Non-Canon Omake: Maximum
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
Omake time.
This scene is written from the point of view of Lord Vegeta during pre-Sealing events. Contains child abuse. Contains child abuse from the perspective of the abuser. The second person perspective. Contains self-justifying internal monologue of child abuser. Contains villain viewpoint character, as the previous three sentences should make clear.
If you foresee being seriously troubled by the scene described above, DO NOT READ this omake.
The author does NOT endorse the viewpoint of Vegeta Vegeta on literally anything ever, especially not anything related to children in any capacity. Character's attributed opinions are strictly his own and I hope he rots and burns in HFIL for them. On which note...
If you foresee being seriously troubled by the scene described above, DO NOT READ this omake.
The author does NOT endorse the viewpoint of Vegeta Vegeta on literally anything ever, especially not anything related to children in any capacity. Character's attributed opinions are strictly his own and I hope he rots and burns in HFIL for them. On which note...
Somewhere, in a very improbable, one-in-quadrillions parallel universe...
Jaffur got one too!
Maximum
Recommended Listening
"Kakara, you need to understand-"
"No, YOU understand! This is stupid! It's stupid, and I hate it!"
Berra has coddled his precious little shrinking violet for far too long. Now the bastard's sowing what he reaped. Does the cowardly girl not want to be a super-saiyan? People have died trying to- you clamp down on the memory.
A mocking, ironic inner voice tells you that maybe you shouldn't talk. After all, you have your own brat problems. Jaffur is screaming at you.
"I am not a weapon! You don't get to point me at her and tell me to cut loose!"
Idiot child. You were so proud of him when he was born, with a power level in the thousands practically before he left the delivery room. But since then? Nothing but lip and insolence and constant, constant failure to grasp the facts of life.
Your power level spirals up to something far beyond what the boy can achieve. Time seems to stand still, except only for Berra's gathering frown; he's the only one present who can match you. You walk up to the frozen Jaffur, then allow yourself to slow down, cutting him off in mid-rant.
"Don't you tell me what I do and don't get to do. I am your father, and you will respect that." Meanwhile Berra is still trying to convince Kakara. Idiot.
Again, though, you have your own problems. Jaffur closes on you. "I'll respect you as my father when you earn it!"
Your vision turns red.
SMACK.
Why does he never learn?
Everyone shuts up. Jaffur stumbles back a half-step and freezes, head snapped to the side by the blow. You lower your hand, slowly, and try, one more time, to explain to your son how the world works. You understood it when you were ten, if not younger.
"I don't need to earn anything from you, brat. I helped to bring you into this world, and I can take you out of it."
Jaffur is still and quiet. Maybe he's listening for a change. That would be good.
You bend down to his face. Because you know what he said last night, and he must understand how things work now that he's transformed for the first time.
"As your father I am entitled to your respect and obedience, and I will have it from you. Do you really think I didn't hear you last night? 'The Clan needs a new Lord?' Really, is that so? And how will you make that happen, Jaffur?"
"Don't call me that."
"Do you plan on finding some likely girl to pump out your brats as soon as you can? I'm sure you can find a whore to help with that easily enough."
"Don't call me that."
"Or did you plan on killing me? Forget whether or not you can -- let's be honest, you never would. You're nothing without me there."
"Don't call me that."
What is wrong with him? You've got to snap him out of it, get him to face the truth of what it is, to be a transformed Scion helping his lord and father- you clamp down on the memory.
"Don't call you what? Your name? That's just who you are, and nothing will ever change that. You are my son -- my blood, my flesh, my property, mine -- and that will never change."
Recommended Listening
Jaffur's expression stills, and he looks you in the face. "Fuck this."
WHAM.
A spike of shocked pain slams into your gut. Jaffur transforms almost instantly, and at a hundred and sixty million he's strong enough to hurt you with that sucker punch. You double over, momentarily dazed as your own son bounds up and kicks you across the Hall.
If you weren't you, you might be proud.
Your vision turns red, then blue and gold. That IDIOT CHILD!
"BOY!"
Once again you have seven times the boy's strength.
"YOU STRIKE AT ME? YOU JUST ACHIEVED YOUR TRANSFORMATION YESTERDAY, AND YOU THINK YOURSELF A MATCH FOR ME?!"
