Judgement

I think I knew that bastard's intention even before he did.

I saw the murderous glint in his eye, as that thick, brutish lip curled in a nasty snarl. I've seen that kind of rage light up many a warrior's eye... but this time, there was no helpless alarm behind the glare.

This brute actually had the kind of unnatural power to do something about it.

I took one look at that thickheaded Saiyan, and I could read his mind.

Kill... kill... kill...

Not very sophisticated, but he got points for focus.

Then, I took one look in the direction his burning gaze was directed.

Gohan.

The kid was completely terrified. No fault of his own... this was his first real fight. No amount of sparring, or even rigorous survival training, could completely prepare a person to face Death as it comes barreling at you at speeds that shatter the sound barrier.

Plus, the squirt was only five. He had never even raised his hand in self-defense before a year ago. I really can't count the Garlic Junior incident... the kid was acting out of pure rage and killer instinct, tapping into an insane amount of ki for any mortal to possess.

But now, the kid's rage is spent. His awesome potential has been snuffed out. He was bordering on exhaustion... he could barely stand, much less erect a ki shield.

He was probably wishing for dear-old Daddy to pull one of those last-minute rescues he's famous for.

Keep in mind, all this thinking goes through my head in a split-second. And just as Nappa begins moving, fists channeling enough ki to blow Asia into the water, I started moving as well.

I always prided myself in my good judgement. I've got one hell of a head on my shoulders. What I can't conquer with sheer force, I can beat with cunning, intelligence, and improvisation.

I never lose my head. I always act on cool logic and sound judgement.

Except now.

Don't even ask me what the hell I was thinking as I dashed in front of the indomitable ki wave. It didn't even occur to me that, if Gohan did die, Son would just use the Dragon Balls to wish him back. Sure, they had just been used, but so what? Knowing Son, he'd made some connections in the Afterlife. He'd probably arrange for Gohan to undergo some of that unique training only the gods can administer.

Then, Gohan would be resurrected right along with Yamucha and Tenshinhan, ready for a new challenge, with power he could never have attained with a mortal mentor.

Nope... it didn't cross my mind. Neither did the consequences of my own death. When I bite the big one, so does Kami... and with us go the Dragon Balls. And with us goes any chance of the dead Z-Senshi coming back to life.

Nor did I consider the very real possibility that Gohan would still die. Nappa's ki-stream was more than enough to reduce me to atoms, and with Krillin out cold there was nothing really stopping Nappa from just crushing Gohan afterward. Of course, this is still assuming the energy pulse doesn't cut right through me and wipe the kid out anyway.

None of it occurred to me. I only had one primal, thoughtless motivation for my action.

I couldn't just let it happen.

And I did the impossible. I outran the supernova of energy. Heh... I didn't even realize I could move that fast.

Gohan probably didn't even get to blink as suddenly, the blinding light that embodied his death was shrouded by the huge shadow the wall of my body cast.

And as soon as I was in place, I was hit.

There's no way to describe this kind of pain. I've had limbs ripped off like paper, bones crushed, and ki beams sliced right through me. And thanks to the memories preserved from my Sire, the first Piccolo Daimao, I very clearly recall the feeling of having a body tear right through my abdomen.

But this... this was beyond physical pain.

It takes a lot to destroy me. So long as my head is preserved, I can recover, or at least preserve my soul in a new body. But this blast was intense... the heat of a star searing loose fabric of leathery skin, and then scorching leathery skin from dense bone.

And impossibly, the heat of the stars didn't cut through me.

I don't know how I did it... but somehow I managed to focus my ki throughout the indescribable torture of having your tissue burned while still alive. That ki shield was stronger than any I've ever been able to muster, blocking the majority of the energy and preventing it from actually destroying my physical form completely.

If I didn't put every ounce of concentration into that shield, I wouldn't have stopped the energy from killing Gohan.

