Chapter 19

Perfect Resolve, Perfect Judgement

Lights, debris, and dust exhaled across the area's floor in wheezes, blowing its hardy materials on an already destroyed landscape. There was no Gotham left to speak of; only the monsters that destroyed it remain. Each one of them locked in the dirtiest trenches of combat, their minds tranced on the concerted power of their rage and the delusion of a precipus. Their eyes would flash a blood-burning red, and in an instant, they, and everything around them would violently disappear. They left nothing but to give a dead city further anguish in the heat of their aftermath. They bounced around the city to-and-fro, with each point of collision cracking the ground apart in a vast crater and swallowing long-forgotten districts whole.

For Cell's part, he did everything he could imagine. The knowledge of the hundreds of thousands of souls within him gave him the broader breadth in tactical and technical prowess. He dodged the blows of Darkseid with a heave and reflected android 13's disintegrating energy rays back with a brute force of the fist. Sweat glazed his forehead. He noticed that it was when they worked together that they posed a grave threat indeed. The android newcomer's eyes ran the same red as Darkseid's now. Most times, they worked like clockwork, giving the other just enough space and time for the other to deliver a most critical blow when Cell's attention was awry.

Right as Cell traded blows with Darkseid in the air, Android 13 chartered himself a distance away and raised his hands from side to side.

"S.S. Deadly Bomber!" The android bellowed out from his mechanical voice-box.

He released a red ball of inner-spiralling energy from his hands, one with a transparent outer-shell and a nucleus-like center that threatened to separate the atoms of its unfortunate victim. There was a jarring, a primal-ness in Cell's eyes; he spared no thoughts as he roared and bull-rushed towards the sphere. In a split second, a white transparent figure jostled out of Cell's being and speedily closed the gap between it and the android. It squeezed the red ball of terror with its hand before it ever moved so much as a foot. The ignition that ensued cast its full force all on the super android, engulfing him and the ghost in thick balls of fire and cloud.

As he watched, an agony surged round Cell's back, followed by a spurtle of purple blood. Darkseid managed to sink most of his fist where Cell's spine should be, as his insectoid wings are usually spread apart in the heat of battle. The bio-android's eyes blurred and his teeth mashed together like a grinder. With an animalistic grunt, he jerked the fist out and threw the rest of the body into the sea of mist that cast over the ground.

"Special Beam Cannon!" His cry followed a blinding beam of purple and yellow that spiralled into the shrouds below.

Much to the bio-android's surprise, he felt upon his back to find that the hole remained. In fact, most of the damage he sustained throughout persisted, stretched across the various parts of his body. A wing chipped, his black plating deeply slashed, and his face still running hot with the blood of everyone. He closed his eyes, eased his stance, and felt the vibrations of his rattling breath. The Earth grew ever so stiller. Slowly, but surely, the broken surface of his body weaved itself back into form, filling the gaps of cut tissue and smoothening the rough bruises.

Another ray of red energy cut through the ground-level fog and shot right through the hole in his chest. In retaliation, he levelled the ground in a sea of concentrated fury. Another attack came from his left, this time a mighty grapple that sent them flying into the dark depths below. A breath later and he was strung out in a crater and a broken back.

Every step forward from the steep circle was a battle on its own. His knees wobbled under the pressure, though not for too long until a red ball of light engulfed his entire body. The blast ripped out shards of his very being, but the barrier surrounding him was enough to ward the storm from doing further harm. So concentrated was the blast that it reduced even the dust to atoms, leaving only the soot that made their ground. He was not even sure which part of the city it was anymore.

Cell dropped the barrier and waddled in the mist, his eyes blinded by the dust that constantly swept and pecked his eyes. Each step he took, he took it with the absolute assurance that he knew where he moved; Every movement was accounted for, and every action just little progressions to the end. His pace, though a dazed and sickly gallop, was a true one.

