The 7 Elements of New Namek and its... end?

The Z Warriors were all gathered in some kind of gothic theater, apparently frozen some how by some force in front of a gigantic stage. They had all passed there trials and were now waiting, what for no one new. Suddenly the curtains were pulled and the stage could be seen. A spoht pht pierced the darkness on stage, to reveal a golden throne on the right side of the stage. The throne was partially covered by a black robe, on the seat it self was a pile of bones, and on the side of it was a scythe. Another spotlight pierced the darkness to reveal Akasha herself, standing alone far upstage. The spot light somehow made her seem e bit taller than she really was and was all but enshrined in her voluminous raven black hair. She was dressed in a green common gown with no sleeves and was barefoot.

The shadows of the stage somehow seemed to be moving behind her, and she was at a complete loss, and not a saiyan. She could not see by the light, but all could see her easily. Slowly the bones on the throne began to move and in an instant they connected making a body. The robe fell over the skeletal body covering everything but the feet, as the hood float up covering the area where the skull would have been. The scythe came forward as the bony hand grabbed it at its hilt. As Akasha moved toward the footlights of the stage, she suddenly saw him and came to a halt, making a moan almost like a child. Indeed, she was very much like a child now, though clearly a full grown woman. As she moved back from the stalking death figure the Z Warriors could see tears forming in her eyes like glass in the flickering of the light. Her beauty was heartbreaking.

Suddenly the shadows began to move on their own on. Behind her, a number of painted skulls suddenly moved against the blackness, the figures that carried the masks invisible in their black clothes, except for free white hands that clasped the edge of a cape, the folds of a skirt. Death women were there, moving in with the men towards the victim, and now they all, one by one, thrust the masks away -so they fell in an artful pile, the sticks like bones, the skulls
grinning into the darkness above. And there they stood drawing closer to Akasha, seven deaths, the women deaths three in number, their molded white breasts shining over the tight black bodices of their gowns, their hard luminescent faces staring with dark eyes beneath curls of black hair. Starkly beautiful, as they seemed to float close around that florid human figure, yet pale and cold compared to that sparkling raven jet black hair which haloed Akasha’s frame. It was a spectacle, that circle of white faces pressing closer and closer, and that leading figure, that Gentleman Death, turning to the audience now with his hands crossed over his heart, his head bent in longing to elicit their sympathy: was she not irresistible! A murmur of accenting laughter, of sighs. \" But it was Akasha who broke the magic silence.

“I will not die!” Akasha announced putting herself in a fighting stance.
“We are death! he answered her; and from around her came the whisper, “Death.”

Akasha tossed her hair making it a veritable veil of the night sky, a rich and beautiful thing over the dust off her poor clothing. For the first time in all her existence she was powerless. Somehow she had been turned into a human by the elements and now all she had learned in her travels through the universe was useless. She looked up and for the first time she was able to see without the spotlights blinding her, to see her new family, watching her as she faced the images of death. But why hadn’t they come to save her. Why had jus just stayed there sitting, watching as events unfolded. Akasha looked at each of them, and saw that none of them were moving at all. Nothing but there eyes moved and there faces seemed frozen in a blank expression, like statues.

“Help me!” Akasha cried out softly as if she was afraid to even raise her voice
“I don’t want to die!” Akasha cried out as her delicate voice broke as her eyes now focused on the tall malevolent leader Death who now stepped forward from the circle of the others towards her.
“We all die!” Death began, “the one thing you share with every mortal is death!”
“No!” Akasha protested in disbelief. “I have so many years, so many . . . .\' Her voice was light, lilting in her pain.

It made her irresistible, just as did the movement of her naked throat and the hand that fluttered there.

“Years!\' said Death, “How do you know you have so many years? Death is no respecter of age! There could be a sickness in your body now, already devouring you from within. or, outside, an evil warrior might be waiting to kill you, simply for your power.”

As he spoke these words his fingers reached for her hair, the sound of his deep, preternatural voice was sonorous.

“Need I tell what fate may have in store for you?”
\"I don\'t care . . . I\'m not afraid,\' she protested, her clarion voice so fragile after him. `I would take my chance. . .”
\"And if you do take that chance and live, live for years, what would be your heritage? The humpbacked, toothless visage of old age?”

