Shades of the Coming Storm

”You sure are talkative for a guy with no masters to answer to.”

The shadow of a yawning thing stretched long over a thick spike hanging far above Lottus. Its form slowly dripped from the stalactite, before fully leaking onto the ground before the Saiyan. The black pool would blink, somehow, eyes redder than the skies of hell. It squinted as it looked him over.

”But I guess you lot love doing that. The big bad folk.” The puddle slinked into itself, and sprang up. The silhouette of a lithe man could be seen in the foggy shape, its arms crossed as if it were very, very mysterious. ”You are one of the bad folk, right? You certainly look the type.”

Erebos wasn’t sure why he was here. He certainly hadn’t died; not by a long shot, in fact. The last thing he could remember was being on Namek. He’d activated that spell he’d been working on, and now… He must’ve expended too much magic all at once. It rushed to his head like when you do a handstand too long after drinking six sodas.

Either way, being presented with an opportunity to tease a dead guy was something he’d definitely not miss out on.

Wiggling his fingers in greeting, the Demon subtly manipulated Lottus’ shadow from a distance, morphing it to have a party hat with his magic.

With a light hop, he let himself float just above the ground, sitting cross-legged across from the Saiyan. ”So who got your guts all chopped up, huh?” His form solidified now that he’d properly finished waking up. His body, still full-black, looked as though you were perceiving the inside of your own eyelids.

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”Sure. Monster works, if that’s what you like.”

His body lowered to the ground, before sinking straight through the rock. His voice echoed out, bouncing off the rock formations as if he were standing in front of Lottus. But his being moved through the shadows, slinking and dancing where the light hadn’t reached.

”I suppose you could say that. Though, it’s just as rude to be dead and try to act tough. Don’t you think?”

Erebos giggled, peeling himself free from a leaning pillar not far from their meeting place. The fluctuations in his Ki were beginning to slow, now. Whatever oddity hampered his power was beginning to stifle itself.

”The name’s Erebos. Erebos Herosbane, to be precise. Always a pleasure to meet a ‘killer extraordinaire’.”

From the dark corners, he pulled strings. Black webs that pooled in his palms before stretching out. They spooled out from his knuckles and down to his legs, where the webs weaved a pair of lounge chairs, and a dainty umbrella. The furniture was a mute gray, though the fabric was rather comfortable.

”Not a king, I’m afraid. Just a prince. Dubious in all the ways my kin doesn’t like. Suppose you’re in a similar boat, eh? What with the whole halo situation going on.”

Super Saiyan… why did that ring a bell? An old maid’s tale, perhaps? Something the kids spoke of in hushed whispers around the campfire?

Draping himself over one of the chairs, he summoned a pair of coconuts, one clutched in both palms and each cracked open and filled with a mysterious blue liquid. Ice floated among the concoction. Offering one to Lottus, he began to sip idly on his own. If Lottus were to partake, he’d note that it was a rather numb flavor, and though the alcoholic content was noticeable, it wasn’t a shock to the system.

”In case you were wondering, Heaven isn’t that much better. The difference is more like that of a three-star to a five-star hotel. That and the staff are a bit nicer, I imagine.”

If only he could get a proper bead on this guy. He seemed the too-serious type. Always rasping on about how evil he was. But Saiyans were never so simple. Marrow proved that much, and Amara… wait, was Amara a Saiyan? Maybe not. He’d have to check on that some day.

”Super Saiyan’s an interesting title. Why not go for Ultra Saiyan? Or perhaps Omega Saiyan? Too flashy for you, I suppose.”

”I’m sure those weak folk would consider it downright insulting. Though I suppose they can’t talk back much, on account of you crushing them and all.”

Rather unsurprisingly, Lottus evaded the chair and the drink. Like the prowling beast he deigned himself to be. Surely he thought the chairs to be shadowy cages; snares of a hidden sort. In truth, Erebos could indeed close the chairs in on themselves, but Lottus wasn’t free from the shadows simply because he hadn’t sat down. His own shadow was a weapon, as much as the leaning pillars and cracked stones dotted across the mountainscape.

