught myself,” I finally managed to blurt out, hoping that my answer would be passable.

 

It wasn't. Sensei stared at me intently before he spoke again. “It's easy to tell when you're lying. Your body language betrays you every time.”

 

“Frieza taught me, Sensei,” I said, looking into his eyes as I spoke with certainty.

 

His demeanor changed, his eyes turning to slits, making his gaze more intense. “Frieza? That monster taught you?” he asked, his hands clutching the handle of the sword more tightly. I noticed his actions, knowing that I had to tell him the truth in order to defuse the situation. So I told him everything. Told him about my creation, my intended purpose, and about my escape. I told him everything I knew about my life before coming to the temple, which wasn't much at all. After my explanation, he relaxed again, though he remained serious; at least he believed me.

 

“It explains why you wouldn't answer when I asked what your name was,” He said thoughtfully. “You don't have one, do you?”

 

I shook my head from side to side.

 

“We will have to rectify that, then,” he responded, studying me for a few minutes. After doing so, he spoke again, proclaiming, “Your name shall be Isamu. It means `courage' or `bravery'. Considering the story you just told me, I think the name is fitting.”

 

I smiled a little; I had a name. An actual name to call myself; I wouldn't have to think of myself as a subject or “kid” anymore. I'm not sure why, but the thought of being Isamu was appealing to me. My joy was tempered, however, as I studied Sensei's still serious face.

 

“You have been through so much in such a short time,” he began, his face changing from orange to dark blue as the flames died down. “Yet you don't have a history; you're a book with no pages: empty on the inside. And yet, you have so much to do now. With your abilities, you can do great things in this world. You have a chance to change your fate; despite the cruelty of the one who created you, you can use your life for good. Not many people have that chance.”

 

I stood in silence, listening to his words wash over me.

 

“Your powers are great, but you will need to learn to control them so you don't run the risk of putting someone else in danger. The other students are strong in their own right, but you are different; because of that, you will need a lot more work and practice in controlling your powers. From now on, every night, you and I will work on learning to keep your ki under control. Is that understood?”

 

“Yes, Sensei.”

 

“Good, Isamu,” he said, turning around as if to leave. I took a step towards him, intending to ask some questions of my own.

 

“Sensei,” I called out, stopping him in his tracks. “Your reaction to Frieza….why'd you get so angry? Why is he a monster?” I asked, not knowing what or how Sensei would answer.

 

The wind blew, kicking up a few leaves and blowing them past my face; one particularly strong gust put out the dying fire, leaving only the smell of burning wood. Sensei's expression grew sullen as he slowly opened his mouth to speak.

 

“Frieza is a tyrant; he and his forces have destroyed countless lives and planets in his desire to rule the universe. Life means nothing to him….or anyone else that serves for him. He is a bloodthirsty abomination who revels in death, chaos, and sorrow.” He paused for a second, his face hardened as the wind whipped in his face, blowing his hair to the side. After gathering himself again, he continued his tirade. “He and his forces came here once; a few of the villagers had seen the ships landing just outside the gates and came back screaming in fear, alerting everyone to what was happening. Soon, some of Frieza's guards stormed the gates, knocking them down and terrorizing the townspeople. A few of the villagers tried to fight back, but they didn't succeed; they met their deaths as the guards tortured and killed them.”

 

I looked at him intently, listening to his tale. “What about you?” I finally managed to ask.

 

He looked down at the ground for a minute. “I was young when it happened, so I hid in my home and looked out of the window while everything was going on. I saw the fires burning throughout the village, the guards shouting and screaming in joy. After they were finished, there was next to no one in the village left; as soon as they'd come, the guards left the village. Evidently, they decided to terrorize the village because they could; they spotted it while flying over the planet and decided that it'd be a nice way to pass time.”

 

He lifted his eyes, finishing his recollection. “There were three survivors after everything was said and done; I'm the only one that was here when Frieza's men came. Everyone else moved here later. For a long time—at least a year—I was the only person who lived in this village. I rebuilt every house myself in homage of every person and family who died that night. When I was older, I built the temple so that this village would never be so helpless again. I dedicated myself to becoming stronger so that I could defend the village if another danger were to arise.”

 

I nodded in understanding; I didn't know how else to react to his story. It was overwhelming at first listen and would take a long time for me to fully digest everything he'd said.

 

He looked at me thoughtfully, shaking his head. “It's ok, Isamu. I didn't expect you to respond.”

 

“How'd you-,”

 

“Your body language, my child,” he responded, smiling again. He moved towards me, his eyes meeting mine. “It is my responsibility to see to it that you use your gifts for good. Your strength can do great things, and they will so long as you have my guidance.”

 

“But how do you know so much about how to control my ki,” I asked curiously.

 

“Because,” he began, spreading his feet, “Me and you are alike in more ways than you know.” And with that, he began concentrating, his fists clenched tightly and his eyes closed. In a few seconds, a strange white aura surrounded him and began to expand outward. The Sensei grunted as the sphere became larger, wind blowing wildly around the both of us. The sphere buffeted him, pushing me backwards and nearly making me fall to the ground. I looked at him, his face serious as he began walking to me.

 

“After many years of training, I learned to manifest my ki externally. You will learn to do so in time, though you'll do so much faster than I did.” The sphere of ki slowly began to vanish, growing smaller in size until it became the size of a small dot. The Sensei held it in his hand briefly before closing his fist around it. “Tomorrow,” he said, “will be the start of your true training.”