And as a result, I suffered even more. What would have simply obliterated me slowly peeled away strength, soul, and body. What should have been a quick, relatively painless death became the mind-numbing agony of radiating heat that didn't destroy, but battered beyond recognition.

And I didn't let my mind go numb. My consciousness became cloudy when the blast first hit, but I didn't let the sickly stench of scorched flesh or the sensation of astral heat on unprotected skin get to me.

So long as I was alive, I would block the beam. And so I hung on.

I don't know how long it took. Probably a second or two, but it felt like hours of ongoing agony. Until finally, the heat vanished, becoming an eerie chill that was just as uncomfortable as the heat.

I felt the cold, and was cognizant enough to know what it meant. I had succeeded.

And so I fell.

No more strength in what remained of my body. And no more force of energy keeping me in place. I just crumbled.

And without the overwhelming heat of the energy blast, I could feel the thousand individual pains that in themselves became a perfect agony.

Everything was broken. Every bone... some shattered, some cracked, some split. My ki shield kept my flesh from disintegrating, but it couldn't stop the eventual shattering of non-pliable bone when facing enough sheer force to push a planet out of orbit.

And I was so cold. I couldn't tell if it was my soul leaving my body, the loss of blood that left my veins empty, or the lack of the searing ki heat I had endured.

I could see, but only barely. I saw the blue expanse that must have been the sky, blotted with amorphous shapes. Who cared what was hanging over my head, anyway?

And as I looked at the sky, the most absurd thought crossed my mind. It's really... beautiful... this Earth...

Why the hell that jumped into my consciousness... don't ask me. Must've been delirious.

"P...Piccolo-san!"

Believe it or not, that voice pained me even more than the loss of flesh and bone. The kid was choked up, his throat raw from screaming.

I guess I just didn't hear him before.

The kid cradled my head gently, water from his eyes spilling onto my cheek.

And... I smiled. I'm not sure why, either.

Probably, it was because there wasn't a scratch on Gohan. I'd actually managed to block the entire ki wave that easily could've vaporized the both of us. Sure, I'd be paying for it big time, but Gohan was unscathed.

His well being was only temporary, but I didn't think about that then.

But... there was something else behind that smile. I don't know... for some reason, the tears that fell onto my skin burned... but it was a good burn.

This wasn't the first time I'd been dying... but it was the first time someone gave a damn about it.

I don't count Son. He cares about everyone and everything. When he gave me that senzu, waaay back at the Budoukai, I couldn't quite tell why. Maybe he pitied me? Oh... I'd make him regret that. Well, I don't really care anyway what his intentions were. He's just too bizarre to figure out.

But Gohan... Gohan's different. When I first met him, he was a whiny, screaming, spoiled brat. He was so sheltered he was scared of his own shadow... but for some reason, he was never scared of me.

Never.

And seeing him shed tears... for me, the Demon King who tried his best to kill his father so many times, and who actually succeeded just a year ago...

It made me feel a little bit warmer.

Honestly, I don't remember what I said to him. Something to encourage him, probably. One doesn't really remember the last moments in his life. Your soul is too tenuously connected to the Earthly realm to really absorb anything for any length of time.

It was like a dream... a lingering feeling of pain that slowly grew numb, and light that slowly faded to darkness.

And a smile that faded as well when the muscles in my face relaxed completely.

* * *

"Hey Piccolo... fancy meeting you here."

My eyes opened, slowly adjusting to the brilliant white light that surrounded me. Ever so slowly, I regained my mental and physical equilibrium, rising to my feet as I took in the puffy white-gold clouds surrounding me, and the cacophony of voices assailing my very sensitive ears.

I scowled, turning my gaze toward the voice that greeted me. "Great. Yamucha. So this is Hell, eh?"

The human frowned at me. But I could tell it was more from worry than a reaction to my snide comment.

"What's going on on Earth?" the midget demanded, floating up to peek over Yamucha's shoulder.

The triclops was right behind him. "Did you defeat Nappa, at least?"

I folded my arms, my scowl deepening. "No," was my terse response.

