Post by Geurin on Mar 16, 2013 20:45:52 GMT -5
Snap
"For the love of god stop, stop it please"
She cried out, but it was far too late. Her pleads had been silenced at each turn, and her husband had stopped his crying, his screams of agony. No doubt it had been painful, if not absolutely terrifying.
Their children hugged each other, their small arms wrapped around each other looking for safety from it, and yet that would never come. Safety was the last thing that would be provided to them. Another loud snap and it was finally over. It had been nearly an entire hour, and now it appeared that the man was dead.
Slumping to the ground, Geurin released his victim. Curtis McClain, a hard working man out of south Satan. He had been raising his family peacefully and without any breaking of the law...except for one small detail.
Nam
Nearly three years after the passing of the xenophobic laws that prevented aliens from traveling freely, and set Nam Reikonaga out as a villain on the run, he came across this man. Perhaps he would not remember Curtis, but he had been one of many people within the village hospitable enough to offer Nam a place to stay the night. Whether it was one, two, or even just a step in the door. Geurin had known of his travels, allowing nam to move freely.
He had been truly mistaken in his decision to allow him free passage. He should have killed the boy when he first had the chance. Almost instantly following his fight with Suki Nam was weakened, and vulnerable. But Geurin was cocky and chose to let him live, watching him with sick sadistic pleasure as he went from place to place. After his findings on Vegeta, it was more than clear that he was not going to go down easily, and that Geurin may have created a most powerful enemy.
After that moment Geurin went from place to place, visiting the lands that Nam had, searching for any form of comfort he could find. He found it of course, in slaying those whom had shown Nam kindness. The first and foremost, a man by the name of Curtis. Nam had not mentioned Curtis in his travels, although vaguely passing over the village at which he stayed, but Curtis had offered him food and shelter during a passing storm.
Finding Curtis took no time at all, and when he did it was deep in the night. Living in a rural community there were no neighbors around to here the encounter.
Knock
Knock
Knock
At nearly two in the morning, it was not often that strangers came to the door. Curtis being the gentlemen that he was feared that perhaps it was an injured traveler. Curtis was a kind and religious man, he bore no grudges and hated no man, and so what would happen to him next was unbelievably cruel. He opened the door of his small ranch home to find none other than the prime minister standing at his door, in the pouring rain. Being how rare Namekians were on the Earth home front, it became clear instantly who was at his door and the man let out a smile.
"Why I don't believe it!"
He said, stepping out of the way and insisting that the minister get out of his wet coat, taking it from him and hanging it on the nearby rack. He set up a small kettle of tea as he spoke.
"The people always said that you visit the homes of us common folk, but I didn't believe it. What brings you by my lord!"
He asked, setting down a small cup of hot tea in front of Geurin who smiled at the hospitality.
"Well Mr. McClain I am afraid I am in search of a villain"
He said, Curtis frowning and nodding, taking a small sip of tea. He didn't know what Geurin was talking about but there was a stillness to the air that worried him. Why would he come to Curtis? Why would his family know of any villainy. No this had to be incorrect, but he would not tell that to the prime minister.
"I don't know anything about a villain sir, but you can bet we will do anything to help you"
A pity, for he truly would have. Curtis didn't have an evil bone in his body and soon enough he would lack a single sturdy bone in his body. Without another word across the table the man would begin to lose breath, the air escaping his lungs. Geurin's kenisis was incredible, and with little to no energy he could ruin this man's life. That he was. Suddenly dropping his tea cup and grasping his throat in a sudden panic his wife ran over to aid her trembling husband, only to have two short red beams fly from out of Geurin's eyes and swiftly into the skull of their youngest child, a girl, whom had peeked her head into the door frame to see what the commotion was about.
"Tend to your children woman, allow the men to finish speaking"
He said, as Mrs. McClain ran to the aid of her now deceased child. She got the message loud and clear, if she was not going to interfere, her children would suffer, and Curtis wouldn't want that. His face began to turn a strange blue color as his brain began to lose function. Just as he was about to pass out, his lungs filled with the necessary oxygen. The burning in his chest quelled just long enough for them to be emptied again.
"You aided a sworn enemy of the Government Special Forces Mr. McClain. You helped him escape, and now...now you have to tell me where he has gone"
Curtis couldn't have told him. He still didn't have memory of this man, and couldn't have known that Nam was an enemy of the GSF. Then again even if he had would that have stopped his kind nature from stepping in and giving the poor man food and shelter. His loving affection for life and those around him was coming back to haunt him. The air filled his lungs a second time, and curtis gasped out his answer. Something rather inaudible but what Geurin understood to be I don't know, or please don't hurt my family.
"Wrong answer Mr. McClain"
Geurin said, his fingers glowing a bright green. Curtis' body was thrown onto the table, his muscles tensed with pain as he was yet again forced to endure the same torture he had those many years ago. The simulation of this poor man echoed the same pain as the one whom he had actually tortured.
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His body was tensed, the simulation had played this many times, but never under one hundred times the normal gravity. Nor had Geurin ever successfully completed that level of training, but as he stood over the body of the man he had tortured so many times before, he felt empowered, as if the weights, and the gravity were nothing more than his own energy pulsing through him. It was now over five million, and he could feel it. Even if the gravity could crush his muscles, it would never make it passed the burning energy that coursed through his veins. The ki was intoxicating, and as he took a moment to look around he could have sworn that it was the same day, and the same situation, yet it was clearly not. His power had barely broken three million at that time, and his ability to train in gravity was under sixty times. But the Saiyans were used to gravity, their own planet had been capable of intensified gravity, and the facility Geurin had destroyed was capable of over one hundred and fifty times the normal gravity on Earth. Geurin had to assume that they were capable of every multiplier. He had to assume the worst or his power would be sorely outmatched. One hundred was still not enough, but if he took on too much too fast even his overwhelming Ki would not save him from utter annihilation.
