Cell Games Finale Chapter Four:
Two Down, Two to Go! Cell Dominates!


"Power level reading for Goku... Undetectable."

Bulma's eyes turned to saucers and she gasped. She jolted suddenly, remembering that Papaya news was currently filming the Cell Games live. She tore for the TV on the right of the lab control panel and turned it on.
Both Bulma and Dr. Briefs gaped as the TV powered on to the view of what must be an earthquake. The camera shook violently and swayed back and forth at high speed, showing nothing but a blur of brown and blue. When Mr. Satan's voice appeared, they both swore.

"Don't worry, News Anchor dude, I'll take care of King Piccolo!" The camera suddenly zoomed in on Piccolo's forehead, then down to the Namekian's knees, then back up, zoomed even further to Piccolo's nose. The news anchorman couldn't help but utter a moan that was more for Hercule's distracted and shoddy camera work than for any dread about Piccolo.
"Mr. Satan, sir, can you-"
"What?"
"Mr. Satan I wonder if you could-"
"Huh? What do you need again, Anchor dude?"
There was a horrible, eardrum blasting scratching sound as the camera panned down and Hercule refitted the headphones and mic that were four sizes too small for his head.
"Mr. Satan, I was wondering, for the benefit of the viewers, could you use the camera to cover some of the fighting between Cell and Goku before you continue your mission?" the anchors tone was pleading, frustrated.
"Oh... OH, right, sure, Anchor dude! I'm sure my fans want to see a bit of these losers playing Star Wars before I get to the real fighting!"
The camera view took a gut-churning up swing into the blinding sun, then panned down and focused in on a series of blue and green blurs in the midst of a pale, sparkly yellow glow.
---

Cell caught Vegeta's fist on a poorly placed punch. Unphased, Vegeta hurled his other fist at Cell's face. Cell had crossed his arms to catch Vegeta's fists on the opposite side, but now Cell pulled hard, reversing the position so that he had crossed Vegeta's arms in front of his face. Cell bent his own elbows and heaved up, intending to break the Saiyan's arms at the elbow. However, Cell had gotten too used to fighting Goku, who was a completely different kind of Super Saiyan than Vegeta. Vegeta was currently past the level of a mere Super Saiyan. Physically, Vegeta wasn't just stronger than Goku, he was stronger than Cell. The Ascended Saiyan grinned at Cell and suddenly ripped his arms clean free of Cell's grip in mid-maneuver, and wrapped his gloved hands around Cell's throat.
"I'll rip your damn head off!" Vegeta snarled. He squeezed tight as his aura enveloped Cell, flashing brilliant in his rage.
---

Now that the two combatants were stationary, Hercule was able to focus the camera on them. Still, neither was fully visable, as the bright yellow glow burned white in the camera lens and only revealed them intermittantly between bursts of energy. The camera did manage to find their faces, a scary, spearpoint of a face with wide, monstrous green eyes above bared, pointed teeth; and a purple, swollen face with gritted teeth over lolling tongue, eyes bulging far clear of their sockets within the camera shot, viewers could see the white gloves around Cell's throat.
All in unison, the anchorman, Bulma, Dr. Briefs, Master Roshi, Chi-Chi, and Oolong exclaimed the same three words:
"That's not Goku!"
"Oh, yeah!" Mr. Satan responded, with an ill placed chuckle. "Now I remember.That's that Vegetable dude. He's doing pretty good for how short he is..." he then panned the camera far to the right, zooming in and focusing the view on a big puff of smoke. Carefully, he centered the view downwards on a great, jagged hole in the ground.
"That's Goku. He lost like ten minutes ago. Always sucks to be the first to lose in a tournament!"
---

Chi-Chi screamed and slammed Roshi's TV into the wall. The pitiable appliance died with loud pop and a shower of sparks and glass bits. Without pause, she picked up the hem of her long blue dress and marched right over the remains and out the front door of Kame House. Silently, Roshi watched her go, unsure if it would even matter if he stopped her. Goku failed, and the Earth would surely cease with him. the old lecher sighed. Unbeknownst to anyone but himself now, Roshi had lived over 380 years. It was certainly a full life, full of success, failure, love, pain, everything worth feeling. Was it a blessing, he thought, or a curse to watch the world end, and die with it?

