Soundless Terror (Open)

A new law had been instated following the partial destruction of the moon and the attack on the President's life. And, of course, controversy would be quick to follow in the passing of this law: The registration of Warriors residing on, or visiting Earth, who were above a certain threshold of power. It would seem like a harmless action by the President to some. Others would view this as a violation of privacy, with splintered groups perhaps not liking the ever-present watchful eye of the Government.

Kombu held a battle of conflicting feelings within himself. One front of this conflict agreed with the President's actions. The partial destruction of the moon proved such a law would be beneficial to Earth. The attack on the King's Castle and the president's very life would appear to be the final straw that broke the camel's back. Such a law would protect the Earth from beings like Kowlin or other invaders and threats to the well-being of all.

The opposing feelings begged to ask how this did not violate the privacy of personal lives. How complications could arise from being on some kind of watch list.

The Saiyan, sporting his new suit of Saiyan Armor, sighed to himself, watching over the protest as it began. Ever a guardian to the planet he called home. In the end, he decided the new law would benefit all. It would keep heroes in check from going too wild within city limits as well as make consequences less lenient on those who sought to stir trouble. Of course, he followed this law without much of a choice. His involvement with defending the moon already made Derry aware of his presence. So the best option now would be to comply and become an official protector of the world.

Such a duty would entail incidents akin to the protest. To keep watch to make sure no one got hurt by unnecessary violence. Stepping in when required to protect the weak and defenseless as he always did. His senses stayed on high alert in case anyone would stir the pot and create mass mayhem.

And there it was. A burning source of power began to approach the stage. The hears on the Saiyan's body stood on end and his tail's fur fluffed in response to the potential threat. The man's keen eyes scanned the crowd in an attempt to pinpoint the source. Where could it be?

Kombu grimaced. Maybe if he rose his power to its fullest, it would deter the potential perpetrator. And so, he let go, allowing his energy to rise to its peak.

---

The Saiyan exhaled a breath of disappointment. His eyes stayed locked on the mysterious figure. And, of course, they would start to move toward their target. It was apparent now to Kombu just who that might be; The prominent protestor of this new Law.

Of course, it was only natural for there to exist beings of all backgrounds to protest the latest policy. There would always be those who agree or disagree on points in life. Kombu didn't hold anything against naysayers. On the contrary, he empathized with both sides, seeing good and bad in each viewpoint. It only started to matter when people became violent in the name of certain beliefs. And, in this case, it would appear that was just what was about to transpire.

Many who gathered were not quick enough to react, of course. But not many were Saiyans at his strength level. So Kombu saw the attack but mere moments before it would happen. And he would seem to have enough time to react. So just what would the aspiring Saiyan hero do?

Kombu's image suddenly faltered and dissipated. The Afterimage technique. One of Kombu's favorites. Afterimage was the practice of moving so swiftly that their own body seemingly disappears, only to arrive near-instantly in another spot. And, right now, the Saiyan required every ounce of speed that he could muster.

Kombu then suddenly appeared before the cloaked would-be Assasin and the rightfully-terrified protestor on the stage. And it so happened that the Saiyan was mid-tackle. He clamped his arms around the man's torso, where he continued to fly off like a rocket!

"Please remain calm!" Kombu pleaded, now setting the petrified man on the ground away from the crowd. "That person was making an attempt on your life. Now leave, and remain safe! Alert the local authorities!"

Kombu glared in the direction of the mystery being who remained on the stage. He lifted up his glove, to which he spoke toward the wrist.

"This is Kombu. I'm engaging a perpetrator with a Power-Level close to eighty-thousand. I'll try to bring them away from the city."

Now, he hovered toward the stage. "I'll offer you this one chance. Who are you, and why are you attempting to harm civilians?"

---

An angered snarl spread across the Saiyan's face. One which rivaled his enraged Oozaru form. This was not going to be as easy as he had initially hoped. But that was all fine to Kombu. He would decide to see this as a challenge. To test how strong he had become since the bout against Virus, Kowlin, and Kon. First, however, he would need to take the assailant's attention off of their target.

Kombu did not dare to fire wildly into the crowd. He'd have to face the charging bull head-on instead. Using his speed once again, the Saiyan relied once more on his speed to block the assassin's path. And settling this peacefully was no longer an option.

The Saiyan quickly materialized in front of Sesame and followed up with a mighty right hook to slam against his foe's face. And, whether it would hit or not, it would not be the end of his assault. More blows were thrown in rapid succession toward the cloaked figure. Each targeted different body sections in hopes of dealing some wear and tear; Ribs, arms, stomach, and face were all on the table. If he could get this guy angry, he might be able to lead him away from the crowded street. Or, at least, buy some time for civilians to evacuate.

---

The Saiyan was more of a brawler than a true tactician. All Saiyans were, deep down, or so he believed. Each combat strategy for Kombu was customarily created in the midst of combat. But it had to be said that one should ere on the side of caution against such a strong opponent.

This wasn't the first encounter with a powerful enemy. It certainly would not be the last for the Saiyan protector. At least now he had gained the tiny warrior's attention. Kombu would need to keep it that way while the civilians fled for their lives. But did that mean he would no longer care about winning? Of course not. Lives were on the line. And the hero had to make sure he put this assassin down or go down fighting.

"Not much for talking, are you?" The Saiyan chided. "Shame. It won't matter, anyway. Because I'm going to take you out."

The retaliation came almost too quick for Kombu to react. It was almost upon an instinct that he implemented yet another Afterimage. Yes, the blow would seem to hit the man right in the abdomen. Alas, his form simply shimmered away. And Kombu was now in a ducked position, legs wound up and ready to spring.

