East City, like most of Earth's major metropolis areas, was quite the hub. The ship was guided into the Spaceport District on the invisible rails of auto-pilot, following a pack of freighters and a few smaller shuttles. The docks themselves were an elaborate construct meant to manage and contain ships. They had tiers and layers, each one ringed on top of each other in what appeared from faraway as a convoluted mess. Despite that, there was infarct order and structure to the chaos.

The lower tiers had berthings that were far more open and accessible to unloading bots. They were for commercial ships and traders. The mid tier were moderate sized docks, big enough to fit personal ships and each one was self contained for security. Pilots received full service operations, with bots to repair and refuel while they paid visit to the area. Typically only wealthier visitors could afford the luxuries. The top levels were a mess of open spots, much like a glorified parking garage. It came down to find a spot that was open. If not, you were rerouted to another city, didn't matter how inconvenient.

Marte had made sure they got a private dock, even for the steep price. The ship settled down on its landing skids, hissing with hydraluics and the clicking and popping
of cooling heat panels. The ramp opened up and wasting not a moment, Lute strode down.

"Master, wait."

Lute stopped, gloweirng back at Marte.

"What do you want me to with that guy?"

"Make sure he doesn't die. At least until I can find someone who is able to break the spell on him."

---

Several hours later.

Lute cruised through the sky as a streak of amethyst, his aura blazing bright and pushing him along a supersonic speeds. He came to the stop over the ruins of an abandoned town, half of it sinking into a muddy brown river. The structures were enveloped in vines and vegetation, and coated with the slime of algae the morose of decay. 

Most wizards had only a very small grasp on magic's true capabilities. Finding one with the right knowledge and power to do what he wanted, wasn't easy. For many years, Lute had used Earth as a headquarters for his business. He had owned a bar in Central City, where folk who followed the right breadcrumbs could find him. It was often occupied by weirdos and criminals. Marte had run the business, even as just a kid, taking care of things while Lute hid behind the curtain. The place was annhilated out when Lord Glacio attacked North City during the Frieza Force invasion of Earth at the height of the Saiyan War. A shame, meaning he had to go find his former patrons and clients in person.

Fortunately, all those years gave him plenty of options. Loopy Lars was hit or miss, but he lurked close to Easth City making him the next stop. The guy was ancient, way older than any any human had a right to be. Probably why he had gone crazy.

Lute floated down, landing what had once been the main street of the town. Ankle deep in water, his eyes canned the rubble. He made his presence known through his aura, letting the intensity of his malice and power seep out. Lars would recognize it.

His keen Namekian ears caught the sound of something shifting and he whipped around. Poking up out of the waters was a tree and within the tree a face with a knobby nose. The mouth opened to a huge grin and the tree's trunk began to peel. Loopy Lars emerged from it, shaking off bark and moss. He wore a crooked hat and a dusty old coat covered in stains. The staff he carried was quite the contrary to his disheveled appearance, a smooth length of black adamant with a pearl capping it The multi-colored gem gleamed bright in the light.

"What does an evil bastard like you want?" Lars asked.

"I need you to help me break a powerful enchantment," Lute said.

"Why not ask Hachi?" Lars said. "Heard you been best buds with him lately."

"He's busy."

Lars vanished and appeared in a puff of smoke atop the overgrown and rusted out skeleton of a car. It's front end stuck out of a deeper section of the waters. Both of his shrunken legs kicked up and down with nervousness. "Can't help you. I'm no good at that kind of stuff. Nature magic is my specialty."

"Fine. Tell me about someone who can."

"You need a Nevermore. They were the very best. The best I say. Oh-ho-ho-oh!"

Lute growled and pinched the bridge of his nose. Sometimes he hated dealing with magic-wielders. "Where do I find this Nevermore?"

"Not here."

"Obviously," Lute said. Dark ki began to rise from his pores like smoke. "I'm not going to play riddle games with you. You have three seconds."

"Used to have a castle. Castle no-more for the Nevermore. No more. Lives in a mushroom, deep in the woods. I show, I show!"

Psychic images entered Lute's brain, vivid and precise. He saw this Nevermore person's quaint home, offset in the nature. Another hermit. Why is that the trend among these maniacs?

Lute left Loopy Lars to his antics, erupting in a violent flash of ki as he took to the skies.

