Post by Deleted on Oct 28, 2012 18:43:10 GMT -5
Year 1
Unfit for a leader…
The white pod was finally approaching its destination; Namek. Bass wide awake. He watched calmly but anxious. He wanted to see his brethren’s faces when they saw how much he had grown. ”This time, I’ll definitely become Master…” he thought with a stretched ambitious grin on his green face. His antennae twitched with delight as he tried to suppress his desire from jumping all over the eight feet radius pod as it closed in on the green planet.
Bass was returning home as a new man... –Kind of. He was the same hot headed and naïve person as before, but he believed to be less naïve than when he left for Earth and that was something to notice. What he changed though was his way of viewing the universe. His place amongst the fighting world had changed forever: He had experienced what is known as gravity training, and has been demonstrated time and time again the amazing power of the Saiyan. The thought irked him, to admit that he was inferior to them –but it also functioned as an endless supply of new found determination. He wanted to go up the ranks and show them all that Namekians were just as much of a threat as any other race.
His mind went blank every time he thought back on the event he witnessed in those rocky mountains back on earth…
He was hiding behind a mountain side. His grip on the wall tightened. He never thought he would ever feel so much fear in his life, and he never thought that fear could be paired with astonishment the way it did back then; watching that human become submerged within that golden aura that just burst at the seams and blinded any who dared defy it, the way he stood up to Touketsuki Yakedo to defend his planet, -then, that giant concentration of energy produced by the maddened space lizard in what seemed mere seconds… Raw, pure, dark power, it was the most terrifying thing Bass had ever set his eyes on. And that human, without hesitation, stood between that monstrous power and what could have been the destruction of an entire planet. Meanwhile… Bass ran.
He ran away from the fear, he ran so far away… He didn’t care where he was going; he just needed to get away from the thunderous black clouds. Death was in the air. He could feel it in every fiber of his body. If he didn’t get away, he’d die. A powerful force soon swayed over him and overwhelmed him. He escaped the explosion, but the power was so enormous –that even from that distance, he was flicked away like a meaningless flea…
Bass wrenched the thought away with disdain. The space pod had finally entered the atmosphere and was rocketing down like a meteor. He clenched his hands tightly, gripping the hand rails beside his seat with great force. He was ashamed. He was belittled. But it was all so incredible… Bass would grow and obtain that power. He didn’t know how –or whether it was possible, but he would. That day he had experienced what a battle could be like. He had a new perspective, a new limit to work towards. And later, he’d work on surpassing that limit and surpassing that human –surpassing Yakedo.
The pod landed. An enormous hole was engraved into the namekian soil. Water from the great Emerald Ocean began to spill into the crater. He was near the shore. Bass remained inert for those extra minutes, still contemplating on what he had experienced; gathering his thoughts, so he could relay everything that had happened, to his father and the others.
The hatch finally opened. Compressed air was released into the atmosphere as it did. All he could hear was the hissing of the gas and the door sliding up, and through the white smoke he rose out of the crater with a single hop and landed on the edge.
“Father!” he said in surprise. Everyone was already there to greet him, or so he thought. It was after a few minutes that he noticed the signs of disapproval among his brethren. And the silence didn’t help either.
“So, you finally decided to show up.”
“Cymbal...” Bass said in disdain, immediately recognizing that voice which made his blood boil. His eyes widened though. Cymbal grinned, obviously pleased by Bass’ expression. “The clothes you’re wearing… Why are you wearing them?”
The darker namekian remained silent, allowing the intensity to stack up. “You tell me.” He simply said.
Bass’ eyes shifted to his father, whom also looked at him with those disapproving eyes. “Father?” he said, confused.
Snare did nothing; he simply looked away and shook his head. That’s when everything was starting to fall into place.
“While you were who knows where, I used your disappearance as an opportunity. Sorry, Bass, it was a good run –but now I’m the leader. Cymbal, Master of the Namekian Warrior Caste… Has a nice ring to it, no?”
Bass’ expression slowly turned into a grimace as he furrowed his brows together in anger. Fire burned in his eyes. For so long, he had dreamt of inheriting his father’s title, but instead this smug half-wit took it from right under his nose. “For your information, I was with the Solar Saiyan Empire, tracking down Touketsuki Yakedo!” he barked. His hands clenched tightly as he tried to suppress his power; so hard, that his nails pierced the fabric of his skin and a purple hue of blood dripped down his fingers.