That idiot human's eyes grew wide. "What? You didn't kill him?"

I glowered at Yamucha, fighting the temptation to smack him upside the head. "If I killed him, then he'd be right here, on line for the Check-In station with the rest of the deceased." I shook my head. "Idiot."

Yamucha opened his mouth to respond, but thankfully changed his mind and clamped it shut again.

I glanced in front of the Z-Senshi, and stared wide-eyed at the endless line of white wisps in single file, all stretching seemingly infinite miles into the distance.

I groaned, slapping my forehead in disgust. "This will take forever!"

Tenshinhan smirked. "I suppose a few years' wait is no big deal for an eternal soul."

My frown only deepened. No, I wasn't exactly in a hurry to go to Hell, but at least I'd be able to get an update on what's going down on Earth. From the Line, there's no way to get any info.

I took a tentative glance behind me. A heavy weight lifted from my chest.

At least Gohan wasn't right behind me. He was alive... for the moment.

Chaiotzu seemed to read my thoughts. "How are Gohan and Krillin?"

"I don't know," I admitted crisply, "Krillin was unconscious. But Gohan was fine... when I left, at least."

Yamucha smiled smugly. For a moment, I was perplexed about what could put him in a decent mood. "Kami-sama said Goku was getting real close," he informed me, "He probably got there in time to save them."

That comment gave a sharp kick to my thinking process, and I gazed once again at the infinite line of amorphous spirits in front of us. "And where is dear Kami, anyway?"

"He went to see some guy called Enma-Daiou," Yamucha reported, "He said something about pulling some strings."

I folded my arms, a wry smirk on my face. "So that's why you guys still have your bodies."

Tenshinhan stared at me with three puzzled eyes. "What do you mean?"

In answer, I pointed my clawed hand at the expanse of white puffs of smoke. "Don't you know what these are? These are human souls... just like you. When humans die, their souls... the breath of life within them... escapes the body and ascends to this dimension. For some reason, you three have been allowed to keep a physical form... exact replicas of the bodies you had in life." I gave the surprised group a smug grin. "I take it Kami didn't explain things to you before he ran off."

Tenshinhan looked skeptical. "How do you know so much?"

I rolled my eyes dramatically. "You humans really are thick. I used to be Kami... same body, same mind. He expelled my Sire into a separate body when he was told he couldn't ascend to the guardianship of Earth with 'evil' in his soul. But guess who was still with him when he prepared himself to approach the previous Kami?" I tapped my temple for emphasis. "And guess who kept all that knowledge of Life and Afterlife?"

I figured that would shut those morons up... but the questions just kept coming.

"Kami-sama convinced Lord Enma to let us keep our bodies?" Chaiotzu summarized.

I nodded with exaggerated emphasis.

"Then what about you?" the midget continued, "Did he preserve your body too?"

I laughed deeply at the idiot for a solid minute before I could compose myself to respond. "You're kidding... right?" I wheezed, clutching my stomach, "You think Kami would help me! Where the Hell have you been for the past two decades... under a rock? I've been the bane of Kami's existence since that shrimp Pilaf set my Sire free."

The sight of the little schmuck staring at me, white cheeks flushed with burning rage, almost sent me into another chuckling fit. But I managed to calm down enough to set the idiots straight.

"I'm not human, in case you didn't figure it out yet," I drawled, "I can regenerate. That's right... my body can heal from almost any wound. Even if my entire body is ripped to pieces, so long as my head is undamaged, I can simply grow a new body."

Yamucha frowned. "So?"

"So, that means my head is the anchor for my soul. Unlike humans, my body and soul do not separate. My body will grow back. So, when my head was destroyed, my soul ascended to this dimension. But my body followed. I evaporated from Earth, my body healing itself and rejoining my soul up here." I pinched my cheek in leering emphasis. "This is my body. The real deal. With no help from that geezer Kami."

Thankfully, before those idiots could think up some more inane questions, a little blue imp in a suit with a clipboard tugged on my cape. Irritated, I turned toward it, giving the short man a very intimidating glare.