Oolong waddled speedily after Chi-Chi, yelling for her to stop. He tried to stop her from getting into the ancient, clunky yellow airship she received as a wedding gift on her marriage day. He begged her in his wavering, grungy voice to come to her senses and stay away from the southern islands.
"Chi-Chi!" the pig sqauwked, tugging on her skirt, "You're only gonna get in the way, or worse!"
Chi-Chi kicked her foot back into Oolong's face so hard he backflipped, landing on his ass on the porch stoop with a red footprint in his face.
Chi-Chi turned back, her face ruby with anger, yet running with tears.
"You think I care about getting in the way? My husband could be dead out there, and those muscle-bound, freak-show, PINHEADS are all that's between that monster and my son!"
She stormed off. Oolong called out to her.
"Goku's survived way worse--Hey!" Chi-Chi, come on, don't-" The pig hobbled out onto the lawn, but the airship was already lifting off, with Chi-Chi at the wheel, looking dead south with a determined face.
---

Vegeta crushed the androids neck so thoroughly that the fingertips of his hands touched the palms of his gloves. Cell did panic, if only for a few seconds. Then he brought his arms up, hands open, and clapped Vegeta's ears, stunning the Saiyan. With Vegeta's grip loosened, Cell kneed him in the stomach.
Cell had been taking it easy on Goku for the most part, but Goku had blown Cell into several, badly charred pieces. Cell had spent the dramatic six minutes after the Kamehameha regenerating. He had underestimated Goku, and now he was done underestimating Vegeta. The knee to the stomach bent the armor into Vegeta's stomach, and the Saiyan let go. In one fluid motion, Cell turned to the side and held out one straightened palm.
"How about a taste of your own medicine? a Final Blast!" Cell smiled, and an explosion of Ki emanated from his palm, blasting Vegeta down to the ground, with the fallen fighter leaving a crater several feet deep and several yards long. The Z-Fighters all could see his body in the valley below. Vegeta was motionless, his hair black.


East, across the valley, Gohan stayed on his knees on the stone plateau, trembling now not just with grief, but with fear. Cell didn't even need to try to crush Vegeta. Unbeknownst to the boy though, Cell's power had dropped appreciably, but his terrifying prescence kept up appearances of tireless invincibility. Still, Piccolo arched an eyebrow. the Namekian could swear he saw the android's shoulders slump, if only just for a second.

"Enough!" Trunks shouted, gritting his teeth. He stepped past Piccolo, his purple hair already starting to lift and change color. "I'll die before I see you kill anyone else!" the young Saiyan's aura flashed from white to gold, his hair leaping into a shock of curled spikes. Then the aura got bigger, and brighter, blinding. The granite beneath Trunks started to crack and crumble as the ground shook, and heat lightning struck behind him, lighting his newly monstrous face in stark white.
"I'd be happy to oblige you, Trunks." Cell gave a smug half smile and crossed his arms again.
Trunks yelled, then screamed, then roared. His hair became a terrible golden crown of blades over his distended forehead.
"You'll pay for this!" Trunks stomped forward, but Piccolo floated off the plateau in front of him, barring the way with arms spread wide.
"NO!" Piccolo growled, "We must fight him together! It's the only way."
Trunks hesitated, then nodded. Piccolo turned to his pupil.
"Gohan!" Yet, Gohan remained on his knees, head down. The cloak over his shoulders seemed like a blanket pulled over a scared child in bed. Piccolo sighed.
"I'm sorry, Gohan. Let's go, Trunks."

Gokhan was watching all this unfold from the opposite plateau n the south end, just as awestruck as Tien and Yamcha. Still, he wasn't so distracted that he didn't see a big brute of a man with a whild cloud of black hair running up the side of the other plateau He was coming up the side just as Piccolo stopped Trunks. Carefully, while giving Cell a wide berth, Gokhan flew around the Valley to investigate.
The man was human, even bigger than Gokhan himself, dressed in a dusty, grimy brown Gi top over stained white baggy pants and expensive leather boots. The afro on his head made his already enormous skull look like a planetoid. The man seemed pretty nimble running up the rocks, even though he was carrying a large news camera and wearing a giant, garish gold belt. Gokhan stepped down onto the southern tip of the eastern plateau watching, confused. The brute was no threat, so far as Gokhan could tell. His power level was diminutive.
---

Hercule set the camera down on the rock outcropping over the plateau floor, and spoke into the headset microphone for the last time.
"Mr. Satan here! I'm headin' into the fray now. To all my fans, I love you! The day is officially saved! I'm sorry, but I gotta put this junk down. When you next see me, Cell will be a dead man. But first I'm taking out King Piccolo! Farewell!" Hercule left the camera view, his headset clattering to the ground with another feedback scream. Unfortunately for the world's worth of people watching, as soon as Hercule was five paces from the camera, he merged with a world of hazy blue and brown, nothing distinguishable in the camera focus. The Anchorman, a little snuffly, offered Mr. Satan Godspeed.
---

