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 The Between

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Saint Dane

Saint Dane

PowerLevel : 8,805,200
Ki : 8,805,200
Transformations : Super Saiyan
Tehniques : Energy Blast, Kaioken, Kamehameha, Dodonpa
Battle Points : 117
Zeni : 192,450
Items : Z-Sword, King's Armor, Weighted Armor, Prince's Scouter, Super Saibaman (Grade 2) (x120)
Posts : 7
Join date : 2010-08-26
Age : 23
Location : Florida

PostSubject: The Between   Wed Sep 29, 2010 9:03 am

“What is this feeling of looming, as if something is hanging over me at all times? Why do I feel like I am being watched wherever I go? Why is it that the entire world feels bleaker and darker?”

Saint Dane sat the corner of a bar, which not too crowded as most of the forces left over from the war with his race, the saiyans, had just been sent on various missions, leaving only a few behind to defend the planet, himself included. For the last couple days or so, he had felt as if there was something more, something very sentinel, in his company, but no matter how hard he looked, whether with his eyes, or with his mind, he could find no definite shape that may belong to this “feeling”.

Most of his time had been spent pondering what was happening to him, and as a result his training had very slightly taken a turn down hill. His finely tuned abilities and muscles were getting stiff. His thoughts and actions had become more frantic than ever, as he lost sleep and rest over this abnormal perception of the world and his thoughts.

The very outlandish idea that perhaps a spirit was following him had come to his head, but the saiyan and shaken it off as folly. Still, he couldn’t help but speculate the possibility that maybe something more had noticed him, and taken interest.

“Can I get you anything?” the bartender called to Saint Dane’s booth, interrupting his thoughts.

The saiyan replied quickly, “No,” and tried to grab his train of thought, but it was gone. Sighing in resonation, he got up and moved to the bar. “On second thought, give me a shot of the strongest thing you have.”

The alien behind the counter nodded and turned around to get the drink ready.


Tehran’he rolled around in bed, mumbling to herself nervously. She suddenly woke up in cold sweat, eyes wide with fright, hyperventilating. She peered back and forth, having that horrible feeling you get when someone’s watching you. It’s like a constant itch in the small of your back that no amount of safety will make go away.

Growling to anyone who could hear it, she leaped to her feet and strode out the door. Tehran’he then proceeded to begin a long, circuitous walk around the palace to calm herself enough to be able to go back to sleep. After a while, she realized it wasn’t working and headed for the main entrance. Pushing the wide double doors open, the icy cold air nipped her face.

Breathing in the fresh air of Frieza, she ran across the ground, before jumping into the air. Allowing a quick current to catch her, she flew off into the night sky, hoping that, if nothing else, the air would clear her head and remind her that nobody was really chasing her in real life. Spirits don’t exist. Not as spirits, anyway.

She stayed in the sky for a long time, making larger elliptical ovals every time. Soon enough, she was flying in a circle miles wide, exhilarated beyond belief, but still with that gnawing feeling that she wasn’t alone. The shudder she let out right then had absolutely nothing to do with the weather.

Without warning, Tehran’he stopped flying. Letting her body angle vertically, she quickly picked up momentum. Within instants, she was moving fast enough to take out people just by flying past them. It was a move she had learned under Dane’s… teachings. Shrugging off the thought of the arrogant sayain, she slowed up on her descent, her body subtly changing its positions to create friction enough to slow herself down.

Thankfully, the changeling had used this maneuver many times so far, and so knew how to time it so she wouldn’t smash into the ground painfully. Instead, she touched down with perhaps 9.5 out of 10. It would have been perfect, if she didn’t need to create such raging rashes to do it right.


A shot glass dropped from his hands to the floor, exploding in a shower of glass that went out in all directions, covering the floor. Saint Dane bent over on the counter, unable to hold up his weight any longer. His eyes were wide, and blood shot.

“H-help…” he managed to sputter to the bartender before sliding down and falling on his side on the floor, unconscious.

Saint Dane’s dreams, or nightmares, were disturbing to him. He was used to seeing figures come at him from smoke or mist, but this was different. He had seen unknown fighters stand before him and threaten him with an imposing will, always telling him how his quest was useless, how he would fail.

He had always known that there was something out there, lurking on the sidelines waiting to jump out at him when he least expected it, and he had lived his life with that in mind, always watching out for what might be hiding in the darkness of a cold night, or around a shadow-enveloped corner.

In a sense, he had become that which he so tried to escape. He had become a creature of the darkness, one that would lash out to end a life without remorse. He had become a center for evil, and had forgotten half of the crimes had committed because they hadn’t meant anything to him. It had been a simple task to take the life of an innocent person.

That was, until now. Now he felt as if he was that innocent person, fighting to hold on to the bitter life he had endured so long. He felt like a human who prized his life over anything else, one that would kill to hold onto what he knew. To avoid the unknown.

Saint Dane’s nightmare was not elaborate, he did not see much out of the ordinary, it was simply the feelings that what he was seeing created in his heart. He felt fear, envy, retribution, deceit, hate, and pain all at the same time.


Landing in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but more plains for miles in every direction, she let her aura flare violently. There was a move she was self-teaching herself. It took extreme effort, but if it worked the way she hoped it would, all would be fine. She had realized over time that something in her physical Ki reacted with Carbon in the atmosphere and created static electricity.

