Chapter Text
Planet Daitoshi, an urban planet in the sixth universe, home to rainstorms and crime. The place of hiding for one particular criminal, once a hero…
Within the darkness of the barren streets, an ice-blue reptilian creature stood awaiting his prey. This creature was known as an Arcosian, a species commonly nicknamed "Ice Demons", based on the fact that they were cold-blooded in more ways than one. He was trembling, his breathing was jagged, and he was bordering on sickly.
This lurker of the shadows was the notorious Frost, a space pirate who had played the good guy for so long… Until a few months prior, when a foolish Galactic Patrolman saw through his facade.
And that wasn’t even the worst of it. He finally had his chance to redeem himself in a tournament for survival and he blew it! All because of that damned traitor, Frieza!
Now, he stood weakened, the only thing between him and hypothermia being a dark tattered cloak, in wait of those trying to pursue him. He needed to keep them incapacitated so he could find a better hiding place. He had not seen anyone yet, but he had this strange feeling that he was being watched. He could feel a cold and familiar presence.
Frost felt that it was most likely his paranoia talking, probably spawned from constant attack or the fact that he was bordering on being blind in one eye. He held his wrist as his trusted weapon, preparing to launch the toxic needle within it. Of course, his aim was shaky, as the left side of his view was filled with a thick mist occasionally stained red from the open sores running along his face.
Suddenly, within the blood-filled fog, he finally noticed the unclear form of a being. He could make out a mass of deep gray and… lavender.
No, it couldn’t be him…
Yet, something still provoked him to fire the needle. “Hmph, he thinks he can sneak up on me that easily? Well-” He breathed. “I’ve got news for him. I’m not dying today…” The thorn rocketed through the thin air. However, in the blink of an eye, the gray and purple figure disappeared and the projectile fell to the ground.
Frost sighed. It must have been his vision playing tricks on him. There was no possible way it could’ve been the legendary assassin-
He felt a sudden presence behind him. “It’s been a while… Frost.” A stone cold and serious voice spoke.
“H-H-Hit…” Frost stuttered, not even daring to face him. Why was he here? Had he finally been sent to dispose of him?! “Have you come to try to take my life again? In my weakness?”
“I didn’t come here to-” Hit continued only to be interrupted by the Ice Demon collapsing onto his hands and knees. The assassin was visibly startled. Was he… surrendering?! Hopefully, this was a trick to catch him off guard, like their last encounter.
“Just make the strike!” Frost’s vision clouded further with tears. “You know what I’ve done. You know I can’t be forgiven. You know I don't deserve-"
"Calm yourself… You’re speaking nonsense."
"Stop wasting time. Strike me down already! Just end it! Finish me off! "
Hit’s heart nearly sank as he observed the crestfallen and injured Ice Demon. He was truly a shell of his prime. This once proud and fearless vigilante was now a starved fugitive who trembled at the name of an assassin. He lost nearly everything when the patrolman ratted him out. Could it possibly be true that he did not even have the will to live anymore?
"You’re-” The assassin hesitated. “You’re really serious?”
“Yes!”
“You want me to kill you?”
“Yes! ” Frost slammed his palms onto the ground. "It's all I ask!"
“If that’s how you want it, then,” Hit began to explain. “I need you to get off the ground. I’m going to need a strike to a point in your neck.”
“Whatever you need to do…" Frost rose to his feet, trembling. His eyes were closed tightly.
"I’ll give you three seconds in case you need to reconsider.” Hit took a breath.
“Three…
Two…”
The Arcosian did not seem to be hesitant in the slightest about impending death. Hit let out a brief sigh and prepared to land the blow.
“One…”
The assassin leapt forward in time and struck a pressure point on the half-blind Arcosian’s neck…
Frost walked along silently, following Vados into the grand stone castle. The many shades of violet mineral stood out in the dark of the evening. He felt like he was on trial having to trail behind the angel… and it didn’t help that she dragged him along with the rod of her scepter to keep tabs on him. The downsides of no longer being trusted.