WC: 899 | TWC: 1,865
Lilith Nevermore

Night had come, the last fringes of ruby and saffron in the sky fading to deep indigo and black. Tens of thousands of stars glittered in a beauty both natural and surreal. Lute had frequented Earth many times, yet was far from an expert on its geography. He cruised above the treeline of a vast tract of wilderness. The planet was far more dense than New Namek, everything closer together yet more convoluted. It had a variety of micro-climates, from the frozen north to the barren deserts and humid jungles of the equator. The best part, was he was going off a slight inkling placed in his mind by some crazy mud wizard who could walk out of trees.

After spending so many years as a hit-man and assassin, he didn't really know what to take of his sudden involvement in the mystical scene again. As a former member of the Dragon Clan, he had learned to weave spells. He still remembered them all and used them frequently. But, he had never become a master nor delved into the true secrets. He had turned down the path of the warrior instead, doing a full three-sixty. Despite that, he had run into more than on occasion where his magical skill helped him clinch a win. Only in situations like this did he regret his change in interest. For years he had hunted dusty libraries and hidden sanctums, not for the utility spell casting, but for the long forgotten methods of gaining immense power. If he had studied a bit more, he may have learned the power necessary to extract memories.

I'm close now.

His keen eye caught the sight of a mountain in the distance, its peak slightly hooked, as if it had been carved away by some unnatural force. More than like that was true, a number of strong beings had fought on Earth, especially in recent years. The wind and rain didn't cause that sort of strange malformation of the terrain. It was the first land mark Loopy Lars placed in his mind. With his fingernail, he traced the tangle of trees, directing him to a larger grove that spanned the bottom of a vast valley.

Coming to a stop, he descended and hit the ground in mid stride. Both his feet crunched on the brush and loose plant debris. He made no heed to be quiet or careful, barreling forward with usual confidence and swagger. Looking left and right, constantly suspicious of magical traps, he almost walked straight into the mushroom hut. Folding his arms he studied the oddity for a long moment, reaching out with his sixths sense for what lurked beyond. A person was inside, but their energy felt low and fading. His keen ears picked up on a steady but slow heartbeat. The person clearly was asleep.

"Nevermore?" Lute called out. In the quiet of the night, his voice was a booming drum.

Stepping forward, his knuckles rapped the door. Sure, he could have tore it off its hinges and demanded Nevermore do what he wanted. But, that would have just caused more problems. He had been patient thus far, and it wouldn't be much longer before he reached his goal. Progress was what mattered and he was a step further down the path than hours before.

"I am Lute of the Demon Clan. I have come to request your service."

WC: 572 | TWC: 2,437
Lilith Nevermore

HOLLOW THE HIDDEN CITY, Dining Hall of the Triumvirate

The trio sat at different sides of the triangular table of crystalline glass. It hovered off the polished black floor, no legs to make it stand, suspended by an unseen force. Prince Uno reached for his glass of wine, picking it up with eloquent hands and sipping ever so careful. The liquid fell through his mask and into his mouth, with no indication of how or why. The mask itself hid his face in the entirety, a blank sheen of chrome, as though it were made of the purest mercury. Gazing into the mask meant gazing into one's face.

The Three Princes all wore the same mirrored face. Their real identities and passts all remained a mystery. Because, to be a member of the Triumvirate, meant one had to absolve their ties to their previous life and rule from a place of pure objectivity. Or at least, that was the idea. It seldom happened. Casting aside one's identity wasn't a simple task.

Prince Dos plucked a bright yellow berry from a platter, studying it for a long moment before plopping it into his unseen mouth. A dramatic twinkling of a melodic piano song played in the background for ambiance. It was a song of perfect harmony and whimsical symmetry.

"You seem sullen Uno," Prince Tres said.

The third of the trio sat slouched in his chair, foot rapping on the stone floor. Unlike the other two, he was quite lanky and tall. Prince Uno often chose to ignore him and his unsettling lack of formality. He acted like a petulant child, but he was an observant one. Even without seeing any expressions, he had an inkling of Uno's ire.

"Not sullen. I have a security concern I would like to deal with. But, I am trapped at this dinner."

"No one is forcing you to stay," Prince Tres replied, a hit of humor in his voice.

"Tradition is tradition. The Triumvirate eat together," Prince Uno said. In contrast, his voice was sharp and his words punctuated.

