The people of Earth continued to venture out of their extradimensional shelters through Temple doors, eager and nervous to see just how free they were from the awesome might of M-2. Many from the Crown Realm decided to enter the valley behind the Silico royal castle, wanting to see the discarded bodies of the army as proof of this end to terror, while many others went back to their homes, or the remains of such. Despite everything that happened, there was a palpable sense of relief in this moment.
Svenex held her broken arm limp against her side as she surveyed the landscape. She felt satisfied in having repelled this enemy, and yet her heart was more restless than before the battle began. She looked over the incoming crowds and the apocalyptic ruins of the valley, hope and fear in one tableau. The invaders were no more, but ultimately, she knew this was a loss. A majority of the Earth’s population was slaughtered, and all its cities were flattened. There was no happiness to be found in this meager recovery. Even the warm feelings the survivors had about the initial defeat of M-2 would soon give way to intense grief over the incalculable losses. Svenex felt silly, feeling guilt over the decision she knew lay before her.
Turning around, she found her friends huddled together. Torta and Gaita were chatting with Dragon, the Grand Elder had come to Regal’s side, Legging and Puttee discussed recent events with Tarsa, and Jockey sat on a rock, snuggled with Clementine, not yet ready to lose contact with her internally harbored fugitive. Svenex felt partly guilty for having kept such a secret from all of those she felt closest to, and hoped that they would forgive her. Her eyes wandered across the crowd until she found the man in the denim jacket. He stood with his father, a large, round man with a long beard. She certainly didn’t feel guilty for their sakes, though she did for the others. But this moment called for any miracle possible.
Svenex stood and climbed atop a mound of scrapped Machine Mutant soldiers. She took a deep breath to yell out over the crowd. “Hey, Elder! Listen to me!”
The crowd turned to Svenex. The Grand Elder rose halfway from her seat at the mention. She was interrupted as the bearded man stepped forward. His eyes locked with Svenex’s.
“I know you and I have many disagreements over tradition and the sanctity of our secrecy!” Svenex continued. The man in the denim jacket scowled at her, shaking his head. “You know my work, my parents’ work! I don’t care about tradition that would doom so many to death and despair! I’ve stayed silent out of respect for the rest of this tribe, but this is no time for silence! I may be the least liked leader of humanity, but I am still one of us! I demand the old rites! That silly, ceremonial tournament you’re planning? I want the real prize! I challenge you!”
The crowd murmured. Torta was confused. “Svenex, what are you—?”
Svenex ripped off her broken arm at the shoulder, much to the shock of the crowd. The man in the denim jacket stepped forward, hoping to intervene, but Svenex had already regenerated a new arm. To the continued surprise of everyone witnessing, Svenex shifted her skin to reveal her true form. She stood with green skin, a paler color over her face, and two antennae hanging under her hair. “I demand the Dragon Balls! Your wish against mine!”
The man in the denim jacket, his father, and a few other survivors in the crowd shifted their skin in response, revealing a similar appearance. The Grand Elder was dumbfounded. “The Earth Namekians…” she muttered.
Svenex turned to Torta, her oldest friend. “I’m sorry,” she said, tears in her eyes. “It wasn’t my secret to tell.”
“You fool!” yelled the man in the denim jacket. “How could you betray us all?!”
“I accept your challenge,” said the bearded man, Elder of the Earth Namekians. “As one who left the village, this challenge is a long time coming. I will prepare the Dragon Balls for your contest. I take it your wish is to revive those killed in this invasion?”
“Of course! What else would I do this for?”
“Then it is time for us to take their place,” the Elder said. “Humanity will survive, and we will thrive. Rejoice, my children! Now is the dawn of our new home! The home of all Namekian outcasts! Let’s make the most of this tragic reveal! You, outsider, and your team have three days to prepare. Let’s go, son.” The Elder walked away, and soon his son followed. As he left, the son shot a venomous glare at the Grand Elder.
The other Earth Namekians in the crowd looked to Svenex with fear and disgust. They were joined by the shocked humans, with no context for understanding this turn of events. Some turned to others in the crowd, wondering if they, too, were going to shift their shape.
Svenex took one last look at her friends, wiping a tear from her eyes. Torta took a few steps forward. “Svenex, wait—!” he called out, just as she took flight away from the valley. “Wait…”
“She was one of them the whole time…?” Gaita wondered, in shock.
“They choose the form of their children,” Puttee muttered. “They chose to hide in plain sight.”
Svenex landed in the adjoining yard between Torta and Puttee’s homes, which had sustained comparatively minor damage. She fell to her knees and felt herself shiver, spasming violently at times, from her anxiety. There was no un-flipping this switch. Curling up and holding her legs into her chest, Svenex rocked back and forth, remembering that promise she made with Torta on their way into Kamiland. She couldn’t be alone in this world.
After a few moments, she managed to still her nerves. She preferred this test of friendship over being questioned by the citizens of Solstice outside the ruins of her home. To the north, she heard the engine of the vane approaching. She did not have words to justify this betrayal of her friends’ trust. Seeing the craft descend, she wiped her face a few times and tried to compose herself. She nearly shifted her skin back to human-presenting, but then caught sight of her green hand. She remained as she was. Torta, Gaita, and Regal were the first to emerge, before the vane had fully landed, followed by Puttee, Legging, Dragon, and the Grand Elder. Tarsa led Jockey and Clementine out, keeping farther back. “Svenex!” Torta called out.
Svenex lifted her hand to wave, but it quickly fell. The group formed in front of her. “Hey, everyone,” Svenex said weakly. “Here I am.”
The Grand Elder stared at her with wonder. “This is where you were…” she said.
“What’s going on?” Gaita asked.
Regal opened her mouth, but had no remarks.
“I’m so, so sorry for lying to you all…”
“We get the basics,” said Puttee. “We were talking as we flew over. It’s your whole tribe, not just your secret. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Svenex was struck by a deep sense of relief at those words.
“We know it’s still you,” said Torta. He put a hand on her shoulder. “If this is who you’ve always been, then don’t worry about us not liking you.”
Svenex felt tears of joy forming in her eyes. “Thanks. I…thank you for saying that.”
“Can you please tell us your story?” Regal finally asked.
Svenex wiped her eyes. “Yes, it’s time you all knew. Like Poboy discovered in the records, there was a First Demon among the Namekians of Earth. It’s said she was born with great might and a cruel disposition. We fought hard against her, but she was overwhelming. At the time, the Kami didn’t like us, and found the First Demon and her growing number of followers, Namekian and human alike, to be convenient tools. The Kami turned our human allies against us, and eventually enacted a plan to eradicate us all, the First Demon and my tribe alike. It was the final straw in a long series of crimes against us by the Kami, and led to the Grand Elder’s great crime against us. Due to the followers the First Demon amassed, we were considered tainted by her ideology. Instead of searching for survivors, the Grand Elder of that time was thankful there appeared to be none.
“One of us did survive, though. Having been abandoned by her people and stranded on a hostile world, she began birthing children suited to life in disguise.” Svenex shifted her skin back to human-presenting for a moment, before returning to her natural form. “We have skin like cuttlefish, and we were born able to participate in human customs like gender and romance. Our goal was to hide in plain sight, never to reveal ourselves again, and never to share our gifts with the world.
