The Author has returned for round 3…: Yes people, not even what? Two weeks later I have come up with another Cell story! Another HUGE thanks goes out to AVC for sparking the idea. We were randomly talking and boom it hit me. I love her—she's wonderful for my writer's block. Anyway, I'm not sure about the title…I was messing with words and this is what came out of it. The story is interesting…and I know you guys will enjoy it. The first chapter here is a bit different from the past two stories, but never fear. I'm working on 2 fanfics at this point, so I'm going to try to keep this one up, though it'll most likely get more attention because I adore writing these sort of things for such a wonderful fan group:) Oh, and just wanted to let you know...this character here, Amon Kizufumi, is actually based off of "Armand" in the movie the "Legend of Zorro." I totally loved Armand and yeah, that's who this guy is to a point XD But yes, "Amon" is a Japanese name, which worked out so perfectly ;) So, onto the sequel of the sequel…

(for those of you that are new to the Cell/Layrial stories, its suggested and recommended that you read "Shadowed Spirit" and "The Past Returns" first)

The Kismet of Optimism

Chapter 1: The Wish

The cold air spit on Amon Kizufumi's face as he climbed the icy hill of the mountainside. At his age of 68 climbing a mountain was the last thing he should be attempting, especially in such a frigid climate. This trip was worth the risk though. If things went according to plan, he'd soon find himself in a glorious state where there'd be so much power at his fingertips people would bow to him and beg for mercy.

It was thoughts such as that one that kept Amon going without wondering if these journeys were nothing but a death-wish. This was the seventh and final trip he had to make around the world to find what he considered the most precious gems that existed on the planet. They were called dragon balls—seven mystical balls that when brought together would summon a dragon of enormous power and who would grant any wish the caller desired. Amon had heard of these dragon balls many years ago, but he never had the opportunity, or the resources to be able to hunt for them.

However, things changed when he finally developed a small radar system that would help him locate that of which he sought. After several pain-staking attempts he was able to arrange a meeting at Capsule Corporation where a well-known, highly respected scientist, Dr. Briefs, conducted his studies. He knew Dr. Briefs had a daughter who was familiar with the dragon balls and, under great assumption, took the chance of snooping around at a given free moment to see if she had any sort of device that would make locating the balls easier.

Amon was right, much to his great happiness. Once he had developed his own version of this radar, he was able to charter a small plane to take him to the locations around the globe where these balls had landed since their last usage. He knew they were never in the same place twice; therefore the radar was of the utmost important to his self-made mission. He had been through blistering hot jungles, rugged deserts, beaches on islands that no one knew existed and more. After three years of non-stop work to get to this spot in his efforts towards his goal, he was finally at that final stepping stone to the treasure.

Amon pulled himself up over a small ledge, the weight of his backpack nearly pulling him back down. With arthritis in his hips and elbows as he got older, movement such as this was extremely difficult. Medication was only capable of taking the edge off the sharp pain therefore it was nearly impossible to escape it. Not that it mattered though—the thoughts of obtaining the last dragon ball was all that he had to think of now.

Once he was standing on the ledge, Amon pulled up the binoculars that were strung around his neck, his gloved hands trying to adjust them to see across the new hill he was standing on.

There…it stood only a few more meters away and it looked like nothing guarded the path. The last ball he had to go after was lying in the cave that belonged to a pack of lions—the experience was none to pleasing, to say the least. It was only with the help of a stunning device that he had invented that aided him in getting past the vicious animals. As he approached this ball the more aware he was of the proximity between him and his goal.

The three-star ball sat nestled in a tuft of snow protected from the harsh environment only by an evergreen that sheltered it from being buried from the white substance that blanketed the entire terrain. When Amon wrapped his fingers around the softball-sized orb, a large, smile full of yellowing teeth took over his face. Finally, he had succeeded—his dream would now come true. After nearly 30 years of waiting he'd finally be able to take hold of what was rightfully his.

Amon packed the ball safely into his pack and started the descent back to the plane. He wished he could call the pilot to just come pick him up, but there was no spot large enough to hold the aircraft even for a few moments. Walking was treacherous, especially downhill, but he didn't care anymore. He now possessed all seven dragon balls and soon he'd be summoning the eternal dragon.