Snap
Snap
With each snap of his fingers the frail body of Curtis McClain would writhe in agony as another bone popped out of place, or another organ was compressed as tightly as it could be in order to ensure the maximum pain was produced. His screams of agony would be met only by his remaining children crying in the doorway, and their mother hugging them tightly. Geurin however was unmoved. His thoughts swirled into a typhoon of rage and humiliation. Nam had outsmarted him for the last time, and if that meant a few men like Curtis McClain had to be made an example of then that was what needed to happen.
Snap
"For the love of god stop, stop it please"
She cried out, but it was far too late. Her pleads had been silenced at each turn, and her husband had stopped his crying, his screams of agony. No doubt it had been painful, if not absolutely terrifying.
Their children hugged each other, their small arms wrapped around each other looking for safety from it, and yet that would never come. Safety was the last thing that would be provided to them. Another loud snap and it was finally over. It had been nearly an entire hour, and now it appeared that the man was dead.
By now the entire event was being watched through windows and cracks in the wall. The entire town had been gathered to see the final moments in the peasants life, and Geurin, whom was entirely unmoved by the skeptical would turn around slowly and take a few steps towards the door, stopping just shy of it, finally having words to explain, or define the moment.
"This man aided the escape of a war criminal. A man who is now at large and could possibly destroy everything. You have seen him, the man who blew up the Paozu mountain range, and the man who transformed into the ape that destroyed central. Do not let yourself fall into the trap of throwing pity on this man, or his family. It is because of them that this man still roams free. I will continue to do everything in my power to see him brought to justice, but do not think for even a moment that I will hesitate to punish those who do not look out for our best intentions. And I hope you will all do the same"
His speech concluded Geurin opened the small wooden door, and left the bloody and battered mess that was Curtis McClain in the corner of his home. As the figure of Geurin faded from existence, the towns people began to enter the home. Not for comfort, but brandishing stones and other tools. The screams of Curtis McClain were not the last heard that night, as the towns people followed through on the deed, and murdered the McClain family. Geurin had struck a cord with them and now it appeared that the people of not only this town, but of the entire planet, were squarely under his thumb. Fear had brought them to commit terrible atrocities, and fear would keep them in line.
____________________________________________________
His bloodshot eyes opened to the starry night sky. The simulator had aided his meditation, but for the most part it had been his own memory, and his perplexing Namekian fortitude that provided the realism of the nights events. Geurin of course had no regrets. His own vision was a perverted version of heroism in which he was the protagonist. That appeared to be the case everywhere. Suki thought himself to be a martyr against the saiyans. Boliko thought himself to be a heroic beacon in a cruel universe. All of the people who fought, fought for the light of good. The question now was what truly could be defined as Good. Perhaps Geurin was the only person truly fighting for what he believed in, yet he had no doubts about what he was doing.
He was raising an army.
Boliko Koregutsu had an army of brutish saiyans, and Suki had the remnants of an ancient army. Each faction had their army from some cultural difference. Suki had a harsh environment, one where it was kill or be killed. His soldiers were raised fighting and killing. Boliko's army came from a civilization under intensified gravity, and a brutish primitive culture. Now both seemed to be changing their culture, encouraging less death, and more cooperation. Geurin was doing the opposite. He had spent the last five years grooming a society of blood thirsty radicals, and it had worked. Nearly every Human had begun training, and learning to fight even if only the basics. The schools were growing in number, and the superdome was constantly filled with combatants. Their society had the needed brutality to match that of Yakedo's regime. Now with proper training and time, the Saiyans would be matched for natural birthright, and Geurin would have yet another race of powerful degenerate radicals.
It had been his plan all along. This was the reason he chose Earth, and the reason he had not returned to Namek. The Earthlings had so much potential, Zach had proven that. Their abilities far outweighed that of their saiyan counterparts, they simply needed someone to unlock that potential. They were a lazy society, content with sleeping ten hours a day and having careers in acting, or art. This sort of culture was weak. Geurin had crafted their existence and in five years time had already morphed the society back to the dark ages. Because really that was their prime. At a time when fighting for survival was common practice, and anyone who could not keep up was cut from the ranks. The times of Spartans, and Persians, and Vikings, and Romans.
Humans have always had the power within them. With the right conditions there abilities would be unmatched, and soon Geurin would have an army of these unstoppable warriors at his disposal. He was the Super Namek of legend. He had overcome Tenshu, the cur of legend and he had destroyed all enemies in his path. He had brought the Saiyan Solar Empire crumbling to the ground, and then blew it to smithereens. He had used the hatred the saiyans possessed for the World Trade Organization and turned it into a win win.
Soon the remnants of the SSE would make a stand on earth and even then they would be hard pressed to defeat the Namek, whose power had yet to be truly contested.
If only it were that simple. His plans had been working perfectly, every action falling into the palm of his hand. His understanding of his enemy was paramount to their success and it was clear that he understood the very thoughts that pertruded the King’s mind. Certainly he had predicted Suki to a T. Yet there was one thing he could not have predicted. His own mind was working against him. His thoughts and actions now being dictated subconsciously by another creature or rather another entity entirely. It wasn’t Tenshu, he had been removed permanently from the body. But instead it was another being, one who clearly held more sway than any of them.
