The Gears Keep Turning

Gods. No matter the country, planet, solar system, galaxy or one of the twelve universes, the multiple realms in-between, and the thousands upon thousands of cultures found in each one, Gods are always present. Fictional and actual, benevolent and malevolent, righteous and immoral, these all-powerful beings always have and always will exist in one way or another. To inspire faith or fear or power or peace, anything the mortals need them to through the many tales of their adventures and scandals.

One particular breed of Gods stands above the rest, however, in both power and renown or infamy, depending on who you ask. The Gods of Destruction. 12 ancient beings each inhabiting the equally numbered universes responsible for keeping the balance of life and death imperative to the health of reality. Impossibly powerful and rightfully feared, their names have inspired dread into the hearts of every mortal unlucky enough to earn their ire, shaping the histories of countless species to this very day.

Among these twelve, Beerus has always stood out for all the wrong reasons in the eyes of mortals and some of his peers. Childish and easily provoked, he has committed unspeakable destruction in his native 7th Universe with reckless abandon. Extinguishing species for anything he perceives as a slight and enjoying the spectacle of their demise. Earning him an infamous reputation across the entire multiverse.

Some brave souls have even challenged him to single combat, noble warriors seeking to end his cycles of petty annihilation. In a just universe, this noble pursuit would have been more than enough to succeed in these undertakings. Unfortunately, rarely is fate so kind. In their desire to halt more destruction, they merely ensured their own along with any world and race unfortunate enough to bear witness to it. Becoming forgotten by all, including the very being responsible.

It is for this reason that Sorbet should consider himself lucky to witness the events unfolding on the monitor before him. Only a few mortals have laid eyes on Beerus and lived to tell the tale but next to none have ever witnessed someone stalemate him as his master Freeza. How ironic a mortal almost as despised as the God of Destruction himself would come closer to destroying him than any one of those other, nobler heroes. But as he rewatches the footage of the battle in another loop, lucky isn't the word he'd use.

In a perfect scenario, his master would have soundly defeated not only Beerus but the two Saiyan Gods as well. Taking the Earth for the Empire and ushering in a new age for the Seventh Universe with Lord Freeza, an immortal God at the forefront. Instead, he watches Freeza, smarter, stronger, better in every regard to his old self once again fail thanks to the accursed luck of the Earthlings. A luck responsible for bringing Beerus himself down to the planet at a moment where victory was but moments away.

The last time Freeza fell, it nearly destroyed the Organization. Luckily, Freeza's adoption of Earth's various technologies into their army along with a strict hiding policy has negated the possibility of this happening again. Allowing the PTO to survive and thrive without him. Instead of finding some comfort in this fact, another one grinds it into the dirt, the all-but-certain attack of the Saiyan's.

Freeza's kidnapping of the half-Saiyan offspring, originally a tactical and vengeful decision to torture Goku and Vegeta or to give Freeza a bargaining chip if the battle went badly will now come back to bite them. The two Saiyan Gods are coming, and even with the lack of the Dragon Ball's, they will stop at nothing from getting their children back and ending the Organization once and for all.

As a minor nuisance, they'd have let Freeza's latest attack slide but now? Not a chance. Even if he returns the children to their fathers, the odds of them merely leaving the PTO alone are next to none. Indeed, Freeza's decision to raise the stakes may just backfire if the Earth fighters decide to do the same. Not to mention what Beerus may do.

Still, Sorbet didn't give up on the Organization when it nearly imploded and he certainly won't now regardless of the odds. They'll have to kill him to stop him. With a dismissive wave of his hand, the floating computer window of the footage fades into nothingness. Replaced by a new one, showing the features of one Professor Kafka, leader of the PTO Research Bureau.

"Lord Sorbet!" She exclaims, giving her employer and genuine smile and bow. "Am I right to assume you're calling for my initial report on the new test subjects?"

He nods. "Given your track record thus far, I trust you've made some useful findings?"

"More than useful, splendid in fact! These half-Saiyan's you've sent to us, their power and bodies continue to astound me! The oldest of them, in particular, has a power dwarfing any ever recorded in our databanks! They will make the perfect cyborg soldiers indeed!"

"Are you 100% sure they can survive the procedure? Two of them are teenagers after all." He inquires, worried to lose the tools which will either make or break their chances of defeating Goku and Vegeta. "Can it be done?"

"Possibly," She rubs her chin, mulling over the numbers quickly through her head. "Our success rate is still too shoddy for me to give it a confident recommendation, even with Saiyan's as strong as these the odds of death are high."

Sorbet stiffens in his seat, a bad feeling stirring in his gut.

"However," She muses with a glint in her eye. "There is an alternative to it we've been developing. Something to make cybernetic implantation possible without needing to carve up a person's body. Nanotechnology."

He raises an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware we were developing anything of the sort."

"We're not," She confirms. "This is merely a hypothetical idea I've been developing on the side myself. The basic principle of it is to create thousands of intelligent and self-replicating nanobots who would enter a person's body and modify it from the inside. Say eating away their bones and immediately replace them with new, metal one or strengthening their muscles or eyes, all occurring simultaneously throughout the entire body. With such capabilities, limited regeneration, full body and mind control and vastly improved augmentation could theoretically be ensured with a far superior success rate to our archaic, surgically mauling of the flesh."

For a moment, Sorbet merely sits there, silent as a statue as his mind process' everything she just said. With a rush of excitement pouring over him, he momentarily considers leaping into the air and unleashing a triumphant yell like a giddy child. Instead, he merely smiles. "Professor Kafka, I could kiss you right now."

"I appreciate your acknowledgment of my brilliance my lord, but my true love is, as always, science."

"How soon can you turn this idea into reality?" He leans forward, mentally crossing his fingers for a reasonable amount of time.

Rubbing her scaly chin, with a vacant expression on her face, she considers all the variables. "Would I get anything I want for this?"


"Any equipment I request, any amount of funding I desire, a team of specifically my own choosing?"

"Yes!" He practically yells in-anticipation. "Now how long?!"

"Six to eight months for all stages of testing concluding with the half-Saiyan's augmentation process."

Leaning back into his chair, Sorbet falls silent once more, this time falling on him to mull over his chances. Without the Dragon Balls to magically tell them where the boys are, the uselessness of their Dragon Radar in detecting the stolen Ball coupled with the top secret nature of their location gives him hope that he can delay the Saiyan's that long. Coupled with the vastness of space and whatever other obstacles he can conjure up in the mean time, Sorbet finds himself feeling optimistic with this time table.

"Very well Professor Kafka," Sorbet complies with a tiny smile. "You've served me well thus far, I trust you to not start failing now."

"I've no intention of starting now, my lord."

"Good," He prepares to conclude communication when he notices her holding something back. "Something else on your mind, Professor Kafka?"

"I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries by asking this, but... What exactly are we preparing for, my lord? Surely beings of this caliber are more than sufficient to handle any threat to the Organization?"

"Almost any other threat, Professor," He admits. "But to accomplish what comes next, we will need the most powerful cyborgs of all-time, and I am fully prepared to bankrupt the entire Organization to do it."

"And what exactly is this near-insurmountable challenge?"

"Why, to accomplish something mortals since the beginning of time have tried and failed to do, of course," A sly smile creeps on his face. "We're going to kill Gods."