Her theory was that if she could charge and control that electricity, her power level would increase dramatically. The release of energy alone would be staggering. As she powered to her full potential, she felt once more the familiar crackling noise and the smell of sulfur, typically associated with rotten eggs and fires.

Holding out her hands, the changeling was pleased to see the ball of Ki she had created was full of a dark mass, seemingly sucking all the remaining light from the area, not that there was much. “Electro Eclipse Bomb,” she rasped lastingly, voice pervading the twilight eerily. The ball left a trail of what looked like nothingness behind itself.

It flew for what felt like miles, before an explosion that knocked the female changeling to her knees rang from the heavens. Chunks of dirt larger than Frost’s very palace broke away from the land, forcibly removed by the strength of her attack.

However, she only had time to dimly remark on the fact that nobody could have slept through such an explosion before once more, the feeling of intrusion returned; someone was watching her, and this was no dream. She was sure of that. “Show yourself!” she exclaimed to the smog that now covered the surrounding area. But she may as well have been talking to the ground for all the response she got.

Disgusted with whoever was obviously stalking her, she took to the skies, trying to escape whatever it was that persisted in its attempts to watch her every move. But yet once more, no matter how fast she flew, it stayed with her, that feeling of disquiet. And it seemed resigned to torment the changeling, despite her many failed confrontations and challenges.


When Saint Dane awoke he was on his bed in his room at the Royal Palace, he was sweating feverishly. A medic stood over him, mopping his brow with a cold rag. Across the room stood Lord Frost, watching the scene with sorrow.

At first the saiyan thought he was dreaming again, because the air in the room was burning hot, just as it had been in his dream. After a few seconds, however, he realized where he was and shoved the medic away, sending the alien across the room and making him slam his head against the wall.

Saint Dane sat up and turned so he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

Frost’s face lit up. “Thank the gods you’re okay! My medics told me you had befallen of a rare illness, and it was likely you would die before morning! I thought I had lost my prized pupil!”

His head pounding, Saint Dane stood up, realized that was a bad idea, and sat right back down. “No, my lord, as you can see I’m fine as ever. Maybe you should invest in some better and more… up to date medical workers,” he replied slowly, his massive headache making his voice sound like it was amplified several times in his head.

Frost nodded sagely. “Good, then meet me in the throne room in fifteen minutes,” he said, and then left with the medic hot on his heels. Commoners didn’t like Saint Dane’s company, much less being alone with him in the saiyan’s own room.

As soon as they were gone Saint Dane tried to stand up again, this time steadying himself with the wall. His head went flying, but he forced himself to stand up and recall what he had seen in his dreams.

He remembered seeing a demon of some sort, but couldn’t visualize his features. After a few minutes of the vain attempt, he noticed his head and cleared slightly, and made his way down to the throne room.


Tehran’he, after some soul-searching, decided that she was simply getting twitchy. She had been on Frieza far too long. One more mission, and she was through. There were several planets that she planned on flying to in the next couple of months. There were things that needed doing, and she was the one to do them.

Angling herself accordingly, the changeling shot off to Frost’s opulent palace. She couldn’t see it, but Frost’s signature Power Level was more than enough for the changeling to scope him out without difficulty. On a sudden impulse, she decided to show off, so she passed the main entrance. After a moment, she stopped in midair, and allowed gravity to pull her downward.

On top of the speed from falling, she poured on terrific amounts, reaching a level of speed so magnificent she flew through the walls of the palace and landed, slightly smoky, on the floor not two feet from Frost, though she was surprised to see that he wasn’t in his palace, but on his way there from the infirmary. Glancing at the nametag for a moment, she made out, PUPIL SEIJIN DANE. Smirking at the thought of Dane getting hurt from someone else, she innocently asked Frost, “So who put him in there?”

Frost stared at Tehran’he for a moment, absolutely nonplussed. Then, he cracked a grin and patted her back heartily. “No, no. He’s still the best. Better than you, even. He contracted an illness this evening, and we’ve been treating him. In fact, he just woke-” he stopped, staring at the door.

Tehran’he glanced as well, and blinked several times in astonishment. Dane was walking down the hall determinedly slowly, with hollowed cheeks and haunted eyes. Whatever disease he had caught hit him hard. Frost swiftly moved to help the sayain. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?” he asked in concern.

Saint Dane shook off Lord Frost irritably. “I’m fine,” he said in his typically arrogant tone. “I’m just a bit rusty. A quick mission would do me a lot of good.” Frost seemed to consider his words carefully, examining him thoroughly to make certain he was as healthy as he said. Almost on cue, Dane straightened his back, evened his breath, and took his hand off the wall.

“A bit unsteady, but it will do for the time being. Come.” Without another word, he turned on his heel and nimbly headed in the direction of his throne room. Tehran’he, giving Dane a shrug, followed her master, hoping that this mission wouldn’t take too long.


Saint Dane forced his sudden recovery, or at least forced the image of it. Whatever was getting at him still had quite a grasp over his thoughts and feelings as he shuffled into the throne room. Frost, being able to walk much faster than the saiyan given his current state of health, was already seated upon his throne with Tehran’he at his heels.

Putting all his effort into maintaining the image that he was unharmed, and ready to go, Saint Dane stooped before Frost, then wished he hadn’t because of how hard it was to rise. Sweat beaded on his brow, but he quickly wiped it away, lest Frost catch on to his tactics. No doubt Tehran’he already had.

