Breakout!

[A Dragonian]

(Sorry I took so long to do this, everybody. Although the saga sometimes seems like it’s dead, there is some chance, somewhere, that we can get it finished. This was a thread that him and I were going to do as an explanation for some things that were about to happen on Lavertia and Bedoe, and hopefully bring an end to the entire saga.)

Two men were in a darkly lit room, one sitting and the other choosing to stand. The man sitting had every appearance to him of a Saiyan scientist, the traditional armor of his Saiyan heritage abandoned for a solid white lab coat. His left breast adorned the achievements of his work-- medals of every sort and honor, giving the honor to the man that he deserved. With his elbow on the table, he placed his hand on his chin and groped the light stubble extruding from his features. “Status report,” commanded the leading scientist, peering up through the metal rims of his glasses, glancing into the eyes of the other figure.

The second person-- apparently a doctor, their attire entirely white with a headband over their Saiyan-style hair-- tossed two folders onto the table; their eyes watched with approving gaze as they landed onto the long mahogany table and then slid towards the scientist. As the first figure opened one folder and skimmed through the papers inside, he was greeted with three different packets, containing heart radiographs, x-rays dating weeks back, and a history of blood work and other material of medical note. “Their heart rates are back to a stable level,” commented the Saiyan doctor quietly as the scientist rushed through the data. “Brain-wave output remains normal in all three patients. Their wounds are healing, and fast-- we underestimated the power in their Dragonian blood. Both of them should be in prime condition in a day or two.”

“The prince,” mused the scientist from behind the first of the manila folders, “It seems, has the best record of recovery. His body got demolished, yet it has only taken him three days to naturally recover to his pure state. Machiavelli would have been proud.” The scientist spread a wide smirk from one ear to the other. There was something about that smile that had the doctor seen, he would not have liked; it had the sadistic features that defined a madman, and the only way to make it even more clear would be if the man had broken into maniacal laughter.

The other two prisoners shared something similar that made them closer to each other than they might have had connection to the prince of Lavertia. The first subject was a boy in his late teens, his blood determined to be Dragonian, but there was another, undesirable feature within it: human. This man was only half of what the Saiyans really wanted-- but in the end, this sudden twist of events about this boy were exactly what they wanted. The second was less of a shame to the Saiyans, and that was a man who shared half of their pure blood, the other he shared with his fellow prisoners. The papers that read their heart rates bore several differences in the rate and force that they pumped blood.

The scientist opened the second folder; inside, it held the heart and brain waves of two other men, but they shared nothing in common with the information with the last portfolio. The records dated back as far as a month ago, recording with great detail of the information present. Here and there, notes were scribbled in chicken scratch, undecipherable to anyone, save for the man who originally wrote them. “Is this all the data you’ve collected?” he mused while looking up from the opened folder.

“No, sir,” responded the Saiyan doctor. “I also have some notes of their recoveries. However, that data is not ready to be presented. The heart data perfectly supports your hypothesis, however...and the brain waves, their data is simply astounding...”

The Saiyan scientist nodded, spreading the contents from each folder upon the massive business table into four columns: The prince’s results, The Dragonian and human crossbreed’s, the Dragonian and Saiyan crossbreed’s, and then the Saiyan’s. Smiling to himself, he went to work scanning through the amount of data presented to him, scribbling notes on the radiographs and eyeing the various pieces of information for some hidden secret. He spent several minutes rushing through the papers, before he paused. His smile would have spread farther across his lips had it been humanly possible. His lips opened, and laughter began to emanate throughout the room. “By Jove, I’ve found it!” His shouting could have been heard outside of the room, drawing the attention of any passerby’s.

Excitement spread through the Saiyan doctor as he ran over to the other. “What is it, sir? Did you find it? The connection?”

“Yes!” replied the Saiyan scientist. He jumped from his seat, his hypothesis proven accurate. “Just look at the data!” He pointed to the Dragonian’s radiograph, and then to the Saiyan’s. “The Dragonians and the Saiyans heartbeats have nothing in common; one would assume that mixing DNA from two polar opposites would cause the destruction of the source!” Then he pointed to the two crossbreed’s data. “But these man here shows signs of the same heart beat of both races; his heart has adjusted to the happy medium between both races...it is possible to mix Dragonian and Saiyans into the same breed!”

“Yes!” responded the jovial Saiyan doctor. “Our research hasn’t been for nothing! We have exactly what we need to make the perfect soldier. One that is half Saiyan, and half Dragonian!”

The scientist smiled. “Lord Turgor will be certainly pleased...”

* * *

The medical room where two of the three Dragonian prisoners recovered held medical technology that humans would never be able to design in their lifetime. So cost effective and cheap it was, that just one piece of it would save billions around the planet earth-- in both lives and dollars. It’s a shame, though that the technology will never be passed onto the human race-- it would be so useful. Both of the patients were tied to a machine that looked like a heart monitor, but there was so much more to the technology. While the two young men rested, a tube transferred a foreign technology into their blood steam. It carried medicine throughout their body, and then the nanomachines worked silently on restoring parts of the body: muscle tissue, bone positioning, and anything that would help to further the recovery of the body.

The nanomachines were easy to create for their functions, but were designed to dissolve harmlessly into the blood after an hour or so within the body. Normally, the metals that constructed the nanomachines would have hurt the body being dissolved, but the machines are so microscopic that not even a million of the little buggers would hurt the body as they floated through the bloodstream.