“My parents didn’t believe in that secrecy and suspicion. They left the village behind to forge a new path in human society. They were convinced that the institutions and culture had all changed dramatically since those crimes were committed; I mean, humanity doesn’t even know about us. Since we’re the ones who know the truth, we’re the only ones who can take that first step towards a new future. But my parents never had enough allies to make their dream a reality.”
“You said there were Dragon Balls?” Gaita asked. “What was that about wishing against each other?”
“Oh, yeah. This is going to be harder than a normal ball hunt. The Earth Dragon Balls require a competition. Two groups, competing wishes, competing ideals. We couldn’t fight each other to get the same wish of reviving the dead, because there’s nothing at stake and no real battle. That’s why I challenged the Elder. You heard his wish.”
“Does he mean to kill off humanity?” asked Regal.
“No, nothing that dark. He simply wants the Earth Namekians to take control of the planet. He won’t use the wish for world domination, though, with the population so devastated. His wish will be to ensure that Earth Namekians grow in number faster than humanity.”
“Why would he wish for such a thing?” asked the Grand Elder.
“He’s as tired of the secrecy as I am,” Svenex looked down, “but he also wants absolute security for Earth Namekians. He believes the only way to ensure that is to make us the majority, the dominant cultural group, and to control this world as a haven for all other Namekian outcasts. The Elder, like all the others before him, was raised with the notion that the Kami would put us down if we ever came forward. It’s what we were all told growing up, because the Kami is the one person who would know about us and one had tried to eradicate us before. Even my idealistic parents still had reservations about the Kami, the stories are so ingrained in us. I was hesitant myself about meeting Okome, and only went to make sure I could set you all straight if he turned out to be a villain.”
“Wait, the tournament!” Dragon exclaimed. “Chef was training me for a tournament! Is that what this’s been about?”
“Yeah, Yogin said that, too,” Tarsa said.
“The Masters Tournament,” Svenex sighed. “Held every so many years. I only learned about the details of this recently, since I was born outside the village. A long time ago, when there was peace between us and humanity, human martial arts masters were astounded by the abilities of our enchanted weapons. They wanted some way of competing, so they did what they did best and began innovating. Soon, a few masters of particular note became famous, masters of the elements, body control, and psychic powers. They and others would try their hand at defeating the Weapons Master, the most skilled Earth Namekian warrior, trained in all forms of armed combat and the magical abilities of their blades. They all traded notes and got along great. Even helped make the pocket spaces after they collaborated on a space warping technique.
“But the First Demon rose up, the Kami turned the masters against us, and now these ‘vassals of the Kami,’ as my tribe calls them, are left in a precarious position. The Elder could have them all hunted down and killed, if only he had all the weapons at his disposal. To keep the peace, to show that they want to keep their arts alive without threatening the Earth Namekians, the masters of these arcane arts take part in a ceremonial tournament. In the past, when the fights were friendly, the Dragon Balls were offered as a prize, though wishes were only granted twice. This is the third time they’re going to be used.”
“This is a lot to process…” Torta muttered.
“Look, I’m sorry for throwing this at you all,” said Svenex. “I hoped I could help you uncover the truth naturally, but this invasion…I have to make things right! So please, Dragon, Tarsa. You have to win this for me.”
“Of course,” said Dragon. “Anything for my second home. I don’t want a dragon god to force humanity into submission. That’s not peace or security for anyone.”
“No one’s getting the best of me,” said Tarsa.
“Can anyone join?” asked Regal. “Or do we have to rely on whoever the mind master turns out to be?”
“I…I think you can join, if you want to,” said Svenex. “I appreciate your help.”
“I won’t let them lose sight of our heritage this way,” Regal said, turning away to ponder her thoughts.
“I’ll join in, too!” said Gaita. “I hope we can have peace in the end, but I can’t let them do this in the meantime!”
“I’ll gladly help in this battle,” said Jockey. “Anything to make up for bringing this death to the Earth in the first place.”
Puttee looked to Torta. “You gonna step up, too?” she asked.
Torta came to, his face blank. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll help out. Sorry, I need a second to catch up with all this. All I can really say right now is, thanks, Svenex. You took a huge leap for everyone. I know you’re in a tough spot, so just let me know how I can help.”
Svenex felt her façade crumbling. She hugged Torta dearly. “Thanks! I really need a friend right now.” Torta put his arms around her in turn. Puttee, Gaita, Regal, Legging, and the Grand Elder joined in, as well.
Far away, the Elder and his son were leading the Earth Namekians camped out in the Crown Realm to their next destination. The mood was stressful. Among the Namekians, there were those most feeling hurt by Svenex’s betrayal. Others were fearful of the reaction humanity had to their disguises. The son was filled with rage at the unfairness of the situation and the audacity of the assaults his people surely would face. The Elder was anxious about the next move the Kami would make.
A voice came to the group from within their minds. “Greetings, Earth Namekians,” said the voice. “I am Kami Okome, guardian deity of this world. To your left, a Temple door connecting our locations.” The Elder turned to his left, seeing an archway in the air. “In the off chance you wanted to step inside my Temple, I offer you the choice. Do you come to me, or do I come to you?”
“Get out here and show yourself,” the Elder ordered. He clenched his fist tight as his people looked on with bated breath.
Okome stepped through the door, his robes trailing in the dirt. “As you wish, Elder. What may I call you?”
“Elder Patis,” he said. “What is this about? You here to steal from us, or kill us before we win this tournament?”
“No, no,” said Okome, bowing his head. “I want to start by apologizing for what my predecessors did to you. For whatever my word means to you, I feel badly for what your people have gone through, and I wish to make amends for anything within my power.”
“You can’t give us back those years! Those dead!”
“I realize that, but I can give you back your weapons.” Elder Patis was puzzled, as was his son.
Okome motioned behind himself, and soon Poboy emerged, pulling a cart loaded with ancient Earth Namekian weapons from the artifact hall. “Are you sure this is what you want?” Poboy asked, still uncertain of his master’s motives.
“I am,” Okome said. “This is a first gesture, a simple return of stolen cultural assets. I hope this is pleasing to you.”
Elder Patis was taken aback. He hadn’t expected such open acknowledgement of past sins, or the return of weapons he could use to ensure victory in the upcoming battle. “It does please me to see these blades returned,” he said. Poboy brought out a second cart, containing the remainder of the weapons Okome offered. Patis, his son, and the other Earth Namekians present looked through and upon these weapons with awe and reverence. Patis paused. “I see there’s still one more artifact you haven’t returned to me.”
“You know as well as I do that that particular item is gone forever,” Okome said coolly. Poboy perked his ears. “Wars of the past destroyed that artifact. I wish I could uncover its remains, so that there would be one less danger in the world.”
Elder Patis squinted. “I don’t trust you, liar,” said the son. “You’re holding onto it, so that we can’t ever threaten you.”
“I assure you that’s not the case, young…”
“…Bake.”
“Young Bake. As this is our first meeting, I know I have a lot of work to do in gaining your trust. I want you all to know that I am not a follower of the Kamis of the past. My master walked a different path, as do I. In time, I hope we can come together and live peacefully.”
“Are you truly sure about this?” Poboy asked again. “If they win this contest, then humanity will be left behind as this tribe expands across the globe.”