I smirked as the shrimp gulped, removing his offending hand from my cape. I guess I still got a way with people.

"Uh... um..." he croaked, loosening his hideous tie, "Enma-sama wishes to see the four of you. Immediately."

Yamucha gazed dumbly at the line in front of him before looking back at the imp. "What about the line?"

This time, I did smack the idiot- not hard enough to actually hurt him, but enough to knock him to his hands and knees. "What the hell did you think Kami meant by 'pulling strings' anyway? He wants to help move you guys along!"

"He asked for your presence too," Tenshinhan noted coolly.

I shrugged. "Yeah, he probably wants to get me on my way to Hell while he's at it."

* * *

I don't know how long I spent standing just outside the enormous, ornate door leading to Enma-Daiou's office.

The little imp was standing beside me, sweating bullets. He cringed every time my beady glare slid in his direction.

Damn I hate wussy paper-pushers!

I was the very picture of cool confidence. Bold smirk curling my lips, arms folded, chin held high, foot tapping in mild boredom.

But inside, I wasn't quite so cool. I was anything but cool.

I could imagine why Ten, Yamucha, and Chaiotzu were sent in together. They'd get the same fate. Either they'd be granted access to the Elysian Fields of Heaven, or, if they're really lucky, maybe Kami could convince Enma to let them take their chances on Snake Way. Kaiou has been famous for expertise in the fighting arts for my entire lifetime... including my Sire and even before he and Kami split. The greatest sensei in the northern galaxy. I hear he no longer actually fights, but he's mastered every technique worth knowing.

Those three idiots didn't deserve that kind of honor. But what can you do?

I figured out the game plan easily enough. They'd train under Kaiou, and eventually Ten and Yamucha would get wished back. The shrimp already died once, so he'd have to stay with Kaiou. Not a bad break, all things considered.

Meanwhile, I'd be in Hell. I can't say I was afraid of it... I knew that I'd wind up in the dark pit eventually. I just didn't think it'd be so soon! I didn't even get a chance to conquer the Earth. I didn't really get a chance to avenge my Sire, and destroy Goku once and for all.

Heh. At least I got a chance to kill him. That sure felt good, watching my Makankosappo tear a hole right through him.

And at least I got killed in a good fight. Nappa's a thug, but at least he was strong. It wasn't so embarrassing losing to a powerhouse like that.

Oh well. At least in Hell, I could show all creation why I'm called the Demon King.

I continued tapping my foot, my impatience escalating. Just what the Hell was taking so long? Funny... from here it almost sounded like they were… arguing in there.

I was impressed. Maybe Kami's got more fire to him than I gave him credit for.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the doors slowly swung open.

Without waiting for an invitation, I confidently strode into the large room. I didn't let my gaze divert to any side of the enormous chamber, inlaid with gold, velvet, and wood. I care not for material things.

Besides, I didn't want to make the big red guy at the desk think I was impressed or anything.

I strode right up to the desk, maintaining a small gust of wind with my ki to keep my cape fluttering in the still office. My arms folded, and I stared up at the large red demon measuringly.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Kami step out to my side. His face was almost purple with frustration.

In any other situation, I'd be hysterical at the thought of God being flustered. But we're talking about my Judgement Hour here.

"So," the giant rumbled, leering over his desk at me and fiddling with his rough black beard, "this is the great Piccolo Daimao?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but Kami beat me to the punch. "No, Lord Enma. This is not Piccolo Daimao. The Demon King has been destroyed forever."

I blinked, staring at Kami in naked confusion. He slid his stern gaze at me briefly, and then turned his attention back to the being behind the desk.

"So you keep affirming, Kami," Enma sighed, tapping his fingers against his desk irritably, "And I'm sorry. His fate is sealed."

I frowned, glancing back to Kami. Just what the hell was going on in here?