"You must think…" Cell's words were thunderous, but half resolute. His left leg had given out on him, so he trudged about the mist with a limp. "That I am failing, That I am too weak!"

Every cell in his body began to ignite in a frenzy. His blood boiled. His eyes growled. His leg no longer wobbled, the hole no longer ached, and his wounds felt like little more than papercuts. The heat forced itself from his body and fired around him in a golden aura, one that expanded and shined so bright that the low-hanging sea of dust dispersed out of the city. It shook the soot, cracked the ground floor in excess of directions, and forced the world into submission.

"I AM CELL! I AM INVINCIBLE! I AMPERFECT!"

The world, even to as far as the watchtower, to the moon, and to the distant stars, trembled in a way it never before. Never has there been a force of this nature. Even the Martians on Mars, privy to only so much of the terrifying events that have transpired on Earth and the nearby cosmos- too have felt their hearts sink, their mouths quiver and murmured of prayers, and their eyes widen as they looked up to sky to try to gain some understanding.

Cell looked to his hands. He remembered all those months ago when his hands changed to its pale white color- when he became perfect. There was something different about it, this time around.

"But have I not proven myself? Maxima, Mongul, Peraxxus, the Lanterns… they all served a purpose. They attested my glory. I challenged the universe, and even it caved to my will. And yet, here I am, stuck in the muck of yet another battle."

Cell balled his hands and firmed his feet onto the ground.

"When will you people understand what I am?"

There was nothing but the darkness of night and the light of his defiance. He watched. A body zipped into his vision- it was the stupid android trying to dive in for a surprise attack, his gloved hand cranked back. Cell moved in and burrowed a sharp blow into its chest, but another figure slammed its weight against his side and forced him a good distance. He recouped and turned back to their direction, but another distant figure fired down on his leg, severing it entirely.

With haste, he formed a new leg that resembled a mouldy monstrosity. It was horribly inefficient, but at least he was bipedal again. The figures came rushing back to him, this time quartering his ground. They launched waves upon waves of unrelenting assault. He blocked every blow, but the flurries only quickened. He tried to focus on Darkseid, studying his movements and retaliating accordingly. It became almost child's play, but then the second one noticed and cowardly swooned in to dish out a foray. Without a reprieve, his knees buckled again, his aura fluttering into dimness.

"COWARDS!"

The bio-android roared, blowing the two assailants away with an outburst of energy. He launched himself back into the sky and gasped for breath harder than he's ever done.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. The waves of blows never felt like they stopped, like his body is still reeling from it. His muscles twitched and ached longer than they were designed for. Not only are the wounds at a standstill, but even bodily sensations, which usually dull via regeneration, hurt like they never have before. Try as he might to manually heal it himself, he hardly had any concentration left to do so.

Cell's eyes darted in every direction. There was no time to breathe, no time to think; only the anguish of his pain remained and a most foreign feeling of a tight chest and widened eyes. It was then when the bio-android saw them. They were but several dots in the edge of his blurred periphery, but he recognized them, nonetheless. It was the Justice League.

John Stewart and the Flash looked back at the green monstrosity from below. They managed to rouse again the rest of the defence party that arrived in response to the android threat in Gotham. With the two were Hawkman and Hawkgirl, Martian Manhunter, and Wonder Girl. Aquaman was far too injured to be of any use, so Flash dumped him into the nearest ocean so that the aquatic life can nurse him to health. He wasn't in much better shape either; all of them still adorned their prior wounds. For now, the best they could do is lie in a wait, study, and move cautiously.

Cell's face twitched. They made him sick. Every fiber of their existence, every turn they made to talk to one another, every look, every stare, made his blood boil. They huddled around each other like pigs. Nothing was more affronting as much as the fact they believed themselves to be safe. They divulged with themselves in his presence. They did not move or let their faces drop in fear. No! They studied him as if he were some museum piece! Fools! What is he but a god to them after their last encounter?