You rush forward, unleashing your strength against him, showing him what true power really is. He trains, you'll give him that. He's got talent, you'll give him that. But none of that matters in the face of the true mastery of the titanic well of a super-saiyan's power, as you proved at the age of ten- you clamp down on the memory.
Berra transforms, but stays out of it, protecting Kala and the girl from the thunder of your wrath. Fair enough. Well enough. And after a little while, you've done enough. Well, almost enough. One final lesson.
Jaffur is on the floor, far from the bystanders. You slow back into what mere mortals would call visibility, above Berra and Kala and the girl, arms flung wide. Your vision is red.
"YOU INSOLENT BRAT! I WILL SHOW YOU YOUR PLACE! ENJOY THE REST OF THE MONTH, SON, BECAUSE YOU'RE SPENDING IT CRIPPLED!"
Berra looks up and shouts. "Vegeta, no!"
But it's too late for that. It's six years too late for that. The divide between you and the man you once thought of as a friend, like an idiot, can never be repaired.
"FINAL FLASH!"
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-/
BANG.
When the light clears, the dust remains.
When the dust clears, the crater remains.
The boy is standing in the crater. But he doesn't look like a boy anymore. Somehow, something has given him the height and bulk of a man grown, muscled as no eight year old child should be. As not even an eight year old super saiyan should be.
The golden fire of his transformation, the blue shimmering of that... thing he does with his ki... they've merged, now, with something else.
His eyes are mad and wild, or rather his face is. You cannot read expression in his eyes directly. Because his eyes are pits of white flame, so bright that it hurts to look at them, so bright you can't imagine how he can even see.
Your son's hair is still mostly golden, but now tinged with green.
Incongruously, fragments from the ancient Song of Gohan and the Chant of Goku drift through your mind, as things fall into place. You realize truly, what it is that you have sired. And tormented. And goaded into a rage beyond even saiyan comprehension. Beyond even your comprehension.
You know that the last time this happened, the father died.
And he'd given less provocation than you.
Your Final Flash rolled off Jaffur's abruptly expanded body, like wind splashing off of steel. It has left him not only uninjured, but unmarked, untouched by a blast that even Berra, even Father, would have had to sit up and take notice of. For Jaffur is the truth of the legend now, and he is stronger than you. By one unit of power, or one billion, it matters not. He is stronger than you.
Jaffur is beyond speech, beyond thought. He roars.
"FATHER!"
He stands, feet spread wide on the ground, and cups his hands at you. Now moving faster than you can fully react to defend yourself. For he is the legend, and he is stronger than you.
Silver and blue and green and gold merge into rainbow balefire, altering almost beyond recognition an attack you've seen your son use before.
The Apocalypse Beam.
You thought Jaffur's choice of words pretentious, a childish fancy, even if the boy had a right to name his own attacks, which you supposed he did.
That lance of silver fire strikes, has always struck, with twice the power level of the user. And Jaffur is mightier, now, than even a super-saiyan at full strength.
Even if, in this moment, you had unlocked the forbidden transformation, attained the second state, it wouldn't be enough to stop this, this world-ending blowtorch, thick as a man's thigh, from carving through your chest, burning through your shoulder and sending your right arm falling to the ground. Slowly, so slowly, your body begins to fall after it, to land at your rival Berra's feet.
And now the Apocalypse Beam lives up to the full horror of its name.
Sorcerers, your wife among them, were already frantically conjuring seals, trying to reinforce the Hall wards, as soon as they saw the green fire erupt around Jaffur's power-swollen body. But he is the legend, and he is stronger than them too.
The beam, fired from the ground and passing through you, blows out through the Hall's roof, rupturing its enchantments as a spear might burst a balloon. A gout of green-tarnished silver screams skyward, on a direct line to interstellar space and the edge of the galaxy.
The Hall is fallen. And you are dying.
Jaffur screams again.
"FAATHHER!"
As your life ebbs, you see Berra, the red fire of the Kaio-Ken wrapping around him, as he prepares to risk his life doing what you and your parents had planned for, the last-ditch effort to suppress an awakening power that will spell the doom of Garenhuld. None of you knew to expect this, but generations of royals have resolved along these lines. To bring down any such giant, though they die in the doing, or die trying.