It was on this note that one of the patients began to stir from his sleep. Tossing and turning in a dreamless sleep, the patient’s eyelids began to flutter open, peering through the now clean, brown locks that had fallen over his face. As he looked up, the room was entirely white, but not the eerie white that calms a human hospital. This one had a more hospitable taste to it; it could be a color that people might consider painting their rooms.

The last time this man had awoken within the Saiyan colony, he had resorted to breaking his own shoulder joints to relieve himself of the pain filling his body. His body was writhing in pain then, and when the two Saiyan soldiers had released him from his cell to seek medical attention. Now, as he stirred from his slumber, his body still had its share of aches and pains, but nothing that a tough man could not deal with.

“Wow,” the boy of teenage years muttered to himself as he staggered from his bed, lifting his body up onto his haunches. His arms buckled under his weight, and when they gave way, he fell back into his pillow. “Damn it all,” he cursed under his breath. “Maybe it was not such a good idea to break my shoulder joints...” From where his body lay, he tried his best to move his arms, testing their stability. As they moved, he could feel the stiffness coursing through them. Now, this boy was not a doctor, but his best guess was that in a day or two, they would be good as new. They would not be too flexible at the current state of time, but they were good enough to get by.

“I need to get an analysis of where I am,” the teenage Dragonian muttered under his breath, trying a second time to get up from his moment of stasis. His arms still shook under him, but he was able to get off of his back, sitting on the white bed. His eyes were slightly unfocused from the time he had spent asleep-- by this time, he had no sense of what day it was, or the time-- but they slowly adjusted to the room around him. He glanced around the four-walled recovery room, recording every tidbit of necessary data into his brain.

In a corner sat a wooden table, and on it rested a pile of equipment: two twin swords, a piece of samurai armor, and a pair of twin revolvers. So, our weaponry is still here, then...They must figure if we tried to escape, we would go down with a fight. The boy had noticed a peculiar piece of weaponry, just a plain sword hilt. It was not his Odd thing to bring to the battlefield. Maybe it belongs to sleepyhead over there.

This had been the first time Aiedan had chosen to turn his head towards the other side of the room, where the other Dragonian rested. Parting the chestnut hair from his sapphire eyes, his focus pertained on the man before him. As he rested, the boy took in the features of the man’s face. But he was too focused on a thought that had hit him to have proceeded further. “No, it couldn’t be...” the man thought as his eyes widened, registering more about the person. “It’s impossible...after all this time...”

By the time the shock had settled into the boy, a slick smile crossed his face. “After all this time...you cheeky little bastard...”

[A Dragonian]

(Well, because Ryan has not been around to help finish this thread, it’s been unable to progress; that is not anybody’s fault, including not mine and his. But, because the saga needs to be brought to a close, I am going to progress through what has happened in this thread, and get through all of the major key points in the plot. There will be an explanation of what was meant to happen in this section, and hopefully sometime, Ryan and I can write exactly what happened between Aiedan, Ryan, Seriyu, and Turgor on Lunos.)

To begin, Aiedan awoke to find himself with a medical lab, where next to him lay a man from his history, one who brought back some of the older, fonder memories from his heart: his only friend in the past, Ryan. Of course, his meeting with the ronin Jiaoimasu is cut short, when a large tremor shakes through the base, and the sound of an explosion spreads throughout the lunar base. Suddenly, everyone is on heightened alert, and escape seems to be impossible. Ryan slowly shakes himself awake, and finally gets himself up from his sleep. He greets Aiedan, unaware of who he is standing in front of, and after a few gestures of greetings, the two reequip their weaponry, just as two Saiyans rush in to investigate the fighters.

Aiedan lunges in for the attack, and quickly knocks out the two guards before either Saiyan could either retaliate or call in for back-up, giving the two all the time they need. Aiedan disguises himself in a set of Saiyan armor-- hey, one size fits all; it’s elastic-- as Ryan dons his traditional samurai armor. Both of them evacuate the room, and Aiedan informs Ryan of the pandemonium occurring: the explosion and the sudden high-alert of the Saiyans. The two fighters rush, along with a Saiyan horde, to the catalyst of the explosion: a certain blue-haired Dragonian, fighting against onslaught upon onslaught of Saiyan soldiers. Aiedan and Ryan jump in to assist their fellow Dragonian, Seriyu, and the three fighters take down enough of them to get a moment’s rest.

In a temporary moment of conversation, the three fighters contemplate on the best way of escape; Seriyu makes a comment about there having to be some form evacuation pod, in case of the city being destroyed. The other fighters nod in agreement, and decide the best method of escape would be to find one of these pods and use it to evacuate. Upon their decision, the three Dragonians set out to find their way back to Dragonia, in hopes to stop the Saiyan armies from conquering the last stronghold. Rushing throughout the base to find the escape pods, the three men were silent to themselves, their thoughts each on a different manner-- Seriyu thinking of his stepfather, Andrak Mikomora’s, safety; Ryan contemplating the similarities in this man he had first encountered on Lunos; and Aiedan contemplating something far deeper than either of the other two: Where was the head of this entire Saiyan operation?