Unless, of course… they are mocking him. To watch him like this is like entertainment to them. Even worse! They are vultures- silently stalking their prey when it distinguishes a quick meal! They confide, they dare dream, that their almighty is not so invincible as before! Well…

John Stewart and the party watched as Cell's eyes closed into slits, the veins etched in them contorting into a stingy blood-red. He amassed a giant energy ball, one that hovered above his head, and unleashed it on the heroes.

"John!" Martian Manhunter shielded his eyes as the light of the blast became increasingly more blinding. "Can you block it?"

The lantern slacked opened his jaw and closed his eyes. The light turned them into little more than figures with hardly an outline.

The blast propelled into the stratosphere as quickly as it came. It soared into the depths of outer space before it ignited into a brilliant ball of flame and gas, a small light show for the denizens of Earth.

The hand of Android 13 sizzled with smoke and twitched in his defiance.

"How did you…" Cell's widened eyes narrowed on the character in the distance. "How dare you!"

"I told ya, my beef is with the JL's strongest. These guys though, I'll protect them like anyone. I am the guardian of this Earth, after all."

The bio-android opened his mouth in protest, but his body went into a frantic pant, visibly shaking while his eyes spastically blurred and unblurred. That cost him too much, especially with those two devils always closing in on him. And slithered back they have, taking a position on each of his sides in the sky.

"And now, you're gonna get what's been always coming." Android 13's aura was now as dark as Darkseid's. Strangely enough, whatever has come of them, he retained what character he had while Darkseid became mute.

The bio-android stared daggers at them before closing his eyes for the briefest of moments. This time, there was a peculiar notch in his stomach.

The still, artificial air of the watchtower never felt chiller. There was a palpable dread that started with Cell and only intensified with the sighting of the androids. No soul would dare wander idly or linger in the watchtower, lest the air gets to them too. Not that there was much time to leisure anyway- the western side of the world was in complete disarray. There are tens of millions displaced and newly destitute citizens, all living alongside their damaged cities that have an estimated cost range from billions to a trillion.

Meanwhile, the evils of the world have been wrapping their cold fingers on the opportunity. Crime, especially of the supervillain type, has skyrocketed the very day Cell left the planet. The comradery that villains entertained at the time was merely a ruse, a way to ensure that they would not be a top priority following the end of the cataclysms. And they were not; not one of them were persecuted- there simply isn't the manpower left to stop them. The Justice League's gallery of heroes were shortened due to Cell's rampages. So terrifying was he, that many heroes quit altogether than to have the chance to one day be at his mercy.

With the coming of Darkseid and Cell, however, the whole space station felt the shift in mood. No soul may ever forget the last words Cell gave to the people of the Earth, wherein he decreed that his return meant the end of the Earth if he was not sufficiently challenged. Worse still, Superman and his posy, virtually their only hope, are nowhere to be found. The uncertainty was murderous to the psyche.

In the laboratory were mountains of paper blotched with coffee stains and annotations. Alien-looking engineering tools were littered around the lab.

Batman and Bulma shut themselves off any outside communication besides John Stewart's scouter transmissions. Their eyes sagged and their sluggish movements artificially enhanced by the coffee surrounding them. They worked as much as they could in the laboratory of the watchtower. They worked in tandem, with Batman reading the journals to understand the motifs of Doctor Nero and his intentions. At the same time, Bulma viewed his schematics for ways to directly defeat the androids. The research Batman conducts gives insight into the possibilities of Bulma's engineering.

On Bulma's hand was the completed self-destruct prototype for the androids. Through Batman's findings, it was found that due to Doctor Nero's adverse despondence towards the androids, it is likely there was a deactivating switch or device within the androids. She gave her work a glance and a pout before tossing it in the bin across the desk.

"Dammit," She grimaced, her finger tracing the near indecipherable work of Dr. Nero.

There were far too many projects with obvious world-wide benefits that were either never finished or turned into something horrifying. To salvage some good out of the madness was worthy of at least a dozen Nobel prizes. For their sake, it could mean the universe.

