The mohawk-wearing thug staggered back as the pigtailed youth walked by. He shook his head, then felt the point of impact the kid had made on his face. "Hey you! You think you can mess with one of King Sanga's men? I'll crush you like an egg!"
The boy stopped and turned his head slightly to regard the massive mutant from the corner of one eye. "You have thirty seconds of life. Make your peace with God."
"WHAT?!" The mutant leapt forward, hands coming out.
Ranma sidestepped. "After I was so generous too. Ah well."
"You dirty... huh? Wait?! NOOOOOO! GakkkkK!" Splursh!
Ranma shook his head. Such a waste. Didn't they understand how precious and fragile life was in this environment? Whatever, he had no time for such as these.
Sailor Pluto looked at the horrific landscape into which the Senshi were now thrust.
It was "Fist Of The Northstar" or "Hokuto No Ken" - mostly. Ranma had studied every available martial art, and while he was not the True Heir of the style, he had picked up some of it at the very least.
With the world laid waste around them, small knots of humanity tried to survive. Instead of nuclear war it had been Beryl and Metal'la sucking the life energy of the world away. The life force would regenerate, eventually, but it could take a hundred thousand years much as it had when the dinosaurs had perished.
Now the Senshi had been scattered. Metal'la had been defeated, but when Usagi had defeated the Type IV Entity, she had not finished off Beryl who had made a phylactery to maintain her life force.
Beryl was now a superhuman entity who could still doom this world in her quest for power. In order to regain their senshi powers and identities, Beryl would have to be defeated and the phylactery destroyed.
The heroes here were mainly martial artists with superhuman powers, having to constantly hone their abilities to greater levels.
Pluto watched the figure of Ranma trudging through the wasteland. Even though his age was still sixteen, this was a harsher and tougher Ranma. One that lacked much of the innocence but whose heart was still good. His words were more considered, he didn't quite wear his heart on his sleeve.
More interesting as she observed, it appeared that some of her earlier observations were wrong and that Ranma was actually a practitioner of:
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(Posted Fri, 08 Oct 2004 10:21)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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