“Well, it seems that on the distant planet of Malgar, a rebellion has risen. They last transmission they sent told us that they were tired of changeling rule, and scouts have reported that the inhabitants, a race of small, but powerful fighters, have overtaken the small task force stationed there. The control all imperial structures, and we are still hard-pressed with out frontal on the saiyans. I have no personal experience, but I have been told that the Malgarians are actually quite strong, despite their stature, and the idiot soldiers I have laying around on Frieza probably couldn’t handle them, so I want you two to go do it together.”

Saint Dane glanced nervously at Tehran’he. It wasn’t so much that he was afraid of the mission, or even afraid of what she would say to working with him on it, since she was a solo type person. No, it was because he felt like he did back in the bar, just before he had passed out. He felt like something were looming over him, about to grab him and toss his body and soul into eternity.

It went without saying that despite all of his emotions, and his more-odd-than-ordinary dreams, it was totally out of place for a demon to appear between Saint Dane and Tehran’he, and Frost.

The demon had a pale red glow to him, and he was clothed in full battle gear. A ferocious sword hung by his side, and through the slits in his helmet one could see his deep scarlet eyes.

Immediately Saint Dane fell backwards, trying to get away, yet his eyes were rooted to the demons face. The demon appeared uninterested in Frost, who had jumped to his feet in confusion, and was trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my palace?!” the enraged and befuddled changeling lord roared, his face turning red despite it’s glossy white features.

The demon ignored him totally, focusing on Tehran’he and Saint Dane. “Yes… you two will make perfect specimen,” a voice hissed from under the awe inspiring war helm. It was something between a high pitched squeal, and the voice a snake might possess if it could speak. A truly horrifying sound, in total.

With a wave of his hand, he disappeared, or perhaps the room disappeared, because Saint Dane’s surroundings became darker and redder than before, and he realized that he was standing in what must have been the demon’s home. Standing, not laying on his back, feebly pushing away from the demon.


Tehran’he watched the demon, mesmerized by the feeling of power she felt emanating from the being. When she was transported to what she could best describe as Tartarus, she noticed with revulsion the creatures that walked the halls of this place; convoluted aliens with deformed bodies and dead eyes that preached death and betrayal. Little did she know just how right she was.

Feeling a thud to her right, she saw Dane on the ground, muttering to himself. Remembering how weak he had been in Frost’s palace, she quickly helped him to a standing position. Or perhaps leaning position, for that was what he was doing: leaning against the walls. She gave him a glance, decided that he would be fine in the next few minutes, and turned her back to him.

The demon was still there, staring blankly at them, as though confused on how they had gotten there. Cocking his head to one side, the demon slowly sheathed his sword. Taking a better eye for detail, the changeling now noticed the armor that seemed to be made of the same material as his helm. There was also a shield strapped to his back that seemed to be incessantly on fire.

After a moment of silence, the changeling asked, in as bored a tone as she could manage, “What?” The demon chuckled softly to himself.

“You don’t know?” he asked. “I have been watching the living for a very long time, trying to pick out the best in the universe, and give them… a nudge, per say, in the direction of… we’ll call it ‘justice.’ Now, most don’t seem to survive my gauntlet.” He took a moment to glance around, and with chilling clarity, Tehran’he realized that these people were all the losers of this so called ‘gauntlet.’

“Anyway,” bringing the changeling back to the present, “for the past couple of years, I’ve been pickier, hoping that someone would be strong enough, that someone would bear the burden and come out increasingly stronger because of it.”

“I’m in,” Tehran’he said at the word, ‘stronger.’ “Whatever it takes,” she quickly added with conviction. The demon nodded, obviously expecting her to agree.

“And you?” he asked Dane innocently. “I assume you won’t want to-”

“Shut up.” It was quiet, but seemed to fill the room with its presence. “Just tell us what we have to do.” Suddenly looking much more resilient, Dane stepped forward, getting level to Tehran’he. The demon grinned slightly. Walking past the two of them, he left the cave that they were in. Not knowing what else to do, the duo followed.

Dane, even at that moment, felt the need to coach Tehran’he. “Remember the basics,” he muttered under his breath. “Don’t show them your true power until necessary. Never show mercy. Pay attention to every detail. It may come in handy some-”

“Shut up,” she muttered. She had let him go on that long simply because of nerves. But now she had her game face on, and he was simply being distracting.

“Wait, wha…?” Dane stopped, causing the changeling to look up. There was no sign of the demon, but there were two paths. On each was a sign, clearly hastily stapled up, and scrawled in horrible handwriting.

Stepping forward, the changeling barely made out the word, SAYAIN. Looking at the other one, she saw CHANGELING. “I guess the gauntlet starts now,” she said just loud enough for Dane to hear. Nodding tersely, he gave her a quick pat on the back, before jogging down the path on the left.

She heard a faint voice call, “Good luck.” Sighing, the changeling stepped forward into the path labeled, CHANGELING on the right.


Saint Dane had instantly felt better the second he and Tehran’he had landed in this pit, probably deep in some forgotten corner of Hell. It was as if the purely negative substance of Hell had brought his strength back, and returned him to full power, even perhaps making him a little more perky.

“This could get interesting,” he mumbled as he entered the tunnel marked “SAIYAN”. No doubt there would be some formidable fighter on the other side, but nothing really seemed to matter. Saint Dane felt like he could overcome anything.

