Piccolo was alone. Far more alone then he could ever remember. The wind rustled around him, stirring up what little remains of the man he had unintentionally killed and sending them flying to far away places. At that moment, Piccolo wished the ashes were his. At least then, he wouldn’t have to worry about harming anyone else. And whatever tortures and manifestations hell could take would be far less then what he was going through now.

He stared at his hands… they could kill others, perhaps he could use them to kill himself. He raised a hand to his forehead and concentrated, in hopes of calling up his Makkankosappo. The ki, a warm, unforgiving light, began to build around his fingertips, starting as a tiny spark, accompanied by a sound not unlike that of an electrical charge building up into overload. It grew hotter and hotter until Piccolo knew that his attack was ready. He refused to move his hand from his forehead, however, content in the knowledge that if this succeeded, he would essentially be blowing his own head off.

Problem was, his body refused to respond, as he realized he was shaking. It was maddening! He had been dead before, had no fear of the afterlife… why would he hesitate! It would be the best thing for the world, and it would prevent the deaths that were bound to come if he permitted himself to live…

The ki built up towards a critical mass, and screaming at his inability to do what he knew… no, felt, had to be done, he tore his hand away from his forehead.

A moment later, the Makkankosappo erupted from his hand in a brilliant display of purple and golden yellow energy, the scintillating blast seeming to drive the light around Piccolo away, bringing a shadow over him, much like he felt on the inside. The blast exploded into the cliff above him, covering him with the prickly hail of tiny shards of rock, and he involuntarily raised an arm to protect his eyes, shuddering. If he had had his way, he would’ve been blinded. That was when the voice, tauntingly sinister in it’s tone despite being limited to residing in his mind, returned.

"Oh, no you don’t. I’m not going to let you throw yourself off this mortal coil and defeat my plans that way. For now, revel in the delight that you’re continuing to lose your mind and can’t do anything to stop it… "

Piccolo fell to the ground, screaming, holding his head in both hands.

"GET OUUUUT!" That was when, Piccolo, clinging to the last vestiges of his sanity, did something he never would have done under any circumstances. His voice was weak, his spirit crushed, the will to fight ever continuing to slip away, the darkness claiming him, whatever or whoever it was, threatening to lay the final nail in the coffin that contained his mind and hammer it down.

"Please… leave me… I don’t… want to fight you… anymore…" Piccolo gasped, whatever pride he may have once had being thrown to the dogs of time.

Piccolo’s eyes widened in surprise, but before he could do anything else, he felt a wave of darkness pass over him, in a bizarre combination of drowsiness and weakness. A moment later he thumped to the ground, unconscious.

From afar, two all-knowing eyes had been watching Piccolo. The owner of these eyes frowned from within the craggy green features of his face, as behind him, staring out into the infinite blueness of the heavens, stood his black skinned, turban clad servant.

Kami, the god of earth, relaxed his two hands from his staff as the glazed look in his eyes returned to normal. He smiled slightly, although it was no time to acknowledge a victory, as he turned back to look at Mr. Popo, who had been staring only moments before.

"So you’ve done it, Kami-sama?" Popo asked, a forlorn tone in his voice. The old Nameksei-jin nodded, his antennae bobbing just slightly up and down. Popo gulped. "Are you sure you won’t reconsider, lord? Surely there is another way…"

Kami shook his head.

"Haven’t you felt it, Popo-san?" Kami asked sternly, looking back over the edge at the slumbering Piccolo, who rested on the Earth far below.

Popo, surprisingly, nodded. "Your counterpart is losing his mind. Could it be as we’ve often suspected? Could the evil in him be resurfacing, with or without his consent?"

Kami shook his head, leaning hard on his staff as he was mentally preparing himself for what had to be done. "No, I don’t believe it’s that… his heart was almost completely devoid of evil, he was changing… I don’t see how he could have such a resurgence of evil. I’ve seen this before, long ago… don’t you remember? When there was that problem Enma-sama had with the gates of hell… The spirits themselves were escaping and entering people’s minds and souls… of course, since they had no mental resistance, they succumbed easily… Enma couldn’t help, he was far too busy trying to keep the gates closed… it was before they had been intelligent enough to have his workers actually in the underworld keeping a close eye on the spirits… We had quite a time entering the minds of those humans and driving the spirits out, but fortunately there hadn’t been anyone really powerful… It was my first real crisis as Kami, remember?"

