The forest was silent. Not the peaceful silence of nature, but the terrified silence that follows a predator.
I moved through the trees, not walking on the ground, but stepping from shadow to shadow, my body dissolving and reforming with every stride. The Chaos Reactor in my chest hummed low, suppressed to a dull throb so I wouldn't announce my presence to every scouter or sensor within ten miles.
I was tracking the Dragon Ball signal, but I was also tracking a fading life force.
"Goku," I whispered.
I found him in a clearing. The Nimbus cloud was gone—destroyed. The wreckage of the forest lay around him.
Goku lay face down in the dirt. His orange gi was torn, his chest bore the bruises of a brutal beating, and his breathing was shallow. Beside him lay the shattered remains of the Flying Nimbus.
"Pathetic," I rasped, stepping out of the shadow of a large oak tree.
Goku didn't move. He was unconscious. Starved. Beaten.
I knelt beside him. I placed a clawed hand on his back. I could feel his Ki flickering like a candle in a hurricane. He had rushed off without eating, fueled only by rage, and he had paid the price against Tambourine.
"He is alive," I noted. "Barely."
I looked up. The sky was darkening. Tambourine was long gone, having taken the Dragon Ball and list of martial artists.
"Saibot," I called.
My shadow clone materialized, looking down at the fallen Saiyan. We eat him?
"No," I growled. "We need him. King Piccolo is too strong for me right now. My Power Level is 850. Old King Piccolo is roughly 260 of raw power, but his magic... his ability to spawn children... it makes him an army. And once he restores his youth, he hits 2600. I cannot bridge that gap alone."
I needed Goku to fulfill his destiny. I needed him to drink the Ultra Divine Water.
But I couldn't just leave him here. The wolves—the real ones, not the metaphorical ones—were returning now that my presence was focused elsewhere.
I reached into my belt pouch. I pulled out a Senzu Bean. I had stolen a small supply from Korin years ago and had been hoarding them.
I crushed the bean into powder and forced it into Goku's mouth.
"Wake up, monkey."
Goku coughed. He swallowed.
Instantly, his Ki flared. His eyes snapped open. He sat up, gasping for air.
"KRILLIN!" he shouted, looking around wildly. "WHERE IS HE?! I'LL KILL HIM!"
He saw me. He froze.
"Mr. Saibot?" Goku blinked, confused. "What are you doing here? Where's the monster?"
"The monster beat you," I said coldly, standing up. "He took your ball. He destroyed your cloud. And he left you for dead."
Goku touched his chest. The pain was gone, but the memory wasn't. He clenched his fists, tears welling up in his eyes.
"I... I lost," Goku whispered. "I couldn't hit him. He was too fast."
"You were hungry," I said. "And you were angry. Anger makes you sloppy. Hunger makes you weak."
I turned my back to him.
"Get up. There is a smell of fish nearby. We eat. Then we hunt."
The Campfire
We sat by a fire I had started with green magic. A giant river fish—which I had speared with a shadow tendril—was roasting on a stick.
Goku ate like a starving animal. He finished the entire fish in seconds, bones and all.
"I feel better!" Goku patted his stomach. "Thanks, Mr. Saibot. You saved me again."
"I am investing," I said, staring into the green flames. "Tambourine is heading to gather the Dragon Balls for his master. King Piccolo wants eternal youth."
"King Piccolo..." Goku frowned. "Roshi talked about him. He's really bad news, huh?"
"He is a Demon King," I said. "He ruled the earth centuries ago. He is pure evil."
"Like you?" Goku asked innocently.
I paused.
"No," I said. "I am not evil. I am... necessary. Piccolo destroys for pleasure. I destroy for order. There is a difference."
Suddenly, a rustle in the bushes.
Goku spun around, ready to fight. "Who's there?!"
A fat man with a katana stepped out. He looked terrified.
Yajirobe.
He had a Dragon Ball hanging around his neck. The One-Star Ball.
"Hey!" Yajirobe shouted, waving his sword. "That was my fish! I saw you catch it! You owe me breakfast!"
