The Golden Star

[Illidan Stormrage]

Gods, it felt good.

Oozaru Orion opened his maw and bellowed into the empty skies. His mammoth leg lifted up and slammed down on an approaching truck, obliterating it into a twisted, dented wreck. A cluster of rusted motorbikes swerved away, following a parade of vehicles diverting away from Orion and searching for another entrance into the town. Orion cocked a fist and plowed it into the sandy dunes, feeling the frames of the well worn bikes crumple and bend to his immense knuckles. He turned, opened his mouth, and a sizzling beam of ki exploded forth, cutting a burning line of destruction through the approaching vehicles. Standing, he swiveled on one foot and kicked out, scooping up a giant monkey sized handful of targets along the flat of his boot and flung them into the distance.

His thoughts barely broke the surface of his raging instincts. They rumbled quietly and indistinctly, satisfied with the churning waters they submersed into. Being an elite saiyan, Orion had been trained in the art of controlling and suppressing the baser impulses that arose in the Oozaru form, but he had no desire to. The unbridled rage and chaos was simply too cathartic.

The procession of targets made for a plentiful shooting range. Oozaru Orion launched another ki beam from his terrifying jaws. A dome of fire and energy bloomed from the impact, and several charred chassis lay buried in various depths in the sand. The cavalcade of rag tag vehicles had learned swiftly that Orion was to be avoided, and the lines streaming towards the town had changed, looping away from the edge of town that Orion viciously guarded. They weren't out of range of his searing breath though, as another cluster of drivers fatally discovered.

Orion bounded out into the dunes and hurled himself onto the correcting convoy. His boots pounded heavily on the sand, crushing the vehicles he landed on and sending a wave of sand in all directions, like a drop of water falling onto the surface of a still lake. Cars and bikes veered around his massive feet. He snatched two random cars with impressive, sturdy bull bars and peered into the windows. The drivers, stunned at the burning red eyes glaring at them, reached for guns an arm's length from them and opened fire. The tiny pellets stung Orion's muzzle and he roared in angry response, the car windows shattering. With an almighty yell, he drove the fronts of the vehicles together, testing the resilience of their eye catching bull bars. Alas, they crumpled and fused together like a giant metal accordion. Blood and oil leaked onto his fingers.

Orion dropped the mangled wrecks and took another pot shot at the tail of the trailing convoy. As sparse as it was, another couple of cars exploded under the weight of his mouth fired ki blast. The remainder vanished over a dune, heading towards the other side of the town.

Fatigue coursed through his body out of nowhere. Orion grunted. The blood lust frenzy that absorbed his mind absolutely had waned. His Oozaru instincts settled and he found himself back in control. He snorted through his flared nostrils and rumbled back towards the town. Maybe he could find another bar that hadn't been demolished by his fiery temper.

Reaching into the sky, Orion pinched the false moon that hung over the town like an oversized light bulb and snuffed it out. Without the constant refreshment of blutz waves, the changes to his body quickly unravelled. Fur receded back into his body as he shrunk at a fantastic speed. His snout melted away, reforming his regular face. The red left his natural eye and in moments, any sign of an Oozaru in the Endless Dunes was removed.

Orion hurried over to his robe, covered in dirt and boot prints. He groaned and snatched it from the ground, flapping it to release the muck that had accumulated on it, and slipped it back on. Once the gold chain was snapped into place, he looked around and spotted an eyepatch. Likely not the one he threw off in the bar's bathroom, but an eyepatch nontheless. He snapped it over his head, covering his prosthetic eye.

The town was in chaos. Windows of the buildings were smashed, crude barricades constructed of all sorts of random items covered the roads, some in better shape than others, and people ran about screaming. A few bodies were scattered around, resting eternally in a red sheen. What had happened here?

Of course. That convoy that rode for the town weren't just regular people; they were outlaws. The ones that managed to skirt around Orion as an Oozaru slipped in and started a raid. These people weren't ready to defend themselves against these bandits, and while Orion had managed to soften the blow of their invasion, he had failed to take the sting out of it. Strangely, the saiyan warrior felt an invigorated desire to help defend the town. Part of him wondered if it was because of the guilt he felt over destroying the last pub he was in, but the more likely answer was that his saiyan thirst for combat hadn't been sated. It was one thing stomping around as an invincible Oozaru, destroying anything resembling a threat with little effort, but getting his hands dirty and actually working for his satisfaction? Well, it was beyond compare.

Orion looked around, searching for the first outlaw he could pound into red sludge. His ears pricked up as a loud rev snuck on him from behind. He jumped to the side just in time as a horn blared and a shoebox shaped truck came to a sliding stop. Orion rolled on the ground and alighted on his feet, turning back to face the oddly designed vehicle. That thing must have terrible wind resistance.

"Hey!" Orion shouted at the driver, pounding a fist into the other hand. "Get outside. I want to talk."