Lottus was clearly the inquisitive sort. A dark monster, with the intelligence to match the claws. Perhaps he was as dangerous as the moniker implied.

”Oh absolutely. The veil between dimensions is thinner than you’d think, pal. All it takes is the right combination of Shoki and determination. Plus some magical know-how.” The Demonic Shade flourished his hands, and a swirling portal spawned in his palm. Shortly after, the portal vanished.

”I’ve helped a few folk live again,” he explained, perhaps exaggerating the truth. Indeed, he’d given Amara some clues how to escape when she died, but he wasn’t there for the actual attempt. ”Perhaps I can help you, too.”

The coconut drinks sank into the shadows.

”If I want to, that is.”

With a lazy wave of his hand, the chair floated off the ground, slowly spinning upside-down so that Erebos could gaze at Lottus from above. His hair draped off the chair, nearly hitting the terrain despite him being a few feet above.

”So, if you could give yourself a title, what would it be? Surely ‘Super Duper Saiyan’ isn’t precisely high on your list of things to call yourself.”

”You know, for as smart as you seem, you should’ve figured out the whole dead or alive thing without having to do field tests.” Erebos tapped his forehead, and in turn, Lottus would hear a tinking sound as something tapped against the halo above his massive mane of Saiyan-black hair. ”That’s the signal, you see. The halo? It denotes if you’re a soul mimicking a body, or without one, proves that you’re a regular old living being.”

Lottus was certainly interesting. His speech almost sounded like a demand. Erebos would help him? Maybe. As it was, he seemed more bluster than power. Common house cats were more threatening than the prowling corpse that tried to put his little scare tactics on display. Surely this was how he survived long enough to be killed.

Deals, the Saiyan mentioned, were a demonic favorite. Erebos had made a few in his younger years.

”Hmm. I’m not quite sure you’ve earned a deal in my eyes. Sure, you’re all tough sounding, and you circle around like a zoo animal that’s been taught how to look mean… but I don’t really feel it. Not the right way.”

The chair vanished, and Erebos landed on a single hand. One of his knees sprouted a pair of eyes, and slowly, the body’s limbs shifted shape, trading places so that the Shadowmancer was now standing on one foot.

”Why not tell me this: what do you really want? Say you get out. Kill those who wronged you or what have you, but then? Gonna conquer the universe, maybe blow up a few planets? Surely you’re not so blasé. Give me something real. Something worth paying attention to.”

The speech began, and with it, a display of power. Bluster and bravado in all its forms could never match the brilliance on display. Winds whipped and shadows sizzled away. Erebos’ own form lost a thin layer of darkness, but it reformed quickly. Covering his eyes briefly, he quickly adjusted his stance to have both hands on his hips, a silent watcher as the monologue continued.

Proud and loud. The very essence of a Saiyan.

As the winds died off, Erebos clapped, lazily. Slow and echoing. Not quite a golfers clap, but something akin to someone half-asleep remembering they were supposed to applaud when the sign lit up.

”Four out of ten. The gold hair is a nice touch, but I think blonde went out of style a few millennia ago. Maybe that’s where the legend comes from.”

Summoning a shadowy pillar behind him, he leaned against it while looking Lottus over. Last he recalled, Saiyans turned into giant apes. Maybe he’d ask Nasu if this whole gold thing was a new form they learned about. Either that or Lottus was a mutant of some kind.

”Sounds like a pretty bland plan if you ask me. Like a tale told a dozen times over to you from a hundred different generals.” He waved his fingers, and a miniature marching band spawned from his ankle. All twenty of them styled like Lottus in overly complicated armor. The myriad of instruments played a quiet tune as they stomped forward. ”You’ll be the best warrior ever. Because your Saiyan blood tells you to? Or because you were forced to be by your poor upbringing? Maybe because the big bad drill instructor whipped you into shape; demanded you to be strong? When’s the last time you did something that you actually wanted to do?”

The Lottus copies all flexed, dropping their instruments, and did battle.

