The Perfect Tournament - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Let the Cell Games begin!


"Now please take care of yourselves," Chi-Chi said from the doorway, waving off to her raven-turned-blonde haired men.

"I'll be fine, mom!" Gohan said insistently, smiling back with an exasperated edge in his voice.

"Don't worry, Chi-Chi! If anyone needs to watch his back, it's going to be me. Your little boy is probably stronger than his old man!" Goku said reassuringly, ruffling Gohan's golden locks, earning a giggle from his 11 year old son.

"Somehow I find that hard to believe," Chi-Chi rolled her eyes, allowing herself to smile with resignation, "just get going, or else Vegeta might start something!"

"Nah, he's bigger than that," Goku shook his head, albeit chuckling sheepishly as he scratched his chin with wonder, "though if Cell pressed his buttons..."

"Dad! Leaving you behind now!" Gohan said as he took flight, his weighted armor cape flapping behind his back as he accelerated at a higher altitude.

"Oh, okay!" Goku laughed innocently, sprinting across the ground before discharging a blast of air behind his feet, his body zooming up high into the sky along with his son.

Chi-Chi stared longingly as her most important people left her behind. Turning on her heels, she sighed sadly as she shut the door behind her.

"They're coming back," Chi-Chi whispered, sitting down on the couch in front of the TV until the time was right, "they have to."

~~~~

It didn't take long for Goku and Gohan to reach the Lookout. Having agreed all would rendezvous up upon the monument that looked down over the world, all Z Warriors including Vegeta and his son would congregate there. Even Android 16 showed up, insistent on assisting in any way he could.

Dende wished them all a safe journey, both himself and Popo would be constantly in their thoughts, keeping the Dragon Balls close at hand in the event they needed them.

As they flew towards the area that Cell specifically entailed in his televised challenge to the world, Goku felt something amiss. The energy of the world he had been much more attuned to, thanks to his training as a master of Super Saiyan energy, allowed him to feel a certain 'aura' within the air. There was pain, confusion, anger, and but there was still an underlying amount of hope that this would all be over.

While the last underlying drive encouraged Goku, the prior three wavelengths the Earth's populace projected caused him to worry.

Flying up ahead, endowed with a dimmer golden light than normal, he approached Piccolo's left flank as he lead the charge so to speak.

"Piccolo," Goku began, hesitation laced within his words as he paused, "there's something wrong with the Earth. I've been getting this strange feeling things have escalated more than it had a week ago."

"Yeah, about that. Dende and I just recently shared thoughts about that before departing. Cell went on a rampage of sorts across the world," Piccolo answered in a low, foreboding tone.

Gritting his teeth, Goku kept his voice low, so to not alarm his son or the others that flew meters apart from them, "How many?"

"Millions. Perhaps more," Piccolo answered in a solemn, honest tone.

"Darn it, Cell! Why didn't you wait?!" Goku swore to himself, balling up his fists that were at his sides.

"Well, he'll probably have some form of answer when we arrive. But considering how he callously slaughtered entire inhabited islands of people, not to mention the tens of thousands he's absorbed. Just don't expect a justified answer to your justified question," Piccolo explained, his own eyes glaring ahead as his transparent aura glistened with a thrumming calm around his caped endowed being.

"Yeah, I guess we will," Goku said, lapsing into momentary silence. After a minute, Goku couldn't help but chuckle to himself, "hey, Piccolo?"

"What is it?" Piccolo asked, sounding more grated than before.

"Aren't you feeling kind of an excitement of Deja Vu?" Goku asked, his eyes beaming over at him with innocence.

"Heh," Piccolo allowed himself to smirk, despite the circumstances that were leading them to their destiny, "it seems we're always heading to a Tournament to decide the fate of this planet. Last time it was you and me, but that was years ago. I'm not even sure how many people remember that fight in the world, let alone care."

"Yeah, hehe," Goku chuckled, running a hand up through his erect pale blonde locks fondly, "I don't think anyone would recognize the new 'Super' me than the old me. Plus, I was pretty beat up by the time that fight was over."

