Rage/Sadness Part two
The boy twisted in his sleep.
Beads of sweat clung to his forehead. His small frame shifted violently beneath his sheets, a cold chill rattling through his bones despite the warmth of the lab's internal temperature.
Mori was dreaming again.
And it was never peaceful.
In the void of space, surrounded by stars and silence, Mori was suspended—his feet dangling off invisible threads.
Something held his arm.
A hand. Warm, smooth, and terrifyingly gentle.
Mori slowly turned his head and stared into the face of madness.
Kid Buu.
The pink being grinned down at him, mouth stretched wide like a crescent wound. His blank white eyes stared ahead with joyless malice. In his free hand, Buu raised a single finger, and without hesitation, fired a blast of ki at a distant planet.
Boom.
It vanished. Dust. Ash. Silence.
The next one followed.
Boom.
Then another.
And another.
Mori's wide eyes welled up with tears as he struggled in Buu's grasp. "Stop… please!" he cried, his voice breaking. "Why are you doing this?!"
But Buu only laughed—a shrill, high-pitched, giddy laugh that echoed through the void like a melody of death.
Then, in a blink, the stars were gone.
They were standing inside the lab.
The only home Mori had ever known.
Clean white walls. The faint hum of technology. Flickering blue lights from monitors long since powered down for the night.
But it was empty. Still.
Mori's breath caught in his throat.
He looked up at Buu—eyes pleading, terrified.
"Please," he whispered, trembling. "Don't do it…"
The pink creature tilted his head.
And smiled even wider.
Then he raised his hand.
A blinding flash.
The lab exploded. Walls shattered into dust. Steel crumpled like paper. The explosion spread in all directions—fire, ash, screams that didn't exist except in Mori's own head.
He fell to his knees in the dream.
Buu stepped forward.
And slowly, ever so slowly, pressed a hand against Mori's face.
Mori's eyes snapped open.
The air around him was dense—his chest tight, his heart pounding.
Then came the surge.
His ki flared violently, exploding out from his body in a chaotic wave of pink energy. It tore through the room like a hurricane of fury. Pillars twisted and imploded, metal shrunk into tiny spheres, walls bent inward before cracking like glass.
Lights shattered.
Machinery crumbled.
And Mori—still lying in bed—was surrounded by pure, uncontrollable power.
His eyes were no longer his.
They had turned pitch black, irises glowing blood red.
The same eyes as Buu.
His pink aura howled with energy, lashing out in waves as if it were alive—breaking, crushing, dismantling every inch of his room and the halls beyond it.
Alarms rang.
Emergency systems triggered.
Screams echoed from deeper within the lab.
And yet Mori stayed motionless, trapped somewhere between waking and nightmare.
Then a voice broke through the chaos.
"Mori!"
The scream came from the far end of the corridor—desperate, panicked.
Noen.
She stumbled through the bending hallways, shielding herself from the volatile storm of ki. Her eyes locked onto Mori's glowing form as she reached toward him.
"It's okay!" she shouted, inching closer. "You're okay, Mori! You're safe—just breathe!"
Her words fought against the energy, her presence just barely reaching through the madness.
Mori's head twitched. His breath hitched.
For a moment… just a moment… the storm began to ease.
His aura flickered.
His blackened eyes began to clear.
Then—another flash of memory.
Kid Buu's grin.
His laughter.
His hand on Mori's face.
The destruction.
And—
BOOM.
Mori's ki erupted again, far worse than before.
An earth-shattering pulse exploded outward, vaporizing everything it touched. The lab caved inward, walls turning to dust. Consoles shattered into sparks.
The screaming stopped.
The alarms died.
And the pink light swallowed it all.
Silence.
Then—
A soft groan.
Mori opened his eyes again, properly this time. He was lying in the center of the now ruined lab, surrounded by bent metal, scorched floors, and drifting smoke.
Nothing was left intact.
Except him.
And one other.
Across the room, leaning against a fractured wall, stood the last surviving scientist. He was breathing heavily, blood trailing down his temple. His eyes—wide. Terrified.
Mori stood slowly, his knees shaking.
He looked around at the destruction, the fire, the smoke.
"D… did I… do this?" he asked, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.
The man didn't answer.
Mori took a step toward him.
The scientist backed away instantly, hand raised as if to protect himself. "Don't—stay back!"
Mori's lip trembled. "I didn't mean to…"
"You're a monster," the scientist snapped, his voice cracking. "A mistake. A… creature. You should never have been born!"
Mori froze.
The words hit like a ki blast to the heart.
His shoulders slumped. His hands shook.
And slowly, tears welled up in his eyes.
He turned.
And ran.
The station doors burst open, and the boy flew out into the world beyond—feet barely touching the ground.
He didn't know where he was going. Didn't care.
He just needed to go.
His body reacted before his mind did—lifting off the ground. His aura surged again, but not violently this time. It carried him up, higher and higher, until the ruined lab was a speck behind him.
Then—he landed.
A massive hilltop, quiet and peaceful. He had named this place years ago when he first flew here with Noen.
Big Sleepy.
Here, the wind was soft. The skies open. The stars twinkled above, unaware of the pain below.
Mori stood there, eyes still leaking tears.
The vision of Buu still fresh.
The scientist's fear.
The word monster echoing in his skull.
He sank to his knees.
His hands clenched into the dirt.
He tried to hold it in.
Tried to be strong.
But the pain was too heavy.
And so, he screamed.
A scream of heartbreak.
Of confusion.
Of unbearable sadness.
One final scream.
One final shift.
The youngest shift.
The most angry.
The ULTIMATE shift screamed in pain and rage.