"Everything's moving too fast!" She jammed her fists onto the table and ran her fingers through the locks of her hair. "We spent ages on a kill-switch for a bunch of robots that are already destroyed! And now look!"

She and Bruce watched as the battle waged on in a now barren wasteland. Through the first-person video feed they gathered from John Stewart's scouter, the league members stationed there are little more than reporters under the noses of gods. One of them is a god, and his presence leaves no doubt in the likely outcome of the turmoil. Regardless of who wins, death is the ultimate answer, and none of these papers of the inner machinations of Nero's schemes could save them.

And in all the while, not a few minutes have gone without a thought of her son. To think for even a moment that he could become a martyr in this carnage churns her heart. To fight and die for people he hardly knows…

Bruce, still stoic and still, said nothing as he continued to decypher the long passages of the doctor's work. While Bulma delved into the man's machine, he did what he does best: Diving into people's minds. His dense countenance spurred in surprise after reading a particular passage.

"Perhaps we aren't wholly out of luck."

He handed the paper to Bulma, who stretched it over her table and gave the text a gander with a meticulous eye.

Journal Entry: X

The pain is becoming unbearable. This disease, this ailment, whatever the hell it is, it is practically eating me out alive. I have discovered through testing that this disease is an unnaturally aggressive form of cancer, and that my body received waves of radiation from the moment I arrived at this timeline. It must have been caused by either the time travel or the universe itself. The failure rate of the reproduction of my cells is too high and widespread to be saved from. In my physicality, I have become little more than a rotten prune, who walks with a cane and for no more than a few feet every breath.

Nevertheless, I write to reflect. Of all the works I have created, this last one must be the worst. These androids were forced upon me by that maniac Luthor- it is his fault. If anything, their only good is in murdering him. They could never be counted on saving anyone, let alone replace the Justice League as per Luthor's grandiose idiocy. Though, as foolish as the man was, it was me who fell into his servitude all these years—his ability to connive escapes even my understanding.

The idea was flawed from the start. They are powerful specimens indeed, each one stronger than almost any Earthly hero as by design. Still, because they lacked the seemingly anachronistic ideals and platitudes of the Justice League, the 'soul' if you will, they could not hope to overcome them. Thus, I gave them personality chips with coding done by a personality model matrix. This, I believed, would give them the human spunk that the Justice League has.

I was wrong. In every simulated scenario, they lost to the Justice League.

I lingered back to the drawing table. I tweaked their personalities for years. I studied the League's goings from afar and remodelled them off various heroes under their ranks. I had it down to the very mannerisms- the way they walked, the food they ate in the morning, the physiological effect of how they breathed... My escapade of drones did all this work, each being smaller than the smallest fly. But still, did these androids fail! I turned to do a full reproach by studying psychology and human behaviour. I did not return to my project for many years more. For a time, even, I started painting.

I did come around eventually to completely remodelling their personalities. Instead of using a matrix to autonomously generate it, I manually hardcoded every bit of their personalities, down to their levels of perceivable freewill and overarching philosophies. I mashed all my data of the Justice League members together. This took many years to accomplish, and still,oh, did they fail.

These machines, they are not just terrible cooperators, they are plain insane! Throughout every scenario where I left them to ruminate without any objective, they kill each other! No matter how well I modify it, every one of them became psychotic if given enough time. Human personality proved too complicated, and thus, they were all failures.

Well, all of them except one, Android 16. This android I modelled after my son. He was my last, and the only one who helped keep my sanity. I made him a guardian. He was smarter and more knowledgeable about his existence. Slow to anger and in tune with nature. A tower-tall man he was; he had the strength of all of them combined. He always wanted to be tall.

I couldn't. I just couldn't.

I went back to the drawing table. I was now an old man, but my hate had never faltered. Perhaps the madness of being alone all these years started to get to me. Nevertheless, I had one more idea up my sleeve.