"Funny how you couldn't move and I was allowed to walk away," Piccolo chuckled with remembrance. His tone shifted quickly, though, as he stared into Goku's eyes with a hardened glare, "don't do the same with Cell."

"Piccolo..."

"I'm serious," Piccolo insisted, his teeth practically bared at his long time rival, friend, and former enemy, "if you give him the benefit of the doubt like you did for Vegeta or me, then you're only giving someone like Freeza or his father a chance to stab you in the back. If I'm not able to, make sure you end him, once and for all!"

"..." Goku stared out towards the horizon, realizing their destination was rapidly approaching. His voice grew somber and deep, reflecting on the seriousness of his answer to Piccolo, "I'm not sure if I'm the one to stop him or even if he can be stopped. I'll give him the standard warning as always, but if he refuses, he won't get a second chance. That much I promise you."

"Tch, better than nothing I suppose," Piccolo clicked his tongue, as his eyes lowered down towards the wasteland ravine.

What his eyes noticed coupled with his enhanced hearing was a number of camoflauged mobile artillery units, tents, and infantry stationed within a dip in the valley that was a good handful of kilometers away from insignificantly sized arena that Cell created. He could only fathom they were from the Royal Military, considering they weren't off to stupidly confront Cell at close range like so many had done the first time he fought Cell.

'If they know what's good for them, they should stay out of our way,' Piccolo thought to himself, as he stared longingly at the stretch of futile military power stationed a good distance from their challenge stage.

When they approached further, Piccolo noticed something peculiar in the layout from their aerial view below. A large carved circle was engraved within the desert soil around the simplistic arena, almost like a rustic boundary. Just outside of the boundary was four square shape indentations, one of them filled and the others empty. That, and there were four holes of perfectly carved entry nearly a hundred meters back from their locations, making an incomp large box with the radius length of two kilometers in gait.

The one that was filled obviously had those that Earth thought could make a difference.

A handful of people, those who dressed up and looked more official, appeared to be those who were responsible for shooting the event on Global Television. There were four capable appearing figures within the box next to the reporters, all of them presumably being participants in their own rights.

One was the rising star and glorified Martial Artist Champ AND Wrestling Champ, Hercule Satan. Having been seen televised in publicized rallies to encourage the masses, a good number of the people of Earth who realized the magnitude of the threat Cell posed have rallied behind him and his surprisingly charismatic appeal. He had a dark brown gi top, a black belt sash wrapped around in a ceremonial knot over his white gi slacks, with bare feet exposed as much as part of his hairy chest. His black beard was a deep black, though not nearly as impressive or ridiculous as the puffy afro adorned over his head.

To the approaching Piccolo and co., he looked more like a parody of martial arts rather than a representation of them.

'Then again, Master Roshi didn't look like much and I was dead wrong when I was a kid,' Goku thought with humility, knowing despite the absence of the famous Turtle Hermit, he still was a good fighter on terms how humans go.

But from the obnoxious laugh and way he punched the air, he seemed to wrapped up in his own world. The people wearing colorful uniforms and praising this man's every move as if he were a idol of popularity clearly were his groupies or loyal fans, as well as Goku could deduce, so he turned his attention to the next person standing at the forefront.

A teenager, from the looks of it in her advanced college-age, with long luscious silver hair caressing her shoulders. Said shoulders had official black pauldrons of a rounded shape, matching the studs placed over her gloves and boots. The rest of her body had a body-hugging, sensually alluring black-gold armor mesh. A insignia on her upper left breast showed the seal of the King on her person, giving her a militaristic edge and official response from the aged king of the World Government.

'Hmph, at least that useless King is sending someone looking half-competent,' Piccolo thought, as his brown-sandal covered feet touched the ground with the rest of the accompanied group.

The last two were standing right next to each other.

One was a boy a little older than Gohan, with short cropped black hair that slicked back save for a few bangs hanging over his forehead. He only had a simple banana-hued sleeveless shirt, with a pair of gray slacks and bare feet.