"Lord Enma," Kami continued, approaching the desk beseechingly, "you cannot in good conscience doom this soul to eternal damnation! This man is not the Demon King! Piccolo Daimao was destroyed by Son Goku years ago!"

Enma rolled his eyes, jerking his thumb to the edge of his desk. Perplexed, I followed the gesture, my eyes falling upon an absolutely huge file folder, stuffed with enough bedsheet-size pages to reach the height of Nappa himself.

"Is that my record?" I asked, truly befuddled. But I can't say I wasn't a bit proud. I hadn't realized I'd left such a scar on humanity to warrant that kind of criminal record.

"Yes it is, Demon King," Enma grumbled, anger in the deep voice, "And you've got the blood-guilt of thousands of people that's pulling you straight to Hell."

"But if your Lordship would only look closer, you'd see that the vast majority of those crimes were committed by the former Piccolo Daimao, who was already killed. You cannot condemn the son for the sins of his father."

I frowned again, staring at Kami in amazement. Was he actually trying to get me off the hook? What had he been smoking?!

Enma-Daio grumbled furiously under his breath, opening the enormous file and flipping through the pages.

"Kami, don't insult my intelligence," Enma warned, "I'm not a fool. This Piccolo is not the 'son' of the former Demon King. A father and son have distinct souls, and therefore have distinct moral burdens to bear. But in this case, Piccolo Daimao transferred his soul into a new body. New body, same soul. Same soul, same moral burden. I very well can punish this man's soul based on the actions of the former Piccolo Daimao."

"But my Lord-"

"When this Piccolo was born, he kept the memories, powers, and even emotions of the elder form," Enma continued, as if Kami hadn't even raised his voice, "According to this file, Piccolo Senior spat the egg right before the destruction of his body. By transferring his soul, he managed to avoid death completely. This is indisputably evidenced by the fact that, when Son Goku 'killed' Piccolo Daimao, you yourself did not die... despite the fact that your soul and Piccolo's are bound in life or death. You cannot live without Piccolo, Kami. And you did survive Piccolo Senior's passing. All of this evidence leads me to conclude that Demon Junior and Demon King are one and the same, and therefore the younger can be punished for the crimes of the elder."

The Judge then leered at me again, eyes hard as diamonds. "Have you anything to say for yourself?"

I was speechless, gaze leaping from Kami to Enma like a bee. I wish I could've maintained better composure... but I was too shocked that my damnation was even an issue to think clearly.

"Can you honestly tell me that you are not Piccolo Daimao? Do you not share his memories? Tell me... do you remember razing cities filled with humans to the ground? Burning families alive? Crushing children and women underfoot like sand on the beach?"

I swallowed hard. I can't even explain what made Enma so intimidating, but as he glowered at me, the record of all my deeds held tightly in his fist, I felt compelled to speak only the bitterest truth.

"I remember it all."

"And do you even regret those actions? Even in the least?"

My gaze suddenly turned inward, my eyes sliding closed as I relived the slaughter in my mind. I saw the burning towns, screaming people, strewn corpses. I even saw myself... my Sire... standing amidst the devastation, laughing deeply while swinging at Son Goku like he was a fly.

I saw it all... and I felt nothing.

My eyes opened, and once again I met the hard gaze of the Judge. And I spoke the truth.

"No."

No regret. But no happiness or elation. Not even anger at Son for getting in my way.

Just... nothing.

Enma smirked triumphantly at my admission, and leaned back into his chair. He stuffed the pages back into the file, and reached for a heavy wooden stamp. With his cold gaze on me, he pressed the stamp into the red ink sponge.

"Please, Lord Enma!" Kami shouted desperately, "A moment!"

Enma growled his irritation, the stamp hovering over the jacket of the folder. "There's nothing you can do, Kami. Just let it go. Your enemy has been defeated, once and for all. He will never again threaten the people of Earth. You, of all people, should delight in the fact that Piccolo will be punished. You nearly sacrificed yourself, just to make sure he would cause no more pain to your world. How can you beg for mercy now?"