Popo nodded solemnly, still not quite sure what Kami was getting at, when it hit him. "I see, sir. But what does this have to do with Piccolo?" Kami shrugged.

"I don’t know, Mr. Popo. But I would suspect that somehow, a soul has escaped from hell and is trying to control him. I don’t know why they would have chosen him… he’s far stronger mentally then Son Gohan and the otheres are… It is very perplexing. Whoever this person is, I’m going to confront him in Piccolo’s mind… it may be the only chance he has."

Popo gulped. "But Kami-sama, what happens if you fail?" Kami smiled sadly at Mr. Popo.

"I can foresee two things happening. The first, if the shock of being defeated in Piccolo’s mind is of sufficient strength, it will kill me." Popo’s jaw dropped as a huge sweatdrop appeared on his forehead.

"Kami, no! Please, don’t go! I don’t want to see you hurt, or… or…" Popo closed his mouth, not bearing to think about what it would be like to lose his master again. Kami smiled.

"The other option, and this is the one I fear most, is that I will fail but remain alive. Any mental contest that I would lose would undoubtedly put me in a coma for several weeks, at the very least, and possibly forever, and if that happens, there will be no one to stop Piccolo… One way or the other, Piccolo must be stopped. Remember that."

"Ohhhhh Kami… I don’t think I could do… that…" Popo stammered, trying to drive the horrible thought out of his mind. Kami put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, smiling down at him for what might be the last time.

"Be strong, Mr. Popo. Remember that however things turn out, I’d do what I feel is best for Chikyuu-sei. If Piccolo loses control and is threatening the Earth, then you know what you have to do or have done… promise me you will. I swear I won’t hold a grudge." Popo sniffled, and a tear rolled down his cheek.

"I… don’t know if I can… but… I will try… for you, Kami… Please don’t die." Kami stared at Popo another moment, then turned away, his cape fluttering in the sparse wind that surrounded the Tenkai. He turned to glance over his shoulder.

"Take care if I don’t see you again, Mr. Popo. I’ve never had a truer friend." With that statement done, even as Mr. Popo watched, Kami focused his vision on the slumbering Piccolo. A moment later, he was there, but he wasn’t there, as his eyes were once again glazed over.

Kami-sama, Piccolo’s good half, and the god of Earth, was gone, yet not gone. His body continued to reside on the edge of the Lookout, locked in a trance, staring at the slumbering Piccolo.

But his mind and spirit had gone to war, leaving Popo behind, with the short man on his knees, praying for his trusted friend’s safe return.

Lightning crackled around him, but there were no storm clouds overhead, only a dizzying vortex of every color on the spectrum in a constantly changing pattern. Kami stared up at the vortex for a moment, then down at the large shard of rock he was standing on. Around him were several larger rocks, including a central one below him, spanning what seemed to only be twenty meters but could easily be twenty million meters within the confines of the mind.

Kami stared up at the vortex that was all around the rocks one more time. He frowned. He did not like what was before his eyes, even as the brightness of the lightning illuminated the area further, as he cupped a single hand to his chin. His other hung at his side, and his traditional staff was curiously absent. He didn’t need it here. He had already learned quite a bit about Piccolo’s state of mind by observing him for the past two weeks, and this had confirmed it.

A normal person, that is to say, one whose mind, body, and soul were in perfect sync or even a little skewed would have, for the most part, a perfect island. There wouldn’t be shards here and there, instead, the land would be complete, with few broken parts. There were few people who were perfect in every way mentally, but Piccolo’s psyche seemed to be the worst he had ever seen, or felt, since what he was doing still couldn’t quite be classified as seeing.