And now he lifted her hair behind her back, exposing her throat. Slowly he drew the string from the loose gathers of her blouse. The cheap fabric opened, the sleeves slipping off her narrow, pink shoulders; and she clasped it, only to have him take her wrists and thrust them sharply away. The Z Warriors could see the cloth falling, see the pale, flawless skin pulsing with her heart and the tiny nipples letting the cloth slip precariously, Death holding her right wrist tightly at her side, the tears coursing down her blushing cheeks, her teeth biting into the flesh of her lip.

“Just as sure as this flesh is pink, it will turn gray, wrinkled with age,” he said.
\"Let me live, please,” she begged, her face turning away from him.
“I don\'t care . . . I don\'t care.”
\"But then, why should you care if you die now? If these things don\'t frighten you . . . these horrors?” Death replied.

Akasha sorrowfully shook her head baffled, outsmarted, helpless. Piccolo felt the anger in his veins, as sure as the passion. With a bowed head she bore the whole responsibility for defending life, and it was unfair, monstrously unfair that she should have to pit logic against his for what was obvious and sacred and so beautifully embodied in her. But he made her speechless, made her overwhelming instinct seem petty, confused. Piccolo could feel her dying inside, weakening, and Piccolo hated him. The blouse slipped to her waist. A murmur moved through the titillated copies of death as her large, round, supple breasts stood exposed. She struggled to free her wrist, but he held it fast.

“And suppose we were to let you go . . . suppose the Grim Reaper had a heart that could resist your beauty . . . to whom would he turn his passion? Someone must die in your place. Would you pick the person for us? The person to stand here and suffer as you suffer now?\' He gestured to the audience.

Her confusion was terrible.

“Have you a brother . . . a lover... a child?” he said as he quickly gestured to her stomach.

Akasha didn’t even have a chance to answer. The reaper quickly placed his hands over Akasha’s stomach somehow making her baby grow faster, until she finally fell to the floor in labor. The birth was over quickly and when it was over the Grim Reaper held in his arms the son of Akasha and Piccolo. His head was shaped like his mother and was covered in beautiful black hair, just like Akasha. The baby had Piccolo’s antenna and green smooth skin except for the pink parts on Piccolo’s body.

‘NO!” Akasha screamed as she saw the Reaper holding her child.
\"Surely someone could take your place? Choose!\'
\"I can\'t. I wouldn\'t. . .” she said as she writhed in his tight grasp.

The death figures around her looked on, still, their faces evincing no emotion, as if the preternatural flesh were masks they had just thrown down.

“Can\'t you do it?” he taunted her.

Piccolo knew, if she said she could, how he would only condemn her, say she was as evil as he for marking someone for death, say that she deserved her fate.

\"Death waits for you everywhere,” he sighed now as if he were suddenly frustrated.

The Z Warriors could not perceive it. He was trying to keep her green eyes on his eyes, but she looked desperately, hopefully away from him. On the warm, rising air Piccolo could smell the dust and perfume of her skin, hear the soft beating of her heart.

“Unconscious death . . . is the fate of all mortals,” he declared.

He bent closer to her, musing, infatuated with her, but struggling.

“Hmmm. . . . but we are conscious death! That would make you a bride. Do you know what it means to be loved by Death?” he said as he all but kissed her face, and the brilliant stain of her tears.

“Do you know what it means to have Death know your name?”

Akasha looked into the eyes of her child to see in its emerald eyes her own reflection staring back at her. She then looked into the skull that spoke from under the hood with fierce anger. She had no choice but to submit, to save her family, and her new born son. She looked at him, overcome with fear. And then her eyes seemed to mist over, her lips to go slack. She was staring at him at the figure as a face suddenly appeared, under his hood, replacing the skull slowly from the shadows. He appeared to be nothing but an adolescent boy. His hair was long and straight, the color of auburn. His attitude was not the attitude of hunger. He did not appear rapt. But she was looking into his eyes row, and her pain bathed her in a beauteous light, a light which made her irresistibly alluring. It was him that held the jaded audience, in this terrible pain. Piccolo could feel her skin, feel the small, pointed breasts, feel my arms caressing her. Piccolo tried to shut his eyes against it but saw her starkly against that private darkness. It was what they felt all around her, this community of death. She had no chance. And, looking up again, Piccolo saw her shimmering in the smoky light of the foot lamps, saw her tears fall like gold. The Reaper the took the baby and placed him on his throne. He then took Akasha and pulled her center stage in clear view of the Z warriors. The Death figures surrounded them on both sides in wait of what would soon come to pass. The Reaper held Akasha arms up as if they were here wings and whispered to her:

“No pain . . .”

