My fellow citizens of Earth,
He sits alone in the darkness, cross-legged upon a solitary mat. Around him stand dumbbells, punching bags; lists of different equipment dedicated to making one man stronger than all. All this to make him what he was: The Worlds Strongest.
I take no pleasure in informing you that our efforts to destroy the monster we have come to know as Cell.. have failed.
And it still isn't enough.
It appears that this menace far outweighs the previous alien invaders in strength..
It hadn't been so long ago that he was standing before hordes upon hordes of adoring fans, telling them not to fear anymore. He was here for them and no alien would darken their doorstep again. How they had loved him and showered him with gifts - women with kisses, men with handshakes and congratulations.
There is no need to panic, however. As you may or may not be aware, Cell is holding a Tournament..
It had been intoxicating to be loved so much by so many people. He had forgotten how much the struggle to the top had cost him – a wife, months in therapy, a drinking problem. He was a champion among champions and no one could take it away from him.
Our hopes now rest upon any warrior who chooses to step forward to face this evil..
There were whispers in the silence and he heard every one – people confused his arrogance with ignorance and his loudness with stupidity – but didn't care. So what if the former winner of the World Tournament hadn't shown up? Who cared if any of those weird tricksters had been missing? He had fought his way through real warriors; what could a couple of magicians do?!
We are in their hands now..
Now, however? Now he was truly scared. Tricks wouldn't stop a tank. Tricks couldn't destroy a jet. Tricks certainly couldn't take out entire armies of people. This 'Cell' was some kind of super powerful beast and he didn't know if he could match him. In fact he doubted it.
Take care, and may Kamis blessings be with us all.
"M-mister Satan? I-I don't mean to d-disturb your pre-pre-pre-"
"Preperation?! Ha, I don't need preparation! That wimp's going down in the first round, put money on it, kid!"
The boy broke into a relieved grin, practically radiating adoration.
"I will Mister S-Satan! Just came to tell you that the copters ready to fly! We're behind you all the way, Mister Satan!"
This clearly being far too much communication with a star, the boy turned and fled. As soon as he was gone his confident smirk and brash nature completely disappeared. Hercule Satan sighed and, with resignation, forced himself to stand.
"Why am I doing this?" His voice bounced around the room, "This thing's bigger than me.."
The answer was simple, because there was no one else. The world couldn't depend on magicians and tricksters; Hercule had his suspicions about whether they had even truly fought the aliens. He hadn't actually watched what little there was of a broadcast but surely it was a hoax of some sort – famous baseball players don't just die then come back to life.
He paused outside his daughter's bedroom, peering through at his sweet little angel. So much like her mother - beautiful but with a fiery disposition that demanded attention. If there were a chance, just a chance, that being there would stop that creature, he had to go. Not for honour, dignity or publicity; but for his sweet little Videl who deserved to grow up.
He was Earth's hero, the only true one it had. He didn't know what difference his being there would make but that was beside the point. No matter how scared he might feel, he had to be there.
That's what being the Worlds Strongest, being a father and being a hero was all about.