"Definitely someone or something trying to take over his mind. There’s no possible way his mind could be so fragmented otherwise." Kami looked up at the vortex again. It continued battling itself in its perplexing, indiscernible array of colors and patterns. It was, quite simply chaos, and that worried Kami even more then the shattered psyche did. For each emotion, there were corresponding colors and patterns, different in every person, but fairly easy to pick out if one knew what to feel for. That Piccolo’s emotions could be this horrible, especially considering the fact that Piccolo was now asleep showed that he was truly in trouble. Kami allowed himself a small smile, though, very small indeed. At least it meant that Piccolo was still fighting. Knowing his counterpart as well as he did, he knew that Piccolo wouldn’t have had it any other way, but the signs were also crystal clear in another way… Piccolo was definitely losing to whatever was trying to take control of him.

He frowned again, surveying his hands. The wizened hands of nearly five-hundred years were gone, replaced by the green smoothness of a Nameksei-jin in his prime. He allowed himself a small smirk not unlike that of Piccolo.

Mentally steeling himself for the challenge he knew was ahead, Kami put his hands at his sides and stared down at the island. It was most likely that Piccolo, and whoever was attempting to take control, could be found down there. He leapt downwards towards the island, as it slowly began to grow in size under his vision as he descended, leaving the shard of rock that had been the temporary home for his mental projection behind, determined to render aid to his counterpart.

Everywhere Kami went, he saw devastation. A massive split in the land here, a crack that allowed seemingly red-hot lava to seep from the land there. He had been walking for what seemed like hours, although in the physical world, it could easily be that Mr. Popo had only blinked once or twice, as mere seconds could have passed. However, time, like Piccolo’s mind, was chaotic, and Kami also knew that several hours could have passed. He shook his head, clearing his mind of distractions.

That was when he heard a howl of pain, that seemed to reverberate throughout the entire world, or at least, his world. A moment later, the ground beneath his feet cracked wide open, and Kami dived aside as the fissure widened. Finally, the howl stopped, and the world returned to normal. Kami shuddered.

He leapt into the air, trying to get a better view, using his ki to propel himself along the ground. A moment later, Kami’s brow furrowed, as he gasped at what his keen eyesight saw ahead. A clear pool, sparkling in the distance. But that wasn’t all. Tied to a stake in the middle of the pool was a howling Piccolo, or rather, Piccolo’s mental projection and image of himself. And it was a mess. The Nameksei-jin’s mind was quite obviously, still alive, since it couldn’t exactly be killed, but Kami could easily see why his counterpart’s resolve had been waning.

Kami knew it was a mental image, and was in reality only Piccolo’s defense. He was here, whoever else might be trying to occupy his mind was here, but the Piccolo Kami had sighted, though looking identical to the original, was only Piccolo’s finely honed mental defenses, the kind that everyone had. When those defenses broke down or were destroyed, then there was nothing stopping the possessing company. Indeed, if Kami had not already witnessed atrocities even more hideous then the physical state Piccolo’s defense was in, he may have collapsed at the sheer horror of the condition right there.

Dark streaks of purple laced Piccolo’s face and upper body, as the top of his gi had long been shorn off by whatever force had inflicted the injury upon him. One arm was hanging limp against the stake, apparently broken in several places, including one where the bone had actually broken the skin, leaving a faint trail of blood continuing to drip down his arm with a sickening, continuing plip-plop into the water. His other arm had been so badly burned that it was charred black, and noticeably smaller. Kami noticed that Piccolo had been staring at him, and gasped in shock as he realized the reason the Nameksei-jin hadn’t acknowledged his presence, even with a scream, a nod of the head, a glare, anything. The fire was gone from his eyes, quite simply, because there were no eyes left. Kami could only see the purple of two bloodshot Nameksei-jin eyes; the pupils were nowhere to be seen. Kami was surprised that the Nameksei-jin had any kind of resolve left, when he noticed something else. Slowly but surely, the stake was sinking into the water, and Piccolo was obviously not going to break free without help.

Crackling with energy, Kami charged towards the stake as fast as he possibly could, eyes ablaze with the intent to save his counterpart from further harm. He was younger, felt younger as a mental projection, and he had always been far stronger mentally then physically, even in his prime.

As Kami hovered near the stake, Piccolo went insane, jolting from whatever trance he had been in and glancing rapidly around, screaming; though whether in pain or surprise, Kami had no way to tell.