Finally, their hopes were found when they found an evacuation area, where every wall was lined with hatches leading to escape pods. Most had been jettisoned already, used by the Saiyan soldiers to reach the planet Dragonia. By checking every hatch, they found at least ten that were still accessable; but they would only need one, because each pod could have easily held twenty men, women, or children-- maybe even more. In their jubilation, they had found their way home. But then, in the silence, a solitary, monotone clap echoed, and footsteps could be heard. Turning, the three fighters saw a fourth, the man behind everything the planet Dragonia had faced-- the big cheese himself-- Admiral William Turgor. Turgor applauded their efforts thus far, for no other Dragonian had ever made it as far through Lunos as had; yet, there was a resentment in his voice, and he told them their efforts were futile. “The Saiyans are already claiming the last grounds of Dragonia, and slaughtering the miniscule defenses standing in their way. It will be a matter of hours before the Dragonian race will be wiped from the face of the planet: out of sight, and out of memory. Your dreams to assist them must have been pleasant ones,”-- and a wicked smile crossed his face-- “but they’re going to remain nothing more than dreams...”

In the typical, cliché conversation between the heroes and the main villain-- in which the villain always explains his motives, his “perfect scheme,” and what he plans to do when victory is assured, all before deciding that the heroes must die-- Turgor explained everything behind his plan to the three Dragonians. Turgor greatly detested the artificial life the Saiyans were forced to live day in and day out, while the people of Dragonia lived in their own luxury. He coveted what they had, and wanted it all for his own. He killed the true leader of the Saiyan people, and blamed the crime on the Dragonians, knowing he could use this to rally an army together. He would claim Dragonia, and then rule supreme, just as every dark man dreams to; he was just another power-hungry man who dreamed to take control of something he did not have.

“Your plans are twisted and useless,” commented Seriyu as he drew his Subeta Shainingu from his hilt, and then charged the blade. “You will never see your dream lived out-- I will see to it.” Aiedan and Ryan both prepared for combat, and Turgor only laughed at the sight of the three Dragonian fighters ready for combat. “Do you think you are actually going to be able to take me?” His guwaffing echoed all around, cutting the tense air between the four men. He clenched his fists tightly, and the golden aura surrounded the fighter’s body, while his hair spiked up and changed to a golden hue, while his eyes changed to a turquoise color. “Just try and keep up...” And so the battle began. No matter what the three fighters tried to do to Turgor, there was always some way that he could counter their attacks, and he left the three fighters on their toes. Even when Aiedan doubled his potential with his Hand of Might technique, Turgor still held an advantage over them.

Seriyu found himself collapsed on the ground in a huddle, while Aiedan and Ryan held a futile campaign against the Saiyan fighter; the Dragonian could see this man’s potential, and they naturally had no chance to beat this man. But, a memory sparked in the back of his head, of a time in the past, where two fighters had come together in unity, sharing the identities of both men, yet being a man of a completely different nature. On his two hands, he wore the gloves capable of making the fusion possible. Looking up and seeing Aiedan and Ryan struggle with Turgor, a smile crossed his face. He struggled to his feet, and shouted to Aiedan, “Keep him distracted; Ryan, catch!” And with that, he tossed a fusion glove to the Jiaoimasu warrior.

Ryan caught the glove, and in an odd moment where he knew exactly what Seriyu was thinking, the two men shared a smile. It was if they had become one fighter once again. Ryan gripped the glove to his fist, and he looked to Seriyu. The two fighters came together, and as soon as their fists collided, there was a silent explosion of bright light. Turgor stopped to shield his eyes, and Aiedan used the moment to get a sucker-punch on the Saiyan fighter. He turned his head to his two comrades, and found himself blinded in the light of the attack. He moved to get distance from Turgor, and when the light finally died, there stood a man shrouded in a powerful blue aura, lightning dancing in arcs around his body. This man was different than either man, but possessed the same appearance, strength, and potential of both fighters. With a cocky grin, the fighter spat at the ground, and only spoke “Seryan has returned.”

This fused fighter proved more of a challenge to Turgor, and the Saiyan was left astounded at the fighting potential this man had. The two were dead-locked in combat, and Aiedan only watched from afar with amazement at the speed and grace this new fighter worked with. (Seryan asked of Aiedan to back down, because Seryan knew that he could not help them at the current moment) He could see the same men that had been fighting before-- both his mentor, and his friend-- but this fighter had so much more power to his side. Turgor could not keep up with him. They fought in a stalemate, and even when Seryan released the combined power of two Class III techniques, The Earth Dragon of Burden’s Flame, Turgor still found a way to counter it and save his neck. Both fighters knew exactly what was to become of their match.

Turgor’s eyes wandered around the room, and one focused on Aiedan. A smile crossed his face; he knew there was some sentiment from this new fighter, and he would use it to his advantage. Suddenly, he rushed towards Aiedan, bearing an attack that would guarantee to kill the boy had it made contact. Seryan watched, and in a move based on total instinct-- even though Ryan still not know who this man was, he knew there was some connection between the two-- the fused fighter rushed in towards Turgor and Aiedan. There was no way they could make it in time to stop Turgor’s attack entirely, so they did the only thing that instinct told them. Aiedan saw a bright flash, but the attack never hit him.