The other was a short, robe bound woman standing up to his hips. She had gray hair flowing down her shoulders and back, and a serious glare of concentration towards the arena. Her arms placed behind her back and her student at her side, she appeared to be the stronger and wiser of the two.

'Reminds me when I used to be around Nappa. Don't miss the idiot, though. Trunks makes a fine substitute,' Vegeta thought with a smirk.

As they descended towards a nearby box dozens of meters away, the Z Warriors took stock of their surroundings.

"Wow, that arena is a lot smaller than I expected," Yamcha said aloud, scratching his spiky haired head with a nonchalant grin on his face.

"Yeah, it's kind of underwhelming," Krillin, chuckled.

"If the arena is only that large," Tien began, his three eyes looking side to side at the obvious lines carved into the soil around them and the arena, "why did Cell make us back up into this crudely carved boxes? Is he expecting us to abide by some form of sportsmanship and not move?"

"Don't be naive," Vegeta huffed out, his arms crossing over his armored chest, folded underneath each muscular limb, "he has something nefarious planned out. Remember, he may have all of your lot's genetic code and bodily traits, but he has more personality and intellect stemming from myself, the Namekian, and Frieza's family."

"Yeah, appearances may be more than what they're indicated," Trunks spoke lowly, his partially spiked pale blonde turning with his head as he nodded towards the four obvious large holes beyond the circular lines, "see those? I think Cell dug something deep underground."

"You think he's under our feet right now?" Tien asked, his eyes looking at the holes distances kilometers away, their own diameter being easily two dozen meters in width.

"If he is, he's too deep for even my senses to detect," Piccolo concurred, his eyes furrowing ahead towards the arena that Cell created. It gleamed in the Sun's overcast glare in the clear sky, revealing the gray-hued tiles and the four individual spires erected on each corner of the platform of feet thick of something closely resembling steel.

"Maybe he sensed our new powers and decided to relieve his terror-stricken bladder?" Yamcha asked jocularly, laughing nervously in a pitiful attempt to alleviate the mood.

"He's not scared," Gohan's voice finally picked up, the pale-golden haired prodigy child staring at the hole to their frontal right, "he's excited. I can feel the faint pulses of his energy, even suppressed. He's hardly containing himself."

Vegeta and Trunks looked agape. Though the human warriors just nodded with ignorant affirmation at the boy's conclusion, the fact that Gohan's senses were so attuned that he could properly locate and feel the exact emanations of Cell's power where others could not spoke leagues of the distance in strength he's crossed.

'He may very well be as strong, if not stronger than Kakarot!' Vegeta thought with mixed fright and anticipation.

'Gohan...you're leagues above the man who mentored and trained me, it's not even funny,' Trunks thought with mingled pride and awe, happy to see this younger counterpart grow to be such a strong person.

"Uh-oh," Piccolo chimed in, sideglancing a pair of people from the only other populated 'box' and come towards them, "don't look now, but the paparazzi have arrived."

"Just ignore them and they'll eventually go away," Vegeta murmured aloud, immediately attributing his standard aloof visage, turning his head away from their direction so their primitive recording device wouldn't get a mug shot.

"Hiya!" Goku hospitably greeted the pair of media and news.

"Hello, I am Jimmy Firecracker," Jimmy said confidently, holding his mike close to mustached mouth as the camera man leaned over his shoulder to get a closer view, "I've been giving the important duty to report to the world what is presided as the most dangerous Tournament in the history of mankind. Tell me, as new arrivals, can you explain to me how you used wires and reflective mirrors in the air to give the illusion of you floating down to the ground?"

"Uh...wires? Illusion?" Goku scratched his chin, looking genuinely baffled.

"Yeah, the way you all kind of glowed for a few seconds before settling down. Did you have a DynoCap utility to allow that to all be possible?" Jimmy asked presumptuously, leaning forward, trying to intimidate the baffled Saiyan.