Nearly an hour later, Amon found himself sitting with a hot cup of tea in his hands, a blanket over his legs, and warm air was pouring out from overhead vents. The plane was on its way back to the place he called home—the place that had scorned him for much too long. During the trip, though, instead of looking towards the future, Amon couldn't help but remember the past.

Thirty years ago he had been a first-class lab assistant to a brilliant scientist named Dr. Gero. Though Gero was older and admirable for his work, Amon never liked the man he worked under. Gero had been shunned by the community as well as forced into hiding after several attempts of power-struggles had been destroyed. Creating androids was his specialty and when Amon met him he was working on two very powerful, very lethal humans, transferring their humanity into robotics. It was a huge undertaking, but the more Amon saw, the more he began to believe anything was possible.

Then one day, the most ingenious idea occurred to him—an ultimate creation; a perfect being. He proposed the plan to Gero, which consisted of taking DNA from the world's greatest fighters, the very same men who had put Gero out of business (so-to-speak), and combine them to form the strongest creature imaginable. Gero seemed to put down the idea, but only days later did Amon find out that his plan was very worthy in Gero's eyes. Amon, suspicious of his idea being formulated without his knowledge, stayed behind and hid in order to observe Gero later at night. As he thought, the old scientist was developing little bug-sized droids that would gather the necessary DNA needed for the project.

Amon, feeling not only betrayed but angered by this turn of events, decided enough was enough. He purposely pulled up files that Gero had hidden from him (or so he thought) and each file, labeled "Cell" was spread out on a table. When Gero returned from a lunch break, he discovered what Amon was up to and immediately lashed out with verbal intensity. The only thing that made Amon leave was the threat that Gero hung over his head—activating androids 17 and 18 to get rid of him. Amon valued his life along with his work too much to be torn to pieces by Gero's little pets; therefore he left and never returned.

Amon sipped his tea and looked out the window of the plane. They were over a large stretch of land that seemed to be used for farming. He clearly remembered Gero's success in creating Cell, as if he had learned about it yesterday. It had been nearly thirty years since he proposed the idea and it had been a bit more than ten since he discovered it had truly worked. Cell had been created, and though differently than Amon would have designed him, the success of collecting cells from other beings and forming them into one ultimate creature was indeed a marvelous discovery. When the "terror" was unleashed onto several cities, Amon felt no fear, but rather pride that his brilliant mind could have thought of something so perfect. If he had been the one to follow through with the project it would've been even more glorious—but Gero had the equipment and the money, Amon had not.

"We'll be landing shortly, Dr. Kizufumi," the pilot called from the cockpit.

Amon fastened his safety belt and set his third cup of tea down in the armrest cup holder. In a mere few minutes the world would be under his control…his dream would be realized and what was rightfully his would return…

Those few minutes turned into half an hour, but it didn't matter. The pilot had landed in an open hay field and Amon proceeded to get out, pulling a duffle bag containing all seven balls over his shoulder. The elderly scientist limped several meters away from the plane, his legs tired and his body demanding rest, but he wouldn't give in. Kneeling down at a random spot, he unloaded all the dragon balls and watched them glow before his dull, green eyes. He ran a wrinkled hand through his short, neatly combed hair.

The balls continued to glow, but nothing happened. He thought that once they were together out in the open the dragon would appear and grant him his wish. Then it dawned on him—he probably had to say something to trigger the dragon to life. Before he did so, however, he reached into the duffle bag and pulled out a small gun-like object only instead of bullets it was loaded with small darts.

"Come forward dragon!" Amon yelled, but his eyes narrowed when everything remained the same. However…the sky began to grow dark and the wind started to pick up. He backed up several steps and shielded his eyes from sparks jumping from the balls; before he knew it a monster lightning bolt flew towards the sky, a ghostly shape forming from the smoke surrounding it.

Amon gasped when he saw the dragon's color taking place and the massive creature hovered several miles overhead. It was huge—larger than he had ever thought possible. Whoever created these balls was a pure genius and he'd like to thank him or her for a job well done.

"You have awakened me from my slumber," said the deep, booming voice of the dragon. "Speak and I will grant you two wishes."

Amon's eyes grew wide and his heart skipped a beat. Two? He had never heard of two wishes…how convenient. He thought quickly and decided which to wish for first; once he had he stood up as straight as his back would let them.