Okome turned to Poboy, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve told you before, we are guardians of the planet. I helped the citizens of Earth in this invasion for fear of what the Machine Mutants would do to alter and destroy the ecosystems of the world, as outsiders. In the end, it is not our place to take sides between the Earth’s peoples. We watch over this world and ensure its survival until the judgment day. If it becomes a world for Earth Namekians, then so be it.” Okome turned and left to the Temple. After a moment, Poboy bowed and did the same.
Bake shook his head. “I don’t trust him, father! No one trust him! He must be plotting something. We need to test these weapons as soon as we can! They could be tampered with!”
“I agree with you, my son,” said Patis. “He may be of a different nature than past Kamis, but he is still lying. He holds more than he says. But for now, everyone, let’s get back home. We need to get Bake ready for the upcoming battle!” The crowd cheered. “We can deal with that worm when the time comes.”
Three days passed. Torta, Regal, Gaita, Dragon, Tarsa, and Jockey prepared for the upcoming battle, mostly by resting up. They all had notable injuries from the battle with M-2, which prevented any further training they could have wanted. The whole group camped out at Torta and Puttee’s homes during that time. Gaita would fly around the islands, taking in the extent of the damage. Even in that remote area, the invading armies made sure to hit every inhabited area they spotted. Svenex listened in where she could to get reports about the state of the world, but her access was limited. Unsurprisingly, she was stripped of her status in the wake of the invasion and her revelation. Dragon had part of the Saiyan fleet staying behind with him, floating off shore. Velvet and a few of the others wanted to attend with Dragon, but he insisted on going alone, with no appearance of an “invading army.” Chef and Yogin made themselves comfortable, chatting like war buddies who knew they were going to the slaughter. Torta inquired about the Mind Master. Chef said that she, Hypno, was going to arrive on her own on the day.
Finally, the day arrived. Svenex washed her face, pausing as she felt her hands brush against her antennae, a sensation she was still getting used to. She could feel in her bones that this moment was what her life had been leading towards. With a sigh, she left Torta’s guest room to wake everyone up. Torta was already dressed and waiting in the living room. “Big day, huh?” he asked.
Svenex stared a moment. “Yes.” She went outside without another word and found the whole gang assembled around the vane. Svenex took a deep breath, feeling the confidence being placed in her decision. “Let’s go!”
The group got settled into their cramped vehicle and flew off to where Svenex led them. The Earth Namekian village was located in a steppe in the northern part of Silico. To prevent Kamis from seeing or accessing the village, their homes were equipped with the sorts of runes that Poboy had uncovered for use hiding their meetings from Okome. With these sigils in place, the village was easy for any Kami to overlook with the far-seeing arts, Temple doors could not open within village grounds, and birthing rooms were completely hidden to prevent the secret of their asexual reproduction from being leaked.
After two hours of flight, the group landed on the outskirts of the village. Upon first sight, there was nothing particularly noteworthy about the place. It was a simple farming village, old and with great character; some buildings still had thatch rooves, while others had been updated to tin or tile. Regal noted the mystic runes carved under the eaves. On this day, like on no other before in its history, the village was filled with hundreds of out Earth Namekians, their green skin and pale faces visible for the world to see. The eyes of all the villagers looked on at the incoming challengers as bloodthirsty invaders. Special scorn was set aside for Svenex, who wilted under the immense pressure.
Behind them, another group landed. Turning upon the startled gasps of the crowd, Torta saw Okome, Poboy, and Joma arriving on a flying carpet. Some of the villagers began hurling insults their way. Okome kept his eyes trained on Svenex. “I had to witness this personally,” he told her. “I could not have found this place on my own, so I hope you don’t mind my following you.”
“You can stop acting humble, you secretive tool,” Svenex said. She turned away, pressing on to the village center. Torta and Puttee exchanged looks before continuing, as well. Okome sighed and made his way, the rest of the group following suit.
In the village center, there stood a stage, built from wood and stone. Based on the craftsmanship, it had been built in the preceding three days, though with great care and skill. Bake stood in the center of that stage, wearing traditional combat clothing. His torso was uncovered and painted with red and black, his arms adorned with colorful, woven bands. His legs were covered in a loose skirt of leather strips, decorated with similar markings. The most notable, and seemingly out of place, item was a large belt, not unlike one worn for a wrestling championship, but far older. He kept his eyes down at the arena floor, chanting under his breath. Patis stood at the front, awaiting the challengers. He, too, was dressed in a formal robe, his beard pouring over a decorative scarf covering his neck. “The time has come!” he greeted them. “Here and now, we will decide the fate of the world! Mark this in your memories, humans, for today this world belongs to us!”
“We will have peace!” Svenex declared. She glared at Patis, locking eyes. “Present the Dragon Balls!”
Patis waved his hand. A pair of attendants emerged from a nearby hut carrying a folded blanket. They set this blanket down at the edge of the stage and unfolded it, revealing a group of seven orbs, each a swirl of blue, green, and white, with red stars alight in the center. “It is time to make our declarations official,” Patis said. “With this battle, I fight for Earth Namekians to grow and outnumber humanity as the planet recovers from this war!”
“With this battle,” Svenex said, “I fight for the Earth to be restored to its previous state so that we may move forward together!”
Upon hearing these words, the Earth Dragon Balls began to glow. Though the sky remained unaltered, light erupted from the balls, issued in a tower that quickly coiled down and around the arena. Soon enough, a solid form appeared, with four long legs, spikes along the back, and bull horns over a narrow snout. Unlike other, floating dragons, this one stood upon its long legs, leaving no footprints in the dirt. “I have seen the conflict in your hearts, mortals,” the dragon said, booming over the hushed crowd. “I stand witness, and will grant the desire proven superior by this tournament.” The dragon stepped over the barrier at the edge of the arena square and sat, pulling its infinitely coiling tail over to its side. The attendants who brought out the balls lifted the blanket once more and carried the balls over to the dragon. They bowed before leaving.
“That dragon is so cool…” Torta whispered.
“The die is cast,” Patis said. “Tell me, who are the challengers?”
“I, Dragon, am fighting for the Element Master,” the Saiyan President said calmly. Chef bowed behind him.
“Tarsa here,” they said tersely. “I’m the new Body Master, here to put you in your place.” Yogin bowed at their side.
A woman came running in, panting and exhausted. She was old, with deep wrinkles around her wise eyes. “I, Hypno the Mind Master, join this challenge for humanity,” she said. She caught sight of the dragon and marveled as she got in line.
“I am Regal, attendant to the Grand Elder of Namek,” she said. “I fight to restore the honor of my people, and as a Spirit Master.”
“Oh, I’m Torta,” he said. “I guess you could say I’m a Space Master?”
“I’m Gaita the Android,” she said. “Master of myself and champion of humanity.”
“Jockey,” she said simply. “Master of many forms.”
Svenex mustered her courage, seeing her friends line up for her. “That’s our lineup against your Weapons Master—”
“WAIT!” Bake yelled out. Everyone turned to attention. “Gaita and Jockey are disqualified.”
“What?!” Gaita asked, indignant. “Who are you to decide who’s allowed to fight for this planet?”
