Beneath the serpentine path of Snake Way lay a realm both haunting and perplexing—Hell, a place like no other in the afterlife. Contrary to the popular image of a fiery inferno, Universe 7's Hell unfolded as an amusing joint of curious landscapes that challenged the living's perception of damnation. At the heart of this mysterious realm lay the infamous "Bloody Pond," its name foreboding but its essence far from the torment one might envision. Instead of agonized cries or a sense of despair, this crimson-hued pool was surrounded by spirits engaged in conversation. They gathered not for suffering but for the purpose of simply chatting, casting the very idea of Hell into uncertainty. It was like visiting a local park and having a conversation in front of the fountain.
Hell's essence defied expectations. Instead of unending anguish, its landscapes resembled something conjured from the darkest corners of a surreal dream. Relationships blossomed through combat or words, a unique legal system thrived, and even an odd strain of humor found its place among the damned. Laughter, camaraderie, and oddities echoed through its peculiar landscapes, a stark departure from the suffering most anticipated.
The Hell Tourist Board beckoned the curious, offering brochures with titles like "Sights to See in Hell" and "The Best Souvenirs of Damnation." Visitors embarked on a journey through Hell Park—an amusement park where macabre humor and bizarre sights reigned supreme. Spirits reveled in dark jests and found joy in the strangest of amusements. Yet, beyond the notorious Bloody Pond and the enigmatic Pin's Mountain, Hell held deeper secrets. A well-concealed jail imprisoned souls that had violated the laws of the afterlife—a grim reminder that actions had consequences, even in the realm of the dead.
For all its grim names and eerie landscapes, Hell wasn’t anything like most religions described it as. It defied the conventional concept of punishment, offering the hope of redemption and renewal. Souls embarked on journeys of self-improvement, seeking to cleanse themselves of past transgressions or, if failing that, to continue to muck here for eternity.
In this peculiar netherworld, the souls of evildoers and villains who died found themselves condemned to spend eternity. Spirits engaged in combat, reliving their battles endlessly, while others found solace in the surreal and grotesque pleasures that Hell offered—a twisted amusement park, populated with the spectral remnants of beings who once wielded unimaginable power. They formed bonds and connections if they weren’t fighting. Amid bizarre landscapes and peculiar activities, they thrived, each soul forging its own unique path toward redemption or solving boredom. In one corner, spirited debates ignited among souls, reminiscing about their past life, their victories, and their defeats. In another, souls gathered around a makeshift stage, eager to showcase their unique talents while others watched, their applause and laughter echoing through Hell's surreal streets.
Even the supernatural overseers of Hell, such as Goz and Mez, the ogres tasked with evaluating the damned, carried out their duties with a whimsical touch. They tested wayward souls' strength and agility in playful challenges, setting the criteria for their next phase of existence.
Commander Appule had been given a special task by his captain. Appule's mission was rather simple: to conquer and reshape this unusual realm into another planet conquered and subjugated for the Planet Trade Organization’s purposes. The transformation of Hell was underway, directed by Appule with unwavering conviction and utmost military standards. The Construction Force worked tirelessly and happily under his protection. Their mission was to forge an academy for the sake of training all the souls that arrive in Hell to serve the Planet Trade Organization with a chance of being revived to the world of the living once again if they show enough potential.
Commander Appule refused to allow anything to disrupt his given mission, and as he surveyed the hellish terrain, he saw it materializing before his eyes. Hell's surreal topography posed a unique challenge, but the Construction Force was more than capable of handling it. As amazing as the task seemed, the Construction Force hewed their way through this otherworldly realm, shaping the land as ordered. They carved grand spires and ornate structures, woven seamlessly into Hell's fabric while standing in stark contrast to its peculiar surroundings. Every stone, every beam, and every pillar of the academy embodied the essence of a grand, universal, expanding empire. The architecture reflected the Planet Trade Organization’s vision of dominance and power, even in the afterlife. It was a testament to just how far Turles was willing to extend his reach and control over the universe.
Appule's mission did not end with overseer duty. His task also extended to the souls who had once been part of Frieza's dominion. Through his meticulous guidance, Appule identified those who were previously a part of the Planet Trade Organization when they died. He assembled them, instructing them to gather in a designated area of Hell, a place he referred to as the "revival zone."