Kami shook his head, his face adamant. "This being is not my enemy," he said sternly.

Enma clicked his tongue derisively, dropping the stamp to open the file again. He pulled out a sheet, and slid on his reading glasses. "Well, you entered the last Tenkaichi Budoukai, for the express purpose of facing this being in contest. And you fully intended to stop his destruction... by any means possible. You really have a short memory, Kami."

"I... was mistaken," Kami stated. His gaze slid towards me, and I startled as he offered me a weak smile. "And Goku proved it to me. It was Goku who spared Piccolo's life. He wouldn't kill the successor of the Demon King. Perhaps... perhaps Goku saw potential that no one else did. Potential... for good."

Hearing Kami say those words, I almost wanted to puke. But I was too fascinated by the entire scene to do much other than stare.

"He's a being of evil," Enma affirmed, "proven by action! I don't care about potential. Here, it's the deed that counts. And his deeds were dark!"

"Not all of them!" Kami shouted, suddenly transforming from subdued to impassioned once again, "If he were truly the Demon King... if he were only the evil essence I expelled all those years ago... then he would be completely incapable of anything but evil. He would be the living embodiment of evil! But he isn't, and that's why he cannot be considered the Demon King!"

Then, Kami's heated gaze fell upon me. I felt myself flinch under that ancient, fierce… knowing stare.

Somehow, he saw right through me. And it… scared me.

"You've done some bad things," Kami determined, "but it's not only how you lived. One must take into account how you died as well. And how did you die?"

I frowned, folding my arms again. For some reason, the question seemed too... personal. So I got defensive. "I fell in front of a runaway train," I grumbled, "and I got squashed."

Enma rose to his feet, his own face growing purple with frustration. "See, Kami! Listen to his snide tone! He doesn't even want mercy! He doesn't appreciate all you're doing to save his soul!"

Kami then turned to Enma. "He's a pig-headed, stubborn, arrogant man!" he nearly screamed, "But that doesn't make him evil!"

Then, Kami turned back to me. "Piccolo," he said, his tone forced calm, "you can feel the change. You can feel... the difference between yourself and your Sire. He was pure evil... completely incapable of anything good. But you... you aren't evil incarnate. You've demonstrated the potential to care. That is the core difference between 'good' and 'evil.' In themselves, they are only labels... but the difference is caring. True evil is utterly selfish. Good is selfless. And you, oh Demon Junior, laid down your life willingly for another living being. And I know you'd do it again. You didn't fall in front of the train... you leaped in front of it! I saw it all! I felt your thoughts! You cared enough for Goku's son to die for him... against your own better judgement! That kind of sacrifice cannot come from a heartless being."

I stared at Kami, my eyes wide and my jaw hanging slightly open. Good thing there aren't bugs in the next dimension, or I'd have swallowed a few for sure.

I couldn't think... I could barely breathe after Kami finished his little speech.

I wanted to deny it. I really did. I wanted to spite the old man, just like I always had. Just like my Sire had. Prove the goody-good wrong, just because he had the gall to shun my Sire from his own body centuries earlier.

But in that instant, as I stared into Kami's blazing eyes... my hatred died.

And somehow, I think Kami realized it.

Enma-Daio sighed deeply, cradling his forehead in his oversized hand. "Kami," he scolded, "you know well enough that one good deed does not balance the scales of justice. He may have saved one life, but he has taken thousands."

This time, Kami didn't turn his gaze to the Lord of the Dead. His marble stare remained fixed on me… as if he was prompting me to speak.

When I remained silent, Kami once again spoke in my behalf. But his eyes never left me. "I think the fact that Piccolo did save one life refutes the notion that he is truly the Demon King. Therefore, you cannot hold him accountable for the sins of Daimao. You can only weigh his act of love against the acts of hatred he committed."

A lump closed my throat, and suddenly I felt really dizzy. Kami… Kami said the "L" word! In reference to my actions!

UGH!

