Disclaimer – If they were mine … should I even finish this sentence?

Continuity - After the end of Z, but well before the start of GT.

Feedback - Very much appreciated.

Building Chaos

© Scribbler, 2005

Prologue -Tenshin's Pride

Tenshinhan never stated his pride. There was no need to. Everyone he knew was already well aware of it, and those he didn't soon learned.

His honour was an integral part of his mental make-up – in no respect more so than when he was in battle. An assassin and survivalist by trade, Tenshin nevertheless was as much at home when fighting as when stalking, tracking and hunting. He had spent countless years creating and perfecting attacks and intricate manoeuvres, testing them against the best opponents the world had to offer, and using them to deadly advantage when the need arose. At one point, not so very long ago, he had been amongst the top three most powerful people on the planet, and though now eclipsed in power by various aliens and whatnot, he hung onto that scrap of status more than the homes he'd lived in.

Which was why, when two young boys took his hard-won attacks, learned them in minutes and improved upon them in less, he was a little less than pleased.

The year following the battle with Majin Buu found Tenshin training to an almost obsessive degree, honing his old attacks and creating entirely new ones. He did this, not because there was any impending threat to Earth, but because his pride had received a huge blow when the fused being known as Gotenks – to all intents a boy not yet ten years old – outshone him with his own moves. Tenshin had been a warrior for longer than Gotenks' single decade, and it smarted that everything he'd worked so rigorously for could be turned back upon him so easily.

He reasoned that he would not have felt so strongly had Gotenks simply generated his own attacks from scratch, as Goku had done so many years ago when he beat Tenshin in battle. What stung was the knowledge that he had been copied – nay, improved upon – by a child. For a principled combatant like Tenshin, there were few worse insults.

Training seemed the only salve. Luckily, the northern wilderness where he made his home outside times of crisis made for an excellent training ground. It was one of the reasons he had chosen to settle there after years of constant travel. The inhospitable surroundings were not really that. They provided enough sustenance that he and his two companions could survive admirably, even in the hardest months. Which meant Tenshin's intense training had no undue interruptions, should he not wish them. Granted, Lunch often went to check on her trucking company in the city, which meant she spent only about two thirds of the year out there with him and Chaotzu, but the rest of the time the land served them well enough.

"Three Point Barrage!"

Three slender beans of coloured light, each bright and vivid as a strip of rainbow, arced through the air and shattered a rock easily the size of a small building. The remaining fragments of stone glittered, they were so small, and cascaded to the ground like settling mist.

Tenshin hovered high above the spot, scowling. His mark had been off by a few centimetres, he was certain. He had meant to strike at the very centre of the rock, turning it to dust in less than half the time that it had taken. His scowl deepened as he berated himself, and all three eyes immediately cast about for a new target on which to practise his new technique.

The Three Point Barrage was his current project, and one that he had spent the better part of the last month refining. He was almost neurotic in his tenacity. It was no coincidence that Lunch had taken another siesta to East Capitol to check on her business in the interim, or that Chaotzu had absconded somewhere more peaceful for his meditation.

Usually the two were inseparable, Tenshin acting as bodyguard, friend and older brother to the little former Emperor. Yet it was no secret that sometimes Chaotzu retired to the caves not too far from their home to 'clean out the cobwebs and recharge,' as he put it. It had something to do with psychic traffic and his telepathic abilities, but the intricacies of it escaped Tenshin. His own recent training simply meant that Chaotzu's destination had moved a little further away than normal, which suited both of them; Chaotzu because it meant he got some peace and quiet, Tenshin because it meant he could practise without fear of accidentally doing his little friend damage.

Lunch, on the other hand, had fled for the city in hopes that, when she returned, things would be, if not completely peaceful, then at least peaceable enough that she could walk out of the front door without fear of debris falling on her head. Neither her blonde, nor her blue-haired incarnations had appreciated being brained by the dusty, sneeze-inducing fallout of Tenshin's attack. The only difference in their reactions had been a favourite gun and where it was consequently shoved.

