Chapter Text
The Mortal Mistake
The city is already quiet when he arrives. Not empty— quiet. That wrong, held-breath quiet that only comes after people realize running will not help. Goku Black stands at the edge of a shattered street, boots resting in broken stone, pink ki still fading from his hands. Rosé had been enough for the slaughter. It always was.
And yet— he feels it again. That tremor. That irritating echo beneath his ribs. A memory that isn’t his. A body that remembers laughter. A voice that remembers saying ‘ friends.’ His jaw tightens. “Pathetic,” he murmurs, but the word doesn’t kill the feeling this time.
So he kneels, not in prayer. But in preparation. From within the fold of his dark gi, he withdraws the object wrapped in black cloth. The air changes the moment it’s exposed—god-ki recoiling, reality itself seeming to step back a fraction, as if it knows what this is for. The mask is crimson. Not bright. Not fresh. The color of dried blood on old steel. The color of rusted halos. It hums… not loudly, but with intent. This was not forged for battle. This was forged for finality. Black turns it in his hands. The inside is etched with god-script, each line a condemnation, each curve a verdict. Names once filled those symbols. They are gone now. Erased. He exhales slowly. Rosé fades completely. And in that quiet moment, he feels the soul still written in the dna. Felt it resist. Felt a tightening in his chest. A ghost of fear. “Stop,” something inside whispers. “This isn’t necessary.” His fingers curl. “Necessary?” he repeats softly.
He lifts the mask. The moment it touches his face the resistance dies. Not painfully but silently. Like something fragile finally accepted its fate. It would not be spared. The mask seals with a low, resonant pulse. His ki floods differently now. It’s denser, heavier, no longer elegant or divine. The air around him stains crimson, reality bending inward like it’s afraid to look too closely. When he rises, the city feels it. Windows shatter. Structures groan. Survivors drop to their knees without understanding why. Because this presence does not fight. It finishes. Black tilts his head, listening. Not for screams, but for absence. For the hollow spaces where mortals still dare to exist. “Do not look for mercy,” his voice echoes from behind the mask, distorted, stripped of warmth, stripped of the shadow of self that the dna still contained. “I have already finished deciding your worth.” He raises one hand. Crimson light gathers—not explosive, not wild. But focused and intentional. And as the city vanishes… not in fire, not in chaos, but in absolute erasure… the mask does not crack.
—
Kress had wondered where Black had gone. He said he was leaving over a week ago and had stalked out of his palatial home, leaving her with no explanation or destination. She wasn’t concerned at first. He was a brooder. And when he dreamt at night, she was able to discern the reason. “Zamas… I’m so sorry… I— ” She knew he was the reason behind the killing blow for his counterpart. And the blasted Z-fighters had wished Zamas’ immortality gone. But how was Black to know?
-A Few Years Ago-
Black had left Zamas to his own devices, as he fought his own battle, not knowing it would be the end. He fought both Goku and Vegeta, and Zamas was one-on-one with Trunks. An easy enough solitary battle, he thought. But in a moment that decided fate, Zamas was run through by Trunks’ blade, infused with ki, burning straight through his flesh. “B-Blackkk…” Zamas cried as he fell. Black had blasted Goku, Vegeta, and Trunks back with a divine roar of devastation. “Nooooo!!”
He flew to Zamas, picked him up. “Nononono… Zamas look at me. Don’t die on me…” Zamas smiled and coughed blood. It stained Black’s grey gi. “Tell me we can fix you,” he pleaded. “I’m afraid not, this will be my end.” An uncharacteristic tear slid from his eye. “I can’t do this without you. I need you. You are me, I am you… please. Don’t die. I will die with you.” He kissed Zamas’ face. His head, his cheeks, his mouth. A deep kiss, tasting the blood of his other half. His co-conspirator. His… lover. “
You will not die. You will finish what we started. You will… end them all. Avenge me, Black. I wait for you on the other side.” As he kissed Black the final time, he grew limp and breathed his last. “Noooooooo!!” Black’s ki flared. Black and pink swirls. Death and judgement. It blasted outward like a nuclear explosion, its detonation absolutely obliterating anyone within his reach. Mortals literally melting where they stood. Vegeta, Goku, Trunks, Mai, Shin, Gowas… gone too. The devastation and detonation of divinity was final. Furious. Fast. Unforgiving.
The world was silent. No mortal breath remained within miles of the blast. The only thing to be heard by the void was his tears. His sobs. He kissed the cooling face. “P-please… don’t l-leave me…” He wailed the way one does when losing their best friend, partner, lover, soulmate. A wail of heartbreak and hopelessness. A death wail. Heart wrenching full bodied sobs. “Zamas… god no… no please…” His tears steadied only for a repeated phrase, said in the most vulnerable whisper…
“D-don’t… *hiccup* …leave… *hiccup* …m-meee…”
He buried his face in his dead lover's neck. And wept as if the world was ending. Because for him… it had.