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In this anomalous corner of Hell, the atmosphere bore an air of uncertainty. Souls who had once met their fate under the banner of the Planet Trade Organization now stood on the precipice of rebirth, their destinies hanging in the balance. Their voices murmured with speculation and trepidation, uncertain of what lay ahead. An air of authority marked Appule's arrival. While those who died later in history may not have known him, those who died more recently did know of his immense status. He addressed the assembled souls as any commander would, his words tinged with the promise of a second chance. His words were clear—those who once served the Planet Trade Organization would be given the opportunity to serve again.
Zarbon, with his braided green hair and joy at the chance of being revived, was among the first to approach Appule. "I never thought I'd see the day when I could return to the world of the living," he admitted, his once-aloof demeanor softened by the circumstances of Hell. "I met my end on Namek, a not-so-beautiful world that became my end."
Dodoria, towering and beefy, nodded in agreement. "But if this is a chance to go wild again, I’ll take it for sure!" Appule studied their faces. His eyes revealed nothing that hid underneath. "Your loyalty and expertise were once valuable assets to the organization," he said.
Cui interjected, "I met my end at the hands of that filthy traitor Vegeta, and I don’t think that’s fair."
These souls from Frieza's inner circle formed a peculiar group—former co-workers, now united by the prospect of revival. The concept of revival in Hell was mouth-watering to these dead souls who had no interest in redemption and being reincarnated without their memories. Appule's mission had sparked a debate among the assembled souls. Amid the discussions, one soul stood out—Appule and the Construction Force. They had no halos. "Appule," asked Zarbon, "Are you not dead? How did you get here?"
“Through a technique taught by the Yardratians,” Appule answered.
“It allows you to travel from the world of the living to the world of the dead?!” Raditz exclaimed.
“Yes.” Appule didn’t explain further.
“How have things been since we’ve died?” Bardock questioned.
“Better,” Appule answered.
“Well, ya gotta give us more than that! Is Turles really better than Lord Frieza?” Nappa demanded.
“Well, I haven’t heard of any soldiers dying at his hands since he took over nearly a year ago.” Appule put a finger to his chin.
“I think he’s better than Lord Frieza already!” Jeice exclaimed.
“No threats or sudden killing of any of the soldiers? Are you really sure?” Burter questioned.
“There may be some, but I am unaware of any. I don’t follow Captain Turles around anymore. I have my own duties as Commander of the Turles Force.” Appule responded.
“Wow, who knew that Captain Turles would become so strong?” Recoome was impressed by the monkey.
“None of us did…” Guldo scratched his head.
“Where is Lord Frieza anyway?” Appule asked.
“Lord Frieza and his family were taken to their own areas of Hell,” Raditz answered.
“I’ll be right back.” Appule placed his index finger and middle finger on his forehead, sensing the energy of the Frieza Family.
“Hmph. What is this? Are you all having a party without me?” Vegeta arrived on the scene before Appule left.
No faces were happy to see him. Vegeta smirked as a group of Saiyans were behind him. King Vegeta, the Queen of the Saiyans, and all of King Vegeta’s most loyal followers stood behind him. Appule slowly put his hand down as he locked eyes with the known traitor of the Planet Trade Organization.
“So there you were. I still have a bone to pick with you for killing me, Prince Vegeta.” Nappa cracked his knuckles.
“I’ve been wondering where the prince has been hiding all this time. It seems he’s been gathering his forces to take us on.” Zarbon noted.
“A bunch of weak monkeys don’t stand a chance against us!” Recoome laughed loudly.
“Appule. Turles’s lackey… I hope you don’t think you’ll be safe just because you are a part of the Crusher Force! I’ve grown a lot stronger since the last time we met. Far stronger than even the Ginyu Force! Your rivals in power!” Vegeta greeted him.
“I suppose there is no need for an old era of Saiyans when the current one is doing just fine,” Appule muttered. “Those willing to side with Prince Vegeta stay there. Those wanting to be revived stand over here.” Appule told the royal family’s faction.
They hesitated as Vegeta glared backward, daring them to take a step over there. Appule used the opportunity to land a critical knee strike to Vegeta’s back, forcing his spine to nearly snap as he bent like a shrimp while flying over the Hell’s landscape. “Now, make your decision while I handle the Prince.” Appule placed his fingers on his forehead and vanished.