“I’m still surprised that you decided to arrange a meeting with Lord Champa, Frost.” The green-dressed angel continued to lead him up the stairs that spiralled throughout Champa’s grand palace. “And so soon after the tournament. I believe it’s only been about a week.”
“I’m aware.” The Arcosian spoke in a hushed tone.
After a moment longer of silence, they came to the entrance way of a large room. He could catch a glimpse of the pudgy cat god Champa pacing along the wall of pillars. “We’ve arrived at my lord’s dining hall. He should be in here, since he’s awaiting his nightly meal.” Vados announced. She called into the room. “Lord Champa, there is someone here to meet with you!”
“I didn’t arrange for any meetings this evening!” He barked. “Not to mention, it’s almost time for my supper! Those six courses aren’t going to prepare themselves!"
Frost’s stomach briefly growled at the thought of a six-course dinner. Ever since his cover had been blown, he hadn’t been able to have even a light meal. Every few days, he could manage to feed off of what the land provided just enough to stave off starvation. Meanwhile, the God of Destruction was having a Thanksgiving feast on a nightly basis.
"Forgive him,” Vados laughed a little. “He gets a bit huffy when it’s almost meal time. I’d better go prepare his meal.”
The Ice Demon trembled. 'A bit huffy’ for a God of Destruction could mean that he was angry enough to kill. “If he’s not in the best of moods, I can always come back another time.” He tried to explain to the angel.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Vados prodded Frost with the tip of her angel’s scepter into the room, oblivious to his visible panic. “It’ll be fine!"
As Vados descended the stairway, Champa turned to face the reptilian criminal, who nervously looked destruction dead in the eyes.
Frost felt himself between soft layers of fabric, each one having a varying feel. Was this… Hell ? His punishment for his crimes, his end result… a bunch of blankets? Perhaps this was some sort of strange purgatory. Weakly shifting his hand around, he sampled each texture. To his front seemed to be a smooth and silky sheet of linen. To his back was some sort of fluffy bath towel. Reaching out beyond, he could feel the marbled texture of a leather seat cushion.
Where was he even? He was pretty sure he was dead. The assassin had dealt the blow.
Yet… he still felt.. pained… And he could faintly hear his slowed pulse beating in his ears.
He reached up to the wounds on his face. They still stung uncontrollably, and, as he pulled his hand back, he could feel it coated in blood. "Huh?”
“I see you’re awake.” A voice spoke from the left of him; the voice of Hit.
That confirmed it…
“I-I’m still alive?!” His own voice was shaking and panicked. “But, how? You never fail to kill your targets. You’re 'Never Miss Hit’!”
“I held back on purpose. I simply used the pressure point in your neck to knock you unconscious so I could take you somewhere safer."
"How long was I… out? We’re all the way at…” He tried to process exactly where he was, but the whole scene was out of focus and unfamiliar. He could only assume it was some sort of home. “Your… place?”
“Thankfully, I was gentle enough with you, so not that long. We’re not very far from where I found you. I live here on Daitoshi, you know. I’m never too far from work on this planet.” Hit got down off the couch and sat on his knees, allowing Frost to see his face. The Arcosian tried to focus his vision to fully make out his form. “Now, I need you to hold still for awhile.”
“Wait, why do I need to hold-” Frost was interrupted by Hit dabbing the mangled left side of his face with a cotton ball held between a pair of tweezers. He flinched and yelped with displeasure. “What the hell was that for?!"
"Relax, it’s just medicine for your eye.” Hit grabbed the Ice Demon’s arm in an attempt to keep him still. Frost tensed up a little. “It’s only going to hurt more if you squirm.” The assassin took a bottle of clear liquid and applied more to the cotton ball. He continued to treat the trio of wounds. “Speaking of which, how did you get these injuries? It seems a bit too deliberate to be a simple trip and fall accident. In fact, they almost look like claw marks…”
“You really think I’d forgive a performance like yours…” Champa glared at Frost. “Heh, don’t make me laugh.”