Tenshin spotted a likely looking target and flew swiftly towards it. Unlike with many of his more powerful attacks, the crux of the Three Point Barrage was that it needed no time to collect energy beforehand. Tenshin had come a cropper once too often to ignore that particular shortfall in his techniques, and had made a point of designing as many new attacks as possible that didn't involve lengthy periods of preparation. Most times it meant he sacrificed potency for speed, but with the Three Point Barrage he believed he'd finally hit upon a way to keep the two even. All that remained was for him to improve his fine control and accuracy, as well as the ability to fire off several attacks consecutively. While not time consuming, the skill still sapped a lot of his energy, and he typically turned in every night, so exhausted even his ki-sense ached.

His present best was three in a row, although he was working steadily to a fourth. Not even Goku's Kamehameha could do that.

At least, he hoped not. It had been nearly a year since he'd seen the Saiyan, and Goku had a nasty habit of surprising him that way.

The rock was big – bigger than the last one. Tenshin assessed the spot he wanted to hit, gauging where would be most effective for total destruction. Then he brought his arms forward, clasping his hands until all his fingers were laced together, save for both index. He reached inside himself, calling on his ki as all warriors with that ability did. He had been doing it for so many years now that he barely thought about the process anymore; everything just came on instinct, like breathing.

A small blob of bluish energy formed at the apex of the two fingers, swirling and darkening as it grew. When it was no more than the size of a coin, it turned an angry red, and twirled faster and faster, diverging and eddying, until finally –

"Three Point Barrage!" The cry ripped from Tenshin's lips. He concentrated, all eyes narrowing as he directed the trio of shafts earthwards.

There was the sound like rushing water and a detonation of light. The rock glowed for a fraction of a second, cracks spiderwebbing. Then it disintegrated and spewed itself all over the landscape in a haze of debris and noise.

When the dust cleared it was as if the boulder – and the section of earth beneath it – had never been. Not even a mound of dirt remained.

The smallest of victorious smiles tugged the edge of Tenshin's lips. Had he not been so dignified and serious, he might have punched the air.

Right on the mark.

The smile faded when he spotted a small figure cresting the ridge of the cliff not a hundred metres to his right. The rock-face was sheer, and it stopped upon reaching the summit. Tenshin blinked, not sure of what it he was seeing for a moment. Then allowed himself a wider, genuine smile. The pasty white skin and tiny stature were unmistakable. He broke off congratulating himself to drift closer, raising a hand in welcome.

"Chaotzu! I didn't think you'd be back yet."

Chaotzu raised his face, but his expression remained neutral. Long-lashed eyes blinked at his old friend, as if seeing him for the first time.

Tenshin hesitated, slightly thrown by this dispassionate display from the usually affable Chaotzu. The only times he could remember such an occurrence in the past had been when one or more of their companions, the Z-Senshi, had died. Needless to say, this immediately sparked alarms bells in his head, and he relinquished drifting for proper, rapid flight.

Chaotzu barely batted an eyelid at the change. He just watched Tenshin approach, silent and somehow eerily calm. He didn't even step aside when the triclops alighted beside him, merely swivelled his head, body abnormally rigid and tense. It was like he had forgotten who Tenshin was, and was simply observing until such time as he could remember.

Tenshin noticed and asked after the strange behaviour. "Chaotzu, what's wrong? What've you sensed?"

No answer. No twitch that might have signalled an aborted attempt at one, either. Chaotzu remained as a statue, stiff and cold.

Tenshin reached for his shoulder, at the same time wondering whether the Dragonballs were operable yet. Instinctively he stretched out his ki-sense to see whom – if any – of their friends they had lost this time.

What he discovered surprised and startled him.

Chaotzu's signature sat in the same cave it had inhabited for the past four days.

Chaotzu's ki, for some unfathomable reason, was undetectable to either technology or ki-sense. Nobody had ever been able to figure out the hows or whys – least of all Chaotzu himself. The only reason Tenshin was able to tell the location of his little friend was through the spiritual bond they shared as a side-effect of their telepathy.

