A.N. Just a note, this DC world is an AU, a mashup of different continuities for plot's sake...and also because the jump between season 1 and 2 of Young Justice was just disgusting. A piss poor decision. The first season is the only good one in my opinion.
-+-
Chapter 2
-Son Bardock Jr-
Gritting my teeth, I bore the insufferable pain as I lay in the crater created by the impact of my now limp body. After taking in one last breath, making sure to suck my gut in so I don't scream, I glared defiantly over at my opponent.
The tall blue man with the stupid haircut in a red dress and a magical walking stick just stood there staring down at me with a smirk on his face. Even in the humiliation of defeat, I had enough sense to see it was no mockery on his part…he was looking at something he considered a novelty. That was the gap between us…I was no worthy opponent, just a plaything he used to idly pass his time. But still, I had my pride to consider. This world I was born in punished you if you showed weakness. And it had been a very long time since I had known defeat.
"You know, you don't possess the usual temperament of a member of your race." Bluey chuckled at me as he held a curled index finger to his chin, like he was genuinely deep in thought. "Then again, that's not the only strange thing about you. What's a living Saiyan doing down here in this place?"
"That's a question I've asked myself a thousand times too much." I forced out of gritted teeth. "Go ahead, call me a freak or an abomination."
"Why?" Bluey cocked his head. "Do you want me to?"
"You wouldn't be the first."
"Hm." Bluey took his eyes off me for a moment as he surveyed the ruined planes of Hell, craters littered all over it. If I could move, I'd probably take the opportunity to sneak attack him even knowing the futility. I didn't manage to land one hit on him no matter how much I powered up.
"You gonna finish the job or what?" I said drawing his attention again. "Let's face it, you kill me here, all that would change is me getting one of those stupid halos. Then I'd really belong here."
I mean what's the worst he could do to me at this point? Snitch on me to King Yemma for blowing up another Hell plane? That guy could stick his big horned helmet up where the sun never shone for forgetting to let me out into the mortal plane time after time. The 'overworked' excuse could only work so many times.
"That is an option, yes…but no." Bluey twirled his walking stick before pointing the large, haloed orb on the end at me. It flashed blue for a moment, my body being covered in the same aura as all my pain instantly vanished, tendons and bones knitting back together as the scuffs and scratches disappeared too.
Feeling perplexed, I sat up, rolling my shoulders to make sure they weren't still dislocated. I'm no stranger to magic but it was the first time someone used it here to heal me instead of turning me into a frog again. Mercy got you killed here. And generally, if you get killed here again, that's bye-bye to you for good.
This guy, more than anyone else, held the power of life and death over me as he categorically dismantled me while yawning and smirking all the while. I'm a lot more rational than my kin, accepting of the reality there are other ways besides the traditional good ol' Saiyan way. But this didn't make sense even to me.
"Why?"
"To be honest, beyond your irregular status in this specific plane of existence, you intrigue me." Bluey said as he held up a piece of hair he'd plucked from my head during our fight, if it could even be called that. The single strand still glowed green before slowly wilting and turning back to its usual black colour. "I've taught other members of your kin before. And if my knowledge serves me right, you are a particular type of Saiyan, one that's supposed to appear only once every thousand years. I would have thought until a few minutes ago that I'd met that Saiyan a short while back. And yet here you are…"
"Is there a point to this? You might have healed me, but I haven't got my energy back, so we're not fighting again anytime soon, that's for sure."
"Maybe. Tell me, what's your name?"
"Bardock. Bardock Junior."
"Junior? Is your father a Bardock too?"
"No. The miserable bastard didn't bother to name me. I took it for myself after I learned my grandfather's name. He's the senior one. Dunno where he is though. He never showed up here apparently, and they can't find him in Heaven either from what I hear."
"Indeed." Bluey seemed to examine me a little more. "I must say, you bear certain hallmarks that are all too familiar…tell me young friend, do you have any other family?"
"I'm told my grandmother is in Heaven, my dad's mom. Couldn't even give crap about my mom's side. Her name is Gine...my grandmother I mean. Not my mother." Sitting cross legged, I ponder the question carefully. What did I have to lose by being nice and accommodating to the guy who just so kindly healed me up? Other than maybe a sliver of what remained of my dignity. "…oh yeah, I once heard daddy dearest bitch about a supposed uncle I have back in the world of the living…what was his name again? …oh yeah, Kakarot. That sounds about right I think."
"You're certain?" Bluey quirked an eyebrow. Something in his voice was a little different.
"Quite. I'm sure I heard about him fighting some pink man a few years back. I wasn't too interested though, was kind of occupied in a fight of my own."
"I'm sure." Bluey said. "Well then young Bardock, how would you like to come with me?"
"With you, Mr Pointy Shoes? Why would I?"
"Because I'll knock you out and carry you out of here regardless." He laughed. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Whis. I serve as the angel attendant to His Lordship, Beerus the Destroyer."
"The one from the legends?" By legends I mean the stories where said guy put his boot on King Vegeta's head. Anybody that could bring that asshole low was worth at least a modicum of worship in my books…I guess that extended to me now. Stomping that arrogant prick's face in now and then is really therapeutic. Of course, I've also heard about the Destroyer god in plenty of other tales too. It's what counted as bedtime stories here in hell.
"The very same. I've also taken to mentoring Saiyans of the special variety in recent years. A category which you too fall into quite easily. I'm quite certain that under the same guidance, you will flourish just as they have."
"Yemma hasn't exactly been eager to let me go."
"I suspect I know the reason why. But you'll find that I don't have to explain any of my actions to the honourable judge." Whis's smirk got just a little wider. "So, Saiyan Bardock, what do you say?"
"…screw it, sure. How bad could it be?"
-+-
"It would appear that Universe 7 never disappoints on delivering exceptional Saiyan warriors." The little angel with a halo behind his head instead of around his neck commented as he studied me. Hovering above us was a large palace, and we were all situated in the courtyard in front of it. Around me were 12 stone pillars, above each was set one of the 12 universes in existence, or at least some visual manifestation of them. And from what I could see, all of that sat atop a…giant blue floating jellyfish?
Is this really where the Supreme Ruler of the multiverse resided?
"I haven't quite gotten used to it either Grand Minister." Whis said as he stood before my knelt form.
Usually, Saiyans would never kneel but I have no problem doing so to my betters when decorum demanded it. Of all people, the angel in front of me had a right to my respect.
"And he's slated to be the next Destroyer?" The Grand Minister asked. "I'd thought you were grooming Prince Vegeta for that role."
"He and Goku passed up the opportunity a long time ago." Whis said. "Bardock here wasn't so dismissive of the opportunity."
"All due respect…" I interjected. "My uncle and the esteemed Prince threatened to make my life hell if I didn't take the gig. The way they saw it, if I said yes, Whis would stop asking them."
"Goku threatened you? I find it hard to believe." The Father Angel smiled not unkindly.
"A lot more words were conveyed…a few punches were thrown. But I summarised the entire incident as succinctly as possible just now."