"There were no tricks, Mr. Firecracker," Goku said proudly, placing his hands on his hips, "we did exactly as you saw, minus the illusion part. We actually flew over hundreds of miles to get here."

"Fascinating," Jimmy's eyes ogled with confusion mingling with his own adamant disbelief, "so tell me, for the audiences sitting at home, exactly how do you do it then? If it's not by the miracles of Science, is there some mystic power that grants you this ability?"

"Nope. We use our body's energy, called Ki. Anyone can learn it from an advanced Martial Art's Master, like from the Turtle or Crane Schools," Goku explained simply, a simple smile adorned upon his visage, giving him an honest light to his words.

"I've vaguely heard of those schools," Jimmy stroked his chin as he looked down, his mind trailing to those sources. After a few moments of pondering, he looked up with suspicion and keen, piqued interest as he asked his next question, "so you're saying ANYONE on the planet could learn to fly and glow?"

"Yup!" Goku nodded adamantly, laughing as he toothily smiled back at the baffled reporter.

"I see. But Hercule said stuff like that is-"

"HOOOOOOOOOOOOLD IT RIGHT THEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERE!" Hercule shouted aloud, his body doing a forward flip to land in a dramatic crouch next to the reporter. Standing to his feet, the human wrestler and martial artist stood up to Goku's taller frame, making sure he was between the camera and Goku.

"Uhhhhhhhh," Goku's eyes widened with intrigue and surprise.

"Listen here, Match Head," Hercule pointed at Goku's head in emphasis, causing Goku to lean back from the uncomfortable proximity Hercule was to him, "I know you're trying to take advantage of people like the con artists you are! Everyone knows that you're just a low life trying to come in with no experience as a TRUE fighter whatsoever!"

"N-No I'm not! I might look strange to you, but I really am an experienced fighter!" Goku insisted in a pleading tone, even holding his hands up in a begging posture to appease the misunderstood man.

"Tch, what a buffoon," Vegeta muttered lowly, still keeping his eyes away from the idiocy unfolding.

"Just keep quiet and let the man have his say," Piccolo muttered lowly to the rest, earning a few glares but mostly nods and grunts of mutual understanding.

"Well I've never heard of ya! And if the great Hercule Satan hasn't  heard of you, then you must be a phony!" Hercule wagged his finger at Goku with absurd certainty, causing Goku to furrow his brows at him.

It was when his eyes focused on the obvious gold belt around him with the inscriptions of WMC on it that his eyes widened, letting out a gasp of realization as he shouted with enough volume to cause Hercule to back off, "Whoa! You're a Champion of the World Martial Arts Tournament!"

"Uh...of, of course I am! I just won this title last year!" Hercule puffed his chest, laughing haughtily as he thumbed hairy skin, "I'm a bit surprised you recognized this belt! Here I pegged you as a country bumbkin who didn't know what he was talking about!"

'Better not tell him I live up on Mount Paozu,' Goku thought as he chuckled sheepishly.

Making best of the time he had, he followed up and thumbed at his own orange gi covered torso, "You know, I guess this means we have something in common. I won the 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament 11 years ago!"

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-?!" Hercule's eyes widened to comical propotions as he recoiled back with utter shock and disbelief, "n-n-no! You're lying! You can't possibly be that old and there's no way someone like you isn't freakin' famous!"

"W-Wait a minute!" Jimmy stumbled forward, the camera man himself was blinking with confusion as his reporter colleague shoved Hercule's recoiled body aside to hold the mike up towards Goku's face, "I recognize you now! You're Goku Son, the guy who beat Ma Junior!"

"Hahaha, that's me!" Goku shamelessly admitted, scratching the back of his head as me smiled innocently at Jimmy, not noticing as Gohan practically beamed with pride in his father a few meters away.

"Wait a minute," Hercule stumbled back up, waving his hands at the reporter, "this guy really did fight in a Tournament?!"