Tenshin drew his hand back before it could touch the small figure. He automatically fell into a combative stance, shifting backwards a few steps. The false Chaotzu watched with neither curiosity nor disinterest, and made no move to do likewise. He only blinked, long lashes brushing garish red cheeks.

"You're not Chaotzu," Tenshin said softly. It was entirely needless communication, but filled the void of sound that had fallen between them. The wilderness was hardly a bustling hive of activity anyway, but, had he been paying attention, he would've sworn things had gotten even quieter than usual. "Who are you?"

The false Chaotzu blinked again. Then he swivelled his body around. Tenshin tensed, but no further movement ensued. He was unwilling to make the first move, lest this person be innocent and mean him no harm. However, by the same token, he was reluctant to simply let some charlatan just waltz up and catch him unprepared by adopting the guise of his closest friend. He hadn't survived so many years in his job by being careless. Plus, knowing the way Fate liked to throw dangerous surprises his way, Tenshin guessed that the fake was more likely to be foe than ally. What friend of his would go to so much trouble when they could plainly walk up to him instead? It didn't make sense.

So he stood, muscles taut and niggling only a little from a day of hard training.

Which was just as well, because when the first strike came he barely even saw it coming.

The false Chaotzu moved like lightning, one moment stationary, the next in motion. Thanks to his skills as a fighter, Tenshin could see the blur of movement where other, lesser humans would only have seen empty air. He leaped backward accordingly. Without pause, the false Chaotzu launched again, so that it looked as though a very small crater had formed independent of outside influence upon the ground.

Tenshin took to the air, skyrocketing straight up and then banking a sharp left into the horizontal, all the while keeping an eye on the false Chaotzu. He wondered whether it could emulate Chaotzu's specialised abilities and talents as well as his appearance, and found after a moment that flight was indeed in its repertoire. The little white figure followed him, matching his speed and meeting the turn with a readied fist. Tenshin twisted and caught it in the palm of one hand, surprised at the amount of power behind it. It was like being punched by Mr. Satan – enough to injure, or maybe even kill a normal person, but barely scratching the surface of his own damage control.

It doesn't have Chaotzu's strength. That's good. The thought was barely conscious, rather a realisation on some deeper, intuitive level – the same level that had kept him alive in battles past.

The false Chaotzu's facial expression had yet to change, and it remained unemotional still, as one tiny boot lifted and planted itself in Tenshin's other hand instead of his chest, as intended. There was no frustration, as might have befitted a fighter so thwarted, and nothing that might give Tenshin any idea as to who or what the impostor really was, or why he was being attacked.

Tenshin held the little doppelganger at arm's length, intending to demand answers of it. However, astonishment suffused him as the false Chaotzu blankly met his gaze, then contracted all his limbs inwards. What had been solid flesh moments before now became malleable, like viscous liquid. It slid through his grasp to reform once both hand and foot were free again.

Tenshin stared. If there had been any residual question as to whether this was Chaotzu before, then there was none now. He retook his battle-ready posture. This… thing might not have all of the real Chaotzu's abilities, but it seemed it had a few of its own to make up for that. Not what he needed right now.

"Who are you?" he demanded again, growling. "What are you?"

The fake Chaotzu floated, silent. It had definitely heard him, and cocked its head to one side as though contemplating an answer. Had it not been for the cold, dead look in its eyes, and the unemotional line of its mouth, Tenshin might have been fooled again by the familiar move. Chaotzu cocked his head just like that when he was puzzled.

Yet there was little time to dissect things, as the impostor sprang into action and slipped around his physical defences to land a quick punch in his third eye.

Tenshin felt a surge of pain, regardless of what a weakling blow it had been. His eyes, like any being's, were sensitive even to small strikes. He awoke his previously unused ki-defences, flaring them around him and pushing the false Chaotzu back several feet with the force alone. With it, he felt the usual flood of vivacity and confidence, felt it blazing along his veins, re-energizing his languishing energy levels and saturating him with the familiar sense of conviction that had made him learn how to use ki as a weapon in the first place, so many years ago.