“Ah, interesting. Good work soldier; give me your report.” Cymbal snarled with joy and mockery.
Bass ignored this and turned face Snare. “Father, you’ve made a mistake! I’ve been having special training with the saiyans! I’m now much more powerful than any of these guys –specially HIM!” he pointed accusingly at Cymbal, who wore the symbol of their clan on his martial arts gi. It was sickening.
Snare frowned. “I don’t care how ‘powerful’ you’ve become. A leader can’t just leave without notice. You should have stayed if you truly wanted the position!”
“RRAGH!” Bass growled in anger. His white aura intensified –now with a hint of black as it wildly spiraled over his body. The blue grass blades were blown away and the ground began to crumble under his feet. His veins were visibly popping on his forehead and arms; purple namekian blood boiled through his body. Some namekians stepped back, but Snare and Cymbal stood their ground, seemingly unfazed by the young man’s rampage.
“This is unfair!” he yelled. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be!”
Snare turned his back, shaking his head in disapproval as he began to walk away. Cymbal followed suit with that same smug grin on his face. “Whenever you’re done making a scene, come report what happened on earth. I’ll be training to master your family’s techniques…”
Misty, angered eyes looked from afar as his friends and family left and abandoned him. He watched as Cymbal soon became the authority and he was nothing but the son of the previous master. “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!” he yelled into the skies with utmost frustration; the land surrounding him discomposing and breaking apart as the rubble swirled around his body and then expelled outward with a transparent force. A small crater was left on his wake and he floated above it.
“I swear… if it’s the last thing I do… I’m going to overthrow him…”
Year 5
Bass had been training hard –everyone in the Namekian Warrior caste had been working hard ever since they were told of Touketsuki Yakedo’s escape. The human on earth demonstrated tremendous power, but he was still unable to defeat the tyrant. Bass’ brethren could only try to imagine the depth of their power, but he had witnessed it firsthand. Only Bass knew how true power looked, and that was probably the reason why only he could achieve such greatness that other’s simply denied to acknowledge.
The young namekian was sparring four on one with his comrades. He had proven time and time again that his training with the saiyans had brought great earnings. Every day he searched for new and unique ways to test his skills and ascend to the next level. But no matter how many sparring partners he had, no matter how much he strained to try and overgrow his Great Namek transformation, despite his countless meditations, and among other countless training methods; none of them beat the chance to train under increased gravity.
“Damnit!” he growled, jamming the heel of his foot into the stomach of another namekian whom attempted a sneak attack from behind. His hairless brows furrowed together as he expressed his frustration. None of these weaklings tested his skills. Bass was far too powerful for them. He felt like a shark in a fish bowl. He wanted to grow, but there was no space in this bowl of a planet to get him stronger.
“Can’t any of you touch me!?” he yelled out in anger. He outburst was evidently affecting his comrades. They charged at him one by one, aiming to bring down Bass’ pride and ego. But to the young namekian’s disappointment, they failed. One of them dashed for a straightforward onslaught, but Bass extended his right arm forward and smashed across the namek’s face. He then opened his clenched fist and grabbed onto another namekian, who was following behind the previous and lifted him off the ground; promptly after, slammed him face first to the ground.
“Give me all you’ve got!” he screamed. Bass’ face was now a red hue. His veins were visibly popping out of his forehead. His eyes were intense. The four nameks he was fighting with surrounded him and charged at the same time, but Bass spun with a short hop and extended both his arms and legs, swirling from the center and repelling all his attackers.
He stood idly at the center, watching his opponents collapse to the ground. It seemed like the only chance for improvement he had was the new Guru. But word of Param’s death was something that spread very quickly in a small planet like Namek, which meant he couldn’t request for the famous Unlock Potential. They blamed some guy named Carnel, but his name was recently cleared of suspicions. Bass had never seen the man in person as of yet.
A few things had changed in the past few years. Namek’s alliance with the saiyans were reconfirmed and fortified, but Bass hadn’t seen King Boliko since. He had been waiting for the man to make an appearance so he could one day rejoin them in their training. Namekians had withdrawn from the Namekian Warrior Caste and focused on rural activities. They now spent their time growing crops for the something called money and send it to foreign lands. They had ‘jobs’ now.
Bass on the other hand, along with a handful of warriors have remained in the clan and spend their time training. With reduced manpower, they needed to increase their abilities to ensure the protection of Namek.
