"How is this possible?" he whispered.
Son Goku.
Dragon Ball Z
The memories rushed back as if a tidal wave. He remembered watching the anime with his younger sister, the two of them glued to the TV when Goku first became the Super Saiyan on Namek. He remembered watching the Tournament of Power on his phone, his heart beating so fast that he thought it'd burst out of his chest.
But how did he become Goku?
And he didn't just look like the Saiyan, he had the power too. He could feel it deep inside him, the unfathomable ocean of bubbling floaty power that was just begging to come out. He could even feel the deeper darkness, the core of RAGE buried deep under the ki – the Super Saiyan or the Oozaru, maybe, either of the two.
Was this the metamorphosis power he'd gotten through the chat group?
He clenched his fist, feeling the power rolling beneath his muscles.
He thrust his hand out as a yell escaped his lips, "Hyah!"
But nothing happened.
There was no wave of power shooting out of his hand, no blast of energy just blasting the mountain he was aiming at to smithereens – just an empty yell.
Daemon frowned and looked at his hand.
Why didn't it work?
He did everything correctly. He gathered the power in his hand and expelled it out of his palm, but there was no earth-shattering blast of ki, just a puff of air, like a balloon being deflated.
"Well, that's disappointing." He muttered.
[As per popular vote, Honourable Fool has been chosen as the Group Admin]
The screen suddenly appeared in front of his face, distracting him from his Super Saiyan fantasies.
"Huh," he blinked.
What was going on in there? He wondered, before opening the chat group with a single idle thought
[Bastard of Ice and Fire: Uh, hi?]
[Fallen Angel: And there's our final member. What took you so long?]
[Honourable Fool (Admin): Welcome. Try not to panic, though, given the circumstances, that may be unrealistic.]
"…Right," Daemon muttered under his breath.
[Bastard of Ice and Fire: What exactly is this?]
He already knew the answer, technically. He'd read enough fanfiction to recognize the setup instantly. Multiversal chat group. Strangers from different worlds. Usually followed by hand-holding, power boosts, and cryptic mentors.
This didn't feel like that.
If anything, it felt… unfinished.
[Graceful Yandere: We don't know for certain, dear.]
[Graceful Yandere: But from what we can tell, it looks like some sort of cross-dimensional communications hub.]
Daemon frowned.
[Bastard of Ice and Fire: I understood… some of those words. And who are you people? I am Prince Daemon Targaryen, the second prince of the House of the Dragon.]
There was a noticeable delay this time, like they were all taking a moment to process the revelation of his identity.
[Honourable Fool (Admin): …I see.]
[Honourable Fool (Admin): Welcome, Prince Daemon.]
[Honourable Fool (Admin): My name is Elijah Mikaelson. And speaking of names…]
His username suddenly shifted, mid-message
[Honourable Fool has changed their username to Elijah Mikaelson]
[Elijah Mikaelson (Admin): There, now that is much better.]
Daemon cocked an eyebrow, confused – what was that all about?
[Star of Ruin: Wait, what? You can just do that?!]
[Elijah Mikaelson (Admin): It appears to be an administrative privilege.]
[Elijah Mikaelson (Admin): I see no indication that the rest of you possess the same authority.]
Elijah said, before letting the whole group know about where the setting to change the username was on his end.
Daemon checked instinctively.
He was right.
Nothing.
[Skeletor: He's right.]
[Skeletor: No option on my end either.]
A moment later -
[Skeletor: Ah. In that case, proper introductions are overdue.]
[Skeletor: My name is Toshinori Yagi. It is a pleasure to meet you all. 😊]
Daemon froze.
Toshinori Yagi?
That name landed like a hammer.
[Graceful Yandere: How lovely.]
[Graceful Yandere: I am Lady Anastasia Greengrass, of the Ancient and Noble Houses of Greengrass and Selwyn.]
Daemon stared at the names, his eyes blank.