"Hm. Politically economic with your choice of words. Perhaps you are suited to becoming the next Destroyer of your universe." The Grand Minister chuckled. "Well as much as I like to receive visitors on behalf of myself and His Majesty, what exactly is the reason you brought him here Whis?"
"Bardock is a most disciplined pupil, and obedient to a fault. He understands and respects the order of things. And his combat growth is nothing short of spectacular."
Yeah, yeah Whis. Lay it on a little thicker why don't ya? Doesn't make it any less of a revenge plot on your end to lump me with work just because I stole the last instant ramen from your not-so-secret stash.
"However, I feel it to be pertinent that he gets a feel for working towards the betterment and balance of the cosmos before he succeeds Lord Beerus." Whis continued. "There those that would call it work-experience, is what I'm searching for him. As Lord Beerus's prospective successor, he needs practical experience in maintaining cosmic order, exercising judgement, operating under authority, and seeing the consequences of interference across history."
"I see." The Grand Minister looked behind him at a blue-skinned young woman, another angel. "Kansei here also happens to be moving onto the next stage of her angel training. She's meant to spend some time amongst the mortals to gain an understanding of how they live. Perhaps I'll relegate her to young Bardock here in the future if you express an interest in stepping down yourself."
I've seen lots of women from different races by now…something about her though both intrigues and irks me. Especially as she glanced my way and gave me an imperious, teasing smirk. Her, and her open cut dress that showed off her belly button, her long shapely legs and quite immodestly compared to her sisters, her bust wasn't as contained by her odd choice of clothing, and that perfectly symmetrical face with that wild mane of luscious silver hair and cherry purple lips…
…oh Great Zeno, I'm not as oblivious as my thick-headed uncle so I think I know what this sudden feeling welling up inside me is. And judging from how her smirk curled up a little more, I think she knows it too.
"I do believe Chronoa is short-staffed at the moment. A warrior of Bardock's calibre would do well in the Time Patrol I believe. No end of villainous upstarts aiming to bend time and space to throw inter-universal harmony in disarray. The last time she made mention of it, I believe the poor thing cried. What say you, young Saiyan?" The Grand Minister asked me.
The perfectly innocent expression on Whis's face promised misery if I didn't accept.
"Sounds perfect." I said, still not taking my eyes off of the smoke show that seemed to now be grinning at me from her place behind her father.
-+-
Emerging from that nostalgic stroll down memory lane, I awoke inside some sort of medical capsule. Huh, Bulma set me up for recovery again. Just another thing she's putting on my tab again. I wonder which underground cavern I'm going to have to scratch around in with a pickaxe or a hazmat suit this time. Probably retrieve another magma sample, or some other crystallized energy source.
If it's not for the Time Machine again, I won't catch any trouble from my boss about it. The last time was punishing enough. Huh, since when did she employ oxygen masks in here? And why is the space inside here so lacking? I might as well be in a glass coffin.
Trying to reach out with my senses, I flinched as my energy recoiled, causing me to smack my face against the capsule's glass…and put my entire skull right through it as cold air came rushing into the confined space. As I blinked the fatigue and mist out of my eyes, my vision focused on an unfamiliar medical bay. And there was that unmistakable feeling of suspension, the pull of artificial gravity and manufactured oxygen gradient signature to a space station.
Bulma never told me about a space station. She tries to juggle a lot of projects but a space station would have been something she wouldn't be able to shut up about. Which can only mean I'm not in Bulma's capsule…and I'm not in Capsule Corporation's care.
Ripping the mask off my face, I forced myself through, ripping the capsule lid off and throwing it aside as I stepped out onto cold metal floor in nothing but a pair of boxers' My knees wobbled for a moment before I gripped my thighs and held myself steady, gritting my teeth in anger.
Demigra really did a number on me this time. Then again, the number of times I've killed him and forced him to body hop over to an alternate version of himself just to hatch another scheme to take over the multiverse, I suppose it was only a matter of time before I drove him crazy enough to try and blow up a few timelines just to get rid of me.
Hopefully he went down for good this time.
Detonating my energy at a full power-up to weather the blast probably wasn't the smartest move on my part, even if it was to protect Trunks. Trunks! Did he make it too? Looking around the med bay and not seeing him, my question appeared to remain unanswered for the time being.
Ignoring the jerk of pain from doing so, I closed my eyes and reached out. Nothing. For half a heartbeat, genuine fear went through me as I received no feedback. Then something answered me, and I almost wished it hadn't.
My senses opened wider, feeling beyond the room, beyond the metal surrounding me, searching instinctively for the familiar current of life. Usually, it was effortless. Every living thing possessed energy. Weak or strong, trained or untrained, it didn't matter. Life had a presence. On Earth, I could pick easily pick out Kakarot out from the other side of the planet without thinking about it. His energy fluctuations were usually transparent, easily read and so happy all the time. Vegeta had his own texture, violent and unrestrained yet not in a manic manner. Gohan another, stoic and yet carefree. Even ordinary people formed a background murmur if I stretched my senses far enough.
Here, wherever here was, everything was wrong.
There were people nearby. I could feel them. And they were…strange. The ones in my immediate vicinity seemed far too weak to exert the kind of pressure that they were, one of them at least. The other two seemed comparable to ordinary Earthlings though something tinged the presence of one. Hundreds more were farther away. Billions somewhere beneath me, distant enough that I knew I wasn't on the planet itself. Their lives should have been tiny lights against an otherwise quiet universe.
Instead, they were submerged in noise. I frowned and pushed farther. The universe pushed back against me…an unfamiliar setting, vastly different even from the alternate timelines I'd paid visits to. Not deliberately either. There was no mind behind it that I could detect, at least none transparently comprehensive. It was simply... full.
Energy flowed through it, as such was the case with places that contained life but not cleanly. Not the way I understood it. Life energy was there, certainly, but diluted beneath layers of other things. Some felt almost like ki until I touched them and found something fundamentally different underneath. Power moved through the fabric of this place in currents I had no names for. Some were thin enough that I could barely distinguish them. Others were everywhere.
Magic. I'm no stranger to magic. I'd fought enough demons and sorcerers to recognize its stink, killed even more to know the feeling of its extinguishment. This wasn't one kind of magic. There were thousands. Flavours upon flavours magic coloured the tapestry of this universe.
I could feel currents winding through the universe like rivers beneath rivers. Some brushed against mortal lives. Some gathered around worlds. Others disappeared into places that seemed impossibly distant despite somehow being right beside everything else. I reached toward one and recoiled when my senses abruptly found something vast looking back through it.
Not a person. A domain. This one seemed seated upon some sort of obsidian throne, his eyes made of fire, dressed in black armour of cruelly twisted metal as what seemed to be the cries of countless tortured souls screamed all around him. And just as I observed him, he observed me back, with constrained malice but no small amount of intrigue.