“You think I don’t know who you are?” Bake asked, looking up to meet her eyes. “You’re some alchemation of science, never tiring. You’ll be placed last in the lineup, after I’m tired out, ready to win a battle of attrition. I’m the only one on the side of this village, all they’ll need. But there’s no honor in your participation here. It’s tantamount to cheating!” Gaita winced. “And you!” Bake pointed to Jockey. “You’re not of this world, you’re not a master I recognize by art, and you have no stake in this conflict beyond ego. You have no right to fight for the Earth!”
Gaita stepped forward, a defensive look on her face. “You can’t—”
Jockey held up her hand. “It’s ok,” she said. “He’s right about me, and I understand his reasoning for you. He’s but one person, ready to face down the forces that just defeated the unbeatable M-2 army. He’s within his rights to stipulate at least one reasonable handicap. For as unfair as this is to you, I also know you agree, deep down.” Gaita averted her eyes. “Besides, have faith in our four friends and the Mind Master. Their strength will win the day. Don’t we have enough of an advantage?”
Gaita nodded, feeling cheated herself. Despite her progress, she could not prove herself a warrior in this most meaningful battle.
“I’m sorry, Gaita,” said Svenex, turning briefly to the Android. “We agree to those terms. The battle can commence as soon as you’re ready.”
“I have been ready since before you arrived,” said Bake. “Send someone in already.”
“I’m going first!” Tarsa declared. “No need for anyone else to waste their time. I’ll get this in one!” They confidently strutted into the arena and stood toe to toe with Bake, looking up at his eyes from abdomen level. “Bring it, punk!”
“Sherbet Staff,” Bake said. One of the attendants who had brought out the Dragon Balls came out again, holding a long bo staff, a dark mahogany, decorated with gold rings. “I’ll learn you something here today: No matter what we face, my people have the tools to overcome anything.”
“Ready?” Patis called out. “Begin!”
Tarsa immediately attacked, kicking at Bake’s torso. He dodged back effortlessly and swung back with his staff. Tarsa whipped their head around unnaturally, as if their shoulder and neck were made of water, to avoid the strike. They charged back in, and the two exchanged blows. After a moment, Bake knocked Tarsa away, and Tarsa pushed him back with a kiai while retreating. “You’re not half-bad there, blade nerd,” Tarsa spat.
“I was told I was fighting a Body Master,” Bake remarked. He took his stance, holding his staff in one hand.
“If he’s this strong, why have we not seen him before?” asked Regal. Torta nodded in agreement.
Grunting, Tarsa flew back in and threw a punch. Just before it would land, they bent their fist upwards so that it flew into Bake’s face. This distracted him long enough for their front leg to form a deep hook behind his legs, which they used to trip Bake straight to the ground. Continuing with the motion, Tarsa let their leg go fluid and threw it upwards, ready for a whipping axe kick.
Before they could throw their kick down, Bake thrust out with his staff, jabbing Tarsa in the stomach. At once, Tarsa felt completely stiff. Terrified, they tried to lower their leg or kick back and away from Bake, but their body would not respond. They could not even move their eyes to study what was happening. Bake swiftly used the staff to prop himself up once more and kick Tarsa across the head, knocking them into the ground. He then dropped a knee into their stomach and punched them in the face several times.
“What just happened?!” asked Puttee. “I know my test tube bestie was about to score big there!”
“That’s the Sherbet Staff’s power,” said Okome. The audience turned to him. “It allows you to freeze your opponent in their tracks for a second or two. A common tool against Body Masters.”
Yogin shook their head. “I told them to keep their guard up while attacking.”
Tarsa felt their body release and immediately slid out from under Bake. They kicked him in the back to knock him down. “What was that, you tricky coward?!”
“It’s your art against my weapons,” said Bake. “You agreed to this tournament like everyone else.” He stood and took his stance again. “Don’t tell me you’re here just to beat me and my people down, no other thought in your head? You savage.”
Tarsa growled. “I’m not done yet!” They charged in again, this time taking care to avoid the staff. With their incredible freedom of movement, Tarsa was able to maintain an advantage in the exchange, and got in many hits against Bake. The young Earth Namekian winced, but did not falter. Despite taking these attacks, he remained in place, not budging an inch.
The Bio-Android got annoyed with their immoveable enemy. After several strikes to the face and knocking the staff arm away, Tarsa began to shift their body beneath Bake’s by compressing it into a ribbon. Once they could capture Bake from both sides, he’d have no escape. Seeing this, Bake stretched out his own arm, much like the Demon Clan would, and used the extra room at close quarters to bring the staff’s point down on Tarsa’s head. Frozen once more, Tarsa panicked. Bake kneed them in the stomach and punched them several times across the head and body. Hooking under their arms with the Sherbet Staff, Bake threw Tarsa out of the arena.
“Win by ring out!” Patis declared. “The first match goes to the Weapons Master of the Earth Namekians!” The village cheered for Bake. Puttee was stunned.
Tarsa relaxed on the ground, their body snapping back to shape like a rubber band. They were shocked beyond belief at such an easy loss. Shooting back to their feet, they ran back on the stage. “How can you—!?” they started, their voice catching in their throat. “That wasn’t—! If you’re this strong, then why did you stay out of the fight with M-2, you wimp!?”
“I’m not this strong,” Bake said. He patted his belt. “My people can overcome any threat, but we still don’t have an easy shortcut to strength. With this Sundae Belt, I spent the past three days multiplying my power for this battle. We didn’t have this out, or days to prepare, when M-2 attacked. Just accept your defeat, Body Master. You’re too immature, too impatient, to triumph here. Your naked aggression is the enemy I’ve been prepared for my whole life.”
Cursing, Tarsa tuned and left the arena. They sat at the edge of the stage and pouted. Yogin shook their head. Gaita knelt down and put an arm around them. “You did your best,” she said.
Tarsa scowled at their hands. “It’s still not good enough. It has to be good enough!”
“This is going to be a tougher fight than we thought,” said Dragon. “I expected a reason for their confidence, but these weapons are going to be something else.”
“Indeed,” said Hypno, dusting off her dress. “I just hope these old bones don’t give out during the fight.”
Clementine hesitated, but still called out. “Wait, if you please!” Hypno stopped and turned to Clementine. They were very nervous. “I think I can be of assistance.”
“What’s going on?” Jockey asked. Svenex turned between them and Bake, shrugging her shoulders.
Hypno studied the Neo-Machine Mutant. “I accept,” she said. “I know I’d lose at this age, with no apprentice. You may have a shot, studying as you have been.”
Clementine was taken aback. “You…I guess you are a Mind Master. Are you sure, though?”
“I trust you.” Hypno smiled.
Clementine demurred. “Ok, then, if you insist.”
“Wait, you don’t mean…?” Jockey asked.
“Yes, I do,” said Clementine. Their body turned to liquid and flowed through Hypno’s ear. A moment later, they flowed out the other ear, reforming on their feet. “I’m so sorry for the discomfort!”
“It was fine!” said Hypno. “What an intriguing experience! So, you ready?”
“I am…” Clementine covered their face in embarrassment. “I’m in way over my head…”
“Just get up there!” Svenex yelled. “We have to keep the fight going!”
