Ruination of the Wind

Finally, Vocado could breath.

Their clash had only just started, but it felt as though they'd been fighting for days on end. Brutal blow after vicious strike left them both reeling, yet still they both stood. Lottus seemed to be suffering from ill effects due to his disease, but Vocado couldn't spare him the pity. It was pitiful, sure, but a monster needn't be mourned.

For the first time since the battle began, Lottus spoke. Vocado cocked a brow.

"Don't tug on heartstrings, bastard. I'll fight you how I please." His neck cracked as he rolled it, staring at Lottus all the while. His breaths began to regulate, but he could still feel the sting of fresh wounds. "I'll stop you here. Rend the flesh and toss your polluted gray matter in a machine body. Maybe there you'll learn some manners; listen to a single damn order I've ever given."

Damn. That royal tongue came loose again. His speech patterns always found a way to become verbose when he got pissed. Some holdover or another from his young years in the palace among nobles. Lottus was the first to do pull it forth in a long while.

"Plant needs stability, not slaughter. If we tear things down further it'll keep us from reaching the stars and fulfilling our purpose. I won't let you have your way just because you think you can."

His aura burst upward to match Lottus' own. A brilliant, defiant red in the face of pitch black malice. He was no hero. But he didn't need to be to win.

"I won't hear your excuses. The ramblings of a madman mean NOTHING to me. I can't fix you, and I sure as hell don't expect you to fix yourself. So let's get this over with."

Lottus charged, and Vocado loosed his Ki into a mighty shockwave. The buffeting winds kept the madman's flank attempt at bay, if only barely.

With that, he'd leap up, pointing his fingers down at Lottus and loosing a spiraling wave of orange Ki. An unpracticed form of a technique he'd been practicing, the wave exploded into a volatile explosion, covering the area in its glow. The destructive energy of the attack rivaled the uncaring nature of Lottus' own attacks. Would it be enough to put an end to this?

The sheer force of his own attack sent him further upwards. It was far stronger than he expected. Spurred on by an incomprehensible mixture of emotions, he could only focus on self-preservation, for trying to decode the mysteries of the newfound strength would surely spell his end.

---

Breath forced its way through Vocado's lungs. Keeping up with Lottus' efforts was proving difficult, especially considering he was intent on leaving the guy alive. That shred of mercy was starting to fizzle out, though. Bit by bit, the dark intent to end life snuck its way ever closer to the surface. Begging, pleading to be listened to.

Vocado barely had time to react when Lottus finally stood back up. He had been sure he'd have at least a second or two more to collect his thoughts, but the Saiyan was on him like a panther on dinner. Ears rang as blow after blow rained upon him. Pain receptors failed as nerves were silenced. This was it. Do or die.

The crack of bone. The sizzle of Ki on flesh. The screams of a pinned warrior.

Lottus took his ounce of blood and then some, leaving Vocado halfway to hell.

Vocado never considered himself to be much of anything. Good fighters came by the squadron, but aside from stumbling into leading a suicide squad, he hadn't accomplished much that anyone else in his position could've.

It was here, in this very moment, that those doubts and misconceptions vanished.

The mere fact that he could think those things in this moment proved it. He was still alive. The sharpest elbow in the universe couldn't put him down. Not without a fight. That was his strength. His will to survive. His determination to soldier on.

"You... Want... My best?"

Vocado spoke through harsh pulls for air. Blood pooled in wounds on his chest, spilling off his skin and into the grayed dirt that'd been revealed from countless explosions. Somehow, he found the strength to stand, pushing the last vestiges of his strength into the forefront. Swirling chi wisps from his body, the embers igniting and fizzling out moments after escaping him.

"Here's an order for you, punk..."

An energy ball appeared in his hand. Small and unassuming, the crimson power fit comfortably within his palm. It was this, the last ditch effort, that would decide the fate of the planet.

"Why don't you SHUT! YOUR! MOUTH!"

With a roar rivaling an Oozaru, he flung the ball across the expanse. This seemingly ineffectual attack suddenly engorged. Spurred by the force present in its creator, the ball's make became volatile. Swirling and shifting, the baseball-sized attack barreled toward Lottus, aiming to sock him square in the stomach and explode.

Vocado didn't see his attack succeed, for he had already fallen to a knee. Somewhere, he was sure he heard an explosion. After that?

Black.

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