During the last years, Cymbal had shown his true colors and banned. He was from the demon clan all along, Bass didn’t know why, but he knew this. He always felt a strange vibe coming from that guy and finally he was gone. Snare took over the position of Master once again, which angered Bass, but at least it was still open for him –and today, was his test. And as he thought about it, he was no longer angered by the incompetence of his comrades. Today Bass would become Master and his father would teach him the techniques which would help him improve.
“SPECIAL BEAM CANNON!”
Bass’ antennae twitched as his dilated eyes gazed towards the direction of that huge power level. He rushed out of the room only to find Snare falling by his own technique. “F-father!” he exclaimed.
“Hahahaha! If it isn’t ol’Bass!”
“Cymbal…” he snarled, instantly recognizing the individuals voice and soon after, his face. He could feel his power. How could Cymbal get so powerful without the training Bass went through? There were no saiyans around here, there were no gravity machines. The fiend had absorbed two or three nameks for his own gain, it had to be. “What are you doing here?”
“Revenge.” Cymbal said. “Your father, everyone, they all took away my power and banished me because of where I’m from.”
“That’s right, we don’t accept your kind, and you’ve just demonstrated why.” Bass growled. “Finally I have the chance to break you into pieces!” he dashed forward.
Cymbal grinned widely and stopped Bass’ thrust with a single hand. His eyes widened and a powerful kiai force pushed Bass away.
“W-what!?” he exclaimed in disbelief.
Cymbal walked forward. “You may have surpassed me three years ago, that I admit, but you no longer stand a chance.”
“We’ll see about that!” Bass yelled out, rushing forward once again, charging a ball of energy in the palm of his hands. The sphere buzzed as it charged and grew, concentrating into a compact and solid form. But out of nowhere, the darker namek appeared below him with a wide grin and crushed through Bass’ abdomen with his fist. It felt like his fist literally reached to his spine. His grasp of the energy was lost and the orb dispersed and faded.
Another powerful force of energy was expelled with the punch and sent Bass flying away. He grunts against the superior force. Cymbal then followed suit and dashed forward in a blinding purple black aura, arching over and jamming his knee on the young nameks face. Bass tumbled down and crashed on the ground. Purple blood began to leak from his nose. “D-damnit..” he cursed.
Cymbal looked at his from above with a callous and indifferent face. His eyes were full of hatred and contempt. He was cold, and although it was slight, Bass could see it. He could see the demon-kin reflecting from his face. He was patched with darker shades spread throughout his body, almost sickly. His irises were pink and he had fangs. Now that he thought about it, Cymbal looked a lot more different than before.
The image of the sickly creature soon multiplied into four; the Multi-Form Technique. The four then ganged up on the weakened Bass and tossed him from side to side like a Ping-Pong ball. Elbow strikes on the neck, knees up the solar plexus, and jabs at the face, double fists slammed down his back. Bass was defenseless against this being. He wanted a challenge? Now he had more than he could chew on…
His brethren watched from afar. Some enjoying the view, other’s too afraid to do anything about it. Cymbals increased and inexplicable power was far too superior. Bass tumbled to the ground again.
“H-how many…” Cymbal turned his face to the side, looking inquisitively at the namekian.
“How many what?” he asked.
“How many namekians have you absorbed?”
Cymbal smiled a wide gruesome smile. “None.” He said. Bass’ eyes widened. How could he have gotten this strong without fusing with other nameks? “Now I will take you with your fathers own technique…” he said, pressed his fingers tightly on his forehead as they began to spark energy. He was about to use the Special Beam Cannon.
“Bass…” the young namek gazed to the left. He was unaware; his father had been lying nearby. He had forgotten that Snare was near death. “Take, my, power…” the man pleaded with his deep voice, soon stretching his hand over to Bass.
“I-I can’t, you’ll live!” Bass said, trying not to get emotional.
“Yes, I’ll live –but within you. I can no longer survive on my own…” Bass’ eyes got misty. His strict father, in the end, they truly cared for each other. “Our brothers are in your hands now,” he said, smiling. “Master.” Bass nods as a bright light surrounds his body and Snare’s soul permeates his own.
“What is this faggotry?” Cymbal snarled, pointing his fingers at the pair. “Die…”
“So what happened next, Master?” one asked from within the crowd of namekians.
“I became… Basna…”
TL;DR
Bass returned to planet Namek. Spends five years training. Fuses with his father. Becomes Master of the Namekian Warrior Caste.