It took a few moments for him to realize that was walking in total darkness, yet he could see perfectly, as if he were standing on a sunny beach. Even stranger was they he COULD tell it was pitch black. If he could see perfectly, how did he know? There was no difference in his vision, so that couldn’t be it.

“Or it could get odd.”

A few moments later the tunnel opened up… into a tiny room… with a hole in one wall that was about three feet wide and just as much deep. “Well… here goes nothing!” he said almost joyfully, dropping to all fours and crawling through the short hole, which almost immediately opened into a massive room, so much so that he couldn’t see the walls, except for the one he had just went through.

He didn’t have long to admire the scene though, because something grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up like a baby. When he spun in air to face whatever was holding him he froze. All he could see was a giant, magnificent… eye ball.

Nothing else, just an eye ball.

“It has been many long years since Drakkil sent me a toy!” the giant cyclops exclaimed, his voice so powerful it vibrated Saint Dane’s ear drums painfully.

Eager to get away from what he felt was sure to try and eat him, Saint Dane blinked hard once. His pupils glowed momentarily, then two thin red beams shot out of them, hitting the giant in the very center of his over-large eye.

Almost instantaneously Saint Dane was dropped. As soon as he noticed this, which was also pretty much instantly, he turned in midair and shot off to hide behind a small mountain, peering over it’s peak at the cyclops.

“ARG! WHY DO THEY ALWAYS DO THAT? GRAND KAI DAMN IT ALL. I HATE THOSE LITTLE PIP-SQUEAKS!” he roared, rubbing his watering eye furiously. The extremity of his voice shook the mountain Saint Dane had taken shelter in, giving the saiyan a slight respect for this strange new creature.

He decided it was time to find out some answers. “Shut up!” he yelled as loud as he could manage, which he hoped was just loud enough. “Now, tell me what is going on here! Where am I? What am I doing here, and WHO ARE YOU?”


Glancing at the walls as she walked, Tehran’he was surprised to see what looked like a timeline of the life of a changeling. It was drawn in elaborate hieroglyphs, and was done so perfectly that she could literally see the growth of the changeling as it went from birth, to abandonment, to insecurity, training, moving, disrespect, and a growing hatred of any and all sentient beings.

As she read the words, a growing fear entered her heart. The timeline seemed eerily similar to her life. Running forward, she reached the end of the hall. Mouth dry, she stared disbelieving at the wall. It showed an image of a changeling with a pulsating dark aura that stood in the middle of a tunnel. Shaking, she stepped out of the exit and into a wide, circular room. There was one alien standing there, right in the exact center.

The positioning of the alien is important because it was giving off rays of light under its own power. Being in the exact center caused a light that seemed to have no shadows. Tehran’he took a step forward, and noticed the temperature had risen. Immediately, she came to an abrupt halt. “Who are you?” she called.

The creature turned slowly, causing several long shadows to emanate, giving the room a far more realistic and appealing look. “Who dares speak to me in such insolent tones?” it boomed. The tone was quiet, but the sense of power that came with it was enough to fill any space it wanted.

Swallowing visibly, the changeling took another step forward. The being dimmed somewhat, making this small movement less than life-threatening. “I am Tehran’he,” she proudly called, “And am one of the most powerful beings in the universe! I come here in seek of great power, and you will give it to me.”

The thing asked one simple question, but the meaning behind it was enough to make the changeling flinch. “Why should I?”

Tehran’he boldly walked closer. She began to sweat, but ignored it. Stopping several feet from him, she got down on one knee. “Teach me, O master,” she intoned. “Help me.” It considered this in what was clearly a bemused air.

“As you wish,” it answered. “You only need do two tasks. First, you will step into the first river I ask you to, and will not come back out until you have destroyed your inner demons and come out, more in control and calmer of heart.”

He hesitated, before continuing. “Beware my son, young changeling; he is a dangerous and tricky foe.”

“Your son?”

“Helios. I assume you met him, or you would not be here.”

“The demon?”

“He IS my son, madam.”

“I apologize. Thank you for your advice. I will heed it.”

“Mmm. Follow me.” The creature seemed to turn off his brightness, and turned to a regular-looking human wearing bright orange clothing in blue jeans. He walked out the hole, not looking back, and the changeling followed, wondering just how hard this would be.


“POLYPHEMUS! THAT’S MY NAME. ZUES BE DAMNED, DID YOU HAVE TO GO FOR THE EYE? I’VE ONLY GOT ONE, AND IT HURTS LIKE YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE. GOD YOU HAD BETTRE HOPE I DON’T FIND YOU,” the Cyclops screamed in reply, finally stopping the furious rubbing of his massive eye and trying to squint through the puffy red thing to see Saint Dane.

It was obvious his eyesight was horrible right now, because the saiyan had just now risen up right in front of him, in plain sight. “Well, then, Polyphemus. Answer my other questions, and I won’t kill you,” Saint Dane threatened, although he was still unsure of whether or not he could do more than hurt the giant’s eye.

Either he really didn’t want to answer the question and his eyesight had returned, or he was extremely lucky, because Polyphemus smacked out with his hand, hitting Saint Dane and sending him drilling into the very mountain he had only just left the shelter of.

The saiyan quickly determined his opponent had indeed regained his eyesight, because before he could move a behemoth, beefy hand reached into the hole and snatched him out, bringing him close to Polyphemus’s face.