"Relax! I’m here to save you!" Kami intoned, hoping that the Piccolo wasn’t so far gone that he would understand what he was saying. Piccolo whipped his head around to stare at Kami with one clouded eye. A moment later, he screamed again, face wild with horror as he struggled against his bonds so hard that his wrists and legs began to bleed again. That was when he started spouting what seemed to be gibberish to Kami. When in this state of mental stress, virtually everything that might be said should be taken with a grain of salt.

"Awaaaaaaaaaay! Back, stay!" He shrieked, shaking his head rapidly. "Torture! Pain! No more no more no more!" Kami raised his hands, adopting a neutral expression.

"I’m here to free you, not to hurt you…" At the sound of Kami’s voice, Piccolo screamed again, as if perhaps his scream could banish this new tormenter away.

"Lies! Betrayer and you! Won’t… let win…" That was when Kami reached out and snapped the bonds that tied Piccolo to the stake, as the Nameksei-jin tumbled into the water, shrieking at the pain as the salt water penetrated dozens of wounds. Cursing to himself, Kami quickly reached his hand in and pulled the weakened Piccolo out.

He flew, supporting the screaming and struggling Piccolo, to the lake’s bank, easing him to the ground, even as he shrieked once again and thrashed wildly. Kami grabbed the terrified Nameksei-jin, steadying him, and staring into his good eye, deliberately speaking harshly and slowly, the way a grown-up might to an unresponsive child.

"Listen! I am not the enemy! I am here to help you!" Piccolo stared at Kami for a moment, and for a fleeting second, seemed to maintain some semblance of sanity. At the very least, he stopped struggling for the moment. Though physicality was still quite absent, healing and recovery could still be simulated on this mental world, as Kami glanced around, finally spying what could only be a small, freshwater pond a scant thirty or so meters away. It had opened up a moment ago, and though it perplexed Kami, he knew that it could very well have been Piccolo’s mind’s way of reacting to his rescue of his defense. He glanced down at Piccolo again.

"Rest here a moment, I’m going to get you some water, okay?" Kami asked. Piccolo’s only response was to shudder, perhaps from his wounds, or perhaps in terror, but he nodded slowly. Kami smiled slightly, since it seemed he might actually be getting through after all. He dashed to the pond and stared down into it, admiring his reflection for a moment, astonishment on his face at the recognition of it. It had been so long since he had seen what he looked like when young… He reached a hand up to scratch an antenna, and the reflection did the same, sparkling. Kami smiled a moment, marveling as his reflection did the same, of course, since after all, it was his reflection. A moment later his eyes widened in shock as a grin spread across the reflection’s face.

"I’m not in the real world! There isn’t any reflection he-" Before Kami could finish this thought, a dark blur burst out of the pool and uppercutted him across the jaw, sending him flying into the air. But he was not an old man in this world, and quickly regained his balance, floating in the air and staring at his adversary in shock, as his foe grinned at him cunningly.

The reason for his shock was readily apparent. The reflection in the lake had not been some kind of bizarre, mentally induced illusion. He was fighting himself, and yet… Something about the face, the symbol on the clothing, the-

Piccolo shrieked, kicking up a cloud of dust as he tried to shrink away from the two of them, crawling away on broken arms and legs, moaning, "Get away from me! No more! No more!"

Kami’s counterpart turned briefly and stared at him, grinning cruelly. He was about to speak when Kami charged into him, cracking him hard in the jaw with his elbow, catching him off-guard as he hurtled towards the ground. He quickly regained his balance, somersaulting in mid-air and landing cleanly on his feet, raising his hand to hurl a ki blast in one fluid motion. Kami met it head-on with a ki blast of his own, and the battle for Piccolo’s mind was on.

Out of the smoke, three more rapid ki blasts lanced out towards Kami, and he evaded, spreading his legs as one passed harmlessly under him, flying to the right to dodge the second, and crouching in mid-air as one just barely missed where his right eye had been a second earlier. He sensed his opponent’s ki sudden appear directly behind him instead of in front of him, and brought his arm over his shoulder, rocking with the blow as his doppelganger’s fist smashed into his wrist instead of his head. Kami then spun around with a powerful kick, cracking the doppelganger in the face, sending a stream of blood flying into the air and delivering his foe back to the ground, nose broken.