"You have yet to bring your concern up to us," Prince Dos said. "Should we be worried? The Hidden City has not been discovered for over a thousand years. We have remained safe, even during the reign of Lord Frieza."

"My spies tell me that there's someone hunting for the city's location. Quite relentlessly."

Prince Tres giggled. "That's nonsense. An outsider? How would they even know we exist?"

"It wouldn't be the first time someone learned about us. We have had defectors in the past."

"So, is this person tied to a defector or no?"

"I don't think so. That's why this is troubling to me. He's some Namekian. I have no idea how he knows about us. But, I fear the longer he's allowed to search for us, the closer he will get. It's only a matter of time. If he can unmake the spell on the traders that come here, he can learn of our location."

Prince Dos slammed his fist on the table. The entire thing rattled and shook. Wine spilled out of Prince Uno's cup and he frowned beneath the mask, his head tilting at a very slight angle. Bad manners were irritating, even more than than the persistent outsider.

"You should have told us right away. I can't believe you're bringing this up at dinner," Prince Dos shrieked. He threw his napkin down like a bratty child.

"I wanted to look into it and gather further intelligence first. But, Prince Tres pressed me on the matter before I was ready. That is very unfair," Prince Uno, heat rising in his voice.

"Kill the outsider. I don't see what the big deal is. You too worry way too much about the small things. I'm here for the big picture, remember?" Prince Tres said.

He reaching across the table Tres took four berries from the dish. He plopped them into his unseen mouth all at once proceeding to chew in a purposeful barbaric manner. Prince Uno's composure almost melted away into blinding white rage. But, he took a deep breath. Instead, he fixed his ruffled collar and stood, giving a curt bow to his peers.

"The security of the Hidden City is my Prime Jurisdiction. I will summon some of the Aetherguard and take care of him. Kill him, if I must."

"Great," Prince Tres said with a shrug.

Prince Uno's heels clapped across the floor as he stomped out of the Dining Hall, slamming the granite door shut with one hand. It closed with a monstrous boom, shaking the entire wing of the palace. The hooded guards propped at each side of the door recoiled back, surprised at both the strength of their lord but also with his unusual display of emotion.

---

Small house, small woman.

Lute wasn't surprised. He had to duck beneath the doorway just to get inside and almost bumped into a shelf close by the door. Lucky for Lady Nevermore, he was quite nimble on his feet. The Namekian couldn't help but gawk at her modest living quarters. For someone who demanded the respect of aristocracy, it was sad. He was naturally curious to why her family had lost their castle and how she had come to live in a mushroom in the woods. But, those questions also weren't relevant to the task. Instead of press her on the matter, he decided to get straight to business.

"Your talents are quite renowned. I am in need of a witch of considerable skill, to break a very powerful spell," Lute explained. "In my past, I too studied magic. Although, I abandoned it before my skills were complete, due to circumstances. Yet, I know enough to understand the type of spell placed. I believe it's a spell that suppresses memory."

Lady Nevermore used her magic with practiced ease, shrinking a magic pot and beginning some sort of herbal concoction. She wasn't shy about her power and that was reassuring. Those with magical talents often were, hiding and acted ashamed of the amazing power they had earned. That was more irritating than anything to Lute.

He wondered how he should proceed. There was a risk that she had a conscious and would not agree to torturing a man for information or ripping it out of their skull. "If you possess the power for it, I need you to extract the memories hidden in the mind of a man that I've taken prisoner. He's a criminal, nothing more than scum. So you need not worry about consequence. I can pay you a large monetary sum for this task, if that's a thing you desire."

WC: 1,120 | TWC: 3,557
Lilith Nevermore

Lute was beginning to like Lady Nevermore. She cut straight to the chase, she didn't sweat the small details. The only thing that seemed to give her pause about the situation is how she would benefit from it. Some people would call that bad customer service, or even poor manners. Lute didn't see things that way. He never thought a person should help another person without any sort of compensation or reward for their service.

It was definitely an intriguing notion that she had no use for money. Then again, many wizards seemed to live humble lives with little materialism. Hachi owned a tea-shop in East City. There he practiced the arcane arts in secrecy. The shop itself was just a front for him, a way for him to enjoy his hobby of tea making. Lute wondered why he didn't just make his talents obvious, to be recognized for pedigree of his strength. Loopy Lars lived in the swampy ruin of an abandoned town on a river, an even worse scenario. No one even knew who he was at all.