Goku blinked. "Your fish? It was in the river!"
"I was stalking it!" Yajirobe yelled. He looked at me, and his face went pale. "Whoa... what is that?"
"I am the one who cooked the fish," I said, my green eyes flaring. "Do you want to be the next course?"
Yajirobe squeaked and hid behind his sword. "Okay, okay! Keep the fish! Just don't eat me!"
"He has a Dragon Ball!" Goku pointed.
"Yeah, and it's mine!" Yajirobe snapped.
"Perfect," I stood up. "We use it as bait."
"Bait?" Goku asked.
"Cymbal is coming," I said, sensing the approaching evil Ki. "Another one of Piccolo's children. He is hunting the balls. He will come for this fat man."
Yajirobe looked offended. "Hey! I have a name! It's Yajirobe!"
"Silence, bait," I said.
I sensed it. A heavy, lumbering energy.
"He's here."
From the sky, a massive, green, dragon-like humanoid descended. Cymbal.
He landed with a thud, cracking the earth. He looked like a gargoyle that had eaten too many cheeseburgers.
"Give me the Dragon Ball," Cymbal demanded, his voice deep and gravelly. "Or die."
Goku stepped forward. "Is this the guy who killed Krillin?"
"No," I said. "This one is weak. Tambourine is the assassin. This one is the heavy lifter."
"Hey!" Cymbal roared. "I am a warrior of the Demon Clan!"
"I'll handle him!" Yajirobe shouted, suddenly brave. "He looks tasty!"
"Wait," I raised a hand. "Goku. You need to redeem yourself. Fight him. But do not use rage. Use precision."
Goku nodded. He dropped into his stance.
Cymbal laughed. "A little brat? I'll squash you!"
He charged.
Goku didn't rush. He waited. As Cymbal swung a massive claw, Goku ducked.
Rock, Paper, Scissors: Rock.
Goku punched Cymbal in the stomach.
The demon gasped, eyes bulging.
Goku spun and kicked him in the head. Cymbal went flying, crashing through a tree.
"Finish him," I commanded.
Goku leaped into the air. "Kamehameha!"
The beam fired.
But before it hit, I intervened.
Teleport.
I appeared in the path of the beam. I caught the Kamehameha with one hand, dissipating it into smoke.
"Hey!" Goku shouted. "Why did you stop me?"
"Because," I said, turning to face the terrified Cymbal. "I need to test something."
I walked toward the demon.
"You are a spawn of King Piccolo," I said. "You are made of magic and evil energy."
"Stay back!" Cymbal fired an electricity blast from his hands.
I let it hit me. The lightning coursed over my body, but my Netherrealm physiology absorbed it. It tickled.
"My turn."
I grabbed Cymbal by the throat. I lifted him off the ground.
"Saibot. Restrain."
My shadow clones erupted from the ground, pinning Cymbal's arms and legs.
"Goku! Watch closely!" I yelled.
I placed my free hand on Cymbal's chest.
Technique: Soul Drain.
I didn't just sip. I drank.
Green energy—Piccolo's corrupted Namekian magic—flowed out of Cymbal and into me. The demon screamed as his very essence was ripped away. His body began to wither, turning grey, then dust.
The rush was incredible. It wasn't just life force; it was dark life force. It tasted like vintage wine compared to the cheap water of dinosaurs.
My muscles swelled. The green veins on my chest glowed so bright they illuminated the entire forest.
My Power Level spiked. 850... 900... 950... 1000.
Cymbal crumbled into ash in my hand.
I stood there, breathing heavily, black smoke pouring from my mouth.
"Tasty," I growled.
Goku and Yajirobe stared at me in horror.
"You... you ate him," Goku whispered.
"I recycled him," I corrected. "Now I am stronger. And King Piccolo will feel that his son is dead."
I turned to Goku.
"Tambourine will be next. He will come to investigate his brother's death. And when he does..."
I pointed at Goku.
"...you will kill him. I have had my fill."
I looked at the sky. I could feel King Piccolo's rage from thousands of miles away.
"The war has begun," I said. "And I just fired the first shot."