Gurin
Perhaps Geurin had forgotten about his son, but his son had in no manner forgotten about him. Not a day passed that the scorned Namekian didn’t plot his next move. Trapped in the precipice of Geurin’s mind, forced to watch every atrocity committed and every evil thought pass by. He had been caged like an animal within the beast of Geurin and now it was becoming clear what his goals were. Fear took his physical features. Slowly each time his power increased, he felt the dread of death upon him. Gurin was working methodically to destroy Geurin, or perhaps it was just paranoia. No it was definitely not as simple as psyching himself out. Gurin was a legitimate problem. Geurin could not simply pull out his son as he had Tenshu, because realistically Geurin was inside of his son’s body. The questioning feel of guilt was constantly attacking Geurin, but he would never accept it. Gurin’s attempts at finding even the slightest ounce of humility within his father were fruitless. He had however done one thing, and that was strike a legitimate fear into his heart. A fear that could easily be exploited.
With the gravity still pounding the Namekian and forcing his body to sluggishly float upwards into the starry and serene environment he had created, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Gurin was there. He was always there. The pink veins within his muscles pulsed, focusing on keeping his cells from collapsing at the immense weight they were stressed with. One hundred times the gravity was starting to pressure him, but it was in times of pain that true power was gained, and Geurin was not lost on that. His eyes shot open once more, the blood red whites shaking as another Geurin seemed to phase to his right in the same cross legged position in the air. Another play mate would do nicely, each one resting at one million in power level, the very least he could use in order to keep himself alive within the chamber. All of that Ki was allocated into keeping his skin from ripping off of his bones.
Words were unnecessary, they only served to further degrade the reason for such an intense training. Boliko Koregutsu could be dealt with. Geurin was by far the strongest warrior in the universe. They only thing that he trained against was himself. Geurin had built up a powerful tool that could at any moment be used to divine the wrath of hell on any target. His own body was a relic of ancient weaponry and a divine energy that had long since been left with the Guru’s of time gone by. First was the Kikkou. This technique had been passed down from generation to generation within the healers clan not as an attack, but as a blessing. The Kikkou rain was originally meant to heal a large spread of people, so if a village was suffering from plague or other related anguish, the Rain would sooth their suffering.
Geurin had fashioned it into a weapon, using the energy from the sun not as a healing agent, but as a painful striking one. The strike was also a method of aiding not people, but the land. Namek never had a setting sun, so the Solar Strike was used when an area was particularly shaded or cloudy, perhaps to dry a flooded farm, or to remove water from an area that needed to be renovated as a village. Both of these non violent tools had been turned into destructive weapons. The Rain had yet to see its potential in combat, but the Strike had done the unthinkable, it had destroyed a planet.
The second ancient technique was one that in fact was originally meant to drive out evil spirits. It was taught to Tenshu in his time with the Guru of Namek. The Bikkuri-Sho was no push over technique. Mixing the element of lightning with the Ki within in, Tenshu was able to summon the energy of a secret art. The Bikkuri rings. Each ring symbolized a covenant of the user. Integrity, heroism, and resurrection.
Originally there were only two rings, Tenshu however found the power to add to this covenant when he swore the resurrection of legend. He swore that from the ashes of the worlds mediocrity he would raise up hope. In that time he had done little more than unleash the greatest evil unto the world. Now Geurin, who followed none of the covenants that Tenshu had promised –except for resurrecting his own resolution of chaos and destruction- would add a fourth ring. A fourth unruly power that would finally tip the scales not only in his favor, but once and for all would prove him the better being. Tenshu had created the third, and so Geurin would develop the fourth.
The darkened arena faded from the banks of Geurin’s memory, and released him into a starry vacuum of space. Though there was oxygen as to keep him alive, the rest of the elemental changes were present. The immense temperature would immediately be dealt with by the already roaring Ki, and the weightlessness was impaired due to the intense gravity. Still he felt as though he were floating in a void of nothing, the stars off in the distance offering little solace for the dark and lonely atmosphere around him. Slowly from his standing position his right arm rose, a finger pointing upwards as his eyes abruptly shut. He usually skipped the rituals, but he felt that respect needed to be paid if he was to successfully break the seal of three.
As if slowly aerobically swaying through water, his arms began to sustain the power of the ancient Bikkuri. The agreement between body and mind set to task and the rings began to form. The first and second came easily, the green chi flowing in a clockwise motion over his wrist, the serene heat bringing about a sense of peace as the third ring appeared just a little further up the base of the arm. The pink of his muscle began to expand as a new phenomina pushed against his skin. The idea of a fourth Bikkuri was foreign even too his dermal layer. The balance it took to achieve three rings on each arm was difficult, but had become second nature. Now breaking from that habit would prove difficult, especially with his ki allocated elsewhere –primarily the thick sheet of gravity that was even dragging at the rings-.
“Hrm…gr….I…am not bound…to…your…laws!”
The fourth ring illuminated his upper arm, just below the elbow. It was the thickest of the rings, and it was no longer green like its counter parts, but a dark orange. As if the Bikkuri had shunned the energy. Geurin would not be told what he could and could not do. He had broken the seal of the Bikkuri and forced it to grant him more energy than he was capable of producing. Intoxicated with the neon glow of his new energy he hadn't the cognitive thought to notice that not only was this happening, but it was happening in front of another…His laughter was subsided quickly as the figure in the chamber made himself known. Again the shadowy figure came into view. Fear. His heart sank at the idea that he would have to face the creation of darkness once again. His muscles tightened, his groin pulling and his legs losing feeling. The fear had interrupted his charge, and the gravity was now pushing down on him with an even greater valor. Geurin contemplated removing his weights for even a little comfort, but that too would be a sign of weakness. He had to face this fear, or forever be ruled by it.
“Bastard! You’re not welcome here!”