If unconventional means do not work, then the tried and true brute force will. I created a being borne of all my hate, my regret, maybe even my insanity, and mixed it in with the ideals of the Justice League. I planted this seed deep within the machine annals of Android 13, my 'leader' model. It will be the final tactic if all else fails, a monstrosity with the power of every android and myself. I coded in my own personality within this personality, so that it has the knowledge to repair and rebuild an armada to follow him if necessary.

But I will not use them.

A while ago, a thought dawned on me as I looked through Android 16's pod. Something lurched within my stomach when I watched his sleeping face. Something I have not felt in a long time.

I have lived a life of regret. My mind retreated into a castle in the forest and let the rest of my life wither away. All this time, I was trying to ease the pain of something I had yet to understand. I never tried to understand. I wasted all these years doing anything to avoid reality and plotting against something I never cared about.

There was a time when I was not always this bitter of a man. That time has passed now.

I know my path. With all the strength I still have in me, I will find a way to return to my timeline. If I can do that, maybe I can truly go backwards instead of falling into this time-hole. I can return to my son. Even if it takes me to the end of my days, even if I am to die the moment after, I will return to my son.

I need to tell him that I am sorry.

Bulma eyed the paper longer than she needed to.

"He didn't make it, of course," Batman repossessed the paper from her and placed it where he was. "I assumed he died suddenly as he was working in his lab. He omitted in his journal that the time machine is in Luthor's hands. He must have planned to attack Luthor with his androids to retrieve it from him. In addition, what we saw in that supercomputer was likely a backup AI copy of him from his earlier, more hateful years. The android activation was a failsafe that still had their original objective."

"Yes," She focused on nothing as if it were something. "Of course. But how does this help stop the androids?"

"Now that we know of this blue newcomer's origin, this Android 13, the way I look at it…" Batman held the long paper up high as if it were scripture. "What Doctor Nero wrote on his journal leads me to believe that this, 'ultimate android', is some composite of all his other androids' systems put together, like a mosaic. A fusion if you will. If we built a self destruct for one of the androids, then…"

"It must work for him too!" Bulma's face brightened after the dullness of the earlier written calamities. Nevertheless, it scrunched back to a grumped form as quickly as it came.

"Though, not only can't we be certain if this can even work," Bulma brought the self-destruct device out of the trash. It was a rectangular box with its bulbous red button being the primary feature. "But if it does, we don't know how dangerous activating it will be. If he is the endgame, then the power of his self-destruct may take the planet with him."

"I doubt it."

There was little room for discord in the franticness of this ordeal, and the stifling air did not help either. Bulma rose from her seat with a grimace and slammed her hands on his desk. "That's it? You doubt it? You're willing to risk everyone's lives because you doubt it?"

"I said what I said. We hardly have a choice." Batman's expressions remained unchanged. The room felt even chiller. To ease the tension, Bulma slapped him across the face.

"How dare you! Don't think anyone will forget for a moment that it was you who destroyed Metropolis. Even if the city was evacuated, even if you had good intentions, anyone left by chance would have perished! My own son could have died! Their blood would be on your hands!"

"I can't risk the safety of the Earth, the universe, just because of a small potential danger. We are the Justice League, we-" Batman stopped himself abruptly after hearing a soft squirm. He did not realize he was gripping her hand and crushing it with force. He let go, only for Bulma to slap him once more.

"Your morals, your stupid cliché platitudes, gone! You've acted with this on-edge ever since that Superman thing."

Bulma paused as she clicked on her scouter and fixated on the readings it presented on its screen. "Don't even get me started with your lack of faith in your allies. Is that why you teamed with Luthor? Your league's enemy? C-19? That freakish lookalike who only helped make Cell stronger?"

"How did you-"

"I made the scouters. I can access and track them no matter how many times you tried to reverse-engineer this feature."