When the light finally died down, Seryan was no more. Ryan and Seriyu had broken down to their own bodies, and were both incapable of fighting. Aiedan rushed to Seriyu to check his safety, only to find a large gash in his body; the wound would prove to be fatal. Seriyu was smiling. “I split the fusion just before Ryan could get hit...he still got nailed by the blunt of the blow, but he’ll live...” Aiedan was on the verge of tears, but Seriyu could only smile at his young student. With his hand in a weak gesture, he handed his Subeta Shainingu to Aiedan. “If you go to my room in the Lavertian palace,” Seriyu coughed lightly as he struggled to speak, “You’ll find seven crystals. If you use them, you can wish for the people of Dragonia to be saved...wish for them, in pride of Dragonia...” Seriyu coughed once more, and his body became limp.

Something snapped in Aiedan when the last pulse died in the Dragonian, and he raised his head, his eyes bearing with a deep anger and hatred towards Turgor. Turgor watched with astonishment at this sudden burst of fire coming from Aiedan. The only sound to leave his vocal chords was a heavy and angry scream. His power surged, and his aura acted up wildly. Its red color flickered purple, and then turned red again; it changed back and forth, while his power skyrocket. His hair fluttered in the air, as it flashed a platinum color, and then died again to nothing. His scream persisted, and finally, his aura turned to a deep cerulean color, while his hair turned silver and his eyes a lighter blue. Aiedan had transcended the boundaries of his strength; he had accessed the legendary level of Dragon Scar. His eyes glared at Turgor, and he gripped the Subeta Shainingu hilt in his hand, and the blade ejected from it. Aiedan was so angry, he could not even form a sensible sentence. The only word to leave his mouth was, “DIE!”

For once, Turgor had found himself against an opponent he could not handle. Whenever he ducked one of Aiedan’s blows, he would take another from a sudden burst in speed. This man fought like he was a drunken boxer; every move was unpredictable. His power was greater than Turgor’s, and he even revealed that he had copied one of Seryan’s moves. He braced himself for the surge of power, and he released The Earth Dragon of Burden’s Flame in Turgor’s direction. Once again, Turgor could avoid the damaging affects of the attack, but he still was nailed from its effects. Turgor was lucky to still be alive from the attack! Aiedan made a foolish move by summoning the dragon in his blind rage, because the summoning of it left him with no power to sustain his fighting; his aura died down, and he returned to his regular state, as he collapsed to his knees.

As he looked up at Turgor, the man began to walk towards Aiedan with a smile on his face. “You cannot beat me; I told you that already. But I will tell you, you would have made the perfect specimen for my genetic experiments.” Turgor was only a few feet from Aiedan, and his tattered body showed as much damage as Seriyu, Ryan, and Aiedan combined. “As of this moment, my scientists are working on making the perfect soldier, combining the power of your breed with our own. You would stand no chance against their might.” Aiedan looked up at him. “Take your damn genetic experiments and shove them up your ass.” He pulled up his left hand, and a ki ball removed the gem from within it. His hand convulsed in pain, and an opening appeared in his palm. A vacuum began to suck everything in the surrounding area; Aiedan had opened up the Kazaana. Turgor, in fear of the vacuum, tried to run, but his body could not outrun the speed of the vacuum. Turgor screamed one final cry as his body disappeared into the vacuum, never to be seen again.

------------------------------------------

[A Dragonian]

The sound of silence would have better fit the situation, but the sound of an inhaling vacuum hummed all around. This was not the same sound one might be familiar with-- the sound produced by a vacuum cleaner when it is activated-- but instead the sound of a high-pitched banshee screeching, the sound of a tornado. Winds ran roughly from all directions in a large arc, picking up the loose dirt and debris from the destroyed ground. Anything picked up from the howling winds hurdled to the source, where it dissipated into nothingness: a black vortex imbedded into the palm of a teenage, Dragonian male. His other hand clasped the wrist tightly, as if he was trying to hold back the force from taking over his own body, as his eyes winced in pain.

“That’s enough of this!” he shouted against the howling vortex. Anyone who would have watched the scene would not understand how a boy could stop the vortex with just a yell, but really, he had closed it off by placing a runic gem back into the golden band on his left arm. And all at once, the vortex collapsed upon itself. Even with the closing of the vortex, a rush of wind caused by the displacement of air came rushing towards Aiedan. The refreshing gust fluttered his bloodied hair away from his slightly bruised face. As he rose to his feet, his clothing flapped lightly in the wind, creating the only sound in the area since Aiedan had closed off the vortex; the winds were slowing down as the displaced wind was being replaced by air from the surrounding area.

The wind felt good to Aiedan, after all the damage that graced his young body. His shirt had not endured the battle, fallen to a heap of shreds that now filtered through his Kazaana. His jeans were tattered, the knees now ripped open and exposing his bruised kneecaps. His shoes could still be used for the moment, but they might as well have been discarded. A stream of dried blood ran down his side, its source now healed up; several other cuts and scrapes lined his body, but they would be gone within an hour’s time. Aiedan had taken everything the Saiyans had done for him and wasted it. Had he broken his shoulder joints a second time, his condition would have been perfectly comparable to before being in the Saiyan medical lab. Aiedan might have been standing, but his body felt sluggish; finally, the effects of his battle with Turgor were affecting his body. His muscles were sore, and moving them caused him to grimace and ache with pain. “I’m lucky to be standing” he groaned to himself.

