Journey to Nowhere

[Illidan Stormrage]

The men looked at each other. The spearman shrugged. "Does it matter? Everyone is something weird in this place."

Orion frowned. "You haven't heard of a saiyan before?" That didn't bode well. He had hoped that there would be other saiyans in this world, and if they were here, they would have certainly earned a reputation. "Then I guess all of this is going to be new to you."

Orion threw out an open hand and a ki ball materialised from his palm. It flew straight into the spearman, knocking him to the ground in a fast vanishing puff of smoke.

"It's a Prime!" the archer shouted, stringing his bow. "Take him out!"

The arrow loosed and bore through the air. Orion rose a forearm and it smashed into his metal guard, though the hit reverberated through his bones with greater force than it should've. Strange.

The spearman had bounded back to his feet, a blackened smudge on his naked chest. The machete wielder sprinted towards Orion, arms straight and dragging behind him.

Orion hadn't put much power into his ki blast, true, but he expected more than a superficial scorch mark on the impact point. Normal, non-ki trained individuals' flesh tended to be soft and spongy, and not resilient at all to explosive ki attacks. The spearman should've at least been bleeding, if not had his ribcage exposed slightly; a bit of red and white jutting from his skin.

Was ... he weaker in the Omniverse?

Time to test out his theory. Another ki ball congealed in his open hand, and he took aim at the charging lean man. He poured his energy into the fluctuating orb, giving it time to strengthen, and giving the machete wielder the extra strides needed to build his confidence. It was funny though; the closer an untrained fighter grew to their target, the more they lowered their guard. Orion couldn't count the number of enemies he'd slain simply because their anger or bloodlust overpowered their common sense.

Two more steps and a machete would be buried in his head. Orion fired.

A beam of bluish white energy soared from his hand, the head of the attack crashing into the lean man's torso and lifting him from his feet. The machetes shone with reflected light as the lean man collided with a nearby tree. A bright explosion and a scream resounded from the tree's base. When the smoke cleared, the lean man lay face down, a red puddle expanding from beneath him.

Hmm. Better, but Orion still expected to have vaporised the man. What had happened to him?

His thoughts were cut short by a powerful force shoving him in the shoulder and a searing pain exploding in the same point. An arrow speared into his flesh, blood weeping down his arm. The arrow penetrated his skin? A measly, flimsy arrow?

He was a saiyan! His skin was bulletproof. How did an arrow manage to burrow into him?

Orion wrapped his fingers around the shaft and tore the arrow free of his skin. The arrowhead hadn't dug in far, which showed that his body still retained some of his natural resilience, but that was small comfort to the saiyan warrior. He clenched his hand and snapped the arrow in two.

His aura raged with new life. "This fight is over."

The spearman closed in on Orion, but he ignored him. He burst forward, feet rising over the ground, eye locked onto the archer. He took some small measure of delight in the look of shock on his face, though Orion didn't let it show. Apparently levitation wasn't a common trick either.

The archer hurriedly fumbled for a new arrow from his quiver, but his fingers couldn't snatch one, instead milling them around. This was too easy.

Orion cocked back a fist and threw it forward, slamming his knuckles into the archer's face. His target lifted off his feet and landed onto a tent, imploding it all around on him. Orion gave the collapsed tent a quick eye, but there was no movement.

The saiyan warrior spun to face his last opponent.

"You're some kind of freak ..." the spearman said in hushed tones.

Orion narrowed his eye. "The inferior fighter always claims his better's skill and power is reliant on him being a 'freak.' Perhaps you should submit."

The spearman stood gritting his teeth, ostensibly torn between pride and his survival instinct.

Orion decided to choose for him. He ran at him, roaring, clenching his fists. The spearman bent his knees and thrust the spear forward at Orion, but the saiyan adeptly stepped to the side, feeling the wind rustle his robe. Tensing his bicep, Orion flooded his fury into his strike, knocking teeth loose and feeling the spearman's nose crack and collapse.

The last of the hunters hit the dirt and didn't get up. Orion grabbed his hair and yanked his head up, checking to see if he still breathed. The saiyan thought he could hear the rasped wheezing through the new gap in the huntsman's teeth, but Orion couldn't tell if it was the blood pumping through his ears.

It didn't matter. Orion dropped the head and strode over to the cooking roast. He probed it with a finger; firm, likely cooked. Hell, even if it was still raw he would eat it. Saiyans had hearty stomachs.

Orion stabbed fingers into the meat and tore the item off the spit, taking a huge bite. Juice and grease dribbled down his chin. The smoky flavour swam on his tongue, and he ripped another greedy chunk off with his teeth. His stomach instantly welcomed the hot savoury meal as he walked back onto the trail, leaving the scene of violence behind him without a second thought.

Chewing on the last bite, Orion threw away the skewer of the roast and found himself on the edge of a shoddy little village. Hope sprung anew. Perhaps someone here knew something about Omni's location. Then again, there was a chance that he would run into another gaggle of unwashed miscreants and a fight would break out again.

Either event would make Orion happy.