Ruination of the Wind

There was an unease in Vocado's heart as he listened to the incoming message. Lottus, the wildcard he had been, was rather manageable some few months ago. When rumblings of unease hit the city, and civil war was still a minor concern. But that time had passed. Most things had shifted drastically around here. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if one of the Saibamen was going to get a crown next.

It wasn't long before he arrived. A streak of red Ki burning across the wastes, Vocado touched down opposite his old friend. Two things were instantaneously clear. The first of course, was that Lottus had grown in power tremendously, and the other, was that whatever condition he suffered from had become severe.

"Lottus." He regarded him with a a rising nod. "Kept busy, I see. Made some new friends while I was out, I've heard."

Even now, before they'd actually said more than a handful of words to one another, he could feel the tension. Fury was one of Lottus' defining traits, and it was clear that time had only heightened its grip on his psyche.

There was a part of him that considered loosing a blast now. To skip the pleasantries and get to what Lottus really wanted. But he held his fist for now.

---

Vocado stood solemnly, a sour yet unwavering expression as his friend explained the chaotic plan he’d concocted. Burning Hatchi to the ground. Razing the land and leaving not a single Tuffle alive. A few years ago, Vocado wouldve jumped at the idea. Hell, a couple weeks ago he might’ve clapped hands with Lottus and shook firm their alliance.

But Vocado hadn’t had this as his vision for the future. A well-oiled war machine was what he wanted. For the Saiyans to fight their fill and be unstoppable in the process. This was anything but.

”Lottus… I’m sorry.” There was genuine emotion in his words. Sadness bordering on pity. ”We’re warriors. Saiyans are built for conquest. To wage war and win. It’s our birthright. But this? This isn’t war. This isn’t conquest. This is destruction. Wanton violence for… For what? Because you’re gonna die?.”

The sorrow swallowed itself. Turned itself in for contempt. ”Well boo-fuckin’-hoo! News flash, jackass, but we’re all destined for the grave. You think just because your brain’s a little fuzzy that you can let yourself get led around on a leash by some green-skinned con artist?!”

He took a step forward, hand balling into fist with a clench that was tight enough to cause some pain. ”Wake up! This isn’t what we joined the army for! It’s not what you’re born to do! Fight and die all you want, but at least try and accomplish something instead of wasting your glory days on some revenge quest!”

This was Vocado’s only true way to get to Lottus. Pleas and sorrowful speeches would be spat back at him. Besides; this was how he really felt. Why hide it from a man who fought in the trenches alongside him? Soldiers like them knew the true cost of battle.

His rage turned to disgust. He knew Lottus was going to be impossible to convince, but this was on another level. His body shuddered as the crazed berserker went on and on, explaining and excusing his actions. A sneer clawed its way onto his lips, and his Ki expulsed to match Lottus' own building power.

"Don't kid yourself."

There were a thousand things he could've said. Chastise. Belittle. Demean the fool and be done with it. But that wasn't the Saiyan way. It wasn't how he'd get through to Lottus.

"Just shut up and fight."

Muscles bulged against skin as Ki erupted. His power, his anger, both boiling to their maximum. Buffeted by his foe's own expansion of Ki, he resisted its temperament-altering effects, fueled by his own sense of justice. His own feelings of betrayal. Part of him did indeed feel betrayed. How could Lottus have fallen so far?

Maybe it was Vocado's fault. Just another friend lost due to him.

He rolled his arms, the bones in his shoulders clicking and popping into place as his hand stretched forwards. Closing the hand, his knuckles crackled with Ki, and, with a thrust, the fist erupted a massive wave of righteous energy.

It soared across the landscape, roaring as it coalesced into a thick beam that threatened to swallow Lottus whole and end this charade before it could begin.

---

Damn! Of all the people to start strong with, it should've been obvious that Lottus would be one to face it head-on. The crazed warrior broke through the wave, taking the damage as a gift and pushing forward to begin his own assault. Vocado grimaced, bringing his arms up mere moments before the blast made contact.

An explosion rippled across the ruins. This unfortunately common occurrence rattled the foundations of toppled buildings, and shattered what little remained of the glass in the windows.

Vocado huffed, but despite the pain he did not relent. Instead, he pushed a hand across the smog and cut through it, revealing his burn-ridden state. Brown and black marks riddled his skin, and a few cracks had found their way into his armor. Par for the course, one might imagine, for these two.

With a leap, the Saiyan Commander blazed across the short distance between them, aiming a flying knee for the destron-drunk Saiyan's jaw! Ki would sizzle at the edge of his form, helping to rocket his attack toward the madman.

But it was a distraction. The showy strike was most likely to be evaded or even caught, but that was the intention. In either scenario, Vocado would have a solid sightline on Lottus with which to fire off an energy bullet from his wrist-mounted blaster. Fueled by ammunition crafted with his own Ki, these shots would be more than just a minor annoyance.