That got the impostor's attention. It straightened, staring at him, and though it didn't open its mouth a collection of sounds filled the air. Tenshin blinked, thrown by the noise. It was like nothing he'd ever heard before, all grinding like metal and strange, high-pitched whining, like some animal in intense pain, interspersed with something that sounded remarkably like hot, bubbling fat. Inadvertently his skin crawled, and some part of him knew at once that this was no natural sound.

He might have demanded what the thing was again, had not renewed its offensive. Its speed was just as amazing as his. It flew straight at him, heedless of the swells of energy rolling off his body. Tenshin noted that it hadn't called upon any ki itself – though it must be using some to fly, he reasoned – and so powered up his own a little further.

The false Chaotzu bounced off the glowing barrier, chattering all the while. It tumbled backwards through the air, then halted itself a few feet away and paused, buoyant on the air currents. It made no further move against him.

Tenshin didn't drop his stance. He watched closely as the thing masquerading as his friend coasted blithely, as if taking in the sun and doing no more damage than the average beach-tourist. The average flying beach-tourist. It hadn't used any kind of energy attack yet, but that wasn't to say it couldn't. So, like any good combatant, he hung back, weighing up his opponent before trying anything stupid or rash.

He half-expected it to bowl at him again, or make another round of noises. What it finally did, after several minutes wait, was so unexpected as to completely floor him. Not least of all because he wasn't expecting to see the recognizable square of pinkish, Perspex-like material that quite literally grew out of the false Chaotzu's temple.

He gaped for a moment in open disgust at the sight of it, pushing against, and then through all-too-familiar white skin like a living thing breaking out of its egg. The skin offered little resistance, splitting like dry parchment. Yet there was no blood, furthering the notion that this wasn't – couldn't be – the real Chaotzu. It took Tenshin a few seconds after the square latched over the impostor's left eye to realise what he was looking at.

A… scouter? Man, I haven't seen those in a while. Not since… I was dead.

Inwardly he winced, remembering one of the lowest points in both his life and his career, when he'd been killed by the last remaining Saiyans in the universe – who just happened to be in the employ of a megalomaniac alien warlord-lizard called Freeza at the time.

Reams of data played across the scouter's smooth surface, impossible for him to make out. The false Chaotzu seemed to have no problem. It hardly looked at the figures scrolling past. In fact, it hardly looked at anything, gaze unfocused and blank, as though its body was functional but its mind wasn't home.

Tenshin slitted his eyes, not liking what the appearance of this technology portended. As far as he was aware, scouters had only been used by Freeza's armies and the soldiers of his relatives – in particular King Kold, now deceased. Other species either hadn't the need for such things, being able to sense ki and power levels with their own minds like the Nameks, or else they had no interest in ki at all, like the majority of humanity here on Earth. Very few races across the universe were able to sense and manipulate ki the same way the Z-Senshi could. Most preferred to rely on scientific, hi-tech weaponry they could hold and fire and see. Freeza's armies had been a special case, with warriors forced into learning ki-attacks without actually knowing any basic sensing techniques first – hence the scouter technology they had developed off the back of designs stolen from conquered planets, to help augment their vast militia.

Seeing a scouter like this made Tenshin wonder whether another member of Freeza's family had decided to drop in for a visit. It wasn't beyond the realms of possibility. Or maybe it was some other member of the Ice-jins, trying to succeed where the famous warlord and his father had failed. Either way, it meant nothing good for the defenders of Earth.

Yet that didn't explain the unexpected deception, trying to fool him by dressing up as Chaotzu. Nor did it explain the odd behaviour of this single, lone fighter. Surely it was illogical to send one weakling like this into their midst if they knew that the inhabitants of a planet had defeated the strongest a race had to offer? Granted, the wastelands were hardly teeming with ferocious warriors, but judging by what he'd seen so far Tenshin figured he would probably be enough to blow this fake away single-handed. Freeza had been no fool, and from what he'd heard of Ice-jins in general, they could none of them be accused of such idiocy.