Maybe it was the breadth possibilities. Magic could do anything, or at least that's what the rabble often believed. The kind of attention that a famous wizard would get for their talents would be overwhelming. Then again, Lute would solve that debacle by making the people fear him. They wouldn't approach if they knew there were dire consequences. It was that simple. Then again, the Namekian a different sort of breed. The more he dwelt on the thought, the more he began to wonder if he was overthinking it.

Maybe wizards were just awkward nerds and introverts, choosing to live alone and in humble quarters because it was quieter that way.

He debated grabbing her by the throat and squeezing until she did what he wanted. A malicious and dark thought, but a realistic one. Taking things, that was the way of the strong. But, he was wise enough to realize it also caused problems. One had to pick their battles and enemies carefully. If Lady Nevermore was truly a magic-weaver of some renown, it was better she want to help him of her own volition. In some cases, it was better to make allies than it was to make enemies. In his goal to destroy the gods, Lute needed many more people to help him. It was annoying sometimes, but he was a realist. They had to be the right allies, ones willing to make hard choices and embrace the truth of the universe.

"If money doesn't interest you," Lute said and shrugged. "Perhaps we can exchange favor for favor. I used to be an assassin, but have since retired from that occupation with aims of a more... ambitious goal. Never the less, if you need someone dead, I can make that happen for you. Otherwise, you'll have to tell me what I can offer you to move this forward. If it's within reason, I'll consider."

WC: 503 | TWC: 4,060
Lilith Nevermore

She has facade of dignity and self-worth. Yet this girl lives humble, but not by her own volition. Pride won't let her admit that's she's starving and struggling. Good--pride means she values her self-worth and her own strength.

Lute thought for a long moment on how to respond to her request. He knew of many mystical places, had sifted through old libraries and dilapidated archives on numerous abandoned worlds. On Konats he had perused an entire market full of magical trinkets and items, all on display and offered as though they were mere household items. He had been to the Demon Realm and been exposed to dark magic beyond the mortal capabilities.

But, it had all been... lackluster. Lute was never interested in cantrips and legerdemain. He only wanted power, raw and unrestrained. Most magic was tedious and easily replaced by equivalent technology. Why punch open a portal across the galaxy? It could collapse or go awry if you failed to engrave one rune, or utter the syllable of an ancient word incorrectly. Starships were far safer and more reliable alternative.

"I will tell you why I need you to to extract the memories of the prisoner. Perhaps that will be enticing enough to earn your assistance."

In a casual manner, he leaned against one of her bookcases and crossed his arms. Being seven feet tall, he looked like an adult inside of a kid's playhouse. He basked in the warmth of the crackling hearth-fire. It reminded him of the days of his youth, clamored around the ethereal bon-fire in the Temple of the Dragon on New Namek. Despite all his angst towards the past, it was still a fond memory. It had been a time before things changed, before his own people refused to see his potential and step outside of their foolish dogma of peace.

"As I said earlier, the man is a criminal--a smuggler to be exact. He transported goods to a place called Hollow. It's also known as the Hidden City, and only spoken of in whispers. I learned of it from a wizard in the Demon Realm who used their knowledge a bargaining tool for their life. It's an ancient locale, tucked away somewhere in a storm-wracked nebula in deep space."

Sure, it sounded like utter fantasy. Lute spoke the words with the utmost enthusiasm and truth. Because, he had seen the visions--felt the power that place contained. He knew it was real.

"The city was built inside of the skull of some long dead and gargantuan demonic monstrosity. At least, that's what I saw in the vision the wizard offered, real and true as most transferred memories are. It's a place of foreboding strength, like a slice of the Demon Realm brought here, and I will to claim it for my own. I imagine the presence of such dark power has drawn in many wizards over the ages. That's probably how it's remained undiscovered for so long. From my investigations I uncovered that any spacer commissioned to travel there has their memory wiped, if they're weak of will, or suppressed if they are strong of will. I've gone through a lot of weak-minded duds in my search. Until my most recent prisoner. As I questioned him, I could a hint of magical energy each time he was ready to confess. And he would babble about nothing for long minutes, as though it the spell had scrambled his thought patterns."