New Moves
Special Beam Cannon and Multi-Form Technique.
Unfit for a leader…
The white pod was finally approaching its destination; Namek. Bass wide awake. He watched calmly but anxious. He wanted to see his brethren’s faces when they saw how much he had grown. ”This time, I’ll definitely become Master…” he thought with a stretched ambitious grin on his green face. His antennae twitched with delight as he tried to suppress his desire from jumping all over the eight feet radius pod as it closed in on the green planet.
Bass was returning home as a new man... –Kind of. He was the same hot headed and naïve person as before, but he believed to be less naïve than when he left for Earth and that was something to notice. What he changed though was his way of viewing the universe. His place amongst the fighting world had changed forever: He had experienced what is known as gravity training, and has been demonstrated time and time again the amazing power of the Saiyan. The thought irked him, to admit that he was inferior to them –but it also functioned as an endless supply of new found determination. He wanted to go up the ranks and show them all that Namekians were just as much of a threat as any other race.
His mind went blank every time he thought back on the event he witnessed in those rocky mountains back on earth…
He was hiding behind a mountain side. His grip on the wall tightened. He never thought he would ever feel so much fear in his life, and he never thought that fear could be paired with astonishment the way it did back then; watching that human become submerged within that golden aura that just burst at the seams and blinded any who dared defy it, the way he stood up to Touketsuki Yakedo to defend his planet, -then, that giant concentration of energy produced by the maddened space lizard in what seemed mere seconds… Raw, pure, dark power, it was the most terrifying thing Bass had ever set his eyes on. And that human, without hesitation, stood between that monstrous power and what could have been the destruction of an entire planet. Meanwhile… Bass ran.
He ran away from the fear, he ran so far away… He didn’t care where he was going; he just needed to get away from the thunderous black clouds. Death was in the air. He could feel it in every fiber of his body. If he didn’t get away, he’d die. A powerful force soon swayed over him and overwhelmed him. He escaped the explosion, but the power was so enormous –that even from that distance, he was flicked away like a meaningless flea…
Bass wrenched the thought away with disdain. The space pod had finally entered the atmosphere and was rocketing down like a meteor. He clenched his hands tightly, gripping the hand rails beside his seat with great force. He was ashamed. He was belittled. But it was all so incredible… Bass would grow and obtain that power. He didn’t know how –or whether it was possible, but he would. That day he had experienced what a battle could be like. He had a new perspective, a new limit to work towards. And later, he’d work on surpassing that limit and surpassing that human –surpassing Yakedo.
The pod landed. An enormous hole was engraved into the namekian soil. Water from the great Emerald Ocean began to spill into the crater. He was near the shore. Bass remained inert for those extra minutes, still contemplating on what he had experienced; gathering his thoughts, so he could relay everything that had happened, to his father and the others.
The hatch finally opened. Compressed air was released into the atmosphere as it did. All he could hear was the hissing of the gas and the door sliding up, and through the white smoke he rose out of the crater with a single hop and landed on the edge.
“Father!” he said in surprise. Everyone was already there to greet him, or so he thought. It was after a few minutes that he noticed the signs of disapproval among his brethren. And the silence didn’t help either.
“So, you finally decided to show up.”
“Cymbal...” Bass said in disdain, immediately recognizing that voice which made his blood boil. His eyes widened though. Cymbal grinned, obviously pleased by Bass’ expression. “The clothes you’re wearing… Why are you wearing them?”
The darker namekian remained silent, allowing the intensity to stack up. “You tell me.” He simply said.
Bass’ eyes shifted to his father, whom also looked at him with those disapproving eyes. “Father?” he said, confused.
Snare did nothing; he simply looked away and shook his head. That’s when everything was starting to fall into place.
“While you were who knows where, I used your disappearance as an opportunity. Sorry, Bass, it was a good run –but now I’m the leader. Cymbal, Master of the Namekian Warrior Caste… Has a nice ring to it, no?”
Bass’ expression slowly turned into a grimace as he furrowed his brows together in anger. Fire burned in his eyes. For so long, he had dreamt of inheriting his father’s title, but instead this smug half-wit took it from right under his nose. “For your information, I was with the Solar Saiyan Empire, tracking down Touketsuki Yakedo!” he barked. His hands clenched tightly as he tried to suppress his power; so hard, that his nails pierced the fabric of his skin and a purple hue of blood dripped down his fingers.
“Ah, interesting. Good work soldier; give me your report.” Cymbal snarled with joy and mockery.