The bullet tore across the space, aiming to thump against the Saiyan's chest and send him stumbling back.

---

Things were getting hot and heavy now.

With how intensely the pair's powers had grown, brawls like this weren't ones to go unnoticed. Letting loose was akin to lobbing missiles at one another. Their power may have been mighty during the war, but this? This was unlike anything the Saiyans of old had ever accomplished. Vocado was certain that the mythical was becoming reality.

Though his plan had succeeded, Lottus wasn't one to take such things sitting down. With a quick set of brutal motions, Vocado found himself caught in the beast's trap, a dizzying string of fists and elbows hammering into him. He took the beating with dignity, grimacing but never letting his pain flow through a shout nor whimper of pain.

There was a gap in the action. However slight it may have been, Vocado was suddenly presented with a choice: lose his weapon, or lose some teeth.

Letting the cannon be crumpled was an easy decision. The moment it took for Lottus to turn his attention to it was enough for Vocado to find his opening. Leaning back, he evaded the next blow by a fraction, and brought a fist soaring toward his friend's gut. Next, a quick kick at the pinning leg's side to loosen its footing, which would hopefully be enough for Vocado to slip his own foot loose.

Should he succeed, he'd backflip a half-dozen times, leaping skyward to somersault backwards and gain distance. From here, he'd wrench the broken machine off his arm, and chuck it as hard as he could!

The smoking machinery hissed and crackled, brimming with Ki it could no longer contain. With this, he imagined it'd still pack enough of a punch to piss his opponent off.

---

Huffs of breath, labored even now, came from Vocado. This was intense. Fighting Tuffles in the trenches was one thing, scraping by attacks against an Arcosian was another, but this? A duel of fate with your long-standing comrade? The emotions were tense. Hesitation mixed with determination in a swirl of unease in his stomach.

He didn't want to hurt Lottus. Not really, anyways. Vocado wanted Lottus to fail and surrender. To clear the Destron from his soul and see the error of his ways. But it wouldn't happen. Saiyans were too stubborn, and Lottus triply so.

When the crazed warrior launched skyward, Vocado readied himself. He hunched low, and twirled in a strange way mid-air, flipping his body to evade the tackling missile strike by inches. Floating just below Lottus, his spinning motion would contort itself into a twist of his tail, aiming to smack directly into the destron-stained Saiyan's chest and send him hurtling skyward.

Past the destron. Past the smog-infused clouds and into the clear skies. Blood red and intense, but free of the sickening air.

If they made it that high, Vocado would continue the assault with another peppering of energy bullets. Rapid-fire shots, designed to frustrate more than cause proper damage. He needed to keep Lottus on the offensive; tire him out, and then go in for the kill.

---

Up here, things almost seemed peaceful.

The swirling destron clouds below told a tale of desecration. Violence caused by two races who could not see eye to eye. And here was a pair of the aggressors, beating one another bloody. What did it prove? Something about it gave Vocado a sickness to his stomach. He usually relished in fighting, but with each blast dealt, each fist thrown, he could sense his bloodlust diminishing.

Lottus let his Ki erupt yet again, a ball the size of a mountain conjured in seconds. Something like that would've taken minutes to pool energy for, if not hours, but in their current states it was little more than a thought needed to summon such concussive, explosive power.

Vocado looked up at the ball as he crested a particularly thick cloud, and felt a pounding deep within. Something drove him to fight. Something other than bloodlust or pride. Justice? No. He'd figure it out soon, though.

As the ball neared, he felt his Ki rise. Involuntarily, he felt the urge. To fight. To win. He had to. Honor, pride, duty. All of it be damned. This was willpower.

His body vanished in a blur, and the ball moved undisturbed toward the ground, where it exploded in a fiery display. The plume pushed past the clouds, dirtying the air above the ruins ever further.

"BASTAAAAARD!"

Shuttering movements came with the roar, and Vocado returned to view. No trickery here; he didn't come from behind nor above, but rather dead ahead. His fist, wreathed in fiery Ki, aimed to clock Lottus across the jaw. It'd send a shockwave across the skyline, blowing away clouds and bring whipping winds to their airborne arena.

His assault wouldn't end there. A right hook to the cheek, a flurry of jabs at the midsection, and a few elbows here and there came in a dizzying display. He was emboldened. Pushed-- No, FORCED to act. The adrenaline that urged him was otherworldly. And there was that tingle, too. He felt it in his spine. A scratch he couldn't itch. This would fix it, surely.

One final knee came up to double the Saiyan beast over, followed by a double axe-handle to the back to send Lottus flying back into the glassed grounds below.

---