Clementine trudged up to the arena floor. Torta was still processing what happened, and Regal wondered what their chances could be. “I believe in you!” Jockey called out. Clementine stopped before the steps and lifted their head. With a few heavy steps, they stood on the arena grounds facing Bake.
“I hope you don’t mind the changeup…” Clementine mumbled. “I, Clementine of Plant, am now fighting for the Mind Master, Hypno.”
Bake stared at them intensely. “I accept your challenge. Iscake Mask.” The attendant emerged and traded weapons, handing Bake a wooden mask with exaggerated features and a decorative feather. He retrieved it and put it on, never breaking eye contact with Clementine.
As the two stared at each other, Patis raised his hand. “Begin!” There was no movement for a few seconds, as the two combatants studied each other. Clementine raised their hand and aimed their palm at Bake. He did not take the bait. Sighing, Clementine charged in for a punch. Bake easily blocked, and the two had an exchange, one where Clementine was clearly losing ground. As Bake was about to grab Clementine for a throw, they glared at the Weapons Master, freezing him in place. They then attacked with a few kicks of their own, knocking Bake back. Just as they were moving in for a follow-up, Bake grunted and exerted himself, breaking free from the hold in time to block.
“I didn’t know Clementine could fight,” said Torta. “Or that they could freeze people like Bake did with the staff.”
“That’s my power,” said Hypno. “Telekinesis and other mental powers are hard to cultivate and properly use for combat, and they are my own forte.”
“If they’re your moves, then how…?”
“Clementine has a photographic memory, of sorts,” said Jockey. “If they occupy a person’s mind, they can learn every skill that person knows. Before the fight, they copied the Mind Master’s entire psychic arsenal.”
Torta was taken aback. “That’s some skill!”
“But it doesn’t equate to battle prowess,” Regal noted. As the fight continued, Clementine fought with apparent skill, such that would indicate years of mastery, and yet moved timidly. Torta figured this was their first ever fight, even if they had been studying Jockey’s fighting style all this time, as their movements indicated. Combined with the seeming gap between their raw power and Bake’s, the fight was not looking promising for Clementine.
The newly appointed Mind Master disciple kept attacking as best they could, using telekinetic blasts to effectively extend their reach, to make up for their stature. Bake was not impressed, countering every attack with ease. Yet Clementine noted that he wasn’t going for the win at this point. They marshalled their courage and moved in with a telekinetic hold on Bake’s leg, hoping to drag him down at the edge of the arena. They felt their hold take effect and pulled hard. They charged in, ready to strike Bake on the ground. They were stopped by a strike to the back of their head. Turning, they saw Bake attacking from behind, and no one was in front of them anymore. Confused, Clementine tried grabbing Bake once more, but was kicked in the side.
“What is Clementine doing?” Gaita asked. “They keep attacking the air.”
“That’s the mask,” Hypno said. “Classic anti-Mind strategy, to use mental illusions to even the playing field.”
“That’s crazy!” Torta remarked.
“They know how to counter it, if they can find the mental strength,” said Hypno.
Clementine was tricked into several more attacks on the air by Bake’s mask and felt frustrated. They knew there was a trick to following these illusions. While blocking a barrage from Bake, they focused their mind, feeling out towards Bake’s. They could feel his presence, his will, and could start seeing the pathway of his strikes. They began blocking more accurately, and even pushed back against Bake for a couple steps. They felt him dodge to the side, even as their eyes saw him continuing his attack as before. Clementine felt more confident they’d be able to pull through with this increased awareness.
As they turned to attack the real Bake, they were instead confronted by Admiral Remmha, glaring down at them. “You traitor!” he yelled. Clementine was shocked and confused, freezing up for a moment. Before they could remind themself that Remmha couldn’t be there, Bake had already kicked them out of the arena and onto the grass. They looked up, and Remmha disappeared, replaced by Bake. “You’re too naïve, too green for this battle. You cannot pay your debts in this ring.” The challengers were stunned.
“Second win, by ring out!” Patis declared. “This match goes to the Earth Namekians!” The villagers cheered.
Jockey rushed to Clementine’s side. “You did your best,” Jockey said. “I’m glad that you tried, for me.”
“I also did it for the Earth…” Clementine said. “These people died for me, and this time, they don’t have to…Didn’t have to.”
“That’s two losses for you, Svenex!” Patis called out. “It seems your treachery will not be rewarded!”
Svenex mumbled in anger. Dragon patted her on the back. “Hey, I got this,” he said. “No offense to the other two, but me and my skills are a cut above. I think I can handle this guy.”
She sighed. “Just get in there.”
Dragon confidently walked onto the arena floor. Bake watched his stride and narrowed his glare. “Delaska Dart,” he requested. An attendant emerged and handed Bake a rope dart, with a red and gold braided cord and a silver dart. With no delay, Bake took his stance, as did Dragon.
“Begin!” Patis called out.
At once, Dragon and Bake charged at each other and traded blows. Torta could tell Dragon was going hard right out of the gate, and Bake handled it with no concern. Spinning around, Dragon released a stream of fire from his fist, to douse Bake’s face. With a quick whip of his dart, Bake created a channel of cold air to make a temporary barrier to the fire. He then dodged around and slung his dart at Dragon’s head. Dragon narrowly dodged with a chi-covered fist. Bake jumped back and threw out the dart several more times to keep Dragon at bay. The Saiyan President charged up a lightning blast, but upon firing, Bake used his dart to make a channel of ionized air, which directed the lightning away. Dragon continued to strike with wind and ice, but each were deflected by changes to the air and atmosphere around Bake. Dragon chuckled. “You’re good!” Bake snorted.
“Ooh, is that dart controlling the weather?” Puttee asked, not bothering to hide how impressed she was by the weapons.
“Indeed, lass,” said Chef. “The Delaska Dart is the premiere tool against Element Masters, capable of manipulating the temperature and other properties of the air to control the flow of the elements. It’s not foolproof, but it’s highly effective, in the right hands.”
Bake kept up his attack, making full use of the range and mobility of the rope dart to keep Dragon back. Dragon switched tactics, throwing blasts of water and earth at Bake. Unable to simply channel these elements around himself, Bake was forced to dodge and block these like any other strike. Dragon was able to close the distance some this way, but was not able to get within striking range. “Hey, have you ever talked to the people of Earth?” Dragon asked. “They took me and my people in when we needed it. This isn’t the same planet it was all those years ago!”
“I recall the human government trying to expel you,” said Bake. “They only relented when you defeated Marianas and his army. Imagine what would have happened if there wasn’t a convenient mutual enemy to soften up your image to the masses. I expect it would have been the same as their response to the mermaids.”
Dragon managed to slip past the dart and punched Bake in the stomach, winding him. “You never know until you try! This isn’t justice. You won’t get that unless you work for it.”
Snarling, Bake kicked Dragon in the head, knocking him for a loop. He then spun around and back kicked Dragon in the stomach. He moved forward with his barrage. “Says the president of a planet best known for conquering worlds! You talk a big game, but can you be sure there are no loyalists to your dictator among your people?! Saiyans were the oppressors, so you don’t get to preach to me!”
Dragon was knocked to ground, just a few feet from the edge. “Oh, really? We’re talking oppression? I guess you don’t have the strength to lead the people against the losing cause of tyranny!” He threw a few water blasts to keep Bake occupied as he charged in for his next punch.
