The Mortal Flaw

Note: This is a "what if" story about: "what if Toriyama had come up with Jiren when he made the "Future" Trunks Saga?

Once upon a time, Zamasu murdered Gowasu. It was real sad, so he decided to also murder the other Supreme Kais of the various universes with the help of his favorite friend/lover, Zamasu II: The Five Inch Fiend, or as he’s known in the weeaboo parts of the multiverse, Goku Black. With a nickname like that, you’d expect him to be called Goku Caucasian, but I digress. Their first target for necessary assassination (so they could frolick and hunt ningen to their ultimate delight without having to worry about any horrible, hairless (or hairy) Gods of Destruction ruining the fun and erasing them or snitching on them to Zeno) was Khai, veritably the Supreme Fruitboy with best name out of any of ‘em.

They knew they had to be all sneaky and such so that the Universe 11 God of Destruction, some space clown or another, would have no idea what they were up to until he was already dead. So Zamasu and Goku Black went to the Sacred World of the Kais, finding Khai lounging under a giant Kaiju Tree near the north pole, reading ancient witch hentai vigorously (as if no one were watching him), the pages yellowed and crusted over. He had to be delicate with the book so as to not tear the pages when he turned them (impatient in the heat of the moment though he was), as this was a treasured artifact of his people, having been passed down for sixteen generations amongst the Supreme Kais.

“Hello,” Zamasu said, suddenly stepping out from behind the tree and bowing cordially.

“Aughaaah!” Khai replied, hastily pocketing his priceless heirloom. “Who goes there?”

“I am Zamasu, the Supreme Kai of Universe 10. It is a pleasure to meet you,” Zamasu said smoothly, bowing again.

“Zamasu? I thought old Gowasu was Universe 10’s Supreme Kai.”

“He was, but he died. He was wretchedly old and in terribly poor health, so that is to be expected. For that reason, it was not a sad development at all.”

“Ahh, I see. I want to be old as HFIL before I die, don’t you?”

“Rotten fruit has to be disposed of, lest it attract fruit flies,” Zamasu explained, bowing again. He was ever so polite, and he kept slicking over his eyebrows with spit at every opportunity.

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything, Zamasu.”

“Would you like some tea, Khai? You are a Supreme Kai, after all.”

“Of course I would. Thank you for asking, Zamasu. You are a most magnificent Supreme Kai, and handsome too.”

“Your looks are marginal at best, thank you.” Zamasu snapped his fingers and a cart of tea appeared before them. Another snap of the fingers conjured up a tea table, complete with shaggy purple tea rugs and a pair of dainty porcelain tea cups. “Here, try this. It’s Green Liani, a delicacy from Universe 7.”

Khai, his face longer than a space horse’s, sat down at the table, pulling out his tea bib, and smiled innocently. “Thank you, Zamasu. Really, this is too much. You are too kind. How can I ever repay you for this stupendous gesture?”

“Drink up, drink up. Tell me how it is.”

He was about to do that, the refined, slightly virtuous, slightly cultivated individual who made Shin look like a four-year-old Shinjin who liked to steal my non-bloody-nosed T Rex toy when I wasn’t looking, when a deep, manly voice of justice boomed out, “Nooo, stop that at once! Nyah, justice!”

It was with a sudden appearance that Toppo, belly swinging, mustache bristling, his hands far too big for his body’s proportions, came flying into view. Slapping the teacup from Khai’s grasp, he stepped back and sang, “Justice Flash!!”, decimating the tea table in a red-raw explosion.

A crater was left in its wake, from which smoke rose and ash fell. Khai remained seated, eyes wide, completely confused about what had just happened. Toppo, clothed in his undersized Pride Trooper attire, took this opportunity to dab like a child, like an absolute space otaku.

“What the… why you… you insolent mortal!” Zamasu spat, his body quivering. “What is a mortal doing on this sacred planet, Khai?! How could you allow such a base creature to be here?!”

“Toppo always comes by,” Khai replied nonchalantly, his mouth yet gaping. “Today was his bi-weekly mustache trimming session. I like playing with his mustache, so I usually do it myself… only I don’t know why he would destroy your tea set like that. My apologies, Zamasu. Toppo, my sweet baby boy, explain yourself!”

“Nonsense! Justice never apologizes!” Toppo roared. “He was attempting to poison you, Supreme Kai!”

“What…?! Hah. Haha, what are you talking about?!” Zamasu laughed nervously. “I would never do such a thing! How dare you slander me, mortal!”

“My nose detects even the faintest traces of poison. That tea was poisoned! And look, there’s a strange man sitting in the tree watching us!”