He began to move his legs-- sluggishly, but causing some movement to occur in them, as his eyes slowly looked around the room. One might have confused the events that had occurred in the room to a war, between the impact craters and broken tiles in the ground and the many puddles of dried blood. He moved quite slowly, but he was making progress to where he needed to go. Come on, body... he urged himself as he struggled to move. I need to move faster... Seriyu’s deceased body lay huddled in a fallen heap in the distance. With every step Aiedan traversed, he was a step closer to his teacher’s body.

When Aiedan was within a yard of Seriyu, he could no longer keep on his two feet; his knees buckled a few times, and he fell down onto one knee, as his hands reached out onto his other knee for support. His kneecap throbbed with pain when it slammed to the ground, and the Dragonian boy winced with pain, holding in the cry he wanted to shout. Pushing on his other kneecap, he tried to get back to his feet, but gravity persuaded him otherwise; instead of getting back to his knees, he only forced himself down onto his hands and knees. Once he was in this position, his hands began to share the pain that his knees had. Curse this body...It’s worthless! His head throbbed just from his thoughts, and all rational thinking was lost to him. He was in too much pain, and every time he struggled against his urges to just collapse, all he did was further his pain. Oh, what he would have given to just collapse to the floor and let the embrace of sleep overcome him!

On his hands his knees, he looked up, and all he saw was the deceased man that had sharpened his fighting abilities. His body was more damaged than Aiedan’s in many ways. His two sapphire eyes were shut, and even though his face had its share of injuries, there was something calming about how he rested; Aiedan would never see the compassionate sapphire pools of emotion again. He would never see an approving smile on the man’s lips. His warm and inspiring, care-free laugh would never be heard by the ears of the living. He had forgotten all of these fond memories when the last threads of life left Seriyu’s being. He was not there as his soul left his body. No, instead of being there to send of his friend, he had grown angry, and taken his anger out on a man who was-- no doubt-- now laughing at him. He had given up his chance to say goodbye to Seriyu.

Aiedan closed his eyes and bowed his head in respect for the man who had taught him so much-- a man who he treated like a second father, a friend. Liquid formed in his tear ducts, and quickly spread across his closed eyelids. Gravity pulled his tears from his eyes, and one by one, they cascaded to the floor. A small puddle formed between his hands. They say that a grown man should never cry, but a grown man who does not cry is not really a man, for he has thrown away the one thing that makes a human, human: Emotion. Aiedan could not control his emotions anymore. “I let him die. I could have saved him, but I let him die...” Aiedan did not cry like a child who has injured itself and cries for the pain, but he cried soundless cry, where no matter how much a person tries to resist, the tears refuse to stop flowing...

[Ryan - Loki]

The might of the blast had been almost too much for Ryan, despite Seriyu taking the blunt of it, even more so since the splitting of the fusion had seemingly draining his body almost completely too. The sheer pressure that the explosion had caused upon contact with the two warriors had sent Ryan’s now tattered and limp body flying backwards against a nearby escape pod hatch, it now rendered utterly useless because of it. It was here, in a heap, that Ryan remained for what was left of the battle, unconscious to the world around him.

Within his mind he knew what had happened to him, and ergo had also suspected Seriyu’s untimely fate. Either he’s worst fears were wrong, and Seriyu was pretty much in a slightly worsen state that himself, or they were quite right and Seriyu had indeed passed on into the next life, either way Aiedan was now alone against the monster that was the Saiyan leader Turgor.

Alone in his own mind Ryan now had time to sort through all the memories and visions that he had gained through the fusion with Seriyu, and finally distinguish which were his and which were in fact not. It was then that he stumbled across something he was unable to identify as a memory from a specific person. It involved a person from Ryan’s past but not as Ryan remembered him. He was older, seemingly batter from the winds of time and bruised from the lashings of life. But this wasn’t possible, as he had died in the Great War so many years ago; could Ryan have been mistaken all these years, was he never the last of the Samurai?
Whatever the truth, and whomever the memory belonged too, there was no mistaking whom the stranger that had taken arms with he and Seriyu against Lord Turgor; it was Aiedan Aurion.

It was at that moment that something stirred within Ryan, causing him to awake from his unconscious state. First only his hearing returned to him. He could hear the sound of wind blowing somewhat harder than would be expected within a base, which was completely surrounded by a vacuum. Next came a few more senses, touch and smell. He could feel the wind dieing down slightly, it blowing against his cheek, while the smell of burning flesh, blood and destruction was slowly carried on the breeze up his nasal cavity; whether it was his burning flesh and blood was still left to be seen, or felt as it were. Finally his sight returned. Him finally gathering the energy needed to lift his eyelids.

It was only in this dire hour that the true form of life, and how even he had taken the slightest of things for granted, came to him. It took more than a few seconds for his eyesight to return properly, everything remaining a dingy blur. Upon his eyesight returning Aiedan came into view, his legs seemingly collapsing under his weight as he fell down in front of a lifeless heap on the floor; it was Seriyu. Just by the sheer fact that Aiedan didn’t seem concerned about anything but Seriyu brought Ryan to the quick conclusion that he had successfully defeated Turgor. It was all over.