Bake caught Dragon’s fist. “And how many of my people do you suggest I sacrifice at the alter of my personal courage? I’m taking advantage of an opening, nothing more! It’s you people who think anything wicked of it!” Bake headbutted Dragon, and then laid into him with a full force attack. Dragon got his guard back up, but not before he was pushed right to the edge. As he was blocking Bake’s fists in his face, Dragon’s feet were tangled up with the rope. A single push, and Dragon was thrown off the arena. “Death is a part of life. Perhaps it is your cause that is wicked, to twist the order of nature because you failed to protect this world.”
“Right you are, my son!” Patis said. “Third win by ring out! Victory for the Earth Namekians!” The village once more erupted with cheers. “You are a fool as ever, Svenex! Not going to chime in about balance, Okome?”
Okome did not respond. Svenex cursed. Dragon losing was a bad omen for their continued chances.
Dragon got up and smiled at Bake. “Good fight.”
Torta approached him. “I can’t believe he got you!”
“Hey, it’s cool,” said Dragon. “I’ve spent my life training for war, not a tournament. He got me off guard, fair and square.”
“He was out of line, what he said to you,” said Gaita.
“True. His fears don’t seem well-founded to me, but they’re very real to him. I can’t blame him for it, in that sense. I only wish I could show him hope.”
“I’ll do what I can, then,” said Regal. Dragon nodded. Regal approached the stage calmly, her emotions conflicted. She felt there was something wrong with the approach the Earth Namekians were taking, but she couldn’t shake her sympathy for the wrongs committed by past Grand Elders. Either way, she knew there had to be a better path forward than imposing cultural dominance out of fear.
Bake studied Regal a moment. “A Spirit Master…Pocky Sticks.” The attendant emerged, trading out the Delaska Dart for a set of four sticks, wooden with brass heads. Holding two in each hand, Bake took his stance.
Regal took hers, as well. “Begin!” Patis declared. Regal rushed in and attacked. Bake blocked closely with his arms, his hands tightly gripping the sticks against the rocking of his body. Regal wondered how they would be used, given how poor his grip had to be on those sticks. She kept up the pressures as best she could, driving Bake backwards, determined not to use her Samael unless she were forced to.
Bake smiled. He threw two of his sticks into the air and then attacked with the other two. Regal blocked the strikes, and then felt two more blows come in from behind. The other sticks were floating in the air and moving on their own to attack Regal. She snarled, seeing what game Bake was playing. She stuck to her guns and kept up the battle as best she could, without deploying the Samael. She continued to be battered by the sticks on all sides, as well as Bake’s kicks. Bake laughed. “You’ll never get out of this doghouse standing still!” he declared. “I was told I’d be fighting a Spirit Master!”
With a grunt, Regal released her Samael behind Bake, switching places right away to strike him in the back. The two floating sticks followed her and intercepted her strikes, while Bake struck the air. The Samael punched through Bake’s stomach, sending waves of pain through his body. “You’ll never get past me, even if these sticks follow my form,” Regal said. “I will win this fight, and when I do, we can work to restore the honor of the Namekian people.”
Bake grunted, his sticks charging up with an aura of chi. “Pretty cocky for the bodyguard to a line of traitors,” he said. Bake turned to attack Regal, prompting Regal to trade places again. The floating sticks whipped around to follow her. As Regal avoided their attack and punched Bake in his ribs, Bake struck her Samael, the aura around the Pocky Sticks allowing for chi-to-chi contact. Regal felt the blow to her head and winced. “Don’t think your tricks can fool me! You talk of honor, and yet no Grand Elder, even yours, ever reached out to this world after the abandonment of the Earth. No one searched for us out of hope for our survival! Only upon the happenstance proof provided by a Dragon Ball.”
The Weapons Master continued to press his attack, following whichever form was in front of him while the floating sticks went after the other. Cornered by this unexpected counterattack, Regal became more cautious with her Samael attacks. No longer able to rely upon an opponent swinging through air, both her forms fought as if they were physical, and she stopped switching places with it. “Tell me,” Bake asked, “would you have ever looked for us, had you not found that Rainbow Dragon Ball? Would you have ever accepted your own friend, absent that marker of proof? Did you ever care about restoring Namekian honor for its own sake, or are you satisfied with being a good little butler and getting to fight on occasion?” At once, Bake struck Regal’s head, while the floating sticks jabbed the Samael in the stomach, doubling the shock value of these devastating blows. “I have no need for your platitudes!” With another barrage of blows from the Pocky Sticks, Bake got a ring out against both Regal and her Samael at once. Svenex’s team was stunned.
Patis laughed loudly. “The fourth win by ring out! Victory for the Earth Namekians!” The crowd roared in cheer for this shut out. “Down to your last now, Svenex! Today’s victory belongs to us! You might as well surrender now!”
Regal was dumbfounded. The Grand Elder rushed to her side. “Are you ok, Regal?” she asked.
Regal sat up and rubbed her head. “I am fine,” she said. “I never imagined losing this fight.”
“But you never imagined winning, either,” Bake shot out. “You’re too soft to carry out your own ideals.” Regal glared.
“Oh, man, what are we gonna do?!” Puttee asked.
Torta began to laugh, growing with intensity. Everyone turned to him. “Wow, this is a great tournament!” he declared. “You really have some great tricks up your sleeve, Bake!”
Bake scowled at Torta with intense animosity.
“What’s wrong with you?” asked Chef. “Can’t you see we’re losing, here? All those people will stay dead if you don’t win!”
“He gets it,” said Svenex. Somehow, seeing Torta laugh gave her confidence. “Just get up there and win this thing, Torta.”
“Sure thing,” he said, winking. He turned to Regal as he passed her by. “Hey, just so you know, I’m stealing that trick for the next time we fight.”
Regal glared. “Don’t talk to me until this is over.”
“Fine, fine,” said Torta. He rolled his neck as he stepped into the ring. There were a lot of big thoughts passing through his head. The importance of this battle, what it would mean for the world, was not lost on him. Yet he continued to smile as he stretched out before taking his stance. “Ready whenever you are!”
Bake stared daggers into the lax human in front of him. “Cake Slicer,” he requested. The attendant came out to make the last trade, taking the Pocky Sticks and replacing them with a broadsword. The blade was curved and thin, made from a flexible steel, a pair of triangles placed like a square forming the guard. Bake took his stance.
“Begin!” Patis declared.
Torta extended his hand, palm up, and beckoned Bake forward. “Come on, take the first attack for once!”
Bake growled. “Take this seriously!” He rushed forward and slashed his sword in front of Torta. A moment later, Torta felt himself pulled forward by some unknown force. He was met by Bake’s fist in his face, throwing him back once more.
“What was…oh!” Torta exclaimed while rubbing his cheek. “I actually know this one! Space cutting sword!”
“Silence!” Bake yelled. He slashed several more times, using the collapsing space to pull Torta back in and direct his movements, pulling him through a loop and striking him several times along the way. Indeed, Torta could tell Bake was putting more strength into these attacks than against the others, and they were incredibly powerful. “Do you not realize what’s at stake here, you imbecile!?”