The face was finally free, unlike their previous encounters the identity of this man was available. His features were identical to that of another man Geurin knew…it was…himself. Geurin was staring at himself, and his irritation only grew. It was obviously a shape shifter, capable of turning into any number of creatures. Yet as it spoke, the identity of the figment became all to real.
“I should say the same Father”
Gurin, the long lost son to the Namek. Geurin had poured his power into the boy in the hopes that he would one day unlock his inner power releasing the evil on the world, and that he had. To save Zach’s life in the fight against Suki, he had been forced to draw on his spare energy. When the energy was released, so was the evil that Geurin so aptly possessed. Now it seemed the tables had turned, and the son now stalked the father.
“No…How…You little shit I am stronger than you”
Gurin scoffed, the amusement in Geurin’s surprise was evident as he spoke. Gurin’s own power had manifested into something even stronger than Geurin’s and that surprised both of them. Yet Gurin was not here for a cheerful reunion. His energy swirled around his mid section before the Bikkur began wrapping its way up his arm in a cork screw pattern. Rather than rings, it appeared to be a spiral of energy. His right arm encompassed the power while his left remained barren. As if mocking the fact that Geurin held two Bikkuri’s he spoke.
“Father…I have been watching you…using my body for your own gain…Father your time is coming to an end, yet…I cannot have you dying. No, this is my body and I will not have it permanently scarred. You had better train, or the saiyans will kill you long before I have the chance”
The corkscrew swirled violently around his arm as Geurin lost his patience. His chest heaved, his eyes nearly popping from their sockets, and veins striking out over his forehead and over each body part. The gravity was relentless, and now his muscles began to ache in its wake. His arms both grew weary of the Bikkuri rings that swirled around him, and so pointing both at his opponent, in a pathetic last ditch effort to eradicate him from existence forever, Geurin fired.
“Fuck you!”
All eight rings congealed into a single beam of light as Geurin pointed his hands forward and fired. The fiery indulgent light fired forward, showing no mercy to the area around them. Even the simulator began to flicker at the show of brute strength. This only intensified Geurin’s fear as the scenery began to fall apart, yet Gurin himself remained intact. It had never been a simulation, but instead his own creation of mind and will. Gurin existed because…he truly existed. Geurin could not turn him off, or wish him away. His own plan for hostile take over of the man’s body had back fired and was proving equally as harmful to him as it had been before. Geurin would not be forced out of his new body. He had done the impossible. His plans had finally come to pass and all he had to do was follow through with them.
The saiyan attack, and the responses of Zach were all as planned. And this little hiccup was not going to ruin his plans. With the Bikkuri burning brightly towards his opponent it was only right that Geurin become a little cocky with his abilities. He had just fired nearly four million power level worth of Ki at the man, a feat rarely completed without prior charge. Yet before his very eyes something far worse occurred. From out of the opposing Namek’s arm came a spiraling blast. A single Bikkuri, a corkscrew. The energy had not been for show, Gurin knew exactly what he was doing. The corkscrew cut through the air as if drilling forward into the blast. It was a quarter of the size, and yet in a matter of seconds the blast was drilled through the middle, and subsequently destroyed. A whirlwind of power succumb between the two of them, and then, before Geurin’s very surprised gaze, came a Namekian running through the fiery energy.
His knee swiftly slammed into Geurin’s chin, and without another moment his right fist was brought down crashing into his fathers jaw. If that had been the end Geurin would still have been defeated. But the anger that Gurin possessed was far greater than that. Bringing his father down to the ground, his right knee crushing the wind pipe of his throat, Gurin let his anger rain down, throwing strike after strike to the man’s face. Geurin however would not be so easily overwhelmed. His unencumbered arms flew forward at the same time, striking Gurin in the right and left rib cage. The Namek was caught off guard and fell backwards, in perfect range for Geurin’s leg to swing up and strike his son in the chest. Gurin was ready for it, catching the foot and with a quick turn throwing him into the side wall of the Super Dome. Geurin’s illusions had faded, and now he was left with nothing more than an opponent and a stadium of empty seats.
Stumbling forward, Gurin began to walk towards his father, his composure straightening up as he stepped over the ashy remains of the ground that had sustained the Bikkuri blast.
“Good, you are still at least somewhat capable of fighting…They are going to kill us if you don’t get off your ass. If your going to be a pathetic piece of shit, you had better leave now”
Geurin pushing his back up against the concave wall, his knee’s pushing him further up and the wall acting as a crutch for him. His breathing slowed to a nice even pace as Geurin finally spoke again to his son, his first born. His voice was scratchy with both shame, and hatred.
“You son of a bitch…I am the strongest in the universe…”
“NO”
The volume of his yell caused the windows in the vicinity to smash, and the wind to kick up into a violent shockwave. The energy that flared over Gurin was magnificent, and terrifying. Truly greater than any power Geurin had ever felt, or would ever feel in his life. It became apparent that Gurin was not only stronger, but monumentally so. And his next words would prove just that.
“I am the strongest in the universe. And you are the jack ass who took my body. So until I have the constitution to force feed you my fist, you have to survive. This dome is worthless, you tried and failed to become better than your competition…but there is a place you can go Father. A place that brought me to the point you always wanted”
The Hyperbolic time chamber. The area mental image of Gurin faded as the son returned to the inner recesses of his fathers mind. The memories of the HBTC now prevalent and forefront. Geurin had always wondered what had been on that lookout that produced such incredible fighters. Gravity was present, yet Geurin trained in gravity with less of an effect. No the HBTC made perfect sense. Pulling himself out of the filth that he had been forced in, the Namek lifted himself into the air, the gravity promptly returning to normal. He would go to the Lookout and deal with the old man there… He would achieve greatness.