Instantly a huge amount of doubt flooded into his mind, mainly all directed toward the state of Seriyu. Perhaps his body wasn’t lifeless after all? Perhaps he was just unconscious, much like Ryan had been up until this point. Deep down he knew what the picture that had been painted in front of him was factual, and Seriyu had breathed his last breath. Emotion flooded over the samurai, despite his life teachings, but he was in so much pain he found himself unable to shed any tears other than the one that accumulated from within the corner of his eye and trickled down his cheek, following the crease of a scar upon his face.

Slowly placing his hand down upon the ground next to his body Ryan attempted to lift his severely battered body up onto his feet, he failed, his body falling back against the floor against the metal hatch once more. The loud sound of his body falling against the metal echoed outward throughout the long corridor, more than likely drawing Aiedan’s attention. After a few seconds Ryan accustomed himself to the sudden rush of pain that falling back down have granted him. “There was nothing…that you could have done…Aiedan.” Ryan muttered, barely able to carry his own voice in his current state.

[A Dragonian]

And as soon as the first droplet had fallen, the tears streamed down Aiedan's face like a heavy rainstorm. It showed no signs of stopping to the ground below, populated by small traces of dust lining the cracks in the tile. Each droplet fell from his eyelids to the floor, or they slipped down the bridge of his nose. A damp and soothing essence against his tattered skin with the streaming tears-- his body may have been vacant of the scars that decorated Ryan's body, or even Seriyu's, but he had his own share or bruises from his solo bout with Admiral William Turgor.

Each falling tear succumbed to the forces of gravity, dropping a great distance from Aiedan, and splashing to the floor. The impact spread the distance of each droplet, yet the water somehow held together, and each individual drip coalesced into a more massive form. The dust was picked up into its surface, where it floated aimlessly through the puddle of sorrow. Each falling drop rippled the surface of the water, and then the water spread, drowning the dust between each crack into its pseudopodia body, much like an amoeba consumes its prey.

If the young Dragonian had made a single sound in the past minute, it would have been from a sniffle as he tried to fight back his sorrow; Aiedan was lost in the moment, unable to rationally speak or think, as if animalistic instinct had taken over every last one of his physical and mental functions. His body convulsed in its sorrow every moment or so, lasting for a few seconds, and then breaking down for a moment or two, only to resume again and again. His hands trembled under the burden of his weight; had he not enough strength to keep himself supported, he would have collapsed and dampened his naked torso. But, somehow, miraculously, he kept his body levitated in the air.

Seriyu had departed to the next life, and Aiedan knew the detail to the very letter. All I did was stand there and watch as he cast himself in front of me... ... "I split the fusion just before Ryan could get hit...he still got nailed by the blunt of the blow, but he'll live..." ... I could have moved; I could have ducked; I could have attacked the man... ... "Wish for them, in pride of Dragonia..." Seriyu coughed once more, and his body became limp. ... And I didn't even say goodbye... ... The only word to leave his mouth was, "DIE!" ... Didn't even say goodbye...

The memory flooded his mind, replaying monotonously in a continual loop. Clenching his right hand into a balled fist, he slammed it against the ground, and lifted it several times, just to slam it back to the ground. With each time the memory relapsed through his mind, all he could do was repeat the same four words: Didn't even say goodbye...

Aiedan looked at his hand, balled into a fist, and his head was filled with more thoughts. The tears slowly subsided their flow; their flow never did ebb entirely, but it was enough for someone to think Aiedan had moved on from his moment. He pushed his hand against the tiled ground, and staggered slowly to his knees. The thought of Didn't even say goodbye... no longer flooded every other thought that passed through his mind, filling him with the paranoia one might find in a Steven King novel.

Aiedan closed his eyes, allowing one more tear to fall from his eyes as a smile formed on his face, and he inhaled deeply, clearing his nostrils of the secretions of his nasal cavities. This may be a risky move... His thoughts trailed off, as his lips began to form the words to a silent prayer, the smile fading away as a serious nature took the helm. "Please, grant me the strength I need to bring the Hand of Mercy upon this person's forsaken soul..." With the last words of his prayer to no one but himself-- a selfless wish for luck-- he raised his right hand and clenched it tightly.

No one would be able to see the white light emanating from his tight fist, but Aiedan only saw a beacon of hope as his smile slowly faded from his lips. With the power of mercy now in his right hand, he had in his palm the power to heal those who needed healed. The bruises and scars that decorated his body were rapidly disappearing from his skin; the power of the white light seemingly blessing the man who held its almighty power. It furthered the natural recovery of his body: His limbs felt stronger than they had before, the pain from his once-broken shoulders now a vacant memory in the back of his head. His hands and feet now movable without the slightest bit of pain tensing through his muscles.

He did not get to his knees, but rather walked forward on his knees to Seriyu's body. His knees splashed through his puddle, the fabric of his jeans around his ripped knees absorbing most of the water. From the contact with his pant legs, the puddle divided and its surface expanded in all directions it could, picking up any dust on its path. He ignored every thought from his head, rather deciding to knee forward, getting closer to Seriyu's body. This may cost me my life...

He looked once to his fist, opening his palm to reveal the white light that shone from his hands. His mind deterred for a moment, thinking of the consequences for what he was about to do. In that moment, Aiedan had no clue what might have happened if he had gone along with his actions. His life would not have survived the transfer of energy-- he was quite sure of this event resulting from his actions-- but would his spirit be enough to bring a man back from the dead? He had no answer, but now standing in front of Seriyu's deceased body, he knew only one way to find out. His face tensed at the sight of his fist, and he balled his fist up once again. He turned his hand, and turned it towards Seriyu.