"Piccolo, look out!" Gohan yelled. Piccolo gaped in disbelief as a strange hulk of a man tore at a full sprint across the plateau floor, headed straight for him. The 300+ pound fighter vaulted like a gymnist off the plateau, flying through empty air at Piccolo. As Hercule reached him, he spun like a turbine blade, helicoptering kicks at Piccolo's head. The Namekian grunted in surprise, but effortlessly blocked all three blows. Finally the Champ hauled his legs up, still hanging in air, and pistoned both feet at Piccolo's head. Piccolo blocked with both wrists, yet Hercule pushed off the Z-fighters arms and backflipped onto the plateau edge.
"The World Champion HAS ARRIVED!" Mr. Satan put his hands and smiled with humongous, porcelin white, capped teeth. From the air in the center of the valley, Cell mumbled
"You have got to be kidding me..."
Trunks took no notice, still glaring with deathly eyes at Cell.
"What are you doing?" Gohan moaned, tugging on Mr. Satan's sleeve.
"Why, kid, I'm gonna defeat Cell and his ally here, King Piccolo!" the Champ reached down instinctively to ruffle the boys hair and Gohan recoiled in disgust.
"Piccolo's on our side!"
"You must really want to die today, Hercule." Piccolo said flatly. He stepped back onto the cliff and waved at Cell, who was patiently floating over the valley. "Have at him, he's all yours."
Mr. Satan looked from Cell, to Piccolo, to Gohan, to Cell again, then to Trunks, a pitiful, confused cross-eyed look on his face. He gingerly stepped over to Trunks, whispering in his ear.

"I really admire you guys's special effects work out here. I mean, even from up here I can't see the wires!" the Champ winced as Trunks ignored hi, still seething at Cell. The android gave Trunks a smiley wink.
Mr. Satan blinked rapidly, chewing his lower lip, then he smiled and laughed loudly, and patted Trunks on one rippling, huge bicep.
"Damn good work at the gym, son! So... look, I promise with my solemn word as World Martial Arts Champion that I will train you at my own ten million dollar gym after this, free of charge! With my training, you'll definitely be the next Champion! All you have to do is..." he leaned in and shielded his mouth with an enormous, hairy hand, mumbling, "just hand me the biggest bomb you got, strap me on a wire, and push me towards Cell. I'll do the rest, no problem, kay?"

Trunks turned his head very slowly towards Hercule. His face morphed just as slowly from rage to incredulity. Mr. Satan's face went from barely hidden worry to relief covered by more boisterous laughter.
"That's right kid, I'll have you pumpin' gold-plated iron!"
"..." Trunks stared at Hercule. "...You can't fly?"
"Of course not! People can't fly!"
Trunks' face went hard again.
"Yes they can. And here's how."
Trunks grabbed Hercule by the lapel of his undershirt and hurled him away like a ballistic missile. Cell watched with mirth as the Champ sailed away, south into the sea, until a splash like a white dot on the horizon marked Mr. Satan's exit.
"Your aim is off, boy." Cell uncrossed his arms and idly cracked his knuckles. "You were supposed to help the World's Greatest Champion fly towards me," Cell said, chuckling.
"As I said, Cell, I will stop you. You will not destroy the Earth!"
Trunks roared again, refocusing his power; his muscles trembled and grew again, his hair raised to golden points, and his aura flashed with such intensity that the granite cliff crumbled away beneath him with a gravelly rush, barely audible over the shrieking noise of the golden glow.
"Oh yes, yes, yes. Over your dead body, I'm sure." Cell's eyes flicked to Piccolo.
"Aren't you going to power up too? You really should give it your all, as well. This is the Earth's final hour."

Piccolo signalled and Gohan backed away and flew south. Cell watched the kid go, wondering how well the Super Saiyan crybaby would fight after he'd ended Trunks and Piccolo. Gohan and Gokhan returned to the southern plateau. Tien and Yamcha opened their mouths to offer condolances, but Gokhan immediately pulled Gohan into his arms and hugged him. Goku's son wailed and cried, hugging back. Gohan was so strong that h nearly crushed Gokhan's ribs, but Gokhan didn't let go, pressing his face instead into Gohan's hair. Tien and Yamcha eventually pulled Gohan off when they saw Gokhan's face turning blue, and they huggged him.

"He's not gone! My daddy's not dead!" Gohan sobbed and held Tien and Yamcha.
"I don't believe it either, kid," Yamcha said quietly. "He'll be back, Goku always comes back."
"I gotta find him!" Gohan pulled free but Tien grabbed his arms and hauled him back.
"No, not yet, it's too dangerous! We'll just get in Trunks and Piccolo's way. All we can do is wait right now."
Gohan looked to Gokhan, and the big Saiyan nodded. Gohan turned back to Tien, rivers of tears running down his cheeks, and nodded as well.

Piccolo separated from Trunks. The half-Saiyan son of Vegeta was so powerful his very aura beat at him and bruised his skin. Once he was about fifty feet to Trunks' left, Piccolo spread his arms and his own muscular structure warped and hardened. The sky over overhead cleared completely of clouds as the sheer power of Trunks and Piccolo's energy blasted whirlwinds of air from their bodies. Piccolo's life force began to shine a brilliant silvery blue around his body.

Cell's eyebrows raised.
"I guess with you both, I may have to try...just a little.