He then slid her skirt down revealing her entire body. Taking her in his arms he kissed her cheek and began tve tve to her neck. Akasha let out a soft moan as his fangs pierced her skin and entered the vein there. Soon as the life was drained out of her, her body went limp. The Reaper lifted her body over his head and handed her to the other death figures surrounding them. They placed her on the floor and began to devour her body. Soon nothing could be seen of her through the living black robes that consumed her. When the shadows stepped back finally, all that was left of Akasha was her skeleton. The shadows had vanished and all that was left The Reaper. He took off his robe suddenly to reveal his own naked body. The robe fell to the stage floor as he walked forward into the light. The light began to burn him as smoke began to rise from his skin. His body was engulfed by flames as he merely stood there in the light. His body became nothing but ashes. When the Reaper was a complete pile of ashes Calisto and Demona came out from the shadows of the curtains. They both carried with them the dragon balls and crystals they had collected through there journey, and they came forward and stood besides the skeleton. Suddenly a breeze arose from nowhere, taking the ashes into a small cyclone. They gently scattered over the skeleton Akasha in a small circle. The bloody skeleton began to lightly glow and so did the crystals. A blinding light came from the skeleton, and then from the crystals. Together there glow became more and more radiant. Themenements let go of the crystals as they took to the air on their own and floated above the skeleton. The skeleton then began to float with the crystal and soon nothing could be seen of them except for a large ball light. The radiance from the light somehow released the Z Warriors from their paralysis. Piccolo called out for Akasha as he covered his eyes, to keep from being blinded. Suddenly, a figure could be seen from the light as Calisto and Demona were absorbed into the light. When the light finally subsided, the figure could be clearly seen. Akasha was there floating in the air but now . . . she nod bed beautiful angel wings, with all the colors of the rainbow and theye eme emitting a low beautiful glow. Akasha was now dressed in new shining armor. It was silver and gold with a beautiful design. Her left arm was covered in a ebony leather sleeve with more design patterns on it. Her right arm was bare except for a beautiful dragon armband made out of silver with ruby eyes. She had a gold and silver breast plate, on the right of it was picture of a crouching tiger, on the left another dragon. The design showed the tiger and dragon facing each other as if in battle. Her pants were tight black leather and her boots were black and tall running up almost half way to her knees, with her sword in a sheath behind her back.. She turned around and picked up her baby who in all this time had not cried at all. As soon as she picked him up in her arms his body began to glow. Immediately from his back he grew a pair of wings that looked exactly like Akasha’s pair. Piccolo came on stage along with the others behind him, but no one knew what to say. Finally Akasha broke the silence.

“He’s so beautiful! Piccolo do you want to hold your son?” Akasha asked playfully.

Piccolo reached out for him and took the baby in his arms. The baby seemed to smile as he looked at Piccolo. Piccolo’s heart warmed as he saw the happy expression on his son’s face. Piccolo took off his cape and wrapped his son in it. Akasha reached for him and Piccolo gave him back to his mother.

“Everyone hurry and come closer.” Akasha announced.

The Z warriors gathered around her in circle as Akasha had asked. She stretched out her wings and the glow from them increased. The rays of light from her wings cover all of the Z Warriors completely. They all felt a surge of power flowing through them as they let the light absorb them. When the light faded away they all saw themselves with wings of their own. Goku’s wings were sky blue, Vegeta’s were jet black, Tien’s wings were yellow, Krillin’s wings were red, Goten’s dark blue, Trunks’s wings were purple, and Piccolo’s wings were a shiny green.

“Wow guys now we all have wings!” Krillin declared.
“This is great!” Goku responded.

The warriors were amazed as they continued to look at themselves with their new wings.

“You now have new powers and even greater strength. As long as I am alive these new powers will continue to flow inside of you and u will be bale to access them at anytime you wish.” Akasha stated.

They all looked now at the dragon balls on the floor behind the. The six of them were all bunched together neatly. Calisto and Demona were gone just like the other elements before them.

“Come on you Guys we should get back to the ship.” Akasha said.
“But how are we going to get back from here?” Krillin asked.

Akasha then pulled out her sword and pointed it in the air. A bolt of lighting came out of the sword and struck the air above them opening a portal.

“We’ll go through here.” Akasha answered.

They all jumped through the portal and arrived in the grand hall of the castle of Calisto and Demona. They left the castle and went back to the ship to prepare for the coming battle. . .