He rubbed his chin and gave her a fanged smirk. "All that aside. Here's my final offer. Once I take the city for myself, you're welcome to study its hidden secrets and whatever magical lore is contained there. You have my word."

WC: 611 | TWC: 4,671
Lilith Nevermore

Seven of the Aetherguard stood in a row inside of the teleportation chamber. They wore silver cloaks over their enchanted black armor. In their grips were alabaster staves, made from a rare wood that onl could be found within Other World. Topping those staves were onyx gems etched in strange runes that seemed to bleed raw arcane power. The individuals underneath the uniforms were of a variety of races from all across the galaxy. Despite that, their discipline was without compromise. Even the best soldiers and mercenaries in the galaxy looked like slouches compared to the elite of Hollow.

Prince Uno entered, dressed in similar outfit. Instead of black armor, he wore armor some of the a mirrored alloy--much like the faceless mask upon his head. Also, he did not carry a staff. He didn't need one to channel his power. His training and natural talent far exceeded that of his subordinates.

"Is the teleportation ritual prepared?"

The Aetherguard tapped their staves on the stone floor in a resounding unison. This was an affirmation. They were forbidden to speak to the Three Princes unless directly addressed. Doing so was a crime punishable by having one's tongue removed. Savage, but it tended to keep the backtalk to a minimum. In the center of the chamber was a large construct made out of interlinked metal circles. Each circle had within it granite blocks, deposited six on one side and six on the other. Candelabras surrounded the construct on all sides. Each prong set with bright crimson candles, their wicks alight with a azure flame. Incense burned from holders upon tables in each corner of the room, filling it with a musky aroma. The spell was set, they need only engrave upon the stones the runes of destination and they would be whisked away.

Prince Uno tapped his foot on the floor outside of the construct. A hidden panel slid back in front of him and from it a pedestal with a crystalline ball floated up in front of him, suspended on a current of raw mana. Inside of the ball mist swirled around and within he caught fleeting glimpses of people and things. After waving his hand over it a few times in quick succession, he spoke a command.

"Show me Lute of the Demon Clan."

The mist within peeled back to reveal the image of the green-skinned man and an unknown woman flying across a night sky. Using his long fingernails, he moved them past the orb, swiveling and panning the vision so that he could make out their locale. The illuminated shape of East City on the horizon gave it all away--no mistaking, it was Earth. Prince Uno had visited the planet many times over the centuries. It was a wonderful destination for both cuisine and fine art. Earthlings had a high culture, one ever on the rise. He sometimes enjoyed his incognito visits there far more than even the galactic melting pot of Abbayor. Things were far more consistent. 

"Our destination is East City on Earth."

The Aetherguard moved into position, the ends of their staff to score runes into the  granite bocks inset on the metal rings. These carvings were similar to coordinates entered into a ship, they told the spell where to be pointed. After finishing, the lot of them joined in a circle to focus their mana into the construct. Moments later it which began to spin, kicking up speed and velocity with a loud whirring sound. The air crackled as a temporal rift was opened up. On the other side, Prince Uno could see a rice paddy outside of East City.

One by one they stepped through, the rift collapsing behind once all had ventured.

---

The cover of night made flying around the city without attention must easier. Earthlings knew about ki and about those that could wield it. They knew it enabled flight. But, many of them had never seen such a sight. Lute hated their gawking and sounds of awe anytime he did it. So, typically he traveled by foot through cities.

The enormous tiered structure of the spaceport came into view within moments. He touched down flight into full stride. The double doors into the private dock opened automatically. The ship had been cleaned, repaired, and refueled. Marte sat in a lawn chair next to the ramp, a VR-headset on his head. He made somatic gestures as he played whatever game it was. Lute strode up to him and ripped the headset off with no mercy.

"H-Hey," Marte said and pouted.

Using a sharp fingernail, Lute switched the machine off and tossed it back into Marte's lap. The brown haired teen tilted his heada s he looked around the big green Namekian. There his eyes went wide at the the diminutive and macabre figure of Lilith.

"Who's the hotty Master?"

Lute grimaced and grabbed Marte by his chin. The kid often didn't know his manners, making trivial of serious situations. "This is Lady Nevermore. She's our guest. You will treat her with due respect."

"Ow," Marte said and ripped his head away. "I was just kidding. Hi--I'm Marte. I'm Lute's uh... butler?"