”No Kings, No Masters. Just the strings they left behind that you forgot to cut.”

Sharp words. Ones that might elicit a violent outburst. Erebos prepared for battle in his favorite way: by doing nothing at all.

An outburst of violence did indeed come, but not so wild as expected. There was something to this guy; he wasn’t lost to the wilds of power just yet. Having been victim to the corruptive element of raw strength time and again, Erebos, perhaps, saw a bit of himself reflected in the golden hue. Despite the threats, Erebos remains unmoving, keeping viciously determined eye contact with the Saiyan.

”You want to decide your fate? Then decide.” His statement is punctuated by the slow drip of his skin. The black ooze begins to melt. ”Death isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, but it gives you time to think. For yourself. Not what your superiors said you should think, and certainly not what your opponents mocked you with.”

When the goo finally melts away, Erebos’ true visage is revealed. The pale face and ice-white hair a stark contrast to the darkness he holds dear. His piercing yellow eyes soften their gaze, and he reaches a hand out for a handshake.

”I’ll help you escape. If only because you cursed out the Kais.” Giggling capriciously, he shrinks his hand to escape Lottus’ grip shortly after the shake. ”But you’re not ready. Not for a while, at least. With your minimal knowledge you could accidentally erase your entire existence if we even attempt it.”

Part of his knowledge of the bridge between realms was theoretical. Having only moved across the veil as a living being made it hard to know the exact steps a soul needed to take. In truth, they could’ve probably tried to escape this very moment, but their chance for success was less than a flea’s hope for survival in a vat of acid.

”Try meditating. Focusing your inner chi. Not your spiritual force, but the life force within; the Shoki that resides beneath the aura.”

It was hard calling these things by mortal terms. Demons liked to use Kili as a catch-all for any type of spirit force, but the living realm, especially Namekians, were far more complex about their spiritual connection.

One day, he’d have to thank Nero for not trying to kick him off that little planet.

”Maybe while you reflect you can… I dunno. Think for yourself for once, eh?”

A lengthy reply from the Saiyan. It was a tad surprising, but then again, given his power output, the vultures of the underbelly would be attracted to something so fresh in the pits. Bending this soldier to their whims— tugging on the strings, as they say.

”A gum ball, a Kai, and a coward offered you advice? Sorry I didn’t get here sooner pal; you’ve been getting wrung out by all manner of schmoozers.”

This was certainly interesting. Who were those others he mentioned? A rogue Kai in particular was no good. Evil, chaotic, or misguided, they had the most potential for bad deeds. Creation magic was bad news. Maybe he really could tug Lottus’ strings, enough so to meet with and deal with all these no-good punks.

Wait a minute— what was he on about? Dealing with villains didn’t matter. Unless they had a bead on Namek or maybe Konats, what did he care? The purse of his lips betrayed his thinking process, but he quickly came to the conclusion that he liked the universe more than he’d initially intended to. Keeping its laws from being warped was a good idea.

Luckily for Lottus, though, his powers of golden hair didn’t do much to bend reality, so Erebos had no intention of beating the tar out of him for now.

”So you seek revenge instead of your love? You just found out that the afterlife isn’t what you thought, and you didn’t think to find Rapini? Talk about a one-track mind.” He tapped his feet impatiently. This wasn’t just a playful gesture, though; it was a subtle somatic component to one of his spells. Should Lottus lash out, Erebos could quickly whip up a wall of darkness.

”Weaker men then you or I have found ways to break the barrier. You don’t think you can do the same for your sweet? Hell, there’s ways on the living realm to bring people back!” Was that true? Maybe. He never actually looked into it, but all those robots running around were a clue at the mechanical and mystical being closer brothers than one might think. Plus, there were plenty of magicians out there who knew a thing or two about resurrecting.

With a hand rubbing his chin, he pondered his next move.

”Tunnel vision will ensure your soul withers out before any chance at vengeance. Some of those names you mentioned definitely would use the chaos you cause to cause further tragedies. Make more Lottus’ lose their Rapini. Is that what you really want?”