Toppo pointed up at Goku Black, who was indeed perched in the ancient Kaiju Tree. Upon being spotted, Goku Black’s pride was hurt terribly. He was trying to be sneaky and stealthy; he hated it when mortals caught him in his game. He couldn’t even revert to the last checkpoint. That was the worst injury of all. Angered, the false Saiyan ripped a nearly ripened golden Kaiju Fruit from a branch, sparkling and shining, and threw it at Khai, hitting the man hard as it took him unawares, splattering gooey lavender pieces all over his face.

“I give up!” Khai cried, falling from his chair, his face wet and sticky and so very handsome now. “No fair! I give up! Mercy!”

“How dare you allow this place to be polluted by the presence of a mortal,” Zamasu snarled. “No tea for you. You are no longer fit to be a Supreme Kai!” The green, pointy-eared boy lit an indigo blade of ki around his hand and pointed it at his counterpart. “You will pay for your sins, Khai. You are no better than the filthy mortals!”

The three-headed monster was no match for Jiren. He had glared at it kind of menacingly, causing it to explode into a bunch of bloody chunks that had rained down over the city, bathing it in blood and gore and uncooked meat. Suffice to say, most of the cityfolk did not appreciate that.

One man, a puny-looking guy with a spray-on tan and implanted bicep muscles, whose name was incidentally Cring Aedin, observed, “Gah, look at that dumbass. He has no personality, and he made our city a mess! Who cares if he saved us?! He just hovers up there in the sky with his arms folded, glaring at us like we’re trash! He has no personality! What kind of Pride Trooper has no personality? I expected him to be cool and have catchphrases and poses and make me feel good about myself!”

“I concur,” added a man named Loagey, who possessed nine thousand strands of goatee hair. He was a foul-looking man with a face like a split boulder, the kind of dude you’d find on GodBook accidentally and feel sick just seeing his pic. His hair was nearly shaved to the scalp, but that hardly did the shape of his skull any justice. “Everyone I know hates him. He’s powerful, but look at how moody he is. He makes no sense. Why is he a Pride Trooper? He shouldn’t be that strong. He has random outbursts, I bet, and that makes me hate him because he’s not how I would expect him to be! It makes no sense. Literally every other Pride Trooper has enough personality to fit into an Easter basket. I’m not impressed. I could create a better personality for him in five seconds. By the way, the Queen of Diamonds is no match for the Queen of Spades, not the Queen of Hearts, okay? I’m pretty cool, aren’t I? Look at how clever that was. I name my children after all of the types of condoms I’m not big enough to fit into.”

A third man, whose name was Xantha Xodder, shook his damn head and muttered uselessly to himself. “Mmhmm. I just don’t get it. He’s as one dimensional as my blow up doll. I’m mysterious and I won’t reveal my personality to any of you, but even I know that he doesn’t have any personality! Look at that Jiren. He just kills things and is strong! He never showed me one bit of nuance to his character.”

“What’s nuance?” asked Aedin.

“Yeah, what the hell are you talking about? Like for real?” Loagey added. “Stop using big fancy words, okay? We’re not a bunch of fucking idiots.”

“It’s just… he doesn’t ever emote! And that’s okay, only I don’t like it! This random girl I met yesterday has more personality and I didn’t even talk to her. I just know she does because she has huge titties, mmm. Yeah, okay… he might emote sometimes, but even if he does, I won’t understand it, and because I already decided that he’s one dimensional, no matter what he ever shows in the future, I won’t change my opinion, because headcanon is more important than facts, as you guys know!” Xantha smiled, twirling around as he pointed up at Jiren.

Loagey and Aedin clapped, the former wiping away a tear. “Beautiful, well-put, articulate. We’re really smart and funny, aren’t we? I don’t get why everyone isn’t like us. Why doesn’t everyone agree with us?”

“It’s because everyone else is a fuckin’ retard, hah,” Aedin lamented. “Bunch of dumbasses. By the way, I came up with this theory that Jiren’s secretly a villain, but he joined the Pride Troopers because he likes wearing space spandex.”

“Good theory, good theory.”

From above, Jiren sighed, shaking his head. Some days, he wondered why he bothered saving random civilizations from space monsters.

Suddenly, by totally unknown and convenient means, Toppo contacted Jiren. “Jiren! Come quick! Two mysterious warriors have appeared on the Sacred World of the Kai. They have already attempted to poison Khai and are now threatening to murder him with their own bare hands! Help me deal with them! They must be stopped at all costs!”

“Hmph.”

