10-20-2017, 12:08 AM
Koola dropped to his knees. His eyes blurred over, his heart beat thudding, sweat coating his face. Blinking, trying to absolve the white from his vision, he kneeled and thrust himself into a standing position. Vertigo overtook him, and he threw out his arms into thin air, taking small shuffling steps to regain his balance. He breathed out, finding that the burning in his lungs was a result of him holding his breath.
Breath?
Koola stared at his hands. Purple flesh covered his fingers and palms. Frowning, he flexed them, ensuring that he was indeed witnessing his own appendages operating at his thoughts. Where was the metallic steel of his artificial form?
"But ... I was a machine ... wasn't I?" the changeling prince said to the expanse.
Dredging up memories from the floor of his mind, Koola thought back. Much of his recent past was a haze. His long term recollection was fine though; scenes of battling the saiyan that killed Frieza replayed vividly in his mind, as did his surprising defeat and the inferno of the sun that almost claimed his life. For a time after the flesh sloughed from his cooked, tenderised bones, he only saw black, but once the Big Gete Star merged with him, he remembered every second of every moment thanks to the computerisation of his memories.
As the sole consciousness of a huge, robotic planetoid, Koola drifted through space, searching for resources to consume in order to continue fuelling himself and expanding the Big Gete Star. Several years went by where he acted as a devourer of worlds, sucking each planet dry of any and all valuable assets, including life. Eventually he came upon the namekian home only to be interrupted by Goku, Vegeta and the rest of their pathetic troupe. Spawning robotic versions of his base form and branding them Metal Koolas, he sent them to battle. The two dirty saiyans managed to destroy the first robot, but another thousand soon put them down.
Siphoning energy from their Super Saiyan bodies, Koola failed to realise the depth of the reserves and let his guard down. Funnelling him with more power than he could process, Koola soon overloaded, which gave the monkeys the opportunity to finally end the changeling prince.
But that barely begun to explain where he was now and why he had his old meat body back. Another memory swirled just out of his perception, as if it bookended his life and the beginning of this new existence.
But where could he be that would grant him his body back?
He sighed. "Hell. I'm in Hell, aren't I?"
He strolled over to a fountain, the only object in the entire bleary landscape. Built of skulls, crimson blood spurted from its apex and settled into the basin.
"Not exactly what I would call suitable," Koola said out loud, his eyes moving about as if someone would appear and greet him. "I was a prince to a genocidal empire. I erased entire cultures and civilisations from the face of the galaxy. And this is my punishment? A white void with a blood fountain? I think someone made a mistake somewhere."
Although maybe his punishment was to waste away in this mind numbing realm. Koola hated to be idle. An eternity of this could be worse than any torture inflicted on his flesh. Left with nothing but his thoughts.
Koola scowled, thinking about how he ended up here. To lose to a dirty monkey, and twice! Saiyans were twice as stupid as they were strong, and none of their kind had ever posed a threat to them. Even King Vegeta fell to Frieza's power, as did the majority of their flea bitten race when his younger brother destroyed their planet. And yet two remnants of that mercenary species not only held their ground but ultimately killed Koola and his family.
His first death to Goku was based on an underestimation. He felt foolish admitting it to himself, since he branded Frieza a bull-headed child for declaring his superiority to the saiyan despite mounting evidence to the contrary, but Koola had fallen into the same trap.
After merging with the Big Gete Star, his strength was unstoppable, but again his arrogance cost him. If he had simply killed Goku and Vegeta rather than try to drink them dry, he would still be alive. Hell, even if he had put them somewhere else away from the remainder of his brain, he could have protected himself.
So was that it? Was Koola no longer the strongest being in the galaxy? Had two filthy saiyans surpassed the might of his race and left him in the dust? Even being artificially empowered hadn't been enough.
No, the survival of the fittest did not necessitate strength. In both of his defeats, a calmer head may have helped him prevail, although his first death was due to a lack of strength. Perhaps there was a trade-off? As much as he was grateful for his cybernetic upgrade, nothing felt better than to have a body of flesh and blood; maybe a small insertion of technology would increase his strength without losing the aspects that made him different to an unfeeling, unintuitive machine.
Either way, that train of thought appeared useless. Stuck in a blinding white Hell, how would he claw his way back to the living? Was that even possible?
No, he wasn't giving up. Channelling his ki, a purple aura engulfed his body. His three toed feet left the ground as his body levitated. Koola's red eyes scoured the horizon, hoping to find anything else in this wasteland. Another damned soul could possibly be wandering around; if the changeling was stuck here, walking is about all he could do to pass eternity.