"For the love of god stop, stop it please"
She cried out, but it was far too late. Her pleads had been silenced at each turn, and her husband had stopped his crying, his screams of agony. No doubt it had been painful, if not absolutely terrifying.
Their children hugged each other, their small arms wrapped around each other looking for safety from it, and yet that would never come. Safety was the last thing that would be provided to them. Another loud snap and it was finally over. It had been nearly an entire hour, and now it appeared that the man was dead.
Slumping to the ground, Geurin released his victim. Curtis McClain, a hard working man out of south Satan. He had been raising his family peacefully and without any breaking of the law...except for one small detail.
Nam
Nearly three years after the passing of the xenophobic laws that prevented aliens from traveling freely, and set Nam Reikonaga out as a villain on the run, he came across this man. Perhaps he would not remember Curtis, but he had been one of many people within the village hospitable enough to offer Nam a place to stay the night. Whether it was one, two, or even just a step in the door. Geurin had known of his travels, allowing nam to move freely.
He had been truly mistaken in his decision to allow him free passage. He should have killed the boy when he first had the chance. Almost instantly following his fight with Suki Nam was weakened, and vulnerable. But Geurin was cocky and chose to let him live, watching him with sick sadistic pleasure as he went from place to place. After his findings on Vegeta, it was more than clear that he was not going to go down easily, and that Geurin may have created a most powerful enemy.
After that moment Geurin went from place to place, visiting the lands that Nam had, searching for any form of comfort he could find. He found it of course, in slaying those whom had shown Nam kindness. The first and foremost, a man by the name of Curtis. Nam had not mentioned Curtis in his travels, although vaguely passing over the village at which he stayed, but Curtis had offered him food and shelter during a passing storm.
Finding Curtis took no time at all, and when he did it was deep in the night. Living in a rural community there were no neighbors around to here the encounter.
Knock
Knock
Knock
At nearly two in the morning, it was not often that strangers came to the door. Curtis being the gentlemen that he was feared that perhaps it was an injured traveler. Curtis was a kind and religious man, he bore no grudges and hated no man, and so what would happen to him next was unbelievably cruel. He opened the door of his small ranch home to find none other than the prime minister standing at his door, in the pouring rain. Being how rare Namekians were on the Earth home front, it became clear instantly who was at his door and the man let out a smile.
"Why I don't believe it!"
He said, stepping out of the way and insisting that the minister get out of his wet coat, taking it from him and hanging it on the nearby rack. He set up a small kettle of tea as he spoke.
"The people always said that you visit the homes of us common folk, but I didn't believe it. What brings you by my lord!"
He asked, setting down a small cup of hot tea in front of Geurin who smiled at the hospitality.
"Well Mr. McClain I am afraid I am in search of a villain"
He said, Curtis frowning and nodding, taking a small sip of tea. He didn't know what Geurin was talking about but there was a stillness to the air that worried him. Why would he come to Curtis? Why would his family know of any villainy. No this had to be incorrect, but he would not tell that to the prime minister.
"I don't know anything about a villain sir, but you can bet we will do anything to help you"
A pity, for he truly would have. Curtis didn't have an evil bone in his body and soon enough he would lack a single sturdy bone in his body. Without another word across the table the man would begin to lose breath, the air escaping his lungs. Geurin's kenisis was incredible, and with little to no energy he could ruin this man's life. That he was. Suddenly dropping his tea cup and grasping his throat in a sudden panic his wife ran over to aid her trembling husband, only to have two short red beams fly from out of Geurin's eyes and swiftly into the skull of their youngest child, a girl, whom had peeked her head into the door frame to see what the commotion was about.
"Tend to your children woman, allow the men to finish speaking"
He said, as Mrs. McClain ran to the aid of her now deceased child. She got the message loud and clear, if she was not going to interfere, her children would suffer, and Curtis wouldn't want that. His face began to turn a strange blue color as his brain began to lose function. Just as he was about to pass out, his lungs filled with the necessary oxygen. The burning in his chest quelled just long enough for them to be emptied again.
"You aided a sworn enemy of the Government Special Forces Mr. McClain. You helped him escape, and now...now you have to tell me where he has gone"
Curtis couldn't have told him. He still didn't have memory of this man, and couldn't have known that Nam was an enemy of the GSF. Then again even if he had would that have stopped his kind nature from stepping in and giving the poor man food and shelter. His loving affection for life and those around him was coming back to haunt him. The air filled his lungs a second time, and curtis gasped out his answer. Something rather inaudible but what Geurin understood to be I don't know, or please don't hurt my family.
"Wrong answer Mr. McClain"
Geurin said, his fingers glowing a bright green. Curtis' body was thrown onto the table, his muscles tensed with pain as he was yet again forced to endure the same torture he had those many years ago. The simulation of this poor man echoed the same pain as the one whom he had actually tortured.
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His body was tensed, the simulation had played this many times, but never under one hundred times the normal gravity. Nor had Geurin ever successfully completed that level of training, but as he stood over the body of the man he had tortured so many times before, he felt empowered, as if the weights, and the gravity were nothing more than his own energy pulsing through him. It was now over five million, and he could feel it. Even if the gravity could crush his muscles, it would never make it passed the burning energy that coursed through his veins. The ki was intoxicating, and as he took a moment to look around he could have sworn that it was the same day, and the same situation, yet it was clearly not. His power had barely broken three million at that time, and his ability to train in gravity was under sixty times. But the Saiyans were used to gravity, their own planet had been capable of intensified gravity, and the facility Geurin had destroyed was capable of over one hundred and fifty times the normal gravity on Earth. Geurin had to assume that they were capable of every multiplier. He had to assume the worst or his power would be sorely outmatched. One hundred was still not enough, but if he took on too much too fast even his overwhelming Ki would not save him from utter annihilation.