Just in case, the Cyclops squinted through the fingers on his other hand, ready to shield his eye if need be. “Now, let me crush your bones,” he laughed, squeezing his captive only slightly.

Despite the fact his opponent was applying minimal pressure, Saint Dane felt what seemed like hundreds of bones crack and break in the most painful of ways, or at least… that’s what he felt.

The immense pain caused him to scream. “AHH! STOOOOOP!” he tried his best to yell over the loud sound his snapping bones made. He didn’t even register that he probably only heard them because they were really his bones, and not because they were all that loud.

The cyclops stopped and brought him close again, forgetting to get his other hand ready to shield his eye. Wrong move. Just as Polyphemus opened his mouth to say something, Saint Dane let two more beams strike his large eyeball in the very center.

Again he was dropped, but this time, he stayed hidden. “OH MY GOD, NOT THIS A-FREAKING-GAIN. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

Saint Dane watched joyfully as the giant writhed in pain, his eye watering like a river, and turning a blotchy, bloated red.

Suddenly he noticed he couldn’t move, and breathing was like the hardest thing he had ever tried to do and actually succeeded in. Saint Dane didn’t try and do something and not succeed often, no matter how difficult. Breathing was hard.
His body turned slowly, telling him that something was controlling him, and that his feet weren’t touching the ground anymore. Before the saiyan stood a very foreboding figure, even more so that the demon he had met earlier, and that said something big.


Tehran’he squeezed through the small opening after the mysterious man of light, to open up into a huge cavern, filled with wondrous sights. Staring slack-jawed, she looked at walls of jewels, fountains pouring out liquid gold, plants made of the rarest metals in the universe, and more. There was also several beautiful rivers, making everything look brighter.

But out the corner of her eye, she noticed another river, but it seemed to be made out of sludge or something. Sighing heavily in resignation, she walked off in the direction of that river. “Where are you going?” the alien called. “This way!” Turning, the changeling saw him headed towards the most crystalline river in the entire cavern. Smiling for the first time since going underground, she trotted off after the still-unnamed man.

Upon reaching the river, she turned to him. “One request.” He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t respond. “What is your name?”

He smirked, and turned around. Suddenly, the alien was twenty feet tall, a burning pillar of pure fire. “I AM HYPERION, PILLAR OF THE EAST AND SON OF THE EARTH AND SKY THEMSELVES.” Despite the fact Tehran’he was looking directly at the alien, she got the distinct feeling that his voice was coming from more than one direction. But before she could ask about it, he was gone, leaving no more than a small wisp of flames that Tehran’he quickly captured and pressed to her chest.

The fire entered her body without burning her, and she felt confidant. Powerful. Invincible, even. The voice of Hyperion gave one last reminder from the distant corners of the Underworld. “YOU NOW HAVE MY POWERS IMBUED WITHIN YOU… USE THEM WELL.” On that happy note, Tehran’he dove into the icy-cold waters of the River Styx.

And nearly died right then. The instant she jumped into it, dark creatures from her worst nightmares grabbed her limbs and pulled with all their might. Feeling tendons and muscles stretch, she called upon the power of Hyperion. A fierce glow circled her, a fire so pure that no being could use it without having contact with the Primordial Fire of the Beginning.

The shadow demons backed off, allowing a small path for her to walk through, deeper into this lake that was now seen as one of hidden dangers, of plots and conspiracies, and of nightmares so insistent, that fear of them is genetic.


Saint Dane stared into the eyes of perhaps the single and most powerful being he would ever encounter. He knew who he was looking at, but again, he did not, simply because he could not believe it. There was no way he was seeing what he was seeing, yet it seemed totally possible, at the same time.

“My lord…” he murmured, gulping and dropping to one knee. The immediate surprise of being able to move again made him rap his knee painfully against the rocky ground, but he ignored it and bowed lower, for he was in the presence of Hades, the God of the Underworld.

“Fool, rise to your feet. Bowing is for the weak, and never have you considered yourself one of the weak. Do not make me reconsidered my decisions, or you will never escape this world so thoughtfully created by Helios within my own domain.,” the god ordered, again forcing control over Saint Dane’s body to make him stand.

The saiyan tried to bow again, but found that again he could not move what so ever. “Yes, my lord, Keeper of Souls, Master of Shadow, Taker of Fate, Life Decayer…”

“Shut up!” Hades yelled, the brief spike making Saint Dane stand erect involuntarily. He would have gone on forever if the god had not stopped him. “Now listen, and listen closely. Helios has called you here purely for his enjoyment. He knows I do not allow him to actually leave this realm, except in spirit, and then he’s mostly harmless. His powers only go as far as what he did to you when you got “sick”.”

Over the initial shock of coming face to face with the greatest warrior the universe had ever known, Saint Dane was almost back to normal. “I’d say that’s quite a damn bit, I almost DIED.”

“Stop interrupting me, or as I said, you’ll never leave this place.”

Saint Dane didn’t heed to warning, and tried to continue, getting cut off again. “Right this minute, Tehran’he is going through a brief training process with Hyperion, God of Light and Father of Helios. No doubt she will come out far more powerful than she is now. Do you want her to surpass you, or do you want to accept my help so you can keep up?”

The saiyan needed no second bidding. His mouth was sealed until further notice.