"Only the most frightening Tournament in the history of the World Martial Arts Competitions!" Jimmy held up his hand with a balled up fist, emphasizing the events as he turned back and forth between the former and current champ, "they were shooting beams of light from their hands in that competition too, I'm sure of it! I was interning there in the crowd and saw the whole fight unveil before my eyes."

Piccolo couldn't help but restrain the urge to laugh or make eye contact. His feet shuffled him to bend around Tien's flank, hoping the tall triclopian man could keep him out of sight of the reporter and cause needless embarassment or panic for that matter.

"Yeah, sorry about the mess," Goku chuckled sheepishly, a finger wiping under his nose.

'Oh no! If that's true, then what they say about Cell is probably true too! How am I supposed to fight against guys like that?!'  Hercule thought with incredulous shock as Goku admitted to the damage they created to the ring. Shaking his head, he reinvited the disbelief, practically chanting it as a manta. He wouldn't let history come back to bite him in the butt, not when he's so close to ultimate glory and fame.

"Sorry to ask this," Jimmy asked, his eyes shifting as he looked at Goku curiously, "but, why are you dying your hair? To disguise your identity? And why are there so many of you-"

"This still doesn't prove anything!" Hercule cut Jimmy off, pushing him to the side rudely as he pointed the finger towards Goku's chest again, "I still think you're pulling some sort of strings or mirrors from...somewhere!"

"Where?" Goku asked, raising his own arms curious to see if something was giving off that affect, "I'm only wearing a gi and I got nothing else on me."

"Uh...you...or...they...DOH!" Hercule stamped off, waving his fist back at them, "I'm the Champ, so what I say goes! YOU HEAR ME?! I AM THE CHAMP!"

Sighing, Jimmy reached into his chest pocket, pulling out a tissue to wipe off his forehead, "I guess I'll get an interview with you later. I'm technically suppose to cover Hercule since he's a current star in the Martial Arts World. No hard feelings?"

"None taken. I don't think I'm all that cut-out for being popular, haha!" Goku laughed off pleasantly, earning a smile from Jimmy, as he and the camera man walked off to join Hercule back at their designated box.

"He's not so bad for a reporter," Gohan voiced out, smiling at the retreating form of Jimmy Firecracker.

"Yeah, it's nice to see your dad get recognition for what he deserves, even if others are too prideful to admit it," Krillin nodded with a beaming smile of his own.

"Funny that there's a guy more prideful in the wrongest way than Vegeta is!" Yamcha laughed out, quickly earning a heated glare from the passive Super Saiyan standing next to him.

"Want to experience spontaneous combustion AGAIN, you Scarred Buffoon?" Vegeta snarled out with an upraised, balled fist that audibly cracked knuckles with malicious emphasis.

"It was a joke, totally a joke! Haha...please don't hurt me," Yamcha begged, causing the others to laugh out loud at the scar-faced bandit's antics.

It was during this time that Cell's form flew out of the tunnel behind them, floating almost silently over their heads before figure blocked out the Sun over them. The shadow that it cast was enough to earn a collective expression of aghast shock and anger, mingling properly over to the appropriate individuals.

Smirking down at them, Cell asked out loud with arms crossed, landing before their outlined box space, "Glad you could make it."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Goku said with eagerness, slamming a fist into an open palm for emphasis, "I'm ready to get this Tournament started!"

"In due time, Goku, in due time," Cell admonished, a smile stretching across his face, "but first, I need to let you all know how this Tournament is going to work. And even if those fighters are not on your level, it's only fair that I inform them so that they get an equal chance. Wouldn't want to let all of the Cell-Thrashing be left up to you, do you?"

"Fair...don't make us laugh, Cell!" Trunks growled, taking a step forward, holding up a gloved fist towards the Bio-Android's form, "I know what's been going on for the last week. I know you've been murdering millions of people for your own sick pleasure, just like the Androids of my time have! You gave your word you wouldn't harm anyone till this Tournament...so why go back on your word?!"