Bass ignored this and turned face Snare. “Father, you’ve made a mistake! I’ve been having special training with the saiyans! I’m now much more powerful than any of these guys –specially HIM!” he pointed accusingly at Cymbal, who wore the symbol of their clan on his martial arts gi. It was sickening.
Snare frowned. “I don’t care how ‘powerful’ you’ve become. A leader can’t just leave without notice. You should have stayed if you truly wanted the position!”
“RRAGH!” Bass growled in anger. His white aura intensified –now with a hint of black as it wildly spiraled over his body. The blue grass blades were blown away and the ground began to crumble under his feet. His veins were visibly popping on his forehead and arms; purple namekian blood boiled through his body. Some namekians stepped back, but Snare and Cymbal stood their ground, seemingly unfazed by the young man’s rampage.
“This is unfair!” he yelled. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be!”
Snare turned his back, shaking his head in disapproval as he began to walk away. Cymbal followed suit with that same smug grin on his face. “Whenever you’re done making a scene, come report what happened on earth. I’ll be training to master your family’s techniques…”
Misty, angered eyes looked from afar as his friends and family left and abandoned him. He watched as Cymbal soon became the authority and he was nothing but the son of the previous master. “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!” he yelled into the skies with utmost frustration; the land surrounding him discomposing and breaking apart as the rubble swirled around his body and then expelled outward with a transparent force. A small crater was left on his wake and he floated above it.
“I swear… if it’s the last thing I do… I’m going to overthrow him…”
Year 5
Bass had been training hard –everyone in the Namekian Warrior caste had been working hard ever since they were told of Touketsuki Yakedo’s escape. The human on earth demonstrated tremendous power, but he was still unable to defeat the tyrant. Bass’ brethren could only try to imagine the depth of their power, but he had witnessed it firsthand. Only Bass knew how true power looked, and that was probably the reason why only he could achieve such greatness that other’s simply denied to acknowledge.
The young namekian was sparring four on one with his comrades. He had proven time and time again that his training with the saiyans had brought great earnings. Every day he searched for new and unique ways to test his skills and ascend to the next level. But no matter how many sparring partners he had, no matter how much he strained to try and overgrow his Great Namek transformation, despite his countless meditations, and among other countless training methods; none of them beat the chance to train under increased gravity.
“Damnit!” he growled, jamming the heel of his foot into the stomach of another namekian whom attempted a sneak attack from behind. His hairless brows furrowed together as he expressed his frustration. None of these weaklings tested his skills. Bass was far too powerful for them. He felt like a shark in a fish bowl. He wanted to grow, but there was no space in this bowl of a planet to get him stronger.
“Can’t any of you touch me!?” he yelled out in anger. He outburst was evidently affecting his comrades. They charged at him one by one, aiming to bring down Bass’ pride and ego. But to the young namekian’s disappointment, they failed. One of them dashed for a straightforward onslaught, but Bass extended his right arm forward and smashed across the namek’s face. He then opened his clenched fist and grabbed onto another namekian, who was following behind the previous and lifted him off the ground; promptly after, slammed him face first to the ground.
“Give me all you’ve got!” he screamed. Bass’ face was now a red hue. His veins were visibly popping out of his forehead. His eyes were intense. The four nameks he was fighting with surrounded him and charged at the same time, but Bass spun with a short hop and extended both his arms and legs, swirling from the center and repelling all his attackers.
He stood idly at the center, watching his opponents collapse to the ground. It seemed like the only chance for improvement he had was the new Guru. But word of Param’s death was something that spread very quickly in a small planet like Namek, which meant he couldn’t request for the famous Unlock Potential. They blamed some guy named Carnel, but his name was recently cleared of suspicions. Bass had never seen the man in person as of yet.
A few things had changed in the past few years. Namek’s alliance with the saiyans were reconfirmed and fortified, but Bass hadn’t seen King Boliko since. He had been waiting for the man to make an appearance so he could one day rejoin them in their training. Namekians had withdrawn from the Namekian Warrior Caste and focused on rural activities. They now spent their time growing crops for the something called money and send it to foreign lands. They had ‘jobs’ now.
Bass on the other hand, along with a handful of warriors have remained in the clan and spend their time training. With reduced manpower, they needed to increase their abilities to ensure the protection of Namek.