Again did Bulma's eyes leave Batman as she peered on the monitor with ground-level camera feed. They need to act fast.

"You're a crazy man, Bruce. Believe me, I know crazy. But I don't have time to waste listening to your stupid banalities. This is my device, after all."

She thumbed the button of her makeshift contraption ever-so-slightly, looking back at the button and the battleground with inquisition. Batman stared all-the-while in a half-minded despondence, always as if his attention was elsewhere.

Finally, she let out a sigh.

"The stakes are too high, so… we will use it as a last resort. We can give it to Superman when he comes back, and if the situation gets hot, he can use it at will."

"You made the right choice." He spoke brazenly. "With this, we can-"

"And after this, me and my son are leaving. This is not our world. We only stayed because of our clearly misplaced altruism."

Bulma grimaced at the sight of Batman and his costume. He and the rest of them were people playing dress-up with their world as a playground to exert their archetypal platitudes… Otherwise known as the insane.

"Besides, I don't want my Trunks to stay and get into the thick of this inanity."

A beeping came from within Bulma's coat-pocket. She wrenched another contraption from her lab-coat, this time one with an assortment of buttons, switches, and indicators that blinked on and off. One of the indicators blinked a green light in bursts.

Batman's words went low and drawl, in a respectful but subtly mocking way. "Speaking of the boy,"

Bulma paced towards the video monitors and fired off a few keys to switch one of the panels to a different location- a daylit beach on the other side of Earth. An aqua-coloured light shined above the horizon and cascaded downwards in a diminishing fashion. Once the light touched the island's sandy ground, a large silhouette from above began to descend below, one shaped like an ornate egg with yellow spikes jutting from its bottom.

Both Batman and Bulma's scouters from across the room rang a communication notification.

The two breathed out a sigh. "It looks like they've arrived."

The light surrounding the time machine gradually diminished in luminosity and size, dimming until it shone like a lean pole in the middle of the sky, and then faded out of existence. The time machine descended on the shores of a beach in the early afternoon at Oceania. The crystal-clear waves that encircled the island brushed itself on the bumble-bee coloured machine, flowing and retreating in both sound and water in rhythmic fashion, parting sand on the hind legs. The sea only mellowed due to the sun's rays- otherwise, the trot of all the multi-colored fish was there to see. Above were the chirps and coos and pattern-rich birds that circled the island in unison. A few flew a bit farther than the rest and guided the flock's flight pattern. Just a bit below, robust, and colossal tall palm trees dotted the green parts of the island, encrusted with a hardy brown wood that even the toughest man would find Herculean to fell. The ripest of coconuts hung suspended on the armpits of its top, where green leaves taller than the tallest giraffe could pick from lie.

Trunks left his gaze on the sky and shifted his focus to the sea. The two, Wonder Woman and Trunks, relaxed against the time machine.

"Looks like you've got a liking for that Saiyan armour."

"Oh, this?" Trunks patted on the chest piece. The blue and white design contrasted with everyone's battle gear in the group, let alone the Justice League, wore. It spoke of his alien-ness in an already alienated society. In a league of superpowered men and women in costumes, he still managed to stick out like a sore thumb.

"This is what my father used to wear. I feel closer to him whenever I wear it. It makes me feel like he's giving me his courage, his strength."

The Amazonian let out a quip of a chuckle and said, "Trunks, you are already one of the most powerful and courageous people I've met."

Trunks let the words sink in while he shifted his gaze to the birds, and then palm trees, and then the sand, not knowing what's best to look at.

"Awestricken? To be honest, I've seen much better in the America."

"Yeah, well…"

"What? Do you not have beaches on your Earth?"

"No! No, it's not that…" Trunks ran through this nostrils with his finger.

"Ah, you have never been to one?"

"No- well… maybe in passing."

"Oh?" She craned her head over-so-slightly.

"Growing up, I… never had the time. I spent most my life either training or saving whomever I can. Even if I did have some time, I would feel too undeserving to visit a place like this."