The city was painted in blood. A foul, fresh reek was brought to him by the wind. It would take a long time to wash that away. Maybe another space monster would randomly appear and attack these people while he was gone. Jiren turned and disappeared. He could hope, at least. Hope was not like the rest of them.

The man who was indeed not like a Kai jumped from the Kaiju Tree, standing next to Zamasu, a pink energy blade in his hand. Toppo stepped in front of Khai, his arms spread, protecting the bewildered (and still better than Shin) Supreme Kai.

“Leave now,” Toppo growled, “or I will be forced to end you.”

“Hahah, a mere mortal thinks he can defeat us?” Zamasu cackled. “That is a good joke. But really, you have no hope, mortal. The powers you were bestowed were given to you by us gods. How dare you mock our authority over you.”

Goku Black was grinning broadly. “I am the strongest in the universe. I wield unequaled power. You cannot hope to defeat us.”

“Justice Flash!”

They cut through his attack with their blades, dodging to each side. Toppo was a big man, a slow man, an awkward man. “Justice will always prevail!” he shouted, as if to prove that point.

Swinging wildly, Toppo went first for Zamasu. The Supreme Kai was caught in the face by the punch and went flying back into the Kaiju Tree. That was when Goku Black appeared behind him, slicing rapidly with his sword. Toppo reacted fast enough to twist around and form a barrier of energy between him and the strange Saiyan.

“Not bad. You’re fast for a mortal. But now it’s my turn!”

Smiling arrogantly, Black quenched his ki blade, stepped back, raising his arms above his head, and began to scream like an old, determined Japanese woman. It got real windy. Toppo had to squint. Khai’s mohawk was flapping about unceremoniously. Goku Black’s entire body was covered in radiating, flame-like light–purple and black and white and pink, the colors boiling on top of one another.

When it was over, his hair had turned a permanent, deep shade of pink, rising up as if aflame itself. “So… what do you think? A godly color, isn’t it?”

“It’s pink!” Toppo replied incredulously. “Are you a girl?”

“Does it look like there are any girls around here?”

“Not at all!” Khai screamed in a panic.

“And yet, we’re aroused,” Zamasu murmured. “Not even one girl around. How do you explain that?”

“Pink is the color of the gods. It is the godliest of all colors. This is my perfected state!” Goku Black blathered on. “You stand no chance against me, mortal.”

“That’s not true. But let’s assume it is. Fine. I give up.”

“What?! You do?”

“That’s right. You aren’t stronger than me because everyone who appears in later sagas is stronger than those who appear in earlier sagas,” Toppo explained, rubbing his mustache pleasurably. “But let’s assume that power creep has not occured in this single instance. Even if it hasn’t, it doesn’t matter, because I’m not the one you’re going to fight.”

“Is that so?” Black grinned. “That Supreme Kai stands even less of a chance…”

“I wasn’t talking about him.”

“Then who were you talking about?!” Zamasu screamed, rubbing his head as he stood up after such a long time from lying at the bottom of the Kaiju Tree for no reason.

“Jiren!!” Toppo declared, flashing his eyes to the left and dabbing again. This spectacle was dramatic enough to give a weeb goosebumps.

Suddenly, descending from the sky, enshrouded in a red pillar of light, a tall, buff grey alien appeared.

“Another mortal! What a shame. You have defiled this place again!”

“This mortal is stronger than any God of Destruction,” Toppo scoffed, folding his arms. “Somehow I doubt you are too.”

“Wh-what…? Impossible!” Black’s eyes had become large, and his face had become more doubtful in a heartbeat. Even though he was pink and pretty and shiny, there was a hint of reservation now upon his godly face, soiling its imperial grace. “Impossible. You’re lying. It cannot be. I am a god! No mortal can surpass me.”

“You don’t look like a god. You look like some random mortal, and a dumb one at that. Probably a farmer or something.”

“My body may be mortal, but I am Zamasu!” Black roared.

“But he’s Zamasu!” Khai interjected, pointing at the real Zamasu. “Zamasu, CC that liar! CC him already! What are you waiting for?!”

“We’re both Zamasu,” Zamasu smirked, raising his hand to show them his Time Ring. “And before destroying them, I used the Super Dragon Balls to become truly immortal, as any god should be.”

Black likewise showed them his Time Ring. “And I used the Super Dragon Balls to wish for this body… the body of the strongest warrior in the universe. That’s not you,” he spat at Jiren. “That man was named Son Goku–a stupid idiot of a man who wielded more power than he should have for a mortal. Now I shall use his power to end all of you!”