On the faint dividing line between sky and ground, Koola thought he could make something out in the distance. Indiscernible from his vantage point, he sped through the air for a closer look.
I hope this isn't my damn brother in here too. Being stuck with him for all eternity really would be Hell.
Breath?
Koola stared at his hands. Purple flesh covered his fingers and palms. Frowning, he flexed them, ensuring that he was indeed witnessing his own appendages operating at his thoughts. Where was the metallic steel of his artificial form?
"But ... I was a machine ... wasn't I?" the changeling prince said to the expanse.
Dredging up memories from the floor of his mind, Koola thought back. Much of his recent past was a haze. His long term recollection was fine though; scenes of battling the saiyan that killed Frieza replayed vividly in his mind, as did his surprising defeat and the inferno of the sun that almost claimed his life. For a time after the flesh sloughed from his cooked, tenderised bones, he only saw black, but once the Big Gete Star merged with him, he remembered every second of every moment thanks to the computerisation of his memories.
As the sole consciousness of a huge, robotic planetoid, Koola drifted through space, searching for resources to consume in order to continue fuelling himself and expanding the Big Gete Star. Several years went by where he acted as a devourer of worlds, sucking each planet dry of any and all valuable assets, including life. Eventually he came upon the namekian home only to be interrupted by Goku, Vegeta and the rest of their pathetic troupe. Spawning robotic versions of his base form and branding them Metal Koolas, he sent them to battle. The two dirty saiyans managed to destroy the first robot, but another thousand soon put them down.
Siphoning energy from their Super Saiyan bodies, Koola failed to realise the depth of the reserves and let his guard down. Funnelling him with more power than he could process, Koola soon overloaded, which gave the monkeys the opportunity to finally end the changeling prince.
But that barely begun to explain where he was now and why he had his old meat body back. Another memory swirled just out of his perception, as if it bookended his life and the beginning of this new existence.
But where could he be that would grant him his body back?
He sighed. "Hell. I'm in Hell, aren't I?"
He strolled over to a fountain, the only object in the entire bleary landscape. Built of skulls, crimson blood spurted from its apex and settled into the basin.
"Not exactly what I would call suitable," Koola said out loud, his eyes moving about as if someone would appear and greet him. "I was a prince to a genocidal empire. I erased entire cultures and civilisations from the face of the galaxy. And this is my punishment? A white void with a blood fountain? I think someone made a mistake somewhere."
Although maybe his punishment was to waste away in this mind numbing realm. Koola hated to be idle. An eternity of this could be worse than any torture inflicted on his flesh. Left with nothing but his thoughts.
Koola scowled, thinking about how he ended up here. To lose to a dirty monkey, and twice! Saiyans were twice as stupid as they were strong, and none of their kind had ever posed a threat to them. Even King Vegeta fell to Frieza's power, as did the majority of their flea bitten race when his younger brother destroyed their planet. And yet two remnants of that mercenary species not only held their ground but ultimately killed Koola and his family.
His first death to Goku was based on an underestimation. He felt foolish admitting it to himself, since he branded Frieza a bull-headed child for declaring his superiority to the saiyan despite mounting evidence to the contrary, but Koola had fallen into the same trap.
After merging with the Big Gete Star, his strength was unstoppable, but again his arrogance cost him. If he had simply killed Goku and Vegeta rather than try to drink them dry, he would still be alive. Hell, even if he had put them somewhere else away from the remainder of his brain, he could have protected himself.
So was that it? Was Koola no longer the strongest being in the galaxy? Had two filthy saiyans surpassed the might of his race and left him in the dust? Even being artificially empowered hadn't been enough.
No, the survival of the fittest did not necessitate strength. In both of his defeats, a calmer head may have helped him prevail, although his first death was due to a lack of strength. Perhaps there was a trade-off? As much as he was grateful for his cybernetic upgrade, nothing felt better than to have a body of flesh and blood; maybe a small insertion of technology would increase his strength without losing the aspects that made him different to an unfeeling, unintuitive machine.
Either way, that train of thought appeared useless. Stuck in a blinding white Hell, how would he claw his way back to the living? Was that even possible?
No, he wasn't giving up. Channelling his ki, a purple aura engulfed his body. His three toed feet left the ground as his body levitated. Koola's red eyes scoured the horizon, hoping to find anything else in this wasteland. Another damned soul could possibly be wandering around; if the changeling was stuck here, walking is about all he could do to pass eternity.
On the faint dividing line between sky and ground, Koola thought he could make something out in the distance. Indiscernible from his vantage point, he sped through the air for a closer look.
I hope this isn't my damn brother in here too. Being stuck with him for all eternity really would be Hell.