Kami allowed himself a small grin.

"You haven’t been practicing, have you?"

The doppelganger leered at him, voice cruel and ringed with displeasure. "Where I come from, practicing is not readily in abundance."

Kami changed his expression to a stern one as he glanced at Piccolo, who had continued to cower away during the entire fight. "I can’t believe you would do such horrible things to your own son."

That was when the doppelganger exploded in rage, flying up to Kami with blinding speed and smashing him hard in the gut before bringing both hands down across Kami’s back, sending him to the ground with a dull thud. The doppelganger’s eyes sparkled with rage, even as Kami calmly rose to his feet.

"He is not my son! He doesn’t even deserve to carry my name! He’s weak, like you!"

Kami stood unwavering, before smiling slightly.

"Perhaps it is you who is the weak one." The doppelganger stared in shock as a moment later, Kami faded out of existence. He surveyed the area rapidly.

"Where did h- OOF!" The grunt had come because Kami had smashed both hands into the back of his counterpart’s head, sending him hurtling back to the landscape. He tried to jump to his feet, but before he could, Kami was upon him, pinning him to the ground and raising one hand above his head for a killing blow.

"I don’t know how your soul escaped from hell, but regardless, I will banish you back there. You’re not going to be tormenting him any longer!"

The doppelganger smiled through blood-streaked teeth.

"Torment? Oh, believe me, it pains me to do this, even to such a weakling that doesn’t deserve to be called my son. But it’s the only way for us to be free. When I am reborn, I will destroy the people of this planet you love. I will have revenge. And you won’t be able to stop me."

Kami glared at him.

"You’re delusional. Your twisted plan, whatever it may be, ends here and NOW!" Upon the final word, Kami raised his hand further, but before he could bring it down, a vise of iron gripped his wrist as a deep, clipped, and respectful voice lingered in his ears.

"I am truly sorry I must do this, for I respect any member of my race. But you didn’t leave me any other choice." Kami spun around, eyes widening in shock.

"What?! You?!" He exclaimed in surprise. He didn’t have time to say anything else, as the person holding his wrist punched him hard in the face before snapping his wrist with an awful twist, even as Kami choked on his pain. The pain that followed was much worse, as this new opponent tossed him up into the air, batting him around with a series of brutal, perfectly timed kicks before sending him flying over the lake. But Kami wasn’t going to land in the water, which would be too simple to warrant such a barrage of timely attacks.

He was going to land directly on the stake. The pain that followed was excruciating, as he actually saw and felt the stake pierce his back and explode into his line of sight, streaked with purple blood as it exited his abdomen. He coughed up blood and stared at his opponent, vision already beginning to fade.  Even at that, he realized that not all of what Piccolo had been saying had been gibberish when he had freed him. 

"Betrayer..."

"W… why…?" Kami gasped. A moment before his vision swirled into nothingness, he could have sworn he had seen a single tear roll down his opponent’s cheek.

In the physical world, Mr. Popo was horrified to see Kami gasp, clutch his head, and then topple off the edge of the Lookout, unconscious.

"KAMI-SAMA! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" He screamed, hopping onto his magic carpet and speeding through the air after his master, the only person in the world that actually mattered to him.

He grabbed Kami’s wrist mere moments before the Nameksei-jin would have smashed into the ground, narrowly preventing disaster. Popo grabbed his master’s wrist, trying to check for his pulse, and was gratified slightly when he felt a very faint one. He quickly checked his master’s body for wounds, unable to find any, when it hit him, and the thought worried him far more then any physical wound would have.

"He lost…" Popo knew what the results were to losing in mental combat. Even if you did survive, it was very likely that you would never wake up. He choked on a tear, gazing up at the sky even as his carpet returned the two of them to the top of the Lookout.

"Kami-sama…" He gasped, praying to see the fluttering of an eyelid, anything to prove to him that his mentor’s mind was still there. He choked again, then fell to his knees before glancing up at the sky and cursing whatever fate had allowed this to transpire.

"KAMI-SAAAAAMMMMAAAAAAAAAA!"