Kombu erupted upward with a mighty battle cry as he aimed to slam his fist right into the tiny terror's jaw. The uppercut, if it landed, would hopefully send Sesame into the heavens where the Saiyan would soon follow up with sending ki blast after ki blast from his palms. He'd be cautious not to destroy any of the city around them. But now there would be a bombardment of energy balls threatening to overtake Sesame.

---

Kombu was shocked he had even survived this long by all accounts. The last encounter with a fearsome foe left him severely crippled and critically wounded. He might still be out of commission if not for the aid of a friendly Shinjin. Could he even win this fight, he wondered? Possibly not. That was a realization he had come to terms with at the very beginning. And yet a part of being a hero was to sacrifice oneself for the safety of others. If Kombu could wear Sesame down, it may enable someone else to have an easier time tackling the challenge.

Kombu's counterattack failed. Sesame's erupting roar rendered the ki balls useless as they seemed to always be against powerful opponents. And with the cloud of smoke, Kombu lost his line of sight on his enemy. Just where would he end up? Kombu steeled himself and put up his fists in a defensive posture.

Alas, he was not ready for the next attack. One moment he stared at the smokescreen. In the next, he felt his gut suffering an aftershock with a fist heavily embedded underneath his ribs. What else was to be expected from someone so high in Power Level?

The armor thankfully absorbed a majority of the shock. But it didn't stop pain from firing off the Saiyan's receptors to send signals to the brain. Kombu was caught off-guard and with the air being expelled from his lungs. Quickly, he hopped back, holding his stomach in response. There would be some severe bruising later.

And yet it was in a Saiyan's nature to act cocky and prideful. So Kombu switched to a new tactic; get under Sesame's skin. Make him slip up somehow in the bout. It may have been Kombu's only hope.

"Surely you can hit harder than that," the hero goaded. "Or is someone in such a tiny body incapable of harming even an ant? I mean you didn't even scuff up my armor."

Maybe he could even convince Sesame to follow him to a more remote locale. Only one way in finding out.

"I get the feeling that you're holding back," Kombu surmised. "Would you prefer if we take this somewhere else? Where we'll have no limits?"

---

Finally. The Saiyan could now rest easy knowing innocent bystanders wouldn't be put into the line of fire by stray attacks that would miss their mark. And what's more, he had no more worries about holding himself back for the sake of preventing property damage. That did seem to be a constant with beings of his power and above.

So Kombu would lead the chibi assassin out of the city. Sesame's target was now safe. It would all come to a head in a brutal battle to achieve victory.

The Saiyan did not have to fly far. It was only a short distance to the wilds of red and orange hues with splotches of green every now and again—a locale of sediment and gravel frequented by many fighters, both old and new. The Gizard Wasteland was an area scarred by the feats from many fights. Each blemish of the land told a story to those who could see the patterns and not mistake it as natural diminishment.

Kombu landed gently atop a mesa as he kept his gaze locked onto the unreadable fighter.

"Before we start," he began, pulling on his left arm to stretch the muscles and prime them for combat, "I want to thank you for letting me take the fight here. You can understand how it feels, regarding the need to hold back in crowded areas. Afraid that if you breathe hard enough you can shatter the glass of buildings. To feel like a giant among ants, pulling punches so you don't decimate a regular person's body."

Now the other arm was being stretched. "Your target got away. So you may be wondering why I'm even still fighting instead of fleeing myself? Principal," Kombu answered. "Pride. Attempting to finish what I started. Even if it lands me with my face in the dirt, beaten and bloodied. I protected someone's life today. I can die knowing I accomplished that. Knowing that I stopped you."

Now there was a nagging question at the forefront of his mind. "Could you at least settle my curiosity?" he requested. "Why did you attempt to take that man's life? The one who was leading the protest? What would you gain from it? You'd only be proving the point of the new law."

---

First came the heavy smack that racked Kombu's brain within his skull. A minor crack embedded itself into the bone. Then came the flurry of blows to his torso. Kombu had no time to react. Every third hit caused more breaking and shattering of bones. And, with being caught off guard like this, all he could do was tank each blow. Maybe he was in over his head. Every signal of pain being shot through his nervous system etched that notion deeper and deeper into Kombu's soul. Was this a foolish endeavor? Absolutely.

But it was still the right thing to do.

The Saiyan rocketed backward into a wall of red sandstone. His body itself made an imprint. He appeared stuck, bloodied, and breathing heavily while he tried to recover.

"Damn it...!" came a heavy grunt from Kombu's mouth between the labored breaths. "That hurt a bit...Fuck."

A confident smirk then spread over his lips. "I will always get back up," he said defiantly, freeing himself from his shallow would-be grave. Kombu's head tilted until an audible pop could be heard. "You think you're the first person to try and dissuade me from what I do? I have news for you. You're not. And you won't be the last."

The Saiyan took one step forward and popped his left shoulder back into its socket. A quick wince flashed over his face before his look became severe again.

"You have it all wrong. I'll never stop doing the right thing. I'll never stop putting my life on the line to defend someone else. And you know what? I'll never stop challenging bastards like you who take lives thinking they'll get away with it."

The Saiyan suddenly shimmered before appearing right in front of the tiny warrior. He stood tall and menacing over the assassin. "And you're not getting away with this one."

Kombu would throw a heavy haymaker toward the assassin's face as he bellowed an angered roar. He'd follow up with a left hook, shouting again to amplify the punch, aiming for the left shoulder. Then a torrent of fists would attempt to slam into Sesame. The man punched so fast it would appear that hundreds of fists materialized into existence. The Saiyan screamed all the while as he poured his energy into each and every punch!

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