Was that…was that a god? One that seemed to preside over some kind of afterlife. King Yemma might be a workaholic fool but he didn't colour himself with the torment of the souls he condemned. That was more the work of a demon god…and yet this one didn't seem demonic in nature. Just cruelty being his state of being. I opened my eyes. Something like this didn't exist anywhere on Earth, at leas the one I was familiar with.
The strange room returned around me. White light. Machines. The semi-transparent glass panes of what seemed like some sort of observation deck right above. Voices somewhere outside coming closer by the second. My generous hosts were no doubt coming to greet me. I ignored them and closed my eyes again.
Carefully this time, I reached outward without trying to force everything into the shape I expected. That helped to solidify my suspicion further. There were gods here, and the realization came quickly that these were not the type of gods I was familiar with. Not Kais. Nothing remotely like Kais.
Their presence was tangled into the universe differently. I could feel territories that weren't physical spaces, borders that didn't exist in physical space. Places saturated with particular powers. Some were close to the mortal world. Others seemed separated from it by distances that had nothing to do with kilometres.
I touched one other current, not far removed from that dark god who presided over a hellscape and tasted something ancient, violent and hot. War. Any traditional pureblood Saiyan would resonate with it, be drawn to it, relish it. I was never like the other members of my kind, and I pulled back from it with disgust as I tasted the blood of innocents in those raging flames.
The god that commanded this domain turned to face me but I didn't want to behold such a foul being mutually just yet. I know by now what looks like an inevitable problem I'll have to deal with but I'd like to be the only one to get away with a proper glimpse of my probable adversary. This cold-blooded bastard revelled in his cruelty. The previous one simply believed it was because he had to be to fulfil his purpose. But this tyrant went out of his way to cause misery and pain, or at least he once did. He'd left a great imprint on the world around him but he clearly didn't fill it out as much as he once did.
Good. If things come to head, it'll be good to strike him down while he's as weak as he can be. Look at me, all banged up and damaged but already planning to throw down with a god of war. I do my ancestors proud.
I pulled away completely to touch another current, one cold enough to make my skin tighten. Not cold like ice. Something quieter. Final. Something vastly bigger than the other two gods…actually, calling this one a god didn't seem correct. It was more like a force of nature, dark in being but I could find no contempt or lust for suffering. Just…acceptance…and it seemed to be everywhere all at once. The finality, the inevitability of Death…was that a woman's musical laughter?
I didn't touch that one twice, figuring I don't want to give it a chance to look back at me.
Farther still were things I couldn't understand at all. Immense structures of power threaded through existence, touching dreams, souls, thought, death, time and things for which I didn't possess words. Some felt like realms. Some felt like beings. Somehow, impossibly, some felt like both.
My breathing had quickened enough that I had to force it down. Whis would have hit me over the head with his staff for that.
Observe before reacting.
Right. I reached inward instead. That was worse in a different way. My energy was there, not nearly all of it. Barely enough for me to assume Wrath form. I'd likely be only able to hold it for a minute at most before being forced to power down, if I could assume it at all. And banged up as I was…it was refilling way too slow, and the flow was too jagged, not at all the disciplined harmony that Whis whipped into me.
Trying to move it made pain explode from my stomach through my chest. The energy shifted reluctantly, catching somewhere inside me before surging far harder than I'd intended. I strangled the movement immediately. The lights above me flickered and crackled, and even though I just meant to stop the surge, it suddenly plummeted to an all time low. Trying to keep a firm hold of it at a specific level seemed like an impossibility right now.
…damned demon.
That tiny effort had felt like trying to pour an ocean through a cracked straw only to lose it into a bottomless pit. But it was still there. No permanent lost power, just a lost grip on it.
The explosion had done something to me. I could still remember the energy of my Blue form tearing through my body, Legendary power overlaying it, Kaioken forcing both beyond anything they were supposed to endure. I'd pushed until there hadn't been a distinction between pain and power anymore. Then the Universe Seed had gone off.
I didn't share in my uncle's love for dramatic transformations, though I could admit their uses. But that had been the first time I'd been as reckless as he, an act of desperate measures driven by dire circumstances.
Trunks…
I reached out sharply again, despite the pain it caused. Nothing. No familiar presence. No Chronoa. No Kakarot. No Vegeta. I pushed farther despite the pain. Nothing. For the first time since learning to sense energy properly after I'd been freed from Hell, I couldn't find anyone I knew.
There should have been something. However far I'd been thrown, there were signatures I knew well enough to recognize across absurd distances. Gods especially. Beerus wasn't exactly subtle when you knew what to look for, even when he was being quiet. But there was nothing. Only this impossible universe, roaring back at me.
I stopped searching, the obvious answer finally settling into place. I wasn't somewhere else in Universe Seven. I wasn't in another familiar universe. I wasn't even sure I was somewhere Chronoa could reach given the staggering unknowns I just encountered in these brief moments. I stared through the glass window at the end of the med bay, while unfamiliar energies crawled at the edges of my perception.
There, outside, serenely spinning on its axis was Earth. A Earth, but not the one I'd come to call home. Its surface alone was familiar yet so different. The general continents were reminiscent of what I knew yet vastly different in the specifics of their shape, and the surface was filled with human life, spread out so far and so diversely. So many cities, so many borders, so many countries.
There was so much here.
Gods. Magic. Mortal life. Entire realms pressed against reality. Things moving underneath existence that I couldn't begin to identify. Powers so old and deeply embedded that trying to separate them from the universe itself was like trying to separate heat from fire.
My first coherent thought should probably have been that I needed to find a way home. Instead, despite the pain, despite Trunks being gone and my ever rising worry over the fate of my best friend, despite barely being able to move my own energy, I felt the corner of my mouth beginning to rise.
Whis was going to kill me.
Because beneath the fear, beneath the confusion and the deeply unpleasant realization that I had absolutely no idea where I was, another feeling had started growing. Curiosity. I'd always been curious, eager to get to know the great unknowns. A result of my unjust and bizarre imprisonment in Hell for my formative years. Letting me out into the land of the living filled my being with so many new tastes, I'd vowed to grab every new morsel I could find, every new experience to be had.
It was mainly the reason behind my begrudging acceptance of becoming the Seventh Universe's future Destroyer. Immortality and nigh-unchallengeable authority would allow me to explore all the new things the universe would have to offer, a chance to see the rise and fall of so many new things. So many places to see, so many things to eat, so many pleasures to enjoy.
I could easily live a few hundred million years like Lord Beerus before getting bored, whilst at the same time fulfilling my duty and keeping my universe's mortal level above the threshold of competence the Omni-Kings and the Grand Minister assigned to reality.
And yet here I was, somewhere that didn't seem to adhere to the same laws. I couldn't determine exactly where I was. I couldn't even begin to guess where I had ended up after I blacked out. But for the first time in a very long while, after decades spent in other timelines during my duties as the Future Warrior and Chronoa's pre-eminent Time Patroller, I was somewhere completely unknown.
And I couldn't understand anything.
"...Huh." I looked towards the sliding doors as my hosts finally stopped outside of it, three sets of footsteps, two of their scents definitely human. "This could be fun."