“Owari da,” Jiren grunted, unimpressed. He folded his arms.

“Jiren, kill them!” Toppo cried. “I’ll protect Khai!”

“Arrogant mortal! You think you can take us on at the same time?!”

Khai rubbed his hands together lustily. “Jiren has done a lot of pushups. He drinks so much space milk, I’m surprised he doesn’t throw up more often. Nobody can defeat him! He’s the best!”

“Disgusting blasphemy,” Goku Black whispered, stepping up to fight. Zamasu was at his side again. “Witness perfection now.”

Together, they began to pummel Jiren with streams of ki blasts, pink and purple.

An explosion erupted around Jiren’s body. From the smoke, he slowly walked out, batting aside a few of the blasts, but otherwise dodging most of them so fast that it looked like they were simply going through him.

“Wh-what…? Impossible! No way! This can’t be happening! He’s just a mortal!”

Zamasu flung himself at Jiren, chopping and kicking. The grey alien caught him by the ankle, flipped him over, and threw him to the ground, where he became half-buried in the sacred dirt like an overripe vegetable.

Goku Black grimaced, throwing himself at Jiren, creating a ki blade again. As he swung, Jiren casually dodged. A tiny, finger-sized ki ball was all it took to destroy Black’s blade. The force of the explosion sent him flying back, his godly aura covered in red flames, evaporating like water.

“I cannot lose! I am a god! You are nothing! You are only a mortal!!” he shrieked madly, his eyes bulging out of their sockets.

Entirely unhinged, the pink-haired god flew at Jiren again with a flying punch. Jiren blocked it easily. As he did, Goku Black shot a yellow homing blast up into the air, which came down around behind his foe. But Jiren was too aware for such a simple trick to hurt him. Spinning, he kicked the blast into the sky, where it exploded in a brilliant flash of light. Recoiling, Black slid back across the grass, gathering up all of his energy into his fist. The dark pink energy swirling around his fist began to smoke and dance with lightning.

“If we fused, you would be no match for us!” Black shouted. “How about it?! See what happens when we fuse… see if you can keep up!”

“No,” Jiren whispered. “It’s over.”

His speed, and the force with which he had blocked Black’s attacks were too much. Even someone as prideful as Zamasu could understand this. But still, he would not back down. He could not flee. He was no coward. He was right; he was justice–he was a god. It was his right to defeat this mortal. There was no way a mere mortal being should be able to beat him in his perfected Super Saiyan Rosé state. The thought of that was too much to bear.

Bellowing at the top of his lungs, Black threw himself at Jiren, his punch containing all of his power. It was time to end this–he agreed with Jiren about that, at least.

Thicc Muscleboi caught Goku Black’s punch easily, twisting his wrist back, snapping it. Black cried out in a roar of pain, pulling himself free of Jiren’s grip. Cradling his broken wrist, breathing hard, he looked up just in time to witness Jiren lunging at him, his left fist pulled back sharply.

“I will purge all mortals from exis–”

Jiren’s fist connected with Black’s cheek. A colorless explosion rocked the Sacred World of the Kai. Silence resumed. Choking on his pride, the false Saiyan stumbled back two steps, raised his palm to his cheek, gasped, and exploded into a pile of wet, bloody meat.

Zamasu had harvested himself in this time. Shaking the dirt from his mohawk, he gasped just as Black had. “Y-you… how could you…?!”

Jiren punched him in the chest, sending him flying a mile into the sky. A minute later, Zamasu fell back to the ground, landing in a deep crater. Shaking though he was, he was entirely undamaged. Trying to speak again, he got to his feet only to be punted into the air by one of Jiren’s chicken leg kicks. Again he flew and landed in a crater, entirely unphased.

“He’s immortal, Jiren,” Toppo muttered. “You can’t kill him.”

“I-I… I am a god… I will purge the universe of mortal filth…! I will…”

Jiren kneed Zamasu in the scrote. It would have hurt if Kais had anything down there, but they were the weirdest creatures in the universe, as they grew as fruit from trees, and perhaps that explains how we even got to this point. It’s a wonder Shin can tie his shoes even. The fact that Khai knows how to use hair gel is almost as impressive, to be fair.

After three or four more deep punches, Zamasu tried to end Jiren with a sudden finger beam, but that was batted aside with the least bit of effort. Jiren grabbed Zamasu by the neck, pulled his Time Ring off his finger, and tossed it to Khai, who, deciding this ring was an incredibly stylish item, put it on his middle finger and felt oh so pretty from that day forward.