So… what? Did that mean somebody else had hold of scouter technology, too? But why –

His inner litany halted abruptly when the false Chaotzu let out a piercing wail. It was unlike anything he'd ever heard. Tenshin tried to resist, but he clapped his hands over his ears anyway, wincing from the assault on his hearing. His eyes tried to scrunch shut, but he forced them to stay open. The noise certainly seemed to be coming from the tiny figure. Yet there was no movement in its face save blinking. Its eyes were fixed on him and his discomfort.

The wailing continued, growing louder and more insistent. Tenshin thought his mind would burst with the pressure. It was more than mere sound – beyond it. It scraped along his skin like a razor, slicing his thoughts and tossing them to the wind in a flurry of incoherent noise. He couldn't think – could barely breathe. It was perpetual sorrow, endless loss, and unremitting anger, all mixed up and thrown at him: raw power through sound. He grit his teeth and braced his muscles, but how could he fight something that had no form?

Still, the wailing went on.

What kind of strangeness was this? His mind attempted to register the question, but it was too jumbled, too fragmented. It was all he could do to pluck out the lucidity needed for a counter-attack against the maker of the noise. He felt himself drift lower in the air, ki-shields faltering. With a burst of profound effort he powered up again, letting the rhythmic pulse of his own life force partially drown out the incredible, terrible keening screech.

Tenshin clasped his hands, allowing the index fingers to meet and remain upright. Concentrating, he channelled a portion of his ki into the spot just above the tips, compelling the ball of bluish energy to form and shiver and grow. It was the only technique he could glean from the surface of his disorderly mind, and he had no idea whether it would work. Still, he had to try something.

The energy turned red and divided into three separate blobs. Tenshin focussed, drawing on both his assassin and his warrior's training to find his still-point – that calm, collected place he went when launching an attack. Then, somehow making his lips work, he grated, "Three Point Barrage!"

The rainbow-like beams shot from his hands, cutting through the air and crossing the distance between him and the false Chaotzu in less than a second. They impacted with an explosive roar, hitting their target with surprising precision. The resultant shockwave kicked up a dust cloud on the floor far below.

The wailing stopped.

Tenshin drew a relieved breath, feeling the pressure in his ears and mind recede. His ki-shields prevented the dust from bothering him unduly, but he instinctively raised an arm to screen his face anyway. When it was gone, he dropped his arm and looked at where the impostor had been, not sure what to expect. It hadn't been using any kind of shielding, and his attack was powerful enough to vaporize any normal human being.

His jaw very nearly thumped on the rocks below at what he saw.

The false Chaotzu floated, totally unscathed and watching him dispassionately. His attack may as well have been a mosquito for all the damage it had done. Even its clothes were still whole, with not even a wisp of smoke to indicate it had been attacked at all. Yet no barrier, no protective ki-shield surrounded it.

"It… it can't be…"

Only after he had gawped for a few moments did Tenshin notice the faint flickering of the fake Chaotzu's outline. Its profile wavered, going fuzzy in places and remaining whole in others, almost like a poor quality TV reception.

What the… He blinked, wondering if a stray piece of gravel had indeed gotten in his eye. But no, the false Chaotzu was indeed faltering; until finally, with a vague 'pip', it gave out completely. A hologram, Tenshin realised, even as he took in the form beneath.

It was as strange a creature as he'd ever seen – silver-grey in the sunlight, and pulsing with some unseen force. The… thing, for that was really the only name to give it, seemed made of metal, but it a metal unlike anything Tenshin had ever come across in his life before. Had it not been for the metallic sheen and tallying colour, he might have thought it covered in flesh. Certainly, the substance throbbed like it had an heartbeat somewhere within. Large, palpitating cords ran just beneath the surface; maybe wires, maybe veins. It was impossible to tell.