"If he isn't Daimao, then where is Daimao's soul?" Enma challenged, so furious I was half-expecting him to start breathing fire, "Tell me! Where is the soul that must be punished for the wrongful deaths of thousands of your people?"

"Why does it matter?" Kami retorted, "You are not a seeker of Vengeance, Lord Enma. You are the preserver of Justice. If you did send Piccolo to Hell, it would not change things. Those killed by Daimao would still be dead. Those who were evil would still be suffering in Hell. Those who were righteous still rejoicing in Heaven. None would even notice Piccolo's condemnation. It would be fruitless! Unjust!" His eyes narrowed. "Even… spiteful."

I flinched at that. Who'd have guessed Kami had the guts to accuse the Lord of the Dead of being spiteful!

Enma's fists clenched, his irritation becoming practically palpable. I could almost see steam pouring from his ears. "Fine!" he shouted, his powerful baritone shaking the entire office, "Then let's not hold him accountable for the sins of Daimao!"

He growled furiously, grabbing my file folder with both hands. He grabbed a handful from the top, and set them on his desk.

Then, his eyes blazing with fury as hot as Hell itself, he tore the thick folder in half and threw it cross the office.

I watched dumbly as the sheets fluttered lazily to the ornate tiled floor. Then, I turned back to Enma, who was brushing his hands together.

He then threw his most venomous glare at me, lifting the few sheets he had spared. "But there is still the matter of everyone who died during your fight with Son Goku at the last Tenkaichi Budoukai." He leaned over his desk, sticking his chubby forefinger into my chest. "You've got the blood of one hundred eleven people on your hands."

I fought down the impulse to slap the insulting finger away.

"He was acting upon the feelings instilled in him from Daimao," Kami interjected, "His mad quest for vengeance against Goku killed those people. But by saving Gohan, he has proven his true nature. He has rejected the will of Daimao! Given the same opportunity, Piccolo would not shed more blood. That is proven by the fact that he hasn't spilled a drop of innocent blood since! That was six years ago… and all he has done is work diligently to help Goku, then train Goku's son… and finally die for Goku's spawn!"

Enma's face twitched furiously. "I DON'T CARE!!" he roared, his harsh scream creating enough wind to blow Kami a few feet back.

"You must care! You can't condemn a good soul!"

"He isn't good," Enma snarled, "There's no way I'll admit him to Heaven. That is a slap in the face to every soul who achieved that reward out of a lifetime of merit!"

Kami permitted himself a small smile. I guess he saw victory in the near future. "No, I don't suggest that fate. You are right… Piccolo is by no means worthy of eternal bliss."

At that, Enma seemed to calm down marginally. "What are you getting at?" he sighed.

"Send him to Kaiou-sama."

My eyes bulged so wide it actually hurt. Did he just say…?

"Are you insane?" Enma roared, "Otherworldly training is a reward reserved for only the purest of fighting hearts! You can't try and convince me Piccolo somehow earned the right to such favor by saving one measly life."

This time, Kami remained calm and composed. "We had agreed to send Yamucha, Tenshinhan, and Chaiotzu on Snake Way. True, they are far more worthy than Piccolo… but you know as well as I do the real reason why you sent them."

My curiosity was piqued.

Enma released a long, exhausted sigh. "Fine," he conceded, "Piccolo's fighting prowess greatly dwarfs the Z-Senshi. His added strength will be significant in the coming battle… and with Kai's training, he can really turn the tables."

His gaze then narrowed. "Assuming, of course, that he isn't evil."

Kami grinned. "Of course."

Enma quirked his eyebrow. "And you're sure about this? You're willing to stake everything on this… hunch of yours that he's changed? If he did get Kai's training, and somehow was brought back to the living, he'd have more than enough power to wipe out your solar system."

"I'm willing to take that chance."

Enma sneered slightly, picking up a new stamp. He pressed it into a blue inkpad, and looked around for my record.

Idiot… he flushed when he recalled what had happened to it.