Doesn't mean I was going to stop being a Saiyan. Or a Time Patroller. These people showed up after I blacked out from Demigra's suicide attempt. No way in hell I was going to trust them upfront just yet.
-+-
-Bruce Wayne (Batman)-
The medical capsule had failed before Batman even headed for the med bay.
A violent metallic crack sounded from behind the sealed doors, followed almost immediately by the Watchtower computer announcing a containment failure. Bruce quickened his pace without breaking into a run. Superman moved beside him while John followed several steps behind, the Green Lantern ring already glowing around his fist.
Bardock's neurological activity had been rising steadily for several seconds, which was why all three of them had remained nearby. Bruce had expected confusion when their unknown patient awakened. He had not expected the reinforced medical capsule to survive very long if that confusion turned violent. It had after all been constructed to bed powerhouses.
The doors opened just as Bardock tore off the last of the tubes and needles stuck in him. The locking mechanisms of the capsule had sheared apart under his hands, and the entire cover had flown across the room, smashing into an empty diagnostic station hard enough to buckle its casing, the corner of the lid embedded in the screen. Bardock stood upright beneath the harsh medical lights, breathing heavily as he stared around at an environment he plainly didn't recognize. He looked down at where the IV had previously been embedded in his arm, having pulled the catheter free without hesitation and now pressing his thumb against the tiny bead of blood that followed.
Bruce watched rather than approaching. Bardock's balance was initially unstable when he climbed from the capsule according to the feed. There was no obvious dizziness, confusion or loss of coordination right now despite having been unconscious only minutes earlier. Curiously he was still not completely healed, meaning he needed the worth of an entire bean of whatever that alien legume was to heal up completely. Stopping just short of a full dosage left him with some visible wear and tear still.
Bardock's eyes travelled around the room rapidly before settling on the three men standing near the entrance. John received the first examination, particularly the glowing ring on his hand. Superman held Bardock's attention considerably longer. Then the young man's eyes moved to Bruce and stayed there.
"Son Bardock," Batman said.
The name produced the first obvious reaction. Bardock's brow tightened and his posture became fractionally more guarded. "How do you know my name?"
"We found identification among your possessions."
Bardock's eyes narrowed. "My possessions?"
"They're safe," Superman said before Bruce could answer. Clark kept his voice calm, his hands plainly visible at his sides. "So are you. You were badly injured when we found you."
Bardock looked around the room again before his attention drifted upward, not toward anything in particular but seemingly beyond the ceiling itself. Bruce remembered the strange neurological and energetic activity immediately before Bardock had awakened. The young man seemed to be searching for something with senses none of their tests had identified.
"Where am I?"
"The Justice League Watchtower," Clark answered. "You're in orbit above Earth."
That brought Bardock's attention sharply back to him. "Earth?"
"Yes."
"Earth of Universe Seven?"
John and Clark exchanged a glance. Bruce watched Bardock instead.
"No."
For several seconds Bardock said nothing. Whatever he'd been expecting, that answer had disturbed him more than waking inside an unfamiliar medical facility. His gaze drifted again as though searching for something impossibly far away, and Bruce saw his jaw tighten when he apparently failed to find it. Nevertheless, there was no panic. Bardock absorbed the information with a degree of composure Bruce wouldn't have expected from someone who had apparently just learned he was no longer in his own universe.
"What universe is this?"
"We don't use the same designation system you apparently do," John said. "We're still trying to determine exactly where you came from. My ring couldn't trace the rift's origin."
Bardock glanced at John's ring.
"You tried?"
"We've been trying since you arrived."
Bardock considered that before looking toward Bruce. "Where are my things?"
"Secured."
"I want them."
"Not yet."
The change in Bardock was subtle. He didn't raise his voice or clench his fists. He simply stared at Bruce with a stillness that immediately made the atmosphere in the room less comfortable.
"They're mine."
"You arrived unconscious through an unidentified rupture in space carrying technology we don't understand and a weapon made from a material our scanners can't identify. Until we know more, they remain secured."
"You mean my sword."
"Among other things."
Bardock glanced down at himself, apparently only now taking detailed notice of the plain medical boxers they'd dressed him in. Their usual medical gowns hadn't been able to accommodate the boy's girth. At six feet five inches in height, he was a sculpture of muscle like something from mythology. And Bruce had met Olympian gods. "You took my clothes too."
"They were mostly destroyed," Clark said. "Nobody here is trying to rob you, Bardock. You were dying when we found you. We brought you here because you needed help."
That seemed to take some of the edge out of him. Bardock looked at the ruined capsule, then at the medical equipment surrounding it. His fingers briefly touched the place on his arm where the IV had been. "You treated me."
"We did."
His eyes shifted toward one of the displays and then narrowed.
"The Senzu."
Bruce immediately knew what he meant. That was a Japanese word, roughly translating to 'sage bean'. That was beyond a doubt the name of the green legume. Which confirmed whatever culture Bardock came from on his Earth was equivalent to that of Japan.
Bardock looked directly at him. "You used one."
"We analyzed one and administered a processed fraction intravenously."
Bardock stared at him in disbelief. "You put a Senzu through a tube?"
"You were unconscious."
"You're supposed to eat them."
"We didn't know that."
Bardock rubbed a hand across his face and muttered something he failed to catch. He looked up to Clark who gave him a shrug, conveying he didn't understand what was said even if he heard it clear. John looked as though he were fighting the beginnings of a smile, while Clark's expression remained carefully neutral. Bruce filed the name Senzu away and watched as Bardock finally shook his head and started toward the exit.
John stepped across his path. "Hold up."
Bardock stopped. "Move."
"We need you to stay here for a while longer."
"I'm healed."
"Mostly," Batman corrected. "Your cellular injuries have repaired, but the unidentified energy throughout your body remains unstable. Our medical system is still detecting irregularities."
Bardock looked toward him. "Your medical system doesn't know what it's measuring."
Bruce couldn't disagree with that, which made it irritatingly effective as an argument. "Neither do we. That's precisely why leaving immediately is inadvisable."
"I'm not staying."
Clark moved closer, still deliberately keeping himself between Bardock and the situation becoming a fight. "Nobody said you're a prisoner. But you fell out of a rupture over one of our largest cities, unconscious and carrying enough unknown technology to keep our labs occupied. We don't know what happened to you, and from what you've just said, neither do you. Give us some time."
Bardock's gaze travelled between them. "I need to find out where I am."
"We can help you with that."
"I can do it myself."
"You don't know this Earth."
"Then I'll learn, like any Time Patroller worth his salt."
"Time Patroller?" Bruce asked, filing that away as well as he tensed, sensing an unmistakable but subtle rise in tension around the boy. "What is that?"
"None of your business. Just who are you people anyway?" Bardock quirked an eyebrow. "Circus performers? One of you is dressed in a Halloween costume, the other like a glowing cucumber and you're wearing underwear on the outside." That last comment prompted the Kryptonian to look down, for the first time conscious of his suit. Granted it was a flight suit originally meant to go under armour but since he was invulnerable, he forewent the armour. "Whatever. I don't have time to play children's dress up. I'll thank you for the hospitality but if you don't mind terribly, I'm leaving."