Snap
Snap
With each snap of his fingers the frail body of Curtis McClain would writhe in agony as another bone popped out of place, or another organ was compressed as tightly as it could be in order to ensure the maximum pain was produced. His screams of agony would be met only by his remaining children crying in the doorway, and their mother hugging them tightly. Geurin however was unmoved. His thoughts swirled into a typhoon of rage and humiliation. Nam had outsmarted him for the last time, and if that meant a few men like Curtis McClain had to be made an example of then that was what needed to happen.
Snap
"For the love of god stop, stop it please"
She cried out, but it was far too late. Her pleads had been silenced at each turn, and her husband had stopped his crying, his screams of agony. No doubt it had been painful, if not absolutely terrifying.
Their children hugged each other, their small arms wrapped around each other looking for safety from it, and yet that would never come. Safety was the last thing that would be provided to them. Another loud snap and it was finally over. It had been nearly an entire hour, and now it appeared that the man was dead.
By now the entire event was being watched through windows and cracks in the wall. The entire town had been gathered to see the final moments in the peasants life, and Geurin, whom was entirely unmoved by the skeptical would turn around slowly and take a few steps towards the door, stopping just shy of it, finally having words to explain, or define the moment.
"This man aided the escape of a war criminal. A man who is now at large and could possibly destroy everything. You have seen him, the man who blew up the Paozu mountain range, and the man who transformed into the ape that destroyed central. Do not let yourself fall into the trap of throwing pity on this man, or his family. It is because of them that this man still roams free. I will continue to do everything in my power to see him brought to justice, but do not think for even a moment that I will hesitate to punish those who do not look out for our best intentions. And I hope you will all do the same"
His speech concluded Geurin opened the small wooden door, and left the bloody and battered mess that was Curtis McClain in the corner of his home. As the figure of Geurin faded from existence, the towns people began to enter the home. Not for comfort, but brandishing stones and other tools. The screams of Curtis McClain were not the last heard that night, as the towns people followed through on the deed, and murdered the McClain family. Geurin had struck a cord with them and now it appeared that the people of not only this town, but of the entire planet, were squarely under his thumb. Fear had brought them to commit terrible atrocities, and fear would keep them in line.
____________________________________________________
His bloodshot eyes opened to the starry night sky. The simulator had aided his meditation, but for the most part it had been his own memory, and his perplexing Namekian fortitude that provided the realism of the nights events. Geurin of course had no regrets. His own vision was a perverted version of heroism in which he was the protagonist. That appeared to be the case everywhere. Suki thought himself to be a martyr against the saiyans. Boliko thought himself to be a heroic beacon in a cruel universe. All of the people who fought, fought for the light of good. The question now was what truly could be defined as Good. Perhaps Geurin was the only person truly fighting for what he believed in, yet he had no doubts about what he was doing.
He was raising an army.
Boliko Koregutsu had an army of brutish saiyans, and Suki had the remnants of an ancient army. Each faction had their army from some cultural difference. Suki had a harsh environment, one where it was kill or be killed. His soldiers were raised fighting and killing. Boliko's army came from a civilization under intensified gravity, and a brutish primitive culture. Now both seemed to be changing their culture, encouraging less death, and more cooperation. Geurin was doing the opposite. He had spent the last five years grooming a society of blood thirsty radicals, and it had worked. Nearly every Human had begun training, and learning to fight even if only the basics. The schools were growing in number, and the superdome was constantly filled with combatants. Their society had the needed brutality to match that of Yakedo's regime. Now with proper training and time, the Saiyans would be matched for natural birthright, and Geurin would have yet another race of powerful degenerate radicals.
It had been his plan all along. This was the reason he chose Earth, and the reason he had not returned to Namek. The Earthlings had so much potential, Zach had proven that. Their abilities far outweighed that of their saiyan counterparts, they simply needed someone to unlock that potential. They were a lazy society, content with sleeping ten hours a day and having careers in acting, or art. This sort of culture was weak. Geurin had crafted their existence and in five years time had already morphed the society back to the dark ages. Because really that was their prime. At a time when fighting for survival was common practice, and anyone who could not keep up was cut from the ranks. The times of Spartans, and Persians, and Vikings, and Romans.
Humans have always had the power within them. With the right conditions there abilities would be unmatched, and soon Geurin would have an army of these unstoppable warriors at his disposal. He was the Super Namek of legend. He had overcome Tenshu, the cur of legend and he had destroyed all enemies in his path. He had brought the Saiyan Solar Empire crumbling to the ground, and then blew it to smithereens. He had used the hatred the saiyans possessed for the World Trade Organization and turned it into a win win.
Soon the remnants of the SSE would make a stand on earth and even then they would be hard pressed to defeat the Namek, whose power had yet to be truly contested.
If only it were that simple. His plans had been working perfectly, every action falling into the palm of his hand. His understanding of his enemy was paramount to their success and it was clear that he understood the very thoughts that pertruded the King’s mind. Certainly he had predicted Suki to a T. Yet there was one thing he could not have predicted. His own mind was working against him. His thoughts and actions now being dictated subconsciously by another creature or rather another entity entirely. It wasn’t Tenshu, he had been removed permanently from the body. But instead it was another being, one who clearly held more sway than any of them.