Jiren tried to choke a bitch out for about ten minutes, but Zamasu apparently didn’t need to breathe anymore, so that didn’t work either.

“He’s entirely immortal,” said Khai, while Jiren continued to hold Zamasu by the throat. “What are we going to do with him?”

“He destroyed the Super Dragon Balls as well,” Toppo muttered, running a pearl comb through his mustache effeminately, making sure not a single follicle was positioned out of place. “We have no way to reverse that, it seems.”

“Hmph,” Jiren said, because he’s not one to reveal his personality. He’s definitely a one dimensional character, isn’t he?

“We could seal him away,” Khai offered.

“Why not throw him into a black hole?” Toppo offered. “Not even you could escape from one of those, Jiren.”

“Professor Hsieh of Smogon University disagrees with that assessment, alas. Don’t you remember, Toppo? Jiren’s OP as heck. He beats everything.”

“Not immortal little fruitborn twinks like Zamasu,” Toppo retorted.

“Hmph.”

While holding Zamasu up by the throat, Jiren raised his power to 5% and gut punched the Supreme Kai six times in rapid succession. Though he cried out in muffled screams and felt every blow in its entirety, Zamasu simply would not die.

“Jiren, that won’t work.”

“Fine. I have another idea. Toppo, get me my kit.”

“Jiren… do you mean…?”

“Ayy lmao,” Khai sang tunelessly, smiling toothily, making peace signs with both hands in an obnoxious display. It made everyone else cringe, but it’s not like they could stop him from acting like that. If they had wanted to murder that fruitbitch, they would have allowed Black and Zamasu to do it for them.

“Yes.”

Quickly, Toppo ran home and found Jiren’s lunchbox. Returning, he handed it to the man, opening it for him like some servant or cabin boy who actually liked the feeling of being made into a woman on occasion.

Jiren chose an especially fat space blunt for this task. He tried to light it with one hand, but only managed to burn his thumb nail when he tried. He never screamed or cried or even grunted in pain when he burned himself badly, because that would be unmanly, and a real man does not ever show the world that he is in pain. After all, to be a real man, one must be absolute with power, to be an agent of justice, to exude truth with every purified action.

“Justice is absolute,” Jiren told Zamasu, whose face had turned a dark shade of green from being choked for so long. He squirmed all the same, kicking his wee little Supreme Kai legs to either side as his foe held him up above the ground. “Strength is justice! Witness my strength!”

Toppo finally lit his blunt. Jiren inhaled deeply for more than fifteen seconds. He was surely a pro to be able to take such a hit and not cough. After he was done, letting the smoke swirl around in his lungs for a good long while, the grey alien exhaled three dozen smoke rings into Zamasu’s face for no other reason than to be a jerk, because that’s who Jiren was.

Jiren’s eyes were large and black. They were marvelously expressive, and one time a girl told him he had beautiful, gorgeous eyes, and it made him feel weird, but not in an erotic way. Now his eyes were turning red and bloodshot on account of him blazing it up real good.

Now blazed to HFIL (Jiren was, ironically, an extreme lightweight), he boldly commanded, “Open, Dead Zone, ye hidden realm of true filler!” At once, a crack in reality cut through the sky. It began to suck in the air around it, glowing like a fairy’s wound. “You will live in there with Garlic Jr. for the rest of time, and you better not have sex with him, but if you do, never be the bottom, for it’s only homosexual to receive the D, not to give it.”

“But Jiren, if you get hard, doesn’t that mean you’re the gay one, since getting hard is an absolute sign of arousal?”

“Nonsense, erections are not a sign of arousal whatsoever,” Khai said helpfully, “and if you watch gay porn, you are still 100% straight. I got this sweet knowledge off Space Yahoo Answers, so I know it’s true!”

“Owari da!” Jiren muttered. “I much desire to blaze it again, to do one hundred push-ups, one hundred sit-ups, one hundred squats, and then run ten kilometers… all without an air conditioner!”

“Oh my Supreme Kai, Jiren!” Toppo clapped his hands proudly, his mustache twitching (a real character-building moment if you ask me). “You are an inspiration for us all!”

“I cannot lose this space joint…!” Jiren screamed, throwing Zamasu into the crack in space-time and snatching the blunt from Toppo’s fingertips again, inhaling deeply.

When he exhaled, all Jiren could see were masses of mist and geometric shapes and multi-colored glue bleeding together. He didn’t have to think even a little bit about that motherfucker who had killed his parents, his master, and some of his friends. That was the best part, even better than getting so thicc in the arms, shoulders, and chest that he could no longer reach around to wipe his own ass.