You see Kyuuri, your aide, looking on in sick horror. Slowly, so slowly, raising fingers to brow. To fetch your father? Your father.
Father... Father...
Soon you stand, restored, before a great desk. You answer to the great crimson ogre in his violet suit for your deeds. You are sentenced accordingly.
Nor will you be the only child of Garenhuld to do so, this day.
"Kakara, you need to understand-"
"No, YOU understand! This is stupid! It's stupid, and I hate it!"
Berra has coddled his precious little shrinking violet for far too long. Now the bastard's sowing what he reaped. Does the cowardly girl not want to be a super-saiyan? People have died trying to- you clamp down on the memory.
A mocking, ironic inner voice tells you that maybe you shouldn't talk. After all, you have your own brat problems. Jaffur is screaming at you.
"I am not a weapon! You don't get to point me at her and tell me to cut loose!"
Idiot child. You were so proud of him when he was born, with a power level in the thousands practically before he left the delivery room. But since then? Nothing but lip and insolence and constant, constant failure to grasp the facts of life.
Your power level spirals up to something far beyond what the boy can achieve. Time seems to stand still, except only for Berra's gathering frown; he's the only one present who can match you. You walk up to the frozen Jaffur, then allow yourself to slow down, cutting him off in mid-rant.
"Don't you tell me what I do and don't get to do. I am your father, and you will respect that." Meanwhile Berra is still trying to convince Kakara. Idiot.
Again, though, you have your own problems. Jaffur closes on you. "I'll respect you as my father when you earn it!"
Your vision turns red.
SMACK.
Why does he never learn?
Everyone shuts up. Jaffur stumbles back a half-step and freezes, head snapped to the side by the blow. You lower your hand, slowly, and try, one more time, to explain to your son how the world works. You understood it when you were ten, if not younger.
"I don't need to earn anything from you, brat. I helped to bring you into this world, and I can take you out of it."
Jaffur is still and quiet. Maybe he's listening for a change. That would be good.
You bend down to his face. Because you know what he said last night, and he must understand how things work now that he's transformed for the first time.
"As your father I am entitled to your respect and obedience, and I will have it from you. Do you really think I didn't hear you last night? 'The Clan needs a new Lord?' Really, is that so? And how will you make that happen, Jaffur?"
"Don't call me that."
"Do you plan on finding some likely girl to pump out your brats as soon as you can? I'm sure you can find a whore to help with that easily enough."
"Don't call me that."
"Or did you plan on killing me? Forget whether or not you can -- let's be honest, you never would. You're nothing without me there."
"Don't call me that."
What is wrong with him? You've got to snap him out of it, get him to face the truth of what it is, to be a transformed Scion helping his lord and father- you clamp down on the memory.
"Don't call you what? Your name? That's just who you are, and nothing will ever change that. You are my son -- my blood, my flesh, my property, mine -- and that will never change."
Recommended Listening
Jaffur's expression stills, and he looks you in the face. "Fuck this."
WHAM.
A spike of shocked pain slams into your gut. Jaffur transforms almost instantly, and at a hundred and sixty million he's strong enough to hurt you with that sucker punch. You double over, momentarily dazed as your own son bounds up and kicks you across the Hall.
If you weren't you, you might be proud.
Your vision turns red, then blue and gold. That IDIOT CHILD!
"BOY!"
Once again you have seven times the boy's strength.
"YOU STRIKE AT ME? YOU JUST ACHIEVED YOUR TRANSFORMATION YESTERDAY, AND YOU THINK YOURSELF A MATCH FOR ME?!"
You rush forward, unleashing your strength against him, showing him what true power really is. He trains, you'll give him that. He's got talent, you'll give him that. But none of that matters in the face of the true mastery of the titanic well of a super-saiyan's power, as you proved at the age of ten- you clamp down on the memory.
Berra transforms, but stays out of it, protecting Kala and the girl from the thunder of your wrath. Fair enough. Well enough. And after a little while, you've done enough. Well, almost enough. One final lesson.