Clark sighed quietly. "After we know you're well enough to leave."
Bardock's expression hardened again. "You keep saying I'm not a prisoner while standing in front of the door."
John's ring brightened slightly. "We're asking you to cooperate."
"No. You're telling me to cooperate politely, with total strangers."
Bruce saw Clark glance toward John. He saw Bardock notice it too. Whatever else the young man might be, he wasn't socially oblivious. More importantly, he was evaluating all three of them with the instincts of someone accustomed to confrontation. The calluses on his hands and the old injuries in his medical scans had already told Bruce he was extensively trained. Watching him now confirmed it.
The eyes were the most telling. They spoke of someone that had seen things. Bruce saw the same whenever he looked in the mirror at home. Bardock turned slightly and looked toward the far side of the station. Bruce followed his gaze. There was nothing visible through the wall except another Watchtower compartment, followed by several corridors and eventually Hangar Three.
Where they'd stored Bardock's belongings.
"Don't," Bruce said, not knowing how he could see them, unless his yet unidentified species could see through walls like Clark could.
Bardock looked back at him. "They're that way."
Bruce's suspicions crystallized. "You can sense them?"
"My sword's easy to find."
John moved his arm and a translucent green barrier formed across the exit. Bardock's attention immediately snapped toward it. For a moment his annoyance disappeared entirely, replaced by open curiosity. He walked over and pressed two fingers against the construct. Green light rippled around his fingertips as he increased the pressure, and Bruce saw John's arm tense when the barrier actually bowed outward.
"Interesting," Bardock murmured.
"Back away from it," John warned.
Bardock withdrew his hand, studying the fading ripples. "You make that with your own energy?"
"The ring does." John replied, clearly alarmed by something.
"I'd like to see how."
"Maybe when you're not trying to leave." He said as he readied a couple of batarangs.
Bardock gave him a faint, almost amused look. "Then move."
Superman stepped closer. "Bardock, enough. Nobody wants this to become a fight. Stay here for another hour, let us make sure you're stable, and we'll work out what happens next."
"I've already decided what happens next."
Bardock approached the barrier again.
Clark reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. It wasn't violent and Bruce doubted Clark was applying more than a tiny fraction of his strength, but the intention was unmistakable: Bardock wasn't going any farther.
The response was instantaneous.
Bardock's body turned beneath Clark's hand instead of pulling against it. One hand caught Superman's wrist while the other locked across his fingers, rotating the hand sharply outward while Bardock stepped under the arm. Bruce recognized the technique immediately. It was a simple principle used across dozens of martial disciplines: don't fight the grip, attack its structure. The wrist turned, the elbow followed, and Superman's hand was stripped cleanly from Bardock's shoulder before Clark had fully registered what was happening.
That alone impressed Bruce. Then Bardock punched the man of steel.
There was no wind-up. His fist travelled perhaps thirty centimetres before striking Superman squarely in the chest. The impact cracked through the medbay like an explosion, blowing the other two backwards as supplies and other medical ornaments smashed against the walls from the brief burst of pressure. Clark vanished backward, smashed through the wall behind him and continued through the adjoining compartment before crashing through a second partition in a storm of metal and insulation.
Bardock stood where he was, the front of his fist smoking.
"Don't…touch…me." The boy said firmly. "Only a fool lays hands on an unwilling Saiyan without expectation of reprisal."
Saiyan? That had to be the name of his species. Batman filed that away too along with the knowledge that even injured, one had just struck a standing Superman hard enough to send him through several layers of insulated re-enforced metal. Every alarm in the med bay activated at once. Red emergency lights replaced the white illumination as the Watchtower computer announced structural damage and emergency bulkheads began descending around the affected compartments. John reacted immediately, his ring blazing as he turned toward Bardock.
Bardock was already moving. He brought both hands up beside his face, fingers spread toward his temples. Bruce didn't recognize the stance, but the grin that briefly appeared on Bardock's face told him it wasn't defensive.
"Solar Flare!"
The room became a sun. Bruce's cowl polarized automatically, but the response came a fraction too late. White consumed his vision so completely that closing his eyes accomplished almost nothing. John shouted something beside him as his own vision was overwhelmed. Bruce heard a sharp displacement of air, followed by nothing at all.
"Computer, track Bardock!"
"Optical and electromagnetic sensors temporarily saturated. Target lock unavailable."
Bruce forced his eyes open as the cowl compensated. The featureless white gradually resolved into blurred shapes washed by the pulsing red emergency lights. Bardock was gone.
A new alarm immediately sounded.
"Security violation detected in Hangar Three."
Bruce was already moving when Superman came back through the damaged doorway, his uniform covered in dust and fragments of insulation. Clark looked irritated rather than injured, which told Bruce most of what he needed to know about the punch.
"He went for his belongings," Bruce said.
They were halfway down the corridor when the Watchtower reported another anomaly. Bruce pulled the hangar feed onto his cowl. The recovered footage showed Bardock appearing in the centre of Hangar Three without entering through any door. One instant the space was empty; the next he was simply there.
Teleportation.
Bardock crossed immediately to the containment platform, gathered his capsules and secured them, then reached for the enormous single-edged sword lying nearby. Watchtower equipment had been required to move the weapon safely to the hangar after they'd finished inspecting the house. Bardock lifted it one-handed and settled it against himself as casually as another man might pick up an umbrella.
John stared at the feed. "You've got to be kidding me."
Bardock glanced once toward the hangar camera, raised two fingers to his forehead and disappeared again.
"Computer, establish trajectory," Bruce ordered.
"No trajectory detected."
"Search the station."
"Subject no longer aboard Watchtower."
John raised his ring. "Ring, locate Son Bardock."
The answer came after only a moment. "Unable to establish current location."
Clark looked toward the observation windows at the end of the corridor. Earth filled much of the view beyond them, blue, green and white against the darkness. Bruce ordered a planetary scan. Several seconds passed before the Watchtower found anything at all: a brief fluctuation in the same unidentified energy associated with Bardock, appearing in Earth's atmosphere and disappearing almost immediately afterward.
"He didn't cross the distance," Bruce said. "He bypassed it."
"He teleported," John replied.
Clark rubbed the centre of his chest where Bardock had hit him. Bruce noticed the gesture immediately.
"How hard?"
Clark looked at him. "I'm fine."
"That wasn't the question."
"He caught me by surprise."
"Clark."
Superman glanced toward Earth before answering. "Not very hard, but it aches."
That was the answer Bruce had expected and the one he'd least wanted. Bardock had awakened in an unknown universe, discovered strangers had taken his possessions, been prevented from leaving and responded with precisely enough force to remove the obstacles in front of him. He hadn't attacked John when the barrier appeared. He hadn't followed Superman through the wall. Even the blinding technique had been used to create an opportunity to escape rather than to inflict damage. Bruce started toward the transporter.