"And what about now?"

The Saiyan wonder looked to the sand on his boots before quickly shifting upwards, his brow furrowing. An unnaturally stiff breeze panged against the island. It was like a plague that smelt of only the premonition of death. It whipped the coconuts off the leaves of the trees and disoriented the flight of the bird leaders, causing all the flock to fly in inordinate directions. Trunks could feel his heart rattle, not by the breeze, but by its foulest stench that the untrained mind can't sense.

Superman briskly went towards the two with Superboy and Supergirl in tow, clasping his attached scouter. His eyes, sunken and stern, barely looked at either with his worrisome expression.

"We have to move, now. Gotham is being bombarded by the universe's worst rogue gallery."

"It must be Cell." The sternness on Trunks's face has not left him. "I can feel his presence." Wonder Woman corroborated the thought by looking back at the direction of the wind. A trail of evil and the alluring scent of chaos slithered down that path.

"Yes," Superman said. "And worse. I'll explain it in the comms."

Superman fished from his pocket a small white capsule, labelled with the insignias of Capsule Corporation and the Justice League. He pressed on its cap and tossed it towards the time machine. In a gaseous and audible poof, the time machine shrunk and disappeared into the capsule as the container dropped to the ground. He lazily eyed it in short respect for its ingenuity before throwing it to Superboy.

"Fly to the watchtower. I've heard from Green Lantern that they have an important weapon for us there. Bring it back to Gotham at as fast as you can."

There was no protest from Superboy, whom himself nearly buckled under the magnitude of the situation.

Superman nodded to the rest of the group as his feet left the ground. The three floated a distance up before booming towards the direction of Gotham, leaving a thunderclap and air ripples in their wake. The birds that flew overhead of the beach were knocked by the after-effects. They spiralled towards the ground before its leader beat his wings forward with all his strength. The rest followed in his wake, the pack returning to normal for another circle in the afternoon sun.

Superboy stared deeply into the direction Superman took, then the birds, gave a sigh, and flew to the watchtower.

As he made his ascent, he gave one last look of the island. It was beautiful; its pristine water, ocean-life more diverse and colourful than he's ever seen, and strong palm trees forged from millennia of beautiful evolution. What he didn't notice was the fact that this island did not exist more than a year ago; It had appeared all out of thin air. From another space and time, it was once the habitat of an old martial arts master, lover of all young and boisterous women, and a turtle that can speak.

Blood ran down the swollen eye of Perfect Cell like an old faucet that drips its excess water from its rusted parts. His good eye, raw and prattling, still has all its vision on the blurs of opponents. They are slow to advance, savouring the hunt like cat to its prey. As blurred as they are, the eye can still make out the glowing surges of red protruding from them. They are, at this point, portentous and enigmatic creatures of the night; devils, ones that thirst to sink into his flesh.

His hearing was already shot out and allowed only the most plainly understood of sounds. The cold night air rustling in the wind, rubble and broken fixtures shifting itself, and the ominous pounding of feet as they drew near.

Nevertheless, he stood, his legs anchored to the ground and his arms stretched before him in offensive position. He said a string of inaudible ramblings to ease the pain in his chest.

They pounced like rabid dogs. One of them yanked on his leg and sunked their fingers in before ripping it from the rest of his body. The other shot streams of heat that ran through his chest and left holes in him. One punch there, another kick in the abdomen, and the two were off in a cathartic rampage of savagery. His teeth were punched in, his good eye swollen shut and then incinerated with a part of his head, and limbs were again freed from his body, the tendons of which peeled away like strings of cheese.

Cell let out a blood-gurgling cry, a testament to his righteous and all-powerful perfection, before thrashing at the shadows that stood in his way. It worked… for a time. They retreated into the obscurity of the surrounding dust, leaving only the rippling sounds of their movements. They were nigh gone, their power levels undetectable because of the influence they were under. And when their movements deafened, when he was sure the shadows won't leer back, he grabbed on his leg with his sweated palms and tried to regenerate his stump of a right leg.