Yet if its make-up seemed organic, then its shape belied any such presumption. Tenshin was used to human, or at least loosely humanoid opponents. Even creatures like Cell and Majin Buu had stuck to the basic universal design – arms, legs, head etc. But this thing, as soon as it realised its hologram was gone, gave up the contorted shape that it had adopted and returned to what he presumed was its natural form – a misshapen thing with none of the prerequisite body parts. A pulpy mass of writhing metal and blinking lights, he couldn't tell whether it was looking at him or not. There were no eyes, no facial features of any kind. Only the pink scouter remained, now an integral part of the creature instead of just a glorified eye-patch. He found himself fixating on it, as though by doing so he could tell what its next move would be.

What is that thing? An android? He thought about #17 and #18, and instantly dismissed the idea. An android insinuated human shape, and there was nothing even remotely human about… this. Definitely some kind of machine, though. But what a machine…

For the first time in his life, Tenshin wished the self-confessed genius Bulma Briefs was there. He had never particularly cared for her whining and general loud-mouthed insolence before, but mayhap she would have had more idea as to what this thing was than him.

The metallic entity chittered unintelligibly, maybe in some language he had no knowledge of, or maybe just making obtuse sounds for no reason other than to make them. Whatever it was doing, it didn't do it for long. It surged forward suddenly and without warning. Tenshin barely had time to dodge aside, and it blew past scant inches from his foot.

Damn, it's fast.

It didn't seem to turn around, but flew backwards as accurately as if it had. Front and back had no meaning, since there were no eyes for it to turn on him. It twisted this way and that, knowing where he was with unnerving accuracy.

Tenshin cupped his hands and threw a nameless ki-blast at it. The energy splashed off harmlessly, not even impeding the thing's headlong flight, and he was forced to drop down away from it again.

It halted and dropped after him. from one side a thin tendril of something almost-liquid, almost-solid reached after him. It stretched, impossibly long.

Tenshin picked up speed, zigzagging through the arid air. The creature matched his manoeuvres easily, and though the tendril was quickly reabsorbed it didn't give up chasing him. Tenshin ricocheted off cliff-faces in an attempt to at least put some distance between them. It was like trying to outrun his own shadow.

It had been a long time since Tenshin was the Hunted, not the Hunter. He didn't like it much. He fired as many quick energy attacks as he could at the thing, but nothing seemed to faze it. He considered one of his more powerful techniques, but that involved staying still for an extended period of time, and despite the weakness of the strange entity's physical blows and as-yet absence of energy attacks, something deep in his gut told him that staying still was a Very Bad Idea. Tenshin had long-since learned to trust his gut feelings, and now his senses were screaming at him to keep moving and out of reach, though he had no real idea as to why.

It was a stalemate, of a sort. Tenshin could hit the machine, but not damage it. It could match his flight with ease, and was obviously hostile, but it had no power with which to take him down.

He ratcheted a hard right and flew parallel to the cliff wall, tracing a path closer to his living quarters further up the valley to where he trained. Not that he wanted to show this creature where he lived, but a desperate idea had formed in his mind to break the odd standoff.

He broke lines only when he reached a curious precipice high above, flying up to it and the collection of large rocks and boulders atop it. Once there, he let a small burst of ki weaken the crag but not destroy it completely, instead ducking below it and allowing the creature to follow him.

Tenshin laid on all speed, a blurry patch of empty air to the amateur observer. Once directly below the destabilized precipice he turned over on his back, pausing and cupping his hands. Another volley of unnamed energy bursts ploughed into the curved peak, blasting through it and letting all resting on it come plummeting down … right on top of him and the creature.

Tenshin's mouth became a grim line. He wasn't sure why he thought mere boulders – incredibly heavy boulders, but boulders nonetheless – would inflict any sort of damage where his Triple Point Barrage had failed, but he was hoping that whatever made the creature impervious to ki-attacks didn't work against more physical assaults. Like a few hundred tonnes of rock crashing down on whatever passed as its body.