John followed. "We're going after him?"
"We're finding him."
"He just punched Superman through two walls."
"After we blocked the exit and physically restrained him."
John gave him a sidelong look. "Are you taking his side?"
"No. I'm accounting for his."
Clark joined them as the transporter doors opened. Bruce brought the atmospheric reading onto his cowl again. Bardock was injured, stranded, frightened whether he admitted it or not, and somewhere on an Earth whose rules he didn't understand. Chasing him with overwhelming force would confirm every suspicion he'd apparently formed about them.
There was another problem. Bardock now had his sword, his capsules and whatever else they'd recovered from him. He had demonstrated the ability to sense objects through the Watchtower, escape Green Lantern containment, physically disarm Superman, generate enough force to send Clark through reinforced walls, blind an entire room and teleport from orbit directly to Earth.
And Bruce still had no idea what Son Bardock was capable of when he was actually trying.
"Find him." Batman said as the transporter doors closed.
-+-
-Son Bardock Jr-
Ow, ow, ow.
What the hell was captain underpants made of? I played it cool back there but I nearly broke my knuckles hitting him. And the shoulder where he grabbed me was actually aching like hell.
If his scent and standing didn't convey he was no human, then this did. He was an alien and freakishly strong at that. But that strength and durability completely belied the power level I sensed from him. It was lower than a human's yet the air around him felt different, like it was supercharged but not really.
He was certainly a living being, more so than the androids, but there was something else about him that I couldn't put my finger on. And that just brought on a whole new outlook on the reality I was in. What I sensed, didn't necessarily correspond to reality here. There truly were other forces and other powers at play. If I was at peak performance, I could have narrowed the causes down using my experience. But with all the feedback I was getting both from the universe around me and my own attempts to rekindle my honed senses, it was impossible to do right.
The energy generated by that mysterious ring that cucumber man had was a novelty too. It didn't feel like what I was accustomed to, though clearly mystical in nature, and flavoured with the resolve of that man. Energy constructs forged from his own will? Is that what the ring did?
If so, he was doing a shoddy job. I had a feeling I could have shattered that green wall with a flick. Or maybe that was just the measure of a Saiyan's resolve against that of a human. There was just no comparison. Speaking of energy, I winced as I tried to call on my own only to be rebuffed again. That confirmed it.
Delayed Onset Energy Disorder, DOED for sure. This was the worst case I'd suffered yet. Thankfully I wasn't shot enough to not be able to sense my belongings. Thank Zeno for Kansei's suggestion to hide smidgens of my own energy amongst my things so I could sense where they were.
Pulling out a scanner from one of my capsule's, I ran a scan over my surroundings to see if any networks would bounce back to me. Within seconds I got a result as the scanner beeped whilst I stood atop a small snowy peak. Apparently, I was down somewhere known as the Tibetan regions of China.
Huh, that name is familiar. I'm quite sure that was the name of a region of my Earth before at some point the planet came under one monarchy. I didn't pay too much attention during a brief history run down by Bulma. She can get a little too chatty sometimes, no matter how much I owe her,
Clenching my fist, I grimaced as I once again fruitlessly tried to summon my true power. Looking out across the small valley, I spied another small but solitary peak amidst the mountain range. Getting into a stance, I threw a precise jab in its direction, reinforced by what I could muster at the moment.
A shockwave exploded out of my fist and drilled right through that mountain before the top of it just crumpled, creating rolling sounds like thunder that reverberated across the mountain range, creating an avalanche in its wake as the huge chunks of rock that once made the peak of a mountain tumbled into the valley, taking some more of the mountain face with it.
I'm certain there aren't any human settlement nearby. But still, pitiful if that's all I could manage.
I slowly floated down to a cave I spotted on my way up here and made my way inside, setting up my portable house in it. My small pouch of Senzu beans were the one thing I hadn't managed to recover. Which is why I had a backup stash in one of those fancy urns Aunt Chichi got me as a 'first mission present'.
Pulling out my Time Patrol communicator, I tried connecting to all my fellow patrollers, even Chronoa. Nothing. Not even any alerts I sent out seemed to be received. Not the first time this had happened, but something told me it would be a while longer before I heard back from them this time.
Settling into bed after rolling a huge boulder to block the opening of the cave, I nestled into the covers. Rest was what I needed to get back into shape and shake off the DOED. I needed to regain even a shadow of my true strength if I was going to survive in this world and navigate the many powerhouses here.
But I could worry about that after I got some shut eye. Tomorrow, I would have to see about blending into the local populace to evade detection. The circus show up there would be no doubt on alert. I can only assume they were the run of the mill self-proclaimed protectors of their planet. I've had many examples to make that assumption this early on, starting with my uncle's merry little band.
Though strange costume's aside, these people seemed a tad more serious than Kakarot's ilk. And perhaps with even more diverse power sets. All in the daily life of the Future Warrior I guess.
Releasing all the tension, I settled into a comfortable sleeping position, the top brand bedding courtesy of Capsule Corporations facilitating a steady and pleasant descent into a reality of my own making…
-+-
I had been beaten badly enough that afternoon to make wanting a rematch seem like evidence of brain damage. Kansei had not merely won our first proper fight; she had dismantled me with the effortless precision only an Angel could manage, even one in training, smiling pleasantly while avoiding everything I threw at her and occasionally offering advice immediately before demonstrating why I needed it. At one point she'd caught my wrist, redirected my momentum and driven me headfirst into the ground hard enough to leave most of my upper body buried. Trunks had laughed until she'd casually suggested he could be next. He'd stopped laughing very quickly after that.
Several hours later, however, I had discovered something I enjoyed considerably more than being used to excavate Chronoa's courtyard.
Kansei lay against me beneath the sheets, her head resting partly on my chest and one blue leg comfortably tangled with mine. Her white hair had long since escaped whatever wild arrangement she'd put it into that morning and now spilled loosely over the pillow and across my arm. There was something strangely satisfying about seeing her like that.
Angels always seemed immaculate. Whis could spend an entire day training Kakarot, Vegeta and me without getting so much as dust on his shoes. Kansei was usually much the same, composed to the point that sometimes I wanted to throw something at her just to see whether she'd catch it. Now her hair was untidy, more than her usual calf length mane, the sheets were a mess, and one bare blue shoulder protruded from beneath them while I idly stroked my fingers over it.
Neither of us had said much for several minutes. I wasn't uncomfortable with the silence. If anything, I was surprised by how easy it felt. I'd spent enough of my life surrounded by noise—fighting, shouting, explosions, Time Patrol alarms, Beerus complaining, Whis criticising my footwork—that lying somewhere with absolutely nothing expected of me felt almost unnatural. Kansei's breathing was soft against my chest, and every so often her fingers moved lazily against my stomach as though she were tracing patterns without really thinking about them.
Eventually, because I'd never possessed Whis's talent for letting silence continue indefinitely, I said, "I want to do that again."