“Good. To start with, take this as a gift. This is the Timoni apo Skotadi, the Helm of Darkness. This item is one that should never be taken lightly, for it holds many powers even I do not know of. But I give it to you because I have watched you, and watched you fight. I have seen how you go about things, and of what nature your attacks are. This will strengthen each and every one of your more demonic traits, as well as allow you to hide from any opponent, no matter how strong they may be. While you use this helmet to hide, only I will be able to see you, because the very fabric of the shadows around you will be twisted to keep you hidden, and as I am Master of Shadows, I can see clearly though them. I warn you, do NOT take this gift lightly, for one day it will save your life.”

Finished speaking, Hades pulled off his helmet, revealing long, unruly black hair, and a messy, unkempt beard.


Striding confidently into the darkening waters, she felt a chill grow around her. She had the power of Hyperion around her, but still. She was going extremely deep into a river that had looked shallower than a kid’s pool. Snatching glances to the left and right when possible, she saw much the same thing. Bodies of what looked like spirits haunted her, and past them, nothing in the thickening gloom.

Eventually, however, her path came to an end in what looked like an underwater arena. She could see it because of her fiery glow, but even with that, she could barely see more than three feet in any direction.

Without warning, she was tackled by what seemed to be the heavyweight champion of the underworld. Tackling her, the man quickly put the changeling into a half nelson, choking her esophagus with his mighty arm. But he didn’t seem to know that she could control fire and electricity, because when she powered up, letting the familiar power course through her, the electricity shot through the water easily, killing the demon instantly.

Looking around, she saw hundreds of demons falling dead, just at that simple act. It seemed too easy. And it was. Suddenly, she took a breath, and coughed immediately. She was breathing in water! For some reason, she hadn’t noticed, but she had been breathing underwater. Killing the people who control this place killed the magic, so suddenly she was a regular living creature too far underwater to save herself.

Fear gripped her heart, but still, with her bit of self-preservation left, she paddled up the path as fast as she could. Almost instantaneously, she took another breath, and yet again coughed up liquid from the River Styx. She began to see darkness from the edges of her vision. She calmed. Death would be much simpler than this, she decided. And with her fear of death gone, she paddled upward as before, but slower, and more rhythmically, as though she knew she was dead and didn’t care. Which she did.

Without warning, the changeling appeared on the shore, spluttering and gasping for breath. Hyperion stood above her, looking proud. “You have done it,” he said. “Your only fear was one of a mortal death, as most all heroes do. But now, you understand, don’t you?”

She wanted to explain how she ‘understood’ that she would need to kick his ass for that, but instead, she merely nodded. “Yes, sensei. That was a wise lesson. I will forever heed this one, for it could mean the difference between success and failure.”

Nodding sagely, he smiled. “Now come. Your final challenge will be much simpler now I have helped you. But he is still a formidable foe. Be wary of him.” Steering the still-shaky changeling in the direction of loud cheering and jeering, Hyperion felt secure knowing that his son’s demise would soon occur. And for it to happen in the realm of death itself was more than appropriate.


Saint Dane reached out, allowing Hades to place the sacred helmet, which possessed untold of powers, in his arms. When the god didn’t let go right away, his instant reaction was to pull it closer to him, because it was surely his now, and no others.

Hades must have noticed this, after all, it was pretty visible. The chose to ignore it though, and stepped back as Saint Dane held the helmet aloft, before placing it on his head.

Anything he had ever felt before was forgotten. This was crazy. There was no way something could be so evil, yet so perfect. But here it was. The Helm of Darkness had imbued him with a strength he had never known. Not only that, but he felt faster, smarter, more cunning. His guile was at top marks now. Nothing could stop him, except by some crazy raw strength that very few possessed.

“Now go and destroy Polyphemus, prove to me that I have not given up my most powerful item to a fool who won’t use it as it was meant to be used,” Hades commanded him.

Although he had no will to disobey the Olympian God, he felt like he couldn’t anyways. His body was tugged away moments before he made the movement himself. A few seconds later, he was rising through the air towards the gigantic Cyclops, who had long since recovered from his two eye attacks and had decided Saint Dane was one of those he didn’t care to bother with anymore, at least not if it meant too much effort.

Polythemus saw Saint Dane and laughed, cracking his knuckles. “You’re pretty stupid, aren’t you?” he jeered, walking towards the saiyan, not that they were any great distance away, at least not for the cyclops.

Saint Dane’s eyes never left his target, the point right above the sternum and below the Adam’s Apple, where the neck was the weakest. As Polythemus reached out to grab him, this time with the intent of killing him for good, the saiyan disappeared from sight, the power of the Helm of Darkness working it’s magic.

A second later the giant grasped at this throat, coughing and sputtering as if he were choking on something. Blood ran down his chest and back from two nearly opened holes in his wind-pipe, which Saint Dane had drilled with his own body.

The cyclops fell to two knees, then on his back, as he came closer and closer to death. “Now sleep, and never return,” Saint Dane said with disgust, appearing closer to Polythemus.

A slight touch on the forehead from the little saiyan, and the Cyclops eyes closed one final time.

Now it was time for business, aware that Hades was watching, whether from nearby or through the shadows, Saint Dane disappeared, in reality just moving so fast most couldn’t see him as any more than a blur.

Less than a second later he stood in the exact spot that he had found himself in when the demon had teleported himself and Tehran’he into the Underworld. Tehran’he was beside him, he noticed, and she had an odd glow about her.