"Pupil," Lute corrected. He nodded towards the ship. "Is the prisoner still inside?"

"He fell asleep after you left. Poor dude was exhausted from all your... questioning."

WC: 893 | TWC: 5,564
Lilith Nevermore

"Once I got the information I wanted from him, I was going to turn him over to the Imperial Patrol," Lute said. "However, if it requires his life to extract the memories, I could care less."

"Damn," Marte quipped. "She's both good looking and brutal."

Lute glowered at the youth once more and then motioned for Lilth to follow him into the Marvel. In the dark of night, the expensive space yacht's cosmetic panels gleamed with the silver of moonlight. Lute found it gaudy, but it technically wasn't his ship--it was Marte's.

As he started up the ramp he paused. His senses were tingling, goose-flesh rising up his arm and a chill running down his spine. Something wasn't right. But, he couldn't put his finger on it. He took another step and the air around him went still, as if the wind itself had stopped. Looking back, Lilth and Marte were frozen, as though they had been recorded onto a video and paused.

"What the hell?" Lute said.

He tried to take a step back, but his body didn't move. Piercing agony wracked his head. Everything went white and he was falling. The world around him peeled away in layers, swirling and coalescing into a black void. As he plunged the icy feeling coursing over him got worse and worse until he felt as though he were neck deep in arctic waters.

The distortion of reality disappeared in a flash and he was on New Namek. Green skies rolled out before him. Islands of blue grass dotted the distance. Clouds drifted by carelessly. Peering down at his clothing, he found himself dressed in brown and gray cloth. A staff was in his hand, gnarled and worn from years of use. Namekian children darted past him, laughing at play. His brothers walked towards him, smiles on their face. They met him with warm embraces.

"We've waited for you to return Lute," one said. "We're so glad that you've changed your mind."

He couldn't speak, only stand there as others came up, clapping his shoulder and laughing. They loved him, they appreciated him.

---

"Shit, that's not good," Marte said.

Lute had collapsed face first onto the ramp without warning. He looked at Lilth, both of his amber eyes narrowing. "What did you do to him?"

Lilth would probably felt it way before him and it took Marte a moment to catch up. Someone was standing atop the ship. A man in mirrored armor with a face hidden behind a chrome mask. He floated down as though he were simply a feather on a breeze, such ease and grace, not even stirring a single molecule of dust or debris within the hangar floor as he levitated above Lute. Others ringed the platform now, having come out of nowhere. They were various xenos of different shapes and sizes. Each one was dressed dark armor, similar in style and cut to the mirrored man.

"This is fucked," Marte said. He threw his VR headset of his lap and jumped into an instant fighting stance.

---

Prince Uno was surprised the Namekian had gone down with such ease. He had been quite... nervous about casting that spell. It had drained him of a consdierable amount of his reserves. If the Namekian's guard had not been down, they would all be in trouble. He had felt the sheer volume of ki the bastard. So it was better this way, far easier.

He gave the duo a gentle bow. "My name is Prince Uno. I apologize for the sudden intrusion. But, this man is quite... persistent. I can't have him interrogating spacers anymore. Especially those that have visited the Hidden City. It's unfortunate--since you're involved with him, I'll have to deal with you as well."

"Psh. Like you weirdos stand a chance against me."

The blonde haired teen erupted with white light as an aura surrounded him. Uno perked a brow beneath his helmet at such power, for a youngster. But, it wouldn't be enough. The Aetherguard began to weave their spells. This would be over in a few seconds.

WC: 690 | TWC: 6,254
Lilith Nevermore

The members of the Aetherguard howled in agony as the ropes of Chain Lightning coursed over them. The blue glow of the electricity illuminated the entire docking platform. Static lingered and popped in the air. As unfurling fingers of it reached Prince Uno, they passed through him as though he were made of mist, dispersing his shape for a brief moment. He reformed just in time for Marte's to blink into view in front of him, fist cocked back. The blonde haired teen punched him straight in the face, but the mist happened again. The momentum of the missed blow carried Marte forward and he skidded to a stop on the other side of the parked ship.

The Aetherguard's spells had been interrupted. Most of them still stood on their feet, although the Chain Lightning left black scoring across their armor and with it damage to their insides. Before they could resume their incantation, True Dark took grip of them. They struggled to mutter counter spells, but most were left blinded and writhing.