“But, Lord Champa,” The Arcosian tried to reason with the God of Destruction. “If you just remove the charges against me and let me return as head of my empire, I’ll be sure to make it worth-”
He was interrupted. “I said I would pardon you if you secured the win for us,” The pudgy anubis snarled. “And I’d hardly call your performance in the Tournament one worth praise. You promised me results right in these chambers after Hit fetched you from the trash. Instead, you let your guard down against that filthy rat from Universe 7, and you humiliated me in front of the other universes by returning to your cheating ways and getting yourself vaporized.”
“It was all that traitor Frieza’s fault! That wasn’t my-”
“It was your own fault. You got cocky. You didn’t hold your end of the agreement, so I’m not holding mine. Now, leave so I can eat my dinner in peace.”
Frost was left standing in shock as his chance at redemption was swept out of his grasp… and at the same time, a feeling of anger was welling up inside.
At that moment, Vados arrived at the top of the stairs, levitating the six courses of Champa’s supper. “Lord Champa, your dinner is ready.”
“Ah, finally!” Champa turned around to face his attendant, his mouth watering at the sight. “Now, before we proceed, would you kindly escort this cretin out of my presence?”
“On it, my lord.”
Frost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Not only was he refused redemption… he was being discarded without a second thought. He couldn’t take the thought…
“You think you can discard me that easily?" He spoke with a low growl. As Vados tried to take him by the arm, he leapt through the air toward the God of Destruction. "Think again, you rat bastard!”
“I told you to leave.” Champa swiped at Frost with his thick black claws. They harshly raked through his face, leaving thick bleeding gashes behind.
The Arcosian fell limply to the ground, eye now flooded with a wave of fresh, running blood. He managed to raise his hand to his face, causing it to be enveloped in the sticky fluid. His heart had begun to race and his breathing became faster and more unsteady.
“Vados, remove this monster from my presence at once! Leave him on that dreaded rain planet to die.”
The angel’s surprisingly mellow and dismissive reply of “Of course, my lord.” was the last thing heard before Frost’s consciousness faded away.
“The gashes seem pretty thick. I don’t know what creature could have made those. You want to tell me how you got those, Frost?"
Frost did not speak, fearfully recalling his encounter with the God of Destruction. The only sound was his unsteady breathing.
"Frost?”
More silence followed. He was clearly insistent on not divulging any details.
“Fine. Don’t tell me.” Hit continued applying the medicine. The room was brought into near silence, only being broken by the wall clock's slow ticking and the Ice Demon's out-of-pace breaths. The assassin was unnerved by each individual change in breathing rhythm, but he tried not to make it obvious. Frost was clearly shaken up and his breathing would readjust.
The assassin suddenly paused. A reason for Frost's state came to Hit's mind. It made sense in context. He had overheard the Ice Demon trying to make an agreement with Champa before the tournament a few weeks ago. Not to mention, the bloodied markings on his face seemed thick enough to come from the Anubis god's equally thick onyx claws.
“You tried asking the God of Destruction to pardon you, didn’t you?”
Frost finally sighed. “Fine, you got me.” He hesitantly admitted. “I thought it would work, but the bastard discarded me, my rage got the best of me and, as you can obviously tell..." He grumbled. "Things didn't go so smoothly."
“Well, what matters is that you’re safe now. He can't hurt you here, and I sure as hell won't let anyone else.”
Frost’s irises darted to the side with a scoff. “Hmph, good luck with that...” However, despite his cold and aloof dismissal of him, for once, Hit finally saw Frost manage some semblance of a smile…
…and he also saw a glimpse of his winced left eye, trying its hardest to peer out through the bloody scars and meet his gaze with one that was hoping he was telling the truth.