Gurin
Perhaps Geurin had forgotten about his son, but his son had in no manner forgotten about him. Not a day passed that the scorned Namekian didn’t plot his next move. Trapped in the precipice of Geurin’s mind, forced to watch every atrocity committed and every evil thought pass by. He had been caged like an animal within the beast of Geurin and now it was becoming clear what his goals were. Fear took his physical features. Slowly each time his power increased, he felt the dread of death upon him. Gurin was working methodically to destroy Geurin, or perhaps it was just paranoia. No it was definitely not as simple as psyching himself out. Gurin was a legitimate problem. Geurin could not simply pull out his son as he had Tenshu, because realistically Geurin was inside of his son’s body. The questioning feel of guilt was constantly attacking Geurin, but he would never accept it. Gurin’s attempts at finding even the slightest ounce of humility within his father were fruitless. He had however done one thing, and that was strike a legitimate fear into his heart. A fear that could easily be exploited.
With the gravity still pounding the Namekian and forcing his body to sluggishly float upwards into the starry and serene environment he had created, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Gurin was there. He was always there. The pink veins within his muscles pulsed, focusing on keeping his cells from collapsing at the immense weight they were stressed with. One hundred times the gravity was starting to pressure him, but it was in times of pain that true power was gained, and Geurin was not lost on that. His eyes shot open once more, the blood red whites shaking as another Geurin seemed to phase to his right in the same cross legged position in the air. Another play mate would do nicely, each one resting at one million in power level, the very least he could use in order to keep himself alive within the chamber. All of that Ki was allocated into keeping his skin from ripping off of his bones.
Words were unnecessary, they only served to further degrade the reason for such an intense training. Boliko Koregutsu could be dealt with. Geurin was by far the strongest warrior in the universe. They only thing that he trained against was himself. Geurin had built up a powerful tool that could at any moment be used to divine the wrath of hell on any target. His own body was a relic of ancient weaponry and a divine energy that had long since been left with the Guru’s of time gone by. First was the Kikkou. This technique had been passed down from generation to generation within the healers clan not as an attack, but as a blessing. The Kikkou rain was originally meant to heal a large spread of people, so if a village was suffering from plague or other related anguish, the Rain would sooth their suffering.
Geurin had fashioned it into a weapon, using the energy from the sun not as a healing agent, but as a painful striking one. The strike was also a method of aiding not people, but the land. Namek never had a setting sun, so the Solar Strike was used when an area was particularly shaded or cloudy, perhaps to dry a flooded farm, or to remove water from an area that needed to be renovated as a village. Both of these non violent tools had been turned into destructive weapons. The Rain had yet to see its potential in combat, but the Strike had done the unthinkable, it had destroyed a planet.
The second ancient technique was one that in fact was originally meant to drive out evil spirits. It was taught to Tenshu in his time with the Guru of Namek. The Bikkuri-Sho was no push over technique. Mixing the element of lightning with the Ki within in, Tenshu was able to summon the energy of a secret art. The Bikkuri rings. Each ring symbolized a covenant of the user. Integrity, heroism, and resurrection.
Originally there were only two rings, Tenshu however found the power to add to this covenant when he swore the resurrection of legend. He swore that from the ashes of the worlds mediocrity he would raise up hope. In that time he had done little more than unleash the greatest evil unto the world. Now Geurin, who followed none of the covenants that Tenshu had promised –except for resurrecting his own resolution of chaos and destruction- would add a fourth ring. A fourth unruly power that would finally tip the scales not only in his favor, but once and for all would prove him the better being. Tenshu had created the third, and so Geurin would develop the fourth.
The darkened arena faded from the banks of Geurin’s memory, and released him into a starry vacuum of space. Though there was oxygen as to keep him alive, the rest of the elemental changes were present. The immense temperature would immediately be dealt with by the already roaring Ki, and the weightlessness was impaired due to the intense gravity. Still he felt as though he were floating in a void of nothing, the stars off in the distance offering little solace for the dark and lonely atmosphere around him. Slowly from his standing position his right arm rose, a finger pointing upwards as his eyes abruptly shut. He usually skipped the rituals, but he felt that respect needed to be paid if he was to successfully break the seal of three.
As if slowly aerobically swaying through water, his arms began to sustain the power of the ancient Bikkuri. The agreement between body and mind set to task and the rings began to form. The first and second came easily, the green chi flowing in a clockwise motion over his wrist, the serene heat bringing about a sense of peace as the third ring appeared just a little further up the base of the arm. The pink of his muscle began to expand as a new phenomina pushed against his skin. The idea of a fourth Bikkuri was foreign even too his dermal layer. The balance it took to achieve three rings on each arm was difficult, but had become second nature. Now breaking from that habit would prove difficult, especially with his ki allocated elsewhere –primarily the thick sheet of gravity that was even dragging at the rings-.
“Hrm…gr….I…am not bound…to…your…laws!”
The fourth ring illuminated his upper arm, just below the elbow. It was the thickest of the rings, and it was no longer green like its counter parts, but a dark orange. As if the Bikkuri had shunned the energy. Geurin would not be told what he could and could not do. He had broken the seal of the Bikkuri and forced it to grant him more energy than he was capable of producing. Intoxicated with the neon glow of his new energy he hadn't the cognitive thought to notice that not only was this happening, but it was happening in front of another…His laughter was subsided quickly as the figure in the chamber made himself known. Again the shadowy figure came into view. Fear. His heart sank at the idea that he would have to face the creation of darkness once again. His muscles tightened, his groin pulling and his legs losing feeling. The fear had interrupted his charge, and the gravity was now pushing down on him with an even greater valor. Geurin contemplated removing his weights for even a little comfort, but that too would be a sign of weakness. He had to face this fear, or forever be ruled by it.
“Bastard! You’re not welcome here!”