Exasperated, he chucked the stamp over his shoulder, and folded his arms. "Fine," he huffed, "Go to Snake Way. See if I care."

* * *

It took the entire walk from the Check-In station to the tip of Snake Way for me to recover some semblance of coherence.

I stared at the long, winding path that began just a few inches in front of my feet. Then, I turned to my right, and locked my hard eyes with Kami's warm gaze.

I was so puzzled… so overwhelmed by that whole scene with Enma… I could barely see straight.

And rather than show just how flustered I was, I hid it the best way I knew how.

With rage.

"What the hell was all that about?!" I fumed, fists clenched tightly as I glowered at Kami.

To my astonishment, he didn't even flinch at my indignation. "We need you, Piccolo," he revealed, "When you get to Kaiou-sama's planet, you will be properly informed. But make haste… the Saiya-jin were only the tip of the iceberg. An evil exists in our galaxy, with powers so incredible they make Vegeta's ki look like a light bulb."

I cringed at that. I didn't even get to see Vegeta in action… but I was sure he'd put Nappa to shame. And Nappa tore me to pieces.

"Goku will need all the help he can get," Kami continued, "and it would be a great waste for such a fine warrior to rot in Hell during this cataclysmic fight… that may very well determine the fate of the entire northern galaxy."

I went rigid, new concerns filling my mind. What kind of evil could possibly eclipse the Saiya-jin? What are we ultimately dealing with?

But that didn't quite quell the other concerns this whole ordeal churned in me.

I turned away from Kami, my eyes peering out disdainfully at the winding path I had to take.

My mouth went dry, but I managed to speak nonetheless.

"You're wrong about me," I said quietly, trying my best to sound casual.

"Excuse me?"

"You're wrong about me being different," I clarified, "I… remember what my Sire did in his lifetime. And I don't feel anything."

I didn't look at Kami, but I felt his withered hand on my shoulder. "No, you don't. Not yet."

He then followed my gaze, staring out at Snake Way. "Caring is insidious," he commented, "You care about Earth. You care about Gohan. Now that you've proven you have the ability to care, it's only a matter of time until you begin caring about other things. First, perhaps your allies. Eventually, even your former nemesis."

I sneered at that.

"At some point, you'll care for humanity in general. And when that happens, you'll feel pain for the lives Daimao took."

I chewed my lip thoughtfully. I so hated asking Kami questions! It was like I had to rely on him… when I was fully self-sufficient, both in mind and body.

But some things I just didn't know.

"W…" I stammered, struggling against my pride, "W..what does guilt feel like?"

"It freezes you, and burns you at the same time," he answered, "It starts in your mind, as you reflect on the pain you've caused. Then your conscience manages to make you feel that pain."

I frowned deeply. That was something I could live without.

Apparently, Kami seemed to read my train of thought. "It's worth it though. Caring is the seed from which guilt grows. While guilt is bitter, the other fruitages of caring are sweet. Love, for instance."

I growled low. Why does he keep saying that?

He smirked at my discomfort. "It must have felt good… Gohan crying for you?"

I cringed. How did he know that?

"Gohan is a sweet boy," Kami commented, "He cares about everything. But he cares very deeply for you."

Kami was right… for a change. Knowing that Gohan cared for me… seeing his sorrow for the pain I endured for him… I did feel good.

It felt… warm. Soothing.

Right.

And then I realized it… if I had a choice, between the warmth I felt thanks to Gohan, or the joy I'd feel for killing Son… I'd take Gohan.

In a heartbeat.

Funny… come to think of it, killing Goku didn't seem very appealing anymore. It would only make Gohan sad.

I shook my head slightly, freeing my mind from this weird mix of thoughts and… well… feelings.

I cleared my throat, stepping onto Snake Way. "Thanks," I grumbled, before I went on my way.

I'm sure Kami heard me.

And then, as I raced along the paved roadway, I smirked. Damn, those three idiots would sure get a shocker when they see me right behind them!