"Easy. I was bored," Cell answered casually, shrugging as he unfurled his arms, "maybe the Frieza part of me wanted to lay waste to some insignificant cities. Maybe the Vegeta in me didn't mind cooling the blood boiling in my veins. Or maybe I just didn't give a damn what I said to you and decided to have fun. After all, it's not like you can't ressurrect them back with the Dragon Balls when you beat me, right?"

A mixture of horror and silence was let loose within the huddled group of warriors standing before Cell. The measure of callousness in how he responded and rationalized why he killed so many struck them so sinisterly familiar to Frieza, but at the same time it held a certain eerie menace that was similar to that of Vegeta and Piccolo as well.

That and his knowledge of the Dragon Balls' reactivation was a very bad thing.

"You could have waited," Goku responded sternly, his glare unforgiving in Cell's direction, "there was no need to hurt so many people for your own sick enjoyment."

"Perhaps," Cell began, his smile faltering as he spoke seriously, "but I did it anyways. I may possess your memories, your fighting techniques, and your sense of rationality within my mind but I am nothing like you or your reformed companions. I am Cell, the Perfect Being. You will follow my rules and not debate ridiculous semantics of why I slaughtered an insignificant percentage of the planet's populace."

"And what's to stop us from not following your rules?" Vegeta asked darkly, a vein of anger already protruding from his forehead as his fists balled at his sides.

"Me," Cell answered directly, raising his hands upwards, clenching them declaratively, "I dare you to all come at me at once. I'll tear each of you apart with my bare hands and it won't even be fun for any of you. In the process, this planet will be wrended asunder by the power of our attacks, killing countless billions more. Are you willing to take that chance? Any of you?"

As a long, haunting silence carried across the group of Z Warriors, their doubt and fear making their decision of enact on their voiced threat.

"Thought so," Cell said with a dark smile, his body floating back upwards, carrying him back towards the distance that would be the center of the ring.

When a few seconds past, Cell's volumed voice carried across to both diagonally aligned sections his competitors were lined up and huddled in, "GREETINGS ALL! WELCOME TO THE ONE AND ONLY CELL GAMES! AS THE HOST AND CREATOR OF THIS TOURNAMENT I AM GOING TO LAY OUT A SET OF RULES OF HOW THIS IS GOING TO WORK:

RULE # 1: YOU MAY USE WHATEVER MEANS YOU BELIEVE ARE NECESSARY. THAT MEANS YOU CAN FIGHT DIRTY, USE WEAPONS, AND USE AS MUCH LETHAL FORCE AS YOU DESIRE. ANYTHING GOES, SO LONG AS IT IS PRESENT ON YOU AND YOU DON'T LEAVE THE TOURNAMENT IN ORDER TO ACQUIRE SAID TOOL FOR VICTORY!

RULE # 2: IF AN OPPONENT SURRENDERS, IS KNOCKED OUT OF BOUNDS, IS KNOCKED UNCONSCIOUS, OR DIES, THEY WILL BE DISQUALIFIED.

RULE # 3: NO MORE THAN A SINGLE OPPONENT WILL BE EMPLOYED IN EACH MATCH AGAINST EACH OTHER. IF ANYONE TRIES TO INTERVENE AND JOIN IN THEY WILL BE IMMEDIATELY DISQUALIFIED.

RULE # 4: IF THERE ARE NO MORE OPPONENTS LEFT STANDING BY THE END OF THIS TOURNAMENT, I AM THE WINNER OF THIS TOURNAMENT. IF I CONCEDE OR DIE, THEY BECOME THE CELL GAMES CHAMPION!

"ANY QUESTIONS?!" Cell asked in his booming voice, allowing his rules to sink in. He tried to be as simplistic as possible, so no confusion could possibly be misunderstood before he revealed the last technicality of his Cell Games.

When no one answered, Cell clasped his hands together and raised his voice out, "THEN ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE TO YOU, THE CELL GAMES STADIUM!"

As he said that, the entire ground began to shake violently. Coming up from the four holes in their enclosed space were spire-shaped pillars of similar steel make, rising with the earth that broke apart the hollow layer of soil they all stood upon.