The face was finally free, unlike their previous encounters the identity of this man was available. His features were identical to that of another man Geurin knew…it was…himself. Geurin was staring at himself, and his irritation only grew. It was obviously a shape shifter, capable of turning into any number of creatures. Yet as it spoke, the identity of the figment became all to real.
“I should say the same Father”
Gurin, the long lost son to the Namek. Geurin had poured his power into the boy in the hopes that he would one day unlock his inner power releasing the evil on the world, and that he had. To save Zach’s life in the fight against Suki, he had been forced to draw on his spare energy. When the energy was released, so was the evil that Geurin so aptly possessed. Now it seemed the tables had turned, and the son now stalked the father.
“No…How…You little shit I am stronger than you”
Gurin scoffed, the amusement in Geurin’s surprise was evident as he spoke. Gurin’s own power had manifested into something even stronger than Geurin’s and that surprised both of them. Yet Gurin was not here for a cheerful reunion. His energy swirled around his mid section before the Bikkur began wrapping its way up his arm in a cork screw pattern. Rather than rings, it appeared to be a spiral of energy. His right arm encompassed the power while his left remained barren. As if mocking the fact that Geurin held two Bikkuri’s he spoke.
“Father…I have been watching you…using my body for your own gain…Father your time is coming to an end, yet…I cannot have you dying. No, this is my body and I will not have it permanently scarred. You had better train, or the saiyans will kill you long before I have the chance”
The corkscrew swirled violently around his arm as Geurin lost his patience. His chest heaved, his eyes nearly popping from their sockets, and veins striking out over his forehead and over each body part. The gravity was relentless, and now his muscles began to ache in its wake. His arms both grew weary of the Bikkuri rings that swirled around him, and so pointing both at his opponent, in a pathetic last ditch effort to eradicate him from existence forever, Geurin fired.
“Fuck you!”
All eight rings congealed into a single beam of light as Geurin pointed his hands forward and fired. The fiery indulgent light fired forward, showing no mercy to the area around them. Even the simulator began to flicker at the show of brute strength. This only intensified Geurin’s fear as the scenery began to fall apart, yet Gurin himself remained intact. It had never been a simulation, but instead his own creation of mind and will. Gurin existed because…he truly existed. Geurin could not turn him off, or wish him away. His own plan for hostile take over of the man’s body had back fired and was proving equally as harmful to him as it had been before. Geurin would not be forced out of his new body. He had done the impossible. His plans had finally come to pass and all he had to do was follow through with them.
The saiyan attack, and the responses of Zach were all as planned. And this little hiccup was not going to ruin his plans. With the Bikkuri burning brightly towards his opponent it was only right that Geurin become a little cocky with his abilities. He had just fired nearly four million power level worth of Ki at the man, a feat rarely completed without prior charge. Yet before his very eyes something far worse occurred. From out of the opposing Namek’s arm came a spiraling blast. A single Bikkuri, a corkscrew. The energy had not been for show, Gurin knew exactly what he was doing. The corkscrew cut through the air as if drilling forward into the blast. It was a quarter of the size, and yet in a matter of seconds the blast was drilled through the middle, and subsequently destroyed. A whirlwind of power succumb between the two of them, and then, before Geurin’s very surprised gaze, came a Namekian running through the fiery energy.
His knee swiftly slammed into Geurin’s chin, and without another moment his right fist was brought down crashing into his fathers jaw. If that had been the end Geurin would still have been defeated. But the anger that Gurin possessed was far greater than that. Bringing his father down to the ground, his right knee crushing the wind pipe of his throat, Gurin let his anger rain down, throwing strike after strike to the man’s face. Geurin however would not be so easily overwhelmed. His unencumbered arms flew forward at the same time, striking Gurin in the right and left rib cage. The Namek was caught off guard and fell backwards, in perfect range for Geurin’s leg to swing up and strike his son in the chest. Gurin was ready for it, catching the foot and with a quick turn throwing him into the side wall of the Super Dome. Geurin’s illusions had faded, and now he was left with nothing more than an opponent and a stadium of empty seats.
Stumbling forward, Gurin began to walk towards his father, his composure straightening up as he stepped over the ashy remains of the ground that had sustained the Bikkuri blast.
“Good, you are still at least somewhat capable of fighting…They are going to kill us if you don’t get off your ass. If your going to be a pathetic piece of shit, you had better leave now”
Geurin pushing his back up against the concave wall, his knee’s pushing him further up and the wall acting as a crutch for him. His breathing slowed to a nice even pace as Geurin finally spoke again to his son, his first born. His voice was scratchy with both shame, and hatred.
“You son of a bitch…I am the strongest in the universe…”
“NO”
The volume of his yell caused the windows in the vicinity to smash, and the wind to kick up into a violent shockwave. The energy that flared over Gurin was magnificent, and terrifying. Truly greater than any power Geurin had ever felt, or would ever feel in his life. It became apparent that Gurin was not only stronger, but monumentally so. And his next words would prove just that.
“I am the strongest in the universe. And you are the jack ass who took my body. So until I have the constitution to force feed you my fist, you have to survive. This dome is worthless, you tried and failed to become better than your competition…but there is a place you can go Father. A place that brought me to the point you always wanted”
The Hyperbolic time chamber. The area mental image of Gurin faded as the son returned to the inner recesses of his fathers mind. The memories of the HBTC now prevalent and forefront. Geurin had always wondered what had been on that lookout that produced such incredible fighters. Gravity was present, yet Geurin trained in gravity with less of an effect. No the HBTC made perfect sense. Pulling himself out of the filth that he had been forced in, the Namek lifted himself into the air, the gravity promptly returning to normal. He would go to the Lookout and deal with the old man there… He would achieve greatness.