Prince Uno shifted like aa foggy cloud across the platform, reshaping back into his humanoid form at the other side. He wagged his finger, glancing around with his mirrored mask at his men clawing at their faces.

"You are a strong witch. Let's see how you deal with this one."

He raised hand and clenched his fist. Ancient words, low and guttural echoed through the air as he wove the spell. It finished with a single command.

"Transmute: Air to Glass!"

In a bubble around Lilith, everything exploded into a thousand glinting shards. The very air itself having been transmuted into sharp fragments of glass. If she didn't hold her breath at the last second, it would also transmute the air inside of her lungs, shredding her from the inside out. Marte's eyes went wide with horror. Still, the duo were out numbered and he needed to do something. Aura burning bright, he charged at the Aetherguard surrounding the platform.

They were struggling with Lilith's blinding spell, so they didn't have much of a rebuttle when he started laying into them. The first guard he hit doubled over, bending around his fist, before getting slammed into the wall. No doubt his back was broken with the the weird way he fell and folded ontop of himself. Marte clobbered the next Aetherguard beside him with a spinning back kick, sending him sprawling and shattering his helmet. He grabbed the first's of the magical staff and used it to plow4 straight through a third guard stomach, using with the ruby quartz as a spearhead.

Blood sprayed in a line and he jerked hard, twisting it and at the same time the xeno in twain. The two halves of his body hit the ground with a sickening splat.

"Are you okay Lady Nevermore?" Marte called out.

He hoped she had made out of from that weird spell. He had never seen magic used in such a violent before. It was quite terrifying. Marte knew if he were going to get out of this alive, he needed her help.

---

A cool sea breeze tickled Lute's back as he sat with the children. He held an ancient tome in one hand and ran his finger alone the inscriptions on the page. These were vital lessons for the future of the Dragon Clan. The early seeds that would help forge them into powerful magic users. They repeated the old words he spoke, in unison. Their pronunciations were a bit weak, but that could be forgiven. It was the entire reason for this exercise.

"Master Lute," one child said. "What if I don't want to be in the Dragon Clan, what if I want to be a warrior?"

Lute smiled warm and inviting. "There are paths for all of us. With your strong Shoki, we thought you would make an excellent Dragon Clansmen."

"Really?" the child said, excitement emerging on his face.

"Yes. Warrior Clansmen typically have stronger Yuki, as they must fight to protect our people. But, you can train both aspects of your ki. Its encouraged that we all do. There have been great warriors who practiced martial arts and spellcraft. They were once known as the Super Namekians. However, some of them fell into darkness and selfish desire. They called themselves the Demon Clan, as an open way to defy our teachings of peace and harmony. They wanted to conquer and fight, much like the brutish Saiyans. A great conflict emerged and Old Namek was nearly destroyed. It suffered a horrible cataclysm, killing most of our people. Afterward, the Grand Elder Guru banished those that remained."

"They must have been really strong," another child added.

Lute frowned. "The Super Nameks were the strongest of our people. They traveled the stars and built a grand civilization. But, they lost sight of what was important--our connection to each other. They lost sight of--"

Anger swelled into Lute as though someone had dropped a hot coal into his stomach. He reeled a bit, brow drawn into a deep furrow. The children rushed to him to see if he was okay. He pushed them back and stumbled to his feet, taking his staff into his hand. The book fell onto the cobblestones. The three suns of Namek beat down on him as he stumbled away, leaving his students to gawk in confusion.

Water. He just needed a drink. The well was not too far off and when he reached it, he paused to look upon his reflection in the waters. His face was soft, his clothing traditional. It felt strange, it felt unfamiliar. Why did he feel like he was looking at someone else?

Cupping both hands, he disrupted the image of himself as he plunged his hands in and sipping from them. As the ripples stilled themselves, the reflection shifted. Another face was there, one see bright scarlet eyes and an an aura of malice, rolling out of each pore as dark tendrils of amethyst smoke.

"Is this me, is this what I've become?"

WC: 1,016 | TWC: 7,270
Lilith Nevermore

Prince Uno didn't even think it was remotely possible that he would run into another magic-user close to his level on Earth. Even his transmutation spell had failed to take this woman down. His Aetherguard were waning and being dismantled by the teen. The spell that he used to bring down the Namekian had taxed him. It wouldn't be long before his reserves were spent and he would be left defenseless to the red-eyed woman's spells. Before that happened, he had to finish the Namekian off. Killing him was the only way. Uno could always come back for the other two at a later date.