Everyone rose into the air, their line quickly becoming a box on the top of a circular wall. Behind them, each pillar gleamed with emerald light, dispersing behind them and encasing them in a large box of multi-colored light. The small humble arena platform became raised up as well, leaving a vast dark space that lit up with a vibrant series of rumbling explosions. In no time at all, the space underneath the cubical upraised platform was wreathed in flames, dancing on embers of molten rock.

"He built all of this?!" Trunks asked with bewilderment.

"Whoa! Cell sure likes to do things in style!" Krillin shouted with amazement, Gohan himself looking around with bewildering awe of how Cell raised up the enormous stadium.

"Tch, it's nothing that special," Vegeta said insistantly, wiping away any awed look his eyes held onto the surroundings he was now within.

The ring itself extended another thirty meters with gait, truly becoming a battlefield durable and capable of withstanding their levels of firepower. Or at least, that was what Cell was counting on.

"ALLOW ME TO EXPLAIN HOW THIS IS GOING TO PROCEED," Cell continued in his booming voice, pointing towards the various sections of his stadium, "EVERYONE IN THEIR BOXES IS IN A SAFE ZONE. I HAVE ERECTED A BARRIER OF ENERGY PRIOR TO THIS WITHIN THE LINE THAT RAISED UP THE EARTH THAT'S YOUR VIEWER BOX. IT EXTENDS AROUND THE ENTIRE INTERIOR OF THE BATTLE ARENA, DEEP UNDERGROUND AND HIGH UP INTO THE SKY. IF AN OPPONENT LEAVES THE SPACE AND PASSES OVER THE SAFE ZONE, YOU ARE DISQUALIFIED. IF A CONTENDER LEAVES HIS BOX AND ENTERS THE FIGHT, YOU ARE DISQUALIFIED. ENERGY IS DISPERSED AROUND THIS FIELD BUT ORGANIC MATTER CAN PASS THROUGH, ALLOWING CONTENDERS TO COME AND GO AS QUICKLY AS YOU WANT. ANY QUESTIONS?"

"Yeah, I got one!" The young, yellow-shirt adorned fighter from Hercule's box asked with an interested tone, "does that mean you're going to follow the rules of those non-interference parameters too? Like, not take pot shots at us while someone else is fighting?"

"PRECISELY!" Cell answered with a smile, satisfying the young contender's query, "ANYONE ELSE?"

Gohan raised his hand this time, earning a chuckle from the Bio-Android, pointing to the short young warrior from the 'Z-Box', "YES?"

"If there are four boxes, then does that mean there are going to be more than us fighting in this Tournament?" Gohan asked with a hardened stare.

"SHARP OBSERVATION!" Cell responded with delight, clapping his hands as he explained further, "YES! I AM HAVING OTHERS FIGHT, IN ORDER TO PROVE YOUR WORTHINESS AS AN OPPONENT FOR THE PERFECT BEING! AFTER ALL, ONE MUST BE CHALLENGED IN ORDER TO BE A CHALLENGER HIMSELF!"

"And who are these other fighters?" A straightforward inquiry made by the Royal Army Agent standing at the forefront of Hercule's box.

"THEY SHALL BE REVEALED IN DUE TIME!" Cell answered with a disturbing chuckle, causing chills to run down the spines of everyone present. Swinging his hand in a flamboyant manner, he pointed directly at the box holding the estranged human fighters, "I HAVE ELEVEN FIGHTERS CAPABLE OF MEETING YOUR METTLE! THE PEOPLE TO YOUR LEFT ALREADY HAVE THE DISTINGUISHED HONOR OF MEETING EIGHT OF THEM IN COMBAT AT MY CHOICE. CHOOSE YOUR THREE WISELY!"

As the group within Hercule's box looked around, wondering who should go and who should stay, two voices spoke out immediately.

"I'll fight, it's why I'm here," The silver haired, bodysuited woman said with a confirmed nod.