All I have to do is strike him once, and my energy will transfer to his body. This may cost me my life-- I've never gambled this much on a feeling before... He looked down at Seriyu, and the muscles in his fist tightened. But I'm willing to take that chance... Closing his eyes, he readied his fist, thinking once more of the consequences. But I'm willing to take that chance... Releasing his tension, his fist fell down from above Seriyu's chest. With every hope riding on this one moment, Aiedan prayed that he would be able to revive his deceased teacher.

But, something stopped him. As Aiedan's fist went to hit Seriyu, a large clamor occurred from out of nowhere. Aiedan lost his concentration for only a split second, and the shining light died away. Turning his head back to Seriyu, Aiedan realized what had happened, and from all of his concentration, all he had done was hit Seriyu. Dammit! He raised from his feet, clenching both fists while his teeth were gritting against each other. "Damn monkeys...it's because of you that he's dead..." His aura madly flickered around him, flocculating a silver color, as the power of Dragon Scar rose from him a second time. "IT'S BECAUSE OF YOU THAT HE'S DEAD! I'LL SEE TO IT THAT YOU SHARE THE SAME FATE!"

He turned, lunging forward in a maddened rage, ready to destroy the first thing his eye caught that moved. But, as he lunged towards the source of the noise, he did not see a Saiyan soldier, or any Saiyan at that. He faltered, stopping in mid-air, as the sudden halt of momentum knocked him backwards. His fists were no longer clenched tightly in rage, and his eyes were left widened while his mouth gaped in sheer awe at what he saw. "Oh my...god..." The man standing before him was not a Saiyan, or if he was, he was not the same in the sense that Aiedan expected.

The man was collapsed against a hatch to a Saiyan escape pod. His body adorn scars from every fight he had faced in his lifetime; a single scar ran down the features of his face. The man could barely speak, and his words were so hushed that a pin drop could have produced more sound. "There was nothing...that you could have done...Aiedan." Aiedan had not realized it, but he had threatened to kill the man he once called a blood brother...

All at once, Aiedan's figure changed in appearance. He let go of the levitation holding him in the air, as his feet landed back on the tiled floor, causing the clatter of when two hard objects collide. The shining blue aura that once enflamed the fighter dissipated to nothing, the last traces of it dying away into the air. The spiky platinum hair that once stood up drooped down and changed from its silver color to a natural hue of brown, while his eyes grew from a lighter tint to a darker shade. Aiedan had powered down from Dragon Scar, and now he was in a normal state...if, that is, you could call his mental state normal.

In that moment and time, something had changed in Aiedan, his eyes were finally opened to what had happened to him: His emotions had corrupted his person, and paranoia brainwashed the rational functions of his head. Every time the memories played back through his head-- whether before that moment, or well after-- he was forced to endure the pain multiple times over, as if he had been forced to relive every second of the moment. Everything in his mind had grown justified from his temporary moment of insanity, when in fact he had been acting unjustly and quite selfishly. To miss a person was one thing; to let that emotion become obsession is another.

In that moment of weakness, Aiedan would have been willing to kill another man-- had he truly been guilty of the crime his mind registered him for, or had he been purely innocent; he would not have needed a reason for any action. But after everything that had happened to him, it took only a few words to snap him back into reality: "There was nothing...that you could have done...Aiedan." Upon hearing the words of Ryan's revelation, Aiedan closed his eyes, and a single droplet of pain trickled down his face. His words were a whisper, one so unaudible that Ryan would most likely not have heard the words. "You're right, Ryan...Please forgive me..."

Aiedan clenched his right fist, and in a silent prayer to himself, a bright, shining light extended outward. For once, this light was not invisible to everyone except Aiedan, but instead, the finely-focused power eminated for everyone to see. Once the light had subsided, a pure white flame danced around Aiedan's hand, a holy fire that was visible to anyone with the ability of vision. In his hands, Aiedan possessed the true power of the Hand of Mercy.

With the power at his hand, he lunged for a second time towards Ryan, but this time, Aiedan's anger could not have been seen; he did not show the same brute force that he had in his blind rage, and the power that he did show was not of any similar quality. His fist was clenched tightly, as if he hoped to keep the flames locked tightly away in his fist. With each rapid step, he came closer and closer to his ally. Once he had reached the samurai, he took his clenched fist and aimed it right for Ryan's heart. Had the samurai wanted to avoid the hit, his body would have been unable to produce enough energy to move. The only pain Ryan would have felt in that moment would have been when his blood brother's fist made first contact with his body.

But, as soon as the hit made contact with Ryan's body, the flames took control of the situation. The light spread rapidly, its bright sheen too much for either Aiedan or Ryan to look into; Aiedan tightly closed his eyes as the force of the light forced him to turn his head away. It was a light that darkness could not stand, a healing light.

Upon contact with Ryan's body, the light would spread into the pores of his skin, and rush through his veins like it was natural blood. Quickly, Ryan would feel his injuries from the fight before dissappearing, his scathing wounds healing up and his sores loosening to a regular state. His senses would pick up, and his pains would disappear to nothing. When the light dimmed, and everything became what it once was, Ryan would be the same man he had been before.