Torta kicked Bake across the head and followed up with several gut shots, knocking him back. “I mean, generally? I’m not a smart person, at the end of the day. I don’t think you’re going about this the right way, but I also get your cause. I still think we’re good for wanting to revive the dead, too.” Bake leapt back, ready to slash with the Cake Slicer, so Torta jumped in to catch the blade and knee Bake in the stomach. “But at the end of the day? We chose to resolve this with a fight. And I love fighting! All that heady stuff can wait till later; all I have to do is fight my best.”
Bake knocked Torta back with a kick. “You have no idea what I’m fighting for!” He slashed again, and as Torta felt himself get pulled, he summoned an Onion Ring to bounce himself away. He then bounced off a second at his back to propel himself like a rocket into Bake’s stomach. Bake dodged, narrowly, and smashed Torta into the ground with the hilt. “Battle isn’t about fun and games! Lives are on the line! Our way of life is on the line!”
Torta got up and rolled his neck. “A fight’s a fight. Doesn’t really prove anything.” He opened several Onion Rings, ready for his main assault. As he punched through the first one, landing a devastating blow to Bake, the Weapons Master cut through another Onion Ring, causing it to collapse into itself. With the pause created by Torta’s surprise, Bake cut the others, as well, and kicked him in the stomach. Torta formed another ring to block Bake’s next attack, but he cut it first, nicking Torta’s face with the sword before punching it. Bake opened up into him with a powerful barrage, until Torta managed to retreat. He chuckled. “Doesn’t this make you feel alive?”
Bake was infuriated. He rushed in. As Torta summoned Onion Rings, he would cut them away, and the two exchanged blows. Torta kept trying new things to get past the Cake Slicer. He started by summoning extra rings, to lure in a slash, while he struck through another. He got in a few good blows this way, clearly serious blows to Bake. However, he was still able to follow Torta’s movements enough to cut through several correct rings, as well, and Torta got his arms and hands cut up this way. Torta switched tactics, instead focusing on summoning the rings as late as possible so they couldn’t be closed. This was a tall order, requiring incredible mental focus. Several times, Torta summoned rings after he struck, and Bake picked apart his openings.
After a few tries, Torta got into the rhythm properly and started making headway against Bake. He formed Angus Patties over his hands to protect from the Cake Slicer slashing over his fingers. “You really think that if you lose, it means your people haven’t suffered?” Torta asked as he slammed Bake across the jaw. “That you lost a grand philosophical argument about justice? Would that change your mind at all? Would anything?” Svenex giggled, despite herself. “If that’s what you’re caught up in, then this isn’t going to solve anything!” Bake kicked Torta’s knee, knocking him over, and rained several punches down at him. Torta blocked and kicked off a small ring to get away. “This is just a tourney with a prize. We can talk after!”
“Just shut up!!” Bake yelled. He slashed several times in front of himself, forming a massive hole to suck Torta in. Torta tried backing out with a ring, but the pull was even greater than the ring’s acceleration, and he was dragged towards Bake. The Weapons Master had his sword drawn back, preparing for a full force hilt smash into Torta’s chest. Just as he made contact, Torta’s body tilted to the side, and he was knocked to the ground at Bake’s right. “I am doing the right thing! I will get what my people deserve! We have lived in fear for generations! None of your idealistic talk of making amends will change what must be done! We will be secure, forever!”
Torta got up and winced, his chest bruised. “Well, would you accept my protection, then? I could keep the military off you, easy. Okome doesn’t have anything I’m worried about, and I’m pretty sure I can take all the other Masters. No offense, guys.” Hypno laughed, Yogin smiled, and Chef scoffed. “I don’t mind hanging around you all for a while.”
Bake charged back in, cutting through a defensive ring before getting punched by an Angus Patty through another. “Don’t make promises lightly! Your words have no weight!” He continued his attack, but was making fewer and fewer connections. Torta had gotten the hang of his strategy and Bake’s movements, keeping ahead of the Weapons Master at every turn.
“You’re only proving me right, the way you stick to your guns,” Torta remarked. “Man, sometimes it feels like my body wants to move on its own!” With a few more strikes, Torta was able to push Bake back to the edge of the arena. “If you really wanted to win this, you would have had other people on your team.” The fear of loss hit Bake in an instant. Patis and the villagers were in stunned silence. Bake gritted his teeth and swung full force with the Cake Slicer, hoping to push Torta away from the edge. The blade cut across Torta’s chest, and he rocked back to avoid it going deeper than the muscle. As he fell backwards, Torta summoned a ring behind his own head, launching him forward to a powerful headbutt into Bake’s skull. Stunned by the attack, Bake fell, landing on the grass.
Patis was horrified.
“Call it,” Svenex said, a confident smile on her face.
With a hushed voice, Patis announced, “First victory for humanity by ring out. With the entire team representing the Earth Namekians defeated, victory goes to the human challengers.”
Svenex beamed as her friends and allies cheered behind. At once, she felt validated in her decision, the risk she took paying off completely. Puttee, Gaita, and Legging hugged. Dragon slapped Svenex on the back. Regal and the Grand Elder traded glances, laughing together. Jockey sighed in relief, holding Clementine’s hands in her own. Tarsa smiled, but scoffed internally, reckoning with how much further they had to go. Okome nodded, pleased. Poboy sighed, wondering if Okome knew returning all the weapons used in the battle to the Earth Namekians would still result in this outcome. The Masters all cheered amongst themselves.
Torta bent down and reached out a hand to Bake. “See?” he asked. “A fight’s a fight. We didn’t solve anything here.”
Bake smacked his hand away. He rose to his feet, tears of frustration in his eyes. “Don’t speak like you know what you’ve done to me!” he said.
Patis held his son, grabbing his shoulders. “You did well, my child,” he said. “You did everything you could. There is no shame in this. We will always find a way to survive.”
“Indeed, we shall,” Svenex whispered.
The dragon god stood to attention outside the arena. Everyone turned at once, reverently awaiting its words. “The fight has been decided!” the dragon declared. “The wish that won out this day belongs to Svenex. Please, in light of your victory, tell me once more what you desire?”
Puttee was intrigued. The dragon already knew their wish, and yet it was not set in stone. Svenex stepped forward. She sighed and looked up to meet its eyes. “I wish for the population of the Earth to be restored to its previous state before the M-2 invasion, as allies of the Earth Namekians.” Patis and Bake were taken aback.
The dragon’s eyes glowed. “Your wish is granted. All those killed have returned, and their hearts are with this village. Fare thee well.” The dragon once more exploded with light, returning to the balls. These Dragon Balls did not scatter or turn to stone. The attendants emerged once more to retrieve them, until the next challenge.
“You changed the wish,” Legging remarked.
“It’s not exactly ethical,” Svenex mumbled. “I technically just mind controlled the planet.”
“For justice!” Puttee added.
“I don’t feel any different,” Gaita said.
“Of course not,” said Legging. “No one here was an enemy of the Earth Namekians. There was nothing for the wish to change about us.”
Patis approached Svenex. “Is it true?” he asked. “Are they really our allies now?”
“You heard your own dragon god,” Svenex said. “Don’t you trust it?”
“But you…”
Svenex put a hand on his shoulder. “I never wanted to risk our people’s lives. I always wanted to win the heart of humanity, so we could emerge in peace. This isn’t how I wanted to do things, but it was the only way to make things right, after the mess I created.”