"Hey, I might as well do it too," The boy next to the weathered woman said, flashing a cocky grin and posture that made his master sigh belatedly.

"You can't have me sit this one out! As Champ, Hercule Satan has an obligation to defeat this mystery opponent and prove himself more than a match for this guy in a costume!" Hercule declared with an upraised foot perching on the box's, waist-high wall divider, propping his fists on his hips. He wanted to look good for the camera, after all.

"CONGRATULATIONS, HERCULE, FOR NOMINATING YOURSELF AS THE FIRST COMPETITOR TO COMPETE IN THE CELL GAMES!" Cell announced with devilish delight, causing the afro warrior to suddenly stand agape at his bumbling predicament.

"Uh...I'm...first?" He muttered out slowly, still disbelieving how sudden he was placed into this predicament.

"Wow, folks! Hercule has been chosen by Cell to be his first opponent! He's going to end this Tournament once and for all before it even begins!" Jimmy said with a positive, upbeat attitude to emphasize the forced drive of endearingness that Hercule desired out of him.

And in this case, Hercule wish he hadn't admonished. He quickly tried to think of a way to get out of it. Looking at his surroundings, he pointed at the box he's in, proudly proclaiming,"HA! You fool! I can't jump a distance that great  to get to that ridiculous arena of yours! You're making it impossible to-"

"YOU CAN'T? THEN ALLOW ME!" Cell proclaimed, raising his right hand out in emphasis towards Hercule's direction, stretching his telekinetic grasp over him.

"W-W-What's going on?!" Hercule felt himself being lifted off the ground, dangling helplessly in the air, earning aghast and confused expressions from all of his faithful disciples and the two newscast agents.

With a sudden beckoning flick of his hand, Hercule was sent comedically hurtling face first towards the arena, tumbling forward head over heels. His yell of terror was overcome by groans of pain, as he staggered up, a reddened mark on his face pulsating with painful spasms.

"O-Owwww," Hercule rubbed his ruggedly masculine visage, blinking with further confusion to his newfound environment, "uh...how did I get here?"

"Excellent!" Cell said in a normal volumed tone, propping his hands on his hips as he stood in front of Hercule, causing the latter to recoil with alarm and defensiveness, "now that you're here, let me call your challenger!"

Placing his pasty white fingers into his mouth, Cell let out a shrill whistle, beckoning a dark silhouette of movement to emanate from the concealed viewer box to the viewers far left.

It, on contrast to the others and Cell's, had a roof and walls, with only an oval door opening for them to come out. When the first silhouetted being came out, it moved within a burst of golden light, practically landing in a crouched stance before Hercule in a heartbeat.

"WHOA!" Hercule yelled out suddenly, his eyes widening at the familiar hued frame that held a sense of eerie remembrance through his head, "w-what are you supposed to be?!"

As it raised up on two feet, Hercule felt his blood go cold.

What stood before him was a lithe, young teenaged form. She had similar black pauldron armor plates running over her slender shoulders, while a spotted green-black camo hued breastplate flowed over a diminutive sized chest and over her pelvis down to her upper thighs. This left her arms, waistline & lower back, lower thighs bare, showing a milky white complexioned skin that was toned with reasonable musculature definition. Black-green gauntlets and boots were adorned to small hands and feet. What was familiar, however, was her face.

A green-spotted camo hued crest that formed a circlet around her entire head, leaving a high-rise style ponytail of black hair to pool down her neck and rest at the top of her spine. Cold scarlet eyes replaced those that used to be ocean blue orbs, with a yellow armored brace wrapping under her chin and over her ears leaving nothing but ear protection where her auditory skin used to be shown.

"I-I-It's a trick...it has to be," Hercule whispered out, trying to make sense of what he was seeing before his eyes.

"Oh, but it's true," Cell said with a dark smile and sadistic tone, waving his hand over to the feminine look-alike of his to Hercule, "allow me to introduce to you one of eleven of my daughters, Videl Jr."


To be continued!!!