There was a moment of silence, as the light became nothing. Aiedan's fist had been removed from Ryan's body in the process, the force of the light enough to force back Aiedan several feet from the samurai's body. In the silence, Ryan would realize that his body had been healed, and he would be able to move.

Aidean looked down at him, as their eyes met for a moment, and a weak smile formed upon Aiedan's lips. "It's been a long time, brother..." With the last ounce of strength fleeing his body, Aiedan could no longer sustain his body. He collapsed backwards, his back slamming against the cold floor below him. He struggled to keep the pain inside, but his smile was still on his lips; his eyes flickered for a moment, and finally they were shut.

Aiedan would live through the moment-- the pulse of life still flooded through his veins-- but he needed time to recooperate his loss of energy. It was in this moment, and in this state, that Aiedan finally found his peace...

[Ryan - Loki]

Despite Aiedan’s emotional state he was still quite alert, it clearly apparent when he span around ready to strike down whomever had caused the loud noise behind him; lucky enough for Ryan Aiedan had managed to see through the shroud of emotional rage, or it may have been over for him right there and then. Despite the attempted attack being an accident, pure instinct, Aiedan was clearly quite distraught over everything that had happened to him and the fact that he had almost killed one whom he had called a ‘blood brother’ in the past, didn’t make the situation any easier for him.

It seemed as soon as Aiedan had returned back into a reality free of emotional rage he had replied to Ryan. If he had been in better condition Ryan may have heard what Aiedan had said loud and clear, as Aiedan had hushed his voice, but Ryan’s sight had returned enough for him to read lips almost perfectly. “Please forgive me…” Aiedan knew as well as Ryan did that there was nothing to be forgiven for, but never the less Ryan nodded in compliance.

A mere few seconds afterwards Aiedan’s fist suddenly began to glow with what seemed a Heavenly light; it most certainly had a holy feeling to it, Ryan could sense it through the vibrations within the air. It was quite the confusing situation. Ryan’s eyes were strained under the intensity of the light, as Aiedan was now kneeling directly in front of him, and he had no idea what this light meant. After another few seconds the light faded and was exchanged for a white flame, which glowed vibrantly around Aiedan’s fist. “Aiedan…” Ryan barely had time to mutter before Aiedan struck.

Instantly Ryan felt a sharp sensation of pain jolt through his chest, where Aiedan’s fist had impacted, along with a cracking noise, his ribs had broken. For that split second the confusion within Ryan’s mind intensified tenfold. Why was Aiedan attacking him? Was he trying to help Ryan keep his honour and die like a true samurai? And why was an ability that radiated in a holy essence causing him pain? Another split second had passed and all those questions and the confusion quickly faded from his mind, as did his pain.

It seemed that despite the initial pain this ability was in fact of a holy nature, it seemingly healing Ryan back to full health at an incredible rate. He could feel his cuts sealing, his skin tightening back to into its youthful appearance, even his bones clicking and melding back into perfect condition. It seemed that whatever this ability entailed it was rapidly enhancing his Dragonian healing ability. The bright light had seemingly transferred onto Ryan’s body in the process, it far too bright for him to even see Aiedan anymore; unable to close his eyes quick enough Ryan simply became momentarily blinding, he would have to wait until it died down to regain his vision.

After a few seconds the light seemingly began to fade, despite Ryan’s temporarily blindness still in effect, but as he began to regain his sight he saw but one thing and one thing alone, Aiedan. He no longer had his fist pressed tightly against Ryan’s chest and was now a few several feet away from him at that. “Too long…little brother, too long.” Once again Ryan barely had time to reply before something happened, only this time Aiedan suddenly fell backwards as the efforts of his actions had finally taken their toll on his body.

Instantly Ryan darted forward toward Aiedan, consciously forgetting about his body having almost been battered beyond repair just moments before. Quickly reaching Aiedan’s body Ryan moved his arm underneath his neck, lifting his body upwards slightly. It was then that the toll of his sudden movement decided to take its effect on the young samurai. It seemed that although Aiedan had almost completely healed Ryan, his body was still extremely weak.

Taking a deep breath Ryan lifted up Aiedan into his arms, him partially thrown over his left shoulder, and closed his eyes. “Sacrificing your own substance to heal me, now I’ll do the same for you blood brother….” and with that an azure blue hue began to glow around Ryan’s body, not quite an aura but similar. This didn’t sustain itself for too long before it slowly travelled onto Aiedan, it surrounding his body. Ryan had passed on his ability and in doing so had shared a portion of his soul with Aiedan, part that could never be retuned.

With Aiedan on the road to a relatively quick recovery, despite what he had been through, Ryan slowly made his way over to the only other person remaining, Seriyu. It was odd looking down at him, his body so pale and lifeless. It was hard to think that no more than an hour ago he and Ryan had once again joined forces, quite literally, to create Seryan. They had shared memories, thoughts, everything, and now Ryan was quite literally the sole keeper of Seriyu’s memories, and he would never forget them.

Bending down Ryan lifted up the lifeless body that was once the prince of Lavertia. “You fool…if only you had not been such a hero… Ryan muttered softly, sighing as memories of the not so distant past flooded his mind. Shaking them off and taking a deep breath he turned and made his way down the corridor. The heroes were leaving Lunos after a victorious battle, but every victory came with its downsides; three warriors were taken to Lunos, only two survived to return home.