Patis bowed his head, tears falling to the earth. “Thank you.”
Torta clapped Bake’s back. “See? Isn’t she great? Everything turned out alright!”
Bake was still shellshocked. “She did it…”
Torta looked at Bake a moment. “You know, she doesn’t like to let it show, but Svenex gets lonely a lot. She never feels like she has a place in the world. I think she was living with the same fear as you, her whole life. Maybe we all had the wrong idea about this stuff.”
The Earth Namekians were still processing this ending of a centuries-long conflict. Murmurs stirred, as more and more eyes turned from Svenex and Torta to Patis. The renowned Elder of the village stepped into the arena, pausing in the center. He took a deep breath. “My people!” he yelled for all to hear. “It is over! There is no more fighting! As your leader, I will personally head into the human capitols and witness with my own eyes whether it is truly safe for us out in the open! Until I make my full report to you, I will leave it up to you all whether or not you do the same! But at this moment…Rejoice!” The village erupted in cheers. With their Elder’s words, the crowd aligned their feelings and felt the joy of this future awaiting them.
Patis stepped out of the arena and approached Okome and the Grand Elder. The two guardians joined him. “I don’t know what our future holds right now,” he said. “I still can’t allow myself to fully accept it, as much as I want to. But if things truly stand as the dragon god said, I hope that we can speak about how we move forward.”
“Of course,” said Okome with a gentle smile.
“I am more than excited to welcome you back into the family,” the Grand Elder said, gripping Patis’s hand. “I am ready to right past wrongs and have you join your fellow Namekians across the stars!”
Torta rejoined his friends. He high-fived Gaita and Puttee, Dragon slung his arm over his shoulders, and Regal gave him an approving nod. Tarsa walked up to him and begrudgingly punched his arm as congratulations. Svenex broke through and hugged him tight. “Thanks for this!” she said. “I couldn’t have done anything without your help!”
“What are friends for?” Torta asked. “I’m just a dummy; you’re the real hero today!”
The group continued to celebrate in the village for a while, until it was time to leave. Okome, Poboy, Joma, Chef, Yogin, and Hypno all stepped outside village grounds to take a Temple door away. The rest of the group clambered into the vane and flew back to the Unaffiliated Islands, where they had a victory feast.
While they were partying, Svenex got a call from the World Council. They requested she come in to give them a full briefing on what happened, and informed her that she was reinstated to her former status. Apparently, the council met and unanimously decided that Svenex should never have been ejected for being an Earth Namekian in secret. She was even asked to lead a task force in reaching out to the village. Svenex barely completed the phone call, for all the tears of joy welling in her eyes. Though she was the one who made the wish, she wasn’t convinced it worked as desired until that moment. Finally, the dream her parents had worked for was a reality. She stepped outside and felt the grass beneath her feet. For the first time, Svenex felt the firm ground of her home planet holding her tight.
Epilogue:
The celebration continued through the night. Poboy joined everyone later on, having seen to the farewells of the Element, Body, and Mind Masters. Torta clapped him on the back. “It’s great to see you again!” he said.
Poboy smiled a toothy grin. “I am glad for it, as well!”
“So, tell us!” Puttee called out, rushing over. “Did Okome want us to win?”
The room turned to Poboy. “I am not quite sure, myself. He spoke of protecting the Earth, no matter its inhabitants, but I imagine he had a preference for humanity, if only because the Earth Namekians would have been at war with him.”
“He would have had an uphill battle,” Svenex said, “getting on their good side.”
“He did make an offering, for amends. All of the weapons used by Bake in that battle, except for the Sundae Belt, were kept in the Temple. Okome returned them on the day you made your challenge.”
The room was stunned. “So, I guess he is a good guy?” Torta asked. “That’s a good guy thing to do.”
“It nearly cost us the battle,” Gaita remarked.
“It would have been unfair to fight an unarmed Weapons Master,” Regal countered.
“And yet,” Poboy continued, “he did not return the jewel that rests in the library. That’s what the shadow thieves came to steal with the Friand Dagger a couple years ago. It is also a cultural asset of the Earth Namekians.”
“He’s still holding out on us!” Puttee complained. “Svenex, you have any idea what that thing is?”
“Can’t say I do,” Svenex said. “Must be more important than anything else past Kamis stole from us.”
“In the end, he still holds all of us in the dark,” the Grand Elder said, “hoping to use us for his own plans when the time comes.”
“But wasn’t his first plan with you all to defeat a monster?” Legging asked. “Maybe he’s acting out of goodness, and we can trust him in that sense.”
“All I know is,” Poboy said, looking down at his paws, “he claims to be a beacon of wisdom, leading the Earth on a righteous path, and yet he cannot trust even his own successor with basic information about the planet I am to inherit. While I still see virtue in the position of Kami, I am losing respect for Okome, and I cannot say if I want to follow in his footsteps.”
“That’s a tough spot to be in,” said Jockey, snuggled in a corner with Clementine.
“Are you two ever going to stop physically touching?” asked Puttee.
The two traded glances. “I am sure we will someday,” said Jockey. “Right now, I still feel them flowing within my body. It was comforting in a dark time.”
“Don’t tease them, Puttee,” Legging scolded. “They have a sweet relationship!”
“You two going to stick around here much longer?” Torta asked.
“No,” Jockey said. “I plan to leave soon. I only came here to deal with M-2, and stayed past for this tournament. I have other business to attend to.”
“I will travel with Jockey for a while,” Clementine added. “Eventually, I want to return to Plant and help set things right with the remaining Machine Mutants.”
“I can give you a ride out, if you want,” Dragon offered. “Me and the fleet are going to head out soon, too.”
“It would be much appreciated,” Jockey said.
Far away, in the Temple of the Kami, Okome and Joma sat in the grand hall. The two were pleased with the turn of events, with the animosity with the Earth Namekians defused and the planet on a road to recovery. Okome looked to his side, noting the absence of his apprentice.
“The bear enjoys the company of those fighters,” Joma said. “You can still move forward with his training.”
Okome pondered. “I am not so sure. I don’t want to lose him, but I also don’t know if I can convince him that I am still the man he thought I was when he first arrived here in the grand hall.”
“I cannot speak to these troubles. Your affairs are not for me to interfere with.”
“I am pleased you would even bother reminding me of that. What does the future hold for the Earth, with this crisis past?”
Joma closed her eyes. “The future is murky. I cannot make predictions with accuracy at the moment. For so long now, my eyes have been clouded.”
Okome hummed. “One day, you must tell me more of this story. I won’t press for details this night, though.”
“Perhaps one day I will tell you. Will you return the jewel, once you are secure in your alliance with Patis?”
“I cannot. Not only have I told him it was destroyed, I can’t trust them with it. Someone in their tribe must have spoken to him, colluded with him. Until I can be sure his threat is not hanging over the Earth, I cannot yield the most dangerous weapon ever created to any other’s hands.”
“Do you plan to use it, should anyone go after those proverbial time bombs?”
“No, I never intend to use the weapon myself. And no one will ever find those, either. The entire universe would be imperiled.”
“Perhaps those children could be of assistance once more.”
“I fear that even they would not be able to manage that battle. I would rather not get them involved.”
Life in the Gutters 