"Blessed Dispel," the witch said.

He grimaced beneath his mirrored mask as a soothing white light veiled Lute's body.

Swinging his hand up, he cast a spell of his own. "Shape Earth and Metal."

The ramp of the ship began to bend and morph as though it were made out of dough than metal. It coiled around Lute like a cocoon. Prince Uno exerted as much mana as he could to crush the Namekian's body, while he was till unconscious from the curse. He was at least somewhat successful, because he immediately saw purple blood oozing out between the cracks. He huffed with exhaustion, his knees buckling with weakness.

He hadn't exerted himself like this in centuries and felt a pang of regret for his negligence. Most of the time he lived in the lap of luxury. There had been little reason for him to train. For that he was suffering now. Perhaps sensing his moment of weakness, the teen flickered into place next to him, cracking him across the face before he could shift into mist form. The chrome faceplate of his mask caved in and he went skidding across the platform. Rattled now, he stumbled to his feet, quivering. The blonde teen was on him again, unleashing a frenzy of punches all the while screaming like a madman. Each punch hit, carving out huge holes in his body from their force. After a dozen or more, the rest of his body melted into a pool of black ooze.

The real Uno fell to one knee at the opposite edge of the platform. The dummy spell had drained him of his last reserves. He couldn't go on like this. More power was needed. So, he made a telepathic link to the remaining Aetherguard.

Sacrifice your power, give it to me.

Trained to follow his orders without question, each soldier opened up their spirits to him. Bright red tendrils erupted from Uno's fingertips, spiraling through the air and drilling into chakra points in the center of their torso. The disciplined guardsmen screamed wicked agony as he drained them of their vital essence, siphoning it back into himself. Emaciated and skeletal, they all collapsed. He withdrew the tendrils and got back to his feet, clenching his fist. 

A slow chuckle escaped his lips, gradually rising into a maddening laughter. It boomed out over the space port as raw energy coursed through his veins like hot lava.

"You're a sick fuck," the persistent blonde teen said. "Try to dodge this one."

Tilting his head, Uno saw that the kid had gathered a large amount of ki into a crackling sphere. Arm cocked, the sphere was released, flying at him with alarming speed. The prince pivoted on the ball of his right foot and swung his cape around. The ki sphere passing through it and vanished. That same instant it bust forth from reality above the teen's head, smashing into him resounding boom and a flash of light. The subsequent explosion shook the entire platform and carved out a huge divot in the duracrete. Wisps of smoke rose from the teen's tattered body as he lay in the center of it, face down and defeated.

"Now," Prince Uno said, turning to the witch. "I can focus on defeating you."

---

Lute's eyes flitted open to darkness. He was immediately met with the fact he was trapped in some sort of metallic coffin pressing down on him. It constricted his body, pushing both arms and legs closer and closer together. The crushing force was overwhelming. Lute hadn't gathered enough ki to protect himself, having been unconscious and vulnerable. Both of his arms broke with a sickening crunch. Next came his feet, which snapped inward, shattering both ankles. An avalanche of pain shot from his extremities and he was forced to bit his lip just to keep from screaming. The cocoon continued to squeeze, crumpling his rib cage and nearly popping his skull. 

He had less than a second before he was crushed to death. Resolve sparked him forth, amethyst ki shooting out in brilliant rays from the cracks in his deadly prison. It burst open like a grenade detonating. Lute sat up, blood trickling from his his mouth. He coughed a few times as his lungs filled with blood. Hazy and disoriented, he looked around. A battle was going on against some strange wizard with a mirrored mask. Marte was lying in the center of a smoking crater, defeated. Lilth seemed to be standing still, alone against this foe.

He lifted his malformed arm, pointing a shaky finger at her. Ki escaped in a long wispy ribbon from his hand and flowed into her aura. In that moment, Lute funneled a good portion of his deep reserves of malicious power to her. She would have to finish this fight, as he was far too battered to do so. The power came with a curse of its own. Lilth would feel in that moment the depths of Lute's hatred and corruption. It was an unending tide of rage, like a sun about to go supernova. 

"Kill him," the Namekian said through ragged breath.

WC: 965 | TWC: 8,235
Lilith Nevermore