I felt her smile before I saw it. Kansei raised her head slightly, one violet eye opening as she regarded me with lazy amusement.
"Do you? You're awfully confident that I'd be interested in a second round, especially after I spent this afternoon kicking your ass."
I stared at her for a moment. "You made just as much effort dragging that same ass under the sheets."
That got exactly the reaction I'd hoped for. Her composed little smile broke into a laugh, warm and genuine, and she buried her face briefly against my chest before looking back up at me.
"Dragging you? Bardock, I touched your wrist and you followed me halfway across the building. Practically floated."
"You pulled."
"I guided."
"You can throw me through a mountain."
"Several mountains, if we're being accurate."
"Exactly. When a literal Angel grabs your wrist and starts pulling, that's not a suggestion."
Kansei's expression became magnificently innocent. "You could have resisted."
"I'd spent most of the afternoon doing that. Didn't work."
"Perhaps you finally learned something from your training then."
I snorted and settled farther into the pillow, continuing to run my fingertips over the smooth skin of her shoulder.
"Yeah. Pick your battles."
"A valuable lesson for a prospective God of Destruction."
"Didn't Beerus spend millions of years picking fights with people?"
"And look how well-adjusted he is."
Debatable.
I caught the hand resting on my stomach and loosely threaded my fingers through hers instead. Kansei allowed it without comment, which somehow made the gesture feel more intimate than everything we'd just done. Fighting I understood. Attraction wasn't particularly complicated either. This quieter part was different. There was no challenge in it, nothing to prove and nobody to beat. She was simply comfortable enough to lie against me, and I was comfortable enough to want her there. Considering what she was and what I was apparently supposed to become, there was probably something improper about it. That thought lingered until I frowned at the ceiling.
"Actually, now that I think about it, what we just did might be a little scandalous."
Kansei didn't move at first. Then she slowly tilted her head until she could look at me properly.
"Only now does that occur to you?"
"I was distracted."
"So I noticed."
"You weren't exactly concentrating on celestial regulations either."
"Perhaps I possess greater confidence in my ability to multitask."
I gave her shoulder a light squeeze. "I'm serious."
"So am I."
"No, you're not."
"No," she admitted, settling her cheek back against me. "Not particularly."
I shook my head, though I was smiling despite myself. "You're supposed to become my Angel attendant eventually. Your father's already made that pretty obvious."
"Father has indicated that he considers the pairing appropriate once you inherit Lord Beerus's position."
"That's what I said."
"It isn't remotely what you said."
"It's what he meant. I've spent enough time around Whis to understand Angel language. You lot say 'this arrangement may prove beneficial' when you mean 'I've already decided and nobody else gets a vote.'"
Kansei laughed softly. "You are learning."
"Against my will." I let my fingers wander slowly from her shoulder down the outside of her upper arm and back again. "But that's the problem, isn't it? Angels are supposed to be impartial towards their Destroyers, even if loyal. You're supposed to advise me, train me, keep me under control if I start acting like an idiot and probably report me if I become terrible enough at the job. I can't imagine sleeping with me is part of the standard arrangement."
"Not that I recall from my instruction."
"Comforting."
"There wasn't a chapter explicitly forbidding it either."
I looked down at her. "You're making that up."
"I am being technically accurate."
"That's a little worse."
She shifted onto her side so that she could see me without craning her neck, propping herself slightly against my chest. The movement caused the sheet to slip farther from her shoulder, and I automatically drew it back around her before resting my hand against her upper arm again. Her expression remained amused, but there was more thought behind it now.
"Impartiality doesn't mean an Angel is required to feel nothing toward the deity they attend, Bardock. Whis cares about Lord Beerus. Kusu cares a great deal about Rumsshi. Even Vados cares for Lord Champa even if it's unappreciated."
"Whis hides food from Beerus."
"Precisely. Healthy boundaries."
"He once put something in Beerus's dinner because Beerus ate the dessert he'd been saving."
"And did Lord Beerus steal his dessert again?"
I thought about it. "No. Not for a while after at least."
"Then it was effective guidance."
I laughed under my breath. "You people are terrifying."
"So I've been told." Kansei traced a fingertip idly along my ribs before continuing. "The important distinction is whether personal affection compromises duty. If I become incapable of telling you that you're wrong because I care about you, then there is a problem. If I conceal your failures, place your interests above the universe entrusted to us, allow you to neglect your responsibilities or refuse to correct you because doing so might upset you, then I would be failing as your attendant."
"And you don't think that'll happen?"
Kansei gave me a look so dry that I immediately knew what was coming. "Bardock, I kicked you through a cliff six hours ago because you kept dropping your left shoulder."
"Training."
"You called me an insufferable blue menace."
"You were being insufferable."
"And yet here we are. I don't believe affection has impaired my ability to correct you."
"Fair point."
"Indeed."
I was quiet for a little while after that. Her answer made sense, irritatingly enough. Whis had known Beerus longer than entire civilisations had existed and plainly cared about him, but that had never stopped him from criticising Beerus, refusing unreasonable demands or humiliating him during training. Maybe impartiality wasn't about having no personal connection at all. Maybe it was about being able to put the job first when it mattered. Still, there seemed a considerable difference between Whis enjoying Beerus's company and whatever Kansei and I had just spent the evening doing.
"So, what happens if somebody finds out?"
"Somebody almost certainly will."
That wasn't the answer I'd wanted. "You're supposed to reassure me."
"I'm an Angel, not a comfort blanket."
"Could've fooled me."
Her eyes narrowed, though she made no effort to move away. "Would you prefer a dishonest answer?"
"No."
"Then someone will probably find out eventually."
"Wonderful."
"Whether it matters depends upon whether it interferes with our responsibilities." She paused, and then the amusement returned to her expression. "Although there is a very straightforward method of reducing unnecessary scrutiny."
I knew from her tone that I wasn't going to like this. "Which is?"
"You'll simply have to work very hard to ensure Universe Seven maintains excellent performance ratings."
I stared at her. "What?"
"If our mortal level remains high, our civilisations develop properly, existential threats are addressed before they become embarrassing, and the Destroyer and Supreme Kai fulfil their respective duties competently, there will be little reason for anyone above us to conduct an unusually thorough review of Universe Seven's administration."
For several seconds I couldn't decide whether she was joking. The longer I looked at her, the more obvious it became that she was only half joking, which was somehow worse.
"So your solution is that I become such a good God of Destruction that nobody bothers looking closely enough to discover I'm sleeping with my Angel?"
"You're making it sound terribly improper."
"It is improper."
"Potentially."
"Kansei."
"Would you rather Universe Seven perform poorly?"
"That's not the point."
"It was near the bottom of the mortal rankings before the Tournament of Power. Second to last. I should think you'd be particularly motivated to avoid returning it to such an embarrassing position."
I stared at the ceiling and tried to absorb the absurdity of what she'd just proposed. Universe Seven had once come dangerously close to being erased in a tournament involving nearly every mortal universe under Zeno's authority. Kakarot and the others had fought for their lives to preserve it. Beerus had nearly lost everything because he'd spent millions of years sleeping instead of doing his job properly.