He flared his ki-shields, powering upward through the rubble, destroying any smaller rocks that got in his way and dodging the larger stones so that their progress and purpose weren't impeded. His diligently honed defences didn't fail him. He careened out of the confusion, clothing only a little ragged.

He braked and turned, surveying what he'd caused. The rubble continued its plunging descent, smashing anything and everything in its path. Trees were uprooted, lesser rocks crushed, and a whole new landscape formed at the bottom of the canyon. Clouds of dust and grime sprayed into the atmosphere, gouting out like the land itself was bleeding. Tenshin took grim satisfaction from the fact that he couldn't see the metal… whatever it was, anywhere. It had been caught in the collapse.

Breathing hard from using so much ki in such a short amount of time, Tenshin all the same kept his shields up. His fists dropped to his sides, though, and he raked his eyes over the wake of destruction as the avalanche finally drew to a close and the wreckage settled.

Nothing. No sign of the machine whatsoever.

He allowed himself the tiniest of smiles.

It quickly faded. Weak as it was, there had been something… eerie about that bizarre machine. He hadn't ever come across anything like that before, save for when Cell was chasing the other androids and changing forms. And even then, it hadn't been quite the same. Cell had been powerful, but his motives had always been clear. He'd been very proud of them, in fact. Though he would never have admitted it to anyone, this thing he'd just encountered had unnerved Tenshin a little because there was none of that to contend with. He'd been completely at sea, unable even to tell what his opponent was, let alone what it wanted with him. though it had proved itself weak at offence, it had sparked a reaction in him he wasn't especially keen on.

Must be getting old, was the only concession he made for himself, floating aimlessly above the entity's final resting place like a dog guarding the spot.

Thinking about Bulma had stirred a few thoughts. He wondered whether to call and have her come take a look at whatever remained of this outlandish contraption. She was, after all, supposed to be an expert on stuff like this. If anyone could tell him what it was, and maybe its purpose, then it was Bulma. He still had several phone numbers and contact addresses of the other Z-Senshi and their allies in his living quarters, given to him by those who remained in contact with each other in times of peace –

Tenshin abruptly buckled, folding double in mid-air and holding his head in his hands. A high-pitched wail thrummed around him. He whirled, looking for its source, but he could see nothing except empty wilderness – vast and expressionless. The wreckage below hadn't moved, and he turned a full circle to no avail.

The wailing increased, pounding as loud as the pulse of blood thumping past his eardrums. His mind became woolly and unclear, shredded mercilessly by sound that was so painful it was almost palpable. He couldn't think, could barely hold onto lucid thought enough to maintain his ki-shields. And then even those began to wane, caught in the maelstrom that ground his nerves like so much raw meat.

He felt something warm and sticky against the palm pressed flat against his left ear. Though he didn't lift his hand away to look, some part of him knew that it was blood. He grit his teeth, tried to power up, tried to fly away, but nothing helped. The wail sliced deep into his brain, leaving him near-mindless with pain.

He didn't sense the presence above him. Neither did he see it. It was only when his shields faltered enough for a blow to land on the back of his head that he realised anything was there, and by then it was too late. Something cold and hard snapped shut around his skull.

And then the wailing stopped.

Yet what should have been a blissful respite instead became a headlong plunge to the ground. A thick curtain fell across his mind, numbing his control of everything until the world was just a blurry smear of colour rushing past.

He impacted hard, leaving a crater in the earth. Yet he lay where he fell, making no move to get up. He was barely even aware of the silvery blob landing nearby. Dark spots bled into his field of vision. He felt nothing as it hoisted him up with elongated tentacles and lay his prone body across it. Thin threads of living, pulsating metal snaked out and held him in place, slender as cotton but tough as steel.

But he didn't register them. All he knew was the faint sense of floating, even more insubstantial and weightless than when he flew, as his mind drifted away. And then, only oblivion.

Fade to black.

Very black.