Before he could say anything, the demon appeared in a plume of smoke, right in front of them.


“Helios,” Tehran’he gutturally rasped, voice filled with untold hatreds. Turning to her right, she saw Saint Dane, who also seemed to have been given a gift from one of the Gods. Raising an eyebrow, she glanced at the Helm, before turning to face the god of sunrise. “What is the final challenge?” she called out loud. Within her mind, she spoke to Dane: ‘Helios is a trickster. Be wary of him.’

The demon smiled innocently. “Kill anyone in this room, and you are free to go.” As if on cue, every single creature that had been watching left out of the room. Sighing, Tehran’he played along. “Hmm… who should I pick? You? You? You?” Each time, she pointed at air. “I know!” she seemed to decide. “I pick you, Helios!”

The demon blinked. “Why do you keep calling me Helios?” Tehran’he blanched.

“You have to be.”

“And why is that, puny changeling?” The voice came from somewhere behind her. Turning, she saw what looked like a bigger version of the demon she had been arguing with. “This is my brother, Krios. He was holding my stuff for me.” Smirking, he clapped the back of his brother and said, “Good job.” Taking the shield, sword, and Helm from him, Helios allowed Krios to leave.

Turning to face the pair, he gave a cruel grin. “And who’d like to fight me first?”

The changeling gave Dane a nod. Together, they charged into battle with one of their toughest foes yet. Tehran’he watched as Dane pulled out his katana, and went toe to toe with the demon. Helios was pretty fast with his blade, but Dane didn’t seem to be doing anything in the way of attacking.

On the contrary, he was using tried and tested methods of swordplay used t teach the user of stamina and agility. After realizing this, she realized he had given her an opportunity. He was undefended from any of her attacks now. But what attack would pack a punch that wouldn’t hit Dane as well?

Deciding she couldn’t do it, the changeling spread her legs wide, held out both arms, and called, “Dane, move!” Instantly diving to the right, he flew upward, avoiding any damage that Tehran’he’s attack may give. The demon had also dived away, but Tehran’he simply coolly readjusted her aim and muttered, “Flash Bomb.” Thousands of dark pellets of Ki pounded the demon, covering him in cuts and bruises and angering him immensely.

“Think that’s funny?!” he shrieked. Getting to his feet, he scoped in on Tehran’he and flew at her, sword blazing. Tehran’he noticed that when he fell, his shield came off. Speed Teleporting to it, she picked up the Shield of Helios, mesmerized by its power.

Somehow at that moment, it clicked: she would be dead right now if she didn’t have some of the Primordial Fire within her. Silently thanking Hyperion, she charged into battle against Helios, who was just now realizing he had attacked an afterimage of the changeling.


Saint Dane watched with amusement as Tehran’he charged held-on into battle with the demon known as Helios. His brief sword grapple had told him what he needed to know. Helios had immense strength, so much so that even trying to block his attacks were useless, but his speed was somewhat lesser than average. Because his torso was so muscled up, his balance was also off, and thus his form was horrible. This was a guy that ran into battle using his brute strength, and from what Tehran’he had told him, his cunning.

That was similar to Saint Dane himself, only the saiyan went with the classic combination of agility and guile. He noticed Tehran’he had picked up the flaming shield that Helios had dropped during the Flash Bomb bombardment.

“Interesting… I wonder what exactly that thing can do. Might as well put it to the test,” he decided, putting his hands together to form an “O” in front of his mouth.

“Kikoh,” he breathed through the hole. Instantly it began to glow, then, slowly, a larger ring formed around his body. It gained density, and then a deep red color. “Kikoh!” he said again, this time louder.

The large ring flew towards Tehran’he and Helios, whom had just made contact. “Tehran’he put your shield up!” he yelled.

The changeling glanced at him, realized what was happening, and did as he said. Helios, having lost his shield, was pure out of luck. The ring slammed into him, sending him skidding on his back. Finally a rock wall broke his head long “flight”.

Saint Dane rose into the air. He would give no quarter today. With his right hand held out, he fired a compact energy “bullet” at Helios, which made contact with and punctured his stomach.

The demon, too infuriated to care about the free-bleeding wound, flew at Saint Dane as fast as he could, trying to slice him in half.

At the last second, Saint Dane moved out of the way, leaving an after image behind to take the blow. With lightning reflexings, he sliced his own sword down his attackers back, leaving a long straight cut inches deep in his flesh. He had definitely gotten through some of the muscle.


Tehran’he watched with amazement as Saint Dane took apart Helios. After the sword strike cut through his back, he seemed to decide that he would go for the ‘weaker’ fighter, and flew back towards the changeling. She somehow knew, without knowing how she knew, that this was the way it was meant to be.

Not understanding what brought her to it, but she held out her arm with the shield at the last second before he slammed into her. Tehran’he waited, expecting a hit that would never come. Helios had flown straight into his own shield, forever imprisoned.

Almost instantaneously, a ring of fire circled the outer rim of the shield, making it several inches longer, and much more formidable. “It’s… it’s done,” she called. Dane came downward, in shock at what his eyes had seen.

“Is he coming back out?”

“I don’t think so.” And the proof of that was in the center of the shield. It now held Helios’s symbol, an upside down U. “So how do we get out of here?” she asked, the obvious next question. But of course, an unexpected man gave the unexpected answer.

