Passing The Torch

*Blue slid a hand atop his daughter's forehead, and then his son's. He began to emanate wispy blue smoke that covered the room in a haze...or did he? Was it even real? For the two, the scene would shift, each of them introduced to a different dreamscape respectively.

For Kale:

A saiyan warrior stood, locked into battle, straight-backed and ever-importantly, proud. His son carried hope. He hadn't been born as powerful or physically strong as his sister, but he perservered through obstacles, scraped by on the skin of his teeth. But if there was anything that may be his Achilles', it was that he lacked something all saiyans were genetically predispositioned to carry, something that was both so ignorant and so admirable the only thing Blue'd could ever say was 'Fucking Saiyans'...

Pride.

He couldn't force pride into his son, couldn't beat it into him. There wasn't a way to impart it. It was something everyone had and, in his mind, his son just -didn't-. Blue couldn't spontaneously will a fire in Kale's heart, but hopefully, this would be the spark that'd ignite pride in him at last.

Features became discernible on the now dying Saiyan.

Unlike in the reality, there was no mask, there was only Saul; Saul who refused to yield in the face of the insurmountable onslaught of the Cardinals, mercilessly shredded to pieces by blasts of fire and explosions triggered by will, shot in the head by Alyda's gun and still....fucking...standing. In the dream he'd given his son, the saiyan would turn to Kale, as if looking at him directly, all else paused aside from the motion of his lips and the words that'd echo through his son's mind.

"What the fuck is fear?"

And then time would resume, hope to survive seeming lost..when yellow electricity crackled into existence, empowering Saul with a second wind, a burst that could split the sea from the depths of the ocean, a flash that ended the dream for Kale as it went rocketing into his son's face, splitting the ground in it's wake as all ended...

In a Final Flash.

For Azuki:

She knew nothing but punch. She'd never hesitated, he didn't know if his daughter knew what fear -was-. She was like her mother in that regard, perhaps. Strength had come naturally to her, as had power. The beginnings of pride were obvious, blatantly so.

But as Kale had neglected his saiyan half, so had she her human.

For Azuki there was a different dream, another circumstance, another world and a different face. There was a man fighting valiantly against the darkness, a lone figure who struck when the odds were against him and he had -everything- to lose. Atop his forehead was a tattered headband, hanging together by what appeared to be a fucking -miracle.- It was a mere piece of cloth but it looked to have spirit to match the wearer's.

The shadow over the face lifted and the handsome features of a roguish tsufurujin grinned at Azuki in the dark, before he flashed her a thumbs up.

There was something...-wolfish- about him.

"Never give up hope."

He was surrounded by knives, an insurmountable assault he couldn't -possibly- hope to evade, time frozen as it was. There was simply nothing to do...but keel over and die.

Ajax defied that.

Impossibly skilled, able to move even in Toren's world, he batted aside knives, allowed a few to sink into him, but he never stopped his defiance. The knives sunk into his flesh, the knives cut and tore at him, but he wouldn't go down, and when the dust settled and time resumed, Ajax was staring directly at Azuki as Saul had Kale. A legend lived again if only in his daughter's dreams...

Good men must die, but death cannot kill their names.

Banishing the darkness, Ajax charged at Azuki while grasping the sun. That wolfish grin would be the last thing she saw before he struck, ending the dream with a -howl-, screaming his technique's name in a silence that'd previously been deafening, so it could reverberate through her head, so she'd -damn- well remember.

Wolf Fang Fist.

Blue had been the living legacy of Saul and Ajax both. The time had come for the torch to be passed.

If he were visibly upset at having to relive the deaths of what'd been his dearest friends, it didn't show. He just offered a sad smile to both of his children before falling back, and onto the ground, collapsing. It was time he dreamt his own dreams, before he readied himself for what may be his final battle.

Ajax, Luca, Saul, Jumpy..he was coming.

He was coming. *