He knew a few of them, like Toshinori Yagi – wasn't he All Might, the number one hero from My Hero Academia? He'd started watching that show, but stopped after the whole Overhaul storyline because of his exams and just never got back to it.
And Anastasia Greengrass, he didn't know her. But wasn't there a character in the Harry Potter fandom called Daphne Greengrass? He had read more than a fair share of fics with her in them. This Anastasia, maybe she's Daphne's sister or Cousin.
The name Elijah Mikaelson was also bouncing about in his head, like he should know that name. But for the life of him, he couldn't remember from where.
Maybe a movie…?
All of a sudden, his body shuddered, making him lose his train of thought.
A cramping pain spread all across his body as a wave of heat erupted from the center of his chest and spread across to the entire body, and even to the furthest extremities, like the fingers and furthest tips of his hair.
And then it burned.
His body twisted and jerked under the pain, making him bite his tongue to stop himself from screaming. It felt like it lasted for hours, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes.
When it was all done, Daemon was back in his own body - sweaty, tired, panting and full of pain.
"Fuck!" Ripped out of his throat, and unbeknownst to him, he accidentally sent it across the chat group too.
[Bastard of Ice and Fire: FUCK!]
[Star of Ruin: Daemon, are you okay?]
He breathed in heavy pants, each breath laboured and took all his effort not to hurl his last meal back out. The searing and agonizing pain from his severed arm, the pain that had gone completely unnoticed while he was Goku, was back in full force, and was hurting more than it had even when it had been ripped out by that Wendigo.
[Star of Ruin: Do you need help?! Daemon!]
He could barely make out the message on the screen in front of him, with his eyes blurry and as tired as he was right now.
Each and every part of his body was screaming in pain right now, and all he could think about was his bed in the red keep, in that dingy old room of his.
He swayed on his feet before he lost the strength to stand and went tumbling to the ground.
But before he could painfully crash to the ground, a pair of arms wrapped around him and pulled him close, stopping him from getting hurt. "I've got you, don't worry."
Daemon's bleary eyes cracked open, and he could barely make out a blurry figure with long dark hair holding him close. "Who… are you?" He managed to croak out, but lost consciousness before he could get an answer.
The last thing he saw before darkness took him whole was a pair of impossibly bright Green eyes.
***
(Annette POV)
"Is he going to be alright?" Annette Hebert asked, keeping her voice level.
Amy didn't look up at first.
She stood over the unconscious boy, arms crossed tight against herself, like she was bracing against a cold she couldn't escape. When she finally turned, her expression was pinched and defensive.
"I stabilized him," Amy said. "He's not dying. That's the best I can promise."
She hesitated, then gestured sharply at his ruined arm.
"There's something wrong with it." Her brow furrowed as she searched for the right words. "It's like necrosis, but not. Whatever it is, it's killing anything I try to grow there. Cells break down almost immediately. I can't get anything to stick."
Annette nodded once. "I'm sorry for the trouble. And thank you for keeping this discreet, Amy. I know you didn't have to."
Amy flinched at that, just a little.
"Yeah. Well." She turned away, scrubbing a hand through her hair. "I don't exactly want people knowing there are things other than brains that I can't fix."
She pulled a cigarette from her robe with a guilty glance, then lit it anyway, shoulders slumping as she exhaled.
"This isn't a favour," she said quickly, almost defensively. "I mean it is, but" She cut herself off with a frustrated shake of her head. "Just…, don't make a habit of it, okay?"
Her eyes flicked back to the boy, worry bleeding through despite herself.
"There's nothing else I can do right now. Keep him resting. No stress, no fights." A pause. "If you ever figure out how to deal with that energy, whatever it is, give me a call. If it stops breaking everything down, I can give him a new arm."
She stubbed out the cigarette, suddenly all business again.
"I should go."
Amy left quickly, like staying another second might make her say something she didn't want to.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Annette sat down beside the unconscious boy, folding her hands in her lap.
Rimestar.
Star of Ruin.
For all the power she carried, this, watching and waiting, this was the best she could do for him right now.