During the last years, Cymbal had shown his true colors and banned. He was from the demon clan all along, Bass didn’t know why, but he knew this. He always felt a strange vibe coming from that guy and finally he was gone. Snare took over the position of Master once again, which angered Bass, but at least it was still open for him –and today, was his test. And as he thought about it, he was no longer angered by the incompetence of his comrades. Today Bass would become Master and his father would teach him the techniques which would help him improve.
“SPECIAL BEAM CANNON!”
Bass’ antennae twitched as his dilated eyes gazed towards the direction of that huge power level. He rushed out of the room only to find Snare falling by his own technique. “F-father!” he exclaimed.
“Hahahaha! If it isn’t ol’Bass!”
“Cymbal…” he snarled, instantly recognizing the individuals voice and soon after, his face. He could feel his power. How could Cymbal get so powerful without the training Bass went through? There were no saiyans around here, there were no gravity machines. The fiend had absorbed two or three nameks for his own gain, it had to be. “What are you doing here?”
“Revenge.” Cymbal said. “Your father, everyone, they all took away my power and banished me because of where I’m from.”
“That’s right, we don’t accept your kind, and you’ve just demonstrated why.” Bass growled. “Finally I have the chance to break you into pieces!” he dashed forward.
Cymbal grinned widely and stopped Bass’ thrust with a single hand. His eyes widened and a powerful kiai force pushed Bass away.
“W-what!?” he exclaimed in disbelief.
Cymbal walked forward. “You may have surpassed me three years ago, that I admit, but you no longer stand a chance.”
“We’ll see about that!” Bass yelled out, rushing forward once again, charging a ball of energy in the palm of his hands. The sphere buzzed as it charged and grew, concentrating into a compact and solid form. But out of nowhere, the darker namek appeared below him with a wide grin and crushed through Bass’ abdomen with his fist. It felt like his fist literally reached to his spine. His grasp of the energy was lost and the orb dispersed and faded.
Another powerful force of energy was expelled with the punch and sent Bass flying away. He grunts against the superior force. Cymbal then followed suit and dashed forward in a blinding purple black aura, arching over and jamming his knee on the young nameks face. Bass tumbled down and crashed on the ground. Purple blood began to leak from his nose. “D-damnit..” he cursed.
Cymbal looked at his from above with a callous and indifferent face. His eyes were full of hatred and contempt. He was cold, and although it was slight, Bass could see it. He could see the demon-kin reflecting from his face. He was patched with darker shades spread throughout his body, almost sickly. His irises were pink and he had fangs. Now that he thought about it, Cymbal looked a lot more different than before.
The image of the sickly creature soon multiplied into four; the Multi-Form Technique. The four then ganged up on the weakened Bass and tossed him from side to side like a Ping-Pong ball. Elbow strikes on the neck, knees up the solar plexus, and jabs at the face, double fists slammed down his back. Bass was defenseless against this being. He wanted a challenge? Now he had more than he could chew on…
His brethren watched from afar. Some enjoying the view, other’s too afraid to do anything about it. Cymbals increased and inexplicable power was far too superior. Bass tumbled to the ground again.
“H-how many…” Cymbal turned his face to the side, looking inquisitively at the namekian.
“How many what?” he asked.
“How many namekians have you absorbed?”
Cymbal smiled a wide gruesome smile. “None.” He said. Bass’ eyes widened. How could he have gotten this strong without fusing with other nameks? “Now I will take you with your fathers own technique…” he said, pressed his fingers tightly on his forehead as they began to spark energy. He was about to use the Special Beam Cannon.
“Bass…” the young namek gazed to the left. He was unaware; his father had been lying nearby. He had forgotten that Snare was near death. “Take, my, power…” the man pleaded with his deep voice, soon stretching his hand over to Bass.
“I-I can’t, you’ll live!” Bass said, trying not to get emotional.
“Yes, I’ll live –but within you. I can no longer survive on my own…” Bass’ eyes got misty. His strict father, in the end, they truly cared for each other. “Our brothers are in your hands now,” he said, smiling. “Master.” Bass nods as a bright light surrounds his body and Snare’s soul permeates his own.
“What is this faggotry?” Cymbal snarled, pointing his fingers at the pair. “Die…”
“So what happened next, Master?” one asked from within the crowd of namekians.
“I became… Basna…”
TL;DR
Bass returned to planet Namek. Spends five years training. Fuses with his father. Becomes Master of the Namekian Warrior Caste.
New Moves
Special Beam Cannon and Multi-Form Technique.