"Mighty dragon," he called up. "I wish for you to make my body in the condition it was in when I was 35 years old, but allow me to still hold the knowledge I have today!"

"As you wish," the dragon answered. His large red eyes glowed brightly, his huge teeth being exposed as he opened his mouth while granting the wish.

Amon felt a wave of heat and adrenaline wash over him. He looked down at his hands and noticed how young they looked. He felt stronger, taller, and much better from the ailments that had been setting in on him. If a mirror were present, he was sure to find the image of the man he once knew—bright green eyes, neat brown hair, a straight, but short nose and a round chin.

"Now, state your second wish," the dragon rumbled.

Amon smiled and gripped the gun tightly in his hand. "I wish for you to bring back Cell, the perfect being that had died here many years ago during his Cell Games, but return him in his final form," he ordered in a much younger sounding, smooth voice.

The dragon seemed to be staring at Amon, his face unfaltering. Amon waited, one thin eyebrow rising above the other and his sharp eyes searching the area in front of him. Then, the red eyes of the dragon glowed and thunder shook the Earth. Amon looked at a glowing figure in front of him, the shape becoming more clear and definite as the seconds rolled on.

Cell, had returned.

Amon's perfectly white teeth smiled through thin lips, his face looking menacing yet very pleased. Before him stood his ultimate idea—Cell, the being created from the world's most powerful warriors—and he was even better in person than he remembered on TV ten years ago. Tall and well built with an oddly shaped two-tiered crown on his head, Cell looked up at the large dragon with magnificent magenta eyes, his yellow chin hanging with an open jaw.

"My work here is done," the dragon said. "Farewell."

In a flash the monster disappeared, the balls hovered and then shot out in seven separate directions. The sky returned to its familiar blue color and the stormy weather passed as if had never happened. Cell looked down at his pale gray hands, apparently appalled that he was once again in the world of the living.

As Cell looked himself over, Amon did the same. Cell's body was dominantly green with dark green spots, but parts of him—shins and calves, chest and shoulders and cranium looked like they were a smooth and hard black. His face was very human-like, with the exception of purple cheeks and a yellow plated jaw. Amon frowned slightly as he noticed bug-like (though made of the same black material as his chest and shoulders) wings that fell dead-straight to his knees.

"Magnificent," he said to himself; Cell obviously heard him and finally took notice. "Tell me, Cell, what's it like to be alive once again?"

Cell looked curiously, yet scornfully at this human being, a man he didn't remember ever being acquainted with when he was alive. "I beg your pardon, but have we met?" He asked disdainfully.

Amon wanted to jump at the feeling of hearing Cell speak—an ideal and well rounded tone with a bit of a foreign (British, he assumed) accent. It topped off his elegant mannerism perfectly. "You do not know me, but I know all about you."

"Spare me the lecture," Cell warned.

"I am the one who thought of you—it was my idea to create you and you exist because of me," Amon said as if he was possessed by a demon.

Cell laughed audibly and put his hands on his hips. "Please, do you expect me to believe such a thing? Only one man created me and you are most certainly not him—I may not have met my creator, but I know of him very well and you, my friend, are far too young to fit his image."

"Yes, you speak of Dr. Gero," Amon said with a small frown forming on his lips. "But I was the one who gave Gero the idea—I was his lab assistant before you were designed and banished because I wanted to be part in your creation."

"I've heard enough of this," Cell said, his expression firm. He extended his arm and pointed his index finger at Amon. "Please give those fools in the afterlife my regards—"

"No," Amon said with a sleek grin. "You belong to me, Cell, and no one else…not even yourself…"

Before Cell had a chance to react, he felt something pierce his neck. He reached up and pulled out three small darts that he had barely seen being shot from a gun the man held. Cell's eyes looked the tiny darts over and frowned as he crushed them in his hand, some of the remnants pricking his palm.

Amon waited patiently and watched whiled Cell opened his mouth to speak—but nothing came out. In fact, no actions against Amon came because Cell soon found himself on his knees, his veins pulsing up his neck and arms.

Amon approached the android slowly and snickered as he looked at creature as he struggled for control. "There can be no resistance," he said with dignity. "You are mine."