“I can help with that,” Krios said. “It’s the least I can do…” his voice trailed off as he noticed Dane’s blade sticking under his neck.

“Get Hades here.”

“No need,” Hyperion called. “The Lord of the Dead has many things to attend to, but I can get you up there just fine.” Dane still looked wary, until Tehran’he explained.

“This is Hyperion, father to Helios, and much better overall.”

Dane nodded, not that he really understood. “Ready?” Hyperion asked. Both nodded. “One.” His hands were both raised. “Two.” They eased closer to the fighters’ foreheads.

“Wait a minute, I don’t like this idea-” Dane was interrupted by Hyperion’s final word:


The tips touched their frontal lobes, instantly transporting them back to Frost’s palace at the exact instant they had left. “Oof!” Tehran’he smacked the ground hard.

“What the… how in the… who in the… what happened?” Frost seemed at a loss for words. The changeling felt a little clueless herself.


Saint Dane didn’t like it, but either way, his transportation back to Frieza ended up coming from Hyperion, whom Tehran’he said was Helios’s dad. After just now fighting Helios to the death, he hadn’t exactly been eager to trust the guys dad, but hey, everything seemed fine now.

Lord Frost was absolutely dumb-founded. “Where did that- How did you- where did you GO?” he yelled, unsure of what to say exactly.

Saint Dane got up on his feet, for the Hyperion trip had left him sitting on the floor for some odd reason.

“Well, master, we went through a rigorous adventure that will no doubt have a lasting effect on both of us, very likely permanent. We have both come to some personal realizations, and over come some inner demons. I think it is time we leave Planet Frieza, master. You knew we could not linger forever.”

The changeling, somewhat calmed, sat back on his throne. “Yes, I knew you would have to leave eventually. I just hate that it is so, you two are perhaps the most valuable think in the entire changeling empire, next to myself, of course. I hate to see two soldiers as great as you leave my ranks,” he said thoughtfully. Truly, he was somewhat frightened by the two fighters. They possess such skills and an ever growing power, that he feared they may one day decide to take the throne from him, and by that point, it may just be possible. Still, he could not kill them because the chance existed they would become powerful affiliates of his empire, and could help take down the other galactic kingdoms, including the ever persistant saiyans.

With a sigh, he continued. “You are both free to leave, I await the time we meet again, hopefully you two will be on my side when that time comes. Good-bye and farewell, my students.”

Saint Dane bowed one last time, then walked out of the room. It was Tehran’hes turn for a brief good-bye, then to go and prepare her things to leave the planet.


Tehran’he stepped forward and bowed deeply. “It has been an honor serving you, sir,” she whispered. Getting back to her feet, the changeling gave a nod to Frost, did an about face, and followed Dane out the door. Giving him a swift elbow jab, she asked, “Where to now, MASTER?” She chuckled softly.

Not waiting for an answer, not that it could be guaranteed he even would have responded, she jogged slowly for the door, deciding to do one more quick training session before leaving Frieza at dawn. However, stepping outside, she saw the first rays of sunlight peek across the horizon.

Frowning, she thought to herself, ‘Why is it whenever I get in a good mood, everything conspires against me?’ Deciding that it was fate trying to build character, she let it be, and almost jumped into the sky, before noticing something. On the shield was a small drop of golden liquid. She gasped. It was a drop of ichor, the blood of Helios.

Quickly touching it with her finger, she contemplated. The Gods’ blood was said to increase power exponentially. Of course, this was merely a drop, but she assumed every bit helped, so she held the finger to her tongue and swallowed.

It tasted slightly sour, but immediately after it dropped down her throat, she felt rejuvenated. In fact, her aura contracted just from tasting the blood. She assumed that if she had eaten Helios, she would have take on the fourth form right then and there. But as of now, she had no way to attain it, so little power jumps would have to suffice.

So, slapping the shield on her back, and leaped into the sky, flying with the currents so she would reach the apartment even quicker. Tehran’he wanted the first trip off this planet for the day, and intended to get it. And so, reaching her apartment, she packed all her things, waited painstakingly for Dane, and set out for planets unknown.

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PowerLevel : Good bye
Ki : 77,447,800
Transformations : Oozaru <> kaiokin <> False super sayian <> super sayian <> super sayian 2 <> super sayian 3 <> golden oozaru <> super sayian 4 <> super sayian 5 <> Super Sayian 6 <> Super Sayian 7 <> Super Sayian 10 <> Super Sayian 11 <> Super Sayian 13
Tehniques : Super Duper Final Mega Big Bang Blast Kamehameha X70 <> Super explosive wave <> Super Mega Final Big Bang Kamehameha x20 <> Revenge death ball <> violent thunder <> super slining slasher basher <> solar flare <> fusion dance <> after image <> Super Mega Death Ball <> Super Final Big Bang Kamehameha <> Kamehameha <> Spririt Bomb <> Super Dragon Fist <> Instant Transsmission <> angry kamehameha <> energy feild <> Super Kamehameha <> Final Kamehameha <> Big Bang Attack
Battle Points : 154
Zeni : 600,048,050
Items : 5 ultimate senzu beans, prince's scouter, king's armor, Z-sword Sword, Weighted armour
Posts : 601
Join date : 2010-07-16

PostSubject: Re: The Between   Thu Sep 30, 2010 5:41 am

433,700 pl ki and zeni 86 bp
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The Between
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