Unfortunately for Cell, it was far too late for him. The shadows returned before long, bearing fruit the final assault.

He slumped on the ground, feeling a bit lighter. With his face caked in blood and his opponents at arm's length, towering above, uncomplainingly waiting for the vestiges of spirit to die, he lunged at them. He viciously wagged the business end of his arm. This time, the two didn't budge and moved even closer to him.

It was then when Cell took a moment to look at the hand he tried to fight them with. His hand resembled more of a discombobulated mound of meat than anything else. His eyes widened. He tried to push back, but he couldn't move. He felt up his body to see that the lower half was gone. The heat around him swelled, and his eyes perked up to see why. It was Android 13 and Darkseid who had closed the gap between them.

The red in their eyes screamed of a bottled ectasy, the kind of look of a child has as a cake is baked before them. Hot blood drooled from their mouths, smearing their teeth which spiked as they bore it to their prey. They cackled, rubbed their hands, smacked their lips, and sung the only song that they knew.

I am perfect!

I am perfect!

I am perfect!

He took his only arm and ground his elbow on the dirt, forcing trudge after trudge in the opposite direction. He fought to get a foot away with every push, stopping only to grunt in agony when Darkseid forced his boot on his chest. And even then, he squirmed and withered, which only moved the gravel he lied on around.

"Lemme see his face. Just a quicky peek." Android 13 said. Darkseid knelt and grabbed on Cell's crown until it broke in two. He held his tongue until then, but at that point, all his pain routed into a desperate cry.

Darkseid rolled the bio-android's head to the side.

"My my…"

His face, showing the even paler, pain-stricken look than ever, still heaved from his limbs being torn asunder. His eyes were swollen shut to blindness, his cups of an ear torn off, and his nose broken apart, leaving only a skeletal hole that he breathed shallow breaths from. But alas, nothing, nothing, was more savouring than the pure, unadulterated fearthat exuded from him. No more ramblings, no more monologues, no more snarkiness, no more confidence, just… fear.

"All that ultimate creation talk must have puckered you out." Android 13's lips perked in a half-smile. "Earlier, you asked why no one understands what you are." He spat on Cell's face.

"You repugnant worm, goddamn psycho. Don't forget, without all that stolen power of yours, you're nothing. A plague, an abomination, a pretender. That's what you are. Never forget that."

Android 13 took one big satisfying breath. He stretched his elbows back and took in only the beautiful scents of the night.

"I'm tired of tormenting. How about I deliver some justice?"

He placed his hand over Cell's prune of a face like a young girl delicately putting flowers on a vase, or an archaeologist feeling the cracks of a revered monolith. A red glow pulsated from his hands, resting just above Cell's blocked eyes. There was panic at first, a rustling in the forest, but then, a still, calming silence, his head slagged towards the ground.

An explosion lit up the area, enough to alarm the old Justice League party nearby.

"Superman?" John Stewart said through his cracked scouter, his eyes filled with the light of the explosion.

"John," His voice rang through the static. "We may be too late."

Hey again my beloved peeps! I'm back after another year hiatus, and with a new name too. Many of you remember me as JKFallen or my other names, but now I'm switching to TontonJ… for now. Thinking about switching to Jdaello...

Seriously though, if you've been reading this since 2015-2019, THANK YOU. You are A Malfunction veteran! The war is ending soon though. I will write one last mega chapter for this story, and then I'll end it at there as it can be considered as complete, in a way. I may come back to it in the long future (think years) but for now, I'm moving on to greener pastures.

What is this greener pasture I'm moving on to? Well, I won't say until the last chapter, but I'm planning on writing my BEST STORY YET, on of course. It will be another Dragon Ball crossover that you guys will NEVER forget.

The last chapter is coming out sooner then you think. Until then, see ya guys! STAY TUNED.