Jaffur is on the floor, far from the bystanders. You slow back into what mere mortals would call visibility, above Berra and Kala and the girl, arms flung wide. Your vision is red.
"YOU INSOLENT BRAT! I WILL SHOW YOU YOUR PLACE! ENJOY THE REST OF THE MONTH, SON, BECAUSE YOU'RE SPENDING IT CRIPPLED!"
Berra looks up and shouts. "Vegeta, no!"
But it's too late for that. It's six years too late for that. The divide between you and the man you once thought of as a friend, like an idiot, can never be repaired.
"FINAL FLASH!"
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-/
BANG.
When the light clears, the dust remains.
When the dust clears, the crater remains.
The boy is standing in the crater. But he doesn't look like a boy anymore. Somehow, something has given him the height and bulk of a man grown, muscled as no eight year old child should be. As not even an eight year old super saiyan should be.
The golden fire of his transformation, the blue shimmering of that... thing he does with his ki... they've merged, now, with something else.
His eyes are mad and wild, or rather his face is. You cannot read expression in his eyes directly. Because his eyes are pits of white flame, so bright that it hurts to look at them, so bright you can't imagine how he can even see.
Your son's hair is still mostly golden, but now tinged with green.
Incongruously, fragments from the ancient Song of Gohan and the Chant of Goku drift through your mind, as things fall into place. You realize truly, what it is that you have sired. And tormented. And goaded into a rage beyond even saiyan comprehension. Beyond even your comprehension.
You know that the last time this happened, the father died.
And he'd given less provocation than you.
Your Final Flash rolled off Jaffur's abruptly expanded body, like wind splashing off of steel. It has left him not only uninjured, but unmarked, untouched by a blast that even Berra, even Father, would have had to sit up and take notice of. For Jaffur is the truth of the legend now, and he is stronger than you. By one unit of power, or one billion, it matters not. He is stronger than you.
Jaffur is beyond speech, beyond thought. He roars.
"FATHER!"
He stands, feet spread wide on the ground, and cups his hands at you. Now moving faster than you can fully react to defend yourself. For he is the legend, and he is stronger than you.
Silver and blue and green and gold merge into rainbow balefire, altering almost beyond recognition an attack you've seen your son use before.
The Apocalypse Beam.
You thought Jaffur's choice of words pretentious, a childish fancy, even if the boy had a right to name his own attacks, which you supposed he did.
That lance of silver fire strikes, has always struck, with twice the power level of the user. And Jaffur is mightier, now, than even a super-saiyan at full strength.
Even if, in this moment, you had unlocked the forbidden transformation, attained the second state, it wouldn't be enough to stop this, this world-ending blowtorch, thick as a man's thigh, from carving through your chest, burning through your shoulder and sending your right arm falling to the ground. Slowly, so slowly, your body begins to fall after it, to land at your rival Berra's feet.
And now the Apocalypse Beam lives up to the full horror of its name.
Sorcerers, your wife among them, were already frantically conjuring seals, trying to reinforce the Hall wards, as soon as they saw the green fire erupt around Jaffur's power-swollen body. But he is the legend, and he is stronger than them too.
The beam, fired from the ground and passing through you, blows out through the Hall's roof, rupturing its enchantments as a spear might burst a balloon. A gout of green-tarnished silver screams skyward, on a direct line to interstellar space and the edge of the galaxy.
The Hall is fallen. And you are dying.
Jaffur screams again.
"FAATHHER!"
As your life ebbs, you see Berra, the red fire of the Kaio-Ken wrapping around him, as he prepares to risk his life doing what you and your parents had planned for, the last-ditch effort to suppress an awakening power that will spell the doom of Garenhuld. None of you knew to expect this, but generations of royals have resolved along these lines. To bring down any such giant, though they die in the doing, or die trying.
You see Kyuuri, your aide, looking on in sick horror. Slowly, so slowly, raising fingers to brow. To fetch your father? Your father.
Father... Father...
Soon you stand, restored, before a great desk. You answer to the great crimson ogre in his violet suit for your deeds. You are sentenced accordingly.
Nor will you be the only child of Garenhuld to do so, this day.
I honestly could not have written this before the latest update which is a pity because it might have actually helped...
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