Now, apparently, when I eventually inherited that same office, there would be another reason to keep the universe's performance respectable: avoiding the kind of celestial inspection that might reveal the God of Destruction and his Angel attendant were sharing more than administrative responsibilities.
"That's insane," I finally said.
"It's excellent motivation."
"The future prosperity of Universe Seven cannot depend on me hiding our sex life from upper management."
"Then don't hide it."
I looked down at her.
She smiled sweetly.
"You're enjoying this."
"Immensely."
I groaned and dragged a hand over my face. "Whis is going to know immediately."
"Probably."
"Don't say that so casually."
"Why? He won't be particularly offended. Out of all my brothers, he's surprisingly open-minded."
"No, that's worse. He'll find it funny."
"Almost certainly."
"He'll do that smile."
"What smile?"
"You know the one. That little smile where he already knows everything but refuses to say it because he'd rather watch you slowly realise that he knows."
Kansei's shoulders began shaking with quiet laughter. "That is a remarkably accurate description."
"And then he'll make comments. Nothing direct. Just enough that I'll know he's doing it deliberately."
"For decades, probably."
"Centuries."
"Potentially."
I let my head fall back against the pillow. "I hate Angels."
"You seem to have a curious method of demonstrating it."
I turned my head and found her watching me with open amusement. "You're never going to let me win one of these conversations, are you?"
"I let you believe you're winning occasionally."
"That's worse."
"I know."
There was still one problem that made Whis's inevitable amusement seem insignificant by comparison. I looked at Kansei for several seconds before saying, "Your dad."
Her expression didn't change.
"That's all you've got?" I asked. "Nothing? Not even a little concern?"
"About Father?"
"Yes, about Father. Your father. The Grand Minister. The person standing directly beneath Zeno in the entire divine hierarchy."
"I know who my father is, Bardock."
"Then you understand there's absolutely no way he doesn't find out."
"Perhaps."
"Not perhaps. Whis will know. Your sisters will probably know. Beerus will eventually figure it out because Whis will keep making jokes he doesn't understand until somebody explains them to him. Then Kakarot will find out, which means everyone will know by lunchtime."
"That particular chain of events does seem plausible."
"And somewhere along the way the Grand Minister learns I've been sleeping with his daughter."
Kansei considered that with infuriating serenity. "Yes."
I waited, yet she said nothing else. "You're really not worried?"
"Should I be?"
"I don't know. I've never slept with the Grand Minister's daughter before."
"A sensible policy. There aren't many of us so available, or so willing."
I barked out a laugh before I could stop myself. "You know what I mean."
"I do." She moved closer again, resting her head beneath my chin while her arm slipped more securely across my middle. "And when Father discovers it, if he hasn't already, we will deal with whatever questions he has. I will answer for my conduct, and you will answer for yours. If our relationship ever interferes with my duties, then we will have a genuine problem. Until then, worrying tonight changes nothing."
I couldn't argue with that either. I hated when Angels made sense. It usually happened immediately after they'd spent several minutes deliberately winding me up.
My hand returned to her shoulder, thumb moving slowly across the bare blue skin while she relaxed against me. Tomorrow meant Chronoa, another Time Patrol assignment, whatever training Whis had planned for when I returned to Universe Seven and probably Trunks making jokes about the fight I'd lost. Farther ahead waited Beerus's position, responsibilities I wasn't entirely certain I wanted yet, and apparently an awkward conversation with the most powerful Angel in existence about exactly what I'd been doing with his daughter.
None of it needed solving tonight.
"Problem for another day," I murmured.
"An unusually sensible conclusion from you."
"Don't ruin it."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
For another minute we lay there quietly, and I found myself thinking again about how strange this part was. Not the sex. That had been surprisingly uncomplicated. This was stranger: Kansei warm against my side, my fingers intertwined with hers, her hair brushing my chin whenever she moved. I'd grown up in Hell. I'd spent years fighting things that wanted to kill me, then escaped into a life where most of the people around me seemed determined to turn me into something important. Legendary Super Saiyan. Future Warrior. Beerus's successor. Future God of Destruction. Even Whis rarely let me forget what I was supposed to become.
Kansei had spent the afternoon beating me into the ground and the evening treating me like none of those titles mattered very much.
I liked that.
Unfortunately, I also remembered where the conversation had started.
"So," I said.
Kansei made a quiet sound against my chest. "Hm?"
"Second round."
Her head rose slowly. "You really haven't abandoned that?"
"No."
"Even after everything we just discussed?"
"Your father's a problem for another day."
"How convenient."
"You agreed."
"I agreed that worrying about him tonight served little purpose. I did not agree that this automatically entitled you to anything."
"I know."
That seemed to surprise her slightly. I smiled and brushed a loose strand of white hair away from her face. "But you still haven't said no."
"Nor have I said yes."
"You also haven't moved."
Kansei studied me for several seconds. Then her hand came up and caught my chin, drawing me down until our foreheads touched. Her violet eyes were close enough now that I could see the amusement gathering in them again, accompanied by something warmer that she wasn't bothering to hide.
"You're awfully persistent for someone who lost so badly today."
I grinned. "I like rematches."
"That was hardly the same contest."
"Same principle."
"And what principle is that?"
"If I enjoy something, I want to do it again."
For once she didn't have an immediate clever answer. Her smile softened instead, and the hand against my chin slipped around the back of my neck.
"Such a wonderfully uncomplicated creature."
"Is that a yes?"
Kansei pulled me closer and I decided that was close an answer enough.
-+-
-(???)-
At the edge of the dream, where Bardock's memory had neglected to furnish the room beyond the bed, a tall, pale figure stood unseen. He watched the Saiyan lying beneath the sheets with the blue-skinned woman curled against him, listened to their teasing about Angels and Destroyers, to Bardock's complaints about her father and her dry insistence that the continued prosperity of an entire universe might be useful for avoiding unwanted scrutiny.
There was intimacy in the memory, but little embarrassment. Affection, amusement, the lingering satisfaction of combat and something softer Bardock had not yet bothered to name. The observer's dark eyes lingered upon Kansei for a moment.
"An angel," he murmured, though the word seemed to interest him more than surprise him. "But not one of ours."
When Bardock declared the Grand Minister a problem for another day and Kansei drew herself closer against his chest, the pale stranger turned away. The dream did not resist him. It simply opened, permitting its silent visitor to depart along paths that belonged to him alone. Before crossing the threshold, he glanced back once at the laughing young warrior and the angel in his arms.
"Your memories know gods I have never known, Son Bardock. Your dreams remember heavens that do not exist."
There was neither alarm nor accusation in his voice, merely the grave curiosity of one encountering something genuinely new after an existence in which novelty had become exceedingly rare. Then the King of Dreams stepped beyond the memory, leaving Bardock to his sleep, and when morning came there would